Torah Weekly Portion

Shemini

2010-04-06T16:48:00.000+03:00

The Stork's Flaw

Rabbi Gustavo Surazski

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A large section of Parashat Shemini that we read this Shabbat deals with the laws of kashrut in general, and with the classification of pure and impure animals in particular.

According to the Midrash, man was the first to give names to the birds, the beasts and animals. There is something wonderful in the Hebrew names of some of the animals, names that define their essence as animals. The first man gazed into the deep-down essence of each animal and gave each one its name. The donkey ("Chamor"), for example, is characterized by the hard work it performs, always carrying loads that are heavy and difficult to bear. The name "Chamor" derives from the same root as "Chomer", that is to say, material. The donkey ("Chamor") represents the material, physical world. The dog ("Kelev") is characterized by its abundant heartiness, and its name indeed includes the word "heart" ("Lev"). It even is written in our sources that the name "Chazir" (Pig) comes from the root "Ch.Z.R" (To return) because in the future to come it will chew its cud and it will be a permitted animal.

And what about the stork?

The Vilna Gaon brings us an explanation that the stork is called "Chasida" (Pious) because it always submerses itself in the water after mating. Rashi claims in his commentaries on the Torah that it is called "Chasida" because of its pious behavior ("Chasidut") of sharing food with its friends.

If all this is so, then why does the Torah include the stork among the impure animals? That doesn't make sense!

If it performs pious acts...what could be more kosher than that?

In the writings of Rabbi Yitzhak Meir from Gur (the founder of the Gur Hassidic movement in the 19th century) there is a nice explanation concerning this matter. The generosity of the stork is restricted to its immediate circle of friends and totally disregards those who are not a part of its small group. This is not the kind of piety that Judaism believes in. Therefore, the bird is impure.

I don't know whether from a zoological standpoint this is true, but it doesn't really matter. Rabbi Yitzhak Meir from Gur says that to be pious and to be Tzadik are not necessarily the same thing.

Ten years ago I worked as a Rabbi for Jewish prisoners in the main prison in Buenos Aires. Over the course of two years, every week I provided spiritual support to criminals, Jewish thieves and even murderers, who sat in prison (some of them) for more than ten years. One of the lessons that I learned from this experience is that there is no limit to the loyalty of man, even in a setting such as this.

I remember once arriving at the prison during the intermediate days of Pesach. We were supposed to celebrate the Feast of Freedom there, of all places, and so I had brought matzah and prepared food from home for the occasion. However, when I arrived, I learned that one of the prisoners was on a hunger strike...and no one wanted to eat as a sign of identification with their friend's struggle. They were criminals, stole, cheated and even murdered. Yet they still knew the meaning of friendship and loyalty...

I read an interesting piece of research about the lives of vampire bats. It appears that if one bat doesn't succeed in obtaining blood one night, another bat that did succeed (and is a part of its group or "family") will donate some of its blood to the hungry bat. The bat that succeeds in finding a "victim" sucks blood representing 50% - 100% of its body weight, and he requires this amount on a nightly basis. However, if upon returning he finds a hungry "relative", he will contribute part of his blood to the hungry bat until be can find a victim to suck its blood. This is a basic instinct needed for survival.

In any case, the bat cannot be considered a merciful animal because of this since he remains cruel and bloodthirsty.

To be pious and to be a Tzadik are not necessarily the same.

That is the flaw of the stork.

Vayikra

2010-03-18T00:41:00.000+02:00

Fortunate is the Generation

By Rabbi Gustavo Surazski

Parashat Vayikra opens with the subject of the Korbanot (offerings). One of the offerings mentioned is that of the ruler, the king and the governor.

“When a ruler sins, and does through error any one of all the things which the Lord his G-d has commanded not to be done, and is guilty: if his sin, wherein he has sinned, be know to him, he shall bring for his offering a goat, a male without blemish. And he shall lay his hand upon the head of the goat, and kill it in the place where they kill the burnt-offering before the Lord; it is a sin-offering.” (Leviticus 4, 22-24)

In Rashi’s commentaries on the Torah, he says the following regarding these verses:

"When (Asher) a ruler sins" is an expression of "good fortune" (Ashrei). [Implying that] fortunate is the generation whose leader is concerned to bring an atonement for his inadvertent sins, all the more so would he regret his intentional sins".

If we read over the previous verses, we can well understand the motive of Rashi's commentary. Regarding the priest (cohen), the Torah says: "If the anointed priest shall sin" (Vayikra 4, 3). Concerning the congregation, it is written: "And if the whole congregation of Israel shall err” (Vayikra 4, 13). When speaking of an offering from an individual, it is written: “And if any one of the common people sin” (Vayikra 4, 27).

But in regard to the ruler the phrasing is different, and Rashi was sensitive to this fact. “When a ruler sins” it says in this case, and Rashi interprets the word “when” as coming from the root “fortunate” (asher/ashrei).

On the other hand, Professor Y. Leibovitz Z"L has a less optimistic interpretation of the verse.

He also sees that the language concerning the ruler is different….

"In all of the other instances it is stated “If the priest shall sin”, “and if the whole congregation shall err” – but for the ruler it is said “when a ruler sins”.

And so we find in our sources something extremely. Every soul in Israel, and even the anointed priest, might sin, but neither reality nor logic requires that they will. Hence it says "If"

But it is certain that a ruler will sin. Why? Because he is a ruler, and the power of rule has the power to spoil and corrupt the man. Therefore the Torah doesn’t speak of the event as a possibility (if a ruler sins), rather states from the beginning “when a ruler sins” because it is certain that he will sin. It is not possible that there will be a government that will not falter and err or trespass. And that is the Torah’s general attitude towards government: it recognizes it and its authority, but warily".
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I don’t know which of these two interpretations is correct… possibly both of them and a word to the wise is sufficient…

May we have the privilege of having leadership with the ability to guide us along the correct path and to also have the ability to admit its mistakes and failures for the common good and in order that we might be able to say “Fortunate is the generation…”.

Previous Drashot

Vayikra 5766 – The Steps of Moses

Vayakhel - Pekudei

2010-03-10T22:34:00.000+02:00

Builders and Inheritors

By Rabbi Gustavo Suraszki

Torah Portion Vayakhel deals with the building of the Tabernacle while the Haftarah, in Kings 2, deals with the maintenance of the Temple (except in those years when on that Shabbat we read Parashat Ha-Chodesh).

More than once have I thought that the Tabernacle is preferable to the Temple. The Tabernacle gave the people of Israel a constant feeling of building. The Tabernacle moved from place to place and it was necessary to dismantle and reconstruct it tens of times in the course of the years.

As soon as the Temple was built, the work was done. There was no more building, only maintenance.

While it is true that the Shechinah received a permanent place with the building of the Temple, we as a people lost something along the way. We stopped being builders and became inheritors, the opposite.

We lost the courage, the creative thought and the initiative that characterize generations of builders. We became inheritors and took the building for granted.

This always happens, not only with the Temple and the Tabernacle. We can see this situation on the national level and on the congregational level.

We too can ask ourselves whether we are the builders of the country or simply the inheritors. The same question is relevant today if we speak about our congregation.
Do we take it for granted or do we see it as something that needs us as builders and not just as inheritors?

Some time ago, when I spoke to our Bar-Mitzvah group about the building of the Tabernacle, one of the boys asked me a brilliant question: Where did the people of Israel find the wood for the building of the Tabernacle?

The source of the gold for the Tabernacle was clear to all. It is written in the Torah that Israel left Egypt "with great property" (Genesis: 15, 14).

The source of the material for the curtain of the Ark was also clear. The Torah tells us that we left Egypt "with flocks and herds, very much cattle" (Exodus 12, 38).

But wood? Where are there trees in the desert?

The midrash (Tanhuma, Truma) tells us that our patriarch Jacob planted them.

When he went down to Egypt, he said to his sons: "My sons, in the future you are destined to be delivered from there, and when you are redeemed, the Lord will tell you to build Him the Tabernacle! Then rise up and plant cedars now so that when you are told to build the Tabernacle, the cedars will be ready immediately." They raised up and planted trees as they were told to do.

That is a wonderful midrash. Jacob knew that neither he himself nor his sons would ever see the Tabernacle, but to build, from the Jewish viewpoint, is not only a matter of sand and plaster, stones and bricks.

To build is an enterprise that links the generations. To build is not just an action. To build is a view of life, an onward vision.

We might say that at first glance the portion Vayakhel is a general description of the architecture and interior design of the Tabernacle. But to define the Tabernacle as an arrangement of wood, metal and curtains is as absurd as to say that a Torah scroll is a hundred metres of parchment and a litre and a half of ink.

The portion Vayakhel is a call to all generations of the people of Israel to enable us to distinguish between building and vision, and simple inheritance.

Ki Tissa

2010-03-03T11:11:00.000+02:00

Decisions with many consequences

Rabbi Gustavo Surazski

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If we take a look at the Ki Tissa portion in every Chumash, we will notice quite quickly that there is a very un-proportional division of the Aliyot. The first two Aliyot cover approx. 60% of the reading, and the other five Aliyot are relatively short. The impression left after the reading is that the Babylonian Sages who divided the Torah in Aliyot put a lot of thought into the division of this particular portion and within this division is a very deep message.

Why?

The idea is that they wanted only the Levites to read the second Aliyah which talks about the sin of the Golden Calf, simply because they are most deserving of this. Thousands of years ago, when Moshe came down from the mountain and saw the Golden Calf, he yelled "Whoever is for G-d, join me!" (Exodus 32, 26). That day, the great great grandfather of the Levite who stands up to read this Aliyah heard him and stood by him. My great great grandfather didn't hear Moshe and continued dancing around the Golden Calf.

The son's of the Levi tribe made a principal decision thousands of years ago to stand by Moshe as a sign of their trust in G-D. And today, hundreds of generations later the consequences of that decision still live on when we read this portion. Only a Levite will read from the Torah about the Golden Calf.

In life there are no random decisions. Every decision, every initiative, each choice may be of great consequence even in generations to come. And I do not speak only of Kohanim (Priests) and Levites. I speak of us.

I remember one of the saddest days of my life. I was 12 years old when my parents decided that the high school I chose to attend along with all of my friends was "not for me".

From the age of 8 I wanted to be an architect and that school had an architectural department. My father, for reasons that still remain unknown, decided that my future lay in a Jewish School in the center of Buenos Aires where 90% of the students were girls.

I cried all night. I had no friends there, my friends made fun of me saying I was going to a girl's school. But most importantly I cried because I wanted to be an architect, not to study Judaism!

Only today, at the age of 39, do I understand how justified my parents' decision was and just how many implications it had on my life. If not for this decision today I would probably be just another (unemployed) architect driving a cab through the streets of Buenos Aires like my "to be colleagues". If not for my parents' decision on next Shabbat at 5 in the morning I would be finishing the night shift in my cab. But as you know things did not work out that way. Instead, due to my parents' choice of that Jewish School for me, on Shabbat I will stand in my synagogue in Israel along with my family and congregation and I will speak of the Torah portion Ki Tissa..

Simply because every decision has consequences.

Tetzave (Zachor)

2010-02-23T08:45:00.000+02:00

Short Term Memory

by Rabbi Gustavo Surazski

When you talk to young people today about memory, it is inevitably about computers. This Shabbat, memory is also the central theme, but we are talking about a different process - a complicated process which takes place in our brains and not in a metal case.

However, this process, which seems so different from that of the computer world, is in actual fact quite similar. Computers also have a short term memory (RAM) and a long term memory. Every time we type letters into the computer they are stored in the short term memory (RAM) until we instruct the computer to store them in the long term memory (which is the hard disk). But if the computer should suddenly shut down for some reason before saving the data, these words would be erased from the computer.

We have thousands of files in the hard disk, but there are those which we do not generally open. We have saved them over the years – perhaps as a rough draft – and they are there somewhere in the disk, some of them probably never to see the light of day again. They will remain there until the end of time, until they are forgotten.

But sometimes there are files which we must save and back-up as these are the files which are vital to our lives, those without which, if lost forever, we would lose our way (and also mourn their loss!).

"Shabbat Zachor" is one of those backed-up memories which sees daylight every year. It is a vital file without which we would be lost.

"Remember what Amalek did unto thee, by the way, at your coming forth out of Egypt; How he met thee by the way, and smote the hindmost of thee, all that were feeble behind thee, when thou wast faint and weary; and he feared not God. And it shall not come to pass, when the Lord thy God giveth thee rest from all thy enemies round about, in the land which the Lord thy God giveth thee for an inheritance to possess it, that thou shalt blot out the rememberance of Amalek from under the heavens; thou shalt not forget." (Deuteronomy 25, 17-19).

RaSHI said, in his interpretation of the book of Deuteronomy, that the word "Korcha" is derived from the word "Kor" (cold):

"...All the nations feared to engage in battle with you (with Israel), but he (Amalek) came and made a start and thereby showed the way to others. It may be likened to a boiling bath into which no creature is able to descend. Then came a reprobate who sprang into it; even though he was burned, he cooled it off for others."

The war with Amalek was in some way a war which opened the door to terrorist warfare, a war which targets the weak, women, the elderly and the young. And even if Amalek is beaten in the war, we have to remember that same incident.

The late Rabbi Mordechai Hacohen had this to say in his book "Al Ha-Torah" with regard to the final words of the Amalek portion "Lo Tishkach":

We have already been commanded to remember what Amalek did to us, so how are we to fulfill the command "not to forget"?! And he answers as follows: "Lo tishkach" (Thou shalt not forget) is not a commandment - lest we forget, but a real story for the future and forever. That is to say that in every generation there will be an Amalek who will renew his decrees and his persecution and that you will never be able to forget him under any circumstances…"

Thus, this Shabbat we will remember once again because there are files in the history of the Jewish people which require back-up and opening up again each year, and because without the function of memory even an entire nation can lose its way.

Previous Drashot

Tetzave (Zachor) 5766 – Brain Gym

Terumah

2010-02-18T10:28:00.000+02:00

Deeds, not Words

Rabbi Gustavo Surazski

Parashat Terumah includes the details for constructing the sanctuary in the desert and begins with the request for an offering to support this effort.

Why does the parasha open with this request? In order to be able to answer the question, we must refer to the previous Torah reading. Last week, in the last verses of Parashat Mishpatim, we heard the people of Israel say, "All that the Lord has said we will do and obey." (Exodus 24:7).

The Gemara (Eruvin 65b) tells us (by a wonderful play on words "b'koso, b'kyo ub'kaaso") that man may be known through three things: his cup, his purse and his anger.

A man's personality is revealed in these three situations: if you want to know a person, see how he behaves after drinking one too many cups of wine. What is the nature of his gayety? (The Gemara also says "wine enters, secrets leave" (Eruvin 65a) and it is worth noting that "wine" and "secret" are both 70 according to Gematria). Do you want to get to know a person? Pay attention to his behavior when he is angry. To what extent is he able to exercise self restraint? What is his temperament and you will come to know him through his temper. Do you want to get to know a person? Ask him for money! You will then see the nature of his generosity and his concern for the needs of others. You can get to know him when you come to understand why he opens his purse, to gamble or to give to charity.

Again, why does our Parasha open with the request for offerings to build the sanctuary? It appears that G-d wants to understand the nature of the people that only a week ago said "We will do and obey". "You say "We will do and obey"? Open your purses! I will come to know your true nature by your attitude to money".

It is as if G-d says, "Standing at Mt. Sinai was very exciting, but the real test is now: only now will I understand how much you believe in the words that were said there, and what is the real distance between the written record and reality.

We can learn more about this idea by a more modern example, the history of the peace agreements signed by Israel and the Arab states. I remember when the peace agreement between Israel and Egypt was signed, I was nine years old and the world stood still for two hours. I was then in the fourth grade in a Jewish school in Buenos Aires, all lessons were stopped and we all sat opposite the one black and white 14 inch television and witnessed that historic moment. The second ceremony that I remember, between Israel and the Palestinians in 1993 I watched by myself at home. The third ceremony between Israel and Jordan in 1994 I watched by myself, on and off. I don't even remember if I watched the fourth ceremony at all. I don't remember when it was and I think it was scarcely mentioned in the news. Today, every sensible person understands that a ceremony is a ceremony and nothing more than that. Ceremonies and declarations are important things, but behind the ceremonial must lie honest and serious intentions.

Our Parasha which deals with the building of the sanctuary shortens the distance between the world of words and the world of deeds. "We will listen and obey" was only an impressive declaration. But declarations do not make history unless they are followed by deeds. G-d himself hints at the beginning of our parasha that the stage of words only has ended.

Mishpatim

2010-02-10T12:04:00.000+02:00

To go according to the majority?

By Rabbi Gustavo Surazski

A well-known text appears in our Torah Portion, Mishpatim: "Thou shalt not follow a multitude to do evil, neither shalt thou speak in a cause to incline after a multitude to pervert (justice)." (Exodus 23:2) Actually, only the last words Acharei Rabim Lehatot (to incline after a multitude) are the famous ones. To go according to the majority is a kind of slogan that supports democratic regimes.

However, if we discuss the spirit of the verse, we will see that the Torah says the opposite of the impression gained from the text during the generations. The Torah says that the majority does not always make right decisions.

There are several midrashim on this verse that try to settle the issue, especially as it is known that the majority opinion was a supreme value in several fields of the Halachah. However, if we focus on the literal meaning of the biblical text, we will see that the Torah says the opposite of what is generally understood

At any rate, those last words (to incline after a multitude) received high standing among the Sages regarding several legal issues in the Gemara, and particularly in the famous case of Achnai's oven (Baba Metzia 59b). "Achnai's oven" deals with the severe controversy that erupted among the sages regarding the impure clay oven that broke and was put together again with sand.

The Gemara tells us that Rabbi Eliezer declared the oven to be pure and the sages declared it impure. Rabbi Eliezer, who held a minority opinion, called forth many signs from heaven to prove his point. A carob tree was pulled out of its place. An aqueduct changed its course. The walls of the Beit Midrash tilted as though they would fall, and even a celestial voice was heard to justify his stand. However, the majority opinion prevailed over the minority, even though G-d was on Rabbi Eliezer's side.

This issue has current relevance beyond the limited field of halachic decision.

Democracy is not just a matter of statistics that result from election campaigns. Democracy is not just a matter of "going according to the majority". Democracy has an obligation to safe-guard the rights of minority groups and freedom of expression. Democracy must be subject to high moral standards.

For example, many voted for the Hamas movement in the Palestinian Authority. Does that make the movement a legitimate entity? Does a majority vote legitimize a terror organization?

According to prevailing opinion (even among those states that that do not support the Hamas financially) there is some legitimacy here because it was the choice of an absolute majority of the population.

But sometimes democracy is only the illusion of justice, as is said in the well-known saying: "Democracy is like Mathematics: The one (1) draws strength from the number of zeros that follow it."

RaSHI, the greatest interpreter of Biblical texts tries to settle he issue. RaSHI says:

"Regarding this verse, there are various expositions by the Sages of Israel but they do not fit the syntax of the verse". After he mentions several midrashim on the subject, he continues: "But I offer an explanation to fit the verse's syntax according to its plain meaning. And this is its interpretation: If you see wicked men distorting justice, do not say, 'Since they are the majority I may as well lean towards them'."

RaSHI says unambiguously that the majority occasionally offers an illusion of the right way. This is hinted at in the famous fable about the flies. "If a milliard flies eat garbage, a milliard flies can't be wrong."

At any rate, let's leave the garbage to the flies…

Previous Drashot

Mishpatim 5766 – The most important letter

BeShalach

2010-01-24T09:21:00.000+02:00

Burning One's Ships

Rabbi Gustavo Surazski

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A few months ago a member of our congregation told me that, prior to the establishment of the State, she used to spend Passover with her family in Cairo. She would take a train from Tel Aviv and reach the capital city of Egypt within twelve hours.

How would you travel nowadays from Tel Aviv to Cairo? Which is the shortest way?
It is, without a doubt, the same way described in Exodus 13, 17 as "through the land of the Philistines".

"And it came to pass, when Pharoah let the people go, that God did not lead them the way through the land of the Philistines, because it was near; for God said: Lest the people repent when they see war, and return to Egypt. But God led the people about, by the way of the wilderness to the Red Sea" (Exodus 13, 17-18).

That journey in the desert did not take twelve hours, but forty years. In any event, even though the journey was not supposed to have been a long one in the first place, God preferred to choose the long way (through the desert) and not the short way ("through the land of the Philistines"). Why? God feared that the nation would want to return to Egypt "when they saw war".

To enter the country via the land of the Philistines would not be an easy feat. Nor would it be an easy task to enter via the Jordan. Would the way there be free of wars?
There would also be wars across the Jordan. There would also be wars in the land of Israel…

So what was the difference then between the long and the short way?

Perhaps the answer lies in Rashi's explanation:-

"Had they travelled the straight way they would have returned (to Egypt). Now, if when He led them by a roundabout way they nevertheless said 'Let us appoint a leader and we will return to Egypt' (Numbers 14, 4) Had they gone on a straight way certainly [they would have returned to Egypt]".

Apparently God wanted to prevent them from even wanting to return to Egypt. God knew that with any sign of trouble the easiest way in their eyes would be the way back. It is always harder to deal with new problems than to go back to one's former problems.

A story is told of Alexander the Great of Macedonia, who arrived with his army at the Phoenician coast in the 4th century BC. He very quickly understood what the outcome of this war would be. The Phoenician army was three times larger than his own and the war would be totally asymmetrical. The soldiers despaired even before the battle began.

So Alexander of Macedonia planned a brilliant strategy. He asked his men to burn the ships in which they had arrived at the Phoenician coast, then gathered them together and spoke to them: "Look how the ships are burning…just because of that we will have to win the war. There is only one way to return home, and that is by sea. And after we win the war we will go there in the only remaining way: in the Phoenicians' ships!".

Facing a new reality is a long and complicated journey. The way from which there is no going back. That is the desert path. The path chosen by God to teach that particular generation which had not yet reached maturity that sometimes the only way to face challenges is to burn your ships.

Bo

2010-01-17T09:16:00.000+02:00

With our Young and with our Old

Rabbi Gustavo Surazski
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The departure of the children of Israel from Egypt already appears in Parashat Bo. After years of suffering and tears, and under the heavy pressure from his slaves, Pharoah the king of Egypt allows the people of Israel to leave for the desert to worship G-d.
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However, a very tense dialogue takes place between Pharoah and Moses. Pharoah asks Moses: "But who are they that shall go?" and Moses answers: "We will go with our young and with our old." Pharoah is not overly enthusiastic about this idea: "Not so, go now you that are men and serve the Lord for that is what you desire." (Exodus 10:8-11)
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It is possible to say a great deal about Pharoah king of Egypt. He was cruel. He was a child murderer. He was an egoist. But he was very astute. The condition that he lays down is brilliant in terms of preserving his own interests...
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But Moses is stubborn and insists on going out to the desert with both the young and the old.
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Why was it so important for Moses to leave Egypt with everyone? Why did Pharoah object? Two questions and one answer.
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Both Pharoah and Moses knew that it is impossible to go very far without a new generation. Perhaps one of the most brilliant definitions of youth was given by Rabbi Yosef Kahanman from Ponivez when he said "A child is an orphan when he does not have parents. A people is an orphan when it does not have sons and young people."
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And what about the old? Can one say that the future of a people is dependent on them? Definitely yes. The old people constitute the roots, the source of traditional practices and texts. When Pharoah said to Moses that he will not allow the young and the old to leave, he said to hin: "Your hope and your roots remain with me! Let's see how far you'll get without them...".
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It is impossible to build a people without a past and without a future, without roots and without hope, without tradition and without dreams. The moving force of any people lies in these two extremes. And without a moving force,it is impossible to achieve anything...
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Both Pharoah and Moses were aware of this.

Va-Era

2010-01-14T09:41:00.000+02:00

A hard-of-hearing people

Rabbi Gustavo Surazski

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It's true that Moses had severe speech difficulties, but there was an additional problem in Egypt. The real problem wasn't that Moses couldn't speak well. The real problem was that that the people of Israel didn't want to listen.

To leave Egypt??
The G-d of our fathers?
Who are you, Moses?

Moses was right. Those slaves were never convinced that it was preferable to be free men in a desert than to be the slaves of the pharaoh in the most important empire in the world. Already at the beginning of their journey in the desert , the first feelings of regret appeared, because at times there are people who see freedom as a real threat.

Some time ago I read about a new immigrant from the former Soviet Union who wanted to buy a pair of shoes in Natanya. She was very confused. She entered a store where there were twenty different kinds of shoes. What should she do? In the Soviet Union it had been easier. When she wanted to buy shoes, she bought the only model that was available.

To become a free person is a serious challenge. It break's a person's routine. It changes one's life completely. Moses began to understand that his brethren would have preferred to remain stuck in the past with the illusion of the fleshpots, rather than face the challenges that accompanied freedom.

There is a story about Rabbi Nahum of Chernobyl who once came to an inn and decided to spend the night there. When it was time for the evening prayer, maariv, the landlord, a simple Jew, saw the Rabbi praying with great concentration and reverence.

The Jew, who scarcely knew how to read, asked him, "Rabbi, what are you doing?"
"I am praying that with the help of God we will soon see the end of our exile, that the Messiah will come soon in our time and we will all be able to go to the Holy Land, the land of Israel."

The landlord was in shock. He went upstairs and told his wife.
"My dear, do you know that the Rabbi who arrived today just prayed for the end of our exile? Soon the Mashiach will come and take us all to the Holy Land, the land of Israel."

"The end of exile?! The Mashiach? The land of Israel?" said his wife. "Have you thought what we will do with our cows if the Mashiach comes tomorrow? And what will we do with the horses? And what about our inn?"

Again the man was in shock. He went downstairs to Rabbi Nahum and asked him, "Tell me…If the Mashiach comes and we go to the land of Israel, what will we do with our cows? And what will we do with the horses? And what about our inn?"

"Is that what you're worried about?" asked Rabbi Nahum. "Tell me: when the Cossacks come and chase you down the streets of the shtetl, do you like it? Don't you understand what I'm telling you? When the Mashaich comes, there will be no more Cossacks. We will all go to the land of Israel."

Again the landlord went upstairs and told his wife, "My dear, Rabbi Nahum is right. When the Mashiach comes, that's it! No more Cossacks! We will all go to the land of Israel!"

His wife looked at him and said, "I understand. But you go downstairs and tell this Rabbi Nahum that tomorrow too he can pray for the coming of the Mashiach, but ask him to tell the Mashiach to take the Cossacks with him to the Holy Land and leave us here in the shtetl with the cows, the horses and the inn."

Not everyone sees the coming redemption as a blessing.
The real problem was not that Moses couldn't speak well. The real problem was that the people of Israel didn't want to hear him.

Shemot

2010-01-08T11:27:00.000+02:00

I and Thou

Rabbi Gustavo Surazski

In 1923 Martin Buber wrote his book I and Thou in which he developed his Dialogic Philosophy. Buber maintains that in the system of relationships between human beings, there are two completely different views regarding our attitude towards our fellow man. We can see him as an object without a soul (like an orange that can be squeezed, for example) or we can see him as "Thou" (as a subject).

Without doubt it is easier to regard the other as object. The world of objects does not demand love, compassion, devotion or commitment. But the source of morality, according to Buber, is in the ability to realize this dialogue, to see the other as "Thou".

This is not only philosophy. Buber's Dialogic Philosophy sheds light on our relationships and makes us consider our attitudes to our children, our parents and our spouses.

The Torah portion Shemot tells of Moses' entrance to the Biblical stage and opens a new page in the history of the people of Israel in general and in the life of Moses in particular. The spoilt boy Moses, who grew up in Pharoah's palace, starts moving towards the great enterprise of his life: leading the people of Israel from slavery in Egypt to redemption.

We know in retrospect that Moses had several essential leadership qualities. But the question is what G-d saw in Moses before choosing him. Our Sages say that G-d examined Moses through the flocks. When Moses was Jethro's shepherd in the desert, a kid ran away and he ran after it till it reached a pool of water and wanted to drink. "I didn't know that you ran because you were thirsty…you are tired", said Moses and carried the kid on his shoulders. G-d said, "You have compassion in leading your flock; thus will you lead the flock of Israel." (Shemot Rabbah, 2,2)

Devotion, compassion and love are required qualities for every leader. But Moses had an additional advantage. The Torah portion tells us of three events that serve as background to the choice of Moses as leader.

The first encounter was with the Egyptian who was beating a Hebrew. "And it came to pass in those days, when Moses was grown, that he went out unto his brethren and looked on their suffering, and he saw an Egyptian striking a Hebrew, one of his brethren. He looked this way and that and saw there was no one; he killed the Egyptian and hid him in the sand." (Exodus 2, 11-12)

That event, which changed his life completely, is a prelude to the second story. "And when he went out the second day, he saw two Hebrews fighting, and said to the one who was in the wrong, 'Why do you strike your fellow man?' The Hebrew said, 'Who made you a prince and judge over us? Do you intend to kill me as you killed the Egyptian?' Moses feared and said, 'This thing is known.'" (Exodus 2, 13-14)

Two verses after that, we have the third story. "Now the priest of Midian had seven daughters, and they came and drew water and filled the troughs to water their father's flocks. The shepherds came and drove them away, but Moses stood up and helped them and watered their flocks." (Exodus 2, 16-17)

We have three different stories, but in substance they are identical. The central motif is caring about the other person, no matter who he is. In the first story he is a Jew; in the third he is a Midianite.

It does not matter who your fellow man is. The main point is to see him as "Thou", as Buber defines him. Only someone capable of seeing the other person in this way is capable of leading an oppressed mass of people, that mass without shape or distinctiveness, from slavery to redemption.

Previous Drashot

Shemot 5766 – The Eternal Burning Bush

Va-Ygash

2009-12-22T12:09:00.000+02:00

An Eternal Convenant

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Rabbi Gustavo Surazski

Sibling rivalry is a common phenomenon in the Bible, especially in Genesis. Without any doubt this is one of the most complex and problematic relationships within the family framework. There is a certain logic here. Siblings feel they must compete for parental love and attention and so it is logical that there will be friction at one stage or another.

