In this week's parsha, G-d imparts the Birkat Cohanim (Priestly Blessing) through Moshe to Aharon and his sons (the Cohanim.) "Thus shall you bless the Children of Israel, by saying: 'May G-d bless you and guard you; May G-d cause His face to shine upon you and favor you; May G-d raise His face towards you and give you peace.'" Cohanim, descendants of Aharon, still give this blessing today, daily in Sephardic synagogues and in Israel, and on holidays in Ashkenazic synagogues outside Israel.
Why does the Hebrew word "ko" (thus), an unusual expression, precede the blessing?
The use of the word "ko" alludes to our forefather Avraham, whom G-d blessed while pointing out the countless stars in the sky: "Thus shall your offspring be." (Bereishit 15:5) The three blessings in the Birkat Cohanim remind us of our three forefathers, Avraham, Yitzchak and Yaakov. The Birkat Cohanim is introduced with the word "ko" to indicate that the true blessing of the Jewish people is that each of us strives to become like our forefathers. We ask G-d to bless us in the merit of our forefathers.
There are many interpretations of each of the three blessings that comprise the Birkat Cohanim. Here is one explanation:
"May G-d bless you" refers to material possessions – food, homes and income. May we have what we need.
"And guard you" refers to the safekeeping of material possessions. G-d determines what becomes of our possessions: they should not be stolen, damaged or misused.
"May G-d shine His face upon you" is a spiritual blessing. It means may G-d hear our prayers, and may He give us understanding when we learn Torah.
"And favor you" means may G-d do this even when we don't merit it.
"May G-d raise His face towards you" means may G-d give us His full attention wherever we are, and watch over all our activities. This is known as hashgacha pratis (Divine Providence) or G-d's personal concern for each of us.
"And give you peace" refers to peace of mind (we should not be troubled by worries); peace of heart (we should not be overtaken by bad inclinations); peace in our relationships; and peace in the world.
As parents, we have a special opportunity each week to convey this ancient blessing upon our children. On Friday evening, in the glow of the Shabbat candlelight, we bless our children with the very words that are written in the Torah, connecting our children to our forefathers as well as to all of the generations preceding us.
Thursday, June 2, 2011
Thursday, May 26, 2011
Bamidbar 5771
In this week's parsha, G-d speaks to Moshe Bamidbar Sinai (in the Sinai Desert) and commands him to "Take the sum of all the congregation of the B'nei Yisrael (Children of Israel.)" The Book of Bamidbar, the fourth book of the Torah, is called Numbers in English because of this census and the later one in Parashat Pinchas.
Surely G-d, in His ultimate wisdom, knows exactly how many Children of Israel there are. Why does He command Moshe to count them?
Rashi answers: "Because of G-d's great love for His people, He counts them all the time. He counted them when they left Egypt. He counted them after they fell in the wake of the sin of the Golden Calf, to know the number of the survivors. And He counted them when He came to manifest His presence within them: On the first of Nissan the Sanctuary was erected, and [one month later] on the first of Iyar He counted them."
From The Midrash Says: "A person invests time and effort to inspect and count objects that are precious to him. The more valuable the item, the more carefully will he scrutinize it. The Almighty frequently counts K'lal Yisrael, demonstrating that every individual Jew is important. Therefore, the Torah goes to great lengths to detail the numbers of the Jewish people."
According to Rabbi Shaul Rosenblatt on www.aish.com, G-d counts us because He wants us to know that each one of us matters. "We are not a nation of millions; we are special individuals who together make a nation. No one is dispensable. If one of us disappears, G-d notices and cares."
As parents, each one of our children is precious. Each child is special in her own way. We love each one independently of the others, no matter how many children we have. In this way, we emulate G-d's love for us.
Surely G-d, in His ultimate wisdom, knows exactly how many Children of Israel there are. Why does He command Moshe to count them?
