JHI Dvar Torah on Parshat Vaeira

PARSHAT VAEIRA - SELF-DELUSION

Parshat Vaeira describes the first seven of the 10 plagues that The Almighty visited upon the Egyptians. Moshe (Moses) was sent by Hashem (G-d) to warn Pharaoh of the first of the ten plagues. In the Torah (Parshat Vaeira, 7:15), it is written that Moshe was told to greet Pharaoh (A) at the Nile and (B) in the morning when he could always be found at the riverbank. Why did this message have to be delivered at the Nile, and why did it have to take place in the morning?

Based on the Midrash (Shemos Rabbah 9:8), the Commentary of Rashi answers these questions. Pharaoh had promulgated the canard that he was a god. To support his claim of divinity, Pharaoh made certain that he was never seen voiding bodily wastes. So, he went to the Nile very early in the morning when he could not be seen by others in order to attend to these physical needs. Hashem therefore commanded Moshe to accost Pharaoh in the morning as he was showing himself to be mortal and not at all godly.

[Why exactly Pharaoh did this is somewhat unclear. It could be that this was only a method that he employed to strengthen his hold on the people. If they thought him to be a god, then they would be less likely to disobey his commands or to revolt. Possibly, in addition to strengthening his control over the people, Pharaoh simply enjoyed the measure of deference that was otherwise only conferred upon a deity.]

In discussing this biblical incident, another Midrashic source, (Yalkut Shimoni ibid.) reveals yet more about Pharaoh’s claim to godliness. That Midrash writes: “The Almighty said to Moshe, "Because he (Pharaoh) made himself into a god, show him that he is flesh and blood. Behold, he goes out to do his needs in the morning. Grab hold of him and inform him that he is flesh and blood." Moshe grabbed hold of him. He (Pharaoh) said to him (Moshe), "Leave me so that I can take care of my needs. Afterward, I will speak to you." Said Moshe, "Is there a god that sees to these needs?"”

The words of the Yalkut Shimoni indicate that Pharaoh was not only convincing others that he was a god. He actually believed it himself. The Midrash’s words are, "Because he (Pharaoh) made himself into a god, show him that he is flesh and blood.” Evidently, Pharaoh had to be shown that he himself was not a god. This further demonstrates the extent to which people can be mistaken about their own stature. Apparently, the forces of ego and arrogance are such that people can mislead and delude themselves to the point of actually seeing themselves as gods.

Upon closer examination, there is yet an even deeper insight into this text. It is not just that Pharaoh deluded others and himself on the issue of his godliness. Clearly, Pharaoh understood that the need to void his bodily wastes was proof positive of his own mortality. This was why his trips to the river were in the morning – it was to keep them secret. This accomplished that the public, that was unaware of his daily trips to the “Men’s room,” was fooled. But Pharaoh himself knew of these trips…he took them himself. If so, how could he, at the same time, believe that he was a god?

This highlights an even greter extent to which arrogance can distort one's self concept. Even while in the midst of concealing that which without question proves them mortal, people are able to imagine themselves a deity.


At first glance this idea has little practical application. People who see themselves a deity are few and far between. If so, for those of us will not declare ourselves gods, it matters little if, theoretically, we could or could not believe such nonsense.

At second glance, though, the idea has significant application. If people can delude themselves into thinking that they are an outright deity, they can certainly see themselves as being a 50% or 10% deity. In other words, their egos can lead them to believe that they are ‘somewhat superhuman’ - to a greater or lesser extent. Like Pharaoh, one is capable of maintaining this mistaken self-perception, despite abundant evidence to the contrary. Pharaoh fully believed that he was a god – even as he was scurrying in the morning to his secret outhouse.

It is thus understandable that people can view themselves as having great business savvy, notwithstanding abundant evidence to the contrary. Similarly, they may see themselves as being extremely erudite in Torah when in fact they are not. In truth, there is virtually no end to the extent of the distortion that people can harbor about themselves. While it may be readily apparent to others that the egotistical perception is a fantasy, to the one doing the distorting, it can, nevertheless, be seen as undeniable fact.

It is thus easy to see why some people invest in businesses mistakenly thinking that they will know how to make it a success. Some decide on weighty matters of Torah that require great scholarship despite being entirely unqualified to do so. Some self-ordained parenting experts seriously harm their children with their foolish child-rearing theories that wiser people reject. To others, it can be obvious that the inflated regard such people have for their own wisdom is disconnected from reality. Yet, this manifest truth might be totally lost on the ones making the flawed self-assessments. Like Pharaoh, they might be clinging to a perception of their own greatness that is utterly contravened by their own everyday activities.

It is therefore wise counsel for people to be especially cautious when making decisions that are based on what they feel capable of doing or deciding. One can be terribly wrong about these matters. Perhaps, a good way to negotiate such situations is to solicit the opinions of trusted friends or family members whose expertise and good judgment is widely recognized. “Do you agree that I can turn a profit on this business venture? Do you agree with my grasp of the Torah’s view on this matter. Is my parenting theory correct?” Being open to the thinking and opinions of other good and knowledgeable people can be a potent safeguard against to the peril of self-delusion.


To help defray the cost (in time) of its production, and as a way of supporting our Jewish outreach organization in Cambridge, we are asking people to consider sponsoring this weekly email Dvar Torah. It is a meaningful way to note an occasion such as a graduation, birthday, anniversary, yahrzeit, etc.
The “cost” is $120, but amounts greater than $120 will of course be gladly accepted. The sponsorship will be noted in the Dvar. Thank you in advance!(Should the situation arise, we consider it acceptable to have more than one sponsor per Dvar.)

JHI Dvar Torah on Parshat Shemot

PARSHAT SHEMOT – SEEING AND FEELING


SHEMOT 3:7 And Hashem (G-d) said: "I have certainly seen the afflic­tion of my people that are in Egypt, and their cries I have heard because of their taskmasters, for I know their pains."

COMMENTARY OF RASHI (ibid.) "For I know their pains" As it is written (in 2:25). "And Hashem took cognizance of them," that is to say I have set My heart to consider and to know their pains and I did not hide My eyes, and I did not close My ears from their cries.


These words of the Bible describe the first in the sequence of events that culminated in the Exodus of the Jews from Egypt. Hashem “took note” of the suffering Jewish slaves in Egypt. He did not block His Eyes to avoid seeing their pain, nor did He block His Ears to prevent Himself from hearing their cries. Then, in response to their suffering, He initiated the process of their redemption.

[It should be noted that any mention in the Torah of Hashem Seeing or Hearing cannot be taken literally. G-d does not require additional focus to see or hear, nor does He have Ears and Eyes (as we know them) that must be blocked to stop His Hearing or Sight. Rather, these descrip­tions depict His actions in human-like terms for the purpose of instruction. It is a method of teaching about how human beings typically react and about what constitutes proper conduct.]

The Jews were suffering from their slavery in Egypt. The Almighty, who Loves all people, then dedicated His focus upon their plight in order to be maximally attuned to their travail. Through this example, the Torah is teaching that it is not enough to be aware of another person’s suffering. To become fully sensitized to the situation at hand, one must first consciously focus on that person’s travail, despite however obvious it might appear to be.

A comparable human situation might entail someone without a family who is languishing alone in a hospital bed, suffering from a painful disease. Then, two otherwise equally kind acquaintances of the patient began thinking of possibly paying a hospital visit. The first of the two thought about it for a moment. The second acquaintance, however, began contemplating, for a full two minutes, how awful it must be to face this illness alone and how much the patient must therefore be suffering. Based on this text, the second friend would be far more attuned to the suffering of the patient, despite the fact that the details of the illness are well known to both of them. Accordingly, it is far more likely that the second friend would make the hospital visit.

Why, however, was there a need, in this particular situation, for this delib­erate effort to become sensitized to the suffering of the Jews? Seemingly, even a casual glance at their circumstances would arouse any observer. It was glaringly obvious that they were suffering - and terribly. Newborn Jewish male babies were being drowned and they were sub­jected to inhuman working conditions. The Midrash (a Talmud-era work) provides another glimpse at the extent of the Jews suffering in Egypt. The Midrash writes that when the Jews came to Mount Sinai after miraculously crossing the Red Sea, Hashem performed another great miracle and cured them all. Prior to that point, most of the Jewish adults were maimed or crippled from the beatings they had received at the hands of the Egyptian taskmasters.

This indicates that even this extreme and blatantly apparent level of suffering and torture would typically be ‘seen but not fully felt’ by a human observer. It is only after “Setting one’s heart to consider and to know their pains” that one will fully appreciate the situation of the victims.

As a practical matter, this teaches that even perfectly kind and honorably people could ‘see and yet not feel’ the obvious misfortunes of those with whom they constantly interact – even when loved ones are the ones who are suffering. For example, parents can be intellectually aware that their beloved children suffer at school from learning problems and yet do little about it. They are perfectly capable of ‘seeing the problem but not noticing it’ – and for years on end. However, if those same parents would visit the school to seriously discuss the problem with the teachers and spend time speaking with their child about the details of the difficulties at school, they would suddenly become far more attuned and proactive. The added measure of emotional involvement might then motivate the parents to seek out a solution. The difference in the child’s well-being could last a lifetime.

Human suffering is unfortunately all around us. The Torah is teaching that an ethically appropriate response will likely not result from merely “seeing” this travail. It must also be “felt.”




This Dvar Torah was adapted from a Musser Schmuess (discourse on ethics) by the author’s Rebbe (primary teacher of Torah), Rabbi A. H. Liebowitz (1918-2008).

To help defray the cost (in time) of its production, and as a way of supporting our Jewish outreach organization in Cambridge, we are asking people to consider sponsoring this weekly email Dvar Torah. It is a meaningful way to note an occasion such as a graduation, birthday, anniversary, yahrzeit, etc.
The “cost” is $120, but amounts greater than $120 will of course be gladly accepted. The sponsorship will be noted in the Dvar. Thank you in advance!(Should the situation arise, we consider it acceptable to have more than one sponsor per Dvar.)

JHI Dvar Torah on Parshat Vayechi

PARSHAT VAYECHI – EMOTIONS

Parshat Vayechi describes the events surrounding the death of the Forefather Yaakov (Jacob) in Egypt. After being mourned in Egypt, Yaakov’s body was brought to the city of Chevron (Hebron) in Israel to be interred in the Cave of Machpelah. Adam and Chava (Eve) as well as Yaakov’s wife, parents and grandparents were already buried there.

