Editor's Note:
Dear Friend,
Thanksgiving is here, and more than 46.9 million Americans are on the road, many of them celebrating the holiday with family and friends. Sitting around tables laden with home-cooked delicacies, they’ll be sharing words of thanks to G‑d and a tradition that cuts to the core of the religious and moral underpinnings of the American republic, and its culture of freedom and compassion.
Several thousand travelers will also converge in New York for a rather large (and unique) annual gathering: the International Conference of Chabad-Lubavitch Emissaries. They’ll join colleagues who have followed the call of the Rebbe—Rabbi Menachem M. Schneerson, of righteous memory—to spread the light of Judaism in places like Vietnam, Alaska, Nigeria and Croatia (to name a few). Sitting around tables laden with kosher delicacies, they’ll share words of thanks to G‑d and a tradition that traces back to the teachings of Rabbi Israel Baal Shem Tov, who taught the importance of each and every individual, and the preciousness of joyous service of the Almighty.
No matter if you’ll be spending Thanksgiving at home or with friends, make sure to clear Sunday evening to tune in and watch the live feed of the banquet, always an inspiring and interesting event.
Thanks for reading,
The Chabad.org Editorial Team
P.S.: What are you feeling grateful for right now? Please leave us a comment and share your gratitude with us.
Higher LifeThe years of Sarah were…these were the years of Sarah.[Genesis 23:1]
Sarah had two sets of years to her life, because she merited to higher life as well. Why Sarah more than anyone else? Because she descended to Egypt and rose back up.[Zohar]
You came to this life to achieve higher life. Yet whatever spiritual heights you could achieve in this life cannot compare to the heights of your soul before it was squeezed into the limitations of a body. Before it descended to Egypt.
That is, until you do what was put in front of you to do, until you work with this Egypt into which you have been sent, holding tight to your integrity, filling each act with meaning, redeeming the jewels that were lost among the ashes.
Then you will rise higher than anything your soul could achieve. Even while living in this world, you will have higher life.[Maamar Chayei Sarah 5713 (1958)]This Week's Features
Printable Magazine
Greeting the Bride
Kabbalah provides a map of all relationships, from their origin.
The Wedding Maamar
Greeting the Bride
Based on the teachings of the Lubavitcher Rebbe, Rabbi Menachem M. Schneerson
The Parshah of Chayei Sarah recounts the story of the first Jewish marriage, that of Isaac and Rebecca. That makes this a good week to present a classic teaching about the meaning of the wedding ceremony.
Introduction
Before the actual wedding ceremony begins, the groom traditionally sits with relatives and friends and says some words of Torah. In many circles, he will discuss the following maamar, which was delivered by the Rebbe, Rabbi Menachem M. Schneerson, of righteous memory, in 1954. In doing so, the groom is inviting the Rebbe to be present at the wedding.
If you listen carefully, you will notice that an entire chain of rebbes are mentioned by name, from the Arizal and the Baal Shem Tov up to the Rebbe’s predecessor and father-in-law, Rabbi Yosef Yitzchak. As they are mentioned, each comes to participate in the celebration.
1. Outer Meeting, Inner Meeting
“Come, my beloved, to greet the bride! Let us behold the Shabbat!”
At the Rebbe’s wedding, his father-in-law, Rabbi Yosef Yitzchak, unveiled the innermost meaning of this verse. He quoted from Pirkei D’Rabbi Eliezerthat a groom is like a king. A bride is like a queen.
In this case, he continued, the groom, the king, is G‑d; and the bride, the queen, is the Jewish People.
That tells us that when the groom and bride meet under the chuppah, it's not just these two souls uniting. We say, “Come my beloved to greet the bride!” and we are inviting G‑d to approach His people with the anticipation and love that a groom feels for his bride.
And yet deeper:
The Kabbalah provides an intricate map of relationships at their origin.The Kabbalah provides an intricate map of relationships at their origin. Zah and malchutare the masculine and feminine of the divine.That’s the ten sefirot, which are the divine, inner soul of every thing in our world. And their interactions are the soul of every communication in the world.
Within the ten sefirot, the masculine and feminine aspects are called zahand malchut.
In our case, zah is the groom, and malchut is the bride—so that we are inviting zah to greet malchut. Under the chuppah, we are uniting the feminine and the masculine aspects of the divine.
In that talk, the Rebbe, Rabbi Yosef Yitzchak, explains that there are two steps to this unification.
In the first step, as zah meets malchut, the effect is all-encompassing, dramatically shifting the relationship. Nevertheless, the effect is only external. Only after that is zah drawn to malchut in an inner way, so that there’s a real, inner change.
In every relationship where one is transmitting and the other is receiving, you will find the same order.In every relationship where one is transmitting and the other is receiving, called mashpiaand mekabel We call the two parties of such a relationship the mashpia and the mekabel.
In the initial meeting of the mashpiaand the mekabel, you could say the outside of the mashpia makes contact with the outside of the mekabel. Yet in that external meeting, the mekabelenters into the world of the mashpia. Now the mekabel is ready to receive in an inner way.
In the maamar, the Previous Rebbe provides two examples of this dynamic. One describes how a teacher relates to a student; the other describes how a father plays with his small child.
These are not just examples of the two stages these relationships pass through. They also describe something very profound about each of these two stages.
First, they tell us that the external meeting provides something that cannot be provided in an inner meeting. Because, in this meeting, the mashpiadoes not need to compromise with the mekabel’s capacity to absorb. That’s why it has such a powerful, all-encompassing effect on the mekabel.
Nevertheless, this is only a preface to the inner meeting. In the inner meeting, the mashpia must constrain himself to provide only that which the mekabel can receive. Yet it's through that inner meeting that they can both reach higher, even beyond that all-encompassing effect.
That’s the meaning of the chuppah. As the Alter Rebbe explains, the chuppah encompasses the groom and bride as one. When that stage comes first, then the inner connection that follows takes them to a yet higher place, a place where the very essence of both of them meet and unite as one.
Now let's look at those two examples.
2. The Joke and the Lesson
The Talmud tells us that a teacher begins his lecture with a joke. Everyone laughs together. Then, when he's actually teaching, the students are sitting in awe, absorbing his wisdom.
On the one hand, the opening joke provides only a superficial glimpse of the teacher's mind. On the other hand, it’s with that small glimpse that the students are drawn into their teacher’s way of thinking. Now they are able to absorb the lesson that follows.
There's a whole Kabbalah to laughter.There's a whole Kabbalah to laughter.The Mittler Rebbe describes laughter as simple, undiluted pleasure. The Rebbe Rashab says that's what we are talking about here. Laughter acts as a kind of chuppah, an all-encompassing effect that is a vital preface to the inner connection that follows.
The inner connection is when the teacher transmits knowledge to the students. There's pleasure there too, but it's diluted by the pursuit of knowledge.
This may seem counter-intuitive, but the point is that the laughter is actually a more powerful transmission, from a more essential place within the teacher, than the lesson that follows.
Nevertheless, when the students absorb the teacher's lesson, truly internalizing it, and the teacher sees that, he experiences an even higher form of pleasure—such a deep pleasure that the teacher and student aren't even aware of it. It's beyond feeling.
That explains the assertion of the rabbis that you learn more from your students than from your teachers or colleagues. Because when your students absorb your teachings and make them their own, that touches the very essence of your being.
3. Father and Child
Next comes the example of a father who wants to play with his little child. The child lives in a different world than the father, down there on the floor. So the father stoops down and picks him up.
The father hasn’t given anything to the child and the child hasn’t yet received anything from his father. Yet, through this uplifting, the child enters the father’s world. Now they can relate to one another.
When the Mezritcher Maggid gave this example, he mentioned that the child plays with the father's beard.The imagery of a child playing with his father’s beard has deep meaning.There's meaning there.
The beard represents the thirteen divine attributes of mercy that are beyond this world—and therefore capable of repairing it. And yet, they are still related to the world. They are, after all, G‑d’s compassion for His world.
In this way, the beard signifies the initial, external and all-encompassing connection—the delight the father shows by just playing with his child. Through that play, when the father begins to teach the child, the connection is much deeper. It reaches to the very core of both of them, uniting them there.
The Tzemach Tzedek explains this dynamic in many places: The initial meeting is actually much more powerful, but it’s the internal union that leads to the core-essence.
4. Beginning the Day Right
We go through this process on a daily basis.
We start the day with our prayers. The rabbis say that if you go out of your way to greet someone before you’ve said your morning prayers, it’s as though you made offerings on a forbidden altar.
The Rebbe Maharash explains: Before you have prayed, you are your own altar.To pray means to no longer be your own altar. Only once you've prayed are you connected to the divine.
To make that connection, the same two-step order applies. First there has to be an external kind of meeting. You reflect on how your soul is captured within a body and a mundane, limiting world. You feel bitter over the distance between you and anything divine.
After that, the prayer itself is an inner connection—so deep that you can now draw the divine into all your daily, material concerns. You can even make them expressions of the divine.
How can prayer make everyday activities divine?
There’s a teaching of the Baal Shem Tov that explains that. The Baal Shem Tov asks, “What’s so terrible about greeting someone before praying?” And he answers according to a teaching of the Arizal.
The Arizal explains why all the siblings have to respect the oldest son. He describes a stream of life flowing from the father through each child, beginning with the the oldest and from there, step by step, to the other children. It comes out that the oldest son is the first, most vital transmission of the father’s spirit, upon which all the other sons depend.
The Baal Shem Tov applies the same principle to your thoughts, words and actions over the day. They all extend, receive life, and are shaped by the very first words you say when you wake.
If so, the first words you say—and the first thoughts, and actions— have to be connected to your divine mission on earth, which is to serve your Maker.Your first words of the day are the channel from which all your other words extend.That way, you bring that divine mission into all your thoughts, words and actions of your entire day.
And that’s no small thing. It says, “There’s tremendous produce in the power of an ox.” Meaning: By harnessing an ox, a human can harvest far more produce. So too, by harnessing the everyday, material world in your divine mission, you unleash the very essence of divine power.
5. Reconnecting the Feminine
All this brings us back to the idea of uniting the masculine and feminine aspects of the ten sefirot. We need to ask the question: Why is it that only when the masculine enters the feminine in an inner way, only then do they both attain something so high, so essential?
The reason is because the feminine aspect of the ten sefirot has much deeper roots than the masculine. The feminine aspect of the sefirot has much deeper roots, in “the beginning that cannot be known.”The feminine is rooted in a place called “the beginning that cannot be known.” From there, it descends into creation, and with that descent those roots become concealed.
It’s up to the masculine aspect, zah, to uncover those roots. And when zahdoes that, then malchut, the feminine aspect, rises beyond zah, the masculine.
Now we can understand why the order has to follow those two steps:
First, zah—represented by the groom— has to be introduced to malchut—represented by the bride— in a way that expresses the advantage of zah’squalities over malchut. What's that advantage? Quite simply, that only zahcan connect malchut back to her roots.
But zah’s qualities are limited, as we explained earlier. So there has to be that inner connection. The whole point of that inner connection is for zah to put its own qualities aside and focus on the qualities of malchut.
It’s only through that kind of connection that we reach the place where malchut is rooted—far beyond the roots of zah. In fact, at that point there’s a reversal, and malchut becomes mashpia to zah.
That’s the meaning of the verse, “A woman of valor is the crown of her husband.” The crown is above the head, and empowers a king to rule.
6. The Two Sides of Shabbat
There’s then two extremes with malchut, parallel to the two extremes expressed in Shabbat.
On the one hand, Shabbat is the mekabel—it receives from the six days that precede it. If you don’t prepare anything during those six days, you don’t have anything to eat on Shabbat.
On the other hand, not only is Shabbat the holiest of all days, but Shabbat is mashpia to all of them.On Shabbat, there’s a reversal, and the feminine empowers the masculine. All the days of the week are blessed by Shabbat.
Why is it that way? Because Shabbat is related to malchut.
Malchut is that divine, feminine force that descends into our world to purify and elevate it, beginning with the animal within us. That labor of purification happens during the six days of work.
But through that labor, malchut—and so Shabbat—rises to a place beyond the six days, beyond zah.
7. Greeting the Bride
Now let’s go back to that verse, “Come, my beloved, to greet the bride! Let us behold the Shabbat!”
As we said, that’s us beckoning zah to enter into malchut.
So the first step is just that zah should come to greet malchut. But through that, zah comes to behold the inner beauty of malchut, as she is rooted much higher than zah.
That’s why we say “Let us behold the Shabbat!” Us—in plural. Because not only will malchut be connected to her original place, but zah will also receive from that origin of malchut, through malchut.
And that’s the way it works with every mashpia and mekabel—there’s this reversal at the end of the process.With every mashpia and mekabel there’s a reversal at the end of the process. By connecting the mekabel to her roots, the mashpia attains something he cannot get on his own—as in the example of the teacher who gains more from his students than from any teacher or colleague.
It’s especially so with a groom and bride. At that point where the groom puts himself aside so that there can be an inner connection with the bride, that’s when a woman of valor becomes the crown of her husband.
Through that, an infinite light is brought into the world, which is manifest through upright and blessed children and children’s children occupied with Torah and mitzvos.
Published on the occasion of the wedding of Michoel Dovid Freeman to Chaya Mushka Fogelman.
BASED ON THE TEACHINGS OF THE LUBAVITCHER REBBE, RABBI MENACHEM M. SCHNEERSON
An essay of the Lubavitcher Rebbe, of righteous memory; adapted by Tzvi Freeman. Special thanks to Rabbi Avraham Altein for his review, insights and emendations.
Artwork by Sefira Ross, a freelance designer and illustrator whose original creations grace many Chabad.org pages. Residing in Seattle, Washington, her days are spent between multitasking illustrations and being a mom.
Your Questions
Is This Month Cheshvan or Marcheshvan? By Yehuda Shurpin
I’m confused about the name of this Jewish month. Some call it “Cheshvan” and others say “Marcheshvan.” To complicate matters, on your own site, you have it both ways. So what is the correct name for this month, Cheshvan or Marcheshvan?
Reply
The Jerusalem Talmud informs us that “the names of the months came up with us from Babylonia.”1 Until the Babylonian exile, the months were either known by their number, e.g., “the first month,” or by names that are not commonly used nowadays. In fact, in the Book of Kings, this month is called “the month of Bul, the eighth month,”2 counting from the springtime month of Nissan.
The post-Babylonian-exile Scriptures (such as Esther and Nechemia), while mentioning other months, never mention this month, so there is no clear scriptural inference one way or the other.
Some suggest that “Marcheshvan” appears to come from the Akkadian word meaning “the eighth month.” 3
Marcheshvan vs. Cheshvan
Throughout the Mishnah4 and Talmud,5 and many later works, the month is called Marcheshvan. This is also the case when dating Jewish legal documents or when blessing the new month.6
On the other hand, we find that in the oldest extant esoteric work, Sefer Yetzirah (the Book of Formation)—a book that predates and is mentioned in the Talmud7—this month is referred to as Cheshvan.8 The Zohar likewise calls this month Cheshvan. 9 And this is how it is usually called in everyday speech.
So why the discrepancy? Because there is a difference of opinion whether the month's true name is Marcheshvan, or whether it really is Cheshvan and the mar is merely an appellation added to describe the month.
There are a number of explanations offered as to the deeper meaning behind the mar in Marcheshvan.
Bitterness
Some explain that mar means “bitterness” (think of the maror we eat on Passover). The month is seen as a bitter for a number of reasons:
● Coming after the holiday-rich month of Tishrei, the month of Marcheshvan is devoid of any holidays.10
● Sarah (and Rachel) passed away during this month.11
● During the First Temple Era, when the Jewish nation split into two kingdoms, Jeroboam, king of the northern tribes, instituted a pagan holiday in the month of Cheshvan to counter the worship of G‑d that took place in Jerusalem, which was situated in the kingdom of Judah.12
A Drop of Water
Others explain that the Hebrew word mar means “a drop of water,” as in the verse “like a drop (mar) from a bucket.”13 It is in this month that Jews in the land of Israel begin praying for rain. Thus, we say maras a prayer for rain.14 Additionally, the Mabul (Great Flood) in the times of Noah began in this month.15
(Interestingly, commentators point out that the original name for the month found in Scriptures, “Bul,” is also a reference to the Mabul.16)
Head or Master
Some explain that, on the contrary, the mar in Marcheshvan actually has a positive connotation, as the word mar can mean the honorific “Master.” This honorific is given since this is the month that King Solomon finished building the First Temple.17
In truth, there is an element of bitterness here as well, for although it was finished then, the Temple wasn’t dedicated until later, leaving the month bereft of a possible holiday.
Despite the dedication of the First Temple not being in the month of Marcheshvan, the Midrash relates that the Third Temple will be dedicated in this month.18 Thus, not only will it not be a “bitter” month, on the contrary, it will be a month of rejoicing!19 May it be speedily in our days!
Rabbi Yehuda Shurpin responds to questions for Chabad.org's Ask the Rabbi service.
FOOTNOTES
1.Jerusalem Talmud, Rosh Hashanah 1:2.
2.I Kings 6:38.
3.Thus it would be related to the words Merach-Shwan: Merach - month and Shwan - eight.See however the Aruch Hashalem where he suggests that it is Merachesh-Van; Merachesh (flows) Van (water).
4.Mishnah Taanit 1:3-4.
5.See, for example, Talmud, Rosh Hashanah 7a.
6.See, however, Minhagei Vermaisa 234, which says that the people of Worms, Germany, had the custom to call the month Cheshvan when blessing the month.
7.See, for example, Talmud Sanhedrin 65b.
8.Sefer Yetzirah 5:4.
9.See, for example, Zohar 2:275b, 3:260b, Zohar Chodosh 42a.
10.See Sdei Chemed, Maarechet Chatan U’Kallah 23.
11.See Esther Rabbah 7:13 and Sdei Chemed, Maarechet Chatan U’Kallah 23.
12.I Kings 12; see also Sefer Hatodaah.
13.Isaiah 40:15.
14.Pri Chadash, Even Haezor 126:7.
15.Opinion of Rabbi Eliezer in Talmud, Rosh Hashanah 11b.
16.Radak on I Kings 6:38.
17.See I Kings 6:38.
18.Yalkut Shemoni, Melachim 184.
19.Torat Menachem, 5742, vol. 1, p. 353-354; Bnei Yissaschar 2:56-57.© Copyright 2016, all rights reserved.
Your Questions
What Are the 7 Rabbinic Mitzvahs? By Yecheskel Posner
G‑d gave the Jewish nation 613 mitzvahs in the Torah. There are seven additional mitzvahs that the prophets and rabbis of the ancient judicial courts initiated during the first millennium after the giving of the Torah on Mount Sinai. The rabbis also instituted many additional decrees for the purpose of preserving the original 613 commandments.
When a rabbinical court institutes a new mitzvah or decree, and it is accepted among the Jewish nation, it becomes a part of Torah and Judaism. In fact, the Torah states, “According to the law they [the rabbinical courts] instruct you and according to the judgment they say to you, you shall do; you shall not divert from the word they tell you, either right or left.”1 Thus the Torah commands us to heed the instructions of the great rabbinical courts.
More on how that works
These are the seven rabbinic mitzvahs:2
1. Saying Hallel
The mitzvah of saying Hallel is to recite Psalms 113-118, which praise G‑d, on certain special occasions.
Hallel is recited on the festivals of Sukkot, Shemini Atzeret (Simchat Torah), Chanukah, Passover and Shavuot to show our gratitude to G‑d for the miracles that we are commemorating at those times. Each of these festivals celebrates the miracles that G‑d has performed for the Jewish nation. One of the ways of expressing our gratitude is by reciting Hallel. By extension, there is an ancient custom to recite a truncated Hallel on Rosh Chodesh (and the intermediate days of Passover).
2. Blessings
The rabbis scripted various blessings (berachot) of praise and gratitude to G‑d to be recited on all sorts of occasions. There are numerous blessings that are said before one has the pleasure of eating, drinking or smelling fragrances. There are also blessings that are recited before doing a mitzvah. Each category of food or smell, and each mitzvah, has its own prescribed blessing. There are also blessings that are said upon witnessing a spectacular natural phenomenon, like when seeing a shooting star. There are also blessings said when switching from mediocre to great wine, when returning to a place where a miracle has occurred to oneself or to one’s ancestors, when seeing a friend after an extended period of time, when entering a cemetery, when seeing a beautiful person, when seeing certain animals and more.
How to make blessings before foods
3. Washing Hands Before Eating
Before eating bread one must wash one’s hands in a prescribed manner. The reason for this is that sacred foods and Temple offerings may not be eaten in ritual impurity. The rabbis decreed that, since people are constantly touching all sorts of stuff, hands must be treated as though they are impure. The way to rid oneself of this impurity is through this hand-washing. To ensure that the hands will be washed before sacred foods are eaten, the rabbis extended this law and decreed that one should wash one’s hands anytime bread is eaten.
More on why we wash our hands
More on how to wash our hands
4. Eruv on Shabbat
The rabbis placed certain restrictions on Shabbat and festivals. The eruv is a mechanism that makes these restrictions more permissive. There are three kinds of eruvs:
1. On Shabbat, the Torah prohibits carrying anything from an enclosed area to an open area, or vice versa. It is also prohibited to carry for more than four cubits within an unenclosed, public area, known as a reshut harabim. The rabbis extended this prohibition to a less public area, known as a karmelit. Thus one may not carry a baby or a book down a street, from a house to a street, or from a street into a house. The purpose of the eruv is to solve this extreme inconvenience. The eruv transforms the entire area in which one wishes to carry into one enclosed domain. By joining the numerous enclosed and unenclosed domains together, carrying becomes permitted, just as carrying within a house is permitted. An eruv can be made large enough to contain entire neighborhoods, or it can be made around a small area, like a driveway or sidewalk next to a house.
Making the eruv is a two-step process. First a technical enclosure is made of a series of walls, strings mounted on poles, steep hills or wires.
The next step is for everyone living within the enclosure to own food together. This can be accomplished either by collecting a small amount of food from all the Jews who live within the enclosure, or by one person giving ownership of some of his food to the others. Since the area is enclosed, and the residents are sharing food (albeit symbolically), it is considered like one house, in which carrying is permissible.
More on how and why the eruv works
2. The second kind of eruv is called eruv techumin. On Shabbat and festivals, the rabbis forbade one to walk further than 2,000 cubits away from the most outlying residence of a city. If one wishes to walk further than this distance on Shabbat, one must create a temporary residence beyond that outlying residence. This extends the city border and allows one to walk up to 2,000 cubits from that temporary residence. The way to create this residence is by placing food past the edge of the city before Shabbat or the festival begins.
3. The third kind of eruv is called eruv tavshilin. One of the differences between the festivals and Shabbat is that on the festivals one may cook on a pre-existing flame, while all cooking is prohibited on Shabbat. However, even on festivals, one may cook only what will be used during that day, and not with the intent of using the food after the festival. A problem arises when a festival falls on a Friday. When should food be prepared for Shabbat? One may not prepare food on on a festival for the next day, and to cook on Shabbat itself is also not allowed. To resolve this, the rabbis decreed that two food items should be prepared and set aside for Shabbat before the holiday, symbolically serving as the beginning of the preparation of food for Shabbat. Thus, any subsequent cooking done on the festival is considered to be a continuation and completion of the preparation that was begun earlier, and is therefore permitted. The food that is prepared before the holiday for this purpose is known as eruv tavshilin.
More on eruv tavshilin
5. Shabbat Candles
On Friday evenings, right before the beginning of Shabbat, every Jewish home must light a candle (generally at least two) in honor of the special day. Candles are also lit before the onset of Rosh Hashana, Yom Kippur, Sukkot, Shemini Atzeret (Simchat Torah), Passover and Shavuot. The Rabbis introduced this practice to ensure that Shabbat and festivals should be peaceful and calm, without people tripping or stumbling in the dark.
More on why we light candles
How to light candles
6. Purim (Megillah)
In the year 355 BCE, the Jewish nation was miraculously saved from extermination by Queen Esther and Mordechai. The sages of that time, at the request of Queen Esther, instructed all Jews to celebrate a joyous festival called Purim on the 14th (or 15th) of the month of Adar, which is the anniversary of the salvation.
There are four mitzvahs of Purim that are part of the celebration. The dramatic story was written down in the Megillah (Scroll) of Esther. We read the Megillah once on the eve of Purim and once on the following day. The other mitzvahs of Purim are to have a festive feast, to give two gifts of food to another Jew, and to give money to at least two poor people.
All about Purim
7. Chanukah
This festival was enacted on the first anniversary of the victory of the Maccabees over the Greek army in the year 139 BCE. When the Jews returned to the Holy Temple after the war, they found only one small jug of oil with which to kindle the Temple Menorah. Miraculously, the insufficient oil kept on burning for eight days, by which time other oil was imported.
On Chanukah we celebrate the victory of the small Jewish army recapturing the Holy Temple, and the miracle of the small jug of oil.
Chanukah is eight days long beginning on the 25th of the month of Kislev, which is when the Jews jubilantly returned to the Temple to repair and redecorate it, and when the miracle of the oil took place. The mitzvahs of Chanukah are to light the menorah, and to recite Hallel in thanks to G‑d for the miracles he performed.
All about Chanukah
Artwork by Sefira Ross, a freelance designer and illustrator whose original creations grace many Chabad.org pages. Residing in Seattle, Washington, her days are spent between multitasking illustrations and being a mom.
FOOTNOTES
1.Deuteronomy 17:11.
2.There are many rabbinic ordinances that aren’t counted as part of the seven mitzvahs. There is even some dispute regarding how to count the seven mitzvahs. The way they are presented here is widely accepted and is based on the following rationale: In order to be counted as a rabbinic mitzvah, it must be of rabbinic origin and not an extension of a mitzvah that is mandated in the Torah. This is why most rabbinic ordinances are not counted in the list of the seven mitzvahs, because they were put in place to preserve the original 613 mitzvahs of the Torah. The second qualification to be counted is that it must be preceded by the recital of a blessing, which makes it clear that it’s a mitzvah. In the blessing, we bless G‑d who has commanded us to do the mitzvah at hand. Refering to G‑d as the who commanded us to do this mitzvah also makes it clear that it is to be counted as a mitzvah. In other words, all the seven rabbinic mitzvahs are absolutely rabbinic, and unmistakably mitzvahs. Anything else that the rabbis taught is of equal significance, but isn't counted in this list. (You might be asking, “Why than do we count the mitzvah of making a blessing, since it’s not preceded by another blessing?” Great question. The answer, which is beyond the scope of this article, can be found in a book called Mitzvot Hashem by Rabbi Baruch Halperin (Bentscher), in the chapter that discusses the seven mitzvahs.)© Copyright 2016, all rights reserved.
Your Questions
What Is a L’chaim? By Menachem Posner
A Wish for Life
The word “l’chaim” means “to life,” and has been the traditional wish Jews share when raising their glasses in celebration for at least 2,000 years. You can read a fascinating treatment of why that term was chosen here.
In time, the term has come to refer to the act of sharing a glass of spirits, and even to the drink itself. Thus, shot glasses are “l'chaim glasses,” and making a toast is “making a l'chaim.”
An Engagement Celebration
This next bit is going to veer a bit off course, so please bear with me. In ancient times, it was customary for a Jewish couple to become legally “engaged” a full year before they would marry. During this time, the bride and groom were considered married, but they did not yet live together. This quasi-married state was known as erusin.
With the destruction of the Temple and the disruption of Jewish life at that time, this became increasingly difficult. What would happen if the bride or the groom were captured, or needed to flee from marauders during the year-long wait?
Thus, it was decided that the erusin should take place in tandem with the marriage itself, and be performed almost immediately before the seven blessings are recited and the couple is joined in full matrimony.
But what was to happen to the engagement? At the time when the two parties decided to go forward with the wedding, a contract was drawn up specifying the date of the wedding and other considerations.
But that, too, presented its share of difficulties. Backing out of a contract is no simple matter, on a legal or a spiritual plane. It has therefore become customary in many communities to delay the (largely perfunctory) contract signing to the wedding day as well.
So what is left for the engagement? A verbal commitment, called a “vort” in Yiddish. Thus, a sit-down engagement celebration has come to be known as a “vort.”
Since the occasion will most certainly be celebrated over a glass of firewater and a hearty wish of “l'chaim,” a smaller, more informal party is often called a “l'chaim.”
So now you know:
● If someone invites you to come to a l'chaim, get your party clothes ready.
● If someone invites you to make a l'chaim, get ready for a shot of good stuff and think of something nice to say in return. (If you’re invited to make multiple l'chaims, look for a designated driver.)
Rabbi Menachem Posner serves as staff editor for Chabad.org.
Artwork by Sefira Ross, a freelance designer and illustrator whose original creations grace many Chabad.org pages. Residing in Seattle, Washington, her days are spent between multitasking illustrations and being a mom.© Copyright 2016, all rights reserved.
VIDEO
The Land of Our Inheritance
The open miracles that G-d has shown the Jewish people in the Holy Land in our own times are a powerful reminder of its importance and centrality to the entire nation.
Watch (5:59)
http://www.chabad.org/3482608
In Search of Holiness
There's the standard definitions of what holiness is. And then here's this novel perspective that will blow your mind and change your way of thinking.
By Chana Weisberg
Watch (2:26)
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The Man Who Saved the Kidnapped Girl
A chassidic story on seizing the opportunity to help another
By Yossy Gordon
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How It Feels to Take Your Picture With Thousands of Rabbis
A glimpse into the making of the group picture of the thousands of Chabad-Lubavitch emissaries from around the world, which captures their united focus of mission and shared sense of pride and confidence in their life work.
Watch (3:53)
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CELEBRATING THE INTERNATIONAL CONFERENCE OF CHABAD LUBAVITCH EMISSARIESCelebrating the International Conference of Chabad Lubavitch Emissaries
Test Yourself: How Well Do You Know the Chabad Shluchim?© Copyright 2016, all rights reserved.
Celebrating the International Conference of Chabad Lubavitch Emissaries
The History of the Annual Conference
by Mendel Alperowitz
Some 5,200 Chabad rabbis and guests from 86 different countries attended the Sunday-night gala banquet that concluded the 2015 International Conference of Chabad-Lubavitch Emissaries. (Photo: Eliyahu Parypa/Chabad.org).
FOOTNOTES
1.Hisvaduyos 5743, Vol. 4 Pg. 1907.
2.Hisvaduyos 5744, Vol. 1 Pg. 520 - 526.
3.Sefer Hasichos 5747, Vol. 1, Pg. 95.
4.Sefer Hasichos 5748, vol. 1, Pg. 101 – 102.
5.Hisvaduyos 5749, Vol. 1, Pg. 365.
6.Hisvaduyos 5750, Vol 1, Pg. 395.
7.Sefer Hasichos 5750, Vol 1, Pg. 140.
8.Sefer Hasichos 5751, Vol 1, Pg. 153.
9.Sefer Hasichos 5752 Pg. 97.
10.Hisvaduyos 5743, Vol. 4 Pg. 1907.
11.
See dedication page, Sefer Hashluchim, Vol. 1.
12.Sota, 11b.
13.Sichos Kodesh 5741 Vol. 2, Pg. 541.© Copyright 2016, all rights reserved.
Women
When My Faith Fails, I Get Practical About Judaism By Kylie Ora Lobell
I consider myself an observant Jew. I celebrate Shabbat and the holidays, as well as keep kosher and live in a Jewish community. But just because I follow this lifestyle, it doesn’t mean that I never question aspectsI used to live without faith and structure and laws of my faith and belief system.
I think there is a misconception that observant Jews are brainwashed or don’t have their struggles with Judaism. While some people completely dive into it and go to the extreme, most of us are well-balanced and go through our own issues with it.
It’s not that I sometimes doubt that there is G‑d, or that He is constantly watching over me. I fully believe in Him. It’s that following all the laws come at a price, figuratively and literally.
For example, every Passover, our grocery bill skyrockets since kosher-for-Passover packaged foods can be quite expensive. As a married woman, I cover my hair according to Jewish law, which doesn’t always make me feel pretty or comfortable. When my husband and I are on the road on tour (he’s a comedian), it can be difficult to find kosher food. I don’t get to go to a lot of fun events because they’re held on Friday nights. For reasons of modesty, I wear a skirt all the time, even at the gym—and it’s not easy working out in a skirt.
It can also be very isolating to live this lifestyle. I’m in Los Angeles, and there are a lot of conflicting values that don’t match up with my beliefs, like always putting one’s career first and delaying having children for a long time. I haven’t worn pants in years, unlike many of my friends and peers who wear pants and shorts every day. When I go to a networking event, I usually can’t eat the food, even if it’s through a Jewish, but nontraditional, organization.
Sometimes, I think: “If I just stopped being observant, things might be better.” I think about going out on Shabbat again, eating nonkosher food and uncovering my hair.
And then I get depressed when I realize how empty all of that would feel. Before I converted to Judaism, I used to live without faith and structure and laws. I would eat all kinds of nonkosher food, go out on Fridays and Saturdays, and wear whatever I wanted.
And you know what? It wasn’t that great. I felt lost, and without guidance. I was lonely since I didn’t have a community. And I was hopeless about life. I don’t think human beings are meant to live without rules. At least for me, all the choices were overwhelming.
Though there is a huge trade-off to being observant, my life is way better now. And when I struggle with it, I think about the practical parts of being traditional.
Prayer has the power to calm me down and make me feel centered. When I cover my hair, at least to fellow observant Jews, I’m showing that I’m married and off the market.
When I eat kosher food, I’m doing G‑d’s will, and I’m often helping fellow Jews survive financially. I’m also eating animals that were killed in a more humane way than they would be on nonkosher farms. As a chicken owner, making sure animals have a painless death is very important to me. When I can afford it, I buy my kosher meat from organic, free-range suppliers who make sure their animals have a better life as well.
There are several Jewish fast days throughout the year that commemorate tragic events in Jewish history or help us become more spiritually focused. I absolutely despise fasting, but it teaches me that I have self-control. AsI despise fasting, but it teaches me that I have self-control someone who has had lifelong issues with food and binging, it shows me that my brain has the power to keep me away from it for a day.
Although I miss sleeping in on Saturdays, at least I get to socialize at the synagogue with people in my community and enjoy some delicious cholent. If I’m bored during prayer services, I read the Torah commentary, which is always fascinating to me. Even if I relate better to some commentaries than others, there are great lessons to learn from them.
Usually, when I realize what good has come from my life because of Judaism, I feel better about it and get back to the place where I want to be. It’s the place that makes me feel spiritually connected, the place where I want to take on even more observance.
Despite the inconveniences and the expenses, I know I’ve chosen the right path. Because Judaism has given me what nothing else could—inner peace.
Kylie Ora Lobell is a freelance writer and personal essayist in Los Angeles. She writes for The Jewish Journal of L.A., Grok Nation, Aish and Tablet. She has a wonderful husband, comedian Danny Lobell, as well as two dogs, five chickens and a tortoise.
Artwork by Sefira Ross, a freelance designer and illustrator whose original creations grace many Chabad.org pages. Residing in Seattle, Washington, her days are spent between multitasking illustrations and being a mom.© Copyright 2016, all rights reserved.
Women
What She Saw in the Mirror By Elana Mizrahi
Her words surprised me, such a strong, confident-looking woman telling me that she sees herself as weak? She’s the mother of nine children—that’s a woman who went through nine pregnancies and nine births—who has her own clothing business and a beautiful, warm home. Interesting, she didn’t say that she’s tired or overwhelmed or overworked, but weak; the woman actually thinks that she is weak.
I raised my eyebrows in surprise; if that’s weakness, then IHer words surprised me would like to know what it is to be strong! She continued to speak and as she did, she listed all of her inadequacies, the ones she saw in her own eyes. Where was this woman’s negative self-image, her poor self-esteem, coming from?
I took my kids to a children’s museum the other day. Their favorite activity was the mirror maze. You run through a room lined with mirrors. They are not regular mirrors, but funny ones. You know, the ones that make you look really short and wide, or really tall and narrow. The kids giggle and laugh as they see reflections of themselves that are distortions of their true appearance. They are mirrors; the children see themselves, but they know that they are not really seeing themselves—that’s why it’s so funny, that’s why they can laugh.
What happens when you see a distorted image of yourself and instead of laughing, you cry. You cry out in pain because you think that the distortion is real when it’s not. I think back to the woman, the one who sees her reflection in a distorted mirror. She certainly doesn’t see the strength that G‑d blessed her with. Do any of us really see the strengths that G‑d gives us? Or do we listen to the voices inside of us that say, “Nope, not good enough. You messed up. No point in even trying now. You’ll never change or improve. You might as well just give up. Just look at your failure!”
In Ethics of our Fathers (3:1) the sages remind us to always keep in mind three very important things: Know from where you came, where you are going, and before whom you are destined to give a judgement and accounting. We are warned to remember these things so that a person shouldn’t come to transgress. One reads this and says: “Of course, no one would sin if they understood the gravity of what awaits them!” No one could possibly sin out of fear of punishment.
But there’s another very important message that our sages teach us . . . “Know from Where you come from—from a Pure and Holy place, from G‑d! Know Where you are going to; you are going back to Him! The judgement and accounting; this will be on the fact that you lost sight of how pure and holy and good you are, of losing sight that you come from Good and will return to Good.” If we could only look past the distorted images of ourselves and see within—the clear, beautiful, truthful image of who we are—do you know how great we would want to be? How great we could, with G‑d’s help, really be?
Each morning there is a beautiful blessing that a Jew recites:
The soul that You, my G‑d, have given me is pure! You created it. You formed it. You breathed it into me. You protect it within me, and You will someday take if from my body and return it Do you know how great we could be?to me in the world-to-come. As long as my soul is within me, I give thanks to You L‑rd, my G‑d and the G‑d of my ancestors, Master of all Creation, L‑rd of all souls. Praised are You, L‑rd, Restorer of souls to bodies that have died. (Elokai Neshama prayer)
When I think about this blessing, I see the wisdom of the sages who instituted that we say it early in the morning, at the start of our day. No matter what happened yesterday, no matter how low you feel about yourself, we must wake up and start the day realizing that not only am I reborn today, but I am inherently good, and if I can tap into the Source of my existence, I am tapping into all the Strength, Good and Blessing in the world.
I tap into a true and clear reflection that can motivate me to do great things.
Originally from northern California and a Stanford University graduate, Elana Mizrahi now lives in Jerusalem with her husband and children. She is a doula, massage therapist, writer, and author of Dancing Through Life, a book for Jewish women. She also teaches Jewish marriage classes for brides.
Artwork by Sefira Ross, a freelance designer and illustrator whose original creations grace many Chabad.org pages. Residing in Seattle, Washington, her days are spent between multitasking illustrations and being a mom.© Copyright 2016, all rights reserved.
Parshah
Are You A Victim of Your Circumstances? By Chana Weisberg
I love flowers, especially roses. So, soon after we moved into our new home, we planted a rosebush in our front garden. The bush has since grown and now produces beautiful, fragrant red roses every season.
Just be careful if you want to pick them, though! Their thorns, or technically “prickles,” can be nasty. Scientists provide different reasons for why roses need those prickles.
Some speculate that the thorns on roses protect them from being eaten by animals attracted to the perfumed smell in the oils of the petals. Also, the typically sickle-shaped, hook-like prickles aid the rose in hanging onto other vegetation as the rose bush grows. Some species of roses, especially ones that grow on coastal sand dunes, have densely packed straight prickles. These trap wind-blown sand and protect the bush’s roots by reducing erosion.
Whatever the reason, the prickles clearly help the rose bush flourish.
In this week’s Torah portion, we are introduced to our matriarch, Rebecca. Our sages applied to her the verse: “As a rose among the thorns, so is my beloved among the daughters” (Song of Songs 2:2). Rebecca is considered to be the proverbial “rose among thorns,” growing up in a corrupt home and conniving society.
As the rose petals rub against its thorns, the roses emit their pleasant fragrance. Similarly, Rebecca’s thorny background enabled her to become her greatest self.
From a tender age, Rebecca witnessed lying, deceit and duplicity. Yet instead of succumbing to evil and allowing it to become a part of her psyche, it sensitized her to the bankruptcy of a G‑dless way of life.
All too often nowadays, we justify every failing we have by laying the blame on our circumstances. Perhaps we were born into a dysfunctional family that robbed us of warmth and positive emotions; perhaps our spouse is cold or indifferent, and doesn’t provide the psychological support we need and deserve; perhaps our education doesn’t meet today’s standards and career goals, and prevents us from achieving success. While all this may be true, from Rebecca we learn how to thrive despite adversity by utilizing shortcomings to our advantage.
Rebecca didn’t only overcome the negativity of her background; she used its negativity, its thorns and prickles, to develop a keen perception and awareness of evil. This later enabled her to determine the true character of her sons and to make a monumental decision that would forge the path of history when it came time for Isaac to bless them.
Rebeccas’s life story teaches us that sometimes it’s the prickles, thorns and shakeups life so disturbingly throws at us that can bring out the best in each of us.
Chana Weisberg is the editor of TheJewishWoman.org. She lectures internationally on issues relating to women, relationships, meaning, self-esteem and the Jewish soul. She is the author of five popular books.
Artwork by Sefira Ross, a freelance designer and illustrator whose original creations grace many Chabad.org pages. Residing in Seattle, Washington, her days are spent between multitasking illustrations and being a mom.© Copyright 2016, all rights reserved.
Parshah
Noah, Abraham and the Rebbe By Lazer Gurkow
Who Came first?
Christopher Columbus “discovered” America, right? Wrong. Native Americans lived here for thousands of years before Columbus arrived. China knew about America, as did the Russians and Vikings. Only Europe was in the dark. So when they finally joined the party, they got to host it? What a hoot!
The assertion that Columbus “discovered” America highlights a curious claim made by the very first Jew, Abraham. Abraham instructed his servant to seek a wife for Isaac among Abraham’s family in Ur Kasdim. Eliezer asked what to do in case the woman was unwilling to come back with him to Israel. Abraham replied, “The L‑rd, G‑d of heavens, who took me from my father's house … will send His angel before you.”1
Rashi, the eleventh century commentator, wondered why Abraham described G‑d as the G‑d of heaven, rather than the G‑d of earth. According to Rashi, Abraham said to Eliezer, “Now G‑d is indeed the G‑d of earth, because I popularized him among the people, but when I left my father’s home, G‑d was not yet the G‑d of earth, because back then, the people didn’t know Him and His name was uncommon.”
Abraham was vigorously opposed to idol worship and traveled widely to teach the masses about G‑d. It was not without reason that Abraham took credit for popularizing G‑d’s name in the region. But hold on just a minute, Abraham. What of the scholars that came before you? Noah studied the Torah, as did his descendants Shem and Eber. You knew this, Abraham, because you studied in their academy! How could you claim that G‑d’s name was unknown on earth until you “discovered” Him?
However, we can’t judge Abraham as we do Columbus, because we know him to be an upright, G‑d fearing, righteous and truthful man. Abraham’s claim did not negate the scholarship of his predecessors, but it did highlight the uniqueness of his approach.
To Seek or Not to Seek
The key difference between Noah and Abraham was that Abraham prayed on behalf of the people of Sodom, and Noah was content to save himself; he never prayed for the people of his generation. This difference also played out in the way they taught Torah. Noah wanted to study Torah, and also felt it was his duty to teach Torah. He established an academy to welcome eager, sincere students. He welcomed them, but he didn’t seek them out. He welcomed them, but only accepted the sincere students.
Abraham didn’t set up an academy, and he didn’t have a screening process to weed out the insincere. Abraham traveled from village to village, hamlet to hamlet, to find his students. Abraham and Sarah taught Torah to anyone who would listen. Those who were interested, learned a lot, and even converted to monotheism. Those who were not as interested learned a little. But all learned something.
This approach gave Abraham a broad base of students, and though the majority knew only a little, they knew enough to teach their children, and their children had the option of learning more.
Abraham never claimed to be the first to know G‑d. Many knew G‑d before Abraham. But he was the first to teach about G‑d to the masses. Knowledge known to only a few cannot survive. Knowledge made available to many has the best chance of survival. In this, Abraham was the pioneer.2
In America
This weekend, thousands of Chabad rabbis from across the world will gather in Brooklyn, New York, to share, study and inspire. This conference was the initiative of the Lubavitcher Rebbe, of blessed memory, who sent these rabbis to the far flung posts where they serve today.
When the Rebbe came to America, there were centers of Torah study where young and old absorbed a great deal of Torah. Though America’s Jewish community paled in comparison to the European community, there were Torah giants in America. Torah was taught and studied.
The Rebbe did not bring Torah to America, but the Rebbe brought America to Torah. He brought Torah out of the academies and into the streets. The Rebbe’s idea was to reach out and teach people what they wanted to learn. Some learned about Passover, others about prayer. Some learned about Chanukah, others about the shofar. Everyone was to learn something. The broader the base of students, the more entrenched the learning became. And then the Rebbe said, what you learn, you should teach to others.
Many of these students became fully observant and joined the Torah academies. Many still follow that path. But many didn’t. They continued living their lives, as they were, but stamped with the indelible imprint of the Rebbe’s reach. Rabbinic students on busy street corners offering to help Jews put on tefillin, study Torah or learn how to light Shabbat candles became a common sight in almost every metropolis. For many years the Rebbe ensured that the New York Times printed the time for Shabbat candle lighting on its front page every Friday.
The Rebbe never stopped. If there was a Jew in an unknown corner of the world, the Rebbe wanted to know. He sent his emissaries to every location, popular and remote, in America and across the globe.
If you tune in on Sunday night, you will be able to join a live telecast of the gala banquet with nearly 5,000 rabbis and lay leaders. It is the Rebbe’s legacy. His emissaries continue his mission, and today it has spread even further afield.
What was once a pioneering effort of a revolutionary few is now the hallmark of every Jewish organization and community. We have all adopted the Rebbe’s vision of embracing our fellow Jew and teaching what little or much we can. If all we know is alef, then alef is what we teach. But the moment we learn bet, we embark on teaching bet.
The Rebbe followed the model of Abraham, and today the Jewish world has adopted it too. Abraham called out in the name of G‑d. Our sages explained that Abraham did not do the calling himself, he rallied others to do it with him. In his inaugural address in 1950, the Rebbe put his unique spin on this teaching.3 If you want to succeed in calling for G‑d, you must see to it that others call along with you.
This is how the Torah will survive. This is how Judaism will thrive. Not with the model of Noah. Only with the model of Abraham.
Rabbi Lazer Gurkow is spiritual leader of Congregation Beth Tefilah in London, Ontario, and a frequent contributor to The Judaism Website—Chabad.org. He has lectured extensively on a variety of Jewish topics, and his articles have appeared in many print and online publications. For more on Rabbi Gurkow and his writings, visit InnerStream.ca.
Artwork by Sefira Ross, a freelance designer and illustrator whose original creations grace many Chabad.org pages. Residing in Seattle, Washington, her days are spent between multitasking illustrations and being a mom.
FOOTNOTES
1.Genesis 24:7.
2.Darash Moshe, by Rabbi Moshe Feinstein, ad loc. This is consistent with the Midrashic teaching (Bereishit Rabbah 30:7) that Noah did indeed tell others of the impending flood, but only those who asked.
3.End of chapter eight of his discourse, Bati Legani, 10 Shevat, 5710.© Copyright 2016, all rights reserved.
Parshah
Haftarah Companion for Chayei Sarah For an informed reading of I Kings 1:1-31
By Mendel Dubov
Overview
The portion of Chayei Sarah is all about continuity. Abraham has grown old, and the burning question that occupies his mind is the continuation of his family and legacy. Abraham and Sarah’s only son, Isaac, is not married yet. Our Parshah gives us the detailed account of the search and eventual finding of Isaac’s wife, Rebecca.
The haftarah carries a similar theme. King David had been handpicked by G‑d to establish the Jewish kingdom. G‑d had promised him that Jewish kings for all time would be of his descent. As David had many sons, there was going to be a need to clarify who would be the heir to David’s throne. Earlier in his life, David had made it clear that it was Solomon, the son of his wife Bathsheba, who would take over the kingdom after him.
But David had grown old and weak, and was no longer involved in matters of state as he once had been. Taking advantage of this situation, David’s oldest living son, Adonijah (Adoniyahu), thought it was a good time to self proclaim himself as the next king. He was handsome and evidently popular, while Solomon was a mere twelve years of age.1 He went about parading himself with great pomp around the kingdom. He threw a large party and invited a number of powerful and influential people whom he knew would support his cause.
Getting news of this, the prophet Nathan came to Bathsheba and encouraged her to go to the king and implore him to do something. Nathan went in after her, and they both reminded David of his promise and asked him to intervene. The old king reaffirmed his oath that Solomon would be his heir. In the verses following the conclusion of the haftarah, David orders that Solomon be crowned and officially proclaimed as king during his lifetime.
David and Abishag
In the beginning of the haftarah we read how in his old age King David suffered from constant cold. Even many layers of clothing could not warm him. The solution that was effective was bringing in a very beautiful and never-married girl who would serve as the king’s nurse, warming him with physical body heat. Abishag the Shunammite was the girl found fit for this, and she in turn served the king until his death. It is evident from the narrative that the king spent his time with her alone.2
It is important to note that the kind of solution found in Abishag for King David is not usually permitted under Jewish law. It is forbidden for a man to be alone with a woman, even if potentially they are permitted—or even planning—to get married. This is to say nothing of intimate physical contact.
Moreover, it is particularly interesting that it was actually King David himself who had enacted this prohibition. Biblically, it is forbidden to be in seclusion or to have intimate contact with someone one is prohibited to marry. It was David and his court who extended this to seclusion even with someone who one may potentially marry.3 How then could David do this?
The answer that automatically comes to mind is that this was a case of mortal danger, in which most Torah prohibitions are waived. The commentaries explain that it was understood that only someone with the beauty and virginity of Abishag would be able to provide adequate warmth to the king.4 The cold was a hazard to David’s health, and there was no other choice.
This, however, requires further clarification. There are some exceptions when even in a case of mortal danger we do not instruct the violation of certain prohibitions. One such an example is in the following law:
“If someone becomes attracted to a woman, and is lovesick to the extent that he is in danger of dying, although the physicians say he has no remedy except engaging in sexual relations with her, he should be allowed to die rather than engage in sexual relations with her. This applies even if she is unmarried. He is even not to be given instructions to speak to her in private behind a fence. Rather, he should die rather than be given instructions to speak to her behind a fence. These restrictions were instituted so that Jewish women would not be regarded capriciously, and to prevent these matters from ultimately leading to promiscuity.”5
The reason, then, why it was permitted for King David to have Abishag warm him was because the healing to him was the warmth Abishag provided, and it did not involve any motive of a different nature. Since it was a serious health concern, the sages permitted this to him.6
However, from the narrative in the Talmud7 a different story emerges. The Talmud seems to understand that even though it was only Abishag who could warm the king, nevertheless if David married Abishag the same therapeutic results could have been achieved. Moreover, the Talmud states that Abishag actually asked the king to marry her. David declined the request because he had already married eighteen wives—the limit on how many wives the Torah allows a king to marry. The dilemma that faced the rabbinate at the time, then, was this:
The simple solution here would be for David to divorce one of his wives, marry Abishag, and problem solved. Divorce, however, is a sad and terrible thing, regardless of the situation. In view of the fact that this was a case of mortal danger, the sages preferred to waive the “prohibition of seclusion” that they had enacted, rather than having David divorce one of his wives.8 (As mentioned above, this was permitted in the first place because the motive was only the therapeutic warmth, and not physical attraction.)