Rashi answers: "Because of G-d's great love for His people, He counts them all the time. He counted them when they left Egypt. He counted them after they fell in the wake of the sin of the Golden Calf, to know the number of the survivors. And He counted them when He came to manifest His presence within them: On the first of Nissan the Sanctuary was erected, and [one month later] on the first of Iyar He counted them."
From The Midrash Says: "A person invests time and effort to inspect and count objects that are precious to him. The more valuable the item, the more carefully will he scrutinize it. The Almighty frequently counts K'lal Yisrael, demonstrating that every individual Jew is important. Therefore, the Torah goes to great lengths to detail the numbers of the Jewish people."
According to Rabbi Shaul Rosenblatt on www.aish.com, G-d counts us because He wants us to know that each one of us matters. "We are not a nation of millions; we are special individuals who together make a nation. No one is dispensable. If one of us disappears, G-d notices and cares."
As parents, each one of our children is precious. Each child is special in her own way. We love each one independently of the others, no matter how many children we have. In this way, we emulate G-d's love for us.
Thursday, May 19, 2011
Bechukotai 5771
The name of this week's parsha, Bechukotai, means "in My statutes." The parsha begins with the conditional statement: "If you will go in My statutes, and you will observe My commandments and perform them..."
What does it mean to "go in" G-d's statutes?
Rashi notes that the phrase cannot refer to the observance of all of the Torah's mitzvot because that is the subject of the second phrase. By inference, Rashi concludes that "go in My statutes" means that we must diligently labor in Torah study.
Rabbi Yisroel Jungreis and Rabbi Osher Anshel Jungreis in Torah for Your Table write that "going" connotes constant movement. "We never graduate from Torah study; as long as we are alive, we must continue to delve into its deep secrets…for it is only when we study and teach with passion, with every fiber of our beings, that we will reap the full benefits of this toil."
The Admor of Slonim explains in his Netivot Shalom that the term "go in My statutes" means that we go along the path of life in a manner that is consistent with the Torah's statutes. This does not refer to the technical fulfillment of the mitzvot. Rather, Torah with all its mitzvot, teaches us how we must live and think. We can apply this "Torah attitude" to every aspect of our lives, even those not governed by specific laws.
As Jews, we follow the path of our ancestors; as parents, we must ensure that our children follow in our own footsteps. We must be especially conscious to "walk the walk" and not just "talk the talk." Rabbi Tzadok of Lublin explains that learning Torah has the power to guide people and protect us from sin. Those who do not seek the deeper meaning of Torah do not receive its spiritual guidance. They cannot be considered to be learning Torah, but only speaking the words of Torah. If we want our children to "go in" G-d's statutes, then we must "go in" them ourselves.
What does it mean to "go in" G-d's statutes?
Rashi notes that the phrase cannot refer to the observance of all of the Torah's mitzvot because that is the subject of the second phrase. By inference, Rashi concludes that "go in My statutes" means that we must diligently labor in Torah study.
Rabbi Yisroel Jungreis and Rabbi Osher Anshel Jungreis in Torah for Your Table write that "going" connotes constant movement. "We never graduate from Torah study; as long as we are alive, we must continue to delve into its deep secrets…for it is only when we study and teach with passion, with every fiber of our beings, that we will reap the full benefits of this toil."
The Admor of Slonim explains in his Netivot Shalom that the term "go in My statutes" means that we go along the path of life in a manner that is consistent with the Torah's statutes. This does not refer to the technical fulfillment of the mitzvot. Rather, Torah with all its mitzvot, teaches us how we must live and think. We can apply this "Torah attitude" to every aspect of our lives, even those not governed by specific laws.
As Jews, we follow the path of our ancestors; as parents, we must ensure that our children follow in our own footsteps. We must be especially conscious to "walk the walk" and not just "talk the talk." Rabbi Tzadok of Lublin explains that learning Torah has the power to guide people and protect us from sin. Those who do not seek the deeper meaning of Torah do not receive its spiritual guidance. They cannot be considered to be learning Torah, but only speaking the words of Torah. If we want our children to "go in" G-d's statutes, then we must "go in" them ourselves.
