Parasha Insight

A number of books draw an intriguing – though puzzling – parallel between two periods on the Jewish calendar: the period of Ben He'mesarim (the Three Weeks from Shiba Asar Be'Tammuz through Tisha B'Ab) and the period of the holidays in the month of Tishri. The month of Tishri begins with Rosh Hashanah, and the holiday season concludes with the celebration of Shemini Aseret on the 22nd of Tishri. (In the Diaspora, we observe Shemini Aseret as a two-day celebration, referring to the second day as Simhat Torah, but fundamentally, this is just one day, on the 22nd of Tishri, and this is how it is celebrated in Israel.) According to a number of Rabbis, these two 22-day periods parallel one another, and are linked to one another. This parallelism leads us to an astonishing conclusion – that the final days of these two periods, Tisha B'Ab and Simhat Torah, are connected. This conclusion is astonishing because, quite simply, it would have been hard to come up with any two days on the Jewish calendar that are more different from one another. In fact, these days are polar opposites – and not only because one day is spent fasting, sitting on the floor and mourning, while the other is spent dancing, singing and feasting. Simhat Torah marks the day when the first Bet Ha'mikdash was inaugurated. King Shlomo conducted a two-week celebration in honor of the Temple's inauguration, which culminated on the 22nd day of Tishri. And, for this reason, the Zohar teaches that Shlomo is considered the "Ushpizin" for Shemini Aseret, which is, in a sense, the eighth day of Sukkot. It thus emerges that the day when the Bet Ha'mikdash's inauguration was completed is, remarkably, linked to Tisha B'Ab, the day when the Bet Ha'mikdash was destroyed. If Shemini Aseret is associated with Shlomo Ha'melech, then Tisha B'Ab is associated with Yirmiyahu – the prophet who warned of the destruction of the Bet Ha'mikdash. Shlomo Ha'melech enjoyed a life of wealth, prestige, peace, comfort and serenity, and he composed Shir Ha'shirim – a joyful, heartwarming book about the intense love between Hashem and the Jewish People. Yirmiyahu suffered misery throughout his life, being constantly taunted and at one point even imprisoned, and then personally witnessed the destruction of Jerusalem and was driven into exile. The book he wrote – Echa, which we read while sitting on the floor on Tisha B'Ab – laments the rupture of the bond between G-d and His people, and the unspeakable calamities that befell our nation at the time of Jerusalem's destruction – the polar opposite of Shir Ha'shirim. Interestingly enough, the Arizal – based on a number of earlier sources – teaches that King Shlomo's soul returned in Yirmiyahu, further underscoring the connection between Simhat Torah – the day associated with King Shlomo – and Tisha B'Ab – the day associated with Yirmiyahu. These two figures shared the same soul, and thus the days that embody their lives' respective missions are closely linked. These two days are linked because Simhat Torah is the day when we celebrate the precious gift of the Torah – and it is through Torah that we become worthy of redemption. The Or Ha'haim (Rav Haim Ben-Attar, 1696-1743) writes that Mashiah does not wish to redeem a nation of ignoramuses. It is only when we recommit ourselves to Torah learning and put in the time and effort to learn that we earn our long-awaited final redemption. Tisha B'Ab is associated with Simhat Torah because it is through the joy of Torah learning, embodied by the festive celebration of Simhat Torah, that we end the exile which we mourn on Tisha B'Ab. In our community – and in many others, as well – we are witnessing a truly extraordinary phenomenon, one which clearly shows that we are well on our way to making the transition from Tisha B'Ab to Simhat Torah, from mourning the destruction of the Bet Ha'mikdash to celebrating the restoration of the Bet Ha'mikdash. My father recalled to me how in his time, people spent Tisha B'Ab afternoon at the beach. Now, as everyone knows, Tisha B'Ab is likely the greatest day of Torah learning in the entire year. Synagogues are packed with men and women of all ages hearing Torah classes for many hours throughout the day, and some even the entire day. Ironically, in our time, Tisha B'Ab has turned into a "Simhat Torah." Of course, it is still a day of mourning and grieving. But nevertheless, we cannot overlook the drastic change that has occurred, with the entire community – and many other communities – joining together for hours upon hours to learn Torah on this day. This phenomenon is representative of the broader transition that has been taking place in recent years. People are devoted to Torah learning like never before. With all the unique spiritual challenges of our generation which I and many other Rabbis speak about regularly, the amount of Torah being learned on a daily basis in our time is breathtaking. This is a clear sign that we are, gradually, transitioning from Tisha B'Ab to Simhat Torah, from a state of Hurban (destruction) to a state of redemption. May Hashem help us continue this transition, to continue devoting ourselves to Torah learning and inspiring others to do the same, so we may be worthy of Mashiah's arrival and the rebuilding of the Bet Ha'mikdash, when we will experience an everlasting Simhat Torah, amen.