Upon arrival at their destination, Yaakov’s brother Eisav (Essau) suddenly appeared and confronted the burial party. He claimed that as the eldest son of Yitzchak (Isaac), he owned the cave’s one remaining grave, and that the funeral should therefore not proceed. The brothers countered that Eisav had sold Yaakov his rights to the burial place (see Rashi, Bereishit 50:5). When Eisav asked for written proof, they replied that the supporting documents had been left in Egypt. Eisav persisted, so Naftali, one of Yaakov’s sons, was dispatched to Egypt to return with the paperwork. Until his return, Yaakov’s body would have remained unburied.

Chushim ben Dan, a grandson of Yaakov, could not follow the discussion because he was hard of hearing. Chushim finally inquired as to why the burial was being postponed. His relatives explained that Eisav had compelled them to delay the funeral until Naftali could fetch those documents from Egypt. Enraged over the indignity to the body of his grandfather, Chushim struck Eisav’s head with a lance. Eisav was killed, and the burial was promptly concluded.

(Due to reasons that are too complicated for this Dvar,) Chushim’s reaction is considered by the Talmud to have been proper and appropriate. The Commentary of the Maharal of Prague (by Rabbi Yehudah Loewy, 1525-1609) therefore questions why Yaakov’s sons didn’t kill Eisav themselves. Why did they wait for a grandson to do it?

The Maharal answers that the brothers felt physically incapable of overcoming Eisav, who was a physically formidable foe and a mighty warrior. Yaakov's children were no doubt agitated and enraged over the fact that the body of their illustrious father lay unburied before them. Yet, although they surely called to the fore every ounce of their capacity - physical, intellectual and spiritual, they were unequal to the task of killing Eisav. Proof of such is that the Torah does not criticize their inaction.

Why was Chushim different? They heard Eisav’s arguments as they were being presented, and they only realized in stages what Eisav was doing. Thus, as the situation was unfolding, they were constantly accustoming themselves to Eisav’s words and their ramifications. Hence, their ire was not suddenly aroused at any one given point.

Chushim, though, was apprised of the entire incident at once, due to his deafness. His rage over what Eisav was doing was thus far greater. For when incitement occurs suddenly, emotional intensity is at its greatest. The Maharal’s words are that, “Chushim was therefore aroused with the strength to kill Eisav.” Chushim’s additional surge of emotional arousal infused him with an extra measure of strength. Consequently, the same task that was impossible for Yaakov’s sons was doable for this newcomer on to the scene.

The fact that Chushim had the strength to act when the others did not underscores the significance of the emotional component of one’s personality. One may be absolutely incapable of a given task that is seen as an absolute necessity. However, attaining a deeper emotional commitment to the goal may invigorate and strengthen a person to the point where the absolute outer limit of his or her physical capacity is expanded. Heretofore impossible goals might then become attainable. Whether or not a highly significant event will transpire could lie in the balance.

This insight has everyday application. Regarding religious observance, there are numerous opportunities to upgrade one’s emotional connection to Hashem (G-d). For example, deep inspiration can constantly occur during the daily recitation of the various prayers. An uplifting of religious feeling can result from visits to ‘holy people’ or holy places. The heartfelt singing of the special Shabbat zemirot (songs) inspires many others. One should take advantage of these opportunities.

Within the mussar movement, great stress is placed on continually reviewing, in a singsong manner, words of the Torah that speak of already accepted beliefs and ethical precepts. This exercise emotionalizes basic concepts, so they become more firmly embedded into one’s personality. Otherwise, the heavy traffic of life can cause people to overlook that which may have already been assimilated intellectually. In a similar vein, through emotionalizing rather than just intellectualizing his debts of gratitude, a grown man can become a far more devoted husband or son to his parents.

The text demonstrates that attaining even the slightest additional measure of emotional feeling (the very slight difference in emotional outrage between Chushim and the others) can prove critical in a matter of major significance.


A curious phenomenon of recent decades has been the widespread study of Kabala by Jews with little or no knowledge of Torah, and even by Gentiles. Throughout the centuries, it was mostly accepted that a comprehensive knowledge of the entire revealed Torah is a prerequisite for studying Kabala. Intelligence and sincerity notwithstanding, one simply cannot comprehend the hidden secrets of Kabala without this prior knowledge. Within Judaism, traditionalists therefore oppose this modern proliferation of Kabala study.

There is one argument that is often cited to support the premature study of Kabala. Some claim that Kabala can often touch the emotions of the soul in a manner that purely rational Torah thought cannot. Seemingly, the idea of Maharal quoted in this Dvar supports this argument, for it demonstrates the enormous significance of one's emotions.

When viewed in context, the Maharal's words are irrelevant to the debate over the premature study of Kabala. In the case discussed by the Mahral, Eisav’s disrespect was apparent and unquestionable. Chushim acted differently because he more deeply emotionalized Eisav's crude and blatant affront to Yaakov’s body. Then, his extra measure of enthusiasm empowered him to accomplish what the others could not.

This, however, does not prove that pure emotionalism that is mostly disconnected from rational thought confers any significant gain. Accordingly, studying Kabala without understanding the material might not have energized Chushim at all. (In fact, the author’s rebbe (primary teacher of Torah), Rabbi Henach Liebowitz (1918-2008) taught that emotionalism that is not linked to logical thought will tend to dissipate without leaving any enduring benefit in its wake.)

Emotions are truly beneficial when they intensify one’s commitment to already accepted truths.



This Dvar was mostly taken from Rabbi Ganz’s book, “Defining Humanity.”

To help defray the cost (in time) of its production, and as a way of supporting our Jewish outreach organization in Cambridge, we are asking people to consider sponsoring this weekly email Dvar Torah. It is a meaningful way to note an occasion such as a graduation, birthday, anniversary, yahrzeit, etc.
The “cost” is $120, but amounts greater than $120 will of course be gladly accepted. The sponsorship will be noted in the Dvar. Thank you in advance!(Should the situation arise, we consider it acceptable to have more than one sponsor per Dvar. Should you prefer to be a sole sponsor, please let us know?)

JHI Dvar Torah on Parshat Vayigash

PARSHAT VAYIGASH – DERECH ERETZ (RESPECT)

Parshat Vayigash continues telling the story of Yosef (Joseph) and his brothers.
The great famine predicted in Pharaoh’s dreams persisted. As a result, Yaakov’s sons made a second journey to Egypt to purchase food necessary for their survival. Unbeknownst to them, the viceroy of Egypt who oversaw these transactions was, in fact, their brother Yosef whom they had sold into slavery years earlier.

Yosef finally revealed his true identity. He then attempted to assuage his brothers’ embarrassment over what they had done to him. Yosef represented that Hashem’s (G-d’s) prophetic plan was that he should rise to an influential position in order to save them from death by starvation. Yosef then went on to urge his brothers to journey homeward and to return with Yaakov and the entire family. Once in Egypt, they could live with honor while being sustained by Yosef.

Yosef then sent along a message to his father that was somewhat different from what he told his brothers. To his brothers Yosef said that Hashem sent him to save their lives (Parshat Vayigash 45:5). To his father, he spoke of being sent by Hashem to prevent them from becoming destitute (if they had to remain in Israel and spend all of their money on food – ibid. 45:11).

The Commentary of the Ramban (ibid.) explains that Yosef’s shift in language was deliberate. The actual truth was what he conveyed to his brothers - they could all die if they stayed in Israel. However, openly confronting his father Yaakov (Jacob) with this reality involved a certain lack of respect. Although true, it was tantamount to saying that the very life of the father was in the hands of the son. Yosef therefore understated the urgency and sent a different message to Yaakov - moving to Egypt was necessary to avoid poverty. This was a more deferential and subtle expression of the crisis situation.

[Yosef’s fulfillment of his obligation to be respectful was very precise and calculated. He no doubt was normally respectful to all people – especially to his esteemed elder brothers. Yet, to them, he spoke directly. He likely reasoned that the threat to their lives superseded his obligation to address them with greater delicacy. However, when addressing his father, Yosef had an een greater obligation to be respectful. Yosef therefore only spoke to Yaakov about becoming impoverished.]

The special derech eretz due Yaakov as a parent prevented Yosef from speaking more directly. In truth, there was good reason to speak more bluntly. The very fact that Yosef had to present these arguments indicates that the entire family had to be convinced to move. A more forceful message would have provided greater assurances that Yaakov and his family would leave Israel for Egypt and be saved. It was therefore possible that the deference of Yosef’s more delicate speech could heighten the danger to Yaakov’s life.

A fundamental principle of Torah is that the imperative to preserve human life takes precedence over all of the Torah’s prohibitions, save the three mortal sins of idolatry, adultery, and murder. Accordingly, if rescuing a life entails disrespect, the duty to save a life overrides the obligation of respect. Why then did Yosef diminish his efforts to save Yaakov’s life in order to speak respectfully? Why was Yosef’s approach proper at all?

In truth, the situation facing Yosef was different from typical danger to life for at least two reasons: (1) The threat to life was not immediate, for it involved a future danger of starvation. Perhaps the morrow would bring Yaakov a different salvation. (2) Yosef did partially discuss the urgency at hand, and Yaakov could have surmised that it was his life and not just his money that was endangered. Therefore, although the interests of Yaakov’s safety would have been better served by talk that was more blunt, Yosef’s communication to Yaakov was bound by the conventions of derech eretz.

The ethical concept that is inferred from this text can impact upon virtually every human interaction. Yosef made certain to speak with extreme respect – this, notwithstanding the fact that doing so created the possibility of some danger to life. If so, when there is no danger to life, the Torah certainly obliges people to always be most respectful. Such factors as familiarity, intimacy, or being in a position of authority do not confer a license to act and speak disrespectfully or to even dispense with such words as “Please” and “Thank you.” Even in dress, a certain measure of respect is always called for in any relationship. According to the Torah, the frayed sweatshirt one wears when having breakfast alone might be unsuitable for breakfast with one’s spouse. Derech eretz might require wearing a sweatshirt that is not frayed.

The following two vignettes are illustrative of the Torah’s mores on derech eretz.
One of the most beloved and esteemed Torah scholars of recent decades was Rabbi Shlomo Zalman Auerbach of Jerusalem (1919 - 1995). He was married to his wife for over 60 years, and they reputedly had a truly beautiful relationship. The story was told of a man who was walking R. Auerbach to his home. As they were about to enter, R. Auerbach suddenly stopped and began straightening his clothing and doing his best to remove the Jerusalem dust from his hat and everything else he was wearing. The man was puzzled, and he asked what this was about. R. Auerbach replied: “I am about to be seen by my wife. To honor her, I must first make myself as presentable as possible.”

