Parashas Toldos

This week’s parashah deals with two topics: the birth and development of Eisav and Yaakov, and Yitzchak’s sojourn in the Philistine city of Gerar. We present here a selection from the Maggid’s commentary on the second of these topics.
Yitzchak travels to Gerar because of a famine, grows very successful, and then is driven out. The Philistine king Avimelech tells him (Bereishis 26:16): “Go away from being with us, for you have grown much mightier than us.” Later, Avimelech and his men approach Yitzchak. The Torah relates (Bereishis 26:27-29):
And Yitzchak said to them: “Why have you come to me, when you hated me and drove me away from you?” They said: “We saw clearly that Hashem was with you, so we said, ‘Let there now be an oath between us, respectively – between us and you – and let us establish a pact with you.’”
The Maggid interprets this exchange as follows. In Avimelech’s prior eviction message to Yitzchak, the Hebrew phrase ki atzamta mimenu meod, meaning literally “for you have grown much mightier than us,” can be rendered as “for you have grown very mighty on our account” (reading mimenu as meaning “from us” rather than “than us”). According to the Midrash in Bereishis Rabbah 64:7, Avimelech was arguing that Yitzchak attained all his wealth at the Philistines’ expense. We can explain the matter as follows. Success can be classified into two types: success through the natural means of making a livelihood and success through extraordinary (e.g., miraculous) means. One basic difference between these two types is that success through natural means is typically gradual, from level to level, while success through extraordinary means typically involves a sudden jump from one extreme to the other. Another basic difference is that people tend to bear a grudge against a neighbor who achieves success by natural means, but not against one who achieves success by extraordinary means. When a neighbor achieves success through a certain trade, people tend to say: “If he weren’t doing business here, we’d be making the money he is making, for we also are skilled in this trade.” In the case of success through extraordinary means, this argument does not apply. Thus, for example, if a person has a rich uncle in a distant city who sends him a hefty sum of money every month, no one has any reason to bear a grudge against him, for he is not taking anything away from anybody.
Now, Yitzchak’s success was gradual, as the Torah states (Bereishis 26:13): “The man became great, and grew successively greater, until he was very great.” Thus, his success appeared to be of a natural sort. It is true that Yitzchak reaped an extremely bountiful crop – a hundredfold. But, still, he operated within the natural farming cycle – he did not reap, in the manner described in Yeshayah 17:11, immediately after he planted. The Philistines therefore accused him of encroaching on their territory and infringing on their livelihood. But afterward they saw that, even after Yitzchak left their territory, he continued to succeed in everything he did, while they remained at the same economic level as before, gaining nothing from his departure. They saw that Yitzchak was successful because Hashem was with him. And they realized, in retrospect, that the success Yitzchak attained while he lived among them was also a special blessing from Hashem, with no infringement against them whatsoever. Avimelech’s reply to Yitzchak’s query about why he had approached him reflects a new understanding on the Philistines’ part. In his reply, Avimelech uses a double verb: reo raeenu – we saw clearly. This double verb alludes to the fact that what the Philistines saw after Yitzchak had left them led them to see properly what had been taking place before. They recognized that Yitzchak’s success was due simply to his being “blessed of Hashem.”
David Zucker, Site Administrator

