Podcasts about Midrash

Living Emunah 2951 The Place Meant for You The Gemara tells us that when it came time to choose the seventy elders who would assist Moshe Rabbeinu, six men were selected from each shevet, making a total of seventy-two candidates. A lottery was then held to determine which seventy would be chosen. Seventy slips of paper had the word "Zaken" written on them, while two slips were left blank. Whoever drew a blank slip would not be selected. The Gemara says that Moshe told the two men who drew the blank slips, "HaMakom lo chafetz becha." This is usually translated to mean, "Hashem did not want you." That is difficult to understand. It was painful enough that these two individuals were publicly excluded while everyone else was chosen. Why would they also need to hear that Hashem did not want them? Furthermore, according to some opinions, those two men were Eldad and Medad. Yet immediately afterward, the Torah tells us that they received prophecy. If Hashem did not want them, how could they have merited prophecy? Rabbi Menashe Reizman brings from the Sifrei Kabbalah that the word Makom is one of Hashem's holy Names. It has the same numerical value as the Name of Hashem represented by Yud-Keh-Vav-Keh when each letter is multiplied by itself. This teaches that in every makom—in every place in the world—the Shechinah is present with all of Hashem's mercy. Every person has a unique place from which he is meant to serve Hashem and connect to Him. Hashem already determined where a person would be born, into which family he would be born, how he would look, how intelligent he would be, how strong he would be, and every other detail of his life. Everything was arranged specifically for him to fulfill his mission. Moshe was not telling these men that Hashem did not want them. Hashem wants every one of His children. Rather, he was telling them, "This makom is not where you are meant to be. This is not the place through which you will achieve your greatness and connect to Hashem." When a person desperately wants something and does not receive it, it can be very painful. When the rejection is public, it can even be humiliating. Yet a person can become extraordinarily great when he accepts with love that Hashem's plan for him is different. The sefer Meshivat Nefesh, written by Rabbi Yochanan Luria, the uncle of the Maharshal, explains that when Eldad and Medad realized they had not been chosen, they accepted it with love. Hashem was so pleased with their reaction that He immediately granted them prophecy—prophecy that surpassed that of the other seventy elders. The Midrash tells us that Eldad and Medad received more than the seventy elders in five different ways. When a person rises above disappointment and trusts that Hashem is doing what is best for him and for his purpose in this world, despite how difficult that may be, he elevates himself to remarkable heights. Hashem was similarly proud of the Jewish people when they followed Him into the desert after Yetziat Mitzrayim, not knowing how they would survive. The pasuk says: זָ כַרְתִּי לָךְ חֶסֶד נְעוּרַיִךְ אַהֲבַת כְּלוּלֹתָיִךְ לֶכְתֵּךְ אַחֲרַי בַּמִּדְבָּר בְּאֶרֶץ לֹא זְרוּעָה "I remember for you the kindness of your youth, the love of your bridal days, when you followed Me into the wilderness, into a land that was not sown. ." The Ramban explains that this praise was not limited to the moment they entered the desert. It referred to the entire forty years that they followed the Cloud of Glory wherever Hashem directed them. Sometimes they remained in places they did not want to be for extended periods of time, yet they accepted it. At other times they were settled comfortably in places they liked, only to have the cloud suddenly rise and signal that it was time to move. Once again, they followed with trust. That unwavering acceptance is what made Hashem so proud of them. The same opportunity exists for every one of us. Sometimes Hashem places us in situations that are embarrassing. Sometimes they are painful. Sometimes they seem unfair. But the harder it is to accept, the more precious that acceptance becomes. Eldad and Medad could have become depressed. They could have felt humiliated. No one would have blamed them. But they were not interested in mediocrity. They wanted greatness. By accepting Hashem's decision with happiness, they achieved it. A prophet can only receive prophecy when he is in a state of joy. The very fact that Eldad and Medad received prophecy demonstrated that they remained happy despite their rejection. Every person has a different place that Hashem wants him to be in. That place is not an accident. It is the exact place from which he can best fulfill his mission and connect to Hashem. When we learn to be happy with the places Hashem chooses for us, we too can rise to the greatest heights.

Rabbi Shulman continues learning the Maharal on Hallel, focusing on the “מן המצר” section and how Midrash reads “סבוני” as referring to Gog U'Magog—the archetypal head of the nations opposing Malchut Shamayim as expressed through Israel. He outlines a Midrash describing three escalating attempts by Gog U'Magog to attack Yerushalayim, then pivots to a Zohar-based reading of “דחה דחיתני לנפל” as spoken directly to the yetzer hara. Finally, Rabbi Shulman begins unpacking the Maharal's careful reading of “עָזִּי וְזִמְרָת יָהּ וַיְהִי לִי לִישׁוּעָה,” emphasizing that the “yeshuah” is attributed to Hashem Himself, not to “strength and song.” Outline: https://danielggordon.github.io/ateresami/gvuros-hashem-64m-20260608-031337-outline-20260608-031412.pdf

Source sheet: https://ikar.org/wp-content/uploads/2026/05/Midrash-Class-1.pdf In the gaps, the ambiguities, the contradictions, and the mysteries of Torah, Midrash is born. Like a flower emerging from the crack in the sidewalk, a new image captures our attention, transforming the entire landscape. In this three-part series, we'll investigate the project of Midrash– where these new stories come from and how they shape our understanding of both the Torah and its interpreters.

Welcome to Daily Bitachon in our Shaar Habechina series. We are now about to start our final chapter of Shaar Habechina —the gate of contemplation of God's ways—chapter six. Chapter six opens up with the words: אך מפסידי הבחינה והדברים התלויים בה — What are the things that are going to ruin or make you lose this quality of contemplation? This is fascinating. The rabbis of old knew a fundamental rule: you can work incredibly hard to acquire something, but you can lose it just as easily. The source for this concept is actually a pasuk in the Torah that we say almost every day. We recite Kriyas Shma every single day, and in the second parasha , we end with the words: למען ירבו ימיכם וימי בניכם על האדמה אשר נשבע ה' לאבותיכם לתת להם כימי השמים על הארץ (דברים יא:כא) Now, the very next pasuk —which we don't read as part of Kriyas Shma , since the three parshiyos are compiled from different places in the Torah—says in Pasuk Chaf-Bet : כי אם שמור תשמרון את כל המצוה הזאת . You have to especially guard this mitzvah, or actually, these mitzvos that I command you. The Midrash is bothered by this. The beginning of the parasha already said vehaya shamor tishmerun —"you will listen." So if we already listened, what does the end mean by saying we must "guard"? Normally, we associate guarding with prohibitions, like Shemiras Shabbos (refraining from doing wrong). So why add this extra shamor tishmerun ? The Yalkut Shimoni explains that just as a person must be careful with their money so they don't lose it, so too a person must be careful with their Torah and their avodah (service of Hashem) so they don't lose it. You have to search for it, as the pasuk says: im tevakshena kakesef —search for religion and yiras shamayim like you would for money. Just like it is hard to acquire wealth, it is hard to acquire Torah. Now, you might think, "Well, if that's the case, silver doesn't destroy easily. You put it in a silver chest and it lasts. Isn't Torah the same way?" No. The pasuk says: לא יערכנה זהב וזכוכית —it cannot be compared to gold and expensive glass. Torah is compared to both gold and glass. Why glass? Because just as glass is easily broken, you can easily lose your divrei Torah and your hard work. It is as difficult to acquire as gold, but as easy to lose as glass. Glass breaks. I don't know if you have this problem, but stemware breaks. The silver cup I received from my wife when we got engaged over 40 years ago is still standing tall. None of the glassware we got when we married is still standing. We have spent six months—over a hundred classes, actually—on Shaar Habechina . This is class 102. You might say, "Okay, I'm good. I spent six months, a lesson a day, and I finished Shaar Habechina . I'm ready to move on." No, you cannot move on until you know what can cause you to lose it. This is a very important rule that many people don't know. How do I know they don't know it? Because the Chovos HaLevavos tells us so in Shaar Avodas Elokim (The Gate of Service of God). There, he lists nine levels of people on a scale of zero to ten. Level nine consists of people who have intentions lishma —meaning they are doing things for the absolute right reasons. Why, then, did they not reach total greatness? שלא נשמרו ממפסידי העבודות They were not careful to stay away from the things that ruin your avodat Hashem . Decay entered, and they didn't realize what was happening. They forgot to add the preservatives, and therefore the food rotted. He compares this to a pasuk in Kohelet (10:1): זבובי מות יבאיש יביע שמן רוקח יקר מחכמה מכבוד סכלות מעט "Dead flies make the perfumer's ointment smell and ferment; so too, a little folly or silliness outweighs wisdom and honor." Just as a beautiful jar of perfume can be ruined by a single fly, a little bit of silliness or carelessness can ruin your avodat Hashem . He quotes one of the pious men who told his students: "Even though you have purified yourselves from sins, I am still afraid of the greatest sin of all, the one that causes total ruination." And what is that? Gavhut and ga'avah —arrogance and haughtiness. As the pasuk in Mishlei (16:5) tells us: To'avat Hashem kol gva lev —"An abomination to God is everyone who is arrogant." If you do everything right, but arrogance enters, it can ruin it all. The Sefer Ne'ot Desha on Chumash (by the author of the Avnei Nezer ) discusses Pharaoh's dreams in Parashat Mikeitz , where the small, thin cows swallowed up the fat cows. Of course, the simple message is that the years of famine would swallow up the years of plenty. But he brings down that it also refers to the trait of arrogance. Arrogance can completely swallow up your spiritual plenty. You might have worked, learned, become a great teacher, a great orator, and authored books—wow, that is a lot of fat cows! But then the trait of arrogance comes in, and the very things that made you great can bring you down. You have to be careful of that. You need to know the great qualities, but you also need to know what can cause their ruination. And that is exactly what we are going to do, be'ezrat Hashem , this week. Thank you, and sorry for going over time.

Source sheet: https://ikar.org/wp-content/uploads/2026/05/Midrash-Class-1.pdf In the gaps, the ambiguities, the contradictions, and the mysteries of Torah, Midrash is born. Like a flower emerging from the crack in the sidewalk, a new image captures our attention, transforming the entire landscape. In this three-part series, we'll investigate the project of Midrash– where these new stories come from and how they shape our understanding of both the Torah and its interpreters.

We look at Genesis Raba 98 and Sota 10 to see what the sages say about Samson

The Shulhan Aruch (Orah Haim 1:5) writes that it is commendable to recite each morning the sections in the Torah – in the beginning of Sefer Vayikra – that speak of each of the Korbanot. People who follow this custom recite the sections discussing the Ola, the Minha, the Shelamim, the Hatat and the Asham. This custom is based on the notion developed by the Midrash that by reciting the verses that speak of a certain Korban, we are considered as having offered that Korban, and this is how we can attain atonement even without a Bet Ha'mikdash. Nevertheless, our custom is not to recite these sections in the Torah. It has been explained that we do not follow this practice because we instead recite the Mishnayot of Ezehu Mekoman – the fifth chapter of Masechet Zevahim – which briefly goes through the procedure for each kind of sacrifice. As discussed in previous installments, we do recite the section in the Torah discussing the Tamid – the daily sacrifice which was offered each morning and afternoon in the Bet Ha'mikdash. We do not, however, recite the sections in the Torah dealing with the other sacrifices. The Shulhan Aruch writes that after reciting the section from Torah of each of the sacrifices, one should recite a prayer asking G-d to regard his recitation as the actual offering of that sacrifice. Those who recite these sections add the prayer after the voluntary sacrifices – the Ola, Minha and Shelamim – but not after the Hatat (sin-offering), which cannot be brought voluntarily. The Hatat is offered only in very specific circumstances where atonement through the offering of this sacrifice is required, and it cannot be offered voluntarily. The Shulhan Aruch explains that those who follow this custom read the section of Hatat in case they have committed an act requiring this sacrifice, but they should not add the prayer asking that it be considered as the actual offering of the sacrifice, since they do not know for certain that they are required to bring this sacrifice. As for the Asham (guilt-offering), the Shulhan Aruch brings two opinions. Some maintain that since the Asham – like the Hatat – is brought only in very specific circumstances, the prayer should be omitted, except after the recitation of the Asham Talui – the Asham brought in situations where one is unsure whether he committed an offense requiring a Hatat. This sacrifice may be brought even if there is a remote possibility that it is required, and so it is valid to ask Hashem to accept the recitation of this section as though the sacrifice was actually offered. Others maintain that this prayer may be recited even after the section discussing other Asham sacrifices. The Shulhan Aruch writes that the first opinion seems more correct. The Hida (Rav Haim Yosef David Azulai, 1724-1806) writes that if one wishes to observe this practice, he should recite these sections of the Torah after the Amida prayer. He explains that the recitation of the Amida functions as the offering of the daily Tamid sacrifice, and no sacrifice may be offered before the offering of the morning Tamid. Therefore, one must not recite these sections – which are recited in lieu of the offering of the sacrifices – before he recites the Amida. This opinion appears to contradict the justification mentioned above for our custom to not recite the sections in the Torah – that we instead recite the Mishnayot of Ezehu Mekoman. According to the Hida, it would seem, we are not permitted to recite Ezehu Mekoman before the Amida as a substitute for the actual offering of the sacrifices. It stands to reason that since, as mentioned, we recite the section of the Tamid before Ezehu Mekoman, the reading of the Tamid is considered as our offering of the Tamid sacrifice, well before the recitation of the Amida. We are thus justified in then reciting Ezehu Mekoman, which counts as the offering of the other sacrifices. Although we do not follow this custom brought by the Shulhan Aruch, nevertheless, this discussion is important as it underscores for us the significance of the Korbanot section. As we have seen, the Poskim took this recitation very seriously, viewing it as being actually considered as though the sacrifices have been offered. By reciting the Korbanot each morning, we truly have the opportunity to access the power of the sacrifices even though we do not yet have the Bet Ha'mikdash.

Each morning, before the Korbanot section, we recite a prayer ("Ribon Ha'olamim") in which we acknowledge our lowliness, recognizing that we are unworthy of G-d's kindness, and that even the most powerful are weak in relation to G-d and even the wisest are ignorant in relation to G-d. In this prayer, we humbly confess, "Ki Chol Ma'asenu Tohu" – "for all our actions are worthless." The obvious question arises as to how we can make such a pronouncement. After all, while we must all acknowledge that we are far from perfect, is it true that "all our actions are worthless"? We spend time praying, learning Torah, and performing acts of kindness for others, we give charity, and we do numerous worthwhile things throughout the day, every day. We of course all have much room for improvement, and, unfortunately, we are all guilty of wasting time on vanity, but it certainly seems exaggerated to claim that nothing we do has any value. Due to this question, there were some Poskim who changed the text of the phrase – replacing the word "Kol" ("all") with the word "Rob" ("most"). With this emendation, the text acknowledges that most of our actions are valueless, as we pursue vanity, but not that we never involve ourselves in meaningful activities such as prayer, Misvot and Torah study. However, the word "Kol" appears in all the texts that we have from earlier generations – including the text of the Rambam, Rav Amram Gaon, the Tur, and the Abudarham. Therefore, it seems very difficult to emend the text and change "Kol" to "Rob." The explanation, as Rav Yisrael Bitan discusses, likely stems from a comment of the Midrash (Vayikra Rabba 28:1) interpreting the verse in Kohelet (1:3), "Ma Yitron La'adam Be'chol Amalo" – "What does a person gain from all his toil?" The Midrash notes that certainly, there is much gained from a person's toil in Torah study, but Kohelet speaks of "Amalo" – a person's own "toil," meaning, that which he does for himself, for his own enjoyment and satisfaction. The "toil" that a person engages in for G-d, so-to-speak – his efforts in Torah and Misvot – are certainly precious and immensely valuable. It is only "Amalo" – his self-serving pursuits – that offer him no benefit. Likewise, we may explain the phrase "Ki Chol Ma'asenu Tohu" to mean that "Ma'asenu" – everything we do for ourselves, and not for the service of Hashem – has no value or significance. Therefore, we should not change the text to "Rob," and should instead maintain the text found in earlier sources – "Ki Chol Ma'asenu Tohu."

In the gaps, the ambiguities, the contradictions, and the mysteries of Torah, Midrash is born. Like a flower emerging from the crack in the sidewalk, a new image captures our attention, transforming the entire landscape. In this three-part series, we'll investigate the project of Midrash– where these new stories come from and how they shape our understanding of both the Torah and its interpreters.

The Korban Ha'tamid was the sacrifice that was offered each day in the Bet Ha'mikdash – one sheep was brought every morning, and a second sheep was brought every afternoon. This sacrifice was required each day, without exception, on weekdays, Shabbat, and all holidays, including Yom Kippur. The unique importance of this sacrifice can be seen in the story told by the Gemara in Masechet Menahot (64b) of the civil war that was waged during the Second Commonwealth, and one side besieged Jerusalem. The besieging army would send sheep over the wall into the city each day for the offering of the Tamid, until they were advised that as long the Tamid sacrifice was offered, they would not succeed in taking the city. The next day, they sent a pig instead of a sheep. The Gemara relates that as the pig was being lifted over the wall, the entire Land of Israel shook. Once the Tamid sacrifice was discontinued, disaster befell the nation. Due to the special importance of the Tamid, the Ben Ish Hai (Rav Yosef Haim of Baghdad, 1833-1909) writes in his work Rav Pe'alim that if a person arrives late in the synagogue, and does not have enough time to recite the entire Korbanot section (the section about the sacrifices), he should at least recite the verses of the Tamid (as well as the section of the Ketoret). We introduce the recitation of the Tamid with a special "Yehi Rason" prayer asking Hashem to forgive our sins and rebuild the Bet Ha'mikdash so we can again offer the daily Tamid sacrifice. This prayer appears in the Seder Ha'yom (by Rabbi Moshe Ben Machir, 16 th century). Although we generally omit on Shabbat prayers that include requests for forgiveness, we recite this prayer before the Tamid even on Shabbat. After reciting the Tamid section, we recite the section of the Ketoret followed by the paragraph of "Abayeh Hava Mesader" – Abayeh's outline of the entire daily procedure in the Bet Ha'mikdash. We then recite a concluding prayer – "Ribon Ha'olamim" – acknowledging that we are unable to offer sacrifices in the Bet Ha'mikdash because of our sins, and asking that our recitation of the Korbanot section should be accepted as though we actually offered the sacrifices. The Yafeh La'leb (Rav Rahamim Nissim Yitzchak Palachi, Turkey, 1814-1907) notes a passage in the Midrash stating that we will not require the offering of Korbanot in the future. He thus raises the question of why we ask Hashem for the opportunity to again offer sacrifices, if the sacrifices will not be brought in the times of the final redemption. In truth, this question was discussed already by his father, the Leb Haim (Rav Haim Palachi, 1787-1868), who concludes that all the Torah's Misvot – including the sacrifices – will remain binding for all time. The Midrash's comment about the sacrifices in the future needs to be understood, but it is clear that sacrifices will be brought in the times of the third Bet Ha'mikdash.

