Podcasts about parashat

Parashat Hukat tells the famous story of Meh Meriba – Moshe Rabbenu's sin of striking the rock to produce water after G-d had instructed him to speak to the rock. Hashem punished Moshe, decreeing that he would not have the privilege of entering the Land of Israel along with the rest of the nation. Numerous different approaches have been taken to explain the nature of Moshe Rabbenu's mistake, and to answer the question of how Moshe, the greatest prophet who ever lived, a man of such towering spiritual stature, could have disobeyed G-d's explicit command to speak to the rock. A particularly fascinating explanation is offered by the Hatam Sofer (Rav Moshe Sofer of Pressburg, 1762-1839), who notes a mysterious nuance in G-d's command to produce water by speaking to the rock. Hashem said to Moshe, "You shall speak to the rock and it shall give forth its water, and you shall bring water for them out of the rock…" (20:8). Surprisingly, Hashem here twice mentions the production of water: 1) "and it shall give forth its water"; 2) "and you shall bring water for them out of the rock." It seems that Moshe was to extract water from the rock in two different stages through his speech. The Hatam Sofer solves this mystery based on the conclusion of this verse: "Ve'hishkita Et Ha'eda U'be'iram" – "you shall give water to drink for the congregation and their animals." The rock was to produce two streams of water – one for the people, and one of their animals. The Hatam Sofer explains that throughout the forty years which Beneh Yisrael spent in the wilderness, they ate heavenly food – the manna – but drank ordinary water. This water was provided through supernatural means – a well which miraculously traveled with them, in the merit of Miriam, Moshe's righteous sister – but the water was ordinary water. The manna originated from the heavens, and was spiritual food, whereas the water itself was no different from regular water that the people were accustomed to drinking. But now, as Beneh Yisrael were entering the final stage of their sojourn through the wilderness, they were ready to be brought to an especially high spiritual level. To this end, Moshe was to speak special words of Torah and prayers to the rock so it would produce a special kind of water – spiritual water, the liquid equivalent of the manna, that would uplift the people to great heights. This explains why the Torah speaks of two kinds of water. Moshe's words were to cause the rock to pour forth a stream of spiritual water for the people, and a second stream of regular water for their animals. Moshe, however, was afraid of producing this special spiritual water for the people. He feared that if they would then sin after having ingested this water, this would be unforgivable. Once they would reach such lofty spiritual heights, any failure would be deemed an especially grave transgression, and they might, Heaven forbid, be severely punished. It was thus out of compassion that Moshe struck the rock instead of speaking to it. He exclaimed, "Listen, O rebellious ones – shall I bring water for you out of this rock?!" (20:10). He was, in essence, telling the people, "I know you will in the future be rebellious – I therefore cannot produce the spiritual water for you." He instead struck the rock and produced regular water, which both the people and their animals drank, as implied by the verse, "Va'tesht Ha'eda U'be'iram" ("The congregation and their animals drank" – 20:11). When the Torah tells of Hashem informing Moshe and Aharon of their punishment for disobeying, it refers to Hashem with the Name of "Havaya," which is associated with G-d's attribute of compassion. This indicates that G-d's anger was tempered by compassion – because Moshe acted as he did out of genuine love and concern for Beneh Yisrael. He did not, Heaven forbid, intend to disrespect G-d's authority by disregarding His command. Rather, he was overcome by sincere love for the people, and wanted to protect them. For a towering Sadik of Moshe Rabbenu's stature, this was considered a sin. For us, though, the story of Meh Meriba provides us with an example of unbridled Ahabat Yisrael – love for our fellow Jews. In this specific instance, Moshe's love for His people resulted in his doing something which G-d disapproved of. But we can only wish to have the same level of Ahabat Yisrael as Moshe Rabbenu. We are to follow this example of genuine, heartfelt concern for each and every one of our fellow Jews, to the point where we are willing to do whatever we can to help them.

Tammuz and Av are, according to the Zohar, days of judgment. The Creator of the world "provides a cure before the plague" and sends us the secrets of the sweetening of the judgments. How do you turn judgment into mercy, failure into success, death into life, destruction into growth? This is the secret of human correction and this is the secret of true healing. The secrets of medicine and its symbolism in Parashat Ḥukat. Meditation for expanding the consciousness of light & pleasure, a few lines below: Support our efforts to provide you with more materials, donate to Live Kabbalah: https://livekabbalah.org/donations Guided Meditation of the Tetragrammaton: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=b8AzyLFM2AY Read and learn more about this Parashah: https://livekabbalah.org/hukat Join our course program: https://livekabbalah.org/live-kabbalah-courses Join our Zoom Program: https://livekabbalah.org/weekly-zohar-tree-of-life-study-live

El poder y la influencia.

Parashat Korah - Message du Rav avant Shabat by Rav David Touitou

Aula ministrada 26/07/2025 para os alunos da Yeshiva.

The Torah begins the story of Korah's brazen uprising against Moshe Rabbenu by introducing him as "Korah, son of Yitzhar, son of Kehat, son of Levi." Rashi notes that the Torah traces Korah's genealogy back to Levi, but it stopped there, without going one generation further, mentioning "the son of Yaakob." This was done, Rashi explains, in fulfillment of Yaakob Abinu's request before his passing. In Yaakob's parting words to his sons, when he addressed Shimon and Levi, he proclaimed, "Bi'khalam Al Tehad Kebodi" – that his honor should not be associated with their "congregation" (Bereshit 49:6). This refers to the "congregation" assembled by Korah for the purpose of challenging the authority of Moshe Rabbenu. Yaakob did not want his name mentioned in the context of this sinful uprising, and so the Torah identified Korah only as "son of Yitzhar, son of Kehat, son of Levi," without adding, "son of Yaakob." Several later scholars addressed the obvious problem with Rashi's comments – his assumption that the Torah should have traced Korah's lineage all the way back to Yaakob. Rashi says that the Torah would have mentioned also "son of Yaakob" if not for Yaakob's request that his name be omitted – but why would Yaakob's name have needed to be mentioned? For that matter, why did the Torah bother tracing Korah's lineage even back to Levi? The Torah already presented the genealogy of the tribe of Levi, back in the Book of Shemot (6), and Korah's family background is included there. Why did the Torah go through the trouble of telling us that Korah was the "son of Yitzhar, the son of Kehat, the son of Levi," and why would it have added also "son of Yaakob" if Yaakob hadn't asked not to be mentioned? A fascinating answer is given by the Maharal of Prague (Rav Yehuda Loew, 1512-1609), in his Gur Aryeh. He explains that the Torah wanted to emphasize the extent of Korah's evil in launching this uprising against Moshe, by noting his distinguished lineage. Korah himself was a prominent member of the nation, among those who carried the ark during travel, but also descended from outstanding Sadikim – Yitzhar, Kehat, Levi, and the patriarchs. Of course, Korah's revolt would have been a grievous sin no matter who he was, but his prominent family background made it particularly severe. This is why the Torah made a point of mentioning his distinguished, righteous predecessors – and would have gone as far as mentioning also Yaakob Abinu, except that Yaakob asked that his name be omitted from this context. The Maharal's explanation brings to mind an insight of the Maggid of Dubna (1741-1804) regarding a verse in Parashat Behukotai (26:42). This verse appears in the section known as the "Tocheha," where G-d warns of the dreadful calamities that He would bring upon Beneh Yisrael as punishment for their misdeeds. G-d in this verse proclaims that He would remember the covenant He made with the patriarchs. It seems that He is now offering consolation, emphasizing that despite His anger, and although He would be punishing the people, He would nevertheless have compassion due to His covenant with the Abot. However, the next verse then continues the description of the exile that the Jewish People would suffer on account of their sins – indicating that the comforting conclusion of the Tocheha has not yet begun. The Maggid of Dubna thus explains that in this verse, G-d warns the people that their wrongdoing is exceptionally severe because of whom they descend from – the sacred patriarchs, with whom Hashem made a special covenant. As heirs of this covenant, and members of this special nation, their misdeeds are considered graver. The Maggid draws an analogy to two people who committed the same minor misdemeanor – a prince, and a poor peasant. The peasant is sentenced to several weeks of prison, whereas the prince is handed a ten-year jail sentence. The reason is that the prince's offense is far more grievous due to his family background, because he is the king's son, a member of the royal family. We, Am Yisrael, must live with this awareness, that we are royalty, that we are "princes," the children of Abraham, Yishak and Yaakob. As members of the "royal family," who have received and studied the Torah, which instructs us how to live a "regal" lifestyle, more is expected of us than of other people. We are bidden to maintain the high standards demanded of Hashem's special nation who represent Him to the rest of the world, and always strive to be worthy of this unique privilege.

