A Letter to my Son on his Bar Mitzvah

 Dear Eitan,

As you know, I am fortunate to attend more brisses than the average Jew. Every once in a while I will attend a bris at which the father of the baby will note the baby's future Bar Mitzvah Parsha and will then connect that Parsha to the bris in some way. I wish I had thought of doing that for my sons’ bris. At the time I was just glad that I remembered the name that your mother and I had decided upon. At your bris I spoke about your name. As you know your middle name, Chaim, is named for your maternal Great-grandfather, Chaim Yeager. Zayde Chaim valued above all his family and his relationship with Hashem. A survivor of the Holocaust, Zayde Chaim loved nothing more than to spend time with his family, to go to shul daily, and to recite Tehillim. Your first name, Eitan, is found about a dozen times throughout Tanach. Eitan is the author of Tehillim Chapter 89: Maskil L’Eitan Ha’Ezrachi. Some say that this Eitan is the person mentioned in Divrei Hayamim as a Levi with the creativity and faith necessary to help compose poems utilized by King David. Others identify Eitan HaEzrachi as Avraham Avinu. For the word Eitan means strength, courage (strength of character) and is a name associated with all three of the Avot. For example, the month of Tishrei is referred to as Yerach Ha’eitanim, the month of the strong, because in it all three of the patriarchs were born. When you were born your siblings wanted us to name you Yitzchak to round out the Avot Weinstock, since we already had a Yaakov and an Avraham. I tried to convince them then that since all of the Avot are referred to as Eitan, it’s as if you were named Yitzchak. They didn’t buy it. As you know, Eitan, we gave you a name associated with strength because before you were born the doctors informed us that while every baby is special and unique, your anatomy is more unique than most. (For instance, in order to listen to your heart the doctor has to put her stethoscope under your armpit.) Even the doctors were unsure of how this uniqueness would impact function. We chose to name you Eitan as a prayer that you would grow up to be strong physically, emotionally, spiritually and religiously. As we celebrate your Bar Mitzvah this Shabbat we thank Hashem for answering our prayer. At your bris I also mentioned that the events surrounding your birth taught us the importance of optimism and gratitude, two themes that you often hear me speak about in public (yes, in addition to the theme of Achdut). At your bris, on Yom Hatazmut 2012, I noted that It was no coincidence that the first declaration made by Eitan HaEzrachi in Tehillim 89 is: חַֽסְדֵּ֣י ה עוֹלָ֣ם אָשִׁ֑ירָה לְדֹ֥ר וָדֹ֓ר אוֹדִ֖יעַ אֱמוּנָֽתְךָ֣ בְּפִֽי: “I will sing of Hashem’s kindness forever, I will make Your faithfulness known to every generation.”

If I had looked up your Bar Mitzvah Parsha before your bris I would have added the following to my remarks: “In 13 years, Eitan Chaim’s Bar Mitzvah will fall out, B’Ezrat Hashem, on Parshat Vayikra - and everyone here today is invited to attend. The first pasuk of that Parsha is: וַיִּקְרָ֖א אֶל־משֶׁ֑ה וַיְדַבֵּ֤ר יָ-ה֙ אֵלָ֔יו מֵאֹ֥הֶל מוֹעֵ֖ד לֵאמֹֽר: “And He called to Moses, and the Lord spoke to him from the Tent of Meeting, saying..” This verse seems repetitive. If Hashem spoke to Moshe, then why must we be told that Hashem first called to Moshe? Rabbi Jonathan Sacks explained that the first word in this Parsha teaches us the concept of a calling. As Rabbi Sacks put it: “the choice of career or way of life (is) not just because you want to do it, or because it offers certain benefits, but because you feel summoned to it. You feel this is your meaning and mission in life, this is what you were placed on earth to do.” Rabbi Sacks suggested a definition for discovering our calling: “Where what we want to do meets what needs to be done, that is where God wants us to be.”

Eitan, since I missed the chance at your bris, I reference your Bar Mitzvah Parsha today and bless you that you continue to develop into a mensch and a Ben Torah and that you utilize all of the strengths that Hashem has blessed you with in order to find your calling and to answer that call.

Love,

Abba

Seeing the Forest of the Mishkan

 “And Betzalel, the son of Uri the son of Chur, of the tribe of Judah, did everything that Hashem had commanded Moshe.”

Rashi notes the unusual phrasing of this pasuk. It should say that Betzalel did all that Moshe commanded HIM. Or it should say that Betzalel did all that Hashem commanded HIM through Moshe. Instead it says that Betzalel did all that Hashem commanded Moshe. Rashi quotes the Gemara in Brachot that explains how Betzalel proved to Moshe his suitability for the job:

When Moshe gave Betzalel his instructions he told him to first build the Klei Hamishkan and then put together the curtains and beams that comprise the sanctuary itself. Betzalel refused on the grounds that an architect must first build the house and only then decorate the interior with furniture. Moshe was impressed with Betzalel’s refusal; in fact Hashem had commanded him to first build the Mishkan and then work on the utensils. So Betzalel defied Moshe, and in so doing fulfilled the Divine command that actually had been conveyed to Moshe.

Why did Moshe want to build the keilim before there was a location to store them? And what was this dispute really about?

According to the Midrash, at this time Betzalel was only 13 years old. Developmental psychologist will tell you that early adolescence is a time during which children test limits in a more sophisticated (almost adult) manner. They begin to demand answers to why questions, not just what and how. These two characteristics can help explain why Betzalel was adamant to build the Mishkan before the vessels, against the command of Moshe.