Why do we read the story of Ruth on Shavuot? Beneath the surface of this beautiful Megillah lies one of the most dramatic stories in all of Tanach, famine, exile, conversion, controversy, loss, courage, and the hidden birth of redemption.In this class, Rabbi Yisroel Bernath explores the deeper story behind Ruth, Naomi, and Boaz through Midrash, Talmud, Zohar, and Kabbalah. Together we'll uncover the shocking halachic debate surrounding Ruth's conversion, the spiritual meaning behind her loyalty, and the extraordinary chain of Divine Providence that ultimately gave birth to King David and Moshiach. This is a story about what happens when life appears to fall apart… only to reveal a deeper plan unfolding underneath it all.Key Points: • Why Elimelech abandoned the Jewish people during the famine and the consequences that followed • Ruth's radical choice to embrace Judaism despite uncertainty and rejection • The deeper meaning of “Where you go, I will go” according to the Talmud • Boaz, Ruth, and the hidden hand of Divine Providence • The controversial halachic debate: Could Ruth even marry into the Jewish people? • Why King David's lineage was questioned generations later • The spiritual lesson of apparent failure, loss, and hidden redemption • How the story of Ruth became the blueprint for MoshiachA Brand-New Four Part Kabbalah Series - Turning Walls into DoorwaysHow to Transform Life's Obstacles into the Path to Your Greatest GrowthWhy do we keep hitting the same emotional walls? Why do certain fears, insecurities, patterns, and painful circumstances keep showing up in our lives, despite our best efforts to change? Access HERE https://www.jewishndg.com/civicrm/event/info?reset=1&id=102 Available now:Paperback: https://www.amazon.com/Forgiveness-Experiment-What-Would-Your/dp/1069217638Kindle: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0FR2QNJL6Audiobook: https://bit.ly/4tPFZhVSupport the showGot your own question for Rabbi Bernath? He can be reached at rabbi@jewishndg.com or http://www.theloverabbi.comSingle? You can make a profile on www.JMontreal.com and Rabbi Bernath will help you find that special someone.Donate and support Rabbi Bernath's work http://www.jewishndg.com/donateFollow Rabbi Bernath's YouTube Channel https://www.youtube.com/user/ybernathAccess Rabbi Bernath's Articles on Relationships https://medium.com/@loverabbi

Ruth in Stereo: Mikra and Midrash, by Rav Yitzchak Etshalom After a brief introduction to the literature of Midrash and specifically Midrash Aggada, we analyze four passages in Megilat Ruth, first reading them in their literary context, then perusing several Midrashic comments on them. We analyze the comments with an eye towards the agenda of the Darshan - i.e. what lesson he is building from the text; that he is not trying to "rewrite the text", rather to build from the text with a vital message for his primary audience. Source sheet >>

Send us Fan MailWhy do we read the story of Ruth on Shavuot? Beneath the surface of this beautiful Megillah lies one of the most dramatic stories in all of Tanach, famine, exile, conversion, controversy, loss, courage, and the hidden birth of redemption.In this class, Rabbi Yisroel Bernath explores the deeper story behind Ruth, Naomi, and Boaz through Midrash, Talmud, Zohar, and Kabbalah. Together we'll uncover the shocking halachic debate surrounding Ruth's conversion, the spiritual meaning behind her loyalty, and the extraordinary chain of Divine Providence that ultimately gave birth to King David and Moshiach. This is a story about what happens when life appears to fall apart… only to reveal a deeper plan unfolding underneath it all.Key Points: • Why Elimelech abandoned the Jewish people during the famine and the consequences that followed • Ruth's radical choice to embrace Judaism despite uncertainty and rejection • The deeper meaning of “Where you go, I will go” according to the Talmud • Boaz, Ruth, and the hidden hand of Divine Providence • The controversial halachic debate: Could Ruth even marry into the Jewish people? • Why King David's lineage was questioned generations later • The spiritual lesson of apparent failure, loss, and hidden redemption • How the story of Ruth became the blueprint for MoshiachAvailable now:Paperback: https://www.amazon.com/Forgiveness-Experiment-What-Would-Your/dp/1069217638Kindle: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0FR2QNJL6Audiobook: https://bit.ly/4tPFZhVSupport the showGot your own question for Rabbi Bernath? He can be reached at rabbi@jewishndg.com or http://www.theloverabbi.comSingle? You can make a profile on www.JMontreal.com and Rabbi Bernath will help you find that special someone.Donate and support Rabbi Bernath's work http://www.jewishndg.com/donateFollow Rabbi Bernath's YouTube Channel https://www.youtube.com/user/ybernathAccess Rabbi Bernath's Articles on Relationships https://medium.com/@loverabbi

Source Sheets

The custom among Sepharadim is to recite immediately following the section of Akedat Yishak a verse from Parashat Vayikra (1:11): "Ve'shahat Oto Al Yerech Ha'mizbe'ah Safona Lifneh Hashem…" This verse describes the procedure for the offering of a sheep as an Ola sacrifice – such as the daily Tamid offering, which consisted of a sheep brought each morning and another sheep brought each afternoon. The connection between this verse and the story of Akedat Yishak is indicated by the Midrash which states that whenever this verse is read, Hashem remembers the great merit of the Akeda. A different passage in the Midrash, cited by the Bet Yosef, teaches that it was at the time of Akedat Yishak that G-d instituted the Misva of the daily Tamid that would later be observed in the Bet Ha'mikdash. The word "Safona" in this verse – which literally means "north," and requires slaughtering the sacrifice on the north side of the altar – alludes to the "ashes" of Yishak Abinu which are "hidden" and stored away as an eternal reminder of the merit of Akeidat Yishak. After this verse, we recite a special prayer – which is printed in standard editions of the Siddur – beseeching Hashem to remember the merit of Akedat Yishak and compassionately annul any harsh decrees that may have been issued against us. This custom is mentioned by the Hida (Rav Haim Yosef David Azulai, 1724-1806), in his work Kesher Godel. Interestingly, neither the verse "Ve'shahat Oto" nor this prayer appears in the Siddur of the Rashash (Rav Shalom Sharabi, Yemen-Jerusalem, 1720-1777). Nevertheless, the Ben Ish Hai (Rav Yosef Haim of Baghdad, 1833-1909) writes in his Od Yosef Hai that it was customary in the communities of Baghdad to recite these passages, and this is, indeed, our custom today. We recite the verse "Ve'shahat Oto" also a second time – just before the section of "Ezehu Mekoman," which is comprised of the Mishnayot from the fifth chapter of Masechet Zebahim, and goes through the procedure for the offering of the various kinds of sacrifices. The Shulhan Aruch rules somewhat ambiguously that this verse should be recited along with the Korbanot – the section which speaks of the sacrifices – without specifying at which point exactly it should be recited. Some Poskim understood that it should be recited before the Korbanot section, which is the custom we follow. Indeed, it would seem reasonable to recite first a verse from the Torah before reciting the Mishnayot discussing the sacrifices. (Incidentally, it should be noted that the practice of Maran, author of the Shulhan Aruch, was not to recite the Mishnayot of "Eizehu Mekoman," and to recite instead the verses from the Torah dealing with each kind of sacrifice.) By contrast, the Peri Megadim (Rav Yosef Teomim, 1727-1792), cited by the Mishna Berura, writes that after the Akeda, one should recite the verses of the Torah discussing the Tamid sacrifice, following by the verse "Ve'shahat Oto." The rationale for reciting it only after the Tamid is that the recitation of this verse is considered like the actual offering of a sacrifice, and no sacrifice may be offered in the morning before the Tamid was brought. Hence, according to the Peri Megadim, this verse cannot be recited until after the recitation of the Tamid. This is the practice of the Ashkenazim. Sepharadim, however, as mentioned, recite this verse immediately after Akedat Yishak, before reciting the section of the Tamid. The explanation might be that this verse is recited not in lieu of the offering of a sacrifice, but rather to supplement the recitation of Akedat Yishak, asking Hashem to remember the merit of that act of sacrifice. In any event, we recite this verse twice – immediately after Akedat Yishak, and just before the Mishnayot of "Eizehu Mekoman."

In this richly layered shiur on Megillat Ruth, Rabbi Dunner explores Ruth's journey from Moabite outsider to matriarch of the Davidic dynasty. Through Chazal, Midrash, Gemara, and modern scholarship, he reveals how the the themes of chesed, gerut, legitimacy, and personal redemption quietly shape the foundations of Jewish kingship, national destiny, and the ultimate vision of Messianic geulah.

The Midrash teaches that the five Humashim – the books that comprise the Torah – are alluded to in the opening verses of the Torah, which tell of the creation of light on the first day of the world's creation. The word "Or" (light) appears five times in these verses, and they parallel the five Humashim. It follows, then, that the fourth Humash – the Book of Bamidbar, which we begin reading this Shabbat – corresponds to the fourth instance of the word "Or" in these verses: "Va'yabdel Elokim Beh Ha'or U'ben Ha'hoshech" – "G-d separated between light and the darkness" (1:4). What might be the connection between the Book of Bamidbar and the "separation" between light and darkness? The Netziv (Rav Naftali Zvi Yehuda Berlin of Volozhin, 1816-1893) offers a fascinating answer, by explaining the primary theme of Sefer Bamidbar. This book, he writes, traces Beneh Yisrael's transition from a miraculous existence to a natural existence. The book begins at Mount Sinai, in the desert, where Beneh Yisrael relied on G-d's miracles in order to survive. They received the manna from the heavens, and water from a supernatural well that accompanied them as they traveled. The Ananeh Ha'kabod ("clouds of glory") protected them from the elements and from enemy attack. Beneh Yisrael journeyed for forty years in a region that was ordinarily uninhabitable, under Hashem's miraculous care and protection. At the end of Sefer Bamidbar, Beneh Yisrael find themselves on the border of the Land of Israel, nearly ready to cross into the land. There they would live a natural existence – fighting wars against enemies, growing crops, building cities, and developing an economy. Of course, this natural existence would require G-d's intervention; even when leading a natural lifestyle, nothing can succeed without Hashem's help. But once they crossed into the land, Beneh Yisrael were no longer cared for miraculously; they lived in accordance with the laws of nature. This is why at the end of the Book of Bamidbar, Beneh Yisrael take up arms and fight wars. They begin preparations for the battles to conquer the land, and for the division of the land. After living a miraculous existence for forty years, they now needed to transition to a natural mode of existence. The Netziv explains that this is why Sefer Bamidbar is associated with the "separation" between light and darkness. Light symbolizes G-d's open miracles, which make His control of the world unmistakably clear and evident. By contrast, darkness symbolizes the veil of the natural world, which conceals the Hand of Providence. When nature follows its course, we do not see Hashem, though we must firmly believe that He controls all events, random and natural as they might outwardly seem. Just as darkness makes it difficult to see that which we know exists, nature makes it difficult to see Hashem's control and governance, but we know that He is behind everything and orchestrating everything that happens. Hence, Sefer Bamidbar is associated with the distinction between light and darkness – because it signifies Beneh Yisrael's transition from a supernatural existence to a natural one. The Netziv explains on this basis why the Sages calls Sefer Bamidbar "Humash Ha'pekduim" – the "Book of Countings," which later evolved into the name, "Numbers." This name refers to two censuses of Beneh Yisrael that were taken in Sefer Bamidbar. We might wonder, why are these events viewed as the primary theme and essence of this book? So much happens in the Book of Bamidbar – why would the Sages focus on the two occasions when the people were counted when choosing a name for this book? The answer, the Netziv writes, is that the two censuses signify the transition that Beneh Yisrael underwent over the course of this Sefer. The first census was conducted for the purpose of arranging Beneh Yisrael's camp around the Mishkan in the desert, whereas the second was conducted to prepare for the apportioning of the territory of Eretz Yisrael among the tribes. The difference between these two censuses reflects the difference between the "light" and the "darkness," between the miraculous existence in the desert, and the natural existence in Eretz Yisrael. Therefore, this Sefer is indeed "Humash Ha'pekudim," a book of "countings," because the two countings demonstrate the transition that constitutes the essence of this book, the transition from the miracles of the desert to life in Eretz Yisrael, where G-d cares for and protects us not overly, but behind the veil of the laws of nature.

The One Thing I Can't Teach You BAMIDBAR | STUMP THE RABBI (270)https://youtu.be/0I6FRk_RQOYOver the past decade, we've learned and taught a lot of Torah Baruch HaShem. Yet there is one thing that I can't teach you. We've learned Mussar, Halacha, Chassidut, Chumash, Midrash, Kedusha and yet I can't teach this one thing. The biggest Rabbi's in the world taught more, yet they can't teach this to you either. No one can truly teach this to you. It's either you have it because you want it, or you don't. Parashat Bamidbar mentions some names of the leaders. They all thought they had it, but only a few truly did. Today we'll learn what it is, but not how to do it. You're on your own for that part. This will be followed by the questions and answers by live online audience. Enjoy.

The One Thing I Can't Teach You BAMIDBAR | STUMP THE RABBI (270)https://youtu.be/0I6FRk_RQOYOver the past decade, we've learned and taught a lot of Torah Baruch HaShem. Yet there is one thing that I can't teach you. We've learned Mussar, Halacha, Chassidut, Chumash, Midrash, Kedusha and yet I can't teach this one thing. The biggest Rabbi's in the world taught more, yet they can't teach this to you either. No one can truly teach this to you. It's either you have it because you want it, or you don't. Parashat Bamidbar mentions some names of the leaders. They all thought they had it, but only a few truly did. Today we'll learn what it is, but not how to do it. You're on your own for that part. This will be followed by the questions and answers by live online audience. Enjoy.

The early rabbinic period produced two major literary formations—the Mishnah and Midrash—which have since remained central pillars of Jewish textual tradition. How to Read the Mishnah and Midrash: An Introduction to Early Rabbinic Literature (U California Press, 2026) is the first comprehensive introduction to these two foundational works of Jewish thought in English. In many ways, all subsequent rabbinic literature emerged from the framework established by these two genres. The Mishnah presented a comprehensive legal system independent of the Bible, encompassing a remarkably broad spectrum of legal topics—from ritual law to civil disputes, capital legislation, marital status, and beyond—woven into a coherent and autonomous legal corpus. The Midrash is the first comprehensive running commentary of the Pentateuch, marked by its interpretive freedom and creative playfulness. This hands-on companion provides an intimate understanding of how the two texts function and essential tools for engaging with them in depth. With translations, close readings, and analyses of hundreds of primary source materials, this book offers readers a deeper appreciation of the structure, methodology, and enduring impact of the Mishnah and Midrash. New Books in Late Antiquity is presented by Ancient Jew Review Ishay Rosen-Zvi teaches rabbinic literature at the Department of Jewish philosophy and Talmud at Tal-Aviv University. His previous books include: Goy: Israel's Multiple Others and the Birth of the Gentile, written with Adi Ophir; The Mishnaic Sotah Ritual; and Demonic Desires: “Yetzer Hara and the Problem of Evil in Late Antiquity.” Michael Motia teaches Classics and Religious Studies at UMass Boston Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices Support our show by becoming a premium member! https://newbooksnetwork.supportingcast.fm/new-books-network

The early rabbinic period produced two major literary formations—the Mishnah and Midrash—which have since remained central pillars of Jewish textual tradition. How to Read the Mishnah and Midrash: An Introduction to Early Rabbinic Literature (U California Press, 2026) is the first comprehensive introduction to these two foundational works of Jewish thought in English. In many ways, all subsequent rabbinic literature emerged from the framework established by these two genres. The Mishnah presented a comprehensive legal system independent of the Bible, encompassing a remarkably broad spectrum of legal topics—from ritual law to civil disputes, capital legislation, marital status, and beyond—woven into a coherent and autonomous legal corpus. The Midrash is the first comprehensive running commentary of the Pentateuch, marked by its interpretive freedom and creative playfulness. This hands-on companion provides an intimate understanding of how the two texts function and essential tools for engaging with them in depth. With translations, close readings, and analyses of hundreds of primary source materials, this book offers readers a deeper appreciation of the structure, methodology, and enduring impact of the Mishnah and Midrash. New Books in Late Antiquity is presented by Ancient Jew Review Ishay Rosen-Zvi teaches rabbinic literature at the Department of Jewish philosophy and Talmud at Tal-Aviv University. His previous books include: Goy: Israel's Multiple Others and the Birth of the Gentile, written with Adi Ophir; The Mishnaic Sotah Ritual; and Demonic Desires: “Yetzer Hara and the Problem of Evil in Late Antiquity.” Michael Motia teaches Classics and Religious Studies at UMass Boston Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices Support our show by becoming a premium member! https://newbooksnetwork.supportingcast.fm/jewish-studies

Does Matthew twist Hosea to invent a prophecy about Jesus? You will learn why Matthew quotes only part of Hosea 11:1, how first-century Jews used Scripture by allusion, and how Israel as God's son creates a typological pattern fulfilled by the Messiah as the greater Son. Through parallels with David, Moses, the wilderness, and a striking Midrash on Isaiah 52:13, you discover how to read Matthew the way his original Jewish audience would have. ~~~FRONTL|NE Newsletter: https://thelineoffire.org/newsletterDonate: https://thelineoffire.org/donate-one-timeX: https://twitter.com/DrMichaelLBrownYouTube: https://www.youtube.com/@LFTVInstagram: https://www.instagram.com/drmichaelbrownFacebook: https://www.facebook.com/ASKDrBrownWebsite: https://thelineoffire.orgRadio Broadcast from The Line of Fire Hosted by Simplecast, an AdsWizz company. See pcm.adswizz.com for information about our collection and use of personal data for advertising.

