Chayei Sarah? - Guest Post By Miles Bronstein

Parshat Chayei Sarah begins with the passing away of Sarah, followed by the arrangements for her burial and the burial itself. The first pasuk starts with “And Sarah lived” and then immediately goes on to state in the second pasuk “And Sarah died.” Isn’t it strange that the parsha is named “Chayei Sara - The Life of Sarah” - and yet the parsha opens with her death? One would think that the parsha would, like a eulogy, start from the beginning of her life and end with her death. Furthermore, why is the parsha called “Chayei Sarah” – “The Life of Sarah” and not “The Death of Sarah”? (The idea that the first word of a parsha is necessarily the most significant word and therefore becomes the title is wrong. In fact, Noach begins with “ אֵלֶּה תּוֹלְדֹת נֹחַ” and yet it is not named with those words. And there are many such examples.)

The Lubavitcher Rebbe explained that the name of a parsha is not chosen by chance, rather it is a one word description of the primary concepts and themes discussed in the parsha. Hence, “Chayei Sarah” is focused on one goal, which is that Yitzchak reach spiritual greatness. This was Sarah’s main dream, so it is only appropriate that the parsha named “Chayei Sarah” discuss the life of Yitchak, who was the “realization of Sarah’s spiritual vision.” By raising Yitchak in the manner Sarah did and by teaching him her principals Sarah lived on vicariously through Yitzchak, the apotheosis of Sarah’s life. When Sarah died she only died in a physical sense, for she remained extant through her son Yitzchak, making this parsha in truth, the life of Sarah.

VeZot HaBrachah - I've Been to the Mountain Top - Guest Post

By Rabbi Joshua Hoffman

Before Moshe dies, God tells him that although he will not be allowed to enter the Holy Land, he will be able to see the entire expanse of the land from the top of Mount Nebo. Moshe ascends the mountain and is shown the land from one end to the other. (Devarim: 34, 1-4). As Rabbi Zalman Soritzkin points out in his Aznayim LeTorah, it is not possible for a regular human being to see the entire expanse of the Holy Land with his unaided vision, and, therefore, there was undoubtedly a miracle involved here. Perhaps we can suggest that Moshe was able to see the entire land through the 'or haganuz,' the hidden light that remained from the six days of creation. Rashi, in his commentary to Bereishis (4:1) mentions the midrash that the God stored away the original light from the first day of creation because the wicked people of this world were not worthy of benefiting from it. This light functioned until day four of creation, when it was replaced by the sun, the moon and the other luminaries. God stored the original light away for the future, when the tzaddikim - the righteous people - will enjoy it. However, as Rav Kook points out, over the course of the the generations, there are certain tzaddikim who are able to see this hidden light in this world. Perhaps, then, God enabled Moshe to see the entire land from the mountain top through this hidden light. In this way, we can connect the end of the Torah, in parshas VeZos HaBeracha, with the beginning of the Torah, in parshas Bereishis.

Rashi, citing a midrash, says that Moshe was also shown the future history of the nation in the land, viewing the land in its tranquility, as well as the oppressors who would arise against it. Rabbi Jacob Rabinowitz, former dean of Jewish Studies at Yeshiva University, in his work Yemin Yaakov, asks, why did God show Moshe the bad parts of his nation's history at this point in time, just before his death, when it would certainly cause him anguish? Did God just want to make Moshe suffer at this point of his life?! Rabbi Rabinowitz offers three answers.First, he says that since God's trademark, or seal, is truth He could not give Moshe a false impression of the nation's history and make him think that everything would go smoothly. Secondly, when Moshe would see the more uncomfortable aspects of the nation's future, he would pray on their behalf. Finally, Rav Yisroel Salanter teaches that when God judges people, He takes into account the suffering that those around them experience due to the punishment of their loved ones, He mitigates the suffering of the one being judged because his acquaintances do not deserve to suffer so much. Thus, by showing Moshe the darker parts of the nation's future, the judgment of the nation would be lightened. I would like to suggest yet another explanation for God's showing Moshe the entire future of his nation, based on the Ramban's explanation of why God showed Moshe the land in the first place.

The Ramban says that the reason God showed Moshe the entire land is that Moshe loved the Jewish people, and wanted to see the reward that God had in store for them when they would settle the land of their forefathers. From this perspective, we can understand why God also showed Moshe the enter history of the nation, including both its good times and its bad times. When someone loves another, he wants to know everything about the person, both the good and the bad. Although the bad aspects may cause the one who loves some anguish, in a deeper sense they only serve to strengthen the love held for the other, and the bad times may serve to strengthen that love even more than the good times do. God, therefore, showed Moshe, the true lover of the Jewish people, all that would befall them in the future just as he was about to die, to endear them to him even more, so that he could take that love with him as God removed him from their midst.

