Parashas Toldos

In this week's parashah, we are told how Yitzchok and Rivkah prayed for children and that Hashem responded to Yitzchok's plea and granted them children.
 
Rashi quotes the well known Chazal that the efficacy of the prayer of a tzaddik who is the child of a tzaddik is far greater than the tefillah of tzaddik who is the child of a wicked person, so much so that they are not even comparable.
 
What is the Torah's purpose in telling us this? What lesson is there?
 
It's noteworthy that Yitzchok himself was not the descendant of a long line of righteous people. He had only one generation of righteous forebears, Avrohom and Sarah.
 
One generation of righteousness enhanced the power and efficacy of Yitzchok's tefillah so exponentially that the two were “eino domeh,” beyond compare.
 
The Torah may be trying to impress upon us how profound an impact our choices and deeds have, not only on our own spiritual level and destiny, but also on that of generations to come.
 
Our actions have amazing potential to spiritually empower and strengthen our progeny.
 
May we merit to make the right choices and be motivated to do the proper actions, and may we have the siyata d'Shmaya to succeed for ourselves and for the doros who follow.
 
Gut Shabbos.

Chayei Sarah

This week’s parashah tells the story of the shidduch of Yitzchak and Rivkah.
Rivkah, we are told, was righteous even as a child (see 24:16). She was so great that the water in the well rose up toward her (Rashi 24:17). When she left home to marry Yitzchak – at the age of 3 – she was brought to Sarah’s tent. Upon her entry the miraculous blessings that had ceased with Sarah’s demise – the candles would remain lit from one Friday to the next; the dough was blessed, so that people were satisfied with only a small amount; and a Divine cloud hovered above the tent – all returned (Rashi 24:67).

How could a young girl grow up in a wicked city and a family and know not to act like them?

When Eliezer describes to Rivkah’s family how he met her, they respond “MeiHashem Yatzah hadavar, this is clearly Divine intervention…Hinei Rivkah lifanecha, kach va’leich, behold Rivkah is before you, take her and go… (24:50-51)” Yet, as Eliezer is about to leave with her, they suggest “teishev hanaarah itanu yamim o assor, let the girl remain with us for a year or 10 months (v.55).”

What’s going on?

Later, when Rivkah is leaving to get married, they wish her that the blessings Hashem gave Avrohom following the akeidah should be fulfilled in her children (Rashi 24:60). Apparently, they were well aware of the blessings and firmly believed they would come true. In fact, we continue to invoke their words to this day (see, for example Kitzur Shulchan Aruch 147:3).

So did they believe in Hashem or did they not?

It seems that Rivkah grew up in a family that, intellectually, recognized the truth. The problem was they did nothing about it. Even as they recognized the clear hashgachah pratis and declared, “here is Rivkah, take her and go,” they still tried to stop it. Even as they believed that Avrohom was blessed by Hashem, they could not embrace the Truth of his teachings.

This was nothing new, their grandfather, Terach, had similarly conceded to Avrohom that his idols were powerless. Yet despite this, he continued to worship them and even gave his son over to be killed for challenging their efficacy.

The difference between a righteous person and an evil one isn’t in what they believe, it is in whether the person conducts his life based on his beliefs.

Rivkah grew up in a home where she was exposed to the truth. What distinguished her from those around her was that she – like her uncle Avrohom and aunt Sarah – behaved in accordance with the values she held dear.

Anyone in Rivkah’s family had the tools to become great; only Rivkah used those tools to become a Mother of Klal Yisrael.

May we all learn from her example to live our lives according to the Torah, so that we, too, can “be all that we can be.”

Gut Shabbos.

Parashas Vayeira

This week’s parashah includes the story of the Akeidah.

Avrohom Avinu, now 137 years old, is commanded to bring his son – the son for whom he had waited 100 years and who was his designated heir – as an offering to Hashem.

Rather than ask questions, Avrohom rises early in the morning and saddles his own donkey for the trip. As Chazal note – ahavah mekalkeles es hashurah, Avrohom’s boundless love for Hashem led him to act with zealousness even as he was going to sacrifice his own son.