The Mahari"l writes that when a person prays at the kever of a tzadik, since it is a place of holiness and spiritual purity, the tefillot there are more readily accepted. The Mateh Ephraim adds that even a Kohen, who is not permitted to approach the kever, can still connect to that holiness by standing at a distance from where he can see it and pray from there. Tefillah is always powerful, but there are times and places where it has an added strength. The day of the yahrzeit of a tzadik at his kever is especially מסוגל for tefillah. The Midrash says in Parashat Vezot HaBerachah that if we had known the burial place of Moshe Rabbeinu, we would have prevented the destruction of the first Bet HaMikdash through our tefillot there. The Ben Ish Chai explains that when a person goes to a kever of a tzadik, there are two proper ways to pray. He can ask Hashem to help him in the merit of the tzadik, or he can ask that the neshama of the tzadik should pray to Hashem on his behalf. But the tefillah is always directed only to Hashem, because He alone has the power to fulfill our requests. The tzadik is not the source of the yeshuah—he is a מליץ יושר , an advocate. Throughout the generations, people have received incredible yeshuot through their tefillot at kivrei tzadikim. But the foundation of it all is still tefillah—pouring out one's heart to Hashem. I heard a remarkable story from Rabbi Heller, told to his mother by the daughter of the man it happened to. Her father fought in the Yom Kippur War, and at one point it seemed certain that he would not survive. At that moment, he made a neder to Hashem that if his life would be spared, he would move his family to the north of Israel and build up a place of Torah and mitzvot. Miraculously, he survived. After the war, he realized how difficult that commitment would be and went to his rabbi to perform hatarat nedarim. The rabbi told him that perhaps it was in the merit of that very neder that Hashem had saved him, and it would not be proper to undo it. The man accepted this and moved his family—his wife and three daughters—to the north. They settled in an abandoned home on Moshav Meron, high above the kever of Rabbi Shimon bar Yochai. Life there was extremely simple. They bought a cow and lived off its milk, trading it for eggs and other necessities. The man would go often to the kever of Rabbi Shimon and pour out his heart in tefillah. In those days, few people came, and he would spend long periods there alone, feeling a deep connection as he spoke to Hashem in that holy place. One day, his wife became very ill with typhus, and he brought her to a hospital in Tiveria. She remained there for months. The man faced a painful challenge—he wanted to be with his wife, but he also had daughters at home. Travel was extremely difficult, yet every day he made the journey back and forth to be there for both. The hospital staff was amazed at his devotion. One morning, after sending his daughters to school, he went to a phone booth to call the hospital. He sensed something was wrong. The doctor came on the line and told him the truth—his wife was in her final moments. There was no point in rushing, he said, because he would not make it in time. The man hung up the phone and burst into tears. He walked up the road and saw the kever of Rabbi Shimon. He stopped and cried out, "Please, Rabbi Shimon, pray to Hashem to save my wife." He begged and then said, "If there is a harsh decree on our family, please ask Hashem to take our cow instead." With that, he ran to catch transportation to the hospital, but on the way someone stopped him and told him that his cow had just died. The man was elated. When he got to the hospital, the doctor hugged him and said, "It's a miracle—your wife is alive." He then told him something astonishing. At the time of the phone call, his wife had already passed—there was no pulse. They were about to cover her with a sheet, but the nurse said they should wait until he arrived. A couple of minutes later, they heard her coughing, and then she called out for a cup of water. This is a modern-day story of techiyat hametim in the merit of Rabbi Shimon bar Yochai. Tefillah is always wondrous and at Kivrei Tzadikim, it's even better.

The Midrash at the beginning of Parashat Emor quotes the pasuk in Tehillim: יוֹם לְיוֹם יַבִּיעַ אֹמֶר וְלַיְלָה לְלַיְלָה יְחַוֶּה דָּעַת . The Midrash explains that in the months of Nisan and Tishrei, the day and night are equal. In the summer, the day borrows hours from the night, and in the winter, the night borrows from the day, until over the course of the year they balance out perfectly. The mefarshim ask: what does this have to do with Parashat Emor, and what is the message of this Midrash? The Tehillot Maharitz explains that every individual in Klal Yisrael has a different role. Although there are many mitzvot that apply only to Kohanim and Levi'im, כל ישראל ערבים זה לזה —we are all responsible for one another. They serve on behalf of us, and we serve on behalf of them. When we understand that we are all one unit, forming Hashem's army of servants, we can truly love one another and remove jealousy from our hearts. The Or HaChaim explains that when Moshe Rabbeinu was told to instruct the Kohanim about their unique mitzvot, one might have thought this would be difficult for him. Originally, Moshe was meant to be the Kohen, but because he hesitated at the burning bush to accept the role of leadership, the kehuna was given to Aharon instead. And we know there was no one who loved mitzvot more than Moshe Rabbeinu. It would seem that hearing about all the additional mitzvot given to the Kohanim could have caused him pain. For this, the Midrash gives its answer. Just as the day and night borrow from each other without resentment, knowing that together they create a perfect balance, so too Klal Yisrael. Some are Kohanim, some Levi'im, some are wealthy, some are poor—but when each person fulfills his role, together we form a perfect nation serving Hashem. Imagine a team competing in a contest, where each correct answer helps the entire team win. If one member answers many questions correctly, his teammates are not jealous—they are thrilled, because his success is their success. That is how we must feel about one another. We are all on the same team, serving the same Hashem. When one person excels, it elevates all of us. The Gemara at the end of Masechet Menachot tells of a tragic case where one brother became jealous of the other for being appointed Kohen Gadol, to the point that he wanted to kill him. Had he understood that they were on the same team, serving the same Hashem, such jealousy could never have existed. Hashem assigns each person a different role, and one who fulfills his mission receives his full reward—just like anyone else who fulfills theirs. It is not a competition. Hashem has enough to give everyone. At Yetziat Mitzrayim, while the Jewish people were busy collecting gold and silver, Moshe Rabbeinu was occupied with bringing the bones of Yosef. On this, the pasuk says: חכם לב יקח מצוות . Moshe was called wise because he chose mitzvot over wealth, and that lesson has inspired generations. All the merit of that inspiration belongs to him. In fact, if Moshe had been a Kohen, he would not have been able to become tameh to carry Yosef's bones. It was specifically this act that led to the great miracle of Keriat Yam Suf. What seemed like a limitation for Moshe became the greatest opportunity. There is never a reason to be jealous of what someone else has, does, or achieves. Hashem gives each person exactly the opportunities needed to fulfill his unique mission. The more we rejoice in another person's success, the more we align ourselves with Hashem's plan and become better servants of Him.

The Rambam, in Hilchot Talmud Torah (3:12), writes that one cannot achieve success in Torah learning if he learns in a relaxed manner, and only when learning is convenient and comfortable. Like anything else in life, a person excels only through persistence, diligence, and hard work. "Dabbling" in Torah will not result in Torah scholarship – just like "dabbling" in any other field will not lead to mastery or excellence in that field. There are no shortcuts to achievement in Torah study. Rav Mordechai Gifter (1915-2001), Rosh Yeshiva of the Telz Yeshiva in Cleveland, would say that a lot of students want to learn the entire Shas in one night – and also manage to sleep eight hours that night…and to learn while sipping soda… Quite obviously, this is not how it works. A person can succeed in Torah learning only if he is prepared to put in the time, work and effort, and to learn even when conditions are far less than ideal. This includes learning even when one feels tired. Although a person should certainly sleep as much as he needs, he should ensure to use the rest of his time for Torah learning, and not for sleeping beyond what he needs for his physical and emotional wellbeing. Many sources emphasize the particular importance and value of learning Torah during the nighttime hours. In fact, the Gemara (Erubin 65a) states explicitly that the nighttime period was designated specifically for Torah learning. And the Rambam writes in Hilchot Talmud Torah (3:13): "Even though it is a Misva to study both during the day and at night, it is only at night that a person acquires the majority of his wisdom. Therefore, whoever wishes to merit the "Crown of Torah" should be careful with all of his nights, not wasting even one of them on sleep, eating, drinking, idle chatter, or the like—rather, [spending them] in the study of Torah and words of wisdom." The Rambam concludes: "And any house in which the words of Torah are not heard at night will be consumed by fire." If one's "fire" – his passion, his excitement and energy – is directed somewhere else other than Torah, then his home runs the risk, Heaven forbid, of being consumed by fire. The Torah tells (Bereshit 28:11) that when Yaakob was leaving Eretz Yisrael, and he reached the site where the Bet Ha'mikdash would be built, he went to sleep ("Va'yalen Sham"). The Midrash comments that Yaakob slept there – but did not sleep at all during the fourteen previous years, which he spent learning Torah in the yeshiva of Shem and Eber. The commentators explain that this cannot mean that he literally remained awake for fourteen years. Rather, it means that during that period, Yaakob never actually went to sleep in a bed. When he needed to, he put his head down, or found a place to lie so he could get the small amount of sleep that he needed. In order to achieve in Torah learning, one must be prepared to sacrifice physical comfort, and to keep his sleep to a minimum. A different passage in the Midrash tells that King David would go to sleep at nightfall, but he kept a musical instrument by his bedroom window, that served as a kind of "alarm clock." At Hasot (midnight), the wind would blow the strings, producing music, and David would wake up to learn Torah. The Yeser Ha'ra (evil inclination) would try to convince him to go back to sleep, saying that kings normally enjoy the luxury of sleeping late, as they do not have to rise early for work like the commoners. But David would ignore the Yeser Ha'ra and spend the rest of the night engrossed in Torah study. The Gemara (Sukka 26b) instructs that if a person needs to sleep during the day, he should sleep for only a brief amount. Elsewhere (Erubin 65a), the Gemara relates that Rav Hisda's daughter asked why he slept so little, and he replied that soon – after his passing – he would have plenty of time for sleep… Our limited time here in this world should be used productively, and not wasted on excessive rest and relaxation. The Midrash Tanhuma (Parashat Noah, 3) warns that in order to succeed in learning the intricate material of the Torah She'be'al Peh, one cannot aspire to wealth and luxuries; the only way to excel in Torah learning is by sacrificing physical and material comforts. Similarly, Tana De'beh Eliyahu Zuta (14) warns that excessive eating and sleeping leads to "poverty" in the area of Torah knowledge. Normally, when a person stays up late at night and sleeps only the minimum that he requires, he is likely to appear the next day pale, drained, and bleary-eyed, and might not be very pleasant to look at. However, the Gemara (Hagiga 12a) promises that if a person spends his night learning Torah, Hashem "casts a cord of Hesed" over him. This means that he will have a certain "charm" the next day, earning people's admiration and favor despite his fatigue. In a different passage (Sanhedrin 71b), the Gemara teaches that when the righteous sleep, they and the entire world suffer a loss. As the Sadikim spend their time productively, involved in meaningful pursuits that benefit them and the entire world, they and the world lose as a result of the time they spend sleeping. (Conversely, then, when the wicked sleep – and thus are not engaged in their sinful behavior – they and the entire world benefit from their inactivity.) The Gemara in Masechet Menahot (110a) teaches that scholars who spend their nights learning Torah are considered as though they offer sacrifices in the Bet Ha'mikdash. And in Masechet Tamid (32b), the Gemara states that if a person learns Torah at night, the Shechina accompanies him wherever he goes. The Talmud Yerushalmi (Ta'anit 3a) cites Rav Ada Bar Ahaba as avowing that he never slept an entire night, as he always rose early to learn Torah. The Reshit Hochma ( Rabbi Eliyahu de Vidas, 1518–1587) writes that when one learns Torah at night, he is not seen; his study is private, without publicity and fanfare, and this lends it a very special quality. Since he learns secretly, he is worthy of having the hidden secrets of the Torah revealed to him. An especially stern passage appears in Abot De'Rabbi Natan (29:3), warning that if a person is awake at night and not involved in Torah learning, "he would be better off had he been strangled at birth." Rabbenu Yona (Spain, 1200-1263) writes that if a person stays awake at night learning Torah, then he obviates the need for Yisurin (punishments). Since he subjects himself to the discomfort of remaining awake to learn Torah, this counts for whichever kinds of suffering he needs to experience. This is alluded to by the verse in Tehillim (94:12), "Ashreh Ha'geber Asher Teyaserenu Y-ah U'mi'Toratecha Telamedenu" – "Fortunate is the man whom G-d punished, and teaches him from his Torah." This can be read to mean that a person is fortunate if he receives his punishments by immersing himself in intensive Torah learning, exerting hard work and effort. Rabbenu Yona further notes that Moshe Rabbenu did not sleep at all throughout the forty days he spent atop Mount Sinai receiving the Torah – setting an example of minimizing sleep for the sake of Torah learning. If, Rabbenu Yona adds, a king invited someone to his treasury to collect as many riches as he could for a specific period of time, this man would certainly not sleep at all during that time, and would use every moment he could to collect riches. We, too, should use as much of our limited time in this world as we can for Torah learning, collecting spiritual "riches," rather than waste our time indulging in physical comforts. Rav Besalel Ashkenazi (Israel, 1520-1592) writes that in his youth, he spent his nights engaged in Torah study, often learning throughout the night without sleeping. He also occasionally skipped meals. It was through this sacrifice of physical comforts for Torah learning that he achieved Torah scholarship. The Reshit Hochma writes that his esteemed mentor, Rav Yosef Taychik (1465-1546), did not sleep in a bed for forty years, and would instead sit on an elevated piece of furniture with his legs dangling, such that he would not stay asleep for an extended period. He rose every night at midnight and spent the rest of the night learning Torah. And a disciple of Rav Yehonatan Eibshutz (1694-1764) testified that throughout the years he spent learning under him, Rav Yehonatan never slept in a bed, and instead dozed for brief periods in his chair. Rav Chaim Brim (Jerusalem, 1922-2002) related that the Hazon Ish (Rav Abraham Yeshaya Karelitz, 1878-1953) was once found sleeping on his bed in the wrong position – with his feet on the side where the head was supposed to be. The people told him to turn around, and he said, "If I had the strength to turn myself around, I would learn another Tosafot." The Hazon Ish continued learning Torah until he had no strength left, not even to turn his body around. Rav Haim Palachi (Turkey, 1788-1868) wrote that if a person could see into the future, to the time when he would be in the grave, and understand the extent of the regret he would experience for not having used his time properly, he would never waste time, and he would minimize his sleep in order to spend more time learning Torah. Rav Palachi added that a person who rises at midnight to learn Torah earns the status of a "friend" of Hashem and of the Nation of Israel, and he will be spared punishments that befall the rest of the world. The Reshit Hochma notes that when rising at midnight to learn Torah, one should be driven solely by his genuine love for Hashem, and not by any ulterior motives. Only if his intentions are pure will he reap the precious rewards for learning Torah at night. The Reshit Hochma says that as a teenager, he devoted himself entirely to Torah study, engaging in virtually no other activities. The Peleh Yoetz (Rav Eliezer Papo, 1785-1828) urges us to train ourselves to sleep fewer hours and to learn Torah even when we feel drowsy, in order to maximize the amount of time we have to devote to Torah. The Ben Ish Hai (Rav Yosef Haim of Baghdad, 1833-1909) discusses the great value of learning Torah in the predawn hours, adding that one's intentions should be for the sake of Hashem, and not to earn reward. The Tchebiner Rav (1881-1965) had the practice on Shabbat afternoons of testing schoolchildren on their Torah studies. One Shabbat afternoon, a boy knocked on his door, but there was no answer, as the Rabbi was sleeping. The youngster continued knocking until the Rabbi answered. The Rabbi gently told the boy that if nobody answers the door on Shabbat afternoon, this usually means that the people in the home are asleep. "I didn't think that the Rabbi slept on Shabbat afternoon!" The Tchebiner Rav committed to never sleep again on Shabbat afternoon, acknowledging that this was the expectation of a sage of his stature. From all these sources, we see the importance of learning Torah even when one feels tired, and that we must try to push ourselves to achieve to the best of our ability rather than spend our free time relaxing and learning only when it is easy and convenient.

Lag BaomerUnstoppable Prayer, Real Relationship.One of the most famous blessings associated with Rabbi Shimon Bar Yochai (Rashbi) is his power to help childless couples. The Jewish people have long attributed a special spiritual remedy to Rashbi and to Lag B'Omer — his day of joy — specifically in the matter of being blessed with children. At the heart of this topic is a remarkable Midrash, where a childless couple came to Rashbi for help. Rather than simply offering a blessing, Rashbi gave them a creative and original piece of advice that completely transformed their fate and ultimately blessed them with many children.What makes this lesson truly powerful is that Rashbi's advice was far more than a remedy for childlessness. Hidden within it is a deep and revolutionary understanding of what it means to build a healthy marriage, a practical path to strengthening the relationship between husband and wife, and a complete vision of what a true Jewish home looks like. The miracle of Rashbi was not magic — it was wisdom, addressing the very root of the couple's situation and showing how a marriage must be built and nurtured in order to truly flourish.

The Chovot HaLevavot writes in Shaar HaBitachon, Perek Dalet, that a person must believe that his efforts in earning a parnassah do not in any way enable him to earn even one more penny than Hashem already decreed for him to have. He is only making the effort because that is what Hashem wants, and once he makes a reasonable effort, he has fulfilled that obligation. Therefore, if a person is earning a lot of money through the means that he chose to put his efforts in, it is not proper for him to think that it is the business that is bringing him success. Accordingly, it is incorrect for him to add more effort and more hours simply because he is seeing success in his business. For example, if a person is working a regular eight-hour day and earning a good livelihood, he should not say, "I will add a couple of more hours to my workday so I could earn even more money." That would be an act that shows he believes it is the means that are giving him success and not Hashem. If he already created a pipeline for Hashem to send the parnassah, he does not need to add more time to his regular workday to earn more. If Hashem decreed that he should earn more, He will send it through his existing efforts or from some other channel. And even if the person does put in more effort and sees that he is earning more money from it, that would not disprove anything the Chovot HaLevavot is teaching us. Hashem runs the world in a natural way, and if it makes sense naturally that working extra hours will produce more money, Hashem is not going to stop that. However, the person will still not earn even one more penny than Hashem already decreed for him. He may be taking the money earlier than it was supposed to come, or if it is not meant for him, he will lose it in some other way. A person can never gain by doing something that Hashem does not want him to do. I once heard a question. The Midrash says that when the Jewish people conquered and settled the land, they found all of the hidden treasures of the Emorim in the walls of the homes. How did they find them? If someone had tzaraat on his house, he would have to demolish the house, and then he would find the treasures. The question is: usually tzaraat comes from sin. Does that mean that a person profits by sinning? The answer is that Hashem decreed that those treasures were going to be given to His nation. If people had not sinned, they would have received those treasures in a much nicer way. For example, by simply banging a picture frame into the wall and discovering the jewels behind it. But if someone sinned and his house contracted tzaraat, he would only find the jewels after having to demolish his entire home. That is not a gain. Similarly, says the Chovot HaLevavot, if someone earns more money by doing something wrong, he must know that if it was meant for him, he would have received it in a much nicer way, with blessing attached to it, and his efforts would have brought him benefit in this world and the next. But now, by doing something wrong, he only lost out. He would have received that money anyway, but instead, he committed an aveirah, which will be negative for him. If a person wants to increase his parnassah, it will not come through extra effort beyond what is necessary. Rather, it can come through bitachon—by understanding that Hashem is the One providing. The bitachon that a person has is a tremendous zechut, which can bring him more blessing. We must never be fooled by the way things appear in the natural world. It may look like extra hours bring more money. It may look like doing something wrong brings more profit. But that is part of the test. Emunah means to see beyond what appears to be and to believe that Hashem is running the world. And when we follow His system, that is where all the blessing lies.