The pasuk in this week's Parashat Shelach tells us that the Meraglim (spies) came to a place called נחל אשכול , the Valley of the Cluster, and there they removed a massive cluster of grapes. This enormous cluster was later used to frighten the Jewish people, as the spies described the giants who inhabited the land and implied that Bnei Yisrael had no chance of conquering it. Then the pasuk says the place was named אשכול —"Cluster"—because of the cluster they took. But the Sefer Minchat Ani asks an important question: it seems the place was already called נחל אשכול before the cluster was taken, as the Torah says they arrived at the Valley of Eshkol before picking the grapes. The Midrash resolves this by explaining that the place was already called Eshkol, all the way back to the time of Avraham Avinu. The Midrash quotes the pasuk " מגיד מראשית אחרית "—Hashem reveals the end from the beginning—and teaches us that Hashem sees the past, present, and future all at once. One of Avraham's close companions was named Eshkol, and Hashem placed that name in the minds of Eshkol's parents because of the future cluster that would be taken by the Meraglim in that very location. But this raises an obvious question: why? Why would Hashem cause a man to be named "Eshkol" because of an event that would occur hundreds of years later? The Minchat Ani brings another Midrash that sheds light on this. When Avraham was commanded to perform a brit milah , he consulted his three friends. Aner told him not to do it—he was too old to harm himself. Eshkol warned that if he did it, he would be weakened and vulnerable to attack. But the third friend, Mamre, encouraged him, saying: "The same Hashem who saved you from the fiery furnace, from the four kings, from famine—He is now commanding you. He will protect you." This powerful moment became a lesson passed down through generations. Every Jewish child would grow up learning how Avraham courageously performed the brit milah , how Mamre showed emunah , and how Aner and Eshkol doubted. And now, centuries later, that same test returned. The Meraglim echoed the voices of Aner and Eshkol, casting doubt on Hashem's power to bring them safely into Eretz Yisrael. They cut the Eshkol—the very cluster that symbolized the mistake of the man Eshkol from generations before. And just like Mamre, Caleb stood up and proclaimed his emunah , telling the people that Hashem, who had always protected them, would continue to do so. Hashem arranged it all—placing the Meraglim at the same site as Eshkol's legacy, giving them a chance to correct the mistake of the past. This wasn't random. Their test had been developing for centuries. Nothing in this world happens by chance. Every test a person faces is custom-designed by Hashem, planned with precision before that person even enters the world. We have no idea how much our actions matter, how intentional each situation is, and how carefully Hashem prepares our challenges. In the case of the Meraglim , Hashem gave them every opportunity to succeed. He placed them at Nachal Eshkol , at the exact site where history had already taught the lesson they needed to learn. But they failed. Still, the message for us remains: Tests are given to make us great. Hashem not only gives us challenges, but also provides us with the strength, wisdom, and circumstances to overcome them. Every test we face is hand-tailored to help us grow, elevate ourselves, and earn eternal reward. If we internalize this, we'll face our own tests with clarity and strength. And with Hashem's help, we'll overcome them—and fulfill our unique mission in this world. Shabbat Shalom.

Parashat Shelah Lekha - Message du Rav avant Shabat by Rav David Touitou

Parashat Be'halot'cha: Understanding Eretz Yisrael in our times

Parashat Shelah tells the famous story of the Meragelim – the twelve spies sent by Moshe to see the Land of Israel and report back to the nation. Unfortunately, ten of the twelve spies betrayed their mission, frightening the people and convincing them not to proceed into the land. In telling this story, the Torah makes a point of mentioning that during the spies' excursion through the land, they cut a vine with a cluster of grapes, and they brought it back to the people to show them a sample of the land's fruit (13:23). This appears to have been a very significant act – for in the next verse, the Torah tells that the spies named that location "Nahal Eshkol" – "the Valley of the Cluster," commemorating this cluster of grapes. We must wonder, why was this particular act worthy of such commemoration? Why did the spies consider this such a significant event that they found it necessary to memorialize it by changing the location's name? A closer examination of the text reveals yet another difficulty. The Torah tells that this area was renamed to commemorate "the cluster that Beneh Yisrael cut from there." Curiously, the Torah speaks of "Beneh Yisrael" taking this cluster grapes, when in truth only twelve members of the nation – the twelve spies – performed this act. Why? The answer emerges from the comments of the Seforno (Rav Ovadia Seforno, Italy, 1475-1550) in explaining Moshe's instruction that the spies should bring fruit from Eretz Yisrael (13:20). The Seforno writes that this act functioned as a Halachic "Hazaka" – display of ownership. When a person purchases land, the property Halachically enters his possession in one of three ways – the transfer of money to the seller, receiving from the seller a deed of sale, or performing an act of "Hazaka" whereby he demonstratively establishes ownership over the property. A "Hazaka" can take on several different forms, such as erecting a fence around the property, and performing agricultural work in the land. According to Seforno, this was the purpose of the spies' seizing fruit from Eretz Yisrael. This was intended not simply to bring the people a sample of the land's exceptional, high-quality produce, but also to formally take possession of the Land of Israel. Hashem was giving this land to Beneh Yisrael – but they needed to perform an act of acquisition to establish their ownership. This is the significance of the severing of a vine. Quite understandably, then, this was a very significant act that was worth commemorating, as it marked the point when we formally took possession of our homeland. And, this explains why the Torah speaks of "Beneh Yisrael" cutting the vine – because the spies performed this act as representatives of the entire nation, who thereby collectively became owners over the Land of Israel. This was the moment when the Jewish People established their eternal ownership over our beloved land.

Parashat beaalotekha - Message du Rav avant Shabbat by Rav David Touitou

Rashi writes at the beginning of this week's parasha, Beha'alotecha , when Aharon saw all of the Nasi'im bringing big donations to the inauguration of the Mishkan, חלשה דעתו – he felt bad that he did not have a part in them. Hashem told Aharon שלך גדול משלהם – your portion is better than theirs. Your job will be to light the Menorah and prepare the wicks . How is that better? Some of the ba'aleh mussar explain the give and take as follows. Aharon saw how others were serving Hashem and he felt bad that he couldn't serve Hashem like they were. Hashem told Aharon, I don't get impressed by how big a donation is or by what it consists of. What impresses Hashem is that each person does the job that He wants them to do – שלך גדולה – you have to consider your job the greatest job of all because only you could do it and nobody else could. Sometimes we look around at what others are accomplishing and we feel bad that we aren't doing the same. Everybody has a different job in this world to do. It does not matter what others are doing. What matters is if we are doing what we are capable of doing. Hashem loves each and every person's avodah , not because of what it is but because of who it is coming from. Even if someone has been underachieving in the past, Hashem is waiting, kavayachol, with open arms to once again become close with him. Whatever we do He adores and when we want to get closer, Hashem helps us do it. Rabbi Yechiel Spero told a story about a young couple who moved to Baltimore. On their first Shabbat as newlyweds, the bride Sarah escorted her husband to shul on Friday night. As she was sitting in the ladies' section, she noticed it was messy and decided to clean it up and organize it. While she was putting away the siddurim on the bookshelf, she saw a tefillin bag buried underneath a bunch of objects. Sarah took it and put it on a noticeable shelf so the one who it belonged to would be easily able to find it. After she finished cleaning, she admired what she did and decided to come back and do it every week. She noticed week after week the tefillin were always in that spot she put them in. She came back on a weeknight and took a picture of the bag and put up a sign with her number saying, whoever knows whose tefillin these are should please call her. She then took the tefillin to her house for safekeeping. Weeks later, she got a phone call from a woman who said she recognized the name on the bag. She was almost positive that it belonged to her old neighbor's son. That family had moved to Israel five years earlier. Although she hadn't spoken to them in years, she did have their phone number and happily gave it to Sarah. When Sarah called, the phone rang twice and then was declined, so she left a message. Two minutes later, Sarah's phone rang - it was the woman in Israel. After Sarah told her about her experience with the tefillin , she asked this woman if by any chance those tefillin belonged to her son. She heard silence on the line and then some muffled cries. Then the woman began to speak. "My son had gone off the derech 5 years ago. He struggled terribly and stopped wearing his tefillin . Our relationship has been extremely strained. We speak once or twice a year when he needs something. Today, my son called me and said, 'Mom, I want to come home. I am going to start praying again. Do you know where my tefillin are?' While he was asking me that question, your phone number came across my screen. I told him I would find them. Then I heard your message saying you had them." Hashem loves our avodah so much. Even a boy who was off the derech for 5 years, when he wanted to put his tefillin on again, Hashem orchestrated the events with amazing hashgacha to have them ready and waiting at that exact moment. Shabbat Shalom.

