Insight of the WeekRelevant weekly insights by Rabbi Joey Haber - delivered directly to your computer and/or mobile devicehttps://itorah.com/weekly-inspire/searchen-usCopyright 2024 iTorah.comThu, 28 Mar 2024 08:00:00 -0500Thu, 28 Mar 2024 08:00:00 -0500http://blogs.law.harvard.edu/tech/rssitorahwebsite@gmail.comRabbi Joey HaberRelevant weekly insights by Rabbi Joey HaberInsights into the weekly parasha or upcoming holiday by Rabbi Joey HaberTorah Learning Resources.itorahwebsite@gmail.comNoWords That Motivatehttps://learntorah.com/content/50b02e48-cef2-4efe-b954-908a2c2497f7.mp3I once went into a classroom of 8 th -grade girls before Rosh Hashanah to speak to them about growth and change. I began by asking each student to specify one thing which she would like to change during the upcoming new year. I was expecting to hear answers such as “Improve my concentration during prayer,” “Being more careful about saying berachot ,” “Avoiding lashon ha’ra ,” and “Being more respectful to my parents.” But that’s not what the girls answered. One girl said, “My nose is too big.” Another said, “My hair is too curly.” A third girl said that she was too short and wanted to grow taller. I realized that these girls had a problem – they didn’t like themselves very much. They felt very insecure about their looks. I also realized that I needed to discard the class that I had prepared to give them, and to do something else, instead. I asked them to name the most famous painting in the history of art. Naturally, they replied, “the Mona Lisa.” I told them that I’ve seen pictures of the Mona Lisa, and, to be honest, I don’t particularly like the painting. It doesn’t strike me as anything special. But it doesn’t matter. It was created by one of the most famous and accomplished painters of all time (Leonardo da Vinci), and is regarded by art experts and enthusiasts as one of the greatest pieces of art ever produced. “Each and every one of you was created by Hashem, who is, without question, the greatest ‘artist’ ever,” I explained to the girls. “It doesn’t matter if somebody isn’t impressed by your looks. Each one of you is beautiful. You are all exactly the way you are supposed to be.” I tell this story here not to boast about my quick thinking, but to show how people today – especially young people – struggle with doubt and insecurity. One of the challenges educators face in today’s day and age is to motivate and encourage their students, rather than push them down further. And therefore, they need to be extremely careful in the way they speak to their students. They must ensure to speak in a way that motivates them, and not in a way that exacerbates their fears and self-doubt. In Parashat Tzav, we read of the miluim , the seven-day process whereby Aharon and his sons were formally consecrated as kohanim . Hashem began His commands by instructing Moshe, קח את אהרון ואת בניו איתו – “Take Aharon and his sons with him….” Rashi explains this to mean, קחנו בדברים ומשכהו – “Take him with words, and draw him.” Aharon and his sons likely had doubts about their worthiness for this lofty role. Hashem told Moshe to “take” them with words, to encourage and reassure them. This directive is given also to every educator and every parent. Children today are beset by fears and insecurities. We need to “take” them with words, to assure them that they are capable, that they are beautiful, that they are important, that they are full of goodness and full of potential. It is our responsibility to help them overcome their fears, to introduce them to their inner greatness, so they will be motivated and driven to put in the work necessary to achieve.Thu, 28 Mar 2024 08:00:00 -0500Rabbi Joey HaberRabbi Joey HaberNoAn insight a week from Rabbi Joey Haber - Brought to you by itorah.com An insight a week from Rabbi Joey Haber - Brought to you by itorah.comParasha, Parsha, Sedra, Chumash, Hashkafa, Jewish outlookShabbat Zachor- Hashem's Planhttps://learntorah.com/content/d3f6a7c8-9fa0-43af-a674-67c1ec16027f.mp3On Shabbat Zachor – the Shabbat before Purim – we read as the haftarah the story of the war waged by Shaul, the first king of Israel, against the wicked nation of Amalek (Shmuel I, chapter 15). Haman descended from this nation, and so on this Shabbat, we read of the war that was fought between our ancestors and