The supporters of Adoniyahu
The verses identify the key supporters and opposers of the Adonijah conspiracy. Adonijah was backed by Joab (Yoav), David’s general, and Abiathar (Evyatar), the high priest. These men had been devoted to David throughout his entire reign. Why did they join Adonijah, knowing that this was against David’s instructions?
In the past, Joab had taken the law into his own hands in killing a number of individuals who had betrayed David. One of these was David’s son Absalom, who had rebelled against his father. These actions were all against David’s wishes. Joab suspected that David would instruct his heir to punish him for this (which is what actually occurred). By supporting Adonijah, Joab assumed he would escape any such eventual consequence.
Abiathar had an agenda of his own. His ancestor, Eli the high priest, had been told by G‑d that eventually the high priesthood would leave his household. This was because his sons had not conducted themselves as befitting such a position. This had actually come to pass in Abiathar’s time: during Absalom’s rebellion he had attempted to seek counsel of G‑d via the Urim Vetumim,9 but had failed. With this he knew that his time as high priest was up. Since then, it was his colleague Tzadok whom David had recognised as the worthy high priest. Finding it difficult to concede to this, Abiathar turned to supporting Adonijah; this way, the future king might favor him and allow him to keep his position.
The Cause for Adonijah’s behavior
With regard to Adonijah, the verse states: “His father had not angered him all his days, saying, ‘Why have you done so?’ And he too was of very handsome appearance, and she bore him after Absalom.” It is to this that the verse accredits Adonijah’s presumptuous character.
Abarbanel, in his commentary to this verse, explains that Adonijah had not actually done wrong in his youth. He was, however, a royal prince and very good looking. His mother had reared him in the same way as she had her older son, Absalom: in a culture of pride and self-worth. The verse mentions these things, pride and lack of discipline, as the cause for Adonijah’s actions. Even though had done nothing wrong, it was the lack of discipline and humility in his youth which ultimately led to this situation.
The lesson of this for generations to come is self-evident.
Rabbi Mendel Dubov is the director of Chabad in Sussex County, NJ, and a member of faculty at the Rabbinical College of America in Morristown, NJ.
Artwork by Sefira Ross, a freelance designer and illustrator whose original creations grace many Chabad.org pages. Residing in Seattle, Washington, her days are spent between multitasking illustrations and being a mom.
FOOTNOTES
1.Seder Olam Rabbah 14.
2.See verses 4 and 15 in the haftarah.
3.Talmud, Sanhedrin 21a.
4.See Rashi and Ralbag.
5.Mishneh Torah, Hil. Yesodei Hatorah 5:9.
6.Maharsha, Sanhedrin 21b.
7.Sanhedrin, ibid.
8.Iyun Yaakov, ibid.
9.The Urim Vetumim was the method with which a high priest could receive a Divine message. A question would be asked, and the answer would come by means of certain letters becoming bold on the Choshen Mishpat (the high priest’s breastplate). See Talmud, Yoma 73b.© Copyright 2016, all rights reserved.
Chayei Sarah In Depth
A condensation of the weekly Torah portion alongside select commentaries culled from the Midrash, Talmud, Chassidic masters, and the broad corpus of Jewish scholarship.
The life of Sarah was one hundred years, twenty years and seven years (23:1)
At the age of twenty she was like age seven in beauty, and at the age of one hundred she was like age twenty in piety. [Another version: at one hundred she was like twenty in beauty, and at twenty she was like seven in piety.]
Abraham came to mourn for Sarah (23:2)
Where did he come from? He came from Mount Moriah, Sarah having died of grief over the Binding of Isaac.
I am a stranger and a resident amongst you (23:4)
The Jew is a “resident” in the world, for the Torah instructs him not to escape the physical reality but to inhabit it and elevate it. Virtually all the mitzvot (divine commandments) of the Torah are physical actions involving physical objects, in keeping with the Jew’s mission to make a “dwelling for G‑d in the material realm” by sanctifying the everyday materials of everyday life.
At the same time, the Jew feels himself a “stranger” in the material world. His true home is a higher, loftier place, the world of spirit, the world of holiness and G‑dliness from which his soul has been exiled and to which it yearns to return. Indeed, it is only because the Jew feels himself a stranger in the world that he can avoid being wholly consumed and overwhelmed by it, and maintain the spiritual vision and integrity required to elevate it and sanctify it as an abode for the Divine Presence.
“Indeed?” said Rabbi DovBer. “But I don’t see any of your furnishings. How do you manage without them?”
“What do you mean? Do you think that I schlep all my possessions along with me wherever I go? When I travel, I make do with what’s available. But at home—a person’s home is a different matter altogether!”
“Ah, yes,” said Rabbi DovBer. “At home, it is a different matter altogether . . .”
The Cave of Machpelah (23:9)
Rav and Shmuel differ as to its meaning. One says that the cave consisted of a lower and an upper chamber. The other says that it had multiples of couples [interred in it]: Adam and Eve, Abraham and Sarah, Isaac and Rebecca, Jacob and Leah.
Ephron the Hittite answered Abraham: “The field I give to you, and the cave that is in it, I give it to you . . .” (23:11)
Said Rabbi Elazar: The righteous promise little and perform much—Abraham promised his guests “a morsel of bread” (Genesis 18:5) and then “ran to the herd and fetched a calf tender and good, and he hurried to prepare it” (ibid., v. 7).
On the other hand, the wicked promise much and do not perform even a little. Initially Ephron proclaimed, “A piece of land worth four hundred shekels of silver, what is that between me and you?” But in the end, “Abraham weighed to Ephron the silver which he had named in the hearing of the sons of Heth—four hundred shekels of silver in negotiable currency.”
Abraham weighed to Ephron the silver (23:16)
Said Rabbi Yudan the son of Rabbi Simon: This is one of the three places regarding which the nations of the world cannot accuse Israel and say, “You have stolen them.” The three places are: the Cave of Machpelah, the site of the Holy Temple, and the tomb of Joseph at Shechem. The Cave of Machpelah, as it is written, “Abraham weighed to Ephron the silver.” The Temple: “So David gave to Ornan for the place six hundred shekels of gold” (I Chronicles 21:25). And Joseph’s tomb: “[Jacob] bought the parcel of land (at Shechem) for a hundred pieces of silver” (Genesis 33:19).
Four hundred shekels of silver (23:16)
As per Leviticus 27:16, a field the size of a beit kor, which is the equivalent of 75,000 square cubits, represents a value of 50 silver shekels. Thus, the size of the field which Abraham purchased for 400 silver shekels was eight kor, or 600,000 square cubits.
A square cubit (approx. 20 inches by 20 inches) is the space occupied by a single person. This means that Abraham purchased a plot of land that provides an individual “space” for each of the 600,000 souls of Israel.
Abraham was old and come along in days (24:1)
When Abraham aged, he did not merely pass through the days of his life: he accumulated them. Each day was fully utilized, so that they were fully possessed by him.
I will make you swear by the L‑rd, G‑d of heaven and G‑d of the earth (24:3)
But further on (in verse 7) he says, “The L‑rd, the G‑d of heaven, who took me from my father’s house.”
This is what Abraham was saying to Eliezer: “When G‑d summoned me from the house of my father, He was G‑d of the heavens but not of the earth: the inhabitants of the earth did not recognize Him, and His name was not referred to in the land. But now that I have made His name familiar in the mouths of His creatures, He is G‑d in both heaven and earth.”
Before he finished speaking, behold, Rebecca came out (24:15)
Three people were answered by G‑d as their words left their mouths: Eliezer, the servant of Abraham; Moses; and Solomon. Eliezer, as it is written, “Before he finished speaking, behold, Rebecca came out.” Moses, as it is written (Numbers 16:31), “As he concluded saying all these things, the ground split open . . .” Solomon, as it is written (II Chronicles 7:1), “As Solomon concluded praying, the fire descended from the heavens . . .”
The man took a golden ring, a half-shekel in weight; and two bracelets of ten shekels’ weight of gold for her hands (24:22)
A half-shekel—to allude to the shekels contributed by the people of Israel [for the construction of the Sanctuary in the desert], a half-shekel per head.
He gave straw and provender for the camels . . . and there was set food before him to eat (24:32-33)
First he fed the animals, and afterward he was served food. For it is forbidden for a person to taste anything until he feeds his animals.
He said: “I will not eat until I have told of my errand.” And he said: “Speak.” (24:33)
Said Rabbi Acha: The talk of the servants of the fathers is more desirable than the Torah scholarship of the children. For Eliezer’s story, which takes up two or three pages in the Torah, is twice recounted, while many principles of Torah law are conveyed with a single word or letter.
Sarah, my master’s wife, bore a son to my master in her old age; and to him he has given all that he possesses (24:36)
Eliezer showed them a deed of bequest in which Abraham had given Isaac all his possessions, so that they should hurry to send their daughter.
I arrived today at the well (24:42)
From Hebron to Charan is a 17-day journey, and Eliezer made the trip in three hours.
Her brother and mother said . . . (24:55)
But where was Bethuel? He wished to hinder it, and so he was smitten during the night.
We will call the girl and inquire at her mouth (24:57)
From this we learn that a woman should not be given in marriage without her consent.
Isaac went out to meditate in the field . . . and behold, camels were coming (24:63)
Sometimes a person must go to his soulmate, and sometimes his soulmate comes to him. In the case of Isaac, his wife came to him, as it is written, “And he saw, and behold, there were camels coming.” Jacob, however, went to his wife, as it is written, “Jacob went out of Be’er Sheva . . .” (Genesis 28:10).
Isaac brought her into the tent [of] his mother Sarah (24:67)
This verse can also be punctuated “Isaac brought her into the tent—his mother Sarah,” implying that when she came into the tent she became, in effect, his mother Sarah.
For as long as Sarah lived, a cloud (signifying the Divine Presence) hung over her tent. When she died, the cloud disappeared; but when Rebecca came, it returned.
As long as Sarah lived, her doors were wide open. At her death, that openhandedness ceased; but when Rebecca came, it returned.
As long as Sarah lived, there was a blessing on her dough, and the lamp used to burn from the evening of the Sabbath until the evening of the following Sabbath. When she died, these ceased; but when Rebecca came, they returned.
Isaac was comforted after his mother’s death (24:67)
Such is the way of the world: as long as a person’s mother is alive, he is attached to her; when she dies, he finds comfort in his wife.
Abraham took a wife, and her name was Keturah (25:1)
This is Hagar. She is called Keturah because her deeds were now as pleasing as the ketoret (the incense offered in the Holy Temple)
His sons Isaac and Ishmael buried him in the Cave of Machpelah (25:9)
This implies that Ishmael did teshuvah (returned to a righteous life), and placed Isaac before himself.
The Fallen Sword of the Sultan
In the early 1640s, the sultan of the Ottoman Empire made a journey from his seat of government in far-off Turkey to places of importance in his domains.
He made his way to the Cave of Machpelah in Hebron. He entered, adorned in his traditional ruling garb, including the golden sword, studded with diamonds and precious stones, which hung at his side. The Sultan wandered from room to room, finally entering the huge hall named after the Patriarch Yitzchak.The hole is perhaps the most sacred spot in the entire illustrious structure...
The center of attraction in the Yitzchak Hall is a small circular hole in the floor, near the wall shared with the smaller Avraham Hall. The hole is perhaps the most sacred spot in the entire illustrious structure above the burial caves of the Patriarchs and Matriarchs, for it leads down into the caves themselves. Pilgrims from all over the world journey for weeks and months just to have the opportunity to stand by this small, dark, circular opening, leading into the cave, which according to tradition was excavated by Adam, the first man.
The Sultan leaned over the revered aperture, peering down into it. As he bent over, his precious sword fell from his side, down into the cavity in the ground. Hearing the clang of metal hitting the ground, the sultan realized that his sword lay in the caves underneath. The sultan called the officer of the guard and ordered him to lower a soldier through the hole into the caves below, to retrieve his sword.
Quick to respond to the sultan’s order, the officer selected a soldier nearby. Another soldier wrapped a rope around his waist and lowered the soldier into the underground cavern. No sooner had they done so when, without warning, piercing screams penetrated from inside the hole below. Quickly they pulled up the soldier, but he was dead. The sultan ordered that another soldier be lowered into the caves. So it was, and his fate was precisely as his predecessor’s.Quickly they pulled up the soldier, but he was dead.
The sultan continued to send soldiers into the caves, until it became apparent that all who enter the caves do not exit alive. The sultan turned to his hosts and exclaimed, “Who will return to me my sword?” The Arabs, looking at one another, answered without hesitating. “Why not send down a Jew? If he dies, none of us would care, and if not, you will have your precious saber back.” So the Jews were ordered, on pain of death, to supply a volunteer to be lowered into the caves to return the sultan’s sword to him.
The Jews of Hebron had heard what happened to the sultan’s soldiers. How could they send one of their own to his death? They prayed and fasted, hoping to avert the decree. Realizing that they had no choice, they looked at one another. Who would dare to enter the sacred caves of the Patriarchs?
The elderly rabbi of the community, the Kabbalist and sage Rabbi Avraham Azulai, author of Chesed L’Avraham, solved the dilemma. “I will enter the holy caves. Have no fear.” And so it was. After praying and pleading before the G‑d of Avraham, Yitzchak and Yaakov, Rabbi Avraham Azulai immersed himself in the mikvah and dressed in white garments, the traditional dress of the dead. He set forth to the Cave of Machpelah.
With a rope tied around his waist, Rabbi Azulai was lowered into the cave. When his feet hit the ground, Rabbi Azulai looked around him and found, standing by his side, three bearded men. “We are your forefathers,” they told him, “Avraham, Yitzchak and Yaakov.” Rabbi Azulai was dumbfounded. Finally he said to them, “Why should I leave here and go back above? I am elderly, and here I have found my forefathers. I desire only to stay here with you.”“Why should I leave here and go back above?..."
The Patriarchs insisted, “You must return the sword to the sultan. If not, the entire Jewish community of Hebron is liable to be wiped out. But have no fear. In another seven days you will return here, to be with us.”
So the saintly rabbi returned to the Yitzchak Hall, above the cave of the Patriarchs, and with him was the sultan’s sword. The sultan was pleased. Upon seeing their beloved rabbi return alive, the Jews of Hebron declared the day a holiday. Rabbi Avraham Azulai spent the next week with his students, teaching them all the esoteric teachings of Torah. Day and night he learned with them, instructing them, imparting to them all that he knew.
Seven days after being lowered into the Cave of Machpelah, Rabbi Avraham Azulai returned his soul to his Maker, dying peacefully in his home. He was brought to rest in the ancient Jewish cemetery in Hebron, overlooking the final resting place of his beloved forefathers, Avraham, Yitzchak and Yaakov.
Adapted by Yerachmiel Tilles from hebron.co.il
Biographical note:
Rabbi Avraham Azulai (1570–1643) authored the well-known Kabbalistic work Chesed L’Avraham. He is the ancestor of one of the most famous Sephardic sages, Chida (Rabbi Chaim Yosef David Azulai, 1724–1806).
Copyright 2003 by KabbalaOnline.org, a project of Ascent of Safed (//ascentofsafed.com). All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this work or portions thereof, in any form, unless with permission, in writing, from Kabbala Online.© Copyright 2016, all rights reserved.
Story
Kaddish at a Baseball Game By John Yaakov Guterson
My Dad loved baseball games. At the ballpark, we would sit together, eating our peanuts, discussing each nuance of possibility. “Baseball is like poetry,” Dad would say, where innings become rhythms of pace and pause. Father and son, side by side, the diamond before us.
Dad would relish his one beer, after which a touch of foam inevitably appeared on his mustache. This always made me smile. Dad seemed to know everything before it happened: “Get ready for the hitKaddish is something of a marathon and run!” or “Time to bring in the southpaw!” He rejected sitting too close to the field: “Higher seats give you better perspective, John.” Dad was a kid again, all smiles, excited, revved up. How I loved being with him at those games.
Kaddish. Kaddish is what one says when a parent passes. It is the Torah way. Saying the Kaddish prayer, like doing any mitzvah here in our physical world where the deceased no longer can, has the extraordinary ability to lift the soul of the deceased higher and higher. As such, the experience of Kaddish is transcendent, a connection to G‑d, and for me, a connection to my dear father, Mordechai Ber Guterson, who breathed his last on Friday night, Oct. 4, 2013.
Kaddish is also something of a marathon: three times a day at shul for 11 straight months, leading the prayers, praying loud enough so that all can hear and follow. It takes breath, consistency, endurance, resilience. It takes a fastidious rearranging of work schedules and vacations. It takes honor and love.
And if you’re late to shul, by chance, then you’ve missed that moment to say Kaddish. Opportunity lost. I confess to some restless nights, fearful that I would oversleep. For obsessives, a perfect set-up.
Dad, I will not let you down. You and Mom brought me into this physical world; you raised me, made me who I am. I’ll be there.
And Dad, you lovingly wrote to me years ago that although you considered yourself to be a “non-believer,” you were at peace knowing that I would be your Kaddish. You wrote: “It’s always good to have an ace in the hole.” I embraced those words, Dad, like a soldier.
And so it was not by accident that at the end of my 11 months of Kaddish that I went to a baseball game. Celebrate my Dad. Pirates vs. Cardinals. My 10-year-old son and my son-in-law joined me, their presence as buffers for my emotions.
To say Kaddish one needs a minyan, a quorum of 10 men. In the Torah world, we are not alone. Needing nine Jewish men to join me, Rabbi Silverman came to the rescue, as he had already organized a “Jewish college students night at the ballpark” for that very game.
Now, I can’t tell you the names of any of those college students who left their seats in the bottom of the first inning. I knew none of those young men who spared 15 minutes to stand near a 60-year-old, white-bearded son as he paid homage to his deceased father. But there they were—some knew Hebrew, some did not, but that didn’t matter. Simply being there was the key, the power of 10 Jews together.
For without all 10 of us, whether theySimply being there was the key understood fully or not, I would not have been able to say that last Kaddish, the culmination of 11 consistent months, of 990 minyans, of never missing once. And so, as the crowd roared in the background, those nine guys meant everything to me.
As I walked back to my seat, I realized how much my Dad would have loved the whole scene. I could feel him there with me, smiling, thanking me, loving me and then urging me to get back to my seat soon, not to miss another pitch. Tears welled up inside me as I took that walk, another goodbye to my father.
As I approached my seat, there was a 10-year-old boy, wrapped up in the moment, the thrill of a ballgame, pistachios in hand.
He looked up at me with a big smile on his face, and said: “Hi, Dad!”
Dr. John Yaakov Guterson received his medical degree from Albert Einstein College of Medicine. He now resides in Pittsburgh, Pa., with his wife, Amy, where he works as a psychiatrist. Dr. Guterson was honored to speak at this past year’s Kinus.
Artwork by Sefira Ross, a freelance designer and illustrator whose original creations grace many Chabad.org pages. Residing in Seattle, Washington, her days are spent between multitasking illustrations and being a mom.© Copyright 2016, all rights reserved.
Jewish News
Israeli President Visits Mumbai Chabad House, Where ‘Darkness Battled Light’
By Dovid Margolin
Israeli President Reuven Rivlin visited the Chabad House in Mumbai, India, on Nov. 20, marking eight years since the terrorist attack that murdered Rabbi Gavriel and Rivka Holtzberg, four of their guests and 158 others throughout the city. The Chabad House was reopened two years ago, and is led today by Rabbi Yisroel and Chaya Kozlovsky. Here, Rivlin and his wife, Nechama, light a memorial candle at the Chabad House in front of a photo of the Holtzbergs. (Photo: Chabad of Mumbai)
President of Israel Reuven Rivlin attended a memorial event on Monday evening at the Chabad House in Mumbai, India, marking eight years since the devastating 2008 terrorist attacks that killed the center’s founders and directors, Chabad-Lubavitch emissaries Rabbi Gavriel and Rivka Holtzberg; four of their guests; and another 158 people throughout the city.
Rivlin, accompanied by his wife, Nechama, visited the bullet-riddled fourth and fifth floors, pausing in the bedroom of the Holtzbergs’ son, Moshe—spirited to safety by his Indian nanny—before descending to the second floor, where he unveiled a memorial plaque dedicated to the victims. The plaque is next to the office where Rabbi Holtzberg worked.
“The walls [of Moshe’s room] are still covered by the drawings of his mother, colorful aleph bet letters that she used to teach him alongside cartoon illustrations of mezuzahs and Torah scrolls,” described Rivlin after the event.
“Moshe is now with us in Israel, together with his family. Am Yisrael chai [“the people of Israel live”]. And here, in this Chabad House, which is always open and serves as a warm home for Jews from around the world on a daily basis, I think exactly that. The people of Israel live, the entire free world lives, and we will defeat terrorism.”
Rivlin is the highest-ranking dignitary to visit the Chabad House, which is located on a narrow lane in the seafront Colaba neighborhood, Mumbai’s tourist hub. The center was previously visited by Canadian Prime Minister Stephen Harper in 2009, among other public figures over the years.
Chabad-Lubavitch of Mumbai has been under the directorship of Rabbi Yisroel and Chaya Kozlovsky since 2013, when the couple arrived in India’s largest city to continue the Holtzbergs’ mission to support a thriving Jewish life in Mumbai. The Chabad House, which was severely damaged during the firefight between Indian commandos and the Pakistani Muslim terrorists holed up in the Jewish center, was renovated and reopened in 2014. Today, it once again serves as a central address for Israeli backpackers and diplomats; Indian Jews; visitors from around the world; and Jewish businesspeople who live, work and visit Mumbai.
Rabbi Kozlovsky, director of Chabad of Mumbai, shows the Rivlins the devastated remains of the bedroom of the Holtzbergs’ young son, Moshe, who was fled to safety during the attack by his Indian nanny. (Photo: Chabad of Mumbai)
“President Rivlin’s visit tonight was about remembering the lives of more than 160 innocent people who were brutally killed in Mumbai,” says Rabbi Kozlovsky. “It was also a testament to the life and work of Gabi and Rivky. He was showing appreciation for what they did and what they died doing.”
While the Chabad House’s synagogue and social spaces have reopened and are in full use, boasting Torah classes, Shabbat and holiday meals, and synagogue services, the fourth and fifth floors—the sites of the worst bloodshed during the heinous 48-hour-attack—are, together with the roof deck, in the long process of being turned into the first museum and memorial dedicated to the dark events of those days.
“Touring the Chabad House is a powerful experience and a vivid statement,” says Kozlovsky. “It is a place where darkness battled light.”
A ‘Profoundly Moving’ Experience
Since their arrival in the city, the Kozlovskys have thrown themselves into continuing the Holtzbergs’ work, while at the same time pursuing new initiatives and adapting to Mumbai’s ever-changing landscape. They opened a Jewish day school last year in Mumbai—a tall order considering how great an emphasis Indian parents (Indian Jews among them) place on the quality of their children’s education; some Indians can spend as much as half their salaries on their child’s tuition. When Mumbai’s business district moved to a neighborhood on the other side of the traffic-ingested city, Kozlovsky established an offshoot Chabad center to serve Jewish businesspeople, who spend most of their week there.
From left: Chaya Kozlovsky, Nechama Rivlin, President Reuven Rivlin and Rabbi Yisroel Kozlovsky (Photo: Chabad of Mumbai)
But one effort that has moved the rabbi in particular is the Chabad House museum. Designed by Ralph Appelbaum Associates, the firm behind the United States Holocaust Memorial Museum, the Chabad House museum will be a place for people of all faiths to learn and reflect on the attack; on the life of observance and selfless dedication led by the Holtzbergs; and on universal moral principles that find their roots in Judaism, but are applicable to people from all faiths and walks of life.
The targets chosen by the Lakshar-e-Taiba terrorists were busy public places, where they hoped to achieve the maximum number of casualties—that is, aside for the Chabad House. In making their symbolic diversion towards the low-profile Jewish center, the message sent by the terrorists was clear: to transform the Chabad House, also known as Nariman House, into an international symbol of the battle between good and evil.
“The first time I was there, the baby’s toys were still scattered around; it was a scene of terror and sheer, in-your-face Jew-hatred,” recalls Rabbi Abraham Cooper, associate dean at the Simon Wiesenthal Center, whose decades-long work to counter negative stereotypes about Jews in Asia and create avenues of dialogue has led him throughout the Far East, including numerous visits to India. “Even now, you can still see the fight between decency and evil, the holy and the profane.”
A memorial service at the Chabad House in 2009, just one year after the terrorist attacks. From left are: Israeli Consul General Orna Sagiv; Rabbi Avraham Berkowitz, director of the Chabad Mumbai Relief Fund; D. Ramasamy Kaarthikeyan, former director of India’s Central Bureau of Investigation; Rabbi Abraham Cooper, associate dean of the Simon Wiesenthal Center; Swami Gnanatej, senior swami at the Art of Living Foundation; and Father Caesar D’Mello, Rector, Cathedral of the Holy Name at Colaba, Mumbai. (Photo: Simon Wiesenthal Center)
Cooper describes the space as intimate, where tourists can visualize the victims’ horrific and heroic last hours, and appreciate just how miraculous the rescue of young Moshe Holtzberg, now 10, was. He says the museum and memorial will have a powerful impact on Indian society as well, which, with its thousand-year history of no anti-Semitism, had a hard time understanding why the terrorists would attack the Jewish center.
“To re-establish [the idea] that decency will win the day in this place,” adds Cooper, “is profoundly moving.”
Kozlovsky attests that everyone he shows the damaged parts of the Chabad House to comes away shaken and changed. He saw it with Rivlin and the Israeli delegation, and he feels it constantly himself.
“The place speaks for itself,” affirms Kozlovsky. “The first time I walked in, my heart was pumping; I couldn’t process the emotions immediately. But the second and third time I entered the Chabad House, the enormity of what happened here dawned on me. I knew then that we need to sustain that feeling and find a way to share it with as many people as possible—that it should have an everlasting impact on their life.”
The anniversary of the attacks is marked every year and consistently gets much attention from the press. Here, the rabbi and Rivlin field questions.© Copyright 2016, all rights reserved.
Jewish News
Rabbi Elimelech Zweibel, 75
By Eli Rubin
Rabbi Elimelech Zweibel
Rabbi Elimelech Zweibel, the lead instructor in Chassidic thought and practice (mashpi’ah roshi) at Yeshiva Tomchei Temimim Lubavitch in Morristown, N.J., for the past 50 years, passed away suddenly on Nov. 20, the 19th of Cheshvan. He was 75 years old.
Over the course of his tenure, he was a mentor and guide to thousands of students, who loved him for his gentle warmth and dedication as a teacher, and who revered him for the seriousness of his character and for the comprehensive clarity of his scholarship. He was known to one and all by the affectionate moniker, “Reb Meilich.”
Through his classes, farbrengens, encouragement and living example, Reb Meilich gave students the conceptual tools to probe the depths of Chassidic literature, to contextualize Chassidic teachings within the wider history of Jewish thought and history, and to see how these teachings were to be applied in the practical service of G‑d.
Reb Meilich was famous for his uniquely comprehensive erudition. He was a master of Chassidic literature, lore and custom, and a master of Talmud and Jewish law. In addition, he was familiar with the great works of classical Jewish thought and learning, and with contemporary rabbinic scholarship. But part of his greatness as a teacher was that he was also a skilled storyteller. He would use a story to illustrate a point, tell more stories to sharpen the portrait of the first story’s protagonist and then return to round out the point with yet another story.
Many of his students fondly remember trekking through the snowy woods of Morris County to sit around Reb Meilich’s table on wintry Friday nights. Those who made that trip week after week soon entered into a world populated by the living memories of exemplary Chassidim—some more famous, others less so; some who he had known in person, others only by reputation. He didn’t draw anecdotes solely from other people’s lives, but also from his own, and so his students came to know him, too.
From Tel Aviv to Lod, and Back
Even firetrucks, upper left, at the Rabbinical College didn't interrupt Rabbi Zweibel's intensive daily regimen of prayer and study. (Photo: Tzvi Kilov)
Rabbi Elimelech Zweibel was born in Tel Aviv in 1941 to Rabbi Tzvi Yaakov and Hinda Minka Zwiebel. His father was a Chassid of old Sanz lineage who became affiliated with Bobov, a sub branch of the Sanz dynasty. As a child, he attended the Chinuch Atsma’i school in Tel Aviv before enrolling in the Chabad yeshivah in nearby Lod at the age of 11. The latter institution had the double attraction, he would recall, of having a dorm and being situated in an orange grove.
In Lod, Reb Meilich came under the tutelage of Rabbi Shlomo Chaim Kesselman, who had been a student in the original Tomchei Temimim yeshivah in the Russian townlet of Lubavitch. Rabbi Shlomo Chaim placed a great emphasis on avodah, the disciplined subjection of the self to the constant service of G‑d. Reb Meilich described him as “a maivin in avodah”—meaning that he had a thorough knowledge and understanding of how to harness the mind and heart in the service of G‑d, and of how to train young students in the rigors of conscientious self-discipline and effacement before G‑d. Reb Meilich recalled that on returning home after his first stay at the yeshivah in Lod, one of the local Chabad Chassidim met him in the street and asked rhetorically: “So, you know now that all the world is worth no more than an onion skin?”
Rabbi Shlomo Chaim was generally dismissive of his Chassidic contemporaries who devoted themselves with similar single-mindedness to plumb the more theoretical depths of Chabad’s conceptual universe. In 1959, however, the Lubavitcher Rebbe—Rabbi Menachem M. Schneerson, of righteous memory—wrote to him instructing that the yeshivah students compose and publish explanations of Chassidic texts and concepts, and so he reconsidered this attitude. He dispatched a small group of students, including Reb Meilich, to be instructed by two Chabad thinkers of renown: Rabbi Moshe Gourarie and Rabbi Nochum Goldshmidt.
The students understood very little of what Gourarie said. The subject matter was far more esoteric than they were used to, and his explanatory style was characterized by intense abstraction. Goldshmidt’s presentation was far more accessible; they were able to grasp the ideas and coherently transcribe them. But what Reb Meilich remembered best was Goldshmidt’s response when they told him that Gourarie had discussed the Zoharic dictum, “the infinite light extend upward without limit, and downward without end.” “Aha!” exclaimed Goldshmidt. “There he is at home!”
Recalling this episode, Reb Meilich would often explain that every Chassid has his own conceptual prism that he returns to again and again, and through which he approaches and understands the entire corpus of Chassidic ideas and teachings.
An Intellectual and Experiential Eye-Opener
In 1962, Reb Meilich was part of the first group of students to travel from Israel to study in the central Tomchei Temimim yeshivah at 770 Eastern Parkway, Lubavitch World Headquarters, in the Crown Heights neighborhood of Brooklyn, N.Y. Upon arrival, they were quizzed by Rabbi Shmuel Levitin, a senior Chassid and member of the faculty. When he asked if anyone knew where the Yiddish exclamation gevald appeared in Chabad discourses, Reb Meilich immediately responded, citing a discourse delivered by the fifth Chabad Rebbe in the year 1900. Levitin was sufficiently impressed by this demonstration of erudition and shared the news with the Rebbe, who asked for the name of the student in question. At a loss, Levitin could only respond that the student wore glasses, provoking an amused laugh from the Rebbe.
During his time as a student in 770, Reb Meilich became a chozer—one of the oral scribes who memorized the Rebbe’s talks, and oversaw their transcription and publication. Subsequently, he would become a senior member of the team responsible for redacting and merging related talks into the more tightly argued essays that were reviewed by the Rebbe and published under the title Likutei Sichot. These edited essays would eventually fill 39 volumes and stand as the most authoritative exemplar of the Rebbe’s scholarly output.
Rabbi Zweibel, left, with Rabbi Meir Tzvi Gruzman, Rabbi Zalman Gopin and Rabbi Yoel Kahn at the annual Yarchei Kallah gathering of leading Chabad-Lubavitch rabbis in Upstate New York.
Reb Meilich once remarked that listening to the Rebbe talk for hours on end was an intellectual and experiential eye-opener. “At every farbrengen, the Rebbe would speak of atzmut—the essence of divine being that transcends all conception. From Rabbi Shlomo Chaim Kesselman—and even from Rabbi Moshe Gourarie—we never heard anything like this.” The world of Chassidic ideas is vast, ranging from contemplative techniques designed to inspire love and awe before G‑d, to intricate investigations of psychological processes and the nuances of human character, to the esoteric conceptualization of Kabbalistic metaphysics. But Reb Meilich came to understand that for the Rebbe, this vast corpus of ideas all revolved around the single goal of revealing the essence of divine being in the physical world, and in the daily activities of ordinary people.
Emphasizing this point, Reb Meilich recalled two rare instances where the intensity of the Rebbe’s excitement during his talk was conveyed with an exuberant flourish of his raised hands. (Usually, the Rebbe’s hands would remain held tightly together, concealed from most of the audience beneath the tablecloth.)
On one occasion, the Rebbe dwelt on the fact that the very first word of the Ten Commandments, anochi—“I”, which refers to the very essence of G‑d’s own self—is not Hebrew but Egyptian; not the holy tongue, but the language of those who had enslaved the Jewish people, and whose extreme moral depravity earned them the label “obscenity of the earth.” Emphasizing the seeming absurdity, the Rebbe raised both hands above his head, exclaiming: “Can you envisage this! Anochi is Egyptian!” At the very outset, the Rebbe went on to explain, G‑d wanted to underscore that the purpose of the revelation at Sinai was not simply to illuminate the holy, but to transform even the nadir of profanity through revealing the very essence of divinity.
On the second occasion recalled by Reb Meilich, the Rebbe discussed Chapter 27 of Tanya, which describes a person who resists a negative thought even for a single moment as eliciting a transcendent revelation of divine pleasure that extends throughout all existence. Twirling his hand in an upward sweep, the Rebbe declared: “With one act of self-subjugation, all realms are upturned!”
Marriage and Vocation
In 1965, Reb Meilich married Libby Blesofsky, and in the same year, he was appointed to the faculty of Tomchei Temimim yeshivah in Newark, N.J., which was later relocated to Morristown. When they first met, both parties were initially unsure that the match was right. Reb Meilich’s birthday occurred during this period, and he had a private audience with the Rebbe, as was customary at the time. When he disclosed his hesitations, the Rebbe indicated that he should set them aside. For her part, Libby forthrightly sought the Rebbe’s advice, asking in a written note whether “I should take interest in another option.” The Rebbe crossed out the last words of that sentence and added another line so that the note now indicated that she “should interest herself in a young man whose Torah is a living Torah, which speaks his praises—a chassid, a Torah scholar, a person of good character, etc., and G‑d will make her successful.”
Dancing with students in 1978 (5738)
Taking up his faculty position, Reb Meilich sought advice from the Rebbe regarding his personal curriculum of study. The latter pointed out that few yeshivah graduates ever achieve comprehensive knowledge of the Codes of Jewish Law—Tur, Shulchan Aruch and their many commentaries—and suggested that this would be a good personal goal. Over the course of the next 50 years, Reb Meilich kept up a rigorous program of study. His days ran like clockwork, and he often spoke of the merits of discipline, deliberation and order. He arrived and left the study hall at the same time each day, and had fixed times for eating, for meeting with students and for each of his many personal learning schedules.
In more recent decades, he only taught classes in Chassidism, rather than in Talmud or halachah. Yet he continued to study the Talmudic texts and commentaries that were on the yeshivah curriculum, returning to them anew year after year. And though there were Chassidic discourses that he likewise taught to one group of students after another, he never allowed himself to rely on his existing knowledge and enter a class unprepared. He was a perpetual student, capable of relearning and revisiting a text many times, always alert to unnoticed nuances and open to new discoveries. In more recent years, he often used an iPod stocked with audio recordings of the Rebbe’s talks. Always curious to hear from others, he would occasionally listen to classes in Chassidism from Rabbi Yoel Kahn, and in Talmud from Rabbi Asher Arieli or Rabbi Eliyahu Baruch Finkel.
From 1972 on, Reb Meilich headed the editorial staff of a scholarly journal, He’orot Anash Ve-ha-temimim, established primarily as a forum for the study and discussion of the Rebbe’s teachings. This journal, and others like it, would become a prime medium for scholarly interface—not only among the yeshivah students and other Chassidim, but also between them and the Rebbe himself. From the outset, the Rebbe took an active interest in these publications, and with the passage of time he began to respond to them in his public talks, and later to write notes and responses in their margins. Reb Meilich himself was an avid contributor to these journals, often writing under the pen name A. Rosen. In 2005, he helped publish a volume documenting the history of the Morristown journal, and collecting all the public talks and written notes in which the Rebbe responded to and took part in its discussions.
In the introduction to that volume, the editors noted that initially, some people were opposed to the idea that yeshivah students should critically discuss the Rebbe’s teachings in a public forum, asking questions and offering possible explanations. A rumor even spread that the Rebbe himself was displeased. Erring on the side of caution, publication was briefly halted until a member of the Rebbe’s secretariat called to ask why, and the editors got to work again. But there was still some doubt about what the Rebbe wanted, and so Reb Meilich arranged a private audience with the Rebbe to clarify the matter. He reported that the Rebbe was emphatic in his endorsement of the journal, noting that in response to the question of a certain rabbi, he had personally sent him a copy of the journal, saying, “here you will find your question, and here you will find your answer.”
Reason and Its Transcendence
Those words of the Rebbe—“here you will find your question, and here you will find your answer”—are a deserving epitaph for Reb Meilich himself. As a student in Morristown between 2006 and 2008, I learned a tremendous amount from him. What I found so refreshing was the conceptual clarity that he demanded both of himself and of others. He wanted his students to fully understand the questions, just as much as he wanted them to find answers. What is a good question? Why is it a good question? What kind of answer will meet its challenge and to what degree? He wanted us to use all the human capacity to think, to critically assess an idea, to determine the boundaries of logic, and ultimately, to use those capacities to discover the need to overcome such boundaries.
I recall Reb Meilich repeating Maimonides’ statement that Aristotle achieved the highest appreciation of G‑d that the human mind can achieve unaided by divine inspiration. In his Guide to the Perplexed, Reb Meilich added, Maimonides himself used only the tools of human intellect to probe and illuminate the truth of the Torah. Accordingly, human intellect itself becomes Torah, and before you read the Guide to the Perplexed, you must first recite the appropriate blessings just as if you were reading a passage from the Tanach or the Talmud.
It was Reb Meilich who first introduced me to the tale of Socrates’ death as told by Plato in the Phaedo. He did so during a class on the fifth Chabad Rebbe’s landmark series of discourses, known as Samach Vov, which re-examines the purpose of existence and the respective roles of immanent rationalism and transcendent revelation. And he did so with a Chassidic twist that he had heard from the Chassid Rabbi Avraham Drizin (Mayorer): Having proven the eternity of the soul, Socrates made no sacrifice, but exchanged the deficiencies of earthly reality for eternal bliss. The truer sacrifice was Abraham’s. He knew that it is precisely in the transformation of earthly deficiency that G‑d’s ultimate purpose lies. So in surrendering an earthly future, Abraham had to surrender his spiritual future as well, transcending every measure of reason to follow G‑d’s instruction.
A Mentor, Guide and Living Example
Reb Meilich was more than a scholar and more than a teacher. First and foremost, he was a mentor, a builder of relationships, a personal guide and a living example of what a Chassid should be. There were many students who didn’t necessarily attend his classes or follow what he said in them, and yet he was their mentor. He would call students into his office at regular intervals to discuss their studies and their spiritual progress, or simply to find a point of common interest and open the opportunity for a relationship.
As mentioned above, Reb Meilich always kept up with the yeshivah’s Talmud curriculum, and though it wasn’t his responsibility, this was another area in which he found opportunity to forge connections. In his office, he would not only quiz you on what you were learning, but also invite you to open a volume of Talmud and learn together with him. He would test your limits and challenge you, then show you the way to an additional line of thought or to an overlooked commentator to shed incisive light. Students who took advantage of these opportunities to engage and ask questions were continuously surprised not only by the breadth of his knowledge, but also by the fluent clarity and orderliness with which he discussed whatever topic was brought up.
His erudition was only overshadowed by his personal grace. The gentleness with which he carried his gravitas endeared him to everyone and enabled him to have a meaningful conversation with anyone. He addressed each of his students, and all who sought his inspiration or advice, according to their needs as individuals. When I asked him to be my mentor, he gave me a long reading list. He provided my friend, study partner and roommate—Mendy Efune—with a long reading list as well, and the two lists had very little overlap. Two very different personalities—with different qualities, sensibilities and inclinations—needed to be guided along different paths so that they could each achieve what they needed to as individuals.
As a mentor and a guide, the values that Reb Meilich perhaps emphasized most were discipline and consistency as the key to serving G‑d; and the need to form a personal bond with G‑d through contemplative prayer.
He would sometimes illustrate the first point with an anecdote about Rabbi Nissan Nemanow. While traveling by train, he once observed a student of his looking out the window at each station to see if he had arrived at his destination. Said the rabbi: “Rather than look out the window each time, you should make a note of how many stops you need to go and keep count of the passing stations in your head. Why look where there is no need to look?” Disciplined forethought, in other words, allows an individual to avoid unnecessary distractions and maximize the opportunities of every moment.
Regarding contemplative prayer a related anecdote comes to mind. The fourth Chabad Rebbe—Rabbi Shmuel Schneersohn (the Maharash)—once advised one of his followers that if he wants to know what a Chassid is, he should go and observe what his son and future successor, Rabbi Shalom DovBer Schneersohn, is occupied with early in the morning. Following this advice, the Chassid found that the Rebbe’s son was studying the prayer liturgy and consulting the classical commentaries to gain a proper working knowledge of what the prayers mean. The point that Reb Meilich was making was that you can’t expect to have a meaningful prayer experience if you haven’t done the rigorous preparatory work of familiarizing yourself with what you are actually saying to G‑d.
Reb Meilich’s own practice was to pray along with the congregation on weekdays. On Shabbat, however, he would pray at far greater length. He would begin together with the congregation, but would soon be left far behind. He would pause to listen to the Torah reading, and to the repetition of the Amidah and Musaf prayers. Then he would remain wrapped in his tallis for an hour or two after the congregation had finished and the study hall had emptied out, before vanishing into his office.
In addition to his seminal role at the yeshivah in Morristown, his expertise in halachah earned him a place on the executive board of the Central Committee of Chabad-Lubavitch Rabbis in the U.S. and Canada. As one of the foremost contemporary scholars of Chassidic thought and literature, he was also an involved member of the editorial board of Heichal Menachem-Chassidus Mevueres, whose elucidated commentaries to classic Chassidic texts have been received with much acclaim.
In addition to his wife, he is survived by his children: Moshe Zweibel (Brooklyn, N.Y.), Dina Gourarie (Sydney), Rabbi Yossi Zweibel (Brooklyn, N.Y.), Zeldy Oster (Los Angeles), Chani Goldberg (Morristown, N.J.), Rabbi Avi Zweibel (Ashland, Ore.) and Rabbi Mendy Zweibel (Chico, Calif.); as well as by many grandchildren and great-grandchildren.
He is also survived by siblings Moishe Zweibel (London), Devorah Goldberg (Montreal), Zushe Zweibel (Israel), Shoshana Plesser (Israel) and Sara Halperin (Israel). He was predeceased by his brother, Rabbi Yechezkal Zweibel, who headed Yeshiva Tiferet Yaakov in Jerusalem, which was named for their father.© Copyright 2016, all rights reserved.
Jewish News
The Untold Bar Mitzvah Story of Brooklyn Dodger Ralph Branca
By Dovid Margolin
Ralph Branca, the third youngest in a family of 17 children, with his parents, Katherine (Kati) and John Branca
Former Brooklyn Dodger pitching star Ralph Branca passed away on Tuesday morning at the age of 90. Most famous for giving up a 1951 pennant-winning home run to Bobby Thomson of the Dodgers’ cross-town rivals the New York Giants—known forever in baseball as the “Shot Heard Round the World”—Branca played 12 seasons in the majors and was known throughout his life as a first-class mensch.
What is perhaps less well known are his Jewish roots. Born to a Jewish mother but raised Catholic, Branca seldom spoke about his Judaism, although apparently was always aware of it.
“Ralph certainly knew about it,” says his nephew, Bill Branca. “The girls in the family, his sisters; they talked about it quite openly. The boys—Ralph, my dad, their brothers—they didn’t talk about it, but they all knew.”
While Ralph may not have had a bar mitzvah at age 13, he did have one years later, at age 84, when he first met and eventually wrapped tefillin with two Chabad-Lubavitch yeshivah students at his office in Rye Brook, N.Y.
Never Heard of Him
It was the winter of 2010 when Yisroel New and Mendy Marlow were making their weekly Friday afternoon trek from their Chabad yeshivah in the Crown Heights neighborhood of Brooklyn, N.Y., out to Rye Brook in Westchester County. Like thousands of similar Chabad rabbinical students their age around the world, the 19-year-old boys spent their Friday afternoons taking part in the mitzvah campaign of the Lubavitcher Rebbe—Rabbi Menachem M. Schneerson, of righteous memory—visiting Jewish businesspeople at the end of the work week to share a Torah thought for the week, offer Jewish men the chance to wrap tefillin and distribute Shabbat candles to Jewish women.
Arriving at a massive office complex called 800 Westchester Avenue, the yeshivah boys set up shop in the business center’s food court, hoping to meet Jewish business men and women on their lunch break. Two Chassidic yeshivah students in black hats and dark jackets isn’t the most common sight in a suburban office food court, and they met a fair number of curious people—Jews and non-Jews alike—with whom they engaged and often formed connections.
And that’s where they met Ralph Branca.
A signed photo that Branca gave to Chabad yeshivah student Mendy Marlow. It reads: “To my rabbi friend, Mendy,” Branca wrote to one of the Chabad boys after his bar mitzvah. “Shalom!! Lechaim & blessings, Ralph Branca.”
“Every week, we saw this really tall guy sitting at a table during his lunch break reading the paper,” recalls New. They finally approached him.
“You must be the Yiddish boys from Brooklyn,” the tall man told them. They talked; the man was warm and friendly.
Then he introduced himself: “I’m Ralph Branca.”
At the time, the yeshivah boys, to Branca’s surprise, had never heard of him.
“When you get home, you can look me up,” the three-time All-Star told them. “What are you guys doing here, anyway?”
They explained what they were doing, and Branca, who worked at an insurance firm in the complex at the time, invited them to come by his office the next week, telling them he’d round up some of his Jewish colleagues.
‘L’Chaim’ and Other Yiddish Words
The next week, Branca played some offense for the students, calling in his Jewish co-workers and introducing them to the boys from Brooklyn. The visits continued weekly, with Branca always gracious and welcoming, recall New and Marlow, regaling them with tales of his baseball career: He told them about his 3.79 career ERA, how the Giants stole the signs leading up to Thomson’s homer and his career-ending injury.
American major league pitcher Ray Caldwell in the first exhibition game at Ebbets Field, the home of the Brooklyn Dodgers, April 5, 1913. The dirt walkway visible between the mound and the plate disappeared after the 1910s. (Photo: Wikimedia Commons)
New chalked up Branca’s relatively familiar Yiddish-word dropping to the pitcher’s New York roots, having grown up, as he told them, around Jews and Italians. (Incidentally, the Dodgers’ old home at Ebbets Field in Crown Heights was only blocks away from Lubavitch World Headquarters at 770 Eastern Parkway.)
“He was writing his book, and he had this machine that he would dictate into,” relates New. “He was very excited about it. He’d be saying ‘l’chaim’ into it to show you how it worked.”
Branca enjoyed trying out some saltier Yiddish words on his Dragon dictation machine as well.
When he told the boys that he was the third youngest in a family of 17 kids, New balked. Seventeen children in a family sounded more like a Chassidic Jewish family to him—and that’s what he told him.
“Funny that you say that,” New and Marlow remember Branca replying. “My mom was born Jewish.”
‘He Wanted to Know Everything’
Branca’s mother, Katherine (Kati) Berger, had been born to a Jewish family in Hungary, immigrating to America in 1901 at the age of 16 (some of her siblings later perished in the Holocaust). His father, John, was an Italian Catholic, and Branca and his siblings were raised in the Catholic tradition. Of course, according to Jewish law, being born to a Jewish mother made Branca as Jewish as Moses, and that’s what the yeshivah boys told him.
“We hadn’t realized that he was Jewish,” says Marlow, “but everything he knew started making more sense to us.”
Branca told the boys he had never practiced Judaism and therefore did not feel himself to be a Jew. The boys responded that he was still Jewish and offered him to wrap tefillin with him for the first time.
“We told him about the idea of a mitzvah, and how each and every individual mitzvah counts,” says New. “When somebody gives tzedakah [charity], that $20 might not mean much to him, but it means a lot to that needy person who receives it. A mitzvah is the same. It might not mean much to him, but it matters very much to G‑d.”
“This week, I’ll do the tzedakah one,” Branca replied with a smile. As he had done every week, he folded up a $20 bill and slipped it into the boys’ pushka charity box.
New and Marlow were back the next week, again offering to help the right-hander put on tefillin. This time, Branca agreed.
“We wrapped the tefillin with him, and then said the Shema prayer in Hebrew and English,” says New. “In the beginning, it was like he was doing us a favor, but that changed as it went along. He wanted to know everything: Why do we wrap it seven times? Why on his left arm? We pointed out that the way we wrap the tefillin spells out one of G‑d’s names in Hebrew. He was fascinated.”
Branca’s right arm had made him famous, but his left arm had allowed him to pray as a Jew, connecting to the Jewish soul deep inside.
That day, Branca pulled out two photos of himself from his baseball heyday and signed them for his young rabbi friends: “To my rabbi friend, Mendy,” he wrote on Marlow’s picture. “Shalom!! Lechaim & blessings, Ralph Branca.”
Branca in 2004 (Photo: Wikimedia Commons)© Copyright 2016, all rights reserved.
Jewish News
New Jersey Rabbi Provides Thanksgiving Fare for Needy of All Backgrounds
By Eric Berger
Rabbi Eli Kornfeld, left, of Chabad of Hunterdon County in Clinton, N.J., addresses men recovering from addiction, gathered for a kosher Thanksgiving meal last year at the Chabad House. He, his wife Rachel and a team of volunteers are preparing to host another meal this year for about 100 men, along with delivering some 200 kosher turkeys and side dishes to those in need in the community.
Traci Jacob is looking forward to Thanksgiving, even though she grapples with two autoimmune diseases and has neck surgery scheduled for right after the holiday.
Fortunately, the 47-year-old will be able to host a meal with her parents and a friend on Thursday because of Chabad of Hunterdon County in Clinton, N.J. Rabbi Eli Kornfeld, his wife Rachel and volunteers will prepare and deliver a cooked kosher turkey—along with the usual sides of stuffing, mashed potatoes and green beans—to Jacob and others who are homebound.
Jacob, who is on disability and also received a meal last year, says “it makes it a lot easier to bring everyone together. You don’t have to worry about cooking. You don’t have that worry of going out to buy food for the meal, spending money. You have the rabbi and everyone helping you.”
Kornfeld delivered 125 meals last year. He also hosted a Thanksgiving meal at the Chabad House for residents of Freedom House—a local residential treatment facility for men struggling with addiction issues. And he again plans to do so again this week.
It makes no difference whether the recipients are Jewish, emphasizes the rabbi.
“We want everyone to feel part of this day. If it’s meaningful for them, it’s important for an organization like ours to make sure that those who are less fortunate can be lifted up. They should be able to be lifted up in the joys of their community,” says the Chabad rabbi and father of six.
This will be the fourth year that Kornfeld and a host of helpers deliver meals.