Accompanied by his faithful servant and disciple Eliezer, his older son Yishmael, and, of course, Yitzchak, they journeyed 3 days toward their destination. Midrash Tanchumah describes how, over the course of those three days, the Satan attempted various ruses to dissuade Avrohom from his mission, ultimately placing a river in their path. But Avrohom was undeterred.

Finally, on the third day, vayaar es hamakom meirachok, Avrohom saw the place from a distance. Chazal explain that haMakom here referes to Hashem; from the distance, Avrohom perceived a cloud, representing the Shechinah, hovering over Mount Moriah.

He asked the others what they saw. Yitzchak, too, saw the cloud, but Eliezer and Yishmael did not see anything. So Avrohom took Yitzchok, and told the others to stay behind with the donkey – as if to say, teaches the Midrash, that they are just like the donkey that was also unable to see the cloud.

But just because Eliezer and Yishmael had not achieved the elevated level of Avrohom and Yitzchok, does that mean they are as low as animals?

Perhaps the problem was not that Eliezer and Yishmael were unable to see the cloud, but that they did not know where to look for it.

After three days of a challenging mission, Avrohom and Yitzchok looked around until they found the Shechinah, and they saw it was still in the distance. Eliezer and Yishmael, on the other hand, did not look far away. After overcoming the tests of the trip, they expected to see the Shechinah right before their eyes. Perhaps they never looked in the distance. Like a donkey, they expected their gratification to be delivered to them.

Avrohom teaches us that we must not be discouraged when, after overcoming a nisayon, we do not immediately find fulfillment. Sometimes Hashem is still in the distance. It does not mean our efforts were for naught, or that our service is being rejected, it simply means our mission is not yet complete. In fact, seeing Hashem from afar means that we have, indeed, reached the level of being “people.”

May the zechus of the Akeidah protect us, and may we be merit to perceive the Shechinah up close in our own everyday lives, and, soon, as a nation, b’vias goel tzedek.

Gut Shabbos.

Parashas Lech Lecha

In this week’s parashah, we are told of the battle between the four kings and the five kings.

After introducing the kings, we are told, “כָּל אֵלֶּה חָבְרוּ אֶל עֵמֶק הַשִּׂדִּים הוּא יָם הַמֶּלַח, All these joined in the Valley of the Fields, this is the Dead Sea.” Rashi explains that the Valley, which was then full of fields, later became the Dead Sea.

The Torah then describes the juggernaut of the four kings as they vanquished nation after nation, until the five kings went out to wage battle with the four kings בְּעֵמֶק הַשִּׂדִּים in the Valley of the Fields…וְעֵמֶק הַשִּׂדִּים בֶּאֱרֹת בֶּאֱרֹת חֵמָר וַיָּנֻסוּ מֶלֶךְ סְדֹם וַעֲמֹרָה וַיִּפְּלוּ שָׁמָּה..., And the Valley of the Fields had many pits of clay, and the Kings of Sodom and Gomorah fled, and fell there…

Why does the Torah need to tell us where the kings joined together? And why is it important for us to know where they battled? And according to Rashi, the pits were empty holes from which people had previously dug out earth for use in construction. If so, the point is that the Valley had pits, why do we need to be told that they had been formed by digging out the earth for use as clay?

Perhaps this homiletical interpretation can resolve these questions:

The war between the kings was not a battle for basics, but a battle for wealth.

It wasn’t just that the kings got together at a location called The Valley of the Fields. The Torah tells us that the catalyst that brought them together was “the fields,” the draw of property and wealth.

These were fields abundant with pits of cheimar, the dangers associated with the pursuit of chumriyos, materialism.

It was this avarice that had attracted Lot to Sodom and its environs. It was this unfettered greed that defined the people there and into which the kings of Sodom and Gomora fled and fell – it would ultimately lead to their doom. 

The message is that the “Valley of Fields,” materialism, is, in reality, Yam Hamelach, the Dead Sea; a place of such utter desolation that no life can exist there. The field is the mirage that draws man to his own undoing.

May we be granted true blessing and abundance, with success and possessions and that bring life in this world and the next.

Gut Shabbos.