Haman’ ancestors. The story begins with the prophet Shmuel conveying to Shaul Hashem’s command to eradicate the entire nation of Amalek. Shaul promptly mobilized an army and waged war against Amalek, but he fell short of full compliance with Hashem’s command. He allowed Amalek’s king, Aggag, to live, bringing him alive as a prisoner of war, instead of killing him. Additionally, he allowed the people to bring with them Amalek’s animals as spoils of war, rather than killing them as Hashem had instructed. Shmuel later approached Shaul, and Shaul proudly proclaimed, הקימותי את דבר ה' – “I have fulfilled G-d’s word” (Shmuel I 15:13). The prophet then proceeded to inform Shaul that he would be punished for failing to comply with Hashem’s command by keeping alive Aggag and the animals. Shmuel then went over to Aggag, who was being held prisoner, and killed him. We might ask, what is the meaning of Shaul’s declaration, הקימותי את דבר ה' – that he fulfilled G-d’s word? If he did not fully comply, why did he say that he did? The answer can perhaps be found in the Midrash’s account of the events. The Midrash teaches that Shmuel killed Aggag the day after he was captured by Shaul. During the night in between, he had a relationship, fathering a child. That child would turn out to be the ancestor of Haman, who sought to annihilate the Jewish Nation. As we know from the Megillah, Haman’s plot not only failed, but also backfired. It led to his execution and the execution of his children, and, moreover, it resulted in the ascension of Mordechai, his nemesis, to the position of vizier – the position which Haman had held. And, Haman’s edict inspired a process of repentance and growth among the Jews. The Megillah says that in the aftermath of Haman’s downfall and the Jews’ victory over their enemies, קיימו וקיבלו היהודים (9:27), which the Gemara (Megillah 88a) explains to mean that the Jews reaffirmed their ancient commitment to the Torah ( קיימו עליהם מה שקיבלו כבר ). The fear of Haman’s decree had the effect of the awakening the people to teshuvah , and bringing them back to Hashem and to Torah devotion. With all this in mind, we can perhaps go back to Shaul’s remark to Shmuel: הקימותי את דבר ה' . Without realizing it, Shaul was affirming that he was fulfilling Hashem’s plan. Of course, he acted incorrectly. He should not have kept Aggag alive. He did not fulfill Hashem’s command. But ultimately, Hashem’s plan was fulfilled through his mistake. Shaul disobeyed Hashem – but Hashem saw to it that His plan would be carried out through this misdeed. This might be the meaning of הקימותי את דבר ה' – that Hashem’s plan was, ironically enough, fulfilled through Shaul’s mistake. Hope and optimism are integral components of the Jewish experience. We do not give up, we do not despair, and we do not wallow in helplessness or guilt. When we encounter difficult situations – and even when we created these situations through our own mistakes and wrongdoing – we do not break down. We maintain our belief that Hashem can turn every curse into a blessing, and can transform any misfortune into a source of joy. Instead of despairing, we get to work doing everything we can to help one another, and to try to grow from the experience. Just as the Jews utilized the crisis of Haman’s edict as a catalyst for positive change and growth, we, too, must strive to turn every challenge and every failure into a meaningful learning experience, recognizing that they, too, are very much part of Hashem’s plan, and that they offer us the opportunity to improve ourselves and strengthen our connection to Him.Sun, 17 Mar 2024 08:00:00 -0500Rabbi Joey HaberRabbi Joey HaberNoAn insight a week from Rabbi Joey Haber - Brought to you by itorah.com An insight a week from Rabbi Joey Haber - Brought to you by itorah.comParasha, Parsha, Sedra, Chumash, Hashkafa, Jewish outlookPurim- The Hidden Sparkhttps://learntorah.com/content/ec3fae41-b6f8-40b4-afe8-3b1d07c5e48c.mp3The Gemara in Masechet Megillah (12a) tells that the students of Rabbi Shimon bar Yohai asked him why the Jews at the time of Mordechai and Ester deserved the decree of annihilation. Rabbi Shimon challenged them to suggest their own answer. They proposed that the Jews deserved to be destroyed because they participated in Ahashverosh’s feast. Rabbi Shimon noted that if