The great authority on Torah law Rabbi Moshe Feinstein (1895-1986) once answered a questioner in a manner that also reflects the Torah’s attitude to derech eretz. A young man had left his small town to study at a large yeshivah, and many months later, he returned home for holidays. While away, he was inspired to begin focusing intently when reciting the daily prayers. This led him, like many other idealistic and devout yeshiva students, to begin taking a fairly long time to recite the Amidah. Doing this in his hometown synagogue, however, would mean finishing the Amidah long after the synagogue’s rabbi. The locals, who had never attended a yeshivah, could misconstrue this as being somewhat disrespectful or disparaging to their rabbi.
R. Feinstein was asked about what the young man should do. Was he obligated to suddenly focus LESS on his prayers just because he was visiting his parents? The answer given was that he should never in any way even APPEAR to be lessening the honor of the rabbi. Rather, he should observe derech eretz and force himself to “focus fast” and conclude the Amidah no later than the local rabbi.

This Dvar was mostly taken from Rabbi Ganz’s book, “Defining Humanity.”

To help defray the cost (in time) of its production, and as a way of supporting our Jewish outreach organization in Cambridge, we are asking people to consider sponsoring this weekly email Dvar Torah. It is a meaningful way to note an occasion such as a graduation, birthday, anniversary, yahrzeit, etc.
The “cost” is $120, but amounts greater than $120 will of course be gladly accepted. The sponsorship will be noted in the Dvar. Thank you in advance!(Should the situation arise, we consider it acceptable to have more than one sponsor per Dvar. Should you prefer to be a sole sponsor, please let us know?)

This week’s Shabbat Chanukah Dvar Torah is being sponsored by Mr. and Mrs. Jay Viders of Huntington, New York in honor of their children and grandchildren.



PARSHAT MEKETZ – SHARED RESPONSIBILITIES

Parshat Meketz begins with Yosef’s (Joseph’s) interpretation of Pharaoh’s dreams. Yosef explained that the dreams foretold that Egypt would enjoy seven years of abundant harvests, followed by seven years of severe famine. Pharaoh, following Yosef’s advice, utilized the first seven years of plenty to store the surplus food. Once the famine began, there were widespread food shortages, and the people had no choice but to begin buying their grain from the storehouses of Pharaoh.

The famine also affected Yaakov (Jacob) and his family of 11 adult sons (the future Tribes of Israel) who then lived in Israel. It became apparent that to avoid hunger and possible death from starvation they too would have to purchase provisions in Egypt. Nevertheless, time passed, but not one member of the family took action. Finally, Yaakov came forward and commanded his children to journey to Egypt to procure food, warning them that without this purchase, they all could perish.

Why didn’t they act sooner? Inaction would have endangered the lives of Yaakov, his sons and the Jewish people of the future. The Commentary of the Sforno (by Rabbi Ovadia Sforno 1475 - 1550) explains that their inaction was due to the Talmudic dictum: “A pot owned by partners does not become cold nor does it cook” (Eruvin 3a).

The Talmud’s words regarding the “pot of partners” describe a basic characteristic of group dynamics: a task presented to a body of people will tend to remain undone. The Commentary of the Maharsha (by Rabbi Shmuel Eliezer HaLevi Eidles, 1555-1631) explains that the pot neither cooks when that is desired, nor is it chilled when that is called for. The reason for the inaction is that each member of the group assumes that another person will attend to the matter.

Yaakov and all his sons were partners — members of a group that was collectively faced with the responsibility and task to procure food.

In the actual Talmudic example of the pot, the issue at hand is generally benign; whether or not a given food item is served in its optimal state is normally immaterial. But would a joint responsibility for something more crucial elicit a different outcome? What if the situation is potentially life threatening? What if the people of the group were extremely high-minded and capable? Could one expect a different response from the group? Would people then overcome their collective inertia and rise to immediate action?

The task before Yaakov and his sons concerned a life-and-death situation. Although all human life is precious, their lives were especially important. Yaakov is referred to in rabbinic literature as the chosen (most perfect) of the Forefathers; his great and distinguished family was the Jewish nation of the future. They were the proponents of monotheism in an idolatrous world. If food were not procured in Egypt, they could have all died of starvation.

One can hardly imagine a more urgent yet achievable task being placed before a more virtuous and capable group of individuals. Could there ever be a greater likelihood that a group would overcome its inertia and act? Yet, had Yaakov left it to the group, they may very well have starved to death due to the psychology of the “pot of partners.” They only acted and journeyed to Egypt after the explicit command and direction of Yaakov.

Evidently, the paralysis of the “pot of partners” can incapacitate people in any situation, notwithstanding the uprightness and wisdom of those involved and the gravity of the situation. In any group dynamic, unless there is a clear division of labor with assigned specific domains of responsibility, this will tend to hold true.

From the response of Yaakov, one can also discern the method for overcoming this phenomenon of collective inaction. Yaakov understood that as an entity, the group itself would do little or nothing to save itself, mortal danger notwithstanding. The dynamic of the “pot of partners” mummifies communal response, irrespective of the talents of those involved and the seriousness of the situation. Yaakov therefore personally assumed control of the situation, thereby averting disaster. A group can best realize an objective when one of its members assumes leadership and acts with cooperation and assistance from the others.

To segue a bit into politics…One of the most contentious issues of the day concerns the extent to which government should help its citizens. In particular, the recently passed Obama Health Care Bill seems to have polarized the Left and the Right of the political spectrum as few other issues have.

This is not a format for taking positions on such matters. However, the source text of this Dvar indicates that by definition, management by government is less efficient than management by the private sector. Who, for example, should be held responsible if a sector of the federal government misfunctions? At the very least, it is the senators and congressmen who voted to fund it, the Office of Management and Budget that approved the expense, and the paid professionals who administer the program. This translates into overlapping jurisdictions – all of whom are responsible for the same thing - overseeing that part of the government.

Accordingly, in this type of situation, the extent of government involvement in almost any entity will likely correlate with its inefficiency and demise. Again! This is not meant as a statement on the imperative of government to offer entitlements to its citizens. Rather, it is merely saying that very-often-or-most-often, ‘enterprises run by government do not run very well.’



This Dvar was mostly taken from Rabbi Ganz’s book, “Defining Humanity.”

To help defray the cost (in time) of its production, and as a way of supporting our Jewish outreach organization in Cambridge, we are asking people to consider sponsoring this weekly email Dvar Torah. It is a meaningful way to note an occasion such as a graduation, birthday, anniversary, yahrzeit, etc.
The “cost” is $120, but amounts greater than $120 will of course be gladly accepted. The sponsorship will be noted in the Dvar. Thank you in advance!(Should the situation arise, we consider it acceptable to have more than one sponsor per Dvar. Should you prefer to be a sole sponsor, please let us know?)

JHI Dvar Torah on Parshat Vayeshev

This Dvar Torah is being sponsored by Ms. Helen Bauer of France in memory of her aunt Taub bat Berel whose yahrtzeit is the 26th of Kislev.


PARSHAT VAYESHEV - EXTREME PIETY

Parshat Vayeshev contains one of the most dramatic stories of the Chumash (Bible) - the temptation of Yosef (Joseph). Yosef was then a slave in the household of Potifar, a high-ranking minister of the Egyptian king. Though a slave, Yosef was extremely talented, and Potifar entrusted him with the management of the entire household.

Yosef was extremely handsome. As a result, Potifar’s wife began to ceaselessly entice him to sin with her. On the day of a major Egyptian celebration, Potifar’s entire household left to join in the rejoicing save his wife who feigned illness and remained at home. Yosef then entered the house, and almost succumbed to her temptations. The image of his father Yaakov (Jacob) then miraculously appeared threatening that if he sinned, Yosef would be eternally severed from his heritage. Yosef then seized control of himself and fled.

The Midrash Rabbah on Shir Hashirim, as explained by the Commentary of Etz Yosef, writes that Yosef’s intention in coming to the house on that day was to do his regular work. This devotion to his duties was indicative of Yosef’s great piety and integrity.

To quote the original texts: “Rabbi Nechemiah said, It was a day of tiatron of the Nile, and they all went to see, and he [Yosef] entered to do his work, to calculate the accounts of his master” (Midrash Rabbah Shir Hashirim 1:1).

The Commentary of Etz Yosef on the Midrash explains – “To me it appears that it was the day that the Nile burst forth from its banks to rise upon the entire land of Egypt, [and therefore] they made on it [that day] a rejoicing in the land of Egypt. And that is what Rabbi Nechemiah concludes: “and they all went to see and he [Yosef] entered to do his work.” According to this, it is understandable that the scripture [took the trouble and] taught that he came to the house to do his work. For this is significant in that it demonstrates the chassidus (extreme piety) of Yosef. For even though all the servants and maidservants were subordinate to him, and they all went to be present at the merriment, nevertheless, he did not go with the counsel of the revelers, nor did he sit with scoffers. But he faithfully came to the house to do the work of his master.”

Much is written in the Torah describing Yosef’s G-dly stature. Yosef’s brothers were all people of enormous holiness. Yet, Yosef was apparently the most pious of them all. He is referred to in Torah literature as Yosef Hatzaddik — Yosef, the supremely righteous man. Yosef was also a great scholar of Torah. By age 17, he had already mastered all of the Torah that Yaakov had acquired over a 14 year period during which Yaakov did not even interrupt his study in order to sleep (Rashi, Bereishit 13:3). Furthermore, although Adam, Noah, and the patriarchs had already lived, it was the merit of Yosef fleeing from the temptation of Potifar’s wife that caused the Red Sea to ‘flee’ from before the Jews and split at the time of the Exodus when they were being chased by Pharaoh’s soldiers and chariots (Midrash Yalkut Shimoni on Tehillim 114:3).

The Midrash came to reveal an additional and heretofore unknown dimension to Yosef’s piety. What could eclipse all of Yosef’s other spiritual accomplishments? What deed demonstrated yet greater piety than that which is otherwise known about Yosef? This Midrash provides the answer…Yosef worked most faithfully for his master Potifar.

Evidently, extreme integrity in matters of money requires consummate righteousness and sanctity. Thus, Yosef’s being a faithful employee demonstrated an additional level of piety that would not have been otherwise evident, notwithstanding all of his other G-dly attributes.