There’s a tremendous amount of detail involved in the building of the vessels of Mishkan, ie aron, menorah, shulchan. Moshe wanted to start with the more detailed and interesting aspects of construction. But before getting bogged down in details, it’s important to take a step back and ask: What is this all about? What am I doing here? What is my goal? Sometimes we are so focused on the details of a project or the rat race of day to day living, that we don’t take a step back to appreciate what it’s all about.

Betzalel understood this. At his age, it was at the forefront of his mind. He realized that before they built specific vessels, there needed to be a vision for the overall project. And so he worked first on building the general structure of the Mishkan. Only then did he turn his attention to the specific vessels, each with their own specifications, each with their own meaning and lessons.
Sometimes we get so bogged down in the details of life that we don’t have a chance to look at the big picture: What am I trying to accomplish? What are my goals? Why am I doing what I am doing? Betzalel the Bar Mitzvah boy understood the importance of addressing these issues. He understood that we must first define our goal. The purpose of the mishkan was to have sacred space in this world dedicated to G-dliness and Jewish unity. So he began his efforts on the actual sanctuary and then moved on to the individual components of that vision.

Betzalel taught us two important lessons: 1) Never lose sight of the big picture 2) and be prepared to reevaluate and refine that big picture on an ongoing basis. Betzalel’s approach was ultimately endorsed by Moshe; for he called him B’tzel Kel, “one who dwells in the shadow of God”. Betzalel’s approach was endorsed by G-d, his building project was successful, and our Parsha ends with God’s presence dwelling in the mishkan.

We too must do our best to be mindful of the big picture and make sure to revisit it on an ongoing basis. By doing so, we can also benefit from the blessing described as the culmination of the Mishkan construction: The Divine presence and Hashem’s blessings permeating our lives.

Vote Slate 5 in the World Zionist Congress Elections

Dear Friends:

Every five years, the World Zionist Organization (WZO), one of the most influential

organizations in the Jewish world, of which 30% is controlled by US Jewry, holds a

crucial election.

This election, which runs from March 10, through May 4, gives American Jews the

opportunity to vote for representatives in the World Zionist Congress. The number of

seats a slate receives directly impacts leadership decisions, policies, and the allocation

of over $1 billion annually toward Jewish education, aliyah, security, and other vital

causes.

We are proud to both be members of the National Board of RZA: Religious Zionists of

America, the US affiliate of Mizrachi. We are also proud to both be candidates on the

Orthodox Israel Coalition (OIC) slate seeking election to the World Zionist Congress.

We strongly encourage our members, and all Jews over age 18, to vote for Orthodox

Israel Coalition (OIC) Mizrachi, slate #5. Coalition partners include RZA-Mizrachi, YU,

OU, RCA, Amit, Bnei Akiva, NCYI, Touro University, and Sephardic organizations such

as Shvilim and UMJCA.

Your vote will ensure that our Religious Zionist voice is heard. An authentic Torah voice

of integration and unity: integration between Judaism and Zionism; Torah learning and

army service; between Torah u’Madda; and balancing Israel and Diaspora needs.

YOUR VOTE FOR OIC-MIZRACHI HELPS US STRENGTHEN ISRAEL AND

RELIGIOUS ZIONISM BY:

 Supporting our Chayalim and Milluim families 

 Rebuilding devastated Israeli communities 

 Bringing volunteer missions to Israel 

 Creating JLIC communities on campuses in the U.S and Israel

 Providing shlichim from Israel to American schools 

 Supporting Yeshivot & Midrashot financially & educationally 

 Providing Torah based Zionist Educational resources in Israel and abroad 

 Promoting Aliyah & Love for Israel 

 Fighting Antisemitism on campuses worldwide

 Building bridges to unite the Jewish People

All Jewish American residents who are 18 (by June 30, 2025) can vote. There is a voter

registration fee of $5.00. Go here to register and vote: www.voteoic.org

Please share this link with your family and friends.

We believe it is critical for our Religious Zionist community to vote for Slate 5 OIC

Mizrachi and to encourage our friends and family to do so as well.

