Nov 13, 2025 | Torat Devorah
In an ironic twist, the portion dealing with the death of Sarah is called Chayei Sarah, “The Life of Sarah,”but on second thought, it is not really so strange. We celebrate a person’s life only when it has been rounded out.. But instead of a eulogy, the portion begins with a long passage describing Abraham’s acquiring the cave of Machpelah as a burial place for his wife, Sarah. The following chapter tells the story of Abraham’s servant finding Rebekah and bringing her back to become the wife of Abraham’s son Isaac. Notably, Isaac brings Rebekah to the tent of his recently deceased mother, where “he took Rebekah, and she became his wife and he loved her. Thus did Isaac take comfort after [the death of] his mother”(Genesis 24:67).
It is disappointing that Sarah’s life is only hinted at in the portion that bears her name, and we are left to fill in the blanks only from events as told from Abraham’s perspective. We cannot know whether Sarah has truly lived the life she meant to live—kept her values, lived up to her integrity—until we see the whole of her life. So let us try to reconstruct her life based on what we know.
When Abraham was called in Lech L’cha to leave his father’s house, Sarah naturally went with him. She, too, was taken from her home, her kindred, but to a land that would be shown to her husband, not to her. We know she was barren and that it grieved her enough to offer her servant Hagar to her husband so that he could have a son. We know that she is twice called beautiful, but Abraham used her beauty for his own purposes. He put her at great risk by passing her off as his sister, because he feared that if the Egyptians knew that she was his wife, he would be killed. He did not object when Pharaoh took her as his own wife—that is, until God afflicted Pharaoh with plagues (Genesis 12). Abraham repeated this ruse with Abimelech (Genesis 20). We know that Sarah longed for a son and was finally blessed with the birth of Isaac, which seemed to answer her distress and give meaning to her life. One midrash suggests that her fear for Isaac’s life during the Akeidah caused her death ( Pirkei D’Rabbi Eliezer 31). With hardly any other clues, we are left to discover, if we can, who Sarah was in herself and in her relationship with God.
Dr. Carol Ochs, a professor at Hebrew Union College, explains that the most important traces of Sarah can be found in the life of her son. When Rebekah first sees Isaac and he is meditating in a field, it is evident that Sarah had helped him develop his own relationship with God. Isaac, as the Torah points out, loved his wife, and unlike the other patriarchs, he was monogamous. Also he is the only one of the three to pray to God on behalf of a barren wife (Genesis 25:21). With the death of his mother, Isaac exhibited both a capacity to mourn and a capacity to be comforted. Abraham was the first and the great innovator of the faith. Jacob grew to be the ancestor of the twelve tribes. Isaac merely re-dug his father’s wells. But his faithfulness, modesty, and humility say much about him and about his mother, who raised him. We have been led to believe that greatness comes from carrying out flamboyant deeds and taking courageous stances. Today we recognize the deeper courage that lies in endurance, in day-to-day faithfulness granted not for recognition, wealth, or power, but for its own sake.
If we regard the Torah’s depiction of Isaac as a text that sheds light on the life of Sarah, we recognize a woman who had to fashion her own relationship with God. She was capable of abiding love and fidelity to her spouse and son. Also, she could endure the harshness of the land, even in times of famine, and the deeper harshness of her husband’s silent ways. We celebrate the life of Sarah not simply because she passed on the line of the covenant, but because in the values she passed on to her son, she exerted a tempering influence on the severe ways of patriarchy. Because of her, Jewish wives can expect to be loved, exclusively, by their spouses. They can expect a relationship that is mutual and that is shaped by a shared relationship with God. And they can know that through their own fidelity and endurance, they contribute significantly to the line of the covenant.
