Parshas Shelach

This week's sidra is Parshas Shelach, meaning "send". This refers to the permission Moshe receives fulfill the peoples' request to send scouts to tour the Land of Israel before the Children of Israel were meant to enter, conquer, and inherit the land. As the story goes, the scouts had ulterior motives, and they actually intended (and succeded) to bring back a slanderous report of the Land, scaring the rest of the Nation, and turning them back to Egypt; for this reason we usually refer to them as "the spies". As a result, the Jewish people received the famous punishment, that they should first wander 40 years in the Desert, waiting for this generation to die out, before their children would enter the Land in their place. One of the more bizarre events in the Torah, it contains many subplots; for example, why did Hashem allow Moshe to send spies, knowing that they would perpetrate a ruse? why would the spies want to return to Egypt, and not enter a land "flowing with milk and honey", after they had already witnessed many miracles, at the Reed Sea, at Mt. Sinai, and more? how did the spies, righteous men whom Moshe selected from amongst the leaders of each tribe, turn so quickly to deception? To answer these questions, we first must understand the state in which the Jewish people found themselves at this moment, less than two years after leaving Egypt and receiving the Torah. During this time, in which the Jews camped in the Desert, all of their material needs were miraculously taken care of: they ate "manna" which came down from Heaven every morning in the dew and tasted like whatever they had in their imaginations, their clothes grew along with them and never needed mending, when they needed water Moshe would simply strike a rock and bring out a stream, and the list goes on. However, when they eventually would arrive in Eretz Yisrael, they had many commandments (mitzvahs) from the Torah involving the working of the land, business transactions, and more, generally requiring them to participate in day-to-day life, more or less as we understand it now. Therefore, the spies did not truly intend to take the people back to the land of Egypt, but rather, they wished to stay in the desert, where they could lead a completely spiritual life, and not worry about the material world. Because they were such holy men to begin with, they could not imagine themselves coming down to the simple level of working the land. However, this story teaches us that the Torah intends just the opposite; not that we should find ourselves a spiritual refuge and remain there isolated, but rather that we should embrace the world, with the Torah as our guide. Finally, this also explains why Moshe was "allowed" to send the spies; which means specifically that he received no command to send them, but rather the free choice to acquiesce to their request. Since the ultimate desire was that the the Jewish people should enter the Land enthusiastically, with out the need of any scouts at all, however well-intentioned, but rather simply because of the promise they were given upon leaving Egypt, they they would receive a "Good Land, and Land flowing with Milk and Honey."

Parshas BeHa'alosecha

Now on to the weekly sidra, Parshas BeHa'alosecha, which literally means "in your rising up", but here in the Torah poetically describes the daily lighting of the Menorah in the Temple, to be performed (preferably) by the Aharon, and his successors to the position of Kohein Gadol (High Priest). While we can learn a great deal (from a very small portion, only three verses) from the topic of the lighting of the Menorah itself, I would like to focus on another very famous verse from this week's parsha which reads, "Now this man Moses was exceedingly humble, more so than any person on the face of the earth." When it comes to the trait of humility, many people mistakenly confuse humility with lowliness or even (less often) pitifulness or self-denigration. In truth, however, humility does not involve focusing on one's negative traits, but rather depends on how one views the positive traits that one DOES possess. Therefore, the first step to humility really begins when we recognize our strengths, and at this point, in general, we can view the strengths in three different ways. First, we could say that we have certain G-d given talents, that we have tried to make the best of, and maybe somebody else could have done even better than we have with those talents, so we really have no reason to feel so proud, or haughty, about these things. Second, and more humbly, we could say that while we truly have these talents, we never really did anything to actualize them, in fact we've done a lot to just let them waste away, and so with out any doubt another would have done much more with them than we did, so we should actually feel very thankful for all the success we have had with these talents. The third, and the highest level, of humility does not depend on how we view ourselves, but rather on what we do; to "perform" humility, so to speak. For example, it is said, about Hashem, "that where you find his greatness, you find his humility". We can understand this by looking at the case of a teacher and a student: although the teacher may possess great wisdom, far greater than the student, if he can not impart any of that wisdom to the student, than we should not really call him a "great" teacher. On the other hand, when the teacher takes his profound wisdom and makes it very simple, so that the student should understand, now we would call him a "great" teacher; because he "humbled" himself to see things from the perspective of the lowly student, instead of remaining in the lofty world of his own understanding. Unlike the first two types of humility, which require a great deal of introspection (and are, of course, also very meaningful), this third level in humility simply means sharing our talents, or advantages (material, spiritual, intellectual, etc), with those around us; sharing in the most literal sense of the word, that it should become accessible also to the recipient. When we do this we become more like Moses our Great Teacher, and in his merit, Hashem will surely bless us and come down, in his great humility, from his "lofty abode" to share with us happiness, health, and success.

Parshas BaMidbar

In this week's sidra, Parshas BaMidbar, we begin a new book, the Book of BaMidbar (literally, "in the desert"), also known as the Book of Numbers. Interestingly, the anglicized name for this book actually has a source in rabbinic literature, as the rabbis of the Talmud often referred to it by this name, because this book contains a great deal of accounting, so to speak. The first parsha alone, this week, includes a national census, the allocation of Camps among the 12 Tribes, marching orders (for their travels "in the desert"), and duties within the Temple for the Levites and Cohanim. To understand, therefore, this Book of Numbers, we must understand what the concept of counting means to us, especially since we find ourselves now in the middle of counting the Omer (as mentioned above). On a simple level, when we count things, we do two things: first, we assert the existence of each member of the count (i.e. as 1 amongst X), and second, we connect the individual with a group, or one could even say, define the individual by his place in the group. For example, if we have a whole pile of fruits on the table in front of us, we could decide to count big fruits, or small fruits, or red fruits, etc. and by doing so we would be "bringing out", so to speak, a certain characteristic of those fruits. In the Torah, when the Jewish people are counted, they are counted without distinctions: 1 Jew, 1/2 shekel (the manner of counting was to take a token from each family). Therefore, in this count, the Torah means to bring out the essential nature of each member of the count; simply by existing as themselves they become worthy of inclusion, the poor beggar, and even the sinner, equally with the great Torah scholar. On a personal level, as we make our way from the miracles of Pesach, when G-d Almighty took the Jews out of Egypt with great miracles, to the upcoming holiday of Shavuot, commemorating the giving of the Torah at Mt. Sinai, when the Heavens descended to Earth, and the Earth went up to Heaven, the Torah commands that we to should count, within ourselves. Just like the general counting written about in this week's portion, we should intend with our personal (ac)counting to bring out the essential aspects of our personalities. For each part of our souls Hashem should help us to grow and move forward in all respects, both as individuals, and as members of a larger community. In this way, we should merit to once agin "receive the Torah", connecting the actual and the potential, just like the Heavens and the Earth connected at Mt. Sinai, and bringing the world to a higher plane of existence.

Hag HaShavuot

Tomorrow (and also Saturday, shabbos, outside of Israel) we celebrate the holiday of Shavuot, the festival of Weeks, which commemorates the giving of the Torah at Mt. Sinai, and comes exactly 50 days (7 Weeks of 7 Days) after Pesach; the days we have been counting during the process of the Sefirat (counting) Ha'Omer. Every year, there is a tradition that on the evening of Shavuot (this evening) communities gather together in their synagogues and stay up the whole night learning Torah and then pray the morning holiday service at sunrise. Here in Yerushalayim the entire city will stream to the Kotel (the Western Wall) at the break of dawn. The reason for this custom goes back to the first year in the Desert, when the Jews received the Torah, the story goes that they actually slept-in that morning, and Hashem had to come wake them up (with coffee, toast and eggs of course)! The Midrash (a collection of stories and laws from the Oral Tradition) explains that the "sleep of Shavuos is sweet and the night is short", and additionally the fleas did not bit them that night. However, this answer is not quite satisfying. After Israel left Egypt, Moshe told them that in 50 days they would receive the Torah, and out of their great excitement, the took it upon themselves to count down the days, like a young child waiting to receive a present. If they already had such great excitement 50 days prior, than how much more so on the night before the Giving of the Torah, and as such, how could they possibly sleep through such a highly anticipated event? The air of preparation that surrounded the Jews then, and continues to surround us now during this time of the year, therefore leads us to the conclusion that somehow this "nap" really meant to heighten their preparation even further. We can see further proof also in the miracle that occurred that night: the fleas did not bite! Their actions (or lack their of) could not have run totally contrary to the intent of the moment if nature changed on their behalf. So, we must now ask the question of how did this sleep actually help them prepare to receive the Torah?
One answer, given by the Alter Rebbe, Rabbi Shneur Zalman of Liadi, the first Rebbe of ChaBaD, explains that since spirituality and physicality for the most part do not interact, for the soul to participate in a spiritual event, like the Giving of the Torah, while connected to a physical body may prove quite difficult. However, when a person sleeps, most of his soul leaves his body and returns to the spiritual realms in order to get its own rest. Therefore, by sleeping the Jewish people thought maybe they could connect on a deeper and more profound level during this important moment. Despite their good intentions, the plan did not succeed and they had to awaken before the Giving of the Torah. Because Torah speaks about matters of the world (which foods to eat, relations between husband and wife, business practices, legal principles, etc.) the primary intention becomes fulfilled specifically in the world, through thought, speech and deed, and not through spiritual highs. For example, the most important moments in Judaism have always revolved around basic "milestone events" in people's lives; the birth of a child (and his bris, if it is a boy), coming of age (bar or bat mitzvah), marriage, holidays, etc. and not around life-changing spiritual experiences. Practice such as prayer and study serve as the foundation that allows us to appreciate all these other aspects of our lives and to take true joy in them. Therefore the true intention of the Giving of the Torah specifically required that the Jews "keep their souls in their bodies", so to speak, in order that they could fulfill its precepts and transform the world, instead of leaving it.
Every year the events commemorated by the festivals happen again, if only in a spiritual manner, and therefore this year as well the Jewish people and the whole World will receive the Torah, and along with it, the ability to transform the world through increasing in education, tzedakah and good deeds.
With the traditional blessing, To receive the Torah with Joy and in a personally meaningful way.
Hag Sameach and Shabbat Shalom.