Rabbi Akiba's Tears Parashat Matot begins with a number of laws regarding vows, including the authority given to a husband to annul certain vows taken by his wife. The Torah states that in such a case, when a wife takes a vow and the husband declares its annulment, "V'Hashem Yislah Lah" – G-d will forgive the woman (30:13). The Sages understood this verse as referring to a situation where the wife did not know that her husband annulled the vow, and nevertheless proceeded to violate it. For example, the wife declared herself a Nezira, committing to abstain from wine, and she later decided to drink wine despite her vow. As it turned out, she committed no transgression by drinking wine, because her husband annulled her vow of Nezirut. Nevertheless, she requires G-d's forgiveness since she intended to violate the vow. The Gemara (Kiddushin 81b) tells that Rabbi Akiba would weep each time he read this verse. He was overcome by emotion upon seeing that even a person who did not commit a sin requires atonement if he intended to commit a sin. If even such an act – which was actually permissible – requires atonement, then how much more so is a person held accountable when he commits an act that is truly forbidden. A deep explanation for Rabbi Akiva's tears emerges from the teachings of Rav Shimshon of Ostropoli (1600-1648). Ashkenazic communities have the custom of including in the Kinnot on Tisha B'Ab a lament for the Asara Harugeh Malchut – the ten great sages who were murdered by the Romans. The Roman emperor learned the law in the Torah that kidnapping a person and then selling him as a slave is a capital offense, punishable by death. He thus decreed that ten great sages must be murdered to atone for the sin of Mechirat Yosef – when Yosef's brothers committed this exact crime, selling their brother as a slave. Since this crime was committed by Yosef's ten brothers, ten sages were brutally murdered to atone for this misdeed. In truth, only nine of Yosef's brothers participated in his sale as a slave. Binyamin, the youngest, was home and thus not present at the time of the sale, and Reuben tried to rescue Yosef. Thus, this crime was committed by only nine brothers. Rav Shimshon of Ostropoli cites the Arizal as teaching that the Almighty Himself, as it were, was the tenth participant. He decreed that this should happen, and He thus "completed the Minyan," so-to-speak, joining Yosef's brothers in selling him as a slave to Egypt. Now the Kabbalists have identified the specific correspondence between the Asara Harugeh Malchut and the brothers who sold Yosef – meaning, which of the ten great sages corresponds to which of Yosef's brothers. For example, one of these sages was Rabbi Huspit Ha'meturgeman – a great Rabbi who was blessed with a loud, clear voice, and thus worked as the "broadcaster" who would help the Rabbis deliver their lectures. He corresponds to Naftali, who is described as "Ha'noten Imreh Shafer" (49:21) – the speaker of beautiful words. Rav Shimshon of Ostropoli taught that Rabbi Akiba, who was among the ten sages murdered by the Romans, corresponded to G-d, the tenth "participant" in Mechirat Yosef. This is because Rabbi Akiba taught that the Torah's command to fear Hashem extends also to Torah scholars – meaning, just as one is obligated to fear Hashem, so must one show reverence to the sages. As Rabbi Akiba equated, in a sense, Torah scholars with the Almighty, he was chosen to "represent" G-d as one of the Asara Harugeh Malchut. We can now return to Rabbi Akiba's weeping upon reading the verse in Parashat Matot, "V'Hashem Yislah Lah." Rabbi Akiba knew that he represented G-d as the tenth participant in Mechirat Yosef. However, he felt comforted by Yosef's own words many years later, when he explained to his brothers that he felt no resentment toward them for what they did: "Ve'atam Hashabtem Alai Ra'a, Elokim Hashabah Le'Toba" – "You plotted evil against me, but G-d plotted for the good" (50:20). Although the brothers intended to inflict harm, their actions actually brought great blessing and good fortune, as Yosef ended up saving Egypt and the entire ancient world by predicting the seven years of famine and ordering the storage of grain during the preceding years of surplus. Rabbi Akiba thus figured that he – as a representative of Yosef's brothers – would not be held accountable for the sin of Mechirat Yosef, because it in truth turned out to be a blessing, and not a sin. However, when Rabbi Akiva read the verse "V'Hashem Yislah Lah," he wept. He then realized that even if a person's actions ended up being permissible, nevertheless, he requires atonement if he had intended to act wrongly. Rabbi Akiba thus understood that the time would come when an accounting would be made for the sin of Mechirat Yosef. As we approach the observance of Tisha B'Ab, let us all work together to rectify the sin of Mechirat Yosef by striving to be kinder, more compassionate and more forgiving. If Yosef's brothers brought calamity upon future generations through their efforts to harm Yosef, let us correct this mistake by redoubling our efforts to help and bring joy to all our brothers and sisters, even those with whom we have disagreements, and we will then be worthy of our final redemption, Amen.

