Rabbi Pinchos Lipschutz

By Rabbi Pinchos Lipschutz

It is difficult to encapsulate the life of an adam gadol in a few words. He was exceedingly weak for the last few months of his life, yet Klal Yisroeldavened that he be given strength and the tefilloswere answered. Every time he recuperated from illness, legions of people rejoiced. Born 104 years ago in the city of Brisk, a century of Torah and gadlus came to end on Erev Chanukah.

Rav Aharon Leib Shteinman was a throwback to a bygone world. He derived no enjoyment from olam hazeh. His life was Torah. His being was Torah. He lived a simple life in a simple apartment. All he did all day was learn Torah, perform mitzvos and help people. What negius can a person like that have? It is no wonder that he had siyata diShmaya.

The gentle man who had lived his life far from the headlines was propelled into a leadership position after Rav Elazar Menachem Man Shach felt that he was unable to continue carrying the burdens of Klal Yisroel.

Rav Aharon Leib sought no earthly pleasures for himself. He ate the most meager portions of food and sat on chairs without backs. He was a man who literally spent all his time learning Torah and providing guidance for his followers.

During his American trip, he undertook such strenuous travel for someone his age, and people were trying to figure out his agenda.

His agenda was to strengthen Torah. His agenda was to support people who are learning Torah. His agenda was to support people who lead a Torah lifestyle.

People were unused to such purity of intention. They looked at him like they were observing a malach.

Just by beholding him, they got chizuk. Just by hearing him speak, they were inspired. And those who hadthe privilege to speak to him for a few minutes walked away with even greater chizuk.

It was inspiring to be in the company a person and realizing that at his age, he left his home for a two-week trip to strange cities solely to be mechazeik fellow Jews. How uplifting it was to stand before a man who was an exalted eved Hashem.

When observed in the midst of the hubbub surrounding him, and considering the fact that he was oblivious to the spotlight, it was obvious that he was an exceedingly modest person. He taught us all that it really is possible to sit in your corner and learn Torah all day, and to live a life without luxuries and be content.

My grandfather, Rav Leizer Levin zt”l, was a talmid of the Chofetz Chaimzt”l. There is some dispute over what the Chofetz Chaim looked like and if he indeed bore any resemblance to the popular, widely distributed picture of him. I once asked my grandfather what his rebbi looked like - meaning, did he look like the picture? It was many years ago. I was very young, my language skills were poor, and my zaide didn’t understand that I was asking about that picture. It didn’t matter, because his answer taught a great lesson nonetheless.

I still remember his grandfatherly words as he gently held my hand, patted my cheek, and said, “Az men hut nit gevust hut ehr oisgezen vi ah poshuter Yid un men hut gornit gekent zen, uber az men hut gevust, hut men gekent zen alles. If you didn’t know who he was, he looked to you like a simple Jew, but if you knew who he was, then you were able to see that every action he did was special.”

Those words rang in my ears as I observed Rav Aharon Leib prior to the Shabbos he spent in Monsey. I was allowed into the small guest house where he was staying to ask him some shailos. I walked in behind him, and as he passed the small kitchen, I noticed that he stopped to look at the six small Israeli lachmaniyot(bread rolls) on the kitchen table. He turned to his attendant and asked what they were for. The answer was that they were for “lechem mishnah heint bei nacht.”

The aged rosh yeshiva, who had thousands buzzing about him wherever he turned in this country, turned to the attendant and asked, “Uber vos darft men azoi fil? Why do we need so many?” The attendant answered that they were there in case others would join them for the meal.

They moved into the next room, where another man approached the rosh yeshiva to ask about something that baffled him.

When Rav Aharon Leib was visiting the Skverer Rebbe, a bowl of fruit was set before him on the rebbe’s table, and as is customary, the rosh yeshiva was asked to make a brocha. He made a ha’eitz and, to the surprise of those observing him, ate only half of a grape. “What’s the reason for this?” they asked him.

Rav Aharon Leib answered that a grape is a beryah, and eating a whole grape presents a problem regarding a brocha acharona. So he only ate half of the grape.

The conversations were simple and straightforward, not meant to impress anyone. They were beautiful in their simplicity. He was really wondering why they needed so many lachmaniyot. He had a bowlful of mouth-watering fruit set in front of him and all he ate was half a grape.

“Az men hut nit gevust hut ehr oisgezen vi ah poshuter Yid un men hut gornit gekent zen, uber az men hut gevust, hut men gekent zen alles.”

And I thought to myself: Why did he come? And suddenly, I understood. He came to show us that it is possible to lead a life of pashtus, of prishus, of kedusha, and of shalom. He demonstrates the power of these values to command the respect and allegiance of tens of thousands of Jews.

The person for whom thousands had lined the streets to welcome him here was wondering why he needed six lachmaniyot. A person who had no desire to eat more than half a grape had so much to teach us without even saying a word.

He traveled to America and other countries for the same reason the Chofetz Chaim wrote that were he able to do so, he would fly any distance in order to save Jewish children. He came because people visited him in his humble apartment in a nondescript building in Bnei Brak with an important message. As they walked in, he was seated on a stool at his old table, poring over piles of seforim in a room that hadn’t been painted since he moved there decades prior. His visitors told him that he could be mechazeik the Jews of America.

He came here because he took the words of the Chofetz Chaimliterally. He came because he believed the petitioners who felt that we can all benefit from being in the daled amos of an adam gadol who has as little benefit from this world as is humanly possible.

And he came because he cared about us. If the Ribono Shel Olamkept him alive for 91 years and gave him the required strength, he told someone, he felt that he had an obligation to reach out and strengthen the Ribono Shel Olam’s children. He came because just as he constantly prodded others to accomplish more, he pushed himself to do more.

The following incident shines a light on the nobility of the leader Klal Yisroel has lost.

The Rechovot branch of Lev L’Achim under the leadership of Rav Zvi Schwartz had grown to encompass a plethora of programs. The central location, where shiurimand learning take place at all hours of the day and night, was so crowded that people had to reserve seats in the bais medrash.

The Rechovot municipality, in recognition of Rav Schwartz’s devotion to the people of the city, granted him a plot of land for a community center for L’ev L’Achim. Construction of the building’s frame cost close to $500,000, at least half of which was donated by local baalei teshuvah in gratitude to Rav Schwartz.

However, the Shinui party, in a joint effort with the Reform movement, filed a suit in the Supreme Court challenging Rechovot’s right to allocate the land. The court, despite having no jurisdiction in municipal matters, overturned the decision and halted construction.

Furious at the Supreme Court’s interference, the lawyer for the Rechovot municipality came up with a plan to counteract it. The plan was for Rav Schwartz to sue the city for breaking its commitment to him and causing him a financial loss. The city would “lose” the case and then have to reimburse him. Lacking the funds to meet its obligations, the municipality would resort to a legalism whereby land is used to pay a debt when the municipality lacks the funds. Thus, the municipality would turn over to Rav Schwartz the land originally intended for the Lev L’Achim center and construction could go forward.

The brilliance of the plan pleased the city officials, who were intent on allowing Lev L’Achim to resume construction. But the plan had a hitch. Rav Schwartz doesn’t just blindly follow the law. He answers to a higher authority. Much to the consternation of the Rechovot City Board, Rav Aharon Leib ruled against their plan of action for fear that it would result in a chillul Hashem. He said that the Left would showcase the shpiel as an example of religious subterfuge.

“Even if it will delay construction, we had best pursue a different route,” Rav Aharon Leib told him.

Such was his dedication to the truth and his concern for the repercussions of any action. Rav Schwartz desperately needed a building, but it would have to wait until it could be built properly without any hint of scandal, sheker, or chillul Hashem.

A prominent rovwas speaking to Rav Aharon Leib, when the coordinator of a large gemach entered the small room. The rov, wishing to encourage the askan, introduced him to Rav Aharon Leib. “The rosh yeshiva should know that this man is a tzaddik. He lends a lot of money to many talmidei chachomim.”

Rav Aharon Leib reacted immediately. “I hope you don’t have any money from him on loan,” he said, “because, in that case, the compliment you just gave him is a form of ribbis devorim.”

The rovmarveled at Rav Aharon Leib’s response, repeating it again and again. “I am an active dayan,” he said, “experienced in financial dinei Torah, but I wasn’t sharp enough to sense that my comment could be a violation of halacha. Yet, the aged tzaddik, who is attuned to perfect din, felt it right away.”

When people followed the instructions of someone like Rav Aharon Leib, they were not merely agreeing with his ideas. They were expressing something much deeper. They were acknowledging that his instincts, thought processes, and reactions were rooted in Torah. They knew that his mind was attuned to the Torah’s will, and therefore his vision was refined enough to see beyond what the average person saw.

Being blessed with leaders of this stature is the reason our nation is still here after so many challenge-filled centuries of exile.

I once traveled to Eretz Yisroel for the Yom Tov of Shavuos and went to the KoselFriday morning, Rosh ChodeshSivan, the day after I arrived. Still jet-lagged but eager to daven at the Kosel, from where the Shechinah has never departed since the time of the Botei Mikdosh, I awoke early and headed there for Shacharis kevosikin.

Thousands of people were present at the Kosel that morning. Hundreds had come to daven, but many more had arrived to fulfill the wishes of Rav Aharon Leib and Rav Ovadiah Yosef.

An antagonistic, provocative group of women had just received a long-awaited favorable ruling from a district court. The court ruled that for women to form a minyan and pray with tallis and tefillin at the Kosel is a legitimate expression of their customs and is neither a provocation nor a departure from the “minhag hamakom.”

The women hold their prayer meetings at the Kosel every Rosh Chodesh. Until the ruling, the meetings were illegal and police arrested participants, leading them away amidst minimal fanfare. That Rosh ChodeshSivan was the first time the provocations went on with the imprimatur of the state. That time, the women would be protected, while the offended traditionalists expressing their consternation over the defilement of Judaism’s holiest site would be the targets of police wrath.

Rav Aharon Leib and Rav Yosef urged high school and seminary girls to be at the Kosel by 6:30 a.m., when the Women of the Wall, as they call themselves, were scheduled to hold their mock-service. The high school and seminary girls were to peacefully demonstrate by their dignified presence that the overwhelming majority of people who frequent the Kosel and respect its minhagim are opposed to the attention-seeking feminists.

Present that morning at the Kosel were not only teenage girls, but women and men of all ages. As the appointed time arrived, boys at the Koselbegan singing to drown out any superfluous sounds sure to be raised. Their gambit didn’t last long, as the media and police began arriving in droves, seemingly anxious to provoke a spectacle they could use to mock the traditionalists. By and large, they failed.

The sights and sounds that morning left me with mixed feelings. On the one hand, they demonstrated the growth and power of the frum community - the number of people who treasure kedushas haMikdoshenough to arise before dawn to davenat that location and the number of young people prepared to forgo sleep to follow the call of gedolim. It was a beautiful sight to see so many people daveningat the Kosel. At the same time, the presence of those poor, misguided souls was a depiction of the kulturkampf in that country.

Such was the concern and foresight of Rav Aharon Leib to all matters confronting Klal Yisroel,and such was the reverence of Am Yisroelfor him. His every word was followed.

Rav Aharon Leib would recount that Rav Chaim Soloveitchik asked children riddles to sharpen their minds. He would tell them of a blind man who would raise one finger to signal that he wanted to eat. When he wanted to drink, he would raise two fingers. The great Rav Chaim would then ask the children what the blind man did when he wanted to eat and drink. The children – and most adults – wouldn’t realize that he said the man was blind. He didn’t say that he was dumb and unable to speak, so when he wanted to eat and drink, he would simply say so.

That was the aura in which Rav Aharon Leib was raised. From childhood on, he was always seeking to grow and become more proficient in Torah through properly learning and concentrating.

Some yungeleitwent to speak to Rav Aharon Leib. A member of their kollel was niftar, lo aleinu, and they wanted to be mekabelsomething in his memory. They had various ideas, but wanted the rosh yeshiva to suggest an appropriate kabbolah.

Rav Aharon Leib listened to their proposals. Then he spoke. “Those are all very nice ideas, but I think you should try something else. You live in a relatively new neighborhood, where people continuously move in and new buildings are constantly rising. I think that everyone in the kehillah should sign a letter being mekabel that no matter what, they will avoid neighborly disputes.

“Your upstairs neighbor might be doing construction and it will be very noisy for a few months. Your neighbor down the hall might close in his porch and obstruct your view. Instead of fighting, step back and contemplate the brocha that led to that construction. Think of a growing family that needs more room, or more space for an overworked mother, bringing menuchas hanefesh to another family. Thatkabbolah will be an eternal source of merit to your friend’s neshomah.”

Always thinking about other people, that was Rav Aharon Leib. His lessons should guide us for many years to come.

Rav Aharon Leib was once asked to give a mussar talk to a gathering of Bais Yaakov teachers.

“Me?” he reacted with surprise. “I should speak to them? I should give them mussar? These are women who are up late at night preparing their classes, then tending to their children early in the morning. When they finally dress and give their children breakfast and get them off to school, they hurry off to teach. Six hours later, after a long morning of teaching, answering, speaking and inspiring Yiddishe techter to Torah and yiras Shomayim, they rush home, where ‘di pitzkalech varten,’ the children eagerly wait for them. If they want to rest, the children don’t permit them to. Yes, they deserve chizuk, but I certainly can’t give them mussar.”

Such was his tremendous humility.

During the 2006 war, when a yeshiva in Haifa was unsure of whether to relocate as the city came under attack, they turned to Rav Aharon Leib for guidance. He responded by writing them a letter assuring them that anyone who stays in the yeshiva and learns will not be harmed, even as rockets continued falling in Haifa.

What an inspiring example of leadership in a time of crisis. He had the courage to give advice and the certainty that future events would confirm the wisdom of that guidance.

During the Gaza War, Lev L’Achim waged its own battle. Schools in the line of fire in the country’s southern region were closed, as the rocket-fire was fierce. Several intrepid Ashdod yungeleit traveled to Ashkelon and set up shop in a basement bomb shelter. They dispensed warmth, pizza and Torah. Local teenagers were so bored that they came and were intrigued. When the war ended and normal life resumed, the kids were still interested, so the yungeleitcontinued coming, creating a small afternoon bais medrash in Ashkelon.

Slowly, they had some real talmidim, and finally they finished a masechta with the secular teenagers. On Chanukah, the talmidim, accompanied by their Lev L’Achim rabbeim, went to celebrate the siyum at the home of Rav Aharon Leib. The aged gadol was very moved by the sight of the teenagers in his home, proclaiming, “Hadran aloch,” to the first masechtathey had learned.

As the siyumended, one of the boys asked Rav Aharon Leib for a brocha. He asked that the resistance of his parents to his Torah study weaken. “In fact,” he told the rosh yeshiva, “if they knew where I was now, they would be furious. I told them that I was going to play soccer.”

Rav Aharon Leib said to the boy, “You have answered a question of mine. Why, in Al Hanissim, do we thank Hashem for the milchamos? War is a necessary evil, as people get killed and hurt, and lives are destroyed. Why do we thank Hashem for the war, when, in fact, we should just be thanking Him for the nissim and niflaos?

“But now, I have a new understanding. It is for milchamos such as yours - the wars waged by those determined teenagers - that we thank Hashem!”

He cared for Klal Yisroel and loved Jews and Torah so much that he was joyous at such an occasion and learned a vital lesson from it.

Many of the nisyonosthat we face in our daily lives challenge us in the way we treat fellow Jews. Do we look down at other people or do we put ourselves in their shoes and respond compassionately? People who have power over others should consider how truly great individuals would respond to the nisyonos that they are facing. To carry forth our example, what would Rav Aharon Leib say if he were running a school and a person with a slightly different background applied for admittance?

The answer to that question is not a mystery. Several menahelim posed the question to him during one of his visits to America. He responded that had Avrohom Avinu come to register in their schools, he would not have been accepted. Despite the promise he radiated, they would have rejected him based on his father’s ineligibility to be a parent in their school.

The director of a chederin Beit Shemesh approached Rav Aharon Leib with a question. A current parent in the cheder remarried and wanted to enroll the children of his new wife in the school. The school rejected the new applicants because the hanhallahfeared that they didn’t completely meet the mosad’s criteria. When the father refused to back down from his insistence that the children be accepted, Rav Aharon Leib was approached by the school’s principal for guidance in dealing with this stubborn individual, who refused to accept the school’s decision.

Rav Aharon Leib was incredulous. He responded that it is gaavah to insist that you are better than the other person. To reject a child from a cheder for specious reasons is not a sign of greatness, but a sign of gaavah.

What a powerful message and what an important lesson.

Speaking at a kinnus to mark the completion of shivah for Rav Elazar Abuchatzeira who was killed by an intruder, Rav Aharon Leib remarked that a Jew who is desensitized to bein adam lachaveiro is capable of even bloodshed, Rachama litzlan. The rosh yeshiva traveled to Be’er Sheva to share this message. The second five dibros are bound with the first five, he said. Bein adam lachaveiro is as fundamental as bein adam laMakom.

“We are in the last generations before Moshiach's arrival,” said Rav Aharon Leib, “and we need to be extra careful with the honor of our friends. It's forbidden to humiliate another person. We have to be careful to protect the kavod of each other…to pay attention to this issue of bein adam lachaveiro so that such incidents shouldn't reoccur.”

May we be zoche to go in his ways, to try to emulate him, to abhor evil and machlokes, and to avoid kavod and ta’avos olam hazeh, as he did. May we merit to learn more, to be marbeh kevod Shomayim, and to do good without ulterior motives.

May the memory of Rav Aharon Leib remain with us. May his humble gaze inspire us. May his soft words punctuate our actions. And may his plea for greatness in Torah and emunahinspire us as we prepare the world for the coming of Moshiach tzidkeinu, bimeheirah biyomeinu.

By Rabbi Pinchos Lipschutz

Parenting is a big industry. People are unsure how to raise their children and turn to seminars and books to find guidance. Put the word “parenting” in the title of your book and you are practically guaranteed a bestseller.

In next week’s parsha, we see Yaakov Avinu lovingly praise, exhort and admonish his sons. Successful parenting requires those responses in measured doses. In order for life skills to be properly conveyed, children must be disciplined and taught respect, responsibility, fidelity to Torah and moral principles. The question is how that is best accomplished.

In this week’s parsha, we learned of the reunification of Yaakov and Yosef after a multi-year separation that began when Yosef was sold into slavery by his jealous brothers. Although the brothers told Yaakov that Yosef was killed by wild animals, Yaakov hoped that somehow they would meet again. As he struggled to maintain his dignity and fidelity in a foreign land, Yosef’s ability to remember his father’s love provided him with the strength to persevere.

The posuk (Bereishis 46:29) describes their meeting. Yosef traveled to Goshen, “vayeira eilov, and he appeared to him, fell on his shoulder, and wept.” Rashi explains that when the posuksays “vayeira eilov,” it means “nireh el oviv,” that Yosef appeared to his father.

The Sifsei Chachomim elaborates that when hunger forced Yaakov and his family to travel to Mitzrayim, he went directly to Goshen, the land Yosef had selected for him to live until the hunger would pass. When Yaakov arrived there, Yosef went to visit him. Thus, it was Yosef who was going to show himself to his father.

The posuk still needs elucidation. What does the Torah want us to learn from stressing that Yosef went to show himself to his father?

Perhaps we can explain that although Yaakov was happy that his son had survived the years of separation, he might have feared that Yosef had assimilated into the Mitzri culture. There was also the chance that the great honor and power involved with being a ruler of the land had affected Yosef. Yaakov would have been correct in fearing that the angelic son he remembered and loved changed so much that he couldn’t be recognized.

Yosef respectfully traveled to Goshen to appear before Yaakov to show him that he was the same Yosef Hatzaddik his father remembered. “Beloved father, it is I, your son. The exile and years apart did not take a spiritual toll. Ani Yosef, I am the same Yosef you sent to find my brothers many years ago on the fateful day I disappeared.”

Yosef’s resolve not to disappoint his father motivated him to remain loyal to Yaakov’s teachings despite all that befell him. The knowledge that his father believed in him empowered him. He wanted to ensure that he wouldn’t betray his father’s faith in him.

Bearing this in mind creates difficulty understanding the pesukim(47:29-30) that relate that when Yaakov felt his strength ebbing and his life drawing to a close, he called Yosef to him and asked that he not be buried in Mitzrayim. Yaakov didn’t act the way you would think a loving father approaching death would when making a request from a loyal, powerful son. He didn’t tell him, “Don’t bury me in this country.” He didn’t say, “I want to be buried in Eretz Yisroel near my parents and grandparents.” He said to his most beloved son, “If I have found favor in your eyes, please give me your hand and do me a tremendous favor and don’t bury me in Mitzrayim. I [wish to] lay with my fathers. Take me from Mitzrayim and bury me [next to] where they are buried.”

Rav Gamliel Rabinowitz says that we learn from this the way a parent should deal with children. A father should not make unrealistic demands of his progeny. When parents require a favor from a child, they shouldn’t demand it, even though they have the right to. They should explain to the child what it is that they need done and why. Yaakov gently asked Yosef if he thought he would be able to honor his request, which he calmly explained.

The Torah commands children to honor their parents, and the obligation to do so is one of the underpinnings of Yiddishkeit. But no one, not even a child, should be taken advantage of. We should treat children the way we want to be treated, considerate of their needs and feelings.

At the end of their meeting, Yaakov bowed to his son, displaying respect for his royalty. Rashi quotes the Gemara (Megillah15b) which states, “Taala be’idnei sagid leih - When a fox rules, bow to him” (Bereishis 47:31). He also comments that Yaakov was thankful that Yosef remained righteous, despite what had transpired.

As a father, Yaakov endeavored to see the good in his child. He didn’t question whether it was proper for a father to bow to a son, but paid the customary honor to Yosef’s position.

Children who are treated justly recognize what is expected of them and seek to ensure that the confidence in their abilities and loyalty is not misplaced. When they have to be disciplined, they are better able to accept the tochacha, knowing that it emanates from parents who love them and want the best for them, not merely from doctrinaire elders who possess a need to dominate and control.

The author of seferMinchas Shmuel writes that his rebbi,Rav Chaim of Volozhin, said that in our day, in order for tochacha to be accepted, it has to be delivered calmly and softly. Someone who angers easily and speaks harshly is freed from the obligation of hocheiach tochiach, rebuking those who act improperly. (See a similar quote in seferKeser Rosh, 143.)

Rav Aharon Leib Shteinman once spoke at a parenting conference in Eretz Yisroel. He related that it is said that Rav Chaim Soloveitchik only hit his son, Rav Yitzchok Zev, once during his childhood.

Rav Aharon Leib explained that smacking children does not accomplish much, but if the parents are suffused with yiras Shomayim, it is easier for them to influence their children. This is similar to the parable of the Dubno Maggid that an overflowing cup waters its surroundings and helps it grow. He added that children who are influenced in that way have greater respect for their parents. The more parents work on themselves to be better people, the more influence they will have upon their children and the more the children will respect them.

Your children will not improve because you become angry with them and hit or berate them when they do something wrong. They will be better when they feel love flowing from your heart and soul.

A different time, Rav Aharon Leib stated that the Dubno Maggid asked the Vilna Gaon how it is possible to influence others. The Gaon responded with a parable. If a person has a large glass surrounded by small glasses, as long as the large glass has not been filled, the smaller glasses won’t be filled by it. So too, he said, if a person wants to influence others, he must be full. If he is filled with Torah and middos tovos, he can influence others. However, if he himself is not full, then he is like the large glass, which cannot fill the other glasses as long as it itself is not full.

Rav Aharon Leib added that in our generation, too, if we want people to follow the path of Torah, we have to be able to reach out to them. If we work on ourselves to be filled with Torah and derech eretz, then we can be mashpia on others. This has been the way of Klal Yisroel throughout the generations. Ever since the time of Avrohom Avinu, Jews knew that to impact others, we need to fill ourselves with Torah, seichel, and derech eretz.

We recite in Eil Adon every Shabbos concerning the “meoros,” “melei’im ziv umefikim nogah, full of splendor, they radiate brightness.” Rav Yeruchom Levovitz explained, when they are full of splendor, then they are able to radiate brightness.

The greatest gedolim serve as the conscience of their generations. They see as their main responsibility as being the ones to motivate their students and followers to grow in Torah, avodah and middos tovos. They demand excellence and dedication to the goal, yet they are loving and realistic, helping their students climb the ladder to greatness one rung at a time. And they radiate brightness and holiness.

Last week, we lost Rav Aharon Leib Shteinman, a man who epitomized being filled with the wisdom of Torah and gedolei Torah, coupled with seicheland derech eretz. He grew up in the shadow of greatness, living on the same block as the Brisker Rov and Rav Simcha Zelig Riger, the famed Brisker dayan. All his life, he was in the company of great men and close to such giants as the Chazon Ish. He used every available minute to grow in Torah, yiras Shomayim, and middos tovos. After a lifetime engaged in those pursuits, following the passing of Rav Elazar Menachem Man Shach, Klal Yisroel turned their lonely eyes to him for leadership and guidance.

Rav Shteinman recounted that during his short stay at the Kletzk Yeshiva, he encountered Rav Shach. “At the time, he was around thirty years old,” remembered Rav Shteinman. “He would say chaburos at the side of the bais medrash and was always surrounded by many bochurim. His middos tovos andkindheartedness were apparent, and the bochurim would discuss that among themselves with great appreciation.”

No doubt that contributed to Rav Shach’s ability to reach and impact so many thousands of bnei Torah, talmidim and others throughout his life.

A prominent mashgiach was visiting Rav Shach when the elderly rosh yeshiva’s young grandson entered the room. Rav Shach offered the boy a candy, asking him which color he preferred. The boy considered the options carefully and happily chose the red one.

The rov turned to Rav Shach. “Rosh yeshiva,” he said, “with all due respect, aren’t you encouraging the child to become like Eisov, who saw everything superficially? Why is choosing a red candy over a green one and making the distinction important different than Eisov asking Yaakov to ‘pour me this red soup’?”

Rav Shach smiled. “You need to understand the mind of a child,” he said. “A child sees the world on a shallow level. He has not yet matured to the point where he can see deeper than the color of a candy. He inhabits an imaginary realm. To him, the color of candy is very important. Eisov was already a grown person, yet he maintained a child-like superficial view of the world.”

Rav Shach looked back at the contented child. “He is doing exactly what he should be doing. Remember, he is just a child.”

Our great leaders, inhabiting the peaks of spiritual grandeur, never felt too exalted to look down and see the struggles of a child.

When Rav Eliyohu Eliezer Dessler moved to Eretz Yisroel to assume the position of mashgiach at Ponovezh Yeshiva, he sought to reprove through giving chizuk.

Talmidim who visited him the first Chol Hamoed he was there were amazed by the reception they received. “What an honor that you came,” Rav Dessler said to his teenage visitors. “I have special wine that I only take out for important guests.”

He made them feel important, and they returned the favor, raising themselves to be worthy of his respect and doing their best not to disappoint him.

Once, talmidim behaved in a way that required rebuke. The owner of a nearby makolet complained to Rav Dessler that bochurimwere not paying their bills, causing him not to have sufficient cash flow to keep his small grocery going. Rav Dessler delivered a shmuess, discussing the severity of selfishness and the importance of behaving with honesty and integrity. He didn’t mention anything about the bills at the makolet. He didn’t have to. He had let everyone know what was expected of them and they modified their behavior accordingly.