Slichus in Kazakhstan, Part III

Since it has now been a more than a month since I returned from Kazakhstan, and several weeks since I updated this story, I would like to give a disclaimer that the following story may be missing some details...
The next morning, the 13th of Nissan, after davening and a short breakfast, we headed over to the Chesed (local jewish community) center at 9 AM. There, we made a had to casher a few large pots, one which we would then use to kasher all the other utensils. This we accomplished with a blow torch. The process requires that the metal should reach a heat that if one put a piece of straw on the metal at that moment, in would singe and burn. For these utenstils (a couple of pots, some knives, and some other kitchen items), it meant passing the flame over the a spot several times for a few seconds, and covering the whole surface like this inside, outside, and on the bottom as well. After that, we had to casher the cook top. This means cleaning the actual top of the stove, covering it with tin foil, and then bringing all of the burner components (including the grate) to a very high level of heat. For most of them, we can achieve this just be running the flame on high for an space of time, however, the grates need to have the heat directly applied, and this we also did with the blowtorch. Because, however, the grates come into contact with food when they are red hot (from the gas flame), therefore to casher one must also get them red hot. This mean holding the blowtorch over a section of the burner for several minutes. Eventually I recognized that when the enamel covering began to melt away, that we had reached the desired temperatures. This took nearly a full hour to do two grates (covering 4 burners). At this point we reassembled the stove, put a large pot full of water on and boiled it. This achieved two purposes: (1) to casher the burner components (as mentioned above), (2) we would use the boiling water to casher the eating utensils (forks, knives, and spoons), which only touch food which has already been removed from the fire, and therefore require less heat to casher. During all of this time we were covering up the various surfaces in the kitchen and also koshering the metal sink with the blow torch. We even used the cashering method known as "pouring" where we pour boiling water on a surface and then pass the flame over the water; this is effective for countertops and the like. Because of the stringencies assosciated with Passover, we even had to cover to surfaces that we cashered. Between various other errands, involved with shopping and planning the seder, this day was also very busy and we went home exhausted around 6 PM.
The night of the 14th of Nissan (the night before Erev Pesach) we perform the important mitzvah of bedikas hometz, or searching for the hometz (anything leavened is called "hometz" in hebrew). This meant first cleaning our apartment, and then, according to the ChaBaD custom, hiding ten small pieces of hametz (corresponding to the ten faculties of the soul) around the house, and then looking for them by candle light. When we "find" some hometz, we sweep it into a paper bag with a feather, and after we have found all ten, we wrap the bag (with the hometz inside) and the feather around the wooden spoon. Then we put this aside until the following morning when we will burn this hometz, and sell all the rest we have in our possesion, completing the purging of all our hometz. The night was spent going over the order of the Pesach seder.
The activities involving our hometz occupied us until around 11 the next morning, and in the meantime the members of Chesed began cooking their meal. This went on with little drama, except that one of the women decided to bring her own knife to gut the fish, which unfortunately led to the tossing out of one non-kosher fish. We put up our two chickens (that we brought from Almaty, where the butcher is) to boil; this would be all our food for the next 4 days; and then left the rest of the staff there to do their own work preparing for the meal, with our supervision. Around 5 o'clock or so we headed back to the marketplace to pick up some last minute items for the seder (matzah bags, etc), and then back our flat to prepare for the seder. However, for a moment things appeared in risk because someone had parked us in at the market. Sunset was approaching, so I quickly pulled out my Book of Tehillim (psalms) and said a few chapters, and right behind us the owner of this car that had parked us in showed up and let us out. After a showering, changing, and davening mincha, we headed over to the restaurant arund 6:30 matzas, wine, chicken, and the rest of our seder plate ingrediants, in hand. [These ingredients were: hard-boiled eggs, roasted chicken necks, chrain (horseradish, one of the ladies as G-d's providence would have it, grew just enough in her garden for me and Nachman!), lettuce leaves, and charoset (apples and nuts, no wine in ChaBaD custom)] Before I left the apartment, I realized that had drunken almost no water in the previous two days, and that I felt a bit lightheaded. I chugged a liter of water and then headed off.
When we arrived at the restaurant, we checked out the scene: the children were preparing to perform a play that they had staged for the event, but Nachman had to explain to them that they could not use a CD player, because the holiday was starting and holidays are just like shabbos. The play was not very modest and so I stayed in the back trying to review a little bit before the seder, however, I could not concentrate and my head was starting to throb. A young boy from London who grew up in Almaty and Teraz (the grandson of the old Yiddishe lady, who wanted to slaughter a sheep in honor of the Pesach offering, even as we explained the difficulties in kosher slaughter, etc), came and spoke to us for a little while; he pointed out that my face as very pale. A journalist came to interview us and Nachman, did most of the talking, I said I came from Brooklyn, I think that it was they wanted to hear... After sunset we davened Maariv (evening prayers), and as I went outside to set up, the 50 or so guests began to applaud. At this point, I realized that me and then had very different expectations of what this seder would be, and this made me quite nervous. Even object I put on the seder plate was like a new character entering the stage, required more applause. The staff told us that they were having trouble pouring the grape juice for everybody and that would need to stall abit, although it was already approaching 9 o'clock, and the guests were hungry. Nachman and I tried to give an introduction to the seder, and explain that we may not eat for another hour; this elicited grumbles and my head continued to swirl. Next I made kiddush, hoping that the wine would calm me down abit, but as the seder progressed and moved in the section known as "Maggid", the "Telling" (where we read the story...) I suddenly felt very ill and ran to the bathroom. The toilets there were glorified holes in the ground (although thankfully clean) and I vomited up the entire liter of water that I drank earlier and the first (of four) glass of wine. I threw some cold water on my face, and returned to the seder, by which point many of the guests had already left. I whispered to Nachman, "Dude, I just threw up in the bathroom." "No way man!" I sat down at the table and tried to catch up, while Nachman took charge and led the dwindling crowd threw the seder. When it came time to eat the matzah, I was very pained, and it took me nearly 20 minutes to each one piece, not to mention the morror and the afikomen. For the "meal" I took one bite of my egg, and then tried to finish the rest of the seder as quickly as I can. This mean blessing the meal, singing praises, and drinking two cups of wine. At this point, maybe only 10 guests remained; three of them, the old lady, her son, and her grandson, offered words of incouragement: "Nobody here knows what a seder is supposed to be anyway", "We're sticking with you to the end". It was very inspiring, a little like shtetl Rocky. When I did managed to finish, I quickly gathered up my belongings and crawled over to Nachman to ask him to take me home. He told me he couldn't because he had to deal with the guests, and I got very mad at him and started calling him self-centered. Finally, I had him grab Vlad (our driver) for me to take me back, which he did very graciously. A chugged some water and passed out.
The next morning I felt much better, but most of the day I spent in bed, except for the obligitory holiday prayers and meal. Boruch Hashem, by the time of the second seder I was feeling much better, and I showed up at the Chesed center in considerably higher spirits. This seder went very smooth for me and Nachman and I did a lot of teaching to the smaller crowd. We sang some songs and generally had a freilich (joyful) evening. I think that the second night of seder is my favorite of the whole year (it also happens the first time I walked into a ChaBaD house). When this night was over, we went home to sleep and relax a bit after our hard work.
To be continued...

