Bringing the Children Along

Parshat Nitzavim Vayelekh 

by Rabbi Avi Billet 

 On the rare occasion that I need to make a late-night run to Walmart for some odd or end that we need, while I am (hopefully) obviously going out on this errand by myself, I marvel at how there are sometimes families, with very small children, at the store at the same time. And we’re not talking about the single mom who has no other choice but to bring her children – these are families with two parents present along with their little children. 

 It's not for me to judge, and I certainly don’t say anything. But I imagine that were I to ask, the answer I’d get from the parents is “We had to do this errand together. Do you expect us to leave our children home by themselves? What do you think we are – irresponsible?” I don’t want to get into an argument, so if my guess of an answer were to turn out to be true, it is certainly better that they take their children than leave them home by themselves. I understand that it’s very hard to get a last-minute babysitter. (Nevermind that you could have done what I did – but I guess some items that get picked off the shelf need a discussion in the store…😇) 

We have a unique commandment in the Torah that only applies one time every 7 years, and that is the Mitzvah of Hakhel, the gathering of the entire Jewish nation in Jerusalem on the holiday of Sukkos attached to the Shmittah year. 

Quick aside: Rashi and Rabbenu Bachaye say it was in the Sukkot immediately AFTER the Shmittah year, at the beginning of the 1st year of the new cycle. Targum Yonatan and R Yosef Bkhor Shor say it that it is after 7 years from the last Hakhel, in the actual Shmittah year – at a time when people don’t need to tend to their fields and gardens, they can all afford to go to Jerusalem. Ramban in Parshas Reeh (chapter 15) makes it quite clear that we “pasken” like the first approach that says Hakhel would take place on the Sukkos immediately after the Shmittah year ended. 

The mitzvah in question is for “the nation to gather, men, women and children.” (31:12) To what might seem an obvious question – the men and women will each get their own benefits from the national gathering, but what will the children get out of it? – Rashi notes (based on the Gemara in Chagigah 3) that the purpose of bringing the children was for their parents to get the reward/merit (שכר) for bringing them. 

 That doesn’t seem to benefit the children. And, to be honest, if the parents are all going because they are required to go, then just like the people I see in Walmart, do we expect they’d leave their children home alone while they make the trek to Jerusalem? Of course they’re going to take their children along. They don’t have a choice! So why is this a Mitzvah? In Yalkut Ha’Urim, the author suggests the obvious answer, the famous teaching of Rabbi Chananya ben Akashiya. “God wanted to give merits to the Jewish people, and so He gave them many mitzvos…” If the adults have to bring their children anyway, they may as well get the merit of fulfilling a mitzvah while doing so. Fair enough. 

This leaves us with the question of what the children would get out of coming to Hakhel, especially if they are too young to understand what is going on, and too young to appreciate the role of the king, of the Torah being read, of the grandeur of all of the nation being there. The Torah explains their role, in 31:13, as “listening and learning to revere the Almighty.” 

The Sfas Emes explains, demonstrating a clear understanding of the realities of children, that there is an ideal (they will listen and learn to revere God) and then there is reality, that they’ll be running around, playing games, not paying attention, missing the point entirely. And so, looking at Rashi’s comment, he says it is more important for the parents to be present and distracted by their children – because at least the children are in attendance and in this incredibly inspiring atmosphere, the memory of which (simply being there) they may carry more than what they might have gleaned from listening to the Torah being read or any speeches, most or all of which they likely would not remember. 

The Sfas Emes concludes the thought suggesting that in general, adults should be willing to sacrifice their own fulfillment and growth in order to teach their children or be sure to it that the message comes across to the next generation. 

In a different comment on this section of the Torah, Sfas Emes emphasized the holiness of the atmosphere which can have an indelible imprint on the Neshama (soul), an impact which is invaluable, something that we can never actually put a price on, as it may be carried to realms we could never foresee. 

Rabbi Yehoshua was a great example of this – not specifically from Hakhel, but all the time – as his mother would bring his cradle to the Beis Medrash in order that he would be exposed to the sound of Torah study from a very young age (Yerushalmi Yevamos ch 1, 8b). Undoubtedly that contributed to his becoming the man he became. 

 I recall once hearing a story about two great rabbis who came to an elementary level yeshiva to give a talk and a faher (oral quiz) to the students. The event included lunch, and after the meal, their regular Rebbe apologized to these great rabbis that as part of their approach to Chinukh in the yeshiva, the boys sang the Birkat Hamazon (“Bentching”) together. These great rabbis did not hesitate – not only did they not accept the apology, but they sang the Bentching along with the boys. Is this an example of their sacrificing their own “kavvanah,” perhaps their own scrupulousness and degree of concentration, to sing a memorable melody of the Birkat HaMazon along with children? Absolutely. But do you know what? Not only was it a beautiful message to the children, that these great rabbis “bentched” with them, but it also gave great strength to the children’s Rebbe to see value and merit in what he was doing regularly, sacrificing his own “bentching”, so the children would learn it, remember it, and be trained to make Birkat Hamazon part of their own mealtime routine. 

We must always remember that the presence of children in any Jewish environment, whether shul or a gathering, is a blessing. If sometimes their presence seems disturbing, it is much more important that they feel comfortable in places like shul, than that they feel unwelcome or not desired. 

 In Hakhel, it was run-of-the-mill. The kids were there, but their attention may have easily been focused elsewhere. 

 The parents got the most out of the experience as they could, but they also saw that their children had a memorable shared experience with family, seeing themselves as part of the Bnei Yisrael, in an inspiring setting they could recall in their long-term memory as a defining moment in their development as members of the Nation of Israel.

