Parshas Terumah

In this week's parsha, the Torah tells us all about the construction of the Mishkan and its various keilim. The Mechilta tells us that although the keilim were made out of gold, at a time when there is no gold available, the keilim may be made - b'dieved - out of other metals. Except for one: the Keruvim on the Aron. The Keruvim must always be made out of pure gold, no matter what. But why? What is so special about the Keruvim?

The Lubliner Rav, Harav Meir Shapiro zatzal, says that the answer to this question lies in the construction of the Keruvim. The Keruvim were designed with the faces of children (which we derive from the root word "keruvia", which means "like a child"). The placement of the Keruvim on top of the Aron - which contained the Luchos - symbolizes chinuch habonim, teaching us that we must educate our children in Torah.

In all matters of life - even spiritual matters - it is occasionally necessary to make certain compromises, to make things out of "other metals", as it were. But the Keruvim must always be made out of gold to show us that chinuch habonim is of the utmost importance - it must never be compromised on, no matter what. Our children's education is of such critical importance because our children are our future, the future of Klal Yisroel. Something so crucial cannot be done in an inferior fashion. We cannot cut corners and use other means instead. Because we must treat our children like what they are: they are our most precious assets.

Parshas Mishpatim

This week's parsha finishes off with Moshe Rabbeinu ascending to the heavens, where he was to remain for forty days and forty nights to receive the Torah. But surely Hashem, with His infinite capabilities, could have taught the entire Torah to Moshe in just one day! Why did Hashem feel it necessary to teach him the Torah over a period of forty days?

The answer is that Hashem was hinting to Moshe exactly what the nature of the Torah is. The Torah is not merely a set of laws, a set of guidelines to update an existing lifestyle; rather, it is a new lifestyle unto itself. By accepting the Torah, the Jewish nation was actually reborn as a more enhanced nation, not merely an upgraded version of the old one. And that is why Hashem taught Moshe the Torah over a period of forty days: just as the period of yetziras havlad (the gestation of a newborn) is forty days, so too Klal Yisroel's rebirth as the nation of the Torah took forty days.

We should learn from this how to live our lives as true Torah Jews. We are not simply BETTER than the other nations of the world - we are DIFFERENT. We cannot live like they do, just in a somewhat better fashion; rather we must live a completely different life, the life of someone who is part of the Chosen Nation. We should never forget who we are: the greatest nation to walk the face of the earth - Hashem's eternal people.

Parshas Yisro

This week's parsha is one of the most famous in the Torah, because it recounts the events of the giving of the Torah on Har Sinai. We are told in great detail of the awesome spectacle of how Hashem revealed of His glory to Klal Yisroel, and gave us the Torah. One would expect such a dramatic parsha to have an equally dramatic ending. Yet for some reason, the parsha ends with Hashem commanding us not to have stairs leading up to the mizbei'ach - instead, it must be accessed only via a ramp. Why does the parsha dealing with such a lofty event end with such a seemingly mundane commandment - simply telling us the right way to reach the top of the mizbei'ach?

A popular answer to this question is that the commandment not to climb stairs to the altar is not merely a prohibition; it actually has a hidden lesson regarding the proper approach to spiritual growth. A staircase consists of many flat platforms; an object placed on any of these surfaces can rest peacefully, without rolling one way or the other. A ramp, on the other hand, is slanted all the way through; an object placed on it will roll downward, unless some external force continuously compels it upward. Likewise, the Torah is hinting to us that spiritual growth is like a ramp. One cannot be satisfied with his current spiritual status and rest on one of the "stairs" of complacency, content with his accomplishments. Rather, he must continuously strive to rise higher. Because when it comes to spiritual growth, if you are not ascending, then by definition you are automatically sliding back down the "ramp".

We should keep this message in mind whenever the Yetzer Hara tries to convince us that we're okay the way we are. Because no matter how good we are doing, we cannot afford to become complacent with what we have already accomplished. Of course, our past gains are extremely valuable, and we should be very proud of them; however, we should not use them as an excuse to allow ourselves to become stagnant in our Avodas Hashem. And when we continuously push ourselves up the spiritual ramp, then we can indeed climb higher and higher on the altar of Hashem.

Parshas Beshalach

This week's parsha chronicles Klal Yisroel's much-anticipated departure from Egypt. Pharaoh sends them out willingly at first, but then has yet another change of heart, and sends his troops after them. Trapped between the Egyptians on one side and the Red Sea on the other, the Jews realize the situation is grim. Fearing the worst, they cry out to Hashem - "vayitzaku B'nei Yisroel el Hashem". Rashi comments on this that Klal Yisroel resorted to the "profession of their forefathers" - tefillah - quoting pesukim about Avraham, Yitzchak, and Yaakov davening to Hashem (and composing Shachris, Mincha, and Maariv, respectively). But how is this a valid comparison? Klal Yisroel was crying out in great distress, fearing for their very lives; the Avos were merely davening to Hashem as part of their daily routine, not because they were in imminent danger. How can Rashi compare the two?

R' Yeruchem Levovitz answers that Rashi is giving us a deeper insight into how the Avos davened. We tend to think that we need Hashem's help when we are in distress more than we do when all is apparently well. A person who is on the operating table, for example, may appear to need Hashem's help more than a healthy person walking down the street. Nothing could be further from the truth, however: a person is in constant need of siyata d'shmaya. Even when all seems to be well, if Hashem were to remove his hashgacha for even one instant, chas veshalom, the results would be disastrous - a person's situation can change in the blink of an eye. The Avos realized this, and therefore they always davened with the fervor and sincerity of someone whose very life is hanging in the balance, much like Klal Yisroel in our parsha. And that is why Rashi saw fit to compare the two.

We should learn from the Avos how important tefillah is on a constant basis. We should not allow ourselves to fall into the trap of complacency - assuming that when things are doing well they will continue to do well indefinitely. Rather we should be in constant communication with our Father in Heaven, beseeching him to continue to shower us all with goodness and blessing.