Parashas Chaiyei Sarah

The beginning of this week’s parashah records Avraham’s negotiation with the men of Cheis to acquire a burial site for Sarah. After Avraham makes his initial request, the men of Cheis answer him (Bereishis 23:6): “Hear us, my lord: You are a prince of God in our midst. Bury your dead in the best of our burial sites; no man among us will withhold his burial site from you to bury your dead.” The Midrash elaborates on what they were saying (Bereishis Rabbah 58:6): “You are a prince over us, you are a king over us, you are a God over us.” The Maggid explains that they were telling him: “You need not buy a burial site from us for money. You are a prince and a king over us, so you can take from us whatever burial site you please, even the choicest, and no one will hold you back, just as a king can freely take for his own use any field within his kingdom.”
The Maggid then elaborates on the type of honor the men of Cheis showed Avraham. They regarded Avraham as a king, and honored him on that basis. Now, it is natural for people to honor a king, but we find a hint in Havakkuk 2:16 that the honor a person receives is not always to his credit. Regarding the Babylonian king Nevuchadnetzar, Havakkuk writes: savata kalon mi-kavod. Literally this phrase means: “You are sated more with disgrace than with honor.” But since the prefix mi- can mean from or through as well as more than, we can render the verse as: “You are sated with disgrace through honor.” Thus, honor can sometimes bring disgrace. When is this so? And how can we see from what the men of Cheis said to Avraham whether the honor they gave him was to his credit or to his disgrace?
When we speak of honor, we usually mean honor that a person receives out of respect for his wisdom, sterling character, and good-heartednesss toward others. But, as we know well, sometimes a person is shown honor for the completely opposite reason: He is a hooligan, a man who constantly browbeats others, and people show him honor to appease him and keep him from harming them. This honor is not out of respect, but out of fear. Now, in the case of a truly noble man, the more honor he receives, the more it shows how great he is. By contrast, in the case of the hooligan, the more honor he receives, the more it shows how contemptible he is. This is how it was with Nevuchadnetzar. He was a despicable tyrant who brought great suffering to his entire vast kingdom. He received great honor, but it brought him only disgrace, for it was honor out of fear.
The same idea is reflected in one of Shlomo HaMelech’s teachings (Mishlei 3:35): “The wise will inherit honor, while fools collect disgrace.” The wise, on account of their nobility of character, are truly worthy of honor – for them, honor is like an inheritance, that they receive by right. Moreover, as reflected in the future tense phrasing “will inherit,” they constantly receive more and more honor, as their noble character is further and further publicized. But when people honor a lowly fool, the honor turns into disgrace.
The men of Cheis told Avraham: “You are a king over us, so you can take for yourself the best of our burial sites, for the entire land is yours.” But they took care not to create the impression that they viewed him as a hooligan who came to take land from them by force. They described him as a “prince of God” – a saintly man who was truly worthy of honor.
David Zucker, Site Administrator

Parashas Vayeira

The end of this week’s parashah relates the episode where Hashem asked Avraham to bring his son Yitzchak before Him as an offering. Avraham bound Yitzchak to the altar, took hold of a knife to slaughter him, and then was stopped by an angel at the last moment. The angel, speaking for Hashem, said (Bereishis 22:12): “Do not stretch forth your hand toward the lad, and do not do anything to him. For now I know that you are God-fearing, since you have not withheld your son, you only one, from Me.” Later, the angel called to Avraham a second time, saying (Bereishis 22:16-18):
“By Myself I swear,” says Hashem, “that, because you performed this deed, and did not withhold your son, your only one, I shall surely bless you, and make your offspring abundant like the stars of the heavens, and like the sand on the seashore, and your offspring shall inherit the gate of their enemies. And through your offspring all the nations of the world will be blessed,, because you heeded My voice.”
The Maggid asks two questions about this second statement. First, why is the phrase “from Me,” which appears in the angel’s first statement, absent from this second one? Second, what precisely was the angel’s intent in recounting Avraham’s act again?
The Maggid answers these questions as follows. Yitzchak was dear to Hashem; He did not want him to be lost to the world. At the same time, He wanted Avraham to pass the awesome test of bringing his only son as an offering. He was therefore compelled to allow Yitzchak to be taken to be slaughtered. In the end, though, Hashem had the great satisfaction of seeing both wishes fulfilled: Avraham passed the test, and Yitzchak remained alive.
How did this result come about? The answer lies in the Gemara’s teaching in Kiddushin 40a that if a person thought about doing a mitzvah, but was prevented from doing so by some outside interference, it is considered as if he did the mitzvah. The Maggid explains that this rule applies only under certain conditions. It does not apply to a mere passing thought of doing a mitzvah, nor to someone who grudgingly undertook a mitzvah. Rather, it applies only to a person who has firmly made up his mindto do a certain mitzvah, has taken steps toward doing it, and yearns with all his heart to carry it out, but is prevented from completing the mitzvah by some circumstance beyond his control.
Thus, had Avraham taken a grudging attitude as he set out to fulfill the Hashem’s directive to bring Yitzchak as an offering, the only way he could have gotten credit for passing the test would be if he carried out the actual slaughter, and then Yitzchak would have been lost to the world. In fact, however, Avraham took up the charge with great zest and alacrity, yearning to give Hashem satisfaction by doing what He had asked. He rose at daybreak to start early. After preparing the knife, the fire, and the wood, he jubilantly set out on his journey; his attitude was like that of a father escorting his son to the wedding canopy. He proceeded on his way with eager anticipation. Upon reaching Mount Moriah, he diligently arranged the wood and the fire, and bound his beloved son on the altar. With supreme joy, he took hold of the knife to perform the slaughter. He had shown the firmest possible commitment to carrying out Hashem’s word. Through this show of commitment, he passed the test – the actual slaughter was unnecessary.
Hashem therefore called out to him: “Enough! Do not stretch forth your hand toward the lad! I am satisfied with what you have done. Now I know that you are God-fearing. Your wholeheartedness has been manifested with supreme clarity; you have passed the test. It is not necessary anymore for you to actually carry through with the slaughter. There is no reason to take your gentle only son away from the world. Let him live, and continue to serve Me.” As the Midrash relates, He told him (Bereishis Rabbah 56:8): “You fulfilled My word and put him up, now take him down.” The actions Avraham had already performed, coupled with the devotion and purity of heart with which he performed them, constituted a complete fulfillment of Hashem’s word, and hence Hashem told Avraham to take Yitzchak down from the altar.
The intent of the angel’s second statement is to bring out more fully what Avraham had accomplished. Hashem tells Avraham: “Because you performed this act, and did not withhold your son, your only one, I shall surely bless you (bareich avarechechah).” Hashem omits the phrase “from Me” because here He is not speaking of Avraham’s not having withheld Yitzchak from Him, but rather of Avraham’s not having withheld Yitzchak from the world. Through his great devotion, Avraham passed the test perfectly while obviating the need for Yitzchak to be killed. On account of this double achievement, Hashem promised Avraham a double reward, as reflected in the double verb bareich avarechechah.
David Zucker, Site Administrator

