Decades ago, in an eighth-grade classroom in Miami, Rabbi Sherwin Stauber taught the story of Ephraim and Menashe. Two boys sat in that room: One would become Rav Zev Leff of Moshav Matisyahu, the other Dr. David Luchins, my father-in-law. They listened to the same words, but each carried them forward in a distinct way.
Despite the travails of the past, Yaakov did not regret the hardships he experienced. They were all part of the mosaic called life without which he would never have reached this peaceful destination.
On the surface of the Gemara, it seems that Zevulun was complaining that he did not have enough material wealth in his inheritance to provide a livelihood, as opposed to the other tribes, which required HaKadosh Baruch Hu to placate him by listing the natural resources in his inheritance.
The very first thing that David did was to capture the city of Jerusalem and move his capital there.
As he prepares to bless the sons of Yosef, having established them as Shevatim the same as their uncles, Yaakov relates how Rachel passed away on the side of the road, which seems incongruous here.
They ignored the pleas for mercy from their younger brother and sold their own flesh and blood.
Our Commentators grapple with the puzzle of why the saintly Rachel deserved to die. Some say it was because she caused her father anguish by stealing his precious teraphim. However, many explain that the fault lay in the fact that she didn’t consult with her husband Yaakov and learn his opinion before stealing the teraphim.
If we want to understand what it means to join Yehudah and Yosef – two lineages, two visions of leadership – we must also look at the women who stand at their thresholds. Not only the unnamed daughters who entered Mitzrayim, but also the named women whose faith and devotion shaped the legacy and carried it forward.
We know that Yaakov never referred to Yosef as having died. He referred to Yosef in the same way as he referred to Shimon after he was imprisoned (42:36).
There were three catastrophic events precipitating the future exile of Israel. Two of these were, of course, the destruction of the First and Second Batei HaMikdash, but in between these was the exile of the northern kingdom, the Kingdom of Israel under the rulership of the descendants of Yosef.
When one commits murder, the killer realizes that he has sinned and he can do teshuvah. But when someone causes another person to be embarrassed, he often doesn’t realize he has done anything wrong. He may never do teshuvah and will die guilty of this sin.
The Chinuch, the renowned master of the mitzvos, wonders how is it possible that, if someone causes us to lose our job, disrupts a marriage or wrecks a shidduch, that we should not seek revenge or even nurse a grudge. He explains that, if we have the proper Torah hashkafa, any wrong that occurs to us can only transpire because of our own faults.
Ritual is often mistaken for routine. Something done out of habit, inherited without thought. But in times of fear, ritual becomes something else entirely. It becomes resistance. It becomes a declaration of presence.
If you ask me how it is that every empire, without exception, ended up in the trash bin of history while the Jewish people continue to flourish despite continued persecution, I think this picture explains everything.
What was Yosef’s sin that deserved this punishment? Is it not a rule that one should not rely on miracles? Rather, one should try one’s best to solve the situation on one’s own and only when one has exhausted one’s human capacities will G-d take over? So, what did Yosef do wrong?
The Greeks resent the mitzvot as not rational and because they don’t understand them.
In America, there is a strong tendency to feel that bigger and brighter is always better. Upon deeper reflection, many times this is not the case, however.
This power to bring about change, that can transform an individual’s status from one minute to the next, precisely defines the energy of Chanukah as well.
Return is not nostalgia. It is vigilance. It is the courage to live unsettled, to consecrate absence without being consumed by it, to insist that responsibility matters even when rest is denied.
The dreams which Yosef repeated, which he should have kept to himself, in which he lorded it over his brothers, so enraged them that they decided to preemptively kill Yosef, before he killed them. How do you kill a brother? You try to forget he is a brother. You estrange him.
The number four is noteworthy, and the Maharal explains that four represents the division of that which ought to be unified. So, in the physical world, the Divine Mercy is represented by the Name of four letters, but this is also a necessary refraction of the unified essence of the Infinite as it is experienced by us mortals here below.
Even when we are fully cognizant of this hornet’s nest brewing within us, we still need Hashem’s help to succeed.
