Parashas Beshallach

In the middle of this week’s parashah, the Torah discusses the manna that the Jewish People ate in the wilderness. Hashem says to Moshe (Shemos 16:4): “Behold, I shall cause bread from heaven to rain down for you, and the people shall go out and gather each day’s portion every day, so that I can test them, whether they will walk in My law, or not.” The Maggid analyzes how the manna represented such a test. He begins with the following Midrash about the manna (Shemos Rabbah 25:9):
“The people shall go out and gather each day’s portion every day.” It is written (Tehillim 68:20): “Blessed is Hashem day after day.” Said Hashem to the People of Israel: “It is with the instrument that a person uses for measuring that I measure out for him. I gave you the Torah so that you should involve yourselves with it day after day, as it is written (Mishlei 8:34): ‘Praiseworthy is the man who listens to Me, to keep watch at My doors day after day.’ And similarly (Yeshayah 58:2): ‘They seek Me day after day and desire to know My ways.’ By your lives, I will satiate you with bread from heaven day after day.’”
The Maggid expounds on the verse from Mishlei that the Midrash quotes. He notes that just as Hashem provides us with sustenance for the body, in the form of food and drink, He provides us also with sustenance for the soul, in the form of Torah, mitzvos, and good deeds. In this vein, Shlomo HaMelech compares wisdom to bread and wine (Mishlei 9:5). And just as a person can choose to subsist on a bare minimum of food and drink, so, too, a person can choose to subsist on a bare minimum of Torah – the daily morning and evening recital of the Shema, which covers the obligation to study Torah day and night (Menachos 99b). Commoners suffice with this minimum ration of Torah, but the eminent seek more. Thus David HaMelech declares (Tehillim 111:1): “Praiseworthy is the man who fears Hashem and greatly cherishes His commandments.” Here, David is speaking of the man whose soul thirsts and yearns for Hashem’s word so much that even if he studied Torah day and night for a lifetime, his desire would not be satisfied.
The Maggid brings out the idea with an analogy. He describes two similar scenarios. The first scenario involves a servant is standing in an outer room of his master’s house waiting for orders. He is not allowed to leave – he must remain in the room ready for his master’s call. The second scenario involves a merchant is standing in an outer room of someone’s house waiting to show him merchandise. The man of the house is busy, and tells the merchant that he will call him when he is able to speak with him. In the first scenario, the servant is waiting for his master’s call but he is actually hoping not to be called – he would rather stand idle than do chores. In the second scenario, by contrast, the merchant is eagerly awaiting his customer’s call.
In the verse from Mishlei, the Maggid says, Shlomo HaMelech is teaching us the attitude we should take toward Hashem’s directives. We should not be like the servant, hoping to be left alone. Rather, we should be like the merchant, eagerly awaiting Hashem’s call. Shlomo describes Hashem as saying: “Praiseworthy is the man who listens to Me.” Note the phrasing: “listens to Me” rather than “listens to My word.” Hashem’s statement can also be rendered another way: “Praiseworthy is the man who listens for Me.” Under this rendering, we can understand the statement as referring to the man who inclines his ear toward Hashem and waits expectantly for Hashem’s call – the man who serves Hashem out of love and constantly strives for added duties.
Now, it is generally not possible to tell how much a person cherishes Hashem’s word, for what the person shows to the outside world does not fully reflect what is in his heart. But there is one way to get a clear indication: by seeing how the person reacts to errands that will interrupt his Torah study. If a person considers such errands a nuisance, and is thankful whenever a friend offers to take care of such errands, this shows he loves Torah. But if a person is happy to have the chance to close his books and go out on an errand, this shows he lacks interest in Torah. We can now see easily how the manna represented a test of whether or not the Jewish People desired to walk in Hashem’s law. The manna relieved them of the need to work for their sustenance; they could gather their daily portion without any effort. If they rejoiced over being free to spend their time in Torah study, it would be clear that they considered the Torah precious.