Aharon y la menora

We read in Parashat Behaalotecha of the formal consecration of the Leviyim as G-d's special servants who would work in the Mishkan. This process included the offering of sacrifices – specifically, one bull as an Ola (burnt-offering), and a second bull as a Hatat (sin-offering). Rav Levi Yitzhak of Berditchev (1740-1809), in his work Kedushat Levi, notes that pair of sacrifices are listed in two different sequences in this section. When the Torah first mentions the requirement to bring two bulls, it mentions first the Ola, followed by the Hatat (8:8). Later, however, in describing the procedure to be followed for the process of consecration, G-d commands Moshe to offer the Hatat and then the Ola (8:2). Rav Levi Yitzhak explains this discrepancy by citing an insight he heard from his father about the general topic of the sequence required when both an Ola and Hatat are offered. In general, the Hatat offering – which is brought for the purpose of earning atonement – is sacrificed before the Ola, which is sacrificed as a gift to earn Hashem's favor. Quite naturally, as the Gemara (Zebahim 7b) explains, the sinner must first achieve a pardon for his wrongdoing before he can then proceed to win the King's favor and affection. Therefore, the Hatat must be offered before the Ola. However, Rav Levi Yitzchak's father noted, we know that the Ola sacrifice does, in fact, achieve atonement – for sins of Mahashaba (improper thoughts). Although a person who is guilty of having bad intentions is not required to bring a sacrifice, he has the opportunity to achieve atonement through the offering of the optional Ola sacrifice. Seemingly, then, the Ola resembles the Hatat, in that it, too, serves to attain forgiveness, and we must therefore ask why the Hatat is offered before the Ola. Rav Yitzchak Levi's father answered based on the general rule that Hashem does not hold us accountable for our wrongful intentions unless they lead to action. One who harbored wrong intentions does not really need an Ola sacrifice for atonement, since he is not liable to punishment for his sinful thoughts. The exception to this rule is idol-worship. One who harbors thoughts of pagan beliefs is liable to punishment regardless of whether or not he acted upon those thoughts. And therefore, Rav Levi Yitzchak's father asserts, when a sin involving idolatry has been committed, the Ola sacrifice indeed precedes the Hatat, because one must first atone for the thoughts which led to the worship, and then for the worship itself. Returning to the sacrifices of the Leviyim, Rav Levi Yitzhak explains that these offerings were brought on behalf of the entire nation to atone for the grave sin of the golden calf. Fundamentally, as this sin was one of idol-worship, the Ola should have been offered first, before the Hatat, and for this reason, in the initial command, the Ola is mentioned first. However, Rav Levi Yitzhak writes, the truth is that Beneh Yisrael did not truly intend to betray G-d and worship the golden calf. They created a graven image not to replace Hashem, but rather as a means through which they mistakenly thought they could draw close to Hashem. While this was, indeed, a grievous sin, and one which resembled idol-worship, the people did not actually worship a foreign deity. Therefore, when these two sacrifices were actually offered, the Hatat was brought before the Ola, as is done in the case of sins other than idol worship.

Aula ministrada para os alunos da Yeshiva 05/06/2025

La importancia de los numeros

La humildad y el orgullo

La humildad y el orgullo

Parashat Behar begins with the Misva of Shemita, which requires farmers to refrain from agricultural activity for an entire year every seven years. The Torah refers to this year as "Shabbat L'Hashem" – "A sabbath to God" (25:2), and as "Shabbat Shabbaton" (25:4), a phrase whose meaning is not, at first glance, clear. The Seforno (Rav Ovadia Seforno, Italy, 1475-1549) explains the first expression, "Shabbat L'Hashem," to mean that this year is to be devoted to Hashem. G-d commands farmers to refrain from agricultural work so that they can spend this year involved in Torah learning and prayer. Just as we refrain from work one day a week, Shabbat, in order to spend a day engrossed in spirituality, similarly, once in seven years, farmers are to spend a year devoted to the nurturing of their soul. As for the term "Shabbat Shabbaton," the Seforno writes that this instructs farmers to refrain also from certain activities related to agriculture that are not technically forbidden by the formal laws of Shemita. To understand the Seforno's intent, we must take a step back and examine the notion of the "Takanot" – the laws enacted by the Sages to safeguard the Torah. It goes without saying that the Torah is perfect, and does not and will never require any amending. The purpose of the Rabbis' "Takanot" was most certainly not to "improve" the already perfect Torah. Rather, they were intended to uphold the spirit of the law. It is possible, for example, for a person to avoid all the activities forbidden by the Torah on Shabbat, while treating the day not much different than a weekday. A businessman can run his business on Shabbat without performing any acts that constitute Biblical acts of Shabbat desecration. He can go to his office with a non-Jewish taxi service, manage his employees, and even write with a "Shinui" – a deviation, like with his weaker hand – such that he has a pretty typical business day without transgressing any Torah violations. A person can also spend Shabbat cleaning his garage and washing his car without desecrating Shabbat on the level of Torah law. Clearly, however, this is not how the Torah wants us to spend Shabbat. In addition to the letter of the law, there is the spirit of the law, the purpose for which the law exists. The Shabbat prohibitions are intended to create a certain atmosphere, an aura of serenity, joy, calm, holiness, and spiritual growth. The Rabbis saw that people were observing the letter of the law without observing the spirit of the law. In many areas, they were able to abide by the strict letter of the Torah's commands, but while missing the entire point of these commands. And so the Sages enacted many laws in order to ensure that we not only technically observe the Torah's commands, but also achieve the goals which these commands are meant to lead us to. According to the Seforno, this is the meaning of "Shabbat Shabbaton." The Torah indicates to us that besides refraining from the specific forms of agricultural activity forbidden by the laws of Shemita, farmers must also maintain a certain aura during this year, an aura of spiritual engagement and holiness. To that end, they are to refrain from even technically permissible forms of work, so that the Shemita year will be spent in a fundamentally different way than the other six years. What is true about Shabbat and Shemita is true also of our relationships. In a good marriage, the husband and wife do not need to be told what to do for one another, and what not to do. They understand what the other wants, and they try to fulfill those wishes to the best of their ability. I am reminded of the time when a fellow called me to ask if it was acceptable to miss his evening Torah study in order to go out with his wife for their anniversary. I told him that I don't have time for questions such as these. This should not even be asked. It should be obvious that one owes it to his wife to spend time with her on their anniversary. One does not need to ask a Rabbi to authorize his going out with his wife on their anniversary. This is something that he should not need to be told. The fellow went home and said, "The Rabbi said we can go out tonight." This is now how it is done. A man does not spend time with his wife because the Rabbi said so. He spends time with his wife because he knows that this is what she wants and what she expects. He should not wait to be told – by her or by a Rabbi – that this is what he should do. In our relationship with Hashem and in our relationships with other people, we are to extend beyond the technical "dos" and "don'ts," the strict letter of the law, and try as much as possible to do what we intuitively know they want us to do.

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Parashat Achareymot. Importance of reading korbanotپاراشا اخریموت by Rabbi Benjamin Lavian

Parashat Kedushim. Insights into mitzvah of Kivud Av VeEm by Rabbi Benjamin Lavian

Que pasa pasa con las mitzvot y transgresiones cuando uno fallece?

