Mar 30, 2015 | Torat Devorah
The number four figures quite prominently during Pesach: we ask the four questions, we drink four cups of wine, and we talk about four sons. There are those who even divide the Haggadah into four distinct sections and themes. Drinking wine symbolizes freedom, and at the Seder, we commemorate our freedom in this manner. Why though, do we need to drink four cups of wine? What is the significance of the number four in this regard?
Our Sages teach us that the four cups of wine correspond to yet another set of four, one that we find in the narrative of the exodus. The verse says, “Therefore, tell Bnei Yisrael (the Children of Israel) that I am G-D! I will remove you out from the bondage of Egypt, and I will save you from slavery; I will redeem you with an outstretched arm and great miracles. I will take you to be my nation, and I will be your G-d” (Exodus 6:6 – 7). There are four terms for redemption mentioned, and therefore we drink four cups of wine to commemorate these promises and their fulfillment.
Rabbi Ron Wittenstein explores this idea a bit further: “Let’s explore this idea a bit further. The number four appears in yet another place in the narrative. When G-d tells Moshe that the time has come to redeem the nation, He describes to Moshe the hardships that Bnei Yisrael are experiencing in their slavery. The Torah says, “G-d says, ‘I have seen the lowliness of my people who are in Egypt; the cries caused by the taskmasters I have heard, for I have known their suffering. I will go down and save them from Egypt… I have observed the pressure that Egypt has been placing upon them’” (Exodus 3:7-9). Here as well, there are four words used to describe our distress. It seems that this is telling us that the same way that we suffered in Egypt (described by four words) so, too, we are redeemed with four aspects of salvation.
It is possible to add even more depth to this idea, and to show how each term used in redemption is corresponding to a level of pain.
(1) The hardest type of slavery was when there was slavery with constant pressure; removal from bondage alleviates this pressure.
(2) Even without this pressure, we were still enslaved and suffering; the next level of our salvation was being saved from the slave labor.
(3) During our enslavement we cried out to G-d from our pain; G-d saves us and we can now call out to Him in praise of His redeeming us with miracles and wonders.
(4) We were downtrodden, with a slave mentality, viewing ourselves as lowly; G-d promises, “I will take you to me and you will be My nation,” elevating us to be His chosen people.
One idea that we see from this is that even with the hardships that arise in life, when the time of redemption comes, it is a complete one; a redemption that takes all aspects of the suffering into account. At the end of each Seder we say, “L’Shana Haba B’Yerushalayim!” Next year in Jerusalem. This prayer symbolizes our national wish to once again be redeemed and to live in a world of peace and freedom for all mankind. This prayer is apropos for the end of the Seder, since after our telling about the first exile and the amazing redemption from it, we end asking Hashem to bring the final redemption.
Prepared by Devorah Abenhaim
Mar 24, 2015 | Torat Devorah
“A constant fire shall burn upon the altar; it shall never go out.” (6:6)
Throughout their journeys in the wilderness, the Jewish People carried with them the Mishkan. The word Mishkan comes from the word in Hebrew which means “to dwell.” Through the Mishkan, G-d caused the Divine Presence, the Shechina, to dwell amongst the Jewish People.
There was an altar in the courtyard of the Mishkan. On it burned three different fires. On the eastern side of the altar was the maracha gadola, the “large arrangement”. On this largest fire, the korbanot sacrifices were offered. On the southwestern corner there was another fire that was used solely to ignite the pyre of the golden altar inside the Mishkan on which the incense was burned.
And there was a third fire which had no fixed place but could be made anywhere on the outside altar. This fire had one purpose and one purpose only to fulfill the words of the Torah in this weeks portion : “a constant fire shall burn upon the altar; it shall never go out.” Come rain or shine, weekdays and Shabbat, this fire never went out. It burned all the forty years that the Jewish People were traveling in the desert. In fact, it burned without interruption for a total of over one hundred years, in the desert, fourteen years in the Mishkan at Gilgal, and fifty-seven years in the Mishkan at Nov and at Givon. Two pieces of wood had to be added to the fire twice a day. One in the morning at the time of the morning offering, and one in the afternoon at the time of the afternoon offering.
