Hello! My Name is G-d

Welcome to Parshat Yitro! One of the two places in the Torah where we're told about the Jewish people receiving the 10 Commandments.

People don't always question the 10 commandments considering that they're pretty fundamental principles of faith. But if there's anything to learn about Judaism, it's that we're a religion of questioning. So here's a Question...

Statement #1 of the Big Ten is: I am Hashem your G-d who took you out of Egypt. 

Now, t's really nice that G-d is introducing Himself to us from the get-go, but why is "the G-d who took you out of Egypt" the phrase He uses to describe Himself?  It seems to me that He's forgetting something from the top of His resume! How about: "I am Hashem your G-d, the CREATOR OF THE UNIVERSE!"  I would say that bringing the world into existence is a teensy bit more significant than saving a measly little nation from the bondage of slavery. G-d chooses instead to refer to Himself as the one who took us out of Egypt?! Really?! It's like your mom introducing herself as the one who drove carpool today instead of saying I'm the one who carried you for 9 months, gave birth to you, and have been dealing with the consequences of raising you ever since. So why isn't G-d going all out to sell Himself here?

Answer is.... drumroll please....that actually, G-d IS going all out -- and is doing so in a way that's far far better than calling Himself the Creator of the Universe.

Here's why:

The problem with referring to Himself as the Creator of the Universe is that G-d's goal in giving us the Torah is to build a relationship with us. (You should feel pretty awesome about that -- you basically got a marriage proposal from G-d).  Just like you build a strong relationship off of what you have in common, the problem with G-d introducing Himself as the Creator of the Universe is that when it comes to the creation of the world, WE WEREN'T THERE!

G-d wants us to know how much He cares about us, that He went through unbelievable measures to save us, and so "G-d who took you out of Egypt" is much more personal and is more important to our relationship than anything else -- even the creation of the world. (In case you were wondering why we seem to talk about leaving Egypt all the time, even in kiddush and on holidays, this may be part of the reason why).

But you know what's REALLY cool? G-d taking us out of Egypt ALSO shows His power as G-d, and that makes it an even better introduction.

1. It proves He created the world. (Only the One who created nature would be capable of  breaking all its laws through the 10 plagues and then would be successfully able to put the laws of nature back together again afterwards).

2. It proves that G-d is involved in the world, and didn't just abandon us after creation. (There's a lot of divine involvement in the story of the Exodus. Only a G-d who is actually involved in the world could specifically cast a plague on Egyptians and not the Jews when they were all so closely intermingled).

3. It proves that G-d is fair. (When the Egyptians drowned in the sea, they didn't all die the same way -- they died according to how evil they were. The ones who were not as bad had a quick death where they drowned in the water like heavy lead, whereas the really evil ones drowned like straw that takes a torturously long time to sink). 

At second glance, G-d's introduction is deep stuff. It confirms His power as an involved and just Creator of the world, who is choosing to build a relationship with us... His Jewish people.

Now that's pretty awesome. 

Nice to meet you, G-d. I'm glad to be on Your team.

Embracing Our Struggle

For many of us we have recently begun or will soon begin the second half of our school year. As the saying of our Sages goes, 'All beginnings are difficult' (Mechilta, Rashi on next week's Parsha, 19:5). The same is true in our spiritual growth. This week's parsha teaches us exactly that message, but with an added benefit. 

In what seems to be a peculiar event, Bnei Yisrael, after traveling away from the Red Sea, find themselves without water for three days. Finally, they find water in the city of Mara but it is too bitter to drink. After Moshe Rabbeinu davens to Hashem, Hashem throws a tree into the water and the water suddenly becomes sweet. What????

The Gemara in Bava Kama (84a) tells us that this "water" represents Torah. The Kli Yakar, developing this point, explains the analogy that the Torah is sometimes bitter, but we must know that it becomes sweet. 

In the beginning our spiritual growth, the task of Judaism seems awfully difficult, a bitter start. The more we do, however, the easier it becomes. Unlike, perhaps, other disciplines, the Torah path will lead us to fulfillment and purpose in our lives, a sweet ending. Let us not be discouraged by the struggle to attain our growth in Judaism, for that very bitterness is what leads to its sweetness. Have a great Shabbos.