Rabbi Shalom Rosner on Re'eh 5770, Adapted By Rabbi Neil Fleischmann: We Are All Individuals

"Behold, I set before you this day a blessing and a curse" (Devarim11:26) In the Hebrew there is a contradiction withing this verse. The Hebrew word for "behold" - the name of this portion - re'eh (literally, see) is directed to the individual, while the the Hebrew for "before you" - lifneichem is in plural, before the entire Jewish communal entity. The idea here - as teased out by the Kotzker Rebbe is that while the choices of blessings and curses are put before everyone, each unique individual perceives these realities in divergent ways. Nevertheless, everyone has the chance to make truly healthy choices.

Rabbi Bernard Weinberger in his sefer Shemen Hatov on 14:1 first addresses what he considers to be the simple meaning of the flow of these words: "You are the children of the L-rd your Go-d, you shall not cut yourselves, nor make any baldness between your eyes for the dead." Because you are children to G-d therefore you should not react by cutting yourselves when a dear one dies. A prince is exiled into the army and a time comes when he leaves the forces and goes on to be king, A soul is sent to learn things in this world and eventually returns to G-d. The soldiers, the relatives, need to not despair because the beloved is returning to where he belongs.

Yevamot 13b teaches that lo titgodedu, besides its literal meaning of not mutilating oneself also means "lo taasu gedudim"- don't break away from the community into clusters. The Shemen HaTov addresses how this ruling is derived from the verse although the literal context and the homiletical explanation seem unrelated. He suggests that nothing brings out individuality like the loss of a loved one. Everyone mourns in their own fashion, accentuating a different element of the loss of this life. The fact that everyone reacts differently to a loved one's death can lead to families breaking apart in the wake of that loss. It is specifically in light of death which can exacerbate divisiveness that we are implored to stick together.

This relates to Yirmiyahu's cry, "Habitu u're'u im yeish mach'ovkemach'ovi" (Eichah 1:12) - "Look and see if there is a pain like the pain I am experiencing." The Maggid of Dubno keys in on the wordmach'ovi.. He tells the tale of a palace built and burned to ashes. Some cry over the loss of the home they lived in, others over specific furniture or decorations. The owner is the only one who knows that he had hidden treasures in that house, so he cries harder and in a different way than anyone else. Yirmiyahu knew the deep meaning of the BeitHaMikdash, a meaning lost on the masses. He tells them that they can't get the tragedy in the way he does, their mourning and his mourning are quite different.

Devarim 5770

Some thoughts on the first pasuk.

The Ohr HaChayim HaKadosh's Take On The Question Cited Above.

On Words and Bees.

Matot-Masei 5770

Here are links to parsha essays from past years:

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1 - On a Rashi

2 - On Matot And A Time Of Transition

3 - 2 Short User Friendly Vorts

4 - An Old Joke Tied in To Masei

5 - A Haiku, A Thought, And Let Us Say Amen

6 - On Taking Advice.

Rabbi Yaakov Lehrfield On Chukat

Rabbi Yaakov Lehrfield of YISI said the following ideas in his shiur before Shacharis on Shabbos:

The way that we know that the dying stopped in the midbar is because when Miriam dies it says she died and was buried. Up till that point the protocol was being buried first and then dying (or not).

When the water was provided via the rock it says that it was water for the people and for the animals. We learn from here that a person should drink first and then give his animals to drink. We learn from the pasuk in Vehaya Im Shamoa that we should feed our animals before we ourselves eat. Rabbi Lehrfield suggested that since people usually eat on a more than regular basis they should feed their hungry animals first. But people often dehydrate and don't drink as much as they should and should therefore drink before giving their animals to drink.

Chazal say that we learn from the episode of the hitting of the rock that one who assists in doing an aveira is held responsible like the perpetrator of the aveira itself. The idea is that we learn this from Aharon. But how was Aharon to know that Moshe was going to hit the rock that he could have been expected to stop him? This may be why the Torah goes out of the way to say that Moshe hit the rock twice. The first time Aharon was taken by surprise, but perhaps the second time he could have/should have known it was coming.