One might ask, why were three fires necessary? Wouldnt one have sufficed?
Rabbi Sinclair explains: “These three fires can be understood as three aspects of our relationship with G-d: The large fire represents our external service; the performance of the mitzvot, the obligations of prayer at its fixed times throughout the day and throughout the year. Because it was the largest fire, it was the most visible, just as our external duties as Jews are the most visible, be they the giving of charity or the care of the orphan and the widow. These are things that are as visible as a large fire. However there was another fire whose function outside was for no other purpose than to kindle an internal fire. That fire teaches us that we must take our exterior service and use it to kindle the interior fire. That internal fire represents the duties of the heart: our belief and trust in G-d and our constant striving to be better people. Thats something you cant see from the outside, but like the incense that is burned on the golden altar, it emerges from within a person with a scent that is unmistakable. The third fire can me moved anywhere, but it must never go out. This represents the undying fidelity of the Jewish People to G-d throughout our long and difficult Diaspora. Even though we have had to move from one corner of the world, our devotion to G-d has never been extinguished by an unkind world. Whether in the light of morning, or the impending darkness of approaching night, throughout our long history, the Jewish People have always placed the kindling on the altar of our devotion to G-d.
The Torah states: “Then (the Kohen) shall take off his garments and put on other garments and carry forth the ashes out of the camp unto a pure place” (Leviticus 6:4). What lesson to we learn from the ceremonious taking out the ashes from the altar each morning? Rabbi Samson Raphael Hirsch comments that the taking out of the ashes that remained on the altar from the previous day expresses the thought that with each new day, the Torah mission must be accomplished afresh, as if nothing had yet been accomplished. Every new day calls us to our mission with new devotion and sacrifice. The thought of what has already been accomplished can be the death of that which is still to be accomplished. Woe unto him who with smug self-complacency thinks he can rest on his laurels, on what he has already achieved, and who does not meet the task of every fresh day with full devotion as if it were the first day of his life’s work.
Prepared by Devorah Abenhaim
Mar 20, 2015 | Torat Devorah
This week’s Torah reading begins with the following statement: “And He (G-d) called to Moshe (Moses).” Rabbi Tzvi Black explains that the word “Vayikra” (and he called) indicates an indication of love that G-d had for Moses. Moses – so to speak – received a personal “calling” or invitation whenever G-d wished to speak with him. The letter “Alef” in the word “Vayikra” is written smaller than the other letters. This is because Moses, in his great humility wanted to minimize the implication of this word, “Vayikra.” As the transcriber of the Torah, he could not change the word but he was able to mitigate to some degree the emphasis of that word by writing its first letter a bit smaller than the rest. This was Moses’s conduct when it was his own honor at stake. In the verse “Ashrecha Yisroel Mi Kamocha” – “Fortunate are you Israel; who is like you?” (Deut. 33:29), the letter Alef of the word “Ashrecha” is written larger than usual (according to the opinion of the Minchas Shai). Here, an emphasis is placed on the praises of the Jewish nation.
We also read about the procedure for various sacrifices. One such sacrifice was the sin offering. A person was obligated to bring a sin offering if they unintentionally transgressed a commandment whose intentional violation would be punished by death. There was a sliding scale for this sacrifice. A rich person brought an ox; middle class, goat or sheep; poor, two pigeons; destitute, flour and oil. The Rambam, Rabbi Moshe Maimonides, writes that if a rich person was to bring an offering of flour and oil, his obligation would not have been met. It did, however, suffice for a poor person to bring an ox. The Alter Rebbe writes in his Letters of Repentance, that in this time, when we can no longer bring sin offerings, a person should increase their service to Hashem. If one learns one chapter daily, they should increase to two. If one gives one penny to charity, let them give two, etc. Even in Temple times, the sacrifice did not provide a magical formula for sin removal. There has never been a quick fix for repentance. The main emphasis was and is on the person increasing in their Avodas Hashem, service of the Creator. By sinning, a person puts a blemish or dent in their soul. This blemish has a direct effect on their connection to G-d. By doing teshuva, repenting, one fills in those dents and fissures and repairs the attachment.