this were true, then only the Jews of Shushan deserved the decree, because the king’s feast was only for the city’s inhabitants. But what about the rest of the Jews? Why were they also condemned to annihilation? The answer, Rabbi Shimon said, is that השתחוו לצלם – the people had bowed to the statue of the Babylonian emperor Nevuchadnetzar. For this misdeed, G-d decreed that they should be killed. Rabbi Shimon’s students then asked him why the decree was ultimately rescinded. If they were indeed guilty of bowing to an idol, then why were they not destroyed? Rabbi Shimon answered, הם לא עשו אלא לפנים אף הקב"ה לא עשה עמהן אלא לפנים . This means that since they did not really intend to worship the idol, even though they appeared to, Hashem similarly made it appear that they would be annihilated, whereas they were in fact spared. What is this exchange all about? How does this discussion add to our understanding of the Purim story? The answer is found in a pasuk in the Book of Vayikra (16:16) that says about Hashem, השוכן אתם בתוך טומאתם – He resides among us even in our state of impurity. The Rabbis explain that no matter how low a Jew falls, he has a spark of sanctity within him that continues to burn. We have an element of kedushah (sanctity) inside us that remains even when we sin, even if we sin repeatedly, and even if we sin severely. This spark is like the pilot light of old gas stoves. Even if the burners were all turned off, they could be easily ignited because the pilot light always remained on. Similarly, even if we fall into a state of impurity, we can be “ignited” again because of the spark of spirituality within us. There is, however, one exception to this rule, one “Kryptonite” that can extinguish that inner spark. And that is false or distorted beliefs. If people act wrongly and fall into bad habits due to their normal human weaknesses, the “pilot light” will still burn. But once they subscribe to foreign ideologies, and reject Torah beliefs, that inner spark could, G-d forbid, be extinguished. This concept lies at the heart of the discussion regarding the Purim story. If the people were guilty of excessive or inappropriate indulgence, participating in Ahashverosh’s decadent feast, this would not extinguish their spark. Rabbi Shimon’s students understood that if this were the people’s sin, they could recover and have the decree rescinded because of the spark of kedushah that remained within them. But if their sin was idolatry, bowing to a statue, then how could they be forgiven? False beliefs and ideologies destroy everything. Why were the people saved? Rabbi Shimon answered that the Jews of that time did not actually embrace idolatrous beliefs. They bowed down to the idol due to the pressure applied by the people around them – which was wrong – but deep inside, the “pilot light” continued burning strong. This explains the time-honored custom to dress up in costumes on Purim. This is not just silliness. It contains a very profound message – that we are far more than what we outwardly appear to be. True, we are far from perfect, we often make mistakes, and we do things wrong from time to time. But all this is just a “costume.” Our true selves, concealed deep within our beings, are pure and sacred. Our failures don’t define who we are. Our true essence is holiness and spirituality. We are sometimes lured by external pressures and temptations, but deep inside, we are pure and righteous. This might also be the symbolism of the hamantaschen treat that we customarily eat on Purim. The outside is plain dough, but inside there is a sweet filling – because deep inside, we are all “sweet.” Our inner greatness and purity are often hidden – but on Purim, we remind ourselves that of who we really are. Purim assures us of our potential to be great, to shine, and to excel. We must not feel discouraged by our mistakes and failures, because they do not represent our true selves. We must always remember that our core essence is pure and sacred, that we have a spark that is waiting to be ignited into a giant, raging flame of spiritual greatness.Mon, 11 Mar 2024 08:00:00 -0500Rabbi Joey HaberRabbi Joey HaberNoAn insight a week from Rabbi Joey Haber - Brought to you by itorah.com An insight a week from Rabbi Joey Haber - Brought to you by itorah.comParasha, Parsha, Sedra, Chumash, Hashkafa, Jewish