Parasha Insight

The Torah in Parashat Nisavim foresees the time when Beneh Yisrael would be banished into exile on account of their breach of their covenant with G-d, describing, "Va'yashlichem Be'eretz Aheret" – Hashem's casting the nation into a different land (29:27). Those who look carefully at the Torah scroll will notice that the letter Lamed in the word "Va'yashlichem" is written larger than the other letters of the Torah. Enlarged letters in the Torah function like bolded text, or capitalized letters, in modern-day writing, denoting emphasis. What might the Torah have sought to emphasize with the enlarged Lamed in this word? Perhaps we can answer this question by understanding the unique significance of this letter. Several great Rabbis taught that as the word "Lamed" means "learn," this letter is associated with Torah study. The Ben Ish Hai (Rav Yosef Haim of Baghdad, 1833-1909) explains on this basis the unique shape of the letter Lamed, which is drawn with a vertical line on top, followed by a horizontal line, and then another vertical line dropping down. This shape, the Ben Ish Hai writes, represents the process of Torah tradition. The top vertical line represents the transmission of Torah wisdom as it "descends" from the scholar to his disciple. The horizontal line represents the learning that takes place among peers, how the students – who are generally on the same level, like points on a horizontal line – learn and gain from another. The line descending from that horizonal line symbolizes the students' then transmitting their knowledge and wisdom down to their offspring and students. If, indeed, the letter Lamed represents Torah learning, then we can perhaps explain the significance of the enlarged letter Lamed in the word "Va'yachlichem." As mentioned, this word speaks of the Jews leaving into exile, where they would live amidst, and under the authority of, foreign nations. The Torah is alluding to us that when this happens, when we are driven to exile, the Lamed – Torah learning – must be our central point of focus. Living among foreign cultures, we face two potential challenges: persecution, and assimilation. In some exiles, the primary hardship involved the foreign governments' attempts to ban Jewish learning and practice, to pull us away from our faith and our traditions by force. But in other eras, such as in our current exile here in the United States, the challenge is assimilation. We are, thank G-d, free to practice our religion without any restrictions, but with all the freedoms we enjoy come the lures and pressures of our society. Its beliefs are not our beliefs, its values are not our values, and its lifestyle is not our lifestyle. As a small minority, we face the constant pressure to accept the beliefs, values and lifestyle of our surroundings. This is why the Lamed is enlarged. The most effective and most important weapon we have in our arsenal with which to defend ourselves against the unrelenting cultural pressure to which we are subject in exile is Torah learning. When we learn Torah, we submerge ourselves in our faith, in our values, in our traditions, in our laws and customs. Torah learning of course is and always was a vitally important part of Jewish life, for several reasons, but in exile – and especially in our current reality – it serves the function of anchoring us to our spiritual core, and fortifying us against the hostile spiritual influences of general society. Let us, then, redouble our commitment to Torah learning, so we will survive this exile both physically and spiritually, and be worthy of our final redemption, speedily and in our time, Amen.