~Devorah Abenhaim
Oct 31, 2025 | Torat Devorah
And it occurred, as he was about to enter Egypt, he said to his wife Sarai, ‘See now, I have known that you are a woman of beautiful appearance. And it shall occur, when the Egyptians will see you, they will say, ‘This is his wife!’ – then they will kill me…’ ” (12:11-12) How was it possible that only now Avraham recognized Sarah’s beauty? The Arizal says that up till this point in time Avraham had no concept of physicality – like Adam before he sinned. However, as he approached Egypt, the world center of decadence, even his lofty spiritual level lessened when he perceived good and evil – the domain of physicality. Sensing this change in himself, Avraham recognized the depths of impurity that was Egypt. He now sensed that it was indeed possible for man to sink to murder in order to satisfy his physical desires.
The following is a quote from the the Vilna Gaon: “In every generation new barriers need to be erected, for every generation is less than its predecessor and the eruv rav (descendents of the Egyptians who left Egypt at the time of the Exodus) grow stronger. Therefore, it is necessary to barricade anew the breaches (in morality) perpetrated by the eruv rav. This is what the Torah means when it says “Guard my guardings!” (Vayikra 29:9) Rabbi Chaim Zvi Center explains: Like Avraham, the closer we get to our own little Egypts – the larger our cars, our houses and our physical well-being loom in our lives – the more we know that we need to build stronger and stronger fences against a world that celebrates immorality and conspicuous consumption.
Rabbi Yaakov Asher Sinclair comments: ” Life’s essential journey is that of the soul discovering its true identity. We learn this from the first two words in this week’s Torah portion. “Lech Lecha.” “Go to yourself.” Without vowels, these two words are written identically. When G-d took Avraham out of Ur Kasdim and sent him to the Land of Israel, He used those two identical words —Lech Lecha —“Go to yourself.”
Spiritual growth requires the soul to journey. Our soul must notch up the miles, not our feet. The spiritual road requires us to forsake the comfortable, the familiar ever repeating landmarks of our personalities, and set out with an open mind and a humble soul. We must divest ourselves of the fawning icons of our own egos which we define and confine us — and journey. Avraham experienced ten tests in his spiritual journey.Each was exquisitely designed to elevate him to his ultimate spiritual potential. When G-d gives us a test, whether it’s the death of a loved one or a financial reversal or an illness, it’s always to help us grow. By conquering the obstacles that lie in our spiritual path – be it lack of trust in G-d or selfishness or apathy — we grow in stature. We connect with the fundamental purpose of the journey — to journey away from our negative traits and reach and realize our true selves.
We “go to ourselves.”
~Devorah Abenhaim
Oct 24, 2025 | Torat Devorah
“And He blotted out all existence that was on the face of the ground – from man to animals to creeping things and to the bird of the sky; and they were blotted out from the earth. Only Noach survived and those with him in the Ark.” (Gen. 7:23)
Parashat Noach raises the following question: Why did G-d wipe out all of the beasts, birds, and crawling things in the flood? If man sinned, why should the animals suffer? Rashi explains: “The entire creation is for man, and when man is wiped out, who needs all these?” That is, the purpose of the creation is not simply to exist, but rather to actualize the destiny of the Creation. The moment there is no purpose (which is the case after G-d wiped out man, for whom the world was created), then the animals must perish since there is no longer a reason for their existence. Here, too, the moment the deeds of man prove that there is no longer a possibility for him to fulfill his destiny, his existence is no longer necessary, and he perishes. But we are still left wondering: All that creation, just for annihilation? All those generations before the flood (a span of 1654 years) were for nothing?
The answer is no. Harsh though this verses may be, a verse appears at the very end of Bereshit which turns everything around: “But Noach found grace in the eyes of G-d.” And while this lonely verse may appear to be only a small comfort to a world gone astray, the truth is that this one verse is everything. Even if we are speaking about one individual, he is the one who counts. Noach is the justification for the world’s continued existence.