Yaakov, from birth, was perfect - a tzaddik, who until age 77 never left the walls of the yeshiva. Yaakov was a genetic tzaddik from birth and he remained so his entire life. Eisav was born challenged and he never managed to surpass his handicaps.
We learn a very interesting principle with regard to Yiddishkeit. The reward for those who learn Torah amid difficulty and challenges is incomparably greater than one who has a relatively easy life and does not have to worry about his weekly expenses.
By taking all of these precautions, Yaakov managed to overcome the murderous designs of Eisav, to the point that Eisav dropped his lethal plans and suggested that he and Yaakov travel through life together, as one unit. Let’s travel on together (33:12).
There is a noticeable difference in the purpose and destinies of the Avot and the Imahot. The Avot are more "universal" and the Imahot are more focused specifically on "giving birth" to the Twelve Tribes, to Am Yisrael.
Just as I passed, the body of Manny Godard was returned to Israel, and only three photographs of fallen hostages remained. Many people stopped there, just as I did.
I said that I believe what this popular saying is meant to convey is that we mistakenly believe that when we make plans, we are in control. That is what Hashem is laughing about.
In a world of polarization, we are losing our grasp of nuance. We voice our opinions with absolute certainty, convinced of our own correctness while condemning, with equal certainty, the positions of political or ideological opponents. We leave little room for subtlety, little patience for complexity. We
The haftara continues the saga of the two adversaries, envisioning a final battle in which Yaakov will ultimately prevail. This vision is presented in response to the challenges of the parsha.
For us, the Children of Israel, the destruction of the Second Beit HaMikdash at the hands of Rome is still a raw memory, and we are still enduring the long exile that began on that day.
The greatest danger is not the hand of Eisav’s sword, but the hand of his friendship.
Rebbe Nachman of Breslov taught, If you believe you can damage, believe you can repair. Owning our story means believing in repair, even when estrangement or shame feels irreparable.
Maybe each of us really should be asking ourselves that very question: Who am I, and where am I a shaliach? Because in a deeper sense, every one of us is an emissary.
Having become an expert in the laws of Choshen Mishpat, Yaakov now felt ready to duel with Lavan.
Often someone hosts a guest out of a feeling of obligation to perform a mitzvah, or out of sympathy when they see someone without food or lodging. Therefore, during the meal the guest cannot be totally certain if their host is hosting them with pure joy or because it is out of a feeling of obligation.
A theme we find pervading these parshiyot and the various commentaries upon them is the grudge that the enemies of Israel hold from past generations, as a consequence of which they are constantly seeking to torment and persecute and even exterminate us – or to dispossess us – in every generation.
The Zohar teaches that sulam (ladder) and kol (voice) share the same gematria: 136. The ladder is not just a structure; it is also a sound. The ascent is not only movement, but utterance.
Moshe Rabbeinu was exceedingly humble, and consistent with his humility he was raised to one of the highest levels that a human can reach.
My answer to this double loss is one thing: do, do, do – and then do some more. Choose life. Hold on to routine. Act. Work. Wake up each morning and take on the day’s tasks.
That is our oxygen tank on this alien planet. If we discard that tank we will perish in accordance with the laws of nature.
If HaKadosh Baruch Hu was so extreme in His response to this mockery, then it cannot be such a trivial thing and we need to further explore why such drastic steps were necessary.
A lesson here appears on a national level, where we see that we will get further through strength and success than through patience for abuse. But how to apply such thinking is best left to strategists and political thinkers.
Rivkah hears the struggle inside her. It’s not a metaphor, nor a symbol, but the ache of nations colliding in her womb.
If Yitzchak would distance himself from Eisav and display his dislike, Eisav would surely not be influenced to improve his ways.
Maharal says that when Yitzchak was brought as a korban, his own status changed, elevating him to a higher level of kedusha. He was no longer just some person, even a very righteous one – he had become a designated offering and a part of the Divine Service.
The considerable amount of danger that is engendered by being in proximity to holiness is not simply a matter of historic interest. Rather, it pertains to every observant Jew in a very real way, every day of our lives.
As the military phase recedes, the struggle shifts to the diplomatic front and to the charged arena of public opinion. Here, too, our resolve is tested, as our principled defense of land and people is distorted and condemned.