outlookMaking Shabbathttps://learntorah.com/content/926c6942-1b4d-4c8c-87c1-106db7a9bf91.mp3Parashat Vayakhel begins with Moshe Rabbenu assembling Beneh Yisrael to convey to them the commands for the building of the Mishkan . But before speaking about the Mishkan , Moshe first told the people that they must observe Shabbat each week. The Rabbis explained that the mitzvah of Shabbat is connected to the construction of the Mishkan because the 39 melachot , or categories of activity that are forbidden on Shabbat, are derived from the building of the Mishkan . The 39 types of work that were needed for the building of the Mishkan are the 39 types of work which are prohibited on Shabbat. We must ask, why is this the case? Why is it specifically these categories of work – the activities needed when the Mishkan was built – that the Torah forbids us to do on Shabbat? To understand this connection between Shabbat and the Mishkan , let us briefly look at a pasuk in last week’s parashah , Parashat Ki-Tisa, regarding the mitzvah of Shabbat observance: ושמרו בני ישראל את השבת, לעשות את השבת לדורותם – “ Beneh Yisrael shall observe Shabbat, to make Shabbat for all their generations” (31:16). It is significant that the Torah here describes Shabbat observance as an action, as something that we are to do, or produce – לעשות . We would have assumed that we observe Shabbat by not doing , by refraining from certain things, by not going to work, by not driving, by not turning on our phones, by not cooking, and so on. To our surprise, the Torah commands us to “make” Shabbat – לעשות את השבת . What does this mean? The answer is that we are to make Shabbat a special day, a sacred day, a day of spiritual elevation. Someone who thinks that all he needs to do on Shabbat is refrain from the activities that are forbidden will not properly observe Shabbat. It goes without saying that abstaining from these activities is crucially important. But that is not enough. We need to “make” Shabbat by utilizing it not just for physical rest, but for kedushah , for spirituality, to grow and to deepen our connection with Hashem. We might draw an analogy to a spouse who simply checks off everything on the list of obligations to the other spouse. Practically, the spouse does everything required, but he or she does not invest time or emotional energy into the relationship, and does not work to build an emotional connection. Nobody would consider this person a good spouse. Checking all the boxes isn’t enough. The couple is expected to build something far more special and far more meaningful than just a practical arrangement whereby each side fulfills certain responsibilities. The same is true of Shabbat. Even if we ensure to avoid doing everything that is forbidden on Shabbat, we haven’t properly observed Shabbat unless we “make” Shabbat, turning it into a special day, a day of kedushah . This explains the connection between Shabbat and the Mishkan . Shabbat is to time what the Mishkan is to space. Just as the Mishkan is a special place of sanctity, distinct from everywhere else, so must Shabbat be a special time of holiness that is completely different from every other day. Shabbat cannot be just a Sunday without driving and without phones. It must be a Mishkan , a time when we reconnect with our families, with Torah, and with Hashem. Not coincidentally, the Torah begins this parashah by telling us that Moshe assembled Beneh Yisrael : ויקהל משה את כל עדת בני ישראל , Since time immemorial, Shabbat has been a time of gathering, when Jews come together for prayer, for Torah learning, and for spiritual elevation. A key component of “making” Shabbat is ויקהל , coming to shul for prayer and attending Torah classes. This is one of the important ways we make a Shabbat a sacred day. A second way is indicated by Moshe’s instruction to the people in this parashah : לא תבערו אש בכל מושבותיכם ביום השבת – “You shall not kindle a fire in all your residences on the day of Shabbat” (35:3). Of all the many different Shabbat prohibitions, lighting a fire is the only one which is stated explicitly by the Torah. The explanation might be that the Torah here is teaching us to keep away the “fire” of stress and negativity on Shabbat. Throughout the week, we “light fire,” dealing with the stresses and struggles of