The Baal HaTurim seems to say that the punishment fit the crime, regarding the hitting of the rock. Moshe did not sanctify G-d's name and therefore was not allowed in Israel, the land in which all existence is in essence a sanctification of G-d's name.

Tradition has it that when it mentions the Canaani in this portion they are located in the wrong place. Tradition has it that this was actually Amalek posing as the Cananites. They learned the language and pretended to be them. They had a choice - to dress like them or take their language. The question is, why not change both? The answer suggested is that if you change both your language and dress you change and become someone else. This is when people get serious about religion they change (or people influencing them have them change) two things, attire and way of speaking. This is why a major part of Shabbos is the altering of these two realms.

Chukat

Juxtaposition is key in the Torah. This rule applies quite clearly to the start of this week's portion, Chukat. The opening law of this parsha is that of the red heifer. It provides a mystery that even the wisest man ever - King Solomon- could not solve. It is famous paradox, contaminating the pure and purifying the contaminated. It is supra-rational and represents what Rabbi Abraham Twerski dubs ""the suspension of logic in deference to the Divine Will." It is no coincidence that this portion follows the story of Korach.

In a piece often quoted by his students, Rabbi Soloveichik says that Korach's mistake was thinking that his own logic could override the logic of G-d. The essence of a Torah life is the opposite principle, that G-d's judgment must override our own. This is why this portion follows the downfall of Korach, highlighting his mistake of thinking that he could challenge G-d's decisions. The opening line of the parsha is "This is the law of the Torah." It does not say, as we'd expect, "This is the law of the red heifer." The idea is that suspending our own judgment is the basic rule for observance of the entire Torah.

Rabbi Yitzchak Twerski points out that the first mistake of man, is the most commonly repeated mistake of mankind. Adam and Chava thought that they could override G-d's judgment with their own thinking. They suffered the consequence for their mistake. Hevel began to repair their error, submitting himself to G-d. However Kayin regressed and brought death and exile to the world, as his parents did, by challenging G-d's judgment. Many years later the story of Korach echoes that old tale of misplaced hubris. There are only two places in the Torah that the earth is described as opening up it's mouth and swallowing; this language is employed in regard to Kayin and in regard to Korach.

Adam and Chava thought that people had no more accountability than animals. This is why Chava reasoned that if the snake could have contact with the tree then so could she. This is why snakes and people had to be made more markedly different than one another. According to Rabbi Nissan Alpert the mistake (cheit really means mistake, not sin) of the golden calf was that people were saying that this cow was a symbol of the essence of man, that man is like an animal - eating to live and living to eat. The Rabbis teach that that the red heifer atones for the sin of the golden calf. The meaning of this may be that the red heifer comes to atone for the lowest level of impurity, a dead/soulless human being. Acceptance of this law is an admittance of the fact that humans are quite different than animals, given that animals have physical, utilitarian, value even in death.

Tradition has it that Moses was the only one granted the understanding of the ritual of the red heifer. RabbiLeibish Harif expalains that this is because Moshe was not involved in the cheit of the golden calf. Idolatry represents the opposite of what a Torah life is meant to be, rather than accepting our being created in G-d's image the idolater creates god in his image. A man can make a "god " out of wood and then remodel that same wood into furniture or charcoal. Idolatry is self will taking over subordination to the will of G-d. As Rav Chaim Schmuelewitz put it, "There is no such thing as doubts, there are only desires."

This portion, following on the heels of the Korach rebellion reminds us that his questioning of G-d was a form of idolatry. This is literally the oldest story in the book, going back to the first episode in human history.

An anecdote comes to mind: Two men made a deal that whoever died first would visit the other. One dies and appears to his friend in a dream The friend asks him what his day is like now. He replies, “I eat whenever I want, I sleep whenever I want, I fulfill every physical desire whenever I want.” The living man says, “I can’t believe it, you died and went to Heaven!” The other guy explains, “No, I was reincarnated; I’m a cow in Kansas.” We think sometimes that our greatest pleasure is fulfilling our physical urges. Our calling is much higher than that.

It would serve us well to keep our desires in check and to remember the unique essence of human beings. Our special stature comes along with responsibility that other living creatures do not have. It would serve us well to remember our uniqueness and to accept our covenant with G-d. May we be so blessed to rise up to being human in the highest sense of the word.

On Korach: For The Sake of Heaven - Special To The Jewish Week

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The Rabbis of the Mishnah say, “An argument which is for the sake of Heaven will have a positive outcome, and an argument which is not for the sake of Heaven will not have a positive outcome.” The paradigm presented of a sincere argument “is the dispute between Hillel and Shamai. And what was not for the sake of Heaven? The dispute of Korach and his men” [Avot 5:20].