The Blessing WITH You

 Parshat Ki Tavo

by Rabbi Avi Billet

Chapter 28 begins with 14 verses of positivity and blessing leading into the long “Rebuke” which is known as the Tokhacha. In those 14 verses, we find the following message. יְצַ֨ו ה' אִתְּךָ֙ אֶת־הַבְּרָכָ֔ה בַּאֲסָמֶ֕יךָ וּבְכֹ֖ל מִשְׁלַ֣ח יָדֶ֑ךָ וּבֵ֣רַכְךָ֔ בָּאָ֕רֶץ אֲשֶׁר־ה' אֱ-לֹקֶיךָ נֹתֵ֥ן לָֽךְ: 

 Artscroll’s translation is “Hashem will command the blessing for you in your storehouses and your every undertaking; and He will bless you in the land that Hashem, your God, gives you.” 

 Another translation, from Chabad.org’s online full-Tanakh-with-translation is: “The Lord will order the blessing to be with you in your granaries, and in every one of your endeavors, and He will bless you in the land which the Lord, your God, is giving you.” 

A more accurate, direct translation would read, “God will command/instruct with you blessing in your אסםs (barn, granary, storehouse?) and in all of your hand’s endeavors. And He will bless you in the land that ה' אֱ-לֹקֶיךָ gives/is giving you.” 

Loose translations tend to aim to give a message, though they are always a commentary because they have to make a choice at how to explain the language of the text. An accurate translation sometimes purposely leaves things vague because the text is vague! 

 One word which is lost in this mix of translations is אתך, and the attempt at translating that word is highlighted in bold in each version of the verse above. Most would certainly argue that אתך means “with you,” though what that phrase means depends on its context. 

A number of interpretations suggest that it references a partnership with the Almighty. 

 Peninei Torah: Blessing comes upon something that ‘exists.’ [God doesn’t make miracles from nothing for anyone.] Just as a pasuk promises (Devarim 15:18) that God will bless you in all that you do, the key is that “you” have to be “doing something.” If a person is sitting with clasped hands waiting for God’s blessing to come without making any kind of effort (Hishtadlus) the blessing can not come upon a person. “God will instruct for the blessing to happen אתך, only with your participation in making things happen.” 

Based on a verse in Iyov 22:28, the Rabbis taught that if a righteous person declares something, God will make it happen. Two examples are Yehoshua calling on the sun to stay put until the battle in Givon was over, and Eliyahu declaring the flour will never run out. And thus Kli Yakar said that if you are a righteous person instructing for Bracha to happen, God will command for it to happen and agree with you for the blessing to come true. 

  HaKtav V’Hakabbalah: It almost seems as if the blessing “exists” and God commanded for it to be “with you.” However, that would make more sense if the verse actually read as יצו עליך. Therefore he is of the opinion that the “command” is one that goes back generations to when the blessing was first attached to our forefathers. God is essentially including the blessing with you, causing something made long ago to cling to you as well. It’s not a new blessing, it is one that drafts you into it with time. 

 Rav Hirsch also pins the blessing on a person who is taking initiative. 

 When we consider what it means to have the blessings of God upon us, we would do well to realize that there is a partnership in place. Yes, we want God to provide for us and to give to us and to protect us. But He wants something in return. He doesn’t want us to be content with freebies and handouts and being given everything on a silver platter. He wants our effort, our struggles, our participation in following through with the ideal life He has laid out for us in the land, which requires our buy-in as well. 

This is true of every aspect of Jewish living. 

 Whether it’s growth in Torah – we don’t grow from just sitting back and listening to a lecture or shiur. We have to be “all in” in our effort to study, to learn, to understand a text or a topic. 

When it’s spiritual growth – we don’t grow from simply listening to others or sitting in the back (so to speak) with an open siddur. We need to apply ourselves to the task of getting to know ourselves, what our needs are, and how much we are willing to invest our energy and resources in improving our spiritual connection to God. 

 The same can be said about every effort one pursues or wants to pursue. Noone becomes a good athlete from sitting on the sidelines and watching everyone else play. One needs to practice and improve and challenge oneself. 

The message from the Torah and the word אתך is that God WANTS THIS PARTNERSHIP. If we can only want it as well and put in the effort that will aid in our own growth, we will be blessed with God, with a partnership with the Divine that is the envy of the world, one that makes us closest to Him in this world.

Returning Lost Objects, Finding Our True Selves

Parshat Ki Tetze 

 by Rabbi Avi Billet

When counting per parsha, Ki Tetze has the largest number of Mitzvos in the book of Devarim, and in all of the Torah! Some of them have been seen before in the most Mitzvah-prolific parshas such as Mishpatim and Kedoshim, and some have been counted then as Mitzvos, and some are only counted here as Mitzvos by the Sefer HaChinukh. Perhaps the easiest reason for any repetition, in general, is that Moshe is speaking to the next generation, and is reminding them of some of the more important things he has taught over the years while also focusing on the instructions that will fare them best when they enter the Land of Canaan and begin building a new society there outside the realm of the partially supernatural living they’ve experienced in the wilderness (Manna, special water sources, pillars of cloud and fire, etc.) 

 One mitzvah which appears in two places is regarding the returning of a lost (and therefore found) object. In Devarim 22:1 the verse says that “You shall not see the lost ox or sheep of your brother wandering and let it be. [Rather] you should return them to your brother.” The word brother here means “your brother in observance” or “your brother in Mitzvos.” 

In Mishpatim (Shemos 23:4) the verse says “When you bump into the ox or the donkey of your enemy [and realize it is] lost, return it to him.” 

While the verse speaks of a lost animal, Sefer HaChinukh titles the Mitzvah “To return a lost object to an Israelite” and goes into detail about how the mitzvah includes any lost items, and that the purpose of the mitzvah is to promote neighborliness and to encourage people to seek out the owners of things that have been lost to set things aright. The specific laws are discussed in Bava Kama and Bava Metzia and concern where the items were lost (such as a particular market or a particular building, rather than a very busy thoroughfare), if they can be easily identified (losing a single dollar bill wouldn’t count, while losing a stack of bills in which you know the exact amount could be more easily verifiable, or losing a more unique object, especially if it has identification markers on it), and if the owner has hope of ever getting it back based on all the circumstances (if found in the sea, for example, we can assume the owner gave up hope, even if it has a name on it). 