Thank you,

Rabbi Yosef Weinstock & Lisa Baratz

Purim and Yom Kippurim

The Zohar suggests that there is a connection between the holiday of Purim and Yom Kippur, which in the Torah is called Yom HaKippurim. At first glance the two days are as different as can be. Yom Kippur is a solemn day of fasting, while Purim is a joyous day of feasting. Yet upon closer examination one will note a number of similarities. First, both holidays commemorate the drawing of lots. In Megillat Esther we read how Haman chose the date on which to annihilate the Jewish People by drawing lots. In the Torah we read how on Yom Kippur the Kohen Gadol would draw lots to determine the fate of the two identical goats: one would be offered LaHashem as a sacrifice on the Mizbeaich, while the other goat, La’Azazel, would be thrown off a cliff in the Judean wilderness. Second, both Purim and Yom Kippur are specially mentioned as being “forever” holidays. Midrash Mishlei teaches (9:1): “All of the holidays are to be nullified in the future but the days of Purim will not be nullified, as it is stated: “And these days of Purim will not be rescinded from the Jews.” (Esther 9:28).  Rabbi Elazar said: Also Yom Kippur will forever not be nullified, as it is stated, “And it will be to you for an everlasting statute to atone for the Children of Israel from all of their sins once a year.” (Vayikra 16:34). Perhaps this Midrash is teaching us that we will always need opportunities to feel God’s Presence in an acute and poignant way, like on Yom Kippur, but also in a more ambiguous and hidden way, such as in the Purim story. Lastly, both holidays focus on standing before a royal figure. In Megilat Esther we read how Esther risked her life by appearing before the king in his inner sanctum without an invitation. And Yom Kippur was the one day of the year on which the Kohen Gadol would enter into the inner sanctum of the Beit Hamikdash. The Kodesh Hakodoshim is understood to be the location in which the Presence of Hashem, the King of kings, was most imminently perceived. This royal connection between Purim and Yom Kippur is appreciated more in light of the tradition that while God’s name is nowhere in the Megillah, it is alluded to through every mention of “the king”. While on a literal level the king in the Megilah is Achashverosh, on a deeper level we are supposed to recognize the role that Hashem plays behind the scenes throughout the Purim story. The Talmud (Shabbat 88) teaches that since at Sinai the Jewish People accepted the Torah under a degree of duress, it was important for us to accept the Torah a second time- which is what happened in the Purim story and is alluded to in the Megilah by the words “kiymu v’’kiblu” “The Jews ordained and took upon themselves” which is understood to mean “the Jews ordained (on Purim) what they had already taken upon themselves (at Sinai).” Yom Kippur commemorates a second receiving of the Luchot. In this week’s Parsha we read how Moshe broke the first Luchot in response to the sin of the golden calf. 120 days later Moshe came down with the second set of tablets- on Yom Kippur. While the first Luchot were “written by God” the second were written by Moshe. Hashem is teaching us that if we want something to be permanent and to remain important to us, then we must invest our energies into it. This is also the lesson of Purim. Unlike most other holidays, where Hashem did most of the work and performed miracles, Purim commemorates a story in which human beings took the risks, took the initiative, and exhibit bravery and self-sacrifice. Purim and Yom Kippur are forever holidays because they both celebrate human effort and human initiative. Whether it is our relationships, our professions, our shul, or our Jewish identity, we love and treasure those things in which we invest and toil. 

Nosh a Hamantasch!

 Tosfot in Brachot (35a) write that there was a baked good eaten on Purim called “nilash” whose bracha was either Mezonot or Hamotzi. The Bach (16^th century) writes that baked items such as Nilash should only be eaten in the context of a bread meal to avoid the brachah question. However, the Bach writes that “Purim kreplach”, a sweet pastry filled with nuts, is definitely Mezonot. The Bach’s “Purim kreplach” are similar to what we call hamantaschen. The Taz (17^th century) describes hamantaschen as sweet pastries stuffed with seeds. The classic hamantasch was always filled with poppy seeds. Indeed, the very word “haman” can either refer to the wicked Haman or poppy seeds (mohn), and the Yiddish word “tash” means pocket. Thus, “hamantaschen” means “poppy-seed-filled pockets.” The bracha on the Taz’s hamantasch was definitely Mezonot. The Mishna Berurah (20^th century) suggests that hamantaschen must have evolved over time. In the Taz’s time they were a dessert food, while 200 years later, some were eating hamantaschen as the staple of a meal and its bracha was Hamotzi. There are a number of suggestions offered as to the relationship between hamantaschen and Purim. One suggestion is based on a Midrash that states that on the night that Achashverosh couldn’t sleep in Shushan, the 3 Avot also couldn’t sleep in Mearat Hamachpela in Chevron. The midrash is teaching us that the Avot are disturbed when the Jewish People are in potential or actual danger. In the merit of the Avot, Hama’s strength was weakened. Hamantasch is a contraction of the Hebrew words “Haman Tash” ie Haman was weakened. In Hebrew hamantaschen are called “Aznei Haman”, ie Haman’s ears. Some suggest that this alludes to the fact that while all other nations heard about the Jews’ exodus from Egypt and were impressed and afraid, Amalek (ancestor of Haman) were not impacted by what they heard, and they attacked Bnei Yisrael. Just as there is a custom to eat hamantaschen on Purim, there is also a custom to eat meat filled kreplach on Hoshana Rabbah and Erev Yom Kippur. Some have a custom to also eat kreplach on Purim. By both foods, the filling is hidden by the dough. Purim, Hoshana Rabbah and Erev Yom Kippur are considered auspicious days even though there are no restrictions on work on those days. It ends up that these three days are like kreplach and hamantaschen in that their goodness is hidden. On a related note, some suggest that we eat hamantaschen because, like the filling, the miracle of Purim is hidden. One can explain the events of the Purim story as purely coincidence and unfolding in a natural and normal fashion, without any Divine Intervention. In reality, Purim commemorates a major miracle and Hashem was behind the scenes the entire time. Sometimes we must get beyond the dough in our life to appreciate all of the good stuff that Hashem bestows upon us. Hamantaschen is a great example of food, tradition, history, Jewish law, and Jewish values all coming together in one delicious bite.