Monday, May 16, 2011
Behar 5771
This week's parsha begins with the mitzvah of shemittah (the Sabbatical year), which commands that every seventh year in Israel, the land must be left uncultivated. "When you come to the Land that I am giving you, the Land should rest a Sabbath to G-d. You may sow your field for six years, and for six years you may prune your vineyard and gather its produce, but in the seventh year, the Land should have a complete rest, a Sabbath to G-d."
The parsha gets its name, Behar, which means "on the mountain," from its opening. "G-d spoke to Moshe at Mount Sinai." This is puzzling. We know that G-d gave all of the commandments at Mount Sinai. Why does the verse emphasize that the mitzvah of shemittah is given at Mount Sinai?
The laws of shemittah are an excellent way to prove that no human being could have written the Torah, or invented the laws of Judaism. Only G-d could have done this, from Mount Sinai. Shemittah sounds illogical and impractical. The seventh year, we cannot till the ground, plant for the following year or harvest what has already grown. Essentially, this means that what we harvest the sixth year must last for three years (the sixth, the seventh, and the eighth, since we do not work the land in the seventh.)
It seems that G-d anticipates our concern, our natural tendency to worry. "When you will say, 'what will we eat in the seventh year, if we will not sow, and we will not gather our produce from the crops which grow on their own?' I will direct My blessing to you in the sixth year and it will yield produce [sufficient] for three years." G-d tells us, "Do not worry. Trust Me. If you are patient and trust Me, I will sustain you."
It is a great test to maintain trust in G-d. We must trust that all obstacles will disappear in due time – if we believe in G-d and that He is in control. We must consciously decide to release ourselves from the pressures of our natural tendency to worry. The great Chassidic master, the Baal Shem Tov, says that fear creates walls around us that bar the light from shining through. We must consciously banish the fear and open ourselves to trust.
As parents, it is natural to worry about our children, no matter how old they are. Knowing this, Jewish law urges us to take precautions: for example, the Talmud (Kiddushin 29a) obligates us to teach our children to swim; Torah in Parashat Ki Tetze requires us to fence our rooftops. Modern law insists upon seatbelts and recommends helmets. But after all is said and done, and we have provided all we can for our children's welfare, we should not waste time and energy worrying about what may happen to our children. We only plant the seeds and nurture the plants; the rest is up to G-d.
The parsha gets its name, Behar, which means "on the mountain," from its opening. "G-d spoke to Moshe at Mount Sinai." This is puzzling. We know that G-d gave all of the commandments at Mount Sinai. Why does the verse emphasize that the mitzvah of shemittah is given at Mount Sinai?
The laws of shemittah are an excellent way to prove that no human being could have written the Torah, or invented the laws of Judaism. Only G-d could have done this, from Mount Sinai. Shemittah sounds illogical and impractical. The seventh year, we cannot till the ground, plant for the following year or harvest what has already grown. Essentially, this means that what we harvest the sixth year must last for three years (the sixth, the seventh, and the eighth, since we do not work the land in the seventh.)
It seems that G-d anticipates our concern, our natural tendency to worry. "When you will say, 'what will we eat in the seventh year, if we will not sow, and we will not gather our produce from the crops which grow on their own?' I will direct My blessing to you in the sixth year and it will yield produce [sufficient] for three years." G-d tells us, "Do not worry. Trust Me. If you are patient and trust Me, I will sustain you."
It is a great test to maintain trust in G-d. We must trust that all obstacles will disappear in due time – if we believe in G-d and that He is in control. We must consciously decide to release ourselves from the pressures of our natural tendency to worry. The great Chassidic master, the Baal Shem Tov, says that fear creates walls around us that bar the light from shining through. We must consciously banish the fear and open ourselves to trust.
