Parshas Vezos HaBracha - a thought on the last Rashi in the Torah

“And there has never arisen a prophet in Israel like Moshe, whom God knew face to face. For all the signs and wonders that God sent him to perform in the land of Egypt, to Pharoah and to all his servants and to his entire land. And for all the strong hand and for the entire great display that Moshe performed in view of all of Israel.”

~ Devarim 34:10-12

In view of all of Israel. When he [Moshe] took the liberty of shattering the tablets before their eyes, as it is said “I shattered them before their eyes.” [Sifre, referencing Shemos 34:1]. The Holy One, Blessed is He, consented to his opinion as it is said “which you shattered” – [as if to say] “More power to you for shattering them!”

~ Rashi on Devarim 34:12

What are we to make of Rashi’s last note, on the last clause of the Torah, which appears to commend Moshe for shattering the two tablets God gave when he saw the golden calf? What is Rashi’s parting thought teaching us?

Perhaps it is this. There are times when each of us sets out to do a ‘great thing.’ We have only noble intentions, invest a lot of time in the effort, and the initial signs are very favorable. We continue on our mission and after many days and much investment, we turn around to discover that the conditions are not at all right for our project. If we try to advance our project, it may do more harm than good.

What do we do? Do we ignore reality and forge ahead anyway? We learn from Moshe, our greatest teacher, in the midst of one of his greatest projects, that as frustrating as it may be, sometimes you have to be prepared to shatter the tablets and start again.

Parshas Ha’azinu – A thought on the first Rashi

“Hearken, O heaven, as I declare and let the Earth hear the sayings of my mouth.”

~ Devarim 32:1

Hearken, O heaven. That I [Moshe] admonish the Israelites, so that you may serve as witnesses to the matter. For so I informed them, that you would be witnesses [see Devarim 30:19]. Similarly, “let the Earth hear.” Why did he designate the Heaven and the Earth to testify against them? Moshe said [to himself]: I am only mortal and tomorrow I may die. In case the Israelites declare ‘We never agreed to fulfill the covenant,’ who will refute them? He therefore designated, to testify against them, Heaven and Earth, witnesses who endure forever…

~ Rashi on Devarim 32:1

Can inanimate objects serve as witnesses? It seems from Rashi’s comment that they can. And this is not the only time in the Torah that an element of nature is designated as a ‘witness’ to the affairs of humanity. Another instance is in Bereshis, where Lavan states (after a heated argument with Jacob) about a monument and a mound of stones raised by Jacob and his sons: “This mound shall be a witness and the monument shall be a witness that I may not cross over to you past this mound, nor may you cross over to me past this mound and this monument for evil.” (31:52).

How do we understand these instances? I find it unlikely that these elements are being designated as actual witnesses, if for no other reason than the fact that it’d be rather difficult to obtain their testimony if it was ever needed. Rather, the speakers in both verses (Moshe in Devarim and Lavan in Bereshis) are using the term ‘witness’ in an effort to invest the elements with added symbolism that will trigger associations, in the future, in the minds of the listeners.

We do the same thing, for ourselves, in many ways. For example, we return from an enjoyable vacation with a memento (could be a stone from the beach or a pinecone from a forest) that, when we view it, reminds us of the ease and calm we felt during our getaway. People may look at their engagement rings (glorified rocks!) or wedding bands (molded metals!) and be reminded of the hope, love, and commitment they undertook at the start of their marriage.

On the first Shabbat of the New Year, it might be worthwhile to look around our homes and consider what (and how many) objects we have consciously set in our own paths, to serve as conscious reminders of our dedication to serve God’s will. Is there a leftover esrog from a prior year, a prized Tzedaka box, a spice box from the Olive Wood factory in Jerusalem, or something else? Do they still speak to you?  Perhaps, as we age, it is worthwhile to take stock of our witnesses, assess how well they are testifying, and see if some new witnesses are needed.

Parshas Nitzovim/VaYeilech – A thought on the first Rashi

“You stand this day, all of you, before the Lord your God; your tribal chiefs, your elders, and your officers, every man of Israel. Your young, your wives, and your convert who is within your camps; from the wood cutters to the water drawers.”

~ Devarim 29:9-10

You stand, this day. This teaches that Moshe gathered them [every one of the people] before the Holy One, may He be blessed, on the day he [Moshe] died, to introduce them into the covenant.

~ Rashi on Devarim 29:9  

The verse Rashi highlights, in his view, strikes a strong note of inclusiveness. Rashi’s comment resonates for me in two different very recent occurances in my life.