Parshas BeHar-BeChukosai

This week's Torah portion is again a double sidra, parshas Be'Har-Be'Chukosai, and the last in the book of Vayikra (Leviticus), the third book in the Torah of Moshe. The word Be'Har, literally means "on the mountain" and refers to the instructions which Moshe received on Mt. Sinai, specifically here the laws of agricultural cycles. The Torah instructs that in the land of Israel once every 7 years should be a "shabbos", a year of rest, for the land where nothing is sown or harvested (known as "shimtta", we just had one this past year), and once every 50 years is known as jubilee. The jubilee is similar to shimtta, except that additionally all sold lands are returned to their original owner (as established by laws of inheritance from when the Jews first entered the land of Israel after the 40 years in the desert), and all slaves are freed. Be'Chukosai literally means "in my statues" and begins a long list of rewards and punishments (more of the later, unfortunately, G-d should protect us!) that come as a result of observance or disobedience of the said "statutes". Since generally in ChaBaD we like to focus on the positive, I would like to share something on the former sidra, Parshas Be'Har, regarding the laws of slaves, about which it is written that we may not treat a jewish slave in an oppressive manner, however, we may burden a "canaannite" slave with backbreaking labor (this slave comes from one of the 7 nations that inhabited Israel before the exodus from Egypt). Although the Torah permits such behavior, the Rambam, Maimonides, the illustrious codifier of Jewish law, teaches that it is "the Trait of Kindness and the Way of Wisdom" to treat even the canaanite slave as an equal, and that the great sages would feed their animals and their slaves before they themselves ate. He explains the logical reason that one's property should not be damaged (i.e. a sick slave) and that the slave should not flee, however, if this logic held so strongly, and the Way of Wisdom so clear, than seemingly the Rambam would not have to explain also that such behavior represents a Trait of Kindness. Therefore, we learn from this that primarily this behavior comes from kindness, and that the monetary benefit only adds to the incentive. Furthermore, because the Rambam here compares this treatment of slaves to the treatment of animals, we can say that just as feeding one's animal before oneself defies logic, so does feeding one's slave; and in fact a master would have good reason NOT to treat his slave in this manner, so that he will not become accustomed to such comforts and shirk his responsibilities as a slave. So, we must certainly say that this halacha, this law, which the Rambam brings, primarily relies on this Trait of Kindness, and not the Way of Wisdom. As regards this Trait of Kindness, the Rambam continues, and explains that such behavior first appeared in the world by Abraham, our Father, who achieved fame for his great hospitality, even bringing in guests out of the desert to share his Pesach meal WHILE recovering from his bris at the ripe age of 99! In our case, however, this kindness inherited from Abraham, does not even suffice, as the Rambam continues to explain two further reasons for acting with mercy: (1) Torah demands that a man act with such mercy, (2) Hashem commands that we should imitate his traits, just as He is exceedingly kind and merciful, so should we be. Therefore, the kindness expected from us here does not refer to a simple human kindness, that taught to us by Abraham (which often depends on whether the recipient is deserving of such), but rather a much higher, divine level of kindness, one with no limitations, that of the Torah and the Holy One Blessed be He! Since before G-d all stand equally, both those deserving of mercy and those seemingly not, his kindness truly knows no bounds, and with the power of the Torah, we too can act with such a level of kindness and mercy. Still, we must explain, why does the Rambam teach us this concept with regard to slaves? Simply put, compared to Hashem, all humans are likes slaves (I've included a chapter from the Book of Psalms which relates to this concept), and nevertheless we are taught that everything Hashem expects from us He Himself fulfills, and therefore we should all know that even when we find ourselves in a very low place (about canaanite slaves it is written that "they prefer loose women"), Hashem always acts towards us with abundant mercy, even "feeding" us first from his dinner plate, so to speak, in order that we should have the strength to move on and continue to grow in Torah, and in tzedakah a good deeds. I appreciate everyone for reading this week's slightly longer email, and I would like to give us all a blessing, in the merit of Rabbi Shimon bar Yochai, that Hashem's limitless kindness should be revealed in all of our lives in very open ways!

Psalm 123
1. A song of ascents. To You have I lifted my eyes, You Who are enthroned in heaven. 2. Indeed, as the eyes of servants are turned to the hand of their masters, as the eyes of a maid to the hand of her mistress, so are our eyes turned to the Lord our God, until He will be gracious to us. 3. Be gracious to us, Lord, be gracious to us, for we have been surfeited with humiliation. 4. Our soul has been overfilled with the derision of the complacent, with the scorn of the arrogant.

Parshas Emor

This week's sidra is Parshas Emor, which literally means "speak", and comes from the first verse which reads "And the Lord said to Moses: Speak to the kohanim, the sons of Aaron, and say to them: Let none [of you] defile himself for a dead person among his people." This begins the enumeration of a series of laws regarding the maintaining of the purity of the kohanim, the priests, specifically with regard to mourning practices, permitted and forbidden marriages, and the requirement that no physically deformed kohain (i.e. disproportional limbs, cleft-lip, deaf, blind, etc.) may serve in the Temple. The parsha also includes a recap of the three major pilgrimage festivals: Pesach, Shavuot (coming up in just a few weeks), and Rosh Hashana-Yom Kippur-Succoth.
Among the commandments given regarding the kohanim in this sidra, they are split into two broad categories: commandments that Moshe should give to the kohanim that they should teach their children (in other words, that they must keep for themselves), and those that Moshe should give to the general community that they should impose upon the kohanim, even by force if necessary. Specifically, Hashem made the kohanim responsible for keeping the morning practices and the laws of permitted/forbidden marriages, while the Beit Din (the High Court) had the responsibility to ensure that only kosher kohanim (those without any physical blemish) served in the Temple. Since the destruction of the Temple these laws entrusted to the High Court no longer factor in the life of a kohan, however, still to this day a kohan may not enter a cemetary and may not marry, for example, a divorcee. Therefore, we see that those laws entrusted to the kohanim to keep for themselves, still hold in effect today, while those given the High Court no longer do.
In general, these two categories of laws for the kohanim, correspond to two aspects of the the kohan: (1) The essential and simple holiness (or separateness) of the kohan that he takes as an inheritance from his father and which he will keep for himself and his children; and (2) the kohan's duty to serve in the Temple, which depends both on the existence of the Temple, and the guidance of the rest of the nation of Israel. Now we can understand why the laws given to the kohanim themselves (re: mourning and marriage) still hold in effect today. Since these laws relate to the essential being of the kohan (as opposed to the service of the kohan) he can continue to keep them, even when the Temple does not stand. The second aspect of the kohan, however, that of his service in the Temple, depends on external factors, even to the point that it can seemingly become obsolete.
On a personal level we can also take instruction from this portion in the Torah. The Rebbe teaches that each person has a personal temple inside of him in which he must serve as the High Priest. Therefore, in each person's soul he also posses these two aspects: (1) as essential aspect that cannot be nullified, and (2) an external, or superficial, aspect which depends on circumstances. Even if his or her personal Temple lays in ruins, we must all know that essentially we still retain our unique, G-d given holiness and that we always have the power to move from strength to strength despite any obstacles that may appear to stand in our way. I would like to give us all a blessing that we should always be aware of this inner strength we have and that we should continue to grow and increase in tzedakah and good deeds, as we move towards a more perfect world.

Parshas Acharei Mot-Kedoshim

This week's sidra is again a combined portion (this accommodates the system of leap and simple years on the calendar), Parshas Acharei Mot-Kedoshim, taken from the first verse of each respective parsha. Achrei Mot (literally "after the death") refers to the death of Aharon's sons Nadav and Avihu (which we encountered a few weeks ago), who were killed for bringing "foreign" incense onto the alter, while intoxicated from wine, and the portion deals primarily with the instructions for the Yom Kippur service to be carried out in the Temple by the High Priest, Aharon. Kedoshim literally means "sanctified" and refers to the House of Israel, who Hashem tells, "You shall be sanctified, because I the Lord your G-d am sanctified". This portion contains a list of dozens of mitzvahs (commandments) relating to prohibitions against idolatry, charity, Shabbos, sexual morality and more. It also includes one of the most famous commandments in all the Torah, "To love your fellow as yourself". The great sage Rabbi Akiva called this mitzvah a cardinal principle of the Torah, and Rabbi Hillel the Elder said it encompasses the entire Torah and the rest is only explanation. What is very puzzling, however, is that there is also a mitzvah to hate your fellow if you find him sinning. How can these two seemingly conflicting commandments exist side by side? One explanation brings out the specifics of this instruction, which require that he should be your "fellow" in the way of Torah and Mitzvot; in other words, that he lives similarly to you in terms of education and practice. Furthermore, there is another mitzvah in this parsha which commands that if you see your fellow sinning, you will "surely rebuke him". Only once you have rebuked (your fellow) and he still did not return from his wayward path, then you are commanded to hate him. However, if you have not fulfilled the conditions mentioned above, then you can not hate him, and should still perform the separate mitzvah of loving him as yourself. Furthermore, even when the commandment to hate does apply, our commandment here, to love him, continues to apply as well, at the same time! He should hate him for that which he does not do properly, and love him for the spark of G-dliness and goodness which resides in every human being, even though it may be hidden. At this point he can arouse compassion and mercy for this spark of good that has, so to speak, been taken captive by that which opposes it, and this compassion will destroy the hatred and awaken the love; which we learn this from the teachings of kabbala, regarding the three primary emotional traits: kindness, severity and mercy (a combination of the first two, "learning" towards kindness).