Midrash Tanchuma bears witness to the complexity of this relationship when referring to the verse in "The Song of Songs" (8, 1) "O that thou wert as my brother". Israel exclaims before the Lord, "O that thou wert as my brother" but in the Bible all brothers hate one another, Cain hates Abel...Ishmael hates Yitzhak...Esau hates Ya'acov...and Yosef is hated by his brothers, and so who is the brother that Israel refers to when speaking to the Lord? Israel is referring to Moses and Aaron as in Psalm 133, "Behold how good and how pleasant it is for brothers to dwell together in unity".

There is however a precedent in the Book of Genesis for the desirable relation
between Moses and Aaron, it is the relationship between Yehuda and Benjamin. We can say that in Genesis a circle is closed. The problematic relations between brothers begin with Cain's chance remark after the murder, "Am I my brother's keeper?" (Genesis 4, 9). The circle is closed in last week's Parasha. The same Yehuda that in the beginning of Parashat Va-Yeshev suggests selling his brother Yosef to the Ishmaelites is the one who is the guarantor for Benjamin. Yehuda's words to his father, "I will be a surety for him, and of my hand shalt thou require him" (43, 9), are the exact opposite of Cain's words.

In the beginning of parashat Va-Yigash we see for the first time in the Bible, a man who endangers himself for his brother's sake. Benjamin is held on Yosef's orders and Yehuda is willing to fight, as Rabbi Yehuda noted in a midrash in Bereshit Rabba (63, 6). Yehuda puts himself in danger. He may even end his life in the same pit that Yosef came out of, but he keeps his promise to his father and brings his son back to him. He does not let Benjamin remain in Egypt...

At this time, Yehuda and Benjamin sign an eternal covenant. They are the tribes that composed the kingdom of Judah and the same ones who survived destruction and exile. We are the offspring of this covenant of mutual obligation made by two brothers for the first time since the creation of the world.

And when the Lord searched for a place for His Shekhinah, He decided on the place where these brothers dwelt. The Temple was built on the border between the tribe of Yehuda and the tribe of Benjamin.

Miketz - Chanukah

2009-12-14T08:36:00.001+02:00

The Unknown Hero

by Rabbi Gustavo Surazski

Although Passover is regarded as the festival of questions, Chanukah has also earned a question of its own - the famous question known as "the Bet Yosef's question" which seems rather simple at first...

Chanukah is an 8-day festival in honor of the miracle of the jug of oil, which was supposed to last for only one day but burned for eight. But according to this, the miracle occurred for only seven days since there was enough oil for the first day. So one of the eight candles in fact lit up normally and therefore doesn't symbolize any miracle whatsoever! If so, why are we supposed to light candles for eight days on Chanukah? Perhaps Chanukah should really be a 7-day festival instead?

Many solutions have been offered to this puzzle and it is impossible to mention all of them. The "Bet Yosef" himself offers three answers in his book:

. The jug of oil was divided into 8 parts, each for one day. The miracle occurred because each eighth part was enough to burn for one day.

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. On the first night the menorah was filled with all of the oil in the jug. The miracle occurred on the first night after the menorah which had burned all night long filled up with oil again, and yet again on each subsequent night.

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. Each night, immediately after the menorah was filled with oil, the jug filled up again.

(We should note that, according to the last two answers, the question should then apply to the eighth day, when there was enough oil to light the menorah, and therefore no real miracle occurred).

One of the most brilliant answers I have heard on this subject is a new interpretation by the late Rabbi Shmuel Avigdor HaCohen Z"L. He claimed that this candle was lit in honor of the great priest who did not despair at the time of the desecration of the Temple by the Greeks and hid the jug of oil, fully expecting that the Temple would one day be rebuilt. This "cocktail" of foresight, hope and faith within this one man was a miracle in itself. He deserves an extra candle...

Many people think that the words "dream" and "vision" are interchangeable. But this is not the case at all. To dream and to be a visionary are not necessarily the same thing.

At the beginning of Parashat Vayeshev Joseph has a dream and builds his entire world (or rather, those parts of it under his control) around his vision. Pharoah, in contrast, also has a dream, but he awakens, falls asleep again and continues to dream...with cows.

He also dreams, we all dream, but he doesn't know what to do about his dream. He needs someone to interpret it for him and advise him what to do.

In Joseph's case it is different, The Torah describes him using two different words: he is a man of discernment (Navon) and a man of wisdom (Chacham). These words are also not interchangeable.

A man of discernment is one who can find an answer to any question. Ruling an empire like the Egyptian one during those years of famine requires great intelligence. Even a dreamer can be a clever man.

But wisdom is something entirely different. A wise man is one who does not only make the correct analysis, but also knows how to apply it correctly! It is true that Joseph was a man of discernment, but it was his wisdom and not only his discernment that saved Egypt. .
In the same way it can be said that it is true that a miracle occurred on Chanukah; but this miracle was not created from nothing. Behind this miracle is the unknown hero of the festival of Chanukah: that High Priest who happened to dream that the day would come when the Greeks would be banished from the Temple together with all of their gods. But it also occurred to him to save and hide the jug of oil, so that those who would follow after him could rekindle the menorah when the Temple was rebuilt.

That is the difference between a dreamer and a visionary.

Previous Drashot

Miketz (Chanukah) 5766 - Body and Spirit

Vayeshev

2009-12-07T09:44:00.001+02:00

Fathers and Sons

by Rabbi Gustavo Surazski

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LeIlui Nishmat Bela bat Moshe VeLeah Z"L
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"These are the generations of Jacob, Joseph..." (Bereshit 37:2)

Torah portion Vayeshev already in the second verse suggests the many implications of educating children. The very structure of the sentence creates the feeling of a son following in his father's footsteps.

In the Zohar it is said that the three patriarchs stand for the three pilgrimage festivals.

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Pesach (Passover) stands for Avraham (who told his wife, Sarah, to "knead and make cakes" [Genesis 18:6]) Shavuoth (when we hear the shofar) stands for Isaac (as the shofar was made of the horn of the ram sacrificed instead of Isaac in the story of the akedah). Succoth stands for Jacob (who "made booths for his cattle" [Genesis 33:17] ).

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The Zohar adds that Shmini Atzeret stands for Joseph, because as Shmini Atzeret is the continuation of Succoth, so Joseph is the natural continuation of Jacob, our patriarch.

Our sages remark on the similarities between Jacob and his son, Joseph. Perhaps we might expect the Torah to say: "These are the generations of Jacob, Reuven", who was the eldest son. But the Torah shows Jacob's imprint on the heart of Joseph, the son Jacob and Rachel.

Joseph is similar to Jacob, not only in things that happened to him, but also in characteristics. Jacob was born circumcised and so was Joseph. Jacob's mother was barren and so was Joseph's. Jacob's mother had difficulty in the sorrow of his conception, and Joseph's mother had difficulty in the hour of giving birth. Jacob's mother gave birth to two, and so did Joseph's. Jacob's brother wished to kill him, and so did Joseph's brothers.

The list is even longer.

Jacob married a woman out of the land of Israel, and so did Joseph. Both became self-important through their dreams. Both went down to Egypt. Both were embalmed and both were later brought for burial in the land of Israel (Bemidbar Rabbah 14:5).

When I read this midrash, I think of myself and my father. I have asked myself many times if my father influenced my way of life as an observant Jew in general and as a Rabbi in particular.

My father is a secular Jew. I have almost no memories of going to the synagogue, nor of kosher food in the house, nor of Sabbath observance. Until a few years ago, I thought that his influence in this respect was non-existent. I learnt from him to be honest, to love books…and I inherited his sense of humor.

But some weeks ago I remembered something that happened when I was in the fourth grade in the Jewish school in Argentina. We were putting on a show for the end of the year and were going to do a Hassidic style dance. We were told to wear black trousers and white shirts and to bring a talit for the costume.

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I was the only child in the class that did not bring a talit from home. My father (whom I had never seen wearing a talit) said that a talit is not for dressing up and asked my grandmother to sew something similar for me to wear. I cried and tried to persuade my father that I would be the only child without a real talit, but he did not relent.

Only today, after almost thirty years, do I understand how strongly I was impressed by that tiny distinction between holy and secular, between an improvised make-believe talit and a real talit.

Many people with grown up children turn to me and say, "You know, Rabbi, time has proved that I brought my children up correctly."

There is a wonderful story about an old sailor who stopped smoking when he saw his parrot coughing madly. He at once thought that the coughing was a symptom of pneumonia as a result of the smoke from his pipe.

The sailor took his poor parrot to the vet who examined it thoroughly. At the end he found the parrot in good health. "Don't worry", said the vet to the sailor. "Your parrot's well. He just learned to imitate your coughing".

"These are the generations of Jacob… Joseph".

It is the nature of man. For better or worse, children imitate their parents.

As a famous saying states: "Whoever is concerned with days sows wheat; whoever thinks of years plants trees; whoever thinks of generations raises children".

Previous Drashot

Vayeshev 5766 - A True Hero

Vayishlach

2009-11-30T09:56:00.000+02:00

Two countries for two nations
By Rabbi Gustavo Suraszki

At the beginning of this portion, Yaakov Avinu is filled with anxiety over the approaching meeting with his brother Esav after a twenty year separation. He doesn’t know what to expect. He only knows that Esav is coming towards him with four hundred men from his people.

Yaakov's lack of certainty concerning his fate is expressed very well by RaSHI, with his saying that prior to this meeting, "Yaakov prepared himself for three things: for a gift, for prayer and for war" (RaSHI on Bereshit 32, 9). In other words: Yaakov didn’t know what to do – whether to tempt his brother in order to find favor in his eyes and to develop a feeling of “political horizon”, or to prepare for a destructive war, or whether to depend on the grace of The Holy One.

However, from the perspective of this weekly portion’s reader, there isn’t much room for optimism. A person reading the Torah for the first time will immediately feel that there isn’t much room for making peace, rather for revenge and the beginning of waves of violence between the two sides. There is a great probability that in the end, blood will be spilled at the site of the meeting. However, in the end, the two adversaries kiss and embrace in the center of the arena.

Many commentaries have been made on this very same embrace. There are those who say that Esav “nashak” (kissed) his brother with all his heart (RaSHI on Bereshit 33, 4), and there are those who say that Esav “nashach” (bit) him with all his heart. Between “kissed” and “bit” (“nashak”- “nashach”) there are innumerable commentaries. One of them is the commentary of Rabbi Shimon Bar Yochai (which was cited in RaSHI’s commentary on Bereshit 33, 4) which states: "It is a rule that it is common knowledge that Esav hates Yaakov, but, his pity was aroused at that moment and he kissed him wholeheartedly”.

Rabbi Shimon Bar Yochai describes this embrace, in my humble opinion, in a rather problematic fashion. He says that Esav’s hate towards his brother was known (it’s a rule, an halacha!!) and only at that moment did his compassion grow for his brother.

This feeling doesn’t change, hints RaSHbI. In RaSHbI’s opinion, Esav was a “serial hater” and that hate was in his DNA code. Only on rare occasions was he able to have compassion for his brother Yaakov. The embrace was genuine, but RaSHbI was convinced that it was almost “a miracle”. It is impossible to rely on a person like that, because it is impossible to rely on a miracle.

At the beginning of our Torah portion, the RaMbaN says “that all what occured to our forefather with his brother Esav will always occure to us with the sons of Esav.” He is basically describing this meeting as a “prototype” of all of the meetings that occurred over the generations between the Jewish people (B’nei Yisrael) and the nations of the world. Meetings in which there were kisses that were also bites, and embraces that were counterfeit; meetings in which the suspicion dominated the setting.

Even if the RaMbaN related to the prototype principally in regard to “the sons of Esav”, I feel that it can also serve as a prototype of the relations between us and the sons of Ishmael.

What do we learn from this meeting between Yaakov and Esav?

The first thing that it teaches us is that even if the kiss was genuine, it didn’t make them friends forever. But the most important point is not in the present story. The important point is that on that occasion, they understood that there was room in the world for both of them. And most importantly: they understood that there is no more important battle than the struggle for co-existence between two entirely different conceptions of the world.

It’s reasonable to assume that Yaakov and Esav continued to live very differently from each other as they did at the time of their births. Even if Esav invited his brother to continue the journey together in saying “... "Travel on and let us go" (Bereshit 33, 12), Yaakov quickly realized that there was no point to it. Yaakov continued along his path to the Land of Canaan, and Esav made his way to Seir. That was perhaps one of the first opportunities in history in which the slogan has made: "Two countries for two nations".

Previous Drashot

Parashat Vayishlach - A Struggle of Conscience

Parashat Vayishlach - Fear and Forgiveness

Vayetze

2009-11-25T11:58:00.000+02:00

Between Edom and Lavan

Rabbi Gustavo Surazski

At the beginning of Parashat Vayetze, Ya'akov flees from his brother after the painful episode of the sale of the birthright and the blessing of his father Yitzhak.

It would seem that Ya'akov had a problem with colors. He fled from Edom (Heb. Red) and fell into the hands of Lavan (Heb. White). He had no other place to go. He felt like the People of Israel on the shore of the Red Sea in the desert with the Egyptians behind them and the sea in front of them.

What should he do?

One wants to kill him and the other exploits him and makes him realize that he has much to learn about cheating and exploitation. The former threatens his body and the latter threatens his spirit.

Ya'akov did not have an easy life. He lost his beloved wife prematurely. His daughter Dina was kidnapped and raped by Shechem the son of Hamor. He saw his son Reuven lie with his mistress Bilha. He suffered the disappearance of his beloved son Yosef, and thought that he had died. Ya'akov himself speaks of his difficult experiences in Parashat Vayigash when he says to Pharoah: "Few and evil have the days of the years of my life been" (Genesis 47:9)

However, this upheaval that occurs in our father Ya'akov's life in our Parasha, does him good. In retrospect, we can say that between our Parasha and Parashat Vayishlach, Ya'akov undergoes the process of changing from the "Ya'akov" to the "Yisrael".

The struggle with the angel that will take place next week is only the end of the process. This process and the name change that takes place in Parashat Vayishlach, bears witness to the victory of our father Ya'akov. The name "Ya'akov" reminds us of the word "akov" (Heb. crooked) and the name "Israel" reminds us of the word "yashar" (Heb. straight, upright).

Ya'akov escapes from Cana'an "akov" (a Crooked) and a liar, after twenty years he returns to Cana'an "yashar" (straight, upright) after having tasted integrity and fairness. He has become another person and returns to Cana'an a mature man. Between the flight from Edom and the flight from Lavan, he has found himself.

There is a story that once there was a farmer who asked G-d for control of the natural forces so that his crops would succeed and G-d granted his wish. Thus, every time that the farmer wanted a light rain, there was a light rain and every time he wanted sunshine, the sun shone.

However, at harvest time it became apparent that all his work had been in vain, and his year's work a total failure.

The man approached G-d, hurt and angry and asked him about the unexpected results. Why, if he had the power to control the natural forces, did everything come out the opposite of what was expected?

G-d said to him: "You asked for the things that you wanted, but what you wanted was not necessarily what the earth needed. You wanted sun and light rain, but you never wanted a storm and it is on the contrary the storms and heavy rains that are beneficial to the earth, frightening the birds and insects and cleansing the crops from pests."

Sometimes there is nothing more beneficial in life than a storm, even if it hurts a great deal (even the purest oil undergoes a painful process of crushing) Who knows what would have happened to Ya'akov had he not experienced this upheaval. What would his life have been without the pursuit of Edom and the exploitation of Lavan?

It is possible that Ya'akov would have remained the same spoiled child in Rivka's house, while she decided everything for him. Perhaps he would have remained the same "innocent man sitting in his tent" living in the shadow of his dominant Yiddishe Mame who would protect him from every possible upset.

Who would have guessed that between Edom (red) and Lavan (white) Ya'akov would find "a rosy life" (perhaps for the only period in his life)? Precisely in this difficult period he found happiness.

And the literary expression is: he labored for seven years in order to win Rachel for his wife and the seven years were in his eyes "like a few days" (Genesis 29:20). Only a happy man can feel that seven years of hard labor are like a few days...

Sometimes the nature of a storm is such that it can also be beneficial.

Previous Drashot

Vayetze 5766 - Reaching for Heaven

Toldot

2009-11-16T12:12:00.000+02:00

The sad story of a compulsive consumer

by Rabbi Gustavo Surazski

One of the most famous stories in the Torah is that of Esau selling his birthright to Jacob in exchange for lentil stew, and Isaac mistakenly blessing Jacob towards the end of this portion.

Many plead in poor Esau's defence for being tricked out of his birthright by his own brother. There are even those who tend to see Jacob as the one who cynically took advantage of Esau's condition.

But even at the simplest literal level, we can see that this is only half true. In the same way that Jacob took advantage of Esau's exhaustion, Esau did not value his own birthright. Esau knew only how to listen to his gut instinct and act on his impulses without weighing up the implications...

At the moment of selling, Esau was totally impulsive...and made a wrong decision. But man is the sum total of all his decisions. It is true that there are things in life which are beyond our control. Forces of nature, and (G-d forbid) diseases and death itself. But an incorrect decision about those things which are in our control can harm us and come back like a boomerang even after many years. For a wrong decision resembles an arrow. While the arrow is under man's control he can do with it as he pleases. But the moment he has shot the arrow, he can no longer call it back...

This is what happened to Esau. He let his instinct decide and did not understand exactly how this act would affect him in the future.

I heard a story about Rabbi Alexander Ziskind of Grodno. Every year he broke his fast on Yom Kippur by eating a very bony fish. Why? Because this way he was forced to eat slowly and not devour his food. He decided that even at the moment of the greatest possible hunger, the soul should be in control of the body, and not otherwise.

And thus Esau could be considered the first typical compulsive consumer in the history of mankind. What is a compulsive consumer? Firstly, it is a person who cannot control himself and buys goods simply to satisfy his obsessions. This applies not only to someone who rushes to a store to buy the latest state-of-the art cellular phone on the market even if he doesn't really need one, or the person who upgrades his internet capabilities simply because the company called and encouraged him to do so. A compulsive consumer is mostly a person who is prepared to pay a very high price for something which is basically worthless. How much would a lentil stew be worth? Of course it would have some value, especially if one were hungry. But to give up one's birthright for a lentil stew sounds rather exaggerated.

A compulsive consumer is a person who makes secondary issues his primary concern, and considers essential matters to be subordinate to these.

A most interesting and graphic example of this is the law of the "Ikar and Tafel" as regards the world of blessings. A person eating a banana recites the blessing "Borei pri haadama", while one eating whipped cream recites the blessing "Shehakol nihiya bedvaro". But what happens when someone eats a banana with whipped cream? Which should one bless? The answer is "Borei pri haadama" because in this meal the banana is the main portion (Ikar) and the cream the smaller part (Tafel).

I would say that a person who knows in a similar way how to give essential matters primary importance in his life, is a person who is moving towards a life of blessings, just like the one which Jacob received from his father Isaac.

We can move towards or away from blessings, based on the decisions we make in our lives. That blessing was not, in fact, stolen from Esau. Esau simply lost it along the path he chose.
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Previous Drashot
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Toldot 5766 - The Brawn and the Brain

Vayera

2009-11-02T09:45:00.000+02:00

Abraham's Virtue

Rabbi Gustavo Surazski

In this week's Portion, Vayerah, the Torah speaks explicitly and extendedly about Abraham's special attitude towards the Mitzvah of Hachnasat Orchim (Hospitality). It is known that Abraham was still recuperating from the painful circumcision, but only three days after the brit, he was already sitting at the opening of is tent...

Rashi questions: Why did he sit at the opening? And answer: "To see those who pass and invite them in".

We know how much Abraham went out of his way to show good hospitality to the angels. Ran to the livestock, slaughtered a cow, baked cakes, brought a bowl to wash their feet.

While physically still "grieving" the Mitzvah of circumcision (Brit Milah), he found the strength to serve G-D by fulfilling the Mitzvah of hospitality (Hachnasat Orchim).

But in our portion we have yet another story of hospitality given by Lot, the son of Abraham's brother...

He too knew how to fulfill this Mitzvah!

When the angels came to announce the upcoming destruction of Sodom and Gomorrah, Lot too sat at the city gates of Sodom, got up, walked towards them and invited them to his home. Why if this is so is only Abraham our father written in the texts of the Sages as an outstanding provider of hospitality, and no one speaks about the quality of Lot?

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There is a story told of the famous Rabbi Levi Yitzchak of Berditchev, who, in his travels, came to the city of L'vov.

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Seeking a lodging place, he approached one of the wealthy townsmen, and, without identifying himself, asked for a place to stay. The wealthy man yelled at him angrily, "We don't need wayfarers here. Go to a hotel!".

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Rabbi Levi Yitzchak then approached a poor Melamed (teacher), who welcomed him graciously, offering him food to eat and a place to sleep.

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On the way to the poor man's house, someone recognized Rabbi Levi Yitzchak as the famed Rabbi of Berditchev. Soon all the townsfolk came out to greet and see the face of the venerable Rabbi. Among them of course was the wealthy man, who proceeded to ask for forgiveness, and beseeched the Rabbi to stay with him at his home.

In response, Rabbi Levi Yitzchak turned to the gathered people and said, "Do you know the difference between Abraham, our Father of blessed memory, and Lot? Why does scripture go into such detail about the full meal Abraham served the angels? After all, Lot also baked matzos and prepared a feast for his guests? Why is Abraham's hospitality considered special and not Lot's?".

Rabbi Levi Yitzchak of Berditchev answered his own question by pointing out that when the guests came to Lot, scripture states (Genesis 19:1) "The two angels (malachim) came to Sodom". Whereas with Abraham the Torah says (Genesis 18:2) "And behold he saw three people (anashim) standing upon him". Lot saw angels! Who wouldn't accept angels into his home? Whereas, Abraham saw poor wanderers, ragged, fatigued and covered with dust, in need of a placed to rest and a little food.

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Lot too knew how to act; he too knew the meaning of hospitality. But he had a flaw in his heart. He only knew how to provide hospitality, for appearance's sake. May it be God's will that the verse "Purify our heart to serve You sincerely" be fulfilled in our lives.

Lech Lecha

2009-10-25T09:08:00.000+02:00

A True Visionary

by Rabbi Gustavo Surazski

At the beginning of Parashat Lech Lecha, we once again hear the famous call to Abraham Avinu: "G-d said to Abram, 'Go away from your land, from your birthplace, and from your father's house, to the land that I will show you. I will make you into a great nation. I will bless you and make you great. You shall become a blessing". (Genesis 12:1-2).

RaSHI was sensitive to the fact that several blessings were made to Abraham during this one particular calling. It is written: "I will make you into a great nation. I will bless you and make you great". Perhaps it would have been sufficient to promise "You shall become a blessing"...Why was it necessary to give the blessings in such detail?

RaSHI brings a wonderful and penetrating response to this same question.

Why were three promises needed?

Since traveling causes three things: It inhibits the birth of children, and decreases one's wealth and lessens one's fame, therefore, these three blessings were necessary. He [G-d], promised him children, wealth and fame.

RaSHI states that a man who chooses to go on any new path might have to pay a heavy price for his decision. His family might have to pay a heavy price. His fortune might suffer. The person’s good name could be affected by the change.

According to RaSHI, a man of vision takes risks and it appears to me that this comment is also relevant in a week during which we commemorate the assassination of Prime Minister Yitzhak Rabin z”l.

An interesting example to help understand the power of a vision is to look at the area of road paving. Today, we travel on orderly roads that have been paved with careful consideration by engineers and professionals. But who chose the path of the road upon which we travel?

In the present day, road builders can be assisted by modern technology such as satellite pictures during the planning of the project, but there are cases in which we travel upon a road that was paved hundreds and even thousands of years ago by some unknown pioneer who was searching for his way between the mountains. Others followed in his footsteps until these same footsteps became a dirt path. After many generations, those first footsteps became a stone road and then later paved with asphalt.

Today, travel is a simple matter. We know how to reach our desired destination, and sometimes we even know how long it will take to reach it. But the first person to go took risks. He did not know what awaited him on the other side of the mountain. He also did not know when he would arrive. He did not know if his donkey or ox would survive the hardships of the journey.

This is precisely what happened to Abraham Avinu. And so Abraham needed those three blessings, because it would be difficult for him as it is for any individual who wants to begin something new.

A few days ago, I read that Thomas Edison conducted two thousands of experiments before he succeeded in inventing the electric light bulb.

Journalists asked him at the time how he felt failing those thousands of times until he saw the fruit of his labor. He replied: “I didn’t fail, not even once. It was simply a successful process with two thousands steps.”

A famous saying goes: "All beginnings are difficult". I would like to add to this today: "If it isn’t difficult, it’s a sign that you have not yet begun". We have a tendency to think that Abraham’s journey to the Land of Canaan is the beginning of our Parashah. However, if we look at the end of the previous section, we see that at the end of Parashat Noah there was the point in time when Abraham left Ur Kasdim (see Genesis 11:31-32).

The Torah says something most interesting. Terah (Abraham's father) also wanted to reach the Land of Canaan, but he arrived in Haran and remained there. For Terah, going to Canaan was not a matter of values. Abraham continued on, even when he knew that he was taking a huge risk. But a person of vision always takes risks.

To be a person of vision, one doesn’t require the particular characteristic attributed to those of singular greatness such as Abraham Avinu, nor those of the other heroes of our nation. We also, in our simple lives, find ourselves standing at crossroads where we have to decide whether to continue in the direction of our vision, or come to a standstill from fear of taking risks.

And from this point in time, only we can decide whether we will fulfill ourselves in the world, despite the dangers, or continue our lives with the continuous feeling of having missed a new opportunity.

Noah

2009-10-20T20:21:00.000+02:00

Stone or Window

By Rabbi Gustavo Surazski

The story of Noah is one of children's favourites as it is a story full of animals, birds, colours and a rainbow.

We tend to picture Noah sunbathing on the deck of the ark with the elephant, the giraffe and the monkeys, but when we read the description of the ark in the Torah, we see that it is not at all the way we draw or imagine it.

There was no place to sunbathe because the ark had no deck. Actually, the ark was more like a submarine than a boat. There was one window in the ark and only through that could those inside see what was happening outside.

However, this too is a controversial point. The word Chalon (window) does not appear in the Torah portion which uses the word Tsohar which has more than one meaning. Some interpret it as an aperture, or skylight, which is a kind of window, while others interpret it as a precious stone (RaSHI).

Rabbi Shlomo Kluger makes an interesting comment: What is the difference between a precious stone and a window? A window lets light in and through it we see what is happening outside. A precious stone has light within but we cannot see through it.

This difference is that between those who say that Noah the righteous man sat in the ark but his heart was with what was happening outside, and those who say that Noah cared only about himself and didn't care about what was happening outside the ark.

The ark, in the story of Noah, symbolizes security, the bubble or the ivory tower.

Everyone in his life sits in his own ivory tower. There are those who are financially secure and forget that there is poverty and hunger in the world, maybe even in their neighbor's house. There are those who have the support of family and friends who forget that there are many people in the world who suffer from unbearable loneliness.

There are many bubbles that may enclose us.

There is a famous dispute in the Gemarah (Megilah 24b) between Rabbi Yehuda and the Sages as to whether a blind person is obliged to recite the blessing on the lights. How can a blind person say "forms the light and creates darkness" (Yotser Or Uvore Hoshekh) if he has never seen daylight?

Rabbi Yossi in the Talmud states that he was always puzzled by the verse "You will grope at noontime as a blind person gropes in the darkness" (Deuteronomy 28:29).

What difference does it make to a blind person whether it is day or night? He cannot see in either case! Then Rabbi Yossi himself answers through the following tale:

It happened that he himself was walking in the dark of night and came across a blind man carrying a torch.

He said to the blind man, "My son, why are you carrying a torch?".

The blind man answered: "As long as I carry the torch, people can see me coming and come to my aid so that I do not trip and fall".

The purpose of light is not only to light the way for ourselves but also to enable us to see others and their world.

The controversy regarding the word "Tsohar" is not marginal. It is about the essence of a well-ordered society.

"Go out of the ark", says G-d to Noah when the waters subside, for there is a world outside your bubble.

Only Noah will decide whether he will turn the Tsohar into Zohar (brightness, radiance) and bring light to the world, or whether he will turn the Tsohar into Sohar (a prison) and enclose himself as he was in the ark and keep the light to himself.

Bereshit

2009-10-13T10:20:00.000+02:00

The Righteous Bird

by Rabbi Gustavo Surazski

A rather short and wonderful commentary tells us that everyone tasted from the Tree of Knowledge except a bird called Chol (Genesis Rabbah 19). According to our Sages, the same lone and righteous bird still lives in the Garden of Eden to this day. He lives alone in the Garden and no one knows him.

As our Sages see it, the Chol bird symbolizes the tension between public opinion and personal opinion. Would we be prepared to pay the price of social exclusion in exchange for choosing a moral and correct course of action? Isn't it really preferable to act according to the opinion of the widest majority, even if it is warped?

And we are not only speaking of corruption here. There are less meaningful social customs which we would prefer not to choose, and which social pressure causes us to choose anyway. Even the smallest and most irrelevant things such as clothing fashions.

And here is another example connected to Israeli reality: I am driving in a massive traffic jam on the road which is moving ten meters per minute, and I see one car, then a second and a third car overtaking me from the right hand side, along the edge of the road, which is forbidden, and nevertheless arriving home one and a half hours before me. And at the same moment I would like to be just like them, but I know that it would be wrong...

This is the tension between personal and public opinion...and this is the point of the midrash about the Chol, the righteous bird.

I read about a very interesting experiment performed by an American university a few years ago. On one board was a drawing of ten equal parallel lines of equal length and ten volunteers stood opposite the board. They were asked to answer only one question: Are the ten lines identical? They all replied in the negative.

How is it possible that ten people would say "no" to something so obvious and openly visible? Wasn't it clear to everyone that those lines were equal?

The answer is simple. Out of the same ten volunteers, nine belonged to the university staff. Only the tenth was an outsider. The experiment was supposed to test the reaction of the tenth person, and his ability to express an opinion which contradicted that of the majority. He thought that it was an experiment of the Exact Sciences Faculty, but it was, in fact, of the Humanities Faculty...

In this same experiment, the Chol, that lone and righteous bird, would have contradicted the majority. And how about the rest of us?

According to the book of Genesis, two cherubim stand at the entrance of the Garden of Eden in order to guard the way to the Tree of Life. But…who knows? Perhaps they are also standing there to prevent that righteous bird from leaving. Because public opinion is such a persuasive force, and the temptation is always so great...