A teenage talmid had questions on emunah and his rebbifeared that he was becoming at-risk. On Purim, he brought the boy to Rav Shach, asking the rosh yeshiva if he could answer the boy’s questions. Rav Shach told the boy that there were many people coming and going, and it wasn’t a good time to engage in discussion. “Why don’t you come back over the Pesachbein hazemanim? Then we’ll have time and the ability to discuss your questions.”

When the boy returned to yeshiva after bein hazemanim, his rebbi asked him if he had gone to Rav Shach to pose his questions. “No, I didn’t,” he answered. “When we were there on Purim, through his conversation with me, he found out where I live. He came to my house twice. I couldn’t believe it. He said that we made up to meet, so he came to me because I hadn’t come to him.”

“Did he answer your questions?” the rebbi asked.

“He didn’t have to. I never asked them. The fact that he troubled himself to travel to me in Tel Aviv changed everything for me.”

This boy’s life was turned around when he saw that Rav Shach believed in him, cared about him, and was worried about the direction in which he was headed.

This is the lesson that Yaakov Avinu taught when he bowed to his son. He recognized the long journey that Yosef had taken through the moral depravity of Mitzrayim, emerging pure. Hu Yosef she’omeid betzidko.

Yaakov was inspiring us to view children with appreciation for dealing with their challenges and for their accomplishments.

It is difficult to be a young person. Youngsters have long, hard schedules, days that start early and end late. They are surrounded by multiple nisyonos, often with challenges that overwhelm adults, yet much is expected of them.

Most people have an innate desire to do well, grow, prosper and be successful in what they are doing today and in life in general. As we arm them with the tools they need to make it in these trying times, we have to let them know that we believe they have what it takes to make it.

Since the time of Adam and Chava, temptations have been ever-present. Subsequent to their failing, life has been rough. To succeed at anything, we have to work hard and endeavor to enable the yeitzer tov to overpower the yeitzer hora. We have to be seriously motivated in order to overcome life’s tribulations. As we grow and mature, we are expected to derive that strength on our own from studying Torah and mussar, and through our avodah and tefillah. But the younger people among us, who are the future of our nation, need the older ones to pave the way for them, lovingly demonstrating and teaching how it is done in order for them to be motivated.

Chinuch is all about transmitting our heritage to the next generation in a way they can understand and appreciate. We begin when they are in their youth by lovingly explaining the mitzvos and setting a fine example for them to follow.

When Yaakov became ill, Yosef brought his two sons who were born in golus Mitzrayim to their grandfather for a final brocha. Yaakov opened the conversation by telling Yosef that he knew he was upset with him for not burying his mother in the Meoras Hamachpeilah (See RashiBereishis48, 7). He explained with great reverence for Yosef that he had done so “al pi hadibbur,” in accordance with Hashem’s will. He then upset Yosef by blessing the younger Efraim before Menashe. Not always does a parent accede to the wishes of the child. Not always does the child get his way.

Recognizing the accomplishment of successfully raising children in golus, Yaakov blessed Yosef that from that day onward, every time a father would bless his sons, he would say, “Yesimcha Elokim ke’Efraim vecheMenashe - May you grow as the two sons of Yosef, who persevered despite the many challenges, becoming as great as the shevotim who grew up in Yaakov’s home.”

May we merit, with Hashem’s help, as Yaakov did, children and grandchildren who make us proud.

By Rabbi Pinchos Lipschutz

Iran is back in the news again, as its citizens muster up the courage to protest against the crushing regime. The Iranian threat has dominated headlines for several years now, with its radical, irrational leaders pursuing a nuclear weapon with the ability to exterminate Israel. Jews and freedom-lovers the world over fear that Iran is on the precipice of realizing its ambition, and have serious concerns about the safety of the citizens of Eretz Yisroel.

Iran supports terror groups across the Middle East and is at Israel’s border in Lebanon and Syria. Their plans keep military planners up at night. Iran and its allies represent a serious threat to Eretz Yisroel. But Rav Michel Stern, a prominent Yerushalmiboki in niglah and nistar, says that Iran is not our biggest problem. He says that the lack of achdus is much more dangerous than what is going on in Iran.

Peirud, division, represents a more lethal threat than Iran.

Achdus is something we often discuss, and last week we saw how beautiful our world is when there is unity. Virtually all of Klal Yisroel was troubled by Shalom Mordechai Rubashkin’s excessive sentence. Jews everywhere davened for him, thought about him, cared about him, and followed his saga. And when he was suddenly freed during the last minutes of Chanukah, Jews with love in their hearts and achdus in their souls broke into spontaneous celebration. With few sorry exceptions, we showed that we can come together and that we are more united than we know.

We were awash in good feelings as we realized that despite all we have been through and despite our differences, we felt as one. The euphoria that washed over us provided hope that going forward we can maintain the state of togetherness and accomplish much together.

This week, we begin the study of Sefer Shemos, also referred to as the Sefer Hageulah. It charts the course of our nation from the bitterness of bondage through the thrill of redemption. SeferShemos traces our progress from the lowest depths to the greatest heights, from the harrowing dangers of drowning in the Red Sea to the climax of creation at Har Sinai.

The way we act towards others impacts our souls and proclaims what kind of people we are. If we are cognizant and appreciative of others, it helps us. We become better people and can work to achieve achdus and accomplish much more with our lives.

By Hashem’s design, human beings are unable to see success if they work only for themselves. It is only as a community and as a member of a group that we can endure. From the time we are born until the very end, we can only survive if we are connected to other people. As infants, we need everything to be done for us. Even as we grow and become more independent, most everything that we require for our daily existence is provided by others.

Arrogant, unappreciative people refuse to recognize that as great as they are, without the contributions and help of other people, they would be hungry, unloved, homeless, illiterate and without much to live for. Everything that we know and everything that we have is thanks to someone who took the trouble to teach us and equip us with the essentials of life and good health.

It is impossible for a person to be totally independent and live a meaningful life. Those who cause peirudengage in anti-social behavior that is detrimental not only to the broader community, but also to themselves.

In order to maintain our humility and mentchlichkeit, the Torah gives us many mitzvos to ingrain in our psyches awareness of this world’s abundant blessings and the goodness with which Hashem showers us.

No matter where we are and what we are trying to accomplish, it is crucial that we remain focused on the goal - not the immediate victory, but the ultimate one. Through unity, we can achieve more and be more effective.

The posuk in Devorim (7:7) tells us that Hashem didn’t choose us because of our great numbers, because, in fact, we are the smallest among the nations. We are not the largest in numbers, but we are the most in the sense that when we are b’achdus, all our deeds combine and add up, while the other nations, though much greater in number, can not combine all their deeds because they are not b’achdus.

We have to figure out how to work together as a united group with common goals, not as separate individuals who walk on the same path.

Even before the birth of Moshe Rabbeinu, his mother and sister, referred to by the Torah (Shemos 1:15) as Shifra and Puah, made a career out of caring about others and extending kindness toward other human beings. The Torah states that in reward of their kindness, “Vayaas lohem botim,” they were blessed with institutions of Kehunah, Leviyah and Malchus.

The savior of the Jewish people was placed in a bassinet and saved through acts of kindness by Basya, the daughter of Paroh. The Torah (Shemos 2:10) recounts that she called him Moshe, stating, “Ki min hamayim meshisihu - Because I plucked him from the water.”

The Maharal (Gevuros Hashem 18) teaches that of the many names of Moshe, he is eternally known by the one Basya gave him, since it reflects her act of kindness. The Torah is all about pleasantness – derocheha darchei noam - and all its paths are peaceful. It is a Toras Chesed and, therefore, everyone, including Hashem, refers to Moshe by the name given to him by the daughter of Paroh, who performed an act of chesedin saving the infant from death among the reeds.

The Torah reports concerning Moshe (Shemos2:11), “Vayigdal hayeled - And the youth grew bigger.” What was the catalyst of his growth? The posuk continues: “He went out to his brothers and saw their suffering.” The young man who was growing up as a prince left the king’s palace to walk among the slaves and experience the cold, privation and oppression, so that it would be palpable and remain with him even after he returned to the privileged confines of the citadel of wealth.

When he saw a Jew being assaulted by a Mitzri, he reacted quickly and forcefully, refusing to accept it. When he saw a Jew raise his hand against a fellow Jew and then heard the Jew’s response to his rebuke, he cried out, “achein noda hadovor.” He was proclaiming that geulah results when Jews join together. It is a product of everyone being connected b’achdus. If there is division, peirud, he was telling them, we will remain in golus.

Moshe escaped to Midyon, where his first act was also one of chesed. He was at a well, and when he saw that shepherd girls were chased from watering their flock at the well, he performed that duty for them. His act of kindness to strange girls and their sheep led to him finding a mate for himself and beginning a family of his own.

The parshiyos and their lessons are timeless. Into each golus and subsequent geulah, the teachings accompanied us, instructing and providing insight into the minds of our oppressors. The storyline is always the same. Chesed, kindness, plays an integral part.

It behooves us to study the force that carried the Jews through Mitzrayim and the middah that accompanied them as they left, so that we can incorporate it into our lives and merit building a new world in the spirit of olam chesed yiboneh.

If we stand tall, remind ourselves who we are and what we stand for, and grab hold of our neighbor’s hands and work together, then we can succeed in building a brighter future.

We need to live lives of sensitivity, realizing that our Torah is Toras Moshe, a legacy of the kind, compassionate shepherd who was also our rebbi, and teach and learn it in a way that builds people, leaving them feeling good.

We need to bear in mind that the Torah is a Toras Chesed. Greatness means being aware of the needs of others - not only the klal, but every individual in the klal.

This is the sensitivity demonstrated by great people, which we must emulate and incorporate into our everyday lives. By living with such focus and compassion, we will trigger Heavenly mercy and bring about the geulah for which we are all waiting.

The posuk states (Shemos 8:1), “Vayokom melech chodosh al Mitzrayim asher lo yoda es Yosef - And a new Paroh arose over Mitzrayim who did not know Yosef.” Rashi quotes a machlokes between Rav and Shmuel. One explains that the posuk is saying that there was a new king. The old Paroh died and the new one did not know Yosef. The other opinion maintains that the Paroh of Shemoswas the same Paroh with whom we became familiar in Sefer Bereishis. He knew who Yosef was - after all, he had saved his kingdom - but acted as if he did not know him.

According to the second explanation, he is referred to as a melech chodosh because he pretendedto have forgotten Yosef. He worked with the talented, reliable, efficient young man who stepped out of the obscurity of prison to save the country. He listened as Yosef spoke to him and followed his advice. And then, he abruptly erased the many accomplishments of the Jew who had made Mitzrayim into a world superpower and established a system that filled Paroh’scoffers.

He did that because he had an agenda.There were many Jews and Paroh began perceiving them as a threat. They had to be contained, stopped and subjugated, and his advisers suggested enslaving them. But he had a problem: What about the debt of gratitude he owed Yosef?

He arrived at a solution. He craftily rewrote history and convinced himself, and his people, that the Jew had contributed nothing to the rehabilitation of Mitzrayim. His marketing people launched a campaign to change the public perception of Yosef and his people.

They likely started small, with a comment here and some innuendo there. But that was followed by: “Yosef? Who’s Yosef? I don’t know any Yosef.”

One of the great heroes of the civil rights movement was a Jewish fellow from Chicago who taught America how to organize individuals and entire communities against an enemy. Not only was he the consummate community organizer, but he actually invented the concept and term.

His premise was that the way to triumph over the one who stands in your way is to first isolate him. Then you demonize him and lob your arguments against him, and after he has been sufficiently weakened, you move in for victory.

What he invented was the art of discrediting, which is used to perfection by politicians all the time. That tool is also used against us and our community, as we are regularly tarred with a wide, filthy brush. We have to work to ensure that the allegations don’t stick. We must act in ways that ensure that the libels will not be believed. We should always be above reproach.

Certainly, anyone breaking the law should be punished for their crime. Anyone engaging in anti-social behavior should be ostracized. Anyone causing a chillul Hashem should be vilified.

Nobody should be permitted to bully another into submission. No one should take advantage of other people. Abuse must never be tolerated. We should not be silent as we watch travesties take place. Everyone should be treated with compassion, honesty and decency.

Each week, as the melava malka candles flicker, we gaze at them and think about the sublime joy of Shabbos and wonder how we’ll face another week, six more days of zei’as apecha, until we can experience Shabbos again.

The transition, from Shabbos to Motzoei Shabbos, is sort of like the one the Bnei Yisroel faced as they left Eretz Yisroel, traveling to Mitzrayim to avert hunger. They left behind light and holiness, and descended into darkness and tumah.

We partake of melava malka to ease that transition. We sing “Al tira avdi Yaakov.”We say, “Do not fear. You are equipped with the strength and ability to rise above it all and remain true to yourselves, to each other, and to the Torah if you remain loyal to the teachings and lessons handed down from avdi Yaakov.”

“Hakol kol Yaakov.” With the calm voice of Yaakov, with the restrained middosof Yaakov, with the temimus of Yaakov, and with the dedication to Torah that Yaakov personified, we can overcome.

Together, we have the key to bring the geulah. Together, we can bring salvation to those who suffer. Together, we can beat back those who lie and portray us all as being dishonest. We can overcome the demagogues who demonize us. We can refute those who seek to demean and divide us.

We hail from different backgrounds and different countries. We are spread out across the world, speak different languages and have different life experiences. We have different views on many things, but deep down we are brothers and sisters, more interested in getting along than in squabbling.

One on one, we are able to get along, irrespective of dress or differing minhagim. We should not permit labels to divide us into different groups. There is more that unites us than divides us, and we should always do what we can to keep Jews together as a united cohesive group.

We should press on, always going upward, reaching new heights every day. Each day represents an opportunity to grow in Torah, emunahand bitachon.

Where others see darkness, we should bring light. Where others battle loneliness, we should bring brotherhood.

When we are b’achdus, we demonstrate that we are worthy of being redeemed from golus. When we are mefuzar umeforad (Megillas Esther 3:8), Amaleik can scheme to destroy us, but when we are united ke’ish echad beleiv echod (Rashi, Shemos 19:2), we can surmount all obstacles and reach the greatest heights available to man.

Ina time of tragedy, we cry together. In times of joy, we celebrate together. No man is an island, no man is a rock. We mourn and we dance as one, spontaneously and without prodding. We help each other financially and spiritually. We don’t live only for ourselves. We live for others. We are positive, not negative; loving, not cynical; looking to praise each other, not condemn.

We tasted what it feels like to be geulim. We resolve to remain united, strengthen the achdus, increase the love, and feel part of a greater, larger group, so that we merit the geulah ha’amitis vehashleimah bekarov.

By Rabbi Pinchos Lipschutz

“Velo shomu el Moshe mikotzer ruach umei’avodah kashah” (Shemos 6:9). The Jews in Mitzrayim refused to listen to the comforting words of Moshe.

Try to imagine the scene. Moshe Rabbeinu was tending to his flock in the wilderness, when he beheld the extraordinary sight of a bush aflame. He paused to consider what was transpiring, as he wondered how it could be that the fire was burning but the bush wasn’t being consumed.

Like his ancestor Avrohom Avinu, who studied the world and concluded that it could not have come into being by itself, as the Medrash(Bereishis Rabbah 39:1) relates, Moshe perceived that the Creator was announcing His Presence through the bush. He recognized that what he was seeing was a defining moment in his life.

While Moshe was standing at the bush, the Ribbono Shel Olam addressed him, stating that he was selected for a lofty mission, with a mandate to save His people.

Exultant, following his long conversation with Hashem and bearing the knowledge that the painful enslavement would soon end, Moshe went to share the good news with his brethren, who had been suffering for as long as any of them could remember. He stood before them and spoke words that they had been waiting to hear: “Higia zeman geulaschem - The time of your redemption has arrived.”

Tragically, almost unbelievably, the enslaved heirs of the avos to whom Hashem had previously appeared didn’t listen.

“Velo shomu el Moshe mikotzer ruach umei’avodah kashah.”

A family consisting of seventy people came to a foreign country due to a hunger in their native land of Eretz Yisroel. They were led at the time by their grandfather, Yaakov, and his twelve sons. Things took a turn for the worse, and as the family grew, they became the subject of increasing hatred. Eventually, they were subjugated as slaves to the king and his people.

The slaves knew who they were, where they had come from, and how they had arrived in that country. They were well aware of the promises Hashem made to their forefathers, Avrohom, Yitzchok and Yaakov.

They were certainly encouraged by the fact that Hashem had promised their forebears that while their grandchildren would be tormented by a foreign power, they would then be released. They knew who Moshe Rabbeinu was. They knew his yichus. They knew that he grew up in Paroh’s palace.

Incarcerated people are generally desperate for any glimmer of hope. They trade rumors and stories that give them support and help them think that their freedom is around the corner. As we study this week’s parsha, we wonder why it was that when Moshe appeared and told them that the long-awaited redemption was at hand, and he expressed the four leshonos of geulah, the posuk states that the Jews didn’t listen to him.

We wonder how it could be that the suppressed people did not take heed and comfort from Moshe’s message.

The posuk says that the reason they didn’t listen to Moshe’s prophecy was “mikotzer ruach umei’avodah kashah.” Rashi explains that the posukis saying that the enslaved people were like a distressed person who suffers from shortness of breath. In other words, they didn’t listen to Moshe because of their terrible situation and hard work.

The Ramban says that their failure to accept Moshe’s words was not because they didn’t believe in Hashem and Moshe, but because they were in terrible pain - kotzer ruach - and feared that Paroh would kill them. Umei’avodah kashah refers to the fact that their supervisors tormented them and didn’t let them pay attention to what was being said. They weren’t given the luxury of a moment’s peace to be able to listen.

Clear and direct as these explanations are, we still wonder what the people thought about as they dragged their exhausted bodies to their tents each night. Peace of mind or not, didn’t something sink in? Didn’t they wonder about Moshe and what he foretold? When they lay their emaciated bodies down to sleep, didn’t they think that perhaps there was something to Moshe’s prophecy? Why didn’t they give what he said a chance? Maybe, just maybe, there was something to what he had said.

Moshe Rabbeinu addressed the Bnei Yisroel with a Divine message of redemption. The four expressions of geulah refer to a physical and spiritual redemption from the tumah of Mitzrayim. Moshe quoted Hashem saying that he would rescue the Jews and adopt them as his nation. He would take them from the golus of avdus and raise them to the highest levels of kedusha. They couldn’t accept Moshe’s nevuah.

Man is blessed with three levels, nefesh, ruach and neshomah. The lowest level is nefesh, which refers to man’s physical attributes. Ruachrelates to matters of speech. Neshomahis the highest spiritual level of man.

Perhaps we can thus understand the posuk that explains why the Bnei Yisroel were not heartened by Moshe’s prophesy. Their avodah kashah, hard physical labor, caused an inability to listen, as the physicality of nefeshoverpowered the spirituality of neshomah, and caused a weakness in the attribute of ruach.

Their avodah kashahprevented them from studying Torah and being involved in the spiritual aspects of life. With their spiritual side impoverished, their spiritual ruach was impacted.

Their spirit was dead. With no spirit, there is no room for life.

When the spirit dies, the body becomes numb. With no spirit, there is neither stirring nor hope.

A person who has become enveloped in apathy, depression and despair cannot be reached before having his spirit restored.

In order to hear words of tanchumim, and to be able to understand what the noviis telling you and to anticipate freedom, a person has to have ruach.

As Rashi says, one who is short of breath cannot accept words of comfort. That shortness is brought about by a deficiency in Torah and avodah(tefillah).

This is the explanation of the statement of Chazal that says, “Ein lecha ben chorin ela mi she’oseik baTorah.” The free man is the one who is engrossed in Torah study. One who spends his time learning Torah becomes receptive to freedom, growth and happiness. One who studies Torah is blessed in all his bechinos. To the degree that a person subjugates his nefeshto his neshomah, he is able to gain happiness, pleasure and ruach rechovah.

The Mishnahteaches, “Kol halomeid Torah lishmah zocheh ledevorim harbeh - One who learns Torah merits many blessings” (Avos 6). One of the rewards of a lomeid lishmah is “kol ha’olam kulo kedai hu lo.” The literal understanding of the Mishnah is that the entire world was worth being created just for him.

Darshonim expound on that reward. What type of reward is it for him that the whole world was created for him? To answer that question, they explain the Mishnah to mean that the entire world is “kedai,” worthwhile, to such a person. He enjoys every experience. He lives every moment to its fullest and derives maximum satisfaction from each encounter, because Torah uplifts and expands a person to the point where every moment of life is worth celebrating and taking seriously.

Like every posuk in the Torah, this posuk is recorded for posterity to instruct and guide us. The words and their lessons remain relevant for eternity. The tale of the people too washed up to hear the words they had been awaiting for more than two hundred years is relevant to us in our day.

Jews live in a state of constant anticipation, always awaiting good news. We all carry a sense of expectancy, viewing the events around us through eyes that look beyond them, our ears listening for the footsteps of the redeemer, whose arrival will signal that our troubles are over.

The sun shines brightly, though at times its rays are concealed by clouds. We have to possess the ability to see beyond the clouds to the light and warmth of the sun.

Few things are more disturbing than encountering bitter people. Surrounded by opportunity and blessing, they insist on concentrating on the negatives. Such myopic people remain locked in by the inability to see beyond the sadness that envelopes them. They are unable to dream of a better day or of working to achieve lasting accomplishments. They can’t acknowledge greatness in others, nor do they possess the self-confidence to achieve anything themselves.

There is so much goodness in our world. There is much to be happy about and proud of, yet too many are consumed by pessimism, concentrating on the bad news and failing to see the entire picture.

Why the negativity? Why the constant harping on what is wrong without appreciating the good?

The process of learning Torah and avodas hamussar is meant to train us to see the tov. We are to acquire an ayin tovah that allows us to discern the good in what we have and to appreciate the goodness that abounds. In order to be good Jews, we have to be happy with the present and positive about the future. If we aren’t, it is an indication of how much we are lacking in the study of Torah and mussar. We have to know that everything that transpires is brought about by Hashem, for a higher purpose that we can’t always explain.

Torah and mussar keep a person who studies them active, optimistic, energetic and positive. They shape an individual into a mentch, a person who respects others and is worthy of respect himself.

The Ohr Hachaim Hakadosh (6:9) explains that the reason the Jews in Mitzrayim were not able to listen to Moshe was because they were not bnei Torah. Torah broadens a person’s heart, he says. Had they been bnei Torah, they would have been receptive to Moshe’s message. We, who have been granted the gift of Torah, have no excuse for not being open to hearing the words of the Moshe Rabbeinus of our generation and those who seek to improve our lots and help us prepare ourselves for the geulah.

Kotzer ruach is brought about by not learning Torah. Elevating ruach to its highest form by learning Torah doesn’t only add to the power of speech, but enhances every aspect of life. As Dovid Hamelech says, “Toras Hashem temimah meshivas nofesh.” Torah restores the sunken nefesh of the person, as well as his energy and joy.

All through the ages, we have been victimized by angry, desperate people. Yet, we have endured. How have we battled back? What is the secret that enables us to remain strong and confident and successful despite having so many enemies and Kalashnikovs aimed at us?

Through learning Torah, we lift our spirits. Our neshomah becomes strengthened and overrules the nefesh. As our enemies try to snuff out our ruach, we respond with more chiyus, more energy, and more toil.

When Hashem asked Moshe to tell Paroh the message of deliverance of the Jewish people, Moshe demurred. “The Jewish people didn’t listen to me. How will Paroh?” he asked (Shemos6:12). Rashi states that this is one of the ten instances in the Torah where a kal vachomer is used.

The question is obvious. The posuk explains that the Bnei Yisroel didn’t listen to Moshe because of kotzer ruach and avodah kashah. However, Paroh, who was safely ensconced in his comfortable palace, didn’t have those limitations, so why was Moshe convinced that Paroh wouldn’t listen to his arguments?

If we understand kotzer ruach as referring to a lack of Torah and the madreigah of ruach, then the argument is quite understandable. The Bnei Yisroel, heirs to a golden tradition, were weakened in their study of Torah and thus unreceptive to messages of freedom and spirit. Paroh, who never benefitted from this tradition and never studied Torah, would surely be unable to be sympathetic to a tender humanitarian message of opportunity.

We cry out in Selichos, “Veruach kodshecha al tikach mimeni - Hashem, please don’t remove Your holy spirit from me.” We can explain that the prayer is also a request that our ruach, spirit, remain holy and blessed, infused with Torah.

We seek to merit the brachosof the novi Yeshayahu (59:21), who prophesied, “Ruchi asher alecha udvorai asher samti beficha lo yomushu mipicha umipi zaracha umipi zera zaracha mei’atah ve’ad olam - May that spirit of Hashem that rests upon the lomeid Torah never fade from our mouths, from those of our children, and their children.”

We are currently in the teshuvahand growth period known as Shovavim, given its name by the acronym of the parshiyoswe lain during this period, from Shemos through Mishpotim. As we read these parshiyosabout Klal Yisroel’s descent into Mitzrayim and redemption, we are enabled to escape our personal prisons and enslavement.

Repentance is brought about through acts of charity, fasting and affliction. Ameilus baTorah,intense Torah study, also has the power to cleanse and purify. Shovavim is as good a time as any to add fervor and zeal to our learning.

We have to breathe in deeply and fight for each breath, because we are living in an era when ruachis in short supply. We exist in a state of mikotzer ruach.

We have to work harder to lift our nefesh, ruach and neshomahto higher and broader levels so that we can breathe easier, safer and longer, meriting the geulas hanefesh and geulas haguf bekarov through Torah.

We are in the final moments before the arrival of Moshiach. The chevlei Moshiach are difficult and painful. We await the day when they give birth to the end of the siege of this exile.

Reb Aron Pernikoff spent most of his time at the Montreal Community Kollel. Though he didn’t enjoy an easy life, he exuded a certain tranquil joy, a loftiness and chashivus.

Reb Aron would quote the posuk in Tehillim that tells of the tragic descent of the Bnei Yisroel into golus after the destruction of the Bais Hamikdosh.“Al naharos Bavel, shom yoshavnu gam bochinu bezochreinu es Tzion - We sat and wept by the rivers of Bavel when we recalled Yerushalayim. Al aravim besocha talinu kinoroseinu - We hung our harps in the willow trees which grew at the river.”

He would ask, “Where did the exiled Jews have harps from?” When people go into exile, barely escaping with their lives,they take with them only bare necessities. “How did they have harps with them?” he would wonder.

He would answer, “A Yid knows that no matter where he is going, no matter how bleak the landscape ahead is, there will always be reason to sing. They took their musical instruments along in anticipation of those opportunities.”

There are always things happening in our world that give cause for shirah. Let us be on the lookout for them and appreciate them when they come to pass.

We are still exulting in the release of Sholom Mordechai Rubashkin. Those who have followed Sholom Mordechai’s story in these pages over the last decade know that he used his years behind bars as an opportunity to sing in the darkness of golus. In his writings and with those he conversed during that trying period, he joyously and repeatedly pledged allegiance to the ideals of eitz chaim hee lamachazikim bah, demonstrating that his daunting nisayon hadn’t dimmed his ahavas Hashem or his hope for a brighter future.

When we learn this week’s parsha and read the posuk of“Velo shomu el Moshe mikotzer ruach umei’avodah kashah,” let us ensure that we aren’t guilty of “velo shomu el Moshe.” Moshe’s word is the Torah. It is enduring and binding, and listening to it means keeping our ears tilted to hear the sounds of imminent geulah and open to the besoros tovos that are all around us.