We read in Parashat Pinhas of the census taken of Beneh Yisrael at the end of their forty-year sojourn in the wilderness. The Torah lists the families of the various tribes, and in listing the families of Reuben, the Torah explains that two families – those of the brothers Datan and Abiram – were not counted, because they perished after joining Korah's revolt against Moshe Rabbenu. In this context, the Torah mentions that "U'bneh Korah Lo Metu" – Korah's sons did not die together with their father and the other rebels. Rashi, citing the Gemara (Megilla 14a), explains that Korah's sons initially participated in the uprising, but they then had thoughts of Teshuba (repentance), on account of which "Nitbaser Lahem Makom Gabo'ah Be'gehinom Ve'yashebu Sham" – " An elevated place in Gehinam was set apart for them, and they remained there." Rashi's concluding remarks – "and they remained there" – suggest that Korah's sons stayed in that "elevated place in Gehinam" for all time, and this is, indeed, the view taken by several later commentators. This is also the implication of the Midrash cited by Tosafot in Masechet Kiddushin (31b). The conventional understanding, however, is that Korah's sons remained in the underworld for a period of time and were ultimately rescued, whereupon they rejoined Beneh Yisrael. (This is perhaps evidenced by the fact that Korah's sons had descendants who sang in the Bet Ha'mikdash.) Regardless, the Lubavitcher Rebbe (Rav Menachem Mendel Schneersohn, 1902-1994) draws our attention to an important – but often overlooked – word in this passage in Rashi's commentary. Rashi did not say simply that Korah's sons participated in their father's uprising against Moshe. Rather, he writes that Korah's sons were part of this undertaking "Tehila" – right at the outset. They were among the initiators. They didn't just "go along" with the idea – they were the ones who conceived it! The Rebbe further notes Rashi's comment that during the revolt, "Hirharu Teshuba Be'libam" – Korah's sons had thoughts of repentance in their hearts. It seems clear from Rashi's formulation that Korah's sons did not repent entirely – they merely entertained thoughts of Teshuba. And yet, despite the fact that they were the instigators of this evil uprising, even their thoughts of Teshuba sufficed to save them from death. The Rebbe added that this shows us the great power of even incomplete repentance, and of even "Hirhureh Teshuba" – genuine thoughts and feelings of repentance. Even when a Jew does not change his behavior fully the way he should, but he merely thinks and reflects on how he needs to improve – these thoughts are precious and beloved by G-d. The Rebbe explained on this basis why, at one of the holiest moments of the year, as we prepare to sound the Shofar on Rosh Hashanah, we read the 47 th chapter of Tehillim, which was composed by Korah's sons – "La'menase'ah Li'bneh Korah Mizmor." Unlike Yom Kippur, Rosh Hashanah is not a time for confessing and begging G-d for forgiveness. However, during the sounding of the Shofar, we are to think "Hirhureh Teshuba," thoughts of repentance. This is a time to think seriously and somberly about our mistakes and shortcomings during the previous year, and how we wish to improve during the coming year. We therefore recite this chapter composed by Korah's sons – who devised a wicked plot to challenge Moshe Rabbenu, and yet were spared punishment because of their "Hihureh Teshuba." We are reminded of the great power of Teshuba thoughts, of the value of our genuine feelings of regret and desire to improve. Back in Parashat Korah, we read that when the ground opened to devour the leaders of the revolt and their families, the rest of the nation "Nasu Le'kolam" (16:34) – literally, "ran to their voices." This seems to mean that the people ran toward the opening in the ground where the rebels were screaming in horror, which would be very difficult to understand. Rashi avoids this problem by interpreting these words to mean that the people ran "on account of their voices," because of the shrieks that they heard. In light of what we have seen, however, there might be another understanding. After Korah's sons were saved, Beneh Yisrael ran to hear their voices, to hear them sing praise to Hashem, in order to receive inspiration from them. Korah's sons became a powerful source of motivation for all Beneh Yisrael – and for us – by showing the value of even incomplete Teshuba, how every step forward is significant and cherished by the Almighty. Indeed, Rav Moshe Wolfson (1925-2024) noted that the letters that spell the word "Le'kolam" (Lamed, Kof, Lamed, Mem) are the first letters of the words "La'menase'ah Li'bneh Korah Mizmor." Beneh Yisrael rushed to hear the beautiful praises sung by Korah's sons to be inspired and driven to work toward improvement, one small step at a time. The Rebbe cited in this context the Rambam's famous comment that "En Beneh Yisrael Nig'alin Ela Bi'Tshuba" – the redemption depends upon the Jewish People's repentance (Hilchot Teshuba 7:5). Many people wondered how this will happen. When we look at our nation today, how the majority of Jews are so distant from observance, and how even generally observant Jews face so many religious challenges which they frequently fail to withstand, how can we ever be deserving of redemption? Korah's sons provide us with the answer. They show us that even incomplete Teshuba is valuable, as long as it is sincere. Every genuine thought, feeling and action in the direction of Teshuba, every time a Jew reflects on his inadequacies and regrets his deficiencies, he has achieved something precious. Every small step toward repentance will, hopefully, lead to another, such that we can, indeed, become worthy of our final redemption, speedily and in our time, Amen.