The Internet has proven a fascinating resource for helping men who’ve misplaced their Tallis and Tefillin (such as on a train or in an airport) be reunited with them, since the Hebrew name, often enough with a last name, is usually on the bag! 

The question is asked, however, why does Mishpatim refer to the person who lost the animal as “Your enemy” while in our parsha the person is “your brother”? 

Rabbenu Bachaye essentially argues that the Torah is presenting on a spectrum. It could be that when finding an object the finder may realize that the item belongs to someone s/he does not like and may be inclined to think “Forget about it. Why should I go out of my way for that person?” Or it is unclear to whom it belongs, and the finder may feel “Why should I go out of my way for a stranger? This person is wasting my time!” As we know, that kind of attitude already puts the one who lost the item in a negative light in the mind of the finder. Therefore the Torah is teaching that returning an object gives the finder a different perspective, especially when the owner receives the property back and is genuinely grateful. The message is for the finder to remove those negative feelings, so by the time the returning of the object or animal takes place, the owner is already viewed as a friend. 

 Meshekh Chokhmah presents a different perspective. The Talmud (Pesachim 113) asks a simple question: Is one even permitted to hate? Doesn’t the Torah say “You shall not hate your brother in your heart!” (Vayikra 19:17) He answers that a person could come to hate one’s Jewish brother having witnessed the person sin, prior to the event of the Golden Calf, because at that point Bnei Yisrael were referred to as a “Kingdom of Priests and a Holy Nation.” Someone who sinned was considered to be one who was tainting that special mission, and could therefore be considered an enemy. 

 However, now in Devarim, after all of Israel participated in sin, even minimally, one does not have the allowance to simply hate someone for sinning. Instead, a person’s responsibility when seeing another person sin, instead of judging the other, is to examine one’s own deeds. 

 Am I perfect? Am I careful about every mitzvah? Am I flawless in the way I go about doing the things I do? 

Since the answer to these questions is typically “No” (unless the person IS a perfect tzaddik or tzadekes, which is rare), we are forbidden to hate the other person. Instead we should focus on the things we don’t like about ourselves and aim to improve upon them. 

This is where Teshuvah can fit in as it reminds us that we are imperfect (which is ok, since we are human), and that instead of looking outward at others, we ought to look inwards. 

 One simple way to improve is to seek out to help others. 

See something on the floor? Pick it up! 

Does it belong in the trash can? Throw it out! 

Does it belong to someone or is it unique enough that it could be identifiable by its owner? Try to return it! 

Going to the store and have a neighbor who doesn’t drive or who is immobile? Offer to shop for them! Or offer to take them to the store. It may take a few extra minutes, but a Chesed is worth all the time we have. 

See someone struggling with their purchases, loading their car? Offer to help or just help with a smile! 

See someone distraught over losing something? Help! Retrace steps. Look everywhere possible. 

Being there for others is one of the most human-training activities we can engage with. When we get a thank you and a compliment it feels great. But even if we don’t, knowing we did our part to help also feels good, and helps us see that people aren’t necessarily bad. Sometimes they are just misunderstood. And sometimes a little careless. And sometimes a little forgetful or eccentric. Which means they have plenty of good qualities… the onus is on us to see the good qualities and chalk up the qualities we don’t like to their being uniquely human in their own way. 

 Like everything, how we view others and their lost objects says a lot about our outlook on the world. If we can find the positive, we will be positive. If we live with a positive outlook on life, we will find the positivity in others. 

 Hopefully we aren’t too hard on ourselves in the process, as we recognize our own flaws as a work-in-progress, while aiming to improve through the life long task of Teshuvah and being more wholesome and good in God’s eyes. And by extension, in the eyes of Man.

The Holiness of Avoiding Milk/Meat Combinations

 Parshat Re'eh

by Rabbi Avi Billet

One theme of Parshas Re’eh focuses on the rules of what an Israelite may and may not eat. We see this first in chapter 12 when we are told about when we may come to eat from certain vows and offerings in “the place God will have chosen” (the place of the Temple in Jerusalem), such as during holidays or really throughout the year. The middle of the chapter speaks of eating meat as part of offering, the rules related to the (non)consumption of blood (12:16, 23-27), and how to eat meat outside of the context of offerings (12:20-22). 

Observing these rules, following a theme of Devarim, is למען ייטב לך (so it will be good for you) (12:28). A similar sentiment is conveyed at the beginning of chapter 14, that you are a holy nation, and you are God’s treasured people (14:2) – and this is the lead-in to the rules of Kosher, as in “which animals you may consume and which animals you may not consume.” Some animals are defined by certain characteristics (split hooves and ruminant is a kosher quadruped, fish need fins and scales), while there is a list of the non-kosher birds. Unfortunately the identity of the birds listed is debated, thus we only eat birds that have a tradition of being kosher. 

Towards the end of the rules of kosher animals, there is a rule that upon scrutiny, says less than we commit ourselves to: “Thou shall not cook a kid (baby goat) in its mother’s milk.” (14:21) This is the 3rd iteration of these words, as it also appears in Shmos 23:19 and 34:26 - where in both cases it is preceded by a law referencing how to prepare the Korban Pesach, and the specific verses enumerated both read: רֵאשִׁ֗ית בִּכּוּרֵי֙ אַדְמָ֣תְךָ֔ תָּבִ֕יא בֵּ֖ית יְקֹוָ֣ק אֱ-לֹהֶ֑יךָ לֹא־תְבַשֵּׁ֥ל גְּדִ֖י בַּחֲלֵ֥ב אִמּֽוֹ. I once heard it argued that because the previous verse references Pesach, and the first part of this verse references Bikkurim (first fruits), which is largely associated with Shavuos, that the idea of not cooking the kid in its mother’s milk relates to Sukkos, which always follows the dry summer season in Israel, when water reserves may be closer to being used up. The idea of reminding people in the context of Sukkos not to cook a kid in its mother’s milk is a way of saying not only that such a notion bespeaks of a terrible kind of cruelty, but that one should have faith that God will provide all the water you need, so there will be no need to resort to cooking the meat in the milk. 