Nitzavim

2009-09-07T12:14:00.000+03:00

We were there

by Rabbi Gustavo Surazski

On a flight to Buenos Aires I once met a man who embraced me as if I'd always known him. I looked at him, and he understood that he had made a mistake.

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"I'm sorry," I said. "I don't know you."

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He blushed, but cleverly got himself out of an embarrassing situation by saying: "Perhaps we met at the revelation at Mount Sinai. We were all there!"

The reaction of that Jew finds support in one of our Torah portion, Nitzavim, in which is described the renewal of the covenant that was made 40 years earlier at the foot of Mount Sinai.

"Not with you only do I make this covenant and administer this oath, but with him that stands here with us this day before the Lord our G-d, and also with him that is not here with us this day." (Deuteronomy 29, 13-14). Rashi explains: "And even with future generations."

In effect the Torah tells us that we were all there to the same extent as we all went out of Egypt and received the Torah. Throughout the generations Jews are born and live within a culture that teaches that we were all witnesses to the revelation, even those who became part of the Jewish religion later. This was a unique event, unparalleled in human history, that the entire Jewish people, from children to the aged, were privileged to meet G-d. All other claims to divine revelation in other cultures and other peoples are based on one man or on a limited group that received divine revelation.

This perception is revolutionary and incomprehensible to other peoples. Our neighbors and those that hold anti-Zionist views are sure that the Jewish people has no right to our land because most of us are not descendants of the inhabitants of the ancient land of Israel.

"Your place is in Russia, or Poland, or Rumania" they say to Jews of Ashkenazi origin. Not long ago an enemy of the Jews said that the Middle Eastern conflict will be resolved when we return to those places.

An interesting halachic issue deals with the same point. The Rambam was once asked by Ovadiah the convert, who had been born to a Christian family in Italy, if he was entitled to make the blessing and say "Our God and the God of our fathers" (Eloheinu Ve-Elohei Avotenu) or "That sanctified us with his commandments and commanded us" (Asher Kidshanu B’mitzvotav V’tzivanu) or "who has set us apart" (Asher Hivdilanu) or "who chose us" (Asher Bachar Banu) and so on.

The Rambam's answer was unambiguous. Whoever joins the Jewish people is a Jew in every sense, and he joins the Jewish heritage of generations, even if from a genetic point of view he does not belong. Even he who was not present was there. Whoever chose to join the Jewish people chose to be present at the revelation at Mount Sinai.

We all stood at the foot of Mount Sinai. For Mount Sinai is not simply a geographical site. Belonging to the Jewish people does not involve a DNA test.

Ki Tavo

2009-09-01T09:41:00.000+03:00

Recognizing the Good

By Rabbi Gustavo Surazski

A millionaire left his office as usual at the end of a day's work and found a beggar asking him for charity.

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"Ten shekels in the name of G-d," said the beggar. "I will soon be going to sleep and have not yet drunk a cup of coffee…"

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The millionaire put his hand in his pocket, gave him a one hundred shekel note and said to him: "Take a hundred, so that you can drink not one, but ten cups of coffee".

The next day the same beggar was again waiting for the millionaire after work, and boxed him straight in his left eye.

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"Tell me," the millionaire said, immediately recognizing him, "are you crazy?! Only yesterday I gave you a hundred shekels so you could go to sleep with a little food in your stomach…. and now you hit me?"

Then the beggar said to him: "And who do you think can sleep after ten cups of coffee?!".

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…………

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"Todah Rabah" ("Thank you very much") is one of the first expressions every child (or even every new immigrant) learns to say. How often does a child hear the words "Say thank you"? And every parent knows that it's not enough to simply think it to yourself. We have to say it.

But knowing “how” to say “thank you” and to feel the need to say “thank you” are two completely different things. Feeling and expressing thanks are difficult things to do.

The mitzvah of Bikurim, with which we begin the portion of Ki Tavo, symbolizes the recognition of goodness. A Jew who is able to perform this mitzvah brings the first of his fruits to the Holy Temple in Jerusalem, where he presents them to the priest while professing his thanks to G-d for all the goodness He has shown him.

The traditionally accepted way in which we express our thanks to the Lord for His goodness and forgiveness is called "Mikra Bikurim", and this is the opening line of the portion. "And now, behold, I have brought the first of the fruits of the soil, which Thou, O G-d, hast given me" (Deuteronomy 26, 10).

The expression of thanks is a central value in Jewish tradition, and here are some examples.

Firstly: The first word which every Jew is supposed to say when he wakes up in the morning is the word: modeh ("I give thanks to Thee, O living and eternal King, who hast restored my soul unto me in mercy: great is Thy faithfulness").

Secondly: We must always remember the meaning of the word "Jew". The word "Yehudi" (Jew) comes from the word "Hodaya" (thanksgiving). When Judah was born, his mother Leah said: "Now I shall give thanks to G-d" (Genesis 29, 35). We are expected to know when to express thankfulness.

Thirdly: It is written in the Midrash: In the Time to Come all sacrifices will be annulled, but that of thanksgiving will not be annulled and all prayers will be annulled except for the thanksgiving prayer, which will never be annulled (Lev. Rabbah 9).

Recognizing the good and giving thanks were instituted by our Sages as a central aspect of our daily routine: not only "modeh ani" but also the blessing "modim" in the three daily prayer services, and "nodeh lecha" in grace after meals. Saying “thank you” rids a person of the idea that he deserves everything.

There are those who go about with the feeling that the whole world is always indebted to them. Therefore anything they receive is owed to them and there is absolutely no need to recognize it as good.

Fourth and last example: At the end of every "amidah" prayer we have, as I have already mentioned, the blessing "modim".

On repeating the amidah, when the cantor says "Modim Anachnu Lach" the congregation says in a whisper what is called "Modim De-Rabbanan". “Modim De-Rabbanan” is a blessing which was instituted by our sages, just as all the blessing were instituted by them (actually the "Modim" which the cantor says was also compossed by our Sages).

So why the need for a double thanksgiving? Why don't we whisper a second version for the other amidah blessings?

Rabbi David Abudraham says in his explanation for the siddur that a "Shaliach" (representative) can release us from all amidah blessings, health blessing, blessing of making a living, etc but there is one thing that he cannot do in our name, no one can say it instead of us, and that is saying "thank you".

There, the "Power of Attorney" held by the shaliach is no longer applicable.

Ekev

2009-08-03T12:27:00.000+03:00

The First Jewish Steps

Rabbi Gustavo Surazski

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The haredi district of Meah She'arim in Jerusalem is a microcosm in which the walls speak for themselves. It is a neighborhood in which each poster reflects the way the residents of that area think and live.

A few years ago, walking through the district, I read a poster that said: "The Council of Torah Sages warns you that connection to the Internet constitutes a flagrant violation of Jewish Law."

I was astonished by the tone of the poster, but I quickly understood it. In the 19th century, leaving the ghetto was to wear modern clothes or to go to the university. But today, if one who fears G-d is connected to the web in the Meah She'arim area, he will be mentally outside the ghetto even though he still lives inside it.

However, Jewish life has another facet which is as a dangerous phenomenon for our people's health as the phenomenon of the Meah She'arim posters.

Today, the greatest pride for many Jews is living outside the ghetto in all aspects of their lives: they don't give their children a Jewish education, they don't perform circumcision as they consider it a primitive practice. For many Jews, even the mention of the word "Torah" can cause a shock of astronomical dimensions.

Parashat Ekev says: You shall teach them (these My words) to your children and discuss them while you sit in your home, while you walk on the way, when you retire (for the night) and when you arise." (Deuteronomy 11, 19).

RaSHI, in reference to this verse, teaches us: "KesheHa-tinok Matchil Ledaver, Aviv Mesiach Imo Be-Lashon Ha-Kodesh U-Melamdo Torah, Ve-Im Lo Asa Chen, Harei Hu Ke-ilu Kovro." ("When the infant begins to talk, his father should speak to him in the Holy Tongue, and should teach him the Torah. If he does not do this, it is as though he buries him (while still alive)".

RaSHI teaches us through these harsh words that the Jewish education of a child must begin at the earliest age. Otherwise, the Jewish identity of our children will run the serious risk of being buried.

There is an old anecdote about a young couple who once visited the renowned Chafetz Chayim seeking his wise advice.

She was in the eighth month of pregnancy and wanted to know how they should act with their future son in order to root him in the Torah.

The Chafetz Chayim looked at them and said warmly: "I hope I will be able to help you, but let me tell you that you came to me eight months late…".

Va-Etchanan

2009-07-28T16:12:00.000+03:00

Auditive balance
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Our weekly Torah section contains one of the fundamental pillars of the Jewish faith: the "Shema Israel".

For that reason, I would like to talk about the centrality of the sense of hearing in the Jewish tradition.

Our People are overwhelmed with visual and auditive reminders. We can mention the tefillin, the mezuzah, the tzitzit, and the Chanukah candles among the visual reminders and the Shofar is an outstanding example among the auditive ones. These reminders work in the same way that a compass works in the open sea. They point to us the way to follow and they make us remember who we are and towards where we go.

However, our people always believed more in its ears than in its eyes. When a people hear, he can transmit, and when the ear fails, the Jewish People are in danger.

A very graphical example appears in the book of Be-Midbar. In Parashat Be-Haalotcha it is told about the signals that our people had during its march in the desert. A cloud marked the exact site in which the People of Israel had to encamp and two trumpets of silver helped to congregate to the People at the time of their departure. (see Numbers 9:15 - 10:10).

Rabbi W. Gunther Plaut comments this passage:

"The cloud was a visual, the trumpets an auditive reminder of G-d's presence. Somehow, Jewish instinct never quite trusted the witness of the eyes. Moses performed signs, but these could be duplicated – what he said could not. At Sinai the emphasis was not so much on what the people saw but, more importantly, on what they heard. The true key word of Judaism is not "Reeh" (See) but "Shema" (Hear). The cloud is gone, the sound of the Shofar remains".

The Rabbi says that if the Jewish People loses its capacity of hearing not just becomes deaf…but also becomes blind! In that instant the people lose the compass. It is not accidental that the center of the human balance is close to the ears. The Hebrew language, with its well-known wisdom, teaches us that the word "Izun" ("Balance") contains the same linguistic root of the word "Ozen" ("Ear").

The balance and the future of the People of Israel resides in maintaining the millenarian capacity to exercise the "Shema", to hear, to transmit and to teach to those who follow us in the chain of life.

Devarim

2009-07-20T09:12:00.000+03:00

The longest lamentation

Parashat Devarim is always read the Shabbat before Tishá BeAv, the anniversary -among other things- of the destruction of both Temples of Jerusalem.

The weekly portion begins taking about the meraglim, the spies who visited the Promised Land and that frightened to the people of Israel at their returning, sinking Israel in the hopelessness and the lamentation.

That night, according to the Talmud, was Tisha B'Av. G-d, looking at the people crying, condemned them to travel for forty years in the desert, and decreed that the generation won't enter the Promised Land. "You cry without reason!", said G-d. "I will establish a crying for the generations!" (Ta'anit 29a).

According to the Talmudic tradition, the Temples of Jerusalem, not only were destroyed by the invaders, but also the people motivated the destruction with their own conducts. Jerusalem not only was destroyed by the will of others, but also by own errors. The paganism, the bloodshed and the illicit sexual relations caused the destruction of the First Temple, whereas the Second was destroyed by the baseless hatred and the excessive love to the money (Ierushalmi Iomá).

Four thousand years after that critical night in which we cried that vain weeping to the return of the twelve meraglim, we are still alive. Many times we have been knocked down; many others we returned to life.

Perhaps in our days, when we are the page of the history that will be studied in one hundred years, we can learn this lesson of G-d and of our history. We should understand that the destruction of Jerusalem was triggered by a number of sins that are still present in our lives. Even today, there is baseless hatred between brothers and many enemies from outside and from inside can ignite -Jas V'Shalom!- the flames of a new destruction.

We must understand in these crucial times we are living, that we cannot be indifferent with this situation…because the indifference is criminal. Also for that indifference Jerusalem was destroyed. And mainly, we must understand that there is no future for our people if we do not exercise Ahavat Israel (the authentic love to Israel). For that reason we have been wondering for two thousand years in the uttermost parts of the world.

Matot-Masei

2009-07-13T17:50:00.000+03:00

Aaron's Peace

Aaron the priest ascended Mount Hor at the command of G-d and died there (Numbers 33:38)

This week we will read about the death of Aaron.

Aaron is a strange personality within the Torah. Many times, he seems to have an inexplainable passivity. We would have expected for a different attitude in the episode of the golden calf or a greater commitment in circumstances where the leadership of Moses was in doubt.

However, the people of Israel felt Aaron's death much than Moses' death. Aaron was loved by Israel because he was much more than Moses's brother: he was the brother of Israel. As it is suggested in Pirkei Avot (1, 13): "Be of the disciples of Aaron, loving peace and pursuing peace, loving your fellow creatures and bringing them close to the Torah.".

Nobody can sympathize with such passivity. Passivity exasperates many people and indifference makes them angry as well. But Aaron was not passive. He was a consensus seeker and was the only one in that generation who could live in peace during forty years in the desert.

When the people fought with the phantoms of the past and with the fears of the future, Aaron not only could live peacefully but also knew how to pursue the peace for others.

There once was a king who offered a prize to the artist who would paint the best picture of peace.

Many artists tried. The king looked at all the pictures, but there were only two he really liked and he had to choose between them.

One picture was of a calm lake. The lake was a perfect mirror for peaceful towering mountains were all around it. Overhead was a blue sky with fluffy white clouds. All who saw this picture thought that it was a perfect picture of peace.

The other picture had mountains too. But these were rugged and bare. Above was an angry sky from which rain fell, in which lightening played. Down the side of the mountain tumbled a foaming waterfall. This did not look peaceful at all. But when the king looked, he saw behind the waterfall a tiny bush growing in a crack in the rock. In the bush a mother bird had built her nest. There, in the midst of the rush of angry water, sat the mother bird on her nest in perfect peace.

The king chose the second picture. He said: "Peace does not mean to be in a place where there is no noise, trouble, or hard work. Peace means to be in the midst of all those things and still be calm in your heart. That is the real meaning of peace."

That was the meaning of Aaron's peace.

Balak

2009-07-01T12:15:00.000+03:00

The Blessing of an Enemy

Rabbi Gustavo Surazski

"How goodly are thy tents o' Ya'acov, thy tabernacles o' Israel" (Numbers 24:5).
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This well known verse that appears at the beginning of the prayer book is the verse said by Bilam the wicked, the enemy of Israel.

If this is the case, why have Bilam's words received such a prominent place in the siddur?

There is the famous joke about the Jew who read an anti-Semitic newspaper every morning.

Once his friend Shmulik met him and asked him: "Tell me Yankel…aren't there enough jewish newspapers that you are reading an anti-Semitic one?

He said to Shmulik , "Look…I read in the Jewish newspaper about the number of Israelis living under the poverty line, about how we dare not move a finger without the authorization of the United States and about the fact that soon there will be more Arabs than Jews living in the State of Israel. Then I open an anti-Semitic newspaper and I read that there are tens of millions of Jews in the world, that we dictate the policy in Iraq to the United States and that all Jews are millionaires…you tell me: Which newspaper would you rather read??"
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There is a large gap between the image that a person or a people have of himself and the image of a person or a people in the eyes of the world.

I do not know how many Jews would be willing to say "How goodly are thy tents o' Ya'acov, thy tabernacles o' Israel".

If this is so, then why Bilam's words received such a special place in the siddur?

Rabbi Acha said in the name of Rabbi Haninah: It would have been more worthy to put the reproaches in the mouth of Bilam and the blessings in the mouth of Moshe. But if Bilam had reproached them, then Israel would say, it is our enemy who reproves us, and if Moshe had blessed them, then the world would say one who loves them has blessed them. The Holy One said: Moshe who loves them will reproach them and Bilam who hates them will bless them, thus Israel will demonstrate the validity of the blessings and the reproaches.

There is no value to the reproach of an enemy. Of course that there is a very important value to the blessing of one who loves us (A parent's or a Rabbi's blessing, by example), but the very fact that it is the enemy who gives the blessing, grants the blessing legitimacy.

Everyone knows that in the natural course of events, enemies tend to curse and friends are wont to bless. But when an expression of benevolence is uttered by an enemy, it has a completely different meaning.

The blessing of an enemy is a true blessing.
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Previous Drashot
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Balak 5766 - Opposite Ends

Chukat

2009-06-22T11:08:00.000+03:00

The Captive Flock

Rabbi Gustavo Suraski

There is a famous israeli joke about an El Al plane that landed at Ben Gurion during the winter. As the plane landed, the captain's voice came over the loudspeaker as usual saying, "Ladies and gentlemen welcome to Tel Aviv. Please remain in your places with your seat belts fastened until the plane comes to a complete halt at the terminal." And a few seconds later he added: "El Al wishes a Happy Chanukah to those standing in the aisle...and a Merry Christmas to those who are still in their places".

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It's well known that we are a people who lack patience. We are far from perfect. We not only want to be first getting off the plane, but we also want to be first to get on the bus, first on line at the supermarket and first to make the left turn when the light turns green. From time of the generation that left Egypt, we are a people lacking patience. A similar thing happened to them. When they were there, they wanted to leave. When they left, they wanted to return.

Perhaps the very night we hurriedly packed our suitcases and left Egypt before the dough had a chance to rise left its mark on our collective memory. It appears that since that night we have the basic feeling that we must hurry, that there isn't enough time...and as we all know, sometimes we pay a heavy price for our impatience.

Tens of explanations have been given about Moshe's sin of hitting the rock in Parashat Chukat. There are those who say that Moshe hit the rock twice instead of once. There are those who say that Moshe lost his balance and hit the rock instead of speaking to it. There are all kinds of explanations accusing Moshe of being unable to control his passions and losing his patience when he should have been setting a personal example for the people.

I don't like these explanations. How is it possible to understand the severity of the punishment that Moshe received after this sin? Did G-d really notify Moshe that his mission had ended just because Moshe had lost his patience? Why did G-d decree that Moshe could not bring his people to the Promised Land?

There is a midrash in Midrash Tanhuma that supplies an answer to the question and throws light upon the events of the sin at the "Waters of Contention" (Mei Merivah).

When Moshe begged to enter the Land, the midrash brings G-d's answer. G-d said to Moshe: On what grounds do you want to come into the Land? Like the parable of the shepherd who tended the flocks of the king and the sheep were captured. The shepherd requested entrance to the main hall of the king and the king said, "People will say that you are responsible for the sheep's capture. At this point G-d said to Moshe: "Your greatness is that you have taken the 600,000 out of bondage. But you have buried them in the desert and will bring into the land a different generation! This being so, people will think that the generation of the desert have no share in the World to Come! No, better be beside them, and you shall in the time to come enter with them" (Tanhuma, Chukat).

Professor Y. Leibowitz of blessed memory, analyzes this midrash brilliantly and adds a parable of his own about the fate of a captain whose ship sinks at sea. In the maritime world, says Leibowitz, it is customary that when a ship sinks at sea, even if the catastrophe was caused by external forces over which the captain had no control, he cannot leave the ship until the last of the passengers is saved, and if not he must go down with the ship. Professor Leinbowitz adds, "Moshe Rabennu did not succeed in his mission because of flaws in himself or in his leadership, the flaw lay in that "crooked and perverse generation" (Dueteronomy 32:5). This whole generation was condemned to die in the wilderness, but their leader also lost his right to lead and his verdict was the identical with that of his charges...the fate of a leader cannot be separated from the fate of his charges...and the failures of the generation denies the right of leadership from their leader".

It is really irrelevant to try to clarify who was guilty in the episode of Mei Merivah. The nature of the sin is also unimportant. The important thing here is that the fate of the leader and the fate of the led are identical and it is impossible to separate them, for good or for bad. It is impossible to cut a leader off from his people in the same way that a shepherd cannot be detached from his flock or the captain from his ship. They either go together hand in hand, or else they go nowhere. One has no existence without the other.

Shelach Lecha

2009-06-07T12:06:00.000+03:00

Don't let titles mislead you
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by Rabbi Gustavo Surazski

We all know, more or less, the story of the spies. Twelve men were sent to spy out the land of Canaan at their request, and angered G-d by presenting a negative report upon their return.

Parashat Shelach Lecha, which we read this week, starts by listing the names of the twelve spies, but today we really know only two of these well: Caleb ben Jephunneh and Joshua bin Nun.

All of them were famous "princes", but only Caleb and Joshua left their mark on the history of the people of Israel, while the remaining ten mean very little to us today…

Why doesn't the Torah list Caleb and Joshua at the beginning of the list, instead of Shammua ben Zaccur and Shaphat ben Hori? Perhaps because the Torah does not wish to reveal, not even to hint at, the end of the story, in which only Caleb and Joshua expressed optimism as to the chances of the Children of Israel's conquering the Land.

But I personally don't think that this is the main reason.
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The RaMbaN brings us a more interesting interpretation of this question. In the first place, I would have expected the Torah to list them in the order of the history of the tribes, in other words, in order of the birth of Jacob's sons (Reuven, Simeon, Judah etc.), but this is not the case. So what criterion was used in the list of spies?

The RaMbaN tells us that the tribes are listed in the order of the personal greatness of the spies.
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The RaMbaN is telling us that the criterion in the Torah here is the greatness of the twelve spies before the mission. This means that Shammua ben Zaccur, whom nobody remembers today, was in those days the most respected of all. And Shaphat ben Hori, was more respected than Joshua ben Nun, according to the RaMbaN!

This teaches us that, in the field of leadership, fame is never eternal. A person with a good name must fight hard to keep it (Let's not forget that Esau became Edom in only an instant, the time it took to sell his birthright, whereas Jacob fought hard to become Israel.)

The story of the spies proves once again that in the field of "good names" the hardest test always lies ahead of us.

Previous Drashot

Shelach Lecha 5766 – The Caleb Bridge

Behaalotcha

2009-05-31T08:41:00.000+03:00

The most important Festival

by Rabbi Gustavo Surazski

After three months of dealing with technical and ritual aspects of Halacha, the Torah returns in this week's portion to the more legendary style of Genesis and the beginning of Exodus. The portion of "Behaalotcha" includes the stories of the manna, Eldad and Medad, and the famous story of the Cushite woman that Moses had married.

My intention, however, is to return to an aspect of worship. Our portion raises the issue of the Pesach Sheni (The Second Passover). A group of Jews went to Moses and Aharon and asked them for a second opportunity to offer the Passover lamb. They knew that it was forbidden to prepare the offering while impure, and asked for permission to do so after they had been purified.

And they said to Moses and Aharon:

“Impure though we are by reason of a corpse, why must we be debarred from presenting the Lord’s offering at its set time with the rest of the Israelites? (Numbers 9, 7).

There are virtually no examples or precedents in Halacha for anything like this. (Perhaps one could compare this to the “Tefillat Tashlumim” as regards the rules of prayer). But this case is completely different. The second opportunity they wanted was not provided for with the Giving of the Law. There was only one Passover! This second chance was later granted simply because a group of Jews came and asked "why must we be debarred?". They demanded another opportunity to offer this festival sacrifice!

Today, nothing very special is done on this date. We know not to say Tachanun on this date. There is also a popular custom among Hasidic communities to eat Matzah on the Pesach Sheni. But that is about all…

We do not have any other positive Mitzvah in the Torah which was initiated by the people and not by G-d. Even though they were absolved from performing the Mitzvah, they demanded a second opportunity, another chance. On this occasion, at least, the children of Israel reached a very high level of piety and devoutness.

Many things can be said about this desert generation. They were ingrates. They had a short memory. But here, on the issue of the second Passover, they proved that they were also virtuous. "Why must we be debarred?" they asked, "Why should we forfeit observing a Mitzvah?".

Perhaps this is why the second Passover, a festival which has virtually disappeared from the Jewish calendar, is actually the most important one of the entire year. It was established by both the initiative and the will of the children of Israel.

Bemidbar

2009-05-17T09:59:00.000+03:00

No Ownership

Rabbi Gustavo Surazski

Almost every year we read the Torah portion Bemidbar ("In the desert") during the week of Shavuot, the festival of the giving of the Torah at Mount Sinai. The association is immediate: the Torah was given in the desert.

We may ask why G-d chose the desolate desert as the place to give the Torah. Why did He not wait and give the Torah in the land of Israel?

When G-d gives something unique and so sublime, something not presented since the days of the creation, we would expect a more impressive "setting". But the desert? What did G-d see there?

Our Sages answer this question in the Yalkut Shimoni:

Why was the Torah given in the desert?

So that there would be no controversy among the tribes, with one claiming "The Torah was given in my land" and another claiming "The Torah was given in mine."

Thus the Torah was given in the desert in public in no man's land. (Yalkut Shimoni, Parashat Yitro)

King David had a similar consideration when he chose Jerusalem as the capital of his kingdom. He chose a neutral city that was not located on land belonging to any of the tribes so that no tribe would claim that Jerusalem was on his portion. The midrash goes further and says that was the reason for the murder of Abel. It asks what Cain and Abel were arguing about moments before the murder and answers "Each one said the Temple would be built on his land." (Yalkut Shimoni, Parashat Bereshit)

When the sages say "The Torah has seventy facets" they are not concerned with geometrical definition. They wish to state that no one should ever say "The Torah is mine." God forbid that anyone should turn the Torah and its interpretation into his personal possession.

I usually explain this idea through the famous fable of the elephant and the blind. This old story tells of six blind people from India who, despite their disability, decided to travel around the world and try to learn about it.

One day when they had the opportunity, they decided to "see" the large creature called an elephant. When they reached the elephant, each one had a different vantage point.

The first blind man stood to the side of the elephant, felt its rough and thick skin, and determined without hesitation: "This elephant is like a wall."

When the second blind man approached, he felt the sharp tusk of the elephant. "Round…. Smooth and sharp." The blind man examined it again and said confidently: "The elephant is a creature similar to a sharp spear."

When the third blind man approached the animal, he found the elephant's trunk After feeling it for some time, he declared "The elephant is a kind of pipe."

The fourth blind man felt the elephant's leg from all sides and said: "The elephant is a kind of tree."

When the fifth blind man touched the elephant, he felt its large ear and stated confidently: "The elephant is like a fan."

The sixth blind man walked around the elephant and found its tail. When he had held it and felt it, he declared: "The elephant is like a rope."

Who was right? Who told the truth? No one, and yet – all of them together.

The Torah is "Truth" because the seal of the Almighty is "truth" (Emet), but the same truth is not to be found in the words of a commentator, rabbi or any posek Halachah, but rather in the sum of opinions of the sages of Israel in all generations.

It is not by chance that the midrash compares the Torah to the desert, to fire and to water. Just as those have no owners, so does the Torah have no owners. Also, the truth has no owners.

Previous Drashot

Bemidbar 5766 – Not just Statistics

Behar - Bechukotai

2009-05-10T22:28:00.000+03:00

A true blessing

Rabbi Gustavo Surazski

Parashat Bechukotai presents the famous admonition (tochacha), which describes the terrible calamities that will hit the children of Israel if they do not follow God's way. The admonition is harsh and suggests exile and the darkest days in the history of the people of Israel.

In the middle of that admonition there is a verse, which may be the syntheses of the spirit of the future curses that will affect the people of Israel. In Leviticus 26, 32 is written: "And I will bring the land into desolation; and your enemies that dwell therein shall be astonished at it".

No doubt that this is a hard and bitter prophesy. ChaZaL say that during the Beit Ha-Mikdash era, the land of Israel was a land of milk and honey, contrary to the nature of the land. (Ketuvot 112a). There were no worries and no problems in making a living. A barren land is a real nightmare!

However, if we look at RaSHI's commentary to the Torah we can see that he reads this verse in a different way. RaSHI says that it is a good thing that Israel's enemies won't find pleasure in their land that will be empty of its inhabitants. Also the RaMbaN says that this curse is a blessing ("good news" according in his terms)

How is it possible that someone will understand the bitter news as a "good thing" or as "good news"?

Rabbi Yissachar Frand refers to this question and says that if the land wasn't barren we could never get it back.

I have heard quite a few Jews here in Israel asking cynically "Why was Cnaan promised to our forefathers and not Canada?" or "Why was the Red Sea parted and not the Atlantic Ocean, that way we would have reached America?". Others, more serious ask, "Why are we the only state in the Middle East without oil? We barely have water?"

And I answer those people: Thank G-d we don't have oil. Thank G-d the Red Sea was opened and not the Atlantic. Thank God that the Promised Land was Canaan and not Canada...

If we had oil or if we were in Canada instead of Canaan we would never have returned. No one would have given up the land the way it was given up...

Each nation that ruled Eretz Israel during the exile, referred to it as the back yard of its empire. However, we dreamt about it even during the day as for us (even during the exile) the land of Israel was the centre of the universe. It was barren because each nation that ruled it turned its back on it. We know it was barren because it was expecting us.

The Torah and its interpreters say that from the day the exile starts, the land will not accept any nation. 'The enemies won't find pleasure in the land', says RaSHI.

The RaMbaN is right, RaSHI is right: it is a true blessing.

Emor

2009-05-03T12:35:00.000+03:00

The Omer Ladder

Rabbi Gustavo Surazski

Forty-nine days pass between the exodus of the Children of Israel from Egypt and the revelation of Sinai and receiving of the Torah. This seven-week journey, entitled “The Counting of the Omer", is mentioned in our portion, Emor.

At this time of year the people of Israel undergo a process of preparation for the giving of the Torah, a process of breaking away from the Egyptian defilement and entering a life of purity. According to our sages, the people of Israel in Egypt had sunken into a process of spiritual degeneration.

With each passing day the nation of Israel frees itself of another layer of impurity, forty-nine in total, and instead of being deep in sin we ascend to the gates of holiness.

But within this bridge between Passover and Shavuot there is something else which is deep and thought-provoking even in the present-day reality. Passover is a festival of freedom and physical redemption. But there is no finality to this redemption, it is rather a step towards the spiritual rejuvenation realized at Mount Sinai. Just as the bridegroom counts the days until he may unite with his bride, the nation of Israel counts the days which separate between physical redemption of the nation and spiritual redemption.

During this past festive week, between barbeques and hot coals, I have given a lot of thought to this same point. For there is, in fact, a parallel situation with our Independence Day (Yom Ha-Atzmaut). Independence is obviously a positive thing. But, as a society, do we have a spiritual agenda? As a state, are we really a "light unto the nations"? Is independence part of a greater process, or do we already see it as the end?