Many people who do not work in Torah-related fields are troubled by the nagging feeling that their daily labors do not involve spiritual growth. The Midrash and Etz Yosef are teaching that in fact, virtually any workplace presents a unique opportunity for such. Working with absolute integrity as Yosef did can beget exalted holiness. Of course, “Absolute integrity” at work connotes far more than basic job performance. It means, for example, that unless permission is granted, one should work during every minute for which he is paid; one must never pocket anything from the business, however small, such as a paper clip, a pencil, and so forth.

It is very disappointing to hear reports of outwardly devout Jews being implicated in major financial wrongdoing. The (incorrect) impression given by such news is that devout Orthodox Jewish observance can coexist with ongoing financial misconduct. As this Dvar indicates, little could be further from the truth.

The following quote from the Kav Hayashar (a great 17th Century work on Torah ethics and the service of G-d) chapter 52 strongly emphasizes this Torah ethic. “One should not rely on what he sees with his eyes — that [the person observed] is acting with perfection, for one man does not know what is in the other’s heart. Always remember this principle: He who does not wish to have benefit from the money of his friend and certainly does not wish for stolen money, and [one whose] financial dealings are with integrity — he is certainly a man that is a tzaddik (truly righteous person) and is just. But when one sees another Jew kissing tefillin and praying and not dealing with money with integrity, one must distance himself from him with all forms of distancing. For the fundamental fear [of G-d] and piety is [expressed] in matters of money. And every man that maintains his piety in financial matters, he is the consummate tzaddik.”

JHI Dvar Torah on Parshat Vayishlach

PARSHAT VAYISHLACH – MULTIPLE FOCUS


Parshat Vayishlach begins by describing Yaakov (Jacob) returning to Israel together with his family after a long absence. Yaakov was then quite wealthy and his camp contained flocks of animals as well as other forms of wealth. As he drew closer to the destination, Yaakov was informed that his brother Eisav (Essau) was approaching with four hundred armed men. It was evident that Eisav might attempt to murder them all. Yaakov countered with a three-pronged strategy of 1) presents (bribery) for Eisav, 2) prayer, and if all else failed, 3) war.

On the eve of his encounter with Eisav, Yaakov relocated his entire party and divided them into two groups. His thinking was that if Eisav would prevail and attack one of the camps, the other one might be able to escape.

Yaakov then returned to the old camp to retrieve several small items. The Talmud (Chullin 91b) explains that Yaakov’s return was in keeping with the practice of tzaddikim (very righteous people) who guard their money most dearly. The classic work of ethics, Orchot Tzaddikim (probably 13th Century, author unknown) explains that Yaakov’s behavior was rooted in the principle that all people, including the wealthy, should take care to avoid the unnecessary loss of even small amounts.

Yaakov had just divided his camp so that if one group was slaughtered, the other might be saved. He was clearly in the midst of a true life-and-death struggle for himself, his family, and by extension, the entire Jewish nation of the future. Avraham (Abraham) and Yitzchak’s (Isaac’s) sacred heritage of monotheism was thus also at stake. The climax of this encounter would occur on the following day. Yaakov’s focus upon his salvation was thus no doubt most intense and single-minded.

The Torah attaches supreme importance to the value of human life. If one must choose between saving a life and observing a mitzvah, it is generally forbidden to perform the mitzvah. The Torah must be violated so that the life will be saved. Certainly then, one should not distract himself from rescuing people in order to retrieve small items of little value.

How then can Yaakov’s actions be explained? He had two choices before him. One option was to continue his efforts to protect himself and his family. The alternative was to divert a measure of time and attention and return to the old camp for a few small items. He elected to recover the objects. Was this choice correct if it in any way lessened his concentration on the salvation of human life? Could any other “unimportant” activity (such as recovering small items) even remotely compare to the importance of the imminent struggle with Eisav?

It must be that Yaakov’s focus on saving lives was in no way diminished. Yaakov calculated that this detour would not minimize his chances of saving himself and the others. All possible preparations had already been completed, and Yaakov was certain that retrieving the items would not divert his attention from the main task before him. Otherwise, the Torah would have forbidden his actions.

Evidently, man has the ability to rivet his attention on a major and all-engrossing undertaking while not losing sight of even the smallest minutia of other far less critical matters. Somehow, one can focus on ‘big’ topic while keeping all of the small details of life in the ‘back burner’ of the mind. Furthermore, pausing to attend to the minor issue need not compromise one’s focus on the more important situation. Both undertakings can be pursued with vigor without imperiling each other. Therefore, recovering the lost items was not a conflict to the major challenge that faced Yaakov.

There are people who become totally engrossed in their careers. Most often, the greater a person’s success, the more all-encompassing the involvement will be with his or her work. (Lehavdil) This is true of Torah scholarship as well. It is normally the most outstanding of Torah scholars who possess the most intense drive to continuously study the Torah.

What of a person’s other obligations? At times, that intense pursuit of career or studies may cause one to disregard those other responsibilities. The duties neglected may include anything from the attention to one’s family and friends to concern for personal health.

One must learn from the response of Yaakov that a deep commitment to career or to a cause need not interfere with other “less critical” responsibilities. One can be totally absorbed in the world’s most important emergency while remaining in touch with the smallest nuances of his other responsibilities. If one’s major undertakings become the reason for neglect of spouse, family or other of life’s details, it is a violation of the Torah perspective on the proper way to balance one’s life. People are capable of maintaining focus upon even the smallest details of life while pursuing greater causes without compromising either.


Without quoting the source text of this Dvar, Rabbi Dovid Leibowitz z”l (1889-1941 – the Rebbe of the author’s Rebbe) once made an observation about Napoleon I, emperor of France that reflects this idea. Napoleon was surely one of the most remarkable personalities of world history. He was the undisputed political ruler of his country and a master of palace intrigue. He was also one of the greatest battlefield generals of all time. He was also a great thinker. His Napoleonic Code was a visionary masterpiece; it reorganized the government of France into a structure that is, to this day, largely intact. The code’s ideas of equality before the law and freedom of religion were revolutionary for those times. The code was largely responsible for dramatically transforming a thousand years of the political thinking of European civilization.

Individuals may attain greatness in one field. But how often do even the most brilliant and successful people change professions, and attain comparable distinction in a second and completely different career? Napoleon was not only sequentially preeminent in several very different endeavors, he pursued them simultaneously. How did he do it?

Rabbi Liebowitz remarked that Napoleon likely possessed a trait that all people should attempt to emulate. When, for example, he dealt with warfare, the entire universe of his intellect was focused on that subject alone, and his many different careers did not in any way interfere with his concentration. Yet, despite riveting his mind on combat, he simultaneously maintained a focus all of the details of his many other involvements in the back of his mind. This was necessary to avoid having his activities conflict with each other and to be aware of when his attentions had to be diverted to another area.

Similarly, Yaakov (lehavdil) was focused on both the mortal threat facing him and on other issues as well. Furthermore, Yaakov didn’t only keep two or more highly important endeavors in mind. Though involved with a most crucial matter of life and death, Yaakov still did not lose sight of even the smallest details of his other responsibilities.


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(This Dvar Torah was adapted from Rabbi Ganz’s volume on Sefer Bereishit, “Defining Humanity.”)

To help defray the cost (in time) of its production, and as a way of supporting our Jewish outreach organization in Cambridge, we are asking people to consider sponsoring this weekly email Dvar Torah. It is a meaningful way to note an occasion such as a graduation, birthday, anniversary, yahrzeit, etc.The “cost” is $120, but amounts greater than $120 will of course be gladly accepted. The sponsorship will be noted in the Dvar. Thank you in advance!(Should the situation arise, we consider it acceptable to have more than one sponsor per Dvar. If you would like to be sole sponsor, please let us know.)

JHI Dvar Torah on Parshat Vayetze

PARSHAT VAYETZE – WEILDING INFLUENCE


Yaakov (Jacob) fled from his parents’ home in Israel because his brother Eisav (Essau) was plotting to kill him. Following the advice of his parents, he took up residence in Haran at the house of his uncle, Lavan (Parshat Vayetze 28:7), whose daughters (Leah and Rachel) he then married. Yaakov eventually became the father of a large family. After twenty years had passed, Lavan’s sons suddenly became openly hostile to Yaakov. This indicated to Yaakov that he was suddenly less welcome at Lavan’s home and that it was therefore advisable to return to Israel. Hashem (G-d) then appeared to Yaakov and instructed him to return to his homeland.

Yaakov then called his wives together and discussed with them why it seemed like an appropriate time for them all to leave. He then later mentioned to them that Hashem had also commanded him to return home.

The way that Yaakov presented his arguments seems peculiar. Why didn’t he simply relate that Hashem had specifically commanded them to leave Haran for Israel? Surely, that would have elicited their wholehearted cooperation – they surely would not have disobeyed Hashem’s overt command.

The Commentary of the Ralbag (by Rabbi Levi ben Gershon, 1288–1344) deals with this question. He explains that if someone is seeking to influence family members to act or act in a given manner (as Yaakov was), it is inadvisable to compel them. Rather, one should endeavor to bring them to the point of independently deciding the same. That was why Yaakov first dialogued with his wives. It was to get them to independently arrive at what he already decided. Only then, to yet further deepen their commitment to the plan, Yaakov added that Hashem had commanded them to leave.

This is saying that coercion is not the most effective method for influencing others — even where force is available. Rather, it is preferable to bring people to the point where they will arrive at a hoped-for decision on their own. When this occurs, the conclusion and commitment to that conclusion is more profound. Yaakov therefore first spoke to his wives about why he thought it best to depart, hoping that they themselves would choose to depart. It was only afterward, in order to further strengthen their commitment to his plan, that Yaakov added that this was also Hashem’s explicit command.

These words of the Ralbag require further elucidation. Every period of Jewish history is replete with examples of righteous Jews hastening to fulfill every commandment of the Torah. Yaakov’s wives were the mothers of the Jewish Nation. They attained prophecy, and they were no doubt supremely righteous and G-d fearing. Seemingly, to for such sanctified individuals, there is no higher imperative than obeying the specifically stated Word of Hashem. Seemingly, their commitment to Hashem’s Command would know no bounds. Every fiber of their beings, conscious and subconscious, would be dedicated to the task. Why then wasn’t it enough for Yaakov to simply relate that Hashem had commanded them to leave?