Shlicus in Kazakhstan Part II

We last left off on the way to the train station, however, that was not the only thing that was left on the way to the train station, but rather our matzos were also left! Thank G-d, we got to the station early, bribed the customs guard to get our 30 kilos of frozen chicken on the train, and the shliach was able to run the matzos over just before the train left. After finding our cabin (sleepers with two sets of bunks) we decided to take the next empty one over because it looked like our cabin mates would be two Kazakhis drinking beer. Unfortunately, we were now occupying the cabin of a general in the army, and when he arrived on the scene we were forced into our ticketed accommodations. Nachman and myself, hassidim and shluchim of the Rebbe, of course did not let this deter us, and we proceed to befriend our new cabin mates. Shim-Chan (like Genghis-Chan) spoke about the One G-d that every body shares, and Dmitri said that before he met us he supported the Palestinians, but now he supports Israel. We even told them about the Rebbe, and the great love he has for all of G-d's Creation. Eventually, they decided they were hungry, and brought out a roast chicken, which they proceeded to devour directly on the cabin table. After persistent efforts to share their food with us, Nachman and I decided to bring out our own chicken, so we would at least share in the eating experience. At this point, Shim-Chan decided he wanted some of our chicken, and began trying to grab at it. To placate him, I tossed him a piece of white-meat, but my lack of accustomization to Kazakhi custom foiled me again and this ended up upsetting him very much. He started to complain, "Why do you treat me like a dog? You Americans always think you are better than everybody else!" Nachman took the next two hours until we went to bed calming them down and rationing them the mashka (vodka) that we had with us to say l'chaim for the Rebbe's birthday that happened to be that night. Boruch Hashem, Nachman took control of the situation and impressed me very much. The rest of the night, the cabin smelled like drunken Kazakhi, and in the morning we arrived in Teraz.
At the station two locals were waiting for our arrival, Vlad and Victor, who the local Chesed (Jewish Community) Center had sent for us. Victor drove us into town, while Nachman chatted with Vlad and I checked out the scenery. Vlad, it turns out has a Jewish grandfather and feels very connected to the tradition, as we could see from his involvement with Chesed. Once we arrived at the Chesed center we davened Shacharit (morning prayers) and Nachman acquainted himself with the staff. I checked out the kitchen: two stoves, and fridge, a counter, typical stuff; a few pots and pans and a load of silver ware. We began to evaluate the situation, and it became clear that Chesed did not know what to expect (we were the first bochurim ever sent there), and all they had for us was a roll of tinfoil and blow torch. When we explained what might be involved to casher the kitchen (another roll or two of tinfoil, and maybe some sheets of plastic), the treasurer began to cry. Eventually we calmed them down and Vlad and Victor took us to our flat nearby. Later in the day we returned to the Chesed center and began to take care of some small details in the casherut: covering tables and counters, lining the fridge so we could put the 30 kilos of frozen chicken away, setting aside that which we could casher and that which should be put away for the holiday, etc. and then we went to the market to by some new pots, etc. so that we could make food for ourselves. We took these to the local river, the river Telas, about 1/2 strength of the Northern Connecticut River, to toivel (ritually immerse) them, and conveniently found a set of stairs leading down to the river, which Nachman commented, "were created just for this mitzvah!" Then we went past the restaurant where the seder's would be held in town. Hashem gave us a very big blessing, because the room where we made the saders was new, with new furniture, and they were putting on new tablecloths and opening up new chairs, all of this made concerns about kashrus (particularly hametz, or leavening, on Pesach) very minimal. I commented that "the Rebbe was opening doors for us". At that point we were finished for the day and were very tired from our trip, so we went back to the flat and reviewed the halochos of cashering in preperation for the next day, the 13th of Nissan, when we would casher the whole kitchen. To be continued...

Parshas Tazria-Metzora

Since it's been a few weeks, I'll try to fill ourselves in on the past two parshas, Tzav and Shimini, which continued describing the various sacrificial services in the Temple, and then bore testimony to the actual construction of the Tabernacle in the Wilderness, which Moshe put-up and took-down for seven consecutive days before setting it up permanently on the 8th day (which is the meaning of the word Shmini). During this "inauguration period" Moshe was serving as the priest in the Tabernacle, however, after the 8th day he anointed Aharon and his sons to the priesthood. The Torah then tells the story of Nadav and Avihu, two of Aharon's sons, who brought a voluntary incense offering while intoxicated from wine, and their souls were subsequently "incinerated" from their bodies. The period of mourning that followed brought about some difficult halachic (legal) questions before Moshe and Aharon. After the instillation of the priesthood, the Torah must now describe laws of ritual purity, because the priests can only serve in the Temple when they are ritually clean. Therefore, the Torah begins to describe the clean and unclean foods, on land, in the sea, and in the air, and how they can affect vessels; and this completes parsha Shmini.

This weeks parsha is a combined sidra, Tazria-Metzora, and continues to teach on ritual impurity, beginning with the "time of separation" required after a woman gives birth; which is the meaning of the word "tazria", "she will conceive"; and describes the offerings she must bring to regain her purity, and become again permissible to her husband (who himself will become impure by sleeping with her, and therefore be unable to enter the Temple, or serve if he is a priest). The main body of the parsha describes different types of skin outbreaks, "metzora", which is generally translated as "leprosy". In truth, however, metzora does not exist now, and was a miraculous disease that would strike those who could not control their tongues, and would speak gossip, or worse. Once diagnosed with the affliction, which a priest must do (not a doctor), the victim would have to reside outside of the city in quarantine for 1 week at a time, until the outbreak dissipated; at which point they would be required to bring offerings and immerse in a ritual pool (mikveh). Metzora can also strike one's house, clothing, or vessels, so be careful! In fact, there was an order of events in which first his curtains would be affected, and then his vessels, and then his house, and then his skin. Even after the breakout, he would be given time to empty his house, and then he would need to show the metzora to a priest, who would then declare him clean or unclean. Therefore, in all this time he would have many opportunities to repent from his slanderous ways, and therefore the metzora disease is seen as a example of G-d's great mercy. In fact, in rabbinic and chassidic literature, the metzora actually represents a very holy status. For example, in the Talmud it is written that King Moshiach, the future redeemer of Israel, will be called "The Leper". This poses many questions, because it contradicts almost all other descriptions of Mashiach, who is referred to as a "comforter", and the one who will "remove the spirit of impurity from the face of the earth"; and most importantly, he will usher in the Messianic era, characterized by the resurrection of the dead, the building of the third Temple in Jerusalem, and the open revelation of G-d's existence that will even surpass that at Mt. Sinai. Therefore, how can he possible be a "leper", and requiring of quarantine? To answer this, we first must understand a bit deeper the concept of metzora (leprosy) in the Torah. In the verses of the Torah, it is written that this disease will appear on the "skin of his flesh"; in other words, the outermost layer of a human being. While this describes the literal trait of metzora, it also symbolically represents the place in the person's soul which bears the blemish of metzora, caused by his loose tongue; in other words, it is the most external aspect of his soul, the most superficial. Therefore, we say that metzora can really only strike somebody who has refined themselves so thoroughly that only these very superficial aspects of their soul and personality are left to mend, and the the essential aspects of Thought, Speech, and Deed have already been fine-tuned to their perfection. Since right now, the world still struggles to perfect itself in these areas, now we see no metzora; until the Days of Moshiach, when he will come to refine this last most superficial layer. May it be very soon indeed! On a more practical level, however, here today, we have the responsibility of refining those internal aspects and preparing the stage for Moshiach, which we do through Torah and Mitzvot, tzedakah and good deeds, by which we take physical objects, such as metal coins, and turn them into vessels for G-d's infinite light. By bringing holiness into the gross matter of the world, eventually we will reach the "skin of the flesh", and merit to once again see the outbreak of metzora, in Moshiach Tzidikenu.

Slichus In Kazakhstan, Part I

The slichus began when Rabbi Wichinin asked me if I might like to do Merkos Shlichus in Belarus. I agreed, and the next morning he informed me that we would go to Kazakhstan. I did not have any more information until the day before our trip, that we would be leaving at 10 in the morning. I swung down to the Malchei Yisrael and up to the Shuk to grab some last minute preparations, and the next morning we were off to Almaty, Kazakhstan by way of Moscow Domodedovo. About 18 hours about we left Mayanot yeshiva, myself, Shimon Susskind, Alex Rubin, and Nachman found ourselves the the land of Borat (high five!). We warded off taxi drivers for about 20 minutes until our host shliach, Shevach, arrived with two other russian-speaking bochurim from Migdal Emek (Elchanan and Daniel), and his son Dan. As the sun rose over the airport, we observed the street sweepers, who were using sheathes of hay, and the made our way into the city. The first impression of Almaty is the large cement apartment blocks, either from the Soviet era or directly after the fall, and the open drainage that lines all of the streets clogs and floods whenever it rains (which is often). The city sits at the base of a very large mountain range, some of the largest I have seen, and on a clear day, like the day of our arrival, they make for a very pleasant site. Shevach brought us first to the mikvah at the local schul, and then to the school which he operates in Almaty, where we stayed. The school is really an entire complex, covering half of a city block, with gates and 24-hour security, as well as a fleet of drivers (mostly for the school buses). Inside the school, a large staff cooks and otherwise maintains the grounds. Because the semester was ending, very few kids were there (in addition, the recession has affected their funding, reducing the number of students), but we did get to spend some time with the orphans that stay there. While I do not speak russian, kids always have a way of communicating, either by sports or games, or even just laughing at your inability to speak their language. We spent a couple days there getting settled and receiving our "assignments", met the other sliach at the school, Reb Zev. We went up to the mountains for a bit to see the skating rink and the avalanche dam, and then passed shabbos. On the first day of the week, we did some hands on review on cashering a kitchen (at the school), and then after noon the hevrusas began to leave for their respective cites. Nachman and I were assigned to Taraz, Kazakhstan, and our train left at night. We would take with us a 30 kilo bag of frozen chickens, two boxes of matza, five bottles of wine, and would have to casher a kitchen in preparation for the seder on Wednesday night. To be continued...

