Jul 31, 2026 | Torat Devorah, Uncategorized
The Torah commands us to love three entities: God, our neighbor, and the “ger.” The term “ger” is usually translated to mean “convert” or “proselyte,” but it literally means “stranger.” In the context in which love of the “ger” is commanded, the Torah (Devarim 10:19) uses a play on words: “Love the ‘ger’ because you were ‘gerim’ in the land of Egypt.” Ibn Ezra (Shmot 20:1) categorizes this latter commandment in the group of commands which are given along with a simple reason which does not require extra deliberation or a sought explanation. On the simplest level, the correct translation of the term “ger” in this context would be “stranger,” for the Israelites were strangers in Egypt, not converts to Egyptian religion and society. They were, in effect, outsiders.
Rashi invokes this verse when he describes how the Jews will view Moshe’s (not Jewish) father-in-law if he travels with them in the desert (Bamidbar 10:31). Others imply that the verse does refer to converts. The midrash (Bamidbar Rabba 8:2) records the following parable in describing the plight of a “ger.” A king has flocks of sheep, but one day a gazelle comes and joins them. The gazelle goes out with them to pasture and returns with them at night. When his shepherds tell him of this gazelle, the king takes great delight in watching the gazelle, seeing that it eats, that his shepherds don’t hit it to stay in the assigned areas, that it drinks first when the animals return. They ask him, “You have thousands of sheep over which you make no fuss. So why do you care so much about this one gazelle?” The king answers, “The sheep does what it wants. It goes out and comes back in the evening to sleep, as is its nature. But a gazelle is wild and does not normally live a domesticated life in the presence of sheep or humans. Shouldn’t we give tremendous credit and special attention to this one, who gave up an expansive wilderness and life among all the wild creatures to come and live in our yard?” The midrash concludes, “Shouldn’t we also give tremendous credit to the ‘ger’ who has chosen to leave his family and his people [the nations of the world] to join our ranks? This is why we must be very sensitive so as not to harm the ‘ger’ in any way.”
For the land… is not as the land of Egypt.. where you did sow your seed, and did water it by foot, like a vegetable garden… [rather] it drinks water of the rain of heaven (11:10-11)
“Rain” represents the reciprocal relationship between heaven and earth. “A vapor rises from the earth” to the heavens, and the heavens return it as rain which “quenches the face of the land” (Genesis 2:6). This represents the spiritual truth that “an arousal from below evokes an arousal from above” — that G-d responds to the efforts of man, reciprocating our prayers, yearnings and deeds with nurture from Above.
The Chassidic masters explain that this is the doctrine of the rain-watered land. Egypt, however, was nourished not by descending rain but by the overflow of the Nile, which would periodically flood the land. The spiritual “Egyptian” is one who does not recognize the Heavenly source of the blessings of life. He believes that all is generated from below — that everything he has and has achieved is of his own making. The people of Israel had been subjected to the Egyptian mentality for four generations. Thus they had to spend forty years in the desert during which they were subjected to a diametrically opposite set of circumstance, in which one’s daily bread descends from heaven and one’s own efforts have no effect on the result. Only after this lesson in the true source of life could they enter the Land that “drinks water of the rain of heaven” — where man’s efforts are crucial and significant, yet are permeated with a recognition of, and dependence upon, the true Source of All.
~Devorah Abenhaim
Jul 24, 2026 | Torat Devorah
The Parsha contains an apparent redundancy — it contains several admonitions to observe the laws taught by Moshe, but later states “and you shall do that which is right and good in the eyes of the Lord”. What new instruction does the latter verse add? Rashi and Rambam explain that this verse contains the additional command to do “right and good” — i.e., to go above and beyond the letter of the law in serving Hashem and aiding one’s fellow man. One who does so shows that he acts not only out of a sense of duty, or to gain rewards, but also out of a sincere desire to do Hashem’s bidding for its own sake. This ideal is illustrated by the following story: A man came to the Brisker Rav before Pesach and asked “Can I use milk instead of wine for the Four Cups?” The Brisker Rav didn’t reply; instead, he removed five rubles from his pocket and gave them to the man. The Rav’s wife asked “Would not one ruble have been more than enough money for him to buy wine?” “Perhaps,” responded the Rav, “but from his question, it was clear that he didn’t have money for meat either, for one can’t eat meat and use milk for the Four Cups. Therefore, I gave him enough money for both meat and wine for his Pesach Seder.”