The Torah promises in Parashat Ki-Tabo (28:10), "All the nations of the earth will see that the Name of G-d is called upon you, and they will be afraid of you." Targum Yonatan Ben Uziel explains that this refers to the Tefillin Shel Rosh, which we proudly wear upon our heads. The Torah promises that when the enemies of the Jewish People see the Tefillin on our heads, they will be gripped by fear and will no longer try to inflict harm on us. How does this work? How will the sight of the Tefillin instill fear within our enemies? The Kol Aryeh answers this question by developing the symbolic meaning of the Tefillin Shel Rosh. The Tefillin Shel Rosh features a knot in the back, from which two straps extend along the front of a person's body – one to the right and one to the left. The right side is always associated with Hesed – G-d's kindness, whereas the left side represents Din – judgment. For this reason, it is customary for the right Tefillin strap to extend longer than the left strap, reflecting our desire for an abundance of Hesed. One who sees the front of a person sees two separate, seemingly disconnected, straps. Outwardly, Hesed and Din are two distinct phenomena. Some events and experiences appear as Hesed, manifestations of G-d's kindness, whereas others seem like pure Din – harsh judgment. However, when the Tefillin Shel Rosh is viewed from the back, it becomes clear that both straps come from the same source, from the knot on the back of the head. The knot of the Tefillin symbolizes the belief that in truth, Hesed and Din are one and the same, that everything Hashem does is for the best, and for our ultimate benefit, even if sometimes it causes us pain. The two "straps" are really one, because everything Hashem does is for the best. When Moshe was atop Mount Sinai, he asked, "Har'eni Na Et Kebodecha" – "Show me, please, Your glory" (Shemot 33:18). The Sages explained that Moshe wanted to understand the secret of G-d's governance, why the righteous occasionally suffer, whereas the evildoers occasionally enjoy good fortune. G-d responded, "Ve'ra'ita Et Ahorai" – that Moshe would be able to see Him "from the back" (33:23), which the Gemara (Berachot 7) explains to mean that Hashem showed Moshe the knot of His Tefillin. The answer to Moshe's question is the knot of the Tefillin Shel Rosh – the belief that there is no distinction between what we perceive as bad and what we perceive as good. Everything Hashem does is a manifestation of the greatest Hesed, even when we cannot understand how. This is why Halacha requires reciting Shema while wearing Tefillin. The opening verse of Shema declares, "Hashem Elokenu, Hashem Ehad." The Name of "Havaya" is associated with the attribute of Hesed, whereas the Name "Elokim" refers to divine judgment. The pronouncement "Hashem Elokenu, Hashem Ehad" means that both "Hashem" and "Elokenu" are "Hashe Ehad" – a single manifestation of G-d, an expression of kindness. Even "Elokim" is "Havaya"; even what appears to us as bad is the ultimate good. We must make this pronouncement while wearing our Tefillin – which expresses this fundamental tenet of Emuna (faith). With this background, we can return to the verse here in Parashat Ki-Tabo. In the future, the enemy nations will be shown how all the pain and sorrow they caused the Jewish Nation was actually to our benefit, a manifestation of Hashem's kindness. They will see that all their efforts to persecute us and defeat us actually helped us, and in fact led to the final redemption. They will see the "Tefillin Shel Rosh" – that both "straps" are really one, that even the misfortune that Am Yisrael experiences is in fact beneficial for us. And they will thus be overcome by fear and horror, recognizing that all their efforts had the precise opposite effect than they intended, that everything they did to hurt us was in fact helping us. The message for us is that we must reinforce our steadfast faith in Hashem's unlimited kindness, and repeatedly remind ourselves that "Hashem Elokenu, Hashem Ehad" – even the struggles and hardships of life are to our ultimate benefit. Although we cannot possibly understand in the present moment how this could be good, we must trust that in the future everything will become clear, and we will see with our eyes the "knot of the Tefillin," how everything Hashem did was for the best.

The Torah in Parashat Ki-Teseh (24:19) introduces the Misva known as "Shicheha," which applies when a farmer forgets some of his produce behind during the harvest. This forgotten produce, the Torah commands, must be left for the poor. If one later realizes that he left some grain behind, he is not permitted to go back to retrieve it. The Torah writes: "It shall be for the foreigner, the orphan and the widow, so that Hashem your G-d shall bless you in all your hands' actions." By leaving this forgotten produce to the poor, one earns special blessing. Rashi, based on the Sifreh, notes that the Torah promises the farmer reward for the benefit he brought to the poor despite knowing nothing about it. Meaning, even if the farmer never realizes that he forgot sheaves of grain, he is nevertheless rewarded for his unintentional charity, for the assistance that the poor received from his forgotten grain. Rashi thus infers from this verse that if a person mistakenly dropped a coin, and a pauper finds it and uses it for his needs, the one who dropped the coin receives reward. Even though he had no intention to give charity, and even if he never notices the missing coin, he is rewarded for the benefit he unknowingly brought to the needy individual. The Saba of Kelm (Rav Simcha Zissel Ziv, 1824–1898) makes