Parshas VaYikra

This week's sidra is Parshas VaYikra, the first of the 3rd book of the Pentateuach, otherwise known as Leviticus. VaYikra means, "And he called", refering to G-d's communication with Moshe from between the Cherubim who adorned the Cover for the Ark of Testimony. This Parsha almost exclusively concerns itself with the laws of the various temple sacrficies, ranging from voluntary "elevation" offerings, to several types of sin offerings, including both animal and meal (i.e. cake) sacrifices. This sets the tone for the entire book, the most technical of the 5 Books of Moses, centering around laws of the Tabernacle. This may explain why the book begins with a conjunction, "And", in order to connect it to the end of the second book, the Book of Shemos, with concluded with the construction of the Tabernacle. Shemos also began with the same conjuction, which we explained connects it to the first book, the Book of Bereishis, which describes the Creation of the world. Therefore, one could say that the Torah also means to make an essential connection between the Creation (and its purpose and fulfillment) and the performances of the services in the Tabernacle.
The obvious question to be asked is, of course, what makes these sacrifical offerings so important, as to actually fulfiill the intent of the entire Creation? To understand this, first we should explain the concept of the animal sacrifice itself, which was first brought by infamous brothers Kain and Able. The Torah tells us that Kain brought "some fruits of the land", while Able brought "from the firstborn, from the choicest", and that G-d "turned" to Able's, but not to Kains. This instigated Kain's anger, leading to the murder of his brother (also a first). The lesson here is clear, that, at least with regards to animal sacrifices, G-d desires the best.
To understand this more clearly we can preface with a teaching on the mitzvah of tzedakah (often translated as charity, it literally means "righteousness"): It is said that the mitzvah of tzedakah is equal to all the other mitzvas in the Torah (for Jews and Gentiles), because while other mitzvahs only use one part of the body (for example tefillin are placed on the arm and head), when somebody works to earn money and then gives away the sweat of his brow for the sake of no reward, he is, so to speak, giving away a part of his whole body and being with which he toiled. Similarly, when Able took his choice flock and placed them on an altar for consumption in fire, he was giving away a part of himself. This further explains why today the practice of giving tzedakah has replaced the animal sacrifices in gaining atonement for sins.
This also can explain one of the more perplexing verses in our parsha, which describes the offerings as "a pleasant aroma before G-d". The actual aroma would have been quite foul, and, furthermore, what does it mean to say that G-d "enjoys" the physical aroma of anything in this world? Rashi, the authoritative 11th century commentator, therefore explains that the verse more acurately means "a spirit of contentment, that I spoke and My Will was carried out". In other words, the practice of animal sacrifices represents the ultimate stage in man's "service" of the divine; that he should do something that completely denies logic, and which actually causes him physical (monetary) damage simply because G-d Almighty desires it. The Torah further emphasizes this by placing the voluntary sacrifices ahead of the obligitory sacrfices (which seemingly have a purpose, in terms of repentance), and therefore closer to the Book of Bereishis, and the Creation of the World.
Although nowadays we have no Temple, one can still apply the lesson of the sacrificial services in their lives, by practicing tzedakah and good deeds with a sense of physical and emotional investment; to sacrifice a piece of our body and the feelings of our hearts. It is written about the inexpensive meal (cake) offering, that a "soul" brings it, as opposed to a "man". Since the intent of the meal offering was to make the Temple services accessible even to the poor, the Torah means to teach us that when a poor person brings even a small offering, Hashem considers it as if he brought "his very soul". So to with us, who are "spiritually poor", any offering we make will surely be accepted as if we had brought "our very souls". With Pesach arriving soon, this is an espeically propitious time for tzedakah and good deeds, conforming with the tradition of "Wheat Money", collected to buy matzos for those families in need. I encourage everybody to make an effort to participate in this important mitzvah, and help bring G-d's Creation closer to perfection.

Parshas VaYakhel-Pekudei

This week's Torah portion is a combined Sidra, Parshas VaYakhel-Pekudei, meaning respectively "And he assembled" and "Accounts". This Sidra is primarily a summary of previous information from the Book of Shemot (Exodus), in which the Torah describes the actual buildling of the Mishkan (Tabernacle in the Desert), according the the instructions which Moshe had received, and the anointing of the structure with all its utensils, as well as Aaron and his sons to serve there as Cohanim (priests). Perhaps because of the seeming redundancy, there is one particular change in the two accounts which many commentaries bring out, and this is the order in which G-d Almighty commanded Moshe and then how Moshe commanded the Children of Israel to build the Tabernacle. Specifically, in the commandment received on Mt. Sinai, Moshe was commandment to first build the Ark of Testimony and then the physical structure of the Tabernacle. In our Sidra, however, the order is reversed, and the Children of Israel, led by Bezalel son of Uri, first build the structure of the Tabernacle and then the Ark. To understand the significance of this change first we should explain what the Ark and the Tabernacle (structure) represent, specifically by way of their contents. The Ark was built to hold the tablets of the 10 Commandments received at Mt. Sinai, physical "testimonies" of G-d's encounter with mankind. On the other hand, the Tabernacle was built to house the particlar services of the priests, including animal sacrifices and incense offerings. The Ark serves a "passive" and hidden role; by simply resting in the chamber of the Holy of Holies it serves its purpose. The Tabernacle, however, is "active" and revealed, defined by the services performed there for all to see.
Based on this distinction, we can now understand the difference in the order of construction. The simple explantion frequently given is that when Moshe received the instructions on Mt. Sinai, this was before the Sin of the Golden Calf, but when he passed the instructions on to Israel, it was after he had spent his second and third 40 day periods on the Mt. to gain forgiveness. According to our explanation, therefore, somehow at the time of the Revelation at Sinai "passivity" preceeded "action"; but later "action" came to proceed "passivity". It is explained in Chassidic philosophy that at Mt. Sinai Israel was on the level of a perfect saint, meaning they could clearly perceive the unity of G-d and then bring themselves to proper action; while later they were on the level of the penitant, who in order to return to his original status (and in fact reach even higher) must first take action and "change direction", and through this experience he can come to comprehension. This order more acurately parralels the actual service of the Tabernacle, where the Holy of Holies (containing the Ark) was entered only once each year after an entire years worth of service, at which point the High Priest would make a short blessing for health and physical sustanance, so that the Priests could continue their service for the next year. Similarly it should be in our lives, that much hard word is rewarded by peak moments of "passivity" or "rest", which then give us the stength to continue until we reach the next peak. From strength to strength!

Parshas KiTisa

This week's portion is Parshas KiTisa, which literally means, "When you will take", referring to the half-silver-sheckle tax taken for the the Tabernacle in the Wilderness. The portion deals primarilly with the communal sin of the Golden Calf, and Moshe's (eventually successfull) attempts to gain forgiveness from G-d Almighty on behalf of the Children of Israel. Because this portion deals with such uncomfortable subject matter (the worship of idols just a short while after the receiving of the Torah on Mt. Sinai), and the more uplifting portions are in fact very cryptic, I'll share a simple concept in Hassidic philosophy that I believe relates to returning from a trip to Israel.
Because, in Judaism, we conceive of G-d as a "transcendent" figure, traditional concepts of "Holy" and "Mundane" do not necessarily correspond to "Better" and "Worse" as one might otherwise assume. Similarly, we say that G-d is finite just as he is infinite; that he incompasses, equally, two opposites. The concrete example, is of course, the difference between the Holy Land, Israel, and the rest of the mundane world. In Israel, spirituality is very present, as many religions trace their roots here. In America, however, secularism rules, and G-dliness, so to speak, is hidden. This dichotomy, however, belies the true nature of G-d; He is equally "present" on the Temple Mount as in Walmart. Therefore, the way to have a genuine spiritual experience, to connect with G-dliness, would be to somehow connect to the transcendental essence which equally pervades the Holy and the Mundane. Therefore, if we hang a mezuzah which we purchased in Yerushalayim in our apartment in New York, or share the shabbos experience with the uninitiated, then we are truly connected with G-dliness, on an even higher level that when these things seemed so present; when every door had a mezuzah, or every street was empty for the Sabbath. This, for me, is the real meaning of the Land of Israel and of Jerusalem, that G-d should have a dwelling place in this simple world.

Parshas Terumah

This week's sidra is Parshas Terumah, which describes the details for constructing the Tabernacle (the tent in the Wilderness which held the Ark of the Testimony, and where the animal-sacrifices were brought; later converted into the permanent Temple in Jerusalem) and all of its accessories, including the Menorah, "Showbread" Table, and Altars. The title of the Sidra is taken from the verse, "Speak to the children of Israel, and have them take for Me an offering; from every person whose heart inspires him to generosity, you shall take My offering." This describes the 1/2 Silver Sheckle donation given by every Jew towards the bulding of the Tabernacle.
In this Sidra, Israel is insructed to build a "Sanctuary" so that G-d Almighty can dwell among them. Our sages tell us that this commandment is a permanent commandment for all times. The Rebbe, therefore, asks the question, as to how we can fulfill this commandment now, when the 3rd Temple in Jerusalem can only be rebuilt when Massiach arrives (therefore, we do not meet the primary conditions!). The answer given can be explained from a teaching of Maimonides (see above), who says that anyone that learns the laws of buidling the Temple, is considered as if he built the Temple himself. This means that in any synagogue, or even home, today, we can participate in building the Temple. This also extends beyond just the laws of the Temple, to the learning of all parts of the Torah. Therefore, the Rebbe instructs that we can fulfill this command by making our homes "Temples", sanctuaries of learning and practicing good deeds.