We find in Parashat Kedoshim (19:17) the command "Hochi'ah Tochi'ah Et Amitecha" – to reprimand one's fellow who acts improperly, so that he will improve his behavior. King Shlomo, in the Book of Mishleh (9:8), offers advice regarding the proper approach to the delicate topic of Tocheha – reprimanding and rebuking. He teaches, "Al Tochah Letz Pen Yisna'eka, Hochah Le'hacham Ve'ye'ehaveka" – "Do not reprimand the scoffer, lest he despise you; reprimand the wise, and he will love you." The simple meaning of this verse is that King Shlomo is telling us whom to criticize and whom not to criticize. The "Letz," the "scoffer," should not be expected to accept criticism, and so it is best not to criticize him. Many people are simply not receptive to criticism, as they assume they are always correct, and have little interest in hearing what others have to say. Their instinctive reaction to criticism is something to the effect of, "Who are you to talk?" "What do you know?" "Don't tell me what to do." The wise person, by contrast, understands that he has something to learn from all people, even those who are not necessarily as smart as he is. With wisdom comes the humility to recognize that all people, even the brightest and most successful, make mistakes and have more to learn. And so the wise person is open to constructive criticism, and willing to accept rebuke. Therefore, Shlomo tells us not to bother reprimanding the "Letz," the arrogant cynic, but to offer criticism to the wise person who is open to being corrected and advised. Rav Yaakov Kamenetsky (1891-1986) offered an additional explanation of this verse – suggesting that King Shlomo here teaches us not whom to reprimand, but how to reprimand. He is telling us that when we offer criticism, we should do so in a manner that makes the person feel like a wise person, and not like an evil "scoffer." Unfortunately, our instinct when giving criticism is to emphasize the severity of the misdeed, and how ashamed the person should feel for having committed such an act. This approach, while instinctive, is not only ineffective, but counterproductive. If we emphasize to the person the gravity of his wrongdoing, he is likely to either reject the criticism altogether, or simply despair. He will either not want to own up to the fact that he did something terrible, and thus dismiss the criticism, or he will acknowledge the severity of his bad behavior and decide that he's just bad and so there is no reason for him to try to improve. King Shlomo thus advises us, "Do not reprimand the scoffer" – do not criticize in a way that makes the person feel lowly. Instead, "…reprimand the wise" – make him feel important, wise and capable. The right way to criticize is by emphasizing to the individual his greatness, his vast potential, how much Hashem loves him and wants him to do the right thing, how much he is capable of achieving. If we criticize in a manner that makes the person feel "wise" and capable of greatness, then he will embrace the criticism, rather than reject it. This perhaps sheds new light on the continuation of the verse here in Parashat Kedoshim. After commanding, "Hochi'ah Tochi'ah Et Amitecha," the Torah adds, "Ve'lo Tisa Alav Het." This is commonly understood to mean, "and do not bear sin on his account," that is to say, if we fail to criticize, then we are held partially accountable for the person's continued misconduct. Alternatively, however, this could be read to mean, "Do not elevate the sin." When we reprimand, we should not emphasize the severity of the act, which will cause the person to despair. Rather than "elevate" the sin, we should instead elevate the person. We should emphasize not how bad the person behaved, but rather how good he is capable of behaving, how great he can become. This is a critical lesson relevant to education. When raising children or teaching students, the focus must be on building the child's self-esteem, making the child feel capable and helping him realize his potential. Rather than "elevate" the child's inevitable mistakes and failings, we must instead "elevate" his sense of self-worth, so he recognizes how great he can be and sets out to achieve that greatness.

Parashat Kedushim. هدف آفرینش انسان ... احسانیت by Rabbi Benjamin Lavian

Has this ever happened to you?  “Oh no, I got a paper cut!  Blood is coming out of my finger. Well, guess I'll go visit the Holy Tabernacle and/or Temple.” But the priest says, “No way, Moshe!” Tired of not knowing how and when to approach a holy God?  Well, have we got a book for you!  Try Leviticus! That's right, the Bible's ultimate guide to holiness, purity, and weird bodily fluids. Learn what's clean, unclean, and how to deal with it all—even baldness (Good news! Lev. 13:40 says you're still clean!). Leviticus covers it all: atonement, purification, supernatural healing, and priestly inspections—what fun! So whether it's skin diseases or sacred rituals, call now! *Talk to your rabbi to see if Leviticus is right for you. Side…

Most of Parashiyot Tazria and Mesora deals with the intricate laws of Sara'at – a kind of infection which would surface on people's skin, garments, or homes. The Torah outlines specific requirements that must be obeyed by a person who sees a suspicious discoloration that might signify the presence of Sara'at, as well as the procedures to be followed should a discoloration be confirmed as Sara'at. A person confirmed to be stricken with bodily Sara'at would be banished from his city until he is cured. A garment with Sara'at, in certain situations, needed to be burned, and a home stricken with Sara'at would, in some instances, be dismantled. The Rabbis explained that Sara'at would befall a person as a punishment for certain sins. Even Sara'at on the body was not a medical condition, some sort of dermatological disorder. It was rather a punishment that G-d would bring upon a person on account of his misdeeds. In light of this, Rav Moshe Alshich (Sefat, 1508-1593) raised the question of why the Torah begins its discussion of Sara'at by addressing the situation of "Adam Ki Yiheyeh Be'or Besaro Se'et O Sapahat…" – where an "Adam" has a discoloration on his skin. "Adam" is one of several different words used by the Torah in reference to the human being, and the Alshich writes that this word refers specifically to "Shelomeh Emuneh Yisrael" – the faithfully observant among the Jewish people. It signifies a high level of obedience to Hashem, and is thus reserved for those who are religiously committed. The question naturally arises, then, as to why it is used here, in Parashat Tazria, in reference to a person stricken by Sara'at. If Sara'at would befall somebody who was guilty of grave misdeeds, then why is he called "Adam" – a title of distinction reserved for the spiritually devoted? The Alshich answers that to the contrary, it is only those who are generally righteous and pure whose bodies are impacted by the impurity of sin. If a person is entirely impure, then the sins he commits do not affect him to such an extent that he would be stricken by Sara'at because of them. It is only if a person is otherwise pure that an occasional misdeed would result in a Sara'at infection. A stain is noticeable only on an otherwise clean garment; if a garment is already covered with mud, a drop of food that falls on it will not be discernible. Likewise, it is only in a generally "clean" soul that the "stain" of sin causes a Sara'at infection. For this reason, the Alshich writes, Sara'at does not occur nowadays – because we are not on a high enough level of purity that the contamination of an occasional sin would leave an impression in the form of Sara'at. The Alshich explains on this basis a word used by the Torah later in this introductory verse: "VE'HAYA Be'or Besaro Le'nega Sara'at" ("And it shall be in the skin of his flesh a Sara'at affliction"). Ironically, the word "Ve'haya" is understood by our Sages as an allusion to joy. When this word is used, the Gemara (Megilla 10) teaches, it indicates an element of celebration. Seemingly, then, the word "Ve'haya" has no place here in the context of Sara'at infections. The Alshich explains that while the manifestation of Sara'at is, of course, very unfortunate, a harsh punishment brought upon a sinner, at the same time, it is a cause for joy, as it shows the person's overall stature of greatness. The fact that his "stain" is discernible proves that his soul is otherwise "clean." The onset of Sara'at thus brings the joy of knowing that one is generally pure and can retain his state of pristine purity through the process of Teshuba, by correcting the misdeeds for which he was punished with Sara'at.

Remazim on parashat Tazria & Teharoutرمازیم پاراشا تزریع و طهارت by Rabbi Benjamin Lavian

Parashat Shemini - Message du Rav avant Shabbat by Rav David Touitou

Our Sages teach us that the world stands on three pillars: Torah , Avodah , and Gemilut Chasadim . Rabbi David Najjar found a fascinating allusion to this concept in a Passuk from this week's Parashah, Shemini . The Passuk states: " ואת העולה המציאו אליו לנתחיה ואת הראש ויקטר על המזבח " — referring to the korban olah . Rabbi Najjar notes that the initial letters of the phrase " ואת העולה המציאו אליו " spell out the divine name with which Hashem created the world — suggesting a connection to the creation of the universe itself. Since the Passuk discusses the korban olah , it clearly alludes to Avodah , one of the world's foundational pillars. Furthermore, the first letters of " לנתחיה ואת הראש " form the word " לוה " — meaning "lent," a reference to Gemilut Chasadim . The final letters of the words " אליו לנתחיה ואת הראש " spell out תושיה" " , a term associated with Torah , as seen in the Passuk from Mishlei: " נצור תושיה ומזימה " ("Guard sound wisdom and discretion"). Hence, this single Passuk subtly contains allusions to the three pillars upon which the world stands. Additionally, another Passuk in the Parashah — " וירא כבוד ה' " ("The glory of Hashem appeared") — has the same gematria (numerical value) as " בצדקה וחסד " ("through charity and kindness"), reinforcing the idea that performing acts of kindness and giving charity is a form of honoring Hashem. Hashem often presents us with opportunities to give tzedakah or perform chesed as a test of our faith and character. Parting with our time or money can be difficult, but we must remember: we never lose by honoring Hashem. He is fully capable of repaying us many times over. One individual shared that a rabbi he knew reached out, requesting help with the final $12,000 needed for a down payment on a home. The rabbi promised to repay $1,000 monthly over the next year. Although it was a significant sum, the man agreed to help. Shortly after, an unexpected announcement regarding the tariffs put all of his orders on hold, causing him to reconsider. However, he reminded himself that he had already committed — and more importantly, that the rabbi needed the funds. He overcame his hesitation and sent the full $12,000. A few days later, he unexpectedly received a check from the IRS for nearly $15,000. Neither he nor his accountant could explain it — until it became clear to him: this was all a test from Hashem. He was never meant to have to give up that money, Hashem just wanted to see if he would be able to part with it in the performance of this great Mitzvah of lending money. Another man shared a similar story. A friend urgently needed $315, and without hesitation, he handed over his credit card. Due to a minor credit card fee, he ended up paying $324. Less than an hour later, he returned home to find that the fencing work he'd commissioned had just been completed. The invoice totaled $3,324 — but the contractor offered to reduce the charge to an even $3,000. The amount waived? Exactly $324. These stories beautifully illustrate the divine providence and care Hashem shows those who give generously. Acts of tzedakah and chesed not only honor Hashem — they bring His blessings into our lives. Shabbat Shalom.