Parashas Bo

In this week’s parashah, Hashem tells us to designate the month of Nisan, the month in which the redemption from Egypt took place, as the first month of the year (Shemos 12:2): “This month shall be unto you the chief of the months; it shall be the first unto you of the months of the year.” The Midrash expounds (Shemos Rabbah 15:12):
The redemption was for Me and for you: I, so to speak, was redeemed along with you. As it is written (Shmuel Beis 7:23): “Who is like Your people, like Yisrael, a unique people within the world – for whom God went forth to redeem for Himself as a people, gaining Himself renown, and performing for you great works and awesome acts for your land, before Your people whom You redeemed for Yourself from Egypt, [subduing] nations and their gods.” [The verse includes the phrases “for Himself” and “for Yourself” as well as the phrase “for you.”] Designate this month for Me and for you, because I see the blood of the Pesach offering and bring you atonement. … And let your joy be complete, even the one who is poor. A perfectly whole male lamb or kid, within its first year (Shemos 12:5) – A lamb or kid, because it was said (Bereishis 22:8), “God will seek out for Himself the lamb or kid for the burnt offering, my son.” Perfectly whole, for sake of the Name of Hashem, of whom is written (Devarim 32:4): “The Rock – perfect is His work.”
In discussing this Midrash, the Maggid begins by examining the directive that our joy should be complete, even the one who is poor. We find that Hashem consistently tells us to see to it that when we celebrate times of joy, we attend to the poor and make sure they also can rejoice. Thus, after assembling the Jewish People on Rosh Hashanah to teach them Torah, Ezra and Nechemiah told them to rejoice, and to send portions to those who lack (Nechemiah 8:10). Similarly, the laws of celebrating Purim include an obligation to give gifts to the poor. Likewise, in connection with the declaration the Torah tells a person to make in regard to the handling of tithes, in which a person is suppose to affirm that “I acted according to everything You commanded me,” the Sages teach that the intent of this affirmation is to say that “I rejoiced in the bounty You granted me, and I also distributed the proper tithes to make others rejoice” (see Yerushalmi, Maaser Sheini 5). The Maggid asks: Why is it crucial, in times of joy, to make sure the poor also rejoice?
He answers as follows. When someone is downcast because of misfortune, seeing a successful and happy man does not bring him joy. On the contrary, it makes him feel worse. Imagine a man who is starving for bread watching someone else eat his fill of fine delicacies. Not only does the sight not quiet his hunger, it magnifies it many times over. The same pattern appears in the emotional realm. When a rich man celebrates without providing for the needy, he creates a mixed situation: At the same time that his festivities bring him joy, they bring his less fortunate neighbors pain. The outcome is the very opposite of “perfectly whole,” and is contrary to what Hashem desires. In this vein, Shlomo HaMelech writes (Mishlei 10:22): “Hashem’s blessing is what brings wealth. Let it not bring along with it an increase of grief.” As a person rejoices in the wealth Hashem granted him, he must take care not to bring grief to the poor. Thus the Midrash tells us that we should make our joy complete, extending even to the one who is poor, and then concludes by saying that our offering should be perfectly whole, for the sake of the Name of Hashem, whose works are perfect.
The Maggid then turns to the Midrash’s opening segment. Hashem says: “The redemption is for Me and for you: I, so to speak, was redeemed along with you.” The Maggid analyzes the connection between this statement and the Midrash’s later statement, discussed just above, that we should make our joy complete, including even the one who is poor. Apparently the Midrash is saying that it is because the redemption is for Hashem and for us that we should provide for the poor. What does one have to do with the other? The Maggid explains as follows. The main reason Hashem redeemed us from Egypt was for the sake of His great Name, for He Himself, so to speak, was in exile along with us. Thus, Hashem told Yaakov (Bereishis 46:4): “I shall go down with you to Egypt.” Our hope for the final redemption is founded on the same notion. Hashem tells us (Yeshayah 48:11): “For My sake, for My sake, I shall do it, for how can [My Name] be profaned? And I shall not yield My honor to another.”
Various Midrashim teach that the Jewish People in Egypt did not deserve in their own right to be redeemed. In Shemos Rabbah 1:35, for example, the Sages teach that the Jewish People were bereft of good deeds, as hinted at in Yechezkel’s words (verse 16:7): “You were naked and bare.” Since Hashem granted us salvation from the Egyptian exile as a pure gift, it stands to reason that our rejoicing over this salvation should include every member of our people on an equal basis.
The Maggid brings out the point with a parable. A group of paupers was going together door to door seeking money to live on. They had with them some simple wares of the kind poor people typically sell: tzitzis, mezuzahs, and the like. Sometimes the person they approached was generous, and would give them a sum of money as a gift. And sometimes the person was not so generous, and would just buy a bit of what they had to sell. We can note one key difference between these two situations. If the person they approached had bought their wares, even if he handed over the money to just one of them, they would divide the money according to what each was due on account of the merchandise he had sold. But if the person gave them money as a gift, they would divide the money equally, for regarding a gift they were all on the same footing.
Similarly, if the Jewish People had attained redemption through the merit of their own good deeds, each Jew would have been entitled to rejoice in proportion to the contribution he made to the redemption. But, in fact, the redemption was not on our account. Hashem subdued the Egyptians for His own sake – to restore His honor, which had been impugned. He was, so to speak, redeeming Himself from exile. In the process, He redeemed the Jews as well, as a pure act of generosity. Hence all the Jews were on the same footing, and it would thus only be right for them to rejoice equally. Since the redemption was for the sake of the Name of Hashem, whose works are perfectly whole, it behooves us to take care – for the sake of Hashem’s Name – that our rejoicing is perfectly whole, encompassing all members of the community. The rejoicing that will take place at the time of the final redemption will also be for the sake of Hashem’s Name, and thus, in the same way, will extend to all segments of the Jewish population. Thus it is written (Yirmiyah 31:12): “Then the maiden will rejoice with dance, and the young men and the elders together.”
David Zucker, Site Administrator