The Rabbis fail to mention Moshe, Korach’s antagonist, as they had mentioned Hillel’s opponent, Shamai. Why do they write asymmetrically, as if Korach was disagreeing with his own group?

The most common answer is that a major indication of Korach’s insincerity was the infighting amongst his followers. Korach and his men each had their own motives and fought not only against Moshe but among themselves, as well. Another popular explanation is that since Hillel and Shamai were both genuine, it makes sense to list them each as members of a sincere dispute. However, in the case of Korach against Moshe, it was only Korach who was insincere. Moshe was not engaged in an artificial fight and therefore his name is not mentioned here.

Perhaps the reason why Moshe is not listed as the other side of Korach’s fight is because from Korach’s point of view Moshe’s perspective did not exist. When someone is engaged in a fight that they just want to win rather than wanting the truth, they close out the other side.

This applies in every phase and arena of life. Most people want their political party, sports team, religion, sub-group within religion, and sub-group within sub-group of religion to emerge victorious, period. As a teacher, my experience is that many of my students just want a higher grade, while a select others truly wish to understand why I saw fit to take off points. The truly spiritual and sincere person who wishes to fulfill God’s will, fights honestly for the truth. Within that fight for truth he acknowledges the possibility of his own error and grants truth even when it rests on the other side of the party line.

When I was 17 and studying in Israel, I was primed to meet with the rabbi of the shul in which I grew up. He had been sent by my parents to convince me to go back to America. I was ready to explain why I was planning to stay in Israel, even against my parents’ will. On my way to the rabbi, I told a friend, “I’m off to an argument and I hope I win.” My friend said that he was sure I would not win. I was incredulous. Yet, he made a strong point, saying, “If you have a discussion you can get somewhere, if you have an argument you never win.” This Mishnah explains that an argument can be won if it is a sincere discussion with ears attuned to the other side.

When Moshe responds to Korach, he makes curious use of the same words that Korach said to him [Numbers 16:3-7]: “Rav lachem — it is enough for you.” Moshe tried to show Korach, by repeating Korach’s own phrase, that there was another side to the story. Korach could not, would not, allow himself to hear his own words echoed back to him from a different vantage point. This is often the case if someone is not open; they are unwilling to allow the other side the same right that they have to an opinion.

The sincerity of Hillel and Shamai trickled down to their students. The Mishnah in Yevamot [13a] says that although their two schools disagreed about major elements of Jewish law, the communities of Hillel and of Shamai were friends with each other and did not hesitate to marry one another. The Gemorah says that the reason why we follow the view of Beit Hillel is because they would study the opinions of Beit Shamai even before they delved into their own viewpoints [Eruvin 13a].

In a related note, the Talmud is sometimes puzzled by a statement made by a rabbi that didn’t seem to fit with his just stated standpoint. The Talmud’s resolution of this apparent inconsistency is that sometimes, in his earnest search for truth, a rabbi would enter the thinking of his opponent and speak l’divreihem — from the point of view of the other side.

The lesson of Parshat Korach is that when we conflict with others we must do it solely for the sake of Heaven. This applies to ethical, political, and religious issues of global import. It would serve us well to wisely take note even when we differ with others over seemingly mundane matters. What is the litmus test by which we can gauge if we are voicing our opinion for the sake of Heaven? Whenever we disagree with others we should truthfully answer one simple question, “Do I hear the other side?”

Rabbi Neil Fleischmann is director of Torah guidance at The Frisch School as well as a writer and poet whose work can be found here.

Kedoshim: Love

Perhaps of all of the sayings in Kedoshim none is as well known as - "VeAhavta LeReacha Kamocha." The Ramban raises a contradiction - how can it be that you should love your friend equally to yourself? There is a rule in the Gemora: "Chayecha Kodmin." The concept of one's own life taking precedence is illustrated with the scenario of one of two parties in the desert finding a canteen with enough water in it to keep one person alive. The one who has it uses it, and is not supposed to give it to his friend. (Bava Metziah 62a) How then can it be, the Ramban wonders, that we're instructed here to love a friend equally to our love for our self, when we know that the Torah supports a person's survival instinct and says that ultimately your own life comes first?

What is the real meaning of VeAhavta LeReacha KaMocha?"KaMocha" need not be defined as "in equal measure," but can mean "in a similar way." The Ramban takes this phrase as an overstatement for emphasis. The Ramban explains that what we're commanded here is to love our friends also, as we love ourselves. That desire that we have regarding ourselves, to live and be well, should carry over to others.

