Mar 5, 2026 | Torat Devorah, Uncategorized
“I have seen this people, and behold! it is a stiff-necked people.” (22:9)
A former President of the United States once asked his Israeli counterpart how things were going. “I have many problems,” said the Israeli. Replied the American President, “You think you have problems? You are the President of 8 million people, while I am President of 180 million.” To which the Israeli President replied, “Mr. President, you are President of 180 million people. I, however, am the President of 8 million Presidents.”
The Torah itself calls the Jewish People a stiff-necked people. Sometimes this obstinacy can be for the good and sometimes for the not so good. Stubbornness can be an extremely dangerous trait, for it can foil any attempt to improve our situation. Stubbornness enters a person’s mind and blinkers him from any other possibility other the one on which he has set his mind. Thus, in the incident with the golden calf with all its severity, the Torah doesn’t focus on the sin itself, rather on the obstinacy that it revealed. A negative action can always be atoned for and repaired, whereas implacable wrong-headedness allows no place for the way of return. However, there is also a positive side to being stubborn:
Rabbi Sinclair relates the following story: In a certain concentration camp, there was one particularly sadistic Nazi officer. One day he ordered a Jew to follow him to the top of a nearby hill. He indicated a cloud of dust rising on the distant Eastern horizon. “Do you know what that is?” “No.” replied the Jew. “That is the Russian Army. In a couple of hours they will be at the gates of the camp. The war is over for you. I want you to eat this piece of ham now, or I will shoot you.” The Jew refused on the spot without batting an eyelash. And the Nazi shot him also without batting an eyelash.
Edward Gibbon in his “Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire” writes that of all the nations that Rome subjugated, the only people that clung successfully to its beliefs was the Jewish People. All Rome’s other vassal states managed to segue the Roman gods into their pantheon without batting an eyelash. The Jews, however, were prepared to make the ultimate sacrifice rather than abandon their faith. It is this intransigence, imbued in the spiritual genes of our people by our forefathers, that has preserved Jewish identity to this day.
Moshe comes down from the mountain after the Israelites had made the Golden Calf and VAYAR ET HA’EGEL UMECHOLOT, “…he saw the calf and the dances…”. (Ex. 32,19)
Then, the Torah states, his anger flared up and he shattered the Tablets of Stone. Why was he surprised when he saw the calf? Hashem had told him that they made it. Why did he bring the Tablets down or why didn’t he shatter them before? The Seforno answers this question. He says that when Moshe was told that they had made the calf he thought he would come down to them and show them their mistake and they would do Teshuva. When he saw that they were dancing and made merry with such joy, he realized that he will not be able to readily pull them away from the calf. He came to the conclusion that they were not ready for the tablets of the Ten Commandments. We often make mistakes. If, however, we do not realize our errors and continue to justify what we did then it is much harder for us to correct our ways. We must be ready to face up and recognize our wrong doing. Only then will we be able to correct our faults.
~Devorah Abenhaim
Feb 27, 2026 | Torat Devorah
When the Torah gives instructions about the building of the Mishkan, it usually uses words like “VeAsu,” “VeAsita” and “Taaseh,” which are fairly indirect commands all meaning “and make.” However, in our Parashah, different wording is used. For example, the Pesukim of “VeAtah Tetzaveh Et Bnei Yisrael VeYikchu Eilecha Shemen Zayit Zach,” “And you shall command Bnei Yisrael, and they shall take for you pure olive oil (Shemot 27:20), “VeAtah Hakrev Eilecha Et Aharon Achicha,” “And you, bring near to yourself Aharon your brother” (28:1), and “VeAtah TiDaber El Kol Chachmei Lev…VeAsu Et Bigdei Aharon,” “And you shall speak to all the wise hearted people…and they shall make the clothing of Aharon” (28:3) all use the more direct language of “VeAtah…,” “and you…”. Why does Hashem directly command Moshe regarding gathering oil for the Menorah, appointing the Kohen Gadol, and preparing the Bigdei Kehunah? What makes these tasks so important that Moshe is specified as the only one capable of performing them?