Parashas Vaera

This week’s parashah presents the first seven of the ten plagues that Hashem brought upon Egypt. In telling Moshe to warn Pharaoh about the initial plague of blood, Hashem said (Shemos 7:14-18):
Pharaoh’s heart is stubborn; he refuses to let the people go. Go to Pharaoh in the morning … and say to him: “Hashem, the God of the Hebrews, sent me to you, saying, ‘Let My people go, that they may serve Me in the wilderness,’ and, behold, you have not listened up to now (ad coh). Thus (coh) says Hashem: ‘Through this you shall know that I am Hashem – behold, with the staff that is in my hand I shall strike the waters that are in the river, and they shall turn into blood. And the fish that are in the river shall die, and the river shall become foul, and the Egyptians shall be repelled from drinking water from the river.’”
Commenting on this passage, the Maggid analyzes the difference between the expression “Thus says Hashem” that appears here and the expression “This is the word that Hashem commanded” that appears in Bamidbar 30:2. The Midrash in Yalkut Shimoni, Torah, Sec. 784 notes that other prophets, just like Moshe, conveyed prophecies using the expression “Thus says Hashem,” but only Moshe conveyed prophecies using the expression “This is the word that Hashem commanded.” Both expressions serve to introduce a directive to perform or refrain from some action. The Maggid explains the difference between the two expressions as follows. The expression “Thus says Hashem” prefaces a substantive description of the nature and consequences of the action in question. By way of analogy, suppose Reuven wants to get Shimon to do something, but Shimon has no obligation to comply with what Reuven says. Shimon will first insist on knowing what the action entails, and Reuven will tell him: “Thus-and-so.” The expression “This is the word,” on the other hand, characterizes the directive as a order which must be obeyed no matter what it entails.
The fact that Moshe alone used the expression “This is the word,” whereas all other prophets used only the expression “Thus says Hashem,” reflects Moshe’s unique status as the premier prophet. Through the revelation at Sinai, Moshe was authenticated among the Jewish People as a consummately trustworthy agent of communication from Hashem to them – an agent whose reliability is beyond all doubt. Hence, whenever Moshe told the people what Hashem had said to him, the people accepted the message unquestioningly. Moshe could say “This is the word that Hashem commanded,” and the people would be prepared to accept the command without any analysis of its content. The messages of other prophets were not accorded this blanket acceptance; rather, the people first examined whether the message comported with the Torah tradition handed down from Sinai, and if they identified any conflict, they would reject the message. The person who related the message would be declared a false prophet, and would be put to death as the Torah prescribes (Devarim 13:2-6). Accordingly, all other prophets aside from Moshe introduced their prophecies with the expression “Thus says Hashem,” an expression that puts emphasis on the content of the message, because the people had to analyze the content to determine whether the message was reliable.
With this background, the Maggid turns to the statement Hashem told Moshe to make to Pharaoh. The statement begins: “Hashem, the God of the Hebrews, sent me to you, saying, ‘Let My people go, that they may serve Me in the wilderness.’” The fact that Hashem, the Master of the Universe, had issued this order should have been enough for Pharaoh to comply with fearful alacrity. But Pharaoh refused, saying (Shemos 5:2): “Who is Hashem, that I should heed His voice to send out Yisrael? I do not know Hashem, and I will not send Yisrael out!” Pharaoh’s words suggested that once he came to “know” Hashem and was firmly convinced of His existence, He would obey Hashem’s orders. In response, Hashem told Moshe to show Pharaoh a miracle – converting his staff to a snake and then converting it back again. Hashem’s intent was that these supernatural effects would make Pharaoh convinced of His existence and thus prepared to accept His orders regardless of their content. But, even after being shown the miracle, Pharaoh maintained a hard heart and refused to listen to what Moshe and Aharon told him in Hashem’s Name. From that point on, it became necessary to spell out to Pharaoh the consequences he would suffer if he failed to obey Hashem’s command to release the Jewish People – he had to be warned of the fearsome plagues Hashem would cast upon him for his disobedience. A simple statement that Hashem had ordered him to do something was not enough.
Accordingly, the quote from Hashem continues: “Behold, you have not listened “ad coh.” Hashem was saying: “I see that you will not listen until you receive a message of the type prefaced by coh – a substantive description of the consequences of refusing to comply.” And Hashem told Moshe to follow up with a detailed message of precisely this form: “Thus (coh) says Hashem: ‘Through this you shall know that I am Hashem – behold, with the staff that is in my hand I shall strike the waters that are in the river, and they shall turn into blood. And the fish that are in the river shall die, and the river shall become foul, and the Egyptians shall be repelled from drinking water from the river.’”
In his Yerios HaOhel footnote on the Maggid’s commentary here, Rav Flamm expands on the concept of accepting Hashem’s decree for the simple reason that Hashem decreed it. He notes that the Jewish People’s pledge at Sinai – “we will do and we will listen” – was along these lines: When presented with the Torah, they were prepared to comply first and receive explanations later. Rav Flamm also calls attention to the Midrashic teaching (Bereishis Rabbah 39:9) that when Hashem gives a righteous person a mission, He initially conceals the details of what the mission entails and only afterward discloses them. A righteous person is prepared to accept Hashem’s decrees without knowing in advance exactly what they entail. Similarly, in one of the discussions between Moshe and Pharaoh about the Jewish People’s journey to the wilderness to serve Hashem, Moshe said (Shemos 10:26): “We will not know in what way we will serve Hashem until we arrive there.” An essential element of the Jewish People’s mode of serving Hashem is not knowing exactly what they will be called upon to do until the time comes for them to do it.
As we go through life, we face situations that may lead us to wonder: “What exactly is it that Hashem is asking from me now?” (I personally have found myself thinking this way many times ….) We must strive to press ahead with the missions Hashem gives us, even when we do not know exactly where they will lead to, and maintain faith in Hashem’s plans.

