Bo 5772

In this week’s parsha, G-d issues the last three of the ten plagues. During the final one, makat bechorot, G-d passes over every bechor, Jewish firstborn son, and kills every Egyptian firstborn male.  Because of this miracle, the firstborn of the Jewish people are forever sanctified. “Sanctify for Me every firstborn, those who open every womb.”

Today, the mitzvah of pidyon haben (redemption of the [firstborn] son) reminds of us the miracle. When a Jewish woman gives birth to a firstborn male, the father of the child must redeem him, for the modern equivalent of five silver shekels, from a Kohen, a Jewish man who is known to be descended from priests of the Holy Temple.  A father who is a Kohen or a Levite, descended from those who assisted the priests in the Temple service, is exempt, as is a mother whose father is a Kohen or Levite.

 

One of conditions for fulfilling the mitzvah of pidyon haben is that the birth must be natural (non-caesarean), and the result of a mother’s first pregnancy, i.e., not preceded by a miscarriage. What is the purpose of these conditions for pidyon haben?

Rabbi Yissocher Frand suggests that the answer can be found by examining the mitzvah of bikurim, the dedication of first fruits of the harvest to the Holy Temple. Writes Rabbi Frand: “[Bikurim reminds us that] the most natural process still requires the miraculous intervention of Hashem, that we are always dependent on Divine Providence no matter how naturally everything seems to be coming our way.” 

Rabbi Frand continues: “When people have all sorts of trouble conceiving [and delivering] a child, they turn to Hashem and plead with him.  And when the child is finally born, they know full well that it is a priceless gift from Hashem.  But when things go normally [and naturally], they may not realize that the child is just as great a gift from Hashem.” The mitzvah of pidyon haben and its condition of first pregnancy and natural birth reminds us to be thankful even when things go well, when we are most likely to forget that we are always dependent upon G-d.     

Va'eira 5772

In this week’s parsha, Paroh continues to refuse to free the Jewish slaves. G-d sends plagues to convince Paroh to change his mind and release the Jews. Moshe warns the Egyptians before the plagues. Before the seventh plague, hail, Moshe tells them that if they want to save their livestock, they should bring them inside. “The one among Paroh’s servants that feared the word of G-d whisked his servants and livestock indoors.  But the one that paid no heed to G-d’s word left his slaves and livestock in the field.”

After six plagues, one would think that the Egyptians would heed Moshe’s warning. Why did they ignore it?

Midrash identifies “the one that feared the word of G-d” as Iyov and “the one that paid no heed to G-d’s word” as Bilam, two of Paroh’s advisors. We can read about Bilam in Parashat Balak. King Balak hires Bilam to curse the Jews. Upon encountering an angel in the road, Bilam’s donkey refuses to move and miraculously speaks to Bilam, calling attention to the extraordinary event. Rabbi Yissocher Frand sees this as Bilam’s wake-up call that he refuses to heed.

Writes Rabbi Frand: “The Chofetz Chaim points out that the entire episode of Bilam in Torah appears as one long, uninterrupted narrative…with no breaks whatsoever. Why? Because Bilam never stopped to think about what he was doing. He never stopped to take stock and consider the wisdom of his actions…When Moshe issued his warning about the impending hailstorm, Bilam could not be bothered to ‘pay heed’ to it. He was thinking about his own plans, his own agenda. His mind was made up.”

As parents, we are very busy. Despite the advent of modern appliances and new technologies designed to save time and labor -- cars, washing machines, e-mail – we still manage to fill our time and feel as if we have none to spare.  We are more rushed than ever and can barely breathe. We need to slow down, to “pay heed” and think about what is going on. We need to assess our lives to see if we have gone off track.  While this is best done daily, Shabbat is a wonderful opportunity to rest from our busyness and take time for contemplation.  

     

Shemot 5772

In this week’s parsha Moshe (Moses) is born in Egypt. Torah tells that “a man of the House of Levi went and married a daughter of Levi.”