As parents, it is natural to worry about our children, no matter how old they are. Knowing this, Jewish law urges us to take precautions: for example, the Talmud (Kiddushin 29a) obligates us to teach our children to swim; Torah in Parashat Ki Tetze requires us to fence our rooftops. Modern law insists upon seatbelts and recommends helmets. But after all is said and done, and we have provided all we can for our children's welfare, we should not waste time and energy worrying about what may happen to our children. We only plant the seeds and nurture the plants; the rest is up to G-d.
Thursday, May 5, 2011
Emor 5771
This week's parsha contains the mitzvot (commandments) concerning the Omer offering. In the times of the Holy Temple, on the second day of Pesach (16 Nisan), we are commanded to bring an Omer, an offering of barley, to the Temple. The Torah further instructs us to count 49 days from the offering until the day before the festival of Shavuot (6 Sivan). Today, without a Holy Temple, only the second mitzvah can be performed – the counting – which in Hebrew is known as Sefirat HaOmer. "From the day following the first rest day [of Pesach] – the day you bring the Omer as a wave offering – you should count for yourself seven weeks…You should count up until [but not including] fifty days, the day following the seventh week."
Sefer HaChinuch writes that the purpose of Sefirat HaOmer is to count towards the day of Matan Torah, the Giving of the Torah, which the festival of Shavuot commemorates. We count to demonstrate our excitement about reaching this holy day, and to prepare ourselves spiritually. Rav Yosef Salant in his work Be'er Yosef points out that from the Sefer HaChinuch's explanation, it is difficult to see a connection between the Omer offering and Shavuot; it simply seems that there were 49 days between the two events and so we count from one towards the other.
What is the connection between the seemingly separate occasions of the Omer offering and Shavuot?
Rav Salant answers by noting the other time the word Omer is used in Torah: in parashat Beshalach, G-d commands the people to gather from the manna "an omer per person." During their time in the desert the people do not have to exert any effort to attain their sustenance; the manna comes directly from heaven and people receive exactly the amount they need, even if they try to gather more. Free of the need to work for food, the people spend time engaged in spiritual activities.
Upon entering the Land of Israel, on 16 Nisan, the manna from heaven stops and the people must begin to work for their food. Torah recognizes that when this change occurs, people might begin to think that their own physical labor is responsible for the success of their crops; they may forget that they still must rely on G-d for successful results. To prevent this, Torah commands us to make the Omer offering, so that we may acknowledge G-d's hand in the success of our endeavors. Torah commands that we begin counting the Omer on the day that the manna stopped, reminding us that the sustenance represented by the Omer is a continuation of the sustenance epitomized by the manna. Rabbi Yohonasan Gefen writes on www.aish.com, Sefirat HaOmer stands as a constant reminder that there is no benefit in working beyond the boundaries of acceptable physical effort, because ultimately G-d is the sole provider of our livelihood.
As parents, the need is great to balance the amount of time we spend working, with the amount of time we are involved with learning Torah and engaged in other spiritual pursuits. During this period of Sefirat HaOmer we should think about the balance of our involvement in spirituality and physicality. Do we make our days count? Do we work more than is really necessary? In our spare time, do we focus on family and learning Torah, or do we bring our work home with us? By asking these questions, we can internalize the lessons of the Omer.
Sefer HaChinuch writes that the purpose of Sefirat HaOmer is to count towards the day of Matan Torah, the Giving of the Torah, which the festival of Shavuot commemorates. We count to demonstrate our excitement about reaching this holy day, and to prepare ourselves spiritually. Rav Yosef Salant in his work Be'er Yosef points out that from the Sefer HaChinuch's explanation, it is difficult to see a connection between the Omer offering and Shavuot; it simply seems that there were 49 days between the two events and so we count from one towards the other.
What is the connection between the seemingly separate occasions of the Omer offering and Shavuot?
Rav Salant answers by noting the other time the word Omer is used in Torah: in parashat Beshalach, G-d commands the people to gather from the manna "an omer per person." During their time in the desert the people do not have to exert any effort to attain their sustenance; the manna comes directly from heaven and people receive exactly the amount they need, even if they try to gather more. Free of the need to work for food, the people spend time engaged in spiritual activities.
