Post Archive for 2010

Rosh Hashanah and Parashas Haazinu

The central theme of Rosh Hashanah is expressing our recognition of Hashem as Sovereign, and of His continual monitoring and supervision of the entire universe. A verse in parashas Haazinu reflects the same theme. The Torah states (Devarim 32:39): “See, now, that I, I, am He, and there is no power alongside Me: I put to death and I bring to life, I have struck down and I shall heal, and there is no rescuer from My hand.”
The Maggid ties this verse in with an episode related in the Gemara (Berachos 58a). R. Shila gave someone lashes for immoral conduct, and the offender reported R. Shila to the gentile government. The gentile overlord summoned R. Shila for an explanation, which he gave. While the overlord was considering how to treat the offender, R. Shila recited a verse (Divrei HaYamim Alef 29:11): “Yours, Hashem, is the greatness, the might, and the splendor, the triumph and the glory – indeed, all that is in heaven and earth; Yours, Hashem, is the kingdom, and You are supreme over all.” The official asked R. Shila what he meant, and R. Shila said he was giving a praise: “Blessed is the Merciful One who has made the earthly kingdom like the heavenly kingdom, has invested you with dominion, and made you lovers of justice.” The overlord thereupon handed R. Shila a staff and told him he could act as judge. Afterward, the offender threatened R. Shila’s life (see the Gemara for details), so R. Shila beat him with the staff and killed him.
The praise R. Shila expressed, the Maggid says, had a double meaning. On the surface, it was a praise of the government. On a deeper level, though, it was a praise of Hashem.
The Maggid explains as follows. The role of earthly rulers is to promote Hashem’s rulership on earth. In this vein, David HaMelech declares: “Your kingdom is a kingdom extending to all worlds, and your dominion abides throughout all generations.” Every kingdom that exists within the worlds of the universe is but a branch of the Kingdom of Heaven; these kingdoms are all just tools that Hashem uses to impose His dominion upon the universe. Thus, Shlomo HaMelech declares (Mishlei 21:1): “Like streams of water is the heart of a king in the hand of Hashem – wherever He wishes, he directs it.” This principle is what R. Shila had in mind when he declared that the earthly kingdom is like the heavenly kingdom: Hashem arranges for the earthly kingdom to serve the goals of His heavenly kingdom. And, indeed, Hashem arranged that the gentile overlord would have a hand in bringing about the wicked offender’s death.
This is what the Torah means when it says: “I, I, am He.” Hashem is saying: “I rule within heaven, and I exercise dominion upon earth. Everything that takes place on earth is by My decree, and there is no circumventing My will – there is no rescuer from My hand.”
Yeshayah says in Hashem’s Name (verses 48:12-13): “Listen to Me, O Yaakov, and Yisrael, as he was called by Me: I am He – I am the first, and I am also the last. [Cf. Yeshayah 44:6, one of the malchuyos verses in the Rosh Hashanah Musaf Amidah.] Furthermore, My hand laid the foundation of the earth, and My right hand measured out the heavens. I call to them, that they should stand together.” In the end of days, Hashem will make evident to all that no action of any man over the course of history contravened His will. The heaven and earth will stand together, in testimony that every event in both realms was part of Hashem’s master plan.
May we gain the merit soon to see this day, when – in the words of the Rosh Hashanah Amidah – “all beings infused with a living spirit shall declare: ‘Hashem, the God of Israel, is King, and His sovereignty rules over all.’”
K’sivah v’chasimah tovah l’chol b’nei Am Yisrael!  
David Zucker, Site Administrator