Parshas Mishpatim

This week's Sidra is Parshas Misphatim (literally, "ordinances"), taken from the first verse which reads, "And these are the ordinances which you shall set before them". Unlike last week, where we had to dig deep to find a connection between the name of the Sidra and its content, this week's name summarizes the entire Sidra in one word, as we are instructed on everything from slavery to civil law; and at the end Moshe ascends Mount Sinai to recieve 40 Days and Nights of instruction from the Almighty. In general, there are three types of "laws" in the Torah, Eidim ("Testimonies") which commemerate events (such as eating Matzo on Pesach), Chookim ("Decrees") which comprise the supra-rational laws (such as kashrut), and Misphatim ("Ordinances") which resemble secular law. That a Parsha on Ordinances directly follows the super-natural giving of the Torah on Mt. Sinai is meant to teach us that even the rational laws of the Torah should be performed in the same manner as the supra-rational laws: simply because G-d Almighty himself put them in the Torah; because as long as they are left to the subjective human mind, mistakes in judgement will always be made. The Rebbe explains that this contains very deep instruction for us. If G-d felt the need to instruct Mankind about these laws, then he surely he felt that despite their logical underpining, not everyone would accept them if not for divine instruction. For example, we still find that people steal although it says not to in the 10 Commandments. Therefore, by including these very simple, seemingly logical, rules G-d meant to instruct even those members of society who don't understand such principles, by means of logic or anything else; and to instruct them in the same breath as he instructed holy sages and Torah scholars; from the lowest depths to the highest peaks. Similarly, those great sages who themselves will put these laws into practice as judges, must still confront the physical world with its unfortunate realities of theft and lying, and become aquainted with the mundane rules of monetary compensation. This tells him that he must even strive to understand the supra-rational commands, in a manner that can "bring them down to earth".

Parshas Yisro

This week's sidra is Parshas Yitro. Most famous because it contains the Giving of the Ten Commandments at Sinai, the Parsha is quizicolly named after Moshe's father in-law, who comes to visit Israel in the Wildnerness after hearing of the great miracles performed for them at the Sea and against Amalek. Yitro sees the great burden Moshe caries as sole intermediary between the Children of Israel and G-d Almighty, and advises him to establish a system of magistrates, filtering out all but the most difficult cases.
Although the Giving of the Torah is certainly the most dramatic event of this week's sidra (accompanied by Sounds Seen and Lights Heard), I would like to share the following teaching from the Rebbe about Yitro, the mysterious man of many names (seven to be exact), who comes to advise Moses our Great Teacher:
It is quite rare that a sidra should be named after an individual, therefore this merits special attention, especially when the parsha contains seemingly "more important" events, like the Revelation at Sinai, and we have to understand the connection between Yitro and these events. The Torah tells us that Yitro was the "Kohein of Midian", because he had served in all the false religions in the world (these included fire worshipers who sacrificed their children, and idol worshipers known to throw excrement at their idol during worship), what could this have to do with the Torah? Maimonides (famous 12th century codifier) tells that idol worship comes from mistaking the power given to "stars and spheres" to orchestrate nature as reason to honor them of themselves, as opposed to honoring He who game them this power. However, in truth these "constellations" are no more that an "axe in the hand of the woodchopper", and deserving of no worship. Yitro was aware of all the different ways that G-d channels energy into the world, and still came to declare, "Blessed be G-d...Now I know that G-d is greater than all the deities." This personal acknowledgement of Yitro's was the preperation for the general revelation of Torah to follow at Sinai, which we are taught, was given solely to create peace in the world. Here, peace refers to harmony between opposites: that G-d's presence should be recognized in a world that seems to be completely absent of it. It is written that before the Torah was given, the "Heavens were G-d's" and the "Earth was for Man", but at Sinai this boundary was broken, and they would be fused. This is the true meaning of peace: not that one side nullifies the other, but that they come together to elevate eachother. Therefore, giving the Torah, on a lowly mountain, means to bring about an awareness of G-d within the context of the world itself; that without His constant supervision, the world would not exist. The Torah provides this peace on a personal level (Yitro) and also on a global level (Sinai). Furthermore, the name Yitro is etymlogically related to "advantage". The Zohar (the basic text of Jewish mysticism), connects this to what is written, "I saw an advantage to the light over the darkness". There is another meaning for Yitro, however, and it is "higher quality"; in other words there is a higher quality to light which comes "over" (from) darkness; that darkness becomes a source for light; that the physical becomes a source for the spiritual. Finally, it is written that at Sinai the world stood in a state of absolute oneness with G-d, however, because this event was initiated by G-d (in a way of breaching a boundary), it was only temporary. However, when mankind takes the teachings of the Torah to heart and puts them in to practice, they transform darkness into light from the bottom up, as we see from the order of events, first Yitro changed himself personally, and then the world was changed at Sinai. This makes it possible to permantly dissolve the dichotomy, and we will realize that G-d "dwells within us".

Parshas Beshelach

Parshas BeShelach (literally "in sending"), coming from the from the verse, "And it came to be, when Pharoe send the nation, G-d Almighty did not lead by the path of the Philistines, although it was near...", and then continues to desrcribe their roundabout path to the Sea of Reeds. Here, the Torah tells the famous story of the Splitting of the Sea, whereby the Jews were brought through on dry land and the Egyptians were drowned in the depths. The Jews then composed the "Song of the Sea", which to this day we recite every morning as part of the prayer service. What follows is back and forth between the Jewish nation, and Moshe and G-d, whereby the people complain, first about lack of water, and then about lack of food, prompting Moshe to perform miracles by turning bitter water sweet, causing the Manna to descend from Heaven (including a double portion on Fridays, the first reference to the Shabbos), and a stone to stream water (the complaints of the nation will be a constant theme throughout the 40 years in the desert). Finally, Israel is attacked by their eternal (at least until the days of Moshiach!) enemy, Amalek, and prevail only when Moshe's hands are supported by Aaron and Hur (that he could pray), allowing Joshua to overrun them.

I would like to now share a short teaching from the Rebbe on this week's Sidra:
It is brought down in the Oral-Tradition, that when Israel arrived at the Sea and they saw the Egyptians approaching, 4 cliques formed, as they decided what to do next: One group wanted to jump into the sea, the second wanted to return to Eygpt, the third wanted to fight the Egyptians, and the fourth wanted to raise their hands in prayer. The Rebbe explains that these are 4 ways of confronting the "Egyptians" of the world (in general, Egypt/Pharoe refers to that which is not-holy, but on a more general level, that which oppresses us). The first way, to jump into the sea, means to jump into the sea of Torah, of Holiness, and to seperate oneself from the world. Apart from being against Torah-law (suicide is forbidden in Judaism), it is generally a selfish course of action; this character could be called a work-a-holic. In the second way, to go back to Egypt, he does not break any law, but says he will accept another to rule over him, and keep Torah to the greatest extent possible (after all, there are exceptions made when one's life is at risk from a foreign power); this character is somebody who settles for the 9-5 life. The third way, to fight Egypt (in a Torah permissible way), while lacking the submission of the second option, is still "me" centered, he believes that HIS energy and determination alone can overturn an entire army; this character is somebody who gives their life over for very lofty causes, but ignores basic neccessities like family or helping those in his own neighborhood. The forth way, the raise your hands in prayer, on the outside seems very ideal from a Torah perspective (after all, it shows ultimate faith in G-d), however, it denies the basic premise of the Torah, which tells us that the teaching and the commandments were given to us "to DO them today", this way of life requires some action, in the way of a partnership with G-d Almighty; this character is somebody who decides to leave this world and move to a mountain in China.
The Rebbe teaches us, however, that there is a 5th way. The Torah says that when Israel presented these complaints and options to Moshe, he rebuked them, and then after consluting with G-d Almighty instructed them to "go forward". For us this means following our leaders, and conducting ourselves with consistancy and integrity. That which we do, in Torah and in other matters, we should do to the best of our ability and take pride it in, all the while increasing in learning and good deeds, focusing on the future. With this attitude of "go forward" G-d will open up paths for us and perform miracles. It is said that small miracles happen every day that even surpass that of the splitting of the Reed Sea. Why? By the Splitting of the Sea, it is written that G-d "blew an easterly wind the whole night", however, for somebody to be in the right place at the right time, in the way of a coincidence, takes preperation going back all the way to the beginning of creation! Surely with confidence and humilty we can "go forward" in the face of any challenge, and with the help of G-d Almighty, our personal Egypt will be tossed in the Sea and thrown to the ocean floor, at which point we will "walk through on dry land".