a powerful comment about the Misva of "Shicheha." Just as a person receives reward for the material charity that he gives unintentionally, the Saba writes, so does one receive reward for his unintentional spiritual charity. Sometimes money falls from a person's pocket; other times – and likely far more often – "money" falls from a person's soul. We are entirely unaware of the influence we have on other people. When we conduct ourselves properly, the people around us take notice, and are impacted. When a person's neighbors see him leave on time for Shaharit each morning, they are influenced by this example. When a person maintains his calm and composure in the workplace when problems arise, without raising his voice or panicking, his coworkers take notice, and are influenced. When a businessman conducts his affairs with scrupulous honesty, even at the expense of profitable opportunities, his associates take notice, and are influenced. We never know who is looking at us at any point during the day, who is noticing our behavior, and who is being influenced by the way we act and the way we speak. The rewards for our unintentional spiritual charity, the Saba of Kelm adds, are, undoubtedly, far greater than the rewards for unintentional material charity. If a person drops some money which is then discovered by a pauper, the pauper uses that money to sustain himself for a brief period of time. But our spiritual charity goes much further. The influence that people receive from our example lasts a lifetime, affecting their character, their behavior, and their choices forever. And, this influence triggers a chain reaction, as the people we positively influence have a positive influence on others, who then positively influence others, and so on. We cannot even imagine how far the effects of our behavior go – and thus we cannot even imagine the rewards we receive for these effects. People today are exposed to negative influences like never before. And so any positive influence that we can have on people today is so much more precious than at any other time. Therefore, we must live with this awareness of how every action and every word matters. We have no idea how many "coins" fall from our soul at any given moment, how we are influencing people through everything we say and do. Let us, then, try to always behave the right way – because we never know who's watching, and how they are being influenced by us.

Parashat Shofetim begins with the command, "Shofetim Ve'shoterim Titen Lecha Be'chol She'arecha" – "You shall place for yourselves judges and enforcers in all your gates." This establishes the Biblical obligation to appoint in every city ("in all your gates") courts to determine the laws, and officials to enforce them. The verse later adds, "LI'shbatecha" – "for your tribes," which the Sages understood as a requirement to appoint a higher court for each tribe (see Rashi and Ramban). Surprisingly, this command is presented in the singular form – "Lecha," "She'arecha." Although the Torah here addresses itself to the entire nation, commanding the appointment of judges in every city, and over every tribe, this imperative is formulated such that it is directed toward every individual. Rav Haim Vital (1543-1620) explained that the Torah is alluding here to the obligation upon each and every individual to appoint "judges" and "enforcers" for all "She'arecha" – all the "gates" to his being. This means exercising care and discretion when deciding what we allow ourselves to see, to hear and to eat. It meant "judging" and scrutinizing ourselves, and "enforcing" our own compliance with the Torah's laws and the Torah's principles. Rav Haim Vital here is making a crucial point that cannot be overemphasized – that we must judge and govern ourselves before we try to judge and govern others. Many people happily volunteer for the position of "judge" over their city, and over their community, to criticize this person or that person, this institution or that institution, this policy or that policy. They also happily volunteer for the person of "enforcer," to tell people what they're doing wrong. Rav Haim Vital is teaching us to criticize ourselves before we criticize others, to put our own lives in order before we try to fix all the world's problems, or even all the community's problems. In the next verse, the Torah turns to the appointed judge and commands, "Lo Tateh Mishpat" – "Do not distort the judgment." In reference to judges sitting on the court, this means that a judge may not rule with favoritism, applying distorted logic in order to reach a decision in favor of the litigant of his preference. But this is true also of our "judgment" of ourselves. We are naturally inclined to find fault in others but not in ourselves. When it comes to our own behavior, we have a tendency to "distort" our reasoning, to find excuses for ourselves, to come up with justifications for things we should not have done. About this judgment, too, the Torah commands, "Lo Tateh Mishpat" – that we must judge ourselves objectively and honestly, uncomfortable as this can sometimes be. Returning to this Parasha's opening verse, the first letters of the word "Lecha Li'shbatecha Ve'shafetu Et" (Lamed, Lamed, Vav, Alef) are the letters of the word "Elul." And, sure enough, Parashat Shofetim is always read at the beginning of the month of Elul. The message being conveyed is that this month is about judging and scrutinizing ourselves, with brutal honesty. Elul is the time to stop trying to change the world, to point out all the problems other people are making, and to redirect our attention to ourselves, to the things that we need to improve.