Haftaras Nitzavim

Haftaras Nitzavim is the last of the seven haftaros of consolation following Tishah B’Av, the day of mourning over the destruction of the Beis HaMikdash. It speaks lyrically about the final redemption. One passage in the haftarah discusses how Hashem has set watchmen over Jerusalem. I present here the Maggid’s moving commentary on this passage.
Yeshayah 33:7 states: “Their herald screams out, and the emissaries of peace cry bitterly.” The Gemara in Chaggigah 5b interprets this verse homiletically as referring to how the angels cry over the destruction of the Beis HaMikdash and the Jewish People’s plight in exile. Other teachings also describe the angels’ crying. The Maggid raises a question about this crying. If Hashem grants requests of angels when they cry, then He should have redeemed us long ago. On the other hand, if He does not grant requests voiced by angels, then their crying seems to have no purpose. What does the angels’ crying actually accomplish?
In truth, the redemption will come only through our own crying and pleading. Thus Yirmiyahu declares (verse 31:8): “With weeping they shall come and with supplications I shall lead them.” When we pray, we show Hashem our submission to Him and our broken-heartedness over our plight. As we explained in last week’s piece, an intermediary cannot properly convey these feelings on our behalf. We must convey them ourselves.
What, then, is the role of the angels’ crying? The answer can be seen, the Maggid says, through a teaching of the Arizal. In Avos 6:2, our Sages say that each and every day a heavenly voice issues forth from Sinai and indicts us for our laxity in Torah study, proclaiming: “Woe to man on account of the disgrace of the Torah.” The Arizal says that the purpose of this proclamation is to jolt us into an awareness of what a grave sin it is to be lax in Torah study, and to spur us on to be more diligent. Similarly, the Maggid says, the angels’ crying over our plight is directed not toward Hashem, but toward us. Their crying is meant to prod us to keep crying until we are redeemed.
Thus, in this week’s haftarah, it is written (Yeshayah 62:6-7): “Upon your walls, O Jerusalem, I have set watchmen on vigil continually all day and all night – they shall not quiet. Do not fall silent, you who raise remembrance before Hashem. Give Him no peace until He establishes Jerusalem and makes her praised within the world.” The angels are the watchmen. Their crying serves as a constant vigil, to ensure that we do not fall silent – that we give Hashem no peace until He redeems us and restores Jerusalem to its former glory.
The Gemara in Chaggigah 5b relates further that Hashem Himself also cries over our plight, and we can understand His crying to have the same purpose as that of the angels. directed toward us. Thus, it is written (Yirmiyah 25:5): “Hashem roars from above.” The word “from” indicates that Hashem’s voice is directed toward us – to stir us to turn to Him with a plea for redemption.
The Gemara in Yoma 86b states: “Great is repentance, for on account of a single person who repents, the entire world is forgiven.” On the surface, this teaching is bewildering. But we can understand it, the Maggid says, in terms of the idea presented above. The angels are always ready to cry over our plight, but the initiative above must be must be triggered by some initiative from below. The repentance of a single person, though, is enough to set the process in motion. As this lone repenant fervently seeks to draw close to Hashem, and cries over the dishonor Hashem bears and the degradation His people suffer, the angels are prompted to start crying. If the rest of us are paying attention, we will detect their cries, and we ourselves will be led to plead with Hashem to forgive us and redeem us. And if we persist, we will indeed be forgiven and redeemed.
L’ilui nishmas Yitzchak Dov Ber ben Yosef, my dear uncle Irwin Zucker, who passed away on the 16th of Elul.
David Zucker, Site Administrator