Enduring Lesson of the Upright Acacia

 One of the building materials of the Mishkan mentioned in Parshat Terumah is atzei shitim, acacia wood. Midrash Tanchuma explains that when Yaakov and his family moved to Egypt, he planted acacia trees. He told his family that one day in the future, after the Exodus from Egypt, the Jewish people would be commanded to build a Tabernacle that would require acacia wood. At that time they should use these trees. When Hashem commanded Moshe to build the Mishkan using acacia wood, God also told him that he should use the trees planted by Yaakov. This Midrash teaches us a number of important lessons. One lesson is the importance of “planting seeds” for the future. Had Yaakov not planted trees centuries earlier, the Jewish People would have had a more difficult time sourcing wood for the Mishkan. The Midrash takes this idea even further by explaining that these trees had even greater Yichus, pedigree. Yaakov got the seeds from trees planted by Avraham Avinu in Beer Sheva. The pasuk actually refers to the wood as (26:15) “Atzei Shittim Omdim” which literally means “upright acacia wood”. What does this mean and what is it meant to teach us? Rabbi Yaakov Kamenetsky explained this term by way of the Talmud in Sukkah (45b) in which Hashem commanded Moshe to utilize wood in the construction of the Mishkan that would last forever, ie it would never warp or rot. It would stand up to the test of time and exist forever. Moshe wondered how this was possible, when the status of the Mishkan depended not on anything Moshe did but on the worthiness of Bnei Yisrael. If the Jews were worthy, then the Mishkan would exist forever, but if they sinned then the Mishkan would be destroyed. The answer lies in the Yichus, the origins, of this wood. This wood traces itself back to the trees of Yaakov and Avraham Avinu. Any items and efforts embarked upon for a holy and noble purpose are guaranteed to last forever. This powerful idea helps to explain a passage in the Talmud (Baba Metzia 85b): Rabbi Chiya bragged that he ensures the perpetuity of Torah and Jewish life by creating Torah scrolls from scratch and teaching both the Written and Oral Torahs to students who then teach it to other students. “I go and sow flax seeds and twine nets with the flax, and then I hunt deer and feed their meat to orphans. Next I prepare parchment from their hides and I write the five books of the Torah on them. I go to a city and teach five children the five books, one book per child, and I teach six other children the six orders of the Mishna, and I say to them: Until I return and come here, read each other the Torah and teach each other the Mishna. This is how I act to ensure that the Torah will not be forgotten by the Jewish people.”  The question remains: How can Rabbi Chiya be 100% sure that his students, and their students after, will not become distanced from Torah? The answer is that while people might forget what they were taught, they will never forget what was done for them, nor how they were made to feel. Rabbi Chiya’s Torah would be remembered because it was accompanied by much care and effort. He didn’t merely teach his students; he made nets that were used to catch deer in order to use their hides to make scrolls of Torah. While he was at it, he donated the kosher deer meat to those less fortunate. The lesson of the upright acacia wood is that while we may forget lesson taught to us through words, we will never forget lessons taught to us through actions. 

Postscript to Matan Torah

 While Matan Torah is depicted in Parshat Yitro, the culmination of the Sinai experience is described in Parshat Mishpatim. As I process the news coming from Israel on Thursday, there are few aspects of the Postscript to Sinai that seem particularly poignant at this moment. First, it is only now in Mishpatim that we read how Bnai Yisrael responded to the Torah with “Naaseh V’Nishma”. The Midrash describes how impressed Hashem was with this response, so much so that He granted each Jew with “two crowns”, one for each of these commitments. The theology behind the commitment of “we will do and we will listen” is that as human beings we cannot possibly fully understand God’s laws. While we are encouraged to seek meaning and reasons behind the mitzvot, on a basic level we must commit to doing even if we do not necessarily understand all of the time. We call the reasons behind mitzvot “Ta’amim” which literally means taste or flavor. To use a food analogy Torah and Mitzvot are fundamentally nourishing to our souls. Not everything that’s good for us necessarily tastes good. And everyone has different senses of taste. Furthermore our sense of taste can differ over the course of our lifetime due to both external and internal factors, such as our health and our environment. While we should always seek to enjoy Jewish learning and Jewish learning, the foundation of our Jewish identity must be a commitment to Hashem in good times and less good times, when we understand what is happening and even when we don’t. “Naaseh V’Nishma” is similarly important for us to tap into when we are confronted with incomprehensible evil and sadness, some of the feelings many of us feel as the remains of innocent Israeli hostages were returned from Gaza after more than 500 days of captivity. We must mourn the losses, and we must remind the world that Hamas is barbaric and pure evil and must be totally annihilated. As we do that we also double down on the unbreakable relationship we have with Hashem and our unbreakable Jewish identity and pride in the Jewish People and the Jewish State of Israel. Second, between the depiction of Matan Torah in Yitro and the Postscript in Mishpatim, the Torah interrupts with dozens of commandments related to civil law and the proper functioning of society. I believe that this shift is meant to highlight to us the importance of Achdut. The experience of receiving the Torah was very lofty and spiritual. It was a very personal experience. While learning Torah can replicate that ethereal experience (and we should daily find ways to tap into that feeling), Living Torah finds expression in the messiness of dealing with real people, or navigating power imbalances, in how we treat our family – and our enemies. It finds expression in how we value compassion and justice and fairness, and in how we abhor cruelty and vanquish evil. While the bookends of Matan Torah are about our personal relationship with Hashem, the book itself is focused on our relationship with each other. The prerequisite for Matan Torah was Achdut, and the anticipated outcome of Matan Torah is Achdut. The first and most essential response to challenging times and to aspirations for a better future must also be Achdut 

