Podcasts about parashat

The Torah in Parashat Vaera traces the lineage of Moshe Rabbenu, informing us that he was son of Amram and Yochebed. Amram was a grandson of Yakaob Abinu's third son, Levi – specifically, he was the son of Levi's son, Kehat. Astonishingly, the Torah relates, Yochebed was Amram's aunt – she was the daughter of Levi, the sister of Kehat. The commentaries explain that Yochebed and Kehat had different mothers, and thus they were half-siblings. As such, the marriage between Amram and Yochebed was not forbidden by the Noachide laws, which apply to all mankind. These laws forbid marrying one's parent's full sister, but not a parent's half-sister. This union would, however, be proscribed by the Torah given to Beneh Yisrael. It turns out, then, that Moshe – the greatest leader and prophet in our nation's history, who brought us the Torah – was the product of a marriage that Torah law forbids. Moshe is not the only great leader with less-than-pristine origins. The Davidic line, which began with David and Shlomo and will – we pray very soon – culminate with Mashiah, also has its origins in problematic relationships. David descended from Peretz – the product of the relationship between Yehuda and his daughter-in-law, Tamar. David's great-grandmother was Rut, a convert from the nation of Moab, and although it was ultimately concluded that this marriage was permissible, there was considerable controversy as to whether a man may marry a woman from Moab. And the founder of the nation of Moab, Rut's ancestor, was conceived when Lot's daughter gave her father wine and had a relationship with him, thinking they this was needed in order to maintain the earth's population. Rav Menahem Recanti (Italy, 1223-1290) offers an explanation for this phenomenon, for why the great leaders emerged from less-than-ideal origins. The Satan, he writes, is always seeking to sabotage the rise of these righteous figures, to block these holy souls from descending into the world. Moshe brought us the Torah, which is the "antidote" to the Yeser Ha'ra (evil inclination), the greatest weapon we have in our struggle to overcome the Satan's efforts to lure us away from the service of G-d. And the Gemara teaches that when Mashiah arrives, he will destroy the Satan so it could no longer hurt the Jewish People. Therefore, the Satan will do everything in its power to obstruct the transmission of Torah, and to prevent the arrival of Mashiah. For this reason, Hashem arranged that Moshe and David would be produced from unions that the Satan would never bother to disrupt. The Satan welcomes problematic relationships such as those of Lot and his daughters, Yehuda and Tamar, and Amram and Yochebed. He would never try to interfere with them, because this is precisely what he wants – relationships that are from the Torah's ideal marriage. Moshe and David needed to be produced this way for the purpose of avoiding the Satan's interference. This reminds us never to be discouraged by the challenges that we face in the pursuit of greatness. Whenever we try to achieve something significant, we are going to confront obstacles. Whether it's in the process of finding a spouse and raising a family, the process of learning Torah and spiritual growth, starting a new organization or project – the Satan is always going to try to interfere. Rather than be surprised and discouraged by the problems that arise, we should expect them, stay strong, and proceed with confidence, trusting that Hashem is always helping us in our efforts to defeat the Satan and achieve to the very best of our ability.

