Parshas Re'ei

This week's parsha begins: "Re'ei anochi nosein lifneichem hayom bracha uklala." The Torah outlines the choice a person has between the blessings he will receive for observing the mitzvos, and the curses that can Heaven forbid befall a person if he does not. However, it is interesting to note that there is a discrepancy between the two verses: whereas the pasuk dealing with the curses uses the conventional lashon of "im lo sishme'u", the pasuk dealing with the blessings uses the lashon of "ASHER tishme'u", abandoning the usual conditional word "im". What is the reason for this deviation from the norm?

Perhaps we can answer that it is because the Torah is trying to tell us something more than just the cause-and-effect of mitzvah observance resulting in blessing. Rather, the Torah is hinting to us by using the word "asher" that mitzvah observance is actually a reward in and of itself. A person must always remember that it is a privilege to serve Hashem, a gift bestowed upon us like no other. We are fortunate that we are the am ha'nivchar, that we have the opportunity to serve Hakadosh Baruch Hu and to glorify his name.

That is why the pasuk says "Es habracha asher tishme'u el mitzvos Hashem Elokeichem" - in the literal sense, this can be interpreted as "the blessing IS that you will observe the mitzvos of Hashem". By following the Torah, a person enjoys a more fulfilling and enriched lifestyle. He merits the beauty and that only Shabbos can bring. He merits the fulfillment that can only come from Torah study. And he merits the enjoyment that only a spiritual person can feel.

Parshas Eikev

In this week's parsha, Moshe Rabbeinu says "v'ata Yisrael mah Hashem Elokecha sho'el me'imach, ki im l'yirah es Hashem Elokocha" - "And now, Yisroel, what does Hashem your G-d ask of you? Only that you fear Hashem, your G-d". The Gemara in Brachos asks the famous question: is fear of Hashem really such a small matter? To which the Gemara answers: yes indeed, to someone like Moshe Rabbeinu, fear of Hashem is a small matter.

The obvious question is, we all know that when speaking to someone else it is important to speak to them on their own level, so that they can relate to what is being said. If so, why would Moshe Rabbeinu say something like that to Klal Yisroel on his own level? Shouldn't he have been more considerate of the fact that even though it may have been simple for him, for Klal Yisroel it is more difficult?

The answer is, says R' Ahron Kotler, that each and every member of Klal Yisroel has a small part of Moshe Rabbeinu within themselves. Every Rebbe gives over a part of himself into his talmidim, and since Moshe Rabbeinu was the Rebbe of Klal Yisroel, a small part of his spirit is imbued in each person. And when a person focuses on that part of himself, the part of pure holiness that comes from Moshe Rabbeinu, then indeed, he will find that it is truly not difficult to fear Hashem.

Parshas Va'eschanan

In this week's parsha, the Torah records the first paragraph of Shema, the paragraph of "Ve'ohavta es Hashem Elokecha". There are several inconsistencies between the first and second paragraphs of Shema, some of which are mentioned by the Vilna Gaon.

First of all, the first parsha is written in singular form ("bechol levovCHA, ubechol nafsheCHA"), whereas the second parsha is written in plural form ("bechol levavCHEM, ubechol nafsheCHEM"). Second of all, the first parsha makes no mention whatsoever of schar ve'onesh, whereas the second parsha goes on in great detail about the rewards of following Hashem and the punishments of chas veshalom doing the opposite. And third of all, the first parsha mentions "bechol me'odecha" - serving Hashem with one's money, whereas the second parsha does not. What is the reason behind these discrepancies?

The answer is that the first parsha is referring to the special people who seek to be close to Hashem, whose profound dedication to Avodas Hashem sets them apart; the second parsha is referring to the more average person, whose religious convictions are more often dictated by the conventions of society.

The first parsha is written in singular form because there are only a few select people who really stand out in their Avodas Hashem, who have almost a private relationship with Him, so to speak. When a person reaches that level, that makes him truly an individual, hence the first parsha of Shema being written in the singular form; as opposed to an average person, whose religious observance is dictated by what other people are doing, and thus is addressed by a parsha written in the plural form.

Likewise, schar ve'onesh is not mentioned in the first paragraph because tzadikim do not need the concept of schar ve'onesh to keep them in line; they serve Hashem because of their love for Him. Such a concept belongs in the second parsha, since it is the average person who needs such motivation.

But perhaps the most crucial of the three is the third discrepancy: the fact that it says "bechol me'odecha" only in the first parsha and not the second. The reason for this is that parting with one's money for Hashem's sake is one of the most difficult tests a person can face, a test which only a true tzadik can pass. People can be very nice to one another and do lots of chesed, but when it comes to giving up of their wealth for Hakadosh Baruch Hu, they inexplicably find it difficult to come through. That is because money is the ultimate test of a person's dedication to Hashem. That's where a person must face the real challenge: am I just a beinini, whose parsha makes no mention of "bechol me'odecha" because serving Hashem with one's money can be too difficult to handle? Or do I wish to strive to be a tzadik, and to triumph the nisayon of money?

Parshas Devarim

In this week's parsha, the Torah recaps the various events that occurred to Klal Yisroel in the desert. Among the events mentioned is the story of the Meraglim. The pasuk says "Vatikrivun eilai kulchem", which Rashi explains that it was "b'irbuvia", meaning that the incident of Klal Yisroel demanding to send spies occurred in a totally discombobulated fashion. Rashi goes on to contrast how the story of Matan Torah was organized and proper, with the younger generation respecting their elders, and the elders respecting the leaders; whereas by the story of the Meraglim, the younger generation was pushing and shoving their elders, and the elders were pushing and shoving the leaders - a scene of total mayhem. Why did Rashi feel the need to draw a contrast between the two events? Wouldn't it have been enough to merely highlight what was wrong by the story of the Meraglim?

Perhaps we can suggest as follows: Klal Yisroel could have shrugged off the blame by saying that even though they sinned, it wasn't really their fault; rather, they erred due to the hysteria that came about because of the tremendous lack of order. After all, any major event that occurs with a lack of proper structure would be enough to throw people into a panic and cause them to act irrationally. Therefore, Rashi mentions another such incident, where there was the same potential for panic, but Klal Yisroel rose to the occasion: Matan Torah. By Matan Torah, too, there could have been much confusion and mayhem, which would have been easily attributable to the magnitude of the event causing a disruption of order and structure. Rashi is pointing out that since we see that Klal Yisroel did not buckle at another occasion under similar circumstances, obviously such circumstances cannot be a plausible explanation for the sin of the Meraglim.

This concept is unfortunately true in our times as well. All too often, we find ourselves dismissing questionable behavior with all kinds of excuses. "It's too difficult", "I'm too tired", "I don't have time" - the list of possible excuses is endless. But we must be honest with ourselves: is that REALLY the reason why we are not doing a particular mitzvah properly? If we were faced with a similar set of circumstances, except in a case where it is to our material benefit to follow through on the action in question, would we still give the same excuses? Or would we somehow find the strength to go ahead and do whatever it is?

We must be very careful to give Hashem the same level of consideration we do for ourselves, if not more. If we would overcome a particular inconvenience or physical discomfort for our own sake, then of course we must do so for Hashem's sake as well. And in the merit of making the right choices, may we be zoche to have this coming Tisha B'av converted into a time of happiness, with the coming of Moshiach and the rebuilding of the Beis Hamikdash, b'meheirah b'yomeinu.