1. What Have You Sacrificed? - by Rabbi Shaya Deitsch - Arutz Sheva

In the commentary on this week’s Torah portion, our Sages tell us that a gift of wood on the altar may constitute a valid sacrificial offering. The actual passage describes an elaborate meal-offering, enhanced by fine flour, oil and frankincense, "a sweet savor unto the L-rd." So why would a mere piece of wood be an acceptable substitute?

The answer is in the meaning of the sacrifice itself. An animal, or a meal, or any other offering was only a substitute for oneself, a symbol of the intent to offer yourself to G-d. If you wholly give up your ego and offer your entire being, then a piece of wood is as proper a symbol as anything else.

Not long ago, we mentioned the moving story of a Jewish community isolated in a mountainous region of Russia, cut off from the rest of the world´s Jews, denied for decades any holy books, yet practicing their tradition in the way that had been passed down for generations. Last December, an even more amazing story came out of the Far East. A group of American college students traveled there as tourists. They also visited the expatriate Jewish community in Beijing, a group of Western people also keeping alive their tradition. Then the students went off the beaten track and sought out Kaifeng, where they had read of an ancient Jewish community that grew up around the silk trade 1,000 years ago. For hundreds of years this group thrived, maintaining its contact with the rest of the Jewish people through the trading culture. However, about 150 years ago, a massive flood of the Yellow River destroyed the synagogue. Their rabbi passed away. Then came civil war in China. Kaifeng was overrun and the Jewish community, for all practical purposes, destroyed.

The students visited the region hoping to find some remnants, a relic or two testifying to the existence of their ancient relations. Instead, they found "Moshe," a Chinese Jew, and a small group with "a very strong sense of identity" about being Jewish. Imagine for a moment what it would take for your faith to survive in such an atmosphere. In a country that has been communist and anti-religious for decades. In a town cut off from all knowledge of your brethren, from all Western influence. In dire poverty. Yet these few souls insist on having their identity cards read "Yotai ren" - Jewish person.

Their sacrifices, unfortunately, have not been voluntary. Yet, despite their situation, the light of their faith has continued to burn. You need not offer up even a piece of wood as a sacrifice. Your soul will be enough.

The Talmud poses the question why it is forbidden to eat or posses chametz, leaven, such as bread, on Pesach (Passover). What is there in the nature of leaven that it should be forbidden on Pesach? Why is matza (unleavened bread) the most desirable food for Pesach?

Instead of providing us with a straight answer, the Talmud responds by asking still another question: Why do people sin altogether? Understanding that people will continue to transgress, the Talmud tries to analyze the paradoxical situation in which many people find themselves due to Man’s desire to do good and his constant encounter with his evil inclination. Realizing that this inclination is difficult to overcome, it suggests that human beings, and especially Jews, should make the following declaration whenever they try to obey the laws of the Torah, but fail to do so:

"L-rd of the Universe, it is well known to You that it is our desire to do Your will, but what prevents us? The yeast in the dough."

The expression "the yeast in the dough" is well known in the Talmud. It is the description for the evil impulse in human beings. That which is responsible for "all ferment in the human heart" and why man does not always behave the way he should. We now understand the circuitous answer the Talmud provides to the original question concerning the reasons why it is forbidden to possess or consume leaven on Pesach. Leaven is, after all, used to cause the yeast in the dough to rise and in a literal sense it is exactly that which also causes bread to become bread, which is forbidden on Pesach. In other words, it is the most distinct symbol of the cause of all human transgressions.

This however begs the question. Why is the evil inclination symbolized by leaven? What does leaven do wrong that it should be used as the symbol for the evil urge in man?

A closer look however reveals a most fascinating idea. Bread, chametz, is blown up matza. It is matza that went overboard and got wild. What, after all, is the essential difference between the two? They are made from exactly the same ingredients. It is only the length of baking time that makes the difference between them. If the dough is baked quickly you get matza; however, if the dough is left for a while, it will rise and, after being baked, turns into bread.

The only real difference between the two is, therefore, hot air. An ingredient of no real substance. It is this ‘insubstantial substance’ which makes bread look powerful in comparison to matza. It rises, becoming haughty, making the impression that it consists of a great amount of substance and abundance, while in reality it mainly consists of hot air. The matza, however, is humble, there is no attempt to make more of itself than what it really contains: plain dough. Bread, then, is an ‘arrogant’ matza. It is for this reason that it symbolizes the evil inclination, since it is the attitude of haughtiness, blowing oneself up beyond one’s real self that leads to undesirable acts, causing Man to go astray. It is the source of all transgressions. If a human being was humble, he would not contemplate doing anything wrong. Only arrogance leads man to undesirable deeds.