El punte entre lo finito y lo infinito.

The Torah in Parashat Shemini introduces the subject of "Ma'achalot Asurot" – the forbidden foods, outlining the general principles that govern which foods are permissible for consumption and which are not. In its conclusion of this topic, the Torah connects these laws to the concept of Kedusha, the sanctity of Beneh Yisrael: "Ve'hitkadishtem Vi'hyitem Kedoshim Ki Kadosh Ani" – "You shall sanctify yourselves and be sacred, for I am sacred…" (11:44). This association between "Ma'achalot Asurot" and the concept of Kedusha is underscored by the Rambam, who includes these laws in the "Kedusha" section of his halachic code. To explain this connection, Rav Eliyahu Bakshi-Doron (1941-2020), former Sephardic Chief Rabbi of Israel, draws our attention to an important passage in the Midrash Tanhuma (Shemini, 6), which offers an analogy to a doctor who visited two ailing patients. He noticed that the first patient was gravely ill with little chance of surviving, whereas the second was likely to recover. The doctor told the first patient's family member to feed him whichever foods he wanted, whereas the family of the second patient were given very strict instructions regarding the patient's diet. Since the first patient in any event was not likely to live, the doctor explained, he could be allowed to enjoy whichever foods he wished. The second, however, had the potential to live, and so he needed to care for his health so that he could recover. The Midrash explains that the same is true of Am Yisrael and the other nations of the world. While there is no physical difference between us, and our bodies are no different than the bodies of other peoples, we are destined to "live," as the verse says in the Book of Debarim (4:4), "Ve'atem Ha'debekim B'Hashem Elokechem Haim Kulechem" – "And you, who are attached to Hashem your G-d, are living." Rav Bakshi-Doron explains that we are destined to receive a portion in the next world, in the eternal afterlife, where our souls will exist together with Hashem, and this is the "life" to which we are uniquely destined. We are "sacred" in the sense that we are given the potential to build a special connection with the Almighty. Therefore, we are given a special "diet" that we must follow. We of course do not understand the spiritual effects of kosher food and non-kosher food, but Hashem Himself – the greatest "doctor" – informed us of which foods we must abstain from in order to preserve our spiritual health so we can build a unique connection with Him and become the holy people that we are meant to become. Rav Bakshi-Doron adds that this explains why the laws of "Ma'achalot Asurot" appear here in Parashat Shemini, which also tells of the events that took place when the Mishkan was inaugurated. The purpose of the Mishkan, as Hashem famously told Moshe back in Parashat Teruma (Shemot 25:8), is "Ve'shachanti Be'tocham" – that Hashem would reside among His people. Through the Mishkan, Hashem came to live intimately with us, to dwell within each and every member of our nation. The Mishkan, then, signifies the special relationship that we are to build with our Creator, the unique spiritual potential that we have been given. This is the connection between the Mishkan – the most powerful symbol of our unique spiritual potential – and "Ma'achalot Asurot," the laws we must observe in order to bring that potential into fruition. Hashem chose us to become a special nation – and to that end, He equipped us with special potential and abilities. This does not mean we are naturally better than others – rather, it means that we are given the responsibility and the challenge to rise to greater heights, and we are guaranteed the ability to meet this challenge if we truly strive to. Once we recognize our unique spiritual mission, and the unique potential we have to complete this mission, we will feel more confident and more driven to pursue spiritual greatness, to maximize our potential, and become the great people that we are expected to become.

Parashat Shemini Secret of passing away of sons of Ahron پاراشا شمینی، راز از بین رفتن پسران اهرون by Rabbi Benjamin Lavian

Parashat Sheminih پاراشا شمینی ، داستانی از رفتن بعل شمطو به میقوه by Rabbi Benjamin Lavian

Have you been searching for a bunch of Nissan puns, many different versions of the birthday song, and a brand new Birthday New Year Anniversary celebration all in one sermon?  Then listen to this past weeks sermon from Rabbi David.

Parashat Pekoude 5785 - Message du Rav avant Shabbat by Rav David Touitou

Living Emunah 2738 Parashat Pekudei: No Matter What In the beginning of parashat Pekudei, the Torah calls the Mishkan, the Mishkan of testimony. One of the things it testified to was Hashem's great love for us. The Mefarshim are bothered why the Torah repeats so much about the Mishkan in parashiyot Vayakhel and Pekudei, after they were already mentioned in Terumah Tetzaveh. Some explain the Jewish people were commanded to build a house for Hashem before they did the Chet Haegel. After they committed that grievous sin, they felt so distanced from Hashem and feared they would never be able to bring His presence down to dwell amongst them. However, after they made Teshuva, Hashem told Moshe to tell the Jewish people that He wants the exact same Mishkan built with every detail and that He was going to dwell with them. And that is why the details are repeated after the Chet Haegel. We see from here that no matter what a Jew does, Hashem always wants him back. We should never feel that because of our sins that Hashem doesn't want us. All we have to do is say that we are sorry and Hashem will be waiting with open arms, kavyachol, to bring us closer. Rabbi Snir Gueta told a story about a young woman named Shlomit. After years of waiting for a child, her parents were blessed with her birth. Tragically, a few years later, her mother fell ill and passed away, leaving her father to raise her alone. He tried his best to connect to his daughter and give her all the love and attention that he could. As she grew during her teenage years, she began drifting from the religious path that he was trying so hard to keep her on. As she got older, she drifted further until she was constantly arguing with her father about religion. She told him outright she was not interested in being religious. Her father kept telling her that he promised her mother that he would raise her to be a true Bat Yisrael, but she wouldn't change. One day she told her father she was leaving home and moving to India. Her father yelled at her, saying that she was being so insensitive, ignoring his request and leaving him all alone. She apologized for leaving him, but said she was going no matter what. Her father, in a moment of desperation, said to her, "If you leave, you are not welcome back. I will never forgive you for this." Her friends were waiting outside, and she left. She was in India for three years. At that time, one of her friends from Israel traveled there, and when she saw her, she hugged her, telling her how much she missed her. And then she gave her her condolences over the death of her father. Shlomit couldn't believe what she was hearing. She had no idea that her father passed away. She began crying uncontrollably, regretting the nonsense that she had been involved in over the past three years, completely abandoning her father and Hashem. She took the next flight back to Israel, and went straight to the cemetery, searching for her father's grave. When she finally found it, she sat there, crying, begging for him to forgive her. She said, "Please, Abba, I made the worst mistake. I will come back to Hashem now. All I want is for you to forgive me." She then went to the Kotel. She stood right by the mechitza between the men and women, and pulled out a piece of paper and wrote a note to Hashem, asking Him to please show her if her father forgave her for what she did. She put the note in the wall, and it immediately fell out. There was no room in any hole there for her note. She saw by the edge of the mechitza, in the men's section, an opening, and she put it there. When she put it down, another note fell out. She picked it up, and saw the name Shlomit bat Chana. She opened it, and began to read, and started to tremble. It said, "Borei olam, my daughter is in India, please bring her back to Teshuva. Her name is Shlomit Bat Chana. If I could talk to her right now, I would tell her that I forgive her for everything. All I want is for her to come back to You, Hashem." Shlomit broke out in tears, and thanked Hashem, and fully came back to Torah and Mitzvot. A human father is willing to take his daughter back, no matter what she does. All the more so, Hakadosh Baruch Hu wants every one of His children back, no matter what they have done. Hashem loves and wants every Jew close to Him. All we have to do is be sincere. Shabbat Shalom.