The Journey Parashat Re'eh concludes with the Misva known as Aliya Le'regel – appearing before G-d in the Bet Ha'mikdash three times each year, on the holidays of Pesach, Shabuot and Sukkot. The Gemara in Masechet Hagiga (3a) makes a comment that sheds light on the nature of this Misva, and on the vital lesson that it teaches us. King Shelomo exclaims in Shir Hashirim (7:2), "Ma Yafu Fe'amayich Ba'ne'alim, Bat Nadib" – literally, "How beautiful are your steps in shoes, the daughter of the generous one." The Gemara interprets this verse as a reference to the journey that Beneh Yisrael would take to the Jerusalem before the holidays for the Misva of Aliya Le'regel. And the expression "Bat Nadib" ("daughter of the generous one") means that Beneh Yisrael are the descendants of Abraham Abinu, who was called "Nadib," as he was exceptionally generous and giving. The Gemara here seems to draw a comparison between two journeys: Beneh Yisrael's journey to the Bet Ha'mikdash for the holidays, and Abraham Abinu's journey. On one level, this refers to Abraham Abinu's journey from his homeland to Eretz Yisrael, about which the Midrash teaches that Abraham received reward for each and every step. Abraham's journey was not merely a means to an end, a practical necessity to fulfill G-d's command to settle in Eretz Yisrael. Rather, the journey itself was inherently meaningful and valuable, and he thus earned reward for each step. Likewise, Beneh Yisrael's journey to the Bet Ha'mikdash was itself a Misva. Indeed, we call this Misva "Aliya Le'regel" – going to the Bet Ha'mikdash for the holiday, emphasizing the process of "Aliya," of journeying. The Misva was to undertake the journey, to make the effort, to go through the trouble of going to appear before Hashem. On a deeper level, when the Gemara mentions Abraham Abinu in the context of the people's journey to Jerusalem, it refers to his journey through life. The Rambam writes that Abraham was born into a family of idolaters, and he himself worshipped idols. At the age of 3, Abraham began questioning and inquiring, thinking about the world, how it came into being, and who governs it. This theological journey which began at the age of 3 continued for 37 years, as it was only at the age of 40 that Abraham arrived at the belief in a single Creator. The journey of Aliya Le'regel parallels Abraham Abinu's extraordinary spiritual journey, his lengthy, step-by-step process of growth – because Aliya Le'regel, too, is a process of spiritual preparation. A person cannot simply appear before Hashem in the Bet Ha'mikdash without first preparing himself. The "footsteps," the trek to Jerusalem, was an obligatory process of growth, of putting oneself in the proper mindset to appear before Hashem in the Bet Ha'mikdash. The Kabbalists teach that the domain of place parallels the domain of time. The Bet Ha'mikdash, the most sacred place on earth, parallels the Yamim Noraim – the period of the High Holidays, the most sacred days of the year. Yom Kippur, the apex of this period, corresponds to the Kodesh Ha'kodashim, the inner sanctum of the Bet Ha'mikdash, whereas Rosh Hashanah, the onset of this period, is represented by the Azara, the courtyard of the Bet Ha'mikdash where the people would assemble on the three pilgrimage festivals. It emerges, then, that the period of Elul – the month of preparation for Rosh Hashanah – parallels "Aliya Le'regel," the journey to the Bet Ha'mikdash. The month that we begin this coming week is a time of journeying, of growth, of "Aliya" – elevation, lifting ourselves higher, so we come prepared to the "Bet Ha'mikdash," to Rosh Hashanah, when we stand before the Almighty for judgment. It is no coincidence that Parashat Re'eh is always read on the Shabbat preceding Rosh Hodesh Elul. Throughout the Book of Debarim, Moshe Rabbenu is preparing the people for life in the Land of Israel. But in this Parasha, for the first time, he speaks of "the place which G-d shall choose" – referring to the Bet Ha'mikdash. In this Parasha, Moshe prepares the people for the Bet Ha'mikdash, explaining what his special site is and the special laws pertaining to it. This is precisely what the month of Elul is all about – preparing ourselves for the "Bet Ha'mikdash" of time, for Rosh Hashanah, by growing and lifting ourselves, one beautiful "footstep" at a time, bringing us ever closer to Hashem and to spiritual greatness.