Beshalach: Bitachon

By Devorah Goldson       

        In this week’s parsha, Beshalach, we read about how the
Jews left Egypt, crossed the Yam Suf, sang Az Yashir, and everything
that happened. The very first pasuk of the Parsha, tells us: “Now when
Paraoh had let the people go, G-d did not lead them by way of the land
of the Plishtim, because it was near- and G-d said: The people might
reconsider when they see war before them, and turn back to Mitzrayim.”
Hashem was so scared that the Jews would turn back; He took them on
the route which led them through the Yam Suf, a route that was much
longer than the normal way. The Torah also tells us that Bnei Yisroel
was fully armed when they left Egypt, yet they were still afraid. Both
of these psukim cause many commentators to question the phrases.

            Rashi gives an explanation, for why Hashem took them on
the longer way. He says that the Jews would leave Egypt, and become
afraid in the desert. They would want to turn back to Egypt, and if
Hashem had taken them on the straight path, it would’ve allowed for a
much easier return to Mitzrayim. That is one reason why Hashem took
them out on a longer path. By taking us out on the longer path, Hashem
made sure that the Jews wouldn’t turn around and go backwards, and
that way they would be able to get the Torah at Har Sinai, and then
enter the land of Israel.

            But there is still the question, of why would they be
afraid of war? If they had trust in G-d, who had literally just taken
them out of Egypt, and more importantly, if they were armed with
weapons- than what reason did they have for being afraid? Rav Hirsch
says that Bnei Yisroel weren’t lacking in courage physically, but they
were lacking in courage in their hearts. Most importantly, they lacked
trust in Hashem. The quality which gives a person the ability and
courage, no matter what task he is faced with, comes from having
bitachon in Hashem. That is what the Jews lacked when they left Egypt,
and that is why they were afraid. If they had had Bitachon, they
would’ve seen that Hashem was really taking care of them, and they had
no real need to be scared.

            Sometimes we don’t see what Hashem is doing, or why He
might be doing something. We might think that we know better than Him,
but really we don’t. Hashem takes us through life, sometimes in ways
that may seem unnecessary. We might not see the reason we have to go
through something, but in the end we realize that it was all for the
best. We have to have trust in Hashem, have bitachon, that Hashem will
take care of us, and faith that he will help us through the rough
times. When Hashem took the Jews out of Egypt, He took them on a path
that would make it harder for them to go back to a horrible place.
When we are faced with a challenge, and might want to turn back- we
should try and remember that really, there ultimately is a plan for
us. We might not see it at the time, but that’s the whole point of
life! G-d gives us people to help us through those challenges, and to
prevent us from going backwards, but we must do our part as well, and
have bitachon, and have the strength to keep moving on, to a place
that ultimately will be the best for us.

To be Free...

The beginning of this week's Parsha tells us something that would seem to contradict what we learned last week. At the end of Shemos, we were told that B'nei Yisrael fully believed in Moshe Rabbeinu and his guarantee to take them out of Mitzrayim (Shemos 4:31). In a surprising statement, the pasuk tells us this week that "they did not listen to Moshe due to their shortness of breath and their hard work" (6:9) when he spoke to them about being saved.

What happened between these two events that would illicit the opposite response from B'nei Yisrael?

The Netziv (Rav Naftali Tzvi Yehuda Berlin) points out that what Moshe said each time was different. As opposed to last week, where Moshe merely assured them their freedom from slavery, this week he added one more thing for B'nei Yisrael. Not only will they be taken out (v'hotzeiti), saved (v'hitzalti) and redeemed (v'ga'alti), they were also to be taken as Hashem's nation (v'lakachti). Here lies the difference. 

It is one thing to be taken out of a bad situation and allowed to be free from that. B'nei Yisrael were reluctant, however, to commit themselves to something else, to Hashem and His Torah. It is easy to take freedom by means of no responsibility, but one may not actually be free until he fulfills his or her role in this world. 

"There is no free man except he who toils in Torah" (Avos 6:2)

Individually Communal

Throughout our lives, we experience the tension between being an individual and being part of a community. How can we balance the two? How can we be sure to maintain our individual identities while also being part of a community at large? How can we make ourselves stand out in a community full of special people?