We read in Parashat Pekudeh (40:2) of G-d's command to Moshe that the completed Mishkan should be erected on Rosh Hodesh Nissan, the first day of the month of Nissan. The Midrash tells that in truth, the artisans built the various parts of the Mishkan very quickly, and the Mishkan was ready to be assembled already earlier, on the 25 th of Kislev, a little over two months after the work began. However, Hashem decided to postpone the assembly of the Mishkan until the month of Nissan, due to the unique significance of this month. The Midrash continues that the 25 th of Kislev "protested," as it were, objecting to its having been denied the privilege of being a special day, the day of the Mishkan's inauguration. Hashem assured this day that it will be compensated – and, sure enough, many centuries later, the 25 th of Kislev became the first day of the joyous holiday of Hanukah, celebrating the Jews' miraculous triumph over the Greeks and the rededication of the Bet Ha'mikdash, which the Greeks had defiled. The day of 25 Kislev was at first denied its holiday – but it was later compensated with "interest." Whereas the first of Nissan, commemorating the inauguration of the temporary Mishkan, is not marked by a great deal of fanfare, the 25 th of Kislev became a day of great festivity observed by Jews around the world for millennia. The Midrash's comments bring to mind a different Midrashic account, regarding the fish in the Yam Suf (Sea of Reeds). When Hashem drowned the 600 Egyptian horsemen who had pursued Beneh Yisrael into the sea, the fish were overjoyed, and prepared to indulge in the robust feast that had just been presented to them. But just as they were set to eat, the bodies of the Egyptian horsemen were sent ashore. Beneh Yisrael feared that the soldiers had not drowned, but rather came ashore, and thus still posed a threat. In order to allay the people's concerns, Hashem had the sea expel the remains of the Egyptian warriors onto the shore where they were standing, so they would see them and know that their pursuers were indeed dead, and they were thus no longer in danger. The fish were, naturally, disappointed over the sudden loss of the large amounts of food that they thought they would soon be enjoying. Hashem repaid the fish years later, during the battle waged by Beneh Yisrael in the times of the prophetess Deborah against the army of Sisera. During this war, Hashem drowned the enemy's 900 chariots in the Kishon River. As compensation for having lost the 600 Egyptian horsemen – the fish were given 900 Canaanite soldiers. This is a reason given for the custom that many have to ensure to eat fish on Shabbat. Many people might have serious misgivings about closing their businesses on Shabbat, or about taking off from work, worrying about the loss of income. The fish reminds them that Hashem always repays in full – and with "interest" – for the sacrifices we make for Misvot. Whatever expense or loss we incur for the sake of a Misva is more than worth it – because we are guaranteed to receive much more than we've lost. The Gemara (Besa 15b) teaches that Hashem tells us: "My children! Borrow on My account to make the day [of Shabbat] sacred, and trust Me that I will repay." Hashem guarantees that all the money we spend for Shabbat and holidays is being charged to His account, and He will repay us in full. And, as we have seen, He not only repays the money we spend, but also gives us much more. Performing Misvot is always the greatest investment we can ever make, one which guarantees to bring us the most profitable returns.

Parashat VaYakhel - Uncertainty by Rabbi Avi Harari

In the beginning of Parashat Vayakhel, we read that Moshe assembled Beneh Yisrael and conveyed to them Hashem's command to observe the Shabbat. He singled out in particular the prohibition against kindling a fire on Shabbat: "Lo Teba'aru Esh Be'chol Moshebotechem Be'yom Ha'Shabbat" – "Do not kindle fire in all your residences on the day of Shabbat" (35:3). Different explanations have been given for why Moshe singled out this prohibition, which is but one of numerous restrictions by which we are bound on Shabbat. Rav Moshe Alshich (Sefat, 1508-1593) offers a unique interpretation of this verse, explaining that it speaks of kindling fire as part of the process of building the Mishkan. Moshe reiterated the command of Shabbat observance here as an introduction to the command to build the Mishkan, which appears immediately following this brief section regarding Shabbat. He was telling the people that although Hashem required them to build the Mishkan, the site of His residence among them, a project that was of paramount importance to the nation, nevertheless, this undertaking did not override the Shabbat prohibitions. Meaning, the work to build the Mishkan was to be suspended during Shabbat. Now the people might have wondered why this was the case. After all, once the Mishkan was built, sacrifices were offered there seven days a week, even on Shabbat, despite the fact that this entailed the suspension of several Shabbat prohibitions, such as slaughtering animals, and burning the various parts of the animal on the altar. We would have thus reasoned that if the service in the Mishkan was important enough to override the Shabbat restrictions, then the construction of the Mishkan, too, should warrant suspending these prohibitions, due to the singular importance of the service of Hashem in this site. Moshe responded to this question in this verse, by commanding, "Do not kindle fire in all your residences on the day of Shabbat." He emphasized that burning is forbidden on Shabbat in "your residences," and is allowed on Shabbat only in Hashem's "residence." Once the Mishkan was erected, it was considered the Almighty's residence, where the Shabbat laws were not binding. During the process of the Mishkan's construction, however, the Mishkan was not yet Hashem's residence. Until its completion, it was still considered the people's residence. As such, kindling fire was not allowed, even for the sake of building G-d's residence. It was only in the completed structure, once the Shechina (divine presence) descended and dwelled within it, that burning was permitted in the service of Hashem. Before that point, however, when the building site was still the people's residence, and not G-d's, burning was forbidden.

Parasha Vayakhel and Parah - The Red cow ( 2 sefer Torahs taking out, Big segulah for this week )

At the beginning of this week's parasha , Titzaveh , Bneh Yisrael were commanded to bring שמן זית זך —pure olive oil—to light the menorah . Only the very first droplets from each olive were permitted for this purpose. Chazal tell us that although only 12 hours' worth of oil was placed in the lamps, the flames miraculously burned for a full 24 hours—demonstrating Hashem's presence among the Jewish people. The menorah represented the light of Torah. The Gemara states that whoever wishes to attain wisdom in Torah should face slightly southward while reciting the Amida , because the menorah , which symbolizes Torah wisdom, stood in the southern part of the Beit HaMikdash . The power of Torah is far beyond our comprehension. The Midrash tells us that Shlomo HaMelech constructed ten menorot for the Beit HaMikdash , each with seven lamps, totaling 70 flames—corresponding to the 70 facets of Torah. Chazal further teach that as long as those flames were burning, the 70 nations of the world remained subservient to Am Yisrael . But from the day those flames were extinguished, those nations gained power over us. All of our strength comes from Torah. The Sefer Sas Be'Imratecha records a powerful story about Rabbi Moshe Chevroni, the former Rosh Yeshiva of Yeshivat Chevron . At one point, he wasn't feeling well and went to the doctor for an evaluation. After running tests, the doctor informed him that he had been diagnosed with a serious illness and had only three months left to live. His family and talmidim were devastated. But instead of falling into despair, the Rosh Yeshivah made a firm decision—he would dedicate these final months to learning Torah without interruption , stopping only for the most basic necessities. And so he did. He immersed himself in Torah study, and Baruch Hashem , instead of living for just three more months, he lived for another 20 years. The Steipler Gaon , upon hearing this, remarked in amazement, "Hashem gave him a blow, but instead of breaking from it, he elevated himself—and the merit of his Torah added 20 years to his life." What was even more astonishing was that throughout those two decades, he never required treatments that would prevent him from learning. He continued delivering his regular shiurim and prayed with the yeshiva minyan every single day. The Chozeh of Lublin once had a long line of people waiting to see him for berachot and advice. Suddenly, in the middle of his appointments, he asked everyone to step out of the room for a few moments. Once the room was empty, he locked the door. One of his chasidim , eager to learn from the Rebbe , hid inside the room to see what he was going to do. To his astonishment, he saw the Rebbe take out a Mishnayot and begin learning a perek . Unable to contain his curiosity, the chasid revealed himself and asked, "Rebbe, why did you send everyone out just to learn a perek of Mishnayot?" The Chozeh replied, "The last few people who came to me shared their suffering and begged for salvation. I felt that in order to give them a proper beracha, I needed the strength of Torah within me—so I paused to learn first." All of our great rabbanim who had the power to give berachot drew that strength from their Torah learning and purity of character. We must treasure the Torah we have and use our time wisely to learn it in depth. It provides us with the spiritual energy we need to succeed in this world. Shabbat Shalom.

