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?)