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Is the Name Moshe Grammatically Correct? - שמות

Is the Name Moshe Grammatically Correct?

Moshe. What a beautiful name. 

The name was given to him by his adoptive mother, the daughter of Pharaoh, who called him Moshe because he was drawn from the water. As we read in the Torah: 

Pharaoh's daughter went down to bathe, to the Nile, and her maidens were walking along the Nile, and she saw the basket in the midst of the marsh, and she sent her maidservant, and she took it. (Exodus 2:5)

After the baby was given to his birth mother to nurse, the Torah relates: 

The child grew up, and she brought him to Pharaoh's daughter, and he became like her son. She named him Moses, and she said, "For I drew him from the water." (Exodus 2:10)

If you are familiar with Hebrew grammar, you may ask, why was he named Moshe ("the one who draws") and not Mashuy ("the one who was drawn")? After all, the one who drew was the daughter of Pharaoh and not the passive baby? 

The classic Biblical commentator Ibn Ezra raises this question and explains that in Biblical Hebrew nouns are flexible and do not conform to the specific rules of grammar:  

Do not be perplexed as to why moshe was not called mashuy, as nouns do not keep their forms as verbs do. 

Yet, perhaps, the form Moshe ("the one who will draw") is indeed precisely what his adoptive mother had in mind. When we look at Moshe's life for clues as to why he was chosen to lead the Jewish people, a pattern emerges. The Torah tells us nothing about his greatness, wisdom, humility or prophecy. Instead, the Torah relates three stories in which Moshe stepped in to protect the vulnerable: Moses saved a Hebrew slave from the Egyptian oppressor, he saved a Jew from being struck by his fellow Jew, and he protected the daughters of Jethro at the well in Midian. 

Moshe learned to step in and help others, despite the risk to himself, from his adoptive mother.. His name served as a constant reminder that his adoptive mother defied her father Pharaoh's wicked decree and drew him from the Nile, saving his life. Yet the name Moshe focuses not on the great act that she did, but rather on the lesson that she sought to teach him. He too must follow his adoptive mother's example, "drawing others" from their "water", saving others from their plight.

He must not only remember that he was saved, but that memory must motivate him to save others; he must not be a "Mashuy", "one who was drawn", but a Moshe, "one who draws others". 

 

The Crouching Lion - ויחי

 

The Crouching Lion 


At the end of his life, Jacob summoned each of his children to his bedside and blessed each one with their individual blessing. The blessings are beautiful and poetic but also mysterious and cryptic; they address both the character of each son as well as future events that would unfold with their descendants and members of their tribe. There are, therefore, multiple layers of interpretations and perspectives on each phrase of the blessings. We will explore dramatically different interpretations of one phrase in the blessings to Judah. 


Jacob blessed Judah with leadership, military might, and an abundance of wine, representing the fertility of his future portion of land in Israel. Jacob stated: "A cub [and] a grown lion is Judah", which Rashi interprets as referring to King David: "He prophesied about David, who was at first like a cub: "When Saul was king over us… and at the end a lion, when they made him king over them". Then, continuing with the metaphor of the lion, Jacob continues:  


A lion's cub Judah, from prey my sin you ascended; he kneeled, crouched as a lion and as an old-lion who will raise him?  (Genesis 49:9)


If the lion represents the might of King David, then what is the symbolism of crouching? Rashi and Onkelous explain that the crouching lion is a metaphor for a time of peace and tranquility, when the lion can rest and does not have to assert his might, for all its enemies will have already been vanquished. As Rashi explains:  


 This refers to the reign of King Solomon, when peace prevailed in the land and the people of Israel sat "each under his grapevine and each under his fig tree". No nation dared disturb their tranquility, as none would dare disturb a lion's rest. 


The Zohar, the primary book of Jewish mysticism, offers a completely opposite reading. To the Zohar, the crouching lion refers not to the tranquility of the era of King Solomon, when the Jewish people were at their peak both physically and spiritually, but rather to the time of exile, when the Jewish people are "crouching", are subjugated under oppressive nations. Yet they nevertheless retain the strength of the lion and remain steadfast in their commitment to Judaism and G-d. As the Zohar explains:  


This describes the people of Israel in their exiles: although they have been brought to their knees, they have the strength and perseverance of a lion, and are not swayed by the nations who persecute them and attempt to seduce them away from their faith and their practices. 


The Zohar, the inner perspective of the Torah, invites us to reexamine the apparent reality and find the deeper truth. Yes, the lion is crouching, seemingly in a weakened position, but, in truth, the lion is crouching in preparation of pouncing. The same is true for the Jewish people. Our personal and collective challenges, while they seem to weaken us, are, in truth, an opportunity to dig deeper and discover reservoirs of strength, to not only survive but ultimately to transform the world as well. As the Zohar continues: 


And as a lion who crouches not out of weakness but in order to pounce on its prey and vanquish it, so too the bride Israel in her exile is fallen only in order to pounce from her crouch as a lion and banish idolatry from the world.