Parashat VaEra - Looking For The Relationship by Rabbi Avi Harari

The pasuk says in this week's parashat Shemot, וַתֵּתַצַּב אֲחֹתוֹ מֵרָחֹק לְדֵעָה מַה־יֵּעָשֶׂה -לוֹ Simply, this refers to Miriam, Moshe's older sister, who was standing by watching what would happen to him when he was put into the Nile River. Rabbi Menashe Reizman quoted the Midrash which explains that this pasuk is referring to the Shechinah, standing there watching from afar. The Midrash proves from other pesukim how every word in that pasuk is a reference to the Shechinah. The Maharsha, Masechet Sotah, explains the Midrash is teaching us that although Moshe being thrown into the river seemed like an act of destruction, the ways of Hashem are very far from us. Miriam had a prophecy that the savior was going to be born, and this looked like a nullification of that prophecy. However, this was actually the way in which the prophecy became fulfilled. It was through this that Moshe was raised safely in the palace by the daughter of Pharoah. It also teaches us that although this took place when the harshest slavery began, it appeared that Hashem was so distant, but He was right there standing with them. During their darkest time, Hashem was making the greatest miracles—causing the daughter of Pharoah to go down to the Nile at the exact time Moshe was placed there, and then making the miracle of her arm stretching out to reach him. Rabbi Reizman pointed out that the Torah only devotes six pesukim to discussing all of the slavery in Mitzrayim. Right after that, begins the story of the redemption—how Moshe was born and how he became the go'el. Even the pesukim that speak about the throwing of the babies into the Nile mention Miryam and Yocheved, the mother and sister of the go'el. Perhaps one explanation of this is that we are not meant to dwell too much on the difficulties that we are given. It is hard for us to comprehend how pain and suffering could possibly be good for us, and therefore it is incumbent upon us not to analyze the details too deeply, but rather to trust in Hashem. When Hashem called to Moshe from the burning bush, the pasuk says that Moshe was afraid to look. Hashem appeared to Moshe in a thorn bush, symbolizing עִמּוֹ אָנֹכִי בְצָרָה -He was with us during that hard time. Moshe did not see all the harsh slave labor because he was in Midyan. The Mefarshim explain that here Hashem began showing Moshe the suffering that the Jewish people were going through, but Moshe was afraid to look because he did not want to lower his level of emunah and potentially have questions on the way Hashem was dealing with them. One of the harshest decrees was that Pharoah was killing 150 babies every morning and another 150 every evening, bathing in their blood because he had tzara'at. When Moshe heard about this, along with the fact that Jewish babies were being built into the walls as bricks, he asked Hashem what they did to deserve this. Hashem told Moshe that all of those babies were from previous generations and were receiving their tikkun. It was all chesed, meant to purify them. Hashem told Moshe that if he really wanted, he could save one—and Moshe did. That one baby-Micha- brought about the worst destruction. He was the one who took the Shem Hashem that Moshe used to bring Yosef's aron out of the sea, threw it into the fire when the Jews were waiting for Moshe to come down from Har Sinai, and caused the Egel(golden calf) to emerge alive. Until today, we are still suffering from the effects of the Egel. He later made an idol when they entered Eretz Yisrael, causing countless tragedies to befall the Jewish people. He was also known as Nevat, the father of Yeravam, who caused the exile of the Ten Tribes. That destruction came from just one of those babies. The Lev Aryeh writes that all those who perished in Mitzrayim were neshamot from earlier generations that returned for a tikkun—the generations of the Mabul, Dor HaPelagah, and the people of Sedom. The Mishnah says in Pirkei Avot, אַל תִּסְתַּכֵּל בַּקַּנְקָן אֶלָּא בְּמַה שֶּׁיֵּשׁ בּוֹ (Avot 4:20) The Lev Aryeh explains homiletically that this also refers to the tragedies in Mitzrayim. The word קן has the numerical value of 150. Do not look at what happened to the 150 babies in the morning and the 150 babies in the evening; rather, look at who those people really were—resha'im who needed a tikkun. Hashem is always standing near us, but He appears to be afar because His ways are so far beyond our understanding. Everything He does is chesed. We do not have the ability to comprehend His ways in this world, but we do have the ability to trust in Him. We should not dwell excessively on the difficulties; rather, we should believe that everything is chesed done out of love. And if we have that emunah, then we will be considered people who are truly loyal. Shabbat Shalom

Parashat Shemot tells about the enslavement of Beneh Yisrael in Egypt, a policy enacted by the king about whom the Torah writes: "A new king arose in Egypt, who did not know Yosef" (1:8). Rashi brings a debate among the Amoraim regarding this verse. One view accepts the simple meaning, that a new king came to power. According to the other view, however, this Pharaoh who decided to persecute Beneh Yisrael was the same king who ruled Egypt previously, but he is called "new" because "Nit'hadeshu Gezerotav" – he issued new decrees. This second opinion cited by Rashi requires some explanation. The phrase "Nit'hadeshu Gezerotav" does not actually denote "new" decrees. Its precise translation is "his decrees were renewed." There is, of course, a significant difference between a "new" decree and a "renewed" decree. A "new" decree is one which never existed before, whereas a "renewed decree" is a policy that was once in place and is now restored. We must ask, then, which old policy did Pharaoh "renew" in Egypt? Rav Yosef Salant (Jerusalem, 1885-1981), in his Be'er Yosef, answers this question by examining Onkelos' translation of this verse, which concludes: "De'la Mekayem Gezerat Yosef" – "who did not uphold Yosef's decree." According to Onkelos, Pharaoh annulled the policy that Yosef had put into place. This likely refers to the measures Yosef had enacted in order to feed the population of Egypt during the famine. As we read toward the end of Parashat Vayigash, once the famine struck, Yosef began selling the vast quantities of grain that had been stored during the seven years of surplus. At first, he sold grain to the people in exchange for money, and then, after they had spent all their money, he sold them grain in exchange for their animals and their land. Eventually, the people were left with nothing with which to purchase grain. Yosef therefore turned the entire population into Pharaoh's servants, giving them land to till, in exchange for which they gave Pharaoh a percentage of their crops. The Torah writes that the Egyptians were happy with this arrangement, as it ensured their survival during the devastating famine that ravaged the country. Many years later, Rav Salant explains, Pharaoh changed this policy and brought back the conditions that had been in place before Yosef came along. And thus he "renewed" the old decrees. Rav Salant writes that once the famine ended, Pharaoh used the arrangement established by Yosef as a means of provoking resentment and hostility toward Beneh Yisrael. As politicians often do, Pharaoh sought to win the people's support by convincing them that they were victims of an evil scheme from which he would heroically rescue them. He thus charged that Beneh Yisrael – who were living comfortably in the Goshen region – were responsible for the Egyptian people's lack of freedom, for their status as Pharaoh's servants, because it was Yosef who enacted this policy. And thus the arrangement that saved Egypt from widespread starvation was turned into an evil, malicious scheme to subjugate the people. The Egyptians who were previously grateful for this arrangement now resented it, blaming Yosef – and, by extension, all Beneh Yisrael – for the injustice that they were told they now experienced. One contemporary Rabbi added that this might shed light on Rav Yosef's comment in the Gemara (Pesahim 68b) expressing the great importance of the holiday of Shabuot. Rav Yosef remarked that if not for the event of Matan Torah, which is celebrated on Shabuot, "Kama Yosef Ika Be'shuka" – "There are several 'Yosef's' in the marketplace. Meaning, it is only because of the Torah that Rav Yosef was able to achieve and to distinguish himself through his outstanding scholarship. On a deeper level, however, Rav Yosef was perhaps lamenting the fact that the phenomenon of Yosef, of a Jew who was unfairly maligned and scapegoated after having helped and contributed to a country – has recurred many times. There are, unfortunately, many examples of "Yosef," occasions when Jews were viewed with suspicion and treated with hostility despite their having been hard-working, law-abiding, contributing members of society. This observation is, on the one hand, sobering, but on the other hand, it should give us hope and encouragement at this time of rising antisemitism. This phenomenon is upsetting, but not new. It has happened before – and, each time, we've prevailed. Hashem has always helped us in the past, and he will help us now, as well. We will continue to proudly carry the legacy of Yosef Ha'sadik, passionately adhering to our values and traditions while contributing to the society around us, and placing our trust in Hashem at all times.