life, and exposing ourselves to all the negativity in the media and social media. On Shabbat, all this needs to be kept out. If Shabbat is going to be our “ Mishkan ,” an experience of kedushah , we need to block out all the noise, all the tension, the controversies, the arguments, and the struggles. Shabbat must be a day of peace, joy and serenity, free of the “fire” of negativity. Let us make a commitment to not just keep Shabbat, but to “build” Shabbat like our ancestors built a Mishkan , making it a special day that uplifts us and rejuvenates both our bodies and our souls.Mon, 04 Mar 2024 08:00:00 -0500Rabbi Joey HaberRabbi Joey HaberNoAn insight a week from Rabbi Joey Haber - Brought to you by itorah.com An insight a week from Rabbi Joey Haber - Brought to you by itorah.comParasha, Parsha, Sedra, Chumash, Hashkafa, Jewish outlookThe Large “Bird” in Our Headshttps://learntorah.com/content/66933789-2b64-4e8b-83a9-fe914ab29e20.mp3The Gemara (Gittin 56b) tells a mysterious story about Titus, the Roman general who destroyed the Bet Ha’mikdash . Titus was exceptionally arrogant, and boasted that he was far more powerful than the G-d of Israel. Hashem punished Titus by having a tiny mosquito fly into his nostril and up into his head. There it continually pecked, causing Titus extreme pain. Hashem showed Titus that he could be defeated by the tiniest of creatures. The Gemara concludes the story by telling that after Titus’ passing, his head was opened, and it was discovered that the minuscule mosquito had grown to the size of a very large bird. Much of this story, of course, is a mystery. But on the symbolic level, its message, I think, is very clear. The Gemara here is describing how very small, trivial things become very big things in our head. Something somebody said or did bothers us, and we turn it into a much bigger deal than it is. We have some small problem to deal with, and it becomes an enormous “bird” in our heads, causing us a great deal of anxiety, “pecking” away incessantly, preventing us from functioning normally. Often, this “bird” is something that another person has that we don’t. We see that person’s house, car, clothes or kids, and we are overcome by jealousy or resentment. We see somebody who excels or achieves in a way that we don’t, and it eats us up. It becomes a gigantic “bird” in our minds, incessantly “pecking” at our brains, not allowing us a moment of joy and contentment. The opening pesukim of Parashat Ki-Tisa perhaps teach us how to handle these feelings, how to get rid of this “bird” once and for all. These pesukim introduce the mitzvah of מחצית השקל – the half-shekel tax that every member of the nation would donate each year during the times of the Bet Ha’mikdash . The Torah commands that everybody must give this precise amount – half a shekel. Nobody was allowed to give more or less. Many have asked the question of why the Torah required specifically this amount – a half-shekel. Why shouldn’t the people be obligated, or at least allowed, to donate a full shekel? The answer might be that the Torah wants us all to acknowledge that we have only a “half,” that we are not “whole,” that we all have things which we think we need, things that we lack, things that bother us, things that make us upset. There is not a single person who is “whole,” whose life is perfect, who has everything he needs and wants. If we ever find ourselves feeling jealous or resentful of another person who has something that we don’t, we need to know a little secret: that person, and all people, are lacking something. They, too, have problems. They, too, are struggling and having a hard time with something. We are all just half a shekel. If we want to get rid of the “bird” in our heads, we need to recognize this reality of the מחצית השקל , that everyone has only “half,” only some of what they want. Nobody is whole. Hashem gives us all a מחצית , some of what we want, but not all, and we are to feel content with what He has given us. This perspective will prevent the “mosquito” from turning into a “bird.” It will help us to stop obsessing over the small problems and issues that we deal with, as we realize that Hashem gives everybody some – but not all – of what we want, because He, and only He, knows what we need to achieve and maximize our potential. As just one example, I