Translation of Onkolous and Zohar taken from the new Open Book Chumash


Why Recite Shema at the Reunion? - ויגש

Why Recite Shema at the Reunion?

Finally, after twenty-two years of separation and mourning, Jacob was reunited with his beloved son Joseph. For twenty-two years, Jacob believed that his son Joseph had been devoured; and now, he was about to meet Joseph, who had risen to the position of viceroy of Egypt. The Torah describes Joseph's emotional reaction to the reunion:

And Joseph harnessed his chariot, and he went up to meet Israel his father, to Goshen, and he appeared to him, and he fell on his neck, and he wept on his neck for a long time. (Genesis 46:29)

But wait, what about Jacob? The verse does not inform us about Jacob; what was Jacob doing? The Midrash, quoted by Rashi explains that Jacob did not react emotionally at all, for Jacob was preoccupied with reciting the Shema: 

Jacob, however, neither fell on Joseph's neck nor kissed him. Our Sages said that he was reciting the Shema. 

Why was Jacob reading the Shema at that very moment? What message was he conveying to himself and us by declaring the oneness of G-d in the Shema? 

The Talmud analyzes a verse from the prophecy of Zechariah, which states that in the Messianic era, "The Lord will be one and His name one". The Talmud asks, how can we say that only in the Messianic era the Lord will be one, "Is that to say that now He is not one?" The Talmud explains that now there are two names of G-d, there are two distinct blessings, one for good news and one for bad news. In the Messianic era, however, this will not be the case, "His name will be one", there will only be one blessing, the blessing for good tidings: 

Rabbi Aḥa bar Ḥanina said: The World-to-Come is not like this world. In this world, upon good tidings one recites: Blessed…Who is good and does good, and over bad tidings one recites: Blessed…the true Judge. In the World-to-Come one will always recite: Blessed…Who is good and does good. There will be only one mode of blessing God for tidings. (Talmud, Pesachim 50a)

The Shema, the declaration of the oneness of Hashem, reminds us that not only is there only one G-d, but additionally  there is nothing outside of His oneness; there is no creation or experience outside the oneness of G-d. This is a declaration of faith and belief, yet we don't always experience this truth. In this world, we experience the dichotomy of "good tidings", times when we see and feel the presence of G-d, and "bad tidings", times when we feel abandoned and disconnected from G-d. Yet, in the Messianic era, we will experience the deeper truth, we will recognize that indeed G-d was with us even when we did not feel His presence. 

When Jacob reunited with Joseph, he experienced the perspective of the Messianic era. Jacob sensed that, in retrospect, G-d was indeed with him all along, that the apparent calamity of Joseph's disappearance was, in fact, positive and good, for it led to Joseph's ascension  to power and the salvation of his family and the entire region. Jacob recited the Shema in recognition that, indeed, Hashem is one, He is with us in every experience and in every moment. 

Would you Appoint a Poet as CEO? - מקץ

 

Would you Appoint a Poet as CEO?

  

Would you Appoint a Poet as CEO? A Philosopher as President? 


Just because Joseph was a genius dream interpreter, why would that qualify him to be the chief executive of the world’s superpower? Why would Pharaoh select Joseph to gather grain for the entire country and prepare for the seven years of famine instead of choosing an experienced administrator? 


The genius of Joseph was not that he interpreted Pharaoh's dream, predicting that there would be seven years of famine following the seven plentiful years. Joseph's radical insight was that the human being has the ability to interfere with the course of nature, to go up against the seeming inevitability of destiny, and to overcome his fate. 


The pagan Egyptian society believed in the absolute power of the forces of nature. If the gods of nature would choose to bring famine and destruction to Egypt, no human activity would be able to change that. No Egyptian would be successful in gathering grain because no Egyptian believed that it could be done.


When Joseph interpreted the dream he told Pharaoh: 


 It is this matter that I have spoken to Pharaoh; what Elokim (God) is about to do He has shown Pharaoh. (Genesis 41:28)


Jewish philosophy explains that the name of G-d which Joseph employed, Elokim, has the numerical value of the Hebrew word for nature, and refers to G-d as expressed within the laws of nature. Joseph told Pharaoh that the dream is an expression of the name Elokim, but the human being can dig deeper, and reach the name Hashem, which is the name that transcends nature, which can change the course of history.   


