Parshas Vayeishev- Seeking Balance

Seeking Strength and Balance in Shechem

The Torah tells us: “And his brothers went to pasture their father’s flock in Shechem.” Rashi teaches us the meaning of the scriptural tradition that places two dots over the word es. Yosef’s brothers did not go only to tend their father’s sheep but also “to pasture themselves.” The deeper meaning of this is that the brothers went to Shechem to nourish their souls, not their bodies. And this is striking, for in the home of Yaakov Avinu, nothing was lacking physically or spiritually.

We know that the brothers feared Yosef’s rising greatness, worrying that their own place in the spiritual structure of Klal Yisrael might be diminished. This thought caused them great pain. So they journeyed to Shechem, a place where they could draw renewed strength and remind themselves of who they really were. There they could quietly whisper to themselves the truth that every one of us must remember: “The entire world was created for my sake.” In this way, they “pastured themselves”—they nurtured their dignity and reinforced their unique way of connecting to the Holy One.

And perhaps this is why Yaakov sent Yosef after them. Yosef, despite his holiness, lacked the inner boldness needed to confront his older brothers when he felt they erred. Yaakov understood that Yosef, too, needed a place to gather strength, to step into the fullness of who he was meant to be. And these two ways of being were really at the heart of the conflict between Yosef and his brothers.

Yosef HaTzaddik was like Shabbos in relation to the spectrum of avodah paralleled by the days of the week. Shabbos, as we know, is a reflection of the World to Come. It’s from Shabbos that the weekdays draw their blessing. Yosef held a similar place among his brothers—he was the channel through which spiritual blessing flowed into all of their avodah. Even the splitting of the sea at the time of the exodus only came through his merit. He was a luminous place through which Divine shefa passed.

And just as Shabbos requires havdalah—a gentle sense of separateness—so too does Yosef’s powerful quality and avodah require a certain sense of distance to be able to receive from it in a balanced way. “From afar Hashem appeared to me.” The more one recognizes their own smallness before Hashem, creating distance, the more Hashem can reveal himself. The brothers needed a certain degree of distance to be able to appreciate and absorb the light of his particular avodah.

But brotherhood can foster an extraordinary closeness, and sometimes it’s just too close. The very warmth and closeness that bonded Yosef with his brothers made the spiritual distance they needed almost impossible to attain. And so the tension arose. It was far from ideal, yet it created a kind of space—like the distance between the sun and the earth—through which blessing could flow without overwhelming the recipient.

To understand more deeply how Yosef and his brothers reflect Shabbos and the six days: Yosef embodied the essence of Shabbos. His avodah was inward. He strengthened the holiness inside himself until all traces of evil inclination simply fell away. Light pushed out darkness.

His brothers were given a different task—the weekday avodah of refining the world. They sifted and elevated sparks hidden within the mixture of good and evil. Through Torah, mitzvos, honesty in business, and perseverance in avodah, they purified the world bit by bit. Slowly, lovingly, carefully.

Had they all nullified themselves to Yosef’s way of pushing aside evil through inner illumination, the work could have been completed much more swiftly. But that path did not feel true to them. They chose the long, steady path of self-refinement. The deep difference in their spiritual mission birthed this holy disagreement.

Each path was holy. Each path was necessary. And from their struggle, the story of our people unfolded, teaching us that every Jew, in their own way, stands sometimes in the light of Shabbos, and sometimes in the work of the six days, and that both forms of avodah are crucial to bringing the full and final redemption. (Shem MiShmuel)

 

Vayishlach- A Labor of Love

In this week’s parshah, we learn of the passing of Rachel Imeinu. Our sages emphasized the many ways in which we can learn from her life, experiences, and struggles. If we wish to understand the true price one must pay for the pleasure of being prized, we can learn it from her.

She was the very center of Yaakov Avinu’s heart, the one for whom he labored with love, yet she was ready to surrender her husband, her future, and the privilege of bringing forth the tribes of Hashem—all to spare her sister from shame. And she did so with a full heart.

After all this greatness, the Torah writes: “And Hashem saw that Leah was hated.” In the language of our Torah, hated does not bear its simple meaning, rather it denotes the subtlest measure of diminished affection—a fine distinction.

