Vayechi - "My People?"

The following is transcribed from a piece on Vayechi by Rav Moshe Feinstein. It's in Darash Moshe, published by Artscroll/Mesorah. I promise.

"I shall be gathered to my people." - Breishit 49:29
It is unclear to whom Jacob was referring with the word "people." He could not have meant the
Jewish people, since he himself was the first of them to die, and had he meant Abraham and Isaac he would have said, "I am about to be gathered to my fathers."
To understand what Jacob meant, I wish to suggest that even though a particular group may not be considered a distinct people in our world, in the world of truth a "people" is defined by the strength of its belief in Hashem and by the quantity and quality of merits accumulated through efforts in this world. Surely the tzadikim who had made themselves known in the world until that time, including Adam, Seth, Methuselah, Shem, Eber, and, of course, Abraham and Isaac, would constitute such a group.
This is what Jacob meant:"I shall be gathered to my people" - to the righteous ones who have a place together in the world of truth because they believed in Hashem, and therefore i wish to be buried with my fathers, Abraham and Isaac.

Toldot 5771 By Me- Rabbi Neil Fleischmann

Toldot

Toldot reads like a Divine essay on family systems as it chronicles wide-ranging aspects of building a household. Theparsha covers infertility, family coalitions, favoritism, and sibling rivalry. It provides a study of early child rearing, which includes the challenges of recognizing personality types and the need to build on strengths.

Of particular interest to me is the fact that Parshat Toldot includes insights on how being a son or daughter impacts a person's life. The word toldot is pregnant with implications. Rashi translates it as offspring, while Sforno says toldotmeans story. These are related, as one way or another a person's story is his offspring.

Curiously, the parsha's opening statement, "And these are the toldot of Yitzchak", is followed by neither a list ofYitzchak's children, nor by a story about Yitzchak. The second half of the sentence, "Avraham gave birth to (holeed et) Yitzchak", doesn't even sound like it's about Yitzchak.The first sentence of Toldot teaches us that a person's story, a person’s children, can be understood through discovering who birthed him.

Upon reaching the age of responsibility an individual becomes obligated to keep Torah and Mitzvot. This is known as abar or bat mitzvah. Upstanding young Jewish men and women are called bnei and bnot Torah. I find this placement of the image of being a son or daughter into the context of observance of mitzvot to be striking.

On the other hand, one who commits an aveira is called a baal or baalat aveira; one who has a sin (similar to the wayYosef was described, as baal chalamot - the one who had dreamt, baal chov - one who has a debt, and of course the generic baal - one who has a wife ( perhaps because that is the most cricial link for a man to have anything in this life). The message seems to be that in the realm of mitzvot we must remember that we are someone's son or daughter. However, when we miss the mark of what is right we must own our behavior and not blame our parents for what is ours.

While some may feel inclined to blame mothers or fathers for all that is difficult in life while crediting themselves with success and growth, the opposite approach seems more appropriate. Intertwined throughout Parshat Toldot and foreshadowed in the opening pasuk is the idea that parents and children are deeply connected. Goodness of children is a positive reflection on parents, and by logical extension on grandparents. The negative actions of offspring, however, are their own responsibility.

Yaakov and Eisav were the children of Yitzchak and the grandchildren of Avraham in terms of potential and actual goodness. When they reached the responsible hour of their Bar Mitzvah they chose who they wanted to be. One son went to hunt and be out in the field, the other chose to sit in tents and reflect and they were held accountable for the consequences of those decisions.

We are all someone's son or daughter and our actions reflect on our lineage. It serves us well when we remember that what our parents did was, as Leo Buscaglia put it, the best they could. It is up to us to own and work to correct our imperfections.

May we be blessed with continued growth as we tweak the good work our parents began.

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.