This past Friday a colleague in another department at work called to tell me that she was distressed to learn that I’d begun work to plan an event, which she would be asked to support, without first consulting her. I told her that I had consulted with her boss and was under the impression that he had advised her of this new activity. She was not placated by my reconstruction of the events. As I thought the matter over, it occurred to me that I had put this colleague in an uncomfortable spot by leaving her out of the loop; I had failed to be as inclusive in the decision-making process as I could have been.

Over the weekend I thought it would be a nice thing to invite guests for dinner on Sunday night, both to share the abundant leftovers we had from Shabbos and to help celebrate my daughter’s planned departure, the next day, for her year in Israel. I asked my wife who we could invite and she said: “Ask your daughter.” My initial instinct was to recoil at the added consultation required to set up a social engagement; after all, my wife was the only opinion I needed to consult for the past 18 years – why change now? But, of course, she was right. My daughter is now a young woman and it is a good measure of decency to include her view when making social plans.

Both episodes make me wonder, as I try to look back on this past year – were there other situations where I could have been, should have been, more inclusive and by failing to do so I left people feeling hurt, estranged, or anxious?

Parshas Ki Savo - A thought on the first Rashi

“When it happens that you come to the land that the Lord, your God, is giving you as territory and you inherit it and settle it.”

~ Devarim 26:1

When it happens that you come … and you inherit and settle it. This teaches that they were not obligated to bring the first fruits until they conquered the land and apportioned it.

~ Rashi on Devarim 26:1

Rabbi Avrohom Davis explains that we understand from Rashi’s comment that before the Jewish people finished their conquest and division of the land of Israel, Jews could eat the fruits and vegetables grown there without first bringing first fruits to Jerusalem.

How do we think the Jews of that era viewed their ‘freedom’ from the mitzvah of first fruits, during the interim period? They would have been well aware of the commandment to bring first fruits to Jerusalem, reiterated in this week’s parsha, and would know that the rule was only applicable after the conquest of Canaan was complete.

Perhaps some Jews at that time found the produce sweeter, because it came with fewer restrictions than (they knew) would apply later. Perhaps other Jews ate the fruit yet quietly pined for the conquest to be complete, so they could fully celebrate the bounty of the land by sanctifying a portion to thank God for His great kindnesses.

 

Which attitude do you relate to best? Are you quite comfortable when something happens and you are ‘free’ of certain restrictions in Jewish life? A great example of this, suggested by my teacher Rabbi Eli Reisman, would be when it rains on Succos and you are compelled to eat indoors; Are you quietly (or not so quietly) relieved? Or are you more akin to the almost-Bar Mitzvah boy, who (according to custom) starts putting on his teffilin weeks in advance of the big day, to show his eagerness for the mitzvah yet to arrive?

Parshas Ki Seitzei - a thought on one of the first Rashis

"If you should go to war against your enemies and the Lord your God puts them in your hand and you capture prisoners from them. And you see among the prisoners a beautiful woman; if you desire her, you may take her as your wife."

~ Devorim 21:10-11

You may take her as your wife. The Torah speaks only to go against the evil inclination, because if God would not permit her, he (the Jewish soldier) would live with her illicitly. But if he does marry her, he will ultimately hate her, as it is further stated: "If a man has two wives, etc. " [see 21:15] and ultimately he will father, with her, a wayward and rebellious son [see 21:18]. That is why these chapters adjoin one another.

~ Rashi on Devorim 12:11

Rashi's view is that the Torah grants permission to a Jewish soldier to marry a captivating captive only as a necessary but unfortunate (and ill-fated) concession to human nature. As I'm aware, this is not the only instance of the Torah  making such a concession. For example, it is the opinion of Rav Avraham Yitzchak HaKohen Kook that God granted Noah and his descendants permission to eat meat, after the Flood, (Bereshis 9:3) only as a last resort, in recognition that humankind had become desensitized to violence and could no longer restrain its desire for meat [see Nehama Leibowitz, Studies in Bereshis, p. 77].

These two instances are, at least, well within the realm of Torah-approved allowances to our less refined tendencies. Two questions we should ask ourselves, as we prepare for Rosh HaShana, are: What are the allowances we give ourselves that fall outside the realm of Torah-sanctioned concessions? And can we, perhaps, hold ourselves to a higher standard in the upcoming New Year?

Parshas Shoftim - a thought on the first Rashi

“Judges and police officers you shall appoint for yourself in all the cities that HaShem, your God, is giving you for all your tribes; they should judge the people (with) righteous judgment.”

~ Devorim 16:18

Judges and police officers. Judges – the magistrates who render legal decisions. Police officers – who compel the people to abide by their (the judges’) instructions by administering punishment, with clubs and whips, until they accept the judge’s decision.