“And He opened her womb.” In reward for that trace of pain and humiliation, Leah was granted fertility. “And Rachel was barren.” Why does the verse  now emphasize Rachel? To teach that because of the extra measure of love and honor that Yaakov showed her in comparison to her sister, she paid a heavy price—remaining childless for many years.

“Because she was infertile, she merited to become the akeres habayis—the mistress of the house.” Rachel’s suffering became the very ladder through which she ascended to greatness. (Zohar; Michtav MeEliyahu, Vol. IV, p. 269)

In her distress, Rachel  cried to Yaakov Avinu, “Give me children, or else I die!” Yes, our Imahos were prophets; how did Rachel not already know that she would eventually bear children? The answer lies in the Midrash, which teaches that our Imahos struggled with infertility because the Holy One desired their prayers. From this it follows that Hashem concealed from them knowledge of the future precisely so that they would pray.

Had they not prayed, they would still have borne children by Divine kindness alone; the matter would have depended upon Kesser, the higher level of Divine mercy that comes entirely unearned. But what comes solely through complete kindness does not endure in the same way. Heavenly accusers protest against undeserved gifts.

 

Completion only comes through the arousal of human action below, which draws forth blessing from above; the very purpose of a soul’s descent into this world and all of the work that it does here.

The Imahos were at first denied children so that they would pray and, in so doing, bring the souls of the future Jewish people down into being in the most complete manner, through the expenditure of incredible spiritual effort.

Had they been naturally fertile, their children would have come automatically through unbounded mercy alone—dependent on the higher mercy of Kesser—and the emergence of the Jewish people would not have reached the same spiritual wholeness.

Now Rachel’s words are understood: “Give me children!”

Through her deeds she sought to awaken the upper worlds, to elicit blessing by her own holy effort. “And if not (im ayin)”—that is, if the children were to come only from the level of Ayin (“Nothingness”), which alludes to Kesser, for this level is utterly unknowable to us—“I die.” If that were to happen, the children would not arrive in the same perfected way, and my life and all its purpose would wither away.

It is now clear that although the Imahos were prophets and knew they would bear children, they did not know from which level their children would come. It was into that sacred uncertainty that they poured their hearts in prayer, shaping the destiny of our people with every tear. (Shem MishmuelVayeitzei 5675)

Bereishis- The New Beginning

The New Beginning

We find in the Midrash that after bringing sacrifices for the seventy non-Jewish nations during Sukkos, Hashem says, “Make for Me a small meal so that I may enjoy from you,” asking the Jewish people to remain with Him alone on Shemini Atzeres.

In the verse in Shir Hashirim the Jewish people are called achos ketanah—a little sister. “Achos,” because their purpose is to unite all who come into the world with Hashem (l’achos in Hebrew means to unify, to join seamlessly as one). The Midrash explains regarding Avraham that he gathered all who entered the world, stitching together its rifts like one who sews a tear. This is the spiritual purpose of the Jewish people—to bring peace and harmony into the world. They are also called “little,” because they humble themselves among the nations, as Rashi comments on the verse, “Not because you were more numerous,” but because they make themselves small.

On Sukkos, when the Jewish people offered bulls for the nations, the intention was to draw forth the sparks of goodness within them and bring them back to holiness, rectifying the non-Jewish nations as much as possible. Then the Jewish people are called sister, for they unite the world with its Source. But on Shemini Atzeres, they reach a deeper place, where they are called small, for they humble themselves entirely before Hashem—the trait of Yaakov, whose name comes from ekev, “heel.” As it says, “Your youngest son, Yaakov.”

Whoever attains true greatness and deeper understanding realizes more profoundly how small he remains, how little he has done. Even Moshe Rabbeinu, after all the miracles he performed and after receiving the Torah from Heaven, said, “You have begun to show Your servant”–Moshe always saw himself as at the very beginning.

Likewise, after the days of awe—Rosh Hashanah, Yom Kippur, and Sukkos—when we have been brought into the inner chambers of the King and have taken the lulav and its species that allude to the four letters of Hashem’s Name, we feel humbled and recognize that we are just beginning. That is the way we enter into the new year and the new cycle of Torah readings. As the Kotzker Rebbe taught: Simchas Torah belongs to the future.