Rav Chaim Shmulevitz explains a staggering Hava Amina in a Midrash.

The Midrash says at the beginning of Parashat Tazriya, regarding a woman giving birth to a baby boy: give praise to the name of Avraham Avinu, who came from afar, as it says, וַיִּרְא אֶת הַמָּקוֹם מֵרָחֹק . The Mefarshim are bothered: what does Avraham Avinu have to do with this parasha, and why do Chazal refer to him as "the one who came from afar"? The Chidushei Harim explains that starting with the woman who gives birth, the parasha speaks about different individuals who may feel pushed away by Hashem. The woman who gives birth to a boy has a certain form of tum'a. She is not allowed to eat korbanot for forty days, which means if she gave birth before Pesach, she would not be able to bring the korban Pesach—not on Pesach Rishon, nor on Pesach Sheni. She may think to herself: I was involved in performing a great mitzvah, and now I am banned from the Beit HaMikdash. The next parasha speaks about someone who contracts tzara'at. The Gemara says tzara'at is a mizbe'ach kapara—a mizbe'ach that gives the person kapara. Some explain that it is yesurin shel ahava —afflictions of love. Not every case of tzara'at comes as a result of a sin. When a person is suspected of having tzara'at, he must be in quarantine for a week or two. If it is confirmed, he must be isolated away from everyone. He cannot attend shul, pray with a minyan, or answer Kaddish. He may feel: why is Hashem pushing me away like this? Further on, the parasha speaks about other people who become tameh through no fault of their own. They may feel the same sentiments. Imagine a family on their way up to Yerushalayim for one of the shalosh regalim, attempting to bring a korban to Hashem on the Chag, and after their long travels, they arrive at the Beit HaMikdash and discover that the man of the house has become tameh and cannot participate at all. It will definitely feel like Hashem is rejecting him. For those instances, the Midrash tells us to see what Avraham Avinu would do under such circumstances. Avraham spent his entire life teaching the world about Hashem. All he wanted was a child who would continue in the same path. After decades of waiting, he finally received a miracle child at an advanced age. Imagine the love Avraham had for this child. As the child grew, Avraham was able to teach himTorah and the ways of Hashem. Imagine the love Avraham had for Yitzchak at age five—much greater than at his birth. The love he had at age ten was even greater. He invested so much time and energy into Yitzchak, who was to continue his life's mission. Then, when Yitzchak was thirty-seven, in the prime of his life, Hashem told Avraham to slaughter him. In one second, all of Avraham's hopes and dreams were being denied. All of the love he had for his son was about to make this task extraordinarily difficult. He could have felt, "All I am trying to do is promote the name of Hashem in the world, and now He is pushing me away." Yet Avraham said to himself: if this is what Hashem wants me to do, then this is what I want. Instead of feeling rejected, he marched forward with zerizut and did Hashem's will to the best of his ability. This was one of the greatest acts of service of all time. Hashem was not distancing Avraham. He was elevating him. Hashem never distances anyone. A person may feel distanced, but that is only because he does not understand the ways of Hashem. When a person becomes tameh, it is not Hashem saying, "I do not want your korban." It is Hashem saying: "I want a different service from you now. I want you to accept that this is what is best for you, and serve Me from the place I have placed you." For that, a person will gain far more than he would have from bringing the korban. When people feel that Hashem is not interested in their service, yet they still do the best they can, that service elevates them enormously. Hashem may appear to be far from us at times, but He is always close. He always wants our avodah, no matter how it may seem. If we strengthen ourselves during those times and continue to serve Him joyfully, to the best of our ability, we will rise to the greatest levels.

התוכן הענין ד"מלכתחילה אריבער" (ההוראה והנתינת-כח של בעל ההולדת) מודגש – בהתחלת התורה: התורה מתחלת עם "בראשית" ר"ת ברכה, ברא – בכח העצמות דוקא, "ורוח אלקים מרחפת וגו' – זה רוחו של משיח", האור שנברא ביום הראשון הי' אדה"ר מביט בו מסוף העולם עד סופו. בסיום התורה: "לכל האותות והמופתים גו' לעיני כל ישראל". בהתחלת תושבע"פ – מס' ברכות: "מאימתי" דקאי על יראה עילאה. בסיום הש"ס: ה' עוז גו' את עמו בשלום". בהתחלת ספר התניא: "משביעין אותו" גם מלשון שובע. בסיום חלק א' דתניא: "יתברך ויתעלה". בהתחלת שו"ע: "שויתי הוי' לנגדי תמיד". וזוהו גם תוכן תפקיד האדם ד"יפוצו מעיינותיך חוצה": שכ"א מג' ענינים אלו (יפוצו, מעיינותיך, חוצה) הוא הענין ד"מלכתחילה אריבער".ג' חלקים משיחת יום א' פ' אמור, ב' אייר, "תפארת שבתפארת", ה'תשמ"ט ל"הנחה פרטית" או התרגום ללה"ק של השיחה: https://thedailysicha.com/?date=19-04-2026 Synopsis The concept of m'lechatchilah ariber (as shown and empowered by the Rebbe Maharash, whose birthday it is) is emphasized in: (1) The beginning of the Torah – Bereishis (which starts with a beis, the first letter of the word bracha) bara (which connotes creation by the power of Hashem's Essence); additionally, as the Midrash says, the verse “and the spirit of G-d hovered over…” refers to the spirit of Moshiach, and moreover, with the light created on the first day of Creation, Adam HaRishon was able to gaze from one end of the world to the other. (2) The conclusion of the Torah – “…with regard to all the signs and wonders…in view of the entire Jewish people.” (3) The beginning of Shas –“Me'eimasai…,” which alludes to the higher level of awe of Hashem. (4) The conclusion of Shas – “Hashem will give strength to His people; Hashem will bless His people with peace.” (5) The beginning of Tanya –“Mashbi'in oso,” which also connotes sova (satiety). (6) The conclusion of Part I of Tanya – “…May He be blessed and exalted.” (7) The beginning of the Shulchan Aruch – “I have set Hashem before me constantly.” Similarly, in a Jew's task of spreading the wellsprings outward, each of the three elements (“spreading,” “your wellsprings,” and “outward”) embodies the concept of m'lechatchilah ariber.3 excerpts from sichah of Sunday, parashas Emor, 2 Iyar 5749 For a transcript in English of the Sicha: https://thedailysicha.com/?date=19-04-2026 לזכות שמואל בן שושנה שי' ליום ההולדת שלו ב' אייר - לשנת ברכה והצלחה, ואריכות ימים ושנים טובות*לע”נ הרב חיים ב"ר אלי'הו הלוי ע"ה סוויד ליום היארצייט שלו בדר"ח אייר. ת.נ.צ.ב.ה.נדבת בתו מרת רוזה חנה ובעלה ר' אברהם הכהן שיחיו כהן

B”H Welcome to a new series on the Jewish Money Matters podcast: Living With the Times.  In this episode, Yael explores the connection between Parashat Tatzria–Metzorah and our financial lives through the lens of bitachon—true reliance on G-d.  Drawing from the Targum Onkelos, Midrash, and Talmud, she uncovers how bitachon impacts not only personal financial outcomes, but even the broader reality of redemption.  You'll also hear powerful stories that illustrate the connection between bitachon and parnassah (sustenance), along with practical tools to strengthen your trust in Hashem—including the transformative practice of reframing, as learned from Parashat Metzorah. The post 462: Living With the Times: Tatzria–Metzorah & Jewish Money Matters appeared first on Yael Trusch.

The Midrash tells that each day, King David would have plans for the day, intending to go to various places and to see different people, but his legs always brought him to the Bet Midrash to learn Torah. The Or Ha'haim (Rav Haim Ben-Attar, 1696-1743) understood the Midrash's comment literally, that King David's legs had "a mind of their own," so-to-speak, and would bring David to the study hall despite his plans to go elsewhere. David had such a strong, deep-seated desire to learn Torah that his legs automatically took him to the Bet Midrash, even when he did not plan to go there. The Or Ha'haim explains on this basis the Torah's promise of great reward "Im Be'hukotai Telechu" – "If you walk according to My statutes" (Vayikra 26:3). This means that we are worthy of great reward if we feel such love and passion for Torah that we walk "Be'hukotai" – toward the Torah's laws, to learn, even when we do not intend to, because our legs automatically bring us to the study hall. Hacham Baruch Ben-Haim, however, offered a different explanation of the Midrash's comment. He said that each morning, the Yeser Ha'ra (evil inclination) would try to convince David to stay in bed, and David fought the Yeser Ha'ra by saying that he needed to get up to tend to his personal affairs. The Yeser Ha'ra has no problem with us getting up for mundane purposes, and so it left David alone and discontinued its efforts to persuade David to remain in bed. Once David got out of bed without having to struggle against the Yeser Ha'ra, he then went to the Bet Midrash to learn Torah instead of tending to his personal affairs. This was David's strategy for defeating the Yeser Ha'ra in the morning and overcoming the difficult challenge of getting up early to serve Hashem. This reading of the Midrash perhaps sheds light on a difficult verse in Shir Hashirim (4:16): "Uri Safon U'bo'i Teman" – "Arise in the north, and come to the south." The north is associated with material blessings, as the Shulhan (table) in the Mishkan – which symbolized Parnasa (livelihood) – was positioned to the north side. The south is associated with Torah wisdom, as the Menorah – the symbol of the "light" of Torah – was situated along the southern wall of the Mishkan. For this reason, the Gemara teaches that one who seeks wealth should turn somewhat to the north while praying, whereas one who seeks Torah wisdom should turn somewhat to the south. Accordingly, the verse in Shir Hashirim may be understood to mean that we should tell the Yeser Ha'ra in the morning that "Uri Safon" – we are waking up for the sake of pursuing wealth, to work and make a respectable livelihood, as the Yeser Ha'ra will then cease his efforts to convince us to stay in bed. But thereafter, "Bo'i Teman" – we should go "south," to the synagogue and study hall to pray and immerse ourselves in Torah study.

The Shulhan Aruch begins by urging us to be "strong as a lion" to wake up early for the service of our Creator. The Hesed La'alafim (Rav Eliezer Papo, 1785-1828) explains that struggling against the Yeser Ha'ra (evil inclination) is always a difficult challenge, but the struggle to wake up early in the morning is particularly difficult. Right when we wake up, it takes us time to be fully alert, and both our physical and mental faculties are frail. We are therefore in an especially compromised position vis-à-vis the Yeser Ha'ra, who is always "on top of its game" and working to discourage us from doing the right thing. The Shulhan Aruch therefore urges us to muster strength "like a lion" to resist the efforts of the Yeser Ha'ra to keep us in bed when we are supposed to be getting up to serve Hashem. The Mesilat Yesharim (Rav Moshe Haim Luzzato, Italy, 1707-1746) discusses at length the need for "strategies" for fighting the Yeser Ha'ra. The Yeser Ha'ra is exceptionally shrewd in its efforts to lead us astray, so we need to be equally clever in combating these efforts and to remain consistent in our service of Hashem. This is especially true when it comes to the struggle to get up in the morning. The Bayit Hadash (Rav Yoel Sirkis, Poland, 1561-1640) writes that in the morning, the Yeser Ha'ra cleverly tries to convince a person to remain in bed – in the winter, because it is cold early in the morning, and in the summer – when it is actually more comfortable in the cool, early morning hours – because sunrise is very early and he did not sleep enough. Often, the Yeser Ha'ra disguises its arguments as piety, telling the person that he should stay in bed and sleep late so that he can pray later with greater concentration. As the Yeser Ha'ra is shrewd and wily, it is necessary to explore strategies for winning the most difficult battle against the Yeser Ha'ra – the battle to get out of bed on time in the morning. The Hafetz Haim, who was always awake and out of bed early, was once asked about his strategy for winning this battle. He said that when the Yeser Ha'ra tries telling him to stay in bed because it's still early, or it's very cold, he would respond, "Well, you're out of bed! If you got out of bed, then so can I!" The Hida (Rav Haim Yosef David Azulai, 1724-1806) draws our attention to the comment of the Rama (Rav Moshe Isserles, Cracow, 1530-1572) on this first Halacha of the Shulhan Aruch. Citing from the Rambam in his Moreh Nebuchim, the Rama writes that a person must live with the constant awareness that Hashem is always present and sees everything he does. Knowing that we are under constant "surveillance" will assuredly affect the way we act. The Hida writes that G-d takes notice of whether or not we rise when we should, and this awareness should motivate us to wake up on time in the morning. King David says in Tehillim (119:98), "Me'oyebai Tehakemeni," which, simply understood, means, "You make me smarter than my foes." The Rabbis of Mussar explained that this verse also implies that we can gain wisdom "Me'oyebai" – from our adversaries, by learning from their example. When we see the way the wicked tirelessly pursue their desires and how carefully they plan to commit their wrongful acts, we are shown an example of the kind of vigilance with which we are to serve Hashem. When Yaakob Abinu sent a message to his brother, Esav, he told him, "I have lived with Laban, and I observed the 613 Misvot, and did not learn from his evil ways" (Rashi, Bereshit 32:5). Rav Yaakov Kamenetsky (1891-1986) explained that Yaakob here expressed his regret that he did not learn from Laban's pursuit of evil, from the way Laban so passionately and fervently dedicated himself to earn money through any possible means. Yaakob realized that he should have followed Laban's example of devoted work when serving the Almighty. Similarly, we see the lengths people go to earn money, to plan luxury vacations, to build luxury homes, to indulge in vanity – and we should commit to do the same for the sake of Torah and Misvot. Just as people wake up early very easily when this is necessary for a major business deal, or to catch a plane for a vacation, we should certainly be able to wake up early to serve Hashem. Some people employ the tactic of self-imposed "penalties," pledging to give a substantial amount of money to charity each morning that they do not wake up on time. Another relatively simple strategy for getting up early in the morning is to commit to some structured program or framework. For example, when I learned in yeshiva, some of us scheduled Havrutot (study sessions with partners) for the early morning, before Shaharit. If a person knows that his study partner will be waiting for him, he is more likely to get out of bed even if he feels tired or otherwise tempted to stay in bed. Likewise, one can join an early-morning study group, as knowing that he is part of the group makes him feel responsible to regularly attend, thus helping him overcome the temptation to sleep late. Perhaps the simplest – and most important – strategy for waking up early is going to sleep at a reasonable hour. As mentioned in an earlier installment in this series, some explain the Shulhan Aruch's instruction, "Yitgaber Ka'ari" – to be "strong as a lion" in the morning – to mean that one should go to sleep early, like a lion does, so he will wake up refreshed and energized. A yeshiva student once asked me how he can know whether or not he invests sufficient effort into his Torah study in yeshiva. I answered, very simply, that he just needs to strictly follow the yeshiva's schedule. True diligence in Torah learning does not mean that one studies into the wee hours of the morning. Rather, it means that he learns when he is supposed to learn, he eats when he is supposed to eat, he sleeps when he is supposed to sleep, and he relaxes when he is supposed to relax. Staying up very late – even to learn Torah! – is not advisable, as this makes the person less likely to wake up in time in the morning. In fact, it is told that the Hafetz Haim would shut the lights in the Bet Midrash of his yeshiva at night, because he did not want the boys to stay up too late. It is far more important to go to sleep at a reasonable hour so one can get up on time and pray properly, than to stay awake learning until late hours of the night. It is told that at one point during the Hida's travels, he found himself in a certain yeshiva in Germany, where there was a certain outstanding young prodigy, who was remarkably diligent in his Torah study. This youngster grew to become a renowned sage – Rav Natan Adler (1741-1800), the mentor of the Hatam Sofer (Rav Moshe Sofer of Pressburg, 1762-1839). As a young man, he would stay up very late learning Torah, and the Hida saw him arrive late one morning, since he had been up so late. The Hida approached him and gently reprimanded him by citing the remark made by the Shunamite woman, who would host the prophet Elisha: "Ish Elokim Kadosh Hu, Ober Alenu Tamid" – "He is a sacred man of G-d, who regularly passes through here" (Melachim II 4:9). This alluded to young Natan Adler who was a very holy individual – but who regularly "passed Alenu" – arriving late for Shaharit, after the recitation of Alenu… When we go to sleep early, so we wake up refreshed, we avoid the Yeser Ha'ra altogether. We don't even "get into the ring," so-to-speak, because we feel well-rested and ready to get out of bed, without having to struggle. Concluding this opening passage, urging us to rise early in the morning, the Shulhan Aruch writes, "She'yeheh Hu Me'orer Ha'shahar" – "that one should wake up the dawn." Meaning, ideally one should be awake before the sunrise, as though he "wakes up" the morning sun. The source of this concept is King David's proclamation in Tehillim (57:9), "A'ira Shahar" – "I shall awaken the dawn." The Midrash comments: "I shall awaken the dawn, rather than allow the dawn to awaken me." The Taz (Rav David Segal, Poland, d. 1667) raises the question of why the Shulhan Aruch writes only, "that one should wake up the dawn," omitting the Midrash's addition – that David did not allow the dawn to awaken him. The answer, the Taz suggests, is that only a righteous person like King David could have the confidence to declare that he would never wake up past dawn. A person on his level has the motivation and self-discipline to arise early in the morning. Most other people, however, cannot be so confident. We are instructed to make an effort to wake before dawn, but we know that we are frail and require Hashem's assistance. The Shulhan Aruch alludes to this distinction between us and King David by stating only that a person should arise before dawn, without expressing himself as definitively as King David did. The Taz's comments instruct that we must seek Hashem's assistance, and ask Him to help us get up early in the morning. The Rama, in his glosses to this opening passage in the Shulhan Aruch, emphasizes that when a person goes to sleep, he should be mindful of the fact that Hashem is present and watches him even while he sleeps. The work Si'ah Yishak explains the Rama to mean that going to sleep with this awareness will help a person get out of bed on time in the morning. When a person goes to sleep, he can "program" his mind to wake up early by contemplating that Hashem is watching him as he sleeps, and that he must therefore ensure to wake up properly. This is yet another important strategy for waking up early in the morning – to be mindful when going to sleep that Hashem is there watching him as he sleeps, and expects him to wake up on time.