Parashat Shemot - Unity by Rabbi Avi Harari

Parashat Vayechi. Yakov Avinu's burial لازمه قسم خوردن یوسف برای خاکسپاری یعقوب آوینو ע"ה by Rabbi Benjamin Lavian

Parashat Vayechi. Years of Yakov Avinu's life and Tehilim by Rabbi Benjamin Lavian

Rashi opens his commentary to Parashat Vayehi with an observation about the "formatting" of this text in the Torah scroll. He notes that the text of Parashat Vayehi begins immediately after the text of the previous Parasha, with no space in between. Normally, the Torah indicates the beginning of a new section with empty space. Sometimes a new section begins on the next line ("Parasha Petuha"), and sometimes a new section begins nine empty spaces (meaning, the space needed to write nine letters) after the end of the previous section ("Parasha Setuma"). Parashat Vayehi, however, begins with no empty space at all separating it from the previous Parasha, appearing as though this is not actually a new Parasha at all. We know that the division of the Torah into Parashiyot was established by Ezra based on an oral tradition. The question thus arises as to why Parashat Vayehi is written immediately after the previous Parasha, without any empty space to indicate that a new Parasha begins. Rashi explains that this "closed" formatting symbolizes the fact that "once Yaakob died, the eyes and hearts of Israel were 'closed' from the distress of bondage, as they [the Egyptians] began to enslave them." The "closed" Parasha expresses the "closing" that occurred due to the slavery that began to unfold after Yaakob Abinu's passing, which the Torah tells about in this Parasha. We must ask, what exactly does Rashi mean when he speaks of the people's eyes and hearts "closing"? Additionally, tradition teaches that the Egyptians did not enslave Beneh Yisrael until all of Yaakob's sons passed away. As long as even one of the Yaakob's sons was alive, the period of slavery did not begin. How, then, can Rashi say that the Egyptians began enslaving Beneh Yisrael after Yaakob Abinu's death? One explanation I saw is that Rashi refers not to the bondage itself, but rather to the early warning signs. Even before Beneh Yisrael were enslaved, there were indications of hostility toward them. Unfortunately, the people's "eyes and hearts" were "closed," they were blinded, and failed to see what was happening before to was too late. When we learn Jewish history, and hear about the tragically numerous incidents of persecution that our nation has suffered, we often find ourselves wondering why the Jews did not just leave, why they did not see the proverbial "writing on the wall" ahead of time and escape before it was too late. The answer is found in Rashi's comments. The Jews' eyes were often closed, unable – or unwilling – to objectively assess the situation, to see where developments were leading. They dismissed hostility as a limited phenomenon, the attitudes of a negligible fringe element. Or, they would see it as a passing phase that would soon end. If a discriminatory law was passed, or a discriminatory policy decision was made, the Jews would assure themselves that it could be repealed, that a different politician will soon come in and implement a different policy, or that they would just lobby government officials. Rashi is telling us that our ancestors in Egypt made this same mistake. Their eyes and minds were "closed," unable to see what was really happening. We must always keep our eyes and minds open, and honestly acknowledge what is happening even when these truths are uncomfortable. And we must never delude ourselves into assuming that the kind of hostility that our nation has experienced in other countries cannot surface here, too. As we continue hoping and praying to Hashem to protect us wherever we are, we must, at the same time, keep our hand on the pulse of the society in which we live and keep our eyes open to potential threats to our future.