On Pesach, which symbolizes the genesis of the Jewish people, Jews are once more reminded that their mission to become a light to the nations can only start in the spirit of humility. Arrogance can never be the foundation of spirituality and moral integrity. It cannot inspire others, nor will it have a lasting effect. Consequently, the art of real life is to be like a matza in a world of chametz. This is the reason, as understood by the Talmud, why one is prohibited to possess or eat chametz on Pesach. Only the matza is food of moral quality.

May G-d allow us to serve Him in this spirit and grant us and the world the final redemption.
Chag Kasher VeSameach.

On Tu BiShevat, the New Year for trees (January 28, 2002), we have a tradition to eat of those fruits with which the Land of Israel is blessed and to praise and thank G-d for the Land, for the goodly Land, and its fruits, which He has given us. In this way we are declaring that the connection between the People of Israel and the Land of Israel is an absolute and eternal connection, a Heavenly connection, and that no one can separate the People of Israel from its Land.

From the dawn of time, there has been conflict over the Land of Israel. It has always been an ideological conflict: who is on the right path, who is truly the successor, who is the heir of the Divine? Our sages say that the conflict and jealousy that existed between Abel and Cain was over the Land of Israel. It came about when they desired to find out who of the two of them would be the main inheritor of Adam, which was the central issue. They wanted to know who will be the elect and the core and, therefore, who will inherit the Land and be associated with the Divine. That man’s brother could be likened to the outer peel of a fruit in relation to him. Then, what happened, happened: Abel was killed and the sovereign was left heirless, as it is said, "And Cain went forth from before G-d (Genesis 4:16)." That is, from that Land, as Cain said (Genesis 4:14), "Verily have You expelled me this day from upon the land and I shall hide myself from You." That is to say, Cain did not inherit the Divine and was not worthy of the Land, rather he was expelled from it. Seth, who was worthy of being Adam’s successor as an elect one, was the first to inherit the Land. The Land eventually became the source of conflict between Isaac and Ishmael, with Ishmael ultimately being rejected and Isaac inheriting the Land. It was also over this Land that jealousy erupted between Jacob and Esau, until ultimately Esau, with all of his might, was rejected in favor of Jacob, with all of his weakness.

That is how it has always been, all of the wars over the Land of Israel occur for one reason: the war over the inheritance of the Divine election, over who is the successor in the Divine. That was the cause of the Crusades and that was the reason for the Moslem Arab conquest of the Land of Israel. However, as is said, the deeds of the fathers are signs for the sons: Isaac was worthy and Ishmael was rejected; Jacob was worthy of the Land and Esau was rejected. Now, in our time, the Land is returning to its true inheritors, to the People of Israel. None of the efforts of the Children of Ishmael and the Children of Esau will succeed in preventing the redemption of Israel. Even the internal weaknesses of Israel – the impatience, the fatigue, the faltering due to the lengthy and difficult exile – will not prevent the redemption of Israel, for the time of the redemption is at hand.

There is no more revealed end than when the Land of Israel produces its fruits in abundance, generously and with a happy countenance for the People of Israel as they return to it from all the lands of the Diaspora. The abundance is so great that there is even surplus. The Land is providing produce for even more Jews. It is waiting for all of its children and providing its fruits in abundance. The abundance is not a surplus of fruit, but rather a shortage of Jews. Yet they will come and they are coming, all the time. All of the discussion of withdrawals and concessions are for naught, for this Land has always belonged and will always belong to the People of Israel. As G-d said (Genesis 15:18), "To your offspring have I given this Land" and the word of G-d our L-rd will be established forever.

The very concept of an elite class among Jews is somehow disturbing to our modern mindset and societal value system. Our slavish devotion to the ideal of democracy has forced many Jews to forsake all Jewish values and traditions in order to prove us truly democratic. The current unceasing campaign against religious Jewry by the secular society of Israel carries as its banner the cynical slogan, "We are for a democratic society in Israel." Of course democracy has many definitions in many different circles. As usual, it depends on whose ox is being gored. The religious are always guilty of "incitement" and "coercion", while the champions of democracy are only practising "freedom of speech" and "the will of the majority."

Be that as it may, it is obvious to all of us that the democratic principles that form so much of a basis to our current Western civilization are dedicated to the principle of equality among citizens and frown upon the existence of a prescribed, dynastic, elite group within the society. Therefore, the special status of the children of Aaron – the "kohanim" - the priests of Israel - within the Jewish society smacks of being undemocratic. Yet, the Torah, in its Divine wisdom, ordains the creation of such a class of elite public servants within the body of Israeli society, in order to further the national challenge and goal of becoming a "a holy nation and a kingdom of priests".

The world has just left a most horrific century, one that saw almost 150,000,000 human beings meeting their deaths in war, through governmental policies and brutal social engineering schemes. One of those social engineering schemes, practiced in Russia and China and in other Marxist-run societies as well, was to make everyone equal in those societies. Of course, some people were more equal than others, but basically the idea was to rid the society of leaders, intellects, religious models and others who were "bourgeois" or "elitist." A drab facelessness covered the landscape of those countries and a tyranny almost unequalled in human annals devoured its "equal" citizens. By making everyone "equal" these tyrannies attempted to effectively silence any dissident thoughts or politically incorrect behavior.