Parashas Shemos

In the opening segment of this week’s parashah, the Torah relates (Shemos 1:6-12):
And Yosef died, and all his brothers, and that entire generation. And the Children of Israel were fruitful, and swarmed, and multiplied, and grew very, very mighty, and the land was filled with them. And a new king arose over Egypt, who did not know Yosef. And he said to his people: “Behold, the people of the Children of Israel are too many and too mighty for us. Come, let us deal wisely with them, lest they multiply, so that it may be, if war occurs, that they also join our enemies and fight against us, and go up from the land.” Thus, they set taskmasters over them to afflict them with their burdens. And they built for Pharaoh storage cities, Pisom and Raamses. And just as they afflicted them, thus did they multiply and thus did they spread, and they became disgusted because of the Children of Israel.
The Maggid comments as follows. Our Sages teach that the Jewish People’s enslavement in Egypt did not begin until all of Yaakov’s sons had died. Thus, Yosef’s death triggered the onset of the enslavement. Now, the enslavement was put into effect by the new king who arose over Egypt, as indicated at the end the above passage. But before the enslavement was put into effect, Hashem caused the Jewish People to grow extremely numerous.
Hashem brought about this great population increase for a specific purpose. Our Sages teach that the exile and enslavement in Egypt caused the Jewish People to degenerate. As David HaMelech writes (Tehillim 106:35): “And the mingled among the nations, and learned their ways.” Similarly, the statement that “the Egyptians did us evil” (Devarim 26:6) can be interpreted a meaning “the Egyptians made us evil.” Hashem saw in advance that this degeneration would take place, and that the Jewish People would lose their spiritual wholeness. He therefore arranged for them to become extremely numerous, so that there would be enough virtues among all of them together to make up one upright and spiritually whole man. And as the enslavement continued, Hashem maintained this state of affairs. In this vein, the Torah says: “And just as they afflicted them, thus did they multiply and thus did they spread.” The added afflictions that the Egyptians imposed on the Jewish People caused further degeneration, and to compensate Hashem made the Jewish People grow ever more numerous.
Note: Today, the 17th of Teves, marks the Maggid’s 207th Yahrzeit.
David Zucker, Site Administrator

Haftaras Vayechi

This week’s haftarah records David HaMelech’s last words before his death, including a final charge to his son and successor Shlomo. One of these charges runs as follows (Melachim Alef 2:7): “And be gracious to the sons of Barzilai the Gileadite, and let them be among those who eat at your table, for they drew close to me when I fled your brother Avshalom.” With this charge, David was seeking to repay the sons of Barzilai for the favorable reception they extended him. Why, then, asks the Maggid, does David frame the matter in terms of “being gracious” when apparently he was merely telling Shlomo to return the favor that the sons of Barzilai had done for him?
The key to understanding David’s intent, the Maggid explains, is the phrasing he chose in describing what the sons of Barzilai had done: David did not say that they had drawn him close, but rather that they drew close to him. The difference between the two phrasings can be explained as follows. A person who draws close to a great man gains honor thereby, but the great man himself gains much more honor – the fact that someone else sought a connection with him demonstrates his greatness. Now, through that reception that the sons of Barzilai gave David, they extended him two benefits. First, they gave him food and drink, and supplied him with his other needs. Second, in the way they acted toward him, they demonstrated that they did not view him as an ordinary person, but still regarded him as the king. The proof was that they drew themselves close to him, thereby showing him special honor. David’s choice of words in describing their actions stresses this point.
David did not regard the food and drink that the sons of Barzilai gave him as a notable kindness, for it is basic human decency to provide food and drink to a person in need, even if the person is lowly. But he did regard as a notable kindness their maintaining allegiance to him as king. He therefore commanded his Shlomo to reciprocate and show them special graciousness and honor, going beyond simple compensation for their hospitality.
Specifically, David told Shlomo that they should be “among those who eat at your table.” Here again we have a careful choice of phrasing: “eat at your table” rather than “eat from your table.” Had David said that they should eat “from your table,” the message would have been that Shlomo should provide them food, which would have been really no more than simple compensation. But instead he said that they should eat “at your table” – that they should be made part of the esteemed inner circle of men who dine with the king himself. In granting this special honor, Shlomo would be extending them a considerable kindness. True, the sons of Barzilai had previously honored David, but the honor that David told Shlomo to show them went go well beyond the honor they showed him. In the reception the sons of Barzilai gave David, they did not really grant him added honor – they simply took care to show him the honor he was rightfully due as king, rather than rebelling against him or impugning his position as others were doing. By contrast, they would now be receiving a great boost of honor – originally they were ordinary citizens, and now they would become members of the king’s inner circle. Such a boost of honor is truly an act of graciousness.
David Zucker, Site Administrator