Parashas Lech-Lecha

This week’s parashah begins the Torah’s account of Avraham Avinu’s career as a servant of Hashem. At the “Covenant Between the Parts,” related in Bereishis Chapter 15, Hashem promises Avraham that his descendants would become a great nation and would inherit the Land of Israel. After reporting some further interchange between Hashem and Avraham, the Torah relates (Bereishis 15:12): “A deep sleep came over Avram, and the terror of a great darkness descended upon him.” The Maggid points out that this is puzzling, for sleep and terror usually do not go hand in hand. The Midrash in Bereishis Rabbah 44:17 explains that Avraham saw during this sleep a vision of what would come upon his descendants over the course of history, and this vision struck him with terror. The Maggid offers a similar explanation, but taking a different direction from the one the Midrash takes.
During the initial stages of Jewish history, the people had prophets living among them, who would rebuke them for their sins. In times of trouble, the prophets would lead the people to repent, and Hashem would grant them relief. But now we no longer have prophets to tell us where we stand and prompt us to repent, and so we go about our lives in a mental fog, as the psalmist Asaf describes (Tehillim 74:9): “For we have not seen the signs of our destiny; there is no longer any prophet, and there is none in our midst who knows what lies in the end.” It is as if we are in a deep sleep. The suffering of exile presses upon us, yet we are not stirred to repent.
It is this spiritual slumber that is presaged in Avraham’s deep sleep. He was standing in Hashem’s Presence and listening to Hashem speak to him, and, then, while Hashem was still speaking, he fell asleep. Avraham was then struck with terror – over the very fact that he fell asleep while Hashem was speaking to him. He realized that this sleep was a sign of what would come upon his descendants, in line with the rule that the experiences of the forefathers are a omen for the descendants (maaseh avos siman la-banim). And He saw clearly what the sign meant: that while Hashem was calling out to us, we would fall asleep – and, as Hashem continued calling, we would continue sleeping.
The Midrash in Bereishis Rabbah 44:17 remarks that slumber brings degneration, for when a person is slumbering, he neither learns Torah nor does any useful work. The Midrash notes also that Rav listed three types of slumber: ordinary sleep, prophetic trance, and a comatose-like sleep. The Midrash describes this latter form of slumber in terms of the following verse (Shmuel Alef 26:12): “And no one saw, and no one knew, and no one awakened, for a deep sleep from Hashem had fallen upon them.” The Midrash then goes on to mention a fourth type of sleep – the sleep of insanity, which is linked to another passage (Yeshayah 29:9-10): “They were utterly blinded. They were drunk, but not from wine; they staggered, but not from liquor. For Hashem cast upon them a spirit of deep sleep, and He closed your eyes.”
Hashem, as Shlomo HaMelech teaches, is knocking at our door, crying out (Shir HaShirim 5:2): “Open up for Me!” But we pay no attention. We are so sunken in our slumber – a slumber that resembles a comatose-like sleep or a drunken stupor – that we are oblivious to Hashem’s call. Avraham prophetically beheld this state of affairs, and the sight of it struck him with utter terror.
David Zucker, Site Administrator