Parashas Ki Savo

This week’s parashah begins with mitzvah of bringing first fruits (bikkurim). When a person brings the first fruits, he is supposed to recite a standard text, which the Torah presents, that recounts how Hashem delivered the Jewish People from Egypt and brought them to the Land of Israel. The text includes the following statement (Devarim 26:7): “And we cried out to Hashem, the God of our fathers, and Hashem heard our voice ….” The Maggid cites a comment in the Midrash stating that the phrase “our voice” refers to groaning and sighing (I was unable to locate the exact source), and he analyzes what this comment is meant to add.
The Maggid explains as follows. Consider a person who seeks something from the king. If he believes he is entitled to what he seeks, he will go through the standard channels, relying on the ministers to convey his claim to the king. But if he is hoping for a show of mercy, then he will want to approach the king himself. Crying before some minister would not serve his purpose; while the minister would duly convey the request, he would not cry on his behalf. Only if the petitioner appeared before the king personally would the king see him crying for help. The Midrash is telling us that Hashem did not deal with the Jewish People through any intermediary, but rather He listened directly to their voice, and heard their deparate groans and sighs.
In this vein, Daniel pleads (Daniel 9:18): “Incline Your ear, my God, and listen; open Your eyes and see our desolations … for not on account of our righteousness do we pour out our supplications before you, but on account of Your great mercy.” Since Daniel seeks a show of mercy, he asks Hashem to listen to his plea directly.
Similarly, Asaph, one of Korach’s sons, pleads (Tehillim 77:2-3): “I direct my voice to God as I cry out; I direct my voice to God, that He pay heed to me. On my day of distress I sought my Lord. My wound streams through the night without cease; my soul refuses to be consoled.” Again, we find a direct appeal to Hashem. In addition, we see how a person in distress keeps pleading without stop. A person who wishes to complain about some injustice will not necessarily push hard to get the matter resolved. But a person who is surrounded by enemies who seek to destroy him will cry out to Hashem right away, and he will not let up until he is saved.
A direct appeal to Hashem for mercy, out of a sense of distress, is the approach we take in the selichos prayers and during the ten days of repentence. Thus, we say in the selichos prayers: “Not on account of our piety not on account of our deeds have we come before You; like the bereft and the destitute we knock on Your door. We knock on Your door, O Merciful and Gracious One – please do not turn us away from Your presence empty-handed. From Your presence, our King, do not turn us away empty-handed, for You hear prayer.”
David Zucker, Site Administrator

Parashas Ki Seitzei

One of the many topics in this week’s parashah is that of the wayward son – a youth whose deliquency creates a need to put him to death, before he ravages his soul completely. The lad’s parents are to take him to the town elders and declare (Devarim 21:20): “This son of ours is wayward and rebellious; he does not listen to our voice; he is a glutton and a drunkard.” The Maggid poses two questions. First, given the parents’ statement that their son is wayward and rebellious, what does it add to say that he does not listen? Second, given the statement that the lad is wayward, rebellious, and does not listen, what does it add to say that he is a glutton and a drunkard? After all, it is not for these specific misdeeds that the youth is to be put to death. What is the point, then, of mentioning them?
The Maggid answers as follows. Parents have two basic duties: to care for their child’s physical needs, and to promote their child’s spiritual growth through appropriate guidance and discipline. When a child depends on his parents for his physical needs, the parents can exert moral control – the child will not get his physical needs met unless he listens. He may occasionally disobey, but on the whole he must do as he is told. But when a child strikes out on his own, stealing to finance a life of gluttony and drinking, the parents have no hold over him. Thus, the Maggid explains, the parents’ declaration is to be understood as follows: “Our son will surely grow wayward and rebellious toward Hashem. For he does not listen to us, yet he has become a glutton and a drunkard. He manages on his own; we have lost our hold on him.”
The Maggid then uses this idea to shed light on the following passage (Yirmiyah 5:23-25):
This people has a wayward and rebellious heart; they turned aside and left. They did not say within their hearts, “Let us fear Hashem our God, Who provides rain … in its proper season ….“ Your inquities have brought this about, and your sins have kept bounty from you.
When Yirmiyahu says “your iniquities have brought this about,” what does the word “this” refer to? It apparently does not refer to Divine punishment, for the preceding verses do not mention any. Rather, the Maggid says, Yirmiyahu is referring to the people’s lack of fear of Hashem. If we reflect on this indifference to Hashem, we realize that it is a real enigma. We could perhaps understand that the people, out of sheer spiritual emptiness, might not be awed by Hashem’s greatness. But why do they not, at least, fear Hashem out of concern that He might withold rain and leave them without sustenance? The Maggid answers by saying that the people are trying to manage on their own power; instead of relying on Hashem to provide for them, they seek to meet their needs by stealing and other illicit means. They therefore refuse to submit to Hashem’s discipline. They have cut themselves off from Hashem.
The Torah states (Vayikra 25:17): “You shall not cheat one another, and you shall fear your God.” If we refrain from cheating others, we will instill the fear of Hashem in our hearts.
David Zucker, Site Administrator