Parashat Vayhi - Family Focus by Rabbi Avi Harari

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Parashat Vayigash: Hashkafa of Klal Yisroel and the Umos Haolam

A baal emunah is able to stay calm and composed no matter what type of adversity he is facing. The reason is because he knows for a fact that Hashem was the cause of it, and it is for his best. This attitude is much harder to have when it appears that he is in the difficult position due to other people. There, the yetzer hara tries to convince him that if it wasn't for that other person, he would not be in the position that he is in now. Yosef HaTzaddik, who was a master ma'amin, exemplified the great mida of this type of emunah, when he finally revealed himself to his brothers in this week's parasha, Vayigash . His brothers had planned to kill him, then sold him as a slave, taking him away from his father for years. He had been through so much hardship. And then he told his brothers not to feel bad about any of it because it was Hashem who used them as His messenger to bring him to the place He wanted him to be in. Yosef then hugged and kissed every one of his brothers. This is a tremendous level to reach. There are people who are able to accept the difficulties caused to them by others, but only after they see the benefits that came about as a result of them. The greatest rewards are reserved for those who are able to be calm and accepting even during the darkness when there are no benefits apparent. Rabbi Zilberstein told a story that he witnessed first-hand when he took his father to a clinic for a small procedure. There was a lot of commotion going on in one particular area and everyone realized it. When Rabbi Zilberstein inquired about it, he was told what happened. A man was there to get a couple of his teeth pulled. During the procedure, the doctor accidentally knocked one of his teeth and it went to the back of the man's throat. It was a sharp tooth which could have caused considerable damage to his lungs. The man's children, who accompanied him there, were horrified at what was happening. Specialists were called in and, eventually, they got the tooth out. Afterward, they did an x-ray on that area to make sure there was no damage and they found in the x-ray a very small, cancerous growth which was in its infant stages. They immediately took it out. The doctor said that type of growth is extremely dangerous and doesn't take too long to start doing damage. The fact that they caught it then saved this man's life. After we see the good in that doctor's "mistake" it's very easy to have emunah that it was Hashem who caused that tooth to be knocked out. But who would be able to stay calm and have full emunah that Hashem was the one behind it during the dark time, before they found the growth, when it looked like the patient was going to be negatively affected to no fault of his own? It's not good enough to believe it was Hashem only after the fact. We have to work on ourselves to believe it's Hashem the entire time. In the future, Hashem is going to show us why every single event that happened to every single individual was only because of Him for the best reasons possible. But then it will be too late to have emunah. Then it will be called ידיעה – not faith but knowledge. Now is our time to shine. We are never in any particular circumstance because of what somebody else did. We are only there because of Hashem. The more we are able to internalize this, the more peace of mind we'll have and the greater heights we'll reach. Shabbat Shalom.

Parashat Vayigash. In Farsi. parental responsibility in chinuch...in parasha by Rabbi Benjamin Lavian