Parashas Vayiggash

This week’s parashah opens with Yehudah’s plea to the viceroy of Egypt (whom he did not know to be his own brother Yosef) to free Binyamin and take him as a slave in Binyamin’s stead. Yehudah reviews some of the family background, including Yosef’s apparent death, and then says (Bereishis 44:30-31): “And now, when I come to your servant my father, and the lad [Binyamin] is not with us – since his [my father’s] soul is bound up with his [the lad’s] soul – it will come to pass, when he sees that the lad is not with us, that he will die, and your servants will have brought the gray hairs of your servant our father with sorrow down to the grave.” The Maggid asks why Yehudah includes the phrase “when he sees that the lad with not with us.” The phrase appears unnecessary, for the message seemingly would get across well enough without it: “When I come your servant my father, and the lad is not with us – since his [my father’s] soul is bound up with his [the lad’s] soul – it will come to pass that he will die.” The Maggid also asks on what grounds Yehudah argues, as suggested by the phrase “and now” at the beginning of the quoted segment, that what he had said up to that point proved conclusively that Yaakov would die if the brothers returned without Binyamin.
The Maggid explains that Yehudah was apparently seeking to pre-empt a possible counterargument that the viceroy whom he stood before might make. The viceroy might claim that the only reason Yaakov cherished Binyamin so much was because of his exemplary conduct (following in his forefathers’ footsteps), but once he heard that Binyamin had been caught stealing his silver goblet, Yaakov’s esteem for Binyamin would dissipate entirely and he would feel no sorrow over losing him. On the contrary, Yaakov, given his own saintliness, would regard Binyamin as an embarrassment. Yehudah therefore astutely presented facts that would nullify such a claim. He said (ibid. 44:20-29):
We said to my lord: “We have a father, an old man, and a young child of his old age; his brother is dead, and he alone is left from his mother, and his father loves him.” And you said to your servants: “Bring him down to me, that I may set my eye on him.” And we said to my lord: “The lad cannot leave his father, for if he should leave his father, he [his father] would die.” … And our father said: “Go back, buy us a little food.” And we said: “We cannot go down. If our youngest brother will be with us, then will we go down, for we may not see the man’s face unless our youngest brother is with us.” And your servant my father said to us: “You know that my wife bore me two sons; one left me, and I said to myself, ‘Surely he has been torn to pieces,’ and I have not seen him since. And if you take this one also from me, and harm befalls him, you will bring down my gray hairs with sorrow to the grave. “
Yehudah was pointing out that Yaakov feared deeply that Binyamin would meet the same tragic end as his brother Yosef, and that from the moment Binyamin left home to go to Egypt with his brothers he was gripped with worry that Binyamin would not return. And he was telling the viceroy that, this being so, “when he sees that the lad with not with us” – the very second he sees that Binyamin is missing – Yaakov will die instantly, for he will automatically conclude that Binyamin had been killed. There would be no chance to tell Yaakov what had actually happened, and thus no chance for Yaakov’s attachment to Binyamin to be dissolved by hearing Binyamin had been found guilty of theft.
David Zucker, Site Administrator

Parashas Mikeitz

In this week’s parashah we read about how Yaakov’s ten oldest sons traveled to Egypt to buy food, and received tough treatment from the Egyptian viceroy – who, unknown to them, was their brother Yosef whom they had sold into slavery years before. As the sons prepared to make their second trip to Egypt, this time with the youngest brother Binyamin, Yaakov gave them the following blessing (Bereishis 43:14): “May God Almighty (Ei­-l Shadd-ai) grant you mercy before the man.” The Midrash remarks (Bereishis Rabbah 92:1):
R. Pinchas expounded in the name of R. Hoshaia: “‘Fortunate is the man who is chastised by Y-ah’ (Tehillim 94:12). Here, Hashem’s four-letter name is not used, but rather specifically the name Y-ah. It is a like a person who is being sentenced by a judge and cries out in agony: ‘Yaah, yaah – enough (dai), enough.’ Thus said Yaakov: ‘May the One who in the future will say “enough” to affliction now say “enough” to my afflictions.’”
The Midrash remarks further (Bereishis Rabbah 92:3):
R. Yoshia ben Levi interpreted Yaakov’s statement as referring to the exiles. Yaakov said: “May God Almighty grant you mercy.” It is written (Tehillim 106:46): “He caused them to be treated with mercy by all their captors.” Yaakov continued: “Before the man.” Here, “the man” alludes to the Holy One Blessed Be He, as it is written (Shemos 15:3): “Hashem is a man of war, Hashem is His Name.”
Elsewhere in the same section, the Midrash expounds (Bereishis Rabbah 92:2):
“For this let every devout man pray at a time when [trouble] abides (eis metzo)” (Tehillim 32:6). At a time when the day has run its course (mitui ha-yom), at a time when the judgment has run its course, at a time when the soul has run its course, at a time when the accounting has run its course. When Yaakov saw that the account had run its course, he began pouring forth supplications, saying: “May God Almighty (Ei-l Shadd-ai) grant you mercy before the man.”
The Maggid explains these Midrashim in terms of the principle that the experiences of the forefathers presage those of the Jewish People throughout history. He brings out the message with a clever parable.
A little baby boy who was being fed by a wet-nurse got sick. His parents took him to a doctor, who told them that the baby would recover readily if he would be made to vomit. He recommended that the wet-nurse take a certain vomiting-inducing drug, so that the baby would ingest the drug as he nursed and would be led to vomit as needed. The nurse realized that the drug would have a very harsh effect on her, but she willingly accepted this suffering because she wanted the baby to get well. So she started taking the drug. She got down half the prescribed dose and started feeling extremely sick. She approached the doctor and said: “I think the amount of drug I have taken so far is enough to cure the baby, and I can stop now rather than take the rest.” The doctor replied: “I am sorry, my dear lady, but you must take the full dose for the treatment to work.”
The nurse listened to the doctor and took the rest of the drug, and afterward began to nurse the baby. After he had taken in a bit of her milk, he started vomiting nonstop and lost all his strength. The doctor was quickly called in. When he arrived and saw how violently the baby was vomiting, he said: “I have to admit that I made a mistake and prescribed an excessive dose. But don’t worry – I know how to bring the baby out of this state.” He squirted a few drops of a very potent antidote into the baby’s mouth, and the baby stopped vomiting. The nurse then started to wail, and she said: “Why did I have to take all this harsh medicine and suffer so much? When I had taken half the dose, I told you it was enough. Why did I have to go through all this agony for nothing?”
The parallel is as follows. Our forefathers went through a variety of harsh experiences that they themselves, based on their own actions, did not deserve, but were brought upon them for the sake of their descendants. By going through these troubles and gaining salvation from them, they produced a reservoir of salvation which their descendants could draw from in times of need throughout all generations. Yaakov, the premier forefather (all of whose sons served as the head of a Jewish tribe) and the last among them, bore an especially trying series of misfortunes – each of which, in some form, would later befall the Jewish People later in history. Although he suffered tremendously, he accepted the suffering for the benefit of his descendants.
But when Yaakov went through the tragedy of losing Yosef, with all the fallout that ensued, his suffering became overwhelming. Knowing that whatever he went through was only a small fraction of what his descendants would go through, he thought to himself: “If my descendants go through the degree of suffering that is foreshadowed by the suffering I am going through now, surely they will not have the wherewithal to survive.” He therefore pleaded with Hashem to relieve his descendants of such suffering, and Hashem assented. Yaakov then had a claim against Hashem: “I knew that You would show pity for my descendants and refrain from bringing on them the severe suffering foreshadowed by my suffering. When, then, did You bring this suffering on me for nothing?”
We can now understand what R. Hoshaia means when he compares Yaakov to a person being sentenced by a judge and crying out in agony, “Yaah, yaah – enough (dai), enough,” and then describes him pleading: “May the One who in the future will say ‘enough’ to affliction now say ‘enough’ to my afflictions.” Yaakov is not, far be it, rebelling against afflictions. Rather, he is saying to Hashem: “Since You will ultimately say ‘enough’ to the afflictions of my descendants, You can say ‘enough’ to my afflictions now. I do not need to go through further afflictions for their sake.” The teaching of R. Yoshia ben Levi follows the same line: Yaakov is saying that since Hashem will arrange for the Jewish People to be treated with a measure of mercy while in exile, He can grant his sons a measure of mercy as they travel to Egypt. The Midrash linking Yaakov’s plea to Tehillim 32:6 is in a similar vein. Yaakov pled for mercy only after he saw that “the judgment had run its course” – that is, that the afflictions he and sons were suffering had begun to go beyond what was needed to safeguard future generations. Had this not been so, Yaakov would have willingly endured further afflictions for the sake of his descendants.
David Zucker, Site Administrator