Upon entering the Land of Israel, on 16 Nisan, the manna from heaven stops and the people must begin to work for their food. Torah recognizes that when this change occurs, people might begin to think that their own physical labor is responsible for the success of their crops; they may forget that they still must rely on G-d for successful results. To prevent this, Torah commands us to make the Omer offering, so that we may acknowledge G-d's hand in the success of our endeavors. Torah commands that we begin counting the Omer on the day that the manna stopped, reminding us that the sustenance represented by the Omer is a continuation of the sustenance epitomized by the manna. Rabbi Yohonasan Gefen writes on www.aish.com, Sefirat HaOmer stands as a constant reminder that there is no benefit in working beyond the boundaries of acceptable physical effort, because ultimately G-d is the sole provider of our livelihood.
As parents, the need is great to balance the amount of time we spend working, with the amount of time we are involved with learning Torah and engaged in other spiritual pursuits. During this period of Sefirat HaOmer we should think about the balance of our involvement in spirituality and physicality. Do we make our days count? Do we work more than is really necessary? In our spare time, do we focus on family and learning Torah, or do we bring our work home with us? By asking these questions, we can internalize the lessons of the Omer.
Thursday, April 28, 2011
Kedoshim 5771
This week's parsha contains what Rabbi Akiva calls a "major principle" of Torah: "You should love your fellow as you love yourself." The fulfillment of this mitzvah is understood to be the basis of one's fulfillment of the entire Torah. Rabbi Hillel paraphrases the precept as "What is hateful to you, do not inflict upon others." According to Rabbi Hillel, "This is the entire Torah. The rest is commentary."
Writes the Sefer HaChinuch, "A person who loves another as himself will not steal from him, commit adultery with his wife, cheat him of goods or oppress him with words, will not move his boundary [usurp his land], and will not harm him in any way...The root reason for the mitzvah is apparent: for as a person treats another, so will the other treat him; and with this there will be peace among human beings."
How is it possible to love another as one loves oneself?
The great Chassidic master, the Baal Shem Tov, reminds us that we ourselves have many faults, but still love ourselves; so should we love others, despite their faults. Erich Fromm, the social psychologist, explains that we should love others because they are like us. We are all created in G-d's image. First, we must like and respect ourselves; then, we can come to have the same respect and consideration for others.
As parents, if we teach one principle to our children, this should be it. Imagine all of the childhood problems that would fade away if we took this principle to heart. There would be no more playground bullying, cyber-bullying, tattling, or cheating. There would only be empathetic children who consider the feelings of others before they speak or act. Imagine how much kinder and gentler childhood could be. It is our job as parents to make it so.
Writes the Sefer HaChinuch, "A person who loves another as himself will not steal from him, commit adultery with his wife, cheat him of goods or oppress him with words, will not move his boundary [usurp his land], and will not harm him in any way...The root reason for the mitzvah is apparent: for as a person treats another, so will the other treat him; and with this there will be peace among human beings."
How is it possible to love another as one loves oneself?
The great Chassidic master, the Baal Shem Tov, reminds us that we ourselves have many faults, but still love ourselves; so should we love others, despite their faults. Erich Fromm, the social psychologist, explains that we should love others because they are like us. We are all created in G-d's image. First, we must like and respect ourselves; then, we can come to have the same respect and consideration for others.
As parents, if we teach one principle to our children, this should be it. Imagine all of the childhood problems that would fade away if we took this principle to heart. There would be no more playground bullying, cyber-bullying, tattling, or cheating. There would only be empathetic children who consider the feelings of others before they speak or act. Imagine how much kinder and gentler childhood could be. It is our job as parents to make it so.