Rabbi Moshe Garelik refers, in his book "Parashah U-Fishra", to that bridge known as "the Counting of the Omer", which connects the freedom of the body with that of the soul:

"The sons of the desert generation, through this counting, reduced the festival of Passover from its independent standing and transformed it into the forerunner of the festival of Shavuot. This is how the bridge and the connection between these two festivals came into being. The counting unified them and taught them not to separate national material redemption from spiritual redemption. The former does not exist without the latter.

The actual existence of the nation's redemption is in danger if it sees itself as the final purpose and as the most important thing of all. Many revolutions have weakened because of the fatigue of their heroes, who believed that they had reached the end of the road and that there was nothing further to which to aspire. The stability of many countries which had finally achieved independence was destroyed because all that remained were relentless power struggles between the liberators.

The counting of the Omer says "NO" to what has been achieved. It sees the exodus from Egypt as a stage, an important and valuable stage, but not to be exchanged for the process itself, the ladder for spiritual ascent and human perfection presented in the Torah of the Festival of Shavuot.

May we, too, be empowered to bridge this gap and ascend the ladder step by step towards the spiritual vision which would complete us as a society.

Kedoshim

2009-04-26T08:45:00.000+03:00

Windows to the Soul

Rabbi Gustavo Surazski

The commandment to observe the Sabbath appears in the first verses of the Parasha: "You shall fear every man his mother and his father and keep my Sabbaths." (Leviticus 19:3).

The observance of Shabat is much more than a religious imperative, it is a spiritual need.

A few weeks ago, a member of the congregation who has started coming regularly to Shabat services told me how crucial it is for her to finish the week and enter the atmosphere of Shabat with us, with the congregation (even though she defines herself as "secular").

And she is right.

The concept of Shabat is so crucial to Jewish tradition that we remember it every day even though we may not be aware of it. In the ancient world the days were named after the stars. This appears in several modern languages.

Sunday is named after the sun, Monday after the moon and Saturday after Saturn. (In Spanish Wednesday, Miercoles, is named after Mercury).

But in Hebrew the situation is completely different. We have "Yom Rishon" (the first day after Shabat), "Yom Sheni" (the second day after Shabat), "Yom Shlishi" (the third day after Shabat) etc. In effect, each day we note how many days have passed since the previous Shabat and how many days are left until the next Shabat.

Why is Shabat so essential, even to those who describe themselves as "secular"?

In this day and age, people are more concerned with the health of the body than with the health of the spirit. The truth of the matter is that after all the tensions of the week we reach Shabat in a state of "spiritual pollution".
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But how does the soul become polluted? It is easy to understand and discuss pollution in the Kishon River or air pollution, but …the soul? How?

This is my opinion. Our body has seven "windows". It is through these "windows" that the soul breathes, lives and relates to the world. These windows are all located in our heads. There is the window of the mouth. Two windows in the nose, two in the eyes and two in the ears. The "pollution" of the week enters through these windows in the same way that sand enters through the windows of the house during a sandstorm.

When we make "Havdalah" at the end of Shabat, we dedicate a blessing to each of these" windows". First to the mouth when we bless the wine. Secondly, we bless and smell the spices dedicating a blessing to the nose. Then comes the for the candle dedicated to the eyes and finally we hear the blessing of "Havdalah" which is dedicated to our ears. These blessings are in effect a gift and a shield for these very same senses just at the moment when a new week is beginning and pollution again finds its way into the depth of the soul.

In another week Shabat will arrive. I regret to say that I do not think that the coming week will be free of tensions and pressures. I do not think that the news we hear every evening will be particularly good…

But at least Shabat will arrive again, this gift of twenty five hours that erase a large amount of the pollution in our souls and improve our spiritual state. As is written in the Hagaddah of Passover, "If he had given us only the Shabat, it would have been sufficient.".

Parashat Tzav - Shabat Ha-Gadol

2009-03-29T11:31:00.000+03:00

From Generation to Generation

By Rabbi Gustavo Surazski

Biologically speaking, it has been proved that we are different people from what we were seven years ago. All our cells (except for neurons and ova, in the case of women) renew themselves completely every seven years, which proves that our bodies today are not the same as they were when we were born, and not what they were seven years ago.

But not only biologically are we different from what we were in the past. We might work in a different place. Our friends are not necessarily the same friends as we had before (perhaps not even our spouses). The family grows up and widens, or at times contracts. Children are born; others, to our sorrow, die.

So how is it possible that we change so much and yet feel that we are the same persons?

It seems to me that the answer is connected to memory. Memory is the cord linking all the stages in the history of a person.

Even if we are biologically different from what we were seven years ago, memory
links the "I" of seven years ago with the "I" of today and makes them one person.

And what if we talk of a nation?

There is an incident regarding the late Professor Shaul Lieberman, a great researcher of the Talmud and literature of the Oral Law, who was visited in his office by a journalist of the New York Times. Prof. Lieberman was preoccupied with his studies and the journalist wandered around his room. There were books everywhere, even on chairs and on the floor.

Suddenly, the journalist approached Lieberman with a book in his hand.
"What is this?" he asked.
"This is the Torah that Moshe received at Mount Sinai."
"And this?" asked the journalist, holding another book.
"This is the Mishna which is an elaboration of the text of the Torah with the emphasis on halacha," answered Lieberman.
"And what about this book?" asked the journalist about a third book.
"This is the Talmud which is commentaries on the Mishna."
The journalist pointed to a fourth book which was Rashi's commentaries on the Talmud, and a fifh which was an analysis of Rashi's commentaries.

The journalist, who didn't know much about Judaism, turned to Professor Lieberman and said, "From your answers, I get the impression that Judaism is a conversation among the generations."

Professor Lieberman answered him, " I have never heard a more concise and accurate definition."
Judaism is a conversation between generations and the collective memory is the link that connects them.

The Passover Haggadah, for example. Every generation, even if its customs and leaders are different, is connected to a common past. The stories, the customs and the enthusiasm that I heard from my father and will pass on to my children – those are the things that make different generations into one people.

A few days ago I shed a tear when I heard my daughter sing "Ma nishtana" (the four questions) for the first time. But at the same time I felt a heavy weight of responsibility towards her. She is the next generation and will receive my heritage.
Will I succeed in giving it to her the way I received it? Will she succeed in preserving it the way I have done? How much depends on me and how much will it depend on her?

The Chafetz Chayim used to tell of an incident that he experienced.

In the town of Radin, where he was born, they used to heat the water in the mikveh by pouring in a boiler of boiling water. One day he asked the bath attendant if he had heated the water of the mikveh. The man answered that he had. The Chafetz Chayim entered the water of the mikveh and found it ice-cold.

He went to the boiler, put his hand into the water and found it lukewarm. Then he said, "Today I have learned something important. When the boiler is boiling, the mikveh is lukewarm. But when the water in the boiler is lukewarm, the water of the mikveh is freezing."

Rabeinu Tam used to say: "Words that come from the heart will go into the heart. Words that did not come from the heart but only from the mouth will get no further than the ear."

May we be able to pass the flame to the next generation, to our children and grandchildren, so that our story will go straight to the heart.
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Yitro

2009-02-08T11:46:00.000+02:00

Selective Holiness

Rabbi Gustavo Surazski

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Just last week, we stood up for the reading of Shirat HaYam (The Song of the Sea). This week, Shabbat "Yitro", we will stand for the reading of the Ten Commandments.

Every year, I have mixed emotions regarding standing throughout the reading of the Ten Commandments, Shirat HaYam and other portions of the Torah. On one hand I feel it is the right thing to do, because these are the most central chapters of the Torah. But on the other hand I ask myself if it is in our hands to rank the holiness of certain paragraphs and say which ones are holier than others.

A question in regard to standing while reading the Ten Commandments was turned to the RaMbaM, and he forbade that custom in order to indicate that there is no difference in the holiness level of the Ten Commandments versus the rest of the readings.

Following the RaMbaM, other Rabbis also thought it's not a proper custom to stand during the reading of the Ten Commandments. If every paragraph originates from the heavens above, and they behold the same holy regard, then there is no reason to stand through parts and sit through others.

A Sefer Torah is considered pasul (flawed) and unusable if it is missing just a single letter. The letter Vav from the word "VaYomer", for example, or the letter Alef from the word "Anochi" at the very beginning of the Ten Commandments.

But also there are Midrashim that hint that not all letters are of the same importance. Even though from a theological point all the letters have the same holiness, beside the theological arguments there are other points of view.

For example, the Midrash says, that for twenty-six generations the letter Alef complained to G-d, saying: "Sovereign of the Universe! You made me the first letter, and yet created the world with a Bet, (i.e., Bet is the first letter used in the Creation narrative) as it says, "Bereishit (in the beginning) God created the heavens and the earth." God answered: "The world and the fullness thereof were created only in the merit of the Torah...Tomorrow I will reveal Myself and give the Torah to Israel; then I will place you at the head (of the Ten Commandments), commencing them with you; as it says, "Anochi (i.e. the word Anochi begins with the letter Alef): I am Hashem, your G-d" (Shemot 20:2). (Bereshit Rabba 1, 10).

According to this midrash the Alef only calmed down after she was told that she would be the opening letter of the Ten Commandments with the word "Anochi".

Therefore we can say that if the Torah in holy in its entirety then there is no need to sit or stand according to our judgment. Based on Theology this may be convincing and correct. But on the other hand, we do not build our customs and religious experiences on Theology (Rabbi Harold Kushner once said that the difference between theology and religion is like the difference between eating in a fancy restaurant and reading its menu...).

And although its true that many Theologians say there is no essential difference between the paragraph "VaYomer A-donai El Moshe Lemor" (And God said to Moshe saying) and "Shema Israel A-donai E-lohenu A-donai Echad" (Hear, O Israel: A-donai is our God, A-donai is the One and Only). But even if this is true, it is also a fact that for thousands of years Jews recited the "Shema Israel" while dying for the sake of "Kiddush HaShem" and nobody said "VaYomer A-donai El Moshe Lemor".

And that's also the difference between Theology and Religion.

Va-Yeshev

2008-12-18T10:50:00.000+02:00

A True Hero
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Rabbi Gustavo Surazski
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While Joseph was in prison, he had already started to pave his path to fame as a "Dream Interpreter". At the end of Parashat Va-Yeshev, the dreams of the chief cupbearer and the chief baker,are brought before him. These dreams were interpreted to free him from prison.

By the time Pharaoh King of Egypt starts dreaming in the beginning of Parashat Miketz there is already a well-known "Dream Interpreter" to assist. The chief cupbearer reminds Pharaoh of the hardships of his imprisonment and also mentions Joseph's name as one who knows how to interpret dreams. When he starts talking about Joseph he says: "And there was with us a young man, a Hebrew, servant to the captain of the guard" (Genesis, 41, 12).

We see that the fact that Joseph was a Hebrew, and originally from the land of Israel, are very strong features in the eyes of the chief cupbearer. The confinement of a young Hebrew boy in an Egyptian prison is obviously very traumatic, but we can understand from the chief cupbearer's description of Joseph that he never hid nor asked to hide his Jewish identity. Quite the opposite, the chief cupbearer knew exactly who the young boy was.

I often hear people say that it is hard for them to maintain the tradition. The excuses are many: "It is hard for me to get to Synagogue for prayer on Shabat as it is the only day of rest I have" (Israelis works on Sundays). "It's hard to find the time to study Torah as I come home late and tired after work". While listening to these excuses, Joseph comes to mind, if he managed to hold on to his identity and tradition while imprisoned in Egypt, why can't we?

Thousands of years after Joseph, during the Holocaust, at the time when their fate was unknown, many Jews turned to their Rabbis with questions. Many of these questions are recorded in the Responsa "Sridei Esh" ("Residue from Fire") by Rabbi Yechiel Jacob Weinberg Z"L. The Jews wanted to know if Jewish homes in the Ghetto needed a Mezuzah. They were not sure if their homes were considered permanent dwellings. Others wanted to know if cooking was allowed on the Sabbath, if by doing so he was exempted from harsh physical labor out on the fields. They had even asked if a survivor of a German "selection" had to say "Birkat Ha-Gomel" (Thanksgiving Blessing)? And, if there is a correct blessing for the sanctification of the name of G-D? And there are many more...

Any man that turns to his Rabbi at a time of such emotional turmoil, and asks questions regarding the Torah's regard to his fate, is definitely a hero. Nowadays when a person says that it is hard to hold onto the tradition in our "Hectic" times full of errands and pressure I say: "For Joseph and the Jews of the Holocaust it was hard! And they did it, with both "Guts and Glory"".

This may also be our Chanukah message. In the times of the Hashmonaim, it took great bravery to hold on to and practice Judaism. Many Jews became Greek and left our fathers religion. More than just the miracle, the Hanukah candlelight reminds us of darker days, harder days full of fear and worry. And the light always prevails; the holy fire still burns in the heart of the nation.

It burned in Joseph's heart,
As it burned in the hearts of all our brothers in the Holocaust,
And in the hearts of the Hashmonaim.
That is true Heroism.

Noah

2008-10-31T09:03:00.003+02:00

To think about wine

by Rabbi Gustavo Surazski

Every year, while reading the first verses of Parashat Noah, I ask myself the same question: Why isn’t Noah the father of the Jewish people? "Noah was a righteous man, faultless in his generation. Noah walked with G-d" (Genesis 6:9). What more is required?

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Commentators on the Torah suggest countless explanations to that same question. Most of them relate to Noah’s indifference to the destructive outcome of the flood. It’s written in the Zohar that when Noah exited the ark and saw that the world was in ruins, he began to weep and said to the Holy One:

“Lord of the Universe! You should have had mercy on your creation!”. The Holy One replied: “Now you say this? And not when I said to bring the flood?! Since you heard that you would be spared in the ark, the evil that would fall upon the world didn’t enter your heart!” (Midrash HaNeelam, Noah)

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However, this year I would like to add an additional reason for denying Noah the right to be named the founder of the nation. This reason relates to the beginning of Noah’s path after the flood.

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Immediately after exiting the ark, the Torah tells us: "Noah began to be a man of the soil, and he planted a vineyard" (Genesis 9:20). The Midrash (Bereshit Raba 36:3) explains the word “Vayachel” not in the sense of “beginning” (lehatchil) but from the root “profane” (chulin). ("Noah profaned himself and he became profane). Noah could have begun by planting a fig tree, or an olive tree or something else that provides reparation to the world.

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How would we have reacted had we been in Noah’s place? We see the world in ruins and we have to begin from scratch… How would we begin?

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Someone might begin by building a house, another by building a school. What did Noah think of? He thought of wine!

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We see that this wasn’t the situation with the forefathers of our nation. Of what did our forefathers think?

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They thought of finding wives for their sons, for example. They worried that their sons wouldn’t take wives from among the daughters of Canaan (Genesis 24:3, 28:8). They thought of what would follow, they thought of their families. When Iaacov went down to Egypt, the Torah relates that he sent his son Yehudah "ahead of him to make preparations in Goshen". (Genesis 46:28).

According to RaSHI, Yehudah was sent first in order to establish a house of study in Egypt from which would come teaching”. Iaacov thought of education in order that his sons wouldn’t arrive in Egypt without finding there a spiritual center that would meet their needs. Of what did Noah think? Of wine!

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A friend of mine told me many years ago that he once stayed at a hotel in the city of Las Vegas, Nevada. In the state of Nevada, as you know, gambling is legal and Las Vegas became the casino capital of the United States and of the entire world.

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My friend, who went there for the purpose of business and without any connection to the casinos, returned late to his room at the hotel in the city after a long day of work and wanted to open his window to breathe some fresh air. He pushed on the window and saw that it wouldn’t open. He immediately called down to the reception desk and asked for the reason behind it. The clerk answered that in the State of Nevada, and in Las Vegas in particular, people might jump out of the window after losing their money gambling, so it was hotel policy to lock all of the windows.

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That sounds odd. How is it possible that a person would place his fortune in a higher order of importance than his life? Don’t people realize that there is no comparison? Is it really true that people need to form such a policy in the hotel in order to save their lives? Yet this happens.

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Something similar happens, for example, when driving under the influence of alcohol. Everyone knows that it is dangerous. But the state threatens drunk drivers who are caught with fines of hundreds and even thousands of shekels. Everyone knows that the combination of alcohol and driving can be fatal. People know this, yet the State still takes it upon itself the responsibility because it knows that many people at the time of the act will be thinking of the alcohol and not of life… as did Noah.

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Choosing the correct order of priorities is one of the toughest battles an individual faces in his lifetime. It is the key to building the future of mankind, societies and countries.

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Rationally, the matter seems simple enough. The vast majority of mankind thinks “in present tense” and not in “future tense”. Noah established for himself a faulty order of priorities. He thought of wine and made the insignificant important, and the important insignificant. It is impossible to found a nation with eternal values upon such an order.

Other Drashot

Parashat Noah - Stone or Window?

Bereshit

2008-10-22T09:16:00.000+02:00

The Righteous Bird

by Rabbi Gustavo Surazski

A rather short and wonderful commentary tells us that everyone tasted from the Tree of Knowledge except a bird called Chol (Genesis Rabbah 19). According to our Sages, the same lone and righteous bird still lives in the Garden of Eden to this day. He lives alone in the Garden and no one knows him.

As our Sages see it, the Chol bird symbolizes the tension between public opinion and personal opinion. Would we be prepared to pay the price of social exclusion in exchange for choosing a moral and correct course of action? Isn't it really preferable to act according to the opinion of the widest majority, even if it is warped?

And we are not only speaking of corruption here. There are less meaningful social customs which we would prefer not to choose, and which social pressure causes us to choose anyway. Even the smallest and most irrelevant things such as clothing fashions.

And here is another example connected to Israeli reality: I am driving in a massive traffic jam on the road which is moving ten meters per minute, and I see one car, then a second and a third car overtaking me from the right hand side, along the edge of the road, which is forbidden, and nevertheless arriving home one and a half hours before me. And at the same moment I would like to be just like them, but I know that it would be wrong…

This is the tension between personal and public opinion…and this is the point of the midrash about the Chol, the righteous bird.

I read about a very interesting experiment performed by an American university a few years ago. On one board was a drawing of ten equal parallel lines of equal length and ten volunteers stood opposite the board. They were asked to answer only one question: Are the ten lines identical? They all replied in the negative.

How is it possible that ten people would say "no" to something so obvious and openly visible? Wasn't it clear to everyone that those lines were equal?

The answer is simple. Out of the same ten volunteers, nine belonged to the university staff. Only the tenth was an outsider. The experiment was supposed to test the reaction of the tenth person, and his ability to express an opinion which contradicted that of the majority. He thought that it was an experiment of the Exact Sciences Faculty, but it was, in fact, of the Humanities Faculty..

In this same experiment, the Chol, that lone and righteous bird, would have contradicted the majority. And how about the rest of us?

According to the book of Genesis, two cherubim stand at the entrance of the Garden of Eden in order to guard the way to the Tree of Life. But…who knows? Perhaps they are also standing there to prevent that righteous bird from leaving.

Because public opinion is such a persuasive force, and the temptation is always so great…

Ki Tetze

2008-09-08T09:12:00.000+03:00

The ploys of the "Yetser"

by Rabbi Gustavo Surazski

Our Torah portion opens with the following verse: "When thou goest forth to war against thy enemies, and the Lord thy G-d delivereth them into thy hands, and thou takest captives of them" (Deuteronomy 21,10)

The verse, understood literally, talks about a war against an external enemy. But is this indeed so? Chazal has already hinted that we are talking here about a war of a different kind, a battle against evil inclinations ("yetzer hara").

Hassidism explains that the war against "yetzer hara" takes place mainly during Yom Kippur. On this day we overcome our evil inclinations as all material desires and needs are set aside and are strictly forbidden and we experience only spirituality.

In any event this is not a one-day battle, but a daily struggle that is difficult and painful because "yetser hara" uses ploys and ruses that are difficult to overcome. "Yetzer hara" entices man to sin and to avoid his responsibilities. These tricks and deceptions are "weapons" used by "yetser hara" to achieve its aims.

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What are these ploys?

There are many, but I would like to talk about one of them. I would describe it as "making excuses", a speciality of "yetzer hara".

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From time to time we justify our actions by convincing ourselves that, for example, we don't give more "Tzedakah" because we don't have enough money, or that we don't volunteer to help our community because we don't have enough time or that we are too tired when we come home. (This excuse is used by people of all ages. A child will also say that he didn't study enough because he didn't have enough time ….to which his mother would respond "You had enough time to play with your Playstation, didn't you?"!)

One way to fight "yetzer hara" is to ask yourself difficult questions. You didn't give "Tzedakah" because you didn't have enough money...but did you have money to pay for frivolous entertainment? Did you have enough money to upgrade your mobile phone for no particular reason?

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Perhaps you really did not have enough money…but you have to continuously ask yourself these difficult questions.

You did not volunteer for your community or for society in general because you didn't have enough time! Ask yourself: Did you have enough time to surf on the internet or to watch T.V even if there was nothing worth watching? To go shopping even though you didn't really need to buy anything?

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Perhaps you really did not have enough time …but ask yourself if that is really the case.

The same is true for tiredness. Ask yourself if it's just an excuse and another ploy of the "yetzer hara".

Perhaps we can try to understand the "making excuses" ploy using a very apt example also found in Parashat Ki Tetze. A few verses after our portion we find the very strong and permanent prohibition of "An Ammonite and a Moabite shall not enter into the congregation of the Lord". The Torah rules that even after the tenth generation, the Ammonite and the Moabite are not fit to be accepted into the nation of Israel.

Two reasons are offered as to to why they are to be rejected by the people: "For the reason, that they met you not with bread and with water on the way, when ye came forth out of Egypt; and because he hired against thee Bilam the son of Beor of Pethor of Aram-naharaim to curse thee." (Deuteronomy 23, 5).

Each of these reasons is serious in its own right. It is a terrible thing to meet starving and thirsty people without bringing them bread and water, and even worse to hire a sorcerer to curse them. Why is it necessary to give two reasons?

In a certain village the people started to build a synagogue but did not manage to complete the building. For a long time the building stood unplastered and unpainted. One day a famous Chazzan happened to pass through the village and they hired him to officiate on the High Holidays.

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Rabbi Aizel Charif heard what they had done and said "I have never understood why the Torah gives two reasons for rejecting the Ammonites and the Moabites. Only now have I understood. If the Moabites had not hired Bilam for a large sum of money, they could have apologized and said that they did not meet the people of Israel with food and water because they were poor and that they could barely support themselves. Since they had paid Bilam such a large sum of money they could not use poverty as an excuse." And he finished by saying : "He who has money for a Chazzan, has money for the completion of the synagogue."

If we want to, we can always find an excuse for anything. That is the "yetzer" way. We are champion excuse-makers. No time ,no money, too tired...whatever…

This is the battle that the portion recommends, a struggle that will ultimately make us stronger, more responsible and more mature.

Shoftim

2008-09-04T18:57:00.000+03:00

The Supreme Value of Life

by Rabbi Gustavo Surazski

The Torah portion Shoftim brings us, among other things, the section about the axed heifer (eglah arufah). Today, this portion seems anachronistic, lacking all practical meaning for us.

The portion speaks about an unsolved murder when it is impossible to punish the murderer, simply because no one knows who the murderer is.

The portion presents a situation that is fairly absurd. The Torah demands that a whole complicated ceremony take place in order to atone for the death of an anonymous person about whom nothing is known.

But there is another point that is no less interesting.

Not only does this portion seem anachronistic, but its very place in the Torah is also puzzling.

The section about the slain heifer is found between two sections that deal with war and begin with the words "When thou goest forth to war" (Deuteronomy 20:1, Deuteronomy 21;10)

What is the connection?

I read a brilliant answer to this question by Rabbi Ya'acov Ruderman. He says that there is no place more fitting for this portion than the place where it appears, between two wars.

He thinks that war – any war – where there are hundreds or even thousands dead, both soldiers and civilians, brings in its wake a meaningful decrease to the value of human life.

The place of the portion of the slain heifer proves that human life is a very holy thing, so much so that a whole city and its elders are required to take responsibility for murder that took place near their territory.

Our portion protests against the concept that "human life is cheap". There is no such thing in Jewish tradition; life is always of great value.

There is not in Judaism – almost – a more crucial command than that referred to as "Met Mitzvah".

"Met Mitzvah" refers to a dead person having no one formally obligated to bury him (her). The law is that anyone who encounters this corpse is obligated to perform the burial rite even at great expense to himself or even if it means canceling other important mitzvot.

For example, the High Priest, under normal conditions is forbidden to come into any contact with a corpse, including his family, closest relatives and even his parents. However, the High Priest is obligated to defile himself by carrying out the necessary rites of burial for a "Met Mitzvah" even on Yom Kippur!

In my opinion, this synthesis with respect to human life is found in a story that is told about former Prime Minister, Golda Meir of blessed memory.

In the days of the War of Attrition, Gold Meir said: "I gave an order to my advisors to inform me of the death of every Israeli soldier in battle, even if it happens in the middle of the night. On the day that President Nasser gives the same order to his advisors, there will be peace between us."

Perhaps this is the greatest gap that divides us and our bitter enemies. For us, human life is always a precious value.

Pinchas

2008-07-14T22:54:00.000+03:00

Acquired Rights
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by Rabbi Gustavo Surazski
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Parashat Pinchas mentions five women, daughters of a man called Tzlofchad, of the tribe of Efraim. The man had died, and since he had no sons, the women asked Moses to allot them a property in the Promised Land.
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The women knew that according to Jewish Law, the inheritance belongs only to sons – but what would happen to their father's estate? Should the law regard them as "second-class" persons?

Moses was undecided as to how to respond. But after consulting with G-d, he received an answer to the dilemma: These five women would inherit their father's estate and would have a property in Eretz Israel.

The Midrash (Bemidbar Rabbah 21, 10) describes this episode in a very interesting way: "Oto Ha-Dor Hayu Ha-Nashim Godrot Ma She-Ha-Anashim Portzim" (In that generation, the women amended what the men had ruined.) The men danced around the Golden Calf; and the women rushed to the side. The men defamed the Promised Land together with the spies; and the women maintained a respectful silence. The men wanted to choose a leader who would take them back to Egypt; and the women approached Moses and implored him to allocate them land in Eretz Israel!

Very few wanted that Land… they were the exception.

I have often thought about the similarity between the story of the daughters of Tzlofchad and our history as a nation.

For centuries nobody wanted our Land…except for us. Even those other nations that today call our land the "Holy Land", haven't dedicated a single poem, or part of their dreams, to it.

Whereas all of them saw only the desolation of the Land and rejected it, we always knew that the Land was desolate only because it was waiting for us. While others with their laziness and inertia merely accepted the contaminated marshes, we knew that one day we would be able to dry those marshes and Israel would again become a Land of milk and honey.

We were the ones who dreamed of Eretz Israel when all the others saw it as the back yard of the world. We dreamed about Israel for centuries, not because of her wealth, but in spite of her poverty. It is not only G-d's promise which gives us legitimacy as the inhabitants of this Land. We earned that legitimacy when we wished for the Land at a time when everybody despised it; when we cried for it while everybody else profaned it.

Just as it happened with the daughters of Tzlofchad.

Chukat

2008-06-30T11:40:00.000+03:00

The Captive Flock

Rabbi Gustavo Suraski

There is a famous israeli joke about an El Al plane that landed at Ben Gurion during the winter. As the plane landed, the captain's voice came over the loudspeaker as usual saying, "Ladies and gentlemen welcome to Tel Aviv. Please remain in your places with your seat belts fastened until the plane comes to a complete halt at the terminal." And a few seconds later he added: "El Al wishes a Happy Chanukah to those standing in the aisle...and a Merry Christmas to those who are still in their places".

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It's well known that we are a people who lack patience. We are far from perfect. We not only want to be first getting off the plane, but we also want to be first to get on the bus, first on line at the supermarket and first to make the left turn when the light turns green. From time of the generation that left Egypt, we are a people lacking patience. A similar thing happened to them. When they were there, they wanted to leave. When they left, they wanted to return.

Perhaps the very night we hurriedly packed our suitcases and left Egypt before the dough had a chance to rise left its mark on our collective memory. It appears that since that night we have the basic feeling that we must hurry, that there isn't enough time...and as we all know, sometimes we pay a heavy price for our impatience.

Tens of explanations have been given about Moshe's sin of hitting the rock in Parashat Chukat. There are those who say that Moshe hit the rock twice instead of once. There are those who say that Moshe lost his balance and hit the rock instead of speaking to it. There are all kinds of explanations accusing Moshe of being unable to control his passions and losing his patience when he should have been setting a personal example for the people.

However, how is it possible to understand the severity of the punishment that Moshe received after this sin? Did G-d really notify Moshe that his mission had ended just because Moshe had lost his patience? Why did G-d decree that Moshe could not bring his people to the Promised Land?

There is a midrash in Midrash Tanhuma that supplies an answer to the question and throws light upon the events of the sin at the "Waters of Contention" (Mei Merivah).

When Moshe begged to enter the Land, the midrash brings G-d's answer. G-d said to Moshe: On what grounds do you want to come into the Land? Like the parable of the shepherd who tended the flocks of the king and the sheep were captured. The shepherd requested entrance to the main hall of the king and the king said, "People will say that you are responsible for the sheep's capture. At this point G-d said to Moshe: "Your greatness is that you have taken the 600,000 out of bondage. But you have buried them in the desert and will bring into the land a different generation! This being so, people will think that the generation of the desert have no share in the World to Come! No, better be beside them, and you shall in the time to come enter with them" (Tanhuma, Chukat).

Professor Y. Leibowitz of blessed memory, analyzes this midrash brilliantly and adds a parable of his own about the fate of a captain whose ship sinks at sea. In the maritime world, says Leibowitz, it is customary that when a ship sinks at sea, even if the catastrophe was caused by external forces over which the captain had no control, he cannot leave the ship until the last of the passengers is saved, and if not he must go down with the ship. Professor Leinbowitz adds, "Moshe Rabennu did not succeed in his mission because of flaws in himself or in his leadership, the flaw lay in that "crooked and perverse generation" (Dueteronomy 32:5). This whole generation was condemned to die in the wilderness, but their leader also lost his right to lead and his verdict was the identical with that of his charges...the fate of a leader cannot be separated from the fate of his charges...and the failures of the generation denies the right of leadership from their leader".