Parashat Zachor A must listen before Shabbat (it will change your Shabbat) ‼️

A person should hear the reading of Parashat Zachor on the Shabbat before Purim from a person who reads according to his tradition. Meaning, a Sepharadi should hear Parashat Zachor read by a Sepharadi, and an Ashkenazi should hear it read by an Ashkenazi. If a Sepharadi normally prays in an Ashkenazic Minyan, he should make a point to attend a Sephardic Minyan for the reading of Parashat Zachor, and vice versa. There are several differences in pronunciation between the Sepharadim and Ashkenazim, such as the pronunciation of the Kamatz vowel. Sepharadim pronounce the Kamatz as a Patah, and thus, for example, they pronounce God's Name as "Ado-NAI." Ashkenazim, however, pronounce the Name as "Ado-NOI." All year round, Halacha allows one to hear the Torah read according to a different custom, but since the reading of Parashat Zachor constitutes a Torah obligation, one should ensure to hear the reading pronounced according to his tradition. Indeed, the Hazon Ish (Rabbi Avraham Yeshaya Karelitz, 1879-1954) wrote a letter declaring that an Ashkenazi cannot fulfill the Misva of Zachor by hearing the section read by a Sepharadi. It must be emphasized that both traditions regarding Hebrew pronunciation are valid and have ancient roots. This is not a question of which is correct and which is incorrect; rather, "Elu Ve'elu Dibreh Elokim Hayim" – both customs are legitimate are grounded in ancient Torah tradition. Sepharadim and Ashkenazim should follow their respective customs, and when it comes to Shabbat Zachor, every person should ensure to hear the reading from somebody who reads according to his family tradition. Surprisingly, the Steipler Gaon (Rabbi Yisrael Yaakov Kanievsky, 1899-1985) wrote a letter asserting that the Sephardic pronunciation of the Kamatz is erroneous, and thus Sepharadim never recite Hashem's Name properly and never fulfill the Misvot involving Berachot and the like. Needless to say, it is quite astonishing to claim that all Sepharadim never properly fulfill these Misvot. Indeed, Rabbi Mazuz wrote a lengthy responsum refuting the Steipler Gaon's contention, and expressing his astonishment that somebody would advance such a claim. He cites numerous sources proving that Sepharadim have always pronounced a Kamatz as a Patah, and that this tradition is many centuries old. For example, Rabbi Shelomo Ibn Gabirol, in his rhyming Azharot hymn, writes, "Anochi Ado-nai, Keraticha Be-Sinai." He clearly intended for Hashem's Name to rhyme with "Sinai," even though the final vowel in Hashem's Name is a Kamatz, and the final vowel of "Sinai" is a Patah. This proves that he pronounced the two vowels identically. Similarly, Rabbi Yehuda Halevi wrote in the "Mi Kamocha Ve'en Kamocha" hymn which we sing on Shabbat Zachor, "Bi'ymeh Horpi Mi'kadmonai, Bi Diber Ru'ah Ado-nai." The word "Mi'kadmonai" – which ends with the Patah sound – is used to rhyme with Hashem's Name. Likewise, in the famous "Sur Mi'shelo" hymn which we sing on Shabbat, the word "Emunai" – which ends with a Patah vowel – is used to rhyme with Hashem's Name ("Sur Mi'shelo Achalnu Barechu Emunai, Sabanu Ve'hotarnu Ki'dbar Adon-nai"). These and other examples clearly testify to an ancient Sephardic tradition to pronounce the Kamatz as a Patah. In his responsum, Rabbi Mazuz expresses his dismay that an Ashkenazic Sage would protest against Sephardic pronunciation, rather than addressing the problems that arise from the conventional Ashkenazic pronunciation. Ashkenazim generally make no distinction in their pronunciation between an "Ayin" and an "Alef," which yields very problematic results when pronouncing verses like, "Va'abatetem Et Hashem" ("You shall serve God"). If one pronounces the "Ayin" in "Va'abatetem" as an "Alef," then he ends up saying, "You shall eradicate God," Heaven forbid. This is a far graver concern than pronouncing Hashem's Name as "Ado-nai" in accordance with a longstanding Sephardic tradition. Furthermore, Rabbi Mazuz notes, there were several great Ashkenazic Sages who adopted the Sephardic pronunciation because they felt it was more authentic. The Arizal (Rabbi Yishak Luria of Safed, 1534-1572), for example, was an Ashkenazi, and yet he adopted the Sephardic pronunciation and prayer text. And it is told that Rabbi Natan Adler of Pressburg (the teacher of the Hatam Sofer) hired Rabbi Haim Moda'i of Turkey, a Sepharadi, to teach him Sephardic pronunciation. Thus, as mentioned, both traditions are valid, and everyone should use the pronunciation followed by his family's tradition. Summary: A Sepharadi should ensure to hear Parashat Zachor read in Sephardic pronunciation, and an Ashkenazi should ensure to hear Parashat Zachor read in Ashkenazic pronunciation.

In the wake of unimaginable personal loss, Haratio Spafford wrote the well known hymn: "It Is Well with My Soul.” Spafford's story, marked by grief and tragedy, invites us to explore how we can find shalom amidst life's deepest sorrows. Drawing on Scripture, including the rabbinic idea of God's Shekinah (abiding presence), we discover two enduring truths that enable us to say, “It is well with my soul.” First, God is with us, holding our hand through our pain.  And second, He is making all things right.  To learn more, check out…

In this week's parasha, Teruma, Hashem told Moshe: דבר אל בני ישראל ויקחו לי תרומה -speak to the Jewish People and ask them to donate toward the construction of the Mishkan. The Ba'al HaTurim quotes a pasuk in Yeshayahu, דברו על לב ירושלים , to explain that here Hashem was asking Moshe to appease the Jewish people before requesting donations. Why? Because He was about to ask them to part with their money. The Da'at Shraga raises a perplexing question: All of the wealth that the Jews had—their gold, silver, and precious stones—came directly from Hashem. He made them rich in Mitzrayim and at the Yam Suf. Shouldn't they have had a natural sense of hakarat hatov and give happily? Especially considering how central hakarat hatov is to Judaism. We are called Yehudim because we acknowledge and express gratitude for the good we receive. The Midrash tells us that when Hashem commanded Moshe to go to Pharaoh and save Bnei Yisrael, Moshe first had to ask permission from Yitro. Why? Because Yitro had opened his home to him, and Moshe understood that someone who receives kindness must show hakarat hatov . Only after receiving Yitro's permission did Moshe go to redeem the Jewish people. This demonstrates how essential hakarat hatov is. So why did the Jews need to be appeased before giving back to Hashem? The Da'at Shraga answers that the Torah is teaching us a profound lesson. Of course, the Jewish people were obligated to show hakarat hatov and give generously—and indeed, they did! They contributed so much that Moshe had to tell them to stop because there was a surplus. However, the one who gives is not supposed to demand hakarat hatov . As the Chovot Halevavot teaches in Sha'ar Habitachon, when a person does a favor for someone else, he should never mention it again or make the recipient feel indebted. True giving must be unconditional. This principle does not exempt the recipient from showing gratitude, but hakarat hatov must come from the recipient's own initiative—it should never be expected by the giver. For this reason, Hashem asked Bnei Yisrael to donate as if He had never given them anything in the first place. Their hakarat hatov had to be purely from them. When we receive something, we owe hakarat hatov in two ways: First and foremost, to Hashem—because everything we receive ultimately comes from Him. Second, to the person who was chosen as Hashem's messenger to bring us this good. This concept is vital in maintaining strong relationships, particularly in marriage. Many spouses feel unappreciated, which causes them to lose motivation to continue giving. We must remind ourselves: Our reason for giving is because it is Hashem's will. When we give, we are serving Him. Hashem recognizes and rewards every act of giving, even if we receive no appreciation from others. At the same time, a spouse who receives should recognize and express gratitude for what the other does. A little appreciation provides tremendous chizuk and encourages even more giving. But receiving hakarat hatov is a bonus—it should not determine how we act. The Chovot HaLevavot further teaches that when a person gives l'shem shamayim , Hashem guarantees that he will ultimately receive the hakarat hatov he deserves. Our focus should always be on giving without expecting anything in return. And when we live this way, Hashem ensures that we receive what is truly best for us. Shabbat Shalom.