Look closely at the broken walls of Israel, and you might just see the hidden history, resilience, and ancient secrets waiting to be uncovered in the rubble. The Bible contains an enigmatic set of laws about a house that becomes afflicted—and somehow needs to be cured. But the Rabbis flip the script. What if this "plague" isn't a punishment… but a gift? What if tearing down a wall reveals something hidden בתוך הקיר—inside the wall? Key Takeaways Our homes are not just structures—they are stories The Torah teaches that a house can carry memory, history, and even moral weight. Whether through Midrash, archaeology, or modern Israel, we learn: What's inside the walls is not empty—it's the past, waiting to be uncovered. 2. Sometimes breaking is a form of revealing What looks like destruction can also be exposure. The Rabbis reframed tzara'at not as punishment—but as a gift: When the walls come down, hidden truths—about the past and about ourselves—come to light. 3. The real "treasure" is resilience Today, as we see homes in Israel torn open, it's hard to imagine anything positive. And yet: The treasure isn't gold in the walls— it's the strength, courage, and resilience of the people who built—and will rebuild—again. Timestamps [00:00] Afflicted House Mystery [01:08] Meet The Hosts [01:29] Reading Metzora Laws [03:32] Rashi Hidden Treasures [08:00] Why Only In Israel [09:34] Mold Medicine And Ritual [15:37] Walls Have Ears [18:26] Sponsor Break [19:33] Archaeology And Spolia [25:50] Artist Finds In Concrete [29:15] War Ruins And Resilience [31:10] Closing Blessings Links & Learnings Sign up for free and get more from our weekly newsletter https://madlik.com/ Sefaria Source Sheet: https://voices.sefaria.org/sheets/719351 Transcript here: https://madlik.substack.com/

We dive into one of the strangest and most cinematic passages in the entire New Testament: the "resurrection of the saints" in Jerusalem following Jesus crucifixion. Was it a literal historical event, a metaphorical callback to Ezekiel, or something else entirely? The boys play a high-stakes round of "Zombie or Zom-bae," testing their Bible trivia on everything from Lazarus's "smell factor" to Elisha's miracle bones. Bros, Bibles and Beer is officially rebranding soon. We discuss the heart behind our new name—We Should Know Better—and share some heavy news regarding the closure of our church home. 00:00 - Intro: Trump Bobbleheads & Hop Secret Beer 02:34 - New Game: Zombie or Zombie! 04:00 - The 48-Hour Resurrection Delay (Matthew 27) 06:10 - Lazarus & the 4-Day Cultural Proof 07:55 - Elisha's Miracle Bones vs. Gary 10:00 - Tabitha's Portfolio & Brisket Recipes 11:55 - Andy's Carpool Lane Confession 15:00 - The Theology of "Celestial Zombies" 21:20 - Midrash: Was it a Literal Zombie Army? 27:00 - The "Revealed" Veil: A New Perspective on Access 31:00 - Oral Tradition: 9/11 and the Megaphone Theory 43:00 - Is the Bible "Perfect"? Exploring Literary Genres 50:30 - Major Announcement: Rebranding to "We Should Know Better" 01:00:58 - Hard News: The Closing of Mountain View Church 01:18:20 - Why the Community Was Worth Fighting For 01:28:30 - Muscle Mommies & Kerry Underwood's Legs 01:33:30 - Future Plans & Final Cheers SUBSCRIBE & SHARE us this week!Contact Us: brosbiblesbeer@gmail.com⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠ Leave Us A VoicemailYouTubeSimpleCastSpotifyApple PodcastsFacebook ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠XInstaBros Bibles & Beer is: Jeff, Zack & Andy Find us wherever fine podcasts are distributed. Oh, and share us with a friend this week! Grace. Peace. Cheers! Hosted by Simplecast, an AdsWizz company. See pcm.adswizz.com for information about our collection and use of personal data for advertising.

The pasuk says that the Jewish people cried out to Hashem in tefillah during their harsh slavery in Mitzrayim, and Hashem heard their tefillot and remembered the treaty He made with Avraham, Yitzchak, and Yaakov, and then He redeemed them. Although Chazal tell us many reasons for what brought about the ge'ulah from Mitzrayim—such as the emunah that they had in Hashem, the merit of the righteous women, the fact that they stayed separate in name, language, and dress, that they remained morally pure, and that they did not speak lashon hara—it seems from the pasuk that the final catalyst to bring the ge'ulah was their prayers. It is brought down in the sefer Chafetz Chaim al HaTorah that toward the end of the Chafetz Chaim's life, at a seudah shelishit on Parashat Shemot in front of many gedolim, the Rav said, "that it is known the Jewish people were finally redeemed from Mitzrayim because of their tefillot. And we have a tradition from the Navi Micha that our future redemption will be just like the one from Mitzrayim, as it says: כִּימֵי צֵאתְךָ מֵאֶרֶץ מִצְרַיִם אַרְאֶנּוּ נִפְלָאוֹת In Mitzrayim, everything was ready for the ge'ulah to happen. Moshe Rabbeinu was already born, and everything was in place. Yet it appears from the pesukim that without tefillah, they would not have been redeemed. All Hashem was waiting for was His children to cry out to Him that they wanted to be redeemed. For our ge'ulah, which we hope will come very soon, our tefillot are essential to bring it about. It could be that everything is ready, and all that is necessary is our tefillot to finish it off. Therefore, I am going to travel to the Gadol Hador, Rav Chaim Ozer, and ask him to tell Klal Yisrael to strengthen themselves in prayer for the ge'ulah, and then we will finally be zoche to be redeemed from this long and bitter exile." After seudah shelishit, the Chafetz Chaim told the chazan in the shul to go a little quicker so he could leave to go see Rav Chaim Ozer. In the end, the Chafetz Chaim's family convinced him not to travel due to the life danger it would pose at his advanced age. So the Chafetz Chaim told someone to send a message to Rav Shimon Shkop to tell him to go instead. However, due to technical difficulties, that did not happen either. After the Chafetz Chaim found out that nobody went to Rav Chaim Ozer, he said, "We just missed an opportune time for the ge'ulah." The message of the Chafetz Chaim at that time is actually a Midrash in Shemot Rabbah, which quotes Hashem as saying that when the Jewish people cry out to Me, their salvation will come. That is what happened by the burning bush, that is what happened during the days of Gidon, and that is what will happen for the final ge'ulah to take place. We are still in the month of Nisan, which Chazal tell us is a very opportune time for ge'ulah. There are major things going on in the world at large, with a focus on Eretz Yisrael. Who knows what kind of opportunity we have at this time. It is incumbent upon all of us to strengthen ourselves and pray for the ge'ulah shelemah. We put so much emphasis on praying for things that we need—like parnassah, refuah, and shidduchim. We cry and beg Hashem for salvations, but we must not put any less effort into praying for the ge'ulah shelemah. It is going to be our prayers that will produce the moment that all of Klal Yisrael has been anticipating since the beginning of time. The Mashiach may very well be here and waiting. It is up to us to make it happen. Let us put more focus in the Amidah on the berachot that have to do with the ge'ulah, and be'ezrat Hashem, Hashem will hear His children crying out to Him and give us the Mashiach Tzidkeinu b'karov. Amen

The Shulhan Aruch, the authoritative code of Halacha, begins with the following instruction: "Yitgaber Ka'ari La'amod Ba'boker La'abodat Bor'o" – "One shall strengthen himself like a lion to arise in the morning for the service of his Creator." The fact that this Halacha opens the Shulhan Aruch shows us that waking early in the morning is a fundamental part of our religious responsibilities. In fact, this quality is what impressed Bilam when he attempted to place a curse upon Beneh Yisrael, compelling him to bless them, instead, as he exclaimed, "Hen Am Ke'labi Yakum" – "Behold, a nation that rises like a lion" (Bamidbar 23:24). Rashi explains this as a reference to the way Beneh Yisrael rise in the morning and immediately "pounce" to perform Misvot, putting on Tallit and Tefillin, and praying. Indeed, Rashi (Shemot 19:3) brings from the Midrash that each time Moshe Rabbenu climbed to the top of Mount Sinai, he did so early in the morning – "Kol Aliyotav Be'hashkama Hayu." Some explain this to mean that every spiritual "ascent" requires "Hashkama" – rising early. The path to spiritual greatness begins with waking up early in the morning. Abraham Abinu is likewise described on several occasions as rising early in the morning, because this is how he became great – by beginning his day early. Rav Eliyahu Lopian (1876-1970) was known for rising early every morning. When he was asked about this practice, he said that when he leaves this world, and will stand before the Heavenly Tribunal, he will be judged regarding his compliance with the Shulhan Aruch. He wanted to at least "pass" the first question – whether he complied with the Shulhan Aruch's very first ruling, that one should make an effort to get up early in the morning. If a businessman scheduled an early morning meeting with a prospective customer, and the potential deal was worth a million dollars, there is no question that he would be up at the crack of dawn and arrive early so he could be fully prepared with his sales pitch. The money at stake motivates the businessman to arise early. If we knew that the Misvot we perform each morning are worth many times more than any amount of money, bringing us eternal rewards, we would never think to sleep late. We would eagerly get out of bed and rush to perform the Misvot energetically and enthusiastically, as early as we could. People want to stay in bed and sleep late only if they don't have anything to wake up for. Once we acknowledge the inestimable value and worth of each and every Misva, we realize how much we have to do, and we then excitedly get out of bed early in the morning to get started. Rising early is also a crucial component of our ongoing struggle against the Yeser Ha'ra (evil inclination). The Sha'reh Tefila comments that just as when an army goes out to war, the first battle is the most important one because it sets the tempo and momentum for the rest of the war, our first battle with the Yeser Ha'ra each day similarly sets the tone for the rest of the daily "war" against it. The Yeser Ha'ra tries to convince us to remain in bed, and if we win this struggle and get up early, then we are in a better position to emerge victorious in our subsequent struggles with the Yeser Ha'ra throughout the day. Waking up early, then, helps us overcome all spiritual challenges that we encounter. The Hida (Rav Haim Yosef David Azulai, 1724-1806) cites his grandfather, the Hesed Le'Abraham (Rav Abraham Azulai, Hebron, d. 1643), as finding an allusion to this concept in the Gemara's famous teaching, "Ha'ba Le'horgecha, Hashkem Le'horgo" – "He who comes to kill you, arise to kill him." On the simple level, this means that one is allowed to kill a person who seeks to kill him. On a deeper level, however, "He who comes to kill you" refers to the Yeser Ha'ra, which seeks to spiritually kill us by leading us to sin. The Gemara teaches us, "Hashkem Le'horgo" – that we should arise early in the morning in order to defeat the Yeser Ha'ra. The way we eliminate our evil inclination is by waking early. This is alluded to also in G-d's pronouncement to the snake after it lured Adam and Hava to sin in Gan Eden: "Hu Yeshufcha Rosh, Ve'ata Teshufenu Akeb" (Bereshit 3:15). Literally, this means that human beings will kill the snake by stomping on its head, whereas the snake can strike the human being only by biting its foot. Additionally, however, "Hu Yeshufcha Rosh" means that the way we defeat the Yeser Ha'ra – which is symbolized by the snake – is through "Rosh," by waking up at the "head," or beginning, of the day. Conversely, the snake can defeat a person through "Akeb," the "heel," by convincing him to oversleep and get a late start to the day. The Torah says that when Abraham Abinu set out to fulfill the command of Akedat Yishak, he arose early in the morning and saddled his donkey ("Va'yashkem Abraham Ba'boker Va'yahavosh Et Hamoro" – Bereshit 22:3). The word "Hamor" ("donkey") is often interpreted as an allusion to "Homriyut," physicality, the animalistic tendencies within every person. Abraham succeeded in "saddling" and restraining his physical qualities by rising early in the morning. The Midrash comments that this donkey was the same donkey on which Moshe Rabbenu rode when he journeyed from Midyan to Egypt, and Mashiah will ride this same donkey when it arrives to redeem the Jewish People. The deeper meaning of the Midrash is that all great Sadikim – like Moshe Rabbenu and Mashiah – succeed in overcoming their physical tendencies by rising early in the morning, like Abraham Abinu did. The Ben Ish Hai (Rav Yosef Haim of Baghdad, 1833-1909), in Parashat Vayishlah, writes that the first half of the night – from nightfall to midnight – is called "Layil," whereas the period from midnight until sunrise is called "Layla" – the word "Layil" with the letter Heh added. This letter Heh signifies a higher level, indicating that this is a time of great spiritual potential. Accordingly, the Ben Ish Hai writes, the great Sadikim would go to sleep right at nightfall and then rise at Hasot to learn Torah until the early morning. The Ben Ish Hai notes that the letters of the word "Layla" (Lamed, Yod, Lamed, Heh) are the first letters of the words "Ha'ba Le'horgecha Yashkim Le'horgo" – alluding to the aforementioned teaching that the way we defeat and eliminate the Yeser Ha'ra is by rising early, and being awake during the "Layla," the second part of the night. Although nowadays we are not able to keep to this schedule, nevertheless, this demonstrates for us the importance of rising early in the morning. The Sages teach, "Kol Hat'halot Kashot" – "All beginnings are difficult," which means simply that any new undertaking is difficult at the outset, when a person gets started. However, Rav Haim Palachi (Turkey, 1788-1868) explained that this refers to the morning, the beginning of the day. Getting out of bed in the morning is difficult, but this is a challenge we must all work to overcome. Another reason to start the day early is that whenever we begin something new, it is critically important to start strong, as this builds a sturdy foundation for the rest of the undertaking. If the foundation of a structure is done improperly, the rest of the building will not be safe. Likewise, the beginning of any new project must be strong and sturdy for it to succeed. The Jewish Nation has succeeded because we are built on the strong foundation of our Abot (patriarchs) and Imahot (matriarchs), righteous men and women who laid the spiritual groundwork for Am Yisrael. This is true also of a new day – the stronger we start our day, the more likely we are to have an accomplished and successful day. We find numerous examples of this concept in our sources. Elisha Ben Abuya was an outstanding scholar, a Tanna, and the mentor of the great Rabbi Meir, but he ultimately lost his way and became a heretic, committing grievous sins such as desecrating Shabbat and even Yom Kippur. Different stories are told to explain how and why Elisha Ben Abuya abandoned the path of Torah observance. One story, told in the Talmud Yerushalmi, is that when he was a young child, his father showed him the great Sages of Israel, how their Torah study brought the fire of the Shechina into the home, and he said, "If you learn Torah, you can do amazing things like these Rabbis!" Since as a youngster Elisha was taught the message that he should learn Torah for self-serving motives, and not out of a sincere desire to serve Hashem, his educational foundations were shaky, and this allowed him to be led astray as an adult. Likewise, the Midrash comments that Noah was sharply reprimanded for planting a vineyard right after exiting the ark following the flood. As he set out to rebuild the earth, he should have begun with something more significant and meaningful than producing wine. The process was started on the wrong foot, as it were, on faulty foundations, and so Noah was criticized. This idea has also been developed in the context of the Hanukah story. As we know, the Gemara tells that the Hashmonaim, after driving the Greeks from Jerusalem, found only a small jug of pure oil with which to kindle the Menorah in the Bet Ha'mikdash, and this small quantity of oil miraculously sufficed for eight nights. The Peneh Yehoshua (Rav Yaakob Yehoshua Falk, Germany, 1680-1756) raises the question of why the Hashmonaim did not rely on the Halacha which permits performing the service in the Mikdash in a state of impurity if the entire nation is in such a state ("Tum'a Hutra Be'sibur"). After the Greeks had defiled the Bet Ha'mikdash, this leniency was certainly relevant and applicable, seemingly obviating the need to use specifically pure oil. The Peneh Yehoshua answered that the Hashmonaim did not wish to rely on Halachic leniencies as they inaugurated the Bet Ha'mikdash anew. They were now beginning a new chapter, restoring the service in the Bet Ha'mikdash after many years during which it could not be performed, and so they found it necessary to perform the service at the very highest standards, in order to set the tone for the years to come. They therefore refused to rely on the leniency of kindling the Menorah with impure oil. King Shlomo teaches in Kohelet (2:14), "He'hacham Enav Be'rosho" – "The wise man, his eyes are upon his head." The plain meaning of this verse is that a wise person looks at the potential outcome of his actions, and assesses potential risks before acting. Additionally, however, this verse has been understood to mean that a wise person focuses on the "head," on the beginning of his day, to ensure to start the day the right way, as this impacts the rest of the day. It is told that when Rav Shmuel Salant (1816-1909), the renowned Rabbi of Jerusalem, grew old, he decided to bring a Rabbi from Europe to assume his position, and the Rabbi chosen was the Aderet (Rav Eliyahu David Rabinowitz-Teomim, 1843-1905). Immediately upon the Aderet's arrival, Rav Salant brought him to officiate at a wedding to show the community their new leader. The Aderet was weary from the long, grueling trip, and so when the time came to recite the Beracha over the wine under the Huppa, he mistakenly recited "She'ha'kol" instead of "Ha'gefen." He immediately corrected himself, and recited "Ha'gefen." Afterward, people spoke about the Aderet with disdain, charging that he was ignorant of Halacha. It is well-known that although the proper blessing over wine is, of course, "Ha'gefen," one who mistakenly recited "She'ha'kol" over wine has fulfilled his obligation and does not then recite "Ha'gefen." There were those who claimed that the Aderet was unfit to serve as a Rabbinic leader, as he was unfamiliar with this simple Halacha. The Aderet explained that he certainly knew this Halacha, but he nevertheless recited "Ha'gefen" because he was reciting the blessing over the wine not only for himself, but also on behalf of the Hatan (groom), who was standing under the Huppa with his bride, prepared to begin their new life together. This new beginning, the Aderet explained, could not be built on a shaky foundation, using Halachic leniencies. It was important for the proper Beracha to be recited, even if the wrong Beracha would normally suffice after the fact, so that the marriage would begin on a strong foundation. While as a practical matter, one could question this line of reasoning, the basic concept is an important one – whenever we start something new, we must strive to begin as strongly as possible. We must therefore try hard to begin each day the right way, by waking early in the morning with energy and enthusiasm, ready to serve our Creator.