Why doesn’t Torah name Moshe’s parents at this point in the narrative, but only five chapters later (Amram and Yocheved, in next week’s parsha) when Moshe has already reached adulthood and it is established that he will lead the Jews out of Egypt?

The reason Torah does not name Moshe’s parents at this point is because Torah wants the world to know that Moshe is a regular person born to regular parents. While in other cultures and religions, leaders are believed to be descended from gods, Judaism makes it clear that our leaders are human and descended from ordinary people. All of us have the potential for greatness.

Moshe’s mother is, in fact, named in this parsha, but we only know this from the Midrash. Torah says: “Now the King of Egypt spoke with the Hebrew midwives, the one who was named Shifra and he second, Puah.” Midrash says that Shifra is Moshe’s mother and Puah is his sister, Miriam. These courageous women defy Paroh’s (Pharoah’s) orders to kill all newborn Jewish male babies. Moshe’s mother gives birth to him and hides him for three months. Then, she lovingly places him in a basket in the Nile River and Miriam watches as Paroh’s daughter retrieves him. Miriam offers her mother as Moshe’s nursemaid and Moshe’s mother raises him until he is old enough to move into Paroh’s palace.

After being raised in the Egyptian palace, Moshe goes into the field and sees an Egyptian smiting a Jew. “He looked this way and that way, and when he saw there was no man, he smote the Egyptian.”

The literal interpretation is that Moshe looks to see if anyone is watching. When he determines that there is no witness, Moshe defends the Jew. Rabbi Avi Weiss has a different explanation. He writes on www.torah.org; “Moshe was raised in an Egyptian home, but nursed by his biological Jewish mother. As a consequence, Moshe was unsure who he really was. When seeing an Egyptian smiting a Jew, he looked within himself to ascertain whether he should help the Egyptian or defend the Jew. When he fully grasps that he had not firmly established his identity, he makes a decision – he smites the Egyptian part of himself and declares – I am a Jew.”

Nursed by a Jewish mother, and following the example of her bold and courageous actions to protect the Jewish people, Moshe stops wavering, identifies himself and steps in to make a difference.

As parents, we must make certain that we do not waver, and that we identify ourselves boldly and clearly as Jews.  Our confidence and certainty will do much to ensure that our children are secure in their identities as Jews.

Vayechi 5772

In this week's parsha, Yaakov (Jacob) blesses his sons before he dies. His blessings relate to the sons' past deeds and describe the sons' future. When he blesses Shimon and Levi, Yaakov says: "In their afam [wrath], they killed a man…Cursed is their afam [wrath], for it is mighty." Yaakov's words refer to Shimon's and Levi's revenge killing on the inhabitants of Shechem for kidnapping and violating their sister Dina.

Why did Yaakov curse Shimon's and Levi's anger?

The Sages tell us that a person filled with anger is equivalent to an idol worshiper (Shabbos 105b.) When in the throes of uncontrollable anger, a person acts without fear of G-d. Ruled completely by anger and not by reason, a raging person is capable of transgressing the greatest prohibitions, i.e., even killing another person.

One of the Thirteen Attributes of G-d is erech apayim, literally, long nose(s), the Hebrew word for nose being af, but usually translated as slow to anger. Rashi suggests that this is because when we are angry, our nostrils flare. (Shemot 15:8) By contrast, one who is slow to anger takes a deep breath through the nose and uses the powers of intellect to subdue the anger and remain in control.

The Sages teach us that we must constantly pray for help in controlling our anger. Rabbi Akiva would pray daily that he not succumb to anger: May it be Your will, Hashem, that I not become angry, and that I not anger You.

The story is told of a father who, when his children misbehaved and he was in danger of losing his temper with them, would don a special coat. He would calmly walk to the coat closet and slowly and deliberately put on the coat, painstakingly buttoning each of the dozens of brass buttons. By the time he accomplished this, his anger had subsided.

As parents, we must maintain equanimity and remain in control of our emotions. When the juice spills, when the principal calls, when the offenses are more consequential, let calm prevail, breathe, and deal rationally with the situation.