For many centuries there was a concept of "noblesse oblige" in European and American society. The wealthy, the powerful, the talented and gifted were felt to have an obligation to work for the betterment of their society as a whole, simply because they were blessed with an unequal and favorable share in life’s bounties. This concept was based upon the foundations of Torah thought that legislated special rules and obligations for the priest, the Levite, the Torah scholar, the king and temporal leaders of Israel. In democratizing the concept of leadership in our current world, we have lost the sense of obligation and duty that should inspire the elite of the society. There are higher standards by which to judge those who claim the right to rule and strive to be part of history’s elite. Not everyone is the same. No one is above the law, but some people, the leaders, the "kohanim", the representatives of Torah and its people must realize that there is a higher law that binds them to supremely moral and inspirational behavior.

Shabat Shalom.

In parashat Ki Tisa we read of the sin of the Golden Calf and of Moshe’s subsequent prayers to G-d. One curiosity of these prayers is that Chapter 32:34 and Chapter 33:1,2 record that G-d told Moshe that He would send an angel to escort the people and that Moshe should take the people to Israel. However, Chapter 33:12,13 record that Moshe was unhappy with G-d’s offer, which is surprising since G-d’s offer seems to be identical with what was promised prior to the sin of the Golden Calf. Before the sin of the Golden Calf, in Shemot 23:20, G-d also told Moshe that an angel would lead the way to the land of Israel and we do not read of any complaint by Moshe.

The cloud of G-d was a cloud during the day and a pillar of fire at night (Shemot 13:21,22) that accompanied the people in the desert. The glory of G-d appeared as a "devouring fire" (Shemot 24:17), which is a similar imagery to the cloud at night, but this similarity does not mean that they were identical. Abravanel claims that the viewpoint of most commentators is that the glory of G-d was distinct from the cloud of G-d. Abravanel explains that the glory of G-d was always within the cloud of G-d as a fire encased within the cloud and the fire only became visible at night.

The angel was the cloud of G-d, as the cloud did lead the people in the desert, Shemot 40:36-38, and Bamidbar 9:15-23. The word "angel" literally means messenger and the cloud was the messenger of G-d. When Shemot 23:21 referred to G-d’s name within the angel, this meant that the glory of G-d would be within the cloud. The glory of G-d was potentially deadly, "a devouring fire," and thus 23:21 warns the people not to sin, as the people would be punished. After the sin of the Golden Calf, G-d agreed to send the angel, which meant the cloud, and 33:9 records the appearance of the cloud of G-d. However, G-d did not want the glory of G-d to be present within the cloud, since if the people would sin, then they would be punished. Thus, 33:3 records that G-d would not be in the midst of the people, since they were a hard-necked people and G-d would come to destroy them. This would be referring to the glory of G-d, which could destroy the people if they sinned.

Why did Moshe desire the glory of G-d to accompany the people? The answer is that the real issue of Moshe’s prayers was whether the covenant would be renewed after the people broke the covenant with the sin of the Golden Calf. The presence of G-d’s glory would show that the Jewish people were G-d’s people (33:13), which indicates that the covenant would be renewed. If G-d had just sent the cloud to lead the people, the people would have inherited the Land of Israel but, there would have been no covenant.. In 33:17, we read that G-d agreed to Moshe’s request.

If the above interpretation is correct, then the conversation of 33:12-16 refers to G-d’s glory and 33:17 means that G-d agreed to send His glory, in addition to the cloud, which signals G-d’s agreement to renew the covenant. Thus, after the conversation between G-d and Moshe, 34:10 records that G-d announced a new covenant.

by Rabbi Nathan Lopes Cardozo
Arutz Sheva News Service

It does not take much wisdom to realize that since its establishment the State of Israel has never faced so many difficulties as at this moment in time. We all feel that there is something else going on that we are unable to verbalize. The Jewish people are more vulnerable than ever since the establishment of the State and that, above all, Jews are losing their nerve and that the Jewish State may be losing the ground under its feet.

There is an uneasy feeling that we Jews are no longer what we used to be and that our 4,000 years of survival capacity seems to be exhausted. While we were once a strong-minded people, capable of standing up against the largest empires in the world, today we seem to be confused. We have exchanged self-confidence for (limited) hysteria and we do not even know what happened to us. We do not know where to turn and how to start formulating some kind of response.

It is in the light of these facts that I humbly offer my following observations. Before doing so, it should, however, be clear that to interpret current events is a most risky undertaking. Who, after all, knows why things happen the way they do? Studies show how much the interpretation of history is mainly built on speculation and little consistency. We are not prophets and we surely do not have sufficient knowledge to fully grasp the problems at hand.