Rav Elchanan Sorotzkin says that since these three objects represent essential parts of Judaism, therefore Moshe, the leader of the Jewish people, needs to do them. The oil represents the light of Torah which is constantly bathing the world with its pure light. Just as the oil of the Menorah has to be sealed by the Kohen Gadol, a spiritual leader, to attest to its purity, so too the Torah has to be completely free of outside influences which might interfere with its purity. The Torah here is telling us that Torah learning should always be done under the supervision of a Torah leader of Bnei Yisrael.
The next commandment to personally appoint the Kohen Gadol is symbolic of the appointment of Torah leaders from generation to generation within Bnei Yisrael. Since the Torah must remain unadulterated, its leaders must remain pure as well. This is evidenced by the Kohanim Gedolim who purchased their position during the late period of the second Beit HaMikdash, causing tremendous spiritual damage. These Kohanim were not appointed by people like Moshe, but by corrupt leaders who were not dedicated to Torah values. Here the Torah is highlighting the terrible outcomes that will occur if Bnei Yisrael’s Torah leaders do not remain committed to Hashem. Therefore, Hashem by asking Moshe, His most loyal servant, to appoint the Kohen Gadol, the precedent was set of keeping the leadership pure.
The last job assigned to Moshe is the preparation of the Kohen’s clothing. Just as Korbanot atone for our sins, the clothing of a Kohen atones for us as well. If a Kohen lacks the proper clothing, he is disqualified from performing the service in the Mishkan. This emphasis on the clothing teaches us the importance of wearing the proper clothing in our lives. We have to wear the clothes that identify us as Jewish: Kippah, Tzitzit, and Tefillin. If we don’t wear these, we disqualify ourselves from being able to properly learn Torah.
This parshah also includes the commandment of remembering Amalek – the nation that needlessly attacked Bnei Yisrael in the desert. Because of the attack, Hashem commanded us to eradicate the nation of Amalek both physically and mentally. The Torah conveys that Hashem will also eliminate the memory of Amalek from the world in the Pasuk, “VaYomer Hashem El Moshe Ketov Zot Zikaron BaSeifer VeSim BeOznei Yehoshua Ki Macho Emcheh Et Zecher Amalek MiTachat HaShamayim” “Hashem said to Moshe, ‘write this in the book and relay it to Yehoshua because I will erase the memory of Amalek from under the heavens” (Shemot 17:14).
Rav Nachum Mordechai Friedman asks that if God joins us in this endeavor to forget Amalek, why has it become so difficult to defeat Amalek and other nations similar to it? He explains that it is a two-sided agreement between God and us. Hashem will erase the memory of Amalek by physically destroying the nation and other similar nations only if we, the Jewish people, destroy the internal “Amalek,” our evil inclinations and Yeitzer HaRah. Once we destroy our internal bad, God can destroy our external and physical enemies.
~Devorah Abenhaim
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Feb 20, 2026 | Torat Devorah, Uncategorized
The construction of the sanctuary – or the Mishkan – is related to us in this week’s parshah, along with all the elements that were to be placed within it. We read of the very famous statement of God to Moses: “Make me a sanctuary for me to dwell in” (Exodus 25:8). Abravanel prefaces his commentary to the Sidra with many questions, and among them the following: Why did the Almighty command us regarding the construction of the tabernacle saying ‘I shall dwell among them’ as if He were a circumscribed corporeal being limited in space, when this is the opposite of the truth? For he is nor corporeal, He is not a material force, and He has no relation to place. Of God it is said in Isaiah 66:1: “The heaven is My throne and the earth My footstool – where is the house that you may build for Me? And where is the place of my rest?”