Yeast and honey were not permitted in the offerings on the altar, but salt was. Rabbi Mordechai Gifter teaches that yeast makes the dough rise higher and honey makes things sweeter, but both are external additives. Salt, however, only brings out the food’s existing flavor. When serving Hashem, Rabbi Zelig Pliskin explains, we should follow the model of salt – we should be ourselves, but make every effort to be all that we can be. (Dipping bread in salt should remind us not only of the sacrifices, but of our obligation to use our potential to the fullest.)
Prepared by Devorah Abenhaim
Mar 13, 2015 | Torat Devorah
What was the primary reason for Moshe’s detailed accounting of the costs of the Sanctuary? Chazal commented that there were apparently some who suspected that Moshe might have kept some of their Sanctuary contributions for his own use. Accordingly, he responded by showing one and all that every single coin and article contributed was indeed used for the Sanctuary. This illustrates the importance of not judging another person hastily. This lesson is also illustrated by the following two stories: a. Two valid witnesses appeared before the Rabbinical Court to testify that they had seen Rabbi Bunim eating cake and coffee on Yom Kippur. The Rabbis investigated the matter and found out exactly what had happened. Rabbi Bunim’s daughter-in-law gave birth right before Yom Kippur. About an hour into Yom Kippur, Rabbi Bunim asked her if she had eaten anything as one is required to eat despite the fast in such circumstances. When he was told that she refused to eat because it was Yom Kippur, he insisted that she take some refreshments. She refused to eat unless her father-in-law personally gave her the food. Since this was a matter of saving a life, Rabbi Bunim took cake and coffee in hand and brought them to her. Just at that moment, the two witnesses looked out the window and saw the Rabbi carrying the food and mistakenly assumed that he was going to eat the food himself.
- Rabbi Aryeh Levin was well known for his care in judging everyone favorably.He once related to somehow how he acquired this attribute: “It happened when I attended the funeral of Rabbi Eliezer Rivlin, a prominent treasurer of charity funds in Jerusalem. The deceased has an intimate friend, Rabbi Shmuel Kook, with whom he has worked for 30 years. When the funeral procession began, I noticed Rabbi Kook enter a flower shop and buy a flower pot. I was shocked and went over to Rabbi Kook to rebuke him. Is this the way you add to the funeral of a life-long friend?’ I censured him, Couldn’t you find a more appropriate time to buy a flower pot?’ Rabbi Kook then explained his behavior. He had befriended someone who was hospitalized with a highly contagious disease and had died the day before. The doctors, who were not Jewish, ordered that all of his belongings be burned. When Rabbi Kook heard about the orders, he pleaded with the doctors not to burn the man’s Tefillin, but to allow him them to be carefully buried instead. The doctors agreed that if he obtained a earthenware pot they would permit the Tefillin to be buried in it. But, they warned him that he only had until 12 noon. Therefore, he had to leave the funeral procession of his best friend in order to meet the deadline. “At that moment, I made a resolution to always judge others favorably.”