As religious people we are asked to look for the deeper meaning of world history, since it is one of the foundations of our belief that G-d has a hand in its unfolding. To do so, we are used to consulting biblical and Talmudic sources, examining them and drawing conclusions; however, this is not done without serious danger. Often these texts are open to a whole lot of interpretations, which not infrequently contradict each other, leaving us in confusion. To apply these texts and to declare that we have unraveled "the ways of G-d" is not only dangerous, but all too presumptuous. It could back-fire on us and the results may be disastrous. It is arrogance and impudence of the first order, something to which religious people have frequently fallen victim, bringing religion into disrepute.

On the other hand, these texts were given to us to make them relevant. If they are not, they become meaningless and ultimately lose their reason for existence. Thus, we are left with only one option: We must study these texts as if they are relevant. We must above all try to reveal the moral lessons in these texts, to inspire us to be better human beings and Jews. In other words, it is our obligation to learn from these texts those lessons that increase our moral consciousness, without stating that they are unique or even an authentic interpretation. It may quite well be that these texts were deliberately written in such a way that they are applicable to several circumstances, while open to various interpretations without a definite meaning.

With these caveats in mind, let us ask some questions: What could possibly be the reason that we find ourselves in such crisis? What are the moral and religious implications? Saying it differently: What is G-d possibly trying to tell us? What are we, as individuals, able to do about it? What are our obligations?

Before we try to answer these questions, it must be clear that the observations we will make could easily be misunderstood and above all be misused. It is for this reason that I beg my readers to be most careful with the words I offer. My words are those of a humble man who does not want anything other than to help his people. As in every other case in which certain claims are made, the speaker has to take risks knowing that he may play into the hands of those who harbor bad intentions. We can be sure that as far as our discussion is concerned, there are many who belong to that camp. Nevertheless, honesty asks us to speak up, even when it may make us unpopular.

My dear friends, we have a great society and this society of Israel does a lot of good. Nowhere in the world is there so much chesed (kindness and charity) done as in our country. Still, let’s be honest, however painful it may be. We have an obligation to ask ourselves if we are indeed losing this beautiful land because we do not live up to the conditions under which it was given to us? We need to improve ourselves if we want to hold on to this country. Indeed, we cannot know for sure, but do we not have an obligation to take this thought seriously?

Rabbi Naftali Zvi Yehuda Berlin, commenting on the verse "The Rock is perfect in His working, righteous and straight is He," (Devarim 32:4), writes: "The meaning of this verse is to vindicate the judgment of G-d with the destruction of the second Temple in a generation that was perverted and twisted. While the people in those days were righteous and pious in their religious obligations, they were not straight in dealing with their fellowmen. They suspected anybody who did not agree with them in the way they served G-d and they called them apikorsim, heretics, and Sadducees. And it is because of this that there was shedding of blood and that the nation became divided, which ultimately led to the destruction of the Temple. So Divine judgement came and allowed the destruction of the Temple, since G-d is straight and does not tolerate such ‘righteous people.’ He only protects those who are straight and not crooked, even when their motivations are, in their eyes, ‘for Heaven’s sake.’ The main reason for this is that such behavior and attitudes destroy our social structure and our successful settlement in the land and the world."

Take proper notice: The Netziv warns us not so much about the violation of religious obligations, such as Shabbat and kashrut (however important they are), but in the way we deal with each other and how our internal fights ultimately lead to the destruction of our society. Should all of us, including myself, not be obligated to take these words most seriously, especially now, when we see our society shake?

Is it not most peculiar that since the Palestinians joined the stage of world politics, Jews surrendered to them the very first cities in Israel that G-d granted them in the days of Abraham, and later under the leadership of Joshua, in an attempt to make peace with them? These cities include Shechem, Hevron and Jericho, as well as Judaism’s central city, Jerusalem. It seems that we lose the land in the same order as we received it. The first cities we inherited are the first ones to go. How bizarre.

In a most unusual passage in Devarim (32), called Haazinu, we read a song that was sung by Moshe at the end of his life. This song is one of the most difficult parts of all of the Torah to understand. Still, some of the verses speak for themselves. Between many crucial subjects, the misdeeds of the Jews are discussed and G-d informs us by way of this song of what the consequences will be. "And I [G-d] said: I will hide My face from them and I will see what their end may be. They are a generation of confusion, children in which one cannot trust. They have caused My ‘jealousy’ with a non-G-d [i.e. trusting in other powers but G-d]. They have ‘annoyed’ Me with their nullities. And I will provoke them by a non-nation. Through a foolish vile nation will I provoke them to rage and resentment." Again, we have to ask ourselves if these verses do not speak about our own condition, in which a non-nation, i.e., a group of people without historical roots or cultural identity, drives us to panic while simultaneously bringing its own people to total ruin.