Let us not grow so despondent about our situation that we can’t hear and see the good that is prevalent. Let us see the good in all that Hashem does. Let us celebrate the goodness experienced by others and ourselves. Let us look for the good and appreciate it, instead of being cynical and negative.

Doing so will cause us to be happier, more productive, and ready for the geulah, may it be bekarov.

By Rabbi Pinchos Lipschutz

As we study Parshas Bo, we note that the pesukim and narratives of this parshacomprise many of the words and stories intrinsic to our faith,which combine to mold the drama and excitement of the Seder night.

On that night, every father is charged with imparting not only the stories, but also the eternal messages and lessons that emanate from our experiences in GolusMitzrayim, and our deliverance from there, which formed us into the am hanivchor.

TheRamban famously teaches that Parshas Bo is the guidebook of emunas Yisroel, which is the foundation of our belief throughout the ages. Interestingly, besides for Yetzias Mitzrayim being the bedrock of our faith, within the account of Yetzias Mitzrayim we find important chinuchlessons and timeless truths about how to maximize the potential of every Jewish child.

It is in regard to the mitzvah of sippur Yetzias Mitzrayim that the Torahcharges each father to be a mechaneich, invested with a sacred task of inspiring his children. The Rambam (Hilchos Chometz Umatzoh7:2) writes that it is incumbent upon fathers to teach children about Yetzias Mitzrayim, and a father should teach his children according to each child’s level.

Several pesukimin the parsha discuss how to teach our children about the importance of YetziasMitzrayim and its connection to the mitzvos we observe on Pesach.

The Torah discusses diverse questions that various types of children may pose. A different response is suggested for each type of child. Rashi quotes the Mechilta and the Yerushalmi in Pesachim that state, “Dibrah Torah keneged arbaah bonim.”

The BaalHaggadah says, “Keneged arbaah bonim dibrah Torah,” theTorah speaks about four different types of sons who question our Pesach observances. There is the wise, the wicked, the ignorant and the one who is so simple that he cannot even express his questions.

It is interesting to note that the Haggadah introduces this concept by stating, “Boruch haMakom boruch hu, boruch shenosan Torah le’amo Yisroel.” Hashem is to be praised for giving us the Torah - “keneged arbaah bonim dibrah Torah.” We praise Hashem for giving us the Torah, which speaks - and is relevant - to different types of children and people.

The Torah provides an answer for each child. While every father wants to be blessed with smart, all-knowing, well-behaved children, when his offspring don’t necessarily turn out that way, the Torah provides the language with which to reach every type of child. As frustrated as he must feel, a father of such a child doesn’t have the option of ignoring or speaking roughly to him.

Every person is born with the potential for greatness. Should he unfortunately be detoured from his mission, we never abandon him. The Torah requires us to reach out to him and respond to his queries in a language that he can understand.

Every talmidhas the potential to become a gadol b’Yisroel if he is properly nurtured and allowed to develop. There are many stories of boys who were considered average in their youth and developed into famed gedolim. Sometimes it was a rebbi who took an interest in them and reached deep into their untapped greatness. Other times, a student’s stubborn dedication to learning allowed the intelligence to develop. In other cases, it was caused by the tefillos of a budding talmid chochom desperately pleading, “Choneinu mei’itcha deah binah vehaskeil.”

This is the depth of the posuk in Mishlei that states, “Chanoch lanaar al pi darko.” The premise of that advice is that every child has a derech. There is a distinct path to the heart of every child. There are no people who cannot be reached when the language and approach meant for them are utilized.

In this week’s parsha, we are reminded that the Torah speaks to every person. We have to heed that message and seek to speak to every Jew in a way that he can understand and accept.

Communication seems to be a lost art, but if we want people to appreciate our way of life, if we want to have a better chance of our children following in our ways, and if we want to have a positive impact on those around us and on the world in general, we have to improve our communication skills. We have to learn how to think clearly and articulate our thoughts cogently, verbally and in writing.

If we want to influence the debate, we have to understand the questions that are being posed and respond to them in a way that the questioner can understand. How many times do we attend a speech, only to hear the same stories repeated? People tire of them and are turned off.

Too often, we act as if we are in an echo chamber, repeatedly mouthing the same platitudes and wondering why our points are not getting across. Often, this happens because we do not take the time and expend the effort to understand the mentality of the people we are seeking to influence. Thus, our arguments fail, either because we are not properly addressing their concerns or because our logic is communicated in a language and with methods that people do not relate to. Effective communication means understanding not only the topic, but also the thought process and the value system of the people we are addressing. We don’t take the time to prepare what we want to say and how to say it so that it will resonate with the audience.

Moshe Rabbeinu was not a gifted orator; in fact, he was quite the opposite. His koachwas b’peh, but not because he wowed people with his oratory skills. He convinced his audience with the content of his words, not by the way he expressed them. He influenced people with the strength of his arguments.

The Drashos Haran says that the Ribbono Shel Olam caused Moshe Rabbeinu to stutter so that it would be evident that his successful transmission of the Torah to Klal Yisroel was due to the effectiveness and potency of his message and not his speaking style.

The Chofetz Chaim taught through speaking and writing in simple, plain language. Anyone who heard Rav Elozor Menachem Man Shach’s urgent flow of words, and his passion and intensity compensating for a lack of elocution, saw that his effectiveness had less to do with the medium than the message. He cared, so his words were accepted in the spirit in which they were said.

There is no match for genuine concern. A good educator succeeds when he views each student with an appreciation that there is a language and path that can reach his soul and tailors the message accordingly.

Just this week, Yeshiva Darchei Torah honored Rav Yaakov Bender for his forty years of chinuchleadership in that world famous institution. Rav Bender epitomizes the ability to reach and inspire each child. He demonstrates that children taught with love and care can grow and flourish. This recognition was richly deserved and serves to inspire others to aspire to attain that level of success in imparting Torah and its lessons to the next generation.

Just as there are arbaah bonim, four sons, there are also four expressions, arba leshonos, of geulah. Perhaps this is a hint that in order to bring about the ultimate geulah, we have to use the proper language for every type of child. If we only speak in one lashon,we will not succeed in reaching everyone and we will not succeed in bringing about the geulah. The geulah is dependent upon everyone’s devotion to the mitzvosof the Torah.

Golus Mitzrayim was preordained to last 400 years. When that time period concluded, the geulah arrived, despite the state of the Jewish people at that time. The golus in which we now find ourselves, Golus Edom, has no known expiration date.

The redemption depends on us, our dedication to Torah, our emunah andbitachon, and, mostly, our teshuvah. It is only when Klal Yisroel does teshuvah that Hashem will bring us Moshiach and the geulah.

With the right words, we can change the world, providing strength, humility, wisdom, joy, resilience, pride and, ultimately, the redemption.

The yeitzer hora is a crafty enemy. Because he understands our motivations, he is able to outsmart us. For us to perceive the plainly evident truth is an epic struggle, for he shades and colors the way we understand what is happening around us and goads us to react in ways that harm us.

He uses words and ideas that paint negative actions as positive ones and causes us to view positive accomplishments with negativity and cynicism. He tells us that not all who wander are lost and endeavors to remove our focus from the goal.

The skewered reality, representing the value system of the alma deshikra in which we live, has been on display since the 2016 election season.

Unhappy with the way that election turned out, the media has been gearing up ever since for the next election. There is almost no reporting on how President Trump has positively affected the economy. The stock market sets new records almost daily, last week the Dow hit 25,000 and this week it passed the 26,000 mark. Don’t expect to see any headlines about it.

The reformed tax system has just gone into effect and is already putting more money into the pockets of workers. Instead of focusing on the historic swing in the economy, the media reports on liberal states where Trump’s reform will have little impact on homeowners.

The country is rebuilding its army and defense abilities, which had been weakened under the last president. American prestige is rising and consumer confidence is moving up. The GDP is up, unemployment is down. Black unemployment is at the lowest level in many years. But you’d never know any of that if you depend on the mainstream media for your news and information. All you’d know is that the president colluded with Russia to get elected, is a racist, bigoted nut.

There is a constant drumbeat that the president is mentally deranged, because it works. There is probably nobody left in the country who believes that Trump is playing with a full deck. The difference is that some overlook that flaw in favor of the many aspects of Trump’s agenda that are proving to be greatly beneficial to the country.

The media pounds propaganda into people’s psyches until the public accepts it. Mainstream politicians are so scared of saying something that one group or another will find offensive that they fear saying the truth. There is rarely any intellectual honesty displayed. Everything has to fit into a convenient politically-correct box.

But that doesn’t work for us as a people. If we want to reach people with questions and prevent them from going OTD, we have to be open and honest. We have to learn how to address our own issues using real solutions and honest ideas, not noise or sound-bites. What we need is practical direction, not grandstanding for the glory of the moment or fanciful thinking that has no application to reality.

It is far easier to deliver big speeches and to propose sweeping changes than to sit far from the limelight and develop a workable solution. Clearly thought-out approaches will have a lasting salutary effect on the community long after the speech has been forgotten.

Fighting battles of yesteryear will cause us to lose today’s battles. Seeking to be mechaneichchildren with the wrong methods causes them to be turned off.

A mechaneichtraveled from Yerushalayim to Bnei Brak to consult with the Chazon Ishon chinuch matters. Before he had a chance to begin speaking, the Chazon Ish turned to him and said, “I see on your face that you are not happy. You need to know that it is impossible to reach children without simcha. It is impossible.”

We have to reach the proper level of happiness, and learn the correct words, proper language and various leshonos with which to reach different people. Fathers will then reach their sons - veheishiv lev avos al bonim velev bonim al avosam.

We will raise a generation of satisfied, good people, and together - parents and children, teachers and students - we will greet Moshiach, bimeheirah biyomeinu.

By Rabbi Pinchos Lipschutz

Parshas Beshalach is an ode to a nation being formed through trial and tribulation. The Jews faithfully followed Hashem’s direction out of Mitzrayim and into the desert, “lechteich acharai bamidbar,” marching from the depths of slavery to the heights of Kabbolas HaTorah.

Yet, there are some issues that require explanation. Following the makkos and the exit of the Jews from Mitzrayim, Paroh and his nation chased after their former slaves, catching up with them on the banks of the Red Sea.

Had Paroh and his people not learned their lesson? Had they not experienced enough bitterness and pain at the hands of the G-d of the Jewish people? Had they not recognized that they are no match for the G-d of the Jews, having lost every showdown with His nation? Why did they chase after the Jews? What made them think that they would be able to subjugate them once again?

Paroh’s chase after the Jews is explained by the posuk (Shemos 14:4) in which Hashem had told Moshe that He would harden Paroh’s heart and cause him to chase after the Jews in order to bring about a kiddush Hashem. But what about the Mitzriyim? Why were they engaging in yet another doomed attempt to vanquish the Jews? Anyone with minimal intelligence could have concluded that the Jews would triumph, as they had repeatedly in the past. Why engage in a suicidal mission?

While perhaps we can understand that the Mitzriyim were charmed by Paroh into engaging in this suicidal mission, how do we explain the behavior of the Jews? As Paroh and his people came closer to them, they let out a hue and a cry. They assaulted Moshe (Shemos 14:11-12), saying, “Are there not enough graves in Mitzrayim that you brought us here to die in the desert? We already told you in Mitzrayim that we would prefer working for Mitzrayim rather than dying in the desert.”

These were the very same people who just a few days prior had been delivered from the clutches of Mitzrayim. They had partaken in the Korban Pesach, they heard Hashem’s promises about their future in the Promised Land, and they answered their children’s questions, as prescribed by the posuk. These were the same people being led by the protective Anan Hashem during the day and the Amud Aish at night.

Why were they fearful? How could they have sunk so quickly to express no confidence in Hashem’s ability to save them from Paroh?

We commonly understand avodah zorah as the inane worship of an inanimate statue or human being. Rav Elchonon Wasserman zt”l (Ikvisa D’Meshicha) explains that avodah zorah is actually embracing any concept or attitude that causes one to believe in a power or force other than Hakadosh Boruch Hu. Any belief that distracts a person from Hashem’s complete mastery over creation is avodah zorah.

The Mitzriyim who followed Paroh to encircle the Jews and capture them and the Jews who complained that they were about to die in the desert had something in common, as Chazal teach us. “Hallalu ovdei avodah zorah, vehallalu ovdei avodah zorah.” Both were worshippers of avodah zorah.

While it seems silly to fashion a god out of stone and worship it as if it has powers, worshiping a false deity has many seeming advantages, for it frees people from obligations. To have recognized the power of Hashem would have obligated the Mitzriyim to follow His principles. Acknowledging that Hashem is indeed the Creator of the world and Omnipresent means that His Torah is the blueprint for the world and for man.

The Egyptian legends and myths were much easier to accept than a truth that came with a code of proper conduct.

The Jews were at the 49th level of tumah and under the influence of the Mitzriyim. As obvious as it may be to us in hindsight, as objective observers, it was very difficult for the Jews to shake lose the preposterous suppositions that they had become accustomed to. Prior to Krias Yam Suf, they still found it difficult to accept upon themselves the Divine code of conduct and fashioned imprudent postulations to explain their predicaments.

At the splitting of the sea, the Jewish people rose to a very high level, recognizing Hashem’s strength and singing shirah. Chazal say that at that time, “a maidservant witnessed greater visions at the sea than the prophet Yechezkel ben Buzi ever saw.” It would appear that when they attained those heights, they overcame their weaknesses and would remain in awe of Hashem’s mastery of the world.

Yet, the same people lifted from the depths of impurity, who witnessed the open revelation of Hashem’s Presence and cried out, “Zeh Keilive’anveihu,”seemed to fall ever so quickly.

Their plunge was as dramatic as their rise. Three days after the climax, they were again complaining (Shemos 15:22), crying out, “Mah nishteh? What will we drink?” as if Hashem had brought them there for them to die of thirst (Shemos15:24).

Hashem’s answer is revealing. The posuk (ibid. 26) states that they were told, “If you listen to Hashem and do what is proper in His eyes, and follow His mitzvos and chukim, I will not place upon you the illnesses I placed upon Mitzrayim, for I am Hashem, your healer.”

Their complaint about the lack of water emanated from a lack of belief. Hashem’s response was to remind them of their obligations as people of belief. If they would totally forsake their mythical beliefs, Hashem would be their protector. Although they knew the truth of Hashem, they began to slip back into the clutches of avodah zorah because of its convenience.

Avodah zorah is akin to drug addiction. Although it is obvious that the drugs do not help the person’s situation, instead creating fictitious realities that cause the addict to be drawn into a downward spiral, the freedom from obligation and reality is a very enticing a panacea, making it difficult to overcome.

With that incident behind them, they began moving, only to once again fall from their lofty plateau and complain that Moshe and Aharon were leading them to a painful death of starvation. They claimed that their life in Mitzrayim was idyllic, with prime beef and luscious bread.

What happened? Where had the tangible emunah disappeared to?

Once again, they were experiencing the ebb and flow of addicts. It was proving difficult for them to accept upon themselves the discipline that comes from recognizing Hashem. Their emunah and bitachon suffered, because they lacked the courage and fortitude to completely accept the restraint and regulation that accompany the acceptance of the fact that Hashem is the Creator.

The nisyonosfaced by the Dor Dei’ah are just as daunting to our generation today. We don’t worship little idols and other vacuous trivialities, but we are tempted by other avodah zorahs. People worship money and fame, power and influence. They delude themselves with fictitious beliefs so that they can engage in physical pleasures. Anything that negates the fact that Hashem controls the world is a form of idol worship and avodah zorah. Every Jew recoils in horror at the thought of avodah zorah, yet we tread dangerously close when we attribute actions to forces other than Hashem.

Society has adopted the theory put forward by Charles Darwin that the world created itself and animals evolved from shapeless matter into living, breathing beings. Everything you see in our beautiful world, they say, arrived there by itself. The millions of atoms required to form one being somehow managed to arrange themselves in that way to become trees, flowers, birds and all of humanity. The very idea is preposterous.

To think that a human, or any part of him, could have come into existence by itself defies logic. Flowers created their multiple shapes, sizes and colors all by themselves? How can it be? Who can really believe that? The truth is that no one can, but people do anyway, for doing so frees them from being subservient to a Divine code of conduct.

Dr. Henry Marsh, a British neurosurgeon, is one of the pioneers of a procedure called “awake craniotomy,” allowing the removal of certain brain tumors while a patient is awake.

Karl Ove Knausgaard, a Norwegian author, was allowed to witness one such operation. His account was translated for The New York Times.

He writes that one of the operating doctors “looked up from a microscope that was suspended over the brain and turned to me… ‘Do you want to have a look?’ he asked.

“I nodded.

“The doctor stepped aside, and I bent down over the microscope.

“Oh G-d.

“A landscape opened up before me. I felt as if I were standing on top of a mountain, gazing out over a plain covered by long, meandering rivers. On the horizon, more mountains rose up. Between them, there were valleys, and one of the valleys was covered by an enormous white glacier. Everything is gleaming and glittered. It was as if I had been transported to another world, another part of the universe. One river was purple, the others were dark red, and the landscape they coursed through was full of strange, unfamiliar colors. But it was the glacier that held my gaze the longest. It lay like a plateau above the valley, sharply white, like mountain snow on a sunny day. I had never seen anything quite as beautiful, and when I straightened up and moved aside to make room for the doctor, for a moment my eyes were glazed with tears.”

Yet, scientists, intellectuals, common people and lawmakers have the audacity to say that the brain created itself. There is nothing as beautiful as this organ, rarely seen by human eyes. The brain is merely one organ of millions, and its beauty and intricacy are mind-boggling. Imagine if you factor in the awesomeness of the Grand Canyon, the beauty and grandeur of every component of the world, the intricacy of a leaf and a blade of grass, and insects and the cosmos.

How can anyone who knows anything about anything in this world mock creationists?

It is hedonistic urges that drive people to Darwinism.

The Chazon Ish taught that a necessary component of greatness is to always be objective. It might seem obvious, but to be free of negius means to be firmly committed to the ramifications of emunah. Great people are entrenched in their faith and aren’t dissuaded by temptations of money or power, since they know that everything comes fromHashem. If they are deserving of something, they do not have to obtain it through subterfuge.

When they investigate an issue, when they are consulted for advice and direction, their judgment can be relied upon.

A group of assimilated students once approached the Alter of Novardok, wishing to discuss finer points of religious ideology. He agreed to have the conversation, but said he would talk to them only after they had spent a month studying in his yeshiva.

He explained his decision with the following parable: A simple person was walking along the street on a Shabbos afternoon when he saw a golden coin. He needed the money badly and began to find ways, according to halachah,to permit moving the coin on Shabbos. His reasoning was quite creative, and he was satisfied with his conclusions and kicked the coin step by step as he walked down the street towards his home.

The town banker was taking his Shabbos afternoon stroll and noticed the gentleman kicking a coin as he walked. He bent down to examine the coin. When he straightened up, there was a frown on his face. “I hate to break it to you, mister,” he said. “That coin is copper, not gold. It’s worth pachos mishoveh prutah.”

Suddenly, all the heteirim vanished and the man sulked away, shuffling his tired feet home. His excitement was dashed and he was done with his creative halachicreasoning.

The Alter of Novardok turned to the group. “That’s the truth for everything that captures us. If it holds value, then our reasoning is impacted and we are unable to think clearly. Only when we get rid of our misconceptions can we appreciate our errors and honestly examine the issues.

“As much as I would like to help you in your thinking, it would be a waste of time for me to speak with you while you are still held captive by the allure of your culture and philosophy. After you have spent some time in yeshiva and your minds are cleared, I will be happy to talk.”

It is only at the very end of the parsha that a change seems to overcome Am Yisroel, and for many parshiyos they do not rebel against Hashem.

As Amaleik descended upon the Jewish people, something changed. Moshe, Aharon, Yehoshua and Chur led the charge against Amaleik. When Moshe raised his hands, the Jews advanced in their battle. The Mishnahteaches that when the Jews put their faith in the One Above and davenedfor victory, they won.

The parshaends as Hashem instructs to write down the story of Amaleik’s attack and to know that Hashem will erase the memory of Amaleik. However, that realization will wait until Moshiach’s arrival, for until then, we will face attacks from Amaleik in every generation.

Amaleik sensed a lack of emunah and pounced. They saw a void and sought to expose it and take advantage of it. The nation of asher korcha baderech worked assiduously to tamp down the fires of faith.

When the members of Klal Yisroel asserted themselves, they emerged stronger than ever. They believed with a new certainty and focus not just that Hashem runs the world, but also that everything else is just a distraction from that reality.

The encounter with Amaleik served to tighten their embrace with Hashem and bring them closer to Har Sinai. Similarly, in every generation, when Amaleik attacks us, he causes us to reaffirm our beliefs and turn to Hashem. This is why Hashem promises that our arch-enemy will be ever-present until the redemption. We need him in order to remain loyal to Hashem.

As we adapt to our host country in the exile, people grow comfortable with surroundings and begin assimilating and adopting the prevalent avodah zorahs. When that happens, the nations get fed up with us, anti-Semitism reappears, and Jews are reminded who we are and where we come from.

Check our history and you will see that it is true. The Jews are forced from their homes to a new exile. There is much pain and anguish. Jews are mercilessly killed and robbed of their possessions. Beaten and barely holding on, they establish roots in a new country. Slowly, they spread out of their ghettos and gradually become accepted and comfortable in the new host country. Good times are had by all, but then, just as it seems as if Moshiach has come and brought us home, the cycle begins again. The goyim get fed up with us, the noose tightens, and, before we know it, Amaleik has us on the run again.

This time it is different, for we have been told that America will be the final stop in this exile. When we leave here, it will be to go with Moshiach to Eretz Yisroel. We must ensure that our faith remains firm, that our objectivity holds us in place, and that we don’t veer off the path.

Amaleik is ever-present, bombarding us daily with challenges, moral, legal and ethical. He seeks to temp us with various avodah zorahs. In the spirit of “asher korcha,” he seeks to cool us from extreme devotion and dikduk b’mitzvoswith different guises and nomenclatures. Sometimes, they sound intelligent and sophisticated, while at other times, they are directed at man’s baser temptations.

When something comes along that can lead to chillul Hashem, we should know to stay far away and not get involved with it. When people begin doubting halachahor mesorah; when people throw up roadblocks to shemiras hamitzvos; when they mock our values and talmidei chachomim, seeking to adapt Torah to other cultures and religions; when they say that we must be more open-minded or accepting, we should recognize the voice of Amaleik.

To survive, we must remain faithful to our mesorah, unyielding in our devotion to Torah, untempted by anything that introduces foreign beliefs, and support the hands of the Moshe Rabbeinus of our generation with emunah, bitachon, tefillah and humility. By doing so, we will merit the final geulah, bemeheirah beyomeinu. Amein.

By Rabbi Pinchos Lipschutz

In ParshasYisro, we learn of KabbolasHaTorah. Following the makkos, KriasYamSuf and the accompanying revelations of Hashem’s might, KlalYisroel was prepared to become the Am Hashem and receive the Torah.

It is interesting to note that the parshathat depicts Matan Torah is named for a foreigner, Yisro. Another intriguing anomaly is that the Torah interrupts the account of the exodus from Mitzrayim and the apex of the journey at Midbar Sinai to tell the seemingly tangential story of Yisro’s arrival.

The portion of the parsha that discusses Matan Torah should have continued from the conclusion of ParshasBeshalach, having described the miraculous crossing of the YamSuf, the deliverance of the life-sustaining monn and Hashem’s intervention saving the newly freed people when challenged in battle by Amaleik. Why is the story of the redemption depicting the journey to MidbarSinai to receive the Torah interrupted by the story of Yisro’s arrival?

What lessons are implicit in the narrative of Yisro that justifies its insertion between the description of Krias Yam Suf andMatan Torah?Apparently, there are lessons involved in his tale that are necessary for a proper acceptance of the Torah at Har Sinai.

The parsha begins with the words “Vayishma Yisro - And Yisro heard.”Rashi quotes the Gemara in MasechesZevochim, which asks what Yisro heard that prompted him to leave Midyon and join the freed slaves in the desert. The Gemara answers that he heard about KriasYamSuf and MilchemesAmaleik.

We can understand that upon hearing about KriasYamSuf, a thinking person can be motivated to go find out about a people for whom the laws of nature were abrogated. The open and evident display of Hakadosh Boruch Hu’scare for His people and the awe and power He displayed to bring about their independence could convince an observer that this group of freed slaves was a chosen nation.

However, the second stimulus for Yisro’s trip is more difficult to comprehend. Why would Amaleik’s vicious attack draw someone close to KlalYisroel?

Yisro was a spiritually sophisticated person. From the vehement opposition expressed by the wicked people of Amaleik toward the nascent nation, he reasoned that there must be something truthful about the Jewish nation in order to arouse such strong antagonism. Truth is never universally lauded. In fact, it is often condemned and bitterly opposed. The fierce opposition alerted him to the fact that Judaism is worth an examination. A meaningful connection to the Creator comes with resistance from those who deny the truth.

The truth carries responsibilities and forces people who follow it to act a certain way. Amaleik, the classic scoffer, disdains truth and attacks it with a vengeance. Admiring and recognizing the existence of a Creator and the superiority of the way of life He prescribed means that the observer may have to reject an immoral, hedonistic lifestyle. Thus, the truth is commonly ignored and battled.

Yisro, who always sought to find the truth, understood that a nation with a purpose will, by its very nature, draw hatred. When he saw the vehemence with which this group of people was hated, he set out to discover for himself what truth they beheld that aroused such enmity.

Throughout the ages, Klal Yisroel has always felt the uniqueness of its role as Hashem’s people. Being the chosen ones has engendered much kinah and sinah. As Chazal say, the mountain upon which the Torah was given to man is called Har Sinai, because along with the Torah, sinah yordah le’olam, a supernatural hatred for the Jews descended upon the world.

Obviously, Yisro was not the only one who heard about Krias Yam Suf and Milchemes Amaleik.One would imagine that there were few people who hadn’t heard about these two earth-shattering events. Why did the miracles galvanize only Yisro?

The whole world heard about what happened. Krias Yam Suf was a viral event. People the world over were impressed and awed. The world might have been inspired,but it was for a mere moment, not long enough for the miracle to impact them. A fleeting impression was all they experienced, before quickly returning to their old habits. They reverted to the way they were before they were amazed by the power of Hashem. They refused to permit their momentary inspiration to have a lasting impact on their lives.

The only person who heard about Krias Yam Sufand Milchemes Amaleik and was affected long-term by the events was Yisro. He was the only one who permitted the experience to transform his life.

The pesukim recount: “Vayichad Yisro… And Yisro rejoiced over all the goodness that Hakadosh Boruch Hu did for the Jews and rescued them from Mitzrayim… And he said, ‘Now I know that Hashem is greater than all the gods…’ And he brought korbanos to Hashem…”

No one else came to the BneiYisroel in the midbar saying, “Atah yodati kee gadol Hashem.” Everyone else remained with their pagan beliefs. They couldn’t be bothered to explore anything that might require them to abandon an easy life.

This is why the Torah interrupts the chapter of the BneiYisroel’s excursion in the midbar to tell the tale of Yisro’s arrival. A prerequisite for KabbolasHaTorah is to let the experience of Hashem’s majesty envelop the mind and the senses so that one draws closer to Torah and G-dliness.

My grandfather, Rav Eliezer Levin zt”l, would often refer to a concept he absorbed in Kelm of “kelbeneh hispaalus,” referring to cows that feed on the grass that grows on train tracks. When they hear the train approaching, they frighteningly run from the tracks, only to find their way back after the train passes.