The story of Noach provides us with a concrete illustration as to what the true role of the chastising prophet is – as Noah did warn the people to repent. Certainly the major goal of the warnings and admonishment are to direct the people onto the proper path, in the hope that they will do “teshuva” immediately. But in contrast as to what one might think, if the prophet does not succeed in bringing the people to “teshuva,” this does not necessarily mean that he failed! A deeper look will reveal that the rebuke in itself has value. If we look at the prophets of Israel, we will notice an amazing fact: Generally speaking, they were a dismal failure. It seemed as if they influenced no one. The people were not interested in hearing them, and did not change their evil ways. Does this mean that there was no value in the warnings of the prophets?
Rav Binyomin Zeev Kahane explains: ‘G-d’s answer to Ezekiel when He appoints him as a prophet (chapter 2) is as follows: “And He said to me, Son of man, I sent thee to the children of Israel…that have rebelled against me…and you shall say to them, Thus says the Lord G-d. And they, whether they will hear, or whether they will refuse to hear, (for they are a rebellious house), so that they shall know that there has been a prophet amongst them.” And afterwards (3:7): “But the house of Israel will not hearken to you…” Can this be? If G-d knows that they will not listen, why send Ezekiel out and put him through such humiliation and abuse? And so a new concept is learned here. The saying of truth has value, even if it has no apparent influence at that particular moment. What is the value? “So that they shall know that there has been a prophet amongst them.” Even if immediate results are not seen, the value of the warnings are that they manifest the bringing in of G-d’s word into the world. The prophet who expresses G-d’s truth is giving expression to G-d’s actual presence in this world. It is showing us that the world is not “hefker” (chaos). There is justice in the world. By so doing, the prophet in essence sanctifies G-d’s name.’
~Devorah Abenhaim
Oct 17, 2025 | Torat Devorah
Bereishit
Male and female He created them (1:27)
Midrash Rabbah states that G‑d created the first man as a two-sided creature—one face male, and one face female. He then hewed him in two and made a back for each half. But I f G‑d desired mankind to be comprised of both male and female, why did He not create them that way in the first place—as He did with the other animals? The Lubavitcher Rebbe explains: “If they were to be originally and intrinsically two, each would be trapped in the exclusivity of his or her identity. Their encounter would be a relationship at best, a war at worst. Neither would have it in them to transcend the individuality into which they were born. The two would remain two, however integrated. But neither did G‑d desire man to be a singular being. As a single individual, man was without match, without challenge, and thus without potential for growth and creation. “It is not good that man be alone,” said the Creator; he requires a “helpmeet” and an “opposite.” So G‑d created them one, and then split them into two.
Thus man searches for woman, and woman yearns for man. Thus each has it within their power to reach within their splintered self and uncover their primordial oneness. Thus man and woman cleave to each other and become one.” And there was evening and there was morning, the sixth day (1:31) The six days of creation embody the whole of history, for the world shall exist six thousand years (Talmud, Rosh Hashanah 31a), which is why it is said that “G‑d’s day is a thousand years” (Midrash Rabbah).
The Ramban comments: “The first day of creation, which saw the creation of light, corresponds to the first millennium of history—the millennium of Adam, the light of the world, when the world was still saturated with knowledge of its Creator and was sustained by the indiscriminate benevolence of G‑d.
The second day, on which the Creator distinguished between the spiritual and the physical elements of His creation, yielded a second millennium of judgment and discrimination—as reflected in the flood which wiped out a corrupt humanity and spared only the righteous Noah and his family.
The third day, on which the land emerged from the sea and sprouted forth greenery and fruit-bearing trees, encapsulates the third millennium, in which Abraham began teaching the truth of the One G‑d, and the Torah was given on Mount Sinai.
The fourth day, on which G‑d created the sun and the moon, the two great luminaries, the greater luminary and the lesser luminary, corresponds to the fourth millennium, during which the First Temple and the Second Temple in Jerusalem served as the divine abode from which light emanated to the entire world.