This also reminds us of an observation about a part of Moshe’s farewell speech, where he reminded the Israelites of one of their enemies, the Emorites, saying, "The Emorites went out… and pursued you as bees do, they struck you in Seer, until Chorma." (Devarim 1:44). Rashi questions the meaning of the statement "like bees" and responds that just as a bee attacks a person, and immediately dies, so did the Emorites. Normally, a nation does not contemplate attacking its enemy knowing that the enemy’s form of retaliation would leave no survivors.

We are reminded of a verse in the Torah which again may relate to our present circumstances: In Shemot (34:24), we read concerning the obligation of each male to come to the Temple on Pesach, Shavuot and Succot: "Three times in the year shall all your males let themselves be seen close to the presence of the Lord G-d, the G-d of Israel." And when you shall do so, i.e., when you will not only come to the Temple three times a year, but also fully live up to the moral and spiritual condition of that holy place, then: "No human being will covet your land when you go up three times a year to the Temple." (ibid.)

This is a most remarkable verse. How can it be that when all Jewish males find themselves in the court of the Temple on these days, that the country will not be overtaken by the enemy? When no soldier stands at the borders of the country, how can the land be secured from its enemies? Indeed, this is not possible under the normal condition of human experience. Such a situation is suicidal and such a biblical promise seems to be absurd. Looking carefully into these verses, we become aware of the fact that their message is not that our enemies will come to our borders and that G-d will stop them crossing over. What it does say is that the enemies will not even covet the land and will show no interest in entering or occupying it.

This is indeed most extraordinary. We are being told that the psychological condition of our enemies will drastically change once we behave the way we should. It seems to suggest that our behavior influences their psychological attitudes. Not just on a social level, but on a metaphysical level. Let us, however, not make the mistake of thinking that this frees our enemies from their responsibility. It does not say that they will lose their faculty to decide between right and wrong, and that they are compelled to attack our country like a preconditioned robot. What it means is that it will be harder for them to resist those subconscious elements calling for downfall, just like in the case of G-d hardening the heart of Pharaoh.

It is most important to realize that most of these verses and their rabbinical interpretations emphasize the need for supreme ethical behavior by the Jewish people. While it is definitely true that the observance of religious laws such as Shabbat and kashrut are of the utmost importance, it is most clear, as can be especially seen in the observations of the Netziv, that it is the "mitzvot bein adam lechavero" - the laws between man and his fellow man - which seem to be crucial when the land needs securing. This should send us a most clear message.

It is possible to live a so-called "religious life" without being religious. Society will not be able to function and will surely disintegrate when the observance of shabbat, kashrut and other rituals are celebrated, but our relationship with our fellowmen is wanting. We are reminded of a most important and profound observation made by the great sage Rabbi Meir Simcha HaCohen who draws our attention to a most unusual and problematic statement by the Torah concerning the cause of the flood of Noach. In Bereshit (6:11) we read: "And the earth was corrupt (tishachet) before G-d and the earth was filled with violence (hamas)." Rashi comments, " ‘Corruption’ (Hashchata) means sexual immorality and idol worship and ‘violence’ (hamas) means robbery." He then continues and makes the following comment, based on the Talmud: "The divine decree [to bring the flood] was sealed because of robbery." In other words, it was not the violation of sexual immorality or idol worship that ultimately caused the flood, but robbery.

This, argues Rabbi Simcha Meir, is most strange and seems to contradict Jewish Law. One does not become liable to the death penalty because one has robbed. According to the Torah, robbery is punished by financial penalties, never by capital punishment. Secondly, the prohibitions of idol worship and sexual immorality do include capital punishment. So how could G-d have brought the flood on all of mankind because of robbery? If anything, it should have been due to sexual immorality and idol worship. This matter is specifically so intriguing because one of the great principles of Judaism is that G-d Himself is obligated to act according to His own rulings.

Rabbi Simcha Meir responds by disclosing a most unusual concept within Jewish Law, which is more than a little surprising. By doing so, he lays down a major principle with far reaching consequences. It is true, he argues, that individuals are liable to the death penalty when they are involved in sexual immorality or idol-worship. Yet, this is only true when the vast majority of their fellow men are not so involved. In such a case, the individual should have known better. After all, his fellow man made it abundantly clear to him that such behavior is unacceptable. Yet, what happens in the case when all of mankind gets involved in these practices? In such a case, argues Rabbi Meir Simcha, the death penalty no longer applies. The reason is obvious: When all men are involved in such acts, nobody knows any better. Once it becomes the norm and has turned into an accepted practice by all, one can no longer make anybody liable. To do so would be entirely unjustified. From where would the individual know that such practices are forbidden when all of mankind has accepted them as legitimate lifestyles?

