Thursday, January 15, 2009

Parshas Shemos

In this week's parsha, the Torah tells us how Moshe Rabbeinu was born. Additionally, the Torah tells us how he got his name, Moshe: when Basya, the daughter of Pharaoh, saw his casket floating in the Nile, she reached out and pulled him from the water, naming him Moshe because "from the water he was drawn (meshisihu)". But Moshe was already three months old at that point - didn't he already have a name given to him by his parents? Indeed, the medrash tells us he had no less than ten names in total - so why, throughout the rest of the Torah, is he referred to only as Moshe, the name given to him by the daughter of Pharaoh? Why not by one of his more "Jewish" names?

Perhaps we can answer that the Torah wanted to refer to him by the name that best describes his essence. Basya's choice of a name for him came from her extraordinary and unparalleled action - namely, the act of selflessly pulling an endangered child from the midst of a raging river. With that heroic action, she imbued little Moshe with that special virtue of selflessness. Therefore, the Torah wanted to always refer to Moshe Rabbeinu by that name, so as to emphasize and remind us of his essential trait, embodied in that name: that of selflessly caring for other people, in his capacity as shepherd of Klal Yisroel.

From this we can learn the true definition of a Jewish leader. A true leader of Klal Yisroel is not someone who is in a position of power for his own purposes, for his own glory and advancement; rather, he must be someone who is capable of total selflessness and consideration of others. Only a shepherd who is capable of placing his flock before himself can be a truly effective leader of Hashem's people.

Inspired by the teachings of R' Chaim Shmulevitz.

Thursday, January 8, 2009

Parshas Vayechi

In this week's parsha, we learn how Yaakov Avinu gives his final blessings to his family, first to Yosef's children, then to his own sons. In blessing Ephraim and Menashe, Yaakov says "becha yivorech Yisroel", effectively setting Ephraim and Menashe as the benchmark for future brachos - whenever a Jewish father blesses his sons, the bracha will be that they be like Ephraim and Menashe. Why are they being rendered the "gold standard" by which to bless one's sons? The Avos and the Shevatim all preceeded them, and were all great tzaddikim, so why are they not the prototype for brachos?

The answer is that Yaakov was looking to establish the standard of an ideal Jewish nation. An ideal Jewish nation is not just a host of big tzaddikim. Rather, an ideal Jewish nation must have the unique attribute of Yosef's sons: peace. All of the other people mentioned in the Torah up to this point had either troublesome relationships with their brothers, or virtually no relationship at all. Ephraim and Menashe were the first pair of brothers who not only related to one another, but did so in peace and harmony. Even when Yaakov placed Ephraim before Menashe, Menashe did not get angry or jealous, but rather accepted his standing willingly. And that level of sholom is what Yaakov wanted as an integral part of all brachos for generations to come.

The lesson here is obvious: how important peace is to the Jewish nation. To many of us, peace is somewhat underrated. We realize that it is important, but we fail to realize how crucial it is to a being a Jew, how it is a critical part of our identity. Making peace with our fellow Jews is even more important than making peace with our enemies. And if we indeed do succeed in doing so, then we will be zoche to to the ultimate peace of "no nation shall raise a sword against another", with the arrival of Moshiach Tzidkeinu, speedily in our days.

Thursday, January 1, 2009

Parshas Vayigash

In this week's parsha, the Torah tells us how the Shevatim came to Yaakov Avinu and told him that Yosef was alive, and that he was a viceroy in Egypt. To their great surprise, however, he did not believe them, until he saw the wagons which Yosef had sent. Why would Yaakov not believe them? Surely something as serious as this is no joking matter! If the Shevatim make so bold a statement as to say that Yosef is alive, surely they are serious about what they are saying! And if they are indeed not to be believed, how did the sight of the wagons change anything? What did seeing the wagons tell Yaakov that the Shevatim themselves did not?

Perhaps we could suggest that Yaakov actually believed that Yosef was still physically alive; but he did not believe that he was still spiritually alive. When he heard that Yosef was a viceroy in Egypt, the very core of immorality, the Yosef that he knew was as good as dead to him. "Is this what I was hoping for?" he thought. "Were all my hopes and tefillos for my son to become an Egyptian viceroy, estranged from Torah and mitzvos?" It was only when he saw the wagons, and understood the hint that Yosef was sending him - the word "agolos" symbolizing that he still remembered the sugya of egla arufa, which was the last thing they learned together - that Yaakov realized that his favorite son was indeed still a fully religious Torah scholar, living the way his father always wanted him to. And that is why "vatechi ruach Yaakov" - the spirit of Yaakov was revived.

The lesson we learn from Yaakov Avinu is that as Torah Jews, we do not measure success by fame, fortune, or power. Despite how the gentile culture surrounding us may try to indoctrinate us, "my son the doctor", "my son the lawyer", or even "my son the senator", for that matter, is not what we strive and hope for. The definition of true Yiddish nachas is having children that follow the ways of Hashem, and establishing a home based on true Torah values above all else.

Thursday, December 25, 2008

Parshas Mikeitz

In this week's parsha, the Torah recounts the discussion between the Shevatim upon hearing that one of them must remain in Egypt as a hostage. The pasuk tells us how they admitted one to another that they were guilty for not listening to their brother Yosef's cries, and were therefore suffering their current predicament as punishment. Reuven then said to them, "did I not tell you not to sin against the child?" What was the purpose of Reuven's statement? The brothers had just admitted what they had done wrong - why did he feel the need to chastise them after they had already expressed their remorse?