An unavoidable circumstance of humanity is that every individual has a distinct disposition and leaning. Furthermore, however spiritual one may be, his or her inclination will not always necessarily be one and the same as that of Hashem. When one has a ‘built in’ difficulty with performing a given action, a certain internal hesitancy can arise. This remains true even if when ‘holy people’ are complying with the stated dictate of Hashem.

Yaakov recognized that his wives might have harbored an inner trace of resistance to leaving their family and homeland. He therefore initially avoided mention of Hashem’s command. Yaakov knew that they would certainly never overtly disobey Hashem’s Order. Yet, Yaakov recognized the additional devotion that Rachel’s and Leah would have had to their own autonomous determination…It would have even exceeded their commitment to an outright directive of Hashem that ran contrary to their personal inclinations. Even in this type of situation, an independently formed conclusion remains preferable to a state of consent gained through external pressure. It becomes the change of heart to which one is most deeply committed.

Daily living includes frequent conflicts of wills. The concept of the Ralbag has obvious application to the conduct of these struggles. Parents and children, employers and employees, co-workers, siblings, friends, and spouses are always attempting to influence each other’s thinking. The Ralbag teaches that getting the other person to decide “my way” on his or her own accord is far more effective than “Please do this because I asked you to.”

Speaking anecdotally, a cardiologist recently remarked that most of his patients need to make significant lifestyle changes (i.e. diet and exercise) to increase their chances of recovery, Yet, the doctor said that only one in seven of them end up actually making the changes. Based on the Ralbag, a more effective approach might be to hand the patients articles with statistics on the relationship between lifestyle and cardiovascular health. Then, if they opt on their own for a healthier way of living, their decisions would be more likely to endure.

Another particular scenario comes to mind. A very critical period in one’s development is that of adolescence and early twenties. People then make seminal decisions on school, career and marriage — choices that will profoundly impact upon the direction of their lives. Parents, relatives, or rabbis often become heavy-handed “advice givers” who overwhelm these young people with what they assume to be the correct choices. (A common rationalization for this intrusion is that the young people are unprepared to decide alone on these weighty matters.)

The Ralbag indicates that the matter will likely not be best resolved by external pressure – even if it is in the form of absolutely correct advice. The young person will only be truly committed to decisions that are arrived at autonomously. The most powerful influence one can wield is to somehow bring that other person to correctly decide the issue — independently.

An interesting corollary to this application is that pressuring the young individual toward a given decision might not only fail to accomplish its goal, but it can be a recipe for future failure. This is because real success in marriage and career, even under ideal circumstances, is never automatic. Herculean exertions are often necessary to triumph over the difficulties that these areas present. Realizing this triumph will be incomparably more daunting for one who never fully embraced the choice of what the specific challenges would be.



(This Dvar Torah was adapted from Rabbi Ganz’s volume on Sefer Bereishit, “Defining Humanity.”)

To help defray the cost (in time) of its production, and as a way of supporting our Jewish outreach organization in Cambridge, we are asking people to consider sponsoring this weekly email Dvar Torah. It is a meaningful way to note an occasion such as a graduation, birthday, anniversary, yahrzeit, etc.The “cost” is $120, but amounts greater than $120 will of course be gladly accepted. The sponsorship will be noted in the Dvar. Thank you in advance!(Should the situation arise, we consider it acceptable to have more than one sponsor per Dvar. If you would like to be sole sponsor, please let us know.

JHI Dvar Torah on Parshat Toldot

PARSHAT TOLDOT – HUMAN NEEDS


Rivkah (Rebecca) and Yitzchak (Isaac) were in a childless marriage for 20 years until finally, Rivkah became pregnant with twins. The pregnancy, however, was unusually difficult. Rivkah sought out prophetic explanation for what she was experiencing. Rivkah was told that she was carrying twins, Yaakov and Eisav, from whom two great nations would arise. The difficulty of the pregnancy was due to the fact that even in utero, they were already struggling with each other (Commentary of Ramban).

Quoting the Talmud (Berachot 57b), Rashi’s commentary adds that the prophecy also identified two extremely prominent members of those nations who would later coexist - Rabbi Yehudah Hanasi and Antoninus. R. Yehudah Hanasi (usually referred to as Rebbe) was a descendant of Yaakov and the compiler of the Mishnah; Antoninus, a descendant of Eisav, was a Roman ruler. Both individuals were extraordinarily wealthy. A sign of their wealth was the fact that their tables were always graced by out-of-season produce, a luxury then available to only the most affluent. This indicates that Rebbe spent a large amount of money on the meals served in his home.

The Talmud (Berachot 104a) writes of Rebbe that he did not partake of his wealth more than was absolutely necessary. When dying, he raised his fingers, stating that he did not have (any unnecessary) benefit from this world — even to the extent of the profit earned through working with one finger only. Several commentaries therefore ask, how could the Talmud write that Rebbe lived in great opulence? Did it not also write that Rebbe only partook of bare necessities?

The Commentary of the Taz (by Rabbi Dovid ben Shmuel Halevi, author of the Taz on Shulchan Aruch, d. 1667) on Rashi answers that both statements are true. Rebbe never indulged himself with even one extra penny’s worth of luxury. However, due to his great affluence, his opulent lifestyle was a necessity without which Rebbe could not function optimally. It was only relative to others that Rebbe lived immoderately. However, with regard to his own requirements, he partook of only the bare necessities.

Many are aware of the Talmudic dictum “He who has one hundred desires two hundred” (Midrash Rabbah, Koheles 1:13). Man can never achieve satisfaction from material possessions; whatever one obtains fosters the desire for twice that amount. Satisfying one’s desires in search of contentment is therefore pointless, for self-indulgence will only create the desire for yet greater indulgences (see chapter 14). Yet the Talmud’s treatment of Rebbe seems to sanction a most opulent lifestyle. This is evident from the fact that Rebbe’s “indulgences” were not criticized by the Talmud. How can this be understood?

In truth, it is a lust for ever more possessions which cannot be satisfied. However, each person has a threshold of personal need. Rebbe required this quality of lifestyle; due to his circumstances, he could not eat comfortably from a less lavish table. Rebbe, who descended from King David, was the ruling Prince of the Jews, whose immediate forefathers also held the same office. Rebbe was therefore likely raised in a very wealthy home. Although Rebbe’s expenditures were exorbitant relative to others, for him given the context of his life and his position, it was necessity rather than self-indulgence that inspired the consumption. His lifestyle was a result of a carefully analyzed conclusion based on his understanding of Torah guidelines and ethics rather than on his personal and unrestrained desires and needs. Hnce, it would have been wrong for Rebbe not to satisfy those needs; and fulfilling them did not create the need for more and more.

The words of the Taz also illustrate the enormous variance of human material needs. Rebbe’s lifestyle was indeed out of reach to all but the world’s most affluent. However, tit was what he personally required, due to his station and wealth. If his table were more modest, it would have been a deprivation of his appropriate needs. Rebbe partook of only what was necessary for him and not one iota more.

A given human indulgence cannot be unilaterally deemed as either a necessity or a luxury; what constitutes need is a highly subjective consideration. What is an outrageous extravagance to most of the world may in fact be a justifiable imperative to some. Rebbe (like Antoninus) expended as much on his own material consumption as perhaps anyone else alive at that time. To those who observed him from afar, he might have seemed like the archetype of wasteful consumption. Nevertheless, Rebbe became the Talmud’s model of one who subsisted for an entire lifetime on bare necessities.

This concept gives additional impetus to observe the Talmudic dictum (Avot 1:10) “Judge all people meritoriously [always give others the benefit of the doubt].” One type of being judgmental occurs when one points a finger at others, accusing them of extravagance. The Taz teaches that the enormous disparity between the needs of different individuals might be lost on these ‘finger pointers.’ Rebbe’s example demonstrates that one can be living in the world’s most sumptuous manner while at the same time being the Torah’s eternal paradigm of one who subsists on bare necessities alone.

The point should also be made that Rebbe never lost sight of the absolute definition of what his needs were and what they were not. Despite the outlay of tremendous sums to satisfy his needs, Rebbe scrupulously avoided even the slightest unwarranted expense. If, in modern denominations, three hundred dollars was needed for his every breakfast, he made certain that $301 was not spent. That extra dollar was an excess that Rebbe avoided throughout his lifetime.

In the ethical system of the Torah, it is accepted that major and ongoing expenditures of money might be required by some individuals to provide for their ‘needs’ – but only for needs and not for uncalled for indulgences. Furthermore, when it comes to unjustified spending, ideally, even overspending the smallest amounts should be avoided — as per Rebbe’s example. Notwithstanding his enormous affluence, Rebbe did not ever spend even a “small finger’s worth” more than necessary.


(This Dvar Torah was adapted from Rabbi Ganz’s volume on Sefer Bereishit, “Defining Humanity.”)


To help defray the cost (in time) of its production, and as a way of supporting our Jewish outreach organization in Cambridge, we are asking people to consider sponsoring this weekly email Dvar Torah. It is a meaningful way to note an occasion such as a graduation, birthday, anniversary, yahrzeit, etc.
The “cost” is $120, but amounts greater than $120 will of course be gladly accepted. The sponsorship will be noted in the Dvar. Thank you in advance!(Should the situation arise, we consider it acceptable to have more than one sponsor per Dvar. If you would like to be sole sponsor, please let us know.)

JHI Dvar Torah on Parshat Chaye Sarah

REGRETABLE REGRETS

The end of the previous week’s Parsha describes the ‘almost sacrifice’ of Yitzchak (Isaac). Parshat Chayeh Sarah begins with a description of the death of Sarah and her burial. Why were the two incidents juxtaposed? It was because the first events led to the second ones. Sarah heard that her son Yitzchak was brought by his father Avraham (Abraham) upon an alter as a sacrifice to G-d. This caused an instant reaction of profound sadness. Sarah was then told that an angel intervened at the last moment and that Yitzchak was alive and well. The sudden and massive emotional ‘down and up’ was so intense that Sarah died as a result (Commentary of Rashi, Parshat Chaye Sarah 23:3).

The Torah writes that after eulogizing Sarah, Avraham (Abraham), “Rose from before his dead one” (Parshat Chyeh Sarah, ibid.). The meaning of these words is unclear. In what way did he ‘rise,’ and why was it significant? The Midrash (Midrash Rabbah, Chayeh Sarah 23:6) explains that the Torah is alluding to an unusual event that occurred at that moment. Avraham saw the Angel of Death hovering over Sarah. For that reason, he quickly took leave of Sarah’s body and proceeded to the next step of the process which was to acquire Sarah’s burial plot.