However, this is only true in the case of such laws dealing with the relationship between man and G-d, such as idol worship or sexual immorality (in which both parties out of free will have consented to such a relationship). In these cases, G-d may forfeit His personal honor and forgive the offenders, but this is far from true in the case of robbery. It is impossible to argue that since all men are robbers, robbery is permitted and that the offender would not have known better. After all, the result of robbery is to be seen by all. It results in the breakdown of all of society. Nobody could argue that he did not know and considered robbery to be a norm. In fact, argues Rabbi Meir Simcha, with the increase of people robbing, the transgression worsens. While one or two robbers can only do limited damage, in a case where all of society starts stealing, the damage is far greater. Consequently, the normally required monetary penalty will be insufficient. After all, it is no longer robbery that people are guilty of, but the total destruction of society. Such a collective transgression demands a much stronger punishment, as it undermines all that society stands for. This, argues Rabbi Meir Simcha, is the reason why the generation of the flood became liable to capital punishment, because of robbery and not because of idol worship or sexual immorality. They had completely destroyed society. It was as if they had committed social suicide. Had they "just" violated the laws of idol worship or sexual immorality, G-d would not have brought them the flood, since they would not have known better and such behavior would have been considered to be the norm.

Proof can be brought from a statement in the Jerusalem Talmud: "In the generation of King David there were only righteous people, but because there were informers among them, they, the righteous people, fell and died in war. Yet, in the days of King Achav, many were involved in idol worship, but because there were no informers among them, they were victorious." In the latter case, the verse (Vayikra, 16:16) "He [Divine providence] will [still] dwell among them in their contamination" applies, but in the case of the informers it is written, "He will be exalted above the heavens." (Tehilim 57:6) In other words, Divine Presence will no longer find Itself among them. In the first case, people violated the moral code as far as their fellow men were concerned and therefore G-d was no longer prepared to have His Divine Presence stay with them, although there were many righteous people. In the second case, while they were idol worshippers, the people behaved properly to each other and the Divine "indwelling" consequently remained with them, however terrible their "religious" transgressions may have been.

A similar point is made by the sages when they asked which destruction of the two Temples was worse, the first destruction or the second one. The answer is most striking. The reason the first Temple was destroyed was idol worship and sexual immorality; whereas, the second Temple was destroyed because of "meaningless hate," although many used to learn Torah in those days. Surprisingly, it took only a few years before the second Temple was built, which means that the punishment for idol worship and sexual morality was limited. Yet once the second Temple was destroyed, no third one, throughout all the thousands of years since, was ever built, clearly informing us that "meaningless hatred" between fellow Jews was considered much worse in the eyes of G-d than the violation of idol worship and sexual immorality.
In other words there is overwhelming evidence that, on a national level, the commandments dealing with the relationship between man and his fellow man are absolutely crucial. While we cannot be sure, as mentioned before, that the different biblical and rabbinical texts apply to our precarious situation in the land of Israel at this hour, we should at least draw the conclusion that it is our duty to inspire ourselves and our fellow Jews to increase our efforts to take all these texts to our hearts and try to create an even better Jewish society.

It cannot be denied that there are few places in the world where so much kindness is done as in Israel. We are blessed with charity organizations of every possible kind, unheard of in other countries. Still, there is much to do. Israel should start a major national campaign to advance the commandments between man and his fellow man. By creating outreach programs throughout the country via radio and television broadcasts, websites, e-mail, CDs and educational videos, it would be possible to reach hundreds of thousands of people. We should flood the Israeli society and the Jewish world at large with the most uplifting literature to inspire people to show the utmost sensitivity to the feelings of our fellow man. Advertisements should call on readers to be more patient with their fellow man, to smile and say hello to any passerby, to show courtesy, to help wherever possible and to make it a matter of honor and pride to be a real mensch. This can be done in highly effective ways without the need to preach and without becoming too "sweet."

Because of their many wars, Israelis have been afraid to show their emotions and of being called weak and compromising. Anybody acquainted with Israeli society knows that underneath every tough exterior there is a subtle soul looking for ways to help and serve one’s fellow Jew. Religious Jews have a most important task in all of this. By their exemplary behavior, they must be able to strike a spark in the hearts of other Jews. Religious Jews must realize that they have to become a light to their own nation before they can be a light to other nations. There cannot be any mediocrity. This will require that religious schools, seminaries and yeshivas will have to go out of their way to give more time to teaching and discussing the commandments between man and his fellow man. There is no point in suggesting stringencies in the laws of Shabbat and kashrut, if they are not accompanied by similar, if not even stricter, stringencies in our relationships with our fellow man. This is the great challenge facing religious Jewry and its leaders at this hour.

As mentioned above, all of the foregoing verses may apply to our current crisis, but there are no guarantees that they actually do. Nobody really knows. Still, I think we all agree that we should draw the necessary conclusions and act as if they do. Nothing is more uplifting than having an even better society. In fact, we should make the point that, in the event that these verses do indeed relate to our situation, then they carry a message of great hope. After all, what do they suggest? They submit that our future is first of all in our own hands. This, I might suggest, makes the problem much easier to solve. All we need to do is put our house in order. It is not our foreign policy which will solve the problem, but our internal conduct that will make the real difference. This is possible. There is little doubt that with a lot of effort we will be able to change Israeli society for the better. This is especially so, since this society clearly carries the seeds for such exalted behavior, as has been proven over and over again in its short history.

