Vayigash – 5775

Written for Shabbat Parshat Vayigash, ה בטבת תשע”ה:

In this week’s Parsha, after Yosef’s plans have come together and his brothers are trapped, Yehudah steps up to do what is right. He gives a heart-rending speech about how important Binyamin is to his father, which causes Yosef to lose his composure and break out in tears, revealing himself finally to his brothers. This brings the saga of the brothers to a happy ending at last.

However, one question I was wondering was this: what was it about Yehudah’s speech that caused Yosef to give in? Or more importantly, why did Yehudah think that he would be successful in his plea? His speech contained almost no new information whatsoever, apart from the fact that Yehudah had taken responsibility for Binyamin’s safety. Otherwise, the family situation had already been stated, and the import that their father placed on Binyamin’s survival, as well as their previous conversations, obviously. What was added?

It would seem to me that the only element really added in this speech was the emotion. Up until now, the brothers had merely been stating facts of the situation, whereas now Yehudah was pleading and speaking from the heart. Again, though, we come to the same question: why should that make a difference? From his perspective, the man seated before him is a cruel and cunning Mitzri leader. From the moment they arrived the first time, he spoke to them harshly and treated them with distrust and disdain. He imprisoned them, threatened them, and ordered them around; at what point in all this did Yehudah think he was in any way kind or caring, that he would be moved by his plea?

I would guess that the answer is simple: there is a basic level of human compassion in everyone, and it was to this side of Yosef that Yehudah was pleading. He knew that deep down, everyone has that element of mercy, and he was trying to reach it with his heart-breaking story, delivered with intensity and emotion. While this answer seems fitting, it leads me to yet another question: why would everyone have this element of compassion within them? Obviously it is God-given, but the question is why?

Far be it from me to understand God’s intentions, but there is one thing I know for certain: humans are social creatures. God intended for us to be part of a greater society, and to work together to further our goals. When we work together, humans can accomplish great and wonderful acts. However, some people, and it seems this destructive attitude is quite prevalent today, think that they are just fine on their own. Some people call themselves “independent”, and claim they have no need of others. This claim is a blatant lie, as these people wear clothes that they did not produce, eat food which they did not grow or process, live in houses which they did not build, use products that they did not create, and benefit from services which they cannot provide. Unless one becomes a hermit living out in the middle of nowhere and literally uses nothing not created by their own hands, then they are benefiting from society, and they are not truly “independent”. There is more to say on the topic, but for the sake of brevity, I will leave off there.

Since we are social creatures, and are meant to work together, that means helping others when they are in need. As such, it is natural and logical for everyone to have a sense of mercy for the weak, and to have compassion over others. If we need others to survive, naturally we seek to help others survive as well. Yehudah must have known this fact, that everyone has compassion, and he sought to find the compassion even in one who seemed so cruel to him. By doing so, he not only saved Binyamin, but himself and all his brothers as well. May we learn from Yehudah’s example and seek out the good and compassion of others rather than focus on the bitter side, for we are all compassionate. Shabbat Shalom.

Chukat – 5774

Written for Shabbat Rosh Chodesh Tammuz, Parshat Chukat, ל בסיון תשע”ד:

For the Z’chut of our three missing brothers, Gilad Shaar, Naftali Frenkel, and Eyal Yifrach. May Hashem have mercy on them and return them to us swiftly, and let no harm come to them as they come home to their families.

This week’s Parsha covers a range of topics, starting with the famous commandment of the Parah Adumah, then the 39-year gap which brings us to the passing of Miriam, followed by the events leading up to the eventual conquest of Eretz Yisrael. However, there is one small section in the parsha, very vague and spanning only three verses, which struck a painful cord as I read it, due to recent events.

“The C’naanite king of Arad, who dwelled in the south, heard… and he warred against Yisrael and took a captive from it” (21:1). Already from before we even entered the Land, our enemies already sought to dishearten us by taking captives from us. This relatively simple verse, however, says a lot more than meets the eye. For starters, Rashi explains to us that this “C’naanite” king is really the king of Amalek, since Amalek is described as the nation that dwells in the south. So why was he called a C’naanite? In short, to confuse us when we prayed to Hashem for assistance, so he had his troops speaking the C’naanite language. There’s another critical point in this verse. Rashi also tells us that only a single individual was taken captive, and that individual was a non-Jewish handmaid. In addition, not a single individual was killed during this attack, as S’forno points out, since the verse only says that a captive was taken.

The next verse relates that we took a vow that if Hashem were to deliver this nation into our hands, that we would sanctify all their cities to Hashem. This verse is also filled with what to teach us. First off, all that was taken from us was a single servant, so why were we so adamant about striking back to the point where we made a vow? In general, we look down on making vows to the point where someone who takes a vow is often considered a sinner. The answer, perhaps, lies in what we vowed to do. We did not say, “Hashem, we want to take revenge!” or, “Hashem, we want to slaughter wholesale and pillage!” or even, “Hashem, we’re really angry, let us lash out in anger!” What we said was, “Hashem, let us consecrate these cities to you.” What was there to lose if we let this attack go without retaliation? The Jewish people, from the time of our inception as a nation, are the representatives of God in this world, and as such we must behave according to the way that Hashem expects of us. If we were to allow ourselves to be attacked by our enemies, and allow them to steal from us and to kidnap from us, it would show that we do not care about justice. Though Hashem created the world with Chessed, there are times when justice must be carried out, and when a human life is involved, all the more so. We see that our motives here were pure, for the sake of Hashem only, because what we vowed was only to sanctify the cities to Hashem, thus showing what we were focused on.