El encuentro de Yosef con sus hermanos

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The Torah in Parashat Vayigash lists the names of the members of Yaakob Abinu's family who moved with him from Canaan to Egypt. These include his granddaughter, Serah, the daughter of Asher (46:17). Targum Yonatan Ben Uziel tells us something fascinating about Serah – she was one of the very few people in world history who never died, and instead went into Gan Eden alive. Serah received this special reward because she was the one who informed Yaakob Abinu that Yosef was still alive. Yaakob had mourned and grieved for twenty-two years, thinking that Yosef, his beloved son, was devoured by an animal. When Yosef's brothers returned from Egypt with the news that Yosef was actually alive, and had risen to the position of vizier of Egypt, they were unsure how to communicate this information to Yaakob. He was an elderly, shattered man, and they needed to share with him this news in a gentle, delicate manner that wouldn't cause him shock. They turned to Serah, Asher's daughter, who was a talented musician. She took an instrument and sang beautifully to Yaakob the words that Yosef was alive. In reward for this act, Serah earned eternal life. It is not difficult to see the principle of "Midda Ke'negged Midda" – how actions are repaid "measure for measure" – at work in this story. Serah effectively restored Yaakb Abinu's soul, bringing him back to life. Throughout the twenty-two years of mourning, Yaakob was lifeless – without joy, without vitality. Serah restored Yaakob's life – and so she was rewarded with eternal life. The Zohar teaches that anytime a person shares good news with somebody, the spirit of Eliyahu Ha'nabi enters his being. Eliyahu is the one who will inform us of Mashiah's imminent arrival. In fact, Ashkenazim have the practice of adding a brief prayer to Birkat Ha'mazon asking Hashem to send us Eliyahu Ha'nabi "so that he will bring us good news, salvations and consolations." Eliyahu is the ultimate bearer of good tidings – and he is the most famous person who never died, who lives eternally, who went straight into Gan Eden without experiencing death. By sharing good news with people, we attain an element of Eliyahu Ha'nabi's eternal quality. When we tell good news, we make people happier, we revitalize them, we encourage them, we bring them more "liveliness." We are thus worthy of eternity. I recall that after my first child was born, I went from the hospital to a job I had at the time tutoring a young man in preparation for his Bar-Misva. When I came in, his mother said hello and asked how I was doing. I said I was fine, without informing her that my wife delivered a baby boy. I felt I would come across as self-absorbed by telling her about the birth. Later, the father came in and said hello, and once again I just responded to the greeting without informing him about the birth of my son. Not long after I left, both parents heard that my wife had given birth to a boy. They both called me and asked in bewilderment why I hadn't said anything about it. I acted incorrectly that day. I didn't realize at that time how important it is to share good news, as much and as often as possible. People love hearing good news. It gets them excited, it injects them with optimism and encouragement. It gives them a better feeling about the world. It reminds them that beautiful things are happening all around them, that Hashem does so many wonderful things. Sharing good news has the effect of lifting people's spirits and energizing them. This is especially important in today's day and age. The device we carry in our pocket is constantly bringing us bad news. We are greeted all day by distressing news, by all that is wrong in the world. The news feeds never tell us about couples getting engaged and married, about people working hard, accomplishing, and earning a respectable livelihood, about happy families enjoying dinner or an outing, about people doing Misvot and learning Torah. This is not reported as news because it's uninteresting. News feeds instead tell us as much negative information as it can – crime, corruption, ugly politics, "juicy" gossip about public personalities and celebrities, etc. Every piece of news we consume makes the world seem darker. The cumulative effect of news consumption is chronic negativity, and even anxiety, as we feel that everything about the world is wrong. The antidote to this gloom is positivity. We should be making a point of being as positive and upbeat as possible. We should be seizing every opportunity we have to share happy news, to point out the good things that are happening, to compliment, to praise, to express admiration and gratitude. There is more than enough negativity in our lives – and we must therefore avoid adding further negativity. Instead, let's spread positivity, talking as much as we can about all the good we see around us.

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Parashat VaYigash - Yosef's Subtle Lesson by Rabbi Avi Harari

Parashat Mikez מקץ BITACHON . خنوکا روز پنجاهم بالاتر از טבע by Rabbi Benjamin Lavian

Chanukah & Parashat Mikez by Rabbi Benjamin Lavian

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Parashat Miketz begins with the famous story of Yosef being brought from the Egyptian prison to interpret Pharaoh's unusual dreams. Yosef informed Pharoh that his visions of seven lean cows devouring seven large cows, and seven lean sheaves devouring seven large sheaves, foretold a seven-year period of agricultural surplus that would be immediately followed by seven years of harsh famine. After explaining the meaning of Pharaoh's dreams, Yosef proceeded to urge the king to appoint somebody to oversee the storage of grain during the next seven years to prepare for the drought years which would follow. Pharaoh promptly assigned Yosef to this role. Yosef adds a curious phrase in his remarks to Pharaoh, one which is often overlooked. In urging the king to set up a mechanism for the storage of grain, Yosef says, "Ya'aseh Pharaoh Ve'yafked Pekidim Al Ha'aretz" – "Pharaoh shall act and appoint officers over the land" (41:34). Yosef does not just advise Pharaoh to appoint officials – he says, "Ya'aseh Pharaoh," that "Pharaoh shall act." What is meant by these words? Why did Yosef emphasize that Pharaoh should "act"? Some suggest that Yosef here expressed a fundamental principle of leadership and education – the importance of setting a personal example. Yosef anticipated that there would be opposition among the Egyptian population to his plan to store large amounts of grain. During years of economic prosperity, few people have the foresight to consider the possibility of a shortage down the road. It would be hard for the Egyptians to envision a devastating famine while they were busy harvesting unprecedentedly large amounts of produce. They would not be so quick to put the surplus grain into storage to prepare for something that the government claimed would happen years later. They would need some convincing. This is why Yosef said, "Ya'aseh Pharaoh." The best way for Pharoah to convince the people to store grain was for him to set an example. Before he could appoint officials to enforce a policy of storage, he would have to "act" – he would need to show the people that he, too, was storing his surplus, that he was not overindulging during the years of prosperity. This was critical for the success of this plan. We might add that Yosef learned this concept from his father, Yaakob. At the end of Parashat Vayeseh, we read that Yaakov made a pact with his father-in-law, Laban, and as a formal symbol of their agreement they made a special pile of stones. The Torah tells that Yaakob turned to his sons and instructed them to collect stones to make this large pile ("Liktu Abanim" – 31:46). Despite the grueling labor involved, his sons immediately obeyed, without any protest. The likely reason is because in the preceding verse, we read that Yaakob himself lifted a large stone and erected it as a monument. Before asking his sons to participate in this process, Yaakob first acted himself. He first set an example for his children, and they were then far more receptive to his request that they join. Parents, educators, and anyone looking to have an impact must realize this truism about influence. A person is not likely to inspire others by sitting comfortably and trying to convince them to act. If we want to influence and inspire, we need to act, to set an example, to model the behavior. It is only if our words are accompanied by a personal example that we can hope for them to have an impact.