will share a story that is, basically, true, with some of the details changed. Two sisters had a successful business, working together baking and selling cupcakes. Everything we going well until one sister decided to break away and start her own business, taking all the customers with her. The other sister was enraged. She was so angry that she nearly lost her mind, and could not function. I tried explaining to her that the real problem was not that her sister took away her customers, but rather that she was obsessing over it, that she was allowing this to become a “bird,” that this was causing her debilitating anger and resentment. If she could just get this “bird” out of her head, then she could focus on rebuilding her business. And the way to do this is through emunah , by realizing that Hashem has given her the מחצית that she needs. This has nothing to do with her sister. If her sister did something wrong, then this is Hashem’s business. Her job is to move on. Let us prevent the mosquito from becoming a bird. Let’s stop obsessing, worrying, resenting and feeling jealous, and always feel happy and content with the מחצית that Hashem has graciously given us, trusting that this is exactly what we need.Mon, 26 Feb 2024 08:00:00 -0500Rabbi Joey HaberRabbi Joey HaberNoAn insight a week from Rabbi Joey Haber - Brought to you by itorah.com An insight a week from Rabbi Joey Haber - Brought to you by itorah.comParasha, Parsha, Sedra, Chumash, Hashkafa, Jewish outlookEarning Respecthttps://learntorah.com/content/c9cedf54-5e07-4dfe-9650-ba2488c2d977.mp3In Parashat Tetzaveh, the Torah elaborates at great length on the topic of the bigdeh kehuna , the special garments worn by the kohanim . Every kohen was to wear four special garments, and the kohen gadol wore an additional four garments. The Torah takes these garments very, very seriously. If a kohen performs the service in the Bet Ha’mikdash and is missing even one of the required garments, he is חייב מיתה בידי שמיים – liable to death at the hands of G-d. The Sefer Ha’hinuch explains the reason why the Torah was so strict in demanding that kohanim wear these special garments. Wearing this clothing, the Sefer Ha’hinuch writes, reminds the kohen of his unique status, of his distinguished position as a servant of Hashem in the Bet Ha’mikdash . There will be days when a kohen is not so focused, when he feels unmotivated, when he is simply “not in the mood” to do the work that he is required to do. When he puts on these special garments, this has an effect on his mentality. It makes him mindful of his importance, of the significance of his role, of the great responsibility that he bears. Underlying these comments of the Sefer Ha’hinuch is a general principle that our mindset is impacted by our actions. If we’re not in the mood to do something, the best solution is to get started, to take the first steps. If we feel incapable of change, if we feel stuck, the best advice is to take action, to make one small change. Even if we don’t feel connected to Hashem, and we feel unmotivated to perform the mitzvot , we should try to do something, to say one prayer, to attend one class, to do one mitzvah , and this will have the effect of slowly changing our mood and attitude. The concept of the bigdeh kehuna is directly relevant to each and every one of us in another way, as well. The Gemara teaches that Rabbi Yohanan would refer to his clothing as מכבדותי – “that which gives me dignity.” A person’s clothing gives him his respect and dignity. When we wear an old, worn-out t-shirt and walk around in our slippers, we do not take ourselves as seriously as we do when we’re dressed in fine, formal attire. Like the kohanim , we all have a job to do. We all have to serve Hashem, each person in his or her own capacity. And like the kohanim , we need to dress in a manner that suits our job. If we dress respectably, we are far more likely to take ourselves seriously, be mindful of our importance and worth, and do our job to the very best of our ability. Indeed, studies have shown that employers place a great deal of importance on a job candidate’s dress and appearance during the hiring process. A person who dresses in a respectable manner is more likely to do his or her job well. This message is important also for another reason. Many people feel that