The unprecedented feeling of unity at this hour is most striking. We witness how the religious and non-religious are able to work hand in hand. We can testify that there is a common recognition of brotherhood between Sefardim and Ashkenazim, between rich and poor. This should wake us up. Every crisis is also an opportunity. Without denying or in any form belittling the terrible tragedies in which so many people have been killed and hurt in the last few months, this crisis may one day turn into a blessing and function as a catharsis towards a better future. Let us work and pray that it will.

May the G-d of Israel grant us mercy and may we soon see the day in which tranquility will return to this great country.

Peace. We pray for it, hope for it, we even sing incessantly about it. Peace, say our Rabbis, is the "container" that holds life; for without true peace, life would spill onto the ground like water out of a glass.

Our second sedra this week, B´chukotai, is largely focused on the negative consequences that can result, G-d forbid, when we reject Hashem and try to "go it alone." Without Divine protection, we are that proverbial sheep surrounded by 70 wolves, defenseless in a cruel world. Yet the parsha first outlines, in succinct form, the blessings promised to us when we attach ourselves to G-d´s will and perform His mitzvot. Central to these brachot is the assurance: "Viyshavtem l’vetach b’artzechem" - "And you shall dwell safely and securely in your Land," which is followed immediately by "V’natati shalom ba’aretz." - "And I will grant you Peace in the Land."

The obvious question stares out at us: If the first clause is true, namely if we enjoy safety and security, then wo not we by definition enjoy a status of peace? Not necessarily, says the Rivash: True peace is more than the illusion of security, or isolated periods or pockets of serenity. True peace is comprehensive and pervasive. Only when all the Land is at peace, when every citizen is safe, can all the people rest securely.

Only when there is "peace in the Land," when all the groups already living together within Israel get along, will the bracha finally come true. If we cannot make peace among ourselves, how can we realistically expect peace with our neighbors?

The Chatam Sofer sees peace as a frame of mind as much as a political arrangement. It is not enough to have an abundance of food, financial prosperity and security, he says, one must also be satisfied with his situation. The real bracha is when a person appreciates his lot in life and acknowledges his good fortune. The all too common penchant for seeing the dark cloud behind every silver lining is a barrier to achieving bracha.

Finally, the bitachon ("security") spoken of in part one of the blessing is the key to part two: By relying on Hashem and seeking His protection, we can achieve ultimate peace.

Put another way, the secret of bitaCHON ("security") is biTAchon ("trust in G-d")!

This week’s Haftorah is from the Book of Jeremiah, Chapter 16:19-21, and Chapter 17:1-14.

According to tradition, the prophet Jeremiah was born on Tisha B’Av - the ninth day of the Hebrew month of Av – a day that would later come to embody mourning and grief for the Jewish people, because it was on that date that the two Temples in Jerusalem would be destroyed. Jeremiah was born circumcised and his father Hilkiah was a priest and a prophet. According to the Talmud, the prophet Jeremiah wrote the book named after himself as well as the Book of Kings and the Book of Lamentations (which is known in Hebrew as Eichah and is read on Tisha B’Av because it recounts the destruction of Jerusalem by the evil Nebuchadnezzar in 586). The Talmud states that Jeremiah went to search for the Ten Lost Tribes of Israel who had been exiled by the Assyrians, and he is said to have found them and brought some of them back to the Land of Israel. Jeremiah prophesied for 40 years, and the bulk of his prophecies contain words of rebuke and warnings to the Jewish people to mend their ways and return to G-d. There is a midrash which states that Jeremiah was stoned to death by Jews in Egypt. According to this midrash, the Egyptians buried him, but King Alexander removed his bones and buried them in the Egyptian city of Alexandria. Another tradition has it that Jeremiah was buried in Jerusalem.

The Haftorah begins with the prophet stating that G-d is his strength and his refuge and it is to Him that he runs in times of trouble. The day will come when the nations of the world will gather and say that they have inherited lies and falsehoods from their forefathers, for they have worshipped false G-ds which they themselves made. At the end of days, G-d will show them that He is the L-rd and they will know His might and power. The prophet then rebukes Judah, wondering how they can follow after false and empty G-ds. Their sin will not be forgotten quickly and G-d will punish them by exiling them from their Land and turning over their wealth to the enemy. The Haftorah then states that a person who places his trust in man and turns his heart away from G-d is accursed and he resembles a tree in the desert, in a parched and salty land, which lives an unenviable existence. However, he who trusts in G-d is blessed and is akin to a tree planted by the water, unaffected by drought and never ceasing to bear fruit. G-d examines man’s heart and his intentions, and He knows who puts his faith in Him and who does not. The wicked may prosper temporarily, but their ill-gotten gains will be taken from them. The Haftorah closes by reminding the Jewish people that G-d is the source of Israel’s hope, for when He heals us, we shall be healed, and when He saves us, we shall be saved.

