A Quick Thought on Parashas B'Haalos'cha

At the beginning of this week's Parashah, after the Torah describes how Aharon had to position the lights of the Menorah, it goes on to describe that the entire Menorah was hewn of a single block of gold; that its branches and its intricate details were all made of one solid piece.

 

The question is, in describing the various karbanos that were brought in the Mishkan, the Torah doesn't describe how the Mizbei'ach was built. Nor does it tell us how the Shulchan was built when it tells us about the lechem hapanim.

 

Why does the Torah have to tell how the Menorah was made?

Furthermore, the passuk says that it was made like "the vision that Hashem had shown to Moshe." Why is this germane here?

 

Perhaps the answer lies in the fact that the Menorah, as Chazal tell us, represents Torah study. The flames of the Menorah, the commentators explain, refer to students and children, those whose flames of Torah are lit by the Kohen -- the parent and the teacher.

For for the education of the child to work, to keep that flame lit, requires that everything be made of a solid piece, that everything be consistent. That what we say and what we do jibe. That we live by the ideals that we espouse. That is how we succeed in inspiring and teaching.

 

But there is another element: our behavior must be modeled after the mareh asher her'ah Hashem es Moshe, the G-d-given directive for how to behave and how to act. The dictates and directives of the Torah.

 

It is then that we can then hope to light flames that will cast the light and and spread warmth of Yiddishkeit to future generations and to all who come in contact with them.

 

May we indeed be zocheh to that.

 

Good Shabbos

Parashas Nasso

At the end of this week’s parashah,  we learn that the nassi of each shevet brought a offering at the inauguration of the Mishkan.

Every day for the first twelve days, one nassi brought a korbon, and the Torah details the individual offering of each nassi. As we read through the descriptions, we quickly note that each of the offerings was identical. Yet the Torah – which is generally sparing with its words to the point that an extra letter can teach us a halachah – repeats each detail 12 times.

A number of the commentators note that although each nassi brought the identical animals and utensils, each one of them arrived at the formulation of his own offering on his own, with calculations and reasons specific to his shevet.

Imagine, however, that you were Avidan ben Gidoni, the nassi of Shevet Binyamin, who brought his korban on the ninth day. You pondered and studied and came up with the composition of your offering, only to realize that it’s the same thing the previous eight nessi’im had brought.

Most of us would go back to the drawing board to recalculate. We’d try to come up with an offering that would not be as spiritually perfect, but would offer unique expression for our shevet. After all, people don’t know our real intentions. If we brought what we initially planned to, they’d never believe we came up with this on our own. Do we need them snickering that we are copycats?

The nesi’im, however, were unfazed. Their heroism, expressed by their commitment to do what was correct, earned them – and their korban – eternal commemoration in the Torah. They have a place in posterity.

The Rema, in the very first paragraph of Shulchan Aruch, adjures: “And a person should not be embarrassed by those who mock him in his service of Hashem.”

Torah and halchah are the blueprints and guidelines for living perfect and fulfilled lives. They are the Owner’s Manuals for our souls. When we comport ourselves accordingly, it is an expression of our commitment to be true to our values.

Emerson famously wrote, “A foolish consistency is the hobgoblin of little minds, adored by little statesmen and philosophers and divines. With consistency a great soul has simply nothing to do.”

This parashah teaches us that Emerson was wrong.

Consistency can frequently be a sign of moral fortitude and courage. A brave stand for what is right.

And great souls can often find their fulfillment in consistency, while weaker ones hide behind “creativity” and “expression” to mask their own insecurities and moral bankruptcy.

May we all be zocheh to do what is right, without regard to the opinions of those less committed. Then we, too, will merit to have a place in posterity.

Gut Shabbos.

Parashas Bamidbar

In this weeks' parashah, the Torah directs us to count the Jewish nation from the age of 20, but to count the children of Levi from the age of 30 days.