Parashas Noach

This week’s parashah describes the great flood through which Hashem destroyed the entire world except for the righteous Noach and his family, and some animals He told Noach to take with him. Near the end of the parashah, after the account of the flood, the Torah recounts that Noach planted a grapevine, got drunk from the wine he made from its grapes, and disgraced himself. The Torah begins its account of this episode as follows: “And Noach, the man of the land, started off (vayachel), and he planted a grapevine.” The Midrash, making a play on the word vayachel, remarks (Bereishis Rabbah 36:3):
Noach was profaned (nischallel), and turned mundane (chullin). How? By planting a grapevine. He did not think to plant something else, something constructive – not a fig sapling and not an olive sapling – but rather a grapevine. … On the very day he planted it, he drank and he disgraced himself.
The Maggid explains the above Midrash as criticizing Noach for ruining a golden opportunity. The Maggid links this Midrash to a Midrash about the blessing that Hashem bestowed on the seventh day (Bereishis 2:3). The Sages teach (Bereishis Rabbah 11:1, expounding on Mishlei 10:22, which I render in line with the Maggid’s interpretation):
Hashem’s blessing is what brings riches – this refers to the Sabbath day. Let it not bring along with it an increase of grief – that is, mourning.
The Maggid explains this Midrash with a parable – one his most famous ones. A man went on a trip, and on the way he met a saintly sage whom he knew had the power to give people blessings. He asked the sage to bless him. The sage replied: “May it be Hashem’s will that, when you return home, the first thing you do will develop into a thriving success.” The man decided that when he got home, he would immediately take out his money pouch and start counting and weighing his money, so that the sage’s blessing would take effect on the money and make him rich. And so, the very second he got home, he called to his wife: “Quick! Bring me the money pouch!” The man’s wife, who had no idea why he made this abrupt request, concluded that he had been stricken with a fit of insanity and refused to give him the pouch. He proceeded to yell at her, and she, in turn, proceeded to curse him. The quarrel escalated further and further, ultimately developing into a great “success” – for it was the first activity the man engaged in when he got home, and it was thus on this squabbling that the sage’s blessing took effect.
Shabbos is like the sage in the above parable – as the Zohar teaches, Hashem established Shabbos as the fount of blessing. This special power is what the Torah is referring to when it says that Hashem bestowed blessing on the seventh day. The Zohar elaborates, teaching that all blessing within the universe depends on Shabbos, both in heaven and on earth. It is the blessing which flows from Shabbos that brings forth all the good we receive during the week.
Every activity a person engages in on Shabbos is infused with a special blessing, and this blessing causes the activity to thrive during the upcoming week. Thus, Shabbos is called the “treasure of days” – all the other days of the week, so to speak, treasure and yearn for Shabbos, for it is from Shabbos that they receive their blessing. It therefore behooves every Jew, in a God-fearing spirit, to spend every moment of his Shabbos wisely. He should engage in spiritual pursuits, so that, in the upcoming week, he will achieve success in these pursuits. And he should honor Shabbos properly with fine food and drink, so that the upcoming week will bear for him a goodly measure of material sustenance. Moreover, in all our Shabbos activities, we must take extreme care to keep what we are doing completely free of anything that produces grief, for the generative power of Shabbos will boost this grief and cause it to thrive throughout the upcoming week.
With this, the Maggid turns to the Midrash about Noach’s grapevine, and explains the strong criticism leveled against Noach. After the flood, Hashem brought into the world a wondrous flow of blessing, so that the world could be fully re-established and restored to its former state. Thus, the world was poised in such a way that the first activity that Noach engaged in would be invested with an extraordinary power of growth. Noach should have taken advantage of this awesome opportunity by engaging in an activity that would contribute as constructively as possible to the restoration of the world. But, instead, he planted a grapevine, and it was on this inferior planting that the extraordinary power of growth took effect. On the very day Noach planted it, the grapevine matured and produced grapes, and Noach turned these grapes into wine, drank, and disgraced himself. It was a classic case of profanation – taking potential for lofty achievement, and wasting it on the pursuit of the mundane.