The Midrash itself, however, requires explanation. Why is it important to know that Avraham saw the Angel of Death and that he therefore went elsewhere? (Presumably, anyone seeing that dreaded angel would attempt to do the same.)

The Commentary of the Matnat Kehunah explains the meaning of the Midrash. The Angel of Death was not there on its ‘usual business’, which would have been to end Avaraham’s life. Rather, the angel came to convince Avraham that he had erred in proceeding with the sacrifice. Its proof was that, as a result, Sarah died. Had Avraham not attempted to sacrifice Yitzchak, Sarah would have still been alive. Avraham was being enticed to regret the great act he had done. Rather than engaging in dialogue with the angel, Avraham, “Rose from before his dead one.”


The issue of how people should relate to ‘deeds gone by’ - actions already performed - is an important study. Teshuva (repentance), which is so basic to Judaism, is all about reexamining past deeds in order to improve upon them in the future. Yet, it is also true that at times, fretting and wallowing in guilt about that which has already taken place is counterproductive. When focusing on past mistakes leads to improving one’s future conduct, it is then a praiseworthy exercise in teshuva. But pointless angst over past actions that cannot be undone should be avoided. (At times, it is difficult to ascertain whether one’s focus on the past is wholesome or not. That, however, is a separate topic.)

Very possibly, the most harmful and lamentable form of regret is that which focuses on mitzvot (commandments of the Torah) and good deeds that were already performed. A mitzvah done is like an accumulated treasure. It yields enormous rewards in this world and the next. Yet, in the 11th chapter of the great work Orchot Tzaddikim (probably 13th century – author unknown) we find that regretting having done a Mitzvah causes the forfeiture of its reward. It is akin to throwing away one’s treasure.

There is also another loss that one sustains when feeling sorry for having performed a mitzvah. The Vilna Gaon (1720-1797) taught that when a person does a mitzvah, a sacred and heavenly spirit descends upon his or her soul and calls for a further performance of good. That Holy Spirit remains unsated until additional good deeds are performed. Conversely, upon sinning, a profane and evil spirit envelops the soul and calls for further sinning. The greater the good or evil performed, the greater the resultant urge for a repeat of the mitzvah or transgression (Even Shlaima 7:6). Regretting past mitzvot presumably neutralizes this spiritual force that would have otherwise led to a life of greater refinement and holiness.

This explains why the Angel of Death appeared to Avraham at this time. The merit accumulated by Avraham through this act was incalculable. To this day, we Jews invoke the memory of the sacrifice of Isaac in our daily prayers, as we ask for G-d’s mercy. Throughout the High Holy Day period, we repeatedly mention the merit of this great act to help tip the Scales of Judgment in our favor. The Angel of Death was seeking to have Avraham feel badly about his attempted sacrifice of Yitzchak. This would have cancelled much, if not all, of the merit earned.

It is nevertheless hard to understand how the angel could have gotten Avraham to regret what he had done. In part, people worry about their past actions because it is often difficult to be absolutely sure that one acted properly. For example, “Did I…honor my parents correctly - apply myself sufficiently in school - study enough Torah last month? Are the religious beliefs that I have espoused correct? Am I raising my children properly?” In Avraham’s case, he sacrificed Yitzchak because of a specifically enunciated command of The Almighty. Furthermore, the rectitude of his actions was later doubly confirmed. After being stopped at the last moment from actually killing Yitzchak, an angel miraculously called out several praises and blessings that Avraham had earned through his faithful devotion to G-d’s command (Parshat Vayerah 22:12, 16, 17, 18). Why then would Avraham ever feel badly about his attempt to sacrifice Yitzchak? Clearly, it was the proper thing to do.

This teaches a valuable human insight. To a greater or lesser extent (depending on the person), all of us are born with a tendency to regret our past actions for reasons that are totally disconnected from objective reality. Even the most refined, intelligent, learned and psychologically robust of individuals (i.e. Avraham) could fall prey to second-guessing praiseworthy deeds for reasons that are totally ungrounded. Left unchecked, this predisposition could develop into a powerful psychic ‘downer’ that can itself give rise to a host of other secondary problems – psychological, social, and even physical.

Unfounded and anxiety-produced regrets can also undermine one’s spiritual being. Regretting mitzvot already performed can rob one of the Eternity that was already earned through those actions. It furthermore diminishes the sacred yearning of the human soul for a more exalted existence. People should therefore always recognize and remember the greatness and merit inherent in the mitzvot and good deeds that they have already performed.



To help defray the cost (in time) of its production, and as a way of supporting our Jewish outreach organization in Cambridge, we are asking people to consider sponsoring this weekly email Dvar Torah. It is a meaningful way to note an occasion such as a graduation, birthday, anniversary, yahrzeit, etc.
The “cost” is $120, but amounts greater than $120 will of course be gladly accepted. The sponsorship will be noted in the Dvar. Thank you in advance!(Should the situation arise, we consider it acceptable to have more than one sponsor per Dvar. If you would like to be sole sponsor, please let us know.)

JHI Dvar Torah on Parshat Vayerah

This week's Dvar Torah was sponsored by Debra Wekstein and David Kravitz in honor of their 10th anniversary.


PARSHAT VAYERA – MARITAL BLISS

Parshat Vayerah describes how, after many years of a childless marriage, Avraham (Abraham) and Sarah were blessed with their son Yitzchak (Isaac). The Torah portion read on the first day of Rosh Hashana begins with the sentence, “And The Almighty remembered Sarah as He said” (that she would conceive – Rashi, Parshat Vayerah 21:1).

At the time of this event, Avraham was 99 years old and Sarah was 90. When Hashem (G-d) first informed Sarah that she would become pregnant, she reacted by saying, “After I have withered would I again have delicate skin? And (also) my husband is old” (ibid. 18:12). She was saying that both she and her husband were beyond the age of natural conception.

Hashem later related to Avraham that Sarah said, “Can I truly give birth as I am old” (ibid. 1:13)?
The Commentary of Rashi points out that when speaking to Avraham, Hashem altered what Sarah actually said. Sarah said that both she and her husband were old. Yet, when relating Sarah’s words Hashem only revealed that she said “I am old.” Rashi explains that the purpose of this omission was to maintain peace between the couple. It was to spare Avraham the awareness that his wife referred to him as “old.”

Avraham is often referred to in the Torah as the exemplar of kindness to others. He had to have been that way in every area of his life because genuinely praiseworthy traits must be practiced outwardly and internally. He was not only kind and loving when in the public eye, he was that way at home, both with his wife and with household members. Sarah was an equally outstanding person. Rashi in Parshat Vayerah (21:12) mentions that her level of prophecy exceeded that of her husband. The Talmud (Megilla 15a) also writes that she was one of the four most beautiful women who ever lived. Avraham and Sarah’s marriage was therefore no doubt exceptional and rock solid. It was the product of two selfless, loving, kind, intelligent and spiritual individuals. If the quality of a marriage were graded on a 1 to 100 scale, their marriage would likely score 110.

The Almighty nevertheless amended Sarah’s actual words in the interests of their marital bliss. Why would knowing that his wife referred to both of them as being old have affected their marriage? Avraham was then 99. He was old! And he knew it! If anything, hearing that Sarah spoke these words would have made a slight and almost indiscernible difference in their marital happiness. Perhaps it might translate into a tiny fraction of one point on the 1-100 scale.

This demonstrates the Torah’s standard for marital bliss is exceptionally lofty. And if this almost sublime level of bliss is compromised to an even infinitesimal degree, it is considered a very serious matter. The Almighty took the unusual measure of compromising His Standard of Truth to prevent this minute diminution in their bliss from occurring. It isn’t enough to merely work toward a ‘decent’ marriage – or a ‘good’ marriage – or even a ‘great’ marriage. The Torah calls upon people to strive for the most perfect marriage possible - like that of Avraham.

. . . .

When hearing this and other such lofty ethical Torah thoughts, people might react by saying, “This is totally irrelevant to my situation. My marriage is very far from perfect; the struggle I face is to keep it intact. Why should it matter to me if the Torah wants my marriage to be like Avraham’s? Such lofty notions of what marriage should be do not relate to people with marriages like mine.”

The story of Noach (Noah) contains another example of this general concept. After describing the depravity of the generation that would later be inundated by the Flood, the last sentence in Parshat Bereishit writes that, “Noach found favor in the Eyes of G-d.” The Commentary of Sforno explains that Noach’s merit was only partial. It was sufficient to save himself and his immediate family, but it could not save others. Noach had a failing. Although he rebuked the members of his age over their sins, Noach did not teach them about the Lofty Ways of G-d so that they would know Him. Noach therefore did not have the merit to save others.

Why would the sinners of that era care about “The Ways of G-d?” How would speaking of such spiritual and sublime values impact upon such depraved wrongdoers?

The author’s Rebbe (primary teacher of Torah), Rabbi A. H. Liebowitz explained that that all people, even those most involved in sin, have a G-dly soul. Despite a lifetime of malfeasance, the exalted soul pulsates within man and calls out for a comparably exalted lifestyle. When someone speaks of G-dly and dignified behavior, there is a receptivity within the soul. For this reason, had Noach spoken more of G-d’s Ways and not just about abstaining from sin, some of the terrible sinners of that age might have been affected favorably and Noach’s merit would have been greater.

The same principle applies to marriage. It helps all people to be aware that the Torah’s basic imperative is to have the most ideal marriage imaginable. Once that lofty ethic interfaces with the soul, it can motivate an upgrade of the quality of every marriage on every level.

[It should however be noted that not all marriages should be worked at. The Torah contains a provision for divorce. This indicates that some marriages should be terminated.]




To help defray the cost (in time) of its production, and as a way of supporting our Jewish outreach organization in Cambridge, we are asking people to consider sponsoring this weekly email Dvar Torah. It is a meaningful way to note an occasion such as a graduation, birthday, anniversary, yahrzeit, etc.
The “cost” is $120, but amounts greater than $120 will of course be gladly accepted. The sponsorship will be noted in the Dvar. Thank you in advance!(Should the situation arise, we consider it acceptable to have more than one sponsor per Dvar. If you would like to be sole sponsor, please let us know.)