Indeed, Pharaoh's dreams were in multiples of seven: seven fat cows and seven emaciated cows, seven healthy ears of grain and seven beaten ears. The number seven, like the seven days of the week, represents the cycle of nature, which seems to be unstoppable and unchangeable. Yet, the holiday of Chanukah, which, interestingly, always occurs during this Torah portion, highlights not the number seven but the transcending number eight; the ability to express unconditional, supra-rational commitment to goodness and holiness, to challenge the undefeated army of the superpower of the time, and to prevail. 


The lights of Chanukah remind us that we are not defined by the statistics and algorithms of natural order. The candles teach us that we can transcend the natural darkness and lead the world to  a place of light, hope, and healing. 


Adapted from the Chasam Sofer



Did You Ever Wrestle With An Angel? - וישלח

 

Did You Ever Wrestle With An Angel?


Did you ever wrestle with an angel?


Did you ever overpower an angel? 

 

The Jewish people received their collective name, Israel, because of the episode in this week's Torah portion, where our father Jacob had an all-night wrestling match with a mysterious person who turned out to be an angel. In the morning, Jacob would not let the angel go until the angel agreed to bless him and said: 


So he said to him, "What is your name?" and he said, "Jacob."

And he said, "No more will your name said to be 'Jacob', but rather 'Israel'; as you have become ruler with the divine and with men and you have prevailed" (32:28-29)


There are many interpretations of the meaning of the struggle and the blessing; the Rebbe offered an interpretation that makes this story relevant to each of us, descendants of Jacob, members of the people of Israel. 


The Rebbe taught that yes, each of us does indeed struggle with an angel, and each of us, by virtue of being a descendant of Israel, possesses the ability to overcome and overpower the angel. 


What angel are we referring to?


The Talmud teaches that before a child is born, an angel declares the destiny of that child: 


As Rabbi Ḥanina bar Pappa interpreted that verse in the following manner: That angel that is appointed over conception is called: Night. And that angel takes the drop of semen from which a person will be formed and presents it before the Holy One, Blessed be He, and says before Him: Master of the Universe, what will be of this drop? Will the person fashioned from it be mighty or weak? Will he be clever or stupid? Will he be wealthy or poor?


The conventional understanding is that the angel's declaration determines our destiny and that we cannot become wiser or more successful than the declaration of the angel, which then becomes embedded within our nature. Yet the truth is that the very name of our people, Israel, represents the ability to" become ruler" and "prevail" over the angel of G-d. Embedded within the Jew is the ability to overcome the restrictions imposed by the natural self and transcend the inborn limitations. 


A Jew may feel that he or she has reached their capacity, that they reached the point beyond which they cannot cross. The angel in our portion tells us otherwise. Yes, there are limitations imposed by the natural world and even the spiritual DNA conveyed to us by the angels. Yet, the children of Israel are undaunted by the limitations of our nature. We are not afraid to wrestle with the angel; until, ultimately, we overcome both man and angel.


Adapted from the teachings of the Rebbe, Shabbat Yitro 5744


Why We Fall In Love With Rachel - ןיצא

 

Why We Fall In Love With Rachel 


Rachel was beautiful. 

Rachel was Beloved. 

Rachel’s children, Joseph and Benjamin, represent inner serenity, spirituality and righteousness. 

Jacob loved Rachel, he worked seven years, and then, after he was tricked into marrying her sister Leah, another seven years, for the right to marry her. 


Leah, by contrast, was not as beautiful.

[“Leah's eyes were tender”; Rashi explains: “Tender. Because she expected to fall into Esau’s lot, and she wept”.] 

Leah was not as beloved. [“and he {Jacob} also loved Rachel more than Leah”. 

Leah’s children were less than perfect. [They kidnapped their brother Joseph and sold him as a slave. Their father described Simon and Levi as “Cursed be their wrath for it is mighty, and their anger because it is harsh”.] 


But, surprisingly perhaps, it was Leah who gave birth to the most children and established six of the twelve tribes of Israel.
It was Leah’s children who became the leaders of the Jewish people, the monarchy from Judah, and the priesthood from Levi. 

It was Leah who merited to be buried with Jacob in the family plot, in the cave of Machpelah in Hebron; as opposed to Rachel who was buried on the side of the road, on the way to Beit Lechem.    


Like Jacob, we too fall in love with Rachel. 

We want peace, serenity, and a tension free life.  

Like Jacob, we too experience both the beauty of “Rachel” as well as the challenges of “Leah”. 

Like Jacob, we learn that growth and greatness comes not from perfection but from growing from the challenges. Not from innocence but from correcting mistakes. 

Like Jacob we learn that what G-d values more than righteousness is the effort and growth that emerges from overcoming the darkness of challenges and ultimately transforming them to light. 