Source Sheet

Part of our responsibility in bringing the Geulah Shalema is to yearn for it, to believe that it could happen at any moment, especially now in Nisan, the month of Geulah. In Mitzrayim, they were redeemed even though they were still worshipping idols, almost on the forty-ninth level of tum'ah. In Sefer Shoftim, Perek ו׳, it says that at one point in history, the Jewish people were being persecuted by the Midyanim for seven years because of their bad deeds, yet even while they were still involved in worshipping avodah zarah, they cried out to Hashem for help, and Hashem redeemed them in a miraculous way. We must believe today that no matter what level the people are on, the moment Hashem decides to bring the Geulah, it will come. The Midrash on the words "מְדַלֵּג עַל הֶהָרִים מְקַפֵּץ עַל הַגְּבָעוֹת " says that in Mitzrayim, because Hashem desired to redeem His people, He broke the rules and redeemed them early, even though they were not on the level to be redeemed. When an angel of Hashem appeared to Gidon to tell him he was chosen to save the Jewish people from the Midyanim, he was commanded to take a bull that his father fattened for avodah zarah for seven years and offer that to Hashem. Even though generally it is forbidden to bring such an animal as a korban, Hashem made an exception, breaking the rules because He desired His people. Although the Jews were still worshipping the sheep in Mitzrayim, He told them to bring that as a korban to Him, once again breaking the rules because ahavah mekalkellet et hashurah—love causes one to act beyond the normal course.The same is true regarding Hashem's love for us. When the Jewish people were redeemed from Mitzrayim, it was obvious that Hashem was doing it. When Hashem told Gidon to wage battle against the Midyanim, He told him to take only three hundred people, in order that they would not glorify themselves, thinking they achieved the victory. Part of Geulah is us understanding that Hashem is the One bringing it. As Rabbi Menashe Reizman pointed out, a person does not have to be a great mekubal to see how Hashem has been controlling events over the past few years. On October 7th, He showed us that we have no power on our own to defend ourselves. And after that, He has given us extraordinary siyata diShmaya to overcome our enemies. Recently, He has brought America to act on our behalf and fight our battle for us. We must understand—we are completely in the hands of Hashem. He does not need missiles or warplanes to wage war, but He chooses to act through the derech ha'teva. It is apparent from the words of the Ramchal that our final redemption will come through derech ha'teva. Mashiach may not necessarily raise his staff and block missiles from Iran, but rather, when the Megillah is written about our times, it will say "that in such and such a year, Hashem put it in the minds of wise men to create a system called the Iron Dome that would knock down the missiles of our enemies. And Hashem made wondrous miracles, knocking down all those missiles and protecting His people." We are witnessing today miraculous salvations—a full month of ballistic missiles being fired, each one that could, lo alenu, be catastrophic—and our people are still rejoicing in their preparations for Pesach, still living everyday life, feeling protected, learning Torah, and praying stronger than ever. We hope in the coming days to see the ultimate yeshuah and celebrate the Geulah Shalema. Amen.

How does one approach the Passover holiday at a time of such disruption and chaos? Rabbi Professor Dalia Marx, the Rabbi Aaron D. Panken Professor of Liturgy and Midrash at Hebrew Union College in Jerusalem, told KAN's Naomi Segal that the Passover holiday itself evolved out of crisis, and offers each generation the opportunity to reflect and to grow. (Photo: Passover seder 2025 in Mishmar David, Israel. Nati Shohat/Flash90)See omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.

This week is Parashat Tzav as well as Shabbat HaGadol . On Shabbat HaGadol , the final Shabbat that the Jewish People were in Mitzrayim , Hashem commanded them to begin the process of offering the Korban Pesach . Why did Hashem command the Jews to take the sheep for the korban four days before they were going to offer it? The Midrash answers, the time of the Geula had arrived but the Jews did not have the merits to be redeemed so Hashem gave them an additional commandment regarding the korban to help them. Look how precious a mitzvah is! Even the preparation of the Korban Pesach was able to give the Jews the merit to be redeemed. The parshiot we are reading now are discussing the korbanot . The pasuk says when a Jew brought a korban, it was considered a ריח ניחוח לה' – it brought up a pleasing aroma to Hashem. What did Hashem love so much about a korban ? Perhaps we can explain from a question asked by the Acharonim : Why is it that the construction of the Mishkan did not override Shabbat while the offering of korbanot did? Seemingly, the building of a home for the Shechina to dwell in should be more important than offering sacrifices there. Rabbi Menashe Reizman quoted the sefer Nachat Yaakov who answered that the construction of the Mishkan was primarily done by Hashem. It was not humanly possible for a person to put it up, as the pasuk says הוקם המשכן. Many of the vessels as well were made by Hashem. The Menorah, for example, Hashem told Moshe to throw it into a fire and the Menorah came out. All the embroidery was miraculously made. Regarding the construction of the Second Beit HaMikdash, there were enormous stones, some 30 feet tall. How was it possible for a person to lift them so high upon a wall. The Yerushalmi says, when the people made the effort, Hashem miraculously lifted those stones for them. So therefore, since the Mishkan and the Beit HaMikdash were made by Hashem, although it was very important to Him, that did not override Shabbat. The korbanot , however, were performed exclusively by us. All of the difficult tasks involved in bringing a korban were done by the sweat of the people and Hashem loved their deeds so much. He loves when we put toil in to fulfill a mitzvah. That is what is so precious to Him and that even overrides Shabbat. Although today we cannot put in the same efforts of offering an actual korban , there's still a lot that we can do. The Midrash at the beginning of this week's parasha brings a mashal about a king who was traveling through the desert and his good friend came there to give him a basket of figs and a barrel of wine. The king told him, "You have honored me greatly by coming all the way here to give these thing to me." The friend replied, "My master, the King, this is just a small token of the honor that I want to give you. When you come back to your palace, you'll see there how much honor I'm really going to give you." That's the mashal. The nimshal is Hashem tells us, "זאת תורת העולה – You have honored Me by bringing a korban olah ." And we tell Hashem, "This is just a small token of the honor that we're capable of bringing You. When You come back to Your palace, there we're going to give You the real honor." This Midrash is obviously talking about today's time when we can't offer a real korban . So what temporary honor are we giving Hashem? Learning about the korbanot , drawing lessons from the korbanot . That in it of itself is so precious to Hashem and He considers it like we are honoring Him. But we tell Hashem, "Soon, when You bring back the Beit HaMikdash, there we're going to truly honor You, the way we're supposed to." As for today, we're still learning the lessons of korbanot , we're seeing how precious the nitty gritty involvement of a Jew in a mitzvah is to Hashem. We hope that just like Shabbat HaGadol was the last Shabbat for the Jews in Mitzrayim , so too it will be our last Shabbat in this long exile. B'ezrat Hashem, we should see the rebuilding of the Beit HaMikdash and be able to bring Hashem true glory inside of it. Shabbat Shalom.

Why are korbanos called shalom?And why does the Midrash insist that only a nation that accepted the Torah, not just one that keeps it,can bring them?In this shiur, delivered in Ba'er Miriam, Rav Burg opens up a radically deeper understanding of korbanos. Not just as a sacrifice, but as a profound act of inner and cosmic realignment.This shiur covers topics such as:Why peace in Torah doesn't mean the absence of conflict, but the harmony of opposites within a higher unity.The inner “civil war” every person lives with and how an aveirah is choosing fragmentation over wholeness.Why the nations of the world wanted korbanos but couldn't truly access them.What it means to “accept the Torah” as a posture of reality, not just a system of laws.How a korban is not giving something to Hashem but surrendering the illusion that you were ever separate from Him to begin with.Drawing on deep Torah ideas and psychological insight, this shiur reframes korbanos as the ultimate act of healing, restoring both the self and the world to their true center.

The Or Zarua (Rav Yishak of Vienna, 13 th century) brings a Midrash that tells a remarkable story about Rabbi Akiba, who once saw a man running frantically while carrying a large stack of twigs. The man was unclothed, and his body was black like charcoal. Rabbi Akiba asked the man to stop, and offered to help. He assumed that this man was a slave working for a ruthless master, and he wanted to release him from his state of servitude so he would not have to continue suffering. The man explained to Rabbi Akiba that he actually was not from the world of the living. When he was alive, he worked as a tax collector, and he would heartlessly tax the needy into poverty while currying favor with the rich, among other grave misdeeds. His punishment was that he needed to collect firewood every day, to be then burned in the fire. The only chance to end this suffering, the man told Rabbi Akiba, was for his son to recite Kaddish or lead the recitation of Barechu in the synagogue. He had died when his wife was pregnant with their only child. Rabbi Akiba asked the man about his wife's name and place of residence, and he went to find this man's child. When he asked the townspeople about the widow and her child, they angrily cursed the deceased man who was so cruel and heartless, driving many people to destitution. Rabbi Akiba learned that the man had a son, but he was not even circumcised, and certainly never learned Torah such that he would be in a position to recite Kaddish. After finding the young man, Rabbi Akiba convinced him to have a berit mila . He tried teaching him Torah, but the young man had extreme difficulty learning. Rabbi Akiba fasted for forty days, beseeching G-d to help the boy learn. He was then able to teach him. Eventually, when the young man was ready, Rabbi Akiba brought him to the synagogue, and he recited Kaddish and Barechu. Rabbi Akiba continued teaching this young man Torah, until he emerged as a great scholar, known as Rabbi Nahum Ha'pakoli. The name "Ha'pakoli" alludes to the verse in the Book of Yeshayahu (28:7), "Paku Peliliya" – "He who extracts the guilty," which is precisely what Rabbi Nahum did, rescuing his sinful father from eternal suffering. The father appeared Rabbi Akiba in a dream and wished him that he be granted a distinguished place in Gan Eden. He explained that after his son recited Kaddish and Barechu, he was relieved of the suffering that had been decreed. When the son began learning Torah regularly, he was no longer subject to any punishment. And when the son was ordained as a Rabbi, he was brought to Gan Eden to join the Sadikim. This is an early source of the time-honored custom to recite Kaddish on behalf of one's deceased parent, which has the effect of sparing the parent from punishments in the afterlife. Another source is a passage in Tanna De'beh Eliyahu, brought by Rabbi Eliezer of Worms (Germany, d. 1238), which states that even a small child can save his father from the punishments of Gehinam through the recitation of Kaddish. Moreover, the Yad Eliyahu writes that by reciting Kaddish for a deceased parent, one fulfills the Misva of Kibbud Ab Va'em – honoring one's parent. In fact, the Yad Eliyahu adds, one has more of an opportunity to fulfill the Misva of Kibbud Ab Va'em after a parent's passing, since during the parent's lifetime, the parent can decline the child's offers to give honor. After the parent's passing, however, the parent cannot refuse the recitation of Kaddish – and even if the parent never requested that Kaddish be recited after his or her death, the child must assume that this was the parent's wish. As Kibbud Ab Va'em constitutes a Torah obligation, we follow the rule that one must act stringently in situations of uncertainty ("Safek De'Orayta Le'humra"), and thus a child must, under all circumstances, recite Kaddish for a deceased parent. Similarly, Rav Yosef Engel (1858-1919) writes that reciting Kaddish is the highest form of Kibbud Ab Va'em, as there is nothing greater that one can do for a parent than bring the parent to Gan Eden, which is what a child achieves by reciting Kaddish. Our community can be proud that this practice is meticulously observed, virtually without exception. Even when people travel, if they are in the first year after a parent's passing, Heaven forbid, they ensure to have a Minyan available so as not to miss even a single recitation of Kaddish. This is a testament to our community's awareness of the great importance of this cherished custom, and of our community's strong dedication to the precious Misva of Kibbud Ab Va'em. Importantly, however, Hacham Ovadia cites the Yosef Ometz as noting that the Kaddish recitation was instituted for those who are unable to benefit their parents' souls through the study of Torah. The benefit brought through Torah study is many times greater than the recitation of Kaddish, and if one arrives at a Hiddush (a novel Torah insight) while learning in his parent's memory, he brings immeasurable honor to the parent's soul in the afterlife. Therefore, as important as it of course is to recite Kaddish for a deceased parent, it is even more important to devote time to learn Torah in the parent's memory, as this is the greatest thing one can do for a deceased parent's soul. Many parents, understandably, are troubled by the exorbitant cost of Torah education. However, while the problem is real, and should be addressed, at the same time, we must maintain a proper perspective and realize that no matter how much money parents pay for their children to receive a Torah education, the dividends are infinitely greater. There is no price tag that one can place on eternal life in Gan Eden, and being spared the punishments of Gehinam. By providing their children with a proper religious education, parents ensure that their children will recite Kaddish and learn Torah in their memory, thereby guaranteeing their place in Gan Eden for all eternity – and we can all agree that there is no price too high for that.

Chazal tell us that when Mashiach arrives there will be a magnificent seudah known as the Seudat HaLeviathan. At that great meal will be present all the righteous who ever lived—Avraham, Yitzchak and Yaakov, Moshe and Aharon, together with the great leaders and tzaddikim of all generations. At that seudah, David HaMelech will rise and lead Birkat HaMazon. Afterward, the Ramami Pano writes that Mashiach Tzidkeinu will come out and distribute dessert to everyone present. Those desserts will consist of the fruits that have been growing in Gan Eden since the creation of the world. Originally, Hashem commanded Adam HaRishon to eat from the fruits of Gan Eden, but he was banished before he had the opportunity to do so. Since that time, fruits have been growing in the lower Gan Eden that exists in this world, and they will be distributed to all of Klal Yisrael after Birkat HaMazon at that seudah. Then Mashiach will take out almonds that had been growing on the staff of Aharon HaKohen in the Kodesh HaKodashim and he will make the berachah of boreh peri ha'etz upon them. It is known that almonds have the ability to calm a person from anger. At that moment, all the tension and pain that accumulated during the long exile will instantly disappear. Then Moshe Rabbeinu will appear holding the original Luchot that we were meant to receive. In their merit the knowledge of Torah will reach an unprecedented level. Torah will never again be forgotten. The yetzer hara will be nullified and the malach hamavet will be driven away forever. Those will be the most glorious days in the history of the world. After a period of time living in the era of Mashiach, the next stage—Olam Haba—will begin. The Gemara in Masechet Berachot teaches that in that world there will be no eating and no drinking. Rather, the tzaddikim will sit and derive pleasure from the radiance of the Shechinah. The Or HaChayim writes in Shemot that there is no pleasure in this world that can compare to the pleasure of seeing the Shechinah in the next world. Every Jew longs to merit that experience. Our rabbis explain that just as in order to enjoy food in this world our mouth and throat must function properly, so too in order to experience the spiritual pleasure of the Shechinah, the part of the body through which that pleasure is received must also be spiritually refined. That part of the body is the eyes—the windows to the neshamah. The pasuk in Yeshayahu says: עֹצֵם עֵינָיו מֵרְאוֹת בְּרָע מֶלֶךְ בְּיָפְיוֹ תֶּחֱזֶינָה עֵינֶיךָ "One who closes his eyes from seeing evil—his eyes will behold the King in His beauty." The Midrash explains that this pasuk means that whoever guards his eyes from looking at improper things will merit to see the beauty of the Shechinah. The Gemara in Masechet Kallah teaches that someone who turns away from such aveirot—even if he is an ordinary Yisrael—becomes worthy like a Kohen Gadol offering a korban olah on the mizbeach, and he will merit to benefit from the radiance of the Shechinah like the malachei hasharet. One of the ways of Hashem is that when He wishes to elevate a person to an especially high level, He first gives him a very great test to overcome. For nearly two thousand years the world has been waiting for the rebuilding of the Beit HaMikdash. For generations we have waited for the coming of Mashiach. Now, as we approach the month of Nisan—the time most auspicious for redemption—we are being tested with our eyes more than ever before. Perhaps this is Hashem's call for us to elevate ourselves to greatness and to make our eyes worthy of receiving the ultimate pleasure of basking in the radiance of the Shechinah. Now is our opportunity to shine. If we can guard our own eyes and guide our children away from seeing things they should not see, we can become elevated to the level of the Kohen Gadol. With Hashem's help we will then merit the ultimate reward—our eyes beholding the radiance of the Shechinah for all eternity.

Study Guide The Mishna discusses the classification of the various meal offerings based on their components, examining which offerings require both oil and frankincense, which require only one of them, and which require neither. To clarify the source of these laws, the Gemara cites a braita that derives the various cases where oil, frankincense, or both are excluded from the verses concerning the Omer offering (the meal offering of the first fruits). During the analysis of the braita, the Gemara analyzes the choice of exclusions and questions why the Midrash focused specifically on the cases mentioned in the braita rather than excluding the law of the Priestly meal offering (minchat kohanim) instead. The Mishna rules that one who adds both oil and frankincense to a sinner's meal offering transgresses two negative prohibitions. However, there is a difference between adding oil and frankincense. If one adds oil, the offering is disqualified as it cannot be removed, but if one adds frankincense, it is not disqualified as it can be removed. Rav bar Rav Huna asks about frankincense that is crushed into small pieces that cannot be removed: is the offering disqualified, as it would be with oil, or is the issue with oil specifically that it is absorbed, whereas this frankincense is not absorbed into the mincha? Three attempts are brought to answer the question. After rejecting the first two, the third leads to the conclusion that it is disqualified.