Parashas Bereishis

In parashas Bereishis, the Torah relates (Bereishis 2:19-20):
Now, Hashem, God, had formed from the ground all the beasts of the field and all the birds of the sky, and He brought them to the man, to see what he would call each one – and whatever the man was going to call each living creature, that is its name. And the man gave names to all the domesticated animals, to the birds of the sky, and to all the wild animals of the field.
The order of presentation here is odd. The Torah first says that whatever the man was going to call each living creature, that is its name,” and then relates that Adam gave names to all the creatures. It would have been more natural for the Torah first to relate that Adam gave names to all the creatures, and then to say “whatever the man called each one, that is its name.” Why does the Torah present the facts in reverse?
The Maggid explains as follows. The animal kingdom encompasses a wide variety of traits, both good and bad. Hashem, in His wisdom, systematically apportioned these traits among the various animal species. Since animals have no free will, each one acts wholly in accordance with its own innate traits; no animal ever adopts the behavior pattern of a different animal. Thus, as our Sages teach, the cat specializes in modesty, the ant in aversion to theft, and the dove in loyalty to its mate. Man, on the other hand, possesses the entire gamut of powers and traits. Hashem granted man the free will to choose which to exercise in each situation, and man is ultimately judged according to his choices.
Now, our also Sages teach that each animal’s most prominent trait is reflected in its name. They tell us, for example, that the stork is named chasidah because a stork shows kindness (chesed) to other storks by sharing its food with them. Similarly, they say, the heron is named anafah because a heron quarrels (m’anefes) with other herons. Since man encompasses all the traits of the all the animals, he is familiar with all these traits and understands how each should be named. We can now see why the Torah says that “whatever the man was going to call each living creature, that is its name” – whatever name Adam would put forward was sure to be the right one.
The Midrash teaches (Bereishis Rabbah 17:4):
When the Holy One Blessed Be He came to create man, He consulted with the angels, saying: “Let us make man.” They replied: “This man, what is his nature?” Hashem told them: “His wisdom is greater than yours.” He brought before them the domesticated animals, the wild animals, and the birds, and asked: “What is the name of each of these?” And they did not know. He then brought these creatures before Adam and asked: “What is the name of each of these?” Adam replied: “That one is an ox, that one is a donkey, that one is a horse, that one is a camel ….”
At first glance it seems puzzling that Adam knew the names while the angels did not. But, given the idea we just explained, we can see why this was so. Indeed, same differentiation that prevails in the animal kingdom also prevails in the celestial realm. Each angel has a specific role: Some specialize in dispensing compassion, others in dispensing retribution, and so on. Hashem apportioned powers and traits among the angels according to these roles. Each angel possesses its own distinct set of powers and traits, different from that of any other angel. Thus, our Sages teach that an angel can carry out only one mission –for it only has the tools for one role. Accordingly, none of the angels could name the animals, for each angel was familiar only with its own specific traits, and had no grasp of any others. Only Adam, who possessed all the traits, knew how to give each animal its proper name.
David Zucker, Site Administrator