Haftaras Vayeishev

This week’s haftarah from the Book of Amos closes with the following passage (Amos 3:1-8):
Hear this word that Hashem has spoken regarding you, O Children of Yisrael – regarding the whole family which I brought up out of the land of Egypt, saying: “You alone have I known of all the families of the earth; therefore, I will take account of you regarding all your iniquities. Do two people walk together, if they have not so planned? Does a lion roar in the forest, when it has no prey? Does a young lion give forth its voice from its den, if it has not made a catch? Does a bird fall into a trap on the ground if there is no snare? Does a trap lift off the ground without making a catch? Can a shofar be blown in a city, and the people not tremble? Can evil befall a city if Hashem did not bring it about? For the Lord God will do nothing without revealing His counsel to His servants the prophets. The lion has roared – who will not fear? The Lord God, has spoken – who will not convey the prophecy?”
The Maggid notes that the various rhetorical questions that this passage presents are puzzling, but Amos’s message can be explained well through the following Midrashic commentary on the passage (Yalkut Shimoni, Nach, 540):
“Can a shofar be blown in a city, and the people not tremble?” We can explain this verse with a parable. A country was ridden with invading soldiers, and a certain elder there warned all its residents of the danger. All those who listened to him were saved, while all those who did not listen were killed by the invaders. Thus it is written (Yechezkel 3:17): “O son of man, I have set you as a sentinel for the House of Israel; You hear the word from My mouth and you warn them of Me.” And similarly here. Can a shofar be blown in a city – on Rosh Hashanah – and the people not tremble? If evil befalls a city, Hashem did not bring it about [homiletical rendering of the end of the verse]. Hashem does not desire the death of evildoers, as it is written (Yechezkel 18:32): “For I do not desire the death of the one who deserves to die.”
The key idea is reflected in Amos’s statement that “the Lord God will do nothing without revealing His counsel to His servants the prophets.” When a mortal man plans to cause a person harm, he hides his plan so that the person will not guard himself against them. By contrast, when Hashem plans to inflict harm on people, He discloses His plan to the prophets, in order to stir the people to repent and thereby escape the harm. The above Midrash brings out this idea. If, far be it, Hashem wished for the wicked to die, He would pass sentence on them without notice. But instead He openly informs one and all of the day He sits in judgment. As it is written (Tehillim 81:4-5): “Blow the shofar at the moon’s renewal, at the time appointed for our festival day [Rosh Hashanah]. For it is a decree unto Yisrael, a judgment [day] for the God of Yaakov.” Announcing the day of judgment is an act of love on Hashem’s part, aimed at leading the wayward to return to Him. Hashem opens the way to repentance to all sinners who wish to forsake their evil ways. He gives us the opportunity to prepare ourselves for the day of judgment and develop strategies for shielding ourselves against negative decrees. And so, Amos tells us, those who feel no fear when the shofar is blown and are not stirred to repent have only themselves to blame when misfortune befalls them. They have no cause to complain about how Hashem treated them, for Hashem mercifully gave fair warning.
With this background, the Maggid proceeds to explain Hashem’s declaration in the passage from the haftarah sentence by sentence. Hashem begins: “You alone have I known of all the families of the earth; therefore, I will take account of you regarding all your iniquities.” Hashem is telling us that, out of His love for us, He takes account of us regarding our sins, and sends us warning of the punishment we face for them, so that we can take steps to avoid it. Hashem continues: “Do two people walk together, if they have not so planned?” If two people are on friendly terms, they will plan a joint journey and walk together. But if one person plans to destroy another person, he will hide from his intended victim to keep the victim from noticing his plan. Hashem then says: “Does a lion roar in the forest, when it has no prey? Does a young lion give forth its voice from its den, if it has not made a catch?” These rhetorical questions bring out the same idea: Before the lion catches his prey, it refrains from roaring, so that the prey it is stalking will not flee.
This initial series of rhetorical questions relates to how a mortal man acts when he plans to bring a person harm. Hashem, on the other hand, before He brings a person misfortune, calls out in full voice so that the person can save himself. The next series of rhetorical questions develops this idea. Hashem says: “Does a bird fall into a trap on the ground if there is no snare?” He is saying that misfortune will not hover over a person to entrap him unless the person harbors within his soul a snare – that is, a sin. As the Gemara says (Shabbos 55a): “No affliction comes upon a person unless he is guilty of some sin.” Hashem continues: “Does a trap lift off the ground without making a catch?” This rhetorical question reflects the other side of the coin – that, without repentance, no sin is passed over without some punishment. If the trap of sin is set off, it surely will catch the evildoer. We therefore have no reason to regard prophecies of retribution with askance, for we could have figured out on our own that our sins will lead to our being punished, for Hashem is a God of absolute justice. It is out of His great compassion that He sends us such prophecies to warn us in advance, so that we may repent and save ourselves. Hashem then continues further: “Can a shofar be blown in a city, and the people not tremble? If evil befalls a city, Hashem did not bring it about.” If we disregard the shofar blast that Hashem sends as a warning, and we fail to repent, the misfortune we ultimately suffer is not Hashem’s doing, but our own. Hashem then says: “For the Lord God will do nothing without revealing His counsel to His servants the prophets.” Hashem announces the impending punishment to give us a chance to repent, and if misfortune strikes, we ourselves are at fault. It is just as in the Midrash’s parable about the people in the invader-ridden country who were warned by one of the elders. If we disregard Hashem’s danger warning, we will be smitten. But if we heed the warning, we will be safe.
David Zucker, Site Administrator