After reproving those who place their faith entirely in man and turn away from G-d, the prophet contrasts them with people who rely on Him: "Blessed is the man who trusts in G-d, and then shall G-d be his trust." (Chap. 17, verse 7)

Why does the verse seem to repeat itself by saying that G-d will be the trust of someone who puts his trust in G-d?

The Radak says the verse should be understood to mean that "if he trusts in Him, then He shall be his trust and he need not fear any evil." In other words, the verse is not repeating itself, it is conveying an important message as to how the world operates, namely that if a person wishes for G-d to serve as his trust and protect him, then the burden lies on him to launch the relationship by first putting his faith in G-d. Similarly, the Metzudat David explains, "just as he trusts in Him, so too shall He be a trust and of help to him." This seems to imply an even more direct correlation between the level of a person’s trust in G-d and the extent to which G-d then serves as a source of assistance and protection for him. Hence, the greater the investment which a person makes in faith, the greater will be the return on his investment from his Divine Broker.

Why is the present crisis happening to us? Have not the Jewish people been through enough already over the centuries of our dispersion, that we now have to wage an ongoing struggle to hold on to our Land? Why ca not G-d just solve this mess already and let us enjoy a little peace and quiet? The answer, it seems, lies in what we saw above, for implicit in these questions is the faulty idea that man has no role to play, that it is all up to G-d to act to solve our problems for us. However, as the Radak and the Metzudat David pointed out, the burden is on man to first take a step of faith toward G-d, to put his trust in Him, for only then will He be our trust, acting to protect us. Sadly, however, we as a nation have yet to fully do so.

Immediately following the prophet’s comparison of the person who trusts in man versus the person who trusts in G-d, the Haftorah states: "The heart is deceitful above all things, and when it is sick, who will know? I, the L-rd, search the heart… to give everyone according to his ways, according to the fruit of his deeds." (Chap. 17, verses 9-10)

The Radak says that since the prophet Jeremiah has just discussed the matter of trusting in G-d versus trusting in man – something that is dependent on the intentions of the heart – he now proceeds to address the nature of the heart itself. The verse, he says, is telling us that the heart is the most deceitful organ, because, while a person may seem – through his speech and actions – to be good, his intentions might very well be evil. The only one capable of discerning this, as the verse states, is G-d, for only He that has the ability to look inside a person and see what their true aim is. Having searched the person’s heart, G-d then will "give everyone according to his ways."

Any false posturing that the prophet Jeremiah was referring to above when he said "the heart is deceitful above all things" would certainly not fool G-d, for "I, the L-rd, search the heart… to give everyone according to his ways, according to the fruit of his deeds."

by Rabbi Shaya Deitsch

A rabbi dies and is waiting in line in Heaven. Ahead of him is a guy dressed in sunglasses, a loud shirt, leather jacket and jeans. The angel at the front desk asks, "Who are you, so that I may know whether or not to admit?" The guy replies, "I’m Joe Cohen, taxi-driver, of New York City." The angel smiles and says, "Take this silken robe and golden staff and enter."

Now it’s the rabbi’s turn. He stands erect and announces, "I am Levi Rubinstein, rabbi of Beth Tikvah in Cleveland for the last forty-three years." The angel consults his list. He says, "Take this cotton robe and wooden staff and enter."

"Just a minute," says Levi, "That man was a taxi-driver and he gets a silken robe and golden staff. I am a humble soul, but still I wonder, how can this be?"

"Up here, we work by results," says the angel, "During your sermons, people slept; while he drove, people prayed."

This, of course, is but the latest in a long line of "why him and not me?" jokes about how various people are perceived in Heaven. There is the lawyer version ("We have lots of rabbis: he’s the first lawyer!"), the one in which G-d is mistaken for a doctor and so on. We’ll publish a book someday, if it has not already been published.

Meanwhile, the book we are mainly concerned with, Torah, says this week in Ki Tisa that the L-rd asks Moses to request of the people of Israel a "ransom" for their souls (The word "ransom" here is used as it is when one has to pay a ransom for taking a life, but not with intent to murder. In other words, you are responsible for a human life, in this case your own). What is the ransom? One half-shekel. How about those who have 300 sheep and only one child, and can afford more? Still one half-shekel. In fact, no one is allowed to pay more. Your soul, although unique, is worth exactly as much as the souls of every other Jew, accomplished or lethargic, upright citizen or criminal. In Heaven, you will get the same car that they give everyone.

Does this mean that we’re all worth the same? Not exactly. It means our souls are all capable of providing the same nourishment and spiritual riches. What we do with that soul, how well we use what is given to us, that is a different matter. Our souls give us the potential to be infinitely good. Our actions determine how well we have used that potential (and, of course, the kinds of getting-into-Heaven jokes others tell about us Jews, especially about us rabbis).