Human Lessons of Divine Actions

 The Torah introduces the 10 Commandments in Parshat Yitro with the words (20:1): “וַיְדַבֵּ֣ר אֱ-לֹהִ֔ים אֵ֛ת "כׇּל־הַדְּבָרִ֥ים הָאֵ֖לֶּה לֵאמֹֽר׃   “God spoke all these words, saying.” Rashi quotes the Midrash that explains that Hashem first said all 10 Commandments in one utterance, and afterwards each commandment was articulated and commanded separately: “[This] teaches [us] that the Holy One, blessed be He, said the Ten Commandments in one utterance, something that is impossible for a human being to say [in a similar way]. If so, why does the Torah say again, “I am [the Lord, your God (verse 2)]” and “You shall have no…” (verse 3)? Because He later explained each statement [of the Ten Commandments] individually.” Why did Hashem utter all 10 Commandments at once if no human could understand that type of Divine expression? Rav Soloveitchik offered an explanation that suggests that the Midrash here is teaching us something about the nature of humans, more so than teaching us the nature of Hashem. This is an approach that Rav Soloveitchik utilized to explain another enigmatic Midrash earlier in the Torah. Midrash Rabba at the beginning of Bereishit claims that Hashem created and destroyed worlds before creating and settling in our universe. This is a difficult teaching to understand. We believe that God is perfect and He does not make mistakes. Why would the Midrash suggest that God needed a few tries before settling on our creation? There Rav Soloveitchik likewise explained that the Midrash is teaching us something about the human condition and not the nature of the Divine. The Midrash wants us to be comfortable with the notion of human failure and having to restart and try multiple times in order to succeed. If Hashem could scrap his initial efforts, regroup and try again, then certainly we can do so. When we fail and persevere we should not view that as regrettable but rather as an opportunity for us to emulate Hashem. Back to the 10 Commandments, Rav Soloveitchik notes that the first five commandments refer to Mitzvot Bein Adam LaMakom; they focus on our relationship with, and obligations towards, Hashem. (Yes, honoring our parents is fundamentally an expression of our relationship with God, and not with our fellow man.) Everyone understands that Mitzvot bein Adam L’Chaveiro are of Divine origin. However the second five commandments relate to interpersonal obligations, Mitzvot Bein Adam L’Chaveiro. At first glance these “rational” commandments may not seem to the modern reader to necessarily be of Divine origin. Even a modern atheist could agree to the value in not murdering, not stealing, not committing adultery, not lying, and not coveting. We think we understand these commandments outside of the framework of Torah and Kabalat Ol Malchut Shamayim (accepting the yoke of Heaven). The final five commandments appear to be rational attempts by any society to regulate and protect itself. After all, what kind of modern society would sanction murder? Upon closer examination we will note that there is much debate today even regarding murder. Abortion is one example, where some view it as murder while others view it as an elective medical procedure. (Judaism has a more nuanced [perspective, one that does not fit neatly into the “pro-life” and “pro-choice” camps in modern America.) Physician assistance suicide would be another example of an action that ends a person’s life yet has been legalized in some places. What about stand your ground laws? If someone trespasses into your home does that give you the right to confront the intruder with lethal force, or would that be murder? Our definitions of murder, theft, etc. are based on the Torah and not popular opinion. That is why, explained the Rav, why Hashem first spoke all of the 10 Commandments in one breath: to impress upon us that our observance of them all is based on their Divine origins. All of the mitzvoth are equally immutable. While popular norms may change and conventional wisdom may shift, our commitment to the binding nature of the 10 Commandments remains steadfast.  

Atzmot Yosef

In Parshat Beshalach we read how Moshe took Atzmot Yosef, the bones of Joseph, with him as Bnei Yisrael left Egypt. In Parshat Vayechi, Yosef himself uses that expression: “Take my Atzmot with you.” Why refer to Yosef’s remains as Atzmot?

The word Atzmot is related to the word Etzem, which means something that is essential, a defining quality. Yosef possessed essential qualities that made him a Tzaddik. These qualities were necessary for Bnei Yisrael to learn from and to take with them from Egypt and carry with them throughout their journeys. What is the Etzem of Yosef? Let me suggest 3 lessons we can learn from Yosef: First, Yosef is a proud Jew. He constantly sees God in his life, even though God never spoke to him directly. He experienced terrible trauma and challenges, yet views them as all part of God’s plan. Wherever he is he doesn’t spend time asking “why me?” Instead he asks “what now? What am I supposed to be doing under these circumstances?” In Potiphar’s house his task was to be a proud Ivri. In jail, his task was to interpret dreams for others. In Pharaoh’s court, it was to ease his family’s transition down to Egypt. People might have said Yosef was an object controlled by others- his brothers his masters, fate. Yet Yosef always found ways to express his freedom even under constraints. Even when we have very little control over what’s happening in our lives or in the world, there is always some degree of choice for us to make, even if it is the choice of how to react. Second, Yosef maintains an optimistic attitude. Yosef was way ahead of the curve when he tells his brothers Pakod Yifkod, that in the future Hashem will remember them and take them out of Egypt. Through this message Yosef provided hope and reassurance at a moment in time that the Jews didn’t even realize that they would need it. Yosef was a dreamer. Dreamers look at the world through aspirational eyes, not limited by what is but always thinking about what can be. In Parshat Vayechi (45:5) Yosef tells his frightened and contrite brothers “Do not be sad”. This was not merely advice directed at his brothers in that moment. Rather this is a mantra, a way of to view life that Yosef is sharing with Bnei Yisrael for all time. Do not be sad due to the ups and downs of life. Being sad saps our energy and does not allow us to focus on the opportunities that exist within each challenge. Yosef is not just forgiving his brothers, he’s providing them with the secret to resilience. Redirect energy you planned on using to worry and bemoan your fate, and channel it towards activities that are impactful and meaningful. Lastly, Yosef is a symbol of Jewish continuity. His personal story is one of survival against the odds. And Chazal expand on this theme. The Midrash describes in great detail how Moshe retrieved Yosef’s bones. According to one opinion his casket was sunk in the Nile River. According to one opinion Moshe pleaded with Yosef for his casket to float to the top. According to a second opinion Moshe threatened Yosef that if he didn’t float up, the Jews would leave Egypt without him. Taken together This Midrashic episode can teach us intergenerational interdependence. Younger generations need the earlier ones to ensure tradition. And the older generations need the younger ones to ensure the Jewish future. During his time in Egypt Yosef was both influenced by the image of his father that prevented him from sin, and took pride in knowing his great-grandchildren were living as Jews.