Anyway, while the verse clearly says not to cook the kid in its mother’s milk, it does not say “if someone else (such as a non-Jew) cooks it, you may not eat it.” There is no mention of a prohibition against eating a combination of meat and milk! [See joke in the comments or at this link - sharing the link only for the joke]

Yet, every kosher-food consumer knows that we do not mix dairy and meat. And this is the source for that. How so? The Mishnah in Chullin (8:4) articulates the position that the repetition of the phrase is the source for the idea that not only is cooking forbidden, but benefiting from it, including eating from it, is also forbidden. (See Sifsei Chachamim on our Parsha, and his referencing Rashi in Mishpatim. See also Ramban on this verse 14:21) Baal HaTurim equates the gematria (numerical value of letters) of לא תבשל (“thou shall not cook”) – 763 – with the value of איסור אכילה ובישול והנאה (“the prohibition of eating, cooking, and benefiting”) – 764 (in gematria you can be off by one and it is considered equivalent) suggesting an allusion to the triple-prohibition in the words prohibiting the cooking of a meat/milk combination. 

 Interestingly, the Talmud makes it clear that this prohibition, according to the Torah, only applies to domestic farm animals (goats, sheep, cows), but not to wild animals (such as deer, gazelles) or birds. Rabbi Akiva extends it to the kosher quadrupeds who produce milk for their offspring (mammals) but not to birds, who do not produce milk. Thus the non-mixing of dairy with chicken or turkey is a later-than-the-Torah invention, primarily to avoid confusion in the ‘meat’ of creatures who are slaughtered. (And it is irrelevant in fish, who do not produce milk and are not slaughtered for consumption.) Which is why one of my kids has been campaigning to “Make Chicken Pareve Again.” For some reason, this has not caught on yet. 

The commentaries on the verse in our parsha touch upon much of this with added insights, particularly because the context here has nothing to do with the holidays and is a simple nod to the general notion of what it means to practice the laws of kosher eating: כִּ֣י עַ֤ם קָדוֹשׁ֙ אַתָּ֔ה לַיקֹוָ֖ק אֱ-לֹהֶ֑יךָ לֹֽא־תְבַשֵּׁ֥ל גְּדִ֖י בַּחֲלֵ֥ב אִמּֽוֹ, “for you are a holy nation unto God, don’t cook the kid in its mother’s milk.” 

Following the passage in Chullin 114a that compares the verse regarding not eating treifah animals, which is included with the verse ואנשי קדש תהיון לי (you shall be holy people unto Me), and the verse here regarding cooking the meat in the milk, which is included alongside כי עם קדוש אתה (“for you are a holy nation”), and concludes that both products are therefore forbidden for consumption (even though, as noted, we are not explicitly told regarding milk/meat that “you are forbidden to eat it), Torah Temimah notes how this is a much easier passage to learn the prohibition on eating a milk/meat combination than the 3 mentions of not cooking them together. 

But HaKtav V’Hakabbalah takes this comparison of the charges to "Bnei Yisrael to-be-holy" to another level.

Asking why in the context of Nevelah (a carcass that died in any manner other than a proper slaughter) the word used is Kadosh, and in the context of Tereifah (an animal that contained an internal wound in the heart or lungs) the word Kodesh is used, Rabbi Mecklenburg notes that the concept of Kedusha is emphasized in Parshas Kedoshim as being selective in how much one enjoys certain permissible life pleasures, such as: engaging in marital relations at the right times and intervals, minimizing one’s wine consumption, distancing oneself from becoming tameh to the dead, guarding one’s mouth and tongue from overeating and over-engaging in idle conversations, going above and beyond when it comes to one’s personal honesty when engaging in commerce with others… This is all considered the lower level (perhaps baseline) of what it means to live a life of Kedusha. 

 Taking things a level up, we have a person who elevates one’s personal holiness through disengaging from ALL physical pleasures. Meaning, even when engaging in the activities modified above, one is not ever participating in the physical activity for the sake of pleasure, but from a place that is intellectual and spiritual, focused solely on how to use that activity as a vehicle for serving the Almighty. 

 The lower level of Kedusha described here is measured in quantity. The higher level of Kedusha described here is measured qualitatively based on how the person disengages the spirit from any partnership with the physical. A person who exemplifies this quality is referred to as a Kadosh. As such, the phrase אנשי קדש uses the word Anshei, which is presumed to be a relatively small collection of individuals (rather than the words implying a group of a national level – such as עם or גוי) because the group that achieves that level of kedusha is presumably smaller. The phrase Anshei Kodesh is attached to the prohibition of the Tereifah because that particular prohibition includes a warning regarding Kodshim that they’re not to be taken outside of the Mikdash area, as if to tell the person to look and contemplate: an animal is a lower level in creation, and if you refer to it as Kodesh, the Kedusha imposed upon it (as a Korban) goes through its entire body, to the point that you can’t get any kind of benefit from it outside of the realm of its Kedusha, unless something happens that causes its desanctification (such as a wound rendering it a tereifah). 

And if that is the case with an animal, which has no inherent holiness unless we impose it upon the animal, imagine the human being, who is already imbued with holiness, how much more-so should we be aiming to spread and enhance our own kedusha through every fabric of our being… 

As to why there is a prohibition on eating even though the Torah isn’t explicit about that, Rabbi Mecklenberg goes on to distinguish between two goals of eating: the pleasure that comes from the actual eating – texture, taste, etc, and the benefit that comes from how the food is processed in the digestive system, spreading nutrients throughout the body. Noting that the way the body internally processes the food can be considered a kind of bishul (cooking), he suggests that the Torah doesn’t use the words “Don’t eat” in the context of mixing meat and milk because for some people (especially if they’ve worked on themselves), they might get no pleasure from the act of eating, but would want the benefits that come once the food has made its way to the stomach (he has an interesting suggestion that ואפשר דלשון אסטומכא הוא מלשון מצטמק ויפה לו – the word “Stomach” is related to mitztamek which is part of the process of cooking). Therefore the prohibition on “cooking meat in milk” can be actualized if the milk and meat were to go down into the stomach together, which is another “reason” why eating the mixture is prohibited. 