It is really irrelevant to try to clarify who was guilty in the episode of Mei Merivah. The nature of the sin is also unimportant. The important thing here is that the fate of the leader and the fate of the led are identical and it is impossible to separate them, for good or for bad. It is impossible to cut a leader off from his people in the same way that a shepherd cannot be detached from his flock or the captain from his ship. They either go together hand in hand, or else they go nowhere. One has no existence without the other.

Korach

2008-06-23T12:24:00.000+03:00

The Story of Two Kings and One Crown

Rabbi Gustavo Surazski

Parashat Korach is one of my favourites. To me it seems to have a message very relevant to our day, which proves that "stinking manoeuvres" in politics are not an invention of the twentieth century.

The dispute of Korach and his gathering which is described in detail in our portion, is actually the ugly manoeuvre of a dangerous man. Korach leads a rebellion against the leadership of Moses and puts forward claims and arguments that are ostensibly "democratic" and "equitable".

However, in effect, Korach's aim is to lead the people of Israel into anarchy so that he can reap the benefit. A sentence like "all the congregation are holy, every one of them, and G-d is among them. Why then do you lift yourselves up above the congregation of the Lord?" can only be the product of a populistic approach.

Korach is actually a great demagogue who exploits the momentum of uncertainty among the people in order to rebel against Moses.

Just a week ago, it was decreed that that generation would wander for forty years in the desert. A whole generation would for forty years go nowhere. Korach knew that this was a suitable time to undermine the leadership of Moses.

But the main point of this story is that all Korach's arguments were based on a lie. Korach was convinced that Moses had to share the leadership with him.

Democracy is not only a matter of equality but also recognition of the authority of the ruler.

Let me suggest a comparison:

Anyone who has learned how to drive knows that a vehicle has a double system. The person behind the wheel can accelerate but also stop the car. However, even in such a complex system, one thing remains unique: the steering wheel! Only one person can decide whether to turn right or left. There cannot be two drivers of the same vehicle simultaneously.

There is an important rule in the Gemara (Rosh Hashana 27b) which states that two voices are not heard together. For that reason, two people are not allowed to read the Torah together. The person who goes up to read the Torah does not read together with the ba'al kri'a but reads alone at his own pace so that the congregation will not be confused by hearing two voices at the same time.

A leader can allow his people to participate in many matters. He can appoint advisers, judges and ministers, do everything except hand over the wheel.

That was Korach's mistake. Only one person can wear the crown.

Previous Drashot

Korach 5766 – Misguided Dreams

Naso

2008-06-02T13:13:00.000+03:00

To Be an Adjective

By Rabbi Gustavo Surazski

According to our Sages, Nachshon Ben Aminadav was the first to leap into the water at the time of the parting of the Red Sea, and according to that same Midrash, we refer to all those who jump first into a dangerous and important mission by the name “Nachshonim”, in memory of Nachshon Ben Aminadav.

Unintentionally, Nachshon Ben Aminadav changed his first name into an adjective… a rare and special accomplishment.

If we listen to a Socratic style philosopher, or to a psychologist with a Freudian approach, or a playwright in the Shakespearean style, this linguistic phenomenon does not speak only of the philosopher, the psychologist or the playwright, but of the individual who contributed his name (to the dictionary) and converted it to an adjective.

This same individual who converted his name to an adjective left behind, not incidentally, his imprint on the world. Nevertheless, it is fitting to note that the influences are not necessarily positive ones (to say that a politician has a Hitlerian world concept is not a great compliment). However, Nachshon ben Aminadav, on the basis of his pioneering action, without a doubt a positive action, converted his name to an adjective.

Parashat Nasso is the longest section in the Torah, with 176 verses. However, if we closely inspect the verses, we discover that many of the verses repeat themselves over and over. The twelve princes of the tribes presented, one after the other over a period of twelve days, their offerings for the Mishkan upon the completion of its construction. Twelve times the Torah repeats the giving of the offerings, word for word – changing only the name of the giver.

Nachshon ben Aminadav , the leader of the tribe of Judah, gave his offering on the first day. However, Nachshon ben Aminadav is not called "Nassi" (prince). He is the only one among all of the twelve princes who is not referred to by title but solely by his full name. (“And he that presented his offering the first day was Nachshon the son Aminadav, of the tribe of Judah” (Bemidbar 7:12).

What happened here? Why is this?

There are those who are always referred to with their titles preceding their names (Dr. So-and-so, Professor …. , etc.) But there are those who do not attach titles. They do not require them.

An interesting example is that of Moses our Rabbi. All of the other Rabbi’s names are preceded by their title: Rabbi Akiva, Rabban Gamliel, our Rabbenu Tam.

With Moses it is different. He is not “our Rabbi Moses” (Rabbenu Moshe) rather Moses, our Rabbi (Moshe Rabbenu).

Why?

For the simple reason that his name was greater than his title. He was worthy of admiration and honor because he was Moses, not because of he was a Rabbi.

There is a similarity in what happened with Nachshon ben Aminadav…if you are Nachshon, you do not require a title. Your name says it all. Your name rises above any title. Rabbi Shimon bar Yochai speaks in the Mishna of "three crowns" or titles of leadership that the Torah requires us to treat with respect.

The "three crowns" are: the crown of Torah, the crown of Cohanim (Priesthood) and the crown of kingdom. But he emphasizes that there is an additional crown, the crown of a good name, which rises above them all (Avot 4, Mishna 13).

We can recognize a person by his title. He is a King, a Rabbi or a Cohen. He is a doctor, a professor or a judge. Yet there is no crown that rises above the crown of a good name. If you have a good name, not title is necessary.

Previous Drashot

Naso 5766 – Take them also

Tazria

2008-03-31T10:22:00.000+03:00

Man and the Mosquito

Rabbi Gustavo Surazski

The Torah Portion Metzora is, at first glance, a portion concerning dermatology and various skin diseases such as leprosy. However, in the opinion of the sages, this is not the main topic. Our skin is a defensive wrapping that separates what is within us from what is outside our body. Therefore, say the sages, skin ailments are not only physiological but also expressions of defects in our inner, spiritual state.

Rabbi Shmuel Bar Nahmani speaks in the name of Rabbi Yochanan of seven evils that cause these skin diseases: gossip (Lashon HaRa), bloodshed (Shefichut Damim), vain oaths (Shevuat Shav), forbidden sexual relations (Giluy Arayot), haughtiness (Gasut HaRuach), robbery (Gezel) and envy (Tzarut Ayin) (Arachin 16a).

Today I would like to speak about one of those seven sins: haughtiness (Gasut HaRuach), which lies at the root of all other vices.

Unfortunately, we all know this vice, as chutzpah is also haughtiness. We all know that this is the most striking negative trait of our Israeli society. We know that the world has English tea, French perfume, Argentinian Dulce de Leche and Israeli chutzpah. The chutzpah is a blue and white product, made in Israel.

What is chutzpah? How can we define this well-known word?

It is the overbearing confidence of someone who thinks that all right and justice are his alone. Such a person feels that he is the centre of the world, that only he counts.

Actually, man is born with this trait. We are all descendants of Adam, who was the centre of the world and bequeathed this trait to all mankind.

In the Tractate Sanhedrin (38a) there is an interesting discussion on the fact of Adam being created on the eve of the Sabbath. If man is the crown of creation, why was he created at the end of the process and not at the beginning?

Among the interesting answers to this question, I like the following one: "So that if man becomes arrogant, I will tell him, 'the mosquito was created before you'". As soon as man becomes conceited and haughtiness enters deep into his soul, it is possible to remind him that even the mosquito preceded him in the order of creation.

Rabbi Raphael of Barshad says: I can try to justify and find excuses for all sins except that of haughtiness.

When I am asked in the heavenly court, "Did you study Torah?" I will answer, "To my sorrow I was ignorant and did not know how to study."

They will ask, "Did you observe the fasts?" and I will answer, "I was weak and did not have the strength."

"And did you give money to charity?" they will ask and I will answer, "To my regret, I could not. I was poor and needy."

In that case, they will say: "You were ignorant, you had no strength, and you had no money. Why were you insolent? Why did you have such conceit and chutzpah?"

To that, says Rabbi Raphael, I will have no answer.

The Torah warns us against this unjustifiable vice, and the destructive power of haughtiness. Let us always remember that even the mosquito preceded us in the order of creation.

Tzav

2008-03-17T12:35:00.000+02:00

G-d humbles the proud

Rabbi Gustavo Surazski

Parashat Tzav begins with a description of the kohen's workday. His day begins with the removal of the ashes of the previous day's sacrifices from the altar.

Why is this commanded as the first act of the kohen's day? What is its purpose? Rabbi Bahya Ibn Pakuda, in his book Hovot ha-Levavot ["Duties of the Hearts"] wrote: "...and the Creator commanded him to remove the ashes every single day to make him humble and to remove haughtiness from his heart."

Just imagine: the kohen arrives at the Temple in the morning and feels very special. He is a member of the elite. He may even feel that he enjoys some genetic superiority over the rest of the nation. Therefore, his first daily task humbles this potential pride. (This is one of the Divine attributes of which we read following the Shema Yisrael in the morning service: "God humbles the proud and raises the lowly").

Arrogance is without a doubt one of the more dangerous human attributes, and it is uniquely human. There is nothing like it in the animal kingdom. Animals may be loyal or timid, we may find courage and even self-sacrifice, but arrogance is exclusively human.

There is a fable that tells of a song competition in the jungle. Each animal was given a ballot to vote for the winning competitor, and a giant ballot box was placed in the middle of the jungle. Then each animal -including the human- ascended to the podium, in alphabetical order, to sing.

The time came to count the votes. The elephant brought the ballot box to the center of the podium, and the owl began to call out the votes. The first vote was cast for the donkey, so was the second, and the third. There was silence in the jungle. The donkey was nice, but lacked charisma. The donkey delivered a poor performance in its hoarse, wobbly voice. Yet the donkey won all the votes, and all understood why. All the animals thought that the donkey could never win the competition, so they all voted for it, all but two. The donkey did not vote for itself, but cast its vote for the nightingale. And the human voted for himself.

The kohen may delude himself into thinking that he is supreme by virtue of his closeness to G-d's Temple. He may conclude that all depends upon him, and that without his help Israel cannot realize G-d's intended purpose. The point of the mitzvah of removing the ashes is to maintain the kohen's sense of proportion, and to check any delusions of grandeur. It internalizes the message that he, too, is one of the people, and his position is the same as theirs.

Mishpatim

2008-01-28T09:20:00.000+02:00

The most important letter
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Rabbi Gustavo Surazski
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Just a week ago we read about the revelation at Mount Sinai. We heard voices, saw lightning and spoke about the relationship between man and his God. A week ago we were almost in the heavens. This week we come back to earth.

The portion Mishpatim deals with the relations between man and his fellow-man. This week we hardly speak about God. This week we speak about theft and other criminal offences, about laws for the protection of the poor, the stranger, the orphan and the widow; about trespassing and damages.

In fact, whoever says that Judaism is a ritualistic religion evidently never read the portion Mishpatim.

"And these are the laws which you shall set before them" (Exodus 21, verse 1). Thus begins the portion. Why does it begin "And these are" and not "These are" without the word "And" which is the letter vav in Hebrew?

RaSHI refers to the letter vav in the opening verse and says, "As the first are from Sinai, so these are from Sinai". RaSHI connects the Ten Commandments to the laws that appear in this portion. "Do not think", Rashi wants to say, "that at Mount Sinai we were told only "I am the Lord thy God" and "Remember the Sabbath day". "You shall not oppress a stranger" and "You shall not subvert the rights of your needy in their disputes" were also said at Sinai. Judaism makes no distinction between ritual and morality. The letter vav meaning "And" serves as a bridge between heaven and earth.

Even so, there are still Jews who insist on looking upwards and not down. A friend told me recently that he had stopped attending his synagogue. He was never a religious man but his three-year-old daughter was killed in a terror attack and he went to the synagogue every week to say kaddish. I asked him why he had stopped going. He answered, "I went to the same synagogue for ten months. A week ago I sat during the service with my legs crossed. Someone came up to me and told me to straighten my legs, that it was not done to sit the way I was sitting. And then I thought to myself: "I've been coming here for ten months. No one ever said Shalom to me. In fact, no one ever asked me why I say kaddish. If the first time someone speaks to me is to tell me that it is forbidden to sit there with my legs crossed, I will not return to that place. I don't wish to pray in a place like that".

Judaism is a blend of heaven and earth. We are asked to look upwards, to rest on the Sabbath, to refrain from eating certain foods, to observe family purity. To the same degree we are asked to visit the sick, comfort mourners, and care for the poor, the stranger, the orphan and the widow. In the Torah there is no difference between heaven and earth. Both sets of commandments come from Sinai.

A few days ago something interesting happened to me. A friend from abroad sent me ten e-mails and I didn't answer even one. The truth is, I didn't answer because I didn't receive even one. A few weeks later, we found that he had omitted one letter of my e-mail address.
He said to me, "E-mail is like the Torah. If one letter is missing, the message does not reach its destination". I thought to myself: that is the value of the letter vav meaning "And" at the beginning of this Torah Portion. If it is missing, the message of the Torah does not reach its destination.

Perhaps it is the most important letter in the whole Torah.

Yitro

2008-01-21T11:15:00.000+02:00

In the Second Person

by Rabbi Gustavo Surazski

This week we read Parashat Yitro with the Ten Commandments at the center.

There are two distinctive things in the Ten Commandments if compared to the laws of other peoples. The first is that in the Ten Commandments, the commandments are "categorical" with no punishment cited. "Thou shalt not steal"' for example is a categorical commandment, unequivocal and undebatable.

I will now think as a parent.

I can explain to my daughters why it's worthwhile to go to bed early. And although I am fully aware in advance that my explanations won't convince them, I can give my reasons and I can be flexible.

However, there are times when an order is unequivocal and there is no room for "negotiations". If they try to put a needle into an electric socket, I can explain the reasons that this is forbidden but I can never be flexible…

In other codexes of law, for example the laws of Hammurabi in the 8th century B.C.E., there is no such thing, punishment plays a central role in the system and it makes no difference if it is the death penalty or any other physical punishment.

The main point is that it is the punishment that explains the command. While in the "Ten Commandments", the command is absolute.

The second point that differentiates the "Ten Commandments" from other legal systems is the phraseology. The "Ten Commandments" are phrased in the second person and that is a relevant and revolutionary point. In the same way that we relate to G-d in the second person (in saying the blessings we say "Blessed art Thou O Lord our G-d" and not "Blessed is He") thus the Ten Commandments are also phrased in the second person and say "Thou shalt not steal" in the second person. The Ten Commandments have been given such an honored place in Judaism because they are a kind of an intimate conversation, face to face between The Holy One and his people.

We are not speaking here about an impersonal form of address where the responsibility for implementation falls on everyone in general but on a form of address in the second person that is addressed to each and every individual in the Jewish people.

The style shows us that the laws apply to everyone – the weak and the strong, the rich and the poor, on our neighbor but primarily on myself…

It is always easier to think that the sinner is the one on the other side of the street.

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Yitro 5766 – Selective Holiness

Vaera

2007-12-31T11:09:00.000+02:00

The Quality of Anger

By Rabbi Gustavo Surazski

A very strange thing happened with the second plague in Egypt, the frog. Actually, if we go according to Rashi's interpretation, we see that the Egyptians themselves brought that plague upon themselves.

Regarding the plague of the frog, it is written: "And the frog came up and covered the land of Egypt" (Shemot, 8:2). We would expect to read "and the frogs came up". Why does the word "frog" appear in the singular?

According to Rashi: "There was (only) one frog and (when) they struck at it, it would split apart into various teeming swarms. That is its midrashic explanation".

Let us focus on the moral in this source. A huge frog might be an attraction in a city zoo, but not necessarily a plague. What caused the plague? The Egyptians brought it on upon themselves! They began to strike the frog and saw that it gave birth to two, then four, then eight and so on.

They certainly perceived what was happening. Yet they didn't succeed in conquering their anger and so billions of frogs covered all of the land of Egypt.

Rabbi Ya'akov Kanievsky states in his book "Birkhat Peretz" :

"The more the frog spawned more frogs, the more their wrath inflamed them and they continued to strike at it until the land of Egypt was covered with frogs. This is to teach you that it is better for man to conquer his nature, to hear the scorn and not to reply and thus slowly, slowly the disagreement will settle down, rather than to return war and even add boiling oil to the flames of the division".

A personal story:

When I was eighteen years old, I was far from being a Rabbi. I had completed 12th grade in Argentina and was confused. I didn't know in which direction to continue…

After a few months of deliberation, I reached the conclusion that it was my calling to be a Graphics Designer. I shared my decision with my parents. It raised strong opposition in my family. My parents didn't agree that it was my life's calling. It wasn't -so they claimed- the right career for me. And to earn a living -so they informed me- wouldn't be simple.

I entered the university, and to be honest, wasn't exactly enthralled with my studies. But the important thing was to continue in order to show them that I wasn't wrong, that I would be the one to decide my life's agenda and not them, and that their opposition would get them nowhere...

During my second year of studies, the pressure lessened. I don't know whether they backed down as a strategic measure or out of despair, but that same year I left my studies.

An important rule that the frog plague teaches us is that of the quality of anger. Exaggerated anger only brings about the strengthening of the opposition and returns to us as a boomerang. It is very possible that if my parents hadn't lessened the pressure on me, a different Rabbi would be writing this commentary on Parashat Vaera.

This occurs in various areas. Sometimes a minor phenomenon in society receives a great deal of publicity and commentary in the media, resulting in the strengthening of the phenomenon instead of containing it.

Exaggerated anger spawns frogs.

So, the next time you see something infuriating, take a moment and thing about the frogs and only then decide: either learn to restrain yourself or spawn frogs everywhere…

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Vaera 5766 – A hard-of-hearing people

Vayechi

2007-12-17T09:38:00.000+02:00

It's Cold Outside

By Rabbi Gustavo Surazski

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A question that often bothers parents is: How can we bridge between the differences in the education and values within the family to that of the society around us.

And not only in regard to the Jewish aspects...This question is also relevant on subjects such as smoking, alcohol, drugs. How much influence does a parent's preaching actually have on a child's education? How much are they influenced by their peers?

In this week's portion we find such tension.

Jacob our father knows his days are numbered, and he calls upon his 12 sons, to pass down to them their blessings and spiritual inheritance.

But first, he blesses his two grandsons, Ephraim and Manashe. "And he blessed them that day, saying: 'By thee shall Israel bless, saying: May G-d make thee as Ephraim and as Manashe". (Genesis 48, 20).

We recognize this dialogue from the "Birkat Habanim", the blessing that parents say over their children on Shabat and on Yom Kippur. The question is why were Ephraim and Manashe rewarded with this honorary position in Jewish tradition. Why not bless: "May G-d make thee as Abraham, Isaac and Jacob", just as girls are blessed "May G-d make thee as Sarah, Rebbekah, Rachel and Leah".

Rabbi Shmuel Hominer Z"L gives us an answer in his book "Eved HaMelech":

From all the Tribes, Ephrayim and Menashe were the only ones who were born and raised in Egypt, deep in its defilement. They hosted all the State's Ministers and Wise men at their home as it was customary to do as Second to the King. They lived for many years there, in a foreign land, away from the Holy land and away from their ancestors. Not like the ten Tribes that were raised at the Home of Jacob our father. With Jacob's spirit as their inspiration, and even, when they came to Eretz Israel from Haran, they were lucky to be with Isaac.

When Jacob arrived in Egypt he realized that Ephraim and Manasseh were not attracted by the Egyptian defilement. They were not impressed by it and learned nothing of the nation's traditions or manners. On the contrary, he saw that they were raised by Joseph, in the righteous ways of the Torah and God fearing, so much so that they were found worthy of being included in the Twelve Tribes.

Rabbi Shmuel Hominer's words are very relevant; he points out that these children had the largest potential to choose a different path. How long will family values be able to stand up before threatening surroundings of defilement?

"God make thee as Ephraim and as Manasseh" is not an insurance policy...It is a prayer from the depth of our hearts that our children will follow in our footsteps, because it gets cold out side.

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Vayechi 5766 - Aryeh King of Israel

Miketz - Hannuka

2007-12-03T11:34:00.000+02:00

Body and Spirit

Rabbi Gustavo Surazski

In Genesis Chapter 10, we are told about Noah's sons who were the ancestors of all the nations of the world. The first son was Shem. We all know the meaning of the word "Shem" (Name). Name is the essence of man, the world of the spirit. Our forefather Abraham was a descendant of Shem so that, in effect, all of us, as Jews, are descendants of Shem.

The name of Ham, the second son, derives from the word "hom", meaning "heat". The word suggests the world of natural drives, the physical, instinctive and sometimes even primitive world. The Canaanites were the descendants of Ham.

The third son was Yaphet, from the word "yofi", meaning "beauty". He is the archetype of the material world -art, sport and aesthetics. It is not by chance that the Torah tells us that Yaphet begat Yavan (Greece), the empire that has been unsurpassed in human history in the fields of art, sport and aesthetics.

To understand the deeper meaning of the Hannuka festival, we should think of the essential nature of Noah and his sons. The Hasmonean war was not only a war to ensure the physical survival of the Jewish people, but also a war to ensure its spiritual survival. It was a war between the values embodied in Yaphet and Shem.

I do not mean that the Jewish people are against aesthetics, art and sport. Jewish tradition did not object to taking care of the body or to external beauty, but never allowed the body to take precedence over the spirit. "Favour is deceitful and beauty is vain, but a woman that feareth the Lord, she shall be praised" (Proverbs 31, verse 30) does not deny the value of charm and beauty but states that without spiritual beauty they are worthless.

Joseph, whom we read about in the portion of the week, was also "well-favoured", but the sages never refer to him as "the handsome Joseph" but only as "the righteous Joseph", clear proof that Joseph succeeded in overcoming the temptations of Potiphar's wife.

If you ask me what the reason is for the survival of the Jewish people for so many generations after pogroms, blood and Holocaust, there is only one answer: we were never, as a people, enslaved to the material world; not to buildings, not to land, and not even to the tablets of the Ten Commandments. We succeeded in rebuilding our community after the destruction of the Temple. We succeeded in growing as a nation even in the hard times of exile. We knew how to write books after the loss of the tablets. On the other hand, peoples who saw the body and the material world as their purpose appear today in history books, for it is possible to destroy the body, but never the spirit.

We can understand this idea in the story of Rabbi Chanina ben Tradyon, one of the ten martyrs under Roman rule. When the Romans took him to be executed, they wrapped him in a Torah scroll and set it alight. While he was on fire, his students asked him,"Rabbi, what do you see?" He answered, "I see sheets of parchment burning and the letters on them soaring on high" (T.B. Avoda Zara 18a).

It is possible to burn the scroll itself but impossible to lose the spirit of its words. The Hannuka candles testify to the triumph of our spiritual values, not just to the physical survival of our people, because no power in the world can destroy our spirit and our essential nature.

Yamim Noraim

2007-09-09T12:22:00.000+03:00

The Flight of Renewal

by Rabbi Gustavo Surazski

In the description of the mystical journey of the Prophet Yechezkel, it says that the prophet saw four different figures surrounding the bottom of the chariot (G-d’s throne): the figure of an eagle, a bull, a lion and that of a man.

Based on this description, a Midrash tells us that four proud creatures were created in the world: The proudest among all the creatures that G-d created –according to the sages– is man. The proudest of the birds, the eagle. The proudest of the beasts, the bull. The proudest of the animal, the lion.

They all received greatness, and they all were placed under G-d’s chariot…so that none would take pride in the universe, and would know that the King of Heaven is above them… (Shemot Rabbah 23:13).

The Midrash says that G-d placed the figures of these four creatures beneath his chariot so that they would know that He is the King.

This is the point of the Days of Awe. The king of creatures, man - taking pride of the entire world, having conquered the land already in the days of Bereshit, descended upon the fish of the sea, upon the birds of the skies and upon all of the creatures that walk upon the land – clears his place on center stage and anoints the King of kings with the sound of the Shofar, through prayer and in hymns.

Only yesterday we were the kings of creation, but the liturgy of the Days of Awe presents us as slaves begging for mercy and compassion.

How can we deal with such a dramatic change?

Perhaps we can learn from one of our partners in pride, one of the figures located beneath G-d’s chariot, the eagle.

The life expectancy of the eagle can be very long, as much as seventy years. However, in order to reach this age, he must make a very important decision upon reaching the age of forty, a decision will permit him to live out his full life’s potential as nature grants him.

At this age, the talons which all these years had been flexible, can no longer successfully hold the pieces of meat from which he gains his sustenance. His sharp curved beak is too bent and weak. He has difficulty flying because his feathers are too thick, his wings too heavy, and he lacks the strength to spread his wings to their fullest length and breadth.

At this age, the eagle faces two alternatives: to deteriorate until death, or to choose a process of renewal, during which he faces with courage the painful process which will allow him to create himself anew. He flies to find himself a safe haven between the high and isolated cliffs. When he finds himself a secure place, he begins to smash his beak with great force on the wall, time after time until his beak is torn off at the base. Then he waits until a new beak grows in its place, and with it pulls out his old talons.

When his talons are regrown, he uses them to pluck out his old, heavy feathers. In this fashion, after one hundred and fifty days, he will take renewed flight.

The Days of Awe represent our own flight of renewal.
We need them, not G-d.

This flight of renewal places our lives into proportion, because only creatures that view themselves as mortal require stations along the way.

We know that most of the parameters that caused us to stop will repeat themselves in the coming year…

Our feathers will again thicken and our wings will become heavy, but thank G-d, we won’t have to wait forty years; in another twelve months we will receive the wonderful gift that is called “The Days of Awe”.

I feel that a good example to help us understand this principle is that of a car wash. Washing a car doesn’t pay – we wash our car and within a couple of days it is dirty once again.

If this is so, why do people stubbornly repeat the same mistake time after time? Have you ever washed a car after two years of not washing it?

It is impossible to do. The dirt has been absorbed into the paint and washing it has become too difficult a task.

We don’t wash our car in order to prevent future dirt. We wash it so that it will look like new for a certain period of time and so that in the future it will be possible to wash it more easily.

The Days of Awe do not promise us eternal purification, rather a necessary process of renewal in order that we will appear for a certain period of time as pure creatures and so that we can, in another year – G-d willing – return to the same place at the same hour to renew our flight.

Oh Lord, bring us back and we will return unto you, renew our days as of yore. May you be inscribed and sealed in the Book of Life!

Ketivah and Chatimah Tovah!

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Yamim Noraim 5767 - Ascent for the sake of descent

Be-Har - Be-Chukotai

2007-05-10T09:12:00.000+03:00

Theology and Meteorology

Rabbi Gustavo Surazski

Parashat Be-Chukotai, one of the portions that we read this week, contains the curses and punishments which will be inflicted upon those who do not obey G-d's commandments.

If in My statutes ye walk, and if my commandments ye keep, and do them: Then will I give you rains in their due season, and the earth shall yield her products, and the tree of the field shall yield its fruit (Leviticus 26. 3-4).

I think that one of the most central questions in the Torah is how we read these portions which talk about reward and punishment and particularly about blessings of rain. Rabbi Harold Kushner once said that this statement has a theological and not a meteorological meaning. It can definitely be said that if the people of Israel do not retain some measure of morality, such as that described in the book of Leviticus, they will not survive even if the rains do fall at the correct time.

Although the people of Israel are the target of this Reproach (tochachah), there are various examples in the Torah (like the Flood and the story of Sodom and Gomorrah) which show that this message is just as relevant to the other nations of the world.

The British historian Arnold Toynbee describes in his book "A Study of History" the rise and fall of 21 great ancient civilizations and proved that the reason for their downfall was an internal and not an external one. Those cultures were destroyed not because of the arrival of an external enemy and a military defeat, but because they themselves had become their own worst enemy. And it was a slow and destructive process.

The modern reader reads this passage: "If in My statutes ye walk…Then will I give you rains in their due season" and might consider this a primitive viewpoint. But even historians are convinced that such a statement was relevant from the outset of human existence until the present: a nation which does not behave righteously is doomed to pay the price.

A few days ago, I received a very nice e-mail describing the difference between wealthy and poor countries in the world. And in fact, our portion also deals with rain blessings, seasonal rains, crop yields and fruits of the trees…

And so, how does one define the difference between wealthy and poor countries?

Poor and rich countries cannot be differentiated in terms of their age. This can be seen if we compare countries like India and Egypt, which are poor despite being in existence for thousands of years, with countries like Australia and New Zealand, which were relatively unknown 150 years ago, yet are thriving and highly developed today.Perhaps the difference between poor and rich countries lies in the availability of their natural resources? Not so. Japan, for example, has limited, mountainous territories which are totally unsuited to agriculture or cattle farming, but is nevertheless the second largest financial power in the world today.

Switzerland is a similar case in point. The lack of access to the sea has not prevented this country from developing a large navy. It does not grow cocoa, but manufactures the best chocolate in the world. This rather small country somehow manages to raise sheep, and also to plant crops, even though this is limited to the four months of the year which are not cold and wintry. Despite all of these handicaps, the country still produces the best dairy products in Europe. And like Japan, which also lacks natural resources, Switzerland also exports products of a quality which is difficult to compete with.

Intelligence is also not a factor differentiating poor from rich countries. This is proved by all those students who have emigrated from poor countries to wealthier countries and managed to achieve excellence in their fields.

Finally, neither is race a factor which differentiates between poor and rich countries. In Central Europe, North Africa and North America we can observe how the various different ethnic groups actually form the productive power in these countries.

Then what factors do make a difference? It is people's attitudes which make all the difference. The wealthier and more successful countries all embrace the following values:-

1. The primary and basic principle – Morality
2. Order and cleanliness
3. Integrity
4. Punctuality
5. Responsibility
6. The desire for progress
7. Respect for the rights of others
8. A work ethic
9. An effort to economize
10. Humility
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In poor countries, only a minority (almost none) of the population fulfill these basic principles in their daily lives.

The abundant blessings described in our portion are bestowed according to our attitude towards observing the laws of the Torah and following the paths of righteousness. This is the "recipe for wealth" offered by the Torah.