Parashas Shoftim

This week’s parashah discusses the appointment of a king. In the times of Shmuel HaNavi, the elders of the Jewish People approached him and said (Shmuel Alef 8:5): “Appoint for us a king to judge us, like all the nations.” Shmuel consulted with Hashem about whether to do so, for he was concerned that the circumstances were not right. Hashem told him to do as the people asked, but to warn them first of the perogatives the king would have, to conscript soldiers and workers, and to levy taxes. Shmuel delivered the warning, implicitly suggesting that the people withdraw their request. The people at large (particularly the younger members) responded (Shmuel Alef 8:20): “No! There shall be a king over us, and we will be like the other nations; our king will judge us, and go forth before us, and fight our wars.” The Gemara remarks (Sanhedrin 20b) that the elders spoke appropriately, while the young people spoke inappropriately. The Maggid explains that both groups had the same general intent, but the elders expressed the matter more wisely.
The Maggid notes that a Jewish king serves two roles. One role is to promote Torah values and observance. The second is to lead the people in battle against their enemies. Now, Shlomo HaMelech declares (Shir HaShirim 6:3): “I am unto my Beloved and my Beloved is unto me.” The Rambam (Moreh Nevuchim, part 3, ch. 51) explains this verse as teaching that the way Hashem relates to us is determined by the way we relate to Him. The Maggid draws a link between this principle and the concept of a Jewish king. When our fear of Hashem is weak, then we need a king to serve as an agent for promoting Hashem’s will, through both exhortation and a system of enforcement. In parallel, when we are faced with enemies, Hashem uses the king as a agent to wage war for us. When our fear of Hashem is strong, on the other hand, we do not need a king to prod us to keep the Torah, and, correspondingly, Hashem does not “need” to resort to a king to save us – He Himself steps in and saves us directly.
In Shmuel’s time, the Jewish People’s fear of Hashem was too weak for them to maintain their faith and observance without the aid of agent, and, accordingly, they were not worthy of having Hashem fight their battles for them directly, without resort to an agent. Thus, when the younger people asked for a king to serve as both a judge and a military leader, they in fact spoke correctly. Still, the way the elders framed the request for a king was more appropriate, for they focused on the primary issue: the need for a king to keep the people on the Torah path.
The Maggid goes on to say that, in the end of days, our hearts will be purified so thoroughly that our fear of Hashem will be firm, and we will no longer need a mortal king. Instead, Hashem will reign over us directly. He, Himself, will give us moral counsel and fight our battles. About this era it is written (Yeshayah 33:22): “For Hashem is our Judge; Hashem is our Lawgiver. Hashem is our King – He shall save us.”
David Zucker, Site Administrator