 Some people may identify with the image of the cruelty of cooking a kid in its mother’s milk (and by extension any meat in milk). Some people may think there is a health concern. For some, the attaching of a “charge to be holy” to the prohibition of combining milk/meat aims at helping us achieve holiness in a way we may or may not fully appreciate, but nonetheless raises our spiritual essence. 

 May we always either find meaning in our efforts, or nonetheless reap the benefits of holiness from our activities, especially when God (or Moshe) promises that the undertaking is למען ייטב לך – that it is for your benefit.

A Bat Mitzvah Address (Week of Eikev)

 This past Shabbos we celebrated our daughter becoming a Bat Mitzvah. The following is the Torah and message components of the sermon I delivered in shul, with the personal parts removed.

"Parshas Eikev," the second installment – in terms of 'Parsha's in Devarim – of Moshe’s 21-chapters-long speech that covers most of the last book of the Torah, contains a lot of repetitive features. So much so, were I to be pushed to find themes in today’s Torah portion, I think they could be brought down to three major classifications.

1. The value of the observance of Mitzvos and what a true connection to Hashem could be 

2. The stubbornness of the Bnei Yisrael and their need to work hard to counter it, a challenge which can be overcome through humility 

3. A love of the land of Israel 

In honor of our celebration in shul this morning, I will touch upon each of these subjects, and conclude with a message for our Bat Mitzvah. 

VALUE OF OBSERVANCE 

There are several passages that address the value of observance and what will come about from keeping the Mitzvos and following Hashem’s rules. One of the more famous of them is the passage we refer to as the second paragraph of Shema, which promises rain and produce, high yields and abundance. 

 Another passage which touches upon this is the opening verses of the Parsha, which contains the promises of prosperity, children, animals, being the most blessed of nations, and the fulfillment of the covenant and Chesed that God promised to His children. 

 Another passage is the one in which Moshe says 

 (יב) וְעַתָּה֙ יִשְׂרָאֵ֔ל מָ֚ה יְקֹוָ֣ק אֱלֹהֶ֔יךָ שֹׁאֵ֖ל מֵעִמָּ֑ךְ כִּ֣י אִם־לְ֠יִרְאָה אֶת־יְקֹוָ֨ק אֱלֹהֶ֜יךָ לָלֶ֤כֶת בְּכָל־ דְּרָכָיו֙ וּלְאַהֲבָ֣ה אֹת֔וֹ וְלַֽעֲבֹד֙ אֶת־יְקֹוָ֣ק אֱלֹהֶ֔יךָ בְּכָל־לְבָבְךָ֖ וּבְכָל־נַפְשֶֽׁךָ: 

 (יג) לִשְׁמֹ֞ר אֶת־מִצְוֹ֤ת יְקֹוָק֙ וְאֶת־חֻקֹּתָ֔יו אֲשֶׁ֛ר אָנֹכִ֥י מְצַוְּךָ֖ הַיּ֑וֹם לְט֖וֹב לָֽךְ: 

Note how he concludes saying this is לטוב לך – it will be for your betterment. Alshikh explains that the ingredients of revering Hashem, walking in His ways, loving Him, serving Him and keeping His mitzvos properly can ONLY refine a human being into becoming the most wholesome person. Think of anyone we might imagine as being a true Tzaddik or Tzadekes, someone who has worked on themselves to such and extent that their existence is a fulfillment of all of this – do we need more proof that their existence is the embodiment of לטוב לך? Those who live by the Torah’s guidance are only personally enhanced. 

 Moving on to the... 

STUBBORNNESS of the Bnei Yisrael and the Need to Work on It 

Moshe tells the people several times of their being an עם קשה עורף, specifically with the Golden Calf, and also when he describes how the people might think that they inherited the land on account of their own merit, when he reminds them to have the humility to know that it is in the merit of the forefathers and certain promises, but not because they are necessarily deserving. 

 Two different messages are וזכרת את ה' כי הוא הנותן לך כח לעשת חיל, and also ומלתם את ערלת לבבכם. The idea of opening the heart to let Hashem in, and to remember the plight of the widow, the orphan and the גר, the stranger we are commanded to love because we were strangers in Egypt – all that is attached to the phrase וערפכם לא תקשו עוד, not to harden the neck so you are unable to turn and see the plight of the other. 

And finally, there is 

A Love of the Land of Israel. 

 Whether it’s the promise of the land where you can fulfill ALL the Mitzvos, the description of the land as being filled with all kinds of rivers and riverbeds (though their being filled with water is dependent on our behavior), the focus on 7 Minim which include the 5 special fruits of the land, the idea that Hashem will easily clear out the land of its undeserving wicked inhabitants if only you are deserving, a land which has Hashem’s eyes upon it ALL THE TIME (יב) אֶ֕רֶץ אֲשֶׁר־יְקֹוָ֥ק אֱלֹהֶ֖יךָ דֹּרֵ֣שׁ אֹתָ֑הּ תָּמִ֗יד עֵינֵ֨י יְקֹוָ֤ק אֱלֹהֶ֙יךָ֙ בָּ֔הּ מֵֽרֵשִׁית֙ הַשָּׁנָ֔ה וְעַ֖ד אַחֲרִ֥ית שָׁנָֽה: ס - ALL THE TIME, because He has to determine whether we are worthy of being there. 

These are important messages for you to take away from this Parsha in which your becoming Bat Mitzvah is being celebrated. 

It is true that you didn’t prepare to lein a parsha, but you learned the Parsha. 

It is true that you won’t be putting on Tefillin daily. But you can daven daily. 