Sweet or Spicy? - תולדות

 

Sweet or Spicy? - Two Types of Delicacies 


Why the inner struggle? Why do we find that it is a constant struggle to make the right, constructive, healthy, and positive choices in our lives? Why were we created with an unrelenting inner struggle? 


In this week’s Torah portion, we read about the twins born to Isaac and Rebekah. Jacob grew up to be a “wholesome man who dwells in tents {of study}”, Jacob carried the spiritual legacy of his father and grandfather, whereas Esau was a “man who understood hunting, a man of the field,” Esau pursued material success and physical might, with no interest in matters of the spirit.   


The dichotomy of Jacob and Esau was not merely a result of their choices. The Midrash explains that their eventual behavior can be traced back to the womb. As Rashi explains, on the verse “the children struggled within her {Rebekah}”: 


This verse calls for a Midrashic interpretation, for it does not explain what this struggling was all about, and [Scripture] wrote, “If it be so, why am I [like] this?” Our Rabbis interpreted it as an expression of running. When she passed by the entrances of [the] Torah [academies] of Shem and Eber, Jacob would run and struggle to come out; when she passed the entrance of [a temple of] idolatry, Esau would run and struggle to come out. 


A similar question emerges: why did G-d create Esau with a desire for sin? Why would a child of the righteous Isaac and Rebekah be born with an inclination toward evil? 

In the Tanya, Rabbi Shneor Zalman of Liadi, the founder of Chabad, explains that the inner struggle we face is not an impediment distracting us from fulfilling our purpose; but rather, we were specifically created to overcome the challenge of the struggle. We were created not for our own pleasure but rather in order to have the opportunity to bring pleasure to our creator. Esau, therefore, was born with an inclination and desire for negativity because his path to G-d, the way his deepest potential would emerge, was specifically by embracing and triumphing over negativity. That is where he would find the purpose of his creation.


When Isaac sought to bless Esau, he told him, “Make for me tasty foods as I like, and bring them to me, and I will eat, in order that my soul will bless you before I die.” The Zohar explains that Isaac was referring not only to the physical food but to spiritual nourishment as well. Issac employs the plural form, delicacies, alluding to the two forms of “delicacies” that bring pleasure to G-d, the righteous who are naturally drawn to do good, and to whom negativity is not tempting, is the “sweet food”. In contrast, the people who have to struggle and overcome inner tensions generate pleasurable “spicy food,” which, when appropriately prepared, causes immense pleasure. In the words of the Tanya: 


There are two kinds of Divine pleasure:

one from the complete annihilation of the sitra achara {the “other side”, the unholiness} and the conversion of bitter to sweet and of darkness to light, which is accomplished by the righteous…

and the second when the sitra achara is subdued while it is still at its strongest and most powerful, soaring like an eagle…

This is alluded to in the verse, “And make me delicacies, such as I love,”where the word matamim (“delicacies”) is written in the plural, indicating two kinds of pleasure.

These words are the charge of the Shechinah to its children, the community of Israel, as explained in Tikkunei Zohar — that with these words, G‑d asks of the Jewish people to please Him with their divine service.

Just as with material food, there are two kinds of delicacies —

one of sweet and luscious foods and the other of sharp or sour articles which are unpleasant to eat in their natural state, but have been well spiced and prepared so that they become delicacies which revive the soul — so, too, are there two kinds of spiritual delicacies. (Tanya, Chapter 27)


The Orchestrated Chance Encounter - חיי שרה

The Orchestrated Chance Encounter

Translation is always tricky business, yet sometimes the stakes are even higher than usual. In this week's Torah portion we encounter a word whose translation has far-reaching theological implications. 

Eliezer, Abraham's loyal servant, was sent back to Charan to find a wife for Isaac. Arriving at the well, he prays to G-d and asks for assistance in his important mission. He says:  

"O Lord, the God of my master Abraham, please cause to happen to me today, and perform loving kindness with my master, Abraham."

The Hebrew word "Hakreh", related to the word "mikreh", usually means "by chance" or "unintentionally". The theological question, of course, is whether there is such a thing as chance, or are events orchestrated intentionally by G-d? 

In his prayer, Eliezer employs the word "Hakraeh" which means chance. Apparently, some translations did all they could to avoid using the word "chance". Here are a few examples of translations:

  • "Send me good speed this day".

  • "Grant me good fortune this day".

  • "Be present before me".

  • "Arrange for me this day".

Other translations prefer a more literal translation, incorporating, or at least allowing, the concept of chance:

  • "let it happen today for me".

  • "make it chance".

While more aligned with the literal translation, these translations create a paradox: Eliezer prays that G-d orchestrate a chance encounter; the problem, of course, is that if it would be orchestrated then it would not be by chance. 