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Be-Har – Be-Chukotai 5766 – A True Blessing

Tazria-Metzora

2007-04-18T12:40:00.000+03:00

Created TO DO

Rabbi Gustavo Surazski

The commandment of circumcision (Brit Milah) that Abraham Avinu fulfilled in Parashat Lech lecha, appears for the second time in Parashat Tazri'a. But the context is completely different to that of Parashat Lech Lecha. The circumcision mitzvah is mentioned in relation to the impurity of the parturient (Tumat Ha-Yoledet).

"And G-d spoke unto Moses, saying: Speak unto the children of Israel, saying: If a woman be delivered, and bear a man-child, then she shall be unclean seven days; as in the days of the impurity of her sickness shall she be unclean. And in the eighth day the flesh of his foreskin shall be circumcised" (Leviticus 12:1-3).

There is a well known dialogue between the wicked Turnusrufus and Rabbi Akiva which will help us in understanding the deep meaning of the commandment of Brit Milah:

"Whose deeds are more pleasant -asked Turnusrufus to Rabbi Akiva- those of G-d or those of flesh-and- blood?'.

He replied: "Those of mortals".

Asked Turnusrufus: "What about heaven and earth? Can man create the likes of those?".

"Said R' Akiva: 'Don't tell me things that are beyond the capacity of mankind, things they are incapable of. Give me an example that they can accomplish as mortals".

"He asked: 'Why do you circumcise yourselves?'.

"I knew you would ask that. That's why I started off by saying that man's actions are better than G-d's.' He then brought some wheat stalks and some pastries and said: "These are the products of G-d and those are manmade products. Aren't those [cakes] better than these stalks?".

"Said Turnusrufus: 'But if He desired circumcision, why doesn't the newborn emerge from the womb already circumcised?".

"Said R' Akiva: '…This is because G-d specifically provided us with commandments in order to purify us through them…" (Tanchuma Tazria).

What does the Midrash want to teach us?

Turnusrufus represents the opinion of all those who believe that in nature all is perfect and as such no amendments should be carried out. If the Creator is perfect – suggests Turnusrufus – also the Creation should be perfect and there is no sense that mankind will come and fix something that does not need any fixing as it is perfect!

The RaMbaM says at the beginning of Hilchot Avodat Kochavim (1, 1):

"In the days of Enosh, the people fell into gross error, and the counsel of the wise men of the generation became foolish. Enosh himself was among those who erred. Their error was as follows: ‘Since, God,’ they said, ‘created these stars and spheres to guide the world, set them on high and allotted to them honor, and since they are ministers who minister before Him, they deserve to be praised and glorified, and honor should be rendered them; and it is the will of G-d, blessed be He.

Enosh saw that the world was doing OK and this led him to the wrong conclusion that nature (and in his case the stars) are worth worshiping.

Enosh's mistake was similar to Turnusrufus' and their opinion seems to be a pagan concept: "If G-d is perfect so the world must be perfect as well".

Abraham Avinu, says the Rambam (Hilchot Avodat Kochavim 1, 3), saw the same things that Enosh saw but he reached a different conclusion: he understood that the nature phenomena has a leader and only the leader (and not nature!) is worthy worshiping.

Natural things not necessarily are perfect. Rabi Akiva thinks that there is a place for mankind to intervene in nature.

….

When we read about the Creation it is said: ."And God blessed the seventh day, and hallowed it; because that in it He rested from all his work which he created TO DO" (Genesis 2:3).

Why it is written TO DO?

Because the Creation needs mankind intervention. G-d created the world in order TO DO so that we will be able to complete its creation…because the world is not perfect.
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Tazria-Metzora 5766 - Man and the Mosquito

Shemini

2007-04-11T13:09:00.000+03:00

This Devar Torah is dedicated Le-Ilui Nishmat Zehava bat Mina Ve-Asher Gofriti Z'L

Purity and Impurity

Rabbi Gustavo Surazski

In addition to the long list of forbidden foods, Parashat Shemini gives us a grave warning lest we touch carcasses and become impure. "And for these you shall be unclean; whoever touches the carcass of them shall be unclean until evening." (Leviticus 11:24)

Why is it that we must be so careful about impurity that the Torah even warns us against touching impure things?

We also find permitted food in this Parashah. Don't permitted foods have the power to "neutralize" the impurities of the forbidden foods?

Generally speaking, there is something interesting about the laws of purity.

When something pure comes in contact with something impure, impurity and not purity is the active factor, and thus the pure becomes defiled and we cannot say that the impure is purified.

Why?

Let me give you a trivial example.

If I enter a pool of mud, I will get dirty, but if I enter a pool of soap ….. I won't come out clean unless I scrub myself.

And why not?

Because cleanliness requires much more of an effort than uncleanliness. A man can become dirty within a minute, but a "real" bath, takes half an hour.

A similar thing happens with clothes.

A piece of clothing can get dirty without our even noticing, but a serious laundry takes at least a half an hour.

The explanation: uncleanliness is a given while cleanliness is a process.

A similar thing happens with purity and impurity (even though there is no connection between impurity and dirt).

Purification is a long process. We are speaking of a process that requires a lot of effort on man's part, and it is a process with difficulties and even momentary failures. Permitted foods do not have the power to "neutralize" the impure, for a man is not purified as a result of eating ritually slaughtered beef or kosher chicken.

It doesn't work that way. (It is not written even once in the Torah "whoever touches pure food, becomes pure himself").

Avoiding the eating and touching of forbidden foods is an essential step towards a pure life of holiness.

And thus it is written towards the end of the Parashah following the long list of forbidden foods: "...you shall therefore sanctify yourselves, for I am Holy; neither shall you defile yourselves with any manner of creeping thing on the earth" (Leviticus 11:44).

Holiness is not a given.
Holiness is a project.
Holiness is a challenge.

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Shemini 5766 – The Stork's Flaw

Ki Tissa (Parah)

2007-03-05T23:22:00.000+02:00

Lechayim! (To Life)

Rabbi Gustavo Surazski

In the tractate Yoma, the Gemarah discusses one of the more relevant issues in the Jewish tradition and the question is whether saving a life takes precedence over the Sabbath. A number of sages deal with this issue. One of the approaches is closely connected with our Parashah, Parashat Ki Tissa.

In Parashat Ki Tissa we read the "Ve-Shamru" (Thou shall keep), verses that we all know from the Sabbath prayers. "Wherefore the children of Israel shall keep the Sabbath, to observe the Sabbath throughout the generations, for a perpetual covenant." (Exodus 31:16) Rabbi Shimon Ben Menasiah said, "And the children of Israel shall keep the Sabbath" – "One may profain one Sabbath in order to observe many Sabbaths". (Yoma 85b)

The Torah commands us to observe the Sabbath and thus we must make sure that more Jews do indeed observe it. Thus, if you see a Jew in mortal danger, you must profain the Sabbath so that in the future, that Jew will be able to observe many Sabbaths.

We are speaking here about an ultimate value that determines the order of precedence in our religious tradition. The sages guarded this principle so carefully that they even decided that "any doubt of mortal danger takes precedence over the Sabbath". (Yoma 83a)

The Gemara says, "Don't make calculations". "Don't request an ultra-sound or a C.T. in order to know if it is permitted to break the Sabbath in order to save a life".

The decision that saving a life takes precedence not only over the Sabbath but over all of the things forbidden in the Torah (with the exception of pagan worship, incest and murder) is one of the most effective barriers against religious fanaticism.

Take the story about Rabbi Haim from Tsanz who fell ill at the start of Passover and the doctors recommended that he not eat Maror (bitter herbs) n the night of the Seder.

Inspite of this, Rabbi Haim demanded that a generous helping of Maror be prepared for him.

And when the time to eat the bitter herbs came, he took them in his hand and said with enthusiasm "Blessed are Thou…who sanctified us with his commandments and commanded us to take care of ourselves (Baruch ata…asher kidshanu be-mitzvotav vetzivanu ve-nishmartem meod le-nafshoteichem) and immediately put the Maror back on to the Seder plate.

"You shall therefore keep my statutes and my judgments which if a man do he shall live in them, I am the Lord." (Leviticus 18:5). We shall "live in them" and not "die in them" (Yoma 85 a), as Shmuel the Amorai said.

"Be fanatics!" say the sages, but fanatics for life! Only this kind of fanaticism is praiseworthy.

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Ki Tissa 5766 - Decisions with many consequences

Terumah

2007-02-22T21:28:00.000+02:00

The Instructor and the Builder

Rabbi Gustavo Surazski

Parashat Terumah along with the remaining significant chapters of Sefer Shemot is dedicated to the commandment of the building of the Tabernacle.

After reading the Parashah the impression is that Moses built the Mishkan with his own hands. Almost all the commandments are directed at him ("And thou shall make a table of Ocacia" (Exodus 25, 23), "And thou shall make a pure gold Menorah" (25, 31), "And thou shall make the boards for the Mishkan" (26, 16).

But when reaching Parashat Ki Tissa we will see that Moses was not the one who actually built the Mishkan.

"And G-d spoke to Moses saying: Look, I called by his name Bezalel Ben Uri Ben Hur of Yehuda Tribe...and I gave, along with him Oholiav Ben Achisamach of Dan Tribe and I gave wisdom to the clever ones and they shall do all I have instructed you (Exodus 31 2-6).

Why did the Torah mention Moses as the Mishkan builder when we know that other hands did it?

This question appears in Exodus Rabbah on Parashat Trumah (Exodus Rabbah 35, 3):

Did Moses build the Tabernacle? It's written that Bezalel Oholiav and other clever people did it!

Moshe was the one who taught (how to build the Tabernacle) and Bezalel the one who made it. Therefore our Sages said that the reward should go to the person who causes someone to do (good) as well as to person who performs the deed himself. We find that Betzalel built the Tabernacle but the Holy One Blessed be He referred it to Moses' as it is said "God's Tabernacle which Moses made in the desert." (I Chronicles 21:29).

But in this Midrash there is an inner contradiction. If you really have to compensate the instructor in the same way as the builder then the verse in the Midrash does not prove it! On the contrary, it shows that the compensation of the instructor is higher than that of the builder as is says: "God's Tabernacle which Moses made in the desert". It is said "which Moses made" and not "which Moses and Betzalel made"!

This rule appears in the Gemarah in a slightly different version. Rabbi Eleazar says in Babba Batra (9a) "The person who causes someone to do good is greater than the one who performs the deed himself" (Gadol Ha-Measeh Yoter min Ha-Oseh).

One can learn about this rule from the laws of putting on the Tefillin:

Even if it seems that the hand on which the Tefillin is put is the one that fulfilled the Mitzvah, the opposite is correct: The hand that tied is the one who causes the fulfillment of the Mitzvah (Ha-Measeh). The hand that the Tefillin is on, just merited the Mitzvah that was executed by the tying hand!

Gadol Ha-Measeh Yoter min Ha-Oseh...

It is quite possible that Moses did not have the potential to build the Mishkan and the genetics was not at his side when the artistic talents were handed out. But it was he who encouraged the people to give and taught Bezalel the plan. Moshe was the one who suffered sleepless nights until the project was completed.

And even if Bezalel built the Mishkan, Moshe is the one who made it because the person who causes someone to do a good deed is greater than the one who performs the deed himself.

Previous Drashot

Terumah 5766 – Deeds, not Words

Beshalach

2007-02-01T13:06:00.000+02:00

The Horses' Betrayal

by Rabbi Gustavo Suraski

Parashat Beshalach is that of the parting of the Red Sea. I have always asked myself what caused Pharaoh's army to pursue the children of Israel into the divided waters. Didn't they realize that G-d would save his children this time too? They had already witnessed the power of G-d, suffered ten terrible plagues, and still not got the message?!

An interesting and rather nice interpretation appears in the Midrash, according to which the waves of the parted sea appeared to be mares – and Pharaoh's stallions went charging in after them. The Egyptians saw their reaction and remarked to their horses: "Yesterday we wanted to take you to the water to drink but you refused, yet now you are chasing after the water?!!". The stallions replied: "Look what is in the sea! Look at the mares!!" (Shemot Rabbah 23, 14).

What does this midrash teach us? Even if we are aware that stallions tend to chase after mares, it is not my intention to discuss equine fantasies at this point… (nor do I believe that this was the intention of the Midrash).

To me the lesson of the midrash is clear. The strength of the Egyptians lay in their horses. And buried in this strength was also their weakness, and, ultimately, their downfall. This story resembles that of the ram in the story of the attempted sacrifice of Isaac. Its strength was in its horns – its "weapons" – but it was these same horns which ultimately caused it to be trapped in the bushes.

Each feature has both strong and weak elements…

Since the founding of the State, our enemies have taught us that the only way to preserve ourselves is to acquire and manufacture arms and weapons of war. We have become a major military force in the world and Israel's military budget grows from year to year.

This is both important and necessary. There is no other way and we cannot rely on miracles. No one else will defend us if we don't do it ourselves.

But this is only one aspect of reality. It is not only the weapons which will save us as a nation. Not the horses, or the tanks, or the planes. The preservation of our values will also save us, both spiritually and ethically.

"Not by military force and not by physical strength, but by My spirit", says the Lord of Hosts" as written by the Prophet Zechariah (Zechariah 4, 6). It is not only our strength which will protect us. For horses, tanks and weapons can also betray us from time to time.

In every characteristic, even military force, there are also weaknesses and vulnerability.

"Not by military force and not by physical strength, but by My spirit".

Previous Drashot

BeShalach 5766 - Burning One's Ships

Bo

2007-01-22T17:48:00.000+02:00

Takers and Givers

by Rabbi Gustavo Surazski

This week’s portion of the Torah talks about the laws of the Passover sacrifice, the lamb that was butchered and eaten at the holiday feast. It is written in the Book of Shemot 12, 4:

"But if the household is too small for a lamb or kid, then he and his neighbor who is near his house shall take according to the number of people”.

This is very interesting. The Torah requests that a family with leftover meat MUST knock at his neighbor’s door and offer it to him. The Torah could have said that the poor man that didn’t have enough money to buy food for the holiday should knock at his neighbor’s door requesting food…

The Torah is the foundation of western cultures and most of the important Justice systems in the world. Even the fundaments of the human rights are found in the Torah…

If we look carefully into the torah, the word “right”, “rights” or “privileges” do not appear often. The Torah isn’t full of “rights” but full of “obligations”.

Obligations of children towards their parents, obligations of kings towards their people, obligations of the people towards the less fortunate, obligations towards strangers, orphans and widows, obligations towards G-D.

Why a beautiful word such as “Right” or “Privilege” doesn’t appear? If it is all the same…

If The Torah is after Social Justice, why not say for instance “I have the RIGHT to ask for and receive support from my fellow people”, instead of “It is my OBLIGATION to take care of and support the needy of my people?”. It is simple, If the Torah spoke of rights instead of obligations, it would “create” a TAKER mankind and not a GIVER one.

The Torah could have said that this Jew has the RIGHT to receive from his rich neighbor his remains from the Passover sacrifice. But the Torah says it is our OBLIGATION to give what is left over… And this is a totally different story.

We can learn this lesson from Abraham Avinu.. Our Sages tell us that Abraham sat at the heat of the day at the opening of his tent, waiting to see who passes by in order to invite them in (Baba Metzia 86b).

Why should he feel sorry? Why should he have to “create” needy and poor where none exist…

Rabbi Yerachmiel Barylka says something nice:

We can prove from Abraham’s behavior that the purpose of this Mitzvah is not only for the benefit of the RECEIVER but also and maybe more so for the GIVER…

The giver benefits more than the receiver as the mitzvah of Tzedakah clean, purifies and improves the spiritual strength of the GIVER.

This was Abraham’s sorrow. Not only was he good hearted towards the needy. But was sad because he didn’t have enough opportunities to improve the feeling in his soul.

We clearly see to which camp Abraham belongs. The same camp the Torah expects us all to belong to: The Camp of the GIVERS.

There is an old tale of a man who was drowning at sea. The lifeguard swam his fastest and reached him within minutes and yelled out “Give me your hand”. The man didn’t respond to the lifeguard’s call and kept yelling “Help, help!!”. Once again the lifeguard called out “Give me your hand, give me your hand”. Once again there was no response and the man finally drowned.

The lifeguard swam back to shore where he met the man’s wife who while crying asked: “Why didn’t you save him?”. “Madam”, he said, “I beg your forgivness, but I yelled out to him to: Give me your hand, Give me your hand, but he didn’t respond”.

“What a shame you didn’t talk to me first”, she said. “You should have said “take my hand and not give me yours as my husband never gave anyone any thing in his
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There are many “camps” in the Israeli society either Religious or Secular, Ashkenazis or Sephardies, Left wing or right Settlers, Veterans or Olim Chadashim. But the differences between these groups are irrelevant when we are talking about the future of the state of Israel.

There are only two camps we should consider. The GIVERS and the TAKERS. The Camp of students of Abraham our father, and the camp of people who will not give even to save themselves from drowning.

Previous Drashot

Bo 5766 - With our Young and with our Old

Vayigash

2006-12-27T10:43:00.000+02:00

The Dangers of Exile

Rabbi Gustavo Surazski

When I lived in Argentina, I always had two wishes: I did not want a Jew to be a key figure in the Treasury and -not to be compared- I did not want a Jew to be the trainer of the national soccer team. Jews in key positions always pose a potential threat to the local Jewish community.

Let us think about Yosef. After his career as the solver of dreams in prison, Yosef the Hebrew was appointed regent to the king. He was a key figure in the empire. Pharoah the king of Egypt admired him and Yosef proved himself for he saved Egypt during the years of famine.

But Pharoah's love was "not for the sake of heaven". He did not love Yosef "the Man". He certainly did not love Yosef "the Hebrew". He loved Yosef "the Solver of Dreams" because he was useful to the empire.

Pharoah's generosity towards Yosef and his brothers was based on the fact that he needed Yosef in the palace. Proof of this comes in the beginning of the Book of Exodus. After Yosef's death, when there is a king "who did not know Yosef", the special status disappears.

But the new Pharoah is not the only one responsible for the slavery of the Israelites in Egypt. The Israelites settled in Egypt and very quickly began to feel that this was their home.

Rabbi Shlomo Ephraim of Lunshitz, sees a hint of this in the last verse of our Parashah: "And Yisrael dwelt in the land of Egypt in the country of Goshen; and they took possession of it and grew and multiplied exceedingly" (Genesis 47:27).

"This whole verse is intended to point to the guilt of the Israelites. The Holy One blessed be He decreed that "your offspring shall be strangers" (Genesis 15:13), while they wanted to be permanent residents in a place where it was decreed that they be strangers...This verse blames them for their desire to take possession of land not theirs. Had they not said to Pharoah "we have come to sojourn in the land" (Genesis 47:4)? This teaches us that originally they had not come to settle in the land but only to live there as "temporary residents" and now they were going back on their word. They settled down to such an extent that they didn't want to leave Egypt until The Holy One was obliged to remove them "with a strong hand".

This story repeats itself throughout history. In Egypt before the period of slavery, in Spain before the expulsion and in Germany before the Holocaust. For some reason, in all those countries, Jews forgot that they were in exile.

I get the same impression each time I travel to the U.S.

Jews in America live with a similar feeling. It is correct that there is no threat of immediate danger in America...but there is something mistaken in this thought.

Thus when relatives phone from abroad during these difficult days of warnings, terrorist acts and the atomic threats and ask me if I'm worried, my answer is that in the last two thousand years there has not been a safer place for Jews to live than the place where I now live.

The "Chafetz Chayim" makes an interesting point:

When Shabat ends we say in the Havdalah: "He who divides between holy and profane, between light and darkness, between Israel and the nations".

Who has been given the responsibility of differentiating between holy and profane by the Holy One blessed be He? The responsibility lies with us, the people of Israel.

Who has the responsibility to separate light from darkness? This, the Holy one blessed be He has taken upon Himself; "And G-d divided the light from the darkness" (Genesis 1:3) .

And who has the responsibility of differentiating between Israel and other nations? Who has to take care of this division?

The "Chafetz Chayim" says: "The Holy One blessed be He gave this task to the nations!".

Every time Jews want to settle among the nations of the world, the nations' task becomes to set the Jews apart and they perform this task faithfully!
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Thus we see, Pharoah was not the only one responsible for the situation.

Previous Drashot

Vayigash 5766 - An Eternal Convenant

Vayishlach

2006-12-08T12:04:00.000+02:00

Fear and Forgiveness

Rabbi Gustavo Surazski

The Hebrew root S.L.CH (in its different forms) appears forty six times in the Torah. Amongst these are a few we recognize from the liturgy of the High Holidays: "And you shall forgive (ve-salachta) our iniquity and error, and make us Your heritage" (Exodus 34, 9). "Forgive (Slach) now the iniquity of this people according to the greatness of Your kindness" (Numbers 14, 19). "And G-d said: 'I have forgiven (salachti) this people because of your words" (Numbers 14, 20).
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In any case, the root S.L.CH appears always in connection with G-d. There are no recollections of humans forgiving. Therefore we can say that forgiveness is a characteristic held solely by G-d.
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Out of the forty six appearances of this root in the Torah, the verb doesn't appear even a single time in the book of Genesis; however, in this book, we are aware of two of the better know stories that include this idea. First is the famous story of Yosef and his brothers, and the second is the heartfelt meeting between Ya'acov and Esav after twenty years of separation. We can learn from these stories about the nature of the human forgiveness and the relationship between those who hurt and those whom have been hurt, those how forgive and those forgiven.
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There is a well known controversy between the Sages on the meeting between Jacob and Esav It is written: "And Esau ran to meet him, and embraced him, and fell on his neck, and kissed him; and they wept" (Genesis 33,4) Rashi Says: There are those who explain this dotting (the dots on the Hebrew word Va-Yishakehu) as saying that he did not kiss him with all his heart. Rabbi Shimon ben Yochai said: 'It is a well-known and accepted principle that Esav detests Ya'acov. However, at that moment his mercies were aroused and he kissed him with all of his heart'.
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The controversy is about Esav's feelings. Was his kiss honestly felt? Was he really able to forgive in his heart?
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There are those who believe in Esav's sincerity. Forgiveness is not the "weapon of the weak" but that of the strong. When you are not afraid forgiving comes easy. Where there is fear there is no forgiveness. It is a real paradox; the fear felt before the forgiveness disappears only in those who forgive and remains with those forgiven. Ya'acov wants forgiveness but nothing more. Esav suggest to continue their journey together, but Ya'acov evades the offer. Esav has forgiven Ya'acov but in Ya'acov's heart Esav remains Esav.
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It is the same in the story of Yosef. Yosef forgives and opens a new page. But his brothers still hold a grudge in their heart. They are sure that Yosef will "throw them to the dogs" after their father's death.
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I don't know what would have happened if Yosef had met up with his brother's while he was still in the pit. It is also hard to know what would have happened if Esav had met up with Ya'acov alone, without the company of family and soldiers but with a ragged dog... It may have been a totally different story.
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The strong have no problem with the idea of forgiving. Who is the stronger person in these stories? Who is the brave? The injurer or injured? The forgiver of forgiven?
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May be, the answer is simple. It is written in Masechet Avot (4:1): "Who is it that is most mighty? One who subdues his evil impulse". And Avot DeRabbi Natan (Version A, Chapter 23) adds and says: "(Mighty is he) who makes of his enemy a friend...".
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Previous Drashot
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Vayishlach 5766 - A Struggle of Conscience

Chaye Sarah

2006-11-14T11:45:00.000+02:00

The "Two Lives" of Sarah

by Rabbi Gustavo Suraszki

"And Sarah was a hundred and twenty seven years old; these were the years of the life of Sarah" (Genesis 23, 1)

The beginning of the portion Chaye Sarah ("The life of Sarah") deals, paradoxically, with the death of the matriarch Sarah.

What is the full explanation of the ambiguous Hebrew phrase "Shnay Chaye Sarah"?

The literal meaning tells us that Sarah was a hundred and twenty seven years old at the time of her death. However, there is another reading which I would like to discuss today.

Perhaps it is possible to understand the ambiguous phrase through interpretation and not only through its literal meaning. Maybe Sarah's life was divided into two periods and that is the interpretation of the phrase "Shnay Chaye Sarah" ("Shnay" in Hebrew also means "Two").

Why consider that Sarah's life was divided into two periods?

There are events that may change our lives completely. The birth of a child, marriage, divorce, bankruptcy, an operation, a death of a dear one or a child born in old age, as was the case with Sarah. It is very possible for our lives to have more than one distinct period. We do not live every moment of our lives with the same intensity. We all have something in our lives that changed us, that made us mature, sometimes even through pain and suffering.

Perhaps the first word of the Torah Portion "Vayihyu" ("And these were") can help us to illustrate that idea. The writer of "Mincha Belulah" suggests that the word "Vayihyu" in Gematria (numerology) is thirty seven (37) and if we subtract that from Sarah's 127 years we reach the age of ninety (90) which is when Sarah gave birth to Isaac.

We can say that Sarah had two periods in her life: the first until the age of ninety (90), years of suffering with regard to the son she could only dream about, and the second period of thirty seven years (37), years of happiness with the son who was the fulfillment of her dreams.

There is a tale about a man who walked in a forest and came across a cemetery.
Curiously, he noticed something strange in the headstones which were engraved with the ages of those who were buried there.

He was astounded. It seemed that all those buried there were children, the oldest being seventeen. The strangest thing was that the ages were written in detail: years, months, weeks, days, hours and even minutes and seconds.

How could such a thing be possible? Had there perhaps been an epidemic?
Still shocked, the man came to the neighbouring village, found one of the elders and asked him what tragedy had occurred there.

But there had been no epidemic and no catastrophe.

The old man told him about an ancient custom observed in that village. Each boy reaching bar mitzvah age received a notebook which was hung around his neck and in which he would record all moments of happiness and high points. In one column he recorded the experience and in another how long it had lasted.

If he fell in love for the first time, he would record how long the sublime feeling had lasted. Days? Weeks?

A first pregnancy, a dream trip, a joyful reunion with a brother living abroad...how long had the excitement lasted?

When the person died, they would take the notebook and calculate the time of pleasure.

Those were the ages that appeared on the headstones, for only those moments that are lived intensively are considered as truly living.

"Teach us to number our days" (Psalms 90, 12) is the prayer. May the G-d teach us to number and appreciate our days, to understand the value of each moment.

Even if they seem only a few years compared to ninety, the weight of thirty seven intensive years could be more that ninety indifferent ones.

Those were the "two lives" of Sarah.

Lech Lecha

2006-11-01T09:39:00.000+02:00

Pursuer of Justice

Rabbi Gustavo Surazski

After a long and exhausting war between two coalitions of kings in the area of the Dead Sea, the Torah tells us that our Father Abraham was informed that his brother Lot had been taken prisoner.

The Midrash, as usual, is very sensitive to the written word ("and Abraham heard that his brother had been taken into captivity") and asks in wonderment: "Was he really his brother?".

But, the Midrash answers that even after the quarrel between the shepherds of Abraham and the shepherds of Lot, and in spite of it, Abraham still called Lot "his brother" (Tanhuma, Lekh Lekha).

In this incident, our father Abraham begins a tradition of the pursuit of justice that reaches its climax in Parashat Va-Yera in the famous story about the destruction of Sodom and Gemorrah when Abraham says "Shall not the Judge of all the earth do right?" (Genesis 18:25).

The nature of Lot and the inhabitants of Sodom and Gemorrah did not make the crucial difference. Every time our father Abraham saw pain or injustice he intervened and even "cast words upwards" and knew how to argue with the Lord of the Universe. The main point is that each man who suffered became "his brother"...

In this case as well, Abraham is the father of our nation. Throughout the generations our father Abraham trained by example many students who knew how to fight in this area: the pursuit of justice at any price.

I would like to bring an example of this very same struggle, Rabbi Israel from Salant, founder of the Musar Movement and social justice in the middle of the 19th century.

Once he was asked to supervise the level of Kashrut in a matzah bakery. He checked the way the work was done and observed the staff at work.

At the end of the inspection the owner of the bakery asked proudly: "And what is the Rabbi's opinion?".

And Rabbi Israel answered: "The Gentiles libel us by saying we use the blood of Christian children to make matzot. They are mistaken. But from what I saw there exists in your bakery a case of forbidden blood. What I mean is that you are mixing the blood of your workers into the matzot. I will not grant any certificate of supervision to this bakery!".

And on another occasion when asked what to be most particular about when baking matzot, he answered: "Not shout at the woman who kneaded the dough".

"Justice, only justice shalt thou pursue, that thou mayst live and inherit the Land" (Deuteronomy 16:20) is one of the most well known verses in the Torah. This verse is so powerful that we sometimes look only at the first part and not at the last one.

The Torah tells us that the pursuit of justice is essential in order to inherit the Land. Without justice we have no share in this Land.

Our existence in the Land and our quality of life as a society, are unequivocally dependent on our level of justice. There is a total dependency between our national future and our willingness to pursue justice because, very simply, if we do not pursue justice, justice will flee from us…

I have the feeling that Abraham already knew this verse in his time and knew very well that the Land that was promised to him would belong neither to him nor to his descendents if he did not take an active uncompromising stand on the pursuit of justice.

And we are talking about human justice, the same justice that builds the future and strengthens society, and also about heavenly justice, even when it is necessary to reproach and criticize the Lord of the Universe so that His mercy will conquer His anger.

Previous Drashot

Lech Lecha 5766 - Stars and Comets

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Noach

2006-10-25T18:26:00.001+02:00

Stone or Window?

By Rabbi Gustavo Surazski

The story of Noah is one of children's favourites as it is a story full of animals, birds, colours and a rainbow.

We tend to picture Noah sunbathing on the deck of the ark with the elephant, the giraffe and the monkeys, but when we read the description of the ark in the Torah, we see that it is not at all the way we draw or imagine it.

There was no place to sunbathe because the ark had no deck. Actually, the ark was more like a submarine than a boat. There was one window in the ark and only through that could those inside see what was happening outside.

However, this too is a controversial point. The word Chalon (window) does not appear in the Torah portion which uses the word Tsohar which has more than one meaning. Some interpret it as an aperture, or skylight, which is a kind of window, while others interpret it as a precious stone (Rashi).

Rabbi Shlomo Kluger makes an interesting comment: What is the difference between a precious stone and a window? A window lets light in and through it we see what is happening outside. A precious stone has light within but we cannot see through it.

This difference is that between those who say that Noah the righteous man sat in the ark but his heart was with what was happening outside, and those who say that Noah cared only about himself and didn't care about what was happening outside the ark.