Megillas Koheles

On Shabbos Chol HaMoed Sukkos, we read Megillas Koheles, Shlomo HaMelech’s guide to a proper outlook on life. In Koheles 1:18 he writes: “For with great wisdom comes great torment, and one who increases his knowledge increases his grief.” This statement indicates that a wise person suffers more than a fool does over certain mishaps of life, particularly over misdeeds. The Maggid explains Shlomo’s statement as reflecting the fact that Hashem holds a wise person to a high standard, as the Gemara in Bava Kamma 50a teaches. It is written (Tehillim 50:3): “His [Hashem’s] environs are very stormy (nisarah meod).” The Gemara derives from this verse the principle that Hashem is exacting with the righteous to a hairsbreadth (k’chut hasaarah). In Sefer HaMiddos, Shaar HaYirah, chapter 12, the Maggid elaborates on this principle.
The Maggid begins by presenting a classic illustration of the principle: the death penalty that Hashem meted out to Nadav and Avihu for offering in the Mishkan (Tabernacle) a “foreign fire” that Hashem had not commanded. Their father Aharon was astonished at the swift and severe punishment they received for this misstep. Moshe explained to him (Vayikra 10:3): “It was of this that Hashem spoke, saying, ‘Through My close ones I shall be sanctified, and I shall be honored before the entire people.’” Hashem expects a commoner to guard His honor by not rebelling against His commands. He expects more, however, of His close ones; He invests them with the duty to sanctify Him by acting with the utmost scrupulousness. Nadav and Avihu’s great loftiness made them liable to the strictest punishment.
The Maggid then expands on discuss why Hashem is so exacting with the righteous. He presents three reasons for this mode of operation.
First, a person who is endowed with wisdom and has drawn close to Hashem is expected to have a solid grasp of the rules of proper conduct. As the Midrash puts it (Tanchuma, Vayikra 6), a king gets much angrier when a member of the palace household commits an infraction than when a visitor from the city commits the same infraction, for the palace household member should know better. Since a member of the palace household constantly beholds the glory of the king within the palace, he is expected to know how to act, whereas such knowledge is not expected of a visitor. The same idea applies to the way Hashem relates to a righteous person, who dwells in His environs.
Second, a small flaw in a righteous person causes much more damage to the Jewish People as a whole than a similar small flaw in an average person. The Maggid draws an analogy to the human body. The body comprises a variety of organs, including some of minor importance and some of major importance. Some organs can be injured or even lost without significant effect on a person’s functioning. But other organs, such as the eyes, are so central that an injury to them causes a grave impairment. Similarly, the Jewish People comprises a variety of people, including commoners and great saints. If a commoner sins, the sin does not cause such a great desecration of Hashem’s Name, and thus does not cause significant damage to the Jewish People as a whole. But if a great saint sins, major damage to the entire Jewish People results, for the people all regard the great saint as setting an example of how to act. If a great saint commits a misdeed, the rest of the people will copy it, and a major desecration to Hashem’s Name ensues. Thus, in Yoma 86a, R. Yochanan says it would be a desecration to Hashem’s Name for him to walk four cubits without speaking words of Torah and wearing tefillin, while Rav says it would be a desecration of Hashem’s Name for him to buy meat from the butcher and not pay immediately. The Mishnah in Avos 4:13 states that an inadvertent misinterpretation of Torah law is considered like a deliberate sin. In a similar vein, we can say that an inadvertent sin committed by a righteous person is as severe as a deliberate sin, for when a righteous person inadvertently does an improper deed, he gives others the impression that it is alright to engage in such behavior, and thus leads them to do so deliberately.
Third, a small flaw in a righteous person damages the person himself much more than a similar small flaw in an average person. On a physical level, a tough person suffers significant harm only when he is dealt a heavy blow, but a delicate person suffers serious harm even from a minor blow. Similarly, on a spiritual level, a coarse person’s soul suffers significant damage only when he commits a major sin, but a lofty person’s soul suffers serious damage even from a minor sin. As another analogy, consider bright white garments as compared with garments of a duller color. A few black spots would hardly be noticed on a duller garment, but seriously damage the appearance of a bright white garment. Thus, a person wearing a bright white garment must be much more careful to avoid stains than a person wearing a duller garment. In the same way, a righteous person must be very careful to avoid a even minor sin.
An additional perspective on Hashem’s exacting treatment of the righteous is reflected in another verse in Koheles (verse 7:3): “Anger is better than geniality.” The Gemara comments (Shabbos 30b): “The anger that the Holy One Blessed Be He shows the righteous in this world is better than the geniality that the Holy One Blessed Be He shows the wicked in this world.” The Maggid, in his commentary on Shir HaShirim 1:5, explains this teaching as follows. If Hashem shows a person favor for avoiding gross indecencies, it is because He regards him as a lowly person for whom avoiding such indecencies is a major achievement. And if He subjects a person to an outpour of wrath for a slight infraction, it is because He regards him as a righteous person who is capable of spiritual greatness.
David Zucker, Site Administrator