The fifth day, the day of fish, birds and reptiles, represents the lawless and predatory Dark Ages of the fifth millennium.
The sixth day, whose early hours saw the creation of the beasts of the land, followed by the creation of man, is our millennium—a millennium marked by strong, forceful empires, whose beastly rule will be followed by the emergence of Moshiach, the perfect man who brings to realization the divine purpose in creation and ushers in the seventh millennium—the world to come—a time of perfect peace and tranquility.”
‘And Abel, he also brought of the firstlings of his flock and of the fat parts thereof; and G‑d paid heed to Abel and to his offering’ (4:4) By the same token, the Rambam explains, everything that is for the sake of G‑d should be of the best and most beautiful. When one builds a house of prayer, it should be more beautiful than his own dwelling. When one feeds the hungry, he should feed him of the best and sweetest of his table. When one clothes the naked, he should clothe him with the finest of his clothes. Whenever one designates something for a holy purpose, he should sanctify the finest of his possessions, as it is written (Leviticus 3:16), “All the fat is to G‑d.”
~Devorah Abenhaim
Sep 15, 2025 | Torat Devorah
Ki Tavo
At the outset of this week’s parshah, the Jewish people are commanded to do the following positive commandment: “…when you enter the land that Hashem, your God, gives you as an inheritance…that you shall take of the first of every fruit of the ground that you bring in from your Land that Hashem, your God, gives you…” (Deuteronomy 26:1).
What, in essence, was the purpose and goal of this mitzvah? The author of Akedat Yitzchak explains: The essence of acknowledging Divine sovereignty lies in man’s gratitude to the Creator as the source of all the good, and his appreciation that man himself is, in no way, responsible for all that the might of his own hand has accomplished. Failure to realize this implies repudiation of the yoke and fear of heaven and all the evil consequences that flow from there. This is indeed the subject of Moses’ address to the people in Deuteronomy 4:25ff. They would forget God’s bounty and imagine that they were the authors of all the benefits they were enjoying in the Promised Land. They were therefore bidden to perform a rite that would act as a constant reminder that the “earth is the Lord’s and the fullness thereof”; that everything was a gift bestowed by Him and He was responsible for all their prosperity, the bringing of the first fruits. Indeed, all such offerings constituted acknowledgement of Divine over lordship. Abravanel, slightly varying his treatment, explains that the purpose of bringing the first fruits was to humble man’s selfish passions. Since the first fruits constitute man’s most treasured possession, God commanded man to subdue his natural instincts and not eat there from, but rather dedicate them to Him on High.
Nechama Leibowitz discusses that the motive behind the ceremony of the dedication of the first fruits is stated in the Torah itself in verses 9 and 10. The celebrant in verse 9 declares: “And He (God) hath brought us into this place…” In exchange for that “bringing” to the Promised Land he gratefully brings his first fruits (v.10): “And now, behold, I have brought the first fruits of the land which thou, O Lord, hath given me.” Since man cannot however really reciprocate God’s bounty, for the simple reason that “the earth is the Lord’s and the fullness thereof or, as stated in 1 Chronicles 29:14: “For all things come of Thee, and of thine own have we given thee”, it is left to man to perform a symbolic act leaving all before the Lord, and make the declaration formulated in our sedra, known as ‘mikra bikkurim’ or Recital of the First-Fruits. The Israelite farmer who brings the first-fruits of his soil does not say: My fathers came to the land which the Lord swore to give to them. Rather, he proclaims in every generation, as long as his people dwells in the Land, whenever he brings its first-fruits, in thanks to the Almighty: “I am come to the Land, which the Lord swore to our fathers to give to them” (26:3). He himself has come unto the land, in the same way as our Pesach Haggadah states: “That in every generation every Jew obligated to see himself as if he had gone out of Egypt…the Holy One blessed be He did not only redeem our fathers, but He redeemed us too, with them.