The Hebrew language will help us untangle the confusion. The Hebrew root word for chance, קרה, is phonetically identical to the root word of calling, קרא. What the Hebrew language is teaching us is that what seems to be a chance encounter is, in fact, a calling. For every event that occurs in our life, every circumstance we chance upon, every opportunity and challenge that presents itself in our path, is G-d calling to us to embrace the opportunities and mission within that encounter. 

This is perhaps one of the most important messages of the Torah, which would explain why the Torah elaborates and repeats every detail of the story of Eliezer.  While the words "chance" and "calling" are polar opposites, Hebrew, the holy tongue, and the story of Eliezer insist that they are one and the same. Every event in our lives is indeed a G-dly calling for us to imbue meaning, kindliness, and holiness into what seems a chance encounter.   

 

How to Be an Abraham - וירא

 

How to Be an Abraham 


In the opening scene of this week's Torah portion, G-d appears to Abraham as he is sitting at the opening of his tent: 


Now the Lord appeared to him in the plains of Mamre, and he was sitting at the entrance of the tent when the day was hot.

And he lifted his eyes and saw, and behold, three men were standing beside him, and he saw and he ran toward them from the entrance of the tent, and he prostrated himself to the ground. (Genesis, 18:1-2)


Abraham, while experiencing Divine revelation, noticed three bypassers and ran to invite them to rest and eat. The Talmud derives from this story that inviting guests is greater than greeting the Divine presence: 


Rav Yehuda said that Rav said: Hospitality toward guests is greater than receiving the Divine Presence, as when Abraham invited his guests it is written: "And he said: Lord, if now I have found favor in Your sight, please pass not from Your servant". Abraham requested that God, the Divine Presence, wait for him while he tended to his guests appropriately.


The message conveyed is that even our connection to G-d should not interfere with our care and concern for our fellow man.


The Rebbe interpreted this story from a different angle. 


The Torah conveys that the way to experience Divine revelation is by being devoted to helping others. The Torah tells us that G-d appeared to Abraham as "he was sitting at the entrance of the tent"; but why was he sitting there to begin with? Rashi, quoting the Talmud, explains: "to see whether there were any passersby whom he would bring into his house". G-d appeared to Abraham only after, and as a result of, Abraham's commitment to seek out people who needed assistance and support.   


The conventional lesson of the story is not to allow one's spiritual meditation, study, and focus to interfere with helping others. The Rebbe's interpretation explains how each of us can experience Divine inspiration in our own life. Indeed, the verse states "Now the Lord appeared to him", without mentioning Abraham’s name explicitly, because the same applies to each of us. By "sitting at the opening of the tent", seeking ways to help and inspire others, we will experience the inspiration and bond with the Divine.  


Why is a Land so Important to Judaisim? - לך לך

 

Why is a Land so Important to Judaism?

 

Why is a piece of land so important to Judaism? 

 

The very first commandment to Abraham, the first Jew, was "Go from your land, from your birthplace, and from your father's house, to the land that I will show you”.  As soon as Abraham reached the land of Cannan, G-d told him, "To your offspring, I will give this land".  At the conclusion of the portion we read about the covenant G-d made with Abraham, the covenant of circumcision, “This is My covenant, which you shall observe between Me and between you and between your seed after you, that every male among you be circumcised". The covenant of circumcision is related to the covenant of the land: "And I will establish My covenant between Me and between you and between your seed after you throughout their generations as an everlasting covenant, to be to you for a God and to your seed after you. And I will give you and your seed after you the land of your sojournings, the entire land of Canaan for an everlasting possession, and I will be to them for a God". 

 

Why is the land so important to Judaism? And why is the promise of the land related to the covenant of circumcision?  

 

Abraham was the first Jew, the first to discover the one G-d through the power of his own curiosity and intellectual inquiry. Abraham "called in the name of Hashem", taught people about monotheism. But the story of Abraham and the story of Judaism is more than a story about faith and more than a story about living a holy lifestyle. The story of Abraham, and the purpose of Judaism is to connect heaven and earth, to infuse the physical world with holiness. 

 

Circumcision, "My covenant shall be in your flesh as an everlasting covenant", represents the primary purpose of Judaism, not to transcend and connect to the heavens for their own sake, but rather the connection to G-d should permeate and change the physical body. And this is why the land is critical. The land of Israel, the Holy Land, where the soil itself is holy, like circumcision, symbolizes the goal and purpose of Judaism: sanctify every part of this physical earth. 