Parshas Bo

The Sidra Parsha Bo (literally "come"), coming from G-d's commandment that he should "come" to Pharoe and continue to instruct that he should allow the Jews to leave Egypt and "serve their G-d in the desert". As usual, Pharoe's heart is "hardened' and he refuses to let them go, which brings upon him the final three plagues, locusts, darkness, and the death of the firstborn. This Sidra is also significant because it contains the first "mitzvah" (literally "commandment", and etomylogically related to "connection") given by G-d specifially to the Jewish people through Moses. This mitzva is the setting of the months: the Torah calender is lunar, and the traidition would be that the High Court would hear testimony concerning the appearance of the New Moon, after which they would declare a new month, and all dates and holidays in that month would follow in suit. The direct signifance in this Sidra relates to the next commandment, also given in Bo, to make take a young lamb on the 10th of the month, and to make the Pesach sacrifice on the 14th. Also included are the various laws concerning the Pesach sacrifice (both with regards to this particular offering only performed in Egypt, and the offering to be performed in the Temple in Jerusalem for all generations). Finally, the Sidra tells of the very famous "Exodus" from Egypt on Erev Pesach.

10 Shevat

The 10th of the month of Shevat on the Hebrew calendar is the Yarzeit of the Previous Lubavitcher Rebbe, Yosef Yitzchak Schneerson in 5710 (1950), and also the inauguration date of his son-in-law, the 7th and final Rebbe of Lubavitch, Menechem Mendel Schneerson (their memories should be for a blessing) one year later in 5711 (1951). I would just like to share a brief biography of Rabbi Yosef Yitzchak (RYY) in their memories:
RYY, the only son of the 5th Rebbe, R Sholom Ber, was born in 1880 in Lubavitch Russia. Recognized as a great prodigy at a young age, he became the head of the Yeshiva in Lubatvitch at the age of just 15. The effects of the Revolution took a great toll on his father, and RYY was pressed into the leadership after R Sholom Ber's death in 1920. As Rebbe, RYY established a wide range of underground educational organizations in order to keep the flame of "yiddishkeit" burning despite the oppression of the Jewish Section of the Communist party. In 1927 he was jailed as a counter-revolutionary. In jail he survived repeated torture and death threats, and his death sentence was finally commuted on 4 Tammuz (about the beginning July), and he was released 8 days later. For much of the rest of his life he had to go in a wheelchair. He quickly left Russia to more friendly parts of Europe (for the time being), including Warsaw and Riga (in Latvia), before finally emigrating to the US in 1940. There, beginning with less than a minyan (10 men), he reestablished the Lubavitch Hassidic dynasty, while continuing to front underground activities in Russia. Until the lifting of the Iron Curtain almost 50 years later, Lubavitch was the only religious Jewish presence in Communist Russia. In Crown Heights, Brooklyn he established the Chabad Printing House, the Chabad Educational Arm, and numerous other organizations that served as the basis for his successor's, Rabbi Menachem Schneerson, wide ranging outreach programs. Rabbi Yosef Yitzchak is remembered as the paramount example of self-sacrifice in the quest to help and another Jew and another human being; a quality that all of his students and disciples continue to strive for to this day.

Parshas Vaeira

This weeks Parsha (or Sidra) is Va'eira (literally, "and I appeared"), and primarially tells the story of the first 7 plagues to befall the Egyptians and the hands of Moshe: Blood in the Nile, Frogs, Lice, Wild Beasts, Death of Cattle, Boils, Hail. However, the parsha begins in the midsts of an exchange between Moshe and G-d in which Moshe is questioning why G-d increased the suffereing of the Jewish people (by way of Pharoe) after Moshe fulfilled G-d's command to request that Pharoe release the Jews from slavery (at the end of the previous parsha, Shemot). This leads us to the first verse of this weeks portion, "G-d spoke to Moshe and He said to him, "I am the Lord. I appeared to Abraham, to Isaac, and to Jacob with [the name] Almighty God, but [with] My name YHWH, I did not become known to them."" Before we hear what the Rebbe has to say about this, I will give a brief preface about the concept of the different names of G-d: in the Torah there are two primary names by which G-d is refered to, one is Elokim (meaning the G-d of the natural world, and referring to his attribute of judgement and severity, this was the name used to create the world, "In the beginning, etc", and the name with which he appeared to the Fathers) and the other is YHWH, the 4-letter name of G-d (refering to the transcendent G-d, and his attribute of kindness). In the case of our particular verse here, the fact that G-d Almight only revealed himself to Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob with his "limited" name teaches us that they never questioned him (to the point that he should reveal his "true" intentions) despite the trials with which they were confronted. Moshe, on the other hand, is famous for his confrontational attitude with G-d Almighty. Therefore this verse essentially contains a rebuke of Moshe: if the Fathers did not ask questions of Me, then how do you Moshe, see fit to question Me?
There is something very important to understand about this interchange between G-d and Moshe, because it is very rare for the Torah to criticize even an animal, and yet here there is an open admonition of Moshe our Great Teacher. To answer this, we must understand the essential difference in the ways that the Fathers and Moshe 'served' G-d. The Fathers represented the 3 emotional traits of Kindness (Abraham), Severity (Isaac), and Mercy (Jacob, a combination of the first two), while Moshe the transmittor of the Wisdom of the Torah represents Intellect (this is not to say that the Fathers did not use intellect and that Moshe did not use emotion, but rather in general they were characterized by these traits). This can explain why Moshe brought questions to G-d, seeking to comprehend G-d's ways; in order that he could transmit it to the rest of the Jewish people (including us today) whose intellects' were more mundane; whereas the Fathers' mode of service was primarily action oriented (to spread G-d's Kindness, or Severity, or Mercy throughout the world, in the way of faith without questions). Therefore, when Moshe brought this question against G-d, his response was to, so to speak, to refer him to the example of the Fathers; that he should combine the great intellectual service he already embodied with his emotions and heart, and therefore translate his knowledge into action. In general, this was the achievement of the giving of the Torah; that intellect and emotion, the spritual and the mundane, the G-d of heaven and the G-d of earth should be fused; the Higher brought down into the Lower, and the Lower elevated to the level of the Higher. So included in this instruction to Moshe is also instruction to those whose primarly function in this world is based on emotion, that they should learn to channel their emotions with the power of their intellect. These two character types, the intellectual and the emotional, span the entire range of humans, described in the Torah as including everyone from the "heads of your tribes" to "the hewers of your wood and the drawers of your water"; from the great scholars to the simple working people who simply follow their heart and natural instince of right and wrong; and the directive is that they must all work together and learn from one another. It was this way that Moshe brought the Jewish people together that they should be 'redeemed' from the slavery of Egypt, and it is in this way that we can all bring ourselves out from our personal Eygpts, and eventually into our personal Israels, "a land flowing with milk and honey".

Parshas Shemos

This week's torah portion is Parsha Shemot ("Names"), beginning the second book of the Torah of Moses, the Book of Shemos, or Exodus. The parsha (and book) begins with a conjunction, "AND these are the names of the children of Israel who went down to Egpyt...", which 13th-century commentator the Ramban, or Nachmondies, tells us to mean that this book is a continuation of the previous book. How so? The book of Bereishit, or Genesis, explained the creation of the world and the Jewish people, in the way of a prequel, and ended with the beginning of the first Jewish exile, the exile in Egpyt. Since this story is contained in the book of Bereishit, it must be that the concept of Exile is an essential element of the creation of the world and the Jewish people, like all other topics that are contained in the Book of Bereishit. In fact, following the rule that "the beginning is wedged in the end", we can even say that it is as important as the Creation of the world itself. It is therefore, from the same topic that the second book, the Book of Shemos, Exodus, begins, and expounds upon. Most essentially, this book tells the story of the leaving of Egypt and receiving the Torah at Mt. Sinai, and finally the erecting of the Tabernacle, or Sanctuary, in the Desert, creating a resting place for G-d Almighty, in this physical world.
After this brief introduction to the Book of Shemos, I would like to share a word from the Lubavitcher Rebbe on this weeks portion:
We are told in the parsha that Moshe was taken from the Nile in a basket (where he was deposited to save him from a decree that required all sons to be drowned) and raised in Pharoe's house, and when he came of age he decided to go out and see the oppression of the Jewish people, knowing that he himself was of this nation. On his excursion, he witnessed an Egyptian man beating a Jew, and he could not stop him with words, so he "struck [the Egyptian] down", killing him. The next day, Moshe went out again, and now saw two Jews quarreling. When he attempted to separate them, one of men asked him if he would "kill him as he did the Egyptian?" At this point, the Torah says that Moshe became scared because "the matter had become known". Rashi, the greatest of all Torah commentators, says here that, in addition to the simple explanation (i.e. he was scared for his own life), Moshe was scared because perhaps now the Jewish people were not worthy to be redeemed from Egypt. Several questions are raised here, namely, how could it be that Moshe, the greatest of all prophets (as determined by Maimonides in the 13 Principles of Faith), could worry about such matters? Surely he knew that he was destined to lead the Children of Israel out of Egypt, and yet here he finds TWO reasons to doubt this outcome?
Essentially, these questions highlight a difference between faith and trust. A simple explanation (based on a similar incident with Yaakov, in which he feared for his own life before his reunion with Eisav, his older brother from whom he took Yitzchak's birthright) says that Moshe was worried that his sin, killing a man, was reason for G-d to go back on his promise. This refers to faith, faith that G-d is a perfectly just judge, and that whatever he does is "for the best", so to speak, just because it is his will. Trust ("bitachon" in the Holy Tongue of Hebrew) on the other hand, means trusting that when G-d makes a promise he will surely fulfill it, despite any obstacles either from within (the seeming unworthiness of the recipient of G-d's kindness) or from without (circumstances that perhaps would require a reversal of Nature). Therefore here, Moshe, despite his perfectly good faith, displayed a distinct lack of trust. This is why the very next verse in the Torah says, "Pharoe heard of this incident, and he sought to slay Moshe, so Moshe fled to the desert". There was no "punishment" in store, until he allowed negative thinking to enter into his mind.
From here, we learn the very important hassidic maxim of "think good and it will be good". This means that at all times and in all situations, we not only have the right, but the responsibility to expect only visible and revealed good. That even in the darkest of "exiles", both physical and spiritual, we have to cry out "Until When?!?!" How much longer must we live in a dark world where evil flourishes, where war, death, illness, and suffering meet us at every stop? And then, because we have expected good from He who bestows good, even though in truth we may have not acted to our full potential, and G-d has every right to not fulfill his promises, in the merit of our trust the good will surely be revealed!