Parashas Vayishlach

This week’s parashah recounts Yaakov’s encounter with Eisav. Upon returning to Eretz Yisrael, Yaakov sent messengers to Eisav to inform him of his return. The messengers came back to Yaakov with a report that Eisav was heading toward him with a legion of four hundred men. Yaakov was struck with fear, and he prayed to Hashem to save him. He also sent Eisav a series of gifts to appease him. Ultimately the two brothers met, and Yaakov bowed down before Eisav seven times. The Midrash remarks (Bereishis Rabbah 75:2):
In connection with this episode, R. Yehudah bar Siemon expounded on the following verse (Mishlei 25:26): “Like a muddied spring and a ruined fountain, so is the righteous one who bows before the wicked.” Said R. Yehudah bar Siemon: “Just a spring cannot become muddied and a fountain cannot be ruined, so, too, a righteous man cannot bow before a wicked one. And like a muddied spring and a ruined fountain, so is the righteous one who causes himself to bow before the wicked. Said the Holy One Blessed Be He: ‘He [Eisav] was going his own way, and you sent messengers to tell him, “Thus said your servant Yaakov ….”’”
The Maggid raises two questions about this teaching. First, it seems self-contradictory. R. Yehudah bar Siemon initially says: “Just a spring cannot become muddied and a fountain cannot be ruined, so, too, a righteous man cannot bow before a wicked one. “ He is saying it cannot happen. But then he says: “And like a muddied spring and a ruined fountain, so is the righteous one who causes himself to bow before the wicked.” How can we understand this curious reversal? Second, regarding the verse from Mishlei itself, what is the meaning of the simile of the muddied spring and ruined fountain?
The Maggid then answers as follows. Yeshayah declares (verse 12:3): “And you shall joyfully draw water from the springs of salvation.” Yeshayah is saying that Divine salvation is like a spring. Just as someone who needs water can procure it easily from a flowing spring, so, too, someone who needs Divine salvation can procure it easily through prayer. As it is written (Yeshayah 56:1): “My salvation is near in coming.” And similarly (Tehillim 85:10): “Indeed, His salvation is near to those who fear Him.” When we pray, we are not – far be it – trying to get Hashem to “change His mind” and grant us something He was not originally planning to provide us. Rather, we are tapping into the spring of salvation that He makes available to us for our taking by coming near to Him. As indicated in Tehillim 33:22, the extent of the blessing we receive from Hashem is determined by the extent to which we turn to Him and put our hope and trust in Him.
Now, a spring will continue to gush forth so long as the earth surrounding it is solid. But if the surrounding earth is soft and weak, it will cave in and stop up the spring with mud. Similarly, if a person’s faith in Hashem is solid, and he relies with firm and vibrant conviction on Hashem’s protection, then his spring of salvation will flow with vigor. But if a person’s faith is shaky and weak, and he is in constant fear that misfortune will sprout in some area of his life, his fears muck up his spring of salvation and cause its flow to cease.
Thus, R. Yehudah bar Siemon first says: “Just a spring cannot become muddied and a fountain cannot be ruined, so, too, a righteous man cannot bow before a wicked one.” Just as in the natural order of the world, a flowing spring does not suddenly become muddied, so, too, in the normal order of the world, a righteous man is not suddenly led to bow before a wicked one. R. Yehudah bar Siemon then says: “And like a muddied spring and a ruined fountain, so is the righteous one who causes himself to bow before the wicked.” In both the case of the spring and the case of the righteous man, a downturn is induced by an abnormal weakening in the foundations. R. Yehudah bar Siemon speaks of a righteous man who causes himself to bow before the wicked – the righteous man brings degradation on his own self by straying from the path of faith and trust in Hashem and allowing fear of the wicked to enter his heart. Yaakov strayed in this way – he was afraid of Eisav and was thereby led to engage in diplomacy with him by sending messengers. Hashem rebuked him for this action, saying: “Eisav was going his own way, and you sent messengers to him. You committed a misstep.”
In describing Yaakov’s reaction to the report of Eisav’s approach with a massive legion, the Torah says that “Yaakov was very frightened, and he was distressed” (Bereishis 32:8). We can interpret this statement in line with the discussion above. Yaakov understood that by sending the messengers, he himself had created the situation that prompted his fright. He therefore was distressed over what he had done, deeply regretting his misguided move.
David Zucker, Site Administrator