The ark, in the story of Noah, symbolizes security, the bubble or the ivory tower.

Everyone in his life sits in his own ivory tower. There are those who are financially secure and forget that there is poverty and hunger in the world, maybe even in their neighbor's house. There are those who have the support of family and friends who forget that there are many people in the world who suffer from unbearable loneliness.

There are many bubbles that may enclose us.

There is a famous dispute in the Gemarah (Megilah 24b) between Rabbi Yehuda and the Sages as to whether a blind person is obliged to recite the blessing on the lights. How can a blind person say "forms the light and creates darkness" (Yotser Or Uvore Hoshekh) if he has never seen daylight?

Rabbi Yossi in the Talmud states that he was always puzzled by the verse "You will grope at noontime as a blind person gropes in the darkness" (Deuteronomy 28:29).

What difference does it make to a blind person whether it is day or night? He cannot see in either case! Then Rabbi Yossi himself answers through the following tale:

It happened that he himself was walking in the dark of night and came across a blind man carrying a torch.

He said to the blind man, "My son, why are you carrying a torch?".

The blind man answered: "As long as I carry the torch, people can see me coming and come to my aid so that I do not trip and fall".

The purpose of light is not only to light the way for ourselves but also to enable us to see others and their world.

The controversy regarding the word “Tsohar” is not marginal. It is about the essence of a well-ordered society.

"Go out of the ark", says G-d to Noah when the waters subside, for there is a world outside your bubble.

Only Noah will decide whether he will turn the Tsohar into Zohar (brightness, radiance) and bring light to the world, or whether he will turn the Tsohar into Sohar (a prison) and enclose himself as he was in the ark and keep the light to himself.

Sukkot

2006-10-05T19:12:00.000+02:00

Cardiological Judaism

Rabbi Gustavo Surazski

According to our Sages (Leviticus Rabbah 30, 14), the Four Species used on Sukkot symbolize four different parts of the human body. The Etrog symbolizes the heart, the Lulav symbolizes the spine, the Hadas our eyes and the Arava our mouth.

In the light of this Midrash, I would like to comment on the holding of the Four Species together while saying the blessing over them.

There is a widespread phenomenon in our time I like to call "Cardiological Judaism". A Jew that says "I'm a Jew with all my heart, and I don't need anything else" falls under the category of a "Cardiological Jew".

The "Cardiological Judaism" dispute is not new; it has been going on for thousands of years within our nation. Paul of Tarsus (a Jew originally known as Shaul), and most commonly called the founder of Christianity, was the first to cancel the Mitzvah of the Brit Milah amongst the Jews that in time became Christians. He did so by saying that the circumcision should be performed in the heart rather than in the flesh.

The canceling of the Brit Milah and the emphasis put on the circumcision of the heart, is believed to be the turning point in the History of Christianity.

"Cardiological Judaism" (and with all due respect to other religions) was born when a charismatic Jew said out loud that the Jewish nation doesn't need any external sign or Mitzvah but only the belief in his heart, as all other body organs are secondary to it.

Today two thousand years later, scientific research shows that, statistically, the Jewish people are one of the ethnic and national groups with the highest percentage of heart disease. Is it possible that this is because "Cardiological Judaism" has "overloaded" the heart? Maybe because "Cardiological Judaism" is a synonym to the word "Assimilation".

In previous generations, the heart was used to work part-time. Jews expressed their Judaism with their entire body. With their eyes they learned Torah. With their spine they stood tall in synagogue. With their mouth they refrained from eating forbidden foods, etc...

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The assimilation process concludes with the heart. The last thing an assimilated Jew loses is the feeling that he is Jewish...in his heart.

And so, in the light of the Midrash, the holding of the Four Species together during the blessing in Sukkot is directed to the heart (the Etrog). To teach us that we cannot separate from the other organs symbolized by the other three species we hold in our right hand. And, moreover, to teach us that the "Cardiological Judaism" causes us harm. And that there are other organs whose purpose is to serve us, to help us show our emotions and let us know that not all relies upon the heart.

Haazinu - Shabat Shuva

2006-09-29T12:21:00.000+03:00

Biographies and Resumes

Rabbi Gustavo Surazski

When I was inducted as a rabbi in 1998, I received numerous gifts from friends, teachers and fellow students. It was a joyous occasion and as is the way of things, people find these times an excellent opportunity to give a present.

I received big presents, small presents, expensive ones and inexpensive ones; some dear and some not so dear. One gift was particularly special. It was the book "Hidushei Torah". This was from my friend Michael, who is, today, a Rabbi in the Hong Kong Jewish community.

At first I was very touched. I saw a beautiful cover and immediately wanted to return home in order to begin reading it. However, when I opened it, I was astounded. The book was empty - the pages were blank!

"With G-d's help -Michael told me- you will write several Torah commentaries and lessons of your own...Simply use this book."

Since then, I've written dozens of ideas for "Drashot" and "Divrei Torah".
Without a doubt, after seven years, I feel that this blank notebook was the best gift I received to set me on my way.

In the artistic world, there is a famous and painful syndrome. When architects, graphic designers, musicians and writers begin their tasks, they all have excellent creative ideas. Yet when faced with a blank page, they experience a few minutes or hours of creative black-out -"The Blank Page Syndrome".

It seems to me, that each year, at this time, we too receive the gift of a notebook, with empty or blank pages that we need to fill up throughout the coming year. Only we can complete the book with a nightmare or a dream, a song, a prayer or a blessing or -G-d forbid- a curse.

From time to time, we also get stuck and suffer from "The Blank Page Syndrome".

This week sees the end of the current chapter of our book - the chapter written during the past year. It is still our book, but we will no longer have the possibility of erasing or fixing any mistakes or correcting the style.

In a few hours the books in heaven above will be sealed, and our books on earth below will open on a fresh page. Again they will be inscribed with our dreams or fears, songs, prayers, blessings or -G-d forbid- curses.

Now let us take a few moments to consider the differences between a biography and a resume (Curriculum Vitae). How do they differ?

Above all, a resume is a marketing concept. It includes information and it is a manufactured advertising strategy. We try to sell ourselves and to elaborate the complimentary elements. No one would write a resume of his or her errors and failures.

A biography, on the other hand, exposes all our successes and failures. It reveals the things we want hide. As a resume is synthetic and subjective, so a biography is in-depth and objective.

A resume is the subjective and personal fruit of our own hands whilst a biography must be the objective fruit of another's hands.

Even though we would like to write our resumes during these Ten Days, in fact, G-d Almighty is writing our biographies - each and every exact detail. As long as the Heavenly Gates remain open, these can still be revised and corrected.

Yom Kippur is a great and terrible day throughout which we stand before a mirror, preparing to write the final chapters of our own autobiographies and to correct the distortions within them, honestly and earnestly with all sincerity...

...After all, a biography does not lie.

Yamim Noraim

2006-09-20T19:37:00.000+03:00

Ascent for the sake of Descent

Rabbi Gustavo Surazski

A few days ago I talked with a friend about the difference between the days of Pesach and the Days of Awe. When spring arrives and Pesach comes, we all want to link up with the earth, to go out into nature, to hike, to go on picnics etc.

In contrast, when fall arrives and Rosh Hashanah comes, we all want to link up with the heavens.

These are days of increased spirituality, and this is good for us. We need these days at least once in twelve months in order to cleanse ourselves from the "pollution" that we have absorbed during the year. The high point of spirituality and the knock on the door of heaven comes on Yom Kippur, the day that every Jew becomes an angel and cuts himself off from the material world.

There is a well known idiom in Hebrew "Yeridah Letzorech Aliyah" ("Descent for the sake of ascent"). The source of this idiom lies in the world of Hasidism. Descent, in any possible form, is sometimes essential for ascent.

Slavery in Egypt, for example, was descent for the sake of ascent. We descended to the lowest possible depths in order to receive the Torah on Mount Sinai and to rise to a new dimension. In any case, descent is sometimes dangerous. For example, a man who falls spiritually may totally forget the desire to rise.

However, ascent is also dangerous, perhaps more so. A person in continual spiritual ascent may completely forget the material world. Thus I would describe the "Ten Days of Awe" with the similar but opposite idiom: "Aliyah Letzorech Yeridah" ("Ascent for the sake of Descent").

Perhaps during these days we will reach the gates of the heavens. But the intention is to arrive there in order to be able to return to the earth with greater intensity.

We read in Parashat Nizzavim "It is not in heaven" (Deuteronomy 30:12). "Don't remain in the heavens!", says the Torah. The heavens are only a temporary dwelling place. Arrive there only to descend...

At the beginning of Parashat Vayetze the famous dream of Ya'akov appears.

"And he dreamt and behold a ladder set up on the earth and the top of it reached to heaven; and behold the angels of G-d ascending and descending on it" (Genesis 28:12).

Our rabbis already took note of this strange expression. We would expect the Torah to say "descending and ascending" and not "ascending and descending"! The angels live in the heavens, not on earth!

Perhaps the Torah wants to teach us that is the correct way during these Days of Awe when we try to don the garb of angels: "To ascend and to descend".

Avraham Avinu, who is the main character in the Torah readings of the High Holidays, is the perfect bridge between heaven and earth. He knows how to obey the commands of heaven, without forgetting the earth.

To say "Lech-Lecha is to say "Avraham Avinu". His first trial began with a "Lech Lecha" ("Get thee out of thy country") and his last trail began with another "Lech Lecha" ("Get thee into the land of Moriah).

The idiom "Lech Lecha" is composed of two letters (in Hebrew): the "Lamed" whose long neck reaches heaven and the final "Kaph" whose long leg stands on the earth. Avraham is the bridge between these two extremes "ascent for the sake of descent".

An old joke tells that Sherlock Holmes and Dr. Watson, the famous detective team, went out into nature. They lit a campfire, drank coffee and had a great time. When darkness fell, they went into their tent and fell asleep.

Sherlock Holmes awoke up before dawn very alarmed and woke up Dr. Watson.

"Lift your head to the heavens and tell me what you see", he said.

"I see millions of stars", answered Dr. Watson.

"And what is their significance?", asked Sherlock Holmes.

After deep thought, Dr. Watson answered: "From an astrological standpoint, the significance is that each man has different luck according to his star, from an astronomical standpoint, the significance is that the universe is enormous, from a statistical standpoint, it is reasonable to think that there are other worlds in this universe, and from a meteorological standpoint I say that it will rain here tomorrow".

"And what do you see?", asked Dr. Watson.

Sherlock Holmes made a face and said, "I see only one thing: from a practical standpoint, someone stole our tent".

The Torah warns us: "It is not in the heavens". The heavens are a temporary dwelling place and not a permanent home. Here, on earth, our attention is required.

May G-d grant that our ascent will indeed be for the sake of descent so that we may have a fruitful year and a year full of deeds.

May we be inscribed and sealed for a good year.

Nitzavim - Vayelech

2006-09-12T09:17:00.000+03:00

We were there
.

Rabbi Gustavo Surazski

On a flight to Buenos Aires I once met a man who embraced me as if I'd always known him. I looked at him, and he understood that he had made a mistake.
.

"I'm sorry," I said. "I don't know you." He blushed, but cleverly got himself out of an embarrassing situation by saying "Perhaps we met at the revelation at Mount Sinai. We were all there!"

The reaction of that Jew finds support in one of our Torah portion, Nitzavim, in which is described the renewal of the covenant that was made 40 years earlier at the foot of Mount Sinai.

"Not with you only do I make this covenant and administer this oath, but with him that stands here with us this day before the Lord our G-d, and also with him that is not here with us this day." (Deuteronomy 29, 13-14). Rashi explains: "And even with future generations."

In effect the Torah tells us that we were all there to the same extent as we all went out of Egypt and received the Torah. Throughout the generations Jews are born and live within a culture that teaches that we were all witnesses to the revelation, even those who became part of the Jewish religion later. This was a unique event, unparalleled in human history, that the entire Jewish people, from children to the aged, were privileged to meet G-d. All other claims to divine revelation in other cultures and other peoples are based on one man or on a limited group that received divine revelation.

This perception is revolutionary and incomprehensible to other peoples. Our neighbors and those that hold anti-Zionist views are sure that the Jewish people has no right to our land because most of us are not descendants of the inhabitants of the ancient land of Israel.

"Your place is in Russia, or Poland, or Rumania" they say to Jews of Ashkenazi origin. Not long ago an enemy of the Jews said that the Middle Eastern conflict will be resolved when we return to those places.

An interesting halachic issue deals with the same point. The Rambam was once asked by Ovadiah the convert, who had been born to a Christian family in Italy, if he was entitled to make the blessing and say "Our God and the God of our fathers" (Eloheinu Ve-Elohei Avotenu) or "That sanctified us with his commandments and commanded us" (Asher Kidshanu B'Mitzvotav V'Tzivanu) or "who has set us apart" (Asher Hivdilanu) or "who chose us" (Asher Bachar Banu) and so on.

The Rambam's answer was unambiguous. Whoever joins the Jewish people is a Jew in every sense, and he joins the Jewish heritage of generations, even if from a genetic point of view he does not belong. Even he who was not present was there. Whoever chose to join the Jewish people chose to be present at the revelation at Mount Sinai.

We all stood at the foot of Mount Sinai. For Mount Sinai is not simply a geographical site. Belonging to the Jewish people does not involve a DNA test.

Ki Tavo

2006-09-07T10:17:00.000+03:00

Recognizing the Good

Rabbi Gustavo Suraski

A millionaire left his office as usual at the end of a day's work and found a beggar asking him for charity.

"Ten shekels in the name of G-d", said the beggar. "I will soon be going to sleep and have not yet drunk a cup of coffee…".

The millionaire put his hand in his pocket, gave him a one hundred shekel note and said to him: "Take a hundred, so that you can drink not one, but ten cups of coffee".

The next day the same beggar was again waiting for the millionaire after work, and boxed him straight in his left eye.

"Tell me", the millionaire said, immediately recognizing him..."Are you crazy?! Only yesterday I gave you a hundred shekels so you could go to sleep with a little food in your stomach...and now you hit me?!".

Then the beggar said to him: "And who do you think can sleep after ten cups of coffee?!".

...................

"Todah Rabah" ("Thank you very much") is one of the first expressions every child (or even every new immigrant) learns to say. How often does a child hear the words "Say thank you"? And every parent knows that it's not enough to simply think it to yourself. We have to say it.

But knowing "how" to say "Thank you" and to feel the need to say "thank you" are two completely different things. Feeling and expressing thanks are difficult things to do.

The mitzvah of Bikurim, with which we begin the Torah portion of Ki Tavo, symbolizes the recognition of goodness. A Jew who is able to perform this mitzvah brings the first of his fruits to the Holy Temple in Jerusalem, where he presents them to the priest while professing his thanks to G-d for all the goodness He has shown him.

The traditionally accepted way in which we express our thanks to G-d for His goodness and forgiveness is called "Mikra Bikurim", and this is the opening line of the portion. "And now, behold, I have brought the first of the fruits of the soil, which Thou, O G-d, hast given me" (Deuteronomy 26, 10).

The expression of thanks is a central value in Jewish tradition, and here are some examples.

Firstly: The first word which every Jew is supposed to say when he wakes up in the morning is the word "Modeh" ("I give thanks to Thee, O living and eternal King, who hast restored my soul unto me in mercy: great is Thy faithfulness").

Secondly: We must always remember the meaning of the word "Jew". The word "Yehudi" (Jew) comes from the word "Hodaya" (thanksgiving). When Judah was born, his mother Leah said: "Now I shall give thanks to G-d" (Genesis 29, 35). We are expected to know when to express thankfulness.

Thirdly: It is written in the Midrash: "In the Time to Come all sacrifices will be annulled, but that of thanksgiving will not be annulled and all prayers will be annulled except for the thanksgiving prayer, which will never be annulled (Lev. Rabbah 9).

Recognizing the good and giving thanks were instituted by our Sages as a central aspect of our daily routine: not only "Modeh Ani" but also the blessing "Modim" in the three daily prayer services, and "Nodeh Lecha" in grace after meals. Saying "Thank you" rids a person of the idea that he deserves everything.

There are those who go about with the feeling that the whole world is always indebted to them. Therefore anything they receive is owed to them and there is absolutely no need to recognize it as good.

Fourth and last example: At the end of every "Amidah" prayer we have, as I have already mentioned, the blessing "Modim". On repeating the Amidah, when the cantor says "Modim Anachnu Lach" the congregation says in a whisper what is called "Modim De-Rabbanan". "Modim De-Rabbanan" is a blessing which was instituted by our Sages, just as all the blessing were instituted by them (actually the "Modim" which the cantor says was also compossed by our Sages).

So why the need for a double thanksgiving? Why don't we whisper a second version for the other Amidah blessings?

Rabbi David Abudraham says in his explanation for the Siddur that a representative can release us from all Amidah blessings, health blessing, blessing of making a living etc., but there is one thing that he cannot do in our name, no one can say "Thank you" instead of us.

There, the "Power of Attorney" held by the shaliach is no longer applicable.

Balak

2006-07-07T08:12:00.000+03:00

Opposite Ends

Rabbi Gustavo Surazski

Parashat Balak portion is one in which the hidden is in conflict with the visible. It deals with blessings and curses, magic, guessing and even a talking donkey. Nowadays, a film producer could take all of these elements and create a wonderful movie like "Shrek". But our portion is no less fascinating, where two out-and-out villains receive so much screen time.

Parashat Balak portion is the first since the beginning of Exodus in which the Prophet is not Moses, but a non-Jewish stranger by the name of Bilam ben Be'or. Balak , King of Moab, knew that our forefather Moses' and Israel's uniqueness lay in his power of speech, and hired a foreign magician by the name of Bilam to fight Israel using his voice, with a series of curses.

But...was Bilam really a prophet?

One of the main principles of the Jewish faith, which is included in the Hymn Yigdal, is "There hath never arisen in Israel a prophet like unto Moses". Based on this same principle the Midrash tells us: "None has arisen in Israel but one has arisen among the gentile nations. And who is it? It is Bilam Ben Be'or" (Sifrei Devarim 357).

This saying is rather controversial...how can one compare our forefather Moses to the evil Bilam? Is there a stronger antithesis in the world than that of these two characters?

The late Professor Y. Leibowitz Z"L offers in his book "Seven Years of Discussions on the Portion of the Week" the explanation of Rabbi Yeshaya Horowitz, also known as the "SHLA". He says: "Moses and Bilam are the right side (Sitra Di-Yeminah) and the left side (Sitra Di-Smolah) which arise from one supreme root".

What is the difference between left and right?

It is widely accepted in traditional commentary that the right side represents benevolence, and the left side judgement and brutality. The mystic saying of the SHLA becomes feasible and relevant when we apply it to our own reality.

The world is full of people who act in the name of heaven. But there are those who act on the right side of G-d and those on the left. There is a Moses and there is a Bilam.

The Lord "makes light and creates darkness". He is the source of inspiration for both the good and the bad in the world. The righteous believer can become an angel...and the evil believer can become the devil. In this world, more than a few people commit murder in the name of G-d, but more than a few also endanger their lives in the name of G-d. However, and this is the important thing, G-d is not neutral in this particular argument between good and evil, light and dark. He is not a passive spectator.

And, you may rightfully ask, how can He not be neutral if He himself created both light and darkness, good and bad?

An interesting answer appears in the Midrash in connection with the Creation of the world, and in particular, the creation of light and darkness: On the first day of Creation it was said "And G-d called the light Day, and called the darkness Night" (Genesis 1, 5).

Our sages analyzed the text and discovered that there is no full parallel between its beginning and its end. The text should have said: "and the darkness G-d called Night". Why isn't it written this way? Rabbi Eliezer said: "G-d never connects His Name with the evil, but rather with the good". What appears in the text is not "And G-d called the light Day, and G-d called the darkness Night", but rather "and called the darkness Night".

It is precisely during these times, when various fanatics want to bring us darkness and chaos in the name of G-d, we need to know exactly where they stand in the order of things: next to Bilam, hater of mankind and lover of strife, and to understand that even if they say so, G-d will never be on their side because " G-d never connects His Name with the evil"...nor with the darkness.

Korach

2006-06-20T11:10:00.000+03:00

Misguided Dreams

Rabbi Gustavo Surazski

Our Torah Portion deals with the terrible dispute that Korach began against Moses and Aaron, together with Datan, Aviram, On ben Pelet, and another 250 people, all people of renown.

This dispute was so terrible that the Mishna called it a dispute not for the sake of heaven (Avot 5, Mishna 17 ) because it left an impression and had an influence on disputes for generations to come.

After the dispute began, Moses called Datan and Aviram to come to him, and they refused to come. It is written: "And Moses sent to call Datan and Aviram, the sons of Eliav, who said, "We will not come. Is it a trifling matter that you brought us out of a land flowing with milk and honey to kill us in the wilderness, and that you make yourself a prince over us?"(Numbers 16, 12-13)

Moses was very angry and also hurt. That was not the way to answer. But what was so offensive here? Was it that they said, "We will not come"?

Everyone already knew that Datan and Aviram did not accept Moses' authority, so obviously they would not meet him half way. The offensive point was that they said that Egypt, and not Israel, was a land flowing with milk and honey.

People knew from the beginning of the journey through the desert that Datan and Aviram were not ardent Zionists, but until this point their attitude had not been expressed in declarations. After this incident, things changed. Egypt is the land flowing with milk and honey, not Israel. Egypt is the centre of the world, not Israel. Egypt is the ideal country of their dreams, not Israel.

That hurts!

The Talmud tells us about the first man, "His dust was gathered from all over the world." (Sanhedrin 38). Rav Oshaya tells us in the name of Rav that the first man's body was made of dust from Babylon and his head of dust from the land of Israel. In effect, it has always been like that. Even when our bodies were in exile, our heads and hearts were in Zion. That is our history as a people.

"My heart is in the east and I am in the far west," wrote Yehuda Halevi in Spain in the twelfth century. That is why the words of Datan and Aviram are so offensive. To hear a Jew say that the land of Israel is not the land of his dreams is a very sad event.

Shelach Lecha

2006-06-14T09:45:00.000+03:00

The Caleb Bridge

Rabbi Gustavo Surazski

There are only two Parshiot in the Torah that contain the word "Lecha" (Thee or Thou). The first Parasha is Lech Lecha ("Get Thee Out") which tells us of Abraham Avinu and his arrival to the Land of Canaan and the second one is Shelach Lecha ("Send Thou Men") which we read this week and tells us of the spies, the twelve representatives of the tribes sent to Canaan to report back to the people of the state of the country.

I would like to build a virtual bridge between the Lech Lecha of Abraham Avinu and the Shelach Lecha of Moshe Rabenu. We are actually speaking of two "Aliyot" (migrations to Israel) that are very different. Abraham did not arrive by himself to Canaan, he was accompanied by his wife, his brother's son Lot and "the souls that they had gotten in Haran". This was an idealistic migration, with a deep theological background, and its goal was to spread the words of G-D in the new Land.

The tale of the spies is totally different. The ideal does not exist for them. They lack the bravery of Abraham. They want to see, visit, compare, calculate and only then to decide. Abraham Avinu, settled in the Negev Desert even though he knew that the grounds of Sodom and Gomorrah were green and fruitful. But he preferred the desert. Lot, his brother's son only saw the bounty of the land.

We belong to the generation of which the potential migration to or from Israel is closer to that of the spies than of Abraham's. Our generation (most of it) thinks more on the lines of not what I can do for the country but what can the country do for me.

RaSHI brings an interesting example for the virtual bridge we built between Abraham and the spies. In the first few paragraphs of our weekly Parasha it says "And they went up into the south, and (he) came unto Hebron" (Numbers 13, 22). It is odd that the Torah doesn't have them both in plural ("they went up" and "They came to Hebron"). Why start in plural and end in singular?

RaSHI says "Caleb alone went there, and he prostrated himself on the graves of our patriarchs and matriarchs (in Hebron)".

RaSHI shows an interesting point. While the spies were collecting military reconnaissance, security and economics mission, Caleb came into the country by himself to visit the grave of Abraham the Idealist. While the spies toured the country under the prism of profitability, Caleb toured the country under the prism of belonging. It is a paradox that Caleb acted as Abraham amongst the spies and Lot acted as the spies while with Abraham.

Caleb (and Yehoshuah Bin Nun as well) saw the same as the other spies saw. They also saw the fierce people who dwelled in Canaan and the "children of the Anak" (Giants). But still Caleb stood and said, "We shall surely ascend and conquer it, for we can surely do it!" (Numbers 13, 30)

Both Caleb and Yehoshoah understood that the country wasn't perfect, but it is ours. This is the bridge between the "Realistic" and "Idealistic". Between Abraham's model and the spies model.

They are the bridge between the Lech Lecha and the Shelach Lecha.

Behaalotcha

2006-06-08T12:26:00.000+03:00

The most important Festival

Rabbi Gustavo Surazski

After three months of dealing with technical and ritual aspects of Halacha, the Torah returns in this week's portion to the more legendary style of Genesis and the beginning of Exodus. The portion of "Behaalotcha" includes the stories of the manna, Eldad and Medad, and the famous story of the Cushite woman that Moses had married.

My intention, however, is to return to an aspect of worship. Our portion raises the issue of the Pesach Sheni (The Second Passover). A group of Jews went to Moses and Aharon and asked them for a second opportunity to offer the Passover lamb. They knew that it was forbidden to prepare the offering while impure, and asked for permission to do so after they had been purified.

And they said to Moses and Aharon:

"Impure though we are by reason of a corpse, why must we be debarred from presenting the Lord's offering at its set time with the rest of the Israelites?" (Numbers 9, 7).

There are virtually no examples or precedents in Halacha for anything like this. (Perhaps one could compare this to the "Tefillat Tashlumim" as regards the rules of prayer). But this case is completely different. The second opportunity they wanted was not provided for with the Giving of the Law. There was only one Passover! This second chance was later granted simply because a group of Jews came and asked "why must we be debarred?". They demanded another opportunity to offer this festival sacrifice!

Almost no mention is made today, in any Jewish calendar, of this festival of the second Passover. True, it appears in all the calendars. But nothing very special is done on this date. We know not to say Tachanun on this date. There is also a popular custom among Hasidic communities to eat Matzah on the Pesach Sheni. But that is about all...

We do not have any other positive Mitzvah in the Torah which was initiated by the people and not by G-d. Even though they were absolved from performing the Mitzvah, they demanded a second opportunity, another chance. On this occasion, at least, the children of Israel reached a very high level of piety and devoutness.

Many things can be said about this desert generation. They were ingrates. They had a short memory. But here, on the issue of the second Passover, they proved that they were also virtuous. "Why must we be debarred?" they asked, "Why should we forfeit observing a Mitzvah?".

Perhaps this is why the second Passover, a festival which has virtually disappeared from the Jewish calendar, is actually the most important one of the entire year. It was established by both the initiative and the will of the children of Israel.

Naso

2006-05-30T11:38:00.000+03:00

A Midrash for Shavuot

The words of Torah are likened to water, as it is written, O all who thirst, come for water, (Is. 55:1)

Just as water goes from one end of the earth to the other, so does Torah go from one end of the earth to the other;
Just as water is a life source, so is Torah a source of life;
Just as water is free to all, so is Torah a free commodity;
Just as water comes from heaven, so too is the Torah's origin in heaven;
Just as water are given to the accompaniment of powerful thunderings, so is Torah given to the accompaniment of powerful thunderings;
Just as water quenches one's thirst, so does Torah satisfy the soul;
Just as water cleanses the body from impurity, so does Torah cleanse the soul;
Just as water originates in tiny drops and accumulates into mighty streams and rivers, so the Torah is acquired word by word today, verse by verse tomorrow;
Just as water descends from a high altitude, so does Torah depart from haughty individuals and remain in individuals who are humble and modest;
Just as water is not kept in silver or gold vessels, but the simplest [clay], so Torah is retained by those who are simple;
Just as a scholar is not embarrassed to ask a student, 'pass me some water,' a scholar is not embarrassed to learn from a student a chapter, a verse, a word, or even a letter;
Just as someone who does not know how to swim is drowned in water, so is Torah - if one doesn't know how to 'swim' one can drown in it. (Shir HaShirim Rabbah 1, Midrash Shocher Tov 1, Sifrei Devarim 48)

Take them also

Rabbi Gustavo Surazski

According to the well known tradition, the tribe of Levi was chosen to serve G-d after the sin of the golden calf when The Holy One was so disgusted with the first born that He decided to replace them with the one tribe that had not sinned, the tribe of Levi. The tribe of Levi served as the "wheels" of the Tabernacle, they took it apart, reassembled it and carried it during the long journey through the desert.

However, not everyone in the tribe of Levi had the same task. At the end of Parashat Bemidbar, which we read last week, the Torah described the tasks of the sons of Qehat, one of the three families of the tribe of Levi.

Our Parasha begins with the tasks of the sons of Gershon, another of the families of the tribe of Levi. During the journey of the Sons of Israel, the sons of Gershon were to carry the curtains that covered and protected the tabernacle together with the screens for the Tent of Meeting.

The sons of Qehat who were mentioned at the end of Parashat Bemidbar had a far more central task. They carried the ark and the table and the altars and all of the holy vessals.

Parashat Naso opens with the words: "And the Lord spoke to Moshe saying: Take also the sum of the sons of Gershon, by the houses of their fathers, by their families" (Bemidbar 4:21-22)

It would seem that there are two extraneous words in this opening sentence. Why does the Torah say "also"? Won't Moshe remember them? What is the meaning of these words?

Here is a much more mundane example. What about the football player whose team wins the world cup while he sat on the bench throughout the game? Has he won the championship to the same extent as those who actually played on the field?

The truth is that we must understand that peoples, communities (and football teams) are made up of different components with different places in the hierarchy. I imagine that the people of Israel looked upon the tribe of Levi as the chosen tribe. But the same phenomenon existed within the tribe as well. The sons of Gershon looked at the sons of Qehat as the chosen ones. The task of carrying the ark in public seemed much more central than the carrying of the curtains of the tabernacle and the screens of the Tent of Meeting.

People have a tendency to grant special importance to those who perform tasks rated highly in the hierarchy. However, the Holy One looks on from above and he sees groups of men who have in common a past, a present and most important, common goals.