We know of many righteous men and women throughout Tanach and the Talmud. But only Yosef is honored with the attribution of Hatzaddik, The Righteous One. This unique title is a testament to the three qualities that he possessed: his Jewish pride and faith in Hashem, his optimism, and his appreciation for Jewish tradition and Jewish continuity. By emulating these traits of Yosef we share in the merit of taking Atzmot Yosef with us on our life journeys.

Hashem’s Tefillin

In Parshat Bo we are introduced to the mitzvah of tefillin. The Talmud (Brachot 6) teaches that Hashem wears tefilljn. The third of the 13 Principles of Faith enumerated by Maimonides is “I believe with full faith that the Creator does not have a body. Physical concepts do not apply to Him. There is nothing that resembles Him.” If Hashem doesn’t have a body, then what do the rabbis mean when they say that Hashem wears tefillin? Rav Kook explained that to understand this concept we must first explore the significance of the tefillin that humans wear. Throughout our lives we utilize our physical and intellectual abilities in order for us and our loved ones to survive and to thrive. On the most simple human level we strive to ensure the basics of life such as food and shelter. We hope to be able to provide additional opportunities and luxuries as well. We also may work hard to reach our goals and to achieve a sense of accomplishment. However, Rav Kook notes, life is not meant to be utilized exclusively to satisfy our material needs or to satisfy our ego. We are also supposed to utilize our abilities to live lives of morality and spirituality. We are meant to be seekers in pursuit of moral and spiritual growth. We are not only meant to survive in this world; we are also meant to be Avdei Hashem, servants of God. As an example, the Jewish perspective mandates that we utilize our physical and intellectual capacities to ensure that our fellow Jews have what they need as well. It emerges that our intellectual and physical abilities are supposed to be utilized on two planes: a baseline plane to address our material needs and an elevated utilization in pursuit of spiritual growth. Tefillin remind us of this second plane. Tefillin are worn on the arm and on the head to remind us that our physical and intellectual abilities can and must be used for spiritual purposes as well. Rav Kook goes on to explain that these two planes exist within the universe as well, and not just within each person. The universe operates based on las of nature. From a physical perspective the world runs based on biology, chemistry and physics. But there is also a higher dimension of existence, one that seeks to uplift humanity to a higher moral state. The imagery of God wearing tefllin, according to Rav Kook, is a metaphor for the universe’s spiritual yearnings. It portrays a universe that is guided by an inner drive for holiness and spiritual advance. The Talmud goes on to explain that just as our tefillin contain parchments upon which are written pesukim, so too Hashem’s tefillin contain verses that speak of the Jewish people and their unique mission, such as “Who is like Your people Israel, a unique nation in the world?” Since the metaphor of Hashem’s tefillin teaches us of the spiritual potential for growth that exists within the universe. Hashem’s tefillin contain pesukim about the uniqueness of the Jewish People because the vehicle by which the universe can reach an elevated moral status is through Am Yisrael. Our status as the Chosen People obligates us to be a Light onto The nations and model what it means to live lives of meaning and of spiritual fulfillment. 