Parashas Re’eh

In this week’s parashah, the Torah teaches that animal (and other) offerings can be brought only in the Mishkan/Mikdash, but allows us to slaughter animals for mundane consumption. The Torah states (Devarim 12:20): “In full accord with your heart’s desire you may eat meat.” On the surface, this verse appears to allow us to feast on meat without restraint, which seems an odd position for the Torah to take. The Maggid, analyzing the verse more closely, shows that in fact its message is just the opposite.
The Maggid homes in on the phrase b’chol avas, which I rendered above as “in full accord.” Noting that the prefix on the word chol is a beis rather than a chaf, the Maggid says that the phrase should be read not as “to the full extent of your heart’s desire” but rather “whenever your heart desires.” The Torah is telling us, says the Maggid, that we should not make a habit of partaking of delicacies such as meat; rather, we should partake of such delicacies only when our hearts are struck with desire – that is, when we feel an unsually strong desire. If we limit our indulgence in delicacies, then the occasions when we do partake will bring us real enjoyment. But if we indulge all the time, then eventually the delicacies lose their charm. We take them for granted, viewing them as an essential part of normal, everyday life.
A person who seeks to satiate himself with material bounty is never satiated. Once he gets used to a given level of bounty, he begins chasing the next higher level. As our Sages put it (Koheles Rabbah 3:12): “No person leaves the world with [even] half his desires satisfied. If a person has one hundred, he wants to make it two hundred. And if a person has two hundred, he wants to make it four hundred.”
The Maggid elaborates on this cycle in Sefer HaMiddos, Shaar Ha-Ahavah, ch. 4. He links it to the following verse (Tehillim 101:5): “One with raised eyes and an expansive heart, him I cannot bear.” A person with an expansive drive raises his eyes, so to speak, to see what lies ahead on the road of material delight. As he looks ahead from where he currently stands, he feels that if he can reach the last station his eyes can see, he will have “made it.” But once he reaches that station, he finds it unimpressive, for he keeps looking ahead, and sees an even more dazzling station in the distance. If a person is driven to keep striding onward until he sees no better delights ahead, he is on a never-ending trek.
The Torah prescribes a balanced approach to material indulgence. Hashem knows that (except for the extremely pious) a regimen of strict asceticism is not appropriate for us. He therefore allows us to indulge occasionally, when we feel an unusually strong desire. At the same time, He warns us not to let the pursuit of material delight play an ongoing pivotal role in our everyday lives, for to do so is to strive in vain.
David Zucker, Site Administrator

Parashas Eikev

This week’s parashah begins (Devarim 7:12-13): “And it shall come about as a result (eikev), if you heed these laws and take care to fulfill them, that Hashem your God shall safeguard for you the covenant and the kindness that He swore to your forefathers. He shall love you, and bless you, and multiply you.” The word eikev also means “heel,” which is at the extreme end of the body. Thus, the Midrash expounds (Devarim Rabbah 3:1):
Said the People of Israel to Hashem: “When will You give us reward for the mitzvos that we do?” Hashem replied: “Regarding the mitzvos that you do, it is [just] from their proceeds that you benefit now, but the reward for them I will give you [only] in the end (b’eikev).”
The Maggid explains this Midrash as follows. The mitzvos that we do produce wondrous effects, particularly on our own souls. But, at present, we are unaware of these effects, for Hashem purposely hides them. If we knew what our mitzvos accomplish, our motivation in doing them would be to achieve these effects – that is, to serve our own interests – whereas Hashem wants our mitzvah observance to be motivated by respect for Him and fear of Him.
Thus, at present, we do mitzvos primarily out of simple obedience to Hashem, and Hashem compensates us for this obedience. The compensation we receive is what the Midrash calls the “proceeds” of the mitzvos. In the end, however, Hashem will reveal to us what we accomplished with our mitzvos, and it is this that constitutes our main reward.
The Maggid uses the concept of simple obedience to explain a perplexing Gemara about Avraham’s putting Yitzchak forward as an offering to Hashem. We know that Hashem meant only that Yitzchak be put forward, not actually sacrificed, but initially Avraham was unaware of this intent. The Gemara states (Sanhedrin 89b): “Said Hashem to Avraham: ‘Please stand up to this test, so that people will not say that the earlier ones were of no substance.’” Why would people say such a thing? And what was different about the test of the binding of Yitzchak, so that it would refute such an argument?
The Maggid explains as follows. Our Sages teach that Avraham kept all the Torah’s mitzvos even though the Torah had not yet been given; with his extraordinary wisdom, he discerned the beneficial effects produced by the actions embodied in the mitzvos. Similarly, the first nine of Avraham’s ten tests called for Avraham to perform actions he understood. Thus, regarding his mitzvah observance and his performance in the first nine tests, it could be claimed that Avraham had acted not out of a desire to serve Hashem, but rather because he knew that a good result would ensue. But the test of binding Yitzchak was of a completely different nature; Hashem was asking Avraham to do something that made absolutely no sense and appeared totally destructive. Thus, when Avraham did what Hashem asked, he clearly did so only because he felt obliged to obey Hashem. Avraham’s obedience on this occasion showed that his conduct in the previous nine tests was also motivated by a pure desire to serve Hashem. As the Torah states (Bereishis 22:12), Hashem thus had made it known that Avraham was truly a yirei Elokim – a man imbued with the fear of God.
May we aspire to emulate Avraham’s conduct, and, in this merit, be compensated for our obedience and receive our ultimate reward for what this obedience accomplishes.
David Zucker, Site Administrator