Parashat Mikess - Perspective by Rabbi Avi Harari

פרשת וישב. Gematriaot on Parashat Vayeshev by Rabbi Benjamin Lavian

פרשת וישב וחנוכה מספר בת עין Chanuka in Parashat Vayeshev according to Bat Ain

Parashat Vayeshev. Halachik questions on the parasha by Rabbi Benjamin Lavian

Send us a textPastor Joshua reads Vayeshev, Genesis 37:1–40:23

Join us for study and discussion of Parashat Vayetze

Rabbi Pinchas Allouche, head Rabbi at Congregation Beth Tefillah in Scottsdale, and the host of the Rabbi Allouche podcast, joins Seth for the full hour to talk about this week's Torah portion, Parashat Vayeshev, coming from Genesis, the story of Joseph, and the coming Hebrew holiday of Hanukkah.See omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.

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پاراشا ویشو Parashat Vayeshev - the secret of dreams and insights into parasha by Rabbi Benjamin Lavian

Join us as we study the Torah portion Parashat Chayei Sara

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Parashat VaYeshev - The Courage To Admit You Were Wrong by Rabbi Avi Harari

Con Lavan vivi

When Yaakob heard that his brother, Esav, was approaching with a militia of 400 men, he offered an impassioned prayer to G-d, begging for help. He cried, "Hasileni Na Mi'yad Ahi Mi'yad Esav" – "Save me, please, from my brother, from Esav" (32:12). A famous insight into this verse was offered by the Bet Ha'levi (Rav Yosef Dov Soloveitchik of Brisk, 1820-1892), one which is worth our while to review and ponder. The Bet Ha'levi noted that Yaakob asked G-d to protect him from both "Esav" and from "my brother." Of course, these seem to be one and the same. But the Bet Ha'levi explains that this refers to two different threats that Yaakob feared. The first and more obvious threat was that posed by "Esav" – the violent, evil man who hated Yaakob for having taken his blessing, and sought to kill him. Esav's hostility and violent character posed a clear and present danger. But Yaakob also feared the opposite prospect – that Esav would come as "my brother," with love and affection. This, too, presented a danger, albeit a much different form of danger – a spiritual danger. When the gentile nations treat us as "brothers," inviting us to closely interact with them, we risk becoming like them, of exchanging our traditional beliefs, values and practices for their culture. Whereas "Esav" threatens our physical existence, "my brother" threatens our spiritual existence. The Gemara tells that King Ahashverosh despised the Jews no less than Haman. When Haman presented to the king his idea to annihilate the Jews, and offered to pay for it, Ahashverosh responded that to the contrary, he would pay Haman to do this, because he wanted the Jews killed. The Gemara draws an analogy to a person with a large mound of dirt on his property which he wanted to get rid of, and he is approached by another person who has a large hole on his property which he wished to fill. The person with the hole in the ground offers to pay the other person for his mound of dirt – but the one with the mound of dirt is prepared to pay him to remove it. Likewise, Haman was willing to pay Ahashverosh to annihilate the Jews, but Ahashverosh was prepared to pay Haman to get rid of them. But when we read the Megilla, we do not get the impression that Ahashverosh disliked the Jews. To the contrary, he invited them to his feast, and they happily participated. In truth, however, this was no less sinister a plot than Haman's plan to murder the Jews. Haman approached the Jewish People as "Esav," whereas Ahashverosh approached them as "my brother," inviting them to assimilate and embrace the Persian culture, values and lifestyle. Returning to the story of Yaakob and Esav, the Torah tells that when they finally reunited, Esav embraced Yaakob and kissed him. However, one view in the Midrash, as Rashi (33:4) cites, explains that Esav first tried to bite Yaakob's neck. Hashem performed a miracle, making Yaakob's neck hard as marble, such that Esav's teeth could not penetrate it. Esav then kissed him. He at first tried to hurt Yaakov with hostility and violence, and when this failed, he resorted to the tactic of "my brother," by showing love and affection, hoping to lure Yaakob away from his beliefs and values. We must stand guard against both dangers. In a time of growing antisemitism, we must of course remain vigilant and take appropriate measures to protect ourselves. No less importantly, however, we must protect ourselves from the lure of assimilation. The United States offers us freedom and equality, treating us no differently than any other group in this country. This is, undoubtedly, a wonderful blessing for which we must be grateful, as it has allowed us to build communities such as ours and practice our religion without fear. At the same time, however, the freedoms have wrought a spiritual catastrophe, pulling a frighteningly high percentage of Jews away from their heritage. The American Jew's freedom to fully participate in American culture and society entices him to abandon his traditions in favor of the values and lifestyle of the people around us, and too many have fallen prey to this temptation. We need to ensure that our enjoyment of the wonderful freedoms granted us by this country does not result in our rejection of our traditions. And we do this through our community institutions, through our schools, synagogues, yeshivot and programs, which help solidify our identity as Torah Jews, an identity that we continue to wear with pride and conviction even as we participate in and interact with the general society.