Patience is a Virtue – and a Prerequisite for Redemption

The first five parshiyot of Sefer Shemot recount Am Yisrael’s beginnings as a nation, Yetziat Mitzrayim and Matan Torah. Of these first five parshiyot, we find stories of historical significance in four of them. In Shemot we are introduced to Am Yisrael and to Moshe Rabbeinu. In Bo we read about the Exodus from Egypt. In Beshalach we read about the splitting of the sea. Yitro recounts Matan Torah. The “odd parsha out” is Vaeira. There is no specific significant event in our parsha; just a number of events that will ultimately lead to the Exodus. Granted, some of those events are miraculous; but none of them are of singular significance like we find in the other four parshiyot. Rav Aharaon Lichtenstein suggested that the lesson of Parshat Vaeira lies precisely in the fact that there is no specific achievement contained within. We learn about the skills and attitudes that both Moshe and the people needed to develop and cultivate in order to be worthy of redemption. At the beginning of Vaeira we learn that Moshe’s message of redemption to Am Yisrael fell on deaf ears “לֹ֤א שָֽׁמְעוּ֙ אֶל־משֶׁ֔ה מִקֹּ֣צֶר ר֔וּחַ וּמֵֽעֲבֹדָ֖ה קָשָֽׁה” The people were unable to hear Moshe’s message of hope due to “kotzer ruach” and “avoda kasha”.  Different interpretations have been offered for the expressions "kotzer ruach" and "avoda kasha" and the connection between them. Rashbam makes an important comment: “But they did not listen to Moshe' – at this stage, even though they originally had faith, as it is written, 'And the people believed' (5:31), for they had thought that they would have rest from their hard labor, but now it had only become worse for them." The people ultimately rejected Moshe’s message because they quickly became disillusioned by the fact that they did not experience an immediate improvement in their condition. They were certainly inspired by the appearance of Moshe and his message of hope; he even used the code words for redemption of “Pakod Yifkod”. But then things got worse for the people before they got any better. As Rav Lichtenstein put it: “The nation, lacking any historical perspective, was impatient. The people did not understand that redemption is a long, slow process; they expected it to happen all at once. Since there was no visible progress, they were disappointed, and started to complain. This is the meaning of kotzer ruach.” It should not be surprising that Chazal attribute impatience to Moshe as well. The Talmud (Sanhedrin 111a) teaches how Hashem was frustrated with Moshe’s questioning, compared to the faith exhibited by the patriarchs: “The Holy One, blessed be He, said to Moshe: Alas for those who are gone, the likes of whom will not be seen again! For I appeared several times to Avraham, Yitzchak and Yaakov with the Name 'El Sha-dai,’ and they did not question My ways or ask Me, 'What is Your Name?' Vaeira tells the critical story of how Moshe and Bnei Yisrael learned patience. We are at the very beginning of a ceasefire-hostage release process. This moment evokes many different emotions. As Rav Lichtenstein notes: “The importance of Parshat Vaeira lies in the fact that it provides an answer to the problem of "impatience.” A reading of the parsha in its entirety shows how the process plays itself out and how God thinks of everything. Our parsha offers a sense of historical consciousness, and has much to teach us about the redemption that we have experienced in our own era.” 

Challenge the Status Quo

 Sefer Shemot tells the story of the Jewish People’s experience in Egypt. At first they were prosperous and comfortable, but over time they became enslaved and oppressed. It is in the context of this oppression that we meet two of Amram’s children: Miriam and Moshe. These two prophets ultimately lead the Jewish People out of Egypt. They are the two featured “singers” of Shirat Hayam, the song sung at the Red Sea at the time of the Exodus. Our introduction to these two great Jewish leaders is in Parshat Shemot, and they exhibit a common important trait, necessary for all leaders. They both challenge the status quo in an effort to make it better.

The Midrash tells us of Miriam’s activism. When she was a young girl, Pharaoh decreed that all Jewish male babies should be killed. In response, Jewish fathers, including Miriam’s, decided to cease having more children. Miriam challenged this status quo, and provocatively accused Jewish men of being worse than Pharaoh; for the Egyptian decree was directed at only Jewish boys, while the fathers’ decision negatively impacted the potential for both Jewish male and female children to be born. The Midrash concludes that Miriam’s argument was accepted, and her challenge to the status quo was vindicated. Among those who listened to Miriam was her father Amram, setting the stage for the birth of Moshe, who led the Jews out of Egyptian bondage.

Our introduction to Moshe in Parshat Shemot is also within the context of challenging the status quo. After being raised in Pharaoh’s home, Moshe “goes out to his brethren” and sees an Egyptian abusing a Jewish slave. He acts heroically and kills the Egyptian. Instead of being congratulated or thanked, Moshe’s efforts are met with suspicion and scorn. At this point Moshe realizes that the Jewish People are stuck in their mindset and it will be very difficult to challenge their status quo. It takes some time but by the end of Parshat Shemot we read how Moshe is ready to challenge the status quo in Egypt and enhance the Jewish People’s condition; ultimately leading to their redemption.

President Ronald Reagan said it well: “Status quo, you know, is Latin for 'the mess we're in'.” It’s important on a personal and communal level to occasionally stop and ask ourselves: why is it that we do what we are doing? Let us learn from these two great Jewish figures to effectively question the status quos of our lives in an attempt to better ourselves and our surroundings.

Be Like Yaakov: Have the Tough Conversations Before It’s Too Late

Although the last Parsha in Sefer Bereishit is named Vayechi (“and he lived”) the focus of the reading is on the death of Yaakov. Just as life is a process, so too is death. Yaakov teaches us that just as we prepare to live, it is also appropriate to prepare for death. In the Parsha we have no less than three episodes in a row where Yaakov prepares for his death by talking to his descendants. The Parsha opens with Yaakov beckoning Yosef and expressing his desire to be buried in Chevron. Yosef swears that he will make it happen, and Yaakov is relieved and grateful that this aspect of his final affairs has been put in order. We then read that sometime later Yosef is informed that Yaakov’s health has made a turn for the worse. Before Yaakov gets any weaker he wants to bless his grandsons Ephraim and Menashe, effectively elevating these grandsons to the same status as the tribes. Finally, Chapter 49 opens with Yaakov summoning his sons to his deathbed in order to share with them his last will and testament, i.e. his parting lessons and blessings to each of his sons.  It is clear that Yaakov did not wait until his dying day to discuss with his family his wishes for after his death. While Yaakov detailed his wishes regarding where to be buried, there are other “end of life” issues that people need to discuss with their families – before it’s too late. Another issue that needs to be discussed is a person’s wishes regarding end of life medical care. Last year we hosted Rabbi Shlomo Brody, Executive Director of Eimatai. Eimatai is an organization that encourages, facilitates, and provides resources to families regarding medical interventions at the end of a person’s life. People have very different opinions about the type of medical interventions they want to have when the prognosis is not good and doctors begin to run out of options. Jewish law expresses values and rules on this subject, and yet there is still diversity of opinions and flexibility within the Halacha. That’s why it’s important for a person to either execute an Advance Directive/ Health Care Proxy form – or at least have a conversation with your family to express your feelings and your wishes. The same is true regarding a person’s wishes regarding burial location. I once was approached by a young man whose father expressed his desire to be buried in Israel. The son was stressed because while the father expressed this wish, he had not made any arrangements with a cemetery or Chevra Kadisha in Israel that could fulfill those wishes. This son remained anxious about what he would do until his father told him that he bought a cemetery plot in the US. Has your family discussed issues related to end of life medical care, final arrangements, and wills/estates? These conversations can be uncomfortable, but they are important. It is similarly stressful, and sometimes divisive, if a parent doesn’t appoint a healthcare proxy, or at least share their feelings about end of life care, while they are still of sound mind and body. It can be disruptive and divisive if a person passes away without ever divulging anything regarding the division of his/her estate. The National Association of Chevra Kaddisha has designated this Shabbat for education and awareness regarding end of life issues. Below you will find some links that provide information and resources. There are forms that we can fill out: regarding Halachic Last Wills, Healthcare Proxies, and even information on composing an Ethical Will or Legacy Letter. More important than the paperwork is broaching the topics and opening the conversation. There is a tradition that if we emulate Yaakov and put our affairs in order in advance, then it is a segulah for a long life. Doing so is definitely a tremendous gift to our families who will be called on, hopefully after 120 years, to handle those issues.