“These are the reckonings of the Tabernacle.” Rav Moshe Feinstein explains: The accounting of the various materials donated for the Mishkon interrupts between the narrative of the construction of the Mishkon and the fabrication of the priestly garments, which begin afterwards with the making of the Ephod. This verse holds a profound lesson which can constantly be applied to our lives: just as the artisans had to account for their use of every ounce of materials that was donated for the construction of the Mishkon and its furnishings, so also must we be able to give an accounting for the bounty with which Hashem has blessed us. Did we devote the time and years which Hashem allots us to Torah and mitzvos? Did we use our money and possessions for charity, hospitality and helping people? We should not think that the resources which Hashem gives us are ours to use as we desire. On the contrary, the Torah gives detailed rules governing our conduct and the use of our property. Each of us will be called upon to account as to whether we have used all of the talents and resources which Hashem has provided us to fulfill His will through Torah and mitzvos. A famous story is told in the name of many great Chassidic Rebbes, including Reb Zusia. He often said that after a person dies and ascends to the heavens for judgment, he is required to defend his past actions and behavior. But, he isn’t asked why he wasn’t as great as Moshe, as learned as Rabbi Akiva, etc. Each person has difficult capabilities and is only asked why he didn’t use his G-d-given talents to the fullest — was he as great as he could have been?! Prepared by Devorah Abenhaim
Mar 6, 2015 | Torat Devorah
The Torah portion Ki Tissah deals with, among other things, the episode of the Golden Calf. In this episode, various contradictory viewpoints are expressed regarding what are appropriate characteristics of a leader, and also regarding the thorny question of the connection between a leader and the masses.
We already know from the beginning of the book of Exodus that Moses was not a man of words but rather heavy of mouth and tongue and had clumsy lips , while about Aaron it is said there that he says what there is to say . Because of this, G-d instituted Moses as the leader and Aaron as his spokesperson.. This almost begs the question: Why this complicated solution? After all, it would have been much simpler to make Aaron himself the leader, especially since he was the firstborn and Moses the younger brother.
Many answers have been given to this question. One of the most to-the-point answers is that G-d wished to prevent the possibility that the masses of Israel would view Moses as a god. Therefore G-d purposely chose a leader for whom an imperfection would be obvious at first glance, and about whom it would thus be clear that he could not possibly be a god. For Pharaoh was considered by the Egyptians to be a god, and Moses was going to overpower Pharaoh. What could be more natural than the conclusion that someone who is victor over a person who is considered to be a god, possessor of an boundless empire, is himself a god? Because of this problem, it was appropriate to have an imperfect leader, in order to demonstrate to the Israelites that it was not Moses who was victor over Pharaoh, but rather G-d. Moses himself is only flesh and blood, and, despite all his admirable qualities, only human, and even has a physical imperfection.
However, there is more to Moses being chosen as the leader over Aaron. The deep difference between the two of them is pointedly demonstrated in the episode of the Golden Calf. Here, it is made clear that Aaron, who fulfilled his role as long as he followed Moses’ orders, failed miserably when Moses was absent . The commentators who explain as follows are definitely correct: Aaron had no intention whatsoever toward worship of another god, rather, he wished to make a sort of seat for the true G-d. Further, Aaron did not rush to do even this. To the contrary, he first tried to buy time, hoping that the demanding masses would calm down. He suggested: Remove your wives’, sons’ and daughters’ gold earrings, and bring them to me in the hope that the people would not want to do this, or that it would take a long time and in the meantime Moses would return. But these things did not occur, and Aaron found himself swept along the tide of the events and the people’s demands. Even then he still attempted to find a compromise between the enthusiasm of the masses and what was appropriate. Thus, even after he made the Golden Calf and built an altar before it, he announced: Tomorrow is a holiday dedicated to G-d. He instituted a holiday from his own initiative, however, he thought that by doing so he could direct the people to the proper path. In order to remove all doubt from the masses, he announced that the holiday was for G-d. However, the people acted as they wished. But even when Aaron saw the immoral consequences of his efforts, he was not inspired to stand in the breach and rebuke the people. Perhaps in the depths of his heart he wanted to, but feared the masses, or perhaps he lost his head completely.