As summarized so beautifully in the new edition of the Chumash, elucidated by Rabbi Yanki Tauber

 

Indeed, if there is a common thread to the themes of Lech Lecha, it is this: the imperative to concretize spiritual ideals as actual, physical realities. Hence the emphasis on the land - a defined physical space - as the ground for the actualization of Israel's covenant with God. Hence the emphasis and the need for physical progeny for Abraham and Sarah - much of our Parsha revolves around the anticipation of this physical child - although Abraham and Sarah produced spiritual offsprings by the thousands. Hence the emphasis on the material wealth Abraham and Sarah extracted from Egypt, and the material wealth their children would extract from that same place 400 years later. Hence Abraham's identity change from "exalted father" to "father of multitudes". Hence the communication of Lech Lecha in Abraham circumcision - the ultimate physical Mitzvah. 

 

Adapted from the teachings of the Rebbe, Vayere 1991 

 

Why There Will Never Be Another Flood - נח

Why There Will Never Be Another Flood 

After the devastating flood, G-d declared that he would never again bring a flood that would destroy all of the earth. What caused this dramatic shift? The Torah tells us that it was in response to the offerings that Noah offered after the flood: 

And the Lord smelled the pleasant aroma, and the Lord said to Himself, "I will no longer curse the earth because of man, for the imagination of man's heart is evil from his youth, and I will no longer smite all living things as I have done. (Genesis 8:21)

It seems that the Midrash was troubled by the question of what it was about the pleasing aroma of the offerings that caused this dramatic turnaround, the Midrash therefore suggests that the "pleasing aroma" of the offerings that Noah offered, actually represented the commitment, dedication, and readiness of the future generations to sacrifice their own life for their commitment to G-d: 

The pleasing aroma that arose when Avraham, our forefather, was in the fiery furnace…, the pleasing aroma that arose when Chananiah, Mishael, and Azariah were in the fiery furnace…, and the pleasing aroma of the Generation of Forced Apostasy. (Bereshis Rabbah 34:9)

The willingness to cleave to G-d despite incredible external pressure expresses the soul's unconditional, unwavering, unchanging connection to G-d. This unchanging commitment elicits the unconditional, unchanging bond between G-d and creation expressed in the Divine promise: "So long as the earth exists, seedtime and harvest, cold and heat, summer and winter, and day and night shall not cease."

There is a more profound point as well. 

The sacrifice and dedication that the Jewish people demonstrated during times of persecution and darkness represent a profound truth: the greatest commitment and dedication cannot be generated and mobilized in times of "light" and serenity. For the darkness itself is what causes the greatest devotion to be awakened. Just like stones and obstacles placed into a stream will increase the energy and force with which the stream flows, so too, the darkness of the world does not bring to its destruction; but rather, it inspires individuals to tap into the deepest resources of the soul, which is bound up in the essence of G-d, and find greater strength and resolve, ultimately prevailing and transforming the evil itself into positivity. 

Adapted from the teachings of the Rebbe, Likkutei Sichos 20 Noach 3  

 

Begin with Bet? - בראשית

 

Begin with Bet?


Why does the Torah begin with the letter Bet, the second letter of the Hebrew alphabet? 


This question, raised by the Sages of the Midrash, is premised on the idea that every detail in the Torah, including each letter and nuance, is precise. In that case, the Midrash comments, would it not be more fitting for the Torah to begin with an Aleph, the first Hebrew letter? The Midrash teaches that indeed, for the first twenty-six generations of history, until the Torah was given, the letter Aleph complained to G-d, asking why it was not the first and primary letter in the opening statement of the Torah describing the beginning of creation. G-d responded by reassuring the Alef that when G-d would give the Torah to the Jewish people, the ten commandments would indeed begin with the letter Aleph:


Rabbi Elazar bar Ḥanina said in the name of Rabbi Aḥa: For twenty-six generations, the alef complained before the throne of the Holy One blessed be He. It said before Him: ‘Master of the universe, I am the first of the letters, but You did not create Your world with me.’ The Holy One blessed be He said to it: ‘The world and all its contents were created only for the sake of the Torah, as it is stated: “The Lord founded the earth with wisdom…” (Proverbs 3:19). Tomorrow {in the future}, I will be coming to give the Torah at Sinai, and I will open it at its beginning only with you, as it is stated: “I [Anochi] am the Lord your God”’ (Midrash Rabbah, Bereishit 1:10)


The opening verse of Genesis, “In the beginning G-d created the heavens and the earth”, represents the duality of the universe we live in, where everything is comprised of matter and energy, body and soul, physical and spiritual. The letter Bet, the second letter of the Hebrew Alphabet, was chosen to begin the story of creation, precisely because it represents the number two, the challenge and tension that is created by the conflict between the matter and the spirit, the holy and the mundane, the positive and the negative. 