Resources: https://nasck.org/initiatives/shabbos-vayechi/

https://www.ematai.org/

Young Israel of Hollywood section at South Florida Jewish Cemetery: https://www.southfloridajewishcemetery.org/ 

Jewish Continuity Depends on Gevurah

Vayigash begins with Yehuda approaching the viceroy of Egypt (whom we know to be Yosef) and asks the Viceroy to free Binyamin. The Midrash explains that only Yehuda stepped forward because this moment (on a level not understood by the brothers in real time) was a battle between Yosef and Yehuda regarding Jewish destiny; specifically would kingship, and ultimately Moshiach, come from Yosef or Yehuda? Rav Soloveitchik suggested that Yosef lost this battle to Yehuda when he lost his composure and revealed his identity to his brothers. Had Yosef maintained his composure and refused Yehuda’s request, then the brothers would have been forced to return to their father Yaakov without Binyamnin. Yaakov would have immediately rushed back to Egypt to plead on behalf of his youngest son. He would not have hesitated to bow before Yosef, just as he bowed before Eisav as an expression of appeasement. Yaakov’s bowing to Yosef would have been the fulfillment of Yosef’s dream, thereby securing his position of leadership over his brothers for the rest of history. That did not happen because Yosef could not hold back from revealing his identity to his brothers. As Rav Soloveitchik put it, “From then on, Joseph was not viceroy of Egypt but the talented lad of Jacob’s house. Who was going to prostrate himself before this Joseph? He lost the Kingdom. He was too gentle, too good, too fine. Jewish history took a different turn.” While the choice of Yehuda over Yosef as king was ultimately a Divine one, Rav Soloveitchik offered a novel approach, based on the origins of Yosef and Yehuda. Yosef was the son of Rachel, while Yehuda was the son of Leah. Yaakov loved Rachel and wanted to marry her. How could Rachel have agreed to participate in Lavan’s scheme to deceive Yaakov and have him marry Leah instead of her? The Rav suggested that the Jewish People are called upon to value two seemingly contradictory values. On the one hand Judaism embraces power. As he put it, “We have never endorsed the Christian claim that the meek will inherit the earth. Throughout the Bible, people fought for power, strength, and independence. Without power, one cannot be majestic and dignified.” At the same time, Judaism also values what Rav Soloveitchik calls “sacrificial action”. This is the willingness to forfeit one’s rights and restrain one’s power on behalf of a greater good or to benefit another person. Hashem exhibits both of these qualities. Gevurah is expressed through Hashem’s power; while Chesed is expressed when Hashem holds back that power. Leah personified the attribute of Gevurah. She symbolized the strength of Jewish character and the unshakable persistence, stubbornness, and tenacity of the Jew throughout history. Rachel personified Chesed. She lives for others and is willing to sacrifice for others. Yehuda is Leah’s son. He exhibits Gevurah. He acts with strength and alacrity and passion. Even when he makes mistakes, he does so in an assertive fashion. Yehuda is fearless, and according to the Rav he personifies dignity and majesty. Yosef is righteous. He never falls to sin, and he therefore never has to demonstrate the strength of rising after a fall. Whereas Yehuda is the master of his own destiny, Yosef is portrayed primarily as the victim of outside forces. Yosef does not exert himself, and this is most clearly seen when he reveals his identity to his brothers. Immediately after the reveal, Yosef makes sure to tell his brothers not to feel upset that they sold him into slavery (45:5). Only the son of Rachel could have demonstrated such self-sacrifice and Chesed as Yosef did at that moment. In a choice between Gevurah and Chesed, Hashem chose Gevurah as the critical quality for Jewish monarchy. While self-sacrifice is a noble value for individuals, the Jewish king must exhibit Gevurah. He must be like a lion and act with alacrity to protect and serve the Jewish People. Since October 7, 2023, we have gained a new appreciation for this teaching of Rav Soloveitchik. While there is a time and place for accommodation and self-sacrifice, the task at hand today is to relate to our Jewish identity and our Jewish mission with a renewed and urgent sense of Gevurah.