Source Sheet

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When Yaakov arrived at the outskirts of Haran, he saw local shepherds with their herds near the well outside the city. He asked them why they weren't giving their sheep water. The shepherds explained that they could not remove the large, heavy stone from the top of the well. They needed to wait for all the shepherds to assemble at the well so they could together roll the stone off the well. Yaakob then proceeded to the well and, by himself, pushed the stone off so the shepherds could draw water for their flocks. Rashi comments that this episode shows us that Yaakob possessed unique physical strength. We must ask, for what purpose did the Torah tells us about Yaakob Abinu's exceptional strength? What lesson are we to learn from this story? Every person, without any exceptions, has spiritual struggles. And no two people's struggles are the same. Misvot which come easily for one person is a difficult challenge for somebody else. Some people struggle to observe Kashrut, others have a hard time with Shabbat. There are those who have difficulty praying properly, and there are those who find it challenging to observe the Torah's standards of Seniut (modesty). But everyone is struggling with something. This is true even of the great Sadikim. King Shlomo teaches us in Mishleh (24:16), "Ki Sheba Yipol Sadik Ve'kam" – "For a righteous person falls seven times and gets up." Even the righteous fall – and they fall repeatedly. The difference between a righteous person and others is "Ve'kam" – that a Sadik "gets up" each and every time he falls. The wicked person, at a certain point, gives up. He decides not to bother struggling, figuring that it's just too hard for him. An example of this kind of person is Esav, about whom the Torah says, "Ve'hu Ayef" – "and he was tired" (25:29). Esav had the potential for greatness. He was no less capable of being a Sadik than Yaakob was. But he grew "tired" – he decided not to try. The Sadik doesn't get tired. He falls, often, but he keeps getting back up. How does the Sadik do this? What motivates him to keep trying, even after falling multiple times? The answer is found in one of the Birchot Ha'shahar (morning blessings), in which we thank Hashem "Ha'noten La'ya'ef Ko'ah" – "who gives strength to the weary." The Sadik keeps getting back up because he believes that Hashem is helping him and giving him strength. As long as we keep trying, Hashem gives us the abilities we need to eventually succeed. This is the difference between the wicked and the righteous: the wicked person feels powerless, and thus concludes that there is no purpose to continue trying, whereas the righteous person confidently believes that Hashem is giving him the strength he needs to improve. This is the message of the story of Yaakob Abinu's experiences at the well outside Haran. The large stone on the well symbolizes the Yeser Ha'ra, our evil inclination, the difficult – often overwhelming – spiritual challenges that we each face. Like the stone, they seem too big to move, too difficult to handle, too much for us to overcome. The shepherds, like many people, don't bother trying, because they assume they don't have the strength to succeed. Yaakob showed that when one believes in the "Noten La'ya'ef Ko'ah," he is much stronger than he thinks, and he can "remove the stone," and overcome his challenges. We are not expected to be perfect, because we are human beings, and human beings aren't perfect. We are, however, expected to try, and to try again when we don't succeed. We are expected not to grow tired, not to give up, and to instead trust that Hashem is helping us and giving us the strength we need to achieve.

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Parashat Hayeh-Sara tells the famous story of Eliezer, Abraham's trusted servant, whom Abraham sent to find a suitable match for Abraham's son, Yishak. Upon arriving at the well outside Abraham's hometown, Aram Naharayim, from where Abraham instructed him to find the match, Eliezer prayed to G-d, begging for His assistance. He said that he would ask a girl at the well for some water, and he asked Hashem to arrange that the girl who not only agreed to give him water, but also offered to give water to his camels, should be the girl destined to marry Yishak. Sure enough, Eliezer saw Ribka – the daughter of Yishak's cousin, Betuel – at the well, and, not knowing who she was, he approached her and asked for water. She agreed, gave him water from her pitcher, and then said that she would draw water from the well for his camels. Ribka then proceeded to repeatedly draw water and pour it into the trough for all ten of Eliezer's camels. Surprisingly, the Torah tells that as Ribka was doing all this, Eliezer watched carefully, wondering "if G-d had made his mission successful or not" (24:21). It seems that even at this point, after Ribka offered to draw water for his camels, he was still not convinced. He needed to observe her throughout this process to determine whether or not she was indeed the right girl to marry Abraham's son. We must ask, what else did Ribka need to prove? Eliezer explicitly said that the suitable girl would be the one who responded to his request for water by offering to draw water for his camels. Why did he still need to wait while Ribka proceeded to draw the water before concluding that she was the one chosen by G-d to marry Yishak? Rav Leib Mintzberg (Jerusalem, 1943-2018), in his Ben Melech, explains that the quality of one's Hesed is not assessed merely by the practical results, by the tangible benefits that he provides. It is measured also by the way it is performed, by whether one helps his fellow graciously, warmly, with a smile, in a manner that makes the recipient feel comfortable and respected. We've all had different kinds of experiences when asking for a favor. Sometimes the person grants our request, but does so coldly, almost begrudgingly, giving us the feeling that he or she would have preferred not to have been bothered. And then there are times when the person does the favor happily, with a warm smile, asking if there's anything else we need, making us feel comfortable and at ease. This is a critically important component of Hesed. Indeed, the Gemara teaches in Masechet Baba Batra (9b) that one who gives money to somebody in need is rewarded with six blessings, whereas one who speaks words of comfort to that individual, lifting his spirits and giving him encouragement, receives eleven blessings – because making a person feel comfortable and at ease is a crucial aspect of kindness. This, Rav Mintzberg writes, is what Eliezer was watching for. Ribka already said that she would draw water for the camels – but Eliezer wanted to see if she would do it warmly and happily, which she of course did. Rav Mintzberg explains on this basis why, afterward, Eliezer gave Ribka as a gift two bracelets and a nose ring, adorning her hands and her face. This symbolizes the fact that she excelled in both aspects of Hesed – the action, and the demeanor. She exerted physical effort to draw a large amount of water for Eliezer's camels, but she also helped him with her face, by wearing a warm smile, by showing her eagerness to help. And these two elements – the act of Hesed, coupled with her warmth and graciousness – are what made Ribka worthy of marrying Yishak and becoming a matriarch of Hashem's treasured nation.