This idea is supported by the Rambam (Mada 6:3) who writes that we should speak in praise of our neighbors, be careful with the honor and the property of others - as we are with our own. While it is true that our lives come first, that need not inspire us to wish badly for anyone else. On the contrary, what is expected of us by G-d, as conveyed in this command, is to wish only good for others.

The one thing we aren't expected to do is to wish for someone else to have something instead of us. The Ramban notes that it doesn't say "et reacha", rather "lereacha." "LeReacha means towards your friend, but not exactly the same. We know that we are not expected to love the person of our neighbor as much as we love our own self. However, we are expected to love our fellow in all areas, as we love all good for ourselves. Sometimes we want good for our friend in certain areas, but not in others. Ideally, we are told in this pasuk, we should root for our friend in all matters: wealth, honor, wisdom, etc. This is very difficult; jealousy causes us to feel competitive and sometimes to not wish to see others advance. Yonatan, who we are told loved Dovid "as he loved his own soul", personifies this ideal.

Rabbi Akiva is the one who states in Bava Metziah that a person's own life takes precedence over the life of a friend. However, and this serves as a strong support for the Ramban, Rabbi Akiva is the one who famously declared that "VeAhavta LeReacha Kamocha" is a "klal gadol" of the Torah. It seems that Rabbi Akivah was aware of the need for balance - looking out for yourself while not forgetting the rest of the world.We are told to love our friends as we love ourselves.

What is implied is the need to love ourselves. The fact that we want only the best for ourselves is assumed. But is it so? There seems to be an implicit command here to work on self love.May we be blessed to love ourselves and for that love to overflow to others.

First Things Last: Tazria - Published in Be'er Shavua

As high school runs its final laps for seniors they relish being the most experienced students in school. These young men and women have grown profoundly through four intense years of a dual curriculum and represent the end product of a yeshiva high school career. Still, it seems like seconds ago they were ninth graders and that position was not without it’s charm and innocence. In September, as college freshmen our seniors will again have the chance to see things from an original perspective, one that will grow and then again be gone in four years. It has ben my privilege to be part of the educational experience of this year's seniors. The following thoughts are dedicated to the Frisch graduating class of 2010.

According to Rashi the juxtaposition of the end of Shmini and the start of Tazria conveys the idea that just as in creation animals preceded people, so too in regard to laws of purity and impurity animals come first followed by people. There is a similar Rashi regarding Yaakov meeting Eisav and organizing his family (Vayishlach 33:2). This is the concept of acharon acharon chaviv. Antechambers precede grand ballrooms, this world precedes the next one (Avot 4:21) and Shabbos follows the week. (it’s not just a day of rest, but the best day of the week, created following all the other days). The best comes last.

On the other hand, first is best. First born gets honor and privilege. The first of the month (which we just celebrated) and the first of the year are days of prestige. The first aliyah of Torah reading is presented with honor to a Kohein .

Rav Shlomo Yosef Zevin addresses the issue of first versus last. He explains that when one thing precedes another and the first is a means and the second the end, then the last is clearly more important. Shabbat is more important than the days that precede it because the rest of the week is preparation for Shabbat. And this serves as a metaphor. In the words of Chazal: “He who works diligently before Shabbat will eat on Shabbat.” In a similar vein Rav Zevin cites the medrash on Breishit that tells us that when we live up to our potential mankind is told by G-d that everything was created for us and that's why we were created last.

On the other hand G-d reminds us when we stray, "even the gnat was created before you". While it may be true that last is best, as Rashi alludes to at the start of Shmini, this is only the case if what comes last elevates and transcends what came before it. But when last misses its spiritual calling, then it's first come first served, and whoever was physically created first is more esteemed, and last is last on the totem pole.

What really matters is how you use your position. Being first gives you a chance to thrive in a new place and in a fresh way. Being last allows you to build on what has come before. In our life we all are neither exclusively first nor last. In our lives we all have a first grade and a last, a first job and a last, a first love and a last. Each comes with its own advantage. On the one hand Chazal say that the education of a young person is comparable to writing on clean paper, which is better than writing on erased paper (Avot 4:25). Conversely, we are told that there is no one who is wiser than an experienced person (Mili De’Avot 10b).

May our high school seniors and all of us be blessed with the best elements of both being first and being last.

Shabbat Shalom
Rabbi Neil Fleischmann