Professor Moshe David Her of Hebrew University explains: Moses is the exact opposite of Aaron. He recovers amazingly quickly from his astonishment at the report G-d gives him of the terrible news about the making of the Golden Calf. All of his hard work with the nation had just collapsed and crumbled in one moment, yet he reacts to G-d’s message ,begging G-d to retract this intention. Indeed, his prayers are answered. Upon descending from the mountain, Moses made a decision on his own, without even asking G-d’s permission, and broke the Tablets of the Law, which were of G-d’s making and written by G-d. Similarly, Moses performs his other actions of his own volition (burning and grinding the Calf; punishing the Israelites). Yet at the same time he informs G-d that if G-d does not forgive the sin of the Israelites, Erase me from the Book which You have written . At no point in the episode did Aaron attempt to suggest that he himself would pay most of the price for what occurred. On the contrary, we have seen that he tried with his mumbled excuses to place the blame on the nation. This is a model of a weak leader, who went along with the people from the start, and who was not willing to take responsibility upon himself after the fact. Indeed, Moses is his complete opposite. He is capable of making decisions that are difficult, bold, painful and unpopular not only with the people but perhaps even with G-d. By the same token, he is always willing to take complete responsibility upon himself, not only for what he did, but even for something he did not to and which took place in his absence and without even his knowledge; he is willing to at any time to sacrifice his own life for the people.
Prepared by Devorah Abenhaim
Feb 26, 2015 | Torat Devorah
The Torah tells us that the Altar upon which burnt offerings were brought was made of wood that was covered with a thin layer of copper. It is therefore referred to as “the copper Altar” and “the Altar of burnt offerings.” The Midrash states, “Moshe said before G’d, ‘Master of the Universe, You had commanded me to make an Altar from Acacia wood and cover it with copper. You also told me that there will be a continuous fire that burns upon it. Will the fire not melt away the copper and burn the wood that is beneath it?’ G’d responded to Moshe, ‘The fact that fire burns through copper and consumes wood is a phenomenon that exists within the physical realm. However, in the spiritual realm these laws do not apply. Gaze upon the angels. They are composed of a consuming fire. In addition, in the spiritual realm there are great amounts of ice, yet the fire of the angels does not melt it. Fire and ice coexist without interfering with one another.”
Rabbi Yosek Kalatsky comments: The Midrash tells us that at Sinai every Jew stood in a physical state of perfection. Whoever had been previously blind was able to see. If one were crippled, he was able to stand. Those who were deaf were able to hear. This is because the Divine Presence had come upon Sinai. Since G’d is the source of all life and everything that is perfect, anything that is within His proximity is infused with a life force and thus assumes a state of perfection. There is no deficiency within the life force that one receives directly from G’d. Thus, anything that is exposed to His Presence assumes a perfected state. However, after the sin of the Golden Calf the Divine Presence distanced Itself from the Jewish people. Those who had been previously handicapped reverted back to their imperfect state. Moshe had understood that the Mishkan was a semblance of Sinai but was not an exact replication of Sinai. Since the Jewish people themselves were no longer qualified to contain the Divine Presence, directly within their midst, it was only through the medium of the Mishkan that they were able to have a relationship with G’d. Moshe believed that the Mishkan no longer represented the spiritual realm. Thus, it was subject to physical phenomena. Ramban explains that every aspect of the Mishkan reflected and symbolized the setting of Sinai. Thus, the Mishkan was the equivalent of Sinai in accommodating G’d’s Presence. Moshe, therefore needed to be informed that despite the spiritual regression of the Jewish people, as a result of the sin of the Golden Calf, the Mishkan itself was an exact spiritual replication of the Sinai setting.
Chazal tell us that before Adam had sinned by eating from the Tree of Knowledge all trees were fruit bearing. It was only after the sin that non-fruit bearing trees came into being. After the sin of Adam, the world became tainted and thus G’d distanced Himself to a degree from the physicality of existence. Consequently, some trees no longer bore fruit because they were no longer attached to the source of life. Thus, they existed in a deficient state. At the end of time, when G’d will return and permeate all existence, all trees will once again produce fruit.
Prepared by Devorah Abenhaim