 

Rashi notes משיצא מכלל נפלים הוא נמנה ליקרא שומר משמרת הקדש, once [the child] is viable. he is counted to be called 'a guardians of that which is sacred ." Rashi then cites a Midrash: R' Yehudah b'R' Shalom observed that Shevet Levi had a history of being counted from infancy, as we find that Yocheved, who was born as Yaakov entered Egypt, was counted among the 70 family members who descended.

 

It would seen that Rashi  and the Midrash he cites are teaching us an important lesson.

 

Initially, the firstborn were to have the distinction of being "guardians of that which is sacred." The sanctity of the firstborn is also a distinction that comes at birth. But following the episode of the eigel, the Golden Calf, Moshe called out "Whoever is for Hashem, come to me." And although all of Shevet Levi responded to Moshe's call, not all the firstborn of the other shevatim did.

 

Apparently, they were unprepared for their mission and lost their opportunity. They forfeited their unique role. It was then that Levi was chosen to be the "guardians of that which is sacred."

 

Shevet Levi, on the other hand, seems to have been imbued with a different set of values. Even in Egypt they were committed to Torah study and were therefore never ensnared into the subjugation there. The chinuch they received inspired every one them to respond to Moshe's call.

 

Every Jew is special and is counted. But if we want our children to become all that they can, if we want them to become part of the honor guard of guardians of that which is sacred, we must, from childhood on, inspire them with a sense of distinction and mission.

 

May we all inspire ourselves and our children to be our best, and at this year's kabbalas HaTorah, may we truly recognize that we are an integral member of Hashem's "Kingdom of kohanim and a holy nation."

 

Gut Shabbos and gut Yom Tov.

Behar-Bechukosai

First my apologies (to those who missed them) for not having posted the past two weeks due to deadlines at work.

There is a seeming contradiction in the berachos the Torah promises at the start of Parashas Bechukosai.

First the Torah tells us that if we toil in Torah and do the mitzvos, Hashem will make peace in our land. In fact, it tells us that things will be so peaceful, armies will not even pass through our land to attack other countries.

Then the Torah tells us that five of the weakest of us will successfully chase a hundred of our enemy and a hundred will chase 10,000.

But who are these enemies? Will be living in peace and tranquility. Why would we have to chase anybody?

Perhaps the Torah is teaching us the following: When Klal Yisroel as a whole does what’s right, when we toil in Torah and we do mitzvos, there will be peace. We won't have challenges physically and we won't have challenges spiritually. And when the core of the nation is strong, even those individuals who are personally weak, will succeed in overcoming their challenges with no problem.

It is only when we fail as a nation, when the strong ones fall short in their commitment and responsibilities, that those on the wayside are unable overcome their challenges. It is then that we all run in fear, but “there is no pursuer”; when we flee from “the sound of a rustling leaf.”

When we fail, we seek bogeymen, but there is no problem on the outside, the problem is on the inside. But we don’t see that.

Until we recognize the truth, as long as we look elsewhere for the cause of our own failings, we cannot correct ourselves. And that is the greatest curse of all.

As Pogo famously said, “We have met the enemy, and he is us.”

May Hashem give all of us the wisdom and the discernment to correctly identify our problems improve ourselves, so that even those on the margins will be able overcome their challenges, and so Hashem will again make it evident to all that we are His children and His nation.

Gut Shabbos.

Tazria-Metzora

I begin this week’s thought by expressing our profound and unending gratitude to Hashem for the infinite berachos with which He showers our family. May he continue to give us berachah, and may He grant everyone in Klal Yisroel berachos, hatzlachos, yeshuos and nechamos in all their endeavors, in every area of life.

This week’s parashah begins with the korbanos brought after a woman had given birth. We are told that she must bring two korbanos, an olah – a burnt-offering which is completely burnt on the mizbeiach – and a chatas – a sin-offering.

Although the Torah first makes mention of the olah, Rashi cites the gemarah in the Zevachim that when it came to offering them, the chatas actually preceded the olah.