Usually when someone dies, the first reaction is to cry. After drying one’s tears, one collects one’s thoughts and eulogizes the deceased. In the case of Sarah, however, we are told that the tears came after the eulogy.
Sometimes our deepest spiritual experiences come when we least expect them, when we are closest to despair. It is then that the masks we wear are stripped away. We are at our point of maximum vulnerability – and it is when we are most fully open to G-d that G-d is most fully open to us.
While it is true that Hashem is referred to as the G-d of the Land of Israel specifically at times (2 Kings 17:26, 2 Chron. 32:19), it is not immediately clear why Ramban thinks this notion is being highlighted here instead of some plainer explanation of the text.
Curiously, although Avraham Avinu completely trusted Eliezer as his administrator with regard to his estate and his wealth, when it came to finding a wife for Yitzchak, he made Eliezer take an oath to assure that he would carefully adhere to Avraham’s guidelines in choosing a wife for Yitzchak. Why?
We ask Hashem that the Satan should never succeed in causing us to regret having done a mitzvah.
Living for yourself doesn’t mean acting selfishly. It means acting with integrity, even when no one is watching.
Why Avraham deferred the task of making bread to Sarah? If he was so meticulous and diligent in performing the mitzvah of welcoming guests and prepared the calf tongues in mustard sauce himself, why did he not also prepare the bread?
Some classical commentaries suggest that Avraham specifically wanted a wife to be chosen for Yitzchak from his own extended family in Aram Naharaim. A careful review of the text, however, reveals that Avraham never clearly makes that request of his servant. He simply tells Eliezer to return to Avraham’s land and birthplace and to search for a wife there.
When the Torah relates at the end of the parsha (after already describing the death of Yishmael) that he fell before all his brethren on the approach to Ashur, Rabbi David Abuchatzera interprets this as a reference to the Purim story.
Even in mercy, we so often suffer. As much as we may always count on divine mercy, the divine calculus remains beyond our ken and we have been visited by destruction all too often.
Yishmael did not turn into the righteous son he had the potential to become. He mocked Yitzchak and this resulted in Avraham, on Sarah’s behest, banishing Hagar and Yishmael from his house.
We are told that the encounter between Avraham and the three travelers took place on Pesach (Bava Metziah 86a) and that the “ugos,” the cakes that Sarah baked for them, were matzot. Here again the power of hospitality had its magical effect.
I instituted in my shul that once coats are hanging on the coat rack, the one who wants the window closed gets his way.
We live among people who espouse diverse philosophies. We are undoubtedly different, but it is that very disparity that empowers us to bring people closer to Hashem.
In Ramban's view, one simply can’t explain away every description of malachim in the Torah as a hallucination or lucid dream.
Leadership begins here. Not with command, but with disclosure. With the choice to let someone in. With the courage to be interrupted.
Avraham had complete trust in G-d. But he did not have complete trust in himself. G-d, after all, does not change, fail, or sin. But people do.
The prophet Yeshayahu describes an unnamed individual called from the east by G-d to achieve victory over numerous nations and bring an era of peace and prosperity to Israel. But is this an event that has already happened? Or one that is yet to come?
As a result of the gifts Pharaoh lavished on them, both Avram and Lot became extremely wealthy. But they related to their wealth very differently.
Undoubtedly being told to sacrifice Yitzchak was Avraham’s toughest trial and this is the reason we mention it multiple times in our daily tefillot.
Avraham didn’t lead with certainty. He led with movement. Yeshayahu didn’t promise clarity. He promised renewal.
We learn that if one successfully persuades a disenfranchised Jew to do even one mitzvah, that individual is rewarded in this world, for his entire life, each and every time the Jew performs that mitzvah.
Avram somehow seems to be consummating the spiritual process begun with Enosh, finally achieving the spiritual possibilities of humanity – in Hebrew also known as Bnei Enosh, the descendants of Enosh.
The word chein is the root of the word chinam which means free. If we merit to find chein in the eyes of Hashem, He will freely give us things even if we don’t really deserve them.
Today, various Jewish social justice groups protest against their own best interests to gain favoritism from the outside world. It’s nice to try and repair the world, but you need a Torah foundation.