Solomon, likewise, said the following, regarding the building of the Temple: behold, the heaven and the heaven of heavens cannot contain thee; how much less this house that I have built?” (I Kings 8:27). These are evidently statements that contradict each other. Abravanel’s response to his question (as recorded in Nechama Leibowitz ‘Studies in Exodus’) is that the Divine intention behind the construction of the tabernacle was to combat the idea that God had forsaken the earth, and that his throne was in heaven and remote from humankind. To disabuse them of this erroneous belief, He commanded them to make a tabernacle, as if to imply that He dwelt in their midst – that they should believe that God lived in their midst and His Providence was ever with them.
This is the meaning of: “And I shall dwell amidst the children of Israel”, “who dwelleth with them in their defilement.” It is all a parable and allegory representing the idea of the immanence of His Providence and Presence. He commanded the installation of the laver and its base as if to warn them to “cleanse…remove the evil of your deeds”, the altar of the burnt offering, on which to burn your corporeal desires and evil impulses. The Temple contained the table, candlestick, and the altar of incense. These vessels symbolized the ministering to the King of the Universe, not that He – heaven forbid – need any of these things. Their purpose was to implant in their souls that God walked in the midst of their camp.
The Torah tells us that the lid of the ark should be made of pure gold, and that out of the lid, those who construct it should fashion the cherubs. The Alskekh explains that as we know, the material blessings in this world comprise three elements, i.e. children (physical continuity), life and livelihood. Concerning the acquisition of the life aspect, the ark has already become a symbol to him who desires life, who devotes himself to the Torah, to secure life both in this world and in the world to come. The Torah now suggests what man should do in order to have children. After having studied Torah, his next task in life is to marry and raise a family. This family too is linked to one’s Torah study. The figures of the male and female cherub on the lid of the ark represented the union of man and wife on the basis of Torah. As the Talmud in Yevamot 63 states, he who marries, his sins are forgiven. Such a union is to be pure from sinful considerations as the purity of the gold, the kapporet – lid – is made of. The letters yud and heh in the words ish and ishah respectively, are represented symbolically by the length and width measurements of the kapporet when measured in terms of handbreadths, instead of cubits as mentioned in the Torah.
This is a reminder that God must be part of such a union in order for such a union not to go up in aysh or flames –passion burning itself out, and leaving the marriage devoid of meaning. The intent when entering into the bonds of marriage is that one’s relationship becomes a spiritual one if the couple wishes to ensure that their children will be like the cherubs and reflect the innocence and purity of their parents. When all these factors are present, the children’s faces will face the lid, and the parents need not fear that they will lose their children during their lifetime. On an interesting note, subsequent to placing the tablets into the ark, God will come to Israel. Shemot Rabbah illustrates the point: As long as a girl was merely betrothed, her fiancé would visit her daily in her father’s home. Once they had become married, the bride’s father would visit his daughter in the home of his son-in-law. Similarly here – Once the tablets were inside the Holy Ark, God would manifest himself among the Jewish People and Moses would no longer have to climb the mountain.
~Devorah Abenhaim
Feb 13, 2026 | Torat Devorah
“Six days shall you accomplish your activities, and on the seventh day you shall desist… and your maidservant’s son and the sojourner may be refreshed.” (23:12)
Possibly one of the least understood areas of Shabbat observance is amira l’akum — hinting to a non-Jew to do something for a Jew that the Jew him or herself cannot do because of Shabbat. The basic premise of this prohibition is to preserve the other-worldly quality of Shabbat, for it would be all too easy to employ a non-Jew to continue one’s weekday activities without contravening a single Torah law. In other words, you could turn Shabbat into Saturday. For example, many people assume that if the circuit breaker trips and the lights go out at the Shabbat night meal one could hint to a non-Jew to turn them on again. This is not true. Except in certain specific cases, a Jew on Shabbat may not receive any direct benefit from the melacha (forbidden Shabbat action) of a non-Jew. There are many people who would never dream of allowing a cheeseburger to cross the portals of their dwelling (let alone the portals of their lips) but would cheerfully hint to the maid to turn the lights on, on Shabbat. Ignoring this prohibition, however, can lead to dire consequences — and not just in the world-to-come.