Parashas Vaeschanan

Parashas Vaeschanan reviews the Giving of the Torah. Hashem, our loving Creator, gave us the Torah as a guide to life. When we learn Torah, we must pay careful attention to what it says, even though there are some instructions that we feel we have heard many times before. We must take care to follow Hashem’s instructions exactly. Thus, earlier in the parashah, Moshe teaches (Devarim 4:2): “You must not add to the word that I have commanded you, and you must not subtract from it, to observe the commandments of Hashem your God, which I have commanded you.” The Maggid expounds on this injunction.
He explains that Hashem’s Torah is an intricate combination of many parts, like a precision watch. When assembling a precision watch, you must follow the design exactly. If you leave out a part, the watch will not work properly. And there is no advantage in being “generous” by making a part bigger than specified, or inserting extra parts. On the contrary, oversized parts or extra parts just interfere with the proper operation of the watch. The principle “more is better” applies well to a block of gold, but it does not apply at all to a precision watch.
Now, a person might think, far be it, that if he is generally observant, it is not so bad if he skips over a few mitzvos – Hashem will overlook the omission. Since there are so many mitzvos, it seems it shouldn’t matter if a few are left out. In regard this attitude, the Gemara teaches (Yerushalmi Shekalim, ch. 5): “One who says that the Holy One Blessed Be He foregoes matters, let his intestines be foregone.”
The Maggid explains the idea behind this teaching as follows. Consider a person who has many utensils. If some of them are spares, he is willing to forego holding on to them all, and lend a few to a neighbor. But if he has just one of every type for each member of his family, and they constantly use every type, he will not be openhanded. Even though he has many items, he will not forego a single one. Similarly, although the Torah has many mitzvos, Hashem is unwilling to forego a single one. Every mitzvah is essential. Hashem designed the Torah with various goals, and He built into it exactly one mitzvah to cover each goal. There are no “extra” mitzvos, and so it is no small matter if some are left out. A person who thinks otherwise is misguided. Let him reflect, our Sages say, on his own body. Let him imagine someone saying to him: “Listen, you have a few feet of intestines. I’d like to have some for a project I am working on. You can spare a couple of feet, can’t you?” Obviously this is ridiculous. If a person would forego a couple of feet of his intestines, his body’s functioning would be significantly impaired. In the same way, if Hashem would forego a few mitzvos, the Torah would no longer function as He designed it. We must follow the Torah to the letter.
David Zucker, Site Administrator