As we begin the book of Shmot (okay, I'm a little bit behind, we actually started Shmot this past shabbos), we see that the book of Shmot focuses on Bnei Yisrael as a whole, while Sefer Bereishit focused primarily on individuals' stories.

This begs the question: why does the book about community have the heading of "Shmot," which means names?

The community-oriented book is titled with exactly what it is that represents much of our identities: our names. A community must be comprised of many individuals; an individual, in order to maximize his or her potential, must be part of a community. Communities and individuals have a symbiotic relationship; they need each other to survive and to thrive.

We need an individual identity to establish our priorities and our intentions for our actions; we need a community to support and challenge us. I feel blessed to be part of the NCSY community, in which every individual is valued for who he or she is and what he or she brings to the supportive and powerfully inspiring community.

Taking the Time to Breathe

In this week's parsha, Parshat Shemot, Jewish slavery in Egypt begins. Strangely enough, as the work load increases there's no mention of the Jews complaining under the hard labor or crying out to Hashem. That is... until the day of the King of Egypt's death. Well, doesn't that seem like a strange time to cry? If anything, wouldn't they be excited by the death of the very king who was enslaving them? Now that he's dead, they can have hope that a new king might lift the strict work regimen and bring new policies!
Some commentaries explain the sudden Jewish cries by saying exactly that -- that it was after the death of the old king, and thus at the start of the new king's reign that they started crying. They were crying because it turned out that the new king was just as harsh as the old one. Before the death of the old king, the Jews looked forward to a light at the end of the tunnel, but now that the old one died and the new one was just as bad, all hope was lost. Time to turn to Hashem.
But I actually want to focus on a different approach -- that of the Netziv (Rav Naftali Tzvi Yehuda Berlin, Rosh Yeshiva of Volozhin in the mid 1800's).
He strengthen's our original question by saying that the Jewish people especially shouldn't have been crying on the day of the king's death. This is because all of Egypt was mourning his death, and it was a day off for the entire country. In other words, the Jews wouldn't have been working on that day! So why in the world is their one day off from work the day when they suddenly started crying?!
The Netziv explains the situation with a profound idea.
You know that feeling of being so incredibly busy that you have no time to think, and then finally Shabbos arrives, you get to put your life on hold, and you can finally give yourself a chance to breathe?
Well that's essentially what happened to the Jews. They were worked so hard while the old Pharaoh gradually brought them into slavery, that they never had a real opportunity to pause and think about the seriousness of the situation they were in. It was only on the day that the Pharaoh died, when they weren't working, that they had time to reflect on their awful situation, recognize it's gravity, and call out to Hashem for help.
Let's reflect this story back to us.
We spend our whole lives running and running and running in circles with all the things we have to get done, but do we ever give ourselves a moment to breathe? To think? To add meaning to our day? To thank God for the gifts He's given us? We're so busy with the tasks that fill up our daily routine that we don't get to reflect on (hopefully) the AWESOMENESS of our lives!
What if the busy-ness of life is stopping us from doing something as crucial for our well-being as asking for Hashem's help was for the Jews enslaved in Egypt?
Before we get lost in our school work once again, let's finish up our winter vacations by taking a step out of our routine. Close your eyes, reflect on the greatness of life, and breathe!

The Whole is Greater than the Sum of its Parts

This coming Shabbat we read Parshat Vayechi -- the final Parshah in Breishit, thereby completing the first book of the Torah. This is quite an accomplishment after weeks and weeks of consistently reading the parshah in shul from when we started with the first chapter of the Torah three months ago on Simchat Torah.
Interestingly enough, at the conclusion of the book of Breishit (and at the conclusion of each of the five books of the Torah for that matter), the congregation calls out in unison: "Chazak chazak v'nitchazeik" "Be strong, be strong, and we will be strengthened." The power of the words coming from the entire community usually gives me the chills.

But what exactly is so powerful? The truth is, the statement is pretty repetitive and would probably undergo some editing if any of my English teachers got a hold of it. Can't we just say, "Be strong" once? And isn't it obvious that if a person is strong that he will be strengthened?