~ Rashi on Devorim 16:18

Rashi’s comment on this verse suggests that, in an ideal situation, wherever there is an institution that adjudicates legal disputes there must also be a group charged with enforcing those decisions. Without such a pairing, judgment is a hollow exercise and justice becomes a mockery.

Adding to our understanding of this verse, the Seforno points out that the Gemara (Makos 7a) notes the use of the phrase “… in all your cities that HaShem, your God, is giving you for all your tribes” and uses it to qualify the command that you have judges and officers ‘in all your cities.” The Gemara instructs us that this imperative only applies in the lands that the Jewish people conquer within the Land of Israel. If the Jewish people go to war and win lands outside the Land of Israel, they only require judges and officers in every district but not in each city.”

Seforno’s comment, and the Gemara’s ruling, instructs us that in an area of greater holiness (the Land of Israel), greater efforts must be made to offer and administer justice while in an area of lesser holiness, efforts to insure justice need not be as comprehensive.

Having just entered the month of Elul, it is worth asking ourselves if we are making the greatest efforts in the areas of the greatest holiness in our own lives. Or perhaps our levels of vigilance and exactitude are not always aligned with our values. Consider these questions - What is the current balance in your bank account? What is the latest standing of your favorite baseball team (or political party)? What Torah idea did you learn or consider anew this week? To which mitzvah are you giving special attention this month?

If you can answer all four questions substantively, great! But if only two or three of these questions are relevant to you, which ones are they? And what does that say about you?

Parshas Re'ey - a thought on one of the first Rashis

“Look, I am placing before you today a blessing and a curse. The blessing, that (if) you heed the commandments of HaShem your God that I am commanding you today. And the curse, if you do not heed the commandments of HaShem your God and you veer from the course which I command you this day, to follow other gods which you did not know.”

~ Devarim 11:26-28

From the course which I command you this day, to follow etc. This teaches that anyone who worships idols has strayed from the entire course commanded to Israel. From here we learn that anyone who admits to idolatry denies the entire Torah.

~ Rashi on Devarim 11:28

Rashi’s explanation underscores the frightful gravity of the offense of worshipping gods beside HaShem, which is a viewed as a direct affront to God and a rejection of the entire Torah. This message is communicated repeatedly in Sefer Devarim (see, for instance, the reiteration of the Ten Commandments, Devarim 5:6-18, and later in our Parsha, 12:28-13:17).

This pointed injunction against the worshiping of other gods can prompt us to consider its correlates in interpersonal situations.

I’m confident that, if I asked what constitutes a similar unforgivable betrayal in a marriage, most people would answer “adultery.” If I considered what was the most painful betrayal for a child, it might be a situation where his/her parents violated his trust or acted in a way that showed they had no confidence in her skills or judgment.

In the same vein, what would be a painful betrayal of a good friend? Or a professional colleague you work with frequently? Or an aging, sometimes forgetful, and occasionally difficult parent? 

And if we accept that every potential offense exists on a continuum, from slight to severe, are there small betrayals we commit without thinking more commonly?

Our answers to these questions may differ, of course, as personalities and circumstances vary. The important thing is to ask ourselves the questions.

Parshas Ekev - A thought on the first Rashi

“And it will be, as a consequence of (Ekev) you heeding these laws, and you guard them and fulfill them; HaShem your God will guard for you the covenant and the kindness that he swore to your forefathers.”

~ Devorim 7:12

And it will be, as a consequence of (Ekev) you heeding these laws. If you will heed even the smaller commandments, which a person [sometimes] tramples on with his heels (B’EhKayVav), then … HaShem, your God will guard, etc. He will keep his promise to you. 

~ Rashi on Devorim 7:12

Rashi points out the use here of the uncommon word Ekev (as a consequence of) and draws on a comment from the Midrash Tanchuma, which ties this to another word with a similar root, EhKayVa (heel). The lesson, he suggests, is that our heavenly reward is contingent on our adherence to all the mitzvot, not just those we favor but also those that we might downplay, fulfill half-heartedly, or even ignore.

This raises an interesting challenge, which each of us faces individually:

What are your ‘smaller mitzvot’?

For each of us, the answer will be different by dint of our individual preferences.  

We recently concluded the mournful and introspective season of the three weeks and entered the seven-week period that leads to the High Holydays. Perhaps now is a fine time to start considering which ‘little’ areas of observance we each have neglected and what we might resolve to improve upon in the new Jewish year.