The Torah is incredibly strict about what goes into its holiest sanctuary, which is why one bizarre detail in Exodus chapter 38 makes absolutely no sense. In the inventory of materials used to build the Mishkan, the Torah accounts for the weight and value of all the gold, silver, copper, wood, and linen material used. It's very clinical, with no reference to significance or context. There is one striking exception. Exodus 38:8 tells us that the priestly washing basin was made "from the mirrors of the women who gathered at the entrance of the Tent of Meeting." Why does the Torah suddenly reveal the provenance of this one object? Who were these women—and what were they doing there? In this episode of Madlik Disruptive Torah, Geoffrey Stern and Rabbi Adam Mintz explore how a single enigmatic verse sparked generations of interpretation. Key Takeaways The Holiest Objects May Come from the Least Holy Places A Tiny Detail Can Create a Whole Tradition A Mirror Is the Perfect Metaphor for Interpretation Timestamps [00:00] Mirrors in the Mishkan [00:56] Meet the Hosts [01:36] Podcast Intro [02:51] Reading Exodus 38 [04:48] Women at the Tent [07:40] Rashi's Famous Midrash [13:01] Word Study on Mirrors [14:32] Sponsor Break [15:45] Eli's Sons and Innuendo [19:22] Scholars Offer Explanations [22:43] Egyptian Mirrors and Fertility [26:02] Repurposing Pagan Objects [26:42] Cassuto and Poetic Memory [29:39] Found Object Theology [31:26] Modern Fertility Sculpture [32:52] Wrap Up and Farewell Links & Learnings Sign up for free and get more from our weekly newsletter https://madlik.com/ Sefaria Source Sheet: https://voices.sefaria.org/sheets/713285 Transcript here: https://madlik.substack.com/  

The Zohar HaKadosh writes in Parashat Vayakhel that people do not realize how powerful tefillah really is. Tefillah has the ability to pierce through the heavens and open gates that previously could not be opened. Rabbeinu Bachya writes in Parashat Ekev that tefillah has the ability to change nature, to save a person from danger, and to nullify harsh decrees. The Maharsha writes in Masechet Shabbat ( דף קנ״א ע״ב ) that even though Chazal say a person's lifespan, number of children, and parnasah depend on mazal, tefillah has the power to change mazal. When a person prays during an et ratzon, a time of divine favor, the tefillah becomes even more powerful. David HaMelech asked Hashem that his prayers should reach Him during such a time, as it says: ואני תפילתי לך ה׳ עת רצון . The Midrash asks regarding the pasuk that says Eliezer ran toward Rivka: why was he running so quickly? It answers that once Eliezer realized he was experiencing an et ratzon, because Hashem had already performed a miracle for him by shortening the journey, he hurried to take advantage of that special moment and seek even more heavenly assistance. Rashi writes in Parashat Ki Tisa that when Moshe Rabbeinu saw that his requests were being answered, he understood that it was an et ratzon. He therefore continued asking for more in order to gain the greatest benefit from that special time. The Bnei Yissaschar writes that there are angels appointed in Shamayim to bring our tefillot upward, and they examine the prayers to determine if they are worthy. However, during an et ratzon the tefillot do not require their assistance. They ascend directly without scrutiny. The Mashgiach, Rav Yechezkel Levenstein, said that there is no greater et ratzon in Shamayim than when a person overcomes his yetzer hara. This means a person can actually create his own et ratzon and then use it to ask Hashem for whatever he needs. For example, if a person feels a strong yetzer hara to look at something inappropriate and overcomes it, he should realize that at that moment he has created an et ratzon. We have heard many stories about people who were publicly humiliated but chose not to respond and instead gave a blessing to a person in need of salvation. And those blessings brought about salvations. Why does this work? One explanation is that when a person is humiliated, the yetzer hara strongly pushes him to respond with anger. If he overcomes that impulse, he creates such a powerful et ratzon that his tefillot and blessings become especially potent. People are constantly tested—through anger, jealousy, and many other challenges. If we can motivate ourselves to overcome those tests, we can create moments of divine favor that we can then use to pray for what we need. The Keter Shem Tov brings from the Baal Shem Tov that when a person truly feels pain for another person's suffering, that creates an et ratzon. Even greater than that is when a person can genuinely feel happy when another person experiences success. And even greater still is when two people both need a salvation and one receives it while the other does not. If instead of complaining and asking why he was not helped, the person can feel sincere happiness for the other's simchah, that creates an extremely powerful et ratzon. At that moment he can pour out his heart to Hashem and ask for what he needs. Tefillah is always powerful, but during an et ratzon it becomes even more powerful.

Can self-reflection become a path to holiness? In this episode, Zvi Hirschfield and Rabbanit Nechama Goldman Barash explore Parshat Vayakhel–Pekudei through a striking detail of the Mishkan: the women's mirrors used to create the basin for the priests. Drawing on Midrash and interpretation, they reflect on how mirrors symbolize self-awareness and identity—reminding us that serving God begins with knowing who we are. The conversation asks how self-reflection, relationships, and moral intention can transform ordinary human awareness into sacred service.

Why did Moses smash the tablets and why were the broken pieces placed in the Holy of Holies alongside the whole ones? In this heart-open class, Rabbi Yisroel Bernath explores one of the most powerful and surprising teachings in Torah: that brokenness is not the opposite of holiness, it can be its doorway. Drawing on the story of the Golden Calf, the teachings of the Talmud, Midrash, and the Lubavitcher Rebbe, this class reveals how Judaism embraces both the “whole tablets” and the “broken tablets” of our lives. Together we explore how pain, setbacks, doubt, and struggle can become catalysts for deeper connection, compassion, and spiritual growth. The message is both radical and comforting: the fragments of our lives may contain the deepest light.Key TakeawaysHoliness is not limited to moments of perfection; it can emerge from our struggles and broken experiences.The broken tablets in the Ark teach that failure and fracture still belong in the sacred space of our lives.Sometimes our deepest connection to G-d happens not when we feel strong, but when we feel vulnerable and searching.Brokenness can soften our hearts and deepen our compassion for others.The Torah teaches that new wisdom and deeper growth often emerge after moments of spiritual collapse.Our lives contain both “whole tablets” and “broken tablets” and both are part of the sacred journey.#Judaism #Kabbalah #Jewish #BrokenTablets #Moses #GoldenCalf #JewishWisdom #spiritualgrowth #JewishInspiration #FaithInStruggle #TorahInsights #chassidus #personalgrowth #healing #resilience #MeaningInSuffering #RabbiBernath #JewishNDG #TorahClass Available now:Paperback: https://www.amazon.com/Forgiveness-Experiment-What-Would-Your/dp/1069217638Kindle: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0FR2QNJL6Audiobook: https://bit.ly/4tPFZhVSupport the showGot your own question for Rabbi Bernath? He can be reached at rabbi@jewishndg.com or http://www.theloverabbi.comSingle? You can make a profile on www.JMontreal.com and Rabbi Bernath will help you find that special someone.Donate and support Rabbi Bernath's work http://www.jewishndg.com/donateFollow Rabbi Bernath's YouTube Channel https://www.youtube.com/user/ybernathAccess Rabbi Bernath's Articles on Relationships https://medium.com/@loverabbi