But the line is teaching us something deeper: that if each individual becomes strong on his own, then the community as a whole will be strengthened. As soon as one individual becomes stronger, he raises the status of the entire community to new heights and his actions raise the bar for those around him. You can think of it as "peer pressure for the good." One person's positive actions to strengthen himself affects the entire community, raising expectations and bringing them to a level beyond where they were before.

As we move forward to the next book of the Torah, and recommit ourselves to learning G-d's word week by week, we turn to the community to support each other in this endeavor. We encourage everyone to let the completed book of the Torah take him to new heights, using what we've learned these past months to strengthen each individual's actions for the future.

We must realize that our actions don't stand alone, but that our entire community is behind us and depending on us.

So we ask every individual: Be strong, be strong! Because if you are, then WE will be strengthened!

[Looking forward to seeing the strength that each one of you brings to NCSY at Conclave!]

Post by, Sarina Miller

Parshat Vayishlach - Surmount the Struggle!

Looking for inspiration? The parsha, without fail, is a great place to start...

So here goes story time:

After leaving the house of his father-in-law Lavan, Ya'akov now heads back home to Israel and is preparing to reunite with his twin brother Eisav. But Ya'akov wasn't exactly anticipating a reunion filled with brotherly love. His last encounter with Eisav before Ya'akov's departure to the land of Charan was not exactly an agreeable one between the two of them. Ya'akov had just taken the valuable blessing of the first born from his father Yitzchak --- a blessing that his older brother Eisav was expecting to receive (despite the deal that was made between them over some red lentil soup, Breishit 25:32). Ya'akov left home in a hurry after the event. Eisav was not too happy about the scenario, and their mother Rivka was concerned that Ya'akov's life might actually be in danger if he stayed around for too long. 

So now, four wives and twelve children later, Ya'akov is facing his brother once again and is not sure how his brother will greet him. Ya'akov sends men to check out what Eisav's up to, and it turns out that he's approaching with 400 men! 

Afraid of what Eisav might be intending with such a large group, Ya'akov prepares for every possible scenario. In case Eisav is ready to go to war, Ya'akov splits his family into two camps -- hopefully even if one camp falls, the other will survive! He prays to G-d for protection, and he sends gifts of animals to his brother to appease him.

But perhaps even more interesting than the actual encounter that ensues between the two (don't worry, Ya'akov and the future of the Jewish people leave the reunion alive and well), is an encounter that Ya'akov has just beforehand with a mysterious someone. Ya'akov ends up in a struggle one-on-one with a nameless individual until dawn, and commentators have to bring in all kinds of explanations as to what's actually going on, because it's just so unclear! (The often quoted interpretation is that it was actually an angel of Eisav that Ya'akov was fighting with!) 

Rabbi Blau of Yeshiva University told me a powerful message that comes out of the line up of these two stories one after the other -- of Ya'akov and his preparations to meet Eisav followed by his personal struggle. 

The moral of the story was that we have to be like Ya'akov.

And here's why:

Ya'akov was someone who anticipated challenges that he might face in his future and did everything that was in his power to prepare for them to the best of his ability. And we should do the same! But it is also important to realize, that as much as you prepare, there is always those challenges that you can't predict -- that struggle with an unknown individual, be that someone else or yourself, that you never saw coming. Life is all about the struggle! A life without challenge is a life without accomplishments.They say that if a fish isn't swimming against the current, that means it's dead. In more positive terms, the surest sign of life is if you're up for the challenge.

There's an important ending to this story. Even though Ya'akov gets injured in the struggle, he ultimately comes out on top and leaves as an individual who is so much greater because of it -- he doesn't just survive the struggle, but he leaves with a new name: Yisrael. This is the name that is a source of pride to our people. It is attached to our nation, our homeland, and should inspire us daily to overcome every struggle we face.

Post by, Sarina Miller

Celebrate Your Appreciation

When we go somewhere, we know where we leave from. In the case of Yaakov Avinu, however, in this week's Parsha, the pasuk tells us first that he left B'er Sheva and then that he went to Charan! What is the significance in telling us that Yaakov left B'er Sheva?

Rashi tells us that the Torah emphasizes how Yaakov's leaving was more than a geographic relocation, but it also left B'er Sheva empty, deprived of the splendor that Yaakov provided.