Parshas Ve'etchanan - a thought on the first Rashi

This weeks parashah of וָאֶתְחַנַּן [Va’etchanan] begins:

    וָאֶתְחַנַּן אֶל יְה בָּעֵת הַהִוא לֵאמֹר

 Va’etchanan el Hashem v’ayt ha he laymor

“And I implored [or entreated] Hashem at the time, saying…”

 Breaking down the sentence into three components we can see the following.

Rashi teaches us that the word Va'etchanan “And I implored” is a derivative of the word chinan, which always signifies [the request for] an unearned gift.   Moses we all know is one of if not the most righteous Jews to have lived or ever is likely to live. Even though the righteous could justify their requests based on their good deeds, in their humility they only request unearned gifts from G-d. It is said that it is probable that this is because the righteous would prefer to receive any form of reward in the world to come, rather than in this life.

“At that time.”   Rashi goes on to explain that to a certain extent Moses may have actually thought he had avoided his long feared fate of not being able to enter the land of Israel.   Perhaps he was thinking that “after I had conquered the land of Sihon and Og, I thought that perhaps the vow [which G-d had made, that I should not enter the land] was nullified, [since the land I entered has become part of the land of Canaan].

“Saying,” This is one of three occasions in which Moses said before G-d, “I will not let You go until You let me know whether or not You will grant my request.”  Of course we know better.   Moses was not to be allowed to enter the land to which he had led the children of Israel for more than 40 years, despite this heartfelt petition.   In fact G-d if anything becomes angry with Moses for the repeated asking.

In our generation, many of us feel entitled, to be given things - as a reward for our good deeds, whether it be for an act of chessed [kindness], performing a mitzvah [good dead] or “just because.”     What we should realize, especially in this generation, is that we are the recipients of so many gifts, on so many levels each and every day.   Both on a personal level, on a communal level, in the land of Israel, and as a nation of Am Yisrael.

We should all strive to be on the level of Moses, to be humble enough to recognize that what we pray for each day is not the repayment of our great righteousness but, rather, the continued gifts of a very gracious God.

Shabbat shalom.

Guest posting by

Marc Turansky

(a commentary on his Bar-Mitzvah parsha!)

Parshas Devarim - a thought on the first few Rashis

“These are the words that Moshe addressed to all of [the Children of] Israel across the Jordan, in the wilderness, on the Arava plain facing Suf, between Poron and Tofel, and Lovon and Chatzeiros and Di Zohov.”

~ Devarim 1:1

Rashi notes that the place names in this verse do not correspond to the location of the Israelite camp when the Book of BaMidbar (Numbers) ended, when they were encamped in the plains of Moav. Additionally, some of the place names (such as Tofel and Lovon) appear nowhere else in Scripture. Rashi concludes that these geographic identifiers actually serve as coded rebukes of the Jews for previous bad behavior – “in the wilderness” alludes to the episodes when the Jews grumbled against God in the desert, “Facing Suf” hints at the complaints of the Jews as the Egyptian army approached them by the Yom Suf (Red Sea), Tofel and Lovon are plays on Hebrew words to intimate the Jews’ malicious criticisms of the manna (which was white, lovon), and so on.

As a teacher, I interpret Moshe Rabbeinu’s struggles with the Jewish people by considering his role as our preeminent teacher. He was given a lesson plan to follow – food and water regularly provided by acts of Divine kindness, miracles such as the splitting of the Red Sea and tremendous military victories to demonstrate God’s benevolence, and an all-encompassing code of laws to guide the people’s daily lives. It was a comprehensive, all-encompassing lesson plan. Yet, as we know from reading Shemos, VaYikra, and BaMidbar, the students continuously rebelled.

It took tremendous patience and sensitivity of a man of Moshe’s stature to reason with the Jewish people, recognize and accept their shortcomings, and (at times) persuade God not to obliterate them. All teachers would be well served by reading this week’s parsha carefully, to be reminded that even history’s most masterful teacher faced frequent complaints and serious challenges to his lesson plan; we should expect no less.

It would do us all a lot of good to remind ourselves of role models to teaching success, who reflect Moshe Rabbeinu’s skills and resilience. For me, one such role model was Mrs. Chaya Newman – the principal of Bruriah High School for Girls (and my boss) for over three decades. Like Moshe, she faced complaints from all quarters – students, teachers, parents, and other administrators. I used to marvel at her ability to wade through and sift the complaints, to determine which were legitimate concerns and which were not. She must have read Parshas Devarim many times.