This being the case, why does the Torah refer to the olah first?

Perhaps the Torah is teaching us a distinction between korbanos and our behavior.

A chatas, a sin-offering, should be motivated by a person’s sincere desire to reconcile and grow closer to Hashem, a sentiment that is represented by the olah. The olah is mentioned first because that motivation is to precede the simple wish to cleanse oneself the stain of sin.

On the other hand, when a person acts, when he begins the journey of repentance, he should first endeavor to stay away from evil – סור מרע – as represented by the chatas, and then go on to do good – ועשה טוב – as represented by the olah.

May we all be zocheh to draw close to HaKadosh Baruch Hu and do His will.

Gut Shabbos.

Parashas Tzav

This week’s parashah discusses the Laws of the Korbanos. It Begins with Hashem telling Moshe צַו אֶת אַהֲרֹן וְאֶת בָּנָיו לֵאמֹר זֹאת תּוֹרַת הָעֹלָה הִוא הָעֹלָה..., Command Aharon and his sons saying: This is the teaching of the Olah-offering, this is the Olah-offering…

Rashi explains that the term tzav, command, implies that they were being encouraged or urged, immediately and for generations to come.

What was so important about this particular command that made it imperative for them to be so impelled? Furthermore, why the redundancy; why not just say This is the teaching of the Olah and go straight into conveying the laws?

Rashi explains that since the meat of the Olah-offering was completely burned – unlike other korbanos where the kohen generally gets a portion to eat – the kohanim needed to be cautioned to treat the Olah with alacrity.

Perhaps there is another lesson as well. One being taught to the Kohanim and to all generations.

The kohen was involved with many sacrifices each day. After awhile, any korban might come to be viewed as “just another offering.”

The Torah here is telling us: This is the teaching of the Olah-offering. This is THE Olah-offering – definitively. This one is IT. Don't lose sight just because you deal with many offering. Each one must be treated like it is the one and only offering. Perhaps this is the offering that will tip the scales for the entire world (see Rambam, Hil. Teshuvah 3:4).

This is a lesson not just for Kohanim, but l’doros, for all generations: No matter how much we have done, how many mitzvos, how many blatt gemara we have learned, how many acts of chessed we have done, this is THE olah, this next mitzvah must be treated as if it is the only one.

May we yet merit to bring the Olah-offerings and the Pesach-offering in the Beis haMikdash this year.

Gut Shabbos.

Parashas Vayikra

"Vayikra" the first word of this week's parashah, is written with a diminutive aleph.

Rashi tells us that "vayikra," "and he called," is a term that reflects affection. Each time Hashem addressed Moshe, he first “called” to him with love.

On the other hand, the word "vayikar," "and he chanced upon" - the word used when Hashem speaks to the non-Jewish prophets - reflects an impersonal, cold, functional interchange.

Moshe did not want to flaunt the special relationship he enjoyed with Hashem, and would have preferred to hide it by writing "vayikar." However, Hashem had commanded that word in the Torah be "vaykira." Hence, the "compromise" of the small aleph.

In a similar vein, in last week's parashah, we are told that Moshe carried out his charge of assembling the Mishkan. At each step we are told that he did so "as Hashem commanded Moshe" – not, as would be expected, “as Hashem commanded him.”

Moshe discharged his duties to the nth degree, but he did so with no ego; it was not "as Hashem commanded 'him'," – because Hashem had spoken with him – but "as Hashem commanded Moshe," – because Hashem had spoken, and Moshe took no pride in his status.

In each person's life, there are times he (or her) is called upon to play a role: to lead, to teach, to accomplish.

These parshiyos remind us that though Hashem may have called us and commanded us with love and in His grace to do what needs to be done, it should never be about us.

To the extent that we lessen our focus on ourselves, we will surely be granted greater success in fulfilling Hashem's Will. And that’s what it’s all about.

Gut Shabbos.