Moshe Rabbenu emphasizes in this parsha how he prayed to Hashem on behalf of Bnei Yisrael and was heard. And I believe that every Jew has that power. We may not be confronting God in the same way Moshe did, but we all have our needs, our concerns, and hopefully our prayers for others in mind when we pray. 

But shul attendance and participation is actually a very SMALL part of Jewish life. The parsha introduces us to many categories of commandments, including Chukim, Mishpatim, Mitzvos. I know you’re aware of Torot, Avodot, and Edot – which round out the categories that R Shimshon Raphael Hirsch identifies, and these include proper observance of ALL the ways the Torah looks to round out our lives – לטוב לך – so it should be good for you. 

He defines Torot as principles relating to mental and spiritual preparation for life. These include all the mitzvos of how we are to relate to Hashem, and how we relate, on a basic level, to our fellow man. Being compassionate, not listening to those who have a bad influence, judging people favorably. 

He defines Edot as symbolic observances representing truths that form the basis of the life of the people of Israel, which includes the proper observance of Shabbos and every Yom Tov, and appreciating the symbolism in every ritual object or sign – whether its Matzah on pesach, the Sukkah and the 4 Minim on Sukkos, the Shofar on RH, Rosh Chodesh and the New Moon every month, the Mezuzah you encounter all the time, the mitzvah of Challah when you bake bread. 

He defines Mishpatim as Declarations of Justice Towards Human beings, which include respecting people’s space, their bodies, their private property, not cheating in business, being honest, not flattering, or taking advantage of the weak of body or mind. 

 He defines Chukim as laws of righteousness towards beings subordinate to man, towards earth, plant, animal, one’s own body, mind, spirit and word. These include how we relate to animals, how we respect the body of a Jew, both in life and in death, recognizing that it is a vessel that houses a soul and should be elevated through our behavior to serving Hashem best. This includes being cognizant of what we wear, whether we do things to our body that are irreversible or injurious. 

He defines Mitzvot as commandments of love, which include how we relate to our parents, how we relate to people older than us in general, who we marry, how we marry and also how to go about ending a marriage should that be necessary, the importance of Tzedakah and Gemilas Chasadim, having gratitude, and doing everything in our power to avoid the traps of idolatry or similar activities which take us away from that which we should be doing in showing our love for Hashem. 

 He defines Avodah as everything related to how we ritually serve, including the different kinds of davening at different times of year, daily davening, hearing the reading of the Torah and taking it to heart, responding to the parts of davening that require a minyan, such as Borchu, Kaddish, Kedusha. 

 All of this rounds out the Jew and makes for a meaningful and fulfilling life. And for all those who wish to know more, I would encourage the reading of Rav Hirsch’s book Horeb, and Judaism Eternal, and the ways he goes about showing his readers that life must be deliberately lived, with intention. 

I don’t want to harp too much on the downsides of stubbornness and how humility can be a counter to it. At all ages we are faced with the challenge of thinking we know best, that there is nothing to learn from others, that our way is the best, that we cannot admit to mistakes, and that there is no need for improvement. Many people have a natural impediment to accepting criticism, even when it is meant to be constructive and coming from a place of love. The instruction of ומלתם את ערלת לבבכם provides the image that we have to uncover the barrier of our heart which prevents these improvements from getting in.

Finally, the emphasis on the land of Israel. 

 Understandably, Moshe was talking to a generation that was about to be going to the Land. I don’t know if he needed to sell them on the land, but he needed to let them know what kind of observance and grit they would need in order to survive, thrive, and benefit to STAY there. 

 We are blessed to live in a time when living in Israel has become a reality for so many people. You are blessed to have your grandparents and two cousin families living there, and I know you had such a great time visiting them earlier this year. And who knows where life will bring you? It’s not in the cards for everyone to go there – Diaspora Living is a reality of the Jewish people, as it has been for 2000 years. But your Bat Mitzvah parsha reminds you that in many ways your heart should be in Israel. To support Israel and the people living there, to be a spokesperson for Israel, and to love it even if you’re not living there, and to never throw off the possibility of ending up there at some stage in life. 

 You well know that this year has been a turbulent one for the Jewish people all over the world, especially in Israel. You have cousins in the IDF, so I know that Israel is on your mind, even at this young stage of your life. 

The value of Mitzvos. The building of character. A love of the homeland of the Jewish people. 

You have it in you to make these the guiding points of your life. We tend to see ritual such as davening and bentching and learning Torah. But I hope you see that those are tools to getting to the heart and core of what it means to be a Jew. You are in the middle of your family, so you are both a younger sister and an older sister. The older siblings help you build character, and the younger ones help you build a sense of responsibility. And a love of Israel and her people gives you a sense of being part of something much bigger and greater than the small confines of our community.

On behalf of everyone in this room, we all wish you the very best. We are confident that as you embrace this stage of responsibility in life you will rise to the occasion. And we bless you to become a tribute to your family and the Jewish people in becoming the best YOU that you can be.

A Simple Matter

Parshat Eikev

In the “Otzar Chaim” anthology of Divrei Torah, Rabbi Tzukerman (the editor) records a story of a certain man who was aiming to get his certification to be a recognized shochet, so he would be recognized as someone who could slaughter animals for the kosher consumer. The rabbi he went to was a righteous and punctilious man, who would not simply offer his consent to anyone who came his way, but would only put his stamp of approval on a person he felt met all the qualifications, knew all the laws, etc. 

 After several rounds of inadequate tests and not-to-snuff-shechitahs (in the good rabbi’s opinion), the candidate frustratingly asked if the rabbi could hurry up and fulfill his request for the certification. The rabbi hinted to him “Nu, and what about the small matter?” The candidate thought he understood and brought the rabbi a small donation. 

The rabbi, however, was referring to a passage in Brachos 33b which references Yiras Shamayim (fear of Heaven) as being a מילתא זוטרתא, and he was thus indicating to the shochet-in-question that this was an essential ingredient, in the candidate's essence, that was missing in order for him to take upon himself the responsibility of ritual slaughter. 