Guest posting by

Joel Glazer

Author of “It Happened in my Classroom”

Social Studies teacher in Bruriah High School for Girls

1 Av 5773

July 8, 2013  

Parshas Pinchas: A thought on one of the first Rashi commentaries

“And God spoke to Moshe saying: Pinchas the son of Elazar, the grandson of Aharon the kohain, has turned my anger away from Bnei Yisroel by his vengeance for me among them, so I did not destroy Bnei Yisroel in my vengeance.”

~ BaMidbar 25:10

“And the name of the slain Israelite man, who was killed with the Midianite woman, was Zimri the son of Salu.”

~ BaMidbar 25:14

The name of the Israelite man, etc. In the place where the lineage of a righteous person is mentioned for praise, the lineage of a wicked person is mentioned for shame. 

~ Rashi on BaMidbar 25:14

This small comment by Rashi has a lot to say to us.

As observant Jews, we may decry the sensationalism and scandal-obsession of our news media. And indeed, there is much to dismiss in the preoccupation of reporters, newspapers, and websites. But underscoring all this is a very real and worthwhile human drive – the need to constantly define our moral values, in a communal (and very public) manner. This need is accomplished by identifying those that transgress important boundaries and commit repulsive acts.

We see the explicitness of the Torah, in recounting the sins of Zimri, and in accounts of other deplorable acts described in the Navi’im (Prophets) and in the Gemara (Talmud). It appears that – while concerns of Tzni’ut (modesty) and Shemiras HaLoshon (proper speech) are quite salient – there will always be a place in our tradition for publicly calling out people behaving badly.

And yet there is a vital bit of context that is evident here, which we must not overlook. The episode of Pinchas & Zimri bears a similarity with the episode of the spies, in that in both situations the Torah takes pains to show us who acted righteously in contrast to the sinfulness of others (with the spies, it was Caleb and Yehoshua). Rashi’s comment suggests that our sociological/communal need to define our shared values is served well only when we make sure to also identify those deserving praise whenever we call out those who should be condemned.

Parshas Balak - Thoughts on the first Rashi

“And Balak the son of Zippor saw all that Israel had done to the Amorites.  And Moab was sore afraid of the people, because they were many; and Moab was overcome with dread because of the children of Israel.”

BaMidbar 22:2-3

The question when reading the Pasuk in Hebrew is obvious: Why does the opening start off with the words “what Yisroel had done to the Emori, and then immediately in the next Pasuk say that Balak was afraid of “HAAM” /“the nation/people”. Why does the Torah switch from “Yisroel” to “HAAM” - Wouldn’t it make sense to use the word “Yisroel”, or even better, describe them with a pronoun like “them”?

In addition, the usage of the word “Vayuguru” also has to be brought into question. Rashi explains that it is a Loshon (language) of awe or fear. But if that is the case, then why not use the word “Pachad” or “Yira”, both expressions that are more commonly used to denote fear. What was the Torah hinting at by using the Shoresh “Gur” to denote fear?

I would like to posit that Balak saw that there was major “Hebrew Fever”. Mitzrayim, one of the most powerful cultures had just been decimated by a small nation led by a Supernatural power. Not only were they destroyed, but many of their own people converted and joined the Jewish people on their journey to the Holy Land…right through the land of Moab. This of course explains the usage of the word “AM” which many commentaries explain throughout the Torah as referring to the Erev Rav.  Balak, whose own people had been struggling with strife with the Midianites for so many years, was afraid that this mass conversion was an epidemic that would influence his own people. It was this reason why he was afraid of the growing popularity of the Jewish people. Hence, the Torah uses the “Gur” shoresh which is also the Shoresh for “Gairus,” conversion, thus alluding to Balak’s real fear.

The lesson we learn is obvious. When we act the way we are supposed to, the inspiration that is caused is not only within but also beyond. Let us always take this message with us wherever we go.  

Guest posting by

Rabbi Ari Glazer

Far Rockaway, NY 

Parshas Chukas – Thoughts on the first Rashi

“And God spoke to Moshe and Aaron saying: This is the statute of the Torah which God commanded, saying: Speak to the children of Israel that they take to you a red cow, perfect, without a blemish, upon which no yoke was placed.”

~ BaMidbar 19:1-2

This is the statute (Chukas) of the Torah. Because Satan and the nations of the world taunt Israel, saying: “What is this commandment? What is the reason for it?” Therefore the Torah refers to it as Chukas, a statute. I decreed it and you are not permitted to question it.

~ Rashi on BaMidbar 19:2

Rashi’s comment instructs us that the commandment to take a pure red cow, burn it, and use its ashes to purify those contaminated through contact with the dead (19: 3-22) is offered without any explanation or symbolism as to why the ritual effects purification. The strangeness of the ritual, and its lack of rationale, has been used by other nations as a reason to mock the Jews.