The verse regarding Yom Tov states, “And you shall always be joyful.” It appears that the phrase “and you shall be” conveys a promise—that so it shall be. Now, on Shemini Atzeres—after Rosh Hashanah, Yom Kippur, and Sukkos—the heart is necessarily cleansed. The eighth day alludes to the days of Mashiach, when joy will be complete above and “Hashem shall rejoice in His works.” Surely then, on Shemini Atzeres, there is already at least a measure of that heavenly joy. And if so, the Jewish people naturally must feel and be stirred with joy.

The Midrash teaches that Shemini Atzeres should by right have been fifty days after Sukkos, just as Shavuos is after Pesach. The number fifty corresponds to the fifty gates of Binah—understanding. Yet it is immediately after Sukkos. On Pesach, the Jewish people were still “naked and bare” (as discussed in the Haggadah), without sufficient arousal from below through their own efforts. They were redeemed primarily through supernal kindness. They therefore required days of preparation and purification before Shavuos. This is why we must count the Omer before reaching Shavuos. On Sukkos, after fulfilling all the mitzvos of sukkah and lulav, we are ready to enter Shemini Atzeres at once, to draw that holiness into our homes and daily lives throughout the coming year.

This teaches a person not to falter in spirit after Sukkos, saying, “What remains to me after all this?” For Shemini Atzeres was given precisely in this way—to show that afterward comes the true beginning. Through the good deeds a person performs following Shemini Atzeres, all that preceded it becomes absorbed and sealed within the innermost part of the heart. (Mekor ChaimShem MiShmuel)

Parshat Toldot

By Sarah Goldstein

Chodesh Tov v’ Shabbat shalom,

In this world we often get caught in the world of externals and challenges.  Even for those of us who have deeper goals and are looking for that depth, so often we can feel that the deep wells of water, of dveikus, of toras chayim, can be blocked up with the עפר of this world. The Sfas Emes quotes his grandfather the Chidushei Harim in explaining that Yitzchak’s digging up the wells that Avraham dug that were now covered up was him revealing the capacity to find that inner Torah and the connection to Hashem hiding in everything.
At first the struggle is more challenging and we face the levels of עשק and שטנה, facing the physical world and fighting the yetzer hara, engaging in the active avodah of peeling back the surface layers to reveal the connection to Hashem that is possible in everything we encounter. The final level he reveals for us is רחובות, the expansion that comes with Torah, that comes on shabbos, the באר מים חיים awaiting to be discovered. This avodah also was reflected in Avraham needing to dig the wells in the first place, finding the neshama of the world, what the inside picture, discoveringit its צורה. Yitzchak’s birth marked the beginning of galus mitzrayim. His avodah with these wells, the avodah of שטנה, fighting the layers of concealment in galus, the layers of challenge and lack of clarity to discover Hashem. Yaakov comes to the big stone on the well and can roll it off with his finger, he represents the inner point, shabbos, Torah where the external illusion falls away to the beauty of seeing the world with the eyes of Emunah, seeing Hashem’s presence in it all.
In fact, this digging motion is also mentioned at the beginning of the parsha too, the Sfas Emes explains, as Yitzchak’s tefilla is compared to a pitchfork that turns the crop over from one place to another. In contrast to Avraham’s avodah of shacharis which draws down Hashem’s chessed into each day, in Yitzchak’s tefilla of mincha the avodah that is introduced is the capacity to transform the dinim to rachamim, sweetening the judgements, through finding Hashem even in the midst of everything, even in those places where it feels that He is hiding.
This capacity to find holiness in everything and desire to elevate everything to Hashem, even the layers of chaos, hiddeness and distance from Hashem within his son Esav, was also Yitzchak’s plan with the brachos. According to the Sfas Emes, Yitzchak knew Esav was not righteous, but Yitzchak’s bracha was intended to be able to find that kedusha and bring him close even from such a far away place. This was the bracha, he teaches, that Yaakov had to steal, not for himself but for his children. That no matter how far we fall, and how many layers of externals we are caught in we can still always find that point of kedusha. This is the Bracha we receive this week.
As we begin this month of kislev and head further into the winter months, let us remember and daven to find that Torah, the connection to Hashem, that point of kedusha in everything we encounter and light up the darkness with the light that is found from within.

