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Parshat Bamidbar 2013

The book of Bamidbar, which we have just begun, is colloquially referred to as “Numbers.” The translation of the word is obviously off base, as the word bamidbar in Hebrew means “in the desert.” Yet it has taken on the connection with numbers, as the book has a focus on several censuses of the Jewish people.

When we peruse through the many numbers in Bamidbar with a discerning eye, one number is bound to catch our attention. As the tribes of Israel tend to average roughly fifty to seventy thousand per tribe, the tribe of Levi has only a tad over twenty thousand. Furthermore, the count of Levi includes all boys from the age of thirty days and older, while the count of the rest of the camp begins from the age of twenty YEARS and older! Therefore, the numbers of Levi are actually quite small for the demographic of adult males! Why was the tribe of Levi so small in comparison to their brethren?

Ramban explains that the question that is proposed is actually off base. The real question is why the numbers of the rest of the Jewish People are so large?! He explains that the verse in the Torah states that the more that the Egyptians persecuted and abused the slaves, the greater their numbers became. Ironically, the tribes that were involved in the backbreaking labor that was thrust upon them by Pharaoh became extremely populous, in spite of the labor, while the tribe of Levi, that was not enslaved, had a more natural population growth.

This phenomenon highlights the subjectivity of blessing. All too often, we look at others and question why we seem to be limited while others seem to be overwhelmed with abundance. All too often, a change of perspective makes the question melt away. We may not be financially rich compared to some of our peers, but are we really poor? Our children may not live up to every standard that we would hope, but are they really failures? The tribe of Levi was nowhere near the other tribes in terms of numbers, but were they really small? Realistic expectations and the realization of true standards of normalcy will often bring us comfort when confronted with the uncomfortable feelings of jealousy or lack of confidence. As the Mishnah in Avot states, “Who is rich, the one that is happy with his lot.” Happiness doesn’t need to be chased; it just needs to be embraced. May we all merit feeling that embrace throughout our lives.

Parshat Beha'alotecha 2013

When reading this week’s Torah portion, one may think for a moment that their Chumash is upside down. To make matters stranger, you may be partly correct. There are two letters in the Torah in this week’s portion that are upside down; two letter “Nun”s stand as brackets for the verses “When the Ark would journey, Moshe said, ‘Arise, Hashem, let Your enemies be scattered, and let those who hate You flee from before You.’ And when it rested, he would say, 'Reside tranquilly, Hashem, among the myriads and thousands of Israel’” (Bamidbar 10:35-36). The Gemara in Shabbat 115b explains that the verse doesn’t truly belong there, but was rather placed there as a divider for two accounts of punishment and to relieve the gloom that could result from uninterrupted negativity.

The Gemara explains that the second punishment occurred when the Jews complained that they were tired of the Manna and that they longed for the delicacies of Egypt once again. The punishment was that a fire rained down from Heaven and consumed the edges of the camp. The Gemara continues to explain that the first punishment was when the Torah relates that the Jewish People journeyed from Har Sinai following the receiving of the Torah. As Rabbi Chama explains, “In journeying away from Mt. Sinai, they acted like children running away from the schoolhouse.”

Upon further review, though, one will notice that  a sin is recounted as the first punishment, but there is no actual mention of a punishment. Rabbi Shimon Shwab explains that the punishment is in fact crystal clear. The impact and impression that could have been left with them from the moment of grand revelation was sadly no longer present. The opportunity was lost, and with that is the punishment of not living life with the uplifting inspiration that was there for the taking. If they could run away from the mountain, eager to move on to the next activity, one has to wonder if the moment was truly appreciated and experienced. Perhaps, as they were so accustomed to miracles, the miraculous nature of the Jews’ lives had become commonplace and unappreciated. The true punishment is when our eyes are not in tune with the gifts that are showered upon us.

As we read the summer Torah portions, we can easily ask, “How did the Jewish people constantly complain, rebel, and act ungrateful, after all that Hashem had done for them in the desert and by taking them from Egypt?” When I ask this question, I often try to remind myself that everyone’s life is seen only through their personal lenses—and no matter how fortunate or unfortunate our lot may objectively be, the ability is totally within our hands to see and recognize the good or to look past the bad.