This brings to mind, for me, the mishnah in Pirke Avot: “Antignos of Socho received the tradition from Simon the Tzadik. He used to say: Be not like servants who serve the master on the condition of receiving a reward. Rather, be as servants who serve the master without the condition of receiving a reward. And let the fear of Heaven be upon you. “ (1:3)

It may well be that part of the reward for observing many mitzvot is the knowledge that there is a satisfying reason for the commandment. For example, we show kindness to strangers because we were strangers in Egypt, we honor our parents because we are instructed that this is linked to the prospects of long life, etc. Looking through the prism of the above cited mishnah, we can see that one possible lesson of a commandment such as the one to prepare the ashes of the red cow may be that we should aspire to a higher than usual level of service to God – one in which any ‘reward’ of rationale is absent. Such service may be less reassuring (because we don’t know why we’re doing it) but, conversely, it demonstrates much greater dedication.

Parshas Korach – Thoughts on the first Rashi

“And Korach took (VaYeeKach), the son of Kehos, the son of Levi, and Dasan and Aviram the sons of Eliav, and On the son of Peles, the sons of Reuvein.”

~ Bamidbar 16:1

And Korach took. He took himself to a different side, to be disassociated from the community and to cast aspersions on the priesthood.

~ Rashi on Bamidbar 16:1

When Rashi encountered the word “VaYeeKach” or a variation in the context of one person ‘taking’ another, he usually understood it to indicate persuasion. As an example, later in Bamidbar (20:25) Moshe is instructed to ‘take’ Aharon (“Kach”) and prepare him for his (Aharon’s) demise. There, Rashi comments on the word ‘Take’: “With comforting words (should Moshe summon Aharon). Say to him: “How fortunate you are to see your post handed to your son- something which I do not merit to see (in my own life).” ¹

In this week’s parsha, Rashi gives the word “VaYeeKach” a slightly different flavor. Since the verse places the word before Korach’s name, and then lists his lineage, Rashi understands that Korach persuaded himself to dissent from the community. It is interesting to me that when this verb-form is used in the Torah to connote an internal dialogue, the connotation is negative. I cannot recall another use of the verb-form in the Torah in this manner (self-directed) so all we have is this one instance, which is not viewed favorably. Is there a lesson here?

Perhaps the Torah is casting suspicions on a situation when someone’s inner conversation persuades him or her to pursue a leadership position, absent any calling (from God, or from his or her peers), that this is an appropriate role for them. As we see from Korach’s example, the calling to leadership that someone hears only internally may well be rooted in arrogance or hubris.

¹ = Rabbi Eliezer Wolf of the Beth David Highland Lakes shul in Aventura, Florida, in a Dvar Torah posted online, points out that Rashi consistently applies this understanding of the verb-form ‘to take’ in Shemos 14:6 (Pharoah ‘takes’ his people, to chase the Jews who recently left Egypt), VaYikra 8:2 (Moshe ‘takes’ Aharon and exhorts him to start the sacrificial service), and Bamidbar 27:22 (Moshe ‘takes’ Joshua and appoints him as the new leader of the Jewish people), and in other places.

Parshas Shelach – Thoughts on the first Rashi

“And God spoke to Moshe, saying: Send, for yourself, men and have them scout the Land of Cana’an, which I am giving to B’nei Yisrael; you shall send one man, one man each, from his father’s tribe, each a leader among them.”

~ BaMidbar 13:1-2

Send, for yourself. Why is the chapter of the spies adjacent to the chapter of Miriam (the episode of her gossip about Moshe and subsequent punishment, 12:1-16)? Because she was punished over the matter of her slanderous conversation about her brother and those wicked men (the spies) saw but did not take instruction from the matter.

~ Rashi on BaMidbar 13:2

Rashi points out to us that the men selected to spy out the Land of Cana’an could have learned from Miriam’s experience and been careful not to speak poorly of the land God selected which, ultimately, served as disrespect of God Himself. But they ignored the example.

This brings to my mind an occurrence from somewhat recent news. In September 2011 New Jersey newspapers reported that, in a private meeting with wealthy conservative donors in Colorado months earlier, New Jersey Governor Chris Christie made fun of New Jersey Assembly Speaker Sheila Oliver (a Democrat) by stating that she needed his help to maintain her leadership post after she worked with him on legislation to decrease benefits to public workers. Oliver hotly denied the account and expressed bitter words about the governor.

The account may have amused the Governor’s partisan audience. But whether or not it was true it’s highly doubtful that this tidbit, which he shared with a group of people, enhanced his relationship with one of the legislative leaders he needs to advance other parts of his agenda.