The sad part of the story is how they only realized this after he left. Shlomo HaMelech says in one place that "He who found a wife has found goodness" (Mishlei 18:22). In another place, however, he says "And I find more bitter than death, the woman"(Koheles 7:26). The difference is in the tense of the statement. The Vilna Gaon explains that according to human nature the first pasuk speaks in the past tense- how things were good. The second is in the present, how one is constantly reminded of the bad.

In the spirit of giving thanks, let us not take anything for granted. Rather, let us recognize and outwardly appreciate all the good we have in our lives. Shabbat Shalom. 

Overview on the Parsha- Toldos

Taken from Ohr Somayach Institutions www.ohr.edu

After 20 years of marriage, Yitzchak's prayers are answered and Rivka conceives twins. The pregnancy is extremely painful. G-d reveals to Rivka that the suffering is a microcosmic prelude to the worldwide conflict that will rage between the two great nations descended from these twins, Rome and Israel. Esav is born, and then Yaakov, holding on to Esavs heel. They grow and Esav becomes a hunter, a man of the physical world, whereas Yaakov sits in the tents of Torah developing his soul. On the day of their grandfather Avrahams funeral, Yaakov is cooking lentils, the traditional mourner's meal. Esav rushes in, ravenous from a hard days hunting, and sells his birthright (and its concomitant spiritual responsibilities) for a bowl of lentils, demonstrating his unworthiness for the position of firstborn. A famine strikes Canaan and Yitzchak thinks of escaping to Egypt, but G-d tells him that because he was bound as a sacrifice, he has become holy and must remain in the Holy Land. He relocates to Gerar in the land of the Philistines, where, to protect Rivka, he has to say she is his sister. The Philistines grow jealous of Yitzchak when he becomes immensely wealthy, and Avimelech the king asks him to leave. Yitzchak re-digs three wells dug by his father, prophetically alluding to the three future Temples. Avimelech, seeing that Yitzchak is blessed by G-d, makes a treaty with him. When Yitzchak senses his end approaching, he summons Esav to give him his blessings. Rivka, acting on a prophetic command that the blessings must go to Yaakov, arranges for Yaakov to impersonate Esav and receive the blessings. When Esav in frustration reveals to his father that Yaakov has bought the birthright, Yitzchak realizes that the birthright has been bestowed correctly on Yaakov and confirms the blessings he has given Yaakov. Esav vows to kill Yaakov, so Rivka sends Yaakov to her brother Lavan where he may find a suitable wife.

How We Play the Hand

In a peculiar exchange of Parshas Toldos, Esav returns from the field to ask Yaakov "Let me swallow, please, that red, red [stuff]". Because of this request, the pasuk tells us, "they called him Edom", meaning "red" (Bereishis 25:30). 

This is not, however, the first encounter we see of Esav and redness. In fact, Esav was covered -already from the womb!- in red. Why is it that only now he was called "red" after this fairly vague and enigmatic statement regarding lentils? He was covered in red "like a hairy mantle" (Bereishis 25:25)! 

Regardless of what exactly Esav's statement implies, at the very least it reflects a perspective Esav cultivated on his own. His statement was a manifestation of some engrained attitude towards life. His naturally hairy body, on the other hand, was not his decision, it was merely a predisposition. 

We are all different, whether it be through our nature or our individually nurtured upbringings. The way we are judged and the legacy we leave is not based on how we are born or with what qualities we naturally contain. What matters is how we make the most of what we are given. 

"We cannot change the cards we are dealt, just how we play the hand." - Randy Pausch, The Last Lecture

How much are YOU willing to dig?

You Dig?

by Rabbi Shafner of Bais Abraham Congregation (aka Bais Abe) in St. Louis

In this weeks Torah portion, Toldot, the Torah tells us that, "Isaac re-dug the wells his father Abraham had dug, for the Philisteins had stopped them up.  Isaac renamed the wells just as his father Abrahm had."    If the Torah carefully picks and chooses what it tells us about our ancestors, why bother to tell us that they dug wells?  What are we meant to learn from this? 