Tishah B’Av

Tishah B’Av is the day when the two Batei Mikdash were destroyed, and so we set aside this day to mourn for them. The Rambam notes three other major tragedies that occurred on Tishah B’Av, making for a total of five major tragedies. The very first of these was the decree against the generation of the wilderness that they would not enter the Land of Israel. The scouts returned with a negative report, and the people cried. Hashem said (Sotah 35a): “You cried to Me for naught; I will designate for you a time of crying for all generations.”
The Maggid, in explaining Hashem’s words, identifies two types of crying. One is crying out of true distress, such as a destitute person who lacks food and proper clothing crying out to Hashem for help. The second is petulant crying, such as a rich person getting upset when he sees a neighbor overtake him in wealth, and crying to Hashem over not having received enough. Hashem welcomes the first type of crying and disdains the second. Thus, David HaMelech declares (Tehillim 51:19): “The heart of a broken and downcast man, God will not despise.” It is the crying of a person who is truly downcast that Hashem does not despise. But the crying of a well-off person who gets rattled by something not to his liking, Hashem indeed despises.
The generation of the wilderness was eminently well-off. Hashem had granted them great blessing and glory. Hence, their crying was for naught – that is, it was the type of crying that does not merit any Divine reward. Therefore, Hashem designated for the Jewish People a time appropriate for crying, for all generations. He arranged that we would cry over the destruction of the Batei Mikdash – a crying for which we would earn great reward, as befits crying that comes forth out of true distress.
Hashem’s way of dealing with us can be compared to the way a rich man would deal with a son who has no interest in Torah study or business, but instead spends all his time strolling and singing. He would apprentice him to a chazzan, so that at least his talent for singing would be put to good use, rather than going for naught. Similarly, when we show a “talent” for crying, Hashem arranges for us to suffer calamity, so that this “talent” can be put to good use and yield us reward.
It follows from the Maggid’s words that a crucial step in escaping the cycle of calamity is to stamp out our tendency for crying and griping. Many people tend to get upset over minor mishaps; I must confess, with regret, that I suffer badly from this tendency, and must struggle hard to fight it. Each of us must fight this tendency, to whatever degree he or she suffers from it. In the merit of our efforts, may we be privileged to see the final redemption, when Hashem will put our suffering to an end.
David Zucker, Site Administrator

Parashas Devarim

The Midrash in Eichah Rabbah Pesichasa 11 contrasts a verse in this week’s parashah with a verse in Megillas Eichah:
Had you merited, you would have encountered the verse: “And as you saw in the wilderness how Hashem your God carried you like a man carries his son, the whole way (kol ha-derech) that you traveled, until you came to this place” (Devarim 1:31). Now that you have not merited, you encounter the verse: “Not so with you, all you passers–by (ovrei derech) – [look and see whether there is suffering like the suffering that has befallen me] (Eichah 1:12).
The Maggid links this Midrash with a famous episode recorded in the Gemara (Kesuvos 66b). Rabban Yochanan ben Zakkai saw the daughter of Nakdimon ben Gurion, a man who had been famous for his enormous wealth, gathering barley kernels from the excrement of the animals of lowly nomads. Upon witnessing this pitiful scene of abject poverty he declared: “Fortunate are you, O Israel! When you do Hashem’s will, no nation can have power over you. But when you do not do Hashem’s will, you are handed over to a lowly people – and not just to a lowly people, but to the animals of a lowly people.”
The Maggid cites a discussion of this Gemara in the Torah commentary Akeidas Yitzchak, by Rabbi Yitzchak Arama of Spain (1420-1494). Akeidas Yitzchak, Gate 84, points out that, in general, the more sophisticated a creation is, the more fragile it is. Thus, a plant is more fragile than a rock, a complex apparatus is more fragile than a simple one, and so on. When a highly sophisticated creation is marred, it becomes completely ruined. Now, the Jewish People, when they are in their proper state, represent the ultimate in sophistication. Hence, when they are marred, they suffer the ultimate in bad fortune, and become the world’s most degraded nation. Not only do the leading nations wield power over them, but also the lowliest of nations.
Thus, the outstanding prominence of the Jewish People has two facets. When Hashem exalts them, their majesty reaches heavenly heights. On the other hand, when He afflicts them,  their afflictions are without parallel anywhere in the world. These two facets have been manifested over the course of Jewish history. While we were in our land, we attained a level of majesty and splendor that was incalculably sublime and beyond all comparison. In the same way, in our current exile we suffer to an incalculably great extreme.
The Midrash reflects this pattern. In the days of the wilderness, Hashem showed us special favor: He carried us like a man carries his son the whole way that we traveled. Had we merited, we would have continued to receive such favor, and taken pride in our distinctive greatness. But now that we have not merited, the only distinction we can claim is our uniquely tragic level of degradation: “Look and see whether there is suffering like the suffering that has befallen me.” Indeed, no people has suffered as we have.
Let us strive to regain our glory. Let us plead: “Return us to You, Hashem, and we shall return. Renew our days as of old.”
David Zucker, Site Administrator