Divine acts are intended to teach us the power of Hashem. Torah demands that hisorerus have a lasting impact, leading to improvement and growth.

That was the lesson of Yisro, and that is why his parsha was placed before Kabbolas HaTorah. That is why the parshaof Kabbolas HaTorah is named for Yisro, the convert.

Vayishma Yisro. We have to be open to hearing and examining what is going on and learn from what transpires to dedicate our lives to the truth and living honest and upstanding lives. We must study the lesson of Yisro and be affected by what transpires in our communities and around the world. We must not be apathetic, unaffected and untouched by what is going on.

The Torah further recounts that Yisro noticed that Moshe Rabbeinu was teaching halachos and judging the Jewish people from morning until night. Yisro advised Moshe that the system was improperand counterproductive. He urged Moshe to set up a well-functioning court system in which other people would adjudicate the simpler cases and the more difficult ones would be brought to him.

Yisro told Moshe that the present system was too difficult to sustain and would end up destroying him. Yisro advised him to choose competent dayonim whom he could teach the halachosso that they would be knowledgeable enough to educate the people.

Yisro urged Moshe to get Divine approval for the new system and thus be able to function optimally.

Yisro was a newcomer to the Bnei Yisroel’s camp. He wasn’t the first person to see what was happening to Moshe Rabbeinu. Everyone saw that Moshe was consumed all day long with dinei Torah. Anyone could have observed that it wasn’t sustainable. Anyone could have devised a more effective system to allow Moshe Rabbeinu to spend his time more productively. Anyone could have realized, as Yisro did, that Moshe would become exhausted from the grueling regimen and unceasing pressure.

Everyone saw it. Anyone could have realized where it would lead, but no one did anything about it. It took Yisro to internalize what he saw and to do something constructive to address it.

Yisro saw, Yisro cared, and Yisro spoke up. Hakadosh Boruch Hu and Moshe Rabbeinu accepted his proposal.

Yisro saved Moshe from becoming physically exhausted. The Torah honored him for this worthy deed by naming the parsha for him. This is why the lessons imparted by Yisro’s deeds are inserted into the narrative describing the supernatural events leading up to Matan Torah.

Yisro taught that everyone has the potential for greatness to the point of being worthy of inserting his deeds into the Torah and having a parsha in the Torah named for him. One must care enough to notice what is going on around him, draw the right conclusions, and try to remedy the situation.

Every one of us has the ability to improve the world. Each of us can reach out and help others. We can all bring meaning and warmth to the lives of our neighbors, friends and fellow Jews. If only we cared, if only we tried. If only we took Yisro’s example to heart. There are so many people in this world hungering to grow and become better people and Jews, but they need our help. We should be there for them. We should always seek to be giving without taking, striving to help prepare the world for Moshiach,helping improve people’s lives.

Yisro taught us that we can all make a difference.

When Amaleik perceives that he can’t destroy us, he slanders us and tells the world that we don’t know how to treat animals or people. He says that we are mean, vicious and heartless. The media promotes the canards.

It wasn’t that long ago that pogroms were perpetrated against the Jewish population by illiterate peasants egged on by the Church and government authorities.

Today, thankfully, they don’t come after us with sticks, knives and guns. Blood libels are a thing of the past. Today, instead of knives and spears, the warmongers’ implements of battle are words put forth by compliant media outlets.

Examples abound. Just last week, Vice President Mike Pence, in a historic step, visited the Kosel during a most friendly trip to Israel. Amaleik wasn’t happy. Headlines bewailed the fact that female reporters and photographers were placed behind the mechitzah at the Kosel.“It was an act against women,” they said. “The Orthodox hate women and treat them as second-class beings. They don’t permit them to do their jobs.” They threw the ultimate put-down at us, writing that the Orthodox are misogynists. So are Trump and Pence, of course.

The leftist Jewish media, never missing a chance to attack President Trump and his administration, as well as the religious community, took full advantage of the opportunity.

“How dare they!” they wailed.

“This was a new low for women,” The Forwardcried, adding, “Rather than taking a stand against Pence’s misogyny, Israel was quick to accommodate it with their own. In the space of an hour at the Kotel, Pence’s visit became the occasion for sending women back even further than usual by preventing professional women from working side by side with their male counterparts.

“When both radical religious Judaism and radical religious Christianity intersect on the oppression of women, we are all in trouble.

“Pence’s visit became yet another example of the spread of radical misogyny in political leadership. This should be alarming not only to those who want to hear women’s ideas or who believe women deserve to live freely in the world. It should also be of grave concern to anyone who cares about values such as moderation, freedom, equality, or peace in the Middle East.

“And it was a huge betrayal of these values when Israeli President Rivlin gave Pence the highest praise by calling him a ‘mentsch.’ In so doing, he betrayed women most of all.”

The Torah relates how Yisro went to Moshe “to the desert.” Obviously, if he went to Moshe, he went to the desert, for that was where Moshe and the Jews were to be found. Rashi explains that the Torah is actually saying this in praise of Yisro.

Yisro was sitting “bichvodo shel olam.” He enjoyed prestige and fame as a leading light among the cognoscenti of that age. Yet, he was prepared to venture out into the barren desert in order to seek out the truth of the Torah.

Journalists and self-styled intellectuals whose self-respect is dependent on viewing themselves as progressive, socially-engaged, examples of enlightened Jews unshackled by ancient traditions cannot perceive the derochehadarchei noaminherent in Torah and mitzvos. They make a career out of painting ehrlicheYidden as backward, insensitive and unsophisticated people who are incapable of their own refined sensibilities. If we learn, we are parasites. If we work, we cheat. If we own a business, we take advantage of our employees. Somehow no matter what we do, we are depicted as being dishonest, careless and heartless.

We must have the courage to stand up to people who seek to undermine us. We have to follow Yisro’s example and not be afraid to withstand the ridicule of the cynical scoffers, as we endeavor to live of life of truth.

The posuk (19:5-6) states, “Im shomoa tishmeu bekoli - If you will follow My word and heed the Torah, you will be treasured to Me from all the nations of the world. Ve’atem tihiyu li mamleches kohanim vegoy kadosh - And you will be unto Me a priestly kingdom and a holy nation.”

No matter what we encounter, we must follow the precepts of the Torah. We must honor the interests of the poor and the downtrodden, be honest in all our dealings, seek to be mekadeish Sheim Shomayim in all we do, remain loyal to each other and to the laws of the Torah and the land.

We must know and remember that America is a gift from Hashem. Never in our history has there been as charitable and welcome a host as this country. We came here as poor refugees, streaming in to escape pogroms and the Nazi Holocaust. Barely surviving, we limped in. With the help and backing of this magnificent country, we have become a thriving community. We must always remember to be thankful for the opportunities and freedoms offered us.

Based on Kabbalistic sources, the Vilna Gaon describes how the neshomah of Klal Yisroel, the Torah itself, left the collective body of our nation at the time of the churban Bais Hamikdosh. The structure of the body remained, and through years of golus, it has been slowly rotting, its bones decaying. The longer we are in golus, the more we lose. During the period leading up to the geulah, the Torah slowly returns to us and we get our breath back. When Moshiach comes, the neshomah of Am Yisroelwill once again be invested in us and we will flourish as before.

We, keepers of the sacred covenant, look forward to returning the Torah to its home, when the neshomah of our people will return to its guf andthe weary body of AmYisroel will be resurrected.

As we deal with the twin destinies of Am Yisroel, greatness engendering enmity, exile begetting deliverance, and the ongoing battles of Amaleik, we await the collective and personal Krias Yam Suf, may it take place speedily in our day.

By Rabbi Pinchos Lipschutz

“Ve’eileh hamishpotim asher tosim lifneihem.” Rashi explains that just as the laws that appeared in Parshas Yisro were delivered to the Jewish people at Har Sinai, so were the laws relating to financial matters, included in this week’s parsha, also presented to the Jewish peopleat Har Sinai.

Just as the laws that are spiritual in nature and pertain to the relationship between man and G-d are Divine, and just as the laws that defy human comprehension are Divine, those that can be considered common sense, such as the laws governing financial interactions, are also of Divine origin and were delivered to man at Sinai.

The laws demanding scrupulous honesty were given by the Creator to form the fabric of our daily life. Reduced to its core, the philosophy behind why we must lead honest, upright lives is because Hashem commanded us to do so, not because a healthy society depends on honest interpersonal dealings. This conviction must guide our observance of the laws pertaining to financial integrity.

If laws governing our behavior with our fellow man fluctuated according to an individual’s or society’s preferences, the entire moral and legal tapestry would unravel. As we have seen many times, unscrupulous leaders justify their lawless behavior with corrupt rationales, dragging down society along with their regimes. Dishonest people ensnare others in their traps and cause financial loss, ruin and pain. Good people become tainted as they begin using elements of subterfuge to advance ambitions and goals.

People can rationalize any behavior and convince themselves and others that they are acting properly when they clearly are not.

If the law is not Divine and immutable, it is open to manipulation. As the posuk warns in Parshas Shoftim, “Kihashochadye’aveireinichachomim.” Bribery blinds. There is no greater temptation to cut corners with the law than the allure of quick financial gain. Jealousy of another’s financial success is one of the most powerful - and destructive - motivators for dishonesty. Were it left to man to act ethically according to his own perceptions of what is proper, there would be plenty of room for him to inject his own corrupt assumptions into his dealings.

When ethics and morality are viewed as holy as kashrus, kedushah and taharah, the urge to wheel and deal and to legitimize that behavior is somewhat curbed.

Torah is not open to human manipulation. As the repository of the Creator’s wisdom, it is a closed book. It is timeless and unchanging. Stealing is stealing, in every age, in every corner of the world. Lying and engaging in subterfuge to gain an advantage, even over a dishonest person, is an aveirah and inexcusable, no matter how strong the rationale to engage in the activity is.

Just as an ehrlicheYid understands that there is no way to kosherize an animal that has not been properly shechted, he knows that he should not benefit from money that was not earned honestly. An ehrlicheYid is repulsed by improper gains. They have no appeal to him.

Man-made laws are subject to human limitations and to the spirits of the times of the people who formulated the laws. Laws reflect the period in which they are written. Systems of jurisprudence subject to human intervention are constantly evolving with the times and are manipulated by changing perspectives. Only the laws of the Torah are eternal, for they were fashioned by an omniscient, omnipotent Creator. The laws were created for the betterment of man and with all his needs in mind. They represent the blueprint for a utopian society, necessary for the functioning of a perfect social order and unaffected by whatever perspectives hold sway at any particular time.

Witness the current brouhaha over the release of the Republican memo pertaining to actions of certain FBI leaders and agents who were attempting to derail President Trump. Bureaucrats who hate Trump knowingly used a concocted pack of lies, known as a dossier, to initiate secret government surveillance and cause a special prosecutor to investigate the president’s ties with Russia.

There never were any ties with Russia and there never was any collusion between the Trump campaign and Russia. It was all a lie, compiled for the Clinton campaign and sold to the country by desperate Democrats and a compliant media.

America is a great country, but many are unsure today whether the Justice Department and the FBI are motivated by justice or by other considerations.

That is what happens when people with inherent prejudices are put in charge of pursuing justice. They revert to basing their actions upon their own common sense and end up far from the truth.

In fact, anything devised by man is subject to human bias and thus cannot achieve absolute truth or immortality. Empires rise and fall in a matter of centuries, as the corruption that creeps into the core eventually collapses the entire structure.

Perhaps this is the reason why the parshaopens with the laws of eved ivri. At the time the Torah was given until modern times, a feudal system dominated most societies. People would enslave the weaker and less privileged among them, treating them brutally and inhumanely.

Long before compassion and humanity became universal values, the Torah revolutionized the world with its mandates of charity, kindness and justice. The laws forcing slave-owners to treat their slaves better than themselves were not bound by the temperament of the times and were much more progressive than anything man could have conceived when they were delivered on Har Sinai. They remain so today.

One of the ways a Jew demonstrates his belief in the Divine source of the Torah’s laws of jurisprudence is by refusing to turn to secular courts for adjudication of legal issues.

From the parsha’s opening pesukim, Chazal derive important guidelines for how Jews are supposed to resolve their disputes. One who uses secular courts instead of botei din commits a chillul Hashem, for through his actions, hedemonstrates that he doesn’t believe that the Torah’s financial laws come from the Creator.

By patronizing secular courts, he puts on display his belief in society’s ideas of what is fair -ideas dictated by human reasoning that are flawed, arbitrary and tragically limited.

The posuk states (23:7), “Midvar sheker tirchok - Distance yourselves from falsehood.” The truth must be our benchmark. Fidelity to the truth is what defines us. We are not to compromise the truth in order to protect our positions or prop up our public image. We must do what is correct al pi Torah, without making cheshbonos.

Each generation draws its strength from its forbears who were mosernefesh to transmit the Torah in its entirety to their descendants. While each generation faces its own individual trials and tribulations, the admonition of midvarshekertirchok, along with every single law in the Torah, is eternally applicable.

There is no justification for lying or dishonesty in any facet of our lives. If we want to be good Jews, we will make no distinction between any of the laws of the Torah in terms of the time, effort and diligence we expend in fulfilling them.

The test of our emunah and bitachon is whether we follow the laws of Mishpotim and ChoshenMishpat with the same care that we demonstrate with respect to the other mitzvos handed down at Sinai.

One of the questions a Jew is asked by the Bais Din Shel Maalah is whether his financial dealings were honest. Ehrlichkeit in finances is the defining trait of a yorei Shomayim. We all know stories about people who forsook fame and fortune because of a breath of impropriety that might have tainted some of the activities required of them.

For people of this towering spiritual caliber, the sole authority and guide in any money-related endeavor is hilchos Choshen Mishpat. No other considerations enter the picture.

Fear of failure, competition, and the vast amounts of money necessary to get by in our world lead people to abandon the laws of Sinai. It starts with small lies, with minor acts of deception, and it snowballs from there. Self-deception rules the day, as half-truths and white lies launch the downward spiral. Before long, the individual caught in this vicious cycle becomes an unscrupulous scoundrel. Yet, due to the power of rationalization, he still views himself as a pious person, worthy of honor and emulation.

By contrast, a person who knows that Choshen Mishpat is equally a component of shemiras hamitzvos as Orach Chaim and Yoreh Deah is someiach bechelko, because he knows that whatever he owns is rightfully his, and he can therefore enjoy it. Envy and greed have no power over him, because his driving force is to give his Creator nachas by obeying the Torah’s mandates. He knows Hashem treasures him and values his sacrifices for truth.

One who utilizes chicanery and thievery to advance himself and his interests is denying the rules the Creator built into the universe by which man can progress in life. He is denying that one who leads his life according to the halachos of the Torah will lead a blessed and successful life. By choosing to go down an unscrupulous path, he is broadcasting his denial that one who abides by the Torah will enjoy prosperity and blessing.

Such a person portrays a major deficiency in his spiritual outlook. His actions carry a denial of the fundamental belief that Hashem guides the world and mankind, and allots to each and every individual his respective needs, as we say on Yom Kippur, “Kevakoras ro’eh edro, maavir tzono tachas shivto, kein ta’avir vesispor vesimneh vesifkod nefesh kol choy vesachtoch kitzvah lechol briosecha…”

Honesty is not only the path to a guilt-free, successful and fulfilled life. It is a testament to our devotion to Torah and mitzvosand our emunah and bitachon. Being honest and forthright not only makes us better people and more capable of getting along with others socially and functioning in a civil society. It makes us better Jews.

The memoirs of Knesset member Shlomo Lorencz are replete with anecdotes and encounters that underscore the acuity and foresight of gedolei Yisroel.

In his book, Bemechitzosom, he discusses the time an Israeli army chaplain posed a question to the Chazon Ish concerning a soldier who was engaged to be married. The army schedule precluded him from arranging any time off for a wedding, the chaplain said.

The chosson was finally approaching a furlough, which would allow him to celebrate his long-awaited matrimony. However, his break fell during Sefirah, the period in the Jewish calendar when weddings are not held.

The chaplain asked if an exception could be made to hold the wedding during the days of Sefirah. He argued that if the wedding couldn’t be held during Sefirah,it would have to be delayed for a very long time. Perhaps an exception to the general rule could be made.

The Chazon Ish responded that he could approve having the wedding during Sefirah, butwith a caveat: It could be held on any date except the fifth of Iyar. Rabbi Lorencz, who witnessed the exchange, was surprised by the p’sak. He made a face, but the Chazon Ish simply smiled back at him.

The great gaon explained that the chaplain’s question wasn’t really about Sefirah. It was about Zionist legitimacy. The Chazon Ish perceived that the question was a sly attempt by the Zionist leadership to help achieve acceptance of Israel’s national Independence Day as a Yom Tov. They hit upon this question as a way to produce a “heter” from the revered rabbinic figure for weddings to be held on that day, despite the injunction of Sefirah, a de facto admission that the 5 IyarIndependence Day had halachic status of a Yom Tov.

Lorencz recounted in his diary that the chaplain was very upset with the Chazon Ish’s ruling that the wedding may be held on any day of Sefirah except the fifth of Iyar. His sad face revealed his true intentions and the penetrating wisdom of the Chazon Ish.

In a hesped on the Steipler Gaon, Rav Moshe Soloveitchik explained that Noach believed in Hashem’s word and didn’t doubt it. However, Noach made cheshbonosand reasoned that, ultimately, Hashem would have mercy on his creations and not bring the flood. Therefore, he didn’t enter the teivah when he was told to. For this reason, he is called a “kotton b’emunah,” because we are required to follow the word of Hashem and not make cheshbonos.

We are to follow halacha and the precepts of Chazal and the rabbinic leaders of each generation. If the halacha is to engage in a certain action, then that is the way we should conduct ourselves. We should not engage in calculations and justifications for deviating from our mesorah, even with the rationale that such actions will help achieve a greater good.

It was upsetting to read the statement of the Orthodox Union allowing shuls with female clergy to remain within its umbrella and contribute to the fiction that despite their deviation from halacha and mesorah, Open Orthodoxy is Orthodox, when it clearly is not. It is distressing to note that the statement utilizes language intended to mollify those who seek to follow the example of the Open Orthodox movement pertaining to the involvement of women in synagogue life. By leaving the women clergy in place and not demanding their immediate ouster and other improvements in some of the shuls, the statement can be seen as a victory for those who engage in calculations and justifications for deviating from our mesorah and continuously agitate to push the envelope.

We were let down by the statement, as well as by the silence with which it was greeted by the broader Orthodox community.

We expected better.

By Rabbi Pinchos Lipschutz

This week’s parsha deals with the construction of the Mishkon, the dwelling place of the Shechinah in this world. Introducing the description of this holy place and its construction, the posuk (Shemos 25:2) states, “Veyikchu li terumah– And they should take donations for Me” to build the Mishkon.

The Vilna Gaon explains that the Shechinah was in the hearts of the Bnei Yisroel, but the people needed a place where they could gather together. This was accomplished by “all the hearts” - all the people who had the Shechinahbeating in their hearts - donating as per their heart’s desire, “asher yidvenu libo.”

When people demonstrate that they appreciate what Hashem has given them, they show that there is holiness in their soul. Kedusha seeks to expand and strengthen. When they give of themselves and their possessions, they are able to build a place where kedusha can take hold, gather other sparks of holiness, and fashion a place of holiness in the world.

To understand this, we can imagine a single person striking a match on a dark winter night. The match lights for a few seconds and then withers away. Suppose two people are together and each one lights a match. The flame is larger, brighter and warmer than when a single match is struck, though it is still quite feeble. The more matches struck together, the more warmth and light there will be.

Every Jew has an individual spark of kedusha, but by itself and when it is cold and dark, the spark can’t accomplish much. When Jews join together, each one with his spark, a torch of kedusha erupts and the Shechinah has a place to visit.

This is the explanation of the Mishnah in Pirkei Avos which states that when two Jews join to study Torah, the Shechinah is among them. This is because they have combined their sparks to light the world for Torah. In such a place, the Shechinah feels comfortable and joins.

When the entirety of Klal Yisroel joins in contributing “bechol levovom,” for a place of kedusha, the Shechinah has found a dwelling place among us in this world.

With this, we can understand a statement of Rabi Akiva: “Ish v’isha zachu Shechinah beineihem - If a man and woman merit, the Shechinah is with them” (Sotah17a). When a man and a woman marry, if each one is filled with hopes of building a proper Jewish home and has strengthened themselves with good middosand fidelity to Torah and kedusha, that is a couple who have fostered a place where the Shechinah can feel comfortable.

We no longer have the Mikdosh among us, but we do have within us sparks of holiness, and if we properly observe halacha, study Torah, and help other people, we can fashion within our hearts and homes a place for the Shechinah.

Hashem told Moshe to accept donations from people “asher yidvenu libo,” who want to give. Nobody should be forced to contribute to the construction of the Mishkon.

The Alter of Kelm asks that considering that the call for the construction of the Mishkon came in the desert after the redemption from Mitzrayim and receiving the Torah, who of the Jewish people wouldn’t want to contribute to a building where the Shechinah would dwell among them?

How are we to understand that people in their situation would not want to part with a few shekels to help construct a Bais Hashem?

The question is strengthened by the fact that nobody among them had earned any of the riches with which they had been blessed. Thus, any money they had was obtained through chesed Hashem, fulfilling the promise made to Avrohom of “V’acharei chein yeitz’u b’rechush gadol” (Bereishis 15:14).

Since none of the Jews of the Dor Hamidbor worked hard for what they had and none of them could convince themselves that their money was a product of “kochi ve’otzem yodi,” why would they not willingly give some of it back to the Benefactor who enriched them?

It would appear that once man gains a possession, he convinces himself that it is his, that he earned it, and that nobody can take it away from him. In an effort to remind us of this message, back when we were in yeshiva, we would write in our seforim before our name, “LaHashem ha’aretz umeloah, b’reshus,” loosely translated as, “Hashem is the owner of the world and all that is in it, and has placed this object in my possession.”

Hubris and selfishness are ingrained in our mentality to such a degree that it is with great difficulty that we part with our possessions to benefit others. We forget that Hashem has given us what we have and that it is incumbent upon us to recognize His beneficence. We look back at the people who were enriched by looting the Mitzriyim and wonder how they could not appreciate the source of their wealth. Yet, others from different generations can view us similarly. They can easily say, “Look at the wealth Hashem gave the Jewish people at this time of history. Look at how Hashem removed so many of the impediments to Jewish people being accepted among the general populace and accumulating great wealth.” They may wonder about us, “How can it be that they didn’t realize that Hashem had blessed them? Why didn’t they share more of it? Why did they think that they were entitled to ignore the cries of the poor and needy?”

Sure, there are many generous people among us, and it is thanks to them that Torah is built and maintained. It is to their credit that there are so many charitable organizations that help people deal with every conceivable need. Who knows if charity was ever distributed on the level it is now? But we also know that there is so much more that can be done.

If you want to merit a share in the Bais Hashem in your area, if you want to merit a Mishkon and a Mikdosh, you have to be a person of nedivus halev, thoughtful generosity. That comes by recognizing that all that we have is a gift and acknowledging that the Torah is made of halachospertaining to bein adam lechaveiro, not only bein adam laMakom. We have to care about others. We have to seek to benefit fellow Yidden.

The Baal Shem Tov is quoted as saying, “It is worth living seventy-eighty years if only to do chesed with another Jew one time.”

As we study Parshas Terumah, we learn of the keruvim (Shemos 25:20), angels with cherubic faces of young children that were fashioned on top of the Aron. The keruvim were generally facing each other, but when the Jewish people didn’t act properly and sinned, the keruvim turned around and faced the wall of the Mishkon.

Rav Gamliel Rabinowitz explains that the optimal situation is when Jews face each other and care about one another. When a person turns away from others and doesn’t care about them, even if he is facing the holy wall of the Mishkon and working on his own avodah, Hashem sees him as a sinner.

A person who cares only about himself is unable to grow in Torah and have a proper relationship with Hashem. [See also Avodah Zorah 17b.]

A story is told about the Chofetz Chaim, who once called an urgent meeting of communal leaders to discuss and solve a pressing matter. Although the Chazon Ish was very young and virtually unknown at the time, he was invited and participated in the gathering. The Chofetz Chaim noticed that the Chazon Ish did not seem like he wanted to be there and was anxiously awaiting the meeting’s culmination so he could return to his Gemara.

The Chofetz Chaim turned to the Chazon Ish and said, “You should know that I am aware that were I to lock myself away and only study Torah, I would grow to much greater heights in Torah and avodas Hashem, but our task in this world is not to think only about ourselves. Man wasn’t created for himself, but rather to bring satisfaction to Hashem, who desires that we help others. This is compounded when dealing with matters that affect the community.”

This is the way tzaddikim and good people conduct themselves.

Many years later, the Chazon Ish, already living in Bnei Brak, was raising money for an important cause. He asked a certain rov to visit a wealthy man in Tel Aviv to solicit a donation from him. The rov didn’t want to go and said, “An adam gadol is needed to explain the importance of this cause to him.”

The Chazon Ish wasn’t impressed with the excuse. He said to the rov, “How does a person become an adam gadol? When he succeeds in a mission such as this one.”

When we care about others and give of ourselves to help people, we grow, for by doing so, we are following the ways of Hashem, as the Rambam states in Hilchos Dei’os (Perek 1), “Mah hu nikra chanun af atah heyei chanun.” The most important thing we can do is help each other.

An adam gadol is one who understands priorities and acts upon them. MK Shlomo Lorencz was leaving on one of his many fundraising trips abroad and went to the Chazon Ish to bid farewell and ask if there was anything he needed done before he left. The Chazon Ish told him that there was a small yeshiva that was experiencing a specific problem. He asked Rabbi Lorencz to ensure that the issue was resolved before leaving.

Rabbi Lorencz asked what was so important about helping this small yeshiva. He wanted to know if there was something really important that had to be taken care of before he was to leave. Helping some tiny yeshiva he never even heard of didn’t seem to fit the bill.

The Chazon Ish told him, “Yeshivos are of utmost importance. What happens outside of yeshivos is of secondary consideration. Our main focus is on yeshivos, and not only large, famous yeshivos, but every yeshiva, even the smallest ones, even those that are taking their first baby steps, such as this one, which you never heard of. They are paramount, and it is worth devoting time and working to ensure that the issues are cleared up and the talmidimcan enter their building and begin learning.”

Yeshivos, botei medrash and shuls are what we have today in place of the Mishkonand Mikdosh. We have to appreciate them and seek tospend time there engaged in Torah, tefillah and seeking to become closer to Hashem. We enter them with our small sparks of kedusha and the Shechinah, and we team up with the other people there and their sparks, together lighting a torch of kedusha that brings light to our lives and to the world.

And just as the Mikdosh, in its time, served as a location from where holiness spread out to Klal Yisroel, so too, great tzaddikim are able to accept Hashem’s influence, and from them it spreads to those who have properly prepared themselves to accept it.

[The Drashos HaRan (Drush 8) enhances this point and adds that the same applies to kevorim of tzaddikim, and it is for that reason that Chazal(Sotah 34b) advise to daven there. See also Oros HaGrapage 226.]

As we study Parshas Terumah this week, let us delve beneath the surface and learn its lessons. As we learn the halachos pertaining to the construction of the Mishkon, let us feel its absence and strive to improve the way we conduct ourselves with each other. Let us seek to keep our sparks alive and work to be proper hosts for the Shechinah. Let us contribute to mikdoshei me’at we have been blessed with and appreciate that they are hosts for the Shechinah.