“See that I have taught you statutes and laws as the Lord, my G-d, commanded me, to do so in the midst of the land.” Some philosophers advocate that if a person wants to live a life of sanctity and purity, he must flee from inhabited places and live alone in the wilderness. This is not, however, the path of the Torah. We are told to live an elevated life among other people. True sanctity and perfection is to live among other people and behave towards G-d and your fellow man in a manner consistent with Torah values (Arvai Nachal). The ideal of Torah is to bring sanctity and idealism into all aspects of human endeavor. If you live alone, you will be free from anger, envy, causing others pain, etc.; but, you will also be missing opportunities for kindness, compassion, charity, etc. Only when you are in the company of others can you fulfill allaspects of the Torah.
“And you shall remember that you were a slave in Egypt and G-d delivered you from there . . . therefore he is commanding you to make the day of Shabbos.” Rabbi Avraham Twerski comments: Several times, the Torah refers to Shabbos with the word “to make,” as though there were something active about Shabbos, although it would seem that the salient feature of Shabbos is complete rest or lack of activity. In the repetition of the Ten Commandments, there is a marked change from the original recitation. There it says that we must observe Shabbos because G-d created the universe in six days and rested on the seventh.” Yet, here it says that we should observe in remembrance of our enslavement in Egypt, Hashem is commanding us to make the day of Shabbos. Why does the Torah give a different reason for Shabbos here? Perhaps it is because that here the Torah is not telling us why to observe Shabbos, but how not to observe it. The idea of a “day of rest” is essentially a secular concept. One rests so that he/she can “recharge” the batteries in order to increase one’s work efficiency for the following week. The day of rest is a means rather than an end. The Torah concept of Shabbos is just the reverse. One works six days in order to be able to have a Shabbos. Exhaustion is not the reason for Shabbos any more than it was for G-d’s resting on the seventh day. Shabbos is a day of spiritual growth and development. It is a day when through prayer and the study of Torah, one should be able to create a new self, a person more refined than one had been heretofore. Shabbos is passive only in the sense of abstinence from work, but that abstinence is not sufficient. It must be used to enable oneself to make oneself into something finer and more spiritual person. This is what the Torah means by repeatedly using the expression “to make” the Shabbos. Make the Shabbos an active day of spiritual achievement and creation.
~Devorah Abenhaim
Jul 17, 2026 | Torat Devorah
This Shabbat we begin the reading of the last of the Five Books of Torah – the book of Devarim. In this book, Moses is the speaker as indicated by the fact that it states “Hashem spoke to me” (1:42, 2:9, 3:2). Whereas in the rest of the Toah discourses begin by stating “Hashem spoke to Moses”. According to Nachmanides, the book of Devarim may bThis Shabbat we begin the reading of the last of the Five Books of Torah – the book of Devarim. In this book, Moses is the speaker as indicated by the fact that it states “Hashem spoke to me” (1:42, 2:9, 3:2). Whereas in the rest of the Tore divided into three main sections: 1) 1:1-3:29. This section contains the words of reprimand to the people. He discusses the experience of the children of Israel – the first generation – those who left Egypt, and how they stood on the threshold of the Promised Land only to sin and defer their entry for thirty eight years. This section also witnesses Moses addressing the second generation; those who were permitted to enter the land of Canaan. 2) 4:1-26:15. This division contains the main subject matter of the book – a recapitulation and elaboration of the statutes and ordinances. 3) 26:16-end of the book. This section concludes the book with blessings, curses, and a song.
The Torah reading begins by stating: “These are the words that Moses spoke to all Israel” (1:1). The word ‘these’ or in Hebrew ‘eileh’ is restrictive, especially in regard to what has been written previously. The Or Hachayyim explains the seeing Moses recorded in this book only words which he had spoken on his own initiative, the Torah wishes to emphasizethat only the admonition recorded in this book were spoken by Moses on his own initiative. We are told in Megillah 31 that Moses personally composed the curses recorded in this book, and that even legislation which Moses repeated in this book he had not been commanded to repeat, but did so on his own volition. The Torah was concerned that we might conclude that just as Moses had felt free to say things of his own volition in this book, he might have done so in the previous four books. This is why the book commences with the “Eileh devarim”, “ONLY these are the words Moses spoke of his own volition, none other.”