Yom Kippur

The Gemara in Berachos 37b says: “In the place where the repentant stand, the completely righteous cannot stand.” In Sefer HaMiddos, Shaar Ha-Ahavah, chapter 13, the Maggid expounds on this teaching. He links it to a charge from Yeshayah (verse 31:6): “Turn back regarding the way you have deeply strayed, O Children of Israel.” The Hebrew word that I have rendered cautiously as “regarding the way” is la’asher, and the Maggid notes that it is an odd choice. We would have expected to see the word mei’asher, meaning “from the way,” but instead we find the world la’asher, literally meaning “to the way.” Rashi renders la’asher as “to the one from whom,” and reads it as referring to Hashem. The Maggid, however, takes a completely different approach. It almost seems, he says, that Yeshayah is suggesting that a person should turn back, far be it, to his sinful ways. In resolving this apparent conundrum, the Maggid brings out a profound message.
He develops the point with an analogy. A rich nobleman had a faithful servant who served him conscientiously for several years. In the same city, one of the wealthiest and most prominent merchants lost his business and all his assets, and subsequently put himself up for hire as a servant. The nobleman, upon hearing about the matter, hired this former merchant, and even paid him double what he paid his other servant. He explained his decision as follows: “My other servant is a loyal worker, and he desires with his whole heart to fulfill his duties properly. Still, there is a big difference between the work of a servant, even one who carries out his duties perfectly, and that of a man who works for himself. A servant, who is obligated to work for his master, finds his work a heavy undertaking and does not exert himself to do more than is expected of him. A man who works for himself, on the other hand, plunges into his work with relish; his desire for gain spurs him on, and he exerts himself to extremes, skimping on food and sleep to press on toward his goal. A man who has worked his entire life as a servant has no concept of this type of exertion. But a man who has worked for himself knows it well, and, if he later takes a position as a servant, he understands what he has to do to truly fulfill his master’s wishes. Moreover, a servant who has always worked for someone else simply does what he is told, without any strategizing, but a servant who once worked for himself knows what it means to mull over turn a situation day and night to develop a strategy that will yield maximum gain, and he puts this experience to use for his master’s benefit.
Similarly, someone who has served Hashem all his life, although his soul is pure and his intent is sincere, has no concept of the effort exerted by a wicked man who seeks to gratify his own desires. The wicked man who is wedded to pleasure or honor is in constant turmoil in his quest for further gratification. As is written in the Yom Kippur haftarah (Yeshayah 57:20-21): “The wicked are like the raging sea that cannot rest, and whose waters churn up mire and mud. ‘There is no peace, said my God, ‘for the wicked.’” And so, when a wicked man reverses course and decides from now on to serve Hashem with all his heart, he puts forth a wondrous effort. For he understands how far he must go; he realizes that he has not fulfilled his obligation to Hashem until he serves Him with the same zeal with which he previously served his selfish wishes. If he is told he must learn Torah a whole night long, he recalls the many nights he spent awake engaged in card games and other frivolous pursuits, without proper meals and sleep, and he sets himself to the task. This level of devotion is what Yeshayah is calling for in the charge we quoted at the outset: “Turn back to serve Hashem with the same depth with which you previously strayed.” If a wayward man heeds this charge, he can reach spiritual heights that a person who has served Hashem his whole life cannot imagine. This is what the Gemara means when it says that “in the place where the repentant stand, the completely righteous cannot stand.”
Yet, even someone who has served Hashem his whole life can gain a sense of the repentant man’s zeal – by looking out into the world and observing the extremes people go to for the sake of worldly gains. As the Rambam says (in his introduction to Mishnayos Zeraim), the physical world is kept running by the efforts of crazy people. If we take note of the tremendous exertion and zeal of these crazy people – how they literally put their entire guts into their work – we all can see how far we must go in serving Hashem. Let us all strive to serve Hashem with full devotion, each to the very best of his ability. If we do, we will be worthy of being called “people who love Hashem.”
David Zucker, Site Administrator

The Days of Repentance

It is written (Yeshayah 32:9-10): “O complacent women, arise and hear my voice! O self-assured daughters, pay heed to what I say. Days upon years will the secure women tremble.” In Ohel Yaakov, parashas Nitzavim, the Maggid interprets this passage homiletically as conveying a message about the rigors of the days of repentance.
The Maggid speaks of three methods by which we can be purged of our sins. The first method is by going through Gehinnom after death. This method is unfathomably harsh. The second method is by being punished by a Beis Din. The third method is by a purging process that the sinner effectuates himself, by bitterly lamenting his evil deeds and taking steps on his own to atone for them through fasting and similar afflictions, prayer, charity, and Torah study. When a person acts on his own to avenge the affront to Hashem’s honor that his sins caused, Hashem is pleased. As the Gemara in Berachos 7a says: “One self-reproach in a person’s heart is better than many lashes.” The days of repentance are thus very precious, for they have the special power to purge a person of all types of sins, for which he would otherwise have to suffer harsh punishment in Gehinnom. By observing these days, a person can rectify his sins quickly and much more easily. We should be filled with joy to have this opportunity. Indeed, the faithful and strong-hearted, who serve Hashem with love and accept affliction gladly, rejoice over these days as if they had found a great treasure – they immerse themselves in the prayers and forget about their skipped meals and lost sleep. Many people, however, take the opposite attitude, viewing the days of repentance as a burden. Going to shul for selichos seems a chore; the long services on Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur seem tiresome. The Maggid interprets the verse we quoted at the outset as advice to those who take this attitude – to those who yearn to sit in complacent comfort and who balk at any strain.
He brings out the idea with a parable. In a certain city, there lived a great genius who constantly came out with new inventions, the likes of which no one had ever seen. He made a living selling these inventions, and he did well, for people were eager to grab his marvelous wares. But one man never bought any of his inventions; while he was rich enough to afford them easily, he was very miserly, and regarded the inventions a waste of money. After a time, the inventor came out with something especially wondrous: a small cake made of ingredients so filling that a single serving would meet a person’s food needs or ten days or more. He went to the marketplace with a basket of these cakes to offer for sale. The miser passed by, and the inventor called out to him and said: “Come, my friend, buy some of these cakes.” The miser replied: “You know I’m not interested in frittering away my money on your foolish inventions.” The inventor responded: “On the contrary, this product is meant for people like you. Someone who spends freely feels no need to economize by buying a food like this; he’ll figure that if he feels hungry tomorrow morning, he’ll buy some fresh bread. But with you, your great tightfistedness demands that you buy my new super-filling cakes.”
Similarly, with people who crave ease and are loath to submit to any strain, this very aversion demands that they submit to the rigors of the days of repentance. They should cherish these days dearly and embrace them eagerly, for through the strain they undergo during these few days, they can gain peace and comfort for the entire rest of the year (and avoid much greater suffering that they would otherwise have to endure, including a possibly lengthy period of suffering in Gehinnom after death). As our opening verse states: “Days upon years will the secure women tremble.” The period from the end of Elul to Yom Kippur has a special power through which a few days of trembling can meet our quota of trembling for an entire year. Let us take advantage of this opportunity.
K’sivah V’Chasimah Tovah!
David Zucker, Site Administrator