There is a tale that once all the parts of the body went out on strike against the stomach. They claimed that they worked hard in order to feed the body, while the stomach just enjoyed the fruits of their labor. And so the hands decided not to bring food to the mouth. The mouth decided not to open. The teeth refused to chew. The throat refused to swallow. As a result, the whole body was weakened.

When the Holy One said about the sons of Gershon, "Take also the sons of Gershon", He was in effect saying "Don't think that their task is of secondary importance. For me there is no such thing. The people of Israel is a work force, resembling man's body, and not a number of individuals working together for different aims.

"Take also the sons of Gershon", said the Holy One.

For me there are no classes.
They all have their role to play.

Bemidbar

2006-05-24T12:21:00.000+03:00

Not just Statistics

Rabbi Gustavo Surazski

Maybe you know the joke about the teacher who wanted to catch out a pupil in front of the class. She asked him to stand up and asked him a very difficult question in Mathematics. The boy knew the answer. The teacher asked, "And where is Zimbabwe?" The boy knew that too. "In what year did Colombia declare independence?" Again the boy gave the right answer. "Tell me," continued the teacher, "How many people live in China?". The boy thought for a moment and said, "One milliard, 300 million, 600 thousand, 281." Then the teacher said, "Names! I want names!".

.....

We know well how important our name is in our identity. Our name gives us uniqueness, a special place in society. For example, a slave is just a slave, cheap labour.

At the beginning of the Book of Numbers (Bemidbar) Moses is commanded to count the people of Israel again so as to know their number: "Take the sum of all the congregation of Israel by their families, by their fathers' houses, according to the number of names; all adult males" (Numbers 1, 2). This is the third census within a year since the exodus from Egypt.

The first commentary of RaSHI on this portion says: Because they are dear to G-d, He counts them again and again. When they left Egypt, He counted them. When they succumbed to the temptation of the calf, He counted them to know how many remained. When He caused the divine presence to dwell among them, He counted them. On the first of Nissan the tabernacle was erected and on the first of Iyar He counted them.

Reading the data of the census that appears in our portion is boring only to the reader. But to those who were counted the census returns their names, their identities and their honour.

That is where the love lies, according to RaSHI.

A poor man counts coins, for example, because each coin is precious to him. A child counts candies to know how many he has to eat. The nobility count their horses so as to show their wealth. However, here we speak of a much deeper affection. G-d doesn't count His sons just to know how many He has or how many remain, but also so that each one will feel special. He wants to emphasise the importance of each individual after the hard and bitter experience of slavery in Egypt.

A census is not only statistics.

Emor

2006-05-11T09:19:00.000+03:00

The Omer Ladder

Rabbi Gustavo Surazski

This Devar Torah is dedicated Le-Ilui Nishmat Michael Lapides Z"L

Forty-nine days pass between the exodus of the Children of Israel from Egypt and the revelation of Sinai and receiving of the Torah. This seven-week journey, entitled "The Counting of the Omer", is mentioned in our portion, Emor.

At this time of year the people of Israel undergo a process of preparation for the giving of the Torah, a process of breaking away from the Egyptian defilement and entering a life of purity. According to our sages, the people of Israel in Egypt had sunken into a process of spiritual degeneration.

With each passing day the nation of Israel frees itself of another layer of impurity, forty-nine in total, and instead of being deep in sin we ascend to the gates of holiness.

But within this bridge between Passover and Shavuot there is something else which is deep and thought-provoking even in the present-day reality. Passover is a festival of freedom and physical redemption. But there is no finality to this redemption, it is rather a step towards the spiritual rejuvenation realized at Mount Sinai. Just as the bridegroom counts the days until he may unite with his bride, the nation of Israel counts the days which separate between physical redemption of the nation and spiritual redemption.

During this past festive week, between barbeques and hot coals, I have given a lot of thought to this same point. For there is, in fact, a parallel situation with our Independence Day (Yom Ha-Atzmaut). Independence is obviously a positive thing. But, as a society, do we have a spiritual agenda? As a state, are we really a "light unto the nations"? Is independence part of a greater process, or do we already see it as the end?

Rabbi Moshe Garelik refers, in his book "Parashah U-Fishra", to that bridge known as "the Counting of the Omer", which connects the freedom of the body with that of the soul:

"The sons of the desert generation, through this counting, reduced the festival of Passover from its independent standing and transformed it into the forerunner of the festival of Shavuot. This is how the bridge and the connection between these two festivals came into being. The counting unified them and taught them not to separate national material redemption from spiritual redemption. The former does not exist without the latter.

The actual existence of the nation's redemption is in danger if it sees itself as the final purpose and as the most important thing of all. Many revolutions have weakened because of the fatigue of their heroes, who believed that they had reached the end of the road and that there was nothing further to which to aspire. The stability of many countries which had finally achieved independence was destroyed because all that remained were relentless power struggles between the liberators.

The counting of the Omer says "NO" to what has been achieved. It sees the exodus from Egypt as a stage, an important and valuable stage, but not to be exchanged for the process itself, the ladder for spiritual ascent and human perfection presented in the Torah of the Festival of Shavuot".

May we, too, be empowered to bridge this gap and ascend the ladder step by step towards the spiritual vision which would complete us as a society.

Achare-Kedoshim

2006-05-04T09:11:00.000+03:00

Windows to the Soul

Rabbi Gustavo Suraski

This Devar Torah is dedicated Le-Ilui Nishmat
Fanny bat Baruch VeSara Chacham Z"L

The commandment to observe the Sabbath appears in the first verses of the Parasha: "You shall fear every man his mother and his father and keep my Sabbaths." (Leviticus 19:3).

The observance of Shabat is much more than a religious imperative, it is a spiritual need.

A few weeks ago, a member of the congregation who has started coming regularly to Shabat services told me how crucial it is for her to finish the week and enter the atmosphere of Shabat with us, with the congregation (even though she defines herself as "secular").

And she is right.

The concept of Shabat is so crucial to Jewish tradition that we remember it every day even though we may not be aware of it.

In the ancient world the days were named after the stars. This appears in several modern languages. Sunday is named after the sun, Monday after the moon and Saturday after Saturn. (In Spanish Wednesday, "Miercoles", is named after Mercury).

But in Hebrew the situation is completely different. We have "Yom Rishon" (the first day after Shabat), "Yom Sheni" (the second day after Shabat), "Yom Shlishi" (the third day after Shabat) etc. In effect, each day we note how many days have passed since the previous Shabat and how many days are left until the next Shabat.

Why is Shabat so essential, even to those who describe themselves as "secular"?

In this day and age, people are more concerned with the health of the body than with the health of the spirit. The truth of the matter is that after all the tensions of the week we reach Shabat in a state of "spiritual pollution".

But how does the soul become polluted? It is easy to understand and discuss pollution in the Kishon River or air pollution, but...the soul? How?

This is my opinion. Our body has seven "windows". It is through these "windows" that the soul breathes, lives and relates to the world. These windows are all located in our heads. There is the window of the mouth. Two windows in the nose, two in the eyes and two in the ears. The "pollution" of the week enters through these windows in the same way that sand enters through the windows of the house during a sandstorm.

When we make "Havdalah" at the end of Shabat, we dedicate a blessing to each of these "windows". First to the mouth when we bless the wine. Secondly, we bless and smell the spices dedicating a blessing to the nose. Then comes the for the candle dedicated to the eyes and finally we hear the blessing of "Havdalah" which is dedicated to our ears. These blessings are in effect a gift and a shield for these very same senses just at the moment when a new week is beginning and pollution again finds its way into the depth of the soul.

In another week Shabat will arrive. I regret to say that I do not think that the coming week will be free of tensions and pressures. I do not think that the news we hear every evening will be particularly good…

But at least Shabat will arrive again, this gift of twenty five hours that erase a large amount of the pollution in our souls and improve our spiritual state. As is written in the Hagaddah of Passover, "If he had given us only the Shabat, it would have been sufficient.".

Pesach

2006-04-10T09:06:00.000+03:00

Pictures of the Past

Rabbi Gustavo Surazski

A few days ago I was looking, together with a relative, at some digital photographs of my daughter since birth. "Say, Gustavo," he asked, "does she always smile in photographs?"

Actually, no. She knows how to cry a lot. And also, when you photograph her, she sometimes closes her eyes, and sometimes looks tense or irritable, or angry. But (this is the advantage of digital cameras) if we don't like the picture, we simply erase it.

I sometimes miss those days when we used to go to a store to develop pictures, and out of 24 there were 5 with closed eyes, another 7 with red eyes, 2 completely blank and 10 which were...reasonable. True, we threw money away. But at least those pictures represented our lives more accurately.

We don't always smile and radiate (in fact, most of the time we don't). There are two faces to life. Sometimes our pictures are not as good as we wanted them to be. Sometimes we see a picture and feel annoyed: "Hey, I was so young", or "thin", or "I used to have hair." But what can we do?...That's how life is.

A similar thing happens when we talk about pictures, not of people, but of a nation. Sometimes nations look at pictures of the past, see something unpleasant in them, and decide to wipe it out.

Why remember the unpleasant things? Why keep in our memories those pictures which represent the dark side of our lives? These nations are convinced that the best way to deal with their misdeeds of the past is to erase them from their collective memory! (These same nations would appreciate the invention of the digital camera).

But other nations, and I say this with great pride, like our nation, are convinced that wiping out the pictures of the past is a cowardly and sick practice. Our sages taught us that the story of the Hagadah should be told in the form of "first disgrace and then praise ("matchilim bige'nut u'mesaymim bi'shevach"), starting with the bad and ending with the good.

"You want to celebrate?", they ask us.
"Is the gefilte fish tasty?". "Grandma's soup smells good?"

Wait. Start with the bad. Do not erase the past! Remember the suffering, the tears, the cries, the blood, the agony. There are thorns in our past too.

During the Festival of Passover every year we learn that our nation must not live with a selective approach to our past. "We were slaves to Pharoah in Egypt." That is not a pleasant thing. It is even humiliating. But that is the story of our nation.

There are pictures which we must never erase.

VaYikra

2006-03-30T12:24:00.000+02:00

The Steps of Moses
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Rabbi Gustavo Surazski
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In 1997 I visited the Schocken Institute in Jerusalem and held an ancient manuscript in my hand. It was a Siddur from the fifteenth century. The quality of the manuscript was excellent. I managed to read the Kriat Shema and the blessings, the Amidah and nearly all the parts of the prayers except for one page which was black and looked burnt. I asked Prof. Shmuel Glick, who heads the Institute, to explain why it was so. He told us that the black page contained the Havdalah prayers. The Jews who had used it had held the candle above the page and the hot wax had ruined it.

Even inadvertently we leave traces in our books. We can hold the Pesach Haggada, smell it, and remember last year's menu. Who has not seen Grandmother's soup stains in a Haggada? Traces of our experiences remain on the page.

If we pick up any siddur, we can tell which pages were opened most during the years. There will be a yellowish tinge and some pages will be more noticeable than others.

Also in our portion, VaYikra, there is a similar phenomenon. As soon as we begin, in the first word of the portion, we will notice a small letter Aleph in the word VaYikra. That small aleph is a sign that Moshe, too, left his mark on the Torah.

Why do I tell you this?

The Torah tells us that when Moshe descended from Mount Sinai to give the Torah to the people of Israel, his face shone and he radiated light.

Why?

When he reached the beginning of the third book and heard the word VaYikra from G-d, he was not so enthusiastic. Baal Haturim says that Moshe did not want to write the word VaYikra but rather the word VaYikar, as in the matter of Balaam, as though it was only a chance occurrence that God appeared to him. In the end the Lord and Moshe reached a compromise and Moshe wrote a small Aleph. He transferred the ink that remained in his pen to his head and from that he received the radiance.

And why did Moshe feel discomfort towards the letter aleph? Because aleph is the first letter of the word ani, meaning "I"; that is, the ego. Modest Moshe decided to minimize the aleph. He saw himself as small and humble, not as great and important.

Those are the steps of Moshe left on the Torah. That small Aleph is the signature of the prophet.

Tetzave - Zachor

2006-03-08T09:43:00.000+02:00

Brain Gym

Rabbi Gustavo Surazski

Remember what Amalek did unto thee by the way at your coming forth out of Egypt; how he met thee by the way and smote the hindmost of thee, all that were feeble behind thee, when thou wast faint and weary; and he feared not G-d. And it shall not come to pass, when the Lord thy G-d giveth thee rest from all thy enemies round about, in the land which the Lord thy G-d giveth thee for an inheritance to possess it, that thou shalt blot out the rememberance of Amalek from under the heavens; thou shalt not forget. (Deuteronomy 25, 17-19)

There seems to be an internal contradiction within the portion "Amalek" in Sefer Devarim. On the one hand we are commanded to wipe out the memory of Amalek under heaven. On the other, we are ordered to remember what he did on our way out of Egypt. If we erase, how can we remember? If we remember, how can we have erased?

In any event, we know that two completely different commandments are contained in the same portion. The first is the eradication of the memory of Amalek under heaven, meaning the physical eradication of any remaining descendants of that nation. The second is the memory itself, that mitzvah carried out every year upon reading this weekly Sabbath portion "Zachor".

But, in any case, the first mitzvah has long been described as one which we are unable to fulfill in our time. Aside from the ethical issue involved in this mitzvah due to the demand to destroy an entire nation, the Mishnah testifies in Masechet Yadayim that there is no possibility at all of identifying Amalek and therefore no way of destroying him ("King Sancheriv of Ashur rose up and confused all the nations").

So how can we fulfill this mitzvah today? We cannot.

Still, there are customs connected to this mitzvah in various ways. When I was studying a course for Torah Scribes in Jerusalem ten years ago, and we reached the lesson on erasing, the teacher wrote the word "Amalek" on a piece of parchment and taught us how to erase on it. He claimed that he, too, had learnt the secrets of erasing in this same way. The custom of using rattles when saying the word "Haman" while reading the Megilla on Purim is also connected in some way to the same Mitzvah of wiping out the memory of Amalek. We know that, according to Sefer HaManhig (Provence, the 12th century) that children in France and Provence used to write the word "Haman" (one of Amalek's descendants) on pebbles and knock them together while reading his name in the Megilla in order to drown it out. Also, the expression "Ymach Shemo VeZichro" (May his name and his memory be erased) recited after recalling the names of Israel's enemies originates in the same mitzvah.

However, on this Shabbat, the emphasis is on remembering and not erasing.

The word "Zachor" (Remember) is so central in Jewish tradition that we have a deeply meaningful custom which causes us to exercise the power of remembrance after every morning's prayers. Every person in Israel should recite these six remembrances every day while reading the appropriate portions of the Torah : The remembrance of the exodus from Egypt, the remembrance of the revelation on Mount Sinai, the attack of Amalek and the command to erase his memory, the remembrance of what our Fathers to G-d in the desert, the punishment of Miriam for slandering Moses, and the remembrance of the Sabbath

Why is this so important? Why does the word "Zachor" (Remember) appear so many times in the Torah? Why do we have so many mitzvot connected to memory?

Simply because the brain is like any other muscle in our body which must be exercised in order to preserve it. All of these mitzvot serve as "Brain Gym" which develops our memories. Cars need fuel to enable them to be driven. Plants need water to grow. Electronic instruments need electricity to function…And nations need the power of memory in order to survive.

This Shabbat is one of "Brain Gym".

Shemot

2006-01-20T09:54:00.000+02:00

The Eternal Burning Bush

Rabbi Gustavo Surazski

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I would like to share with you two events I took part in a few years ago.

Five years ago we celebrated the entering of a new "Sefer Torah" in my synagogue in Buenos Aires. The Torah was written in the United States and send by air to Argentina. I went to the airport to pick it up and take it home with me until the day of celebration.

The custom secretaries looked at the "odd book" and asked me what it was. I explained to them the basics as to what it was about, and they determined that it was to fall under the category of antiques. They said: "Just like an old Swiss watch from the 18th century, Mr. Surazski. That will be 2% tax charge".

That was a great deal of money, but not the important point. It was a matter of jewish pride. Is it possible that our Torah would be categorized as an antiquity? I wanted to explain to her about the "Eternal Burning Bush" as written in our portion this week. I wanted to explain to her that the sound of the Shofar, when the Torah was handed down to us, can still be heard. But I was sure she wouldn't understand.

The second event took place five years ago. My wife and I were on our honeymoon in New York. We were looking for a synagogue near our hotel to pray in on Shabbat. I asked a near by Kosher Chinese restaurant owner where I could find one in the neighborhood. The owner, a young orthodox man, asked me if I wanted to pray in a Conservative, Reform or an Orthodox synagogue (I thought it sounded funny to have been given so many options, but realized a restaurant owner was used to producing a menu). Then he said that there was a very nice one that wasn't far. "And there is another one that is very old right next door, BUT don't go there". He continued to say: "It looks like a museum, many tourists visit and not all are jewish. It might very well be that if you went there you would be the only one with a Siddur".

And I think, if we let ourselves think of a Torah as an antiquity or of a synagogue as a museum that we are signing our own death certificate as a people. If we think that the only reason to celebrate a Brit, a Bar-Mitzvah or a Chuppah is because it will make our father or grandfather happy, our end is near...

When our Torah tells us of G-ds revelation to Moses by the "Eternal Burning Bush" it is not a description to a situation. It represents the challenge that stood before us then, and remains standing before us now. Not to let our Torah be categorized as an antiquity, like a Swiss watch. Not to let us be considered as passive strangers in our synagogues. Not to turn our back to tradition and leave it to others to watch over it.

The "Eternal Burning Bush" does not only refer to the bush...it refers to us. It is a calling out to the "Children of Israel" of all generations to be active players of our tradition and not passive bystanders...

The "Eternal Burning Bush" it is not just a cliché, it's a mission.

Va-Yechi

2006-01-13T11:49:00.000+02:00

Aryeh King of Israel

Rabbi Gustavo Surazski

For the past week we have been praying for the recovery of the Prime Minister of Israel, Ariel Sharon, and concerned for his well-being. The man who acquired questionable fame a few years ago based on his military achievements, has today become one of the most admired leaders that Israel has known since the inception of the State. And an explanation for the change in public opinion might be found in this week's portion.

"Like a lion's whelp, O Judah," is written in the Torah (Genesis 49, 9). "The sceptre shall not depart from Judah, nor a lawgiver from between his feet" his father blesses him. Two questions arise from this blessing given to Judah...

Firstly: Why did God choose Judah to rule? (The house of David and the Messiah descended from him.) Why not his first-born, Reuben? Or Joseph (who had at least gained some experience under the King of Egypt)?

Secondly: Why was Judah compared to a lion (Aryeh)?

As to Judah as a choice, we can see at the beginning of the portion "Vayigash" how he tried to free his brother Benjamin from captivity under Joseph. We have already stated last week that according to the Midrash he was ready for both conflict and reconciliation. He was prepared to be a pacifist and also a fighter. He was prepared to be a man of compromise and also a military leader.

As to the second question, here is a wonderful parable from the book "Doresh Tov Le-Amo":

...The animals sought a king and turned to the tiger, saying: "The tiger's strength is in his loins and he is cruel, and all the animals will fear him". The fox replied, "The tiger may be the most terrifying of all the animals, but sometimes the king also needs a measure of mercy and compassion...for if he always rules by cruelty, what will become of us?" The animals said: "If that is the case, we will appoint the lamb as king, for there is none more merciful and forgiving as he." The fox replied: "The lamb may excel in the measure of his compassion, but a king also needs courage and thus there is no better to choose as our king than the lion, who knows how to spare when he is not hungry and to show his strength in times of war...".

We expect exactly the same qualities in a political leader. To understand that there is "a time for war" and also "a time for peace", and most importantly of all, when necessary, to know how to show uncompromising courage as well as the compromise of heroes.

Vayishlach

2005-12-16T10:23:00.001+02:00

A Struggle of Conscience

Rabbi Gustavo Surazski

The weekly portion describes one of the first fights in human history. It was the mighty clash between a mortal and a heavenly creature, and it was clear from the start that the former stood no chance of winning.

On the one side of the battleground was Jacob our father, a simple tent dweller...
On the other, an angel of G-d who had descended from heaven...

Jacob struggled with the angel through the last watch of a long, dark night. There was no crowd to cheer or jeer as in modern day fights. There was no direct T.V. coverage or advertising nor a referee. This was a completely different kind of fight. The fight ended at daybreak and the description of the fight is sparse. The Torah records only a very heavy and effective blow that Jacob sustained on his thigh, causing him to limp for the rest of his days.

Jacob struggled with the angel through the night, and was even injured, but it was he who triumphed in the end. The angel himself testified to Jacob's victory: "Not Jacob shall any more be called thy name, but Israel, for though hast striven with G-d and with men, and hast prevailed" (GENESIS XXXIII, XXIX).

And yet, paradoxically, the winner of the contest was the one who left the battlefield injured. He was the one limping from the thigh while the vanquished returned to heaven healthy and intact.

How can we say that that the injured party won the battle and the loser returned home safe and sound?

It is quite possible to interpret Jacob's victory in a different way. It is clear to us all that the winner is not the one who receives the least blows. If this were the case Jacob would have been the loser. Jacob's victory rests in the fact that he knew how to fight against all the odds even if exposed to blows and terrible wounds.

However, it is likely that he did not fight only with a real being, but also with the "Esau" who was on his mind (our sages already testify that Jacob fought that night with "Esau's guardian angel"). It is quite possible that he wrestled that night with his own conscience and with the doubts in his heart...Perhaps there was some process of repentance and purification during that struggle following the incidents which separated the two brothers.

When we wrestle with our past sins and our fears for the future, we always emerge strengthened, even if we were battered in the process. In a struggle such as this, victory is sweet, even if we are maimed and scarred.

The fact that the name which Jacob received after the struggle (Israel) shows his talent in fighting ("for thou hast striven") and there is no reference at all to his victory. Perhaps he could have been given another name, like "Gabriel" ("for thou hast defeated G-d).

But the emphasis is on the struggle rather than on the victory. Because a battle over essential issues, like the one Jacob endured that night against his own conscience, is a victory in itself.

Vayetze

2005-12-09T10:11:00.000+02:00

Reaching for Heaven

Rabbi Gustavo Surazski

A third of man's life is devoted to dreaming. Thus, a man in his sixties has already dreamt for twenty years. How unique can one dream be?

And Ya'akov went out from Beer Sheva, and went toward Haran. And he lighted on a certain place and tarried there all night because the sun was set; and he took of the stones of that place and put them under his head. And he dreamed and behold a ladder set up on the earth and the top of it reached to heaven; and behold the angels of G-d ascending and descending on it. And behold the Lord stood above it and said 'I am the Lord G-d of Avraham thy father and the G-d of Yitzhak. the land on which thou liest to thee I will give it, and to thy seed ... (Genesis 28:10-12)

Over the years, hundreds of interpretations have been given to Ya'acov's dream. The Midrash says that in Gematria the word "Ladder" (Sulam) equals 130 as the word "Sinai" (B'reshit Rabba 68,13). By showing him a ladder in his dream, G-d hinted "If your descendents keep the Torah, then they will ascend in the same way that the angels ascended, but if they desert the Torah, then they will descend in the way that the angels descended".

However, this dream has additional repercussions. It is possible that the ladder is Ya'acov himself and the angels that ascend and descend represent Ya'acov's entry into maturity. Until this point, our father Ya'acov has been shown as an adolescent seeking his identity. Sometimes he appears as young, lacking experience and hesitant while at other times he appears as brave and enterprising.

After the dream, Ya'acov takes a vow saying "If G-d will be with me and will keep me in this way that I go, and will give me bread to eat and clothes to wear, so that I come back to my father's house in peace, then the Lord shall be my G-d..."
(Genesis 28:20-1)

Until now, Ya'acov has shown himself to be cunning and exploitative. He knew how to obtain his brother's birthright, he also attained his father's blessing by unfair means, and it seems that he thought that he could exploit G-d as well. Ya'acov's vow is a kind of provocation: "Lord of the world...if you protect me, then you'll gain my belief". However, Ya'acov understands very quickly that there is a lot more to learn. He comes to know his uncle Lavan who is in a totally "different league" of exploiters. Lavan "pulls the wool over his eyes" intentionally and gives him his older daughter (Leah) instead of Rachel whom Ya'acov loves.

Who knows, perhaps this is the turning point in Ya'acov's life. Ya'acov discovers the taste of integrity and decency, establishes a family and his economic status. Ya'acov begins to ascend the rungs of the ladder and understands that cunning may very well come back as a boomerang, blow for blow. After twenty years, Ya'acov faces up to his father-in-law and announces his intention to return to the Land of Ca'anan.

The foot of the ladder was on the earth and the top reached the heavens. G-d was stationed on it and waited for him...He expected Ya'acov to ascend, the completion of the process of maturing.

One third of man's life is devoted to dreaming. Come let us use the remaining two thirds so that we may ascend the ladder of our lives.

Toldot

2005-12-02T09:55:00.000+02:00

The Brawn and the Brain

Rabbi Gustavo Surazski

When we consider strange phenomena in the field of genetics, we can think of Jacob and Esau, the heroes of this Torah portion. How is it possible for twins to be so different?

One was hairy (Esau) and the other smooth (Jacob). One (Esau) was "a cunning hunter, a man of the field" while the second (Jacob) was "a plain man, dwelling in tents". Esau's strength was in his hands while Jacob's strength was in his voice.

The birth of those twins was not only the beginning of their lives but also the beginning of a new era in the history of man. Jacob and Esau are the archetypes of two completely different world views: the world of physical power and the world of the mind; the world of the sword and the world of the voice.

One can be the son of Esau as a parent and also as a spouse, and one can be Jacob's son as a teacher and also as a nation. If my soul is controlled by force, I am Esau's son, but if it is controlled by my mind, I am Jacob's.

It is true that power and the sword arouse fear and respect, but the brain and the voice have the potential of eternity.

"The voice is Jacob's voice but the hands are the hands of Esau." (Genesis XXVII, 22) That was Isaac's reaction after feeling his son Jacob. Why didn't Isaac manage to recognize him?

The reason lies not only in Isaac's blindness nor only in the fact that Rebecca dressed Jacob's hands in goatskin. In my opinion there is another, more important reason.

Isaac did not recognize Jacob because Jacob had lost his identity. The moment he took on Esau's hands, he lost his identity. He had the voice but also the hands. He had the mind but now he also had the power.

We, the descendants of Jacob, have undergone a similar process since the establishment of the state. After thousands of years of physical weakness, we too became able to use our hands (and we are all proud of that). After thousands of years during which we heard strength only in our voice, we became a strong nation also in the military sense. After thousands of years of writing books and creating prayers, we became arms exporters.

Now we have strong hands, and that's good, because without them we would not survive as a nation. But for all that, today the people of Israel are experiencing a deep identity crisis. Our hands have become so necessary that we have forgotten the power of the voice. And there are still many who think it is possible to improve our world and restore our security only through force.

But force threatens the mind. As soon as we see might as an end and not as a means, it becomes destructive. Let us not forget that if we need to use our hands, it is only so as to safeguard our voice, the voice of Jacob.

Lech Lecha

2005-11-11T09:09:00.000+02:00

Stars and Comets

Rabbi Gustavo Surazski

I would like to speak today about a man who was a real "zero". (Perhaps the Yiddish expression defining a person as "Gurnisht" would be more appropriate.) The person that I am referring to is Lot, a man with a great pedigree, the Patriarch Abraham's nephew.

According to the Midrash (Bereshit Rabbah, 41:6) Lot was similar to Abraham in appearance (in the words of the Midrash: "of like countenance") and in other ways as well:

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They were both born in the same place.
They were both born into the same family.
They were both shepherds with flocks of sheep and herds of cattle, and were tent dwellers.

Aside from this, however, they were as different as the distance between east and west.

Suddenly, a dispute arose:

"And there was a strife between the herdsmen of Abram's cattle and the herdsmen of Lot's cattle. And the Canaanite and the Perezzite dwelt then in the land. And Abram said unto Lot: "Let there be no strife, I pray thee, between me and thee, and between my herdsmen and thy herdsmen; for we are brethren. Is not the whole land before thee? Separate thyself, I pray thee, from me; if thou wilt take the left hand, then I will go to the right; or if thou take the right hand, then I will go to the left" (Genesis 13:7-9)

Lot looked towards Sodom and Gomorrah and saw, verdant, fragrant, fertile land. Why should he pay any attention to their citizens?

There he would raise his daughters, among the corruption and crime...Was this of any importance when it was a place to make money?

Yes, absolutely. But he thought only of the future of his flocks and herds.

Abraham distanced himself and remained with his wife and the members of his household in the Land of Canaan, perhaps less fertile, but sufficient for raising his sons.

And so I say that Lot was truly a zero, or "gurnisht". Perhaps he was meant to be a man of greatness, in the fashion of the Patriarch Abraham, but his set of priorities was wrong:

Sheep and cattle in first place - daughters in second place.
Money in first place - education in second place.

Sodom and Gomorrah were, from his perspective, the place to realize his dreams.

Who today remembers Lot? What mark did Lot leave on the history of mankind in general, or on Judaism in particular?

I once read that there are people who are compared to stars, and others who are compared to comets.

Comets pass. They appear and are remembered on distant occasions. Stars are always in view.

There are many people who can be compared to comets; perhaps even Lot is one of them. They pass through life and leave behind no mark.

But there are only a few who can be compared to stars, remembered constantly throughout the years.

Lot was the complete opposite of our father Abraham...a comet as opposed to an eternal star. (It was no accident that G-d took Abraham outside to look at the stars.)

So much alike, yet so different. So close, yet so distant.

What was done with his pedigree? Not everyone is from the house of our Patriarch Abraham, but Abraham adopted Lot, just like a son!

Lot is one of the first characters in the Bible with a great pedigree that didn't succeed in taking advantage of it.

Abraham was the teacher of that generation. Everyone learned from his ways and measures, except Lot.

A great pedigree doesn't necessarily insure "expected results" or a "praiseworthy product".

There is a tale of a man who went to visit his rabbi.

He was suspected of fraud and theft, and thought that the rabbi could help put an end to his troubles. The rabbi received him into his office, looked at him and asked: "Who are you?".

This same man answered the rabbi that he was from the family of one of the great rabbis and scholars, and that even his father was an exalted rabbi.

The rabbi looked at him again and said: "I asked 'Who are you', not 'Who is your father'...!".

Sometimes, even if your father is a "ten", you can still be a "zero".

Even if you are from the house of the Patriarch Abraham, you can still be "gurnisht". Relations never confer rights.