This type of episode is repeated, in different forms, on both sides of the political aisle with reliable frequency. Influential people say things they shouldn’t and suffer consequences. I believe that nothing happens by coincidence, merely for our bemusement, or solely for partisan delight. So I ask myself, and any reader: When we see a very public episode of careless talk, such as the one I recounted with Governor Christie, are we wise enough to take the hint we’ve just been given, to be more careful ourselves? Or, like the spies, do we miss the signal and continue blithely on our merry way?

Parshas Beha’alosecha – a thought on the first Rashi

“And God said to Moshe, saying: Speak to Aharon and say to him: When you light the lamps toward the face of the Menorah, the seven lamps shall cast their light.”

~ BaMidbar 8:1-2

When you light. Why is the section about the Menorah adjacent to the section about the leaders (of the tribes, who each presented identical gifts at the dedication of the Mishkan)? Because when Aharon saw the leaders’ dedication offerings, he felt faint since he did not join them in the dedication, neither he nor his tribe. The Holy One, Blessed is He, said to him: “By your life, your’s is greater than theirs! For you will light and clean the lamps.”

~ Rashi on BaMidbar 8:2.

We are aware of some of Aharon’s more pronounced failings, such as listening to his sister Miriam speak critically of Moshe and yielding to the people’s desires at Sinai and building a golden calf. What does Rashi’s comment add here?

Rashi’s comment reveals to us that though God selected Aharon for leadership, Aharon was not immune to the all-too-human tendency to compare his circumstances with those of others and to feel anxious if he sensed that he’d been short-changed. How do we reconcile this attribution to Aharon with the verse in Pirke Avot (4:1): Who is rich? He who is happy with his lot (in life), which implies that jealousy or comparing yourself with others is inappropriate behavior?

It may be that Rashi was showing us that Aharon, one of our greatest leaders, also suffered, at times, from conflicted feelings – something to which we can all relate. This is a reminder that Aharon was not perfect but faced challenges similar to our own.

One thing that is distinctive in this case about Aharon, in Rashi’s account (based on Midrash Tanhuma, by the way), is that while Aharon may have grappled with conflicted feelings, he apparently did not voice them aloud or act on them in any way – even as he witnessed the princes bringing their gifts for twelve days. Aharon’s restraint of his emotions, and patience in seeing what God had planned next, is a powerful example for us to consider.

Parshas Naso - thoughts on the first Rashi

"And God spoke to Moshe saying; Take the count of the sons of Gershon as well, according to the house of their fathers according to their families."
~ BaMidbar 4:21-22

Take the count of the sons of Gershon as well. Just as I commanded you (see 4:2) concerning the sons of Kehos, to determine how many have reached the category of those able to work (in the sanctuary).
~ Rashi, on BaMidbar 4:2

What is the point of Rashi's comment? I offer a guess.

We learned earlier (BaMidbar 3:25-38) that when the camp of the children of Israel were prompted to travel, the mishkan (sanctuary) was to be deconstructed by the Levites, who were divided into three groups for the task. The sons of Kehos were to pack up and carry the sacred vessels, the sons of Merori handled all the beams, sockets, and pillars, and the sons of Gershon dealt with the curtains and coverings.

One could see that, in their own estimation, the sons of Gershon might have seen their appointed task as less prestigious than that of the sons of Kehos - handling the fabrics is all well and good, yes, but the holy vessels, that's the big time. As a corrective to this view God instructed that the children of Gershon be counted, just like the sons of Kehos were. The message seems to be that the work of the children of Gershon, and the families themselves, counted just as much.

Something to keep in mind when you are asked to help out with an apparently mundane task in the shul or community. These tasks count just as much in the grand plan.

Parshas BaMidbar - thoughts on the first Rashi

"And God spoke Moshe in the Sinai desert, in the Tent of Meeting, on the first (day) of the second month, in the second year of their exodus from the land of Egypt, saying: Take a head count of the entire congregation of Bnei Yisroel according to their families to the house of their fathers, counting the names of all males individually."
BaMidbar 1:1-2

Rashi comments on the first verse that because the Jewish people are precious to Him, He counts them all the time. Rabbi Avrohom Davis notes that two of the times God counted the Jewish people were only a month apart - on the day the Mishkon (sanctuary) was set up, the first of Nissan, and then again on the first of Iyar. He cites the Gur Aryeh who says that after the Divine Presence had resided among the Jewish people for a month, it was considered a permanent resident so God saw it fit to count the people again.

This Rashi, with its elucidation, brings to mind the moments I will reflect, at the conclusion of Succot, and search myself to assess what impact the chaggim had on me. The high holiday season is only about a month long but if I was focused and fortunate, those four weeks had a distinct impact.