Parshat Shelach 2013

There are few verses in the Torah that contain such clear reassurance and comfort as the opening words of this week’s Torah portion: “Shelach Lecha Anashim—send for you spies.” Like all good presents, though, to appreciate the contents we must first unwrap the gift. Hashem heard the request of the Jewish People that they wanted to send spies to perform a reconnaissance mission and prepare for the upcoming battles that were about to be waged as the Nation was to conquer the land. They requested spies as an added assurance, with the belief that the extra knowledge would aid them in their battles. Yet Hashem knew that all the effort was for naught, as the battles would be won on a spiritual plane with the hand of G-d in every struggle. The physical preparedness was useless if Hashem did not will their victory. The opposite would hold true as well—that victory would come regardless of their preparation, as this was the will of Hashem. The entire mission was useless, as they were trying to win a physical war in a spiritual reality.

Nevertheless, Hashem allowed the spies to be sent, with the clear understanding that the mission was “for you” and not “for Hashem.” The inference from this verse echoes a Gemara and Midrash that Hashem was clarifying that this entire mission was not His idea and was not being done with His blessing, but that He would allow it and would not interfere. After this understanding of the verse has been explained, one could easily argue that the verse is anything but comforting and reassuring. We see our frailties so clearly. The nation collectively requested that the spies leave, even though this was against the wishes of Hashem, and yet Hashem did not stop them. Wouldn’t we prefer a reality in which Hashem would help us before we hurt ourselves with our inappropriate decisions?

Decision-making is a difficult onus that we all deal with on a daily basis. The Jews in the desert had a difficult decision to make, and the eventual slip-up had disastrous consequences. This reality can cause us today, as well, to freeze when important decisions are upon us. Yet Hashem stated clearly in the Midrash and the Gemara that this was their decision and not His will. If they would have followed His will, using information that was attainable, the decision would not have been so difficult. Only because of their trailblazing decision-making process did they run into distress.

We, as well, are constantly faced with decisions that may not be as difficult as they seem. The answer is right in the Torah, and if we follow the directives that are placed before us, we will be successful. If we veer and decide to make our decisions based on other considerations, our success cannot be guaranteed. May we always merit making the proper decisions and be blessed with the blessings that come hand in hand with following the Torah.

Parshat Korach 2013

Step 1—Think of a terrible memory.

Step 2—Pinpoint an object that most closely relates to that memory.

Step 3—Place that object in a prominent place in your home to remind you of that memory constantly.  

Step 4—Live a happy life.

Hashem seems to use the above steps to remedy the ill effects of the rebellion of Korach and his cohorts. When one examines the story carefully, he will notice that Hashem instructs Moshe to gather the very fire-pans used by the 250 dissenters and fashion them into a covering that would be used on the Altar in the Tabernacle. This covering would serve as a memorial to later generations regarding the sins of Korach and his followers and ensure that no one would stray down that terrible path in the future. Yet it is difficult to understand why these “treife” fire-pans were to receive such important placement in the service. After all, the covering of the Altar would be better made from the purest of materials, free from any vestige or reminder of the rebellion of Korach!

A possible explanation may be found by carefully examining the motivations of those involved in the revolution. Their ultimate motivation was to be more involved in the Holy acts of the Tabernacle. They were trying to connect to Hashem in inappropriate ways, yet they were attempting to connect to Hashem.
Pirkei Avot teaches us that the wise individual is the one that learns from every person. The covering of the Altar may have been repulsive to some, as it was a reminder of a very sad and disheartening chapter in our national history, yet there is still much to learn from the mistakes and merits of those involved. We must be recognize of the pitfalls of jealousy and abuse of power, but we also must be reminded of Korach’s desire to connect with Hashem. He and his group paid a dear price for overstepping the bounds of appropriateness, but at the very least their hearts were directed in a good direction. The covering of the Altar is not only a reminder of their sins but an opportunity to rethink how we engage with others whose actions may clash with our value systems, yet have their hearts in a good place.

Parshat Chukat 2013

The bookends of the Jews’ sojourning experience through the desert ironically point to a common denominator, that of song. One could argue that the first true freedom that the Jewish People experience followed the Egyptians drowning in the Sea of Reeds, and the overwhelming emotions that followed led to song. Yet a very different type of song is related in this week’s Parsha. The Jews sing praise to Hashem for the water that came from the be’er, the well. At the culmination of forty years in the desert, Miriam passes away and the water from the well ceases to produce water. After the Jews complain to Moshe, water is then restored and returned. At this point, the Jews sing the song of “Ahli Be’er” to Hashem, in appreciation of the water. Ironically, the miracle of the water spewing from a place unattached to a water source was never truly appreciated by the Jewish People. Only after losing this miracle for a short time did the Jewish People recognize the gift that they had enjoyed for the last forty years.