This tension seems to be at the bedrock of creation, for it is featured in the very first and primary word describing creation. Yet, for generations, the letter Aleph, representing oneness and unity, protested silently. The letter Aleph would not accept that the universe must always remain in a state of inner conflict between two extreme poles. “Why not create a cohesive and united universe, a world where the unity of G-d would permeate all of reality?” insisted the letter Aleph. 


G-d responds that, indeed, the Ten Commandments, representing the awesome power of the Torah, begins with an Aleph, for the Torah reveals the deeper truth, that both the body and soul, the physical and the spiritual, the positive and the negative, are part of one whole, created by one G-d, for one unified purpose. The Ten Commandments begin with an Aleph, because a Jew, through studying the Torah and implementing its teachings, stitches together the physical and spiritual, revealing that the polar opposite forces of heaven and earth represented by the Bet, can be united and incorporated into a wholesome oneness.   


Why a Covenant? - נצבים וילך

Why a Covenant? 

On the final day of Moses’s life, he gathered all the Jewish people together in order for them to pass into a covenant with G-d. As the opening statement of this week’s Torah portion begins: 

You are all standing this day before the Lord, your God the leaders of your tribes, your elders and your officers, every man of Israel…

that you may pass into the covenant of the Lord, your God, and His oath, which the Lord, your God, is making with you this day. (Deuteronomy 29:9-11)

What exactly is a covenant? While the conventional understanding is that a covenant is an agreement that each party commits to in exchange for receiving something in return, in the Torah, a covenant is much more than a conditional agreement. 

A covenant is not designed for those times when both parties appreciate their relationship and are happy to be there for each other. A covenant is specifically designed for the moments when the parties do not see any reason to remain connected, yet they do so because of the unconditional commitment of the covenant. As the Alter Rebbe, the founder of the Chabad movement, explains: 

To explain through an analogy: Two beloved establish a covenant between themselves so that the love they share should not cease. Now, were the factor that brought about the love to continue forever, there would be no need for a covenant. However, they fear that will cease and, the love will also cease or that there will be an external factor that will cause .

For these reasons, they establish a covenant that their love will continue forever without faltering; neither an internal nor an external factor will cause any separation they establish a strong and powerful bond that they will remain as one and will bond in love in a wondrous relationship that transcends reason and logic. Even though, according to reason and logic, there that should cause the love to cease or even generate a certain degree of hatred, nevertheless, because of the covenant established, their love persists forever. This love and this strong and powerful bond will “cover all offenses.” (Likutei Torah, Atem Nitzavim)

Rashi addresses why the Torah uses the word “pass into the covenant” and explains that the manner of creating a covenant was to cut something, usually an animal, into two and have both parties pass through between the parts:

“That you may pass through the covenant.”: This was the method of those who made covenants: They would set up a demarcation on one side and a demarcation on the other, and “passed through” between , as the verse says, “ they cut the calf in two and passed between its parts” 

At first glance, dividing something into two seems to be the antithesis of a covenant, which represents the idea of unity. On deeper reflection, however, the dividing of the parts actually captures the essence of the unconditional bond expressed through the covenant. The purpose of the covenant of marriage, as well as the covenant with G-d, is to express the idea that what seems to be two autonomous, independent parties are, in truth, two halves of one united entity. Husband and wife are one soul, separated in half, and reunited in the covenant of marriage. The essence of the Neshama, the Jewish soul, is a part of G-d. When the Jew enters into a covenant with G-d, he expresses the deeper truth that the bond is unbreakable and unconditional because it is essential. G-d and the Jew are one. 

 

Does G-d Regret the Exile? - כי תבוא

 

Does G-d Regret the Exile? 


The Talmudic sages teach that there are entities that G-d regrets having creating. They include, the evil inclination within man, and the Chaldean and Ishmaelite peoples who oppressed the Jewish people throughout history. 


There, however, seems to be a disagreement regarding a fourth phenomenon, the exile, about which we read in this week’s Torah portion. The Babylonian Talmud lists the exile as one of the circumstances that G-d regrets having created:


Rav Chana bar Acha said that the Sages in the school of Rav say: There are four things that the Holy One, Blessed be He, regrets creating, And these are they: Exile, Chaldeans, and Ishmaelites, and the evil inclination. (Babylonian Talmud, Sukkah 55b)


Whereas the Jerusalem Talmud omits the exile from the list of G-d’s regrets: 


Rabbi Joshua Ben Yair in the name of Rabbi Phineas ben Yair {stated}: Three {things} the Holy One, praise to Him, created, and was wondering {regretting} why He created them. These are the Chaldeans, the Ishamalites, and the evil inclination. (Jerusalem Talmud, Taanit 3:4)


A careful analysis of both texts, reveal that this disagreement represents a profound philosophical difference in the way we view negativity and challenging circumstances in our world.  