Preparing the turkeys for roasting
On Nov. 24, about 30 volunteers will gather in the morning at the Chabad House to help prepare and organize the food. Then they will start driving the meals around western New Jersey until about 3 p.m., when they will return to the Chabad House to help with the meal for the men who are in treatment. Kornfeld expects to host about 100 people and deliver about 200 meals.
“People come out in droves to get their hands dirty—to cook, to prepare, to cut, to peel, to donate—and I think that’s a big part of this. Bringing the community together, [bringing] those that can offer help with those that need it,” says the rabbi.
‘Unite People With Acts of Goodness’
Kornfeld, 39, adds that the program also boosts the significant number of area residents who have been affected by a current heroin epidemic.
Wrapping the cooked meals for delivery
Glenn King was at the peak of his heroin addiction when he entered Freedom House in 1991. He got sober and then started working as a driver for the organization, eventually becoming the executive director.
The nonprofit organization sometimes has “difficulty keeping our doors open,” acknowledges the 58-year-old King. Assistance in the form of the Thanksgiving meal allows the organization to use money that would have gone towards food into requisite treatment.
More importantly, King says, is the joining of various communities—Jews, Christians, African-Americans and Hispanics, among others. This will be the second time that Chabad has hosted the meal. People around the table last year were so appreciative that they stood up and said what they were thankful for; interestingly, reports King, “there was not a disparity [between residents and volunteers] in the expression of gratitude. People seemed to be grateful for some of the same things.”
King notes another important factor: that neither the rabbi nor the volunteers seem to judge residents of Freedom House, which puts everyone at ease.
CTeens helped cook last year for the Thanksgiving Day meals.
Cteens also made signs and decorations for the dinner at the Chabad House.
Kornfeld notes that this year’s meal will be especially important in the midst of concerns about racism and anti-Semitism in the United States. “The desperate hunger for positivity, for kindness, for respect for others is so needed in our country right now, to bridge divides and to unite people with acts of goodness,” he says.
One example of giving back, of performing good deeds, includes the work of the local CTeen chapter. Girls and boys helped cook and pack food last year, and made signs and decorations that welcomed guests to the Chabad House for dinner. They also pitched in to serve the buffet-style meal, alongside other volunteers.
Rabbi Shloime and Chana Greene
CTeen is directed by Rabbi Shloime and Chana Greene, who work to provide educational, social and community-service programs for area teenagers. The young company also boosted spirits on Thanksgiving, as is certain to again this year.
And then there are the benefits to people like Jacob, who in addition to her health problems, which include multiple sclerosis and three herniated disks, lost custody of her children during a divorce when she was struggling with addiction. Still, she awaits Thanksgiving dinner, and then three days later will undergo surgery. She says she has already informed the hospital staff that she would like to see the rabbi afterwards.
As to what she’s grateful for: “I’m very blessed to have the rabbi and Chabad in my life.”
To request a Thanksgiving dinner for someone in need or make a contribution for the meals, contact Chabad of Hunterdon County.
Men from the locally based Freedom House filed into the Chabad House last year for Thanksgiving dinner, as they will do again this year. At left is Glenn King, executive director of Freedom House.
Volunteers, including CTeen members, serve the meal at Chabad of Hunterdon County.
Enjoying a full plate of food
Lining up for the buffet meal
King, right, wrestled with drug addicition before eventually becoming sober and working his way up the organization.
Participants stated what they were thankful for, including the joining together of various communities.
Rabbi Eli and Rachel Kornfeld, and family© Copyright 2016, all rights reserved.
Lifestyle
Food: Chinese-Style Chicken Potsticker Dumplings By Miriam Szokovski
One could argue that pot stickers are The Perfect Food. Crispy on the bottom, soft and tender on top, juicy, plump and flavorful inside... what more could you want? A little heat? That's what the dipping sauce is for!
I wouldn't call this a difficult dish to prepare, but can definitely be time-consuming, especially the first time. So I wouldn't recommend it for an I-just-got-home-from-work-and-dinner-needs-to-be-ready-in-30-minutes meal. But do make it! Save it for an I'm-in-the-mood-for-cooking-and-not-particularly-rushed occasion.
Dough Ingredients:
3 cups all-purpose flour
1 cup water
1 tbsp. oil
1 tsp. salt
Filling Ingredients:
1 lb. (450 grams) ground chicken
3 mushrooms, very finely diced
2 scallions, finely sliced
1 tbsp. soy sauce
1 tbsp. rice vinegar
1 ½ tsp. sesame oil
Directions:
Mix the dough ingredients together until the mixture forms a smooth ball. Cover the dough with a damp towel and let it rest for 30 minutes.
In a separate bowl, combine all the filling ingredients and mix until just combined.
Divide the dough into 4 pieces. Remove one piece at a time and keep the rest covered with a damp towel so it doesn't dry out. Roll the first piece of dough thinly (approximately 2mm or 1/16th of an inch) and cut out as many circles as will fit. Peel away the extra dough and place it back under the towel so you can re-roll it later. (For easy non-stick rolling, roll the dough between two sheets of parchment paper.)
Place a teaspoon of filling in the center of each dough circle. Gently pinch together the sides to form a half-moon shape with pleated edges. (You can find tutorials of this on YouTube if you're not sure how.) Be careful not to overfill, or they will be too difficult to seal.
Set sealed dumplings aside and cover with a damp towel while you work through the remaining dough and filling.
Heat 1-2 tbsp. oil in a frying pan that has a lid (or a wide-bottomed pot). When the oil is hot, place as many potstickers as will fit without touching each other. Fry for approximately 2 minutes, then add a splash of water to the pan (1-2 tbsp.) and cover. Let the dumplings steam through for a couple of minutes so the filling gets cooked. Uncover and leave over the heat for another minute. Remove the largest dumpling and cut it open to check that the filling is cooked. If it is, remove the rest and repeat with the next batch. If it's not cooked through, add another splash of water, cover, cook, and check again. When ready, the bottoms should be crispy, the sides tender, the filling plump and juicy.
Repeat until all dumplings have been cooked. Serve with dipping sauce (recipe below) and a sprinkle of sesame seeds and scallion (optional).
Dipping Sauce Ingredients:
1 scallion, sliced
1/2 chili pepper, sliced
2 tbsp. sesame oil
6 tbsp. soy sauce
1 tsp. rice vinegar
1-2 tbsp. honey
2-3 cloves garlic, sliced
1-inch piece ginger, sliced
sesame seeds
Directions:
Slice scallions, red chili pepper, garlic and ginger.
Whisk all ingredients together.
Serve with dumplings.
Note: The longer the sauce sits, the spicier it gets, so if you prepare it in advance, you may want to leave out the chili pepper and add it in shortly before serving.
Yields: 40 dumplings
Miriam Szokovski is the author of the historical novel Exiled Down Under, and a member of the Chabad.org editorial team. She shares her love of cooking, baking and food photography on Chabad.org’s food blog, Cook It Kosher.© Copyright 2016, all rights reserved.
Lifestyle
Art: Praying for Peace By Shoshanah Findling
This prayer of peace is said every day in the Amidah. It is wrapped around the dove. Her wings are spread so she may fly around the world to spread a prayer of peace for all. In her mouth is a golden olive branch with 12 leaves to represent the 12 tribes. The background is a vibrant mosaic to represent the Jews of all backgrounds. We are all connected to one another by our shared heritage. The eye is a globe to represent the world is watching.
Shoshanah Findling was born and raised in Brooklyn. She currently resides in Hewlett, NY. She is a self-trained artist and graduate professor of education and school counseling at Touro College. She also serves as the president of the Long Beach Art League. She enjoys painting themes of unity and peace. Her use of multiple vibrant colors depict thriving Jewish life and diversity.© Copyright 2016, all rights reserved.
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Chabad.org Magazine - Editor: Yanki Tauber
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What Do Souls Talk About? Chabad Magazine of Brooklyn, New York, United States for Tuesday,
Cheshvan 14, 5777 · November 15, 2016
Editor's Note:
Dear Friend,
They say that the best way to learn is to teach. My second-grade students and I have been studying the lives of Abraham and Sarah, and the stories have taken on a new significance to me as I view them through my students’ eyes.
Woven through the narrative is Abraham and Sarah’s childlessness. G‑d assured them that their descendants would be a great nation, as numerous as the stars of the heaven and the dust of the earth. Yet decades passed before G‑d’s promise of a child was fulfilled and Isaac was born.
Our sages note that the news of Sarah’s pregnancy directly follows the account of Abraham’s prayers on behalf of Abimelech, king of Gerar, and his household. “Whoever begs for mercy for his friend, when he needs the same thing, he is answered first,” this juxtaposition teaches us. Even before Abraham’s prayers drew down G‑d’s blessings upon Abimelech, it brought about the realization of G‑d’s promise to him and Sarah.
How powerful it is when we can look beyond our own circumstances and empathize with the pain of another! Like Abraham, let us offer wholehearted prayers, a listening ear, and a helping hand for friends in need, and may we merit G‑d’s blessings in abundance.
Rochel Chein
responder for Ask the Rabbi @ Chabad.org
Come of Days
“And Abraham was aged, come of days.”(Genesis 24:1)
Abraham, we are told, was not just aged, but “come of days.” Meaning, he entered into his days.
Within each moment of life, whatever it was he needed to do, he invested his entire being.
And so he owned every day of his life. His life was his.
This Week's Features
Greeting the Bride
Kabbalah provides a map of all relationships, from their origin.
The Wedding MaamarGreeting the Bride
Based on the teachings of the Lubavitcher Rebbe, Rabbi Menachem M. Schneerson
The Parshah of Chayei Sarah recounts the story of the first Jewish marriage, that of Isaac and Rebecca. That makes this a good week to present a classic teaching about the meaning of the wedding ceremony.
Introduction
Before the actual wedding ceremony begins, the groom traditionally sits with relatives and friends and says some words of Torah. In many circles, he will discuss the following maamar, which was delivered by the Rebbe, Rabbi Menachem M. Schneerson, of righteous memory, in 1954. In doing so, the groom is inviting the Rebbe to be present at the wedding.
If you listen carefully, you will notice that an entire chain of rebbes are mentioned by name, from the Arizal and the Baal Shem Tov up to the Rebbe’s predecessor and father-in-law, Rabbi Yosef Yitzchak. As they are mentioned, each comes to participate in the celebration.
1. Outer Meeting, Inner Meeting
“Come, my beloved, to greet the bride! Let us behold the Shabbat!”
At the Rebbe’s wedding, his father-in-law, Rabbi Yosef Yitzchak, unveiled the innermost meaning of this verse. He quoted from Pirkei D’Rabbi Eliezerthat a groom is like a king. A bride is like a queen.
In this case, he continued, the groom, the king, is G‑d; and the bride, the queen, is the Jewish People.
That tells us that when the groom and bride meet under the chuppah, it's not just these two souls uniting. We say, “Come my beloved to greet the bride!” and we are inviting G‑d to approach His people with the anticipation and love that a groom feels for his bride.
And yet deeper:
The Kabbalah provides an intricate map of relationships at their origin.The Kabbalah provides an intricate map of relationships at their origin. Zah and malchutare the masculine and feminine of the divine.That’s the ten sefirot, which are the divine, inner soul of every thing in our world. And their interactions are the soul of every communication in the world.
Within the ten sefirot, the masculine and feminine aspects are called zahand malchut.
In our case, zah is the groom, and malchut is the bride—so that we are inviting zah to greet malchut. Under the chuppah, we are uniting the feminine and the masculine aspects of the divine.
In that talk, the Rebbe, Rabbi Yosef Yitzchak, explains that there are two steps to this unification.
In the first step, as zah meets malchut, the effect is all-encompassing, dramatically shifting the relationship. Nevertheless, the effect is only external. Only after that is zah drawn to malchut in an inner way, so that there’s a real, inner change.
In every relationship where one is transmitting and the other is receiving, you will find the same order.In every relationship where one is transmitting and the other is receiving, called mashpiaand mekabel We call the two parties of such a relationship the mashpia and the mekabel.
In the initial meeting of the mashpiaand the mekabel, you could say the outside of the mashpia makes contact with the outside of the mekabel. Yet in that external meeting, the mekabelenters into the world of the mashpia. Now the mekabel is ready to receive in an inner way.
In the maamar, the Previous Rebbe provides two examples of this dynamic. One describes how a teacher relates to a student; the other describes how a father plays with his small child.
These are not just examples of the two stages these relationships pass through. They also describe something very profound about each of these two stages.
First, they tell us that the external meeting provides something that cannot be provided in an inner meeting. Because, in this meeting, the mashpiadoes not need to compromise with the mekabel’s capacity to absorb. That’s why it has such a powerful, all-encompassing effect on the mekabel.
Nevertheless, this is only a preface to the inner meeting. In the inner meeting, the mashpia must constrain himself to provide only that which the mekabel can receive. Yet it's through that inner meeting that they can both reach higher, even beyond that all-encompassing effect.
That’s the meaning of the chuppah. As the Alter Rebbe explains, the chuppah encompasses the groom and bride as one. When that stage comes first, then the inner connection that follows takes them to a yet higher place, a place where the very essence of both of them meet and unite as one.
Now let's look at those two examples.
2. The Joke and the Lesson
The Talmud tells us that a teacher begins his lecture with a joke. Everyone laughs together. Then, when he's actually teaching, the students are sitting in awe, absorbing his wisdom.
On the one hand, the opening joke provides only a superficial glimpse of the teacher's mind. On the other hand, it’s with that small glimpse that the students are drawn into their teacher’s way of thinking. Now they are able to absorb the lesson that follows.
There's a whole Kabbalah to laughter.There's a whole Kabbalah to laughter.The Mittler Rebbe describes laughter as simple, undiluted pleasure. The Rebbe Rashab says that's what we are talking about here. Laughter acts as a kind of chuppah, an all-encompassing effect that is a vital preface to the inner connection that follows.
The inner connection is when the teacher transmits knowledge to the students. There's pleasure there too, but it's diluted by the pursuit of knowledge.
This may seem counter-intuitive, but the point is that the laughter is actually a more powerful transmission, from a more essential place within the teacher, than the lesson that follows.
Nevertheless, when the students absorb the teacher's lesson, truly internalizing it, and the teacher sees that, he experiences an even higher form of pleasure—such a deep pleasure that the teacher and student aren't even aware of it. It's beyond feeling.
That explains the assertion of the rabbis that you learn more from your students than from your teachers or colleagues. Because when your students absorb your teachings and make them their own, that touches the very essence of your being.
3. Father and Child
Next comes the example of a father who wants to play with his little child. The child lives in a different world than the father, down there on the floor. So the father stoops down and picks him up.
The father hasn’t given anything to the child and the child hasn’t yet received anything from his father. Yet, through this uplifting, the child enters the father’s world. Now they can relate to one another.
When the Mezritcher Maggid gave this example, he mentioned that the child plays with the father's beard.The imagery of a child playing with his father’s beard has deep meaning.There's meaning there.
The beard represents the thirteen divine attributes of mercy that are beyond this world—and therefore capable of repairing it. And yet, they are still related to the world. They are, after all, G‑d’s compassion for His world.
In this way, the beard signifies the initial, external and all-encompassing connection—the delight the father shows by just playing with his child. Through that play, when the father begins to teach the child, the connection is much deeper. It reaches to the very core of both of them, uniting them there.
The Tzemach Tzedek explains this dynamic in many places: The initial meeting is actually much more powerful, but it’s the internal union that leads to the core-essence.
4. Beginning the Day Right
We go through this process on a daily basis.
We start the day with our prayers. The rabbis say that if you go out of your way to greet someone before you’ve said your morning prayers, it’s as though you made offerings on a forbidden altar.
The Rebbe Maharash explains: Before you have prayed, you are your own altar.To pray means to no longer be your own altar. Only once you've prayed are you connected to the divine.
To make that connection, the same two-step order applies. First there has to be an external kind of meeting. You reflect on how your soul is captured within a body and a mundane, limiting world. You feel bitter over the distance between you and anything divine.
After that, the prayer itself is an inner connection—so deep that you can now draw the divine into all your daily, material concerns. You can even make them expressions of the divine.
How can prayer make everyday activities divine?
There’s a teaching of the Baal Shem Tov that explains that. The Baal Shem Tov asks, “What’s so terrible about greeting someone before praying?” And he answers according to a teaching of the Arizal.
The Arizal explains why all the siblings have to respect the oldest son. He describes a stream of life flowing from the father through each child, beginning with the the oldest and from there, step by step, to the other children. It comes out that the oldest son is the first, most vital transmission of the father’s spirit, upon which all the other sons depend.
The Baal Shem Tov applies the same principle to your thoughts, words and actions over the day. They all extend, receive life, and are shaped by the very first words you say when you wake.
If so, the first words you say—and the first thoughts, and actions— have to be connected to your divine mission on earth, which is to serve your Maker.Your first words of the day are the channel from which all your other words extend.That way, you bring that divine mission into all your thoughts, words and actions of your entire day.
And that’s no small thing. It says, “There’s tremendous produce in the power of an ox.” Meaning: By harnessing an ox, a human can harvest far more produce. So too, by harnessing the everyday, material world in your divine mission, you unleash the very essence of divine power.
5. Reconnecting the Feminine
All this brings us back to the idea of uniting the masculine and feminine aspects of the ten sefirot. We need to ask the question: Why is it that only when the masculine enters the feminine in an inner way, only then do they both attain something so high, so essential?
The reason is because the feminine aspect of the ten sefirot has much deeper roots than the masculine. The feminine aspect of the sefirot has much deeper roots, in “the beginning that cannot be known.”The feminine is rooted in a place called “the beginning that cannot be known.” From there, it descends into creation, and with that descent those roots become concealed.
It’s up to the masculine aspect, zah, to uncover those roots. And when zahdoes that, then malchut, the feminine aspect, rises beyond zah, the masculine.
Now we can understand why the order has to follow those two steps:
First, zah—represented by the groom— has to be introduced to malchut—represented by the bride— in a way that expresses the advantage of zah’squalities over malchut. What's that advantage? Quite simply, that only zahcan connect malchut back to her roots.
But zah’s qualities are limited, as we explained earlier. So there has to be that inner connection. The whole point of that inner connection is for zah to put its own qualities aside and focus on the qualities of malchut.
It’s only through that kind of connection that we reach the place where malchut is rooted—far beyond the roots of zah. In fact, at that point there’s a reversal, and malchut becomes mashpia to zah.
That’s the meaning of the verse, “A woman of valor is the crown of her husband.” The crown is above the head, and empowers a king to rule.
6. The Two Sides of Shabbat
There’s then two extremes with malchut, parallel to the two extremes expressed in Shabbat.
On the one hand, Shabbat is the mekabel—it receives from the six days that precede it. If you don’t prepare anything during those six days, you don’t have anything to eat on Shabbat.
On the other hand, not only is Shabbat the holiest of all days, but Shabbat is mashpia to all of them.On Shabbat, there’s a reversal, and the feminine empowers the masculine. All the days of the week are blessed by Shabbat.
Why is it that way? Because Shabbat is related to malchut.
Malchut is that divine, feminine force that descends into our world to purify and elevate it, beginning with the animal within us. That labor of purification happens during the six days of work.
But through that labor, malchut—and so Shabbat—rises to a place beyond the six days, beyond zah.
7. Greeting the Bride
Now let’s go back to that verse, “Come, my beloved, to greet the bride! Let us behold the Shabbat!”
As we said, that’s us beckoning zah to enter into malchut.
So the first step is just that zah should come to greet malchut. But through that, zah comes to behold the inner beauty of malchut, as she is rooted much higher than zah.
That’s why we say “Let us behold the Shabbat!” Us—in plural. Because not only will malchut be connected to her original place, but zah will also receive from that origin of malchut, through malchut.
And that’s the way it works with every mashpia and mekabel—there’s this reversal at the end of the process.With every mashpia and mekabel there’s a reversal at the end of the process. By connecting the mekabel to her roots, the mashpia attains something he cannot get on his own—as in the example of the teacher who gains more from his students than from any teacher or colleague.
It’s especially so with a groom and bride. At that point where the groom puts himself aside so that there can be an inner connection with the bride, that’s when a woman of valor becomes the crown of her husband.
Through that, an infinite light is brought into the world, which is manifest through upright and blessed children and children’s children occupied with Torah and mitzvos.
Published on the occasion of the wedding of Michoel Dovid Freeman to Chaya Mushka Fogelman.
BASED ON THE TEACHINGS OF THE LUBAVITCHER REBBE, RABBI MENACHEM M. SCHNEERSON
An essay of the Lubavitcher Rebbe, of righteous memory; adapted by Tzvi Freeman. Special thanks to Rabbi Avraham Altein for his review, insights and emendations.
Artwork by Sefira Ross, a freelance designer and illustrator whose original creations grace many Chabad.org pages. Residing in Seattle, Washington, her days are spent between multitasking illustrations and being a mom.
Your Questions
Is This Month Cheshvan or Marcheshvan? By Yehuda Shurpin
I’m confused about the name of this Jewish month. Some call it “Cheshvan” and others say “Marcheshvan.” To complicate matters, on your own site, you have it both ways. So what is the correct name for this month, Cheshvan or Marcheshvan?
Reply
The Jerusalem Talmud informs us that “the names of the months came up with us from Babylonia.”1 Until the Babylonian exile, the months were either known by their number, e.g., “the first month,” or by names that are not commonly used nowadays. In fact, in the Book of Kings, this month is called “the month of Bul, the eighth month,”2 counting from the springtime month of Nissan.
The post-Babylonian-exile Scriptures (such as Esther and Nechemia), while mentioning other months, never mention this month, so there is no clear scriptural inference one way or the other.
Some suggest that “Marcheshvan” appears to come from the Akkadian word meaning “the eighth month.” 3
Marcheshvan vs. Cheshvan
Throughout the Mishnah4 and Talmud,5 and many later works, the month is called Marcheshvan. This is also the case when dating Jewish legal documents or when blessing the new month.6
On the other hand, we find that in the oldest extant esoteric work, Sefer Yetzirah (the Book of Formation)—a book that predates and is mentioned in the Talmud7—this month is referred to as Cheshvan.8 The Zohar likewise calls this month Cheshvan. 9 And this is how it is usually called in everyday speech.
So why the discrepancy? Because there is a difference of opinion whether the month's true name is Marcheshvan, or whether it really is Cheshvan and the mar is merely an appellation added to describe the month.
There are a number of explanations offered as to the deeper meaning behind the mar in Marcheshvan.
Bitterness
Some explain that mar means “bitterness” (think of the maror we eat on Passover). The month is seen as a bitter for a number of reasons:
● Coming after the holiday-rich month of Tishrei, the month of Marcheshvan is devoid of any holidays.10
● Sarah (and Rachel) passed away during this month.11
● During the First Temple Era, when the Jewish nation split into two kingdoms, Jeroboam, king of the northern tribes, instituted a pagan holiday in the month of Cheshvan to counter the worship of G‑d that took place in Jerusalem, which was situated in the kingdom of Judah.12
A Drop of Water
Others explain that the Hebrew word mar means “a drop of water,” as in the verse “like a drop (mar) from a bucket.”13 It is in this month that Jews in the land of Israel begin praying for rain. Thus, we say maras a prayer for rain.14 Additionally, the Mabul (Great Flood) in the times of Noah began in this month.15
(Interestingly, commentators point out that the original name for the month found in Scriptures, “Bul,” is also a reference to the Mabul.16)
Head or Master
Some explain that, on the contrary, the mar in Marcheshvan actually has a positive connotation, as the word mar can mean the honorific “Master.” This honorific is given since this is the month that King Solomon finished building the First Temple.17
In truth, there is an element of bitterness here as well, for although it was finished then, the Temple wasn’t dedicated until later, leaving the month bereft of a possible holiday.
Despite the dedication of the First Temple not being in the month of Marcheshvan, the Midrash relates that the Third Temple will be dedicated in this month.18 Thus, not only will it not be a “bitter” month, on the contrary, it will be a month of rejoicing!19 May it be speedily in our days!
Rabbi Yehuda Shurpin responds to questions for Chabad.org's Ask the Rabbi service.
FOOTNOTES
1.Jerusalem Talmud, Rosh Hashanah 1:2.
2.I Kings 6:38.
3.Thus it would be related to the words Merach-Shwan: Merach - month and Shwan - eight.See however the Aruch Hashalem where he suggests that it is Merachesh-Van; Merachesh (flows) Van (water).
4.Mishnah Taanit 1:3-4.
5.See, for example, Talmud, Rosh Hashanah 7a.
6.See, however, Minhagei Vermaisa 234, which says that the people of Worms, Germany, had the custom to call the month Cheshvan when blessing the month.
7.See, for example, Talmud Sanhedrin 65b.
8.Sefer Yetzirah 5:4.
9.See, for example, Zohar 2:275b, 3:260b, Zohar Chodosh 42a.
10.See Sdei Chemed, Maarechet Chatan U’Kallah 23.
11.See Esther Rabbah 7:13 and Sdei Chemed, Maarechet Chatan U’Kallah 23.
12.I Kings 12; see also Sefer Hatodaah.
13.Isaiah 40:15.
14.Pri Chadash, Even Haezor 126:7.
15.Opinion of Rabbi Eliezer in Talmud, Rosh Hashanah 11b.
16.Radak on I Kings 6:38.
17.See I Kings 6:38.
18.Yalkut Shemoni, Melachim 184.
19.Torat Menachem, 5742, vol. 1, p. 353-354; Bnei Yissaschar 2:56-57.© Copyright 2016, all rights reserved.
Your Questions
What Are the 7 Rabbinic Mitzvahs? By Yecheskel Posner
G‑d gave the Jewish nation 613 mitzvahs in the Torah. There are seven additional mitzvahs that the prophets and rabbis of the ancient judicial courts initiated during the first millennium after the giving of the Torah on Mount Sinai. The rabbis also instituted many additional decrees for the purpose of preserving the original 613 commandments.
When a rabbinical court institutes a new mitzvah or decree, and it is accepted among the Jewish nation, it becomes a part of Torah and Judaism. In fact, the Torah states, “According to the law they [the rabbinical courts] instruct you and according to the judgment they say to you, you shall do; you shall not divert from the word they tell you, either right or left.”1 Thus the Torah commands us to heed the instructions of the great rabbinical courts.
More on how that works
These are the seven rabbinic mitzvahs:2
1. Saying Hallel
The mitzvah of saying Hallel is to recite Psalms 113-118, which praise G‑d, on certain special occasions.
Hallel is recited on the festivals of Sukkot, Shemini Atzeret (Simchat Torah), Chanukah, Passover and Shavuot to show our gratitude to G‑d for the miracles that we are commemorating at those times. Each of these festivals celebrates the miracles that G‑d has performed for the Jewish nation. One of the ways of expressing our gratitude is by reciting Hallel. By extension, there is an ancient custom to recite a truncated Hallel on Rosh Chodesh (and the intermediate days of Passover).
2. Blessings
The rabbis scripted various blessings (berachot) of praise and gratitude to G‑d to be recited on all sorts of occasions. There are numerous blessings that are said before one has the pleasure of eating, drinking or smelling fragrances. There are also blessings that are recited before doing a mitzvah. Each category of food or smell, and each mitzvah, has its own prescribed blessing. There are also blessings that are said upon witnessing a spectacular natural phenomenon, like when seeing a shooting star. There are also blessings said when switching from mediocre to great wine, when returning to a place where a miracle has occurred to oneself or to one’s ancestors, when seeing a friend after an extended period of time, when entering a cemetery, when seeing a beautiful person, when seeing certain animals and more.
How to make blessings before foods
3. Washing Hands Before Eating
Before eating bread one must wash one’s hands in a prescribed manner. The reason for this is that sacred foods and Temple offerings may not be eaten in ritual impurity. The rabbis decreed that, since people are constantly touching all sorts of stuff, hands must be treated as though they are impure. The way to rid oneself of this impurity is through this hand-washing. To ensure that the hands will be washed before sacred foods are eaten, the rabbis extended this law and decreed that one should wash one’s hands anytime bread is eaten.
More on why we wash our hands
More on how to wash our hands
4. Eruv on Shabbat
The rabbis placed certain restrictions on Shabbat and festivals. The eruv is a mechanism that makes these restrictions more permissive. There are three kinds of eruvs:
1. On Shabbat, the Torah prohibits carrying anything from an enclosed area to an open area, or vice versa. It is also prohibited to carry for more than four cubits within an unenclosed, public area, known as a reshut harabim. The rabbis extended this prohibition to a less public area, known as a karmelit. Thus one may not carry a baby or a book down a street, from a house to a street, or from a street into a house. The purpose of the eruv is to solve this extreme inconvenience. The eruv transforms the entire area in which one wishes to carry into one enclosed domain. By joining the numerous enclosed and unenclosed domains together, carrying becomes permitted, just as carrying within a house is permitted. An eruv can be made large enough to contain entire neighborhoods, or it can be made around a small area, like a driveway or sidewalk next to a house.
Making the eruv is a two-step process. First a technical enclosure is made of a series of walls, strings mounted on poles, steep hills or wires.
The next step is for everyone living within the enclosure to own food together. This can be accomplished either by collecting a small amount of food from all the Jews who live within the enclosure, or by one person giving ownership of some of his food to the others. Since the area is enclosed, and the residents are sharing food (albeit symbolically), it is considered like one house, in which carrying is permissible.
More on how and why the eruv works
2. The second kind of eruv is called eruv techumin. On Shabbat and festivals, the rabbis forbade one to walk further than 2,000 cubits away from the most outlying residence of a city. If one wishes to walk further than this distance on Shabbat, one must create a temporary residence beyond that outlying residence. This extends the city border and allows one to walk up to 2,000 cubits from that temporary residence. The way to create this residence is by placing food past the edge of the city before Shabbat or the festival begins.
3. The third kind of eruv is called eruv tavshilin. One of the differences between the festivals and Shabbat is that on the festivals one may cook on a pre-existing flame, while all cooking is prohibited on Shabbat. However, even on festivals, one may cook only what will be used during that day, and not with the intent of using the food after the festival. A problem arises when a festival falls on a Friday. When should food be prepared for Shabbat? One may not prepare food on on a festival for the next day, and to cook on Shabbat itself is also not allowed. To resolve this, the rabbis decreed that two food items should be prepared and set aside for Shabbat before the holiday, symbolically serving as the beginning of the preparation of food for Shabbat. Thus, any subsequent cooking done on the festival is considered to be a continuation and completion of the preparation that was begun earlier, and is therefore permitted. The food that is prepared before the holiday for this purpose is known as eruv tavshilin.
More on eruv tavshilin
5. Shabbat Candles
On Friday evenings, right before the beginning of Shabbat, every Jewish home must light a candle (generally at least two) in honor of the special day. Candles are also lit before the onset of Rosh Hashana, Yom Kippur, Sukkot, Shemini Atzeret (Simchat Torah), Passover and Shavuot. The Rabbis introduced this practice to ensure that Shabbat and festivals should be peaceful and calm, without people tripping or stumbling in the dark.
More on why we light candles
How to light candles
6. Purim (Megillah)
In the year 355 BCE, the Jewish nation was miraculously saved from extermination by Queen Esther and Mordechai. The sages of that time, at the request of Queen Esther, instructed all Jews to celebrate a joyous festival called Purim on the 14th (or 15th) of the month of Adar, which is the anniversary of the salvation.
There are four mitzvahs of Purim that are part of the celebration. The dramatic story was written down in the Megillah (Scroll) of Esther. We read the Megillah once on the eve of Purim and once on the following day. The other mitzvahs of Purim are to have a festive feast, to give two gifts of food to another Jew, and to give money to at least two poor people.
All about Purim
7. Chanukah
This festival was enacted on the first anniversary of the victory of the Maccabees over the Greek army in the year 139 BCE. When the Jews returned to the Holy Temple after the war, they found only one small jug of oil with which to kindle the Temple Menorah. Miraculously, the insufficient oil kept on burning for eight days, by which time other oil was imported.
On Chanukah we celebrate the victory of the small Jewish army recapturing the Holy Temple, and the miracle of the small jug of oil.
Chanukah is eight days long beginning on the 25th of the month of Kislev, which is when the Jews jubilantly returned to the Temple to repair and redecorate it, and when the miracle of the oil took place. The mitzvahs of Chanukah are to light the menorah, and to recite Hallel in thanks to G‑d for the miracles he performed.
All about Chanukah
Artwork by Sefira Ross, a freelance designer and illustrator whose original creations grace many Chabad.org pages. Residing in Seattle, Washington, her days are spent between multitasking illustrations and being a mom.
FOOTNOTES
1.Deuteronomy 17:11.
2.There are many rabbinic ordinances that aren’t counted as part of the seven mitzvahs. There is even some dispute regarding how to count the seven mitzvahs. The way they are presented here is widely accepted and is based on the following rationale: In order to be counted as a rabbinic mitzvah, it must be of rabbinic origin and not an extension of a mitzvah that is mandated in the Torah. This is why most rabbinic ordinances are not counted in the list of the seven mitzvahs, because they were put in place to preserve the original 613 mitzvahs of the Torah. The second qualification to be counted is that it must be preceded by the recital of a blessing, which makes it clear that it’s a mitzvah. In the blessing, we bless G‑d who has commanded us to do the mitzvah at hand. Refering to G‑d as the who commanded us to do this mitzvah also makes it clear that it is to be counted as a mitzvah. In other words, all the seven rabbinic mitzvahs are absolutely rabbinic, and unmistakably mitzvahs. Anything else that the rabbis taught is of equal significance, but isn't counted in this list. (You might be asking, “Why than do we count the mitzvah of making a blessing, since it’s not preceded by another blessing?” Great question. The answer, which is beyond the scope of this article, can be found in a book called Mitzvot Hashem by Rabbi Baruch Halperin (Bentscher), in the chapter that discusses the seven mitzvahs.)© Copyright 2016, all rights reserved.
Your Questions
What Is a L’chaim? By Menachem Posner
A Wish for Life
The word “l’chaim” means “to life,” and has been the traditional wish Jews share when raising their glasses in celebration for at least 2,000 years. You can read a fascinating treatment of why that term was chosen here.
In time, the term has come to refer to the act of sharing a glass of spirits, and even to the drink itself. Thus, shot glasses are “l'chaim glasses,” and making a toast is “making a l'chaim.”
An Engagement Celebration
This next bit is going to veer a bit off course, so please bear with me. In ancient times, it was customary for a Jewish couple to become legally “engaged” a full year before they would marry. During this time, the bride and groom were considered married, but they did not yet live together. This quasi-married state was known as erusin.
With the destruction of the Temple and the disruption of Jewish life at that time, this became increasingly difficult. What would happen if the bride or the groom were captured, or needed to flee from marauders during the year-long wait?
Thus, it was decided that the erusin should take place in tandem with the marriage itself, and be performed almost immediately before the seven blessings are recited and the couple is joined in full matrimony.
But what was to happen to the engagement? At the time when the two parties decided to go forward with the wedding, a contract was drawn up specifying the date of the wedding and other considerations.
But that, too, presented its share of difficulties. Backing out of a contract is no simple matter, on a legal or a spiritual plane. It has therefore become customary in many communities to delay the (largely perfunctory) contract signing to the wedding day as well.
So what is left for the engagement? A verbal commitment, called a “vort” in Yiddish. Thus, a sit-down engagement celebration has come to be known as a “vort.”
Since the occasion will most certainly be celebrated over a glass of firewater and a hearty wish of “l'chaim,” a smaller, more informal party is often called a “l'chaim.”
So now you know:
● If someone invites you to come to a l'chaim, get your party clothes ready.
● If someone invites you to make a l'chaim, get ready for a shot of good stuff and think of something nice to say in return. (If you’re invited to make multiple l'chaims, look for a designated driver.)
Rabbi Menachem Posner serves as staff editor for Chabad.org.
Artwork by Sefira Ross, a freelance designer and illustrator whose original creations grace many Chabad.org pages. Residing in Seattle, Washington, her days are spent between multitasking illustrations and being a mom.© Copyright 2016, all rights reserved.
VIDEO
The Land of Our Inheritance
The open miracles that G-d has shown the Jewish people in the Holy Land in our own times are a powerful reminder of its importance and centrality to the entire nation.
Watch (5:59)http://www.chabad.org/3482608
In Search of Holiness
There's the standard definitions of what holiness is. And then here's this novel perspective that will blow your mind and change your way of thinking.
By Chana Weisberg
Watch (2:26)<script language="javascript" type="text/javascript" src="http://embed.chabad.org/multimedia/mediaplayer/embedded/embed.js.asp?aid=3425506&width=auto&height=auto"></script><span style="clear:both;" class="lb" id="lbdiv">Visit <a href="http://www.chabad.org/multimedia/default_cdo/aid/591213/jewish/Video.htm">Jewish.TV</a> for more <a href="http://www.chabad.org/multimedia/default_cdo/aid/591213/jewish/Video.htm">Jewish videos</a>.</span>
The Man Who Saved the Kidnapped Girl
A chassidic story on seizing the opportunity to help another
By Yossy Gordon
Watch (2:09)<script language="javascript" type="text/javascript" src="http://embed.chabad.org/multimedia/mediaplayer/embedded/embed.js.asp?aid=3482362&width=auto&height=auto"></script><span style="clear:both;" class="lb" id="lbdiv">Visit <a href="http://www.chabad.org/multimedia/default_cdo/aid/591213/jewish/Video.htm">Jewish.TV</a> for more <a href="http://www.chabad.org/multimedia/default_cdo/aid/591213/jewish/Video.htm">Jewish videos</a>.</span>
How It Feels to Take Your Picture With Thousands of Rabbis
A glimpse into the making of the group picture of the thousands of Chabad-Lubavitch emissaries from around the world, which captures their united focus of mission and shared sense of pride and confidence in their life work.
Watch (3:53)<script language="javascript" type="text/javascript" src="http://embed.chabad.org/multimedia/mediaplayer/embedded/embed.js.asp?aid=3183989&width=auto&height=auto"></script><span style="clear:both;" class="lb" id="lbdiv">Visit <a href="http://www.chabad.org/multimedia/default_cdo/aid/591213/jewish/Video.htm">Jewish.TV</a> for more <a href="http://www.chabad.org/multimedia/default_cdo/aid/591213/jewish/Video.htm">Jewish videos</a>.</span>
CELEBRATING THE INTERNATIONAL CONFERENCE OF CHABAD LUBAVITCH EMISSARIESCelebrating the International Conference of Chabad Lubavitch Emissaries
Test Yourself: How Well Do You Know the Chabad Shluchim?© Copyright 2016, all rights reserved.
Celebrating the International Conference of Chabad Lubavitch Emissaries
The History of the Annual Conference
by Mendel Alperowitz
Some 5,200 Chabad rabbis and guests from 86 different countries attended the Sunday-night gala banquet that concluded the 2015 International Conference of Chabad-Lubavitch Emissaries. (Photo: Eliyahu Parypa/Chabad.org).
FOOTNOTES
1.Hisvaduyos 5743, Vol. 4 Pg. 1907.
2.Hisvaduyos 5744, Vol. 1 Pg. 520 - 526.
3.Sefer Hasichos 5747, Vol. 1, Pg. 95.
4.Sefer Hasichos 5748, vol. 1, Pg. 101 – 102.
5.Hisvaduyos 5749, Vol. 1, Pg. 365.
6.Hisvaduyos 5750, Vol 1, Pg. 395.
7.Sefer Hasichos 5750, Vol 1, Pg. 140.
8.Sefer Hasichos 5751, Vol 1, Pg. 153.
9.Sefer Hasichos 5752 Pg. 97.
10.Hisvaduyos 5743, Vol. 4 Pg. 1907.
11.
See dedication page, Sefer Hashluchim, Vol. 1.
12.Sota, 11b.
13.Sichos Kodesh 5741 Vol. 2, Pg. 541.© Copyright 2016, all rights reserved.
Women
When My Faith Fails, I Get Practical About Judaism By Kylie Ora Lobell
I consider myself an observant Jew. I celebrate Shabbat and the holidays, as well as keep kosher and live in a Jewish community. But just because I follow this lifestyle, it doesn’t mean that I never question aspectsI used to live without faith and structure and laws of my faith and belief system.
I think there is a misconception that observant Jews are brainwashed or don’t have their struggles with Judaism. While some people completely dive into it and go to the extreme, most of us are well-balanced and go through our own issues with it.
It’s not that I sometimes doubt that there is G‑d, or that He is constantly watching over me. I fully believe in Him. It’s that following all the laws come at a price, figuratively and literally.
For example, every Passover, our grocery bill skyrockets since kosher-for-Passover packaged foods can be quite expensive. As a married woman, I cover my hair according to Jewish law, which doesn’t always make me feel pretty or comfortable. When my husband and I are on the road on tour (he’s a comedian), it can be difficult to find kosher food. I don’t get to go to a lot of fun events because they’re held on Friday nights. For reasons of modesty, I wear a skirt all the time, even at the gym—and it’s not easy working out in a skirt.
It can also be very isolating to live this lifestyle. I’m in Los Angeles, and there are a lot of conflicting values that don’t match up with my beliefs, like always putting one’s career first and delaying having children for a long time. I haven’t worn pants in years, unlike many of my friends and peers who wear pants and shorts every day. When I go to a networking event, I usually can’t eat the food, even if it’s through a Jewish, but nontraditional, organization.
Sometimes, I think: “If I just stopped being observant, things might be better.” I think about going out on Shabbat again, eating nonkosher food and uncovering my hair.
And then I get depressed when I realize how empty all of that would feel. Before I converted to Judaism, I used to live without faith and structure and laws. I would eat all kinds of nonkosher food, go out on Fridays and Saturdays, and wear whatever I wanted.
And you know what? It wasn’t that great. I felt lost, and without guidance. I was lonely since I didn’t have a community. And I was hopeless about life. I don’t think human beings are meant to live without rules. At least for me, all the choices were overwhelming.
Though there is a huge trade-off to being observant, my life is way better now. And when I struggle with it, I think about the practical parts of being traditional.
Prayer has the power to calm me down and make me feel centered. When I cover my hair, at least to fellow observant Jews, I’m showing that I’m married and off the market.
When I eat kosher food, I’m doing G‑d’s will, and I’m often helping fellow Jews survive financially. I’m also eating animals that were killed in a more humane way than they would be on nonkosher farms. As a chicken owner, making sure animals have a painless death is very important to me. When I can afford it, I buy my kosher meat from organic, free-range suppliers who make sure their animals have a better life as well.
There are several Jewish fast days throughout the year that commemorate tragic events in Jewish history or help us become more spiritually focused. I absolutely despise fasting, but it teaches me that I have self-control. AsI despise fasting, but it teaches me that I have self-control someone who has had lifelong issues with food and binging, it shows me that my brain has the power to keep me away from it for a day.
Although I miss sleeping in on Saturdays, at least I get to socialize at the synagogue with people in my community and enjoy some delicious cholent. If I’m bored during prayer services, I read the Torah commentary, which is always fascinating to me. Even if I relate better to some commentaries than others, there are great lessons to learn from them.
Usually, when I realize what good has come from my life because of Judaism, I feel better about it and get back to the place where I want to be. It’s the place that makes me feel spiritually connected, the place where I want to take on even more observance.
Despite the inconveniences and the expenses, I know I’ve chosen the right path. Because Judaism has given me what nothing else could—inner peace.
Kylie Ora Lobell is a freelance writer and personal essayist in Los Angeles. She writes for The Jewish Journal of L.A., Grok Nation, Aish and Tablet. She has a wonderful husband, comedian Danny Lobell, as well as two dogs, five chickens and a tortoise.
Artwork by Sefira Ross, a freelance designer and illustrator whose original creations grace many Chabad.org pages. Residing in Seattle, Washington, her days are spent between multitasking illustrations and being a mom.© Copyright 2016, all rights reserved.
Women
What She Saw in the Mirror By Elana Mizrahi
Her words surprised me, such a strong, confident-looking woman telling me that she sees herself as weak? She’s the mother of nine children—that’s a woman who went through nine pregnancies and nine births—who has her own clothing business and a beautiful, warm home. Interesting, she didn’t say that she’s tired or overwhelmed or overworked, but weak; the woman actually thinks that she is weak.
I raised my eyebrows in surprise; if that’s weakness, then IHer words surprised me would like to know what it is to be strong! She continued to speak and as she did, she listed all of her inadequacies, the ones she saw in her own eyes. Where was this woman’s negative self-image, her poor self-esteem, coming from?
I took my kids to a children’s museum the other day. Their favorite activity was the mirror maze. You run through a room lined with mirrors. They are not regular mirrors, but funny ones. You know, the ones that make you look really short and wide, or really tall and narrow. The kids giggle and laugh as they see reflections of themselves that are distortions of their true appearance. They are mirrors; the children see themselves, but they know that they are not really seeing themselves—that’s why it’s so funny, that’s why they can laugh.
What happens when you see a distorted image of yourself and instead of laughing, you cry. You cry out in pain because you think that the distortion is real when it’s not. I think back to the woman, the one who sees her reflection in a distorted mirror. She certainly doesn’t see the strength that G‑d blessed her with. Do any of us really see the strengths that G‑d gives us? Or do we listen to the voices inside of us that say, “Nope, not good enough. You messed up. No point in even trying now. You’ll never change or improve. You might as well just give up. Just look at your failure!”
In Ethics of our Fathers (3:1) the sages remind us to always keep in mind three very important things: Know from where you came, where you are going, and before whom you are destined to give a judgement and accounting. We are warned to remember these things so that a person shouldn’t come to transgress. One reads this and says: “Of course, no one would sin if they understood the gravity of what awaits them!” No one could possibly sin out of fear of punishment.
But there’s another very important message that our sages teach us . . . “Know from Where you come from—from a Pure and Holy place, from G‑d! Know Where you are going to; you are going back to Him! The judgement and accounting; this will be on the fact that you lost sight of how pure and holy and good you are, of losing sight that you come from Good and will return to Good.” If we could only look past the distorted images of ourselves and see within—the clear, beautiful, truthful image of who we are—do you know how great we would want to be? How great we could, with G‑d’s help, really be?
Each morning there is a beautiful blessing that a Jew recites:
The soul that You, my G‑d, have given me is pure! You created it. You formed it. You breathed it into me. You protect it within me, and You will someday take if from my body and return it Do you know how great we could be?to me in the world-to-come. As long as my soul is within me, I give thanks to You L‑rd, my G‑d and the G‑d of my ancestors, Master of all Creation, L‑rd of all souls. Praised are You, L‑rd, Restorer of souls to bodies that have died. (Elokai Neshama prayer)
When I think about this blessing, I see the wisdom of the sages who instituted that we say it early in the morning, at the start of our day. No matter what happened yesterday, no matter how low you feel about yourself, we must wake up and start the day realizing that not only am I reborn today, but I am inherently good, and if I can tap into the Source of my existence, I am tapping into all the Strength, Good and Blessing in the world.
I tap into a true and clear reflection that can motivate me to do great things.
Originally from northern California and a Stanford University graduate, Elana Mizrahi now lives in Jerusalem with her husband and children. She is a doula, massage therapist, writer, and author of Dancing Through Life, a book for Jewish women. She also teaches Jewish marriage classes for brides.
Artwork by Sefira Ross, a freelance designer and illustrator whose original creations grace many Chabad.org pages. Residing in Seattle, Washington, her days are spent between multitasking illustrations and being a mom.© Copyright 2016, all rights reserved.
Parshah
Are You A Victim of Your Circumstances? By Chana Weisberg
I love flowers, especially roses. So, soon after we moved into our new home, we planted a rosebush in our front garden. The bush has since grown and now produces beautiful, fragrant red roses every season.
Just be careful if you want to pick them, though! Their thorns, or technically “prickles,” can be nasty. Scientists provide different reasons for why roses need those prickles.
Some speculate that the thorns on roses protect them from being eaten by animals attracted to the perfumed smell in the oils of the petals. Also, the typically sickle-shaped, hook-like prickles aid the rose in hanging onto other vegetation as the rose bush grows. Some species of roses, especially ones that grow on coastal sand dunes, have densely packed straight prickles. These trap wind-blown sand and protect the bush’s roots by reducing erosion.
Whatever the reason, the prickles clearly help the rose bush flourish.
In this week’s Torah portion, we are introduced to our matriarch, Rebecca. Our sages applied to her the verse: “As a rose among the thorns, so is my beloved among the daughters” (Song of Songs 2:2). Rebecca is considered to be the proverbial “rose among thorns,” growing up in a corrupt home and conniving society.
As the rose petals rub against its thorns, the roses emit their pleasant fragrance. Similarly, Rebecca’s thorny background enabled her to become her greatest self.
From a tender age, Rebecca witnessed lying, deceit and duplicity. Yet instead of succumbing to evil and allowing it to become a part of her psyche, it sensitized her to the bankruptcy of a G‑dless way of life.
All too often nowadays, we justify every failing we have by laying the blame on our circumstances. Perhaps we were born into a dysfunctional family that robbed us of warmth and positive emotions; perhaps our spouse is cold or indifferent, and doesn’t provide the psychological support we need and deserve; perhaps our education doesn’t meet today’s standards and career goals, and prevents us from achieving success. While all this may be true, from Rebecca we learn how to thrive despite adversity by utilizing shortcomings to our advantage.
Rebecca didn’t only overcome the negativity of her background; she used its negativity, its thorns and prickles, to develop a keen perception and awareness of evil. This later enabled her to determine the true character of her sons and to make a monumental decision that would forge the path of history when it came time for Isaac to bless them.
Rebeccas’s life story teaches us that sometimes it’s the prickles, thorns and shakeups life so disturbingly throws at us that can bring out the best in each of us.
Chana Weisberg is the editor of TheJewishWoman.org. She lectures internationally on issues relating to women, relationships, meaning, self-esteem and the Jewish soul. She is the author of five popular books.
Artwork by Sefira Ross, a freelance designer and illustrator whose original creations grace many Chabad.org pages. Residing in Seattle, Washington, her days are spent between multitasking illustrations and being a mom.© Copyright 2016, all rights reserved.
Parshah
Noah, Abraham and the Rebbe By Lazer Gurkow
Who Came first?
Christopher Columbus “discovered” America, right? Wrong. Native Americans lived here for thousands of years before Columbus arrived. China knew about America, as did the Russians and Vikings. Only Europe was in the dark. So when they finally joined the party, they got to host it? What a hoot!
The assertion that Columbus “discovered” America highlights a curious claim made by the very first Jew, Abraham. Abraham instructed his servant to seek a wife for Isaac among Abraham’s family in Ur Kasdim. Eliezer asked what to do in case the woman was unwilling to come back with him to Israel. Abraham replied, “The L‑rd, G‑d of heavens, who took me from my father's house … will send His angel before you.”1
Rashi, the eleventh century commentator, wondered why Abraham described G‑d as the G‑d of heaven, rather than the G‑d of earth. According to Rashi, Abraham said to Eliezer, “Now G‑d is indeed the G‑d of earth, because I popularized him among the people, but when I left my father’s home, G‑d was not yet the G‑d of earth, because back then, the people didn’t know Him and His name was uncommon.”
Abraham was vigorously opposed to idol worship and traveled widely to teach the masses about G‑d. It was not without reason that Abraham took credit for popularizing G‑d’s name in the region. But hold on just a minute, Abraham. What of the scholars that came before you? Noah studied the Torah, as did his descendants Shem and Eber. You knew this, Abraham, because you studied in their academy! How could you claim that G‑d’s name was unknown on earth until you “discovered” Him?
However, we can’t judge Abraham as we do Columbus, because we know him to be an upright, G‑d fearing, righteous and truthful man. Abraham’s claim did not negate the scholarship of his predecessors, but it did highlight the uniqueness of his approach.