How do you build a creative life that spans music, writing, film, and spiritual practice? Alicia Jo Rabins talks about weaving multiple creative strands into a sustainable career and why the best advice for any creator might simply be: just make the thing. In the intro, backlist promotion strategy [Written Word Media]; Successful author business [Novel Marketing Podcast]; Alliance of Independent Authors Indie Author Bookstore; Bones of the Deep – J.F. Penn This podcast is sponsored by Kobo Writing Life, which helps authors self-publish and reach readers in global markets through the Kobo eco-system. You can also subscribe to the Kobo Writing Life podcast for interviews with successful indie authors. This show is also supported by my Patrons. Join my Community at Patreon.com/thecreativepenn Alicia Jo Rabins is an award-winning writer, musician, performer, as well as a Torah teacher and ritualist. She's the creator of Girls In Trouble, a feminist indie-folk song cycle about biblical women, and the award-winning film, A Kaddish for Bernie Madoff. Her latest book is a memoir, When We Are Born We Forget Everything. You can listen above or on your favorite podcast app or read the notes and links below. Here are the highlights, and the full transcript is below. Show Notes Building a sustainable multi-disciplinary creative career through teaching, performance, grants, and donations Trusting instinct in the early generative stages of creativity and separating generation from editing Adapting and reimagining religious and cultural source material through music, writing, and performance The challenges of transitioning from poetry to long-form prose memoir, including choosing a lens for your story Making an independent film on a shoestring budget without waiting for Hollywood's permission Finding your creative voice and building confidence by leaning into vulnerability and returning to the practice of making You can find Alicia at AliciaJo.com. Transcript of the interview with Alicia Jo Rabins Joanna: Alicia Jo Rabins is an award-winning writer, musician, performer, as well as a Torah teacher and ritualist. She's the creator of Girls In Trouble, a feminist indie-folk song cycle about biblical women, and the award-winning film, A Kaddish for Bernie Madoff. Her latest book is a memoir, When We Are Born We Forget Everything. So welcome to the show, Alicia. Alicia: Thank you so much. I'm delighted to be here. Joanna: There is so much we could talk about. But first up— Tell us a bit more about you and how you've woven so many strands of creativity into your life and career. Alicia: Yes, well, I am a maximalist. What happened in terms of my early life is that I started writing on my own, just extremely young. I'm one of those people who always loved writing, always processed the world and managed my emotions and came to understand myself through writing. So from a very young age, I felt really committed to writing. Then I had the good fortune that my mother saw a talk show about the Suzuki method of learning violin—when you start really young and learn by ear, which is modelled after language learning. It's so much less intellectual and much more instinctual, learning by copying. She was like, that looks like a cool thing. I was three years old at the time and she found out that there was a little local branch of our music conservatory that had a Suzuki violin programme. So when I was three and a half, getting close to four, she took me down and I started playing an extremely tiny violin. Joanna: Oh, cute! Alicia: Yes, and because it was part of this conservatory that was downtown, and we were just starting at the suburban branch where we lived, there was this path that I was able to follow. As I got more and more interested in violin, I could continue basically up through the conservatory level during high school. So I had a really fantastic music education without any pressure, without any expectations or professional goals. I just kept taking these classes and one thing led to another. I grew up being very immersed in both creative writing and music, and I think just having the gift of those two parts of my brain trained and stimulated and delighted so young really changed my brain in some ways. I'll always see the world through this creative lens, which I think I'm also just set up to do personally. Then the last step of my multi-practice career is that in college I got very interested in Jewish spirituality. I'm Jewish, but I didn't grow up very religious. I didn't grow up in a Jewish community really. So I knew some basics, but not a ton. In college I started to study it and also informally learned from other people I met. I ended up going on a pretty intense spiritual quest, going to Jerusalem and immersing myself after college for two years in traditional Jewish study and practice. So that became the third strand of the braid that had already been started with music and writing. Torah study, spiritual study, and teaching became the third, and they all interweave. The last thing I'll say is that because I work in both words and music, and naturally performance because of music, it began to branch a little bit into plays, theatre, and film, just because that's where the intersection of words, performance, and music is. So that's really what brought me into that, as opposed to any specific desire to work in film. It all happened very organically. Joanna: I love this. This is so cool. We are going to circle back to a lot of this, but I have to ask you— What about work for money at any point? How did this turn into more than just hobbies and lifestyle? Alicia: Yes, absolutely. Well, I'm very fortunate that I did not graduate college with loans because my parents were able to pay for college. That was a big privilege that I just want to name, because in the States that's often not the case. So that allowed me to need to support myself, but not also pay loans, which was a real gift. What happened was I went straight from college to that school in Jerusalem, and there I was on loans and scholarship, so I didn't have to worry yet about supporting myself. Then when I came back to the States, I actually found on Craigslist a job teaching remedial Hebrew. It was essentially teaching kids at a Jewish elementary school who either had learning differences or had just entered the school late and needed to be in a different Hebrew class than the other kids in their grade. That was my first experience of really teaching, and I just absolutely fell in love with it. Although in the end, my passion is much more for teaching the text and rituals and the wrestling with the concepts, as opposed to teaching language. So all these years, while doing performance and writing and all these things, I have been teaching Jewish studies. That has essentially supported me, I would say, between 50 and 70 per cent. Then the rest has been paid gigs as a musician, whether as a front person leading a project or as what we call a sideman, playing in someone else's band. Sometimes doing theatre performances, sometimes teaching workshops. That's how I've cobbled it together. I have not had a full-time job all these years and I have supported myself through both earned income and also grants and donations. I've really tried to cultivate a little bit of a donor base, and I took some workshops early on about how to welcome donations. So I definitely try to always welcome that as well. Joanna: That is so interesting that you took a workshop on how to welcome donations. Way back in, I think 2013, I said on this show, I just don't know if I can accept people giving to support the show. Then someone on the podcast challenged me and said, but people want to support creatives. That's when I started Patreon in 2014. It was when The Art of Asking by Amanda Palmer came out and— It was this realisation that people do want to support people. So I love that you said that. Alicia: It's not easy. It's still not easy for me, and I have to grit my teeth every time I even put in my end-of-year newsletter. I just say, just a reminder that part of what makes this possible is your generous donations, and I'm so grateful to you. It's not easy. I think some people enjoy fundraising. I certainly don't instinctively enjoy it, but I have learned to think of it exactly the way that you're saying. I mean, I love donating to support other people's projects. Sometimes it's the highlight of my day. If I'm having a bad day and someone asks for help, either to feed a family or to complete a creative project, I just feel like, okay, at least I can give $36 or $25 and feel like I did something positive in the last hour, even if my project is going terribly and I'm in a fight with my kid or something. So I have to keep in mind that it is actually a privilege to give as well as a privilege to receive. Joanna: Absolutely. So let's get back into your various creative projects. The first thing I wanted to ask you, because you do have so many different formats and forms of your creativity—how do you know when an idea that comes to you should be a song, or something you want to do as a performance, or written, or a film? Tell us a bit about your creative process. Because a lot of your projects are also longer-term. Alicia: Yes. It's funny, I love planning and in some ways I'm an extreme planner. I really drive people in my family bonkers with planning, like family vacations a year in advance. In terms of my creativity, I'm very planful towards goals, but in that early generative state, I am actually pure instinct. I don't think I ever sit down and say, “I have this idea, which genre would it match with?” It's more like I sit on my bed and pick up my guitar, which is where I love to do songwriting, just sitting on my bed cross-legged, and I pick up my guitar and something starts coming out. Then I just work with that kernel. So it's very nebulous at first, very innate, and I just follow that creative spirit. Often I don't even know what a project is, sometimes if it's a larger project, until a year or two in. Once things emerge and take shape, then my planning brain and my strategy brain can jump on it and say, “Okay, we need three more songs to fill out the album, and we need to plan the fundraising and the scheduling.” Then I might take more of an outside-in approach. At the beginning it's just all instinct. Joanna: So if you pick up your guitar, does that mean it always starts in music and then goes into writing? Or is that you only pick up a guitar if it's going to be musical? Alicia: I think I'm responding to what's inside me. It's almost like a need, as opposed to, “I'm going to sit down and work.” I mean, obviously I sit down and work a lot, but I think in that early stage of anything, it's more like my fingers are itching to play something, and so I sit down and pick up my guitar. Sometimes nothing comes out and sometimes the kernel of a song comes out. Or I'm at a café, and I often like to write when I'm feeling a little bit discombobulated, just to go into the complexity of things or use challenging emotions as fuel. I really do use it as a—I don't know if therapeutic is the word, but I think it maybe is. I write often, as I always have, as I said before, to understand what I'm thinking. Like Joan Didion said—to process difficult emotions, to let go of stuck places. So I think I create almost more out of a sense of just what I need in the moment. Sometimes it's just for fun. Sometimes picking up a guitar, I just have a moment so I sit down and mess around. Sometimes it's to help me struggle with something. It doesn't always start in music. That was a random example. I might sit down to write because I have an hour and I think, I haven't written in a while. Or I do have an informal daily writing thing where I'll try to generate one loose draft of something a day, even if it's only ten pages. I mean, sorry, ten words. Joanna: I was going to say! Alicia: No, no. Ten words. I'm sorry. It's often poetry, so it feels like a lot when it's ten words. I'll just sit down with no pressure, no goal, no intention to make anything specific. Just open the floodgates and see what comes out. That's where every single project of mine has started. Joanna: Yes, I do love that. Obviously, I'm a discovery writer and intuitive, same as you. I think very much this idea of, especially when you said you feel discombobulated, that's when you write. I almost feel like I need that. I'm not someone who writes every day. I don't do ten lines or whatever. It's that I'll feel that sense of pressure building up into “this is going to be something.” I will really only write or journal when that spills over into— “I now need to write and figure out what this is.” Alicia: Yes. It's almost a form of hunger. It feels to me similar to when you eat a great meal and then you're good for a while. You're not really thinking of it, and then it builds up, like you said, and then there's a need—at least the first half of creativity. I really separate my generation and my editing. So my generative practice is all openness, no critique, just this maybe therapeutic, maybe curious, wandering and seeing what happens. Then once I have a draft, my incisive editing mind is welcome back in, which has been shut out from that early process. So that's a really different experience. Those early stages of creativity are almost out of need more than obligation. Joanna: Well, just staying with that generative practice. Obviously you've mentioned your study of and practice of Jewish tradition and Jewish spirituality. Steven Pressfield in his books has talked about his prayer to the muse, and I've got on my wall here—I don't talk about this very often, actually — I have a muse picture, a painting of what I think of as a muse spirit in some form. So do you have any spiritual practices around your generative practice and that phase of coming up with ideas? Alicia: I love that question, and I wish I had a beautiful, intentional answer. My answer is no. I think I experience creativity as its own spiritual practice itself. I do love individual prayer and meditation and things like that, but for me those are more to address my specifically spiritual health and happiness and connectedness. I'm just a dive-in kind of person. As a musician, I have friends who have elaborate backstage rituals. I have to do certain things to take care of my voice, but even that, it's mostly vocal rest as opposed to actively doing things. There's a bit of an on/off switch for me. Joanna: That's interesting. Well, I do want to ask you about one of your projects, this collaboration with a high school on a musical performance, I Was a Desert: Songs of the Matriarchs, and also your Girls in Trouble songs about women in the Torah. On your website, I had a look at the school, the high school, and the musical performance. It was extraordinary. I was watching you in the school there and it's just such extraordinary work. It very much inspired me—not to do it myself, but it was just so wonderful. I do urge people to go to your website and just watch a few minutes of it. I'm inspired by elements of religion, Christian and Jewish, but I wondered if you've come up against any issues with adaptation—respecting your heritage but also reinventing it. How has this gone for you. Any advice for people who want to incorporate aspects of religion they love but are worried about responses? Alicia: Well, I have to say, coming from the Jewish tradition, that is a core practice of Judaism—reinterpreting our texts and traditions, wrestling with them, arguing with them, reimagining them. I don't know if you're familiar with Midrash, but just in case some of your listeners aren't sure I'll explain it. There's essentially an ancient form of fanfic called Midrash, which was the ancient rabbis, and we still do it today, taking a biblical story that seems to have some kind of gap or inconsistency or question in it and writing a story to fill that gap or recast the story in an interestingly different light. So we have this whole body of literature over thousands of years that are these alternate or added-on adventures, side quests of the biblical characters. What I'm doing from a Jewish perspective is very much in line with a traditional way of interacting with text. I've certainly never gotten any pushback, especially as I work in progressive Jewish communities. I think if I were in an extremely fundamentalist community, there would be a lot of different issues around gender and things like that. The interpretive process, even in those communities, is part of how we show respect for the text. When I was working with the high school—and I just want to call out the choir director, Ethan Chen, who has an incredible project where he brings in a different artist every two years to work with the choir, and they tend to have a different cultural focus each time. He invited me specifically to integrate my songwriting about biblical women with his amazing high school choir. I was really worried at first because most of them are not Jewish—very few of them, if any. I wanted to respect their spiritual paths and their religious heritages and not impose mine on them. So I spent a lot of time at the beginning saying, this project has religious source material, but essentially it is a creative reinterpretive project. I am not coming to you to bring the religious material to you. I'm coming to take the shared Hebrew Bible myths and then reinterpret those myths through a lens of how they might reflect our own personal struggles, because that's always my approach to these ancient stories. I wanted to really make that clear to the students. It was such a joy to work with them. Joanna: It's such an interesting project. Also, I find with musicians in general this idea of performance. You've written this thing—or this thing specifically with the school—and it doesn't exist again, right? You're not selling CDs of that, I presume. Whereas compared to a book, when we write a book, we can sell it forever. It doesn't exist as a performance generally for an author of a memoir or a novel. It carries on existing. So how does that feel, the performance idea versus the longer-lasting thing? I mean, I guess the video's there, but the performance itself happened. Alicia: I do know what you mean. Absolutely. We did, for that reason, record it professionally. We had the sound person record it and mix it, so it is available to stream. I'm not selling CDs, but it's out there on all the streaming services, if people want to listen. I do also have the scores, so if a choir wanted to sing it. The main point that you're making is so true. I think there's actually something very sacred about live performance—that we're all in the moment together and then the moment is over. I love the artefacts of the writing life. I love writing books. I love buying and reading books and having them around, and there's piles of them everywhere in this room I'm standing in. I feel like being on stage, or even teaching, is a very spiritual practice for me, because it's in some ways the most in-the-moment I ever am. The only thing that matters is what's happening right then in that room. It's fleeting as it goes. I'm working with the energy in the room while we're there. It's different every time because I'm different, the atmosphere is different, the people are different. There's no way to plan it. The kind of micro precision that we all try to bring to our editing—you can't do that. You can practice all you want and you should, but in the moment, who knows? A string breaks or there's loud sound coming from the other room. It is just one of those things. I love being reminded over and over again of the truth that we really don't control what happens. The best that we can do is ride it, surf it, be in it, appreciate it, and then let it go. Joanna: I think maybe I get a glimpse of that when I speak professionally, but I'm far more in control in that situation than I guess you were with—I don't know how many—was it a hundred kids in that choir? It looked pretty big. Alicia: It was amazing. It was 130 kids. Yes. Joanna: 130 kids! I mean, it was magic listening to it. And yes, of course, showing my age there with buying a CD, aren't I? Alicia: Well, I do still sell some CDs of Girls in Trouble on tour, because I have a bunch of them and people still buy them. I'm always so grateful because it was an easier life for touring musicians when we could just bring CDs. Now we have to be very creative about our merch. Joanna: Yes, that's a good point because people are like, “Oh yes, I'll scan your QR code and stream it,” but you might not get the money for that for ages, and it might just be five cents or whatever. Alicia: Streaming is terrible for live musicians. I mean, I don't know if you know the site Bandcamp, but it's essentially self-publishing for musicians. Bandcamp is a great way around that, and a lot of independent musicians use it because that's a place you can upload your music and people can pay $8 for an album. They can stream it on there if they want, or they can download it and have it. But, yes, it's hard out there for touring musicians. Joanna: Yes, for sure. Well, let's come to the book then. Your memoir, When We Are Born We Forget Everything. Tell us about some of the challenges of a book as opposed to these other types of performances. Alicia: Well, I come out of poetry, so that was my first love. That's what I majored in in college. That's what my MFA is in. Poetry is famously short, and I'm not one of those long-form poets. I have been trained for many years to think in terms of a one-page arc, if at all. Arc isn't even really a word that we use in poetry. So to write a full-length prose book was really an incredible education. Writing it basically took ten years from writing to publication, so probably seven years of writing and editing. I felt like there was an MFA-equivalent process in the number of classes I took, books I read, and work that went into it. So that was one of my main joys and challenges, really learning on the job to write long-form prose coming out of poetry. How to keep the engine going, how to think about ending one chapter in a way that leaves you with some torque or momentum so that you want to go into the next chapter. How many characters is too many? Who gets names and who doesn't? Some of these things that are probably pretty basic for fiction writers were all very new to me. That was a big part of my process. Then, of course, poets don't usually have agents. So once it was done, I began to query agents. It was the normal sort of 39 rejections and then one agent who really understood what I was trying to do. She's incredible, and she was able to sell the book. The longevity of just working on something for that long—I have a lot of joy in that longevity—but it does sometimes feel like, is this ever going to happen, or am I on a fool's errand? Joanna: I guess, again, the difference with performance is you have a date for the performance and it's done then. I suppose once you get a contract, then for sure it has to be done. But memoir in particular, you do have to set boundaries, because of course your life continues, doesn't it? So what were the challenges in curating what went into the book? Because many people listening know memoir is very challenging in terms of how personal it can be. Alicia: Yes, and one thing I think is so fascinating about memoir is choosing which lens to put on your story, on your own story. I heard early on that the difference between autobiography and memoir is that autobiography tries to give a really comprehensive view of a life, and memoir is choosing one lens and telling the story of a life through that lens, which is such a beautiful creative concept. I knew early on that I wanted this to be primarily a spiritual memoir, and also somewhat of an artistic memoir, because my creativity and my spirituality are so intertwined. It started off being spiritual, and also about my musical life, and also about my writing life. In the end, I edited out the part about my writing life, because writing about writing was just too navel-gazing. So there's nothing in there about me coming of age as a writer, which used to be in there, but that whole thing got taken out. Now it's spiritual and musical. For me, it really helped to start with those focuses, because I knew there may be things that were hugely important in my life, absolutely foundational, that were not really going to be either mentioned or gone deeply into in the book. For example, my husband teases me a lot about how few pages and words he gets. He's very important in my life, but I actually met him when I was 29, and this book really mainly takes place in the years leading up to that. There's a little bit of winding down in the first few years of my thirties, but this is not a book about my life with him. He is mentioned in it. That story is in there. Having those kinds of limitations around the canvas—there's a quote, I forget if it was Miranda July, but somebody said something like, basically when you put a limitation on your project, that's when it starts to be a work of art. Whatever it is, if you say, “I'm taking this canvas and I'm using these colours,” that's when it really begins, that initial limitation. That was very helpful. Joanna: It's also the beauty of memoir, because of course you can write different memoirs at different times. You can write something about your writing life. You can write something else about your marriage and your family later on. That doesn't all have to be in one book. I think that's actually something I found interesting. And I would also say in my memoir, Pilgrimage, my husband is barely mentioned either. Alicia: Does he tease you too? Joanna: No, I think he's grateful. He is grateful for the privacy. Alicia: That's why I keep saying, you should be grateful! Joanna: Yes. You really should. Like, maybe stop talking now. Alicia: Yes, exactly. I know. Marriage, memoir—those words should strike fear into his heart. Joanna: They definitely should. But let's just come back. When I look at your career— You just seem such an independent creative, and so I wondered why you decided to work with a traditional publisher instead of being an independent. How are you finding it as someone who's not in charge of everything? Alicia: It's a great question. The origin story for this memoir is that I was actually reading poetry at a writing conference called Bread Loaf in the States. This was 16 years ago or something. I was giving a poetry reading and afterwards an agent, not my agent, came up to me and said, you know, you have a voice. You should try writing nonfiction because you could probably sell it. Back to your question about how I support myself, I am always really hustling to make a living. It's not like I have some separate well-paying job and the writing has no pressure on it. So my ears kind of perked up. I thought, wait, getting paid for writing? Because poetry is literally not in the world. It's just not a concept for poets. That's not why we write and it's not a possibility. So a little light turned on in my brain. I thought, wow, that could be a really interesting element to add to my income stream, and it would be flexible and it would be meaningful. For a few years I thought, what nonfiction could I write? And I came up with the idea of writing a book about biblical women from a more scholarly perspective, because I teach that material and I've studied it. I went to speak to another agent and she said, well, you could do that, but if you actually want to sell a book, it's going to have to be more of a trade book. So if you don't want an academic press, which wouldn't pay very much, you would have to have some kind of memoir-like stories in there to just sweeten it so it doesn't feel academic. So then I began writing a little bit of spiritual memoir. I thought, okay, well, I'll write about a few moments. Then once I started writing, I couldn't stop. The floodgates really opened. That's how it ended up being a spiritual memoir with interwoven stories of biblical women. It became a hybrid in that sense. I knew from the beginning that this project—for all my saying earlier that I never plan anything and only work on instinct, I was thinking as I said that, that cannot be true. This time, I actually thought, what if, instead of coming from this pure, heart-focused place of poetry, I began writing with the intention of potentially selling a book? The way my fiction writer friends talked about selling their books. So that was always in my mind. I knew I would continue writing poetry, continue publishing with small presses, continue putting my own music out there independently, but this was a bit of an experiment. What if I try to interface with the publishing world, in part for financial sustainability? And because I had a full draft before I queried, I never felt like anyone was telling me what to write. I can't imagine personally selling a book on proposal, because I do need that full capacity to just swerve, change directions, be responsive to what the project is teaching me. I can't imagine promising that I'll write something, because I never know what I'll write. But writing at least a very solid draft first, I'm always delighted to get notes and make polish and rewrite and make things better. I took care of that freedom in the first seven years of writing and then I interfaced with the agent and publisher. Joanna: I was going to say, given that it's taken you seven to ten years to do this and I can't imagine that you're suddenly a multimillionaire from this book. It probably hasn't fulfilled the hourly rate that perhaps you were thinking of in terms of being paid for your work. I think some people think that everyone's going to end up with the massive book deal that pays for the rest of their life. I guess this book does just fit into the rest of your portfolio career. Alicia: Yes. One of the benefits of these long arcs that I like to work on is, one of them—and probably the primary one—is that the project gets to unfold on its own time. I don't think I could have rushed it if I wanted. The other is that it never really stopped me from doing any of my other work. Joanna: Mm-hmm. Alicia: So it's not like, oh, I gave up months of my life and all I got was this advance or something. It's like, I was living my life and then when I had a little bit of writing time—and I will say, it impacted my poetry. I haven't written as much poetry because I was working on this. So it wasn't like I just added it on top of everything I was already doing, but it was a pleasure to just switch to prose for a while. It was just woven into my life. I appreciated having this side project where no one was waiting for it. There were no deadlines, there was no stress around it, because I always have performances to promote and due dates for all kinds of work. It was just this really lovely arena of slow growth and play. When I wanted a reader, I could do a swap with a writer friend, but no one was ever waiting for it on deadline. So there's actually a lot of pleasure in that. Then I will say, I think I've made more from selling this than my poetry. Probably close to ten times more than I've ever made from any of my poetry. So on a poetry scale, it's certainly not going to pay for my life, but it actually does make a true financial difference in a way that much of my other work is a little more bit by bit by bit. It's actually a different scale. Joanna: Well, that's really good. I'm glad to hear that. I also want to ask you, because you've done so many things, and— I'm fascinated by your independent film, A Kaddish for Bernie Madoff. I have only watched the trailer. You are in it, you wrote it, directed it, and it's also obviously got other people in, and it's fascinating. It's about this particular point in history. I've written quite a lot of screenplay adaptations of my novels, and I've had some various amounts of interest, but the whole film industry to me is just a complete nightmare, far bigger nightmare than the book industry. So I wonder if you could maybe talk about this, because it just seems like you made a film, which is so cool. Alicia: Oh yes, thank you. Joanna: And it won awards, yes, we should say. Alicia: Did we win awards? Yes. It really, for an extremely low-budget indie film, went far further than my team and I could ever have imagined. I will say I never intended to make a film. Like most of the best things in my life, it really happened by accident. When I was living in New York— I lived there for many years—the 2008 financial collapse happened and I happened to have an arts grant that gave a bunch of artists workspace, studio space, in essentially an abandoned building in the financial district. It was an empty floor of a building. The floor had been left by the previous tenant, and there's a nonprofit that takes unused real estate in the financial district and lets artists work in it for a while. So I was on Wall Street, which was very rare for me, but for this year I was working on Wall Street. Even though I was working on poems, the financial collapse happened around me, and I did get inspired by that to create a one-woman show, which was more of a theatre show. That was already a huge leap for me because I had no real theatre experience, but it was experimental and growing out of my poetry practice and my music. It was a musical one-woman show about the financial collapse from a spiritual perspective, apparently. So I performed that. I documented it, and then a friend who lives in Portland, Oregon, where I now live, said, “I'm a theatre producer, I'd like to produce it here.” So then I rewrote it and did a run here in Portland of that show. Essentially, I started to tour it a little bit, but I got tired of it. It was too much work and it never really paid very much, and I thought, this is impacting my life negatively. I just want to do a really good documentation of the show. So I wanted to hire a theatre documentarian to just document the show so that it didn't disappear, like you were saying before about live performance. But one of the people I talked to actually ended up being an artistic filmmaker, as opposed to a documentarian. She watched the archival footage, just a single camera of the show, and said, “I don't think you should do this again and film it with three cameras. I think you should make it into a feature film. And in fact, I think maybe I should direct it, because there's all this music in it and I also direct music videos.” We had this kind of mind meld. Joanna: Mm. Alicia: I never intended to make a film, but she is a visionary director and I had this piece of IP essentially, and all the music and the writing. We adapted it together. We did it here in Portland. We did all the fundraising ourselves. We did not interface with Hollywood really. I think that would be, I just can't imagine. I love Hollywood, but I'm not really connected, and I can't imagine waiting for someone to give us permission or a green light to make this. It was experimental and indie, so we just really did it on the cheap. We had an amazing producer who helped us figure out how to do it with the budget that we had. We worked really hard fundraising, crowdfunding, asking for donations, having parties to raise money, and then we just did it and put it out there. I think my main advice—and I hear this a lot on screenwriting podcasts—is just make the thing. Make something, as opposed to trying to get permission to make something. Because unless you're already in that system, it's going to be really hard to get permission to make it. Once you make something, that leads to something else, which leads to something else. So even if it's a very short thing, or even if it's filmed on your phone, just actually make the thing. That turned out to be the right thing for us. Joanna: Yes, I mean, I feel like that is what underpins us as independent creatives in general. As an independent author, I feel the same way. I'm never asking permission to put a book in the world. No, thank you. Alicia: Exactly. We have a vision and we do it. It's harder in some ways, but that liberation of being able to really fully create our vision without having to compromise it or wait for permission, I think it's such a beautiful thing. Joanna: Well, we're almost out of time, but I do want to ask you about creative confidence. Alicia: Hmm. Joanna: I feel I'm getting a lot of sense about this at the moment, with all the AI stuff that's happening. When you've been creating a long time, like you and I have, we know our voice and we can lean into our voice. We are creatively confident. We'll fail a lot, but we'll just push on and try things and see what happens. Newer creators are struggling with this kind of confidence. How do I know what is my voice? How do I know what I like? How do I lean into this? So give us some thoughts about how to find your voice and how to find that creative confidence if you don't feel you have it. Alicia: I love that. One thing I will say is that I always think whatever is arising is powerful material to create from. So if a lack of confidence is arising, that's a really powerful feeling to directly explore and not just try to ignore. Although sometimes one has to just ignore those feelings. But to actually explore that feeling, because AI can't have that, right? AI can't really feel a crisis of confidence, and humans can. So that's a gift that we have, those kinds of sensitivities. I think to go really deep into whatever is arising, including the sense that we don't have the right to be creating, or we're not good enough, or whatever it is. Then I always do come back to a quote. I think it might have been John Berryman, but I'm forgetting which poet said it. A younger poet said, “How will I ever know if I'm any good?” And this famous poet said something like—I'm paraphrasing—”You'll never know if you're any good. If you have to know, don't write.” That has been really liberating to me, actually. It sounds a little harsh, but it's been really liberating to just let go of a sense of “good enough.” There is no good enough. The great writers never know if they're good enough. Coming back to this idea of just making without permission—the practice of doing the thing is being a writer. Caring and trying to improve our craft, that's the best that we can have. There's never going to be a moment where we're like, yes, I've nailed this. I am truly a hundred per cent a writer and I have found my voice. Everything's always changing anyway. I would say, either go into those feelings or let those feelings be there. Give them a little tea. Tell them, okay, you're welcome to be here, but you don't get to drive the boat. And then return to the practice of making. Joanna: Absolutely. Great. So where can people find you and your books and everything you do online? Alicia: Everything is on my website, which is AliciaJo.com, and also on Instagram at @ohaliciajo. I'd love to say hello to anyone who's interested in similar topics. Joanna: Brilliant. Well, thanks so much for your time, Alicia. That was great. Alicia: Thank you. I love your podcast. I'm so grateful for all that you've given the writing world, Jo.The post Creative Confidence, Portfolio Careers, And Making Without Permission with Alicia Jo Rabins first appeared on The Creative Penn.