 This begs the question, is fear of heaven really a “small matter?” That passage in the Talmud quotes Rabbi Chanina’s parable that “someone who is asked to lend a large vessel – if he has one, he sees the favor as no big deal (and perhaps the vessel as nothing special), while someone who is asked to lend a small vessel – if he doesn’t have one to lend, the request seems like a huge request which is insurmountable.” 

Using R Chaim Volozhin as an example, Rabbi Tzukerman notes how while R’ Chaim was exceedingly humble, he personally felt that he never achieved the status of truly being a ירא שמים. Quoting R’ Chaim’s son R’ Yitzchak, he notes that the two qualities are intertwined with one another. The truly humble does not know of his humility and thinks of himself that he is proud and haughty, while he sees others as being on the lofty level that he simply “can’t reach.” When we consider Moshe, who was ענו מכל אדם, he must have felt that he had much to work on while everyone else had achieved the level of being a true 'ירא ה. For him to therefore tell the people, ועתה ישראל מה ה' א-לקיך שואל מעמך כי אם ליראה את ה', “What does Hashem ask of you, but to fear Hashem your God…” is for him to assume that for them Yiras Hashem is a little thing, because to him, it seems that it is so easy for them to achieve. 

 R Yosef B’chor Shor’s comment on this verse says the following [presented as a translation and then we’ll revisit]: 

Reverence of God is a light (easy) matter, for if the whole world tells you not to revere God, it is upon you to [nonetheless] have that reverence, for your life and soul is in His hand. And it is in His hand to bring death and to give life, and none escape [these realities]. It is just (as in din) that you should have fear of Him, and you should do all He commands you. There is no poor human who is reliant on you in the way that your existence relies on the Almighty. 

 From you. 'I request nothing from you but fear and love', for all the commandments are not from you but rather from Him; if He gives you a house, make a mezuzah and a fence [for its flat roof]. Clothing, make fringes. Money, make of it donations. Grain and grape juice and wine, make from them priestly and other tithes. A son, circumcise him. It turns out, performance of the mitzvot is ultimately from God! There is no Ishmaelite (Arab?) merchant in the world who, when he gives you 20 dinarim, for whom you wouldn’t give a half or a third to the place he instructs, and you would be grateful to him. And so too, you should give on the Holy One’s sake and to praise Him for what He did for you, [with the ability to] “give for Him,” [where you need] not beg at the doors. And this is [what it means] that He is not asking of you to give from “yours.” All He asks is just fear and love and the intention of the heart, and thus it is written (Job 41:3): "Who has a previous claim on Me, that I should repay him? All that is under the heavens is Mine!" -- I am first to give to them, before they give to Me anything.” 

He goes on to point to the notion that this verse מה ה' שואל is the source for the concept of saying 100 Brachos a day (reading מה as מאה – 100), as there are 100 letters in the verse (among other teachings). 

There are many possible messages we can take from this. Let us focus on two of them. 

 The first is the more obvious. God made a world, and He simply makes its resources available to us. He uses the Arab merchant as an example [though he lived 800 years ago in France] we can look at of someone giving material goods to be distributed, and our being grateful for the opportunity to do Chesed with it. God gives and gives and asks for nothing in return except to revere Him, love Him, and observe His commandments. One way of clearly demonstrating our gratitude is the additional daily focus we can and should have on reciting 100 blessings a day. 

The second message of how we take from the world He made and elevate everything through keeping His mitzvos is perhaps a message we don’t consider enough. 

 I recently watched a conversation that Rabbi Tuvia Singer posted on his YouTube channel, in which he made the following observation. Ask most people you encounter what they think of Chinese people (those living in China), and since they don’t know too many Chinese people, they likely won’t have an opinion about them. Same about Japanese people. And Indian people. (Those living in Asia) He uses those groups altogether because between them they comprise of over 60% of the world population. The people we know don’t have a specific opinion about them because we don’t know them.

But the Jews, who comprise such a tiny fraction of a percent of the world population, and most of the world hasn’t even met a Jew – everyone has an opinion about us! [His point was that if it seems unfair, it was God’s plan for us to matter, even if our numbers are relatively tiny in comparison to other peoples and faiths.] And perhaps to our discredit, we sometimes care too much about what they think. 

Were we to simply follow the Torah’s teachings, we would indeed see that it is all “for our own good.” But in worrying about how our actions will be perceived, we bend following the dictates which God has given us in order to make us look good in the eyes of “them who are watching.” Some Jewish leaders have even used the “Chillul Hashem” card to suggest that when we don’t shapeshift our values to align with values not our own, we are desecrating God’s name. [The way some use this in political conversations is quite disingenuous. One very simple example of a hot topic - frenzied up by media permissiveness, but nonetheless is a big one – the Torah’s perspective is that every person is committed in the image of God. That having been said, certain lifestyle choices are not in alignment with the Torah’s values. We can give dignity to a person-created-in-God’s-image, but we cannot condone actions that go against the Torah’s values.] 

Bending over in whatever direction to avoid “the goyim not liking us” and to avoid “a self perceived Chillul Hashem” does not make it the wrong thing. Those who call Jews getting attention for standing for Torah values a Chillul Hashem do not know what a Chillul Hashem is. Jews who wear “Jewish garb” and make people “uncomfortable” because of their attire are not committing a Chillul Hashem. Jews standing for their rights to pray in holy places in Israel are not committing a Chillul Hashem. Jews defending other Jews are not committing a Chillul Hashem. 

God gave us a world, and gave us an instruction book for how to live our best life in this world. May we only hold these truths to be self evident (as America’s Founders put it) that living a life of fealty to God is a path of goodness, particularly when we go about that task with humility, leaving space for others to find their path with the Torah’s guidance in a manner that is true to its instruction - with a multiplicity of options for how to make the most out of this blessed life.