Parshat Chayei Sarah

By Yehudis Golshevsky

After the death of Sorah Imeinu, the Zohar teaches that her diyokan–her essential persona–remained within her tent, but it lacked a means through which it could become manifest until Yitzchak brought Rivka home as his bride.

For three years, some form of her essence pervaded her private space–a space that no other woman entered into until Rivka arrived–but it needed a channel that had a spiritual affinity with her to find its expression again. During the three years between the akeida–which was when Sorah died–and the homecoming of Rivka, the three signs of the indwelling of the Shechinah in Sorah’s tent were absent. When Rivka came, they returned, and suddenly it was as though Sorah herself was present.
For Yitzchak, during those three years it was as if Sorah had never really died–her presence was still available in some way–but he was not truly consoled until Rivka manifested the essence of Sorah within her tent. This diyokan–some essence of Sorah palpably experienced within Rivka–was known to Avraham, but not experienced by him. The only person to experience it was Yitzchak…and this was what brought him comfort. Seeing his mother’s righteous ways, even the look of her face, mirrored in that of his wife, who continued in the pathway of Sorah Imeinu.
On a personal note, this piece of the Zohar has been affecting me very strongly this week, most likely because our father’s yohrtzeit is coming up soon. This idea that there’s some quality of the remnant of the lost parent that remains available to the child even when it is no longer available to the spouse left behind has moved me deeply even if I can’t fully articulate to myself why. Maybe it’s because a bereaved spouse can have another marriage–even though, of course, the first spouse retains such a hold on the heart–but we never can have another parent to replace the one that’s gone.
Maybe it’s because spouses had lives before they ever married, but children come into a world where their parents are always and forever their parents. I don’t know exactly why this piece has touched me so deeply, but I wanted to share it with you–the idea of the diyokan or “image” of Sorah that persisted until it found a suitable vessel to express itself again in the world through Rivka. And even though Rivka is an Eishes Chayil in her own right, this idea of the imahos superimposed together within the space of the tent, where souls are nourished and cultivated and the Shechinah is palpable overwhelms me with a sense of kedushah.
May we feel the holiness of our imahos within ourselves, and may our homes be a space in which the Shechinah dwells always.
Gut Shabbos!
Yehudis

Parshat VaYeira

By Micha Golshevsky

In this parshah we find that Avraham gave Yitzchak a bris milah when he was eight days old.

When the communists took over Lithuania, Rabbi Yankeleh Galinsky was staying with the local mohel, Reb Aizik. When the head of the KGB came for a visit, Aizik sent Rabbi Yankeleh to the door.

“Is this the house of the man who cuts infants?” What a way to describe milah!

“I think you came to the wrong house.”

Drey nit kein kup—don’t mess with me!” shouted the officer in Yiddish. “Where is he?!”

Hearing Yiddish, Rav Yankeleh figured it was going to be all right. “Reb Aizik, you can come to the door!”

The mohel came to the door with a very white countenance.

“Are you are the one who makes children Jews?” A much better depiction!

“Listen, we just had a baby boy. My wife keeps dreaming that her father is pushing her to give the child a bris.”

He gave his address.

“Come tomorrow at nine A.M. If all is clear you will see a woman with a basket leaving the house. The only one in our home will be a completely trustworthy maid…”

Reb Aizik said he would be there.

Although this meant he had to skip his regular job, which was dangerous enough, he was willing. The next morning Rav Aizik and his guest waited near the post office, one of the only buildings with a clock. At nine they arrived at the address and saw the woman leaving with the basket as described.

They entered the officer’s home and Reb Aizik performed the bris. As they were leaving the maid gave them a fortune in meal tickets at the better store for officers and the like, which was stocked plentifully and had no lines.

Later on, Rav Yankeleh ran into the baby’s father. “Why did you risk your position to give your son a bris?”