Let us appreciate the tzaddikim who live among us and the benefits they bring to the generation. Let us be close to them and support them, so that we may enjoy the kedusha that emanates from them.

Rabbi Pinchos Lipschutz

Megillas Estherannually reinforces the closeness Jews feel with the Creator and with each other.

Unlike many of the famed miraculous redemptions that occurred in Eretz Yisroel, or at a time when the Jewishpeople were pious, the Purim story took place when the Jews were exiled, divided and, through attending the seudah of Achashveirosh and bowing to his “tzelem,” [see Megillah 12a], demonstrably lacking in spirituality.

The Rambam, in Sefer Hamitzvos, writes that the lesson of the Megillah is that it is true, emes he, that there is no one as close to us as Hashem Elokeinu, who responds to us whenever we turn to Him, just as a loving father, who even when separated from his children, never loses touch with them. Even when they are apart, the father is present somewhere in the background, watching and waiting for progress. Similarly, Hashem showed His enduring love for us in Shushan, even when themechitzah of golus separated us.

And so, this year again, the sounds of Megillas Esther will fill our shuls and homes with happiness and optimism. They will tell us to remain together and hopeful, for nothing really is what it appears to be. There is always a story behind the story and things taking place that no one would fathom. There are plots and sub-plots happening beneath the surface, while we have no clue about any of it.

Despite all the headlines and sub-heads, quick glances and deep analysis of current events, nothing even scratches the surface in explaining what is really going on. Even those who rely on skimming social media for news would have to admit that there are things going on that they cannot understand or explain. There is so much fake news that unless you really devote yourself to digging through the silliness to get to the truth, you are clueless.

Purim is a time that tells us to recognize that nothing is what it appears to be, and if we have faith in Hashem, we will see salvation.

Achashveirosh, says the Medrash, was asuperficial chonef, who sought to ingratiate himself with those around him. He killed his wife because his friend told him to, and then he killed his friend to satisfy his wife, the Medrash remarks, referring to the king’s easy acquiescence to Haman’s suggestion that he kill Vashti and his equal willingness to kill that same Haman for Esther’s sake. There was no loyalty, only convenience and political expediency. He had no core beliefs. There was nothing he really believed in or cared about besides his burning desire to remain in power surrounded by sycophants.

Initially, he favored his Jewish citizens. Then he rejected them, because he craved money and power, and his advisor convinced him that he would have more of both if he would rid himself of the Jews. Then he had a change of heart and began favoring the Jews and helping them in every way possible. He was fickle and capricious. Today’s leaders are no different.

Take, for example, Israel’s prime minister, Binyomin Netanyahu, who faces increasing domestic and international pressures. Originally empowered as prime minster thanks to the support of the chareidipolitical parties, he was widely viewed as a friend who shared our concerns. Chairing the party of Menachem Begin, he followed his heritage to electoral victory and then to forming a governing coalition. But when peirudcaused Shas to lose three seats to splinter parties and Naftoli Bennett pushed the National Religious leader into the arms of the anti-religious demagogue Yair Lapid, Netanyahu changed his spots. He spurned his former allies and friends who enabled his career and signed on to the Lapid agenda.

A few years later, there were new elections and the cards lined up differently. Netanyahu put together a coalition with the religious parties and is once again everyone’s best friend.

The posuk (Esther 2:5) describes Mordechai as “Ish Yehudi.” The Medrash (Esther Rabbah 6:2) expounds on the choice of the word Yehudi, which would signify that he was from shevet Yehudah, when, in fact, he hailed from the tribe of Binyomin. The Medrash concludes that the choice of words is to indicate that he was a “yechidi, because he was meyacheid shemo shel Hakadosh Boruch Hu.”

The Sefas Emes explains that when Chazalsay, “Ve’ohavta lerei’acha kamocha zeh klal gadol baTorah,” it is because at the root of life, all Jews are connected as one. A person who is connected to the “nekudah chiyus hapenimis” loves all Jews, for that is the point of achdus.

The pure state of the Jewish people is achieved when they are all together, joined with achdus. It is then that we are strong enough to combat Amaleik and his descendants. When we are together, we rise to the greatest heights and are able to achieve the spectacular. When we are divided, we get in trouble. When we battle each other, when we permit people to drive wedges between us, we are all losers.

The United States is accusing Russia of meddling in the 2016 elections and stirring up trouble. Apparently, the Russians didn’t advocate for any specific candidate. In one day they held a rally in New York City for Donald Trump and against Donald Trump. They sought to weaken the American democracy by “sowing disorder,” and turning citizens against each other.

When people try to stir up trouble in our camp and divide brother from brother, we ought to let them know that they are not welcome. We aren’t interested in fighting anymore. We don’t want silly splits and fracases. We’ve had enough. It’s time we really got back to where we were the night Rubashkin was freed, when Jews of all stripes danced together, talking to each other without regard to any differences. It was just a few weeks ago. Why can’t we go back there? Why can’t we all work to unite instead of divide? Would it really be that hard?

When we are united, there is no force that can stop us. We can defeat Amaleik and Haman. We can overturn evil decrees and get our lives back.

That is what Mordechai told his people. He gathered them all together. “Leich kenos es kol haYehudim,” he said. He dressed himself in sackcloth and delivered mussar to the Jewish people and Esther. He enforced three days and nights of tefillah, teshuvah and fasting. He committed everyone to achdus, as the posuk states (Esther9:16), using the singular verb “nikhalu v’amod al nafshom,” signifying that they gathered as one to beseech Hashem. Through his prodding, they did teshuvah, and as a result of their improvement, they were reconnected to the “nekudah chiyus hapenimis” and once again loved each other as Jews are meant to.

Thus, they were able to earn Hashem’s intervention, and the decree that had hung over them for ten years was swept away. They got new life. Their achdus brought them back to where we were as we gathered at Har Sinai to accept the Torah, “k’ish echod belev echod.” The togetherness enabled them to once again accept the Torah and they had much to celebrate. “LaYehudim hoysah orah vesimcha vesasson vikor.”

Rav Yeshayahu Pinto, a talmid and mechutanof Rav Chaim Vital, explains that the enormity of the sin of attending the seudah of Achashveirosh’s was because the feast was held to celebrate that according to the king’s calculations the Jews would never be redeemed and the Beis Hamikdosh would never be rebuilt. Since the Beis Hamkidosh was where the Jewish people connected with Hashem, by joining in the celebration the Jews demonstrated that as far as they were concerned that special connection was broken. Without that special relationship, they no longer had a reason to exist.

ParshasVayikradeals with thelaws of korbanos. The parsha details the process of one who is makriv himself, his very essence, through a korban. In fact, the word kiruv,meaningto come closer, lies at the root of the word korban, sacrifice, for it brings people closer to Hashem.

The Ohr Hachaim (Vayikra 1:2) expounds on the posuk at the beginning of Parshas Vayikra which states, “Adam ki yakriv mikem (korban).” He explains that the desire to become close to Hashem has to come from within the Bnei Yisroel. Sinning creates distance between Hashem and us, as a sinner becomes separated from the Shechinah. Since Hashem wants us to remain close to Him, he commands, “Hochei’ach tochiach es amisecha.” He wishes for us to seek to draw closer to those who have drifted away. This is the reason that Chazal say, “Kol hamezakeh es horabimein cheit ba al yado” (Avos 5:18). Because Hashem wishes to be reunited with His lost children, he heaps reward upon people who enable that relationship to crystallize.

The Bais Hamikdosh was a place of kirva, representing the ultimate closeness attainable in our world between man and his Creator. Referred to as a place of yedidus, the highest level of interpersonal friendship, it was built in the biblicalportion of Binyomin, who is referred to in the Torah as “yedid Hashem, the friend of Hashem,” to underscore the closeness of the relationship.

Rav Moshe Shapiro explained that the word yedid means friendship because in every relationship there are ups and downs, times of closeness and times of distance. In every relationship, there is a time to stand apart. There are times defined as yemin mekarev,when the right hand draws close, and periods of s’mol docheh, when the left hand pushes away.

Even bein odom laMakom, between man andHashem, there is a precedent for this type of distance. When Yaakov bowed to Eisov, he was expressing an admission of the fact that in this world, there is an order. The will of Hashem at that time was for Yaakov to subjugate himself to Eisov.

Since Binyomin was not present at that encounter between Yaakov and Eisov, he didn’t accept that there are times when right and justice must submit to might. As such, Binyomin was defined as a yedid, which in Hebrew is written as a compound of the word yad twice, yud dalet, yud dalet. Rav Shapiro explains that a yedid possesses only a yemin mekarev, perpetual closeness.

Generations later, Mordechai maintained this yedidus. When others insisted that it was necessary, even pikuach nefesh,to conform to the dictates of Haman, Mordechai refused to bow. The Megillahstates that Mordechai was “lo kom velo za”(Esther 5:9).Not only did Mordechai refuse to rise before Haman, but he seemed to be unaware of Haman’s existence. He didn’t flinch when Haman passed him. Mordechai was showing his people, and instilling in those who would follow until this very day, that they possess the strength to confront evil without shuddering. He taught not to succumb to the urge to surrender to the prevailing temporal power.

Mordechai was a yedid of Hashem, possessing a closeness that didn’t leave room for disloyalty. He was an unfailing yedidof the Jewish people, admonishing them not to compromise, because he loved each of them and wanted to ensure that they would remain yedidim of Hashem.

Due to his efforts, they merited being saved from the plots against them and returning once again to be close to Hashem, so much so that they embraced Torah Shebal Peh as their forefathers had accepted TorahShebiksav at Har Sinai. Their acts of return and devotion were so great that they led to the rebuilding of the Bais Hamikdosh.

The Jews had been “mefuzar umeforad,” spread apart from each other. Each was in his own sphere, unconcerned about the other. Now they were together once again, the way we should be.

Mordechai, a descendant of Binyomin, was a yedidof Hashemand a cherished friend of every Jew. He fulfilled themitzvah of hochei’ach tochiach in its most ideal form. When people ignored his halachic ruling forbidding attendance at Achashveirosh’s feast, he bore the burden of their collective suffering after the gezeirah was passed. Like a loving father, he reassured, comforted and led, establishing the mass fast and gathering in Shushan.

Though they had sinned, Mordechai loved them and Hashem enabled a salvation to be brought about. Through his mesirus nefesh and yedidus, the Jews merited the Purim miracle.

Our enemies have tried, ever since the days of the Shushan miracle, to entrap and ensnare us. But if we care for each other and seek to bring about achdus and yedidus, we can overcome that which is put in our path and merit a return of the Bais Hamikdosh in our day.

Throughout the generations, our great leaders have been men such as Mordechai, who cared about each Jew. Genuine giants are unfailingly humble and gentle, accessible and available to every person who needs help, guidance or a warm smile.

The closeness of good people with the Ribbono Shel Olam allows them to see the Divine light in every Jew as they are mekarevthem with love and devotion, as true yedidim. Their friendship echoes the overriding friendship that gave us the neis of Purim; theyedidus of Binyomin, and the deveikus of Mordechai to Hashemand every Jew.

We all have our problems and are upset about various issues that plague our community. We have tuitions to pay, mortgages to worry about, and a pile of bills, but there also has to be room in our hearts to feel the pain of others who are suffering. We need to befriend and help them. Often, people suffer in silence. A person can appear to be very successful, but in his heart, there might be a gaping hole that we can help fill. People who appear to have everything going for them might have issues tormenting them. There is no way to know. If we smile to everyone, we are bound to help cheer up those lonely souls as well.

The Megillah (4:6) relates that Mordechai told Esther’s messenger, “Kol asher korahu ve’es parashas hakesef.” Mordechai shared everything that happened to him. While he was in prison, Shalom Mordechai Rubashkin once asked me why the posuk states that Mordechai told him of his own personal experiences. The Jewish nation was in serious peril, as Haman plotted to kill every Jew. It seems to be a very selfish act for Mordechai to tell Esther’s messenger what had happened to him personally.

The answer is that he only told of other peoples’ pain but every Jew’s pain was Mordechai’s very own personal pain. He told the messenger to report to Esther what was going on outside of the palace and how so many people were suffering. He felt their pain as if it was his own.

Every Jew’s pain should be our pain. If someone is in trouble, we should rush to help him. If we see people fighting, we should bring them together. We shouldn’t tolerate anything divisive. We have had enough of golus. If we could only stop the squabbling, we’d be able to end it.

Everyone is thinking about what the next big thing will be. Let’s try achdus.

Let’s make it happen. Let’s silence the dividers and empower the uniters. Let’s all get together and say that we’ve had enough, once and for all. When we exchange mishloach manos let us show that we can all get along and be friends. Let us reconnect with the nekudas hachiyusand each other.

We will then merit rejoicing in the great nahafoch hu with the imminent arrival of Moshiach Tzidkeinu.

Ah freilichen Purim.

Rabbi Pinchos Lipschutz

This week’s parsha opens with the commandment of counting the Jewish people following the sin of the Eigel (Rashi). They were not to be individually counted, but rather each person donated a half-shekel coin to the Mishkon and the coins were counted.

The posuk states that by conducting the census in this way, the act of counting would not bring on a plague, and each person’s donated coin would help forgive him for his sins.

Many commentators discuss what it is about the census of Jews that causes a plague. Why does each person give a half-shekel and how does that bring about forgiveness?

A simple explanation is that when all Jews are counted equally, it demonstrates that one Jew is as important as the next, and no one should ever feel that they have sunk too far for redemption. A rough upbringing, a tough divorce, or so many of the difficulties we deal with in life can drive a distraught person from Yiddishkeit. The census shows that although they hit a rough patch and veered off, they are still Jews who are loved by Hashem, and their return is eagerly awaited.

Rav Tzadok of Lublin writes (Tzidkas Hatzadik 154) that just as a person is obligated to believe in Hashem, a person is obligated to believe in himself. No one should ever give up on themselves and feel that all hope is lost and they are too far gone. In whatever position a person finds themselves they posses the abilities to clamber back up and excel once again. Everyone counts.

The Alshich quotes Rav Shlomo Alkabetz, author of Lecha Dodi and the classic sefer Manos Levi on Megillas Esther, who says that each person contributes a half-shekel to demonstrate that every individual on their own is not whole. We only become complete and worthy of being counted as a member of Klal Yisroelwhen we live b’achdus with our brethren. If we are aloof, apathetic and alone, we don’t count, so to speak.

Rav Yitzchok Eizik Chover explains that the counting was not to determine how many separate people there were and to add the number, but rather to bring the people together and count them all as one unit.

Additionally, the posuk states, “He’oshir lo yarbeh, vehadal lo yamit,” the rich man should not give more than a half-shekel and the poor man should not give less. The census is conducted to remind the Jewish people to rectify the sin that causes the Shechinahto be removed from among them, namely machlokes and peirud.

At the root of every machlokesis ga’avah, when one person feels that he is better than the other. For example, the rich man looks down at the poor one and says that his success is proof that he is more righteous and a better person. The poor man says that he is the bigger tzaddik and it is because of his righteousness that Hashem punishes him severely for his few minor sins. Each one feels himself superior to the other. Such feelings lead to squabbles among Jews and the departure of the Shechinah.

Therefore, the Torah calls for everyone to contribute the same small amount to signify that nobody knows their value in the eyes of Hashem and they view each other as equals. This leads to forgiveness of sins through the census, for the feelings of equality remove sinas chinom and machlokes and lead to achdus. When there is achdus among the Jewish people, the Shechinah returns.

Rav Chover adds that when there is achdus among Jews, they are able to help each other improve. When people despise each other, they cannot offer reproach or help. When two people are squabbling and one of them sees the other doing something wrong, he smiles, fantasizing about how he can spread virally what he saw and cause the person much pain and anguish. Even were he to reprimand the person who did wrong, the person wouldn’t accept the tochacha and suggestions for improvement, because he would feel that the other person is mocking him and seeking his downfall.

If we cannot be mochiacheach other, then people won’t improve, and we will stray further and continue to act foolishly.

Mordechai HaYehudi was a champion of achdus and searched for ways to bring the Jewish people together to counter Haman. As a grandson of Amaleik, his ability to destroy the Jews would only be effective if the Jews remained divided. He enacted decrees and sought to scare and divide them further, but because Mordechai rose up to bring the Jews together, Haman failed.

The posuk at the end of Megillas Esther recounts that upon the conclusion of the Jewish victory over Haman, many people converted to Judaism: “Verabim mei’amei ha’aretz misyahadim,ki nofal pachad haYehudim aleihem.” They converted, the posuktells us, because they feared the Jews.

The sefer Manos Levi remarks that despite the severity of Haman’s evil decree, there is no record that any Jews converted to spare themselves. Perhaps we can answer that this was because Mordechai brought the Jews together. He was thus able to be mochiachthem and strengthen their faith in an ultimate triumph. Through the achdushe engendered, they were able to accept his mussar and repented for what they had done wrong. With their spiritual rise and restored faith, they fasted and prayed and Hashem heard their tefillos.

We are reminded of the crucial need for achdus as we lain the Megillah and engage in the mitzvos hayom, all of which seem intended to remind us to increase our brotherhood and love for each other. Every yom tov, the influences of the time of the original miracle for which the yom tov was proclaimed are present once again. On Purim, our ability to set aside differences to be able to merit geulah is real. Let us take advantage of the opportunity.

A story is told about Rav Shmuel Munkez, who sought to travel to visit his rebbe, Rav Shnuer Zalman of Liadi. He was poor and unable to afford the trip, so he made his way to the local market and searched for a merchant who would be traveling to Liadi and willing to let him hop along. He found a whiskey merchant who was headed to Liadi and agreed to give him a ride, with a hitch. He told the chossidthat he wouldn’t be able to sit in the heated front carriage because of lack of space. He would gladly take him, but he would have to ride with the whiskey barrels in the unheated baggage section. Happy to have found a ride to his rebbe, Rabbi Munkez agreed.

The longer they traveled, the colder he became. It was a stiff Russian winter night, and after a few hours, the passenger felt as if he was going to freeze to death. He got out from between the barrels and went to the merchant in the warm carriage and shared his predicament. The generous merchant shared his cup with him and told the freezing man that he could open the spigot of one of the barrels and drink some of the whiskey. That would surely warm him. The chossid drank enough to warm himself and felt as if his life had returned to him.

When they arrived in Liadi, the chossid headed straight to the Alter Rebbe. They shook hands, he said shalom aleichem, and the rebbe answered aleichem shalom. And with that, the man told the rebbe that he was heading back home.

The rebbe understood that it was with difficulty that the man had traveled so far, and wondered why upon arriving all he wanted to do was turn around and go home.

The chossid responded that he had come to hear messages of Torah that would enable him to conduct himself properly. He told the rebbe that as he traveled to see him, he learned a lesson applicable to him and worth the trip. He told of how he suffered from bitter cold as he quivered among the whiskey barrels. It was only after he opened one of the barrels and drank from it that its liquid went through his body and totally warmed him.

He said that from this he learned that it is not sufficient to be among great men – tzaddikim and kedoshim - as you can still freeze to death. To be warmed by them, a person has to work to get the light of tzidkus and Torah into himself.

“I am returning home to work on that,” the chossid said, “and I shall return when I feel that I have accomplished in that regard.”

Purim is here, with its great lessons and hashpa’os. It is not enough to sit among the whiskey bottles. It is not enough to drink from the bottles. We must work on ourselves to ensure that the influences of the mitzvos of the day work their way through our innards and warm our souls on this special day, ensuring that the warmth lingers within us as we go forward.

Rabbi Pinchos Lipschutz

Vayakhel and Pekudei conclude the five parshiyos that discuss the construction of the Mishkon.

The Mishkon was constructed over a period of a few months. The project required hundreds of workers and large amounts of material. To facilitate the construction, there was a large fundraising campaign, in which everyone participated. When the Mishkonwas completed, a festivity ensued.

Rav Yaakov Kamenetsky points out that for all that effort, the Mishkon was originally intended to stand for a short period of time. The Bnei Yisroel left Mitzrayim on Pesachand were to travel through the Sinai desert and then enter Eretz Yisroel,a short trek. It was the chethameraglim that caused the Jews to wander in the desert for an extra thirty-nine years. Why, then, was so much effort and expense invested in constructing such a temporary edifice?

After experiencing the joy of Purimand being reminded of our obligation to eradicate Amaleik, we can understand the necessity of the expenditure of time and effort for a building that would last but a few months. Throughout the generations, Amaleik has mocked us, as he seeks to sow doubt about Hashem’s Presence in our lives. Purim celebrates our victory over Haman, the embodiment of Amaleik in his time, and demonstrates for us that we can overcome evil if we unite and raise our level of commitment to Torah and mitzvos.

On Purim, we are b’simchaand seek to be mesameiach others. We meet new people, make new friends, and reconnect with old ones. We are introduced to worthy causes and recruit others to causes we believe in.

We gain an appreciation for what can be accomplished in one day. And then, even after the sun goes down, music plays and people continue to celebrate the miracles and messages of Purim.

We learned last week in Parshas Ki Sisa how the Jews sinned with the Eigel Hazohov. Misled by the Soton, they feared that Moshe Rabbeinu would not return and fashioned a golden image to replace him. The people desired leadership and a Divine relationship, but they were misguided. Following their teshuvah, they were granted their wish, along with the directions of how to construct a place among them where Hashem could be found.

Although the Mishkon would be temporary, its effect would be eternal. While it was meant to last for several months, it represented the ideal that every day could be spent in the presence of Hashem. No day, or even part of it, should be taken for granted or wasted. Every minute is precious and can generate greatness.

Klal Yisroel, newly-cleansed from the chet ha’Eigel and desirous of a proper relationship with Hashem, appreciated the opportunity to construct a dirah batachtonim. They understood that building the Mishkon, and contributing to its construction, was teshuvahfor their sin and immediately responded to the appeals. They engaged in a labor of love, determined to begin again. It did not matter that the Mishkonwas to be temporary, for they would take advantage of the opportunity to become closer to Hashem and in that zechus enter Eretz Yisroel and build the permanent Bais Hamikdosh.

Alas, that was not meant to be. They sinned again, this time with the meraglim, and didn’t merit entering Eretz Yisroel. Today we suffer from the absence of the Beis Hamikdosh due to internecine hatred and battles.

A story is told about a king who announced his intention to visit a certain town. The locals were excited to finally meet their beloved monarch, and spent weeks cleaning the town and decorating the streets. A special tax was levied on the townspeople and a beautiful gift was purchased for the king.

The great day arrived. Men, women and children lined the streets, waiting for the king’s entourage to appear. After a while, it was visible on the horizon. Everyone craned their necks and saw the magnificent horse-drawn carriage as it made its way toward them.

Finally, the king himself, a tall, handsome man with royal bearing, appeared. He stepped out of the carriage and waved to the people. A special delegation, led by the mayor and local dignitaries, came forth and presented him with the gift.

The king smiled and held up his hand. “I appreciate the gift,” he said, “and in return I am giving this town a year with no taxes. In addition, I will send money to build new roads and a few parks.”

The grateful crowd, overcome with emotion and gratitude, burst into applause. The king beamed at his people and continued on to the next town, leaving behind assurances of relief and assistance.

The next week, a golden carriage pulled up to the town square. Out stepped an impressive looking man, surrounded by guards. There was no delegation to greet him and no crowds lining the streets.

The irate man claimed to be the king. He was aghast that there was no welcoming ceremony for him. The mayor was summoned and hurried to the square to explain to the guest that the king had come the week before. The new visitor explained that he was the king and that the person who had visited must have been an imposter who had taken advantage of the impending royal visit.

The mayor apologized profusely, describing to the king the expensive gift, the parades, and the cheering of the week before. The king was incensed over the insult and issued an edict raising property taxes for the town. Anybody who couldn’t pay would be thrown into jail and charged with treason for dishonoring the king’s wishes.

A local wise man approached and begged for permission to speak. “Honored king,” he said, “last week, an impostor came to town. We gave him an expensive gift and we all came forth to show respect, but we thought it was you. That gift, that parade, that reception, they were all for you, even though you didn’t see them, and they all reflected our feelings for you. Please accept that what we did was our expression of how we feel toward you.”

The king was calmed, as he recognized the truth of the wise man’s words. He offered to give the people a chance to build a monument to him and promised to return for the unvailing ceremony after its completion.

Our forefathers attributed Divine abilities to the golden calf they had fashioned from their own jewelry. Alas, they erred and served an imposter.

The binyan haMishkon presented them with an opportunity to welcome the real King. Newly pardoned, they were given a second chance. The King was coming and they were charged with making the preparations for His arrival.

This time, there would be no mistakes. They labored in joy, thrilled at the opportunity to welcome their beloved and revered King. They understood that even a short period of hashro’ashaShechinahwas worth everything.

On Purim, we sensed and felt the points of light and holiness that define us. We wished that we could keep those embers aflame longer and merit more of the joy and fulfillment we felt on that one day.

On Purim, we dress differently, as virtual masks cover our faces. When Purim is over and we go back to our regular dress, we find ourselves freshly invigorated with a renewed sense of the abilities we each carry within us.

On Purim, people shlepped with their children from rebbi to rebbi and teacher to teacher, with one eye on the road and the other on their watch. There was so much to accomplish in just a few hours. Yet, special simcha permeated the day.

We should seek to maintain the sense of the opportunities we associate with Purim, the chance to do good, to increase and spread happiness and kedushah. We need to recognize that not only Purim, but every day, is a gift from Hashem and worthy of expending the effort to construct a Mishkon, a place for Hashem, in our hearts. Every day presents new opportunities to grow, learn and achieve greatness.

On Purim, we energetically performed the mitzvos hayom, giving as much as we thought we could, and then, when we thought we were done, we gave a little more. We must learn to stretch our spiritual reserves every day. When we have pushed ourselves to our maximum ability, we will merit the eternal blessings promised to the eternal people. The amount we accomplish from the time we think we have no strength left until we are really depleted is the difference between greatness and also-rans.

The Chazon Ish would learn daily until he only had enough strength remaining to place a pillow under his head. Stories are told and retold of gedolim who would sit at their Gemaroswith their feet in buckets of cold water to keep them awake. Last week, we learned that Rav Shmuel Auerbach would learn nightly in the bais medrashuntil he fell asleep over his seforim.

Greatness means never saying, “What good is it? It’s only for a few minutes, a few days, or a few months.” Greatness means utilizing every opportunity and moment to gain knowledge and grow.

Purim is a day when we put everything else aside and spend our time in revelry and high spirits. To do this, we mask a part of our lives, the things that are disappointing or painful. We subjugate the somber tendencies to the mitzvos of simcha and mishteh. For people who can accomplish this feat, simcha shines from them with a new radiance.

Perhaps, the influence of yayinhelps some gain a new perspective on life. They realize that, for at least one day, they can set aside the pressures that sap their attention and energy. And so they smile.

When Purim has ended, we find that we have a new look and a new face. We have a new perspective. You had a great Purim when you are able to maintain that fresh perspective after the yayin has worn off and after the last mishloach manos has been eaten. Keep your priorities straight. Look for the good. Concentrate on the positive.

Sometimes, we need to be reminded to have faith in our convictions. We must have the moral courage to stand up for what we believe. A winner does not bend his beliefs to conform to popular ideas, even if not bending makes him appear to be a loser. The real loser is the one who has no courage, twists with the wind, and has no core beliefs that he is ready to fight and sacrifice for.

Rather than fall prey to apathy, fatalism or self-serving causes, let us remain idealistic, dedicated to the ideals and values of the Torah. Let us remember that elections, political intrigue and world events are veils masking the work of Hashgochah.