Moses addresses the judges of the people and reviews the laws of how to deal justly and rightly with the people that come before them. In our parshah, we have directives of how judges are to judge, and later on in Devarim, we have more instructions. It states later on in Devarim: Thou shalt not pervert judgement; thou shalt not respect persons” (Devarim 16:19). Similarly, in Leviticus 19:15 it states: “Ye shall do no unrighteousness in judgement; thou shalt not respect the person of the poor, nor favour the person of the mighty, but in righteousness shalt thou judge thy neighbour.” Nechama Leibowitz , in her introduction to the book of Deuteronomy comments that our Sages have taught us not to regard any text in the Torah as merely repetitive, and they elicit for us the separate and exclusive messages of each word and phrase. She examines the implications of the repeated references to favouring the “poor” and “mighty”. The word “poor” does not only mean the destitute in worldly goods. Here is the interpretation of our sages on the text in Exodus 23: If a disreputable and a decent person stand before you in judgement do not say that since he is a disreputable, I shall view his cause unfavourably , but “thou shalt not pervert the judgement of thy poor” – he who is poor in good works (mitzvot). The judge, Leibowitz explains, has to limit his consideration to the parties standing before him in court and take no account of a person’s past, but weigh up the matter objectively on the basis of the facts presented to him. We find a similar duplication in the case of the admonition not to favour the poor man. In Exodus, we are bidden not to favour the poor man in his cause; in Leviticus not to respect the person of the poor nor favour the person of the mighty. Malbim, who specializes in clarifying the subtle differences in apparently synonymous expressions in the Torah directed his expertise to explaining our text: He says that the phrase ‘nesi’at panim’ (“lifting up the face” translated in our text by “respect the person”) implies overlooking some transgression or unsavoury matter. The word “favour” comes from a Hebrew root meaning external beauty (hadar) referring to whatever is attractive in man’s eyes. It is the way of the world to make allowances for poverty and to pay respect to external appearances. The Torah therefore forewarned us against both these pitfalls. But it could be argued that though forbidden to make allowances for the poor in the question of a lawsuit, it is permissible to pay him honour and give him respect, so that his opponent should forego some of his claim. For this reason, the Torah states that it is forbidden, too, to favour i.e. to honour the poor in his cause.
~Devorah Abenhaim
Jul 10, 2026 | Torat Devorah
The end of this week’s parasha – and thus, the end of the Book of Numbers (Bamidbar) presents a lengthy discussion of the laws regarding the establishment of the cities of refuge (arei miklat) and the inadvertent murderer. What is the relevance of these laws to the conclusion of Sefer Bamidbar? One would have expected this section to appear in the legal portions in Chumash, such as Parashat Mishpatim. (In fact, a brief reference to the cities of refuge does actually appear in Parashat Mishpatim – Shemot 21:13.)
Why does the Torah introduce the cities of refuge in our parasha? Given the context of this section, Rav Yonatan Grossman explains: “I would suggest that the presentation of the laws of the inadvertent murderer in our parasha focuses not on the murderer himself, but rather on the ramifications thereof to the LAND. The preceding section deals with the precise borders of the Land of Israel and the method of its distribution among the twelve tribes as well as the Tribe of Levi.
In this context, the Torah reminds us that several cities are to be designated for the benefit of accidental killers. It is therefore not surprising that the section concludes: “You shall not defile the land in which you live, in which I Myself abide, for I God abide among the Israelite people” (35:34). This verse forms an appropriate conclusion for the regulations involving the conquest, occupation and distribution of the Land. Nevertheless, the dominating characteristic of this section is clearly its strictly legal quality. In this sense, it differs substantially from the other two discussions of the arei miklat in Chumash.