Rav Yankeleh often repeated his reply. “Right now the communists have the upper hand and I must work with them to live. But the Jewish people have survived for three thousand years and will surely outlive them, just like the sun always comes out after a cloudy day. Then it will be an honor to be Jewish. My son must know he is Jewish so that he can find his way home when the time comes.”

 

Parshat Lech Lecha

By Sarah Goldstein

This week, the Torah tells Avraham, and thereby us לך לך מארצך וממולדתך ומית אביך אל הארץ אשר אראך…

Hashem is asking each of us to leave the old ruts we are stuck in in so many areas in our lives, and go to our deepest self, as Rebbe Nachman and Reb Nosson teach us לך לך לעצמך, go from all your patterns that come from all these different layers of our past, to our most core essential self, our neshama, our deepest I. But in order to do so we must be willing to embark on the journey to the unknown, to be open to where Hashem is taking us. Avraham was already headed to Eretz Yisrael but they stopped in Charan. Going to the same destination but this time with the commandment of going to where Hashem shows him, opens up the opportunity to discover not just the destination but to find his neshama and Hashem along the way.
There is also another perspective on how to understand this passuk relating to us that I found particularly pertinent, brought down by the first Modzitzer Rebber, the Divrei Yisrael. He brings the Zohar Hakadosh who teaches that לך לך is the call of our neshama being sent into this world. The neshama lacks nothing in Shamayim, it is basking in Hashem’s presence, everything is perfect. But by being sent into this world, the the neshama gets something even higher, the capacity to be a הולך, to grow. This capacity for movement and growth is not possible even for malachim, as well as our neshama before it comes down to this world. This journey of becoming someone that can grow and move and become, לך לך, comes specifically מארצך, from being in this world, within just trying to do this world activities, going through the amount of challenges and bothers we go through to acquire things, to build keilim in this world, that builds us into someone who is growing all the time. Our challenges we face along the way of trying to actualise things in this world are not a hitch along the way, rather they ARE the way we become all we are meant to be. And this is how the passuk continues ואברכך- בבנים ובממון, Hashem says I will bless you with children and money because specifically in engaging with these blessings in this world will you become who you were meant to be, a הולך, a constantly growing person. We all encounter these “this worldly” challenges all the time and sometimes wonder why we have to spend so much time and devotion to these areas rather than areas we may term as Avodas Hashem. But the  Divrei Yisrael goes on to say, that even if engaging with these areas of children and parnassah and all that is attached in this world brings us to a nefila, to fall in our Avodas Hashem, it is a נפילה לצורך עליה, a vital stage in the process that eventually leads us to an even higher level of dveikus than before. Davka going through the challenges of this world, the frustrations and confusions of trying to do things and acquire things in this world, do we get to an even higher level than that which we were on when we were basking in Hashem’s light before coming into this world.
May we be constantly growing people, realising that the journey is bringing us far closer than we ever imagined, let us be open to Hashem taking us to the ארץ אשר אראך and come back to our neshama’s mission on this world.
Good shabbos,
Sarah Goldstein

Parshat Noach

Kindness to Animals

By Rav Micha Golshevsky

In Parshas Noach we find that Noach fed the animals in the ark a full solar year. But why did the flood last so long? The Midrash explains that Noach and his family were spared during the flood in the merit of this perpetual kindness.

The Midrash states that sometimes people are protected in the merit of the animals in their city. This is the meaning of the verse that “Hashem delivers man and beast.”

The Yad Efraim explains a well known halachah with this midrash. “Now we understand why one must feed his animals before himself. Even if a city is wicked its very survival can sometimes be in the merit of the innocent animals who dwell there!”

The Klausenberger Rebbe once remarked. “Our sages say that Hashem has mercy on those who show mercy to the briyos, to Hashem’s creations. It does not say one who has mercy on mankind, but rather on creations or creatures. Showing compassion for one’s animals arouses Hashem’s compassion on us even if we have sinned and are ‘hardly better than animals.’”

Rav David Feigels would carry a sack of different types of foods suitable for different species of birds from one courtyard to the next, just so that he could ensure that the birds were well fed throughout the cold winters. Many people in his area kept fowl, but assumed that they would just forage for themselves throughout the year. The Shomer Emunim would comment about this: “When it starts to freeze and the snow is on the ground, how are the animals and birds to forage? If their owners don’t feed them, and they are confined to their pens or their yards, then one should certainly provide for them!”