The posuk states, “Vayavou kol ish asher nesao libo” (35:21). Every man “whose heart lifted him” came to work on the construction of the Mishkon.

The Ramban writes that none of the people who worked on building the Mishkon had learned that trade, nor did they have any previous experience. Those who built the Mishkonwere the people who responded to the call of Hashem. Nosom libom, their hearts lifted them up. They were consumed with the desire to fulfill the wish of Hashem. They didn’t say that they weren’t trained for anything that the Mishkonrequired. They didn’t say that the work was too difficult. They didn’t say, “Leave it for someone better to do.” The Mishkon was built by men of greatness who ignored their shortcomings and pushed themselves to do what they didn’t know they could, to serve Hashem.

They achieved greatness. They brought the Shechinah here. They received the brochah of “Viyhi noam”and the Mishkon lasted much longer than anyone thought it would. In fact, the Mishkon was never destroyed. It lies in hiding, waiting for the day when we can all join together and summon the inner strength we possess to put aside all differences and work together to reestablish a dirah laHashem batachtonim with the arrival of Moshiach Tzidkeinu.

Purim is a day of chizuk that resonates in our age. As the story of Megillas Esther progressed, there was no obvious Yad Hashem involved. The people of Shushan read the newspaper and scrolled the news - pun intended - and noted the comings and goings of the various ministers and King Achashveirosh. There was lots of palace intrigue as well, but no one attached any of it to the decree against the Jews.

It was only in hindsight that the people were able to trace everything that transpired and recognize that Hashem had been pulling the strings all along.

In our day, we see things happening that make no sense to us. This president was given no chance at winning the election and he swept the Electoral College into power.

The Israeli prime minister is one of the most respected world leaders. He leads and lectures on vital matters that affect the entire world, yet he is going through the grinder at home. Though he has no obvious replacement, many wonder how much longer he will be able to remain in office. Why go through a mess like this now? Nobody knows.

We see the evil emanating from Iran and North Korea as the world remains silent. We see people starving in Venezuela, turmoil in Germany, and Muslims sweeping across Europe. Nobody does anything about any of this, and nobody seems to even care. Why? Nobody knows.

In our communities and lives, there are ups and downs, occurrences we understand and appreciate and many others that seem to defy logic.

Purim recharges us and reminds us that we are children of Hashem who know that every move here is carried out by Him up there. There is no depression and despondency when we recognize and testify that the Borei is manhig.

Thus, we bring joy to ourselves and salvation to the world. For just as the Mishkon was a reward for the Jews repenting after mistakenly thinking the Eigel would lead them (Rashi38:21), the realization of the truth in our day and placing our complete faith in Hashem will enable the Bais Hamikdosh to be built and bring about our redemption.

What is stopping us?

Chazak chazak venischazeik.

Rabbi Pinchos Lipschutz

One of the greatest Chassidic rebbes was the Izhbitzer. One of his followers was Reb Dovid of Lokov, an elderly chossid, who had known the Chozeh of Lublin and the Yid Hakadosh of Peshischa. He had frequented the courts of Kotzk and Peshischa before making his way to the Izhbitzer.

One day, as the elderly chossid was walking in Izhbitz, a young boy bumped into him. Reb Dovid turned to the precocious boy and admonished him, “Derech eretz, mein kind. Show some respect.”

The boy, a grandson of the Izhbitzer Rebbe, would grow up to be the Radziner Rebbe. He responded to the man he had bumped into, “Farvos? Why do I need to have respect for you?”

“Because I knew the Chozeh,” the elderly Reb Dovid responded.

“So what? I am a grandson of the rebbe,” the boy replied.

“How can you compare the two?” the man demanded.

“My grandfather is greater than the Chozeh!” the lad said.

That was enough for Reb Dovid, who would have no more of the insolence and smacked the boy right across his face.

The boy ran to his grandfather, crying. “Zaide, Reb Dovid hit me.”

“Why did he do that? He must have had a good reason.”

“Because I told him that you are greater than the Chozeh of Lublin. Did I not say the truth, grandfather?”

The holy Izhbitzer wiped the tears off the cheeks of his bewildered grandson. “Go back to Reb Dovid and say that I told you to tell him that it is true that there is no comparison between the Chozeh and me. But there is a difference: The Chozeh reached as high as he will reach. He can never attain more greatness, for he has passed away. I am alive. I can rise. I can grow. It is possible for me to reach the heavens in greatness.”

Life is all about potential. As long as we are alive and ambitious, we can improve. There is no imposed limit to how much we can achieve. The only thing that holds us back is ourselves and our self-imposed limitations.

We can grow to be as great as the Izhbitzer and the Chozeh if we maintain a pure heart and devote ourselves to the service of Hashem. We can become great if we control ourselves from sinning, remain humble, embrace goodness and good people, daven well, learn with diligence, and refrain from sin, pettiness and machlokes.

We all know that we have an inclination that seeks to entrap us in silliness and actions that provide momentary pleasure. We need to smack down the yeitzer hora and not permit him to gain a foothold in our hearts, souls and minds. We must allow ourselves to be guided by the yeitzer tov, doing good and being good.

Chazal’s declaration that “Ein adam choteh elah im kein nichnas bo ruach shtus” conveys that since every person understands that succeeding in life involves becoming more connected with Hashem, we seek to do mitzvos, study Torah, and be kind and caring. Knowing that aveiros distance us from Hashem, the only way we commit them is when a ruach shtus enters our mind and causes us to act in a way that will harm us and draw us away from Hashem.

The Sefer Hachinuch (95) writes that this is the reason for korbanos. The bodies of man and animal are quite similar, except that man was given intelligence and a soul; animal was not. When man sins he takes leave of his intelligence, he is essentially like an animal. Therefore, when he repents, he brings an animal to the choicest location and it is totally consumed and forgotten. This reminds him that a body without intelligence is doomed to be destroyed and erased. He remembers that he was given a body plus intellect and a soul, and he repents for his misdeed, resolving that he would not permit his intellect to give way to a ruach shtus again.

Our mission in life is to bring ourselves closer to Hashem. Every mitzvah that we perform, every word of Torah that we study, every time we do chesed, and every time we love another Jew, we are firmer in Hashem’s embrace. However, when we do an aveirah, we distance ourselves from Hashem. Aveiros create walls that separate us from Hashem. Being divisive and spreading machlokes and peirudbetween people in this world causes Jews to separate from each other and from Hashem.

Seder Vayikra is all about korbanos. The parsha begins this week with an introduction to the concept of Jews offering animal sacrifices to Hashem to atone for their sins. The posuk (Vayikra 1:2) states, “Adam ki yakriv mikem korbanlaShem,” using the word adam, instead of the usual ish, to denote man. Many reasons are offered for this.

Perhaps we can say that adam refers to the potential of man. Adam Harishon was given that name to signify that he was created from the ground, adamah. Though he had the lowliest physical beginning, he has the potential to rise to the heavens and become a spiritual being, immersed in Torah and avodah.

When a person commits an aveirah, he sinks from whatever level he has attained and becomes closer to the earth from where he began. But he has the ability to erase what he has done and resume his spiritual connection on his way to realizing his potential for greatness. A korban along with viduyand charotah returns him to the path that he was born to climb. The path of the Izhbitzer.

Perhaps we can offer a deeper explanation. Rav Chaim Vital writes cryptically in the Kisvei Arizal on Parshas Kedoshim, in explaining the mitzvahof “ve’ahavta lerei’acha kamocha,” that the concept that all of Am Yisroelare “areivim zeh lozeh” is based upon the idea that “kol Yisroel sod guf echod shel nishmas Adam Harishon.”

He says that this is the reason the Arizal would say viduy for the sins of other people, because all members of the Jewish nation are really one.

The words of the Arizal can be understood as such: Adam carried within himself the future neshamos of Klal Yisroel, and thus every Jew is a limb of one large body and we are all interconnected (Derech Mitzvosecha). The optimum behavior of Klal Yisroel is when we all recognize that we are parts of one whole, acting with unity and achdus, and caring for each other. This lies behind the command that we should love each other.

Therefore, before he davened,the Arizal would recite viduy for disparate parts of the Jewish body to bring everyone together. For just as if a korban is blemished and incomplete it cannot be offered to Hashem, so too, if the person who is bringing the korban is blemished, he is not worthy for the korban to forgive him for his sin.

It is for that reason that the Arizal instituted that prior to davening, a person should accept upon himself the mitzvas asei of “v’ohavta lerei’acha kamocha.” A person who hates another Jew, or despises him or her, is a baal mum, for he prevents himself from being connected with the entire body of Klal Yisroel.

We know that tefillah is in theplace of korbanos. Thus, just as a person’s korbanos are not accepted if they are found lacking, the same applies to his prayers.

It is for this reason that the Torah uses the appellation “Adam” when discussing the bringing of korbanos. It is to remind us that Adam Harishon embodied all the neshamos of Klal Yisroel, and if we wish to be forgiven and accepted by Hashem, we must acknowledge that since we are all interconnected, if even one person is left out, the person who is bringing the korbanand saying viduy will fail in his bid of seeking penitence.

“Adam ki yakriv mikem.” The person who is bringing the korban must acknowledge that he is a part of “mikem,” the entire klal. Just as Adam encompassed all the neshamosof Klal Yisroel, the makriv must be connected to all the neshamos b’achdus.

When we read Parshas Hachodesh this Shabbos, let us bear in mind the explanation offered by the Sefas Emes to the wording of the posuk, “Hachodesh hazeh lochem,” which literally means this month is for you. Although in this posukthe word “hachodesh” means month, it also contains a connotation for renewal, as in hischadshus.

The posukis admonishing us that the ability to be rejuvenated is up to us. At times we may fall or slip, but we don’t have to stay down. We each have the ability to pick ourselves up, to rise, and realize our potential.

Let’s do it!

Rabbi Pinchos Lipschutz

How many advertisements have you seen that claim to “make your Pesach easier this year”? How often have you heard people complaining about the price of matzoh?

Every time I hear or see such kvetching, I’d like to remind the person, who likely doesn’t know any better, that it wasn’t too long ago that Jews paid for matzoh with their lives or blood, and how thankful we should be that we live in a time when Jews are free to hold a Seder, drink wine, and eat as much matzoh as they want.

Rather than complaining, we should be thankful. Instead of seeing Yom Tov as a difficult period, we should be thankful for the opportunity to have a break from the mundane and live on a higher plane, becoming closer to Hashem, raising our levels of kedusha, and living - at least for a few days - on a more sanctified level.

Not wanting to sound sanctimonious, I usually don’t respond when such comments are offered. I know that whatever I say will sound trite and I will be accused of being uncompassionate.

The next time someone complains about the expenses and “difficulties” of Yom Tov, think of this story related by Rav Yaakov Galinsky as told to him by Rav Yitzchok Shlomo Ungar, who served as rov of K’hal Chug Chasam Sofer in Bnei Brak.

Hungarian Jewry was virtually the last to fall into the evil grip of the Nazis. During the last year of World War II, as the German army faced multiple defeats on the battlegrounds of Europe, they tightened their vice on Hungary. One million Hungarian Jews were herded into ghettos. Two months later, they were shipped off to death camps to be annihilated.

The protagonist of this story was one of those Jews. He arrived at the camp with his wife and children. They were sent straight to the gas chambers, while he was declared fit for work, tattooed with a number, and granted life. His bunkmate was a rebbishe ainikel who used every available moment to learn Torah. He would constantly offer chizukto our friend and others in the block.

One day, the bunkmate whispered to him that Pesach was coming. There was no shortage of marror, he said, but he wondered how they would be able to observe the mitzvah of eating a kezayis of matzoh.

Our friend discovered where wheat was stored for the camp. Anybody caught taking anything faced being shot dead on the spot, but the rebbishe kind told our friend that he should be prepared to risk his life for the mitzvah. He began gathering a few wheat kernels at a time and hiding them until he had enough to make flour for two kezaisim of matzoh. One day, he found two stones and used them to grind the kernels into flour. He heated a piece of metal, added water to the flour, and baked the mixture on the white-hot piece of metal.

He produced a fist-sized matzoh, thick enough for two kezeisim, one for him and one for his friend. He hid the prize under his shirt and held his arm close to his body to keep the matzohfrom falling. If he’d get caught, he’d be dead in an instant. He got past one check, but at the entrance to his block stood a Nazi, who saw that one arm was held stiffly. He pulled the arm of the hapless man and the treasure fell to the floor.

The accursed Nazi beat the man until he fainted and fell to the floor atop his matzoh. The Nazi continued stomping on him until he found another Jew to torture. The man came to, gathered as many of the crumbs and pieces of the matzoh as he could, and dragged himself to his cot, where he fainted again.

His friend found him there and waited for him to awaken. When he did, with a wide smile upon his beaten face, he told his friend what had happened. He then opened his hand to reveal his treasure, a kezayis of matzoh.

And that was when the dispute broke out.

His friend begged, “Please, let me have the matzoh. I never missed having matzoh at the Seder.”

He answered, “No way. It’s my matzoh. I almost gave my life for it. I was beaten to a pulp and fainted a couple of times. I’m not giving it up.”

And so it went, back and forth, in that awful bunk of the death camp.

“Please. I will recite for you the whole Haggadah from memory, and also the entire Shir Hashirim. You can repeat after me word by word. Just let me have the matzoh.”

“No.”

“I’ll give you my whole Olam Haba for that kezayis. I lost my wife. I lost my children. I lost everything. Please, let me have the matzoh.”

“I also lost everything. But the matzoh is mine and I am not giving it up.”

Finally, our friend, the one who is retelling the story, could take it no more and gave up. He allowed his bunkmate to eat the matzoh and say the Haggadah, but the reward for the mitzvah was to accrue to him. They cried and laughed together, doing their best to relive the deliverance from Mitzrayim, and they prayed, “Leshonah haba’ah b’Yerushalayim,” with all their hearts.

The next day, they both went out on their work detail. The rebbishe einikel began davening to himself. He got as far as Hallel and then collapsed and fell to the ground. He stood up and tried to walk, calling out the brocha, “Asher kideshanu bemitzvosav.” A Nazi bullet hit him just then. Hashem yikom damo.

The other man lived. After the war, he moved to Israel, established a new family, and became a member of the Chug Chasam Sofer kehillah.

All this he tells to Rav Ungar by way of introduction to his question.

Then he tells the rest of the story.

“Last night, that man came to me in a dream. He was dressed in white and his face was as bright as the morning sky. He said to me, ‘Do you remember when you let me eat the matzoh on the condition that you get the s’char? I came to ask you to please let me have the reward for that mitzvah. I received s’char for all the mitzvos I performed, except that one. It is the only mitzvahfor which I received no reward. Please. I beg you to let me have the reward for that mitzvah.’

“In the dream, I responded to him. I reminded him that it was my matzoh. ‘I had risked my life for it. I gathered the kernels. I ground them. I baked them. I snuck it into the camp. Each step could have gotten me killed. I was beaten for it. I could have died on the spot. You begged. You cried. I gave you the act of performing the mitzvah. At least I should get the s’char.’

“He knew I was right. He agreed. But he reminded me that he was the one who kept track of the calendar. It was he who knew that Yom Tov was days away. He was the one who had prompted me to bake the matzoh. He recited the Haggadah with me. And now he came down to this world from on high to ask for the reward for that mitzvah. It was that important to him.

“I turned him down. His face became extremely sad. He was very upset. And then he disappeared.

“With that, I woke up. My heart and mind were racing. What was I supposed to tell him? It was my mitzvah. I should get the reward. But how can I say no to a holy neshomah? How can I turn down the wish of a dead man?”

He asked Rav Ungar what he should do. Should he let the martyred man have the reward for the mitzvah of matzohor should he keep it for himself?

Rav Ungar told the man that this wasn’t a question for a rov. It was a question for a rebbe. He sent him to the Machnovke Rebbeand asked him to please return and share the response he receives.

He returned the next day and told Rav Ungar what happened by the rebbe. He found out that the rebbe saw people in the evenings and waited with bated breath at the rebbe’s door until he was able to enter. Then he told his story.

The rebbe told him that by right, he should give the reward to the other man.

“By right?” he exclaimed. “By right it belongs to me! My question is whether I should go beyond what is right and give it to him anyway.”

“No,” the rebbe responded. “You need to understand. Every day, you put on tallis and tefillin. You daven three times a day and make 100 brachos daily. There’s Shabbosand Yom Tov and so many other mitzvos that you perform. You have children who you were mechaneich to perform mitzvos, and thus you share in the reward for what they do. It is only fair that you be mevaterand let the man have the reward for that mitzvah.”

The man conceded.

“Okay,” he muttered, “if the rebbefeels that I have to give him the reward, I will.”

“No, not like that,” the rebbesaid. “You have to mean it. You have to do it b‘lev sholeim.”

The rebbe took a ring of keys from his pocket and gave them to the survivor.

“Here. This key opens the door to the bais medrash. There is nobody there. Go inside. With this key, open the aron kodesh. Stick your head in there. Pour out your heart to Hashem. Tell Him how you got to know the other man. Tell Him of your friendly relationship. Tell Him of the chizuk he gave you in that awful place. Tell Hashem that he gave you the idea to obtain matzoh there.

“Tell Hashem what it was like that Seder night, the last night of that man’s life. And when you are done, tell Hashem that b’lev sholeim you are mevater on the s’charfor the mitzvah performed that night, and you surrender it to the other man, in order to give his neshomah a nachas ruach in the olam ha’elyon. When you are done, lock up and return to me.”

The man did as the rebbe had told him. He recounted the whole experience in the camp. It took everything out of him. He could barely drag his legs away from the aron kodesh. He locked the bais medrash, but didn’t have the strength to return to the rebbe. He was drained. He gave the keys to the gabbai and asked him to tell the rebbe that he would return the next day.

He went home, collapsed into bed, and fell asleep. His friend came to him in a dream once again. With a shining face and bright countenance, he said, “Thank you,” and was gone.

The next morning, the man went to daven in the minyan of the rebbe. After davening,he went over to the rebbe and told him what happened. The rebbe was not surprised. He shared with the man a message that he remembered for the rest of his life and that we should take to heart, particularly in this period leading up to Yom Tov. This is what he said:

“Think about it. Your friend was a rebbishe kind. He grew up in a home of Torah and yiras Shomayim. There is no doubt that he performed many mitzvos. To top it off, he merited to die al kiddush Hashem. Even if Heaven would have had any complaints against him, they would have been erased. So he was a person who had only mitzvos and no aveiros, which is why Chazal say that in Gan Eden nobody can come close to people who were killed al kiddush Hashem. They are in the most exalted place.

“Yet, it was worth it for him to leave the bliss of basking in the glow of the Shechinah to come down here, to come like a beggar, and plead with you to give him the reward of just one more mitzvah. Think about what that tells you regarding the value of a single mitzvah.

“And here we are, with the opportunity everywhere to pick up mitzvos,and we don’t run after them. Every parsha of the Torah, every Mishnah and every page of Gemaracontains so many mitzvos, yet we lackadaisically waste time.

“Every time we help someone, when we just say a nice word to someone, we get another mitzvah, yet we ignore other people. Think about it.”

The man returned to Rav Ungar and told him all that happened and what the rebbe said.

There are so many teachings of Chazalabout the value of a mitzvah. There are so many lessons we have come across in our lifetimes about the reward that awaits those who fulfill Hashem’s commandments, but rather than engage in a discussion of them as we usually do in this space, I thought to try something else and instead, transcribed this story.

How can we not be moved by it? Who can complain about the price of a kezayis of matzoh after reading this? Who cannot feel proud to be a Jew? Who cannot be excited that Pesach- the Yom Tov of cheirus, daled kosos, Mah Nishtanahand matzoh - is almost here?

Let us get our priorities straight and enjoy and appreciate all we have been blessed with.

By Rabbi Pinchos Lipschutz

As we approach one of the many peaks of the Seder, we raise the matzah and recite Ha LachmaAnya, opening the Maggid section. Speaking in unfamiliar Aramaic, we begin by stating that the matzah we are about to eat is the same matzah as our forefathers ate in Mitzrayim.

We continue with a seemingly unconnected invitation to poor people to join our meal. We conclude with the declaration that this year we are here, in golus, but next year we will be in Eretz Yisroel. Now we are enslaved, but in the coming year we will be free.

Why does this series of statements open the discussion about Yetzias Mitzrayim? What is the connection between these sentences? Why do we hold up the matzah?

Repeatedly, the Torahrefers to the Yom Tov of Pesach as Chag Hamatzos. In davening and Kiddush, we also refer to the Yom Tov as YomChag Hamatzos. Why is matzah the symbol of Pesach?

The first time the Bnei Yisroel ate matzah was as they left Mitzrayim. Writing about that time, the Yalkut Shimoni in Parshas Beshalachsays, “Lo nigalu Yisroel ela b’zechus emunah, shene’emar, ‘Vaya’amein ha’am.’” The Jews were redeemed from Mitzrayim because of their deep belief in Hashem.

However, that statement apparently contradicts the Chazal that says the Jews and the Mitzrim were basically on the same low spiritual level at the time of Yetzias Mitzrayim. If so, how can we then say that they were taken out of Mitzrayim because of their emunah in Hashem?

The Zohar refers to matzah as “michla demehemnusah,” food of emunah.We can understand that to mean that upon eating the matzah while leaving Mitzrayim, the Bnei Yisroel were infused with emunah, and through that emunah, they merited the geulah.

An explanation of the power of matzah appears in the Sefer Afikei Mayim, based on the shiurim of Rav Moshe Shapiro, who elucidates the often-discussed idea that matzah is a tikkun for the cheit of Adam Harishon.

We can understand the connection through a Gemara (Brachos 40a) that cites the opinion of Rabi Yehuda who explains that the Eitz Hadaas from which Adam ate was wheat. The Gemara explains that we see that wheat is connected to daas, because a child cannot call his father or mother until he tastes wheat. When we partook of the matzah at the time of Yetzias Mitzrayim, our daas was enhanced and we gained the ability to connect to Hashem on a higher level.

The idea that those who believe in Hashem and place their faith in him see salvation is presented in pesukim, Chazal, Rishonim and Acharonim. It is the way we should lead our lives if we wish to merit success in all we do.

The Ramban (Emunah Ubitachon 1) points out that the posuk in Tehillim (37:3) states, “Betach baHashem va’asei tov - Have faith in Hashem and do good,” instead of stating, “Do good and trust in Hashem.” This is because bitachon is not dependent on a person’s good actions.

The Brisker Rov expressed a similar idea. The posuk (Tehillim 33:21) states, “Ki vo yismach libeinu ki vesheim kadsho botochnuyehi chasdecha Hashem aleinu ka’asher yichalnu loch.” The Rov read it to be saying that the amount of faith we have in Hashem is the degree to which Hashem will deal with us mercifully.

Rabbeinu Bachya writes explicitly (Kad Vekemach, Bitachon) that it was in merit of their belief that the Jews were redeemed from Mitzrayim. He cites the posuk in Tehillim (22:6) of “Eilecha zo’aku venimlotu,” and says that the reason they were saved was because “becha votchu velo voshu,” they believed.

The Meshech Chochmah, onthe posuk of “Ushemartem es hamatzos” (Shemos 12:17), writes that when the Bnei Yisroel will be shomer the matzos (and other mitzvos of Nissan), Hashem will be shomer the night of the Seder to redeem them.

Rabbeinu Yonah writes in Mishlei(3:26) that a person who trusts in Hashem is saved from a tzarah even if he deserved the tzarah. A person’s bitachon prevents the problem from afflicting him. As the Yalkutsays in Tehillim (32), “even a rasha who has bitachon is surrounded by chesed.”

The ChofetzChaim (Sheim Olam, Nefutzos Yisroel 9) quotes the Vilna Gaon who said that bitachon is not dependent upon a person’s zechuyos. Even a person who is not properly observant but maintains strong belief is protected by his bitachon and Hashem acts charitably with him.

Bitachon is not something that is reserved only for big tzaddikim. Any one of us, no matter our level, can have perfect emunah and bitachon. When faced with a problem, when it appears as if life is being tough with us, we all have the ability to be boteiach in Hashem and be helped.

Matzah is the symbol of Pesach because it encompasses all the messages of the Seder. As we consider and contemplate the exalted moment when our forefathers left Mitzrayim, we eat the very same matzah, unchanged in formula and taste, at the very moment they did, on the same night, year after year, century after century, going back all the way to the day our nation was founded. With this matzah, we became a nation. We gave up avodah zora, left the shibbud Mitzrayim, and emerged as bnei chorin.

This is as prescribed by the Rambam, who states (Hilchos Chometz Umatzah 7:1), “There is a positive commandment to discuss the miracles that were performed for our forefathers in Mitzrayim on the evening of the 15th of Nissan, as the posuk says, ‘Zachor, remember the day you left Mitzrayim…,’ and the posuk states, ‘Vehigadeta livincha,’ to tell your children on that night, meaning the night on which matzah and maror are placed before you.”

The Ramban at the end of Parshas Bo discusses the centrality of sippur Yetzias Mitzrayimto Jewish belief: “Because Hashem does not perform public miracles in each generation for scoffers to witness, He commanded us that we should make memorials for what we saw and tell our children what transpired so that they will know and pass along to their children the great miracles that were performed on our behalf. This is why so many mitzvos are zeicher l’Yetzias Mitzrayim, in commemoration of our redemption from Mitzrayim, so that future generations will remember what Hashem did for us then.

“And just as Hashem publicly performed miracles for the Jews in Mitzrayim, so does He perform miracles for us every day of our lives. Those who observe the mitzvos are rewarded, and those who do not are punished.”

This is the foundation of Jewish belief and what we refer to as Hashgocha Protis. When we sit at the Seder and retell the stories of the many miracles that took place at that time, we increase our emunah and bitachon, and that engenders more zechuyos for us. This is another indication and explanation of the statement of the Zohar that matzah is michla demehemnusah, the food of faith.

With this in mind, we can explain why we begin the Seder by saying, “Ha lachma anya di achalu avhasana b’ara d’Mitzrayim.” We proclaim that this is the bread that our forefathers ate in Mitzrayim when they were still poor and lacking in their observance of mitzvos,as well as in their emunah and bitachon in Hashem. Upon eating the matzah, they were strengthened in their emunah and belief in Hashem and thus merited redemption from slavery.

Thus, we advise people who are lacking in faith, “Kol ditzrich yeisei veyeichol. Join us and partake of the matzah, michla demehemnusah. Doing so will infuse you with faith.” Then we can say, “Hoshata hocha leshana haba’ah b’ara d’Yisroel.” Those who are still needy and lacking in their faith will, by eating the matzah, become strengthened in emunah and bitachon and worthy of the geulah sheleimah bekarov. “Hoshata avdi leshana haba’ah bnei chorin.” Before partaking of the matzah and discussing the exit from Mitzrayim, we are slaves to our desires. After the matzah and reliving the geulah experience, we become free.

The Gemara in Maseches Brachos (17a) relates that Klal Yisroel tells Hashem, “Galui veyodua lefonecha sheretzoneinu laasos es retzonecha. Umi me’akeiv? Se’or sheba’isa. We wish to fulfill Your will, but the se’or sheba’isa prevents us.” Rashiexplains that se’or sheba’isa is the yeitzer hora, which ferments us as yeast ferments dough.

Matzah is lechem geulim because it is baked without chimutz, without se’or. One who subjugates his yeitzer hora is a ga’ul. He is redeemed and free. Thus, Chazal state, “Ein lecha ben chorin ela mi she’oseik baTorah.” The free man is occupied with Torah, for he has conquered his yeitzer hora.