First, let us briefly review the various references to arei miklat in the Torah. The concept of the city of refuge for inadvertent murderers appears in the Torah for the first time (as noted earlier) very briefly in Parashat Mishpatim: “He who fatally strikes a man shall be put to death. If he did not do it by design, but God lead him to it, then I will assign you a place to which he can flee” (Shemot 21:12-3). We encounter these laws once again in our parasha, in the context of the division of the Land, and lastly in Parashat Shoftim, where the Torah goes through this topic at length (Devarim 19).” Rav Grossman teaches that the function of the arei miklat of Sefer Devarim is clear and straightforward – to provide REFUGE for the murderer from the avenger. That parasha therefore stresses the issues relevant to the murderer’s successful escape and the security afforded to him by the city. Accordingly, the avenger emerges here as a frenzied and erratic vigilant, from whom refuge must be provided. For the same reason, nowhere in Sefer Devarim is there a reference to any legal process associated with the cities of refuge. Residence in the city is simply an option open to the inadvertent murderer for his safety.
Our parasha presents a more novel, less intuitive aspect of the cities of refuge, one of EXILE. It emerges as an integral part of the legal process to be undergone by the murderer, and he therefore does not have the option of leaving. He not only escapes to the ir miklat, but, after he has been acquitted from premeditated murder, the court forcefully returns him to the city, since he did, after all, kill, albeit accidentally. He must remain there until the death of the high priest and may not be released on bail. In this parasha, the avenger fills an official role, that of the court executioner, if warranted. It now becomes clear why in Sefer Bemidbar, as opposed to Sefer Devarim, the laws involving the intentional murderer are intertwined with the procedures involving the accidental killer. A moral complaint is brought against both. Although their punishments understandably differ from one another, both cases appear here as two instances of a similar scenario, and both require penalty and atonement.
~Devorah Abenhaim
Jun 26, 2026 | Torat Devorah
The Torah states the following: “The Children of Israel, the whole community, arrived in the desert of Tzin in the first month and the people settled in Kadesh. Miriam died there and was buried there.” (Numbers, 20:1). There are many questions that need to be answered from this seemingly simple verse such as: Why does the Torah tell us what month the Israelites arrived – not usually found when the Torah reports arrivals; Why did the Torah emphasize that the whole congregation arrived?; Why did Miriam’s burial have to be mentioned and later, the absence of water as affecting the entire congregation?
Torat Moshe explains that our sages say that Moses and Aaron were busy with the funeral arrangements for Miriam when they saw a multitude approaching. Moses was somewhat nonplussed, but Aaron felt that the people had surely come to pay their last respects to Miriam. Moses did not think so, for if Aaron had been correct, the people would have approached in an orderly procession. The confused mob approaching suggested to Moses that these people had something to complain about. When the people overheard this, they quarreled with Moses, and left Aaron out of it. In fact, they should have paid their respects to Miriam for a variety of reasons, not the least of it the fact that they had enjoyed a water supply for 40 years due to her merit. It was due to their indifference that God let it come to a critical situation. Should one argue that the people had been unaware that their water supply had been due to Miriam’s merit, God had stopped the supply IMMEDIATELY when Miriam had died, to bring home this lesson to the people who had either not known or had pretended not to know. Mention of their arrival in the desert, and the date, is to tell us that lack of water was not due to the natural habitat, nor to the time of year. At winter’s end, there is plenty of moisture remaining from the rainy season. Neither was the absence of water due to unfriendly terrain, since the people had settled there – in Kadesh – obviously a place fit for habitation. Water disappeared ONLY with the death of Miriam. This proved that the death of the righteous woman had caused the absence of water. The congregation was denied water now, because they had neglected to give respect to Miriam after her death.