To Seek or Not to Seek
The key difference between Noah and Abraham was that Abraham prayed on behalf of the people of Sodom, and Noah was content to save himself; he never prayed for the people of his generation. This difference also played out in the way they taught Torah. Noah wanted to study Torah, and also felt it was his duty to teach Torah. He established an academy to welcome eager, sincere students. He welcomed them, but he didn’t seek them out. He welcomed them, but only accepted the sincere students.
Abraham didn’t set up an academy, and he didn’t have a screening process to weed out the insincere. Abraham traveled from village to village, hamlet to hamlet, to find his students. Abraham and Sarah taught Torah to anyone who would listen. Those who were interested, learned a lot, and even converted to monotheism. Those who were not as interested learned a little. But all learned something.
This approach gave Abraham a broad base of students, and though the majority knew only a little, they knew enough to teach their children, and their children had the option of learning more.
Abraham never claimed to be the first to know G‑d. Many knew G‑d before Abraham. But he was the first to teach about G‑d to the masses. Knowledge known to only a few cannot survive. Knowledge made available to many has the best chance of survival. In this, Abraham was the pioneer.2
In America
This weekend, thousands of Chabad rabbis from across the world will gather in Brooklyn, New York, to share, study and inspire. This conference was the initiative of the Lubavitcher Rebbe, of blessed memory, who sent these rabbis to the far flung posts where they serve today.
When the Rebbe came to America, there were centers of Torah study where young and old absorbed a great deal of Torah. Though America’s Jewish community paled in comparison to the European community, there were Torah giants in America. Torah was taught and studied.
The Rebbe did not bring Torah to America, but the Rebbe brought America to Torah. He brought Torah out of the academies and into the streets. The Rebbe’s idea was to reach out and teach people what they wanted to learn. Some learned about Passover, others about prayer. Some learned about Chanukah, others about the shofar. Everyone was to learn something. The broader the base of students, the more entrenched the learning became. And then the Rebbe said, what you learn, you should teach to others.
Many of these students became fully observant and joined the Torah academies. Many still follow that path. But many didn’t. They continued living their lives, as they were, but stamped with the indelible imprint of the Rebbe’s reach. Rabbinic students on busy street corners offering to help Jews put on tefillin, study Torah or learn how to light Shabbat candles became a common sight in almost every metropolis. For many years the Rebbe ensured that the New York Times printed the time for Shabbat candle lighting on its front page every Friday.
The Rebbe never stopped. If there was a Jew in an unknown corner of the world, the Rebbe wanted to know. He sent his emissaries to every location, popular and remote, in America and across the globe.
If you tune in on Sunday night, you will be able to join a live telecast of the gala banquet with nearly 5,000 rabbis and lay leaders. It is the Rebbe’s legacy. His emissaries continue his mission, and today it has spread even further afield.
What was once a pioneering effort of a revolutionary few is now the hallmark of every Jewish organization and community. We have all adopted the Rebbe’s vision of embracing our fellow Jew and teaching what little or much we can. If all we know is alef, then alef is what we teach. But the moment we learn bet, we embark on teaching bet.
The Rebbe followed the model of Abraham, and today the Jewish world has adopted it too. Abraham called out in the name of G‑d. Our sages explained that Abraham did not do the calling himself, he rallied others to do it with him. In his inaugural address in 1950, the Rebbe put his unique spin on this teaching.3 If you want to succeed in calling for G‑d, you must see to it that others call along with you.
This is how the Torah will survive. This is how Judaism will thrive. Not with the model of Noah. Only with the model of Abraham.
Rabbi Lazer Gurkow is spiritual leader of Congregation Beth Tefilah in London, Ontario, and a frequent contributor to The Judaism Website—Chabad.org. He has lectured extensively on a variety of Jewish topics, and his articles have appeared in many print and online publications. For more on Rabbi Gurkow and his writings, visit InnerStream.ca.
Artwork by Sefira Ross, a freelance designer and illustrator whose original creations grace many Chabad.org pages. Residing in Seattle, Washington, her days are spent between multitasking illustrations and being a mom.
FOOTNOTES
1.Genesis 24:7.
2.Darash Moshe, by Rabbi Moshe Feinstein, ad loc. This is consistent with the Midrashic teaching (Bereishit Rabbah 30:7) that Noah did indeed tell others of the impending flood, but only those who asked.
3.End of chapter eight of his discourse, Bati Legani, 10 Shevat, 5710.© Copyright 2016, all rights reserved.
Parshah
Haftarah Companion for Chayei Sarah For an informed reading of I Kings 1:1-31
By Mendel Dubov
Overview
The portion of Chayei Sarah is all about continuity. Abraham has grown old, and the burning question that occupies his mind is the continuation of his family and legacy. Abraham and Sarah’s only son, Isaac, is not married yet. Our Parshah gives us the detailed account of the search and eventual finding of Isaac’s wife, Rebecca.
The haftarah carries a similar theme. King David had been handpicked by G‑d to establish the Jewish kingdom. G‑d had promised him that Jewish kings for all time would be of his descent. As David had many sons, there was going to be a need to clarify who would be the heir to David’s throne. Earlier in his life, David had made it clear that it was Solomon, the son of his wife Bathsheba, who would take over the kingdom after him.
But David had grown old and weak, and was no longer involved in matters of state as he once had been. Taking advantage of this situation, David’s oldest living son, Adonijah (Adoniyahu), thought it was a good time to self proclaim himself as the next king. He was handsome and evidently popular, while Solomon was a mere twelve years of age.1 He went about parading himself with great pomp around the kingdom. He threw a large party and invited a number of powerful and influential people whom he knew would support his cause.
Getting news of this, the prophet Nathan came to Bathsheba and encouraged her to go to the king and implore him to do something. Nathan went in after her, and they both reminded David of his promise and asked him to intervene. The old king reaffirmed his oath that Solomon would be his heir. In the verses following the conclusion of the haftarah, David orders that Solomon be crowned and officially proclaimed as king during his lifetime.
David and Abishag
In the beginning of the haftarah we read how in his old age King David suffered from constant cold. Even many layers of clothing could not warm him. The solution that was effective was bringing in a very beautiful and never-married girl who would serve as the king’s nurse, warming him with physical body heat. Abishag the Shunammite was the girl found fit for this, and she in turn served the king until his death. It is evident from the narrative that the king spent his time with her alone.2
It is important to note that the kind of solution found in Abishag for King David is not usually permitted under Jewish law. It is forbidden for a man to be alone with a woman, even if potentially they are permitted—or even planning—to get married. This is to say nothing of intimate physical contact.
Moreover, it is particularly interesting that it was actually King David himself who had enacted this prohibition. Biblically, it is forbidden to be in seclusion or to have intimate contact with someone one is prohibited to marry. It was David and his court who extended this to seclusion even with someone who one may potentially marry.3 How then could David do this?
The answer that automatically comes to mind is that this was a case of mortal danger, in which most Torah prohibitions are waived. The commentaries explain that it was understood that only someone with the beauty and virginity of Abishag would be able to provide adequate warmth to the king.4 The cold was a hazard to David’s health, and there was no other choice.
This, however, requires further clarification. There are some exceptions when even in a case of mortal danger we do not instruct the violation of certain prohibitions. One such an example is in the following law:
“If someone becomes attracted to a woman, and is lovesick to the extent that he is in danger of dying, although the physicians say he has no remedy except engaging in sexual relations with her, he should be allowed to die rather than engage in sexual relations with her. This applies even if she is unmarried. He is even not to be given instructions to speak to her in private behind a fence. Rather, he should die rather than be given instructions to speak to her behind a fence. These restrictions were instituted so that Jewish women would not be regarded capriciously, and to prevent these matters from ultimately leading to promiscuity.”5
The reason, then, why it was permitted for King David to have Abishag warm him was because the healing to him was the warmth Abishag provided, and it did not involve any motive of a different nature. Since it was a serious health concern, the sages permitted this to him.6
However, from the narrative in the Talmud7 a different story emerges. The Talmud seems to understand that even though it was only Abishag who could warm the king, nevertheless if David married Abishag the same therapeutic results could have been achieved. Moreover, the Talmud states that Abishag actually asked the king to marry her. David declined the request because he had already married eighteen wives—the limit on how many wives the Torah allows a king to marry. The dilemma that faced the rabbinate at the time, then, was this:
The simple solution here would be for David to divorce one of his wives, marry Abishag, and problem solved. Divorce, however, is a sad and terrible thing, regardless of the situation. In view of the fact that this was a case of mortal danger, the sages preferred to waive the “prohibition of seclusion” that they had enacted, rather than having David divorce one of his wives.8 (As mentioned above, this was permitted in the first place because the motive was only the therapeutic warmth, and not physical attraction.)
The supporters of Adoniyahu
The verses identify the key supporters and opposers of the Adonijah conspiracy. Adonijah was backed by Joab (Yoav), David’s general, and Abiathar (Evyatar), the high priest. These men had been devoted to David throughout his entire reign. Why did they join Adonijah, knowing that this was against David’s instructions?
In the past, Joab had taken the law into his own hands in killing a number of individuals who had betrayed David. One of these was David’s son Absalom, who had rebelled against his father. These actions were all against David’s wishes. Joab suspected that David would instruct his heir to punish him for this (which is what actually occurred). By supporting Adonijah, Joab assumed he would escape any such eventual consequence.
Abiathar had an agenda of his own. His ancestor, Eli the high priest, had been told by G‑d that eventually the high priesthood would leave his household. This was because his sons had not conducted themselves as befitting such a position. This had actually come to pass in Abiathar’s time: during Absalom’s rebellion he had attempted to seek counsel of G‑d via the Urim Vetumim,9 but had failed. With this he knew that his time as high priest was up. Since then, it was his colleague Tzadok whom David had recognised as the worthy high priest. Finding it difficult to concede to this, Abiathar turned to supporting Adonijah; this way, the future king might favor him and allow him to keep his position.
The Cause for Adonijah’s behavior
With regard to Adonijah, the verse states: “His father had not angered him all his days, saying, ‘Why have you done so?’ And he too was of very handsome appearance, and she bore him after Absalom.” It is to this that the verse accredits Adonijah’s presumptuous character.
Abarbanel, in his commentary to this verse, explains that Adonijah had not actually done wrong in his youth. He was, however, a royal prince and very good looking. His mother had reared him in the same way as she had her older son, Absalom: in a culture of pride and self-worth. The verse mentions these things, pride and lack of discipline, as the cause for Adonijah’s actions. Even though had done nothing wrong, it was the lack of discipline and humility in his youth which ultimately led to this situation.
The lesson of this for generations to come is self-evident.
Rabbi Mendel Dubov is the director of Chabad in Sussex County, NJ, and a member of faculty at the Rabbinical College of America in Morristown, NJ.
Artwork by Sefira Ross, a freelance designer and illustrator whose original creations grace many Chabad.org pages. Residing in Seattle, Washington, her days are spent between multitasking illustrations and being a mom.
FOOTNOTES
1.Seder Olam Rabbah 14.
2.See verses 4 and 15 in the haftarah.
3.Talmud, Sanhedrin 21a.
4.See Rashi and Ralbag.
5.Mishneh Torah, Hil. Yesodei Hatorah 5:9.
6.Maharsha, Sanhedrin 21b.
7.Sanhedrin, ibid.
8.Iyun Yaakov, ibid.
9.The Urim Vetumim was the method with which a high priest could receive a Divine message. A question would be asked, and the answer would come by means of certain letters becoming bold on the Choshen Mishpat (the high priest’s breastplate). See Talmud, Yoma 73b.© Copyright 2016, all rights reserved.
Chayei Sarah In Depth
A condensation of the weekly Torah portion alongside select commentaries culled from the Midrash, Talmud, Chassidic masters, and the broad corpus of Jewish scholarship.
Parshat Chayei Sarah In-Depth
Genesis 23:1-25:18
Parshah Summary
Paradoxically, the Torah section entitled Chayei Sarah (“The Life of Sarah”) deals entirely with events that occurred after Sarah’s death. The first verse of the Parshah tallies the lifespan of the first of the four matriarchs of Israel:
The life of Sarah was one hundred years, twenty years and seven years; these were the years of Sarah’s life.
The second verse reports:
Sarah died in Kiryat Arba, which is Hebron, in the land of Canaan; and Abraham came to mourn for Sarah and to weep for her.
Presenting himself as “a stranger and a resident amongst you,” Abraham approaches the people of Heth with the request to purchase a plot of land for Sarah’s burial. Abraham is particularly interested in the Machpelah Cave (“the double cave” or “the cave of the couples”) and the surrounding field—a property belonging to Ephron the son of Tzochar.
Ephron declares that he is prepared to give the cave and field to Abraham free of charge, but also lets fall that he values the property at 400 silver shekels. So,
Abraham weighed to Ephron the silver which he had named in the hearing of the sons of Heth, four hundred shekels of silver in negotiable currency . . .
Then Abraham buried Sarah his wife in the cave of the field of Machpelah before Mamre, which is Hebron, in the land of Canaan.
Thus “the Machpelah Field with the cave in it” in the heart of Hebron became the first Jewish-owned plot of land in the Holy Land.
“Abraham was old and come along in days; and G‑d had blessed Abraham in all things”—so it was time to find a wife for Isaac.
Abraham summons Eliezer, “the eldest servant of his house, who ruled over all that he had,” and says to him:
“. . . Swear by the L‑rd, G‑d of heaven and G‑d of the earth, that you will not take a wife for my son of the daughters of the Canaanites among whom I dwell; but you shall go to my country and to my kindred, and take a wife for my son Isaac . . .”
The servant took ten camels of the camels of his master, and departed; all the goods of his master were in his hand. He arose and went to Aram Naharayim, to the city of [Abraham’s brother] Nachor.
How to find the right woman to marry Isaac and become the second matriarch of Israel? Eliezer had a plan.
He made his camels kneel down outside the city by a well of water at the time of evening, at the time that the women go out to draw water.
And then he prayed:
“O L‑rd, the G‑d of my master Abraham . . . Behold, I stand here by the well of water, and the daughters of the men of the city come out to draw water.
“Let it come to pass that the maiden to whom I shall say, ‘Please, dip down your pitcher that I may drink,’ and she shall say, ‘Drink, and I will give your camels to drink also’—she is the one You have appointed for Your servant Isaac . . .”
Things now happen swiftly:
Before he had finished speaking, Rebecca came out . . . with her pitcher upon her shoulder. The girl was very fair to look upon . . .
The servant ran to meet her, and said: “Please, let me drink a little water from your pitcher.” She said: “Drink, my lord”; and she hastened and let down her pitcher upon her hand, and gave him to drink.
When she had done giving him to drink, she said: “I will draw water for your camels also, until they have finished drinking.” She hastened and emptied her pitcher into the trough, and ran again to the well to draw water, and drew for all his camels.
Eliezer “looked at her wonderingly, but kept his peace, waiting to know whether G‑d had made his journey successful or not,” for he still had to determine if she met the criteria insisted upon by Abraham—that Isaac’s wife be “from my kindred.”
Still, he must have been fairly certain that she was the one, because he immediately gave her “a golden ring of half a shekel’s weight, and two bracelets for her hands of ten shekels’ weight of gold,” in effect betrothing her to Isaac. Only then did he ask:
“Whose daughter are you? Tell me, please, is there room in your father’s house for us to lodge?”
She said to him: “I am the daughter of Bethuel the son of Milcah, whom she bore to Nachor.”
She was Abraham’s brother’s granddaughter! Then she answered his second question: “We have both straw and provender enough, and room to lodge in.”
Rebecca runs home, and Eliezer and his ten camels follow. There he is greeted by Rebecca’s brother, Laban, who provides feed for his camels, and water for him and his camel-drivers to wash their feet.
There was set food before him to eat, but he said: “I will not eat until I have told of my errand.”
And he said: “Speak.”
And he said: “I am Abraham’s servant.
“G‑d has blessed my master greatly. . . . He has given him flocks, herds, silver, gold, manservants, maidservants, camels and donkeys.
“Sarah, my master’s wife, bore a son to my master when she was old; and to him he has given all that he has.”
The Torah now repeats the entire sequence of events—Abraham’s instructions to Eliezer, Eliezer’s arrival at the well, his prayer and the “test” he invented, Rebecca’s appearance and her actions, Eliezer’s gifts to her and his conversation with her—this time as told by Eliezer to Rebecca’s family. Laban and Bethuel respond:
“The thing comes from G‑d; we cannot speak to you bad or good. Behold, Rebecca is before you; take her and go, and let her be your master’s son’s wife, as G‑d has spoken.”
The next morning, however, her mother and brother (Bethuel is mysteriously absent) have some last-minute objections: there are many arrangements to be made, a trousseau to be prepared. “Let the girl stay with us a year or ten months; after that she shall go.”
Eliezer, however, insists that they must set out immediately. “Do not delay me, seeing that G‑d has made my way successful; send me away that I may go to my master.”
They said: “We will call the girl and inquire at her mouth.” They called Rebecca, and said to her: “Do you want to go with this man?”
And she said: “I will go.”
Rebecca and her maids arose, and they rode upon the camels and followed the man; the servant took Rebecca, and went his way.
Isaac went out to meditate in the field at the evening time; he lifted up his eyes and saw, behold, camels were coming.
Rebecca lifted up her eyes and saw Isaac; and she leaned down from the camel.
She said to the servant: “Who is this man who walks in the field to meet us?” And the servant said: “It is my master.” She took a veil and covered herself . . .
Our Parshah has one more event to relate before concluding:
Then again Abraham took a wife, and her name was Keturah. She bore him Zimran, Yokshan, Medan, Midian, Yishbak and Shuach.
The Torah, however, is quick to point out that these additional sons of Abraham were not to be included in the Abrahamic legacy:
Abraham gave all that he had to Isaac. But to the sons of the concubines which Abraham had, Abraham gave gifts, and sent them away from his son, while he yet lived, eastward, to the east country.
Thus the Torah concludes its account of Abraham’s life:
These are the days of the years of Abraham’s life which he lived: a hundred years, seventy years and five years. Then Abraham expired and died in a good old age, an old man and full of years, and he was gathered to his people.
His sons Isaac and Ishmael buried him in the Cave of Machpelah, in the field of Ephron the son of Tzochar the Hittite, which is before Mamre, the field which Abraham purchased from the sons of Heth; there was Abraham buried, and Sarah his wife.
The Torah also informs us that Ishmael died at the age of 137 years, after fathering twelve sons, each of whom was the prince of a domain; the territories of these twelve clans extended “from Havilah to Shur, which is before Egypt, all the way to Assyria.”
From Our Sages
The life of Sarah was one hundred years, twenty years and seven years (23:1)At the age of twenty she was like age seven in beauty, and at the age of one hundred she was like age twenty in piety. [Another version: at one hundred she was like twenty in beauty, and at twenty she was like seven in piety.]
(Rashi; Midrash Rabbah)
Why does the Torah split up the tally of her years into three parts (“one hundred years,” “twenty years” and “seven years”)? To tell us that every day of her life was the equivalent of them all. At the age of one hundred years she was like age twenty in strength, and at age twenty she was like age seven in modesty and purity; at age seven she was like age twenty in intelligence, and at age twenty she was like age one hundred in righteousness.
(Midrash HaGadol)
Abraham came to mourn for Sarah (23:2)
Where did he come from? He came from Mount Moriah, Sarah having died of grief over the Binding of Isaac.
(Midrash Rabbah)
I am a stranger and a resident amongst you (23:4)
The Jew is a “resident” in the world, for the Torah instructs him not to escape the physical reality but to inhabit it and elevate it. Virtually all the mitzvot (divine commandments) of the Torah are physical actions involving physical objects, in keeping with the Jew’s mission to make a “dwelling for G‑d in the material realm” by sanctifying the everyday materials of everyday life.
At the same time, the Jew feels himself a “stranger” in the material world. His true home is a higher, loftier place, the world of spirit, the world of holiness and G‑dliness from which his soul has been exiled and to which it yearns to return. Indeed, it is only because the Jew feels himself a stranger in the world that he can avoid being wholly consumed and overwhelmed by it, and maintain the spiritual vision and integrity required to elevate it and sanctify it as an abode for the Divine Presence.
(The Lubavitcher Rebbe)
The story is told of the visitor who, stopping by the home of the great chassidic master Rabbi DovBer of Mezeritch, was outraged by the poverty he encountered there. Rabbi DovBer’s home was bare of all furnishing, save for an assortment of rough wooden planks and blocks that served as benches for his students during the day and as beds for his family at night. “How can you live like this?” demanded the visitor. “I myself am far from wealthy, but at least in my home you will find, thank G‑d, the basic necessities: some chairs, a table, beds . . .”“Indeed?” said Rabbi DovBer. “But I don’t see any of your furnishings. How do you manage without them?”
“What do you mean? Do you think that I schlep all my possessions along with me wherever I go? When I travel, I make do with what’s available. But at home—a person’s home is a different matter altogether!”
“Ah, yes,” said Rabbi DovBer. “At home, it is a different matter altogether . . .”
(Likkutei Dibburim)
The Cave of Machpelah (23:9)
Rav and Shmuel differ as to its meaning. One says that the cave consisted of a lower and an upper chamber. The other says that it had multiples of couples [interred in it]: Adam and Eve, Abraham and Sarah, Isaac and Rebecca, Jacob and Leah.
(Talmud, Eruvin 53a)
Ephron the Hittite answered Abraham: “The field I give to you, and the cave that is in it, I give it to you . . .” (23:11)
Said Rabbi Elazar: The righteous promise little and perform much—Abraham promised his guests “a morsel of bread” (Genesis 18:5) and then “ran to the herd and fetched a calf tender and good, and he hurried to prepare it” (ibid., v. 7).
On the other hand, the wicked promise much and do not perform even a little. Initially Ephron proclaimed, “A piece of land worth four hundred shekels of silver, what is that between me and you?” But in the end, “Abraham weighed to Ephron the silver which he had named in the hearing of the sons of Heth—four hundred shekels of silver in negotiable currency.”
(Talmud, Bava Metzia 87a)
Abraham weighed to Ephron the silver (23:16)
Said Rabbi Yudan the son of Rabbi Simon: This is one of the three places regarding which the nations of the world cannot accuse Israel and say, “You have stolen them.” The three places are: the Cave of Machpelah, the site of the Holy Temple, and the tomb of Joseph at Shechem. The Cave of Machpelah, as it is written, “Abraham weighed to Ephron the silver.” The Temple: “So David gave to Ornan for the place six hundred shekels of gold” (I Chronicles 21:25). And Joseph’s tomb: “[Jacob] bought the parcel of land (at Shechem) for a hundred pieces of silver” (Genesis 33:19).
(Bereishit Rabbah 79:7)
Four hundred shekels of silver (23:16)
As per Leviticus 27:16, a field the size of a beit kor, which is the equivalent of 75,000 square cubits, represents a value of 50 silver shekels. Thus, the size of the field which Abraham purchased for 400 silver shekels was eight kor, or 600,000 square cubits.
A square cubit (approx. 20 inches by 20 inches) is the space occupied by a single person. This means that Abraham purchased a plot of land that provides an individual “space” for each of the 600,000 souls of Israel.
(Paane’ach Raza)
Our sages tell us that the Torah contains 600,000 letters (counting the spaces between letters), for each Jew possesses something of the Torah. The same is true of the Land of Israel. Israel is the eternal inheritance of the Jewish people, equally the property of every individual Jew. And so it has been from the very first moment of Jewish ownership of the Holy Land: the first plot of land obtained by the first Jew included a share for every Jewish soul.
(The Lubavitcher Rebbe)
Abraham was old and come along in days (24:1)
When Abraham aged, he did not merely pass through the days of his life: he accumulated them. Each day was fully utilized, so that they were fully possessed by him.
(Zohar)
I will make you swear by the L‑rd, G‑d of heaven and G‑d of the earth (24:3)
But further on (in verse 7) he says, “The L‑rd, the G‑d of heaven, who took me from my father’s house.”
This is what Abraham was saying to Eliezer: “When G‑d summoned me from the house of my father, He was G‑d of the heavens but not of the earth: the inhabitants of the earth did not recognize Him, and His name was not referred to in the land. But now that I have made His name familiar in the mouths of His creatures, He is G‑d in both heaven and earth.”
(Rashi)
Before he finished speaking, behold, Rebecca came out (24:15)
Three people were answered by G‑d as their words left their mouths: Eliezer, the servant of Abraham; Moses; and Solomon. Eliezer, as it is written, “Before he finished speaking, behold, Rebecca came out.” Moses, as it is written (Numbers 16:31), “As he concluded saying all these things, the ground split open . . .” Solomon, as it is written (II Chronicles 7:1), “As Solomon concluded praying, the fire descended from the heavens . . .”
(Midrash Rabbah)
The man took a golden ring, a half-shekel in weight; and two bracelets of ten shekels’ weight of gold for her hands (24:22)
A half-shekel—to allude to the shekels contributed by the people of Israel [for the construction of the Sanctuary in the desert], a half-shekel per head.
(Rashi)
MoreHe gave straw and provender for the camels . . . and there was set food before him to eat (24:32-33)
First he fed the animals, and afterward he was served food. For it is forbidden for a person to taste anything until he feeds his animals.
(Midrash HaGadol)
He said: “I will not eat until I have told of my errand.” And he said: “Speak.” (24:33)
Said Rabbi Acha: The talk of the servants of the fathers is more desirable than the Torah scholarship of the children. For Eliezer’s story, which takes up two or three pages in the Torah, is twice recounted, while many principles of Torah law are conveyed with a single word or letter.
(Rashi; Midrash Rabbah)
MoreSarah, my master’s wife, bore a son to my master in her old age; and to him he has given all that he possesses (24:36)
Eliezer showed them a deed of bequest in which Abraham had given Isaac all his possessions, so that they should hurry to send their daughter.
(Rashi)
As the first Jewish marriage described by the Torah, the union of Isaac and Rebecca is the prototype of all subsequent Jewish marriages, both in the literal sense of building a home in Israel and in the broader sense of uniting the physical world with its cosmic soul, thereby fulfilling the divine purpose in creation of making the world a dwelling place for G‑d. In this endeavor is invested everything that Abraham possesses: all the resources—spiritual and material—with which the Almighty endows His people to the end of realizing His purpose in creation.
(The Lubavitcher Rebbe)
I arrived today at the well (24:42)
From Hebron to Charan is a 17-day journey, and Eliezer made the trip in three hours.
(Pirkei d’Rabbi Eliezer, ch. 16)
Her brother and mother said . . . (24:55)
But where was Bethuel? He wished to hinder it, and so he was smitten during the night.
(Midrash Rabbah)
We will call the girl and inquire at her mouth (24:57)
From this we learn that a woman should not be given in marriage without her consent.
(Rashi)
Isaac went out to meditate in the field . . . and behold, camels were coming (24:63)
Sometimes a person must go to his soulmate, and sometimes his soulmate comes to him. In the case of Isaac, his wife came to him, as it is written, “And he saw, and behold, there were camels coming.” Jacob, however, went to his wife, as it is written, “Jacob went out of Be’er Sheva . . .” (Genesis 28:10).
(Midrash HaGadol)
Isaac brought her into the tent [of] his mother Sarah (24:67)
This verse can also be punctuated “Isaac brought her into the tent—his mother Sarah,” implying that when she came into the tent she became, in effect, his mother Sarah.
For as long as Sarah lived, a cloud (signifying the Divine Presence) hung over her tent. When she died, the cloud disappeared; but when Rebecca came, it returned.
As long as Sarah lived, her doors were wide open. At her death, that openhandedness ceased; but when Rebecca came, it returned.
As long as Sarah lived, there was a blessing on her dough, and the lamp used to burn from the evening of the Sabbath until the evening of the following Sabbath. When she died, these ceased; but when Rebecca came, they returned.
(Midrash Rabbah; Rashi)
Isaac was comforted after his mother’s death (24:67)
Such is the way of the world: as long as a person’s mother is alive, he is attached to her; when she dies, he finds comfort in his wife.
(Rashi)
Abraham took a wife, and her name was Keturah (25:1)
This is Hagar. She is called Keturah because her deeds were now as pleasing as the ketoret (the incense offered in the Holy Temple)
(Midrash Rabbah; Rashi)
MoreHis sons Isaac and Ishmael buried him in the Cave of Machpelah (25:9)
This implies that Ishmael did teshuvah (returned to a righteous life), and placed Isaac before himself.
(Rashi)
Story The Fallen Sword of the Sultan
In the early 1640s, the sultan of the Ottoman Empire made a journey from his seat of government in far-off Turkey to places of importance in his domains.
He made his way to the Cave of Machpelah in Hebron. He entered, adorned in his traditional ruling garb, including the golden sword, studded with diamonds and precious stones, which hung at his side. The Sultan wandered from room to room, finally entering the huge hall named after the Patriarch Yitzchak.The hole is perhaps the most sacred spot in the entire illustrious structure...
The center of attraction in the Yitzchak Hall is a small circular hole in the floor, near the wall shared with the smaller Avraham Hall. The hole is perhaps the most sacred spot in the entire illustrious structure above the burial caves of the Patriarchs and Matriarchs, for it leads down into the caves themselves. Pilgrims from all over the world journey for weeks and months just to have the opportunity to stand by this small, dark, circular opening, leading into the cave, which according to tradition was excavated by Adam, the first man.
The Sultan leaned over the revered aperture, peering down into it. As he bent over, his precious sword fell from his side, down into the cavity in the ground. Hearing the clang of metal hitting the ground, the sultan realized that his sword lay in the caves underneath. The sultan called the officer of the guard and ordered him to lower a soldier through the hole into the caves below, to retrieve his sword.
Quick to respond to the sultan’s order, the officer selected a soldier nearby. Another soldier wrapped a rope around his waist and lowered the soldier into the underground cavern. No sooner had they done so when, without warning, piercing screams penetrated from inside the hole below. Quickly they pulled up the soldier, but he was dead. The sultan ordered that another soldier be lowered into the caves. So it was, and his fate was precisely as his predecessor’s.Quickly they pulled up the soldier, but he was dead.
The sultan continued to send soldiers into the caves, until it became apparent that all who enter the caves do not exit alive. The sultan turned to his hosts and exclaimed, “Who will return to me my sword?” The Arabs, looking at one another, answered without hesitating. “Why not send down a Jew? If he dies, none of us would care, and if not, you will have your precious saber back.” So the Jews were ordered, on pain of death, to supply a volunteer to be lowered into the caves to return the sultan’s sword to him.
The Jews of Hebron had heard what happened to the sultan’s soldiers. How could they send one of their own to his death? They prayed and fasted, hoping to avert the decree. Realizing that they had no choice, they looked at one another. Who would dare to enter the sacred caves of the Patriarchs?
The elderly rabbi of the community, the Kabbalist and sage Rabbi Avraham Azulai, author of Chesed L’Avraham, solved the dilemma. “I will enter the holy caves. Have no fear.” And so it was. After praying and pleading before the G‑d of Avraham, Yitzchak and Yaakov, Rabbi Avraham Azulai immersed himself in the mikvah and dressed in white garments, the traditional dress of the dead. He set forth to the Cave of Machpelah.
With a rope tied around his waist, Rabbi Azulai was lowered into the cave. When his feet hit the ground, Rabbi Azulai looked around him and found, standing by his side, three bearded men. “We are your forefathers,” they told him, “Avraham, Yitzchak and Yaakov.” Rabbi Azulai was dumbfounded. Finally he said to them, “Why should I leave here and go back above? I am elderly, and here I have found my forefathers. I desire only to stay here with you.”“Why should I leave here and go back above?..."
The Patriarchs insisted, “You must return the sword to the sultan. If not, the entire Jewish community of Hebron is liable to be wiped out. But have no fear. In another seven days you will return here, to be with us.”
So the saintly rabbi returned to the Yitzchak Hall, above the cave of the Patriarchs, and with him was the sultan’s sword. The sultan was pleased. Upon seeing their beloved rabbi return alive, the Jews of Hebron declared the day a holiday. Rabbi Avraham Azulai spent the next week with his students, teaching them all the esoteric teachings of Torah. Day and night he learned with them, instructing them, imparting to them all that he knew.
Seven days after being lowered into the Cave of Machpelah, Rabbi Avraham Azulai returned his soul to his Maker, dying peacefully in his home. He was brought to rest in the ancient Jewish cemetery in Hebron, overlooking the final resting place of his beloved forefathers, Avraham, Yitzchak and Yaakov.
Adapted by Yerachmiel Tilles from hebron.co.il
Biographical note:
Rabbi Avraham Azulai (1570–1643) authored the well-known Kabbalistic work Chesed L’Avraham. He is the ancestor of one of the most famous Sephardic sages, Chida (Rabbi Chaim Yosef David Azulai, 1724–1806).
Copyright 2003 by KabbalaOnline.org, a project of Ascent of Safed (//ascentofsafed.com). All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this work or portions thereof, in any form, unless with permission, in writing, from Kabbala Online.© Copyright 2016, all rights reserved.
Story
Kaddish at a Baseball Game By John Yaakov Guterson
My Dad loved baseball games. At the ballpark, we would sit together, eating our peanuts, discussing each nuance of possibility. “Baseball is like poetry,” Dad would say, where innings become rhythms of pace and pause. Father and son, side by side, the diamond before us.
Dad would relish his one beer, after which a touch of foam inevitably appeared on his mustache. This always made me smile. Dad seemed to know everything before it happened: “Get ready for the hitKaddish is something of a marathon and run!” or “Time to bring in the southpaw!” He rejected sitting too close to the field: “Higher seats give you better perspective, John.” Dad was a kid again, all smiles, excited, revved up. How I loved being with him at those games.
Kaddish. Kaddish is what one says when a parent passes. It is the Torah way. Saying the Kaddish prayer, like doing any mitzvah here in our physical world where the deceased no longer can, has the extraordinary ability to lift the soul of the deceased higher and higher. As such, the experience of Kaddish is transcendent, a connection to G‑d, and for me, a connection to my dear father, Mordechai Ber Guterson, who breathed his last on Friday night, Oct. 4, 2013.
Kaddish is also something of a marathon: three times a day at shul for 11 straight months, leading the prayers, praying loud enough so that all can hear and follow. It takes breath, consistency, endurance, resilience. It takes a fastidious rearranging of work schedules and vacations. It takes honor and love.
And if you’re late to shul, by chance, then you’ve missed that moment to say Kaddish. Opportunity lost. I confess to some restless nights, fearful that I would oversleep. For obsessives, a perfect set-up.
Dad, I will not let you down. You and Mom brought me into this physical world; you raised me, made me who I am. I’ll be there.
And Dad, you lovingly wrote to me years ago that although you considered yourself to be a “non-believer,” you were at peace knowing that I would be your Kaddish. You wrote: “It’s always good to have an ace in the hole.” I embraced those words, Dad, like a soldier.
And so it was not by accident that at the end of my 11 months of Kaddish that I went to a baseball game. Celebrate my Dad. Pirates vs. Cardinals. My 10-year-old son and my son-in-law joined me, their presence as buffers for my emotions.
To say Kaddish one needs a minyan, a quorum of 10 men. In the Torah world, we are not alone. Needing nine Jewish men to join me, Rabbi Silverman came to the rescue, as he had already organized a “Jewish college students night at the ballpark” for that very game.
Now, I can’t tell you the names of any of those college students who left their seats in the bottom of the first inning. I knew none of those young men who spared 15 minutes to stand near a 60-year-old, white-bearded son as he paid homage to his deceased father. But there they were—some knew Hebrew, some did not, but that didn’t matter. Simply being there was the key, the power of 10 Jews together.
For without all 10 of us, whether theySimply being there was the key understood fully or not, I would not have been able to say that last Kaddish, the culmination of 11 consistent months, of 990 minyans, of never missing once. And so, as the crowd roared in the background, those nine guys meant everything to me.
As I walked back to my seat, I realized how much my Dad would have loved the whole scene. I could feel him there with me, smiling, thanking me, loving me and then urging me to get back to my seat soon, not to miss another pitch. Tears welled up inside me as I took that walk, another goodbye to my father.
As I approached my seat, there was a 10-year-old boy, wrapped up in the moment, the thrill of a ballgame, pistachios in hand.
He looked up at me with a big smile on his face, and said: “Hi, Dad!”
Dr. John Yaakov Guterson received his medical degree from Albert Einstein College of Medicine. He now resides in Pittsburgh, Pa., with his wife, Amy, where he works as a psychiatrist. Dr. Guterson was honored to speak at this past year’s Kinus.
Artwork by Sefira Ross, a freelance designer and illustrator whose original creations grace many Chabad.org pages. Residing in Seattle, Washington, her days are spent between multitasking illustrations and being a mom.© Copyright 2016, all rights reserved.
Jewish News
Israeli President Visits Mumbai Chabad House, Where ‘Darkness Battled Light’
By Dovid Margolin
Israeli President Reuven Rivlin visited the Chabad House in Mumbai, India, on Nov. 20, marking eight years since the terrorist attack that murdered Rabbi Gavriel and Rivka Holtzberg, four of their guests and 158 others throughout the city. The Chabad House was reopened two years ago, and is led today by Rabbi Yisroel and Chaya Kozlovsky. Here, Rivlin and his wife, Nechama, light a memorial candle at the Chabad House in front of a photo of the Holtzbergs. (Photo: Chabad of Mumbai)
President of Israel Reuven Rivlin attended a memorial event on Monday evening at the Chabad House in Mumbai, India, marking eight years since the devastating 2008 terrorist attacks that killed the center’s founders and directors, Chabad-Lubavitch emissaries Rabbi Gavriel and Rivka Holtzberg; four of their guests; and another 158 people throughout the city.
Rivlin, accompanied by his wife, Nechama, visited the bullet-riddled fourth and fifth floors, pausing in the bedroom of the Holtzbergs’ son, Moshe—spirited to safety by his Indian nanny—before descending to the second floor, where he unveiled a memorial plaque dedicated to the victims. The plaque is next to the office where Rabbi Holtzberg worked.
“The walls [of Moshe’s room] are still covered by the drawings of his mother, colorful aleph bet letters that she used to teach him alongside cartoon illustrations of mezuzahs and Torah scrolls,” described Rivlin after the event.
“Moshe is now with us in Israel, together with his family. Am Yisrael chai [“the people of Israel live”]. And here, in this Chabad House, which is always open and serves as a warm home for Jews from around the world on a daily basis, I think exactly that. The people of Israel live, the entire free world lives, and we will defeat terrorism.”
Rivlin is the highest-ranking dignitary to visit the Chabad House, which is located on a narrow lane in the seafront Colaba neighborhood, Mumbai’s tourist hub. The center was previously visited by Canadian Prime Minister Stephen Harper in 2009, among other public figures over the years.
Chabad-Lubavitch of Mumbai has been under the directorship of Rabbi Yisroel and Chaya Kozlovsky since 2013, when the couple arrived in India’s largest city to continue the Holtzbergs’ mission to support a thriving Jewish life in Mumbai. The Chabad House, which was severely damaged during the firefight between Indian commandos and the Pakistani Muslim terrorists holed up in the Jewish center, was renovated and reopened in 2014. Today, it once again serves as a central address for Israeli backpackers and diplomats; Indian Jews; visitors from around the world; and Jewish businesspeople who live, work and visit Mumbai.
Rabbi Kozlovsky, director of Chabad of Mumbai, shows the Rivlins the devastated remains of the bedroom of the Holtzbergs’ young son, Moshe, who was fled to safety during the attack by his Indian nanny. (Photo: Chabad of Mumbai)
“President Rivlin’s visit tonight was about remembering the lives of more than 160 innocent people who were brutally killed in Mumbai,” says Rabbi Kozlovsky. “It was also a testament to the life and work of Gabi and Rivky. He was showing appreciation for what they did and what they died doing.”
While the Chabad House’s synagogue and social spaces have reopened and are in full use, boasting Torah classes, Shabbat and holiday meals, and synagogue services, the fourth and fifth floors—the sites of the worst bloodshed during the heinous 48-hour-attack—are, together with the roof deck, in the long process of being turned into the first museum and memorial dedicated to the dark events of those days.
“Touring the Chabad House is a powerful experience and a vivid statement,” says Kozlovsky. “It is a place where darkness battled light.”
A ‘Profoundly Moving’ Experience
Since their arrival in the city, the Kozlovskys have thrown themselves into continuing the Holtzbergs’ work, while at the same time pursuing new initiatives and adapting to Mumbai’s ever-changing landscape. They opened a Jewish day school last year in Mumbai—a tall order considering how great an emphasis Indian parents (Indian Jews among them) place on the quality of their children’s education; some Indians can spend as much as half their salaries on their child’s tuition. When Mumbai’s business district moved to a neighborhood on the other side of the traffic-ingested city, Kozlovsky established an offshoot Chabad center to serve Jewish businesspeople, who spend most of their week there.
From left: Chaya Kozlovsky, Nechama Rivlin, President Reuven Rivlin and Rabbi Yisroel Kozlovsky (Photo: Chabad of Mumbai)
But one effort that has moved the rabbi in particular is the Chabad House museum. Designed by Ralph Appelbaum Associates, the firm behind the United States Holocaust Memorial Museum, the Chabad House museum will be a place for people of all faiths to learn and reflect on the attack; on the life of observance and selfless dedication led by the Holtzbergs; and on universal moral principles that find their roots in Judaism, but are applicable to people from all faiths and walks of life.
The targets chosen by the Lakshar-e-Taiba terrorists were busy public places, where they hoped to achieve the maximum number of casualties—that is, aside for the Chabad House. In making their symbolic diversion towards the low-profile Jewish center, the message sent by the terrorists was clear: to transform the Chabad House, also known as Nariman House, into an international symbol of the battle between good and evil.
“The first time I was there, the baby’s toys were still scattered around; it was a scene of terror and sheer, in-your-face Jew-hatred,” recalls Rabbi Abraham Cooper, associate dean at the Simon Wiesenthal Center, whose decades-long work to counter negative stereotypes about Jews in Asia and create avenues of dialogue has led him throughout the Far East, including numerous visits to India. “Even now, you can still see the fight between decency and evil, the holy and the profane.”
A memorial service at the Chabad House in 2009, just one year after the terrorist attacks. From left are: Israeli Consul General Orna Sagiv; Rabbi Avraham Berkowitz, director of the Chabad Mumbai Relief Fund; D. Ramasamy Kaarthikeyan, former director of India’s Central Bureau of Investigation; Rabbi Abraham Cooper, associate dean of the Simon Wiesenthal Center; Swami Gnanatej, senior swami at the Art of Living Foundation; and Father Caesar D’Mello, Rector, Cathedral of the Holy Name at Colaba, Mumbai. (Photo: Simon Wiesenthal Center)
Cooper describes the space as intimate, where tourists can visualize the victims’ horrific and heroic last hours, and appreciate just how miraculous the rescue of young Moshe Holtzberg, now 10, was. He says the museum and memorial will have a powerful impact on Indian society as well, which, with its thousand-year history of no anti-Semitism, had a hard time understanding why the terrorists would attack the Jewish center.
“To re-establish [the idea] that decency will win the day in this place,” adds Cooper, “is profoundly moving.”
Kozlovsky attests that everyone he shows the damaged parts of the Chabad House to comes away shaken and changed. He saw it with Rivlin and the Israeli delegation, and he feels it constantly himself.
“The place speaks for itself,” affirms Kozlovsky. “The first time I walked in, my heart was pumping; I couldn’t process the emotions immediately. But the second and third time I entered the Chabad House, the enormity of what happened here dawned on me. I knew then that we need to sustain that feeling and find a way to share it with as many people as possible—that it should have an everlasting impact on their life.”
The anniversary of the attacks is marked every year and consistently gets much attention from the press. Here, the rabbi and Rivlin field questions.© Copyright 2016, all rights reserved.
Jewish News
Rabbi Elimelech Zweibel, 75
By Eli Rubin
Rabbi Elimelech Zweibel
Rabbi Elimelech Zweibel, the lead instructor in Chassidic thought and practice (mashpi’ah roshi) at Yeshiva Tomchei Temimim Lubavitch in Morristown, N.J., for the past 50 years, passed away suddenly on Nov. 20, the 19th of Cheshvan. He was 75 years old.
Over the course of his tenure, he was a mentor and guide to thousands of students, who loved him for his gentle warmth and dedication as a teacher, and who revered him for the seriousness of his character and for the comprehensive clarity of his scholarship. He was known to one and all by the affectionate moniker, “Reb Meilich.”
Through his classes, farbrengens, encouragement and living example, Reb Meilich gave students the conceptual tools to probe the depths of Chassidic literature, to contextualize Chassidic teachings within the wider history of Jewish thought and history, and to see how these teachings were to be applied in the practical service of G‑d.
Reb Meilich was famous for his uniquely comprehensive erudition. He was a master of Chassidic literature, lore and custom, and a master of Talmud and Jewish law. In addition, he was familiar with the great works of classical Jewish thought and learning, and with contemporary rabbinic scholarship. But part of his greatness as a teacher was that he was also a skilled storyteller. He would use a story to illustrate a point, tell more stories to sharpen the portrait of the first story’s protagonist and then return to round out the point with yet another story.
Many of his students fondly remember trekking through the snowy woods of Morris County to sit around Reb Meilich’s table on wintry Friday nights. Those who made that trip week after week soon entered into a world populated by the living memories of exemplary Chassidim—some more famous, others less so; some who he had known in person, others only by reputation. He didn’t draw anecdotes solely from other people’s lives, but also from his own, and so his students came to know him, too.
From Tel Aviv to Lod, and Back
Rabbi Elimelech Zweibel was born in Tel Aviv in 1941 to Rabbi Tzvi Yaakov and Hinda Minka Zwiebel. His father was a Chassid of old Sanz lineage who became affiliated with Bobov, a sub branch of the Sanz dynasty. As a child, he attended the Chinuch Atsma’i school in Tel Aviv before enrolling in the Chabad yeshivah in nearby Lod at the age of 11. The latter institution had the double attraction, he would recall, of having a dorm and being situated in an orange grove.
In Lod, Reb Meilich came under the tutelage of Rabbi Shlomo Chaim Kesselman, who had been a student in the original Tomchei Temimim yeshivah in the Russian townlet of Lubavitch. Rabbi Shlomo Chaim placed a great emphasis on avodah, the disciplined subjection of the self to the constant service of G‑d. Reb Meilich described him as “a maivin in avodah”—meaning that he had a thorough knowledge and understanding of how to harness the mind and heart in the service of G‑d, and of how to train young students in the rigors of conscientious self-discipline and effacement before G‑d. Reb Meilich recalled that on returning home after his first stay at the yeshivah in Lod, one of the local Chabad Chassidim met him in the street and asked rhetorically: “So, you know now that all the world is worth no more than an onion skin?”
Rabbi Shlomo Chaim was generally dismissive of his Chassidic contemporaries who devoted themselves with similar single-mindedness to plumb the more theoretical depths of Chabad’s conceptual universe. In 1959, however, the Lubavitcher Rebbe—Rabbi Menachem M. Schneerson, of righteous memory—wrote to him instructing that the yeshivah students compose and publish explanations of Chassidic texts and concepts, and so he reconsidered this attitude. He dispatched a small group of students, including Reb Meilich, to be instructed by two Chabad thinkers of renown: Rabbi Moshe Gourarie and Rabbi Nochum Goldshmidt.
The students understood very little of what Gourarie said. The subject matter was far more esoteric than they were used to, and his explanatory style was characterized by intense abstraction. Goldshmidt’s presentation was far more accessible; they were able to grasp the ideas and coherently transcribe them. But what Reb Meilich remembered best was Goldshmidt’s response when they told him that Gourarie had discussed the Zoharic dictum, “the infinite light extend upward without limit, and downward without end.” “Aha!” exclaimed Goldshmidt. “There he is at home!”
Recalling this episode, Reb Meilich would often explain that every Chassid has his own conceptual prism that he returns to again and again, and through which he approaches and understands the entire corpus of Chassidic ideas and teachings.
An Intellectual and Experiential Eye-Opener
In 1962, Reb Meilich was part of the first group of students to travel from Israel to study in the central Tomchei Temimim yeshivah at 770 Eastern Parkway, Lubavitch World Headquarters, in the Crown Heights neighborhood of Brooklyn, N.Y. Upon arrival, they were quizzed by Rabbi Shmuel Levitin, a senior Chassid and member of the faculty. When he asked if anyone knew where the Yiddish exclamation gevald appeared in Chabad discourses, Reb Meilich immediately responded, citing a discourse delivered by the fifth Chabad Rebbe in the year 1900. Levitin was sufficiently impressed by this demonstration of erudition and shared the news with the Rebbe, who asked for the name of the student in question. At a loss, Levitin could only respond that the student wore glasses, provoking an amused laugh from the Rebbe.
During his time as a student in 770, Reb Meilich became a chozer—one of the oral scribes who memorized the Rebbe’s talks, and oversaw their transcription and publication. Subsequently, he would become a senior member of the team responsible for redacting and merging related talks into the more tightly argued essays that were reviewed by the Rebbe and published under the title Likutei Sichot. These edited essays would eventually fill 39 volumes and stand as the most authoritative exemplar of the Rebbe’s scholarly output.
Rabbi Zweibel, left, with Rabbi Meir Tzvi Gruzman, Rabbi Zalman Gopin and Rabbi Yoel Kahn at the annual Yarchei Kallah gathering of leading Chabad-Lubavitch rabbis in Upstate New York.
Reb Meilich once remarked that listening to the Rebbe talk for hours on end was an intellectual and experiential eye-opener. “At every farbrengen, the Rebbe would speak of atzmut—the essence of divine being that transcends all conception. From Rabbi Shlomo Chaim Kesselman—and even from Rabbi Moshe Gourarie—we never heard anything like this.” The world of Chassidic ideas is vast, ranging from contemplative techniques designed to inspire love and awe before G‑d, to intricate investigations of psychological processes and the nuances of human character, to the esoteric conceptualization of Kabbalistic metaphysics. But Reb Meilich came to understand that for the Rebbe, this vast corpus of ideas all revolved around the single goal of revealing the essence of divine being in the physical world, and in the daily activities of ordinary people.
Emphasizing this point, Reb Meilich recalled two rare instances where the intensity of the Rebbe’s excitement during his talk was conveyed with an exuberant flourish of his raised hands. (Usually, the Rebbe’s hands would remain held tightly together, concealed from most of the audience beneath the tablecloth.)
On one occasion, the Rebbe dwelt on the fact that the very first word of the Ten Commandments, anochi—“I”, which refers to the very essence of G‑d’s own self—is not Hebrew but Egyptian; not the holy tongue, but the language of those who had enslaved the Jewish people, and whose extreme moral depravity earned them the label “obscenity of the earth.” Emphasizing the seeming absurdity, the Rebbe raised both hands above his head, exclaiming: “Can you envisage this! Anochi is Egyptian!” At the very outset, the Rebbe went on to explain, G‑d wanted to underscore that the purpose of the revelation at Sinai was not simply to illuminate the holy, but to transform even the nadir of profanity through revealing the very essence of divinity.
On the second occasion recalled by Reb Meilich, the Rebbe discussed Chapter 27 of Tanya, which describes a person who resists a negative thought even for a single moment as eliciting a transcendent revelation of divine pleasure that extends throughout all existence. Twirling his hand in an upward sweep, the Rebbe declared: “With one act of self-subjugation, all realms are upturned!”
