But a miracle occurred. The men from Bnei Brak in effect became the new soldiers on the border. Lacking training, they nevertheless became powerful guardsmen standing on the front line.
The men purchased the field and quickly got to work to preserve the wheat for the shmurah matzahs – and when the terrorists eventually came forth from the tunnel, they found, to their chagrin, not lush and majestically high wheat but an open, shorn field where they were immediately detected by Israeli surveillance.
We are living in treacherous times. The lives of individuals and nations are on the line. So what are we to learn from the story of Shemittah and the shmurah matzah?
1) More than Jews guard shmurah matzah, shmurah matzah guards us. This holds true for all our mitzvahs. I invite you to consider all our commandments – Shabbos, kashrus, taharas hamishpachah, etc. –and you will see for yourself the veracity of the axiom that more than we guard the mitzvahs, the mitzvahs guard us.
2) On a trip to Israel I was invited to one of the surveillance stations. I was struck by the fact that most of the monitors were females – because, we were told, their attention span is greater.
Indeed, if the Jewish people are to survive in our immoral and corrupt society, women will have to assume the surveillance role Hashem charged them with at Mt. Sinai.
“Koh tomar l’beis Yaakov – thus shall you speak to the house of Jacob” – the house of Jacob meaning the women. It is they who have to be meticulous in standing guard and protecting their families and their people from the ravages of the moral illnesses of every generation.
Consider how different our world would be if our women, the mothers of our children, were responsible for surveillance.
In our modern high-tech world that prides itself on the latest and the best, who would ever have believed that shmurah matzahs being prepared for the Shemittah year would be the weapon that saved our people?
As I mentioned in last week’s column, miracles are with us every day. But even as we take for granted and even forget about our mothers and our fathers and our bubbies and our zaidies while they are with us, so we become oblivious to the Hand of G-d that saves us by day and by night.
It is only in retrospect, when our parents and grandparents are no longer with us, that we realize the treasure we once had. Similarly, only when darkness envelops us do we remember the beautiful gifts G-d gave us, the blessings He showered upon us, the vigor and health He allowed us to enjoy.
This is our disease. This is our tragedy. But do we really have to lose everything before we can appreciate what we have?
(To be continued)