Does Our Life Have a Purpose? Depends on How You Look At It

Parshat Va'Etchanan 

by Rabbi Avi Billet

The methodology behind coming up with each topic for a weekly Dvar Torah is a study unto itself. Sometimes the thought is driven by something the writer really wants to say – the message is there, and it’s just a question of attaching it to a verse in the Parsha. Sometimes the writer has a burning question that is personally troubling, so answering that conundrum becomes the driving force behind the research. Sometimes a cursory reading through Midrash will beg the question “what is this telling us?” or “what does this really mean?” and will lead the thought in a different direction. 

 And sometimes one comes across a troubling passage and has a need to “think aloud” but on paper. 

 The following is of the latter variety. 

In asking why God allowed for the first Temple to be built and destroyed, and the second Temple to be built and destroyed, and for us to be waiting for so long until the Third Temple is presented, ostensibly to have been built by His hand, a passage in Apirion presents the following parable. 

A king found what he believed to be the perfect life partner for his daughter, a young budding scholar with tremendous potential, but who was much too young to be married. Not wanting his daughter to wait single and alone until the young man was mature, ready, and having met his perceived potential, the king found a “suitable” match for his daughter who, he figured, in due time, would prove himself unsuitable, which would prompt the princess to leave him to finally find that her true intended is available and ready to marry. And indeed, as the parable concludes, after the passage of the requisite number of years, the now divorced princess marries this incredible young man, to live happily ever after. Not only that, but her father is MOST satisfied because his daughter is now truly happy, living a blissful existence with the spouse most perfect for her. 

 The parable’s explanation weaves together two verses. 

 The first is from our parsha, chapter 3, verse 27, context being Moshe explaining how God told him to ascend a mountain and to look hard at the land which he would not be crossing into.

 27 Go up to the top of the hill and lift up your eyes westward and northward and southward and eastward and see with your eyes, for you shall not cross this Jordan.

 כז עֲלֵ֣ה | רֹ֣אשׁ הַפִּסְגָּ֗ה וְשָׂ֥א עֵינֶ֛יךָ יָ֧מָּה וְצָפֹ֛נָה וְתֵימָ֥נָה וּמִזְרָ֖חָה וּרְאֵ֣ה בְעֵינֶ֑יךָ כִּי־לֹ֥א תַֽעֲבֹ֖ר אֶת־הַיַּרְדֵּ֥ן הַזֶּֽה: 

The second is from Tehillim 104, verse 31, the context being a laundry list of God’s admirable traits and how the author will sing His praises. 

31The glory of the Lord will be forever; the Lord will rejoice with His works.

 לא יְהִ֚י כְב֣וֹד יְהֹוָ֣ה לְעוֹלָ֑ם יִשְׂמַ֖ח יְהֹוָ֣ה בְּמַֽעֲשָֽׂיו: 

The Rabbis taught that since the verse does not say שמח, that God rejoices (present tense) with His works, the implication is that there will be a time in the future when God will rejoice with His works. In other words, it has not happened yet. We can use freedom from Egyptian bondage as a great example. Whatever was achieved at that time was only temporary! One of the reasons given by the Rabbis for why Moshe did not enter the land was because God knew that whatever would happen there, whatever was to be built would not last. The Children of Israel were bound to be exiled, and so this was not going to be the final passage into the land. 

 The verse in Tehillim is therefore saying, “When there will be honor for God forever, then He will rejoice in His works.” 

Moshe Rabbenu is therefore being told, “Raise your eyes and see. Really look! It is not the right time for you, Moshe, to come over. You’re the correct groom, but the people aren’t ready to have you yet. If things were to go wrong with this union, there may not be a recovery. But your looking “with your eyes” is to see off into the future, for when the time will be right, because THEN will God rejoice over His works, when God’s honor is fully restored in the future.” 

 In trying to make sense of this Apirion passage we’re faced with the reality that understanding these verses to be explaining the present, noting it is not the right time for these achievements, the simple understanding fits in with this view:

 • Moshe has to penetratingly look, to truly understand what the land is about, and how the time isn’t right for him to come into the land, because nothing that will be built in the coming thousand years will last

 • The promise of God’s true honor and joy are presented in future tense, and there is no time limit given as to when that future will come and be the present. For it to be true, it needs to be נצחי, eternal, and that hasn’t been achieved yet, even until our times. 

At the same time, is our relationship with God supposed to be compared to a princess who marries a man who is unfit for her, because the time isn’t right for her to be united with her truly intended? 

Is all of Jewish history a “feint,” like a hockey player deking out the defender who thinks he sees exactly what’s coming, but the truth is that it’s all been misleading, because there is a higher goal and a higher purpose yet to be achieved? 

 And if we go in that direction, is the true goal actually in this world, or is it something only truly achievable in the world to come? 

Has the point of Jewish history just been to serve as a bridge between the Exodus and the ultimate redemption which has not yet been achieved? Are we just tools, or better yet pawns, in a game that has hardly even begun? 

That hardly seems the point the Torah emphasizes. The Torah’s messaging, also presented through a theme that keeps coming up in our parsha, is that Mitzvos have value. They are good for a person! Some of them, when fulfilled, guarantee long life! It is hard to imagine that the long-life-promise is for a life that is void of meaning, riddled by the ultimate existential question of whether, in the end, each of our lives has any purpose at all. 

Perhaps the answer to this question is expressed in the most famous “Ani Maamin” – the one which speaks of waiting every day for the coming of the Messiah. “Even though he tarries, with all this I shall wait for him, for whichever day he may arrive.” There is merit to being a torch bearer, a banner carrier, a sentinel, a guard. We may or may not appreciate the value of what we are protecting, but each of us is nonetheless an imperial guard making sure that whatever is meant to make it to the end of days, and whether we are actually there to witness it, our role is to help preserve it, as pristine as we can, so that when that day comes, our fingerprints will be all over whatever ends up being present when God’s honor is finally considered נצחי, and לעולם, lasting forever. 

 Halevai, we should all merit to be there in one form or another, witnessing the final realization of the sentiment given to Moshe, and the hope for what the future will look like, when the true Glory of God is finally achieved in this world!