Marriage and Vocation
In 1965, Reb Meilich married Libby Blesofsky, and in the same year, he was appointed to the faculty of Tomchei Temimim yeshivah in Newark, N.J., which was later relocated to Morristown. When they first met, both parties were initially unsure that the match was right. Reb Meilich’s birthday occurred during this period, and he had a private audience with the Rebbe, as was customary at the time. When he disclosed his hesitations, the Rebbe indicated that he should set them aside. For her part, Libby forthrightly sought the Rebbe’s advice, asking in a written note whether “I should take interest in another option.” The Rebbe crossed out the last words of that sentence and added another line so that the note now indicated that she “should interest herself in a young man whose Torah is a living Torah, which speaks his praises—a chassid, a Torah scholar, a person of good character, etc., and G‑d will make her successful.”
Dancing with students in 1978 (5738)
Taking up his faculty position, Reb Meilich sought advice from the Rebbe regarding his personal curriculum of study. The latter pointed out that few yeshivah graduates ever achieve comprehensive knowledge of the Codes of Jewish Law—Tur, Shulchan Aruch and their many commentaries—and suggested that this would be a good personal goal. Over the course of the next 50 years, Reb Meilich kept up a rigorous program of study. His days ran like clockwork, and he often spoke of the merits of discipline, deliberation and order. He arrived and left the study hall at the same time each day, and had fixed times for eating, for meeting with students and for each of his many personal learning schedules.
In more recent decades, he only taught classes in Chassidism, rather than in Talmud or halachah. Yet he continued to study the Talmudic texts and commentaries that were on the yeshivah curriculum, returning to them anew year after year. And though there were Chassidic discourses that he likewise taught to one group of students after another, he never allowed himself to rely on his existing knowledge and enter a class unprepared. He was a perpetual student, capable of relearning and revisiting a text many times, always alert to unnoticed nuances and open to new discoveries. In more recent years, he often used an iPod stocked with audio recordings of the Rebbe’s talks. Always curious to hear from others, he would occasionally listen to classes in Chassidism from Rabbi Yoel Kahn, and in Talmud from Rabbi Asher Arieli or Rabbi Eliyahu Baruch Finkel.
From 1972 on, Reb Meilich headed the editorial staff of a scholarly journal, He’orot Anash Ve-ha-temimim, established primarily as a forum for the study and discussion of the Rebbe’s teachings. This journal, and others like it, would become a prime medium for scholarly interface—not only among the yeshivah students and other Chassidim, but also between them and the Rebbe himself. From the outset, the Rebbe took an active interest in these publications, and with the passage of time he began to respond to them in his public talks, and later to write notes and responses in their margins. Reb Meilich himself was an avid contributor to these journals, often writing under the pen name A. Rosen. In 2005, he helped publish a volume documenting the history of the Morristown journal, and collecting all the public talks and written notes in which the Rebbe responded to and took part in its discussions.
In the introduction to that volume, the editors noted that initially, some people were opposed to the idea that yeshivah students should critically discuss the Rebbe’s teachings in a public forum, asking questions and offering possible explanations. A rumor even spread that the Rebbe himself was displeased. Erring on the side of caution, publication was briefly halted until a member of the Rebbe’s secretariat called to ask why, and the editors got to work again. But there was still some doubt about what the Rebbe wanted, and so Reb Meilich arranged a private audience with the Rebbe to clarify the matter. He reported that the Rebbe was emphatic in his endorsement of the journal, noting that in response to the question of a certain rabbi, he had personally sent him a copy of the journal, saying, “here you will find your question, and here you will find your answer.”
Reason and Its Transcendence
Those words of the Rebbe—“here you will find your question, and here you will find your answer”—are a deserving epitaph for Reb Meilich himself. As a student in Morristown between 2006 and 2008, I learned a tremendous amount from him. What I found so refreshing was the conceptual clarity that he demanded both of himself and of others. He wanted his students to fully understand the questions, just as much as he wanted them to find answers. What is a good question? Why is it a good question? What kind of answer will meet its challenge and to what degree? He wanted us to use all the human capacity to think, to critically assess an idea, to determine the boundaries of logic, and ultimately, to use those capacities to discover the need to overcome such boundaries.
I recall Reb Meilich repeating Maimonides’ statement that Aristotle achieved the highest appreciation of G‑d that the human mind can achieve unaided by divine inspiration. In his Guide to the Perplexed, Reb Meilich added, Maimonides himself used only the tools of human intellect to probe and illuminate the truth of the Torah. Accordingly, human intellect itself becomes Torah, and before you read the Guide to the Perplexed, you must first recite the appropriate blessings just as if you were reading a passage from the Tanach or the Talmud.
It was Reb Meilich who first introduced me to the tale of Socrates’ death as told by Plato in the Phaedo. He did so during a class on the fifth Chabad Rebbe’s landmark series of discourses, known as Samach Vov, which re-examines the purpose of existence and the respective roles of immanent rationalism and transcendent revelation. And he did so with a Chassidic twist that he had heard from the Chassid Rabbi Avraham Drizin (Mayorer): Having proven the eternity of the soul, Socrates made no sacrifice, but exchanged the deficiencies of earthly reality for eternal bliss. The truer sacrifice was Abraham’s. He knew that it is precisely in the transformation of earthly deficiency that G‑d’s ultimate purpose lies. So in surrendering an earthly future, Abraham had to surrender his spiritual future as well, transcending every measure of reason to follow G‑d’s instruction.
A Mentor, Guide and Living Example
Reb Meilich was more than a scholar and more than a teacher. First and foremost, he was a mentor, a builder of relationships, a personal guide and a living example of what a Chassid should be. There were many students who didn’t necessarily attend his classes or follow what he said in them, and yet he was their mentor. He would call students into his office at regular intervals to discuss their studies and their spiritual progress, or simply to find a point of common interest and open the opportunity for a relationship.
As mentioned above, Reb Meilich always kept up with the yeshivah’s Talmud curriculum, and though it wasn’t his responsibility, this was another area in which he found opportunity to forge connections. In his office, he would not only quiz you on what you were learning, but also invite you to open a volume of Talmud and learn together with him. He would test your limits and challenge you, then show you the way to an additional line of thought or to an overlooked commentator to shed incisive light. Students who took advantage of these opportunities to engage and ask questions were continuously surprised not only by the breadth of his knowledge, but also by the fluent clarity and orderliness with which he discussed whatever topic was brought up.
His erudition was only overshadowed by his personal grace. The gentleness with which he carried his gravitas endeared him to everyone and enabled him to have a meaningful conversation with anyone. He addressed each of his students, and all who sought his inspiration or advice, according to their needs as individuals. When I asked him to be my mentor, he gave me a long reading list. He provided my friend, study partner and roommate—Mendy Efune—with a long reading list as well, and the two lists had very little overlap. Two very different personalities—with different qualities, sensibilities and inclinations—needed to be guided along different paths so that they could each achieve what they needed to as individuals.
As a mentor and a guide, the values that Reb Meilich perhaps emphasized most were discipline and consistency as the key to serving G‑d; and the need to form a personal bond with G‑d through contemplative prayer.
He would sometimes illustrate the first point with an anecdote about Rabbi Nissan Nemanow. While traveling by train, he once observed a student of his looking out the window at each station to see if he had arrived at his destination. Said the rabbi: “Rather than look out the window each time, you should make a note of how many stops you need to go and keep count of the passing stations in your head. Why look where there is no need to look?” Disciplined forethought, in other words, allows an individual to avoid unnecessary distractions and maximize the opportunities of every moment.
Regarding contemplative prayer a related anecdote comes to mind. The fourth Chabad Rebbe—Rabbi Shmuel Schneersohn (the Maharash)—once advised one of his followers that if he wants to know what a Chassid is, he should go and observe what his son and future successor, Rabbi Shalom DovBer Schneersohn, is occupied with early in the morning. Following this advice, the Chassid found that the Rebbe’s son was studying the prayer liturgy and consulting the classical commentaries to gain a proper working knowledge of what the prayers mean. The point that Reb Meilich was making was that you can’t expect to have a meaningful prayer experience if you haven’t done the rigorous preparatory work of familiarizing yourself with what you are actually saying to G‑d.
Reb Meilich’s own practice was to pray along with the congregation on weekdays. On Shabbat, however, he would pray at far greater length. He would begin together with the congregation, but would soon be left far behind. He would pause to listen to the Torah reading, and to the repetition of the Amidah and Musaf prayers. Then he would remain wrapped in his tallis for an hour or two after the congregation had finished and the study hall had emptied out, before vanishing into his office.
In addition to his seminal role at the yeshivah in Morristown, his expertise in halachah earned him a place on the executive board of the Central Committee of Chabad-Lubavitch Rabbis in the U.S. and Canada. As one of the foremost contemporary scholars of Chassidic thought and literature, he was also an involved member of the editorial board of Heichal Menachem-Chassidus Mevueres, whose elucidated commentaries to classic Chassidic texts have been received with much acclaim.
In addition to his wife, he is survived by his children: Moshe Zweibel (Brooklyn, N.Y.), Dina Gourarie (Sydney), Rabbi Yossi Zweibel (Brooklyn, N.Y.), Zeldy Oster (Los Angeles), Chani Goldberg (Morristown, N.J.), Rabbi Avi Zweibel (Ashland, Ore.) and Rabbi Mendy Zweibel (Chico, Calif.); as well as by many grandchildren and great-grandchildren.
He is also survived by siblings Moishe Zweibel (London), Devorah Goldberg (Montreal), Zushe Zweibel (Israel), Shoshana Plesser (Israel) and Sara Halperin (Israel). He was predeceased by his brother, Rabbi Yechezkal Zweibel, who headed Yeshiva Tiferet Yaakov in Jerusalem, which was named for their father.© Copyright 2016, all rights reserved.
Jewish News
The Untold Bar Mitzvah Story of Brooklyn Dodger Ralph Branca
By Dovid Margolin
Ralph Branca, the third youngest in a family of 17 children, with his parents, Katherine (Kati) and John Branca
Former Brooklyn Dodger pitching star Ralph Branca passed away on Tuesday morning at the age of 90. Most famous for giving up a 1951 pennant-winning home run to Bobby Thomson of the Dodgers’ cross-town rivals the New York Giants—known forever in baseball as the “Shot Heard Round the World”—Branca played 12 seasons in the majors and was known throughout his life as a first-class mensch.
What is perhaps less well known are his Jewish roots. Born to a Jewish mother but raised Catholic, Branca seldom spoke about his Judaism, although apparently was always aware of it.
“Ralph certainly knew about it,” says his nephew, Bill Branca. “The girls in the family, his sisters; they talked about it quite openly. The boys—Ralph, my dad, their brothers—they didn’t talk about it, but they all knew.”
While Ralph may not have had a bar mitzvah at age 13, he did have one years later, at age 84, when he first met and eventually wrapped tefillin with two Chabad-Lubavitch yeshivah students at his office in Rye Brook, N.Y.
Never Heard of Him
It was the winter of 2010 when Yisroel New and Mendy Marlow were making their weekly Friday afternoon trek from their Chabad yeshivah in the Crown Heights neighborhood of Brooklyn, N.Y., out to Rye Brook in Westchester County. Like thousands of similar Chabad rabbinical students their age around the world, the 19-year-old boys spent their Friday afternoons taking part in the mitzvah campaign of the Lubavitcher Rebbe—Rabbi Menachem M. Schneerson, of righteous memory—visiting Jewish businesspeople at the end of the work week to share a Torah thought for the week, offer Jewish men the chance to wrap tefillin and distribute Shabbat candles to Jewish women.
Arriving at a massive office complex called 800 Westchester Avenue, the yeshivah boys set up shop in the business center’s food court, hoping to meet Jewish business men and women on their lunch break. Two Chassidic yeshivah students in black hats and dark jackets isn’t the most common sight in a suburban office food court, and they met a fair number of curious people—Jews and non-Jews alike—with whom they engaged and often formed connections.
And that’s where they met Ralph Branca.
“Every week, we saw this really tall guy sitting at a table during his lunch break reading the paper,” recalls New. They finally approached him.
“You must be the Yiddish boys from Brooklyn,” the tall man told them. They talked; the man was warm and friendly.
Then he introduced himself: “I’m Ralph Branca.”
At the time, the yeshivah boys, to Branca’s surprise, had never heard of him.
“When you get home, you can look me up,” the three-time All-Star told them. “What are you guys doing here, anyway?”
They explained what they were doing, and Branca, who worked at an insurance firm in the complex at the time, invited them to come by his office the next week, telling them he’d round up some of his Jewish colleagues.
‘L’Chaim’ and Other Yiddish Words
The next week, Branca played some offense for the students, calling in his Jewish co-workers and introducing them to the boys from Brooklyn. The visits continued weekly, with Branca always gracious and welcoming, recall New and Marlow, regaling them with tales of his baseball career: He told them about his 3.79 career ERA, how the Giants stole the signs leading up to Thomson’s homer and his career-ending injury.
American major league pitcher Ray Caldwell in the first exhibition game at Ebbets Field, the home of the Brooklyn Dodgers, April 5, 1913. The dirt walkway visible between the mound and the plate disappeared after the 1910s. (Photo: Wikimedia Commons)
New chalked up Branca’s relatively familiar Yiddish-word dropping to the pitcher’s New York roots, having grown up, as he told them, around Jews and Italians. (Incidentally, the Dodgers’ old home at Ebbets Field in Crown Heights was only blocks away from Lubavitch World Headquarters at 770 Eastern Parkway.)
“He was writing his book, and he had this machine that he would dictate into,” relates New. “He was very excited about it. He’d be saying ‘l’chaim’ into it to show you how it worked.”
Branca enjoyed trying out some saltier Yiddish words on his Dragon dictation machine as well.
When he told the boys that he was the third youngest in a family of 17 kids, New balked. Seventeen children in a family sounded more like a Chassidic Jewish family to him—and that’s what he told him.
“Funny that you say that,” New and Marlow remember Branca replying. “My mom was born Jewish.”
‘He Wanted to Know Everything’
Branca’s mother, Katherine (Kati) Berger, had been born to a Jewish family in Hungary, immigrating to America in 1901 at the age of 16 (some of her siblings later perished in the Holocaust). His father, John, was an Italian Catholic, and Branca and his siblings were raised in the Catholic tradition. Of course, according to Jewish law, being born to a Jewish mother made Branca as Jewish as Moses, and that’s what the yeshivah boys told him.
“We hadn’t realized that he was Jewish,” says Marlow, “but everything he knew started making more sense to us.”
Branca told the boys he had never practiced Judaism and therefore did not feel himself to be a Jew. The boys responded that he was still Jewish and offered him to wrap tefillin with him for the first time.
“We told him about the idea of a mitzvah, and how each and every individual mitzvah counts,” says New. “When somebody gives tzedakah [charity], that $20 might not mean much to him, but it means a lot to that needy person who receives it. A mitzvah is the same. It might not mean much to him, but it matters very much to G‑d.”
“This week, I’ll do the tzedakah one,” Branca replied with a smile. As he had done every week, he folded up a $20 bill and slipped it into the boys’ pushka charity box.
New and Marlow were back the next week, again offering to help the right-hander put on tefillin. This time, Branca agreed.
“We wrapped the tefillin with him, and then said the Shema prayer in Hebrew and English,” says New. “In the beginning, it was like he was doing us a favor, but that changed as it went along. He wanted to know everything: Why do we wrap it seven times? Why on his left arm? We pointed out that the way we wrap the tefillin spells out one of G‑d’s names in Hebrew. He was fascinated.”
Branca’s right arm had made him famous, but his left arm had allowed him to pray as a Jew, connecting to the Jewish soul deep inside.
That day, Branca pulled out two photos of himself from his baseball heyday and signed them for his young rabbi friends: “To my rabbi friend, Mendy,” he wrote on Marlow’s picture. “Shalom!! Lechaim & blessings, Ralph Branca.”
Branca in 2004 (Photo: Wikimedia Commons)© Copyright 2016, all rights reserved.
Jewish News
New Jersey Rabbi Provides Thanksgiving Fare for Needy of All Backgrounds
By Eric Berger
Rabbi Eli Kornfeld, left, of Chabad of Hunterdon County in Clinton, N.J., addresses men recovering from addiction, gathered for a kosher Thanksgiving meal last year at the Chabad House. He, his wife Rachel and a team of volunteers are preparing to host another meal this year for about 100 men, along with delivering some 200 kosher turkeys and side dishes to those in need in the community.
Traci Jacob is looking forward to Thanksgiving, even though she grapples with two autoimmune diseases and has neck surgery scheduled for right after the holiday.
Fortunately, the 47-year-old will be able to host a meal with her parents and a friend on Thursday because of Chabad of Hunterdon County in Clinton, N.J. Rabbi Eli Kornfeld, his wife Rachel and volunteers will prepare and deliver a cooked kosher turkey—along with the usual sides of stuffing, mashed potatoes and green beans—to Jacob and others who are homebound.
Jacob, who is on disability and also received a meal last year, says “it makes it a lot easier to bring everyone together. You don’t have to worry about cooking. You don’t have that worry of going out to buy food for the meal, spending money. You have the rabbi and everyone helping you.”
Kornfeld delivered 125 meals last year. He also hosted a Thanksgiving meal at the Chabad House for residents of Freedom House—a local residential treatment facility for men struggling with addiction issues. And he again plans to do so again this week.
It makes no difference whether the recipients are Jewish, emphasizes the rabbi.
“We want everyone to feel part of this day. If it’s meaningful for them, it’s important for an organization like ours to make sure that those who are less fortunate can be lifted up. They should be able to be lifted up in the joys of their community,” says the Chabad rabbi and father of six.
This will be the fourth year that Kornfeld and a host of helpers deliver meals.
On Nov. 24, about 30 volunteers will gather in the morning at the Chabad House to help prepare and organize the food. Then they will start driving the meals around western New Jersey until about 3 p.m., when they will return to the Chabad House to help with the meal for the men who are in treatment. Kornfeld expects to host about 100 people and deliver about 200 meals.
“People come out in droves to get their hands dirty—to cook, to prepare, to cut, to peel, to donate—and I think that’s a big part of this. Bringing the community together, [bringing] those that can offer help with those that need it,” says the rabbi.
‘Unite People With Acts of Goodness’
Kornfeld, 39, adds that the program also boosts the significant number of area residents who have been affected by a current heroin epidemic.
Glenn King was at the peak of his heroin addiction when he entered Freedom House in 1991. He got sober and then started working as a driver for the organization, eventually becoming the executive director.
The nonprofit organization sometimes has “difficulty keeping our doors open,” acknowledges the 58-year-old King. Assistance in the form of the Thanksgiving meal allows the organization to use money that would have gone towards food into requisite treatment.
More importantly, King says, is the joining of various communities—Jews, Christians, African-Americans and Hispanics, among others. This will be the second time that Chabad has hosted the meal. People around the table last year were so appreciative that they stood up and said what they were thankful for; interestingly, reports King, “there was not a disparity [between residents and volunteers] in the expression of gratitude. People seemed to be grateful for some of the same things.”
King notes another important factor: that neither the rabbi nor the volunteers seem to judge residents of Freedom House, which puts everyone at ease.
CTeens helped cook last year for the Thanksgiving Day meals.
Cteens also made signs and decorations for the dinner at the Chabad House.
Kornfeld notes that this year’s meal will be especially important in the midst of concerns about racism and anti-Semitism in the United States. “The desperate hunger for positivity, for kindness, for respect for others is so needed in our country right now, to bridge divides and to unite people with acts of goodness,” he says.
One example of giving back, of performing good deeds, includes the work of the local CTeen chapter. Girls and boys helped cook and pack food last year, and made signs and decorations that welcomed guests to the Chabad House for dinner. They also pitched in to serve the buffet-style meal, alongside other volunteers.
CTeen is directed by Rabbi Shloime and Chana Greene, who work to provide educational, social and community-service programs for area teenagers. The young company also boosted spirits on Thanksgiving, as is certain to again this year.
And then there are the benefits to people like Jacob, who in addition to her health problems, which include multiple sclerosis and three herniated disks, lost custody of her children during a divorce when she was struggling with addiction. Still, she awaits Thanksgiving dinner, and then three days later will undergo surgery. She says she has already informed the hospital staff that she would like to see the rabbi afterwards.
As to what she’s grateful for: “I’m very blessed to have the rabbi and Chabad in my life.”
To request a Thanksgiving dinner for someone in need or make a contribution for the meals, contact Chabad of Hunterdon County.
Men from the locally based Freedom House filed into the Chabad House last year for Thanksgiving dinner, as they will do again this year. At left is Glenn King, executive director of Freedom House.
Volunteers, including CTeen members, serve the meal at Chabad of Hunterdon County.
Enjoying a full plate of food
Lining up for the buffet meal
King, right, wrestled with drug addicition before eventually becoming sober and working his way up the organization.
Participants stated what they were thankful for, including the joining together of various communities.
Rabbi Eli and Rachel Kornfeld, and family© Copyright 2016, all rights reserved.
Lifestyle
Food: Chinese-Style Chicken Potsticker Dumplings By Miriam Szokovski
One could argue that pot stickers are The Perfect Food. Crispy on the bottom, soft and tender on top, juicy, plump and flavorful inside... what more could you want? A little heat? That's what the dipping sauce is for!
I wouldn't call this a difficult dish to prepare, but can definitely be time-consuming, especially the first time. So I wouldn't recommend it for an I-just-got-home-from-work-and-dinner-needs-to-be-ready-in-30-minutes meal. But do make it! Save it for an I'm-in-the-mood-for-cooking-and-not-particularly-rushed occasion.
Dough Ingredients:
3 cups all-purpose flour
1 cup water
1 tbsp. oil
1 tsp. salt
Filling Ingredients:
1 lb. (450 grams) ground chicken
3 mushrooms, very finely diced
2 scallions, finely sliced
1 tbsp. soy sauce
1 tbsp. rice vinegar
1 ½ tsp. sesame oil
Directions:
Mix the dough ingredients together until the mixture forms a smooth ball. Cover the dough with a damp towel and let it rest for 30 minutes.
In a separate bowl, combine all the filling ingredients and mix until just combined.
Divide the dough into 4 pieces. Remove one piece at a time and keep the rest covered with a damp towel so it doesn't dry out. Roll the first piece of dough thinly (approximately 2mm or 1/16th of an inch) and cut out as many circles as will fit. Peel away the extra dough and place it back under the towel so you can re-roll it later. (For easy non-stick rolling, roll the dough between two sheets of parchment paper.)
Place a teaspoon of filling in the center of each dough circle. Gently pinch together the sides to form a half-moon shape with pleated edges. (You can find tutorials of this on YouTube if you're not sure how.) Be careful not to overfill, or they will be too difficult to seal.
Set sealed dumplings aside and cover with a damp towel while you work through the remaining dough and filling.
Heat 1-2 tbsp. oil in a frying pan that has a lid (or a wide-bottomed pot). When the oil is hot, place as many potstickers as will fit without touching each other. Fry for approximately 2 minutes, then add a splash of water to the pan (1-2 tbsp.) and cover. Let the dumplings steam through for a couple of minutes so the filling gets cooked. Uncover and leave over the heat for another minute. Remove the largest dumpling and cut it open to check that the filling is cooked. If it is, remove the rest and repeat with the next batch. If it's not cooked through, add another splash of water, cover, cook, and check again. When ready, the bottoms should be crispy, the sides tender, the filling plump and juicy.
Repeat until all dumplings have been cooked. Serve with dipping sauce (recipe below) and a sprinkle of sesame seeds and scallion (optional).
Dipping Sauce Ingredients:
1 scallion, sliced
1/2 chili pepper, sliced
2 tbsp. sesame oil
6 tbsp. soy sauce
1 tsp. rice vinegar
1-2 tbsp. honey
2-3 cloves garlic, sliced
1-inch piece ginger, sliced
sesame seeds
Directions:
Slice scallions, red chili pepper, garlic and ginger.
Whisk all ingredients together.
Serve with dumplings.
Note: The longer the sauce sits, the spicier it gets, so if you prepare it in advance, you may want to leave out the chili pepper and add it in shortly before serving.
Yields: 40 dumplings
Miriam Szokovski is the author of the historical novel Exiled Down Under, and a member of the Chabad.org editorial team. She shares her love of cooking, baking and food photography on Chabad.org’s food blog, Cook It Kosher.© Copyright 2016, all rights reserved.
Lifestyle
Art: Praying for Peace By Shoshanah Findling
This prayer of peace is said every day in the Amidah. It is wrapped around the dove. Her wings are spread so she may fly around the world to spread a prayer of peace for all. In her mouth is a golden olive branch with 12 leaves to represent the 12 tribes. The background is a vibrant mosaic to represent the Jews of all backgrounds. We are all connected to one another by our shared heritage. The eye is a globe to represent the world is watching.
Shoshanah Findling was born and raised in Brooklyn. She currently resides in Hewlett, NY. She is a self-trained artist and graduate professor of education and school counseling at Touro College. She also serves as the president of the Long Beach Art League. She enjoys painting themes of unity and peace. Her use of multiple vibrant colors depict thriving Jewish life and diversity.© Copyright 2016, all rights reserved.
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Chabad.org Magazine - Editor: Yanki Tauber
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What Do Souls Talk About? Chabad Magazine of Brooklyn, New York, United States for Tuesday,
Cheshvan 14, 5777 · November 15, 2016Editor's Note:
Dear Friend,
They say that the best way to learn is to teach. My second-grade students and I have been studying the lives of Abraham and Sarah, and the stories have taken on a new significance to me as I view them through my students’ eyes.
Woven through the narrative is Abraham and Sarah’s childlessness. G‑d assured them that their descendants would be a great nation, as numerous as the stars of the heaven and the dust of the earth. Yet decades passed before G‑d’s promise of a child was fulfilled and Isaac was born.
Our sages note that the news of Sarah’s pregnancy directly follows the account of Abraham’s prayers on behalf of Abimelech, king of Gerar, and his household. “Whoever begs for mercy for his friend, when he needs the same thing, he is answered first,” this juxtaposition teaches us. Even before Abraham’s prayers drew down G‑d’s blessings upon Abimelech, it brought about the realization of G‑d’s promise to him and Sarah.
How powerful it is when we can look beyond our own circumstances and empathize with the pain of another! Like Abraham, let us offer wholehearted prayers, a listening ear, and a helping hand for friends in need, and may we merit G‑d’s blessings in abundance.
Rochel Chein
responder for Ask the Rabbi @ Chabad.org
Come of Days
“And Abraham was aged, come of days.”(Genesis 24:1)
Abraham, we are told, was not just aged, but “come of days.” Meaning, he entered into his days.
Within each moment of life, whatever it was he needed to do, he invested his entire being.
And so he owned every day of his life. His life was his.
This Week's Features
Printable Magazine
Who was Lot? Hero or Villain?
The Bible and Midrash Tell Us It’s Complicated…
By Yehuda ShurpinThe Torah is filled with good guys and bad guys. And then there are those who don’t quite fit into either category. Was Lot, nephew of Abraham, a hero or a villain? As we go through his somewhat contradictory life story, I’ll leave it to you to decide...
Orphaned at an Early Age
Not much is known about Lot’s mother, but we do know that his father was Haran, brother of Abraham, who died at a relatively young age.
The Midrash gives us the backstory of Haran’s death:
Nimrod [the mightiest man of the era] said to Abraham, “I shall cast you into the fire and let your G‑d to whom you bow come and save you from it!” Haran was standing there and said to himself: “What shall I do? If Abraham wins, I shall say: ‘I am of Abraham’s’; if Nimrod wins, I shall say, ‘I am of Nimrod’s.’ ” When Abraham went into the furnace and survived, Haran was asked: “Whose are you?” and he answered: “I am Abraham’s!” So, they took him and threw him into the furnace, and his innards were burned and he died before Terah, his father. This is the meaning of the verse “And Haran died in the lifetime of his father Terah.”12
After his father’s death, Lot travelled with his grandfather Terah and then later with Abraham to the land of Canaan.
The Midrash also tells us that Lot bore a striking resemblance to his famous uncle, Abraham.3
Abraham and Lot Quarrel
When famine hit the Land of Canaan in the year 2023 from Creation (1738 BCE), Abraham, together with his wife Sarah and nephew Lot, travelled to Egypt. Fearing that the Egyptians would take his beautiful wife Sarah and kill him, Abraham concocted a plan in which he claimed that Sarah was really his sister. Lot followed along with Abraham’s plan and remained silent, not revealing their secret. According to the commentaries, it was in the merit of this act that Lot himself was saved from the city of Sodom (more on that later).4
As Abraham and Lot returned from Egypt, laden with gold, silver and cattle,5a quarrel broke out between their shepherds (and according to the Midrash, between Abraham and Lot as well6). The verse tells us that their quarrel was due to their vast possessions and that the land could not “bear them both dwelling together.” The Midrash explains that Lot’s herdsmen pastured their animals in fields belonging to others, while Abraham’s herdsmen rebuked them for committing robbery. Lot’s herdsmen responded, “The land was given to Abraham, who has no heir, so Lot will inherit him, and therefore this is not robbery.” However, the verse continues, “The Canaanites and the Perizzites were then dwelling in the land,” i.e., Abraham had not yet been awarded its possession.7
Additionally, the Zohar tells us that Lot had some leanings toward idolatry at that time.8
As a kinsman of Lot, Abraham wished to keep the peace, and they decided to split up. Although Lot knew that the people of Sodom were exceedingly wicked,9 he journeyed eastward and pitched his tent near Sodom, while Abraham settled in Canaan.
Blood Is Thicker Than Water
Chedarlaomer, the powerful king of Elam, together with the help of three neighboring kings, crushed the rebellious cities of Sodom, Gomorrah, Admah, Zebaim and Bela (also called Zoar), taking many of the inhabitants captive—including Lot.
When a messenger with the news of Lot’s capture reached Abraham in the plains of Mamre, Abraham, without hesitation about the overwhelming odds, immediately gathered his 318 men10 to pursue Chedarlaomer’s army. He was miraculously victorious and freed all the captives, including his nephew Lot.
The Sins of Sodom Tip the Scales
The abundance of wealth and luxury caused inhabitants of Sodom and the surrounding cities to become increasingly wicked. In the year 2048 (1714 BCE), 25 years after Lot settled in Sodom, G‑d finally decided it was time to destroy Sodom.
The Talmud describes many of the sins and cruelties of the inhabitants of Sodom, including immorality and bloodshed. But they were particularly against the concept of charity. The Talmud describes one especially cruel act that illustrates this:
A certain maiden gave some bread to a poor man, [hiding it] in a pitcher. On the matter becoming known, they daubed her with honey and placed her on the parapet of the wall, and the bees came and consumed her. When the dying cries of this maiden pierced the heavens final judgement was rendered to destroy the cities.11
According to a Midrash, this maiden was non other than Plitith, one of Lot’s daughter’s.12
G‑d Sends Angels to Save Lot and His Family
G‑d informed Abraham that He would destroy Sodom, and Abraham pleaded on their behalf, asking if G‑d would save the city in the merit of at least 10 righteous people who lived there.
According to some, the number 10 was specific. Abraham thought that Lot, together with his wife Idith (a Sodomite woman), two married daughters and two unmarried daughters, together with their husbands and fiances, would amount to 10 worthy people. However, none of the sons-in-law were worthy.13 G‑d sent two angels to Sodom, one to destroy the city and another to rescue Lot and his family.
Here’s it how it happened:
Although he had been associating with the Sodomites for many years, Lot could never forget completely his uncle Abraham’s teachings and way of life and did not share in the Sodomites’ cruel treatment of unfortunate passers-by.
Lot had just been appointed judge in Sodom and was sitting at the gates of Sodom when he saw two strangers. He greeted them and invited them to his tent, although he knew full well that he risked his life by doing so. The strangers at first refused, but after Lot persuaded them, they finally agreed to follow him into his house.
The people of Sodom, having learned of the presence of strangers, surrounded Lot’s house. They demanded that Lot give up the two visitors to be dealt with “in the usual manner.” As he tried to quiet them, he told them, “Behold now, I have two daughters who were not intimate with a man. I will bring them out to you, and do to them as you see fit; only to these men do nothing, because they have come under the shadow of my roof."14 This statement is perhaps the most revealing of Lot’s character. On the one hand, he was ready to put his life in danger to save his guests; on the other hand, he didn’t hesitate to offer up his own daughters to the mob outside.
The angels pulled Lot back into the house and struck the attacking mob with blindness, so that they could not force their way into Lot’s house.
The angels told Lot to take his entire family and leave the city immediately, but Lot’s sons-in-law were Sodomites and refused to leave their homes. In the morning, the angels took Lot, his wife and two single daughters, and led them out of the town, forbidding them to turn back and look at the city. Lot’s wife, Idith, couldn't resist, and as she turned around to see what happened, she turned into a pillar of salt.
The Seeds of the Messiah
Lot and his two daughters fled to a cave in the mountains. Finding some wine in the cave and fearing that most of mankind was destroyed, the two daughters got their father drunk and took turns sleeping with him. Both of them begot a child from that union. The elder daughter called her child Moab, and the younger one called her child Ammon.
This is the last record we have of Lot, and perhaps a most fitting conclusion. On the one hand, the last we hear of him, his daughters get him intoxicated and have intimate relations with him. On the other hand, the mystics point out, the descendents of Moab include Ruth, King David—and eventually the Moshiach himself. Thus, perhaps the best answer to our question whether Lot was a hero or not is... it’s complicated.
FOOTNOTES
1.Genesis 11:28.
2.Midrash, Bereishit Rabbah 38:11.
3.Midrash, Bereishit Rabbah 41:6.
4.Midrash Rabbah, ibid., cited by Rashi on Genesis 19:29.
5.Genesis 13:2.
6.See Midrash, Bereishit Rabbah 41:6.
7.Midrash, Bereishit Rabbah 41:5.
8.Zohar 1:84a.
9.Genesis 13:13.
10.See Talmud, Nedarim 32a, and Midrash, Bereishit Rabbah 43:2 (cited by Rashi), that according to some, he gathered just one man, his servant Eliezer, whose name is the numerical value of 318.
11.Talmud, Sanhedrin 109a.
12.See Sefer Hayashar.
13.See Midrash, Bereishit Rabbah 49:25, and commentary Matnat Kehunah ad loc.
14.Genesis 19:8.
BY YEHUDA SHURPIN
Rabbi Yehuda Shurpin responds to questions for Chabad.org's Ask the Rabbi service.
Artwork by Sefira Ross, a freelance designer and illustrator whose original creations grace many Chabad.org pages. Residing in Seattle, Washington, her days are spent between multitasking illustrations and being a mom.© Copyright, all rights reserved. If you enjoyed this article, we encourage you to distribute it further, provided that you comply with Chabad.org's copyright policy.
VIDEO
What Souls Talk About
A chassidic tale on two approaches to life
By Yossy Gordon
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Needed: Just ONE Volunteer
Looking for just one volunteer to do something that will change the world. Can we count on YOU?
By Chana Weisberg
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A Matter of Choice
A Jew shares a relationship with G-d on two levels, that of the soul and that of the body. While the Tanya relates that the soul is “a veritable part of G-d above,” and its relationship to G-d is like that of a parent and child, the value of the body is often overlooked.
Watch (7:00)
http://www.chabad.org/2741436
PARSHAH
Why Ishmael Was Rejected
Underlying the tension was the question of succession: which of Abraham’s two children would be the one chosen to carry on his legacy.
By Menachem Feldman
This week's Parshah describes the bitter tension in Abraham’s home. Underlying the tension was the question of succession: which of Abraham’s two children would be the one chosen to carry on his legacy.
Each of the patriarchs of the Jewish people, explain the Kabbalists, personify one of three basic emotions. Abraham personified the emotion of kindness; Isaac personified awe; and Jacob personified compassion. Being that they are our ancestors, eachWho would carry on Abraham's legacy? of us contains a part of them in our spiritual makeup.
Reading the stories of Abraham, the theme of kindness appears again and again. Abraham made it his life’s mission is to invite travelers into his tent. He loved all people. He prayed to G‑d to save the wicked people of Sodom.
Abraham’s oldest child, Ishmael (the son of Hagar, the maidservant he married at the request of his wife, Sarah), also embodied kindness. Abraham therefore felt a unique connection to Ishmael. Not only was Ishmael his oldest son, but Ishmael also shared his passion for kindness, leading Abraham to hope that Ishmael would be the one to carry on his legacy.
That was not meant to be.
In this week’s portion we read about Sarah pressuring Abraham to send Ishmael away, as she felt he was a bad influence on her son, Isaac. G‑d instructs Abraham to listen to Sarah, leaving him no choice but to expel his own son from his home. G‑d reassures Abraham that Ishmael would be blessed, but also makes it clear that Isaac would be Abraham's spiritual heir, the one who would carry on his legacy.
Sarah saw the son of Hagar the Egyptian, whom she had borne to Abraham, making merry. And Sarah said to Abraham, “Drive out this handmaid and her son, for the son of this handmaid shall not inherit with my son, with Isaac.” But the matter greatly displeased Abraham, concerning his son. And G‑d said to Abraham, “Be not displeased concerning the lad and concerning your handmaid; whatever Sarah tells you, hearken to her voice, for in Isaac will be called your seed. But also the son of the handmaid I will make into a nation, because he is your seed.”1
Observing both of Abraham’s sons, it seems that Ishmael should have been the one to carry on the legacy of his father. After all, Ishmael shared the attribute of kindness with his father, while Isaac (who embodied the attribute of awe and fear) seemed to be very different. Why then was Isaac chosen?
While Abraham and Ishmael both performed kindness, the motivating force behind their actions could not be further apart. Once we examine the motivation behind Abraham's kindness, we will see that Isaac was much closer to Abraham than Ishmael could ever be.
There are two types of motivation for kindness.2 Abraham’s kindness was motivated by his humility. As Abraham says while praying for the people of Sodom, “I am but dust and ashes.”3 The humble person perceives everyone else as being greater than him. When he sees someone else in need, he will do anything in his power to help theThe motivating force behind their actions could not be further apart stranger who, the humble person believes, is more deserving than him. This was the kindness of Abraham.
On the other hand, Ishmael's kindness was not motivated by humility, but by arrogance. Ishmael felt that because he was greater than the people around him, he should be the one to provide for them, so that his superiority would be apparent. His kindness did not lead him closer to people. His kindness, fueled by his arrogance, pushed him farther away from the very people he helped.
G‑d’s message to Abraham was that Jewish kindness must be motivated by humility, not by arrogance. Therefore, the son best suited to carry on Abraham’s legacy, was Isaac, who embodied the attribute of awe and fear, qualities which, rooted in humility, make him like his father Abraham.4
FOOTNOTES
1.Genesis 21:9-13.
2.See Or Hatorah, Vayeira, p. 93.
3.Genesis 18:27.
4.Yes, Isaac is more reserved. Isaac does not always jump in to the rescue. Isaac motivates a people to help themselves. Isaac is filled with humility. He sees the great potential within others, and that, in some case, true kindness is allowing others to solve their problems on their own. This, however, is a subject for another essay.
BY MENACHEM FELDMAN
Rabbi Menachem Feldman serves as the director of the Lifelong Learning department at the Chabad Lubavitch Center in Greenwich, Conn.
Artwork by Sefira Ross, a freelance designer and illustrator whose original creations grace many Chabad.org pages. Residing in Seattle, Washington, her days are spent between multitasking illustrations and being a mom.© Copyright, all rights reserved. If you enjoyed this article, we encourage you to distribute it further, provided that you comply with Chabad.org's copyright policy.
Who was Lot? Hero or Villain?
The Bible and Midrash Tell Us It’s Complicated…
By Yehuda Shurpin
The Torah is filled with good guys and bad guys. And then there are those who don’t quite fit into either category. Was Lot, nephew of Abraham, a hero or a villain? As we go through his somewhat contradictory life story, I’ll leave it to you to decide...Orphaned at an Early Age
Not much is known about Lot’s mother, but we do know that his father was Haran, brother of Abraham, who died at a relatively young age.
The Midrash gives us the backstory of Haran’s death:
Nimrod [the mightiest man of the era] said to Abraham, “I shall cast you into the fire and let your G‑d to whom you bow come and save you from it!” Haran was standing there and said to himself: “What shall I do? If Abraham wins, I shall say: ‘I am of Abraham’s’; if Nimrod wins, I shall say, ‘I am of Nimrod’s.’ ” When Abraham went into the furnace and survived, Haran was asked: “Whose are you?” and he answered: “I am Abraham’s!” So, they took him and threw him into the furnace, and his innards were burned and he died before Terah, his father. This is the meaning of the verse “And Haran died in the lifetime of his father Terah.”12
After his father’s death, Lot travelled with his grandfather Terah and then later with Abraham to the land of Canaan.
The Midrash also tells us that Lot bore a striking resemblance to his famous uncle, Abraham.3
Abraham and Lot Quarrel
When famine hit the Land of Canaan in the year 2023 from Creation (1738 BCE), Abraham, together with his wife Sarah and nephew Lot, travelled to Egypt. Fearing that the Egyptians would take his beautiful wife Sarah and kill him, Abraham concocted a plan in which he claimed that Sarah was really his sister. Lot followed along with Abraham’s plan and remained silent, not revealing their secret. According to the commentaries, it was in the merit of this act that Lot himself was saved from the city of Sodom (more on that later).4
As Abraham and Lot returned from Egypt, laden with gold, silver and cattle,5a quarrel broke out between their shepherds (and according to the Midrash, between Abraham and Lot as well6). The verse tells us that their quarrel was due to their vast possessions and that the land could not “bear them both dwelling together.” The Midrash explains that Lot’s herdsmen pastured their animals in fields belonging to others, while Abraham’s herdsmen rebuked them for committing robbery. Lot’s herdsmen responded, “The land was given to Abraham, who has no heir, so Lot will inherit him, and therefore this is not robbery.” However, the verse continues, “The Canaanites and the Perizzites were then dwelling in the land,” i.e., Abraham had not yet been awarded its possession.7
Additionally, the Zohar tells us that Lot had some leanings toward idolatry at that time.8
As a kinsman of Lot, Abraham wished to keep the peace, and they decided to split up. Although Lot knew that the people of Sodom were exceedingly wicked,9 he journeyed eastward and pitched his tent near Sodom, while Abraham settled in Canaan.
Blood Is Thicker Than Water
Chedarlaomer, the powerful king of Elam, together with the help of three neighboring kings, crushed the rebellious cities of Sodom, Gomorrah, Admah, Zebaim and Bela (also called Zoar), taking many of the inhabitants captive—including Lot.
When a messenger with the news of Lot’s capture reached Abraham in the plains of Mamre, Abraham, without hesitation about the overwhelming odds, immediately gathered his 318 men10 to pursue Chedarlaomer’s army. He was miraculously victorious and freed all the captives, including his nephew Lot.
The Sins of Sodom Tip the Scales
The abundance of wealth and luxury caused inhabitants of Sodom and the surrounding cities to become increasingly wicked. In the year 2048 (1714 BCE), 25 years after Lot settled in Sodom, G‑d finally decided it was time to destroy Sodom.
The Talmud describes many of the sins and cruelties of the inhabitants of Sodom, including immorality and bloodshed. But they were particularly against the concept of charity. The Talmud describes one especially cruel act that illustrates this:
A certain maiden gave some bread to a poor man, [hiding it] in a pitcher. On the matter becoming known, they daubed her with honey and placed her on the parapet of the wall, and the bees came and consumed her. When the dying cries of this maiden pierced the heavens final judgement was rendered to destroy the cities.11
According to a Midrash, this maiden was non other than Plitith, one of Lot’s daughter’s.12
G‑d Sends Angels to Save Lot and His Family
G‑d informed Abraham that He would destroy Sodom, and Abraham pleaded on their behalf, asking if G‑d would save the city in the merit of at least 10 righteous people who lived there.
According to some, the number 10 was specific. Abraham thought that Lot, together with his wife Idith (a Sodomite woman), two married daughters and two unmarried daughters, together with their husbands and fiances, would amount to 10 worthy people. However, none of the sons-in-law were worthy.13 G‑d sent two angels to Sodom, one to destroy the city and another to rescue Lot and his family.
Here’s it how it happened:
Although he had been associating with the Sodomites for many years, Lot could never forget completely his uncle Abraham’s teachings and way of life and did not share in the Sodomites’ cruel treatment of unfortunate passers-by.
Lot had just been appointed judge in Sodom and was sitting at the gates of Sodom when he saw two strangers. He greeted them and invited them to his tent, although he knew full well that he risked his life by doing so. The strangers at first refused, but after Lot persuaded them, they finally agreed to follow him into his house.
The people of Sodom, having learned of the presence of strangers, surrounded Lot’s house. They demanded that Lot give up the two visitors to be dealt with “in the usual manner.” As he tried to quiet them, he told them, “Behold now, I have two daughters who were not intimate with a man. I will bring them out to you, and do to them as you see fit; only to these men do nothing, because they have come under the shadow of my roof."14 This statement is perhaps the most revealing of Lot’s character. On the one hand, he was ready to put his life in danger to save his guests; on the other hand, he didn’t hesitate to offer up his own daughters to the mob outside.
The angels pulled Lot back into the house and struck the attacking mob with blindness, so that they could not force their way into Lot’s house.
The angels told Lot to take his entire family and leave the city immediately, but Lot’s sons-in-law were Sodomites and refused to leave their homes. In the morning, the angels took Lot, his wife and two single daughters, and led them out of the town, forbidding them to turn back and look at the city. Lot’s wife, Idith, couldn't resist, and as she turned around to see what happened, she turned into a pillar of salt.
The Seeds of the Messiah
Lot and his two daughters fled to a cave in the mountains. Finding some wine in the cave and fearing that most of mankind was destroyed, the two daughters got their father drunk and took turns sleeping with him. Both of them begot a child from that union. The elder daughter called her child Moab, and the younger one called her child Ammon.
This is the last record we have of Lot, and perhaps a most fitting conclusion. On the one hand, the last we hear of him, his daughters get him intoxicated and have intimate relations with him. On the other hand, the mystics point out, the descendents of Moab include Ruth, King David—and eventually the Moshiach himself. Thus, perhaps the best answer to our question whether Lot was a hero or not is... it’s complicated.
FOOTNOTES
1.Genesis 11:28.
2.Midrash, Bereishit Rabbah 38:11.
3.Midrash, Bereishit Rabbah 41:6.
4.Midrash Rabbah, ibid., cited by Rashi on Genesis 19:29.
5.Genesis 13:2.
6.See Midrash, Bereishit Rabbah 41:6.
7.Midrash, Bereishit Rabbah 41:5.
8.Zohar 1:84a.
9.Genesis 13:13.
10.See Talmud, Nedarim 32a, and Midrash, Bereishit Rabbah 43:2 (cited by Rashi), that according to some, he gathered just one man, his servant Eliezer, whose name is the numerical value of 318.
11.Talmud, Sanhedrin 109a.
12.See Sefer Hayashar.
13.See Midrash, Bereishit Rabbah 49:25, and commentary Matnat Kehunah ad loc.
14.Genesis 19:8.
BY YEHUDA SHURPIN
Rabbi Yehuda Shurpin responds to questions for Chabad.org's Ask the Rabbi service.
Artwork by Sefira Ross, a freelance designer and illustrator whose original creations grace many Chabad.org pages. Residing in Seattle, Washington, her days are spent between multitasking illustrations and being a mom.© Copyright, all rights reserved. If you enjoyed this article, we encourage you to distribute it further, provided that you comply with Chabad.org's copyright policy.
VIDEO
What Souls Talk About
A chassidic tale on two approaches to life
By Yossy Gordon
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A Matter of Choice
A Jew shares a relationship with G-d on two levels, that of the soul and that of the body. While the Tanya relates that the soul is “a veritable part of G-d above,” and its relationship to G-d is like that of a parent and child, the value of the body is often overlooked.
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PARSHAH
Why Ishmael Was Rejected
Underlying the tension was the question of succession: which of Abraham’s two children would be the one chosen to carry on his legacy.
By Menachem Feldman
This week's Parshah describes the bitter tension in Abraham’s home. Underlying the tension was the question of succession: which of Abraham’s two children would be the one chosen to carry on his legacy.Each of the patriarchs of the Jewish people, explain the Kabbalists, personify one of three basic emotions. Abraham personified the emotion of kindness; Isaac personified awe; and Jacob personified compassion. Being that they are our ancestors, eachWho would carry on Abraham's legacy? of us contains a part of them in our spiritual makeup.
Reading the stories of Abraham, the theme of kindness appears again and again. Abraham made it his life’s mission is to invite travelers into his tent. He loved all people. He prayed to G‑d to save the wicked people of Sodom.
Abraham’s oldest child, Ishmael (the son of Hagar, the maidservant he married at the request of his wife, Sarah), also embodied kindness. Abraham therefore felt a unique connection to Ishmael. Not only was Ishmael his oldest son, but Ishmael also shared his passion for kindness, leading Abraham to hope that Ishmael would be the one to carry on his legacy.
That was not meant to be.
In this week’s portion we read about Sarah pressuring Abraham to send Ishmael away, as she felt he was a bad influence on her son, Isaac. G‑d instructs Abraham to listen to Sarah, leaving him no choice but to expel his own son from his home. G‑d reassures Abraham that Ishmael would be blessed, but also makes it clear that Isaac would be Abraham's spiritual heir, the one who would carry on his legacy.
Sarah saw the son of Hagar the Egyptian, whom she had borne to Abraham, making merry. And Sarah said to Abraham, “Drive out this handmaid and her son, for the son of this handmaid shall not inherit with my son, with Isaac.” But the matter greatly displeased Abraham, concerning his son. And G‑d said to Abraham, “Be not displeased concerning the lad and concerning your handmaid; whatever Sarah tells you, hearken to her voice, for in Isaac will be called your seed. But also the son of the handmaid I will make into a nation, because he is your seed.”1
Observing both of Abraham’s sons, it seems that Ishmael should have been the one to carry on the legacy of his father. After all, Ishmael shared the attribute of kindness with his father, while Isaac (who embodied the attribute of awe and fear) seemed to be very different. Why then was Isaac chosen?
While Abraham and Ishmael both performed kindness, the motivating force behind their actions could not be further apart. Once we examine the motivation behind Abraham's kindness, we will see that Isaac was much closer to Abraham than Ishmael could ever be.
There are two types of motivation for kindness.2 Abraham’s kindness was motivated by his humility. As Abraham says while praying for the people of Sodom, “I am but dust and ashes.”3 The humble person perceives everyone else as being greater than him. When he sees someone else in need, he will do anything in his power to help theThe motivating force behind their actions could not be further apart stranger who, the humble person believes, is more deserving than him. This was the kindness of Abraham.
On the other hand, Ishmael's kindness was not motivated by humility, but by arrogance. Ishmael felt that because he was greater than the people around him, he should be the one to provide for them, so that his superiority would be apparent. His kindness did not lead him closer to people. His kindness, fueled by his arrogance, pushed him farther away from the very people he helped.
G‑d’s message to Abraham was that Jewish kindness must be motivated by humility, not by arrogance. Therefore, the son best suited to carry on Abraham’s legacy, was Isaac, who embodied the attribute of awe and fear, qualities which, rooted in humility, make him like his father Abraham.4
FOOTNOTES
1.Genesis 21:9-13.
2.See Or Hatorah, Vayeira, p. 93.
3.Genesis 18:27.
4.Yes, Isaac is more reserved. Isaac does not always jump in to the rescue. Isaac motivates a people to help themselves. Isaac is filled with humility. He sees the great potential within others, and that, in some case, true kindness is allowing others to solve their problems on their own. This, however, is a subject for another essay.
BY MENACHEM FELDMAN
Rabbi Menachem Feldman serves as the director of the Lifelong Learning department at the Chabad Lubavitch Center in Greenwich, Conn.