Parashat Hayei Sarah - Finding Your Path by Rabbi Avi Harari

For a 10% discount on Rabbi David Ashear's new book LIVING EMUNAH ON THE PARASHAH 2 click the link below https://www.artscroll.com/ Books/9781422645581.html Although Sara Imenu was nearly ninety years old and physically incapable of having children, Hashem still expected her to believe with full conviction that she could. The words Hashem used to describe His boundless abilities were, הֲיִפָּלֵא מֵיְ־הוָה דָּבָר — is there anything beyond Hashem? These are words that we must live by. It is true that the Gemara teaches that a person should not pray for something that requires Hashem to overturn nature. But our rabbis tell us that there are many exceptions to this principle. Rav Sadok Hakohen explained that having children is considered part of the natural order, and therefore no matter what any doctor says, a person is always encouraged to pray for children. Furthermore, if a person is facing a fatal illness, lo aleinu, the Orchot Rabbeinu writes that we must continue praying for refuah shelemah, and this is not what Chazal meant when they said not to pray for miracles. Even if doctors insist the illness is incurable, Rav Chaim Kanievsky zt"l said that there may be a medication in the world that we simply have not discovered yet. That is not a miracle; that is part of the natural world which Hashem controls completely. It is not our job to tell Hashem how to save us. It is our job to pray. Hashem can do anything—and it can all happen within the natural order. A woman — we will call her Sarah — told me the following story. She went to the doctor for a routine check. After the initial tests, she returned to the waiting room. A short time later, they called her name and told her the doctor wanted more imaging. She knew these weren't scheduled, and her heart dropped. She went in for the additional scans. As the technicians studied the images, she overheard them speaking in alarming tones: "Oh no… what are we going to tell the doctor?" "Let's try again…" Each time they repeated the scan, the tone got worse. Sarah panicked. Should she call her husband? Should she spare him the worry until she knew more? A flood of thoughts raced through her mind. She truly felt that her time in this world might be very short. But then she realized: at this moment, she didn't know anything for sure. This was the best time to pray. She wondered what words to use. Should she ask Hashem to remove whatever mass they were seeing — would that be asking for an open miracle? Should she ask that it be harmless — when the technicians' reactions indicated otherwise? Should she pray that surgery would be quick and successful? Each option seemed like she was dictating to Hashem how the salvation should come. So she said: it is not my job to tell Hashem how to help me. My job is simply to pray. With that clarity, she poured out her heart: "Hashem, please grant me many more healthy years of life so I can continue doing Your avodah." When the scans were finished, she returned to the waiting area and continued praying intensely. Finally her name was called. She braced herself. But the doctor smiled and said, "Everything looks great. You're good to go." She was stunned. She had heard the technicians' panic. She knew they had seen something. So she asked, "What about the retesting?" The doctor replied, "Oh, that wasn't for you. There's another Sarah. She has a known mass and we wanted updated imaging." The technicians were confused because they couldn't find the mass anymore and thought they were making mistakes. Her heart skipped a beat. While she was praying for life, convinced they had seen something terrible on her brain, she had no idea they were scanning the wrong Sarah. Never in her wildest imagination could she have predicted this scenario. But Hashem doesn't need us to figure out how salvation will come. He only asks us to trust and to pray. הֲיִפָּלֵא מֵיְ־הוָה דָּבָר — is anything ever beyond Hashem? Shabbat Shalom.

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