At the conclusion of the parshah, Moses states that what he was telling B’nei Israel were “the words of the covenant” (28:69). Since we are aware of the covenant at Mount Chorev, why does the Torah have to spell out here that there was such a covenant? Torat Moshe explains that the reason the covenant has to be renewed is that despite the overwhelming experience at Mount Sinai, i.e. Chorev, you have been remiss on many occasions, and have transgressed the covenant. This is not held against you so much, since only now after 40 years have you acquired an understanding heart (29:3). Unfortunately, it took 40 years for you to appreciate all that God has done for you. Only now that you are starting to take possession of your Land, do you commit yourself to God’s covenant in a mature fashion. Having studied the Torah over a period of close to 40 years, you have acquired enough insight, i.e. eyes to see and eyes to hear.
~Devorah Abenhaim
Aug 8, 2025 | Torat Devorah
I beseeched G‑d at that time (3:23)
Moses prayed 515 prayers—the numerical value (gematria) of va’etchanan, “and I beseeched”—to be allowed to enter the Land. The Yalkut Shemini explains: When Moses saw that the decree had been sealed against him, he went and drew a circle and sat inside it, and said: I am not moving from here until You nullify the decree! . . . He then wrapped himself in sackcloth and covered himself with ashes, and stood in prayer and supplication before G‑d until the heaven and the earth and the very laws of creation began to tremble, and said: Perhaps the time has come for G‑d to destroy the world? . . . What did G‑d do at that moment? He announced at every gate of every heaven and at every gate of every court that Moses’ prayer should not be admitted . . . for the voice of Moses’ prayer was like a sword that slices and rips, and which nothing can stop . . . Said Moses to G‑d: If You will not allow me to enter the Land, allow me to [enter] as a beast of the field, which grazes on the grass and drinks water and sees the world that way—let my soul be as one of those! Said G‑d: “Enough!” Said Moses to G‑d: If You will not allow me to enter the Land, allow me to [enter] as a bird that flies in the air to all four corners of the earth to collect its feed, and in the evening returns to its nest—let my soul be as one of those! Said G‑d: “Enough!”
There is none else beside Him (4:35)
Rabbi Binyamin Kletzker, a chassid of Rabbi Schneur Zalman of Liadi, was a lumber merchant. One year, while he was adding up the annual accounts, he inadvertently filled in under a column of figures: “TOTAL: Ein od milvado (‘There is none else beside Him’).” A fellow chassid admonished him for his absentmindedness. “Don’t you know, Reb Binyamin, that everything has its time and place?” he admonished. “There’s a time for chassidic philosophizing, and a time to engage in worldly matters. A person’s business dealings are also an important part of his service of the Almighty, and must be properly attended to.” Said Rabbi Binyamin: “We consider it perfectly natural if, during prayer, one’s mind wanders off to the fair in Leipzig. So what’s so terrible if, when involved in business, an ‘alien thought’ regarding the oneness of G‑d infiltrates the mind?”
You shall love the L‑rd your G‑d . . . (6:5) The Maggid of Mezeritch expounded on this verse, and asked: how can there be a commandment to love? Love is a feeling of the heart; one who has the feeling, loves. What can a person do if, G‑d forbid, love is not embedded in his heart? How can the Torah instruct “you shall love” as if it were a matter of choice? But the commandment actually lies in the previous verse, “Hear O Israel . . .” Rabbi Yosef Yitzchak of Lubavitch explains: The Hebrew word shema (“hear”) also means “comprehend”. The Torah is commanding a person to study, comprehend and reflect upon the oneness of G‑d. Because it is the nature of the mind to rule the heart, such contemplation will inevitably lead to a love of G‑d. If one contemplates deeply and yet is still not excited with a love of G‑d, this is only because he has not sufficiently refined and purified himself of the things which stifle his capacity to sense and relate to the divine. Aside from this, such contemplation by the mind will always result in a feeling of love.
Devorah Abenhaim