Rabbi David Ribiat relates the following story: Around the year 1800, there was a large fire in the city of Maerkisch-Friedland. Much of the Jewish quarter was destroyed and many homes had to be rebuilt. Rabbi Akiva Eiger, the rabbi of the city, issued a proclamation advising those rebuilding their homes to stipulate in their contracts with the builders that no work should be done on Shabbat or Yom Tov. The community was united in its observance of Rabbi Akiva Eiger’s degree, with one exception. The president of the community, who was extremely wealthy, wanted his house rebuilt as quickly as possible, and instructed his workers to work non-stop through Shabbat and Yom Tov. The protestations of the community and even the Rabbi himself fell on deaf ears, and the work proceeded unabated. Shocked by this flagrant breach of Halacha, Rabbi Akiva Eiger was heard to say that he did not expect the house to last very long. Not only was the president’s house the first to be completed; it was undoubtedly the finest of the new homes.
Not long afterwards, and without any previous warning, one of the beams of the president’s mansion suddenly crashed to the ground. A subsequent investigation revealed that the beam was riddled with timber decay. Not only this, but the wooden frame of the mansion was similarly affected and the entire structure had to be demolished. A check was made of all the other re-built buildings, but not one of them showed the slightest inclination to dry rot. The engineers were at a loss to explain why only this particular house, built at the same time and from the same timber supply, was affected. The Jews of Maerkisch-Friedland, however, were in no doubt about the answer to this puzzling enigma.
~Devorah Abenhaim
Jan 30, 2026 | Torat Devorah
In this week’s parshah, the Israelites are finally freed of the long arm of Pharaoh. Prior to their freedom, they did acquire two very basic mitzvot: the brit milah – circumcision, and the Paschal sacrifice. Observance of Pesach and performance of circumcision are a statement of affiliation with G-d and Israel. Beyond basic affiliation, what’s next? How does a Jew get started on the path of Torah?
The very first place in which Israel learned new laws was in Marrah, Sinai Desert. The Torah states that there “He placed a law (chok) and a statute.” Rashi writes that the law or chok which was beyond comprehension (as indicated by the word “chok”) was the law of the red heifer, that it purifies the impure and defiles the pure. The statutes they learned were about the various laws governing civil matters, as indicated by the word “statute-mishpat.” There is also indication in the next section of the Torah that they knew about Shabbas at that time. Elsewhere, Rashi indicates that honoring the father and mother were also taught at this juncture.
What is the source for Rashi that Shabbat and honoring the parents was taught here? In the version of the Ten Commandments found in Deuteronomy, they indicate that these two laws were not new but had been taught elsewhere. Since the Torah states in our portion that some laws were taught, we deduce that the laws taught were those mentioned in the Ten Commandments as having been taught, namely honoring Shabbat and parents.
Rabbi Yehudah Amital of Yeshivat Har Etzion of Israel was once asked, “Rabbi, we want to start doing Jewish things. Where do we start?” He answered that our parasha today holds the solution. Our first step in our renewal as Jews should be to enhance our performance of basic laws, honoring the parents and other rational laws which might think are not rituals, but which are in fact mitzvot. The second thing to do is a mitzva which is irrational, such as shaatnez, not mixing linen and wool, or kashrut. The third thing to work on is adding meaning to our Shabbat, because Shabbos is at the center of what Judaism is all about.