Vayigash 5772

In this week's parsha, Yaakov (Jacob) and his family travel from the famine-plagued Canaan to Egypt to resettle there and to reunite Yosef (Joseph) with his father Yaakov. As the family approaches the section of Egypt called Goshen, Yaakov instructs his son Yehuda (Judah): "He [Yaakov] sent Yehuda before him to Yosef l'horot l'fanav in Goshen."

Why does Yaakov send Yehuda ahead? What is the meaning of l'horot l'fanav?

We see several different but related English translations of l'horot l'fanav: to instruct ahead of him; to show the way before him; to direct him. Rashi writes: "L'horot l'fanav – [This is to be understood as] to clear a place for him and to instruct how he will settle in it. L'fanav [means] before he would arrive there, and l'horot l'fanav [means] to prepare for him a house of study from which instruction shall go forth.''

Based on Rashi's interpretation, the Shelah HaKadosh explains how Yaakov's actions demonstrate his priorities. Yaakov makes sure that his spiritual needs are in place before he takes care of his physical needs. From this, we learn that it is a priority to establish Torah education systems in our communities, especially if we live outside the Land of Israel.

We also learn that it is a priority to transmit Torah to our children. Writes Rav Aharon Lichtenstein on www.parsha.net: "Yaakov was worried about the spirituality of his descendants in Egypt. He knew that his grandchildren would be raised in a foreign society, one with a strong and attractive culture of its own. Therefore, he wanted to be certain that they would still maintain their separate identity…Yaakov sent Yehuda ahead to set up a house of study which was to provide a strong Jewish education for the children who would grow up in Egyptian society. It would give them both firm Torah values and a firm Jewish identity."

Rabbi A.L. Scheinbaum remarks that Yaakov wants Yehuda to prepare a house of study "for him [Yaakov]" meaning, "one that would adhere to the 'old world' precepts and perspectives that characterized his home…[and] that would foster and perpetuate the Patriarchal legacy and its unique characteristic form of Jewishness."

It is interesting to note that the Hebrew language seems to have something to say about the role of parents. The Hebrew word for parents, horim, shares its root with l'horot. The word Torah (literally, instruction) and the Hebrew word for teacher, morah, also are related. Embedded within lashon kodesh (the holy tongue, Hebrew) is the message that we parents are responsible for educating our children in the ways of Torah.

Mikeitz 5772

In this week’s parsha, Paroh asks Yosef (Joseph) to interpret his dreams.  Yosef answers: “[The wisdom to interpret dreams] is not from me. G-d will provide an answer [that will be for] Paroh’s welfare/[that will bring] Paroh peace.”

Because this parsha is read during Chanukah, commentators find many hints within the parsha relating to Chanukah.  How do Paroh's dreams and Yosef’s answer in this verse connect to Chanukah?

 

Rav Shimon Schwab explains why Paroh’s “spirit was agitated” when he awoke from his dream.  Paroh dreamed of lean cows and thin sheaves devouring robust cows and thick sheaves, symbolizing – to borrow from the Chanukah liturgy – giborim be-yad chalashim, rabim be-yad me'atim – the strong in the hands of the weak, the many in the hands of the few.

Writes Rav David Silverberg on www.torah.org: “The Egyptian king had all along relied on his country's military might and economic prowess as the source of his nation's security and the stability of his monarchy.  Now he was suddenly shown the prospect of even the mightiest and most secure suffering defeat at the hands of the feeble.  This image shook the foundations of his sense of security, and he understandably responded with horror and an urgent need to discover the true meaning underlying this dream.”  Had King Antiochus had similar dreams before the Maccabee revolt, he, too, might have been shaken by the possibility of the defeat of his large army by a small group of G-d-revering, Jewish farmer-soldiers. 