We are all familiar with the story of Moshe hitting the rock, an act for which he was punished. Less familiar, however, are the circumstances that led to Moshe's decision to strike the rock, after he was commanded to produce water by speaking to it. The background to the story is the death of Moshe's sister, the righteous prophetess Miriam, in whose merit a miraculous well provided water for Beneh Yisrael throughout the previous forty years of travel in the wilderness. This well accompanied the people, and water supernaturally flowed from it, ensuring an adequate supply of fresh water. When Miriam passed away in the final year of Beneh Yisrael's sojourn in the desert, the well dried, leaving Beneh Yisrael without water. In response to their complaints, G-d instructed Moshe to assemble the people around the rock – the rock of Miriam, which had stopped providing water – and tell it to once again produce water. Rashi (20:10) explains that after Moshe assembled the people, they argued with him, asking why he needed to produce water specifically from this rock. Surely, Hashem was capable of providing water from a different rock. They pointed to another rock, whereupon Moshe and Aharon exclaimed, "Can we extract water from this rock?!" Moshe then struck it several times, and, sure enough, water began to flow. Why did the people challenge Moshe to produce water from a different rock? Why were they not content with having Miriam's well resume its production of water? The answer is that the people thought that extracting water from a different rock would create a greater Kiddush Hashem (glorification of G-d's Name). After forty years, water flowing from Miriam's rock was no longer considered special or miraculous. Certainly, they figured, G-d's glory would be manifested much more dramatically if water was produced from a different rock. The people's motivations, then, were sincere, but they were still wrong – for the simple reason that G-d had commanded Moshe to produce water from this particular stone. Why He chose specifically this rock was not for them – or for us – to understand. They were to faithfully and humbly abide by His commands even when they did not grasp their logic, and even when different options seemed more rational. This perhaps explains the connection between this story and the preceding section in the Torah – the law of the Para Aduma ("red heifer"). This command is commonly regarded as the quintessential "Hok" – Misva whose rationale eludes our comprehension. There is no logical explanation for why slaughtering a perfectly red cow, and then burning its ashes, mixing it with water, and sprinkling the mixture on people who had become impure, should have any meaning or significance. But the Torah commands that we prepare this mixture, and that people who had come in contact with a corpse have this water sprinkled on them before they enter the Bet Ha'mikdash or eat the meat of sacrifices. This Misva, more than any other, exemplifies the notion of faithful subordination to the divine will, of obedience to Hashem's commands against our logical understanding. For good reason, then, the Torah juxtaposed the Misva of Para Aduma and the story of Moshe and the rock – because both underscore the message of surrendering our logic and reason to the will of Hashem. The lesson of this Parasha is that we must not try to be "too smart." The Torah promises that observing Shabbat brings material prosperity – even though logic dictates that working an extra day every week increases profits. We must not try to "outsmart" the Torah by thinking that keeping the business open on Shabbat will lead to greater earnings. Some mothers encourage their marriage-age daughters to stop following the requirements of modest dress to increase their chances of finding a husband. They figure that since marriage is a Misva, the right thing to do is to dress this way so they can fulfill this Misva. But this is incorrect. When G-d tells us to do something or not to do something, we need to obey even if we can come up with logical reasons not to. The intellect is a precious gift that Hashem granted us for the purpose of learning, building and achieving. At the same time, however, He demands that we suspend our logic when necessary to show our humble subservience to Him and to His will.