Artwork by Sefira Ross, a freelance designer and illustrator whose original creations grace many Chabad.org pages. Residing in Seattle, Washington, her days are spent between multitasking illustrations and being a mom.© Copyright, all rights reserved. If you enjoyed this article, we encourage you to distribute it further, provided that you comply with Chabad.org's copyright policy.
How to Let Go of a Dream
Have you ever made great plans that went down the drain?
By Gitty Adler
Have you ever made great plans that went down the drain?
Did you ever dream big, only to realize that it was just a dream?
Were you excited about your ambitions, and then shocked, surprised and maybe even defeated when they didn’t come to fruition?
In the beginning of our prayers every morning, we read about the Akeida. It’s the story of a father being ready to sacrifice his only son to fulfill G‑d’s will.
This is how it started.
Abraham and Sarah did not have children for many years. But they held on tightly to G‑d’s promise that they would have a child who would be the start of a great nation.
You can only imagine Abraham and Sarah’s joy when Isaac was born to them in their old age. You can only imagine the love they had for their only, long-awaited son, and the dreams they had for him, and for the great nation that was to be.
But time passed. Isaac was 37 years old. He was not married. There was no nation yet. And one fine day, G‑d told Abraham: “Take your only son, the one that you love, and go where I will show you. There you should offer him up as a sacrifice.”
Hold on. If Abraham would offer Issac as a sacrifice, what would happen to the promised great nation? Why would G‑d give Abraham dreams, only to crush them?
But Abraham stood strong in his faith, ready to follow G‑d’s instructions. And then, just as Abraham was about to slaughter his son, an angel stopped him, and forbade him from harming Isaac with even a scratch.
G‑d acknowledged Abraham’s faithfulness and blessed him abundantly. And the next day, life was back to normal.
Wait, what? What kind of game was G‑d trying to play with Abraham?
After the angel stopped Abraham from harming Isaac, G‑d told Abraham: “You did not withhold your only son, the one you love, from Me.” G‑d had found what he was looking for: Abraham’s unwavering commitment, his absolute faith.
Sometimes, we get so caught up with running our lives and dreaming big for ourselves. We think we know what’s best for us, and we think we know what we’re best for. We’re running towards our glorious future.
And then, G‑d says: “Take what you love most, and go where I will show you.”
The best path in life is G‑d’s path.
Sometimes, G‑d sends us a little reminder that He is in charge, that He knows best. And He does. He knows an even better best than the one we were imagining. G‑d has bigger dreams for us than we do. All we have to do is show G‑d our unwavering commitment.
And you know what, once G‑d found this commitment from Abraham, Isaac went home unscathed, and Abraham was blessed even more than he had been before this test.
At the end of the day, when we commit ourselves to following G‑d’s path, G‑d is on our side.
BY GITTY ADLER
Gitty Adler was raised in Bournemouth, England, where her parents are Chabad Emissaries. She and her husband currently live in Brooklyn, where she teaches.
Artwork by Sefira Ross, a freelance designer and illustrator whose original creations grace many Chabad.org pages. Residing in Seattle, Washington, her days are spent between multitasking illustrations and being a mom.© Copyright, all rights reserved. If you enjoyed this article, we encourage you to distribute it further, provided that you comply with Chabad.org's copyright policy.
Learn the Parshah in Depth
A condensation of the weekly Torah portion alongside select commentaries culled from the Midrash, Talmud, Chassidic masters, and the broad corpus of Jewish scholarship.
G‑d drew the sun out of its sheath, so that the righteous one should not be troubled with wayfarers. Abraham sent Eliezer out [to seek travelers], but he found none. Said Abraham, “I do not believe you,” and himself went out, and saw G‑d standing at the door.
Who were the three men? The angels Michael, Gabriel and Raphael. Michael (“Who is like G‑d?”) came to bring the tidings to Sarah of Isaac’s birth; Raphael (“Healing of G‑d”), to heal Abraham; and Gabriel (“Might of G‑d”), to overturn Sodom. But is it not written, “The two angels came to Sodom at evening”? Michael accompanied Gabriel, to rescue Lot.
Said Rav Yehudah in the name of Rav: This is to teach us that taking in guests is greater than receiving the Divine Presence.
Said the divine attribute of chesed (love): “As long as Abraham was around, there was nothing for me to do, for he did my work in my stead.”
G‑d clothes the naked, as it is written, “G‑d made for Adam and for his wife coats of skin, and clothed them” (Genesis 3:21); so should you too clothe the naked.
G‑d visits the sick, as it is written, “G‑d appeared to him in the plains of Mamre”; so should you too visit the sick.
G‑d comforts mourners, as it is written, “It came to pass, after the death of Abraham, that G‑d blessed Isaac his son” (Genesis 25:11); so should you too comfort mourners.
G‑d buries the dead, as it is written, “He buried him in the valley” (Deuteronomy 34:6); so should you too bury the dead.
Plotit, a daughter of Lot, was married to one of the leading citizens of Sodom. One day she saw a pauper starving in the street, and her soul was saddened over him. What did she do? Every day, when she went to draw water from the well, she would take some of the food from her home in her pitcher and feed the pauper. But the people of Sodom wondered, “This pauper, how is he surviving?” Eventually the matter became known and she was taken out to be burned, and her cries rose to the divine throne.
If a person had rows of bricks, the Sodomites came and each took one brick, saying, “I have taken only one.” If a person spread out garlic or onions to dry, each one came and took one, saying, “I have taken only one.”
There were four judges in Sodom: Shakrai, Shakrurai, Zayafi and Matzlei Dina. If a man assaulted his neighbor’s wife and caused her to miscarry, they would say to the husband, “Give her to him, so that he may make her pregnant for you.” If one cut off the ear of his neighbor’s donkey, they would order, “Give it to him until it grows back.” If one wounded his neighbor, they would say to the victim, “Pay him a fee for bleeding you.”
They had beds upon which travelers slept. If the guest was too long, they shortened him; if too short, they stretched him out.
If a poor man happened to come there, every resident gave him a dinar, upon which he wrote his name, but no bread was sold to him. When he died, each came and took back his dinar.
A certain maiden gave some bread to a poor man, hiding it in a pitcher. When the matter became known, they daubed her with honey and placed her on the parapet of the wall, and the bees came and consumed her. Thus it is written: “G‑d said: ‘The cry of Sodom and Gomorrah, because it is great.’”
The Zohar compares the actions of two righteous men, Noah and Abraham, when confronted with the knowledge that G‑d intended to destroy their fellow human beings for their wickedness. Noah set about building an ark that would shelter the handful of righteous individuals remaining in a corrupt world. In addition, the Midrash describes how he tried to convince his generation to mend their ways and thus be saved from the divine decree. But the Zohar faults Noah for not also praying for their sake, as Abraham did for the wicked inhabitants of Sodom.
The Lubavitcher Rebbe explains that the fact that Noah did not pray for the wicked of his generation implies that, ultimately, it did not matter to him what became of them. Had he truly cared, he would not have sufficed with doing his best to bring them to repent, but would have implored the Almighty to repeal His decree of destruction—just as a person whose own life is in danger would never say, “Well, I did my best to save myself,” and leave it at that, but would beseech G‑d to help him.
In other words, Noah’s efforts on behalf of others derived solely from his sense of what he ought to do for them, as opposed to a true concern for their wellbeing. This was the extent of his “love”—his own need to do the right thing.
This also explains a curious aspect of Noah’s efforts to reach out to his generation. When the Flood came, Noah and his family entered the ark—alone. His 120-year campaign yielded not a single baal teshuvah(repentant)! Perhaps public relations was never Noah’s strong point, but how are we to explain the fact that in all this time he failed to win over a single individual?
But in order to influence others, the Rebbe explains, one’s motives must be pure; in the words of our sages, “Words that come from the heart enter the heart.” Deep down, a person will always sense whether you truly have his interests at heart or you’re filling a need of your own by seeking to change him. If your work to better your fellow stems from a desire to “do the right thing” and to fulfill the mitzvah to “love your fellow as yourself,” but without really caring about the result, your call will be met with scant response. The undercurrent of personal motive, be it the most laudable of personal motives, will be sensed, if only subconsciously, by those to whom you reach out, and will ultimately put them off.
Abraham, on the other hand, possessed a selfless love for his fellow man, as demonstrated by his daring intervention on behalf of the five sinful cities of the Sodom Valley. Abraham petitioned G‑d on their behalf, using the strongest terms to demand of G‑d that he spare these cities for the sake of the few righteous individuals they might contain. “It behooves You not to do such a thing!” he challenged G‑d. “Shall the Judge of the universe not act justly?!” Abraham was prepared to incur G‑d’s wrath upon himself for the sake of the most corrupt of sinners, giving precedence to their physical lives over his own spiritual integrity!
And because people sensed that he had their own good, and only their own good, at heart—they responded. When Abraham and Sarah left Charan for the Holy Land, they were joined by “the souls which they had made in Charan”—the community of men and women who had rallied to their cause. Sixty-five years later, Abraham was able to say to his servant Eliezer: “When G‑d summoned me from the house of my father, He was G‑d of the heavens but not of the earth: the inhabitants of the earth did not recognize Him, and His name was not referred to in the land. But now that I have made His name familiar in the mouths of His creatures, He is G‑d in both heaven and earth” (Rashi, Genesis 24:7).
Here they are called angels, whereas earlier they were termed men?
Earlier, when the Divine Presence was above them, they were men; but as soon as the Divine Presence departed from them they assumed the form of angels.
Rabbi Levi said: To Abraham, whose spiritual strength was great, they looked like men; but to Lot they appeared as angels, because his strength was feeble.
Rabbi Chunia said: Before they performed their mission they were called men; having performed their mission, they assumed the style of angels.
This teaches us that Sarah was superior to Abraham in prophecy.
This teaches us that a person’s prayer for himself is preferable to others praying for him, and is sooner to be accepted [for though the verse speaks of Hagar’s weeping, it tells us that it was Ishmael’s cry which G‑d heard].
The ministering angels hastened to indict him, exclaiming: “Sovereign of the Universe! Would You bring up a well for one who will one day kill Your children with thirst?” “What is he now?” asked G‑d. “Righteous,” said the angels. Said G‑d: “I judge man only as he is at the moment.”
Said Rabbi Yitzchak: Throw a stick into the air, and it will fall back to its place of origin [the ground]. It is written, “She had a handmaid, an Egyptian, whose name was Hagar” (Genesis 16:1); therefore, “his mother took him a wife out of the land of Egypt.”
Said Rabbi Jonathan: A potter does not examine defective vessels, because he cannot give them a single blow without breaking them. What then does he examine? Only the sound vessels, for he will not break them even with many blows. Similarly, the Holy One, blessed be He, tests not the wicked but the righteous.
This is the very same donkey which Moses rode to Egypt (Exodus 4:20); and this is the very same donkey upon which the Messiah will arrive (Zechariah 9:9).
Can one bind a man thirty-seven years old without his consent?
But when Abraham came to slaughter his son Isaac, Isaac said to him: “Father, I am a young man, and I am afraid that my body may tremble through fear of the knife and I will grieve you, and then the slaughter may be rendered unfit and this will not count as a real sacrifice; therefore bind me very firmly.”
In Mezeritch, it was extremely difficult to be accepted as a disciple of our master, Rabbi DovBer. There were a group of chassidim who, having failed to merit to learn directly from our master, wanted to at least serve his pupils: to bring them water to wash their hands upon waking, to sweep the floors of the study hall, to heat the ovens during the winter months, and so on. These were known as “the oven stokers.”
One winter night, as I lay on a bench in the study hall, I overheard a conversation between three of the “oven stokers.” “What was so special about the test of the Akeidah?” the first one asked. “If G‑d had revealed Himself to me and commanded me to sacrifice my only son, would I not obey?”
Answering his own question, he said: “If G‑d told me to sacrifice my only son, I would delay my doing so for a while, to keep him with me for a few days. Abraham’s greatness lay in that he arose early in the morning to immediately fulfill the divine command.”
Said the second one: “If G‑d told me to sacrifice my only son, I too would waste not a moment to carry out His command. But I would do so with a heavy heart. Abraham’s greatness lay in that he went to the Akeidah with a heart full of joy over the opportunity to fulfill G‑d’s will.”
Said the third: “I too would carry out G‑d’s will with joy. I think that Abraham’s uniqueness lies in his reaction upon finding out that it was all a test. When G‑d commanded him, ‘Do not touch the child, and do nothing to him,’ Abraham was overjoyed—not because his only child would not die, but because he was being given the opportunity to carry out another command of G‑d.”
Rabbi Schneur Zalman concluded: “Do you think this was mere talk? Each of them was describing the degree of self-sacrifice he himself had attained in his service of the Almighty.”
More
Abraham called the name of that place Adonai-Yireh(22:14)
Shem (the son of Noah) called it Salem, as it is written, “Malki-Tzedek, king of Salem” (Genesis 14:18). Said the Holy One, blessed be He: “If I call it Yireh as did Abraham, then the righteous Shem will resent it; while if I call it Salem as did Shem, then the righteous Abraham will resent it. Hence I will call it Jerusalem, including both names, Yireh Salem.”
Haftarah Companion for Vayeira
For an informed reading of the weekly Haftarah: I Kings 4:1-37.
By Mendel DubovOverview
Parshat Vayeira tells the story of the miraculous birth of Isaac. Although Abraham and Sarah could never naturally have children, G‑d gave them a child in their deep old age. Reflecting this, the haftarah recounts a similar miracle which was performed through the prophet Elisha.
Elisha had been the student of Elijah the prophet. Before the ascent of Elijah to heaven, Elisha requested of his teacher that he be granted “a double portion of your spirit.”1 This was indeed fulfilled, and Scripture enumerates twice as many miracles performed by Elisha as by his teacher Elijah. Our haftarah recounts three of these miracles.2
The first miracle involved a widow who was heavily in debt, and her creditors were threatening to take her two sons as slaves to satisfy the debt. When Elisha asked her what she had in her home, the widow responded that she had nothing but a vial of oil. Elisha told her to gather as many empty containers as possibleץ. She should then pour oil from her vial into the empty containers. She did as commanded, and miraculously the oil continued to flow until the last empty jug was filled. The woman would sell the oil for a handsome profit, and have enough money to repay her debts and live comfortably.
The second miracle: Elisha would often pass by the city of Shunem, where he would dine and rest at the home of a certain hospitable couple. This couple even built a special addition to their home, a guest room designated for Elisha's use. When the prophet learned that the couple was childless, he blessed the woman that she should give birth to a child in exactly one year’s time. Indeed, one year later a son was born to the aged couple.
The third miracle: A few years later, this miraculously born son complained of a headache and died shortly thereafter. The Shunammite woman laid the lifeless body on the bed in Elisha’s designated room, and quickly made her way to the prophet. Elisha came to the woman’s home and miraculously brought the boy back to life.
Who were the woman and her two sons?
The Targum3 as well as other Midrashic sources tell the background to this story:
During the reign of King Ahab, his wife, Jezebel, was viciously hunting down all the prophets of G‑d and putting them to death. At this time Elijah, the great prophet of that era, had decreed a famine on the region until the king and his people would mend their wicked ways.
The manager of Ahab’s palace was a righteous man name Ovadiah(Obadiah).4 During this time Ovadiah hid one hundred prophets in two caves and took full responsibility for sustaining them. To this end he borrowed sizeable sums of money, ironically from Jehoram, the son of Ahab. The money was lent to him with interest. Although as the manager of the palace he could have taken provisions from there to feed the prophets, Ovadiah refrained from doing so, as much of Ahab’s wealth was gained illegitimately.
It was after Ovadiah’s passing that his wife came to Elisha begging for help, as Jehoram was about to take her two children as slaves. The Zohar5 tells us that Ovadiah’s wife had visited the grave of her husband and desperately cried over the situation. In response, Ovadiah on high visited the three forefathers (Abraham, Isaac and Jacob), who told him to advise his wife that she should visit the prophet Elisha, and he would help her.
Got Oil?
“Elisha said to her, ‘What shall I do for you? Tell me what you have in the house.’ And she said, “Your maidservant has nothing at all in the house except a vial of oil.’”
In this interesting exchange, Elisha was looking for something that the woman already had, upon which a miracle could take effect. This idea can be linked to a concept that constantly recurs in the Torah and Jewish life: If something spiritual is to affect the physical, it needs to be “anchored” in something physical.
A foundation of Kabbalistic teaching is that our world is a physical expression of G‑dly realities (or “worlds,” as they are referred to). Anything that exists or occurs in this world is because there is something within G‑dly reality that creates this existence or occurrence. A miracle in the physical realm indicates that a G‑dly presence has come forth in an unlimited way, breaking through all limitations and the usual order in the supernal realm—thus breaking the order in the natural world as well.
Yet the converse is not true: not necessarily does everything in the spiritual realms percolate down into the material one. There can be a possibility that a divine revelation, such as a blessing, may remain in that realm and not take on a physical manifestation.
This is the concept behind many biblical stories and events where the prophet was told, or sought on his own, to do something physical to “carry” the spiritual vision, blessing or miracle into the physical world, thus setting in motion the physical play-out of this G‑dly reality.6
Many Jewish laws and customs also follow this idea. Some examples:
1. The Code of Jewish Law instructs that at least a little bread should be left on the table while Birkat Hamazon (the Grace After Meals) is recited. The Zohar7 explains the reason for this is that the blessing we are asking G‑d to bestow in connection to food (bread) cannot “come to rest” unless there is some actual bread upon which it will do so. The source it gives is our story with Elisha and the oil.
2. A time-honored custom among tzaddikim (holy individuals) is that a blessing would be given “through” a physical item. It might have been a piece of challah, wine from kiddush or havdalah, honey cake, etc. The tzaddik gave this to be eaten, and the person eating it would be helped. Sometimes the object might be money, an object of clothing, or something else. The idea is that this would be a physical medium for anchoring a blessing from above.
The Failed Attempt
An interesting part of the last story in the haftarah is the failed attempt of Gechazi, Elisha’s servant, to revive the deceased lad. Elisha had told him to take his staff and put in on the face of the lad, and he would awaken. He did this, and it failed. Only when Elisha himself came was he able to resurrect the boy. Why was this?
The Jerusalem Talmud8 explains that while Gechazi was great in Torah learning, he had some serious shortcomings. One of them was that he did not admit to the Jewish belief in techiyat hameitim—the resurrection of the dead. When Elisha sent him with his staff to resurrect the child, he was ordered not to speak to anyone: “If you meet anyone, do not greet him, and if anyone greets you, do not answer him.” But Gechazi did not believe that his mission was at all possible. When people met him on the road and asked him where he was going, he mockingly replied, “I am going to resurrect the dead.” When he returned to his master, Elisha sharply told him: “I now know that even if the child would be merely sleeping, he would not have awoken through you.”
Belief in the miracle is often a condition for the miracle actually taking place. The previous Lubavitcher Rebbe once told a story of his ancestor, Rabbi Schneur Zalman of Liadi, known as the Alter Rebbe. One year, on the festival of Shemini Atzeret, many of those who came to to the rebbebecame very sick. In an unusual move, the Alter Rebbe instructed that all the sick chassidim were to be brought to the synagogue for hakafot, the dancing with the Torah. As this was taking place, the Alter Rebbe went into the sukkah to make kiddush. He brought with him three chassidim and appointed them as emissaries. They were to bring some wine from his kiddush (mixed with other wine) to all those who needed it, and they would soon be healed. The three chassidim entered the large synagogue and, after giving over the rebbe’s words, made the following announcement:
“We have it by tradition from our elders, who received this from their elders, that in order for a blessing to be fulfilled, that the one being blessed must adhere to two conditions: 1) to have simple faith in the blessing that he is being given, without doubting it in any way; 2) to devote himself to following the directions in matters of Divine service—i.e., in Torah learning and in good conduct—of the one giving him the blessing.”
The blessing with the wine indeed helped, and all those who were sick were miraculously cured.9
FOOTNOTES
1.II Kings 2:9.
2.Scripture records a total of sixteen miracles performed by Elisha, in contrast to eight performed by Elijah.
3.Targum, meaning “Translation”, means an Aramaic translation and exposition of the Torah. The authoritative Targum on the Prophets is that of Yonasan ben Uziel, a student of the sage Hillel.
4.Our sages (Talmud, Sanhedrin 39b) identify him as the biblical prophet Ovadiah. We read his book as the haftarah of Vayishlach.
5.Zohar Chadash, Ruth 38b.
6.For further elaboration on this, see commentary of Ramban (Nachmanides), Genesis 12:6; R. Shalom Dovber of Lubavitch, Kuntres Umaayan, secs. 18ff.
7.Zohar 2:157b.
8.Jerusalem Talmud, Sanhedrin 10:2.
9.R. Yosef Yitzchak of Lubavitch, Likkutei Dibburim, vol. 2, p. 253.
BY MENDEL DUBOV
Did you ever dream big, only to realize that it was just a dream?
Were you excited about your ambitions, and then shocked, surprised and maybe even defeated when they didn’t come to fruition?
In the beginning of our prayers every morning, we read about the Akeida. It’s the story of a father being ready to sacrifice his only son to fulfill G‑d’s will.
This is how it started.
Abraham and Sarah did not have children for many years. But they held on tightly to G‑d’s promise that they would have a child who would be the start of a great nation.
You can only imagine Abraham and Sarah’s joy when Isaac was born to them in their old age. You can only imagine the love they had for their only, long-awaited son, and the dreams they had for him, and for the great nation that was to be.
But time passed. Isaac was 37 years old. He was not married. There was no nation yet. And one fine day, G‑d told Abraham: “Take your only son, the one that you love, and go where I will show you. There you should offer him up as a sacrifice.”
Hold on. If Abraham would offer Issac as a sacrifice, what would happen to the promised great nation? Why would G‑d give Abraham dreams, only to crush them?
But Abraham stood strong in his faith, ready to follow G‑d’s instructions. And then, just as Abraham was about to slaughter his son, an angel stopped him, and forbade him from harming Isaac with even a scratch.
G‑d acknowledged Abraham’s faithfulness and blessed him abundantly. And the next day, life was back to normal.
Wait, what? What kind of game was G‑d trying to play with Abraham?
After the angel stopped Abraham from harming Isaac, G‑d told Abraham: “You did not withhold your only son, the one you love, from Me.” G‑d had found what he was looking for: Abraham’s unwavering commitment, his absolute faith.
Sometimes, we get so caught up with running our lives and dreaming big for ourselves. We think we know what’s best for us, and we think we know what we’re best for. We’re running towards our glorious future.
And then, G‑d says: “Take what you love most, and go where I will show you.”
The best path in life is G‑d’s path.
Sometimes, G‑d sends us a little reminder that He is in charge, that He knows best. And He does. He knows an even better best than the one we were imagining. G‑d has bigger dreams for us than we do. All we have to do is show G‑d our unwavering commitment.
And you know what, once G‑d found this commitment from Abraham, Isaac went home unscathed, and Abraham was blessed even more than he had been before this test.
At the end of the day, when we commit ourselves to following G‑d’s path, G‑d is on our side.
BY GITTY ADLER
Gitty Adler was raised in Bournemouth, England, where her parents are Chabad Emissaries. She and her husband currently live in Brooklyn, where she teaches.
Artwork by Sefira Ross, a freelance designer and illustrator whose original creations grace many Chabad.org pages. Residing in Seattle, Washington, her days are spent between multitasking illustrations and being a mom.© Copyright, all rights reserved. If you enjoyed this article, we encourage you to distribute it further, provided that you comply with Chabad.org's copyright policy.
Learn the Parshah in Depth
A condensation of the weekly Torah portion alongside select commentaries culled from the Midrash, Talmud, Chassidic masters, and the broad corpus of Jewish scholarship.
Parshat Vayeira In-Depth
Genesis 18:1-22:24
Parshah Summary
“Because I know him,” says G‑d of Abraham in a key passage in the Parshah of Vayeira, “that he will command his children and his household after him that they shall keep the way of G‑d, to do tzedakah and justice.”
Indeed, this week’s Torah reading is replete with examples of Abraham’s tzedakah (commonly translated as “charity,” but actually meaning “righteousness”)—a trait which Abraham cultivated to the extent that it came to define his very identity.
The first verse of Vayeira describes a divine revelation experienced by Abraham: “G‑d revealed Himself to him in the plains of Mamre, as he sat in the tent door in the heatof the day.” But the divine visit is interrupted when Abraham excuses himself from G‑d’s presence (!) to rush toward three wayfarers who suddenly appear, and offer them hospitality.
He raised his eyes and looked, and behold, three menstood by him; when he saw them, he ran to meet them from the tent door, and bowed himself to the ground.
He said: “My Lord! If now I have found favor in your eyes, pass not away, I beg you, from your servant.
He said: “My Lord! If now I have found favor in your eyes, pass not away, I beg you, from your servant.
“Let a little water, please, be fetched, and wash your feet, and rest yourselves under the tree. I will fetch a morsel of bread, and comfort your hearts; after that you shall pass on—seeing that you have come to your servant . . .”
Abraham hastened into the tent to Sarah, and said: “Quickly make ready three measures of fine meal, knead it and make cakes.”
Abraham ran to the herd, and fetched a tender and good calf, and gave it to the boy; and he hurried to prepare it. He took cream, milk, and the calf which he had prepared, and set it before them; he stood by them under the tree, and they ate.
Sarah Laughs
And then one of the three mystery guests makes an announcement:
“I will certainly return to you at this time next year, and behold, your wife Sarah shall have a son.”
In the previous Parshah, we read how Abraham laughed upon hearing the news that Sarah will bear him a son. Now the Torah reports that
Sarah heard it in the tent door, which was behind him. Now Abraham and Sarah were old, advanced in age; the manner of women had ceased for Sarah.
Sarah laughed within herself, saying: “After I am grown old shall I have my heart’s desire, my lord being old also?”
G‑d said to Abraham: “Why did Sarah laugh, saying, ‘Shall I indeed bear a child, when I am old?’ Is anything too difficult for G‑d? At the appointed time I will return to you, at this season, and Sarah shall have a son.”
Abraham Pleads for Sodom
Abraham’s guests had another mission to attend to that day: to destroy the city of Sodom and its four sister cities, “Because the cry of [the victims of] Sodom and Gomorrah is great, and because their sin is very grievous.”
Abraham’s love of his fellow man does not allow him to stand by silently:
Abraham confronted G‑d and said: “Would You also destroy the righteous with the wicked? Perhaps there are fifty righteous people within the city; would You also destroy and not spare the place for the fifty righteous that are therein?
“It behooves You not to do such a thing, to slay the righteous with the wicked. . . . Shall the Judge of all the earth not act justly?”
Abraham continues to bargain with G‑d: What if there are 45 righteous individuals in the “Cities of the Plain”? Forty? Thirty? Twenty? Only when Abraham has received G‑d’s promise to spare the cities if even only ten righteous ones be found, does “G‑d go His way . . . and Abraham returned to his place.”
The Destruction of the Sodom Valley
Two of the three angels (as they are now identified in the verse) proceed to Sodom: one of them goes to destroy the city, and the other to rescue Abraham’s nephew Lot, who had taken up residence there.
The two angels came to Sodom at evening, and Lot sat in the gate of Sodom. Seeing them, Lot stood up to meet them, and he bowed himself with his face to the ground.
Lot, who had acquired something of his uncle’s legendary hospitality, invites them to his home, and feeds them matzot (unleavened bread).
But before they lay down, the men of the city, the men of Sodom, surrounded the house, both old and young, all the people from every quarter. They called to Lot and said to him: “Where are the men who came to you this night? Bring them out to us, that we may rape them.”
Lot confronts the mob in an effort to defend his guests, but they push past him and are about to break down the door. Only the intervention of the angels, who smite the mob with blindness, disperses them.
At this point the angels reveal to Lot that G‑d has sent them to destroy the evil cities of the Sodom Valley, and only he and his family will be spared.
When the dawn was breaking, the angels hurried Lot, saying: “Arise, take your wife and your two daughters who are here, lest you be consumed because of the iniquity of the city . . .”
It came to pass, when they had brought them outside, that he said: “Flee for your life; do not look behind you, and do not stand in the entire plain. Flee to the mountain, lest you perish.”
Lot’s wife violates this command, looks back to witness G‑d’s destruction of Sodom, and turns into a pillar of salt.
G‑d rained upon Sodom and upon Gomorrah brimstone and fire from G‑d out of heaven. He turned over these cities and the entire plain, and all the inhabitants of the cities, and the vegetation of the ground.
Lot, however, prevails upon the angels to spare the smallest of the five cities, Zoar. Lot and his two daughters go there, but, fearing that the city is enjoying only a temporary respite from G‑d’s wrath, they escape to the mountains and take refuge in a cave.
Abraham arose early in the morning to the place where he had stood before the L‑rd. He looked over the face of Sodom and Gomorrah and over the entire face of the land of the plain, and he saw, behold, that the smoke of the earth was rising like the smoke of a furnace.
Believing that “there is not a man left alive on the earth to come in to us after the manner of all the earth,” the daughters of Lot get their father drunk (“drunk as Lot”) and lie with him, both becoming pregnant. Their respective sons, Moab (“from father”) and Ben-Ami (“son of my people”), father the two nations of Moab and Ammon.
The Birth of Isaac
Abraham’s journeys take him southward to the Negev, to Gerar, in the territory controlled by Avimelech, king of the Philistines. Here Abraham and Sarah experience a replay of what happened to them in Egypt: Sarah is presented as Abraham’s sister; she is taken to Avimelech’s palace; a plague breaks out in the palace, and Avimelech has a dream in which he is warned, “You are a dead man, because of the woman whom you have taken, for she is a man’s wife.” Sarah is returned, untouched, to Abraham with much apologies and gifts from the repentant king.
Then, exactly one year after the three angels visited Abraham and Sarah and delivered G‑d’s promise that a son shall be born to them (as related at the beginning of the Parshah),
G‑d remembered Sarah as He had said, and G‑d did to Sarah as He had spoken.
Sarah conceived, and bore Abraham a son in his old age, at the set time of which G‑d had spoken to him.
The boy is named Yitzchak (“will laugh”), because, as Sarah declared, “G‑d has made laughter for me, so that all who hear will laugh with me.”
Abraham circumcised his son Isaac when he was eight days old, as G‑d had commanded him. Abraham was one hundred years old when his son Isaac was born to him.
The Torah then tells of a great feast that Abraham made “on the day that Isaac was weaned.”
The Banishment of Hagar and Ishmael
Abraham already has a son, Ishmael, born 14 years earlier to Hagar, the Egyptian maid whom Sarah had urged him to marry in her barren years. As had been predicted, Ishmael grows to become “a wild man, his hand against every man, and every man’s hand against him.” Sarah, fearing Ishmael’s negative influence upon her son, urges Abraham to “banish this maidservant and her son, for the son of this maidservant shall not be heir with my son, with Isaac.”
Abraham is reluctant to do so until G‑d intervenes, telling him: “In all that Sarah says to you, listen to her voice; for in Isaac shall your seed be called.”
Abraham rose up early in the morning, and took bread and a bottle of water, and gave it to Hagar, putting it on her shoulder, and the child, and sent her away. She departed, and wandered in the wilderness of Be’er Sheva.
Their water, however, runs out quickly in the desert heat, and soon Ishmael is faint with heat and thirst. Hagar
threw the child under one of the shrubs. She went off . . . the distance of a bowshot, for she said, “Let me not see the death of the child.” She sat opposite him, and lifted up her voice and wept.
G‑d heard the voice of the lad; and an angel of G‑d called to Hagar out of heaven, and said to her, “What ails you, Hagar? Fear not, for G‑d has heard the voice of the lad where he is . . .”
G‑d opened her eyes, and she saw a well of water, and she went and filled the bottle with water and gave the lad to drink.
G‑d was with the lad, and he grew; he dwelt in the wilderness, and became an archer. He dwelt in the wilderness of Paran, and his mother took him a wife out of the land of Egypt.
The Covenant with Avimelech
Avimelech, the king of the Philistines, who had earlier offered Abraham to settle in his country, now comes seeking a covenant of peace with the Hebrew. “G‑d is with you in all that you do,” says the king; let us swear to each other that neither of us will show hostility to the other or the other’s offspring.
Abraham agrees, and gives Avimelech seven sheep as a testimony to the resolution of a past controversy between them over a well that Abraham had dug. The place is thus named Be’er Sheva (“Well of the Oath” and “Well of the Seven”).
Abraham establishes an eshel (wayside inn) at Be’er Sheva, where he “called in the name of the L‑rd, the G‑d of the world.”
It came to pass, after these things, that G‑d testedAbraham. He said to him: “Abraham!”
And he said: “Here I am!”
And He said: “Please, take your son, your only son, the one whom you love, Isaac; and go away to the land of Moriah, and offer him there for a burnt offering upon one of the mountains, of which I will tell you.”
Abraham rose up early in the morning, saddled his donkey, and took two of his young men with him, and Isaac his son, and broke up the wood for the burnt offering, and rose up and went to the place of which G‑d had told him.
Then, on the third day, Abraham lifted up his eyes and saw the place from afar. Abraham said to his young men: “Stay here with the donkey, and I and the lad will go over there and worship, and come again to you.”
Abraham took the wood of the burnt offering, and laid it upon Isaac his son, and he took in his hand the fire and the knife; and both of them went together.
Isaac spoke to Abraham his father, and said, “My father!” And he said, “Here I am, my son.”
And he said: “Behold the fire and the wood, but where is the lamb for a burnt offering?”
Abraham said: “G‑d will provide Himself a lamb for a burnt offering, my son.” And both of them went together.
They came to the place of which G‑d had spoken to him, and Abraham built the altar there and arranged the wood, and he bound Isaac his son, and laid him on the altar upon the wood.
Abraham stretched out his hand and took the knife to slaughter his son.
An angel of G‑d called to him out of heaven, and said: “Abraham! Abraham!” And he said, “Here I am!”
And he said: “Do not stretch forth your hand to the lad, nor do the slightest thing to him, for now I know that you are a G‑d-fearing man, and you did not withhold your son, your only one, from Me.”
Abraham lifted up his eyes and saw, and behold there was a ram, [and] after [that] it was caught in a bush by its horns. Abraham went and took the ram, and offered it up as a burnt offering instead of his son.
Abraham called the name of that place Adonai-Yireh (“G‑d will see”), as it is said to this day: “On the mountain G‑d will appear.”
Vayeira concludes with report of a granddaughter born to Abraham’s brother Nachor, named Rebecca (destined to become Isaac’s wife).
From Our Sages
G‑d revealed Himself to him . . . as he sat in the tent door in the heat of the day (18:1)
It was the third day from Abraham’s circumcision, and G‑d came to inquire after Abraham’s health.G‑d drew the sun out of its sheath, so that the righteous one should not be troubled with wayfarers. Abraham sent Eliezer out [to seek travelers], but he found none. Said Abraham, “I do not believe you,” and himself went out, and saw G‑d standing at the door.
(Talmud, Bava Metzia 86b)
Who were the three men? The angels Michael, Gabriel and Raphael. Michael (“Who is like G‑d?”) came to bring the tidings to Sarah of Isaac’s birth; Raphael (“Healing of G‑d”), to heal Abraham; and Gabriel (“Might of G‑d”), to overturn Sodom. But is it not written, “The two angels came to Sodom at evening”? Michael accompanied Gabriel, to rescue Lot.
(Talmud, Bava Metzia 86b)
He said: “My Lord! If now I have found favor in your eyes, pass not away, I beg you, from your servant.” (18:4)
This verse has two meanings. One meaning is that Abraham is addressing the most prominent of the three guests, asking him and the others not to pass by his tent without availing themselves of his hospitality. Another meaning is that Abraham is addressing G‑d, asking Him to stand by while he attends to his guests.Said Rav Yehudah in the name of Rav: This is to teach us that taking in guests is greater than receiving the Divine Presence.
(Rashi on this verse; Talmud, Shevuot 35b)
Said the divine attribute of chesed (love): “As long as Abraham was around, there was nothing for me to do, for he did my work in my stead.”
(Sefer HaBahir)
more
The way of G‑d, to do tzedakah and justice (18:19)
What is the meaning of the verse, “You shall walk after the L‑rd your G‑d?” Is it then possible for a human being to walk after the divine, which is described as a “devouring fire”? But the meaning is to follow the attributes of the Holy One, blessed be He.G‑d clothes the naked, as it is written, “G‑d made for Adam and for his wife coats of skin, and clothed them” (Genesis 3:21); so should you too clothe the naked.
G‑d visits the sick, as it is written, “G‑d appeared to him in the plains of Mamre”; so should you too visit the sick.
G‑d comforts mourners, as it is written, “It came to pass, after the death of Abraham, that G‑d blessed Isaac his son” (Genesis 25:11); so should you too comfort mourners.
G‑d buries the dead, as it is written, “He buried him in the valley” (Deuteronomy 34:6); so should you too bury the dead.
(Talmud, Sotah 14a)
Because the cry of [the victims of] Sodom and Gomorrah is great, and because their sin is very grievous (18:20)
In Sodom it was decreed: “Whoever hands a piece of bread to a pauper or stranger shall be burned at the stake.”Plotit, a daughter of Lot, was married to one of the leading citizens of Sodom. One day she saw a pauper starving in the street, and her soul was saddened over him. What did she do? Every day, when she went to draw water from the well, she would take some of the food from her home in her pitcher and feed the pauper. But the people of Sodom wondered, “This pauper, how is he surviving?” Eventually the matter became known and she was taken out to be burned, and her cries rose to the divine throne.
(Pirkei d’Rabbi Eliezer, ch. 25)
Our rabbis taught: The men of Sodom were corrupted only on account of the good which G‑d had lavished upon them. . . . They said: Since there comes forth bread out of our earth, and it has the dust of gold, why should we tolerate wayfarers, who come to us only to deplete our wealth? Come, let us abolish the practice of lodging travelers in our land . . .If a person had rows of bricks, the Sodomites came and each took one brick, saying, “I have taken only one.” If a person spread out garlic or onions to dry, each one came and took one, saying, “I have taken only one.”
There were four judges in Sodom: Shakrai, Shakrurai, Zayafi and Matzlei Dina. If a man assaulted his neighbor’s wife and caused her to miscarry, they would say to the husband, “Give her to him, so that he may make her pregnant for you.” If one cut off the ear of his neighbor’s donkey, they would order, “Give it to him until it grows back.” If one wounded his neighbor, they would say to the victim, “Pay him a fee for bleeding you.”
They had beds upon which travelers slept. If the guest was too long, they shortened him; if too short, they stretched him out.
If a poor man happened to come there, every resident gave him a dinar, upon which he wrote his name, but no bread was sold to him. When he died, each came and took back his dinar.
A certain maiden gave some bread to a poor man, hiding it in a pitcher. When the matter became known, they daubed her with honey and placed her on the parapet of the wall, and the bees came and consumed her. Thus it is written: “G‑d said: ‘The cry of Sodom and Gomorrah, because it is great.’”
(Talmud, Sanhedrin 109a–b)
The Zohar compares the actions of two righteous men, Noah and Abraham, when confronted with the knowledge that G‑d intended to destroy their fellow human beings for their wickedness. Noah set about building an ark that would shelter the handful of righteous individuals remaining in a corrupt world. In addition, the Midrash describes how he tried to convince his generation to mend their ways and thus be saved from the divine decree. But the Zohar faults Noah for not also praying for their sake, as Abraham did for the wicked inhabitants of Sodom.
The Lubavitcher Rebbe explains that the fact that Noah did not pray for the wicked of his generation implies that, ultimately, it did not matter to him what became of them. Had he truly cared, he would not have sufficed with doing his best to bring them to repent, but would have implored the Almighty to repeal His decree of destruction—just as a person whose own life is in danger would never say, “Well, I did my best to save myself,” and leave it at that, but would beseech G‑d to help him.
In other words, Noah’s efforts on behalf of others derived solely from his sense of what he ought to do for them, as opposed to a true concern for their wellbeing. This was the extent of his “love”—his own need to do the right thing.
This also explains a curious aspect of Noah’s efforts to reach out to his generation. When the Flood came, Noah and his family entered the ark—alone. His 120-year campaign yielded not a single baal teshuvah(repentant)! Perhaps public relations was never Noah’s strong point, but how are we to explain the fact that in all this time he failed to win over a single individual?
But in order to influence others, the Rebbe explains, one’s motives must be pure; in the words of our sages, “Words that come from the heart enter the heart.” Deep down, a person will always sense whether you truly have his interests at heart or you’re filling a need of your own by seeking to change him. If your work to better your fellow stems from a desire to “do the right thing” and to fulfill the mitzvah to “love your fellow as yourself,” but without really caring about the result, your call will be met with scant response. The undercurrent of personal motive, be it the most laudable of personal motives, will be sensed, if only subconsciously, by those to whom you reach out, and will ultimately put them off.
Abraham, on the other hand, possessed a selfless love for his fellow man, as demonstrated by his daring intervention on behalf of the five sinful cities of the Sodom Valley. Abraham petitioned G‑d on their behalf, using the strongest terms to demand of G‑d that he spare these cities for the sake of the few righteous individuals they might contain. “It behooves You not to do such a thing!” he challenged G‑d. “Shall the Judge of the universe not act justly?!” Abraham was prepared to incur G‑d’s wrath upon himself for the sake of the most corrupt of sinners, giving precedence to their physical lives over his own spiritual integrity!
And because people sensed that he had their own good, and only their own good, at heart—they responded. When Abraham and Sarah left Charan for the Holy Land, they were joined by “the souls which they had made in Charan”—the community of men and women who had rallied to their cause. Sixty-five years later, Abraham was able to say to his servant Eliezer: “When G‑d summoned me from the house of my father, He was G‑d of the heavens but not of the earth: the inhabitants of the earth did not recognize Him, and His name was not referred to in the land. But now that I have made His name familiar in the mouths of His creatures, He is G‑d in both heaven and earth” (Rashi, Genesis 24:7).
Here they are called angels, whereas earlier they were termed men?
Earlier, when the Divine Presence was above them, they were men; but as soon as the Divine Presence departed from them they assumed the form of angels.
Rabbi Levi said: To Abraham, whose spiritual strength was great, they looked like men; but to Lot they appeared as angels, because his strength was feeble.
Rabbi Chunia said: Before they performed their mission they were called men; having performed their mission, they assumed the style of angels.
(Midrash Rabbah)
This teaches us that Sarah was superior to Abraham in prophecy.
(Rashi)
This teaches us that a person’s prayer for himself is preferable to others praying for him, and is sooner to be accepted [for though the verse speaks of Hagar’s weeping, it tells us that it was Ishmael’s cry which G‑d heard].
(Midrash Rabbah; Rashi)
The ministering angels hastened to indict him, exclaiming: “Sovereign of the Universe! Would You bring up a well for one who will one day kill Your children with thirst?” “What is he now?” asked G‑d. “Righteous,” said the angels. Said G‑d: “I judge man only as he is at the moment.”
(Midrash Rabbah; Rashi)
Said Rabbi Yitzchak: Throw a stick into the air, and it will fall back to its place of origin [the ground]. It is written, “She had a handmaid, an Egyptian, whose name was Hagar” (Genesis 16:1); therefore, “his mother took him a wife out of the land of Egypt.”
(Midrash Rabbah)
Said Rabbi Jonathan: A potter does not examine defective vessels, because he cannot give them a single blow without breaking them. What then does he examine? Only the sound vessels, for he will not break them even with many blows. Similarly, the Holy One, blessed be He, tests not the wicked but the righteous.
(Midrash Rabbah)
Isaac and Ishmael were engaged in a controversy. . . . Said Ishmael to Isaac: “I am more beloved to G‑d than you, since I was circumcised at the age of thirteen, but you were circumcised as a baby and could not refuse.” Isaac retorted: “All that you gave up to G‑d was three drops of blood. But here I am now thirty-seven years old, yet if G‑d desired of me that I be slaughtered, I would not refuse.” Said the Holy One, blessed be He: “This is the moment!”
(Midrash Rabbah)
Jewishness is not a matter of historical consciousness, outlook, ethics, or even behavior; it is a state of being. This is the deeper significance of the debate between Ishmael and Isaac. When the Jew is circumcised on the eighth day of life, he is completely unaware of the significance of what has occurred. But this “non-experience” is precisely what the covenant of circumcision is all about. With circumcision the Jew says: I define my relationship with G‑d not by what I think, feel or do, but by the fact of my Jewishness—a fact which applies equally to an infant of eight days or a sage of eighty years.
(From the teachings of the Lubavitcher Rebbe)
This is the very same donkey which Moses rode to Egypt (Exodus 4:20); and this is the very same donkey upon which the Messiah will arrive (Zechariah 9:9).
(Pirkei d’Rabbi Eliezer, ch. 25)
moreCan one bind a man thirty-seven years old without his consent?
But when Abraham came to slaughter his son Isaac, Isaac said to him: “Father, I am a young man, and I am afraid that my body may tremble through fear of the knife and I will grieve you, and then the slaughter may be rendered unfit and this will not count as a real sacrifice; therefore bind me very firmly.”
(Midrash Rabbah)
An angel of G‑d called to him . . . “Lay not your hand upon the lad, and do not do anything to him” (22:11-12)
The founder of Chabad Chassidism, Rabbi Schneur Zalman of Liadi, once related:In Mezeritch, it was extremely difficult to be accepted as a disciple of our master, Rabbi DovBer. There were a group of chassidim who, having failed to merit to learn directly from our master, wanted to at least serve his pupils: to bring them water to wash their hands upon waking, to sweep the floors of the study hall, to heat the ovens during the winter months, and so on. These were known as “the oven stokers.”
One winter night, as I lay on a bench in the study hall, I overheard a conversation between three of the “oven stokers.” “What was so special about the test of the Akeidah?” the first one asked. “If G‑d had revealed Himself to me and commanded me to sacrifice my only son, would I not obey?”
Answering his own question, he said: “If G‑d told me to sacrifice my only son, I would delay my doing so for a while, to keep him with me for a few days. Abraham’s greatness lay in that he arose early in the morning to immediately fulfill the divine command.”
Said the second one: “If G‑d told me to sacrifice my only son, I too would waste not a moment to carry out His command. But I would do so with a heavy heart. Abraham’s greatness lay in that he went to the Akeidah with a heart full of joy over the opportunity to fulfill G‑d’s will.”
Said the third: “I too would carry out G‑d’s will with joy. I think that Abraham’s uniqueness lies in his reaction upon finding out that it was all a test. When G‑d commanded him, ‘Do not touch the child, and do nothing to him,’ Abraham was overjoyed—not because his only child would not die, but because he was being given the opportunity to carry out another command of G‑d.”
Rabbi Schneur Zalman concluded: “Do you think this was mere talk? Each of them was describing the degree of self-sacrifice he himself had attained in his service of the Almighty.”
More
Abraham called the name of that place Adonai-Yireh(22:14)
Shem (the son of Noah) called it Salem, as it is written, “Malki-Tzedek, king of Salem” (Genesis 14:18). Said the Holy One, blessed be He: “If I call it Yireh as did Abraham, then the righteous Shem will resent it; while if I call it Salem as did Shem, then the righteous Abraham will resent it. Hence I will call it Jerusalem, including both names, Yireh Salem.”
(Midrash Rabbah)
MoreHaftarah Companion for Vayeira
For an informed reading of the weekly Haftarah: I Kings 4:1-37.
By Mendel DubovOverview
Parshat Vayeira tells the story of the miraculous birth of Isaac. Although Abraham and Sarah could never naturally have children, G‑d gave them a child in their deep old age. Reflecting this, the haftarah recounts a similar miracle which was performed through the prophet Elisha.
Elisha had been the student of Elijah the prophet. Before the ascent of Elijah to heaven, Elisha requested of his teacher that he be granted “a double portion of your spirit.”1 This was indeed fulfilled, and Scripture enumerates twice as many miracles performed by Elisha as by his teacher Elijah. Our haftarah recounts three of these miracles.2
The first miracle involved a widow who was heavily in debt, and her creditors were threatening to take her two sons as slaves to satisfy the debt. When Elisha asked her what she had in her home, the widow responded that she had nothing but a vial of oil. Elisha told her to gather as many empty containers as possibleץ. She should then pour oil from her vial into the empty containers. She did as commanded, and miraculously the oil continued to flow until the last empty jug was filled. The woman would sell the oil for a handsome profit, and have enough money to repay her debts and live comfortably.
The second miracle: Elisha would often pass by the city of Shunem, where he would dine and rest at the home of a certain hospitable couple. This couple even built a special addition to their home, a guest room designated for Elisha's use. When the prophet learned that the couple was childless, he blessed the woman that she should give birth to a child in exactly one year’s time. Indeed, one year later a son was born to the aged couple.
The third miracle: A few years later, this miraculously born son complained of a headache and died shortly thereafter. The Shunammite woman laid the lifeless body on the bed in Elisha’s designated room, and quickly made her way to the prophet. Elisha came to the woman’s home and miraculously brought the boy back to life.
Who were the woman and her two sons?
The Targum3 as well as other Midrashic sources tell the background to this story:
During the reign of King Ahab, his wife, Jezebel, was viciously hunting down all the prophets of G‑d and putting them to death. At this time Elijah, the great prophet of that era, had decreed a famine on the region until the king and his people would mend their wicked ways.
The manager of Ahab’s palace was a righteous man name Ovadiah(Obadiah).4 During this time Ovadiah hid one hundred prophets in two caves and took full responsibility for sustaining them. To this end he borrowed sizeable sums of money, ironically from Jehoram, the son of Ahab. The money was lent to him with interest. Although as the manager of the palace he could have taken provisions from there to feed the prophets, Ovadiah refrained from doing so, as much of Ahab’s wealth was gained illegitimately.
It was after Ovadiah’s passing that his wife came to Elisha begging for help, as Jehoram was about to take her two children as slaves. The Zohar5 tells us that Ovadiah’s wife had visited the grave of her husband and desperately cried over the situation. In response, Ovadiah on high visited the three forefathers (Abraham, Isaac and Jacob), who told him to advise his wife that she should visit the prophet Elisha, and he would help her.
Got Oil?
“Elisha said to her, ‘What shall I do for you? Tell me what you have in the house.’ And she said, “Your maidservant has nothing at all in the house except a vial of oil.’”
In this interesting exchange, Elisha was looking for something that the woman already had, upon which a miracle could take effect. This idea can be linked to a concept that constantly recurs in the Torah and Jewish life: If something spiritual is to affect the physical, it needs to be “anchored” in something physical.
A foundation of Kabbalistic teaching is that our world is a physical expression of G‑dly realities (or “worlds,” as they are referred to). Anything that exists or occurs in this world is because there is something within G‑dly reality that creates this existence or occurrence. A miracle in the physical realm indicates that a G‑dly presence has come forth in an unlimited way, breaking through all limitations and the usual order in the supernal realm—thus breaking the order in the natural world as well.
Yet the converse is not true: not necessarily does everything in the spiritual realms percolate down into the material one. There can be a possibility that a divine revelation, such as a blessing, may remain in that realm and not take on a physical manifestation.
This is the concept behind many biblical stories and events where the prophet was told, or sought on his own, to do something physical to “carry” the spiritual vision, blessing or miracle into the physical world, thus setting in motion the physical play-out of this G‑dly reality.6
Many Jewish laws and customs also follow this idea. Some examples:
1. The Code of Jewish Law instructs that at least a little bread should be left on the table while Birkat Hamazon (the Grace After Meals) is recited. The Zohar7 explains the reason for this is that the blessing we are asking G‑d to bestow in connection to food (bread) cannot “come to rest” unless there is some actual bread upon which it will do so. The source it gives is our story with Elisha and the oil.