There is no doubt, it is not even a question, that Noach was G-d-fearing. Noach was not part of the depravation of the world, he did not commit adultery, he did not steal, he did not worship idols, etc.
Shem refined his father’s philosophy. For Shem, life itself was compensation enough for one’s good deeds and he did not complain if he received nothing more.
Jewish tradition offers its own quiet rituals. The Baal Shem Tov teaches that entering the ark is a spiritual act or a retreat into truth. Cheshvan echoes that: not performance, but protection.
Even if it may have been clear to both men that theirs was the only way to assure any type of future, the isolation and opposition they must have encountered (as explored in many Midrashim) would have brought down anyone lacking the legendary fortitude of these two heroes.
Relying heavily on G-d’s promises to Noah to protect humanity from these realities is, simply put, relying on miracles.
G-d’s lesson through the story of Noach and the prophecy of Isaiah is that even in the face of all the difficulty and trauma, we must still recognize the blessings and opportunities that await us.
While corruption was more widespread and perhaps fundamental, the formal case against the generation of the flood was formulated on the basis of something they – and Noach, in particular – could understand: they were hurting each other.
The Rebbe references the Hebrew name of the wood from which the teivah was constructed (gopher wood), which might be cypress but the etymology is unclear. What is clear is that gopher is related to sulfur (gaphror in Hebrew), and thus correlates to burning and simmering rage.
The tragic demise of mankind during the era of the flood was not just a punishment for that wicked generation. Even more so, it was perhaps a series of powerful lessons to be studied by G-d-fearing people throughout the millennia about behaviors that are so toxic that they can cause the absolute destruction of an entire world.
The Chofetz Chaim writes how important it is for a person to reinforce his middah (character trait) of judging others favorably, because it will facilitate his own advancement in attaining the level of a tzaddik, a righteous person.
Hashem does not perform miracles without intention. While it may be difficult to determine specific expectations, future responsibilities can often be articulated in personal terms.
Kayin understood that if Hashem would not help him, he had no hope of remaining alive.
Not only is the sukkah a sign of our emunah in Hashem, but when we hold the lulav and esrog in our hand and shake them back and forth we are declaring, Just as the species cannot exist without You, Hashem, so too we are totally dependent on You.
From our very inception, our existence was a miracle. Avram was unable to have children at his advanced age, but Avraham, the Av hamon goyim, the father of all nations, who spread the message of monotheism worldwide, was able to have a child.
If one does teshuvah because of his love for Hashem, then willful sins are actually converted into meritorious deeds.
When the Torah restates the mitzvot of Sukkot in Devarim (17) – although it doesn’t actually mention there the mitzvah of sukkah (!) – Rabbeinu Bachye discusses some of the hidden aspects of this mitzvah, particularly as they relate to the mitzvah of rejoicing on the holiday and in the context of all the major pilgrimage holidays under discussion there.
The Baal HaTanya writes that on Rosh Hashanah all the Heavenly Hosts sit in Shamayim and wait longingly to hear one Yid praise another. Why? Because in that moment when he does so, the angels take those good words and place them on his scale of merits.
We should not feel like we are martyrs suffering for our children, for, after all, Judaism opposes human sacrifice.
In a world fractured by fear, antisemitism, and isolation, Sukkos reminds us that holiness is not a status, it’s a practice.
Or, beseech, Hashem, I want to give more tzedakah this year. Can I have a bump in my livelihood so I can help my children more, or provide for my elderly parents? My wife has been wonderful. I want to be able to get her a nicer sheitel, some jewelry. Help me please, Hashem, to accomplish these goals.
Chazal say that for three days after Am Yisrael gathered all the loot from the Egyptians who drowned in the Red Sea, they neglected to study Torah, which set off a series of complaints and rebellions against Moshe and HaKadosh Baruch Hu Therefore, it was instituted that three days cannot pass without the Torah being read.
Clearly, Hashem could have created a universe in which there is no suffering and in which we can acknowledge and praise Him without having to overcome adversity. So, there is an inherent value to us, whether as individuals or as a species, in coming to this awareness through our own processes and gaining insight, and not just having it presented to us as perhaps the malachim do.
It’s sad. Our political-media discourse is stuck, narrow. A person is shaped by the landscape of their feed.