The original matzahdidn’t rise because, as we say in the Haggadah, “Lo hispik lehachmitz ad sheniglahaleihem Melech Malchei Hamelochim uge’olom.” Hashem redeemed the Jewish people from Mitzrayim suddenly, before the dough they were baking for their trip was able to rise, and thus they were left with matzah.

Matzah symbolizes freedom, because it came into existence amidst the great urgency with which Hashem hurried His people out of Mitzrayim. The cause - Jewish nationhood - didn’t allow for the bread to reach completion. It didn’t allow for se’orand chimutz. Bread of freedom and a life of freedom are brought about by the same process: removal of se’or and chimutz. A person cleanses his soul of sin by being preoccupied with serving Hashem and studying Torah instead of feeding temptations. Doing so helps man break free from the various burdens and obligations life places upon him.

We open our Sederwith the statement that the night - the entire Yom Tov, in fact- is about the matzah, the food of freedom. The first phrase tells us that it was “eaten when we left Mitzrayim,” in reference to our being rushed out. It was baked without the se’or sheba’isah.

We address the ditzrich, turning to those who are lacking in life and service to Hashem. “Join us!” we say. “Eat and learn from the matzah, and you will also be blessed and free along with us and all those who enjoy the blessings of Pesach. You will be impoverished no more.”

We continue by acknowledging that while we are now unable to bring the Korban Pesach, if we have indeed internalized the message of the matzah, we will be able to offer Pesochim and Zevochim next year in Eretz Yisroel.

Finally, we acknowledge that now we are still enslaved. The se’or sheba’isah interferes with our lives. We have been unable to expel it from our souls. We affirm our commitment to examining the message, studying the lessons of “Ha Lachma Anya.” Even though we are now captive to the yeitzer hora, we resolve that by next year, we will be free of its domination over us. We remind ourselves that the matzah is lechem geulim. Not only is it the bread of the free, but it helps those enslaved to gain their freedom.

Simple, unconstrained, and as free as the matzah.

Fortunate is he who doesn’t require suffering or challenges to be reminded of his essence but is able to see it clearly in good times as well.

With this insight into matzah and its message, we can begin to celebrate, starting with genus and marching our way on to geulah, a journey from Ha Lachma Anya through Afikoman.

After partaking of the Afikomanmatzah, we are forbidden to eat anything, for we must keep that message fresh on our palates. We must not forget what we have learned and experienced on this night.

The matzah has seen us in times of strength and apparent weakness, but always with faith in Hashem and our future. Always with the knowledge that come what may, we are the am hanivchor, chosen, blessed and free.

We cherish the taste of matzah. We eat it and become transformed. We become strengthened in our belief and become worthy of geulah. With our newfound emunah and bitachon, we are capable of transcending limitations imposed by the se’or sheba’isahand the challenges of golus.

No matter what ails and confounds us, and regardless of the difficulties we have in our daily lives, we remain steadfast in our faith in Hashem, acting as bnei chorin.

Pesach is the Yom Tov of emunah. Let us learn its lessons, observe its mitzvos, partake in its matzah, and merit personal and communal geulah.

Leshanah haba’ah bnei chorin be’ara d’Yisroel.

Rabbi Pinchos Lipschutz

When the news is too awful to bear, when death befalls people young and dear, when fire consumes good people at a time marked for joy, it is a time of “vayidom,” thousands of years ago and today. With super-human strength and hearts tough as steel, it is a time of “vayidom.”

Parshas Shemini offers uplifting lessons to illuminate our paths in times of doubt and difficulty.

At the time of Krias Yam Suf, a fearful nation was told, “Hashem yilocheim lochem ve’atem tacharishun - Your duty at this time is to remain silent, as Hashem defeats the Mitzriyim” (Shemos 14:14).

Chazal state that this advice is eternally relevant, as pertinent today as it was then. There are times when we must speak up and times when we should remain silent, times to do battle and times to be passive.

As the Jews stood at the Yam Suf with nowhere to go and the Mitzriyim quickly approaching, Hakadosh Boruch Hu told Moshe that it wasn’t a time to stand in lengthy prayer: “Lo eissatah leha’arich b’tefillah.”While in a time of danger we normally cry out to Hashem for salvation, this time was different.

There is an “eis,”a time, for everything, as expressed by Shlomo Hamelech in Koheles: “Eis livkos ve’eis lischok… Eis le’ehov ve’eis lisno, eis milchomah ve’eis shalom.” How we are to act in each “eis” is determined by the Torah.

Often, a good person is described as a “kovei’a ittim.” Homiletically, the phrase may have come about as a depiction of people who determine what type of eis it is and how to react to various ittim through the prism of Torah. When we say that a person is “kovei’a ittim,” we are saying that the Torah is his foundation and solidifies his responses to the vagaries of life. His reactions are dictated by the Torah.

In Parshas Shemini, we learn that Aharon Hakohein felt unworthy when he was selected to perform the avodah in the Mishkon. The posuk states that he was commanded to approach the mizbei’ach: “Krav el hamizbei’ach.” Rashi quotes Chazal, who explain the strange language as teaching that Aharon was told, “Set aside your humility, because you were Divinely chosen for this task.”

Although Aharon preferred to remain in the background, when told that it was an eis for him to step into a leadership position, he was spurred to action.

His sons, Nodov and Avihu, however, sought to go where they didn’t belong. They reasoned that they were worthy of making decisions regarding the Mishkon. On their own, they decided that they were to bring an offering of flaming ketores. The posuk (Vayikra 10:1-2) states, “Vayakrivu lifnei Hashem eish zora asher lo tziva osam - They brought a strange fire that they were not commanded to do.” Because of that, a fire that emanated “milifnei Hashem” killed them.

The Torah refers to the fire they offered as “strange” and explains what was strange about it: asher lo tziva osam, it wasn’t commanded. It was their own idea, and thus it was strange and unwanted. They meant well, wishing to share in the great celebration and helping out in the consecration of the Mishkon, but because it wasn’t based on Torah or mesorah, it was strange and unwanted. Thus, a fire went out milifnei Hashem and smote them.

People in our age who act based upon their own limited intelligence, ignoring or twisting halacha and mesorah to comply with what they think is necessary and makes sense, are worthy of condemnation as they play with fire.

Throughout the ages, our leaders were trained and formed in the crucible of Torah. Our people never looked to those who pushed themselves and forced themselves into positions of influence. Torah is the domain of the humble and the self-effacing.

Nodov and Avihu were well-intentioned, but hubris misled them and caused them to be lost to the Jewish people. Humility doesn’t mean that it is not important to be confident in our abilities. Humility means that although we appreciate our attributes, we accept upon ourselves the kevias ittim of Torah. We recognize that we are under the jurisdiction of the halachos and moral demands of the Torah. We don’t think that we are smarter or better than those who came before us. We don’t speak out of turn, and those of us who are not fully versed in halacha and hashkafah defer to those who are. We don’t make our own rules and set our own guidelines that are not in keeping with the way our people have been conducting themselves over the past millennia.

Because of his humility, Aharon Hakohein merited a life of closeness toHashem, working in the Mishkon. He sought to distance himself from leadership, for he felt himself unworthy, but once he was commanded to rise, he fully embraced the position. As he served Hashem on the holiest levels, mentoring his people wasn’t beneath him. The oheiv eshabrios umekarvan laTorah lived on the golden path, traveling the road of harmony.

Upon the demise of Nodov and Avihu, the Torah tells us, “Vayidom Aharon.” Their great father, the kohein gadol, who had just initiated his role in the Heichal Hashem, was silent. Aharon, a competent and experienced communicator, was undoubtedly able to express himself very well. After all, he was Moshe Rabbeinu’s spokesman. He was a man who pursued peace, settled disputes, and drew people closer to Torah. Why is it that when his two great sons were taken from him, he remained silent?

Because that is what was demanded by the Torahduring this“eis.”

It was an eis lishtok.

He had no mesorah of how to respond. Nobody had ever experienced a tragedy like this. He had no tradition of how a father reacts when losing children who were moreh halacha lifnei rabbon, being makriv an eish zora at the chanukas haMikdosh. They were great men, with righteous intentions, but Aharon remembered the lesson of “Ve’atem tacharishun.”

Sometimes, silence is the correct response.

In life, we are often tested. Sometimes, it is proper to speak up. Other times, the best reaction is to remain silent.

When we are not aware of the mesorah for how to respond, we remain silent and wait for those more qualified than us to speak and provide direction. We are not to view ourselves in grandiose terms, as if we are able to chart the proper course.

Through perfecting the art of silence, we merit the gift of speech. Chazal tell us that the reward for Aharon’s silence was that in the following parsha, the rule that kohanim may not become intoxicated at the time of avodah was told by Hashem to Aharon alone. Because he remained silent, Aharon was given a special mitzvah to transmit. He was called upon to speak.

The depth of his reward is that there is no mandate to be quiet or to speak. The only mandate is to follow the ratzon Hashem. Our task is to be “kovei’a ittim.”

There are many issues regarding which we have no clear guidance. There are so many things that transpire that we don’t understand. We must bend our ears to theTorahand hear what it says. In times of happiness and other times, we have to think about how theTorah would want us to act. What would our parents and grandparents say? How would they react? What would our rabbeim say? They knew better, and they know better, because they know how to be kovei’a ittim al pi haTorah, and we have to learn from them to be quiet, tzonuah and humble, and how to be mekabel din and tochacha.

“Vayidom Aharon.” When his sons died on the day of the chanukas haMishkon, Aharon was silent. He accepted what happened, knowing that Hashem willed it so. And because he was quiet at that moment, he merited speaking to Hashemand to the Jewish people and performing the avodah. His silence paved the path for his family for generations to come and for Jewish leaders for all time.

Was he quiet or talkative? He was neither. He was an eved Hashem, devoted to following Hashem’s will, perceiving the change in ittim and reacting. He knew that nothing happens out of happenstance, and if tragedy occurs, it is because Hashem willed it so. Our duty is to accept what Hashem has done and wait until another day to properly comprehend what transpired.

The person who lives with bitachon is at peace. He is not easily rattled. No matter what happens, he is able to maintain his equilibrium. Vayidom Aharon. Because Aharon was a man of faith and didn’t become rattled, he was able to see the big picture and recognized that a kiddush Hashem was created by the deaths of his sons. He thus returned to the avodah“ka’asher tzivah Hashem,” for as a humble, G-d-fearing person, he knew that his role was to submit to the ratzon Hashem.

Following the Holocaust, there were two courses of action for survivors. Their harrowing experiences left many forlorn and broken. They lost their will to live and felt that Hashem had forsaken them. And who can blame them? They couldn’t recover.

But there were people whose emunah was stronger, and although they had lived through those same experiences as the people who became depressed and lost, they put their lives back together, established new homes, and found what to celebrate about as they went on to live productive lives of “vayidom,” neither complaining nor becoming immobilized by their multiple tragedies.

Far be it for us to comprehend what they lived through or to judge the people who were subjected to sub-human abuse, but we can learn from them. Each one of those people, from the simple Jews to the venerated leaders, is a hero to our nation. Together, they rebuilt and resurrected a decimated people. Their bodies were ripped apart, their families were destroyed, they were penniless and lonely, but their souls remained whole and pure.

When tragedy strikes, a person becomes overcome with pain and sadness and it becomes difficult to function. A person who is “koveia ittim” knows that Hashem maintains Hashgocha Protis on the world.

Whatever life does to us, we must remain whole and unbroken. Sometimes, the temptation is to fall apart and break down. If we can rise above tragic experiences in a state of “vayidom,” we can remain resolute despite setbacks. Of course, it’s easier said than done. Oftentimes, we need the help and reassurance of good people to keep us on track, but survival and endurance beat the alternative.

No matter where we are, a Jew is always surrounded by opportunities to accomplish and prevail, though each place, season and moment has a specific avodah. We are never alone if we are ensconced in the “dalet amos shel halacha,” governed by the halachos and hashkafos of the Torah.

May the clarity of emunah and bitachon lead our paths, so that we merit living as ehrlicheYidden, servants of Hashem,eagerly awaiting the arrival of Moshiach tzidkeinu bekarov.

Rabbi Pinchos Lipschutz

Shortly after the passing of Holocaust survivor Rav Avraham Steiner at the age of 96 in Bnei Brak, Rav Moshe Greineman related the following story that he heard at the shivah.

Rabbi Steiner served in a German labor camp during the Second World War. In that awful place, every evening, when the ragtag group of laborers would return to the camp from their tortuous work, the SS commander would call out the name of one of the Jews. As the man would approach, the evil German would shoot him once in the head and another innocent Jewish life would be snuffed out by a Nazi. This would happen every day.

One evening, the murderer looked at the list of inmates and called out the name Wolfgang Cohen. Not wanting to die, Mr. Cohen pointed to Avrohom Steiner and called out to him, “Wolfgang Cohen, why don’t you go up? Your name was called!”

In the seconds that Rabbi Steiner was thinking about what to do, the posuk of “Shomer piv uleshonoshomer mitzaros nafsho” (Mishlei 21:23) came to mind. He decided that he would not reveal to the Nazi that Cohen was looking to save his own life and forcing him to go instead of him. He would answer the call of the Nazi and the rest would be up to Hashem.

He recited Shema Yisroel and headed for the spot where the Nazi would kill the Jews every night. Suddenly, the Nazi called out, “Cohen, halt. Every night I kill one Jew and spare the rest. Tonight, I’m doing it differently. Tonight, I am sparing the person whose name I called out and killing the rest of the group.”

And thus, Rav Steiner lived, while Cohen and the rest died. He was “shomer piv.” He was able to control himself from tattling on Cohen, and he lived a long and fruitful life in Bnei Brak, reaching the age of 96, the numerical equivalent of the word “piv.”

His ability to control his speech granted him life - a very long life.

From where did he derive the strength to be shomer piv to such a degree?

We are currently in the last stages of the final golus. While earlier exiles were caused by the sins of avodah zorah, giluy arayos and shefichas domim, the current golus is caused by lashon hora and sinas chinom.

To merit redemption from this golus, we have to uproot those sins from our midst.

What causes these sins? Why are they so rampant in our world? Why can’t we rid ourselves of them?

Rav Yitzchok Eizik Chover writes (Ohr Torah 27) that the sins of lashon hora and sinas chinom are caused by bittul Torah. The remedy for them is, as the posuk says, “Marpeh lashon eitz chaim - The study of Torah heals the sins of the mouth” (Mishlei 15:4).

Individuals speak ill of others, dislike others, and despise their very existence for no reason. Today, hate is so prevalent. You don’t need a reason to hate someone. If someone davens differently than you, you hate him. If his kids go to a school you don’t like, you hate him. If he drives the wrong car, you hate him. If his beard is too long or too short, or he doesn’t have one at all, you hate him.

Hate. Hate. Hate. It’s all over. It’s rampant.

Why? Where does it come from?

The simple explanation is that the urge - nay, the need - to speak lashon hora is brought on by our need for respect. In order to earn the respect of others, people mock other people and tell tales about them. By lowering the respect people have for others, we imagine that they will have more respect for us. It is a silly theory, but it is common practice.

People seem to be saying, “Don’t judge me and find me lacking. Love me and look at the many deficiencies of the other fellow.” Jealousy, middos ra’os, and the need to be popular come into play as people speak lashon hora.

Sadly, they think that they will be happier, more satisfied and respected if they cause people to look down upon others. They don’t realize that it is not a zero-sum game in which they gain when the other person loses.

In fact, each person has a different mission in life and is given different abilities and blessings that are required to accomplish their mission. Happiness and satisfaction are brought on by working towards our individual missions and thereby improving ourselves and the world. Negating the accomplishments, possessions and attributes of other people is of no help in realizing our own missions or in acquiring happiness and earning respect.

Believing that what you have is from Hashem helps you appreciate what you’ve been blessed with. There is then no need to ridicule or be jealous of others.

When my dear friend, Sholom Mordechai Rubashkin, was transferred to a New York area federal prison after his egregious 27-year sentence was handed down, he received a lot of mail. His case had been highlighted, as we know, and the obvious injustice of the sentence caused many people to reach out to him.

While he would receive dozens of letters daily, the majority of the inmates, who got minimal mail, were angry at the newcomer. They were furious that he got so much mail, while they got barely anything. They even told him that they weren’t getting mail because he was. Then, one day, he explained it to them.

He said to the inmates, “The reason you aren’t getting mail is because nobody took an envelope and wrote your address upon it. These letters aren’t addressed to you, and even were I to distribute these envelopes to all of you, when you opened them, you wouldn’t be able to understand what the people are writing. Many are written in Hebrew and Yiddish, and besides, reading that my mother loves me would have no emotional value to you.

“Each person has their own mail. Fretting about the amount I receive will not help you at all.”

It is not only his mail that we shouldn’t be jealous of. The same goes for every possession a person has. He has it because Hashem put his address on it. He has it because Hashem decided he should have it to be able to fulfill his mission in life. Being jealous of another person’s possessions makes as much sense as being jealous of the amount of mail received by a poor, helpless, incarcerated person.

Emunah and bitachon are strengthened by the study of Torah and mussar. Thus, we can say that bittul Torah leads to lashon hora. As helpful as the programs and lessons about lashon hora and sinas chinom are, if we don’t get to the root of the problem, if we don’t increase our Torah study, if we don’t strengthen our belief in Hashgocha protis, the problem will persist.

Rav Tzadok Hakohein (Pri Tzaddik, Rosh Chodesh Nissan) says that Moshe Rabbeinu told Hashem that appealing to Paroh would be of no use. “Aich yishmo’eini Pharoh,” Paroh will not listen, he explained, because “va’ani aral sefosoyim.”

Although Hashem, who is “som peh l’adam,” assured Moshe Rabbeinu that He would repair his speech defect and Paroh would accept what he says, Moshe explained his reticence in approaching Paroh, because he was “aral sefosoyim,” referring to the klipah of tumah in the hearts of the Jewish people, which caused their disconnect from Torah and an inability to listen to Moshe.

This is what he meant when he said, “Hein Bnei Yisroel lo shome’u eilayve’aich yishmo’eini Pharoh va’ani aral sefosoyim.” Orlah refers to the yeitzer hora. Moshe complained that the yeitzer hora was blocking the Jewish people from hearing his voice.

When Hashem told Moshe, “Hachodesh hazeh lochem,” He gave the Jewish people the strength to inject kedusha into the month of Nissan. With the added kedusha ofthe month, the Jews were able to overcome the areilus. Armed with increased kedusha, they were able to return to study Torah. The combination of added kedusha and Torah did away with the “aral sefosoyim,” which was caused by the general spiritual weakness of the Bnei Yisroel.

With the areilus of Moshe’s speech no longer present, the go’el was able to speak to Paroh. Geulah was now on the horizon.

Even though everything Moshe said was as commanded by Hashem, without the added kedusha and Torah, people were unable to comprehend him.

We read in this week’s parsha,“Uvayom hashemini yimol besar orlaso”(Vayikra 12:3). The orlah of the bosor is removed by others on the eighth day of a boy’s life. However, the orlah of the heart and soul are much more difficult to remove, plus we have to do that ourselves. No one can do it for us.

It is through added kedusha that our mouths are cleansed of their sins of lashon hora and sinas chinom, and are able to speak lovingly of our fellow man and Hashem. We are able to use the gift of speech positively and sing the praises of Hashem for granting us the ability to speak and love.

Imagine a young musician blessed with a rare ability to make the keys of the piano dance. He plays beautifully, but since he is incredibly poor, he learns a trade and becomes a plumber. Even if he succeeds and becomes the most successful plumber in town, part of him is dead. There is unexpressed song inside him, and as he works on pipes and drains, he dreams of music. All day long, as he goes about his business, he thinks about music. He plays piano in his head while he repairs leaks with his blessed fingers. Perhaps nobody notices this about him, but that is because they don’t really know him.

As Klal Yisroel slaved in Mitzrayim, they were a nation with a song trapped inside of them. They were unable to express themselves. The avdus and tumah locked their ideas and attitudes inside of them. Areilus jumbled their abilities.

When they were redeemed and removed from avdus and tumah, their gifts of speech burst forth, along with wellsprings of kedusha and depth.

Parshas Tazria teaches us the majesty of man.

Man, unique among all creations, is blessed with speech. But he must keep it pure, for impure speech results in the immediate and obvious punishment of tzoraas.

The punishment for this aveirah is unique in that it causes deformities on the sinner’s body, home and clothing, for the person who speaks improperly betrays his soul and demonstrates a lack of belief that everything that transpires in this world is directed by the Creator.

A person who has proper emunah and bitachon is unfazed when another person seems to be more successful than he is, for he knows that everyone receives what Hashem determines he should get. Thus, there is no room for jealousy, hatred or speaking ill of others.

Therefore, someone who engages in such behavior is struck by a punishment that directly demonstrates that Hashem watches over and monitors every person. When a person sins in these matters, he is separated from the community and given time to ponder what caused the nega of tzoraas. He realizes that it came from Hashem, who provides for all of mankind, and recognizes that his sin was caused by a lack of faith in that regard. When he repents and accepts that Hashem cares for all, his nega is healed and he can return to properly serving Hashem and utilizing the gift of speech.

The majesty and supremacy of man are arrived at by responsibly using each word and understanding its potential to build worlds.

Each one of us is a scion of majesty and greatness. Every word we utter must be precious to us. Everything we say should be measured and clearly thought through before being spoken. Our dikduk b’mitzvos needs to be matched by meticulousness in the words used to express an idea and to explain deep Torah thoughts and concepts.

With emunah and bitachon guiding our lives, we live the way a Jew should live, remembering what should be important to us and that the material is immaterial when it comes to living a Torah life. We need to concern ourselves with Hashem’s wishes, cognizant of the fact that we are in golus, never succumbing to the areilus that overtakes those who lose sight of the fact that we have to be working towards the geulah.

Parshas Tazria reminds us not to allow the tumah of our surroundings to influence us, but to live lives of kedusha and taharah, dedicated to dikduk b’lashon, kiyum hamitzvos and limud haTorah.

Why, people ask, does this publication report news? Because we don’t want our neshamos sullied by flipping through the pages of newspapers and magazines. Media sinks to the gutter as they report all sensational and irrelevant details, dragging down all who read and discuss what passes nowadays for news.

We don’t want to be reading lashon hora. We don’t want to be reading tumah. We want to maintain lives of kedusha, keeping ourselves on a level at which shomrei Torah umitzvos belong. To think and act properly, we have to maintain a distance from material that sullies our neshamos.

In Golus Mitzrayim, the culture was so depraved that its influence caused the Bnei Yisroel to sink to the lowest levels of tumah. In the golus in which we currently find ourselves, the culture and media have been steadily sinking to lower levels. By following their lead and discussing the matters they purvey to us, we can become tomei.

To be deserving of redemption, we must increase our devotion to Torah, so that the areilus that hardens souls and causes engagement in lashonhora and sinas chinom will fade, and soon we will be able to hear Eliyohu Hanovi telling us, “Higi’a zeman geulaschem.”

Rabbi Pinchos Lipschutz

During World War I, Eastern European Jewry was displaced. When the war ended, many found themselves in different towns than the ones they had previous lived and been raised in. Separated from their shtetlach, rabbonim and shuls, many were cut off from their spiritual nourishment and were weakened in their Torah observance.

A maggid arrived in the Radin Yeshiva as the Chofetz Chaim was addressing the bochurim, requesting that those blessed with oratory and communication skills use them to convince people to do teshuvah and return to the Yiddishkeit of their forbears.

When the sage finished speaking, the guest approached him. “Rebbe,” he said, “I came here from the big city. While there, I learned that there was a slackening in the observance of the halachos of Shabbos and taharah. I walked up to the bimah to deliver words of protest and inspiration for improvement. Even before I was finished speaking, people began getting up and berating me. I hurriedly finished my drosha and was very embarrassingly chased from the shul.

“Why are you setting up your talmidim for such failure? Perhaps, at a time like this, it is preferable to remain silent, for the people aren’t interested in hearing our message.”

The Chofetz Chaim asked the traveling darshan, “Please portray for me how you addressed the people in that shul.”

The maggid was surprised by the question. “How did I address them? What’s the question? I screamed the way a person screams when his house is going up in flames. Is there any other way to speak when people are trampling on all that is holy and dear?”

Softly, the Chofetz Chaim responded to the man, “Tell me, when you put on tefillin in the morning, did you also scream and yell? Explain to me, please, the difference between the observance of the mitzvah of tefillin and the mitzvah of tochacha. Just as there is no need to scream loudly when performing the mitzvah of ‘Ukeshartom le’os al yodecha’ (Devorim 6:8), there is no need to scream when performing the mitzvah of ‘Hochei’ach tochiach es amisecha’ (Vayikra 19:17).”

This week’s parsha of Kedoshim was given by Moshe “behakheil,”to the entirety of Klal Yisroel, the Toras Kohanim says, because “rov gufei Torah teluyim bah,” most of the rules of the Torah are dependent on it. Rishonim and Acharonim propose various explanations of the importance of Parshas Kedoshim.

Perhaps we can explain that not only are the commandments and teachings of this week’s parsha relevant to daily life and to each person, but also are the deeper lessons and understandings derived from the nuances and study of the exact text of the commandment relevant to much of our daily social interaction.

Take the commandment of tochacha, to reprove a person who sins. We might think that we admonish that person with spite and anger for their bad deed. We might believe that we should publicly shame the sinner without concern for his feelings.

The Torah follows the commandment of “hochei’ach tochiach es amisecha” with “velo sisa olov cheit– and you should not carry a sin for this.” We are being told how to conduct ourselves. Ostensibly, it means that since “kol Yisroel areivim zeh lozeh,” we are responsible for each other and we are obligated to set others straight. It also means that when we find a need to rebuke someone, we should do so in a way in which we do not sin by causing the person embarrassment. Also, discussing the transgression with him prevents you from transgressing the sin that precedes the mitzvah of tochacha in the posuk, namely, “lo sisna es achicha b’levovecha,” secretly disliking a fellow Jew.

All of this is included in the commandment that follows: “ve’ohavta lerei’acha kamocha,” to love every Jew as you love yourself.

These mitzvos, and the others like them that are included in Parshas Kedoshim, are taught “behakheil,” because they are far reaching and represent what our core is.

This is the meaning, as well, of Hillel Hazokein’s statement to the man who wanted to know the entire Torah while standing on one leg. Hillel said that it’s all about “ve’ohavta lerei’acha kamocha,” because that is the foundation of Judaism.

We learn in Pirkei Avos (6:6) that there are 48 methods with which a person acquires Torah. All of them pertain to proper middos, conduct and achdus, representative of the commandments listed in Parshas Kedoshim. Thus, without observing “ve’ohavta lerei’acha kamocha,” a person cannot acquire Torah.

We are currently in the period of Sefiras Ha’omer. The Alter of Kelm would say that each day, we attempt to secure for ourselves another one of the 48 methods through which Torah is acquired.

We refer to the act of daily counting during the seven weeks from the offering of the korban ha’omer until the day of kabbolas haTorah as “Sefiras Ha’omer,” the counting of the omer. Why? The counting, seemingly, has nothing to do with the omer. Rather, it is a countdown from the days when we were released from slavery in Mitzryaim to the day the Torah was given.

Hashem freed us from Mitzrayim so that He could give us the Torah at Har Sinai on Shavuos. With anticipation, we count towards the great day. What does it have to do with the omer?