Parashas Vayeitzei

This week’s parashah opens by describing the dream Yaakov had at the site of the Beis HaMikdash. The Torah relates that when Yaakov awoke from his dream, he declared (Bereishis 28:16-17):
Indeed, Hashem is present in this place, and I did not know. … How awesome is this place! This is none other than the House of God – it is the gate to heaven.
In Ohel Yaakov, Bereishis, the Maggid raises two issues about this declaration. First, it is repetitious: Yaakov initially says that “Hashem is present in this place” and then he expresses the same idea again, saying, “How awesome is this place! This is none other than the House of God.” Second, and even more in need of examination, is the following question: Why did Yaakov speak of the place being “none other” than the House of God, as if he were trying to counter some people who were arguing otherwise? The Maggid then explains Yaakov’s words as relating to an issue that many thinkers have considered: Given that Hashem’s glory fills the entire earth (Yeshayah 6:3), how is the Beis HaMikdash Hashem’s abode more than any other place?
He brings out the idea with a parable. A person visiting his country’s royal capital city tours the streets and marketplaces to see the grand buildings there. He notices an especially magnificent fortified mansion and asks whose it is. He is told that it is the king’s palace. He enters into the outer courtyard of the palace and he sees many individual dwelling chambers there. He asks some people about these chambers, and they tell him that each one belongs to a different member of the king’s court: the king’s doctor, his advisors, his ministers, and so on. Eventually, he reaches the splendid inner chamber where the king himself lives. He asks about this chamber as well, and he is told: “This is the king’s chamber.” Baffled, he replies: “You told me before that entire mansion belongs to the king. Now you are telling me that this chamber alone belongs to him.” The people responded: “It is indeed true that the entire mansion is the king’s. At the same time, the king granted use of the outer chambers to the various members of his court, each according to his needs. But this chamber here belongs exclusively to the king. It is set aside for his use alone, and he does not allow anyone to enter it except by appointment, and those who enter must be dressed in fine clothes in his honor.”
Similarly, Hashem owns the entire world, but He grants use of most of it to us humans and to the other creations He put here. He provides each of us a domain within the world to use as he needs, while maintaining His presence in every one of these domains. He is with us even when we are defiled, as it is written (Vayikra 16:16): “Who dwells with them in the midst of their defilement” (see Yoma 57a). At the same time, He set aside a special place within the world to serve specifically as a seat for His Name – the Mikdash. Only Kohanim qualified to perform the Mikdash service could enter the main Mikdash grounds, and only under set conditions. Entry to the Holy of Holies was restricted even to the Kohen Gadol, as it is written (Vayikra 16:2-3): “He shall not come at all times into the [inner] Sanctuary, within the curtain … with this shall Aharon come into the [inner] Sanctuary ….” The Mikdash was exclusively Hashem’s domain.
When Yaakov awoke from the dream he had at the site of the Mikdash, he declared: “Indeed, Hashem is present in this place.” He then felt a need to elaborate, and he exclaimed: “How awesome is the place!” He marveled at how the place was much more awesome than any other place on earth. He then explained to himself why the place was so awesome: “This is none other than the House of God” – it was the place that Hashem had set aside for Himself alone.
In Sefer HaMiddos, Shaar HaYirah, Chapter 4, the Maggid discusses this idea further. He says that, while we are supposed to feel fear of Hashem with all our being and at all times, there are places that call for an elevated degree of fear – Batei Knesses and Batei Midrash, which are set aside for prayer and Torah study, and the places which had been specially infused with the Divine Presence in earlier times, such as the place where the Beis HaMikdash stood. A person should not be “like a horse or a mule, devoid of understanding” (Tehillim 32:9) and treat these places casually, as if he were in his own home. If he acts this way, Hashem’s anger is directed toward him. Regarding people who do not show proper reverence for holy places, Hashem declares (Yeshayah 1:12): “When you come to appear before Me – who asked this of you, to trample my courtyards?” And He declares further (Yirmiyahu 7:11): “Has this house, upon which My Name was called, become a criminal’s den in your eyes?” Rather, a person should enter a holy place with the utmost humility, and while he is there he should continually bear in mind its great loftiness. He should imagine how he would act and feel if he were meeting with important officers – how he would humble himself, how all his limbs would tremble, and how he would be acutely aware of his state of fear. If this is how he would act and feel in the chamber of mortal governors, all the more should he be filled with fear in the house of the King of All Worlds, the Holy One Blessed Be He.
L’ilui nishmas R’ Shimon Feivel Shraga ben R’ Mordechai HaLevi Grossnass z”l
Passed away on Sunday 14th November 2010 – 7th Kislev 5771
David Zucker, Site Administrator