The Torah tells us that the children of Israel went up from Egypt ‘chamushim’. (13:18).The midrash explains that the word ‘chamushim’ comes from the root “chamesh”- five.” Only one-fifth (some say 1/500 or 1/5,000) of Bnei Yisrael left Egypt. Those who were rich and did not want to leave died during the plague of darkness. Another midrash says: “Why did God appear to Moshe from a thorn bush? Because just as the thorn bush is the toughest of all trees, so the enslavement in Egypt was the toughest of all exiles.” R’ Yitzchak Arieli (author of Einayim La’mishpat) observes: It would seem from these sources that only a small fraction of Bnei Yisrael were enslaved in Egypt. However, for those who were enslaved, the enslavement was bitter indeed. Those who led a good life in Egypt did not want to leave, and, therefore, they did not merit leaving. Those who suffered in Egypt and did want to leave merited leaving. Even Datan and Aviram who had tried to get Moshe killed – after they lost their wealth [see Rashi to 4:19] and felt the pain of the exile -wanted to leave and so they merited leaving. And so it is with every exile – those who want to be redeemed merit to return to the Land of Israel.
~Devorah Abenhaim
Jan 23, 2026 | Torat Devorah
Parashat Bo describes the dramatic conclusion of the exile in Egypt and the birth of the Jewish nation. The parsha opens with the final three plagues—locusts, darkness, and the death of the firstborn—which break Pharaoh’s resistance once and for all. The plague of darkness was not merely an absence of light, but a tangible, immobilizing darkness that left the Egyptians unable to move or connect with one another, while the Jewish people continued their lives in light. This contrast highlights the difference between a society steeped in spiritual emptiness and a people guided by Divine purpose. At the center of the parsha is the commandment of the Korban Pesach. The Jewish people are instructed to take a lamb—an Egyptian deity—slaughter it, and place its blood on their doorposts. This act was not for Hashem’s sake, but for theirs: a bold, public declaration of faith and a rejection of Egyptian idolatry. Through this mitzvah, Bnei Yisrael demonstrate that true freedom requires courage, identity, and commitment to Hashem, even in the face of danger.
One of the most striking passages in Parashat Bo is Hashem’s opening command to Moshe: “Bo el Pharaoh”—“Come to Pharaoh” (Exodus 10:1). At first glance, the wording seems unusual. Hashem should have said “Lech el Pharaoh”—“Go to Pharaoh.” Why does the Torah use the word bo, which implies coming together? The Zohar offers a profound explanation: Hashem was telling Moshe, “Come with Me.” Moshe was being asked to confront not merely a human king, but the spiritual force of arrogance and oppression that Pharaoh represented. This was not a mission Moshe could undertake alone.
According to the Zohar, Pharaoh embodied the deepest spiritual blockage in the world—a concentration of impurity and ego that resisted Divine truth. By saying bo, Hashem reassured Moshe that he would not face this power independently. Hashem would enter the confrontation with him, guiding and sustaining him. This subtle shift in language teaches that when a person is called upon to confront darkness—whether external or internal—it is only possible with Divine partnership. True strength comes not from personal courage alone, but from knowing that Hashem is present within the struggle.
This insight also reframes the entire Exodus story. Redemption does not begin with physical freedom, but with the willingness to step into fear while trusting in Hashem’s closeness. Moshe’s mission becomes a model for every Jew: when facing challenges that seem overwhelming, Hashem does not simply command us to “go,” but invites us to “come”—to move forward together with Him. In this sense, Parashat Bo teaches that the path to redemption is not walked alone, but hand in hand with the Divine.
A powerful moment in Parashat Bo is the commandment of Kiddush HaChodesh, when Hashem tells Moshe and Aharon, “This month shall be for you the first of months” (Exodus 12:2). The Sfas Emes explains that this mitzvah represents the essence of freedom. In Egypt, the Jewish people had no control over their time; every moment belonged to their masters. By giving them the ability to sanctify the new month, Hashem grants them ownership over time itself. Freedom is not merely the absence of physical bondage, but the ability to infuse time with meaning and holiness. Through Kiddush HaChodesh, the Jewish people become active partners in shaping sacred time, marking the transition from slaves reacting to commands into a nation consciously living with Divine purpose.
~Devorah Abenhaim