Rabbi Boruch Leff on www.aish.com notes that Yosef’s response to Paroh’s request echoes the attitude of the Maccabee warriors upon their victory over the Syrian-Greek army. “They could have easily looked at their stunning and unlikely military victory over the Greeks as a reflection of their prowess and brilliant strategy.  But [just as Yosef understood the source of his ability to interpret dreams,] the Maccabees understood the true source of their strength and military successes. They didn't react by establishing an annual victory parade, in which they would display their latest technology in weapons. Rather, they reacted by establishing the holiday of Chanukah. They lit the Menorah which publicized G-d's control over the world (in making the miracle of the oil lasting eight days) and that only He could allow them to defeat the Greeks in battle.”  Today, the Al HaNissim (For the Miracles) Chanukah liturgy reflects the festival’s focus of praise and thanks to G-d.

As parents, it is easy to take credit for our children’s triumphs and successes. After all, we must have done something right for them to have turned out so well and to have achieved so much!  We must never forget that G-d is our partner in parenting.  It is Him we must thank and credit when things go well; likewise, it is to Him we must appeal when it appears that all is not well and we need His miracle to turn things around.  

Vayeishev 5772

This week’s parsha begins: “Vayeishev Yaakov (Jacob settled.)” After years of living outside Canaan, Yaakov and his large family finally establish themselves in Canaan.  Rashi writes that vayeishev means that Yaakov seeks to live in Canaan b’shalvah, which means “in tranquility.” With his travails behind him -- the problems with his brother Esav, his daughter Dina, and his deceitful father-in-law Lavan -- all Yaakov wants is to be able to study, pray and live in peace. But this is not to be. As Rebbetzin Tziporah Heller so eloquently writes: “The response from Above was that this world is not the place where the righteous can have the quietude that we all yearn for.” 

The parsha continues: “[Yaakov] loved Yosef (Joseph) more than his [other ten] sons…[Yosef’s] brothers saw that it was he [Yosef] whom their father loved most of all his brothers, so they hated him and were not able to speak to him l’shalom (peaceably.)”

The Hebrew word for peace, shalom, usually is spelled with a vav, but in this case, the vav is missing. Why?  And why does the text read l’shalom, literally “towards peace” rather than b’shalom, in peace? 

Rebbi Levi bar Chaisa teaches that when one parts with the deceased, one should not say, "Lech l'shalom" (go towards peace), but rather, "Lech b'shalom" (go in peace.)  In contrast, when one parts with one’s friend, one should not say to him, "Lech b'shalom," but rather, "Lech l'shalom." The Vilna Gaon points out that Rebbi Levi bar Chaisa's teaching  explains the verse that describes the brothers' enmity towards Yosef. Out of their contempt for Yosef they cannot bring themselves to bless Yosef with the words l'shalom as one speaks to the living, but rather they prefer to treat him like a dead person.

Rabbi Yisroel Jungreis and Rabbi Osher Anshel Jungreis explain the meaning of the missing vav: without the vav, the gematria (numerical value) of l’shalom is 400, which is equal to the value of ayin ra, “evil eye.” They write: “The brothers looked upon Yosef with an evil eye, unable to see the good in him or to interpret his actions favorably.”

A few verses later, Yaakov sends Yosef to find his brothers: “Look into sh’lom achecha (the welfare of your brothers.)”  Here, the spelling of sh’lom includes the letter vav. Rav Simcha Bunim of P’shischa explains:  Since Torah relates that Yosef brings “evil reports of them [his brothers] to their father,” i.e., he sees them with an evil eye, Yaakov instructs Yosef to look into their sh’lom, that is, to try to see a complete or whole (in Hebrew, shalem) picture of his brothers – to judge them favorably, give them the benefit of the doubt, and seek out their positive attributes rather than their flaws.

After finally reconciling with his brother Esav, Yaakov knows a thing or two about seeking peace with one’s brother.  Although he seeks shalvah when he “settles” in Canaan, Yaakov soon is reminded that while we are alive, we must go l’shalom, towards peace/spiritual wholeness or completion, for it is only when we die and go to the Olam Haba (World to Come) that we truly can go b’shalom, in peace.

As parents, much as we desire it, we know it is impossible to have complete peace and tranquility in our relationships and in our homes. Nevertheless, we must never stop striving for it. We must take all steps necessary to move towards shalom, including judging others favorably and teaching our children to give others the benefit of the doubt.