Similarly, although the be’er was always attributed to Miriam, only after she passed away was her presence truly appreciated. It is human nature to overlook the efforts of others. Once their efforts cease, or the person passes away, do we realize how indebted and grateful we should have always been for all that they had done. A proper eulogy is certainly appropriate to recognize one’s achievements and sacrifices, but a face to face thank you when they are alive is a thank you that they can experience and appreciate as well.

In our Shul, we have numerous volunteers who do so much behind the scenes and make sure that our needs are tended to. Gabbaim, Torah readers, Chazzanim, regular Minyan-goers, Board members, the Candy Man, those that prepare Kiddush and Seudah Shelsihit, the clean-up crew, the Chulent crew, those that maintain the Shul’s finances or prepare the newsletter, the Youth Director and the youth group leaders, the Teen Coordinator, and so many others—they can easily be taken for granted. Pull away any of the above-mentioned pieces and everyone would notice the gaping hole left in their place.

Taking a moment every so often to thank someone for his or her ongoing efforts is a great way to show our appreciation and to let them know that their efforts are noticed. It also transforms us all into grateful people, a trait that has immeasurable gains for the individual and those around them. So go out and find someone to thank—you won’t regret it!

The Three Weeks 2013

Summer is a time of sunshine, optimism, and good feelings. We have pushed through the cold days of winter, enjoyed the cool days of spring, and now the summer is the time to enjoy the days that are filled with the most potential, as they are the longest days of the year.

The Jewish calendar, though, presents an interesting challenge and dichotomy. Throughout Jewish history, the summer has been a time packed with widespread tragedy and distress. Excluding Yom Kippur, which the rabbis of the Gemara actually classify as one of the happiest days of the year, and Taanit Esther, in which no tragedy truly affected the Jewish people, the calendar has four public fasts remaining in the calendar, three of which fall in the summer. These three fasts, Shiva Asar B’Tmmuz, Tisha B’av, and Tzom Gedalia, all commemorate tragedies that occurred to the Jewish people on account of our misdeeds. This is a time that unfortunately is also designated for reflecting on the mistakes and transgressions of previous generations, and considering how we can ensure that these errors are left in the annals of history and not relived in our day and age.

When one commemorates the loss of a parent, spouse, sibling, or child, the pain is very palpable. Yet when the Yartzheit of a great rabbi from several generations in the past arrives, there is seldom feelings of pain associated with the day. The Gemara explains that the period of the Three Weeks is a time of sadness and mourning, not simply reflection and introspection. This is an entirely separate additional purpose to the structure of the Three Weeks. Yet the Gemara recognizes that the mourning of the Three Weeks is connected to a far-off series of events in history, as opposed to the fresh, personal, and entirely subjective manner in which people mourn the loss of a close relative, similar to the Yartzheit of someone such as a great rabbi from a previous generation. The Gemara classifies the mourning of the three weeks as a time of Aveilut Yeshana, old mourning, as opposed to mourning the loss of a relative, which is classified as Aveilut Chadasha, new mourning. How can one mourn with heartfelt feelings of loss, when we never experienced that which is gone? How can the mourning of a Three Weeks ever compare and be meaningful when compared to a situation of Aveilut Chadasha?

The answer to this very difficult question can be found in the contrast highlighted in the Halachot of Aveilut Chadasha and Aveilut Yeshana. The structure was designed so that a mourner experiencing the loss of a loved one is taken from the initial shock and intense pain, and over the course of thirty days and then twelve months is eased into the new reality of coping without this person in their life. The community bonds together and offers support to the mourner from the time of the funeral and for the seven days of Shiva. This is a time that support is critical, as the mourner's life has changed forever. Yet, as time passes, the mourner hopefully learns to cope with the new reality, and the intense support that is offered during Shiva is no longer deemed necessary.

Exactly the opposite happens during the Three Weeks. The day of intense loss, Tisha B’av, is not followed with mourning, but rather preceded by Three Weeks of preparation for mourning. The mourning is unnatural, and therefore is preceded by three weeks that gradually escalate in intensity and sadness. The day of Tisha B’av commemorates a tragedy disconnected to our lives. It has little chance of being meaningful without a period of education, reflection, and introspection preceding its arrival. To study and observe the Halachot of the Three Weeks is, in essence, to give us and Tisha B’av a chance to internally connect. Only once the connection is made, and the loss is heartfelt, can the opportunity to mend the fences with Hashem be presented and realized.

Sun, May 19 2024 11 Iyyar 5784