This Week's Parasha Essay is dedicated in memory of RACHEL Bat SARAH The Torah in Parashat Teruma presents the laws for the construction of the Mishkan, which is where sacrifices were offered until the building of the Bet Ha'mikdash in Jerusalem. Later, in Parashat Vayakhel, we read of the fulfillment of these commands, how the Mishkan and its furnishings were built. Already the Gemara (Berachot 55a) notes the glaring discrepancy between the sequence of the commands presented here in Parashat Teruma, and the execution of these commands in Parashat Vayakhel. When G-d presented the instructions for building the Mishkan, He began with the furnishings, detailing the instructions regarding the ark, the table, the Menorah, and the altar, before proceeding to the instructions regarding the structure of the Mishkan. In Parashat Vayakhel, however, we read that the artisans first constructed the Mishkan, and only then built the furnishings. The Gemara tells that when Moshe relayed G-d's instructions – in the sequence they were given – to Besalel, the chief artisan, Besalel pointed out that the sequence was backward. He noted that the building must be constructed first, before the furnishings, as otherwise there will be nowhere to store the furnishings in the interim. Moshe confirmed to Besalel that he was correct. The question remains, however, why did Hashem present the commands regarding the furnishings before presenting the requirements for building the structure, if He in fact wanted the building to be constructed first? Rav Yehoshua Heller (1814-1880), in his Dibreh Yehoshua, offers an approach to answer this question (which also explains a number of other discrepancies between the commands in Parashat Teruma and the execution of these instructions in Parashat Vayakhel). He attributes the change in sequence to the event of Het Ha'egel – the sin of the golden calf – which transpired in between. Hashem presented these commands before the sin of the golden calf, and thus the instructions reflect the reality before Beneh Yisrael worshipped the calf, when they were still on the pristine spiritual level that they had attained at the time of Matan Torah. The building of the Mishkan, however, occurred after Het Ha'egel, when the people had fallen from that level. The structure of the Mishkan, Rav Heller explains, represents the human body, our limbs, the actions we perform, whereas the furnishings housed in the Mishkan symbolize our interior, our emotions, our feelings. Ideally, our feelings and our actions should be fully in synch with one another. We should always feel motivated to serve Hashem, to fulfill His will, to perform the Misvot, to live the way we are supposed to live, such that our actions – our Misva observance – are a natural outgrowth of our emotions. Indeed, the great Sadikim live with ongoing, consistent passion, and are constantly driven to perform Misvot. Most of us, however, often do not feel this passion. Sometimes we feel motivated and driven to achieve and excel, but sometimes we don't. And the Ramhal (Rav Moshe Haim Luzzato, Italy, 1707-1746), in his classic work Mesilat Yesharim, writes that when a person feels unmotivated, he should push himself to perform Misvot anyway – and his actions will then awaken his motivation. Once we get started, once we accustom ourselves to doing the right thing even when we don't feel like it, the feelings will come. Hence, Rav Heller explains, before Het Ha'egel, when Beneh Yisrael were on a high spiritual level, the furnishings preceded the structure. The people felt the strong drive and desire to serve Hashem, and this passion led them to action. After the sin of the golden calf, however, this passion was not always present. And so at this point, it was necessary for the structure to precede the interior. We often need to perform the actions even when we lack motivation and enthusiasm, and this will gradually ignite our passion for Misvot. This insight, I am certain, resonates with each and every one of us. We have all had occasions when we feel unmotivated, when we were simply "not in the mood," when we had little or no desire to get out of bed on time for shul, to attend a Shiur, to learn, to donate money to charity, or to do other Misvot. The important thing when this happens is to push ourselves do to it anyway, even without motivation, and trust that our efforts will, with time, arouse our emotion and kindle our enthusiasm for Misvot. Although ideally our passion for Misvot should lead us to perform Misvot, sometimes we need to reverse the sequence, to go "outside-in," by first performing the deeds which will have the effect of arousing our enthusiasm.

The pasuk says in this week's Parasha, Shemot, that Pharaoh decreed all the Jewish baby boys should be thrown into the Yeor . But the Torah testifies that the Jewish midwives feared Hashem and did not listen to Pharaoh, but rather they kept the babies alive. The Chafetz Chayim asked, the words, "ותחיינה את הילדים," that they kept the babies alive, seems superfluous, being that the Torah already told us they feared Hashem and did not listen to Pharaoh. The rabbi explained that the Torah here is giving us an insight into the great mesirut nefesh that these women portrayed. The midwives could have easily said that they did not want to continue doing this job anymore, in which case they would've been exempt and had no claims on them from anyone. Pharaoh wouldn't be able to have a claim against them for not violating his decree because it wouldn't be their job anymore. And Hashem wouldn't have a claim against them for killing the babies because they wouldn't be. But they did not want to just exempt themselves. They truly cared about saving the Jewish babies and did not want to take the risk of their potential replacements listening to Pharaoh. So they put their own lives at risk to save others, and Hashem rewarded them for that in a big way. It is very easy for a person to find reasons to exempt himself from something. But if instead he goes out of his way to want to please Hashem, then Hashem gives him Heavenly help in a big way. The sefer Toratcha Sha'ashuay tells the following story about the great zechut that a woman got from going out of her way to help someone in need. There was a 13-year-old boy learning in one of the great yeshivot in Europe. He was the youngest in the yeshiva and one of the only ones without a bench to sleep on at night. The boys learned in an old shul and ate the meals by people's houses. They slept in the shul and whoever didn't get a bench had to sleep on the floor. In the bitter cold winter, this was extremely hard. This boy couldn't sleep at night and was therefore having trouble learning during the day. One day he received a letter from his uncle asking him if he wanted to come and work in his business. This uncle did not have any children and he promised his nephew if he would come work for him, he would leave him all his possessions when he would pass on from this world. The boy had a very big internal struggle deciding what to do. On one hand, he knew how valuable Torah study was, but on the other hand, he was having an extremely difficult time with it. And that night, as he was lying down on the ice-cold floor, he decided he was going to take the offer. About an hour later, a widow came knocking on the front door of the shul. This boy was the only one awake and he went to see who was there. The widow explained she just finished sitting shiva for her husband. He sold blankets for a living and left a lot of them in the house. She said she wanted to donate some to the yeshiva. This boy took the blankets and for the first time was able to sleep normally. That made him decide to stay in the yeshiva, and eventually he became the Gadol Hador who affected tens of thousands of people in his lifetime: Maran HaGaon Harav Shach. When the widow passed away in 1975, Rav Shach attended her funeral and told the students how she saved his life with that act of kindness. The Hashgacha of her coming in the middle of the night on the same night that the young Rav Shach was planning on leaving was amazing. We can say about this woman ותחיינה את הילדים, she gave life to the boy. She was motivated l'shem shamayim , and Hashem gave her tremendous s iyata dishmaya to benefit from that act of chesed for all eternity. We should always do our best to go out of our way to help others, even if we may be exempt, because we never know what each act will produce. Shabbat Shalom.

In this week's parasha , Vayechi, Yaakov tells Yehuda, " יהודה אתה יודוך אחיך ", that he will be the king, and the Jewish people will be named after him— Yehudim . This honor was granted to Yehuda because of his ability to admit his guilt, even when it would lead to public humiliation. The Midrash recounts that when Yehuda convened a bet din to judge Tamar, he served as its head, with Shem ben Noach and his grandfather Yitzchak Avinu as the other two members. Their ruling was to sentence Tamar and the twins she was carrying to death. However, right before Tamar was to be executed, she subtly hinted to Yehuda that she was not guilty, but rather he was. At that moment, Yehuda faced a profoundly difficult decision. He was the head of the bet din , a highly respected leader, and in the presence of two of the greatest individuals in history. He could have ignored Tamar's hint and proceeded with the execution. If he had done so, no one would have ever discovered Yehuda's involvement. Alternatively, he could have delayed the proceedings until the commotion died down by claiming there was new evidence to investigate. This approach would have allowed him to quietly resolve the situation later, preserving his reputation and ensuring Tamar remained unharmed. But Yehuda chose neither of these options. Instead, he stood up in front of everyone and declared, "She is right, I am wrong." Yehuda's ability to control himself and prioritize truth over his own honor earned him the right to become king. This act also granted him the z'chut to father the dynasty that would ultimately bring forth the Mashiach. To be an איש אמת , a person of truth, and to admit guilt even at great personal cost is a remarkable quality. Chazal teach us that emmet is the seal of Hashem. This was the defining trait of Yaakov Avinu, who excelled in emmet . To admit guilt, even when no one else knows the truth except Hashem, is a complete act of emunah . It reflects a person's acknowledgment that Hashem knows all and that they will not hide from the truth. Of course, we do not need to publicly broadcast our wrongdoings. But when circumstances call for it, admitting our guilt is an opportunity to shine. Rav Shach once delivered a deep shiur to the entire Ponevezh Yeshiva on the gemara they were studying. During the lecture, a student asked a question that seemed to completely undermine Rav Shach's argument. Rather than talking his way out of it, Rav Shach immediately admitted, "That's a great question—I see I'm wrong." He closed the gemara and stopped the shiur . Just a minute later, another student proposed an excellent answer to the question, allowing Rav Shach to continue with the shiur . Yet the episode demonstrated how quickly he could admit the truth, even at the risk of embarrassment. Rabbi Yehuda Ades שליט"א , the Rosh Yeshiva of Kol Yaakov, shared a story about his teacher, Rabbi Shlomo Zalman Auerbach ז צ"ל . When Yeshivat Kol Torah was considering Rabbi Shlomo Zalman as their new Rosh Yeshiva, they asked him to deliver a shiur to the entire yeshiva. During the shiur , another rabbi raised a question about his explanation. Rabbi Shlomo Zalman later said he had three potential answers in mind, but in his heart, he felt that all of them were flawed and that the questioner was correct. During the audition, he admitted publicly, "I see I made a mistake. I am wrong." Rabbi Shlomo Zalman was ultimately chosen as the Rosh Yeshiva. One of the decision-makers later remarked, "When I heard the rabbi publicly admit he was wrong, I knew he was the right choice for Rosh Yeshiva." People are not perfect, and it is often difficult to admit when we are wrong. Yet this quality defines us as Yehudim . If the moment arises when we must admit guilt despite the embarrassment, doing so elevates us immeasurably. Shabbat Shalom