The Chazon Ish once spotted a non-kosher animal that had fallen into a deep ditch. The animal tried with all its might to climb out of the rut without success. The gadol was then with a group of people who seemed to look on the situation with resignation. They all just shrugged, as if to say, “What can we do?”

The Chazon Ish truly took the poor animal’s pain to heart. Without waiting for assistance from the others, he approached the pit and lowered himself down into it. Those with him could barely believe their eyes. The Chazon Ish actually carried the animal out of the ditch in his arms to set it free.

Good Shabbos!

Parshat Bereisheet

Art by Matthew Klaver

By Yael Dworkin

Breishis!! New Year. New Potential. New Beginnings.

We are all invited to create ourselves anew with authentically inspired
originality- to become wholesome, integrated, and complete. Putting away the mirror that only reflects the distortions of past limitations, rather, we are encouraged to look ahead and move forward with the permission to birth our great and holy potential, not yet actualized, not yet revealed. We have G-dly souls. We have that much ability to manifest. Baruch HaShem.

I could end this dvar Torah on this positive uplifting note- but I want to
share something more with you. Something I find oddly and counter
intuitively comforting. A teaching that holds within it the key with the
promise to open for us the way to developing into our holiest most
integrated potentials.

“And God saw all that He had made, and behold it was very good…”
(Breishit 1:31)
“Very Good- this is referring to death, the evil inclination, or calamities”
(Medrash Breishit Raba 9:5)
Everything that we consider ‘very bad’ is, in fact, categorically ‘very good’ (!?!). The medrash here is telling us that everything that exists, even the most damaging things in the world has a raison d’etre- a reason for being and a right to exist. All the pain we feel, all our disappointments, heartaches, fears, and losses we suffer are ‘very good’?

Yes. Very Good.

Rav Ashlag ztz”l, in his article called “Peace in the World”, explains:
In all the various classifications that exist in the world we see the law of
gradual development. For instance: before a fruit is ripe and juicy and
sweet, it is bitter. Everything that lives and breathes goes through stages of development that start from an unformed, undeveloped stage to gradually becoming what it was meant to be in its fully actualized form.

Because we understand this fundamental principle of gradual development, we would never consider that a tree baring unripe bitter fruits to be a bad tree- because we understand that the un-ripened fruits simply did not yet complete their growth and development. So too with all matters in existence, when a matter seems bad and harmful to us, this is not a testimony of the matter itself being bad- but rather, it is simply being seen at its transitional developing phase. Everything G-d created in this world is meant to ultimately serve the good in the world. It may not be evident in its transitional phases, but regarding where things are meant to get to- everything is Very Good.

Rav Ashlag ztz”l explains that this is equally true regarding our evil
inclinations. Our bad character traits are to be understood as mere stages in our development- necessary for our developing consciousness. As babies, we are born quite egocentric. It is a necessary stage of development. Developing and growing spiritually means replacing egotism with altruism. But it’s a process. We need healthy egos to start off with if our divine service is going to mean anything. Good has meaning in the context of bad. Transforming undesirable traits to good ones is the ultimate
in divine service. This is not an easy thing to do, as there is much
resistance, pain and suffering by the ego to let go of comfort and self-
serving desires. But the growth pain we go through, as we train ourselves to serve a higher purpose than simply ourselves, is very good because it is meant to take us to the ultimate good- which is dveikus (closeness) with G-d.

The world doesn’t always look to us to be such a good place. There is
death, suffering, calamities. The good news is that these scenarios are not the final chapter of the book. They are simply stages humanity has to go through until we will get to the final ripened stage of it being Very Good, until we will all be ‘very good’, understanding what we are meant to be and do. G-d created the world, but He also gave us the ultimate most complete instruction manual to go with it!

May we merit seeing with our own eyes soon the ultimate good. May we
merit to know to stay bsimcha (utter joy and happiness) when things look
awful, knowing how to develop correctly in the right direction to the Very
Good that was G-d’s intention when creating us and the world- Amen!

Good Shabbos
Yael Dworkin