The third and final verse of this accounting tells of how Hashem heard our vow and delivered the nation into our hands, and that we consecrated the cities like we promised (though technically that didn’t happen until the times of Yehoshuah, as Ramban explains at length). Here the verse makes clear another crucial point that is made time and again, but always bears repeating, and that is: our success did not come from our militaristic might, nor our expert strategies, and certainly not from superior numbers, only from Hashem. When Hashem heard us, He delivered them into our hands, but had He not accepted our words, we would have been completely helpless against them.

Finally, among all three of these verses, there is one more point even more significant then the rest, and one that can be easily missed if not reading in Hebrew. Throughout all three verses, Bnei Yisrael are referred to in the singular. During this entire incident, Bnei Yisrael were joined as one, to the point where they are not even referred to as individuals. We can see now the significance of the fact that it was Amalek that attacked us, since Chazal teach us that one of the reasons Amalek comes to bear on us is when we suffer from disunity. Here, they were hardly able to touch us, and they fell to us immediately afterward, since we were unified, and so they could not harm us. We were one entity, unified in the same goal, that of sanctifying Hashem’s name. Then, and only then, did Hashem listen to us, and deliver the nation into our hands. True unity, where all of us can say together, “We will sanctify them to Hashem!” is when Hashem will deliver us from our enemies, and when we will finally know peace. Shabbat Shalom.

Korach – 5774

Written for Shabbat Parshat Korach, כג בסיון תשע”ד:

For the Z’chut of our three missing brothers, Gilad Shaar, Naftali Frenkel, and Eyal Yifrach. May Hashem have mercy on them and return them to us swiftly, and let no harm come to them as they come home to their families.

In this week’s Parsha, following the shameful rebellion of Korach and his followers, the Parsha tells us of some of the gifts received by both Kohanim and Leviyim. The gifts from Korbanot, as well as Trumot and Maasrot (tithes), are all listed in this Parsha. Before listing all this, however, Hashem starts out by listing their responsibilities, and begins this narrative with a frightening line (18:1), “You, your sons, and your father’s household with you shall bear the iniquity of the Sanctuary; and you and your sons with you shall bear the iniquity of your priesthood” (this is addressed to Aharon).

The following few verses deal more with the responsibilities of the Kohanim and Leviyim alike in the guarding of the Mishkan. Again, a dire warning is stated for the Kohanim, this time with regards to protecting the charge of the Leviyim and to keep them from touching the sacred vessels (such as the Aron and the Shulchan), and here repercussions are stated (18:3), “that they not die – they as well as you.”

There were a lot of Leviyim at this time, and the ratio of Kohanim to Leviyim was pretty significant. Over twenty thousand Leviyim compared to just three Kohanim (Aharon and his two surviving sons). How can just the three of them be expected to ensure that none of the twenty thousand plus Leviyim wouldn’t do something wrong? And how could they be blamed if one person misbehaved in a situation where it was impossible for them to know about it?

I can see at least two possible answers to this question. First off, the Kohanim were the spiritual leaders of the nation. Even when there were only three of them, they were meant to be the guiding stars for how we were supposed to act, and how we related to Hashem and the Mitzvot. Part of what they had to teach us was to show proper respect to Holy things, such as the Mishkan (or a shul, which is a place for prayer, not for talking or kids running around playing and snacking). If they were not able to bestow this lesson upon the Leviyim, with whom they had constant contact, then surely they lacked the ability to influence the masses as well, and so they have failed in their mission, at least to a certain extent. That being the case, why should they not be held liable for such a failing?

We could still ask the question, how could they be liable when there’s only three of them, and that surely is not enough to teach all the Leviyim before something happens? This brings us to the second answer, and that is: Kol Yisrael Areivim Zeh L’Zeh, all Jews are responsible one for another. In all cases, we are responsible for what happens to one another. Claims of, “Well I couldn’t do anything about it” are said hastily, but if we really look into what we’ve wasted our time on, we will see that there was more we could have done. Not only that, but the Jewish people all are connected; our nation together has a soul that encompasses each and every one of us. Just like if one limb in a person’s body is injured, the whole body is bothered, so, too, when one member of our nation errs and commits a sin, the entire nation is affected. We are all able to look out for one another in some way, and there is more that all of us can do to help one another. Sometimes, helping just means praying more for a person, or learning more Torah, or teaching Torah to someone, but there’s always something more that we can do.

When tragedy befalls our nation, it is due to our spiritual failings that Hashem has brought it upon us, so we must work to improve ourselves and help others around us. So when three of us are not safe at home, but are in the hands of our enemies, we must ask ourselves, “What more could I have done to uplift the nation that might have prevented this tragedy?” Together, as The Nation chosen by God, we can bring ourselves closer to Torah, closer to Hashem, and through this merit, we can bring our brothers home, and we will merit to see the Mashiach in our days. Shabbat Shalom.