It is commonly taught that se’orim, barley, of which the korban omer is comprised, is a “maachal beheimah,” a low form of grain that is grown for animal consumption. We count from the low level that we were on upon our exit from Mitzrayim and seek to improve daily until we reach the summit of Har Sinai and are worthy of accepting the Torah on Shavuos.

In fact, the Rambam (Hilchos Temidim Umusofim 7:22) codifies the mitzvah of counting together with the halachos of the korban ha’omer, indicating that the count is connected to the omer offering. We begin at the low level of omer and count as we raise ourselves daily through the 48 devorim shehaTorah nikneis bohem to kabbolas haTorah.

The 48 methods are the ikkar of Torah. Without them, we remain with the se’orim, like animals. We gathered behakheil to learn the mitzvos pertaining to how we must deal with each other, because it is only through observing them and treating other people the way we want to be treated that we become bnei and bnosTorah.

If we don’t judge people properly, if we peddle gossip, if we are petty and jealous and vengeful, if we are dishonest or we are disrespectful of our parents and elders, then we can’t grow properly in Torah.

Just as those who aren’t punctilious in Shabbos observance cannot be considered shomrei Torah, those who are immoral, corrupt, depraved and shameless cannot be considered adherents to Torah.

We live in a world of dishonesty and depravity, where the unprincipled and obscene are heralded, praised and lauded. We need to be reminded constantly that their way is not ours. We aim to be holy and chaste, while the culture seeks lewdness and licentious pleasures.

We are told, “Kedoshim tihiyu. Be a holy and good people,” and we must live our lives by that credo. Why don’t we do all that is popular and attractive? Why isn’t proper conduct determined by the way prominent people of the surrounding culture act? Because we are commanded to be kedoshim. We live lives of holiness. We seek growth and advancement, not stagnation and decline. Our path leads to happiness and fulfillment, theirs to emptiness of substance.

Kedoshim was said behakheil because it refers to everyone - men, women and children - not just to the upper crust.

Every day we are tested anew, and every day we must prove that we really are different. Let the media mock us as insular when we cleave to a high moral rule, but let us not act in ways that allow them to mock us as dishonest and unpatriotic.

Proclaim for all that we are keepers of a sacred trust. Our way of life traces itself back to the midbar, where Moshe Rabbeinu repeated to us the words of Hashem, “Kedoshim tihiyu.”

Besides rebuilding the Ponovezher Yeshiva in Bnei Brak following the Second World War, the Ponovezher Rov also founded a children’s home for orphans who had survived the war and had nowhere to go.

He once arrived to join in the celebration of the bar mitzvah of the only child who survived the Kovno Ghetto. The simcha took place during the week of Parshas Shemini, which discusses the deaths of Nodov and Avihu, sons of Aharon Hakohein.

The Ponovezher Rov began speaking about the parsha, as he addressed the boy from Kovno. The pesukim discuss that Moshe Rabbeinu became angry at the two surviving sons, Elozor and Issomor. The posuk says, “Vayiktzof al Elozor ve’al Issomar bonov hanosarim leimor– And he became angry at Elozor and at Issomor, the remaining sons, saying.” Rashi explains the word leimor, saying, to mean that Moshe asked them to respond to what he had said.

What, asked the Rov, did Moshe want them to respond to?

The Rov cited the Chazal that Elozor and Issomor also should have been burned to death along with their brothers, but Hashem had mercy on Aharon and refrained from causing him the pain of losing his four sons.

The Rov remarked, “Moshe turned to the surviving brothers and said to them, ‘Why did Hashem keep you alive if not for you to be mekadeish Sheim Hashem? Answer me, therefore, where is your kiddush Hashem?”

He turned to the bar mitzvah boy and said, “From all the Jewish children in the Kovno Ghetto, you were the only one to survive. Do you know what Hashem says to you? ‘I kept you alive to be mekadeish Hashem.’ Hashem says, ‘Leimor, tell me, where is your kiddushHashem?’

“And He doesn’t only say that to you,” the Rov continued. “Every Jewish child is a survivor. Hashem kept you alive to be mekadeish Hashem. Leimor, He calls out to you, ‘Answer Me. Answer and be mekadeish Hashem.’”

Many years have passed since that speech, and many years have passed since the Holocaust, but those of us who are alive, those of us who lived through it and those who were born to those who did, are all survivors. We are all here for a higher purpose. We are all kedoshim.

We all need to be living holy lives of kiddush Hashem. Leimor, let us all proclaim it loud and clear for all to hear and see. We are kedoshim. Our lives are kadosh. We seek to increase kedusha.

We aspire to be mekadshei Hashem wherever we are and in whatever we do.

Rabbi Pinchos Lipschutz

The mitzvah of counting the Omer is found in this week’s parsha. The posuk (Vayikra 23:15) states, “Usefartem lochem mimochoras haShabbos… And You shall count seven complete weeks from the day the Korban Omer is brought until after the seventh Shabbos, you shall count fifty days.”

Apparently, the days of Sefirah are about counting. Why is it that in our time, many people count the Omer every night, but think that the days of Sefirah are about aveilus for the passing of the talmidim of Rabi Akiva?

The mourning aspects of the Sefirah period have so taken over the seven weeks between Pesach and Shavuos that we can sometimes forget that there is more to Sefirah than refraining from haircuts and listening to music. In fact, Sefirah represents a countdown to kabbolas haTorah, and, as such, is a time to prepare ourselves and make ourselves worthy of the Torah.

The period of Sefirah is blessed with awesome light that is not present the rest of the year (Maharal, Nesiv HaTorah 12). This ohr increases daily along with the levels of Torah, until it reaches a climax on Shavuos, when the Torah was given. In fact, as we count Sefirah,we say, “Hayom,” because yom, day, is an expression of light, and we make the brocha and thank Hashem for granting us the light of this specific day of the Omer, as every day, more light is revealed as we proceed along the path to Torah (Derech Mitzvosecha).

Concurrent with the light and increased levels of Torah found between Pesach and Atzeres is our obligation to raise ourselves from the level of se’orim,which comprises the Korban Omer, to the more refined chitim of the Shtei Halechem of Shavuos.

Chazal (Yoma 9b) teach that the second Bais Hamikdosh was destroyed because of sinas chinom. Simply explained, the people looked down upon each other out of baseless hatred. Perhaps we can say that until the period during which the talmidim of Rabi Akiva died because of a lack of respect for each other, there was hope that the Jews would be able to repent for the sins that caused the churbanBais Hamikdosh. However, when the terrible plague struck the Jewish people and the 24,000 talmidim died, it became obvious that the people were overcome with sinas chinom and were lacking in ahavas Yisroel and achdus.

They realized that there would be no quick solution to their golus under the Romans unless they would quickly repent for their sins. The fact that the mageifah took place during the days of Sefirah, when there is increased ohr and daily introspection and perfection, indicated that not only were the people not worthy of the Bais Hamikdosh, but they were also unworthy of Torah.

The same components that are necessary for kabbolas haTorah are necessary for geulah, so this special period of Sefirah was chosen as a time to improve ourselves and prepare not only for Torah, but also for geulah. By mourning the loss of the talmidim, we are reminded of the punishment for not loving each other and dealing with each other respectfully. We see what happens when there is sinas chinom and a lack of respect for each other.

We are reminded that “ve’ohavta lerei’acha kamocha” is not only a nice undertaking and a good minhag, but a mitzvah mide’Oraisa incumbent upon us to observe in order to be connected to Hashem and worthy of Torah and geulah.

During the Sefirah period, we work each day to perfect another of the 48 kinyanim of Torah and engage in raising ourselves from the nefesh habehami levels of seorim, animal food, to the nefesh haruchni at the 49th level of kedusha. These attributes prepare us for kabbolas haTorah, when we stood united, k’ish echod beleiv echod, at Har Sinai. They also prepare us for the unity that geulah necessitates, when Hashem echod ushemo echod will be recognized across the world.

It is important for us to recognize that at the time of the destruction of the Bais Hamikdosh, the Jewish people excelled in the study and observance of Torah, mitzvos and chesed (see Yoma, ibid.). It’s not as if they were locked in sin and indulging in depravity. The only area in which they were lacking was ahavas Yisroel. That alone was enough to cause the destruction of the Bais Hamikdosh and bring on golus and all that it entails.

In our day, we note the explosion of Torah and frum communities. There is so much that we can point to with great pride. Yeshivos and Bais Yaakovs are more plentiful and larger than ever. We have every conceivable type of chesed organization. There is unprecedented dikduk b’mitzvos. Yet the fact that we remain in golus indicates that we are lacking in ahavas Yisroel and achdus. If sinas chinom wasn’t prevalent among us, if there wouldn’t be machlokes and division, golus would have ended.

During these days of Sefirah, it is incumbent upon us to end the hatred, spite, cynicism and second-guessing of each other, of people who look different or see things differently than us. It is time we adopt the message of Sefirah and the passing of Rabi Akiva’s talmidim so that we can return again to where and what we were and what we are meant to be.

The number of days in the Sefirah period is cited as connected to the 48 methods necessary to acquire Torah. The Mishnah in PirkeiAvos teaches that in order to properly acquire Torah, we must excel in the 48 devorim through which Torah is acquired. Most of them involve matters that relate to the way we deal and interact with one another. One who has not perfected himself ethically and morally cannot properly excel in Torah. A person who is deficient in the way he deals with other people will also be lacking in Torah.

The Ramchal in MaamarHachochmah discusses the idea that the Bnei Yisroel in Mitzrayim sank to the 49th level of depravity. After redeeming them from servitude, Hakadosh Boruch Hu provided for them the 49-day period between Pesach and Shavuos so that the freed slaves could raise themselves from the abyss of decadence and alter their behavior in a steady progression until they would be worthy of receiving the Torah on Shavuos.

This ability is evident every year during this time period, the Ramchal says. The Ohr Hachaim adds to this concept and writes (Vayikra 23:15) that the counting of the days of the Omer is akin to the count that an impure person performs to calculate the time remaining until he regains his purity. During this period, we must engage in introspection, much the same as the unclean person would do during their period of counting.

These days involve more than a ritual counting and mourning. They demand a spiritual ascendancy to cleanse ourselves from the moral and spiritual imperfections that afflict all of us. During this period, we are to study and apply the 48 kinyanim of Torah in order to be worthy of accepting the Torah on Shavuos.

The mourning we engage in is directly tied to the introspection that this period obligates.

We mourn the loss of Rabi Akiva’s 24,000 talmidim, we emulate their accomplishments, and we seek to fill the void created by their absence. Rav Elchonon Wasserman taught (Kovetz Maamarim Ve’igros) that a person who is pretentious and egotistical cannot be successful in a leadership position. An effective leader can communicate with people because he relates to them, feels their pain, and he does not consider himself on a higher level than the people he serves.

In order to reach people, you have to really care about them and want to influence them. You have to address them with respect. Nobody likes being talked down to. Most people respond to positive reinforcement and tune out negativity.

If you rid your soul of sinas chinom, then you will behave with mentchlichkeit and treat people properly. If you are practiced in ahavas Yisroel, people will respect you and listen to you. You will be able to help them improve their shemiras hamitzvos, Torah learning, understanding of life, and acceptance of what Hashem gives them.

Rav Isser Zalman Meltzer, as rosh yeshiva of Yeshivas Eitz Chaim in Yerushalayim, would test the students in the school’s younger grades. He once asked a young boy a question pertaining to the understanding of the Gemara. The boy gave a wrong answer.

Rav Isser Zalman said to him, “I’m sure this is what you meant to say,” and provided the correct answer. He sought to prevent the boy’s embarrassment, from messing up so egregiously in front of the rosh yeshiva.

The student, however, was adamant. “No, that is not what I meant,” and proceeded to repeat the mistaken answer. Patiently, the rosh yeshiva tried again, “Yes, you’re right, because this is what you wanted to say,” and rephrased the correct answer. The boy wouldn’t hear of it. “The rosh yeshiva doesn’t understand what I am saying,” he complained. He again offered the incorrect answer.

As some of the boys began giggling to themselves, Rav Isser Zalman rose from his seat and excused himself. “I have to tend to something for a couple minutes and will quickly return,” he said.

Suspecting that something was afoot, the rebbi opened the door a crack and peered down the hall. There in front of him was the senior gadol hador with his eyes closed, talking to himself. He was repeating, “The obligation to respect everyone includes children,” over and over again.

After a couple moments Rav Isser Zalman returned to the classroom. He sat down, with a huge smile on his face and began to painstakingly explain the Gemara, until even that one boy understood it perfectly and was able to provide the correct answer to the question that was posed to him.

The greatest teacher is not the one who knows the most, and the greatest leader is not necessarily the one who does the greatest things. He is the one who motivates people to accomplish the greatest things. The greatest teacher is the one who understands his students and is able to reach them. The greatest teacher is the one who loves his students.

A good teacher gives a child the feeling that he has confidence in him and recognizes his potential for achieving greatness. The quality rebbi or morah lets the student know that they share their dreams, hopes and goals for the future, and will do everything they can to help the child attain them.

You can convince people to perform positive acts by appealing to their hopes or by playing to their fears. The one who excels makes sure to speak to people’s confidence and not to their doubts, with facts and not with fantasy. People respond much better and are more likely to rise to the challenge when they are treated with dignity.

For leaders and teachers, as well as parents and friends, communication is a lot more than words. What matters is not necessarily what we say, but how we say it. We can inspire and motivate when we communicate with love and care. By taking seriously the commandment of “ve’ohavta lerei’acha kamocha,” our children, students, friends and acquaintances will understand that they are admired and loved by people who have confidence in their abilities.

Others might be superior to us in intelligence, experience and diplomatic skills, but if we pay attention and exercise care when speaking to people, we can accomplish so much more. We must have passion in what we do. And we have to let it show. We can all help other people and remind them of their inherent greatness. We have to be optimistic about life and about our own abilities, and we have to convey that to others.

Everyone has the ability to affect the world. If we would maximize our G-d-given abilities to study Torah as well as we can; if we would utilize the strength that Hashem gave us to build instead of destroy, to be optimistic instead of pessimistic; if we would use the brachos that Hashem blessed us with to benefit others, we could change the world. We really can do it.

Sefirah is a time for us to dedicate ourselves to perfecting those abilities so that we can grow in the lilmod as well as the lelameid of Torah.

On Lag Ba’omer, hundreds of thousands travel to the kever of Rabi Shimon Bar Yochai in Meron to daven. It is the largest annual gathering of Jews. Arriving at the site is usually accompanied by great difficulty. Yet, Jews of all types happily make the pilgrimage to the kever of Rabi Shimon to show that they appreciate his message. With achdus, brotherhood and love, people gather around the kever and daven. They sing songs of praise and dance with all their strength.

They show that they have taken to heart the obligations of Sefirah and aveilus, and are preparing themselves for Torah and geulah, k’ish echod b’lev echod. They stand together firing up their neshamos as they reach for light and holiness.

Many of those who don’t make the trek, build a neighborhood fire, which they dance around as they sing songs dedicated to Rabi Shimon Bar Yochai and Rabi Akiva. The festivities inject a spiritual energy into the day.

Lag Ba’omer brings a welcome interruption to the Sefirah mourning. We take haircuts, shave, trim our beards, and allow music to cheer our souls once again.

Why is it that the customs of mourning in commemoration of the passing of the talmidim of Rabi Akiva have become the focal point of the Sefirah period? Why is it that Lag Ba’omer has become so widely celebrated, though it is not a Yom Tov?

Rabi Akiva was the greatest of his generation. It is said that he was the shoresh of TorahShebaal Peh. The line of transmission of the Torah from HarSinai to future generations ran through him and his students. When his students died, the Jewish world mourned. They worried about how the mesorah that ran through Rabi Akiva would continue. They worried about who would teach Torah to future generations. A grieving people on the run from Roman persecution, they cried and wondered if they could ever be consoled for the loss of so many great men crucial to the spiritual survival of the nation.

There must have been an overwhelming urge to say, “It’s all over.” The less faithful and more pessimistic probably weren’t too far from giving up. Rabi Akiva recharged the people and helped them recover from the devastating loss and proceeded to transmit the Torah to a new group of five students.

On this day, which marked a cessation of the deaths of Rabi Akiva’s talmidim, we commemorate the renewal. We celebrate the determination. We foresee the future bright with hopefulness and optimism. On this day, the talmidim stopped dying and Rabi Akiva’s talmid, Rabi Shimon Bar Yochai, revealed the secrets of TorasHasod, which infused all future generations with added dimensions of kedusha and understanding.

As the centuries pass, and as the Romans of every period seek our destruction and annihilation, we look to Rabi Akiva and Rabi Shimon Bar Yochai for inspiration. We note how they faced down the enemy and persevered, ensuring that our nation and Torah are alive and flourishing to this day. In the wake of a tragedy that would have felled lesser people, Rabi Akiva strengthened himself and set about ensuring that the chain would remain unbroken.

As the golus continues, we must not weaken in our devotion to Torah. Noting how many giants our people have lost, we hear voices stating that we can never recoup the losses. We are doomed to mediocrity, they proclaim.

Lag Ba’omer rejects that hopelessness. It declares that we are never to give up hope or allow the chain of greatness to break. The fires of Lag Ba’omer burn vibrantly, announcing that the future will be bright, the mesorah will continue, and our people will be great.

The longer our exile is prolonged, the more we turn to days like Lag Ba’omer for inspiration and encouragement, and the more popular their observance becomes.

But it is not enough to just light a fire. It is not enough to sing and dance. We have to be prepared to work as hard as Rabi Akiva did. We have to be prepared for the deprivation suffered by Rabi Shimon Bar Yochai and his son, Rabi Elazar. We have to be ameilim baTorah if we want to merit the blessings of rebirth and redemption. We have to perfect ourselves and achieve the 48 devorim that Torah accrual requires. We have to really love and care about each other. We have to stop being spiteful and hateful. We have to treat everyone the way we want to be treated.

We each have the ability to light up the world with Torah and maasim tovim, with intelligence and splendor. Let us pray that the fires spark within our souls a flame of holiness, and dedication to proper middos, as well as the mesorah and Torah. That way, we will merit the realization of the prophecies discussed in the works of Rabi Shimon Bar Yochai with the arrival of Moshiach tzidkeinu, bimeheirah beyomeinu. Amein.

Rabbi Pinchos Lipschutz

Who can remember a week such as the one that just passed? Who can ponder the loss of so many good people and not recognize that they cannot go on living their lives as they have been?

On Wednesday, Moshe Reich was in Tzefas preparing for Lag Ba’omer, joyfully hosting many people in his home on a centuries-old narrow cobblestone street, when his soul returned to its Maker. A prominent Klausenberger chosid and close friend of Arye Deri, he was well known for his engaging personality, askanus, and acts of tzedakah v’chesed. Shock spread throughout Israel and around the world.

On Thursday, Mendy Klein was in Cleveland, outside of the Hebrew Academy, a major focus of his life and philanthropy. He collapsed and was gone, a giant cut down in his prime. The shock was overwhelming as word spread across the Torah world. The reaction was similar everywhere: “Mendy Klein? What? I can’t believe it.” The energetic, life-giving supporter of Torah, yeshivos, schools, needy people, victims of abuse, and so much else had died. The man who ran away from attention and honor during his lifetime was praised and mourned following his tragic petirah.

Rav Shaul Shatzkes, who suffered a stroke a few months ago, never recovered and passed away on Thursday. He was a tremendous talmid chochom, baal kishron and marbitzTorah. He was a sheim dovor in Lakewood, where he lived and dedicated his life to Torah.

Rav Nochum Eisenstein, who served as a rov in Detroit and Lakewood, and had also been rosh kollel in the Boston Kollel, succumbed to an illness he had suffered from for years. A unique marbitz Torah, mechaber seforim and posek, he taught, led and inspired many people. Before his illness, he authored a weekly Torah column in the Yated. A relatively young person, he was also niftar on Thursday.

Rabbi Bernard Weinberger was a phenomenal darshan, talmid chochom, and author of multiple seforim. Blessed with an engaging personality, he was also an intellectual and a leader in the field of rabbonus, serving as the longtime rov of Young Israel of Williamsburg. In his eighties, he passed away last week as well.

Accomplished, successful, and well-known leaders, each one in their own way, they paved a Torah way through the turmoil of golus, leaving behind legacies of greatness for future generations. Their passing sends us a message regarding the fragility of life and a warning to maximize the time we have.

Recognizing the value of life helps us overcome temptation, negate frivolity, and realize the important things in life. It reminds us to love our family and friends and let them know it. A person who knows the meter is running seeks to do good and spread goodness, making the world a better place. There is no time for pettiness; strife, hate and division have no place in the heart and mind of a person who knows that tomorrow he may be described in the past tense, r”l.

We currently find ourselves in the Sefirah period, when we seek to improve ourselves as we ascend daily towards the goal of receiving the Creator’s Torah. Each day, we seek another form of improvement, another way to improve our character and become a better person.

An older man had a story to tell: “I came to Eretz Yisroel during the Second World War and brought several gold bars with me. I was looking for a place to invest my gold.

“One day, I found myself on a street, known today as Rechov Chazon Ish, at the corner of Rechov Harav Dessler, and I saw the Chazon Ish taking a walk there. Since I had heard that he gave brachos and advice to people, I approached him and asked him how to invest my gold.

“He lifted his cane and pointed towards an empty hill. He said to me, ‘Reb Yaakov Halpern is going to be selling lots there. Take your gold and use it all to buy as many lots as you can afford.’

“I didn’t really know much about him and didn’t know that he was a gadol hador. I was angry at his suggestion. When he said that to me, I thought to myself, ‘What? He’s telling me to throw my gold into the sea? Into an empty desert hill?

“Out of respect, I was quiet. I said, ‘Thank you,’ and left.

“Halperin sold those lots for pennies. I took my gold and made various investments and never saw much of a return. If only I had listened to that old man, I would have become a multi-millionaire.

“Oy, if only I had grabbed those lots.”

The man told his story to Rav Nosson Einfeld, of Kollel Chazon Ish, who repeated the tale of woe to the well-known maggid, Rav Reuvein Karelenstein.

Shortly thereafter, the maggid addressed a crowd, and this is what he said:

The Rambam writes in Hilchos Teshuvah (3:4), “Even though the obligation to blow a shofar on Rosh Hashanah is given in the Torah with no reason, there is a hint, namely the posuk which states, ‘Awake you who sleep from your slumber, and those who doze off from your sleep, search your ways, return with teshuvah and remember your Creator.’ This refers to people who forget the truth and get caught up with the frivolities of the time, stumbling through their lives with silliness and emptiness, which are of no help and bring no salvation.”

The man’s story portrays the words of the Rambam. All around us here in this world are properties being sold for pennies, and each one can earn us worlds of payoffs. With a simple nice word, we can earn “shaiolamos,” 310 worlds. We can grab worlds at such low prices. Every mitzvah, every word of Torah, every charitable act, yields fortunes.

That is the call of the shofar. As the Rambam says, “People forget the truth and get caught up with the frivolities of the time.”

At a time like this, when we lost people who didn’t get sidetracked but made eternal investments in this world, we need to follow their example. Think of how many people they influenced, how many they helped, and how they changed this world and made it a much better place. And now think about yourself and what you are doing.

Their deaths should wake us from our slumber and shake us from our fantasies of immortality.

In this week’s parsha, the Torah commands (Vayikra 25:8-9), “Vesofarta lecha sheva shabbsos shonim… Teisha v’arbo’im shana… veha’avarta shofar teruah… And you shall count for yourself seven shmittos, which are forty-nine years, and the fiftieth year shall be Yovel and you shall blow the shofar in the seventh month.”

The Shela explains the connection of various pesukim in the previous and current parshiyos. He says that the seven-year cycle of Shmittah is akin to the seven days of creation. Then comes the fiftieth year and the shofar is blown to awaken and remind a person that his existence in this world is temporary.

He cites the posuk of“Ki bayom hazeh yechaper” (Vayikra 16:30) and explains that in years past, the custom was that when there was a death in the community, the shofar was blown, as it is on Yom Kippur. Just as Yom Kippur is a day of forgiveness, so does death cause forgiveness for those who repent. “Veshavtem ish el achuzaso,” and the spirit shall return to Hashem.

He concludes that a person must therefore always view himself as a temporary resident of this world, as the posuk (ibid. 25:23) states, “Ki geirim vesoshavim atem imodi.” We should live here as transitory residents so that we shall reside with Hashem in perpetuity. And this is the reason land is not sold in perpetuity, as the posuk says, “Veha’aretz lo simocher l’tzmisus” (ibid.).

“We shall not be like the puerile people who are enthralled with their wealth, property and homes. Rather, we should use what Hashem has given us for ruchniyus, and then “viyishavtem al ha’aretz lavetach.” As the Torah discusses in Parshas Bechukosai, “Im bechukosai teileichu, if you follow the commands of Hashem, you will be richly rewarded.”

The shock that followed the passing of Mendy Klein z”l should remain with us and not wear off. We should remember our thoughts when we heard the shocking news and perpetuate them through understanding the words of the Shela. Doing so will be a zechus for him and bring us brachos and nitzchiyus. For a giant in charity as he was, comes along infrequently. It takes not only great wealth, but also the understanding that we are but geirim here, with the task of doing what we can to enhance the lives of others and supporting causes of Torah. Mr. Klein excelled in that, and he did it all quietly and behind the scenes. Nobody knew but him, the recipient and Hashem. Now he is in the “olam shekulo tov,” with Hashem, lonetzach.

Rav Yosef Dov Soloveitchik, the Beis Haleivi was married to a woman who hailed from a family of Slonimer chasssidim. Once, when he was living in the home of his in-laws as was common in the time, the rebbe, Rav Moshe of Kobrin came into the room in which Rav Yoseph Dov learned. He was studying the later chapters of Shulchan Aruch Orach Chaim.

The rebbe asked the young Litvishe gaon, “And what is with the first siman of Shulchan Aruch Orach Chaim, do you observe that?” The man who would grow up to be the world-famed Beis Haleivi and forebear of the famed Brisker family, responded that he worked on that halacha, namely of “Shivisi Hashem lenegdi somid,” fifteen times a day.

This week I visited the Sadigerrer Rebbe together with Rav Shalom Mordechai Rubashkin, he turned to us and said every generation has its nisyonos which weren’t prevalent in previous generations. In our day, he said, there is a plague in emunah and bitachon, frum people don’t know the basics of belief. “This is what leads to the terrible problem of “noshrim,” people going off the derech. We cannot ignore what is going on.

“It is your obligation to appeal to people and educate them what emunah means, what bitachon means, what the mitzvos are all about and why we observe them,” he told us.

At a time like this when people seek zechuyos and sources of merit, let us resolve to follow in the ways of the niftorim. We should also find time to study and review Shulchan Aruch Orach Chaim and seforim such as Chovos Halevavos and the many others which give meaning and value to our lives so that we can become better Jews and better people.

Emunah and bitachon makes our lives more wholesome and increases our happiness, self-worth, and ability to get with others, but more importantly, it brings us closer to Hashem and the geulah we all await.

Remembering Rav Aharon Leib zt”l

Parenting Prime

Keep Achdus Alive

Charge Your Spirit

Words to Touch and Inspire

Jewish History

Do Something About It

Keep Your Hands Off Halacha

Sparks of Holiness

Be My Friend

Warmed on the Inside

Time to Build

Potential, Unity and Renewal

How Much is a Matzoh Worth?

Food of Faith and Freedom

A Moment of Silence

The Majesty of Man is in His Speech

Lives of Kedoshim

Reach for the Light

והחי יתן אל לבו