JHI Dvar Torah on Parshat Lech Lecha

This Dvar Torah was sponsored by Philippe Bloch, Jonathan Cohen and Bradley Saenger to express their hakarot hatov to Rabbi Ganz for teaching them Sefer Chesbon Hanefesh in a weekly class that lasted over a year at the Young Israel of Brookline. Parshat Lech Lecha is also the anniversary of Philippe's bar mitzvah.



PARSHAT LECH LECHA - HOW TO BE ADMIRED AND LOVED

Parshat Lech Lecha begins with a momentous revelation to Avraham (Abraham). The Almighty commanded him to take leave of the land where he always lived and to move permanently to the Land of Israel. G-d then enumerated several blessings that would accrue to Avraham as a result of his move.

One of the blessings bestowed was that, “In you will be blessed all of the nations of the world” (Parshat Lech Lecha 12:3). When read alone and without commentary, these words are hard to understand. What is being said? What is meant by, “In you will be blessed…?” The Commentary of Rashi (ibid.) explains that the text is saying that when a person comes to bless his son, he will say, “May you be like Avraham.”

Hashem (G-d) was bestowing a comprehensive blessing upon Avraham. This, however, can be a complicated and (for humans, a) tongue-tying experience. To illustrate with an example from the mundane let us imagine a small town high school basketball star who was going off to a college with a nationally famous basketball team. The local coach, who had worked for years with his star player, wanted to wish him much success. He might have therefore said, “I hope that you will develop into a great team player and a great defensive player with terrific shot-blocking, rebounding, and ball-stealing skills. In addition, I hope that you will become an outstanding offensive player, a great ball-handler, passer, outside shooter, and inside shooter.” These are clumsy and very long-winded best wishes.

A more concise and elegant way to make the same point would be to simply say, “I hope that you will develop into the next Michael Jordan.” Because Michael Jordan was one of the greatest players of all time, he is the paradigm of an expert basketball player.

Rashi’s words can now be understood. The Almighty’s actual blessing was that instead of attempting to bless their children in a long and complicated fashion, all people, Jew and Gentile alike, will simply say, “May you be like Avraham.” This is how people will bless their children. In order to evoke this blessing , Avraham would, by necessity, be so outstanding a person that he would embody and represent the aspirations of all people for their own beloved children. This was the essence of Hashem’s blessing. It was G-ds way of expressing the Avraham would become the kind of person who would command this respect and admiration from all who came in contact with him.


When further contemplating these words of Rashi, a most interesting observation emerges. It is easy to see why a Torah-observant Jew would desire a child like Avraham. Avraham was the great forefather whose merit Jews still invoke in their daily prayers 3,700 years after passing. But would a unobservant Jew desire a child like Avraham? Seemingly, when Jews chose a different lifestyle and are successful at what they do, they aspire for their children to be like them. Happy and highly regarded professionals or businesspersons would therefore likely encourage their children to pursue similar careers. Experientially, Jewish outreach workers report that many secular Jewish parents strongly object when their children chose a more observant lifestyle. How then can it be said that these people would want their children to be like Avraham?

What makes this even harder to understand is that the blessing was that all peoples would desire children like Avraham – even Gentiles. This is indicated by the words of the Bible itself: “In you will be blessed all of the nations of the world.” According to Rashi, this means that people from all nations will bless their children by wishing that they will be like Avraham. However difficult it is to explain why non-observant Jews would want ‘Avrahams’ for children, it is even harder to imagine that this could be true of Gentile parents.


In Pirkei Avot 2:1 it is written, “All of your actions are written in a book.” The explanation of many commentators is simply that G-d records all human actions, and they are before Him. One of the classical commentators (the author does not remember which one and does not have access to a library at the moment of this writing) explains this to mean that one’s actions are etched into one’s own heart, i.e. one’s personality. This is not an esoteric concept. In fact, the face of a G-dless person who lives a depraved life is very different from that of one who is honest with money, faithful to spouse and family and who attends regular religious services. The latter has a certain ‘glow’ or wholesomeness of appearance that the former will never have and will never be able to imitate.

Just as a wholesome lifestyle leads to a wholesome countenance, a ‘super-wholesome’ or sanctified lifestyle begets an ever greater aura of appearance. The author had the privilege of speaking on a number of occasions with Rabbi Moshe Feinstein, of blessed memory, who died in 1986. Rabbi Feinstein was considered by many Torah observing Jews to be the preeminent Torah scholar of his time. He radiated extreme friendliness and kindness toward all humans, humility, knowledge of Torah, and fear of G-d - all at the same time. One was irresistibly drawn to him with feelings of love, admiration, and a certain measure of awe. One can only imagine that Avraham evoked the same response from others – but infinitely more so.

In all likelihood, anyone who knew Rabbi Feinstein personally would want the same for their own child, irrespective of their own lifestyle. In fact, it would have been almost impossible to NOT wish the same for one’s own child.

This explains the words of Rashi. Avraham was blessed by G-d that he would be consummately refined, accomplished, and sanctified. As a result, all human beings who knew him personally, Jew and Gentile alike, would bless their own progeny that they turn out that way.


The extent to which people pursue the sincere and wholesome observance and study of Torah and fear of G-d will correlate directly to the extent that their personalities are truly respected, admired, and loved by all people of the world.


These ideas also say a great deal about what the Torah considers to be a ‘holy man.’ One often hears descriptions of ascetic ‘holy people’ who deny themselves earthly pleasures and spend their time communicating with The Almighty. Many would likely react to such types by thinking, “They may indeed be truly holy. But I would not be pleased if my child ended up that way.”

The Torah is teaching that the sign of truly sanctified individuals is when ALL people respond when meeting them by thinking, “I wish that my own beloved children would turn out that way.” And to repeat, ALL PEOPLE includes observant and non-observant Jews and Gentiles as well.

JHI Dvar Torah on Parshat Noach

This Dvar Torah was sponsored by Dr. David Broniatowski in commemoration of the 26th Yahrzeit of his grandfather Chaim Andre Broniatowski, which was on the 2nd of Tishrei.



PARSHAT NOACH – PEACE AND BROTHRHOOD

Parshat Noach describes the downfall of two different civilizations. The Bible (Parshat Noach, 6:11-12) relates that the people of Noach’s time were destroyed because robbery and ‘sins of the flesh’ were pervasive. As a result, G-d obliterated the entire generation in the Great Flood. Only Noach, his wife and children, and representatives from the animal kingdom survived aboard the ark that Noach built. The second civilization that colapsed was the society that built the Tower of Babel. They set out to build “A tower with its top in the heavens” (ibid. 11:4). The Commentary of Abarbanel explains that those people understood the rudiments of gravity. Being idolatrous, they thought that G–d was a finite being that resided in the heavens. They therefore assumed that if they could build a tower high enough, they could use it to escape gravity and jump off into space to do physical battle with The Almighty. Though the plan could have never succeeded, its intention to destroy The Divinity was nonetheless sinful. That generation was first a single unified entity. G-d’s punishment was to scatter them across the face of the earth.

The Commentary of Rashi (ibid. 11:9) raises a question. We often assume that those who lived in Noach’s time were the most evil people who ever walked the face of the Earth. Yet, the sin of the second group was seemingly far more serious. They sought to destroy The Divinity Itself. Why then was their punishment less severe than that of Noach’s era? Rashi explains that quarrelling and discord was rampant in the time of Noach. This is evident from the fact that they were stealing from each other. However, there was love and brotherhood among those who set out to build the Tower. Rashi concludes that this teaches that, “(before G-d) Quarrelling is detested and peace is great” (ibid.).

To more fully appreciate the words of Rashi, it would be helpful to first consider the following theoretical question. When a normally praiseworthy character trait is utilized to facilitate wrongdoing, should that trait be viewed (A) as something good that was unfortunately diverted to the service of wickedness, or (B) something that is entirely immoral? For example, we normally praise the trait of alacrity. As the Talmud writes, “Those who move quickly will be first in the performance of Mitzvot” (Tractate Pesachim, 4a). Consider, though, an example of a Nazi guard that pursued his mass murder with great diligence. Can this alacrity be disassociated from its context and be viewed in a positive light, or is it altogether evil?

The Midrash Rabbah (a Talmudic work) at the beginning of Parshat Pikudei in the Book of Shemot sheds light on this issue as it pertains to the trait of being generous with money. The Midrash (51:6) discusses the case of a wealthy but profligate young man who gave generously to support lewd and depraved theatre productions. Unexpectedly, he changed course and gave money to support Torah education. He then reverted to his former self and resumed his support of decadence. The Midrash (as explained by the Commentary of the Etz Yosef) indicates that the young man’s giving to the two very different types of causes emanated from two entirely different facets of his personality. In other words, there was not one trait of generosity with money that was common to both acts of giving. Rather, the financial support for licentiousness stemmed from his proclivity to depravity. The donation to support Torah, however, stemmed from his neshama - the sacred and G-dly soul. Accordingly, being generous to one of these two causes does not predispose one to support the other. Both activities involved the act of giving however they eminated from two entirely different character traits.

It would seem that the same concept probably applies to the case of the Nazi guard. His trait of diligence when killing people is a component of the profane act of killing. This trait is altogether different from the diligence that is required for a sacred task (lehavdil) such as studying Torah. Hence, alacrity when killing would not predispose one to alacrity when studying Torah or doing other good deeds - and visa-versa.

Rashi’s words now take on a deeper meaning. The people who built the Tower acted with brotherhood toward each other. But in truth, it was that very camaraderie that enabled them all to band together in a unified attempt to build the Tower in order to wage war against The Divinity - a wrongdoing that was deemed worse than the sin of Noach’s generation. If so, why were they rewarded for such brotherhood? This good will should have been viewed like the generosity of the young man giving money to support depravity or like the alacrity of the German when committing mass murder.

This teaches that the trait of being at peace with others occupies a special pedestal in the ethics of the Torah. It retains its sanctity and remains laudable, even when facilitating terribly nefarious activity.

An illustration of this concept can be seen in the sailing ships that are discovered hundreds of years after they sank. Almost everything will have been destroyed by the salt water, even the massive steel cannons. Gold, however, remains undamaged, despite being a very soft metal. So too, other normally fine human traits are poisoned when they enable wrongdoing. However, the ability to live in harmony and ‘shalom’ with others is so commendable that even when facilitating the worst of iniquities, it remains exemplary before G-d.

If living with good will toward others is so laudable even when associated with sin, friendship that is not associated with sin is altogether more praiseworthy. If so, according to the Torah, the ongoing ability to live in peace and good will with friends, co-workers, spouses, and family is among the most exalted ‘characteristics of the soul.’