2. A time-honored custom among tzaddikim (holy individuals) is that a blessing would be given “through” a physical item. It might have been a piece of challah, wine from kiddush or havdalah, honey cake, etc. The tzaddik gave this to be eaten, and the person eating it would be helped. Sometimes the object might be money, an object of clothing, or something else. The idea is that this would be a physical medium for anchoring a blessing from above.
The Failed Attempt
An interesting part of the last story in the haftarah is the failed attempt of Gechazi, Elisha’s servant, to revive the deceased lad. Elisha had told him to take his staff and put in on the face of the lad, and he would awaken. He did this, and it failed. Only when Elisha himself came was he able to resurrect the boy. Why was this?
The Jerusalem Talmud8 explains that while Gechazi was great in Torah learning, he had some serious shortcomings. One of them was that he did not admit to the Jewish belief in techiyat hameitim—the resurrection of the dead. When Elisha sent him with his staff to resurrect the child, he was ordered not to speak to anyone: “If you meet anyone, do not greet him, and if anyone greets you, do not answer him.” But Gechazi did not believe that his mission was at all possible. When people met him on the road and asked him where he was going, he mockingly replied, “I am going to resurrect the dead.” When he returned to his master, Elisha sharply told him: “I now know that even if the child would be merely sleeping, he would not have awoken through you.”
Belief in the miracle is often a condition for the miracle actually taking place. The previous Lubavitcher Rebbe once told a story of his ancestor, Rabbi Schneur Zalman of Liadi, known as the Alter Rebbe. One year, on the festival of Shemini Atzeret, many of those who came to to the rebbebecame very sick. In an unusual move, the Alter Rebbe instructed that all the sick chassidim were to be brought to the synagogue for hakafot, the dancing with the Torah. As this was taking place, the Alter Rebbe went into the sukkah to make kiddush. He brought with him three chassidim and appointed them as emissaries. They were to bring some wine from his kiddush (mixed with other wine) to all those who needed it, and they would soon be healed. The three chassidim entered the large synagogue and, after giving over the rebbe’s words, made the following announcement:
“We have it by tradition from our elders, who received this from their elders, that in order for a blessing to be fulfilled, that the one being blessed must adhere to two conditions: 1) to have simple faith in the blessing that he is being given, without doubting it in any way; 2) to devote himself to following the directions in matters of Divine service—i.e., in Torah learning and in good conduct—of the one giving him the blessing.”
The blessing with the wine indeed helped, and all those who were sick were miraculously cured.9
FOOTNOTES
1.II Kings 2:9.
2.Scripture records a total of sixteen miracles performed by Elisha, in contrast to eight performed by Elijah.
3.Targum, meaning “Translation”, means an Aramaic translation and exposition of the Torah. The authoritative Targum on the Prophets is that of Yonasan ben Uziel, a student of the sage Hillel.
4.Our sages (Talmud, Sanhedrin 39b) identify him as the biblical prophet Ovadiah. We read his book as the haftarah of Vayishlach.
5.Zohar Chadash, Ruth 38b.
6.For further elaboration on this, see commentary of Ramban (Nachmanides), Genesis 12:6; R. Shalom Dovber of Lubavitch, Kuntres Umaayan, secs. 18ff.
7.Zohar 2:157b.
8.Jerusalem Talmud, Sanhedrin 10:2.
9.R. Yosef Yitzchak of Lubavitch, Likkutei Dibburim, vol. 2, p. 253.
BY MENDEL DUBOV
Artwork by Sefira Ross, a freelance designer and illustrator whose original creations grace many Chabad.org pages. Residing in Seattle, Washington, her days are spent between multitasking illustrations and being a mom.© Copyright, all rights reserved. If you enjoyed this article, we encourage you to distribute it further, provided that you comply with Chabad.org's copyright policy.WOMEN
A Grandmother’s (and Granddaughter’s) Wish Fulfilled
You never really knew what happened to your oldest brother, Chaim. Did he, too, perish in the war? Perhaps he survived and changed his name?
By Sarah Jacobs
My Dearest Bubby,
I was 13 years old when you first told me about your older brother—the brother who disappeared. I know you can’t remember the details anymore, so I’ll remind you. Your mother died young, and your father remarried a woman who never had children of her own. She was jealous of the attention your father gave to youYou never knew what happened to him children, and eventually, your oldest brother fled the house, never to be heard from again. It was only a few short years later that everyone in your family perished in the Holocaust, with you being the sole survivor.
Or so you assumed. You never really knew what happened to your oldest brother, Chaim. Did he, too, perish in the war? Perhaps he survived and changed his name? All earlier attempts to locate him were met with futility, and I fear with the passage of time, even had he survived the war, he would no longer be alive today.
But one thing you dreamed of, Bubby, was for someone to be named after him. That’s what you told me one afternoon. We were sitting on my bed, and I was listening to you tell me fascinating stories about your childhood. I never tired of listening to your stories—even though they were about a time in history to which I could never relate—because of your ever-present feelings of gratitude and optimism when none would have been expected. You told me how thankful you were to have others named for your husband, parents, brother and sister, but your one brother, Chaim was unaccounted for, and this caused you much anguish.
“Bubby, I’ll use the name!” I told you earnestly. “I like it. Why not?”
“Oh, Sarah, you are such a good girl. But you’ll have a husband one day who will also have a say in a name. Who’s to say he’ll like it?”
“Oh, I’m sure he will!” I told you, with the eagerness of a child wanting to please.
If only it were so easy. What did I know as a young teenager? Indeed, my husband came into the marriage with his own relatives to name for, and understandably, his own grandparents took precedence over your brother. And it didn’t help matters that he didn’t like the name anyway. Nor did I have the opportunity even if I would have wanted to since I gave birth to several girls.
In my last pregnancy, I rejoiced when I found out I was going to have a boy. By then, I had lost my beloved grandfather, Josef, and longed to have a boy to name after him. My husband graciously agreed, knowing how much I missed him. I’m embarrassed to tell you, Bubby, that I didn’t even think about the promise I had made you so many years before.
And then the baby was born. Unlike his older siblings, he was born with several medical issues that would require extensive surgeries with an unclear future. We were devastated.
During this time of upheaval, we needed to name our baby. I still wanted to name after my grandfather, but felt that something was missing. This baby needed something extra.
“Maybe we should add the name Chaim?” I asked my husband quietly while yet another medical test was being administered.
He thought for a moment. “Yes,” he said pensively. “I agree with you.”
Later on that day, my husband toldI was itching to call you, Bubby me what a perfect fit the name was for our son. “Josef comes from the Hebrew word ‘Yosef,’ which means to ‘add on,’ and Chaim refers to ‘life.’ We want G‑d to add on a long life for our son.” I couldn’t help but tear up thinking about the long road we had ahead of us, and how appropriate the name was for our little newborn.
After we gave the name, I was itching to call you, Bubby, and tell you the news right away. I imaged the surprise and excitement you would experience after learning we named our baby after your brother. But inside I worried. In the last few months, your memory has deteriorated. My greatest fear was that one day, when I called you on the phone, you would say “Sarah who?” I wasn’t sure if you would even remember your long-lost brother Chaim and your desire to have someone named for him.
I dialed your number with tentative hands. Thankfully, you remembered me, your oldest (and may I say favorite?) granddaughter. But your voice was very hesitant. Was your hesitation because you had heard about my baby’s medical issues, and didn’t know what to say? How badly I wanted to only please you and shield you from any suffering. I certainly wouldn’t tell you of the torment in my own heart.
“Bubby, did you hear we had a new baby?” I tried to sound bright and happy.
“Yes, I did, Sarah. Mazel tov.” I could hear the nervousness in your voice.
“Bubby, he’s a really cute baby. And he’s not at all fussy like the girls were. I can’t wait for you to see him.” My words were true, but the excitement in my voice was fake. My act worked because you sounded much calmer then.
“Oh, I’m so glad to hear that!”
“Bubby, did you hear what we named him? Yosef Chaim.”
“It’s a very nice name, Sarah.”
Come on, you have to remember!
“Bubby, we named him Chaim for your brother. Remember your oldest brother, Chaim, who ran away before the war?”
“Yes, I sort of remember something like that.”
My heart sank. Could you really have forgotten?
I would try another avenue.“Come on, you have to remember!”
“Bubby, remember when I was a young girl, I told you that I would name a child after your brother. And see, I did!”
“Oh, Sarah, that is so nice of you. What a good granddaughter you are!”
You put on just as good an act as me. But Bubby, I knew the truth. You didn’t remember anymore. It was too late. How I wish I could have fulfilled my promise to you sooner.
But even now, in your confused state, I know that deep down my efforts have penetrated. You might not remember the details of who Chaim was, but I know you feel loved by my gesture.
May Hashem help our Yosef Chaim grow into a person who will make us both proud.
Love,
Your Beloved Granddaughter
BY SARAH JACOBS
Sarah Jacobs is a pen name.
Artwork by Sefira Ross, a freelance designer and illustrator whose original creations grace many Chabad.org pages. Residing in Seattle, Washington, her days are spent between multitasking illustrations and being a mom.© Copyright, all rights reserved. If you enjoyed this article, we encourage you to distribute it further, provided that you comply with Chabad.org's copyright policy.
Whose Monopoly on Suffering?
Two people might have the same exact difficulty, but for one person it is a mediocre challenge, perhaps a level 5 test, while for another it may be excruciatingly difficult, a level 10 test.
By Shira Becker
I was 13 years old when you first told me about your older brother—the brother who disappeared. I know you can’t remember the details anymore, so I’ll remind you. Your mother died young, and your father remarried a woman who never had children of her own. She was jealous of the attention your father gave to youYou never knew what happened to him children, and eventually, your oldest brother fled the house, never to be heard from again. It was only a few short years later that everyone in your family perished in the Holocaust, with you being the sole survivor.
Or so you assumed. You never really knew what happened to your oldest brother, Chaim. Did he, too, perish in the war? Perhaps he survived and changed his name? All earlier attempts to locate him were met with futility, and I fear with the passage of time, even had he survived the war, he would no longer be alive today.
But one thing you dreamed of, Bubby, was for someone to be named after him. That’s what you told me one afternoon. We were sitting on my bed, and I was listening to you tell me fascinating stories about your childhood. I never tired of listening to your stories—even though they were about a time in history to which I could never relate—because of your ever-present feelings of gratitude and optimism when none would have been expected. You told me how thankful you were to have others named for your husband, parents, brother and sister, but your one brother, Chaim was unaccounted for, and this caused you much anguish.
“Bubby, I’ll use the name!” I told you earnestly. “I like it. Why not?”
“Oh, Sarah, you are such a good girl. But you’ll have a husband one day who will also have a say in a name. Who’s to say he’ll like it?”
“Oh, I’m sure he will!” I told you, with the eagerness of a child wanting to please.
If only it were so easy. What did I know as a young teenager? Indeed, my husband came into the marriage with his own relatives to name for, and understandably, his own grandparents took precedence over your brother. And it didn’t help matters that he didn’t like the name anyway. Nor did I have the opportunity even if I would have wanted to since I gave birth to several girls.
In my last pregnancy, I rejoiced when I found out I was going to have a boy. By then, I had lost my beloved grandfather, Josef, and longed to have a boy to name after him. My husband graciously agreed, knowing how much I missed him. I’m embarrassed to tell you, Bubby, that I didn’t even think about the promise I had made you so many years before.
And then the baby was born. Unlike his older siblings, he was born with several medical issues that would require extensive surgeries with an unclear future. We were devastated.
During this time of upheaval, we needed to name our baby. I still wanted to name after my grandfather, but felt that something was missing. This baby needed something extra.
“Maybe we should add the name Chaim?” I asked my husband quietly while yet another medical test was being administered.
He thought for a moment. “Yes,” he said pensively. “I agree with you.”
Later on that day, my husband toldI was itching to call you, Bubby me what a perfect fit the name was for our son. “Josef comes from the Hebrew word ‘Yosef,’ which means to ‘add on,’ and Chaim refers to ‘life.’ We want G‑d to add on a long life for our son.” I couldn’t help but tear up thinking about the long road we had ahead of us, and how appropriate the name was for our little newborn.
After we gave the name, I was itching to call you, Bubby, and tell you the news right away. I imaged the surprise and excitement you would experience after learning we named our baby after your brother. But inside I worried. In the last few months, your memory has deteriorated. My greatest fear was that one day, when I called you on the phone, you would say “Sarah who?” I wasn’t sure if you would even remember your long-lost brother Chaim and your desire to have someone named for him.
I dialed your number with tentative hands. Thankfully, you remembered me, your oldest (and may I say favorite?) granddaughter. But your voice was very hesitant. Was your hesitation because you had heard about my baby’s medical issues, and didn’t know what to say? How badly I wanted to only please you and shield you from any suffering. I certainly wouldn’t tell you of the torment in my own heart.
“Bubby, did you hear we had a new baby?” I tried to sound bright and happy.
“Yes, I did, Sarah. Mazel tov.” I could hear the nervousness in your voice.
“Bubby, he’s a really cute baby. And he’s not at all fussy like the girls were. I can’t wait for you to see him.” My words were true, but the excitement in my voice was fake. My act worked because you sounded much calmer then.
“Oh, I’m so glad to hear that!”
“Bubby, did you hear what we named him? Yosef Chaim.”
“It’s a very nice name, Sarah.”
Come on, you have to remember!
“Bubby, we named him Chaim for your brother. Remember your oldest brother, Chaim, who ran away before the war?”
“Yes, I sort of remember something like that.”
My heart sank. Could you really have forgotten?
I would try another avenue.“Come on, you have to remember!”
“Bubby, remember when I was a young girl, I told you that I would name a child after your brother. And see, I did!”
“Oh, Sarah, that is so nice of you. What a good granddaughter you are!”
You put on just as good an act as me. But Bubby, I knew the truth. You didn’t remember anymore. It was too late. How I wish I could have fulfilled my promise to you sooner.
But even now, in your confused state, I know that deep down my efforts have penetrated. You might not remember the details of who Chaim was, but I know you feel loved by my gesture.
May Hashem help our Yosef Chaim grow into a person who will make us both proud.
Love,
Your Beloved Granddaughter
BY SARAH JACOBS
Sarah Jacobs is a pen name.
Artwork by Sefira Ross, a freelance designer and illustrator whose original creations grace many Chabad.org pages. Residing in Seattle, Washington, her days are spent between multitasking illustrations and being a mom.© Copyright, all rights reserved. If you enjoyed this article, we encourage you to distribute it further, provided that you comply with Chabad.org's copyright policy.
Whose Monopoly on Suffering?
Two people might have the same exact difficulty, but for one person it is a mediocre challenge, perhaps a level 5 test, while for another it may be excruciatingly difficult, a level 10 test.
By Shira Becker
I have a close family member who suffered a terrible tragedy. His young daughter caught an infection while hospitalized for a routine procedure, and the ensuing fever went so high that it caused irreversible brain damage. Due to her cognitive impairments, her behavior is similar to that of an autistic child, and she requires life-long care. Although decades have passed, my relative has neverPeople respond to hardships differently come to terms with the terrible reality and still tears up thinking about his brain-damaged daughter.
Perhaps this is one of the worst types of suffering a parent can experience. The problem is, my relative, whom we’ll call Sam, will let me know this on a regular basis. If Sam asks me how I’m feeling, and I respond, “Tired, because the kids kept me up last night,” he’ll say, “Well, at least you don’t have a child like I do. She has kept us up many nights.” If I mention an anecdote about the sibling rivalry in my home, Sam might say, “At least your children are normal; my daughter never fought with her siblings because she couldn’t.” I learned very quickly to be careful with what I say around him.
Sam might be an extreme case, but there are many people who think the way he does. “Be thankful for what you have,” they say or think, “because I’ve got it a lot worse.” I’ve seen this attitude expressed in various forms. But this logic is faulty.
First of all, no one can ever really know what other people are going through. Many people put on a great act; inside their homes and hearts, however, they are in extreme pain. For whatever reason, not everyone is able to share their challenges with the outside world. The Sams of the world may feel that their suffering is greater than anyone else’s, but they can never really know what is going on behind closed doors.
But that is only the beginning. Even if we know someone is undergoing a difficult challenge—and we even know what their challenge is—we cannot trivialize it, no matter how trifling it seems to us. G‑d created each of us with different life circumstances, different personalities, different psychological makeups, and different support networks. Because of this, people respond to hardships differently. Two people might have the same exact difficulty, but for one person it is a mediocre challenge, perhaps a level 5 test, while for another it may be excruciatingly difficult, a level 10 test. Sam may not realize this, but the “ordinary” challenges of other people may be just as painful and overwhelming to them as his challenges are to him.
I was once part of an interactive workshop about challenges in life, and I recall one lady spoke with tremendous emotion about her toddler who didn’t walk on time, and how difficult it was for her. She told us how she and her husband went from one specialist to the next, and ran from one great sage to another to receive their blessings, until the child finally learned how to walk. The way she told over the tale, I was certain her child must have been at least 4 years old by the time he began walking. I was astounded when she told me that he was merely 18 months old.
Eighteen months old? Her child was only marginally delayed. My first instinct was to disparage her claim that she had lived throughMy first instinct was to disparage her . . . torment. But then I realized that my attitude was imitating Cousin Sam. Maybe, just maybe, her challenge had been as daunting for her as my own challenges were for me.
The following week, the same lady spoke about how difficult it was for her that she could not afford a certain fancy laundry hamper that would make her laundry sorting easier. The way she spoke about it, one would have thought she didn’t own a washing machine and had to wash her clothing in the river like in the olden days.
A fancy laundry hamper? I thought. Is that such a terrible lack? But again, Cousin Sam’s voice echoed in my head, and I caught myself. Who was I to say that her unsatisfied need for a hamper was a trivial need?
A friend of mine who is a therapist once told me a great story with a similar message. Her client was a teenage girl who was dealing with two huge stressors in her life. The first was speech impairment—a significant stutter—while the second was a relocation overseas with her family. Now, in addition to the stutter, she had to contend with a new culture and language, and during her teenage years, to boot.
The therapist had a suspicion that the girl and her mother had different perspectives on the daughter’s challenges, and decided to conduct an experiment. Using the imagery of a pizza pie, the girl was asked to rate how many slices of the pie each problem took up, by raising her fingers with her eyes closed. Her mother was asked to do the same, rating how she felt her daughter viewed each problem.
When asked about the stutter, the mother raised seven fingers, almost the entire pie; she felt her daughter must be suffering terribly from her stutter. Surprisingly, the teen raised two fingers. When asked about the family’s relocation, the mother held up four fingers; she felt her daughter was managing the move beautifully. The teen raised eight!1 The mother thoughtshe knew what was hard for her daughter and what was easy for her—but as it turned out, she had it all backwards! How often do we have it backwards when we evaluate other people’s suffering? In fact, who are we to evaluate their struggles at all?
Ultimately, there really is no room to compare suffering between individuals since as believing Jews, we know that the world is not random and suffering is Divinely orchestrated. We are placed in this world to fulfill a specific task, and howThere is no room to compare suffering much suffering that may require is individual. And since each person’s suffering is uniquely tailored to him or her, it stands to reason that one person’s “small” challenges may be as great as someone else’s “big” ones.
I recently suffered a difficult challenge, the birth of a child with medical issues. While speaking with my sister-in-law about various doctor’s visits and tests, I became conscious that I was monopolizing the conversation. I made sure to ask her, “What is new at your end?” I could tell she was uncomfortable. She surely felt awkward telling me about her day-to-day doings when I was dealing with something so major. So I put her at ease. “Really, I want to know. I haven’t lost my ability to talk about normal things, too.”
I guess I do need to thank Cousin Sam—for letting me know what it feels like to be on the receiving end.
FOOTNOTES
1.Special thanks to Miriam Klapper and Uri Schnieder of Schneider Speech for this story.
BY SHIRA BECKER
Shira Becker is a pen name.
Artwork by Sefira Ross, a freelance designer and illustrator whose original creations grace many Chabad.org pages. Residing in Seattle, Washington, her days are spent between multitasking illustrations and being a mom.© Copyright, all rights reserved. If you enjoyed this article, we encourage you to distribute it further, provided that you comply with Chabad.org's copyright policy.
STUDY
The Prohibition Against Physical Violence
Surely we don’t need G‑d to tell us that physical violence is not allowed?
By Yisroel Dovid Klein
Perhaps this is one of the worst types of suffering a parent can experience. The problem is, my relative, whom we’ll call Sam, will let me know this on a regular basis. If Sam asks me how I’m feeling, and I respond, “Tired, because the kids kept me up last night,” he’ll say, “Well, at least you don’t have a child like I do. She has kept us up many nights.” If I mention an anecdote about the sibling rivalry in my home, Sam might say, “At least your children are normal; my daughter never fought with her siblings because she couldn’t.” I learned very quickly to be careful with what I say around him.
Sam might be an extreme case, but there are many people who think the way he does. “Be thankful for what you have,” they say or think, “because I’ve got it a lot worse.” I’ve seen this attitude expressed in various forms. But this logic is faulty.
First of all, no one can ever really know what other people are going through. Many people put on a great act; inside their homes and hearts, however, they are in extreme pain. For whatever reason, not everyone is able to share their challenges with the outside world. The Sams of the world may feel that their suffering is greater than anyone else’s, but they can never really know what is going on behind closed doors.
But that is only the beginning. Even if we know someone is undergoing a difficult challenge—and we even know what their challenge is—we cannot trivialize it, no matter how trifling it seems to us. G‑d created each of us with different life circumstances, different personalities, different psychological makeups, and different support networks. Because of this, people respond to hardships differently. Two people might have the same exact difficulty, but for one person it is a mediocre challenge, perhaps a level 5 test, while for another it may be excruciatingly difficult, a level 10 test. Sam may not realize this, but the “ordinary” challenges of other people may be just as painful and overwhelming to them as his challenges are to him.
I was once part of an interactive workshop about challenges in life, and I recall one lady spoke with tremendous emotion about her toddler who didn’t walk on time, and how difficult it was for her. She told us how she and her husband went from one specialist to the next, and ran from one great sage to another to receive their blessings, until the child finally learned how to walk. The way she told over the tale, I was certain her child must have been at least 4 years old by the time he began walking. I was astounded when she told me that he was merely 18 months old.
Eighteen months old? Her child was only marginally delayed. My first instinct was to disparage her claim that she had lived throughMy first instinct was to disparage her . . . torment. But then I realized that my attitude was imitating Cousin Sam. Maybe, just maybe, her challenge had been as daunting for her as my own challenges were for me.
The following week, the same lady spoke about how difficult it was for her that she could not afford a certain fancy laundry hamper that would make her laundry sorting easier. The way she spoke about it, one would have thought she didn’t own a washing machine and had to wash her clothing in the river like in the olden days.
A fancy laundry hamper? I thought. Is that such a terrible lack? But again, Cousin Sam’s voice echoed in my head, and I caught myself. Who was I to say that her unsatisfied need for a hamper was a trivial need?
A friend of mine who is a therapist once told me a great story with a similar message. Her client was a teenage girl who was dealing with two huge stressors in her life. The first was speech impairment—a significant stutter—while the second was a relocation overseas with her family. Now, in addition to the stutter, she had to contend with a new culture and language, and during her teenage years, to boot.
The therapist had a suspicion that the girl and her mother had different perspectives on the daughter’s challenges, and decided to conduct an experiment. Using the imagery of a pizza pie, the girl was asked to rate how many slices of the pie each problem took up, by raising her fingers with her eyes closed. Her mother was asked to do the same, rating how she felt her daughter viewed each problem.
When asked about the stutter, the mother raised seven fingers, almost the entire pie; she felt her daughter must be suffering terribly from her stutter. Surprisingly, the teen raised two fingers. When asked about the family’s relocation, the mother held up four fingers; she felt her daughter was managing the move beautifully. The teen raised eight!1 The mother thoughtshe knew what was hard for her daughter and what was easy for her—but as it turned out, she had it all backwards! How often do we have it backwards when we evaluate other people’s suffering? In fact, who are we to evaluate their struggles at all?
Ultimately, there really is no room to compare suffering between individuals since as believing Jews, we know that the world is not random and suffering is Divinely orchestrated. We are placed in this world to fulfill a specific task, and howThere is no room to compare suffering much suffering that may require is individual. And since each person’s suffering is uniquely tailored to him or her, it stands to reason that one person’s “small” challenges may be as great as someone else’s “big” ones.
I recently suffered a difficult challenge, the birth of a child with medical issues. While speaking with my sister-in-law about various doctor’s visits and tests, I became conscious that I was monopolizing the conversation. I made sure to ask her, “What is new at your end?” I could tell she was uncomfortable. She surely felt awkward telling me about her day-to-day doings when I was dealing with something so major. So I put her at ease. “Really, I want to know. I haven’t lost my ability to talk about normal things, too.”
I guess I do need to thank Cousin Sam—for letting me know what it feels like to be on the receiving end.
FOOTNOTES
1.Special thanks to Miriam Klapper and Uri Schnieder of Schneider Speech for this story.
BY SHIRA BECKER
Shira Becker is a pen name.
Artwork by Sefira Ross, a freelance designer and illustrator whose original creations grace many Chabad.org pages. Residing in Seattle, Washington, her days are spent between multitasking illustrations and being a mom.© Copyright, all rights reserved. If you enjoyed this article, we encourage you to distribute it further, provided that you comply with Chabad.org's copyright policy.
STUDY
The Prohibition Against Physical Violence
Surely we don’t need G‑d to tell us that physical violence is not allowed?
By Yisroel Dovid Klein
In almost all modern societies there are laws prohibiting acts of physical violence. It comes as no surprise that the Torah also considers it a grave sin.
And yet, surely we don’t need G‑d to tell us that physical violence is not allowed, as all half-decent people could come to thisSurely we don’t need G‑d to tell us that physical violence is not allowed conclusion on their own. And that’s not the only obvious commandment. Did G‑d really need to tell us not to murder?
One of the reasons we need these Divine commands is because, although the general prohibition may be dictated by logic, the details are often not,1 For example, it might be obvious that we should not take another person’s life, but when does life start? When does it end? Are there any exceptions?
Additionally, a person is not always capable of remaining objective. Hence these mitzvahs need the force of a Divine commandment to stop a person from bending them because of subjectivity and bias.2
Now let us explore what the Torah actually says about physical violence.
The Prohibition
One who wounds or even hits another person actually transgresses one of the 365 prohibitions of the Torah. Although there’s no verse in the Torah that explicitly forbids hitting, the Talmud derives the prohibition from the verses that discuss the punishment of lashes.3
The verses state that in some instances people who transgress Torah prohibitions receive 40 lashes (which the rabbis explain to mean 39), and that the person giving the lashes “shall not exceed, lest he give him a much more severe flogging than these [40 lashes].”4 In practice, the Jewish courts would assess if the offender was strong enough to withstand the 39 lashes, and if not, he was given only as many lashes as he could bear.5 If the courts would strike the offender even one extra time, they would have transgressed the prohibition of “he shall not exceed.”
Our sages reason: If it is forbidden to give even one extra extra lash to a wicked person, all the more so must it be forbidden to hit an innocent person, who is deserving of no lashes whatsoever.6
The Punishment
Generally speaking, when somebody damages another person’s property he is liable to pay damages. Similarly when one inflicts damage on another person, he is obligated to pay. In addition to actual damages, the Torah obligates the person to pay for pain, doctors’ fees, lost revenue and even embarrassment.
(How these payments are assessed is a subject of an entire chapter in Talmud7 and is beyond the scope of our discussion.)
Now, there is a rule that one who is liable to pay for a transgression is not subjected to corporal punishment as well. However, in a case where no damage was caused, or where the damage was insignificant (less than a small coin’s worth, shaveh prutah), and as a result there was no monetary payment imposed on the offender, then the punishment of lashes was administered.8
In post-Talmudic times, the rabbis instituted a law that, in certain situations, one who commits an act of violence against another person is to be excommunicated and cannot be counted towards a minyan.9
But He Hit Me First
Even in situations where somebody else started the fight, it is nonetheless forbidden to hit back.10 However, if there is no other way of restraining an attacker, it would be permitted to use force, provided that you hit the person no more than is absolutely necessary.11
If You Have Permission
There is a dispute as to whether or not one is permitted to hit someone who has given permission to be hit. The Rivash (Rabbi Yitzchak Ben Sheshet, 1326–1408) rules that it is forbidden,12 and this seems to be the opinion of most subsequent authorities on Jewish law. One reason for this is that one does not have autonomy over one’s body, which is the property of G‑d, and therefore one has no right to allow someone else to hit him.
Exceptions
One is permitted to evict a person from one’s home if that person has no right to be there.13 If he refuses to leave, some authorities permit one to use physical force when evicting him.14 However, the use of force is only permitted as a last resort.
Similarly, when absolutely necessary, it is permitted to use physical force in order to retrieve a stolen object, or for that matter to stop a person from stealing from you.15
Technically, one is permitted to hit one’s children or students in an effort to discipline them.16 However, contemporary halachic authorities say that this does not apply in this day and age.17
Types of Hitting
It must be noted that not all types of hitting are included in the prohibition. Maimonides writes that it is only hitting with malice that is forbidden. (According to another version of Maimonides, only hitting of a “degrading nature” is forbidden.)18
Based on this, Rabbi Moshe Feinstein allows cosmetic surgery, since any wounds inflicted in the process of the surgery are not of a degrading nature, and are not inflicted maliciously.19 However, others disagree with this,20 so be sure to consult a rabbi before any elective surgery. (Read more at Is Elective Surgery Permissible?)
In a similar vein, the second Ashkenazi Chief Rabbi of Israel, Rabbi Isser Unterman, permitted boxing and other forms of combat sports, arguing that they do not fall under the category of hitting with malice.21
Lifting a Hand
When Moses, who was brought up in Pharaoh’s home, left the palace to see how his fellow Jews were doing, he encountered two Jews fighting. The verse states that “Moses turned to the wicked one and asked him, ‘Why are you going to strike your friend?’”22 A close reading reveals that the person had not yet hit his fellow and, nonetheless, the Torah refers to him as wicked. The Talmud concludes that even one who merely lifts up his hand in violence is deemed wicked.23
Some authorities suggest that a would-be striker has not actually committed any sin in the legal sense; the Talmud just wants to emphasize its hard-line approach to interpersonal violence.24
However, most authorities opine that it is a sin to lift a hand in violence.25There is discussion as to whether this sin is biblical or rabbinical in nature.26The fact that it is derived from the verse in Exodus would seem to imply that it is forbidden on a biblical level, and this is in fact the opinion of many authorities.27 However, it seems that in Maimonides’ opinion it is forbidden only on a rabbinical level, since this verse does not explicitly teach this law.28
Some authorities rule that one who lifts his hand in violence is not invalidated as a witness.29 The reason for this would be that, although there is a rule that a wicked person is invalidated as a witness, one is considered wicked only if the sin committed is punishable by lashes,30 and the general consensus is that lifting a hand does not warrant lashes.
However, in the opinion of most authorities, and this is in fact the final halachah,31 one who lifts a hand in violence is invalidated from being a witness.Why?
1) Rabbi Yosef Karo posits that, although the rule is that only one who commits a Torah transgression that is punishable by lashes is invalidated from serving as a witness, from the perspective of rabbinic law, an offender can be invalidated even where there are no lashes if the prohibition transgressed is biblical.32
2) Lifting up one’s hand against another person is an exception, since the Torah explicitly called such a person a wicked person and, as mentioned above, wicked people are invalidated from serving as witnesses.33
A number of explanations have been given as to why lifting a hand is forbidden:
1) Lifting up one’s hand is the beginning of the forbidden act of hitting.34
2) The problem lies in the fact that the person has shown intent to commit the sin of hitting another person.35
3) The prohibition serves as a safeguard against the sin of hitting another person. The Torah (or the rabbis) forbade lifting one’s hand against another person so as to prevent people from transgressing the prohibition of hitting another person.36
4) The mere act of lifting one’s hand is an act of violence and shows a negative character trait in the aggressor.37
5) Alternatively, the mere act of lifting one’s hand instills fear in the other person. As a result the aggressor transgresses the prohibition of onaat devarim (verbal oppression), causing emotional pain to another person.38
Practical Ramifications
The Rebbe posits that the distinct reasons given above as to why lifting a hand is forbidden lead to different understandings of the Talmudic statement regarding the offender’s wickedness and eligibility to serve as a witness.39
If one adopts the explanation that raising one’s hand in violence is problematic because it is the beginning of the act of hitting or because it shows intent to hit one’s fellow (explanations #1 and #2 ), then it would be difficult to understand how raising one’s hand could have any legal ramifications. There is a general rule that the Torah does not punish for intent alone, and seeing that no harm has been inflicted on the other person, why would such a person be considered wicked in any legal sense of the world? It therefore makes sense to say that the Talmud was not making any legal statement, but rather is to be understood homiletically. It follows that the act of lifting one’s hand up in violence does not actually invalidate the offender from serving as a witness.
If however, one adopts the explanation that the act of lifting one’s hand up in violence is in itself a negative act (reasons #4 and #5), then there is no reason not to take the Talmud literally to mean that it is a forbidden act, and one can readily understand why it disqualifies one who commits this act from serving as a witness.
The Purpose of Hands
The Rebbe offers a fascinating insight into why lifting one’s hand against another person is considered such a terrible act.
In a talk on Shabbat Parshat Noach 5748, the Rebbe asked why the Talmud specifically states that one who lifts his hand is consideredHands were created to do acts of kindness wicked. Surely one who lifts up any other body part against another person should be considered wicked as well?
The Rebbe answered that there is an important lesson to be learned from the phrasing of this Talmudic dictum. A person’s hand was created to do acts of tzedakah (charity) and kindness. When a person uses his hand for opposite aims, he sins, not only against his fellow man, but also against his Creator, who created his hand for a specific purpose.
This passage of Talmud teaches us how important it is to use all the gifts G‑d has bestowed on us—wealth, health and talents—for the purpose for which they were created, namely, for the service of G‑d.
FOOTNOTES
1.See for example, Maimonides, Moreh Nevuchim 3:26.
2.See for example, Likutei Sichot, vol. 3 p.389.
3.Ketubot 33a.
4.Deuteronomy 25:3.
5.Maimonides, Laws of the Courts and the Penalties Under Their Jurisdiction 17:1.
6.Maimonides laws of Injuries and Damages 5:1.
7.Bava Kama, ch. 8.
8.Talmud Ketubot 32b. Maimonides Ibid 5:3,
9.Rabbi Moshe Isserles in his glosses to Code of Jewish Law, Choshen Mishpat 420:1.
10.Code of Jewish law, Choshen Mishpat 421:13.
11.Ibid.
12.In Responsum 484.
13.Talmud, Bava Kama 48a.
14.Tur Choshen Mishpat 42.
15.Shulchan Aruch Harav, Nizkei Guf Vanefesh 3.
16.Talmud Makos 8b.
17.For example, Rabbi Yosef Shalom Elyashiv.
18.Laws of Injuries and Damages 5:1.
19.Igrot Moshe Choshen Mishpat 2:66.
20.Such as Rabbi Eliezer Waldenberg in Tzitz Eliezer 11:41.
21.In Responsa Shevet Miyehuda, vol. 1, Mahadura 2, p.439. Rabbi Unterman raises the point that this ruling of Maimonides seems to be at odds with the above cited opinion of Rivash, who ruled that one is not allowed to hit even if permission is granted. Surely there is no malice in hitting someone who agrees to be beaten. Rabbi Unterman argues that upon analysis of the case that Rivash was discussing it is possible that he could agree with Maimonides.
Rivash was discussing a case where someone borrows money with the understanding that if he doesn’t pay up, the lender will be allowed to beat him. Rivash ruled that despite the fact that permission was given, the hitting is still forbidden. Rabbi Unterman argues that despite the fact that permission was given it still constitutes hitting with malice, since the offender is upset that he didn’t receive his money. This would not, however, preclude the permissibility of sport fighting.
22.Exodus 2:13.
23.Sanhedrin 58b.
24.See Likutei Sichot, vol.31, p.3 fn 11 that this seems to be the implication of the Tur Choshen Mishhpat, beginning of 420. See however Yam Shel Sholmo, Bava Kama 8:63 cited in Likutei Sichot ibid fn 11.
25.See for example Maimonides, Laws of Damages and Injury, 5:2.
26.Likutei Sichos vol.31 p 2 and footnotes thereon.
27.See for example Beit Yosef Choshen Mishpat 34, who understands the Mordechai to be saying so.
28.Rather it is an asmachta, i.e., learned through a hint.
29.See Responsa Maharash MiLubin 89.
30.And certainly if the sin is punishable by the death penalty or karet.
31.Rabbi Moshe Isserles in his glosses to Code of Jewish Law, Choshen Mishpat, 34:4.
32.Beit Yosef Choshen Mishpat 34.
33.See Levush 34:4.
34.Likutei Sichot, vol.31, p.3.
35.Ruling of Rabbi Chaim Kanievsky printed in the back of L’reakha Kamokha, vol.4, p.351.
36.Vedorashta Vechokarta, pp.120-122.
37.Likutei Sichot, ibid.
38.‘L’reakha Kamokha, vol.4, p.56.
39.
Likutei Sichot, ibid.
BY YISROEL DOVID KLEIN
Artwork by Sefira Ross, a freelance designer and illustrator whose original creations grace many Chabad.org pages. Residing in Seattle, Washington, her days are spent between multitasking illustrations and being a mom.© Copyright, all rights reserved. If you enjoyed this article, we encourage you to distribute it further, provided that you comply with Chabad.org's copyright policy.
STORY
Surviving the Fall
When a man finds himself visited by the same recurring dream, his normal schedule begins to fall apart. Robbed of sleep, with his life taken over by the dream, he embarks on a quest of self-discovery to find out why the dream matters so much to him.
By Eli Landes
And yet, surely we don’t need G‑d to tell us that physical violence is not allowed, as all half-decent people could come to thisSurely we don’t need G‑d to tell us that physical violence is not allowed conclusion on their own. And that’s not the only obvious commandment. Did G‑d really need to tell us not to murder?
One of the reasons we need these Divine commands is because, although the general prohibition may be dictated by logic, the details are often not,1 For example, it might be obvious that we should not take another person’s life, but when does life start? When does it end? Are there any exceptions?
Additionally, a person is not always capable of remaining objective. Hence these mitzvahs need the force of a Divine commandment to stop a person from bending them because of subjectivity and bias.2
Now let us explore what the Torah actually says about physical violence.
The Prohibition
One who wounds or even hits another person actually transgresses one of the 365 prohibitions of the Torah. Although there’s no verse in the Torah that explicitly forbids hitting, the Talmud derives the prohibition from the verses that discuss the punishment of lashes.3
The verses state that in some instances people who transgress Torah prohibitions receive 40 lashes (which the rabbis explain to mean 39), and that the person giving the lashes “shall not exceed, lest he give him a much more severe flogging than these [40 lashes].”4 In practice, the Jewish courts would assess if the offender was strong enough to withstand the 39 lashes, and if not, he was given only as many lashes as he could bear.5 If the courts would strike the offender even one extra time, they would have transgressed the prohibition of “he shall not exceed.”
Our sages reason: If it is forbidden to give even one extra extra lash to a wicked person, all the more so must it be forbidden to hit an innocent person, who is deserving of no lashes whatsoever.6
The Punishment
Generally speaking, when somebody damages another person’s property he is liable to pay damages. Similarly when one inflicts damage on another person, he is obligated to pay. In addition to actual damages, the Torah obligates the person to pay for pain, doctors’ fees, lost revenue and even embarrassment.
(How these payments are assessed is a subject of an entire chapter in Talmud7 and is beyond the scope of our discussion.)
Now, there is a rule that one who is liable to pay for a transgression is not subjected to corporal punishment as well. However, in a case where no damage was caused, or where the damage was insignificant (less than a small coin’s worth, shaveh prutah), and as a result there was no monetary payment imposed on the offender, then the punishment of lashes was administered.8
In post-Talmudic times, the rabbis instituted a law that, in certain situations, one who commits an act of violence against another person is to be excommunicated and cannot be counted towards a minyan.9
But He Hit Me First
Even in situations where somebody else started the fight, it is nonetheless forbidden to hit back.10 However, if there is no other way of restraining an attacker, it would be permitted to use force, provided that you hit the person no more than is absolutely necessary.11
If You Have Permission
There is a dispute as to whether or not one is permitted to hit someone who has given permission to be hit. The Rivash (Rabbi Yitzchak Ben Sheshet, 1326–1408) rules that it is forbidden,12 and this seems to be the opinion of most subsequent authorities on Jewish law. One reason for this is that one does not have autonomy over one’s body, which is the property of G‑d, and therefore one has no right to allow someone else to hit him.
Exceptions
One is permitted to evict a person from one’s home if that person has no right to be there.13 If he refuses to leave, some authorities permit one to use physical force when evicting him.14 However, the use of force is only permitted as a last resort.
Similarly, when absolutely necessary, it is permitted to use physical force in order to retrieve a stolen object, or for that matter to stop a person from stealing from you.15
Technically, one is permitted to hit one’s children or students in an effort to discipline them.16 However, contemporary halachic authorities say that this does not apply in this day and age.17
Types of Hitting
It must be noted that not all types of hitting are included in the prohibition. Maimonides writes that it is only hitting with malice that is forbidden. (According to another version of Maimonides, only hitting of a “degrading nature” is forbidden.)18
Based on this, Rabbi Moshe Feinstein allows cosmetic surgery, since any wounds inflicted in the process of the surgery are not of a degrading nature, and are not inflicted maliciously.19 However, others disagree with this,20 so be sure to consult a rabbi before any elective surgery. (Read more at Is Elective Surgery Permissible?)
In a similar vein, the second Ashkenazi Chief Rabbi of Israel, Rabbi Isser Unterman, permitted boxing and other forms of combat sports, arguing that they do not fall under the category of hitting with malice.21
Lifting a Hand
When Moses, who was brought up in Pharaoh’s home, left the palace to see how his fellow Jews were doing, he encountered two Jews fighting. The verse states that “Moses turned to the wicked one and asked him, ‘Why are you going to strike your friend?’”22 A close reading reveals that the person had not yet hit his fellow and, nonetheless, the Torah refers to him as wicked. The Talmud concludes that even one who merely lifts up his hand in violence is deemed wicked.23
Some authorities suggest that a would-be striker has not actually committed any sin in the legal sense; the Talmud just wants to emphasize its hard-line approach to interpersonal violence.24
However, most authorities opine that it is a sin to lift a hand in violence.25There is discussion as to whether this sin is biblical or rabbinical in nature.26The fact that it is derived from the verse in Exodus would seem to imply that it is forbidden on a biblical level, and this is in fact the opinion of many authorities.27 However, it seems that in Maimonides’ opinion it is forbidden only on a rabbinical level, since this verse does not explicitly teach this law.28
Some authorities rule that one who lifts his hand in violence is not invalidated as a witness.29 The reason for this would be that, although there is a rule that a wicked person is invalidated as a witness, one is considered wicked only if the sin committed is punishable by lashes,30 and the general consensus is that lifting a hand does not warrant lashes.
However, in the opinion of most authorities, and this is in fact the final halachah,31 one who lifts a hand in violence is invalidated from being a witness.Why?
1) Rabbi Yosef Karo posits that, although the rule is that only one who commits a Torah transgression that is punishable by lashes is invalidated from serving as a witness, from the perspective of rabbinic law, an offender can be invalidated even where there are no lashes if the prohibition transgressed is biblical.32
2) Lifting up one’s hand against another person is an exception, since the Torah explicitly called such a person a wicked person and, as mentioned above, wicked people are invalidated from serving as witnesses.33
A number of explanations have been given as to why lifting a hand is forbidden:
1) Lifting up one’s hand is the beginning of the forbidden act of hitting.34
2) The problem lies in the fact that the person has shown intent to commit the sin of hitting another person.35
3) The prohibition serves as a safeguard against the sin of hitting another person. The Torah (or the rabbis) forbade lifting one’s hand against another person so as to prevent people from transgressing the prohibition of hitting another person.36
4) The mere act of lifting one’s hand is an act of violence and shows a negative character trait in the aggressor.37
5) Alternatively, the mere act of lifting one’s hand instills fear in the other person. As a result the aggressor transgresses the prohibition of onaat devarim (verbal oppression), causing emotional pain to another person.38
Practical Ramifications
The Rebbe posits that the distinct reasons given above as to why lifting a hand is forbidden lead to different understandings of the Talmudic statement regarding the offender’s wickedness and eligibility to serve as a witness.39
If one adopts the explanation that raising one’s hand in violence is problematic because it is the beginning of the act of hitting or because it shows intent to hit one’s fellow (explanations #1 and #2 ), then it would be difficult to understand how raising one’s hand could have any legal ramifications. There is a general rule that the Torah does not punish for intent alone, and seeing that no harm has been inflicted on the other person, why would such a person be considered wicked in any legal sense of the world? It therefore makes sense to say that the Talmud was not making any legal statement, but rather is to be understood homiletically. It follows that the act of lifting one’s hand up in violence does not actually invalidate the offender from serving as a witness.
If however, one adopts the explanation that the act of lifting one’s hand up in violence is in itself a negative act (reasons #4 and #5), then there is no reason not to take the Talmud literally to mean that it is a forbidden act, and one can readily understand why it disqualifies one who commits this act from serving as a witness.
The Purpose of Hands
The Rebbe offers a fascinating insight into why lifting one’s hand against another person is considered such a terrible act.
In a talk on Shabbat Parshat Noach 5748, the Rebbe asked why the Talmud specifically states that one who lifts his hand is consideredHands were created to do acts of kindness wicked. Surely one who lifts up any other body part against another person should be considered wicked as well?
The Rebbe answered that there is an important lesson to be learned from the phrasing of this Talmudic dictum. A person’s hand was created to do acts of tzedakah (charity) and kindness. When a person uses his hand for opposite aims, he sins, not only against his fellow man, but also against his Creator, who created his hand for a specific purpose.
This passage of Talmud teaches us how important it is to use all the gifts G‑d has bestowed on us—wealth, health and talents—for the purpose for which they were created, namely, for the service of G‑d.
FOOTNOTES
1.See for example, Maimonides, Moreh Nevuchim 3:26.
2.See for example, Likutei Sichot, vol. 3 p.389.
3.Ketubot 33a.
4.Deuteronomy 25:3.
5.Maimonides, Laws of the Courts and the Penalties Under Their Jurisdiction 17:1.
6.Maimonides laws of Injuries and Damages 5:1.
7.Bava Kama, ch. 8.
8.Talmud Ketubot 32b. Maimonides Ibid 5:3,
9.Rabbi Moshe Isserles in his glosses to Code of Jewish Law, Choshen Mishpat 420:1.
10.Code of Jewish law, Choshen Mishpat 421:13.
11.Ibid.
12.In Responsum 484.
13.Talmud, Bava Kama 48a.
14.Tur Choshen Mishpat 42.
15.Shulchan Aruch Harav, Nizkei Guf Vanefesh 3.
16.Talmud Makos 8b.
17.For example, Rabbi Yosef Shalom Elyashiv.
18.Laws of Injuries and Damages 5:1.
19.Igrot Moshe Choshen Mishpat 2:66.
20.Such as Rabbi Eliezer Waldenberg in Tzitz Eliezer 11:41.
21.In Responsa Shevet Miyehuda, vol. 1, Mahadura 2, p.439. Rabbi Unterman raises the point that this ruling of Maimonides seems to be at odds with the above cited opinion of Rivash, who ruled that one is not allowed to hit even if permission is granted. Surely there is no malice in hitting someone who agrees to be beaten. Rabbi Unterman argues that upon analysis of the case that Rivash was discussing it is possible that he could agree with Maimonides.
Rivash was discussing a case where someone borrows money with the understanding that if he doesn’t pay up, the lender will be allowed to beat him. Rivash ruled that despite the fact that permission was given, the hitting is still forbidden. Rabbi Unterman argues that despite the fact that permission was given it still constitutes hitting with malice, since the offender is upset that he didn’t receive his money. This would not, however, preclude the permissibility of sport fighting.
22.Exodus 2:13.
23.Sanhedrin 58b.
24.See Likutei Sichot, vol.31, p.3 fn 11 that this seems to be the implication of the Tur Choshen Mishhpat, beginning of 420. See however Yam Shel Sholmo, Bava Kama 8:63 cited in Likutei Sichot ibid fn 11.
25.See for example Maimonides, Laws of Damages and Injury, 5:2.
26.Likutei Sichos vol.31 p 2 and footnotes thereon.
27.See for example Beit Yosef Choshen Mishpat 34, who understands the Mordechai to be saying so.
28.Rather it is an asmachta, i.e., learned through a hint.
29.See Responsa Maharash MiLubin 89.
30.And certainly if the sin is punishable by the death penalty or karet.
31.Rabbi Moshe Isserles in his glosses to Code of Jewish Law, Choshen Mishpat, 34:4.
32.Beit Yosef Choshen Mishpat 34.
33.See Levush 34:4.
34.Likutei Sichot, vol.31, p.3.
35.Ruling of Rabbi Chaim Kanievsky printed in the back of L’reakha Kamokha, vol.4, p.351.
36.Vedorashta Vechokarta, pp.120-122.
37.Likutei Sichot, ibid.
38.‘L’reakha Kamokha, vol.4, p.56.
39.
Likutei Sichot, ibid.
BY YISROEL DOVID KLEIN
Artwork by Sefira Ross, a freelance designer and illustrator whose original creations grace many Chabad.org pages. Residing in Seattle, Washington, her days are spent between multitasking illustrations and being a mom.© Copyright, all rights reserved. If you enjoyed this article, we encourage you to distribute it further, provided that you comply with Chabad.org's copyright policy.
STORY
Surviving the Fall
When a man finds himself visited by the same recurring dream, his normal schedule begins to fall apart. Robbed of sleep, with his life taken over by the dream, he embarks on a quest of self-discovery to find out why the dream matters so much to him.
By Eli Landes
“The hardest part of climbing is the fall.”
I'm standing with my instructor at the foot of a snow-covered mountain. Strong winds wail as they rush by, hurling small beads of snow in their passing and slapping my face with the icy cold. I huddle deeper into my thick down coat.
I look at him in surprise. "Isn't falling the last thing you want to happen when climbing?"
The instructor chuckles. He has to shout to be heard over the wind. "Yeah. It is. But it happens. The wind knocks you off course, your foot slips, the rope comes loose. You fall. Most people are so terrified of falling, so focused on making sure they never do, they don't know what to do when it happens."
I look up at the mountain looming above us. It just seems to ascend higher, eventually becoming lost in clouds. I swallow.
"Most times, you manage to catch yourself when you slip. But sometimes you can't. And then you fall."
I stare, captivated by his words.
"There's a moment, when you fall, that everything seems to stands still. You see the earth coming towards you, but you haven't hit it yet. It feels like you can fall forever. And then you hit.
"What makes the fall so bad isn't the fall itself. Sure, you may hurt yourself. Maybe even break something. But that's not the really bad part. It's getting up again. Getting up, bruised, battered, maybe worse, and looking up at how far you've fallen. And starting to climb again."
I jerk awake, body clammy with sweat. I stare blindly around the room for a moment, panting, tangled in my blankets. Slowly, I calm down, recognize my bedroom. I turn to the clock – 4:45am. I sigh and rub a hand across my eyes.
Just a dream.
I lie back down again. Listen to the sound of my heartbeat, the ticking of the clock. I practice breathing slowly to calm my still thudding breath. What a weird dream. I've never climbed a thing in my life. I mentally shrug, turn over, and try to go back to sleep.