Friday, April 22, 2011
Chol HaMoed Pesach 5771
Jewish tradition teaches that Passover is so named because G-d passes over the houses of the Jews during the tenth and final plague. This disturbing image of G-d, hopping and skipping over the Jewish homes while causing the death of first-born Egyptians is also hinted at in the Song of Songs, which is read on Passover. "Behold the voice of my beloved comes skipping over mountains, hopping over valleys."
The oral tradition emphasizes that it was G-d himself who skips. The Jerusalem Talmud establishes that G-d personally comes to redeem Israel. He does not send an agent. A verse from Shemot (Exodus) reads: "I will perform judgment. I am G-d." (Here G-d calls Himself the unpronounceable tetragram YHVH.)
What is the significance of G-d's personal involvement in the Exodus?
The Jews in Egypt deteriorate to nearly the lowest level of spiritual impurity and moral decadence. Our Sages teach that G-d saves them just before they fall to the very lowest level of total impurity. Such impure Jews hardly seem worthy of liberation. But G-d frees them anyway.
Judaism teaches that the essential name of G-d is YHVH, and that the essential attribute of G-d is love and compassion. Another name for G-d is Elokim. It is the name for G-d that appears throughout the story of creation, and refers to G-d when He is revealed as Judge, committed to laws, order, justice, consequences, cause and effect. G-d as Elokim responds measure for measure to the choices and deeds of the people. But the name Elokim is only an aspect of the name YHVH. In other words, the divine attribute of justice is an aspect of the attribute of love, and subordinate to it.
Such is the way of parenthood. Because we love our children, we set rules and regulations. We create a world of law and order where choices incur consequences. We judge our children, reward them and discipline them, all for the sake of empowering them to take responsibility and reach their potential. However, because our judgment is due to our love, and therefore subordinate to it, there may be times when we are compassionate towards our children even though they do not deserve it. We will "pass over" our standards of judgment and be compassionate, in order to save our children. We will overrule our rules in the name of love.
On Passover, we remember that when G-d passes over the homes of the Jews, He passes over His attribute of judgment and justice in the name of love. On Passover, we remember that G-d's love is unconditional -- He loves us enough to redeem us even when we are not worthy.
(Excerpted from the writings of Rabbi David Aaron.)
The oral tradition emphasizes that it was G-d himself who skips. The Jerusalem Talmud establishes that G-d personally comes to redeem Israel. He does not send an agent. A verse from Shemot (Exodus) reads: "I will perform judgment. I am G-d." (Here G-d calls Himself the unpronounceable tetragram YHVH.)
What is the significance of G-d's personal involvement in the Exodus?
The Jews in Egypt deteriorate to nearly the lowest level of spiritual impurity and moral decadence. Our Sages teach that G-d saves them just before they fall to the very lowest level of total impurity. Such impure Jews hardly seem worthy of liberation. But G-d frees them anyway.
Judaism teaches that the essential name of G-d is YHVH, and that the essential attribute of G-d is love and compassion. Another name for G-d is Elokim. It is the name for G-d that appears throughout the story of creation, and refers to G-d when He is revealed as Judge, committed to laws, order, justice, consequences, cause and effect. G-d as Elokim responds measure for measure to the choices and deeds of the people. But the name Elokim is only an aspect of the name YHVH. In other words, the divine attribute of justice is an aspect of the attribute of love, and subordinate to it.
Such is the way of parenthood. Because we love our children, we set rules and regulations. We create a world of law and order where choices incur consequences. We judge our children, reward them and discipline them, all for the sake of empowering them to take responsibility and reach their potential. However, because our judgment is due to our love, and therefore subordinate to it, there may be times when we are compassionate towards our children even though they do not deserve it. We will "pass over" our standards of judgment and be compassionate, in order to save our children. We will overrule our rules in the name of love.
On Passover, we remember that when G-d passes over the homes of the Jews, He passes over His attribute of judgment and justice in the name of love. On Passover, we remember that G-d's love is unconditional -- He loves us enough to redeem us even when we are not worthy.
(Excerpted from the writings of Rabbi David Aaron.)
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)