JHI Dvar Torah for the Passover Seder

GRATTITUDE - TO G-D AND TO MAN

Maggid is the section of the Hagaddah that retells the story of our sojourn in Egypt – our slavery and subsequent redemption. In considerable detail, Maggid describes the great events of The exodus, a time when G-d demonstrated His Awesome Power for all to see. Those Revelations were unique in the history of the world, and the Torah wants Jews to never forget them. To this day, The Exodus is mentioned twice daily is our prayers, as well as in the Friday night Kiddush (benediction over wine).
At the end of Maggid, after the story has been retold, the Hagaddah continues: “Therefore it is our duty to thank, praise, honor, bless, and acclaim Him, Who performed all these miracles for our forefathers and us.”
The Commentary of the Rashbatz on the Hagaddah explains that not “thanking, praising, honoring...” The Almighty would be ungrateful. The Rashbatz is thus saying that after reliving the story of G-d’s miracles, the emotion of gratitude (or the avoidance of ingratitude) should be the primary motive for “thanking, praising, honoring...” G-d.

The subject of the different Hebrew words in our prayers and classical Torah texts that praise Hashem (G-d) is most challenging. There are probably very few people currently alive who truly understand the difference in meaning between the Hebrew words for, “praise, honor, bless, and acclaim,” as they relate to The Almighty. Seemingly, they correlate to different Aspects of The Divinity that are being lauded differently. Attempting to comprehend those Heavenly Attributes is a difficult study.
The rare individuals who understand these words are likely thoroughly conversant with every aspect of the Torah – especially the secrets of Kabala. Those rare and G-dly individuals swim in the depths of the Torah’s revealed and hidden wisdom and see The Heavenly Throne as a reality.
How would such spiritually developed people react after reading the Maggid section of the Hagaddah? Seemingly, they would wax euphoric - “praising, honoring, blessing, and acclaiming” The Almighty anew based on their deeper insights into G-d’s Greatness. Yet, the Rashbatz is teaching us that even for such exalted people, their primary motive for praising G-d after reading Maggid should be to avoid ingratitude. This principle of the Rashbatz can be better understood through the following:
Imagine a musical prodigy at the violin who earned a PHD in music from a prestigious university. Yet, despite being so over qualified, the only job the student could land was being a music teacher in an inner city public school. Sometime later, that teacher invited a world famous violinist to perform for free for the students in the public school, and the great musician acquiesced. While the performance was appreciated by all present, it was only the teacher who was fully capable of appreciating its genius.
Upon the completion of the show, the teacher was asked by the principal to respond publically to what had transpired. The instinctive reaction of the teacher would likely be to note how the violinist brilliantly interpreted and performed the music. The Rashbatz, however, is saying that the morally correct response is for the teacher to first shower the great violinist with thanks for performing at the school for free.
So too, the first response to the story of Maggid should be one of gratitude, even from one who can actually comprehend the essence of G-d’s miracles that were manifestly visible during The Exodus.
This demonstrates the supreme importance that the Torah attaches to gratitude. It is more important to say “Thank you” to The Almighty than it is to knowledgeably extol His Miraculous Greatness.
Gratitude is not only due The Almighty, but to other humans as well…and that is a never-ending obligation. Almost by definition, living among family and friends involves a constant exchange of favors and kindness. Every ‘good deed’ received begets a new obligation to be grateful. (And obviously, the greater the favors received, the greater the obligation to be grateful in kind. In fact, the commentaries explain that supreme importance the Torah attaches to parental honor (It is one of the Ten Commandments.) is due to the enormous and everlasting gratitude owed to those who gave us our lives.)
The concept of the Rashbatz is that the responsibility to act gratefully toward others is not merely componnent of some vague obligation to be a ‘nice person’ – something they teach Boy Scouts. Rather it is a religious duty of towering significance. Even if one could praise G-d’s greatness in the most knowledgeable and holiest manner, it is more important to first express one’s gratitude. We fulfill this obligation when acting with the appropriate measure of gratitude toward each other.
If people would acknowledge this ever-present moral imperative and act accordingly, our lives and our communities would be blessed with a tremendous increase of interpersonal good will.

Chag Someach

JHI Dva Torah on the Passover Haggadah

In honor of the upcoming Passover holiday, we are doing this week’s Dvar Torah on the well-known section of the Hagaddah that deals with The Four Sons.

THE PASSOVER HAGADDAH – GROUP INSTRUCTION

The Hagaddah recounts the following reactions of The Four Sons to the Passover story:

“The wise son - what does he say? ‘What are the testimonies, decrees, and ordinances which Hashem, our G-d, has commanded you?’ Therefore, explain to him the laws of the Passover offering: that, ‘One may not eat dessert after the final taste of the Passover offering’ (Talmud, Pesachim 119b)”.

“The wicked son - what does he say? ‘Of what purpose is this work to you’ (Shemot, Bo 12, 26)? He says ‘To you,’ thereby excluding himself. By excluding himself from the community of believers, he denies the basic principle of Judaism. Therefore, blunt his teeth and tell him, ‘It is because of this that Hashem (G-d) did so for me when I went out of Egypt’ (Shemot, Bo 13:8). ‘For me, but not for him - had he been there, he would not have been redeemed’.”

“The simple son - what does he say? ‘What is this?’ Tell him: ‘With a strong hand did Hashem take us out of Egypt, from the house of bondage’ (Shemot, Bo 13:14).

“As for the son who is unable to ask, you must initiate the subject for him as it is stated, ‘And you shall tell your son on that day, saying: It is because of this that Hashem did so for me when I went out of Egypt.’ (Shemot, Bo 13:8). ”

A father is retelling the story of the Exodus to his four distinctly different sons. The first three sons ask different questions, and the father initiates the dialogue with the fourth son. The father responds differently to each of the sons, based on specific sentences found in the Chumash (Bible).

The Commentary of the Ritvah explains that G-d was very eager to have each son learn about the Exodus. G-d therefore included in His Torah four different phrases on the subject that teach four separate and unique responses that are tailor-made for each type of son.

In a modern classroom setting, someone instructing this type of group would likely present a single general lesson that is directed at the center of the group. Theoretically, all of the students will acquire knowledge from the single lesson on the subject. This system, though, is far from ideal. What would result from educating all four sons on the Exodus this way?

In all likelihood, this would not serve the best interests of the insightful wise first son or the fourth son who cannot even ask a question. They are at polar opposite spectrums of the learning curve…both are far from the middle. Furthermore, when students at such widely disparate levels are hearing the same exact lecture, it will be more difficult to establish group dynamic that elicit a meaningful give-and-take – even from those in the middle range. Everyone will acquire some education, but none of them will be learning optimally.

The educational model in the Haggadah is to present four different customized approaches to the same story of the Exodus. This encourages each son to absorb and question the story at his own level, and each is responded to accordingly. This is the ideal paradigm for group instruction.

However, there are considerations that seemingly mitigate in favor of NOT responding each son individually.

1. The father is not addressing his sons privately. Rather, all are sitting together, and they hear everything the father says. Hence, the customized lesson to the fourth son affirms to all present that he is incapable of even initiating a discussion on the subject. Though true, this could possibly prove uncomfortable to the young man.

2. Educators and parenting experts typically recommend dealing with young people in a positive manner, thereby making them feel good about themselves. Relegating this forth child to the lowest rung of the scholastic ladder would seemingly poison that good feeling. Furthermore, branding the fourth son this way and branding the second son as evil might lead them to see these traits as an inescapable failing in their characters. This in turn can become a self-fulfilling prophecy. The wise son could be harmed as well, for the advanced lesson he receives signals to all that he is on a pedestal above the others. This might cause him to wax arrogant.

3. If only the middle of the group is being taught, all of the time allocated for study can be dedicated to teaching all of the sons. However, in the four-lesson system, each student will mainly benefit from only 25% of the total instruction time. The father might loose the attention of every son altogether while 75% of the time is being spent on the others.

Yet, the instruction of the Hagaddah was set up in this fashion, despite these four significant drawbacks. This further demonstrates the tremendous importance that The Almighty attaches to individualizing the study of Torah - teaching each student according to his or her own abilities.

This text also teaches that although children should be infused with a positive self-image, they must nevertheless be made aware of their limitations and potential. It is, in fact, a disservice to the third and forth sons to give them the impression that their abilities are one and the same as the wise son. Doing so can foster unrealistic hopes and consequent frustrations. Many adults suffer psychic pain because the unattainable childhood expectations of their parents left them feeling forever inadequate and unfulfilled.

The wise son as well should be made aware of his special talents. He needs to be challenged at his intellectually superior level. His academic goals must be extended beyond the middle level of the students. Finally, the evil son must be informed that his parents recognize his improper behavior and that it is unacceptable.

These ideas do not imply that a person of less than outstanding ability is doomed to a lifetime of mediocre achievement. In fact, there have been many notable instances of people of average talent who became enormously accomplished. One example from the world of Torah is that of Rabbi Naftali Tzvi Yehudah Berlin (1830-1892), who was known as the Netziv (the Prince) of Volozhin. He was a person of ordinary intellect. Yet, through extraordinary diligence and piety, he became one of the most outstanding Torah scholars of his era. He was eventually named the head what was then possibly the world’s greatest Yeshiva.

The Netziv, however, did not attain this greatness through being deluded that he was enormously gifted. Had he been convinced as a child that he fit the profile of the wise son, his achievements would have likely never been realized. Rather, the Netziv understood his limitations. So, he worked mightily, and he overcame them.

A classical debate among educators concerns whether or not schools with parallel classes should group the students by ability. Should there be separate classes for the more and less gifted students at every grade level? Rabbi Moshe Feinstein reputedly discouraged the practice because it could foster poor character traits, especially among those placed in the higher levels. Seemingly, the Ritvah’s advocacy of individualized education contradicts the logic and ruling of R. Feinstein.

A closer examination of the issue reveals that there is no conflict. The scenario of the Hagaddah is an intimate family setting where the teacher is a father who deeply loves all of his children. Under those ideal conditions, the potential downside of demarcating people by ability is minimized. The same sensitivity, however, cannot be expected in a larger and more impersonal institutional setting. What works at home will not necessarily work at school.

Educators, however, must never forget that their charges are not identical ‘blobs’ that were produced on the same factory assembly line. Each student is unique. As such, each child will do best when offered an individually tailored educational program…to whatever extent possible.