Two of the important figures in Korah's brazen uprising against Moshe were two brothers named Datan and Abiram. Interestingly, we are not told what it is that they were fighting for. Korah himself, as Rashi brings, resented the fact that his cousin was chosen over him for a prestigious leadership role (head of one of the three families of Leviyim). The 250 men who joined Korah vied for the privilege of serving as Kohanim in the Mishkan. Datan and Abiram, however, simply ridiculed Moshe. In the message they delivered to him, they accused Moshe of taking them out of Egypt – which they described as "a long flowing with milk and honey" – to die in the wilderness. But they did not say what it is that they want from him. These men had a long history with Moshe. The Sages teach us that they were the men who disobeyed Moshe's instructions regarding the manna – leaving manna over to the next morning, and going out to collect on Shabbat – and they were the ones who advocated for returning to Egypt after hearing the spies' frightening report about the nations in Eretz Yisrael. In truth, their history with Moshe goes back even earlier – to the period of bondage in Egypt. The Midrash teaches that when Moshe saw an Egyptian taskmaster beating a member of Beneh Yisrael – that was Datan. And the next day, when Moshe saw two members of Beneh Yisrael fighting – those were Datan and Abiram. Moshe saved Datan's life when he was being beaten by the Egyptian, and he then saved Abiram when he was being beaten by Datan. Yet, instead of expressing gratitude to Moshe, they betrayed him, reporting him to Pharaoh. One of the commentaries explains why they harbored such ill-will toward Moshe. The Midrash relates that the Egyptian who was beating Datan had a relationship with Datan's wife. Moshe knew of this through Ru'ah Ha'kodesh (prophetic insight). Datan and Abiram did not want this information spread, and so they first tried having Moshe killed, by reporting him to Pharaoh. When Moshe returned to Egypt many years later as the nation's leader, Datan and Abiram repeatedly disobeyed Moshe and rejected his authority, so that if he ever mentioned anything about their secret, it would not be taken seriously. This is why they seized every opportunity to oppose and ridicule Moshe – and this is why they joined Korah's uprising. Remarkably, however, even after Datan and Abiram joined Korah in his uprising against Moshe's authority, Moshe still did not give up. The Torah tells (16:12) that Moshe sent them a message, inviting them for a meeting. According to some commentators, Moshe delivered this message because he still believed that they could repent. Even after all Datan and Abiram had done wrong, despite their pattern of defiance and contempt for him – Moshe still held out hope, he still believed in their capacity for goodness. The reason, as some have explained, is that Moshe never forgot the good that Datan and Abiram once did. Back in Egypt, Datan and Abiram served as Shoterim – foremen appointed by the Egyptian taskmasters to oversee the work done by the Israelite slaves. If the slaves did not complete their quota of work, then the Shoterim would be beaten. Datan and Abiram, as sinful as they were, took the beatings rather than deal harshly with their fellow Jews. They allowed themselves to suffer the consequences of the slaves' failure to complete their quota of work. Moshe did not allow Datan and Abiram's repeated misdeeds and even personal attacks to overshadow the good that they did. He recognized their capacity for goodness – even after they challenged and defied him several times. It was only here in Parashat Korah, when they rejected his "olive branch," when they refused to even speak with him, that he despaired. This is a crucial message for parents and educators. Too often, parents and teachers see the child's misbehavior and failures, but not the child's achievements and successes. This is a mistake. While certainly standards must be enforced, it is imperative that children know that all the good they do is recognized, appreciated and respected. In today's day and age, especially, children face unprecedented spiritual challenges. The lures and distractions of today's world make it so difficult for youngsters to do the right thing, to remain religiously committed, and to succeed academically. Every success, every mitzvah , everything that youngsters do right must be enthusiastically celebrated. Whatever mistakes children make do not erase the good that they do. The more encouragement they receive, the more motivated they will be to continue working and struggling to achieve despite the challenges that they face.