Parashas Nitzavim – Vayeilech

In this week’s parashah, Hashem tells us that if we repent and return to Him, He will bless us. The Maggid expounds at length on this theme. For presentation here, I have selected from his discussion two related ideas.
The ten days of repentance include two special haftaros of repentance: the haftarah read on the afternoon of Tzom Gedaliah (as well as on other fast days) and the haftarah of Shabbos Shuvah. The first of these, from sefer Yeshayah, opens as follows (Yeshayah 55:6-7):
Seek Hashem when He can be found; call upon Him when He is near. Let the wicked man abandon his way and the crooked man his thoughts. Let him return to Hashem and He will show him mercy – to our God, for He is abundantly forgiving.
Elsewhere, Yeshayah declares in Hashem’s Name (Yeshayah 50:2): “Why is it that I have come and there is no one present? That I have called out and there is no one who answers? Is My hand too limited to bring redemption? Do I lack the power to save? Behold, through My admonishment I dry the sea; I make the rivers into a desert.” Thus, Hashem laments that He is ready to extend aid, but no one comes to ask Him for it. On the other hand, we often feel that when we pray to Hashem, He does not answer. As Dovid HaMelech puts it (Tehillim 22:3): “O My God! I call out by day, but You do not answer – and by night, but there is no respite for me.” How can we explain this apparent paradox?
The Maggid offers an answer based on the following passage (Yirmiyah 15:5-6): “For who will show pity on you, O Yerushalayim? … You abandoned Me, says Hashem – you have gone behind.” He explains this passage as follows. When a person wants to make a request of another person, the first thing he must do is present himself before the other person. If he places himself behind the other person, turns his back to him, and starts speaking into empty space, he obviously cannot expect the other person to answer, even if he goes on speaking day and night. Similarly, if we want Hashem to answer us, we must direct ourselves toward Him. But, instead, we often detach ourselves from Him and go our own way – we cast Hashem behind our backs (Melachim Aleph 14:9). Even when we recite our prayers, our minds are on our own agenda. The first step in prayer is, in Amos’s words (Amos 4:13): “Prepare to meet your God, O Yisrael.” Hashem is nearby, waiting for us to approach Him. If we truly direct ourselves toward Him, He is ready to fulfill our requests. If we return to Him, He is ready to bless us.
The Maggid presents a similar idea regarding the atonement process of Yom Kippur. Hashem gave us Yom Kippur as a means for purifying our souls from the corroding effects of sin. Yet we find that we go through Yom Kippur year after year, and remain corroded. Why? The Midrash speaks of this phenomenon, saying (Eichah Rabbah Pesichasa 11):
Had you merited, you would have encountered the verse (Vayikra 15:30): “For on this day He shall atone for you to purify you.” Now that you have not merited, you encounter the verse (Eichah 1:9): “Her filth was on her hems. She did not pay regard to her end.”
The Maggid explains this Midrash as follows. A doctor may have effective medicine for a patient’s illness, but if the patient continues eating unhealthy foods and engaging in other unhealthy habits, the medicine will not work. Similarly, in order for the spiritual cure of Yom Kippur to take effect, we must first prepare by shaking off bad behavior patterns. If we do not do so – if we do not pay regard to the sorry shape we were in when the past year came to its end – then Yom Kippur will not help, and the filth will remain. But if we prepare properly, Yom Kippur will do its work, and we will be purified.
Taking the Maggid’s discussion a step further, I will suggest an added link between the above two ideas. The verse about Yom Kippur that the Midrash quotes concludes by saying: “Before Hashem, you shall be purified.” We can read the verse as saying that if we shake off our negative thought and behavior patterns, let go of the agendas we have set for ourselves, and place ourselves before Hashem – directing ourselves toward Him – then we will be purified.
David Zucker, Site Administrator