Parshas Vayechi

The name of this weeks portion, the last in the book of Bereishit (Genesis) literally means "And he lived", this refers to Yaakov Avinu (Jacob Our Father, generally Avraham, Yitzchak and Yaakov are called Our Fathers), who lived in the land of Mitzrayim (Egypt) for 17 years before passing away at the age of 147. In Hebrew the number 17 can be made from the same letters that spell out the word Tov, or Good (in Hebrew, letters are also used as numbers), which teaches us that there were actually the best years of Yaakov's life.
The Parsha tells the story of Yaakov's death and the blessings that he bestows upon his sons (and grandsons) who compose the 13 Tribes of Israel. I'd like to focus on one specific blessing that Yaakov gave, to the two sons of Yosef, Menashe and Ephraim, who were born to Yosef in Egypt to the daughter of PotiFar (who by Divine Providence was herself a descendant of Yaakov, orphaned in Egypt). In the reckoning of the Tribes of Israel Yosef himself is not counted, but rather he is represented by his two sons. On a literal level, this represented the passing over of the 'first-born' to Yosef, in that his descendants received the double portion of inheritance reserved for the firstborn (in escrow until Joshua would actually like the children of Israel in to Canaan after Moshe's death). While this in itself could serve as a lengthy discussion (how were the other sons passed off? what does it mean to the be first-born?), I would like to focus on the beracha (the blessing) given to Menashe and Ephraim (here listed in order of their birth). We are told that when Yaakov came to bless the two boys, he switched his hands and placed his right hand upon Ephraim and his left hand upon Menashe; in other words he switched THEIR birthrights, the right hand (for the first-born) blessing Ephraim, the younger son, and vice versa. At the same time, Yosef asks his father if he knows what he is doing, to which Yaakov replies in the affirmative. We have to understand, why did Yaakov make the switch?
One way to explain this is by prefacing with a more subtle, but slightly more troubling inconsistency in this story: how did Yosef (know as "The Tzaddik" or "The Righteous") believe that his father (himself known as "The Chariot of G-d Almighty") had make a mistake and blessed in the wrong order? Rather, it must be that for Yosef, Menashe was truly the first-born, and yet for Yaakov it was Ephraim. How could this be? We are taught that Yaakov and Yosef represent two different 'modes' in their relationships with Egypt; for Yaakov, he came from Eretz Yisrael and, in a sense continued to live in the same way in Goshen; wherever he was, he was in Eretz Yisrael, above and removed, a light that can not be extinguished. Yosef, on the other hand, was so involved in Egypt that he actually ruled over it; not only did he "descend" (in a physical and spiritual sense) to Egypt and keep his principles, but he actually came out of it better; this is light, that when placed in a dark room seems tremendously bright, although in truth it is the same light as before.
So what is the connection between Yaakov and Yosef, and Ephraim and Menashe? To explain we will look at the names of the boys: the name Menashe is related to the word "to forget" in Hebrew, meaning "G-d made me forget (Nashani) all my struggle and all my father's home"; in other words he recognizes that being in Egypt causes him to lose connection to his roots, and therefore, he has a great yearning NOT to forget and, on the contrary, even to remain connected; i.e. to take the "light" of his fathers home, of Yaakov, and bring it into the darkness of Egypt. This is very similar to what Yosef himself did, and therefore Yosef saw Menashe as his first born. Ephrayim, on the other hand comes from the word for "fruit", as in "G-d has made me fruitful (Hifrani) in the land of my oppression," meaning that the source of his oppression, Egypt, actually became the source of his fruitfulness; i.e. transforming darkness itself into light. Such a transformation could only be made possible by tapping into that higher source of light, that light that can never be diminished, represented by Yaakov; a light that is so powerful that before it, darkness actually becomes light.
Finally, we are taught that everything in the Torah provides lessons for us on a personal level and on a day-to-day basis. Here, we should recognize that all of these 'characters' (Yaakov, Yosef, Ephraim, and Menashe) exist within each one of us, and we all have the ability to connect with them in our lives. When we find ourselves in "personal Egypts" we should know that we have the power not only to be unaffected by our surroundings (physical and metaphysical), but to actually thrive there (by staying connected to our roots), and even to transcend our current situation and use it as a source for growth.

Parshas Vayigash

This weeks Torah portion (sedra) is Parshas Vayigash, which literally means, "He approached", taken from the first word of the Torah reading this week. This refers to Yehuda, the son of Yaakov (and ancestor of Kings David and Shlomo, and Melech Ha'Mosiach), who "approaches" Yosef, after the children of Israel have returned to Eretz Mitzrayim (otherwise known as Egypt) for the third time. A short refresher: on the first trip they were sent by Yaakov to get food during the famine, when they arrived Yoseph accused them of being spies (one reason is that they entered the city from 10 different gates to split up and look for Yoseph, which he then used as a source for suspicion...), therefore he held Shimon captive on the condition that they should return to Eretz Canaan (Israel) and bring back their youngest brother Binyomin to confirm their story. Upon returning to their father Yaakov's house, they discover that the money they thought they had spent on food was still in their packs, and after much difficulty manage to convince Yaakov to send Binyomin (his youngest and only remaining son from favored, and now deceased, wife Rachel) back down with them to Mitzrayim (Egypt) to retrieve their other brother Shimon. The second trip goes as planned, however, Yoseph plants another sack of money in one food pack, and then sends a servant to retrieve the "stolen" money. It turns up in Binyomin's pack, and now the brothers must return once again to the House of Yoseph and somehow convince him of Binyomin's innocence, in order that their father should not be broken by the loss. This brings us to the beginning of our parsah, Yayigash; as we mentioned Yehuda "approached" Yoseph in order to plead for Binyomin's release. As a result of this show of brotherly unity, Yoseph can no longer control his emotions and finally breaks into tears and reveals his true identity to his brothers (including showing them his bris-milah). Yoseph inquires about his father, and eventually word reaches Pharoe of this good news, and he decides to bring Yaakov and his family down to Mitzrayim (Egypt) as well, and establish them with great wealth in the fertile land of Goshen. The brothers return to Yaakov in Canaan, and the whole family of "Seventy Souls" descend to Mitzrayim (Egypt). On the way God appears to Yaakov and makes the following promise: "Fear not to go down to Egypt; for I will there make of you a great nation. I will go down with you into Egypt, and I will also surely bring you up again." Yisrael and his children comfortable settle in Goshen.

And now a short word from the Rebbe:
It's written in this week's parsha, "And Yosef nurtured... his brothers... [granting them] bread according to [the needs of] their children." In another place (the Book of Tehillim, Psalms) it is written that Hashem "leads Yosef like sheep", here referring to the Jewish people as a whole by the name Yosef. When the Torah does this it means that within every Jew there is a piece of Yosef, a part of them that "nurtures his brothers" and "gives bread for their family's needs". Additionally, Yosef did this kindness AFTER the cruel acts which his brothers had done to him, by selling him into slavery in the first place. This means that a Jew even has the ability to "nurture" those who had once before betrayed him very cruelly, "to repay those who are culpable with goodness". Furthermore, it is written in the Midrash that Yosef not only sustained his family according to their needs, but according to their deeds. This means, that although it seemed cruel to throw him into the pit and then sell him to traders, this began a long series of events that eventually landed Yosef in a position of great power to now help his family; therefore the objective outcome, the actualy deed itself (regardless of the motivations) is what Yoseph is "repaying". This refers to a level in our relationship with Hashem, that he treats us according to our deeds. He recognizes that on the inside we desire only to do good, and therefore objectively recognizes our good deeds regardless of the motivations that brought them about. This is the true way of nurturing, because by focusing for long enough on the good, eventually it to will come to the surface, and now we can be rewarded not just for our deeds, but also for the intentions behind the deed. Ultimately, this is a much higher level of "Divine Service".