Yet sleep proves elusive for the remainder of the night.
I can't focus that day at work. I keep thinking I can feel that snowy wind every time someone opens a window, hear the instructor's words whenever the office falls quiet. I try to put it out of my mind, but I catch myself thinking about it when I'm not paying attention.
By the time the day finally crawls to an end, I can barely keep my eyes open. I all but float home, my mind swimming in a groggy haze of exhaustion. I absently-mindedly put something in the oven to eat, plop down on the couch. Somehow, I manage to stay awake for the next three hours, keeping myself occupied with activities I can barely remember the moment I complete them.
Finally, I crawl into bed. I'm asleep almost as soon as I hit the pillow.
"The hardest part of climbing is the fall."
I wake up soaked in cold sweat. The dream again, the same dream. I get up, wash my face, pace my room, go back to bed. It doesn't help. I can't fall back asleep.
I sigh. This is going to be rough day.
The week passes by in a blur. Has it been a week? Oh man, what day is it?"
"The wind knocks you off course, your foot slips, the rope comes loose."
Days blend, work becomes forgotten. The dream comes back, every night. Every day, it torments me.
"You fall."
I'm so tired. When was the last time I slept?
"...everything stands still."
"Sir?"
"And then you hit."
I don't even know what day it is anymore. My life revolves around the dream now.
Icy winds, frozen snow. A huge mountain.
"Sir?"
"...bruised, battered, maybe even worse..."
Oh G‑d, I just need to sleep.
"The hardest part of climbing is the fall."
"Sir, are you OK?"
I look around blindly, lost in my thoughts. I'm standing on a sidewalk. I don't recognize this part of town, don't remember walking here. A man in a coat is staring at me in concern.
"Huh?"
The man comes closer. "Are you OK? You've been standing there for a few minutes now, just muttering something about falling. Do you need help?"
It takes me a moment to focus long enough to understand him. "No? No, no it's Ok. I'm fine. Just been a long week. Thank you."
I walk past him, turn the corner. I'm still walking when I realize I have nowhere to go. I don't even know how to get home. I look around, searching for signs, and notice a synagogue across the road.
I swallow.
It's been a long time.
After a moment, I cross the road.
The synagogue is dark, filled with long pews facing the front. I sit in one, head bent, thinking. After some time, the door opens behind me. I stay in my place, eyes downcast as the synagogue echoes with approaching footsteps and quiet voices. A hollow click sounds as one of the men turn on the lights, causing me to squint.
After a few minutes, I hear footsteps echo on the floor as someone approaches. I look up. It’s the rabbi. The pew creaks as he sits down beside me.
He studies me for a moment. “You look familiar. You used to pray here, didn’t you?”
“A long time ago.”
“What happened?”
I turn away. “I fell.”
He nods, as if he knows exactly what I mean. “And now?”
“I…I don’t know. I’ve been told that the hardest part of climbing is the fall. Getting back up again. Trying again. Can I ever get back to where I was? Should I? What if…” I fall silent.
“What if you fall again?” He finishes the sentence for me, the words soft, filled with understanding, as if he’s had this conversation many times before. “What if this time, you can’t get back up?”
I nod.
“Do you know what makes falling so hard? It’s not getting back to where you were. It’s thinking that you have to today. I don’t know what the future will bring – how high you’ll climb, whether you’ll fall again, whether you’ll get back up. But what I do know is that the possibilities of the future don’t change what’s in front of you today. Today you don’t need to climb a mountain. Today, you need to get on your feet. You need to take a step. That’s all you can do.”
I look up at him. He smiles back at me.
“We’re trying to make a minyan for the evening prayers. We could really use a tenth man.”
BY ELI LANDES
Eli Landes was ordained as a rabbi in South Africa, and is working to complete his Bachelor of Arts. Currently residing in Brooklyn, N.Y., he enjoys blending the esoteric depths of Chassidus with the creativity of writing.
Artwork by Sefira Ross, a freelance designer and illustrator whose original creations grace many Chabad.org pages. Residing in Seattle, Washington, her days are spent between multitasking illustrations and being a mom.© Copyright, all rights reserved. If you enjoyed this article, we encourage you to distribute it further, provided that you comply with Chabad.org's copyright policy.
To the Ohel and Back
I'm standing with my instructor at the foot of a snow-covered mountain. Strong winds wail as they rush by, hurling small beads of snow in their passing and slapping my face with the icy cold. I huddle deeper into my thick down coat.
I look at him in surprise. "Isn't falling the last thing you want to happen when climbing?"
The instructor chuckles. He has to shout to be heard over the wind. "Yeah. It is. But it happens. The wind knocks you off course, your foot slips, the rope comes loose. You fall. Most people are so terrified of falling, so focused on making sure they never do, they don't know what to do when it happens."
I look up at the mountain looming above us. It just seems to ascend higher, eventually becoming lost in clouds. I swallow.
"Most times, you manage to catch yourself when you slip. But sometimes you can't. And then you fall."
I stare, captivated by his words.
"There's a moment, when you fall, that everything seems to stands still. You see the earth coming towards you, but you haven't hit it yet. It feels like you can fall forever. And then you hit.
"What makes the fall so bad isn't the fall itself. Sure, you may hurt yourself. Maybe even break something. But that's not the really bad part. It's getting up again. Getting up, bruised, battered, maybe worse, and looking up at how far you've fallen. And starting to climb again."
I jerk awake, body clammy with sweat. I stare blindly around the room for a moment, panting, tangled in my blankets. Slowly, I calm down, recognize my bedroom. I turn to the clock – 4:45am. I sigh and rub a hand across my eyes.
Just a dream.
I lie back down again. Listen to the sound of my heartbeat, the ticking of the clock. I practice breathing slowly to calm my still thudding breath. What a weird dream. I've never climbed a thing in my life. I mentally shrug, turn over, and try to go back to sleep.
Yet sleep proves elusive for the remainder of the night.
I can't focus that day at work. I keep thinking I can feel that snowy wind every time someone opens a window, hear the instructor's words whenever the office falls quiet. I try to put it out of my mind, but I catch myself thinking about it when I'm not paying attention.
By the time the day finally crawls to an end, I can barely keep my eyes open. I all but float home, my mind swimming in a groggy haze of exhaustion. I absently-mindedly put something in the oven to eat, plop down on the couch. Somehow, I manage to stay awake for the next three hours, keeping myself occupied with activities I can barely remember the moment I complete them.
Finally, I crawl into bed. I'm asleep almost as soon as I hit the pillow.
"The hardest part of climbing is the fall."
I wake up soaked in cold sweat. The dream again, the same dream. I get up, wash my face, pace my room, go back to bed. It doesn't help. I can't fall back asleep.
I sigh. This is going to be rough day.
The week passes by in a blur. Has it been a week? Oh man, what day is it?"
"The wind knocks you off course, your foot slips, the rope comes loose."
Days blend, work becomes forgotten. The dream comes back, every night. Every day, it torments me.
"You fall."
I'm so tired. When was the last time I slept?
"...everything stands still."
"Sir?"
"And then you hit."
I don't even know what day it is anymore. My life revolves around the dream now.
Icy winds, frozen snow. A huge mountain.
"Sir?"
"...bruised, battered, maybe even worse..."
Oh G‑d, I just need to sleep.
"The hardest part of climbing is the fall."
"Sir, are you OK?"
I look around blindly, lost in my thoughts. I'm standing on a sidewalk. I don't recognize this part of town, don't remember walking here. A man in a coat is staring at me in concern.
"Huh?"
The man comes closer. "Are you OK? You've been standing there for a few minutes now, just muttering something about falling. Do you need help?"
It takes me a moment to focus long enough to understand him. "No? No, no it's Ok. I'm fine. Just been a long week. Thank you."
I walk past him, turn the corner. I'm still walking when I realize I have nowhere to go. I don't even know how to get home. I look around, searching for signs, and notice a synagogue across the road.
I swallow.
It's been a long time.
After a moment, I cross the road.
The synagogue is dark, filled with long pews facing the front. I sit in one, head bent, thinking. After some time, the door opens behind me. I stay in my place, eyes downcast as the synagogue echoes with approaching footsteps and quiet voices. A hollow click sounds as one of the men turn on the lights, causing me to squint.
After a few minutes, I hear footsteps echo on the floor as someone approaches. I look up. It’s the rabbi. The pew creaks as he sits down beside me.
He studies me for a moment. “You look familiar. You used to pray here, didn’t you?”
“A long time ago.”
“What happened?”
I turn away. “I fell.”
He nods, as if he knows exactly what I mean. “And now?”
“I…I don’t know. I’ve been told that the hardest part of climbing is the fall. Getting back up again. Trying again. Can I ever get back to where I was? Should I? What if…” I fall silent.
“What if you fall again?” He finishes the sentence for me, the words soft, filled with understanding, as if he’s had this conversation many times before. “What if this time, you can’t get back up?”
I nod.
“Do you know what makes falling so hard? It’s not getting back to where you were. It’s thinking that you have to today. I don’t know what the future will bring – how high you’ll climb, whether you’ll fall again, whether you’ll get back up. But what I do know is that the possibilities of the future don’t change what’s in front of you today. Today you don’t need to climb a mountain. Today, you need to get on your feet. You need to take a step. That’s all you can do.”
I look up at him. He smiles back at me.
“We’re trying to make a minyan for the evening prayers. We could really use a tenth man.”
BY ELI LANDES
Eli Landes was ordained as a rabbi in South Africa, and is working to complete his Bachelor of Arts. Currently residing in Brooklyn, N.Y., he enjoys blending the esoteric depths of Chassidus with the creativity of writing.
Artwork by Sefira Ross, a freelance designer and illustrator whose original creations grace many Chabad.org pages. Residing in Seattle, Washington, her days are spent between multitasking illustrations and being a mom.© Copyright, all rights reserved. If you enjoyed this article, we encourage you to distribute it further, provided that you comply with Chabad.org's copyright policy.
To the Ohel and Back
Messages From the Graves of Spiritual Giants
I began reading Psalms for perhaps the first time in my life, and immediately felt a rush of positive energy . . .
By Yaacov Noah Gothard
Spanish
"El Ohel" es el lugar de reposo del Lubavitcher Rebe, Rabí Menajem Mendel Schneerson, sea su memoria bendición...
German
Hebrew
מקום מנוחתו
על מקום מנוחתו של הרבי בקווינס, ניו יורק.
French
Russian
И сегодня множество людей продолжают писать Ребе письма, присылая их на Оэль, в которых они просят Ребе о благословении, наставлении и заступничестве...
Portuguese
I began reading Psalms for perhaps the first time in my life, and immediately felt a rush of positive energy . . .
By Yaacov Noah Gothard
Spanish
"El Ohel" es el lugar de reposo del Lubavitcher Rebe, Rabí Menajem Mendel Schneerson, sea su memoria bendición...
German
Hebrew
מקום מנוחתו
על מקום מנוחתו של הרבי בקווינס, ניו יורק.
French
Russian
И сегодня множество людей продолжают писать Ребе письма, присылая их на Оэль, в которых они просят Ребе о благословении, наставлении и заступничестве...
Portuguese
YOUR QUESTIONS
Why Is It So Hard to Immigrate?
Your difficulty is not uncommon. In fact every soul goes through a similar process on its journey to higher worlds.
By Aron Moss
Question:
The immigration experience has been much harder than expected. I am here for a year already, and not at all acclimated. Don't get me wrong, I have been welcomed with open arms into this community, and people have been great to me. But I miss home, still don't really feel I fit in and don't get the mentality. I am still very much a foreigner. Jews have moved around a lot in history, so is there a Jewish approach to adjusting to new country?
Answer:
Your difficulty is not uncommon. In fact every soul goes through a similar process on its journey to higher worlds.
Death is the ultimate immigration experience. The soul leaves this world and moves into the spiritual realm. This is most unsettling. Having become accustomed to life in a body on earth, the soul is at first disoriented and lost in its new supernal domain.
In order to adjust to this new reality, the soul has to be helped to forget physical life, to actively rid itself of the sights and sounds, the flavors and the attitudes of life in a body. As long as the soul still holds on to worldly memories it cannot appreciate this new, more refined world.
Of course, the soul can hold on to memories of the loved ones it left behind, because those connections are not merely physical. But tactile sensations and bodily pleasures must be forgotten in order to develop a taste for the higher pleasures up there.
This is astounding. It means you can be in heaven and not enjoy yourself, because you are thinking of the life you left behind. You'd expect that physical pleasures would pale in comparison to heavenly life. But no. The memory of familiar comforts will blind you to the opportunities that are still unfamiliar. No matter how sublime the delights of paradise may be, if you are still in earth mode, you will not appreciate them. You must shed your worldly outlook before you can adopt an other-worldly one.
The same applies to immigration. As long as your head is back in the old country, you will never settle in the new. You may be right—the water tasted better, the traffic wasn't as bad, the bureaucracy and the mentality and the accent and the price of fish are all better back home. Maybe. But you will only make your new country home if you stop comparing it and start living in it.
Being away from family and friends will always be tough. But you need to consciously make a shift—an immigration of the mind—by saying, "Now I'm here, and that's that." Then give it some time. Even heaven takes getting used to.
Source:
Zohar II 211b
BY ARON MOSS
Aron Moss is rabbi of the Nefesh Community in Sydney, Australia, and is a frequent contributor to Chabad.org.© Copyright, all rights reserved. If you enjoyed this article, we encourage you to distribute it further, provided that you comply with Chabad.org's copyright policy.
LIFESTYLE
How To Decorate a Birthday Cake—No Skills Required!
By Miriam Szokovski
I'm celebrating four(!) years of blogging with this no-special-skills-required decorating technique, perfect for birthdays and other special occasions. You could use this technique to decorate cakes for a bat mitzvah, bar mitzvah, brit milah, upsherin, birthday, chanukah party, etc. It's easier than fondant or buttercream, and always a crowd-pleaser.
What's more fun and festive than sprinkles? You can use multicolor, one color, or personalize the colors to fit in with a theme. They're versatile, pretty much universally loved, and appropriate for most parties.
I've covered the cake with ganache and then covered the ganache with sprinkles. Ganache is the easiest way to cover a cake, in my opinion. It tastes delicious, it's quick to make, easy to use, and is especially great if you dislike eating or working with buttercream.
There's not much more to say, except that be prepared for the mess sprinkles can make. To help with that, I like to place a wire cooling rack on a baking sheet. Place the cake on the rack and start to cover. This way, the sprinkles will fall down into the pan, where you can easily scoop them back up and re-use.
Ingredients:
2 cups heavy cream
1 lb. dark chocolate, chopped
salt (optional)
2 cups sprinkles
Directions:
Make your favorite cake recipe, or even use a cake mix. Bake 2-3 layers, and let them cool completely. Level the cakes so the tops are not rounded.
Place the chopped dark chocolate into a bowl. Heat the cream until just simmering.
Pour the cream over the chocolate and do not mix. Let it sit for two minutes, then whisk until smooth and glossy.
Let the ganache cool for a while so that it starts to thicken but is not fully set. Spread ganache between the cake layers and stack.
Pour the rest of the ganach over the top so it covers the cake and begins to drip down the sides. Use an offset spatula (or knife) to spread the ganach over the sides.
Pour sprinkles over the top of the cake until it's covered. To cover the sides, pour sprinkles into your hand and gently press into the ganache so they stick. Repeat until entire cake is covered. Gently move the cake to a cake plate and serve.
TIP: Place a wire cooling rack into a baking dish. Place the cake on the rack. This way, when the extra sprinkles will fall into the pan and can be scooped up again and used.
BY MIRIAM SZOKOVSKI
The immigration experience has been much harder than expected. I am here for a year already, and not at all acclimated. Don't get me wrong, I have been welcomed with open arms into this community, and people have been great to me. But I miss home, still don't really feel I fit in and don't get the mentality. I am still very much a foreigner. Jews have moved around a lot in history, so is there a Jewish approach to adjusting to new country?
Answer:
Your difficulty is not uncommon. In fact every soul goes through a similar process on its journey to higher worlds.
Death is the ultimate immigration experience. The soul leaves this world and moves into the spiritual realm. This is most unsettling. Having become accustomed to life in a body on earth, the soul is at first disoriented and lost in its new supernal domain.
In order to adjust to this new reality, the soul has to be helped to forget physical life, to actively rid itself of the sights and sounds, the flavors and the attitudes of life in a body. As long as the soul still holds on to worldly memories it cannot appreciate this new, more refined world.
Of course, the soul can hold on to memories of the loved ones it left behind, because those connections are not merely physical. But tactile sensations and bodily pleasures must be forgotten in order to develop a taste for the higher pleasures up there.
This is astounding. It means you can be in heaven and not enjoy yourself, because you are thinking of the life you left behind. You'd expect that physical pleasures would pale in comparison to heavenly life. But no. The memory of familiar comforts will blind you to the opportunities that are still unfamiliar. No matter how sublime the delights of paradise may be, if you are still in earth mode, you will not appreciate them. You must shed your worldly outlook before you can adopt an other-worldly one.
The same applies to immigration. As long as your head is back in the old country, you will never settle in the new. You may be right—the water tasted better, the traffic wasn't as bad, the bureaucracy and the mentality and the accent and the price of fish are all better back home. Maybe. But you will only make your new country home if you stop comparing it and start living in it.
Being away from family and friends will always be tough. But you need to consciously make a shift—an immigration of the mind—by saying, "Now I'm here, and that's that." Then give it some time. Even heaven takes getting used to.
Source:
Zohar II 211b
BY ARON MOSS
Aron Moss is rabbi of the Nefesh Community in Sydney, Australia, and is a frequent contributor to Chabad.org.© Copyright, all rights reserved. If you enjoyed this article, we encourage you to distribute it further, provided that you comply with Chabad.org's copyright policy.
LIFESTYLE
How To Decorate a Birthday Cake—No Skills Required!
By Miriam Szokovski
I'm celebrating four(!) years of blogging with this no-special-skills-required decorating technique, perfect for birthdays and other special occasions. You could use this technique to decorate cakes for a bat mitzvah, bar mitzvah, brit milah, upsherin, birthday, chanukah party, etc. It's easier than fondant or buttercream, and always a crowd-pleaser.
What's more fun and festive than sprinkles? You can use multicolor, one color, or personalize the colors to fit in with a theme. They're versatile, pretty much universally loved, and appropriate for most parties.
I've covered the cake with ganache and then covered the ganache with sprinkles. Ganache is the easiest way to cover a cake, in my opinion. It tastes delicious, it's quick to make, easy to use, and is especially great if you dislike eating or working with buttercream.
There's not much more to say, except that be prepared for the mess sprinkles can make. To help with that, I like to place a wire cooling rack on a baking sheet. Place the cake on the rack and start to cover. This way, the sprinkles will fall down into the pan, where you can easily scoop them back up and re-use.
Ingredients:
2 cups heavy cream
1 lb. dark chocolate, chopped
salt (optional)
2 cups sprinkles
Directions:
Make your favorite cake recipe, or even use a cake mix. Bake 2-3 layers, and let them cool completely. Level the cakes so the tops are not rounded.
Place the chopped dark chocolate into a bowl. Heat the cream until just simmering.
Pour the cream over the chocolate and do not mix. Let it sit for two minutes, then whisk until smooth and glossy.
Let the ganache cool for a while so that it starts to thicken but is not fully set. Spread ganache between the cake layers and stack.
Pour the rest of the ganach over the top so it covers the cake and begins to drip down the sides. Use an offset spatula (or knife) to spread the ganach over the sides.
Pour sprinkles over the top of the cake until it's covered. To cover the sides, pour sprinkles into your hand and gently press into the ganache so they stick. Repeat until entire cake is covered. Gently move the cake to a cake plate and serve.
TIP: Place a wire cooling rack into a baking dish. Place the cake on the rack. This way, when the extra sprinkles will fall into the pan and can be scooped up again and used.
BY MIRIAM SZOKOVSKI
Miriam Szokovski is the author of the historical novel Exiled Down Under, and a member of the Chabad.org editorial team. She shares her love of cooking, baking and food photography on Chabad.org’s food blog, Cook It Kosher.© Copyright, all rights reserved. If you enjoyed this article, we encourage you to distribute it further, provided that you comply with Chabad.org's copyright policy.
JEWISH NEWS
Chance Alaska Visit Becomes a Dying Man’s Bar Mitzvah
Thanks to two young Roving Rabbis, David O’Malley-Keyes discovered he was Jewish and packed his last weeks with the richness of Judaism.
By Menachem Posner
Chance Alaska Visit Becomes a Dying Man’s Bar Mitzvah
Thanks to two young Roving Rabbis, David O’Malley-Keyes discovered he was Jewish and packed his last weeks with the richness of Judaism.
By Menachem Posner
Having lived 64 years as a non-Jew, he packed his last weeks with the richness of Judaism
David O’Malley-Keyes of Alaska recently confirmed his Jewish heritage shortly before he lost a battle with cancer. One of his goals was to attend High Holiday services, which he did.
It had been a long, tiring day of knocking on doors.
Big Lake, Alaska, is not Brooklyn, N.Y., and out of thousands of houses, just one or two are home to Jewish people. Yet Rabbi Levi Levertov and Rabbi Yisroel Treitel, participants in the vaunted Roving Rabbis program, hopefully approached the next door. Little did they know that they were about to change a life forever.
“There are two guys with yarmulkes outside,” they heard from behind the closed door.
RELATED
Chabad Centers
Lubavitch Jewish Center of Alaska
When it was opened by a middle-aged woman, they were told in hushed tones that the house belonged to a man in the final stages of cancer who was not in the position to come to the door.
After exchanging contact information with the woman, whose name was Julia O’Malley-Keyes, they were about to leave when they suddenly found themselves in a conversation with the patient, a tall man with a neat gray goatee who was relaxing on a couch inside the house.
After he heard that they were rabbis in search of fellow Jews, the man, whose name was David O’Malley-Keyes, invited them inside.
Before leaving to live his last weeks in Washington, David displays a Tanya printed in Alaska, as well as a dollar that had been given by the Lubavitcher Rebbe.
He told them that he had lived most of his 64 years believing his family to be Christian—something he was never comfortable with. It was only recently that a sibling told him that his maternal grandmother had been Jewish, a fact that helped explain why his mother had so many Jewish friends and used Yiddishterms with her children.
Living in Alaska, far from his native of New Haven, Conn., he had tried to connect to the local Jewish community and explore his roots, but to no avail.
The visiting young men explained that they were there as part of a program that had been championed by the Lubavitcher Rebbe—Rabbi Menachem M. Schneerson, of righteous memory—to send young rabbis and rabbinical students to Jewish communities large and small all over the globe (and that such roving rabbis had been coming to Alaska since 1970).
The young men gently helped David into tefillin and helped him recite the words of the Shema for the first time in his life.
“G‑d works in unbelievable ways,” he remarked. “We don’t see any Jewish people around here. You came out of the blue!” He would later recall that he felt his hair was standing on end: “There was immensely powerful energy and spirit in the room at that time.”
Then, with tears in his eyes, he said the words of Shema, clearly and confidently affirming his Jewish identity.
“David,” said Julia with wonder in her voice, “you said you wanted something to take with you to the world to come—and here you have it.”
From left: Rabbi Levertov, David and Rabbi Treitel immediately following the impromptu bar mitzvah they celebrated together in Big Lake, Alaska.
The Goal? To Celebrate the Holidays
Knowing that they would soon be leaving Alaska, Levertov and Treitel connected the couple with Rabbi Mendel Greenberg, who co-directs the Mat-Su Jewish Center-Chabad Lubavitch in nearby Wasilla with his wife, Chaya.
Despite his deteriorating health and inability to eat, David asked Julia to help him attend Shabbat dinner at the Greenberg home. Speaking before a crowd of several dozen people, he shared the events that had led to the newfound discovery of his Jewish identity and internal peace. “It’s amazing to consider that out of all the millions of homes in Alaska, they chose to knock on my door at the time I needed it most. As things got worse, I had asked G‑d to send me a sign—and there they were.”
David affixes a mezuzah to his doorpost.
Over the course of the next few weeks, he shared another Shabbat meal with the Greenbergs and put on tefillin with the rabbi, an act that he called his “spiritual gas station.”
During the course of one of their visits (which often resulted in deeply emotional conversations), the discussion turned to the afterlife. In response to his questions, the rabbi told David how important it was for the soul that the body be buried, and not cremated.
“No problem,” said David, who was then planning to fly to Tacoma, Wash., to spend his last few weeks with his daughter. “I’ll call my daughter right now to make sure that we can make arrangements for a Jewish burial in Washington.”
As his condition had deteriorated, he had spoken with family members about how he wished to live long enough to vote in the presidential election. However, his focus had now shifted. “All I want to do is be able to celebrate the High Holidays as a Jew, being at one with G‑d,” he said.
He got his wish.
Rabbi Greenberg called his colleague Rabbi Zalman Heber, who leads Chabad of Pierce County in Tacoma, and filled him in on the situation.
Over the next few weeks, Rabbi Heber worked closely with the family to change from the planned cremation to a proper Jewish funeral.
Surrounded by new friends at Chabad of Pierce County, David was called to the Torah on Rosh Hashanah. It was the first time that he publically celebrated his place in the Jewish community. As the crowd broke out into joyous song, he cried and danced all at once. He also proudly held a Torah scroll during the blowing of the shofar.
Rabbi Mendel Greenberg, co-director of the Mat-Su Jewish Center–Chabad Lubavitch in nearby Wasilla, met with David as often as possible to chat and put on tefillin.
With his waning strength, he returned to the synagogue for Yom Kippur, the day he so hoped to be able to celebrate for once in his life. At the conclusion of the fast, he danced arm in arm with his fellow worshippers, weeping with emotion.
“He was a very special man,” reflected Rabbi Heber, who visited David almost daily to help him pray in tefillin, a mitzvah he cherished. “He really appreciated his return to Judaism and what it meant for his soul. He soaked it all up and mastered much of Jewish thought in a matter of weeks.”
It was at his bedside that David’s brother also put on tefillin for the first time in his life.
By the time Sukkot arrived, he was no longer able to make it out, though gratefully grasped the lulav and etrog and said the blessings with fervor.
As Rabbi Heber discussed funeral plans with David, he gently asked what message he would like him to share at his funeral. “Tell them,” said David sitting up and looking into the rabbi’s eyes, “that it is never too late to embrace your Judaism and be proud of it.” He had difficulty speaking but managed to say forcefully: “As long as I am alive, I want to be a source for G‑dly light in the world. Tell my story to anyone who wants to hear it, and this will cause me to live on after my death.”
Before the rabbi left, he helped David recite the Shema and Viduyconfession, traditionally said at the end of a Jew’s life.
He passed away the following day, less than a week after Simchat Torah, having lived to experience the holiday season as a Jew among Jews and was interred in a Jewish cemetery in Seattle.
David and Rabbi Shneur Zalman Heber of Chabad of Pierce County in Tacoma, Wash., second from right, are flanked by old friends.
BY MENACHEM POSNER© Copyright, all rights reserved. If you enjoyed this article, we encourage you to distribute it further, provided that you comply with Chabad.org's copyright policy.
Wisconsin Teen Who ‘Could Barely Walk’ Preps for Miami Marathon
Helped for years by Friendship Circle, the 16-year old is now raising funds for others.
By Liza Wiemer
Three years ago, Nathan Bojan was diagnosed with a condition called Tarsal Coalition, which made walking sheer agony; he’s been undergoing surgeries ever since. Recovering slowly, he is preparing to walk a half-marathon in January to raise money for Milwaukee’s Friendship Circle, which has been a steadfast support system for the 16-year-old and his family.
Imagine being 13 years old, in eighth grade, and every step you took brought intense pain. That was Nathan Bojan’s life.
A trip to an orthopedist and the Bojans had an answer: Nathan had a condition called Tarsal Coalition—the abnormal connection of two bones in the foot. Where people normally have tissue between bone, Nathan had none. Each step was agony.
Soon after the diagnosis, Nathan had his first surgery, but it did not resolve the problem. Over the course of the next few years, he underwent a total of six operations, each with varying recovery schedules, all of which involved getting around on a scooter, hours of physical therapy and plenty of time off his feet.
After a trip to Israel this past summer, he developed a blood blister on his right ankle that turned into cellulitis and a strep infection where a screw had been surgically implanted—an infection so serious that it could have killed him. Fortunately, he fully recovered, though he spent his birthday in August in the hospital.
Throughout Nathan’s ordeal, Friendship Circle of Wisconsin—a division of Lubavitchof Wisconsin—served as a staunch support system. Volunteers visited the hospital, bringing food and reading material, and helped with whatever needs the family required. For their part, the Bojans—including Nathan’s father, Steve; his mother, Shawn; and his sister, Leigh—say they are tremendously grateful for the love and attention showered upon them.
And now Nathan, 16, wants to give back.
In January, he and his mother will travel to Florida to participate in a half-marathon—that’s 13.1 miles—to raise money for Milwaukee’s Friendship Circle. It’s particularly meaningful since walking has been one of the most difficult challenges Nathan has faced in his young years. He will walk, however, slowly, with his mom by his side.
Nathan with his mother, Shawn Bojan, at a Friendship Circle program
“Raising money for Friendship Circle is extremely important to me,” he says. “I want to see our Milwaukee group grow. It needs to reach every person who could benefit from it. I want to be a part of that.”
This desire to pay it forward did not start with Nathan’s medical tribulations. When he was in fourth grade, Nathan was assigned as the Friendship Circle “buddy” of two high school seniors, Jack and Jacob, so he could improve certain social and physical skills. They visited with him every Sunday, taught him to play basketball, took him bowling and just hung out with him. It was the day of the week Nathan looked forward to the most. As his mother recalls: “G‑d forbid, we had to cancel a Sunday with Jack and Jacob. Nathan would get very upset.”
‘Tight-Knit Bonds’
Prompted by the positive experience, Nathan wanted to do for others. In sixth grade, he joined the drum circle and a music program called “Chai Notes,” saying he liked to make other people smile. “Smiling is contagious,” says the teenager. “I always appreciate when someone walks up to me with a smile that lights up the room.”
“What I love about Friendship Circle,” continues Nathan, “is that it’s so much more than getting together with people with special needs. It’s providing a comfortable place to have all people interact together and develop tight-knit bonds.”
Rabbi Levi Stein, director of Friendship Circle of Wisconsin, says: “I find tremendous inspiration whenever teens take time out of their busy schedules to volunteer for an important cause. It’s action like Nathan’s that makes me so grateful to do this work.”
To pledge on behalf of Nathan Bojan, click here.
Wrapping tefillin in the hospital, where he has been in and out of for years.
BY LIZA WIEMER© Copyright, all rights reserved. If you enjoyed this article, we encourage you to distribute it further, provided that you comply with Chabad.org's copyright policy.
David O’Malley-Keyes of Alaska recently confirmed his Jewish heritage shortly before he lost a battle with cancer. One of his goals was to attend High Holiday services, which he did.
It had been a long, tiring day of knocking on doors.
Big Lake, Alaska, is not Brooklyn, N.Y., and out of thousands of houses, just one or two are home to Jewish people. Yet Rabbi Levi Levertov and Rabbi Yisroel Treitel, participants in the vaunted Roving Rabbis program, hopefully approached the next door. Little did they know that they were about to change a life forever.
“There are two guys with yarmulkes outside,” they heard from behind the closed door.
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When it was opened by a middle-aged woman, they were told in hushed tones that the house belonged to a man in the final stages of cancer who was not in the position to come to the door.
After exchanging contact information with the woman, whose name was Julia O’Malley-Keyes, they were about to leave when they suddenly found themselves in a conversation with the patient, a tall man with a neat gray goatee who was relaxing on a couch inside the house.
After he heard that they were rabbis in search of fellow Jews, the man, whose name was David O’Malley-Keyes, invited them inside.
He told them that he had lived most of his 64 years believing his family to be Christian—something he was never comfortable with. It was only recently that a sibling told him that his maternal grandmother had been Jewish, a fact that helped explain why his mother had so many Jewish friends and used Yiddishterms with her children.
Living in Alaska, far from his native of New Haven, Conn., he had tried to connect to the local Jewish community and explore his roots, but to no avail.
The visiting young men explained that they were there as part of a program that had been championed by the Lubavitcher Rebbe—Rabbi Menachem M. Schneerson, of righteous memory—to send young rabbis and rabbinical students to Jewish communities large and small all over the globe (and that such roving rabbis had been coming to Alaska since 1970).
The young men gently helped David into tefillin and helped him recite the words of the Shema for the first time in his life.
“G‑d works in unbelievable ways,” he remarked. “We don’t see any Jewish people around here. You came out of the blue!” He would later recall that he felt his hair was standing on end: “There was immensely powerful energy and spirit in the room at that time.”
Then, with tears in his eyes, he said the words of Shema, clearly and confidently affirming his Jewish identity.
“David,” said Julia with wonder in her voice, “you said you wanted something to take with you to the world to come—and here you have it.”
From left: Rabbi Levertov, David and Rabbi Treitel immediately following the impromptu bar mitzvah they celebrated together in Big Lake, Alaska.
The Goal? To Celebrate the Holidays
Knowing that they would soon be leaving Alaska, Levertov and Treitel connected the couple with Rabbi Mendel Greenberg, who co-directs the Mat-Su Jewish Center-Chabad Lubavitch in nearby Wasilla with his wife, Chaya.
Despite his deteriorating health and inability to eat, David asked Julia to help him attend Shabbat dinner at the Greenberg home. Speaking before a crowd of several dozen people, he shared the events that had led to the newfound discovery of his Jewish identity and internal peace. “It’s amazing to consider that out of all the millions of homes in Alaska, they chose to knock on my door at the time I needed it most. As things got worse, I had asked G‑d to send me a sign—and there they were.”
Over the course of the next few weeks, he shared another Shabbat meal with the Greenbergs and put on tefillin with the rabbi, an act that he called his “spiritual gas station.”
During the course of one of their visits (which often resulted in deeply emotional conversations), the discussion turned to the afterlife. In response to his questions, the rabbi told David how important it was for the soul that the body be buried, and not cremated.
“No problem,” said David, who was then planning to fly to Tacoma, Wash., to spend his last few weeks with his daughter. “I’ll call my daughter right now to make sure that we can make arrangements for a Jewish burial in Washington.”
As his condition had deteriorated, he had spoken with family members about how he wished to live long enough to vote in the presidential election. However, his focus had now shifted. “All I want to do is be able to celebrate the High Holidays as a Jew, being at one with G‑d,” he said.
He got his wish.
Rabbi Greenberg called his colleague Rabbi Zalman Heber, who leads Chabad of Pierce County in Tacoma, and filled him in on the situation.
Over the next few weeks, Rabbi Heber worked closely with the family to change from the planned cremation to a proper Jewish funeral.
Surrounded by new friends at Chabad of Pierce County, David was called to the Torah on Rosh Hashanah. It was the first time that he publically celebrated his place in the Jewish community. As the crowd broke out into joyous song, he cried and danced all at once. He also proudly held a Torah scroll during the blowing of the shofar.
Rabbi Mendel Greenberg, co-director of the Mat-Su Jewish Center–Chabad Lubavitch in nearby Wasilla, met with David as often as possible to chat and put on tefillin.
With his waning strength, he returned to the synagogue for Yom Kippur, the day he so hoped to be able to celebrate for once in his life. At the conclusion of the fast, he danced arm in arm with his fellow worshippers, weeping with emotion.
“He was a very special man,” reflected Rabbi Heber, who visited David almost daily to help him pray in tefillin, a mitzvah he cherished. “He really appreciated his return to Judaism and what it meant for his soul. He soaked it all up and mastered much of Jewish thought in a matter of weeks.”
It was at his bedside that David’s brother also put on tefillin for the first time in his life.
By the time Sukkot arrived, he was no longer able to make it out, though gratefully grasped the lulav and etrog and said the blessings with fervor.
As Rabbi Heber discussed funeral plans with David, he gently asked what message he would like him to share at his funeral. “Tell them,” said David sitting up and looking into the rabbi’s eyes, “that it is never too late to embrace your Judaism and be proud of it.” He had difficulty speaking but managed to say forcefully: “As long as I am alive, I want to be a source for G‑dly light in the world. Tell my story to anyone who wants to hear it, and this will cause me to live on after my death.”
Before the rabbi left, he helped David recite the Shema and Viduyconfession, traditionally said at the end of a Jew’s life.
He passed away the following day, less than a week after Simchat Torah, having lived to experience the holiday season as a Jew among Jews and was interred in a Jewish cemetery in Seattle.
David and Rabbi Shneur Zalman Heber of Chabad of Pierce County in Tacoma, Wash., second from right, are flanked by old friends.
BY MENACHEM POSNER© Copyright, all rights reserved. If you enjoyed this article, we encourage you to distribute it further, provided that you comply with Chabad.org's copyright policy.
Wisconsin Teen Who ‘Could Barely Walk’ Preps for Miami Marathon
Helped for years by Friendship Circle, the 16-year old is now raising funds for others.
By Liza Wiemer
Three years ago, Nathan Bojan was diagnosed with a condition called Tarsal Coalition, which made walking sheer agony; he’s been undergoing surgeries ever since. Recovering slowly, he is preparing to walk a half-marathon in January to raise money for Milwaukee’s Friendship Circle, which has been a steadfast support system for the 16-year-old and his family.
Imagine being 13 years old, in eighth grade, and every step you took brought intense pain. That was Nathan Bojan’s life.
A trip to an orthopedist and the Bojans had an answer: Nathan had a condition called Tarsal Coalition—the abnormal connection of two bones in the foot. Where people normally have tissue between bone, Nathan had none. Each step was agony.
Soon after the diagnosis, Nathan had his first surgery, but it did not resolve the problem. Over the course of the next few years, he underwent a total of six operations, each with varying recovery schedules, all of which involved getting around on a scooter, hours of physical therapy and plenty of time off his feet.
After a trip to Israel this past summer, he developed a blood blister on his right ankle that turned into cellulitis and a strep infection where a screw had been surgically implanted—an infection so serious that it could have killed him. Fortunately, he fully recovered, though he spent his birthday in August in the hospital.
Throughout Nathan’s ordeal, Friendship Circle of Wisconsin—a division of Lubavitchof Wisconsin—served as a staunch support system. Volunteers visited the hospital, bringing food and reading material, and helped with whatever needs the family required. For their part, the Bojans—including Nathan’s father, Steve; his mother, Shawn; and his sister, Leigh—say they are tremendously grateful for the love and attention showered upon them.
And now Nathan, 16, wants to give back.
In January, he and his mother will travel to Florida to participate in a half-marathon—that’s 13.1 miles—to raise money for Milwaukee’s Friendship Circle. It’s particularly meaningful since walking has been one of the most difficult challenges Nathan has faced in his young years. He will walk, however, slowly, with his mom by his side.
“Raising money for Friendship Circle is extremely important to me,” he says. “I want to see our Milwaukee group grow. It needs to reach every person who could benefit from it. I want to be a part of that.”
This desire to pay it forward did not start with Nathan’s medical tribulations. When he was in fourth grade, Nathan was assigned as the Friendship Circle “buddy” of two high school seniors, Jack and Jacob, so he could improve certain social and physical skills. They visited with him every Sunday, taught him to play basketball, took him bowling and just hung out with him. It was the day of the week Nathan looked forward to the most. As his mother recalls: “G‑d forbid, we had to cancel a Sunday with Jack and Jacob. Nathan would get very upset.”
‘Tight-Knit Bonds’
Prompted by the positive experience, Nathan wanted to do for others. In sixth grade, he joined the drum circle and a music program called “Chai Notes,” saying he liked to make other people smile. “Smiling is contagious,” says the teenager. “I always appreciate when someone walks up to me with a smile that lights up the room.”
“What I love about Friendship Circle,” continues Nathan, “is that it’s so much more than getting together with people with special needs. It’s providing a comfortable place to have all people interact together and develop tight-knit bonds.”
Rabbi Levi Stein, director of Friendship Circle of Wisconsin, says: “I find tremendous inspiration whenever teens take time out of their busy schedules to volunteer for an important cause. It’s action like Nathan’s that makes me so grateful to do this work.”
To pledge on behalf of Nathan Bojan, click here.
Wrapping tefillin in the hospital, where he has been in and out of for years.
BY LIZA WIEMER© Copyright, all rights reserved. If you enjoyed this article, we encourage you to distribute it further, provided that you comply with Chabad.org's copyright policy.
Next Generation of Bluegrass Rabbis Comes of Age in Kentucky
New learning center in Louisville marks three decades of building community.
By Lori Samlin Miller
The extended Litvin family has lived and worked in the state of Kentucky for more than 30 years. Here, they celebrate the marriage of Sheina Litvin to Rabbi Yanki Biggs; the couple is moving back to Louisville to serve the Jewish community there. (Photo: Elisheva Golani)
Much has changed in the last three decades for the Jewish community in Kentucky, as the Litvin family has spread their roots in a community they are proud to call home. Even after all this time, new developments are in the works. Take, for instance, a Jewish Learning Center that opens this week, which under its wide umbrella will offer adult-education classes throughout the year for working professionals, parents, retirees—for anyone who wants to further their Jewish knowledge.
Growth, intellectual and physical, has been the modus operandi for this large family. Like other Chabad-Lubavitch emissaries who have resided a long time in one place, the Litvins have made all they do about the local population and its needs. Indeed, it’s a thriving family business, with four sons and two daughters having chosen to follow their parents—Rabbi Avrohom and Goldie Litvin, co-directors of Chabad of Kentucky—in their work, which began back in 1985 when the Litvins arrived in Louisville, the largest city in the state.
The family is now ingrained in this city founded in 1778 by surveyor and soldier George Rogers Clark—making Louisville one of the oldest cities west of the Appalachian Mountains—and named after King Louis XVI of France. (By 1790, some 200 people lived there; today, the population of the Louisville metropolitan area has surpassed 1 million.) Eight of the nine Litvin children were born and raised there, and are now accompanied by two brothers-in-law and three sisters-in-law.
According to Rabbi Avrohom Litvin, “our family truly works together with the goal of reaching out to care for and love every Jew in the state of Kentucky.”
‘Drawn to Their Approach’
Twenty years ago, Larry Singer moved from New York to Louisville—with its humid climate and bouts of severe weather, along with a penchant for sports and outdoor activities—where his wife Adele was living at the time. Although he had attended daily minyan and Shabbat services before relocating to Kentucky, upon meeting the Litvins, he says he was “drawn to their approach, to the Torah Judaism they teach.”
The new Jewish Learning Center, or JLC, will offer classes for all ages with a stress on evening adult education. Rabbi Avrohom Litvin, left, regional head Chabad-Lubavitch emissary and co-director of Chabad of Kentucky, accepts a certificate from the mayor’s office on the center’s opening.
The “JLearn” program will tackle subjects such as Hebrew reading, Pirke Avot (“Ethics of the Fathers”), Rambam, Chassidic philosophy, Jewish femininity and more. Specialized classes for seniors and teens are also in the works.
“I find it informative and interesting, and I became very active in Chabad, as did my wife,” says Singer, now 65. “We both take part in learning opportunities, and one Sunday each month, we sponsor a morning program called ‘BLT: Bagels, Lox & Torah,’ which draws about 20 to 30 people. It’s great,” notes Singer. “We eat and we study. My wife also studies with Goldie every Shabbat afternoon, and I study with the various rabbis on Sundays and Thursday.”
The couple looks forward to the opening of the new Jewish Learning Center because it will offer the community a central location with a host of educational opportunities.
Classes started at the center in September, though the official opening takes place on Nov. 7. Starting Nov. 10, the newest adult-education initiatives begin. Members of the extended Litvin family will be on hand to teach for 60 minutes each on Thursday nights as part of a concept called “JLearn,” which will tackle subjects like Hebrew reading, Pirke Avot (“Ethics of the Fathers”), Rambam, Chassidic philosophy, Jewish femininity and more. Specialized classes for seniors and teens are also in the works.
JLC instructors toast a l’chaim to the new venture, from left: Rabbi Yanki Biggs, Rabbi Shloimie Litvin, Rabbi Shmully Litvin, Rabbi Avrohom Litvin, Rabbi Mendy Litvin, Rabbi Chaim Litvin and Rabbi Boruch Susman
A Warm and Welcoming Community
Goldie Litvin, who grew up as the daughter of Chabad emissaries in Pittsburgh, recalls that they moved to Louisville on Purim 32 years ago as emissaries of the Lubavitcher Rebbe—Rabbi Menachem M. Schneerson, of righteous memory—to increase Jewish awareness and foster Jewish identity in this pocket of the South (with their 15-month-old son Shmuel in tow). She says she had no idea what to expect of life there, although like other Americans was familiar with certain associations: Kentucky Fried Chicken; bourbon (nearly 95 percent of all bourbon whiskey comes from Kentucky); and a famous horserace, the Kentucky Derby.
More importantly, in terms of Yiddishkeit, “what we discovered was a historically rich Jewish community where Jewish affiliation was high but Jewish observance, which had existed there previously, was not then common,” she says.
The couple dove right in, sometimes misconstrued by the general population as being Amish, as opposed to Chassidic. Holiday programming such as a Model Matzah Bakery, a Shavuot learning program and children’s ice-cream social, and a sukkah mobile were instituted to increase Jewish pride and awareness, and to build Jewish unity. Next were programs for Jewish women and seniors. Then a Gan Israel Day camp was added. Each Jew and their individual needs were important to the Litvins, as they had been directed by the Rebbe. By the end of the first year, a Purim feast was arranged, which has become the largest annual community celebration throughout the city.
Goldie taught challah-baking classes, organized women’s programs and created innovative children’s educational options. One big issue was the lack of a Torah day school in such a metropolitan area—so the Litvins started one. First, they opened the Gan Torah Preschool, and as the need grew for further education, the Louisville Jewish Day School was established. In fact, their own grandchildren are among those attending both the preschool and the day school, where Goldie serves as principal. She wears a number of other hats as well, including overseeing the mikvah.
The Louisville Waterfront Park exhibits rolling hills, spacious lawns and walking paths on Louisville’s waterfront in the downtown area. (Photo: Wikimedia Commons)
For more than 30 years, Rabbi Avrohom Litvin has remained immersed in reaching out to help all Jews in Kentucky. One of his first efforts was to connect with Jews previously unserved. “I immediately got involved with the soldiers at Fort Knox, and with the high school and university students,” says the regional head shaliach. He adds that he was well-received by these constituents right away. “Louisville is a very relaxed, Midwestern type of town—a bluegrass community,” he says, which offers immediate homespun hospitality not unlike the kind of warmth and welcoming associated with Chabad centers.
With the blessing of the Rebbe, he led the Orthodox Congregation Anshei Sfard for more than 25 years, including bringing kosher availability to the city and refurbishing the mikvah to modern standards. The rabbi retired from that position to focus his ongoing efforts on reaching out to the unaffiliated, especially young adults and families with children in Louisville, and in neighboring communities and cities that continue to be served by Chabad to this day.
“My family is from up East, but my husband is a native of Louisville,” says Deborah Goldberg, 49. “We have 17-year-old triplets and a 16-year-old, and the Litvins offered us great Jewish programming. My husband and I attend their classes, and our children have participated in the various holiday programs and social activities while they grew up, and continue to enjoy them now, as teenagers. Along the way, we have all become good friends.”
That’s what happens in a small community, made even smaller when it comes to just its Jewish members, which in Louisville number around 8,500.
The Push to Keep Growing
Besides Shmuel (Shmully), who was born in New York, the eight other Litvin children are Kentucky natives. All but one currently reside there, even after studying at yeshivahs and seminaries away from home for a time. While this gives their parents great joy and much nachas, it is something that Rabbi Avrohom and Goldie Litvin never just assumed would happen. Chabad families settle in all parts of the world, where they are needed by Jewish communities, and for parents, it’s never a given that children remain nearby.
Young children enjoy a bubble show at the Chabad House.
The Litvin children on the left, circled, at Gan Torah Preschool in 1996; on the right are the current grandchildren who attend now.
“Our children, who could have gone to bigger cities with more diverse culture, find there are still areas here they can help grow and want to help make that happen,” notes Goldie Litvin.
Though he is the oldest sibling, Shmully just recently received his semichah(rabbinical ordination), having pursued a different professional career first. He has now joined his father, three of his brothers and his two brothers-in-law for a total of seven rabbis in one family in one community.
In addition to all of their regular activities, they are now focusing on the opening of the new JLC.
“This is a highly needed addition to the Louisville Jewish Community,” explains Rabbi Avrohom Litvin. “It will house the Louisville Jewish Day School, Gan Torah Preschool and JLearn. Soon, we will also be opening a local chapter of Friendship Circle to provide programming and support for children with special needs and their families. We’ll have seven rabbinic couples available for classes and a variety of learning opportunities.”
Covering Communal Needs
Rabbi Shmully organizes the adult-education program with a focus on reaching out to the young-adult community within the greater Louisville area. Among other things, his wife, Duby, is known for her expertise in baking—a much-needed function since there is no kosher bakery in Louisville. Many people’s first taste of challah or traditional Jewish baked goods is the result of “Duby’s Bakery,” which currently operates out of her home, though she is currently looking for a storefront.
Rabbi Chaim oversees the daily schedule for Chabad of Kentucky. He is responsible for all holiday programming, such as upcoming Chanukahactivities at locations across the state. He has already arranged for the mayor to help light a giant menorah at the Fourth Street Live entertainment complex in downtown Louisville and a family skating Chanukah event on the first day of the holiday. His wife, Fraidy, will be leading classes for women at the new Jewish Learning Center.
Rabbi Boruch and Chaya Susman, and their children (Photo: Elisheva Golani)
Rabbi Boruch Susman directs programing at the Louisville Chabad House, where he arranges TGIS (“Thank G‑d It’s Shabbat!”) dinners, BLT (“Bagel, Lox & Torah”) classes and family fun days. His wife, Chaya (nee Litvin), holds a Chumash class for women, which rotates among different homes; teaches at the day school; and runs the Gan Israel summer day camp. She also hosts a themed Shabbat dinner once a month, where the food and decorations highlight a different country.
Rabbi Shlomo (Shlomie) and Shoshi Litvin run the Rohr Chabad on Campus at University of Kentucky (Chabad of the Bluegrass) in Lexington. In their first year of operation, they have already outgrown the original Chabad House and have recently moved to a larger one directly adjacent to the campus center.
Chanie Namdar (nee Litvin) lives with her husband, Benny, in Jerusalem, where they are active with Chabad there.
Sheina Biggs (nee Litvin) and her husband, Rabbi Yanki Biggs, are currently moving back to Louisville, where she will teach in the school, and take a leadership role in the development and implementation of Friendship Circle. One point of business the rabbi will be working on is ensuring and enhancing the kosher status of Kentucky bourbons so that more people will be able to enjoy the highest-quality bourbons with the highest level of kosher observance.
Rabbi Mendy Litvin provides support to his siblings by heading the “Shofar for Shut-Ins” program, helping to build sukkahs and providing kosher supervision. He is also active with teens in Louisville.
And Rivky, 12, and Kehos, 9, assist their parents and siblings in their various activities.
If this family had a theme, it would be this: Many hands do much work.
Rabbi Shloime and Shoshi Litvin, and their baby daughter (Photo: Elisheva Golani)
Rabbi Avrohom and Goldie Litvin, co-directors of Chabad of Kentucky (Photo: Elisheva Golani)
Purim 2000
Purim at the Stadium, 2010
BY LORI SAMLIN MILLER© Copyright, all rights reserved. If you enjoyed this article, we encourage you to distribute it further, provided that you comply with Chabad.org's copyright policy.
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