The word for "well" in Hebrew is "Ba'er" which can also mean "to explain" or "to bring meaning to".  The Sefat Emet tells that our ancestors dug wells for water but that the Torah also means to tell us that they "dug into" the world to explain it to us in a unique way, to illuminate its spirituality which is often hidden.  This is the legacy our ancestors started and the gift they each gave to us in their own particular way through their "digging".  How do you dig the world to uncover its depth and spiritual meaning?

The Jewish Response to Hardship

When you look through the book of Beraishit it is hard not to be struck by the sheer tenacity of our Patriarchs and Matriarchs to not only persevere under sometimes crushing and challenging circumstances, but to emerge from the event and courageously shoulder on  engaging whatever next life places before them. This model of defying life’s frustrations and defeats and refusing to retire from the struggle no matter its difficulty finds expression in an interesting phrase that repeats itself in our Parsha.

R. Stuart Weiss offers this fascinating insight.

The Parsha we read yesterday speaks broadly of three events: The death of Sarah, the purchase of Me’arat Ha’machpela, and the shidduch and subsequent marriage of Rivkah and Yitzchok. A possible thread that connects these narratives is the use of the verb, va’yakam, to rise up, which repeats itself in all three cases. To illustrate:

- When Avraham is done mourning Sara, the pasuk says, “VAYAKAM Avraham, and Avraham arose…”

- And when Eliezer is sent to find a wife for Yitzchok, the verse says, “VAYAKAM vayelech, and he arose and went …”

- And to cap it all off, when Rivkah assents to the marriage, VATAKAM Rivka…va’taylachna, and Rivkah arose and went ….”

After the trauma of Sarah’s death, we would certainly have been sympathetic if Avraham had chosen to retire from the stage of history, but he does not. He’s alive and there’s more living to be done. There’s a son to be married off along with another 50 years to father six more children. And Avraham rises up!

Both Rivkah and Yitzchok’s “rising” would also signify a new and important chapter in their lives. Rivkah would leave a home filled with idolatry and chicanery for a new life of chesed and emes (kindness and truth) as she helps to forge our nation. And Yitzchok would emerge from the ordeal of the Akeida to find love and companionship with his wife and take his rightful place among our Forefathers.

The message here is quite plain. When faced with adversity and hardship, our spiritual DNA, “hard-wired” for us by our ancestors, kicks in. First we know to endure bravely and then “va’ya’kam,” to rise up and push forward.

What a metaphor for Jewish renewal this is! It is this behavior of vayakam, most recently witnessed when in the aftermath of Sandy’s devastation so many rose up and displayed the uncommon courage to reclaim and restore and the blessed ethic to help and share, that inspires and gives us all strength – chizuk! We salute them all.

(from Rabbi Jeffrey Bienenfeld)

Avraham's Healing Stone

The gemara says that Avraham Avinu wore a precious stone that would immediately heal any sick person who looked at it. But chazal also say that in the days of Avraham, there were no sick people!

So how do we explain this special stone that Avraham wore?

The Slominer Rebbe gives an incredible explanation:  

Avraham Avinu, like all great tzaddikim, was compared to the sun. Just like the sun gives life to all of the creations with its light and warmth, so too a tzaddik embodies the middot of chesed and ahava, by giving kindness and love to all people. It wasn’t the stone that did the actual healing, but it was Avraham himself. Anyone who saw Avraham would be healed immediately, because they saw that his entire character was one of kindness and sweetness. The people who were healed by Avraham weren’t those with physical sicknesses, but they were those who were suffering from a broken heart, from being overwhelmed by the stresses of life.  By looking at Avraham these people would recognize that there is such more to live for despite the challenges they were going through.

A true tzaddik will give life to a person by making them feel like a person, like they are worth the whole world. Rav Moshe Weinberger says that “the nature of a tzaddik is not being able to bear seeing people not being who they can be.”

Avraham Avinu teaches us how to be a genuine tzaddik. A tzaddik has the koach to heal broken hearts, to bring out the good in people to enable them to recognize their own greatness.

We should all strive to become a tzaddik, to embody the middot of chesed and ahava and empowering people to reach their potentials!

Have a beautiful Shabbos!

(Based on a shiur from Rav Moshe Weinberger: Avraham’s healing stone)