The challenge, I think, is to identify other occasions throughout the year that prompt me to pine for God's presence in my life. And when those occasions conclude, I must take an internal accounting and see if I made good use of these periods.

Parshas Behar-Behukosai: Thoughts on the first Rashi

“And God spoke to Moshe on Mount Sinai, saying: Speak to Bnei Yisrael and say to them, when you come to the land which I give you, the land shall be at rest – a Shabbos for God.”

~ VaYikra, 25:1-2.

On Mount Sinai. What has the matter of the Sabbatical year to do with Mount Sinai? Were not all the commandments stated at Sinai? Rather, this comes to teach that just as shemittah (the Sabbatical years), its general rules, details, and specifications were said at Sinai, so too all the mitzvos including their general rules and specifics.

~ Rashi, on VaYikra, 25:1

Rabbi Avrohom Davis explains, in his footnotes on this Rashi, that it refers to a dispute in the Gemara (Chagigah 6a). Rabbi Yishmoel asserts that only general rules were given at Sinai and the details were presented in the Tent of Meeting. Rabbi Akiva asserts that both the general rules and the specifics were given at Sinai, repeated in the Tent of Meeting, and reiterated on the Plains of Moab. Rashi’s comment shows that he agrees with Rabbi Akiva.

This Talmudic dispute raises a pressing, related question for us: How much detail should a leader present to his/her followers when advancing new policies or actions? There's one school of thought that states that it’s more realistic to let people first absorb new concepts as broad ideas and then follow up with details later, as needed. A contrary approach, however, states that providing new concepts and sufficient (but not overwhelming) detail will help dispel anxiety and uncertainty, allowing for more expeditious actions by the people implementing the new policies.

To be sure, whichever view someone adopts will reflect the nature of the audience, the era, and the policies to be implemented. But it also will reflect heavily on the character of the leader who is weighing both options. And in our parsha at least, the ultimate leader – God – decided clearly that when it came to the mitzvah of letting the land rest for Sabbatical years, the Jewish people needed both principles and details upfront.

Parshas Emor and its first Rashi: Parental imperatives

“And God spoke to Moshe: Speak (Emor) to the Kohanim [priests], the sons of Aharon, and you shall say (VeAmarta) to them, that they shall not defile themselves by coming into contact with a dead person among the people.”

- VaYikra 21:1

Speak to the Kohanim. Speak? And you shall say? The Torah uses this language to warn the adults regarding the minors.

~ Rashi on Vayikra 21:1

 

Rabbi Avrohom Davis, a commentator on Rashi, explains that Rashi’s initial question on this verse is on the repeated use of the verb form ‘to say,’ which is used in other places to indicate details of a general command. Rabbi Davis goes on to state that, in answer to the dilemma he raised, Rashi points to a discussion on this verse in Gemara Yevamos [114a], that concerns a dispute on the level of a parent’s responsibility to keep a child away from impurity. Some say a parent must do whatever they can to keep a child away from impurity while others say a parent is merely obligated to not directly cause the child to become impure. Rashi appears to agree with the latter, less stringent view.

This line of discussion raises, for all Jewishly observant parents in our era, a question of great importance – to what extent are we responsible to steer our children away from actions, attitudes, and ideas that are detrimental to a healthy commitment to a Torah lifestyle?  For Jews living in insular homogeneous communities like Boro Park, Monsey, and Lakewood, the answer may be easier to define and implement – they could say that a parent should shut out all possible sources of negative influence. And thus many people in those communities will severely limit or forbid contact with non-Jewish neighbors and coworkers, use of the Internet, viewing of television, and other forms of contact with the outside world.

For those of us who ascribe to the Modern Orthodox worldview, who see it as not merely an allowance but an obligation to thoughtfully synthesize the best aspects of the broader world with the highest ideals of our Mesorah (heritage), our challenge as parents is arguably much greater and, at the same time, much murkier. How do we teach our children to use the Internet but not become preoccupied with or inured to pornography, immodesty, useless gossip, violence, and other pitfalls of the medium? How do we guide them to form respectful and constructive relationships with college classmates and coworkers, and to even learn from them (when appropriate), while also fully maintaining their fealty to Torah values? What movies and TV shows are, so to speak, kosher and which are certainly treif? And how do we navigate these vexing questions with our children while also building their hashkafic problem-solving skills and their self-esteem?

The questions of how best to interact with the outside world are not easily answered in our own adult lives; applying them as parents is doubly challenging. And yet it is a challenge we must engage in consistently and mindfully.