Rav Yosef Dov Solovetchik answers that we must pay closer attention to the exact words of the pasuk in order to appreciate what was going on. In their statement of regret, the brothers specifically use the word "achinu", meaning brother; Reuven merely uses the ambiguous word "yeled", meaning child. The brothers were expressing regret for their actions based on the fact that Yosef was a member of their own family, and that to commit such a horrible crime against one's own flesh and blood is a terrible sin. What Reuven was trying to tell them was that they should not regret their actions solely on the basis of the victim being a family member; even if the victim was simply a "yeled", a random individual with no relation to them, what they did was still very wrong. Selling an innocent person into slavery is a grevious sin, no matter who he is. And that is why Reuven felt the need to make his statement: he wanted to drive home the point that an offense committed is just as serious even if the victim is not a close family member, and thus they must do teshuva accordingly.

As human beings, we have a tendency to be more caring and compassionate toward members of our own family, and toward people we can relate to. Someone who is "not our type" can often wind up being neglected, or even oppressed. We must learn from this week's parsha that no one should be written off just because they do not have a close connection with us - every person is special, and every yid must be treated with dignity and care, like members of our own family.

Thursday, December 18, 2008

Parshas Vayeishev

In this week's parsha, we learn about the strained relationship between Yosef and his brothers. The Torah tells us "v'hu na'ar", which Rashi elaborates as referring to the fact that he would busy himself with his hair. The difficulty with this is twofold: first of all, was Yosef really so materialistic that he would be so obsessed with his hair? And second of all, even if so, why use the word "na'ar" - meaning "child" - to describe his preoccupation with it?

The answer is that Yosef was not obsessed with the style or appearance of his hair; rather, Rashi is referring to the fact that he was constantly cutting it every day, and keeping it neat. Yosef knew from his dreams that he was destined to be king someday, and since the Rambam rules that a king must have his hair cut every single day so as to look presentable (as befits a king), Yosef was preparing himself for the role by starting to do so already while he was young.

So why does the pasuk use the word "na'ar", implying childishness? Because it was not his place to start acting like a king before his time came. A child does not understand how to wait for something; rather he demands instant gratification. So too, Yosef was acting like a king before he was supposed to, and thus the pasuk refers to his actions using the word "na'ar". There was no need for him to get an early start - when it is bashert for something to happen, it will happen, even on its own. Indeed, when his time finally did come, everything fell into place on its own - Pharoah had him removed from the dungeon and ordered that his hair be cut for him, without any intervention by Yosef himself.

There are times in life when we think we see ahead of time the path that Hashem has in mind for us, and we attempt to "jump the gun" and pursue it, only to be disappointed when things don't work out quite as we expected. We must learn from this week's parsha that everything has its time and place. Hashem has in mind exactly what will happen to us and exactly what we will get, and there is no need for us to try to take matters into our own hands. When the time is ripe, Hashem will orchestrate everything perfectly. All we have to do is wait patiently - and daven.

Thursday, December 11, 2008

Parshas Vayishlach

In this week's parsha, the Torah tells us how Yaakov sent a message to Esav, hoping to stave off an impending conflict. In his message, he tells Esav "I have acquired 'shor' and 'chamor'", using the singular loshon for "ox" and "donkey". Rashi explains that it is "derech eretz" to refer to many units of livestock in the singular form. But to refer to it as "derech eretz" implies that it is actually somehow more befitting than using the plural form. What is so special about using the singular form?

R' Moshe Feinstein answers that it is because it is important not to be proud of one's fortune as a whole, but rather to appreciate each individual unit. Each animal in one's possesion is a reason to be thankful to Hashem for the goodness He has bestowed upon him; all the more so when one has an entire herd. And that is why Yaakov used the singular form of "shor" and "chamor" - to show that he appreciated each and every possesion as an individual bracha from Hashem.

We can learn from here an important lesson about the significance of each individual. There is no "herd mentality" in Klal Yisroel; not only is every possesion a unique blessing, but every individual is important in his own right as well. Klal Yisroel is the flock of Hakadosh Baruch Hu, and each and every one of us receives the same loving care and devotion from Him as if we were the only one.

Thursday, December 4, 2008

Parshas Vayeitzei

This week's parsha starts by telling us how Yaakov departed from Be'er Sheva, heading for Charan. Rashi comments on this that the departure of a tzaddik from a place has a significant impact - the spiritual shine of the place is depleted. The question is, why did Rashi wait until Yaakov to tell us about this phenomenon? Why didn't Rashi tell us about the impact made on various places when Avraham or Yitzchak left them?

The answer is because by Avraham and Yitzchak, that their departure caused an impact was obvious - being the outgoing kiruv personalities that they were, everyone would notice the decrease in kedusha when they left. Yaakov, however, was a "yoshev ohalim" - a quiet, unassuming person - and thus one might have thought that he didn't make much of an impression when he left. That is why Rashi tells us that quite the contrary - the limud hatorah of a tzaddik like Yaakov Avinu is of such significance, that even though outwardly it may not seem impressive, nevertheless it has a tremendous effect on the spirituality of his surroundings.

Likewise, we must learn from here how choshuv an atmosphere of Torah is. Even if one is not actually learning in a yeshiva, by living in a Torah community and associating oneself with Torah scholars, one can benefit from the special aura that the Torah brings. By supporting Torah institutions and talmidei chachamim, one gains a share in the special light that is characteristic of the Torah and its followers.