In the Bablylonian Talmud the expression is “regrets creating”, highlighting the regret; whereas the expression employed by the Jerusalem Talmud is “created, and was wondering {regretting} why He created them”. The Jerusalem Talmud emphasizes, not only the regret (“wondering {regretting} why He created them”), but also that these were created by G-d (“The Holy One, praise to Him, created”). In other words, while the Babylonian Talmud focuses solely on the negative aspect of these creations, the Jerusalem Talmud, emphasizes not only the negative aspect (“wondering {regretting} why He created them”), but also the positive aspect (“The Holy One, praise to Him, created”). 


The Babylonian Talmud, was authored in the diaspora, in a state of relative spiritual darkness. Indeed, the Babylonian Talmud states that the Biblical verse in Lamentations, “He (G-d) placed me in darkness”, refers to the Babylonian Talmud, where there are far more questions and debates than in the Jerusalem Talmud. In a state of spiritual darkness the focus is not on what may happen in the future, but rather the focus is primarily on the present. Therefore, when the sages look at the negative state of affairs of exile they proclaim that the negativity within the experience of the exile, is something that G-d regrets, and therefore it will not endure.  


The Jerusalem Talmud, by contrast, was authored in the land of Israel, in a state of relative holiness and spiritual enlightenment and clarity. Therefore, as a rule, the Jerusalem Talmud takes into account not just the current state of affairs but also the future. In the future, the practical aspect of exile will cease to exist, and therefore the Jerusalem Talmud does not mention exile. The Jerusalem Talmud focuses on the future, where two things will happen, the negative aspect of reality will no longer exist, (“wondering {regretting} why He created them”), and more interesting and more novel than that,the energy of evil itself, the passion of the evil inclination and the wicked nations, which was created by G-d, will be transformed into positivity.


The Jerusalem Talmud teaches us to view reality by incorporating not only its current negative form, but to actually perceive the future transformation within the current state of darkness. 


Adapted from the teachings of the Rebbe, Lekutei Sichos 24 Ki Savo 2 

 


Self-Doubt on the Road to Sinai - כי תצא

Self-Doubt on the Road to Sinai 


"You shall remember what Amalek did to you on the way, when you went out of Egypt." 


Remembering Amalek is the final commandment in this week's portion, and is one of the "six remembrances", the daily recitation of six events in our history which we are commanded to remember.


What is the purpose of remembering Amalek? The Torah reminds us of what Amalek did, and tells us about the obligation to battle Amalek: 


How he happened upon you on the way and cut off all the stragglers at your rear, when you were faint and weary, and he did not fear God.

[Therefore,] it will be, when the Lord your God grants you respite from all your enemies around [you] in the land which the Lord, your God, gives to you as an inheritance to possess, that you shall obliterate the remembrance of Amalek from beneath the heavens. You shall not forget!


Why do we recite these verses every day if this commandment cannot be fulfilled in the practical sense? Battling Amalek cannot be done today since (a) the commandment is upon the Jewish monarch, which does not exist today, and (b) we currently cannot identify the lineage of Amalek. 


Chasidisim teaches that Amalek represents doubt. The Numerical value of the Hebrew letters that create Amalek is the same as the word for doubt, "Safek". Every morning, we awake with the goal of leaving the limitations and constraints of the metaphorical Egypt and moving closer to "Mount Sinai", the place where we connect to G-d and embrace our spiritual mission and inner purpose. And then, precisely when we begin our journey, Amalek strikes. The verse states, "How he happened upon you." The Hebrew word for "happened", Karcha, is the same word as "kor", coldness. Amalek steps in and drains us of passion and excitement with thoughts of self-doubt: perhaps my efforts won't bear fruit, perhaps I will not succeed, perhaps the people I love will not appreciate my efforts and commitment. Perhaps all this is meaningless. 


While a dose of doubt is beneficial to ensure that we are reaching the truth, not making mistakes or being taken advantage of, doubt "on the road", while we are beginning to work to achieve our goal, is always a terrible thing and must always be battled immediately and fiercely. For no endeavor will succeed without passion and excitement, no endeavor will succeed if one believes that he is in a situation by chance (as Amalek is described as "happened upon you"); to live a life of meaning and purpose, a person must believe that his endeavor is significant and precisely what he needs to engage in so that he proceeds to Sinai.   


Every morning, our tools to battle the coldness and self-doubt of Amalek are our enthusiastic passion in prayer and Torah study, and by remembering that we are critical partners in G-d's purpose for creation. 


Adapted from the teachings of the Rebbe, Likkutei Sichos vol. 2 Ki Teize 


 

 

 

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