In parshat Balak, we read about Balaam, who was a prophet of the gentile nations. This parshah focuses on Bilam’s ability to curse and his attempts, commissioned by King Balak of Moab, to curse the advancing nation of Israel. Nechama Leibowitz discusses the similarities/differences between Bilam and the other prophets of Israel. She teaches that the prophets of Israel do not themselves run after prophecy. On the contrary, a glance at Exodus 3-4 or Jeremiah 1 reminds us that they objected, as a rule, to this sudden imposition of responsibility from On High. Far from seeking it, it was thrust on them. Bilam, on the other hand, hankers after prophecy, and strives – through magical means – to obtain such power, to force it down from Heaven, as it were, through the medium of seven altars, seven bullocks, enchantments and solitude. As the Ramban observed in respect of sacrifices, the person bringing them wishes, through their medium, to achieve closer communion with God, elevating human nature to a Divine level. Balaam, on the other hand, desired to mould, as it were, the Divine will to his own nefarious ends, bringing the Divine down to the mortal level. But what did Bilam achieve through his sorcery? What are the implications of the phrase: “And the Lord put a word (davar) in Bilam’s mouth” (23:5). In Sanhedrin 105b it explains that rabbi Eliezer saw this word as an angel, and rabbi Yochanan saw it as a hook. According to Rabbi Eliezer, Bilam was merely guided from above to bless and not to curse. He had been intellectually enlightened to face the true facts. According to Rabbi Yochanan, however, he uttered the blessings in spite of himself, forced against his will, struggling and in distress like one that is hooked, to do the biding of his master.
~Devorah Abenhaim
Jun 12, 2026 | Torat Devorah
The Torah records in Parshat Beha’alotcha, that when Israel left Mt. Sinai, they traveled for three consecutive days, and describes how Israel began to grumble at the inconvenience. The urgency in moving them quickly was based on God’s desire to lead Israel into the land of Israel as quickly as possible, and his motives were dictated by the boundless love that he bore His chosen people, whom He wanted to see settled in the chosen land without delay. Yet that is not what they perceived. They grumbled because of the difficulties of the journey. Doubtlessly, they ascribed to Hashem an indifference to their well being and comfort, as indeed we find on other occasions, when they accused Him of taking them out of Egypt without caring as to what happened to them (and worse). And the same is probably true of the complaint that follows their immediately, when they grumbled that they were sick of the manna.
In this week’s Parshah too, the spies discovered that wherever they went, a plague struck down the Cana’anim and they were dying in large numbers. They concluded that the air of the land of Israel was unhealthy and prone to breeding plagues. They failed to see (or perhaps they did not want to see), that the Divine Hand was at work, protecting them, preventing their discovery by keeping the Cana’anim too busy to notice them, or at least, to be concerned with their presence. In this way, Hashem reckoned, they would be able to go about spying the land without hindrance. Yet they misconstrued Hashem’s chesed, mistaking His loving care for hatred.
The verse in Devarim (1:20) describes how Israel grumbled that night in their tents, how they declared that it was due to God’s hatred of Israel that He took them out of Egypt, to deliver them into the hands of the Ammorites to destroy them. In fact, Rashi comments, He loved them, and it was they who hated Him! And he goes on to quote a famous folk-saying ‘What a person thinks about his friend, he believes that his friend thinks about him’. Presumably, this saying is based on the verse in “ke’Mayim ha’ponim le’ponim” (Mishlei 27:19).
The Zohar attributes the spies’ prejudice to the fear that, once they entered Israel, the old constitution would end, and a new era would begin, incorporating new leaders, who would replace them. Presumably, that is also what prompted them to renounce Hashem as a hater. In order to misconstrue Hashem’s motives in His interrelationship with us, it is not necessary to be guided by personal prejudices (though it does help). All that is needed is a lack of appreciation a. of Hashem’s extreme goodness; b. of the fact that He loves all his people, and c. the extent of that love.
And you shall not go astray after your hearts and after your eyes … and you will be holy to your God” (ibid.). In spite of the fact that the Torah is addressing people who are prone to serve idols and to commit adultery, the verse nevertheless concludes with an injunction to be holy. It appears, remarked the Chofetz Chayim that no matter how low a Jew sinks, the Torah not only considers him capable of pulling himself out of the mire and of becoming a holy person, but that it actually expects him to do just that. But one could also explain the verse, not so much to stress the potential of a Jew, but to stress the power of mitzvot in general, and the mitzvah of Tzitzis in particular. Man’s body comprises the same components as an animal – to whose level he can sink without much effort. His soul has the make-up of an angel – to whose level he can rise, but only through hard work. To achieve this, G-d gave us the medium of mitzvot. What the Torah is teaching us here is that the mitzvot in general, and above all, the mitzvah of Tzitzis, will not only prevent us from sinking to the level of an animal (which instinctively follows its heart and eyes), but even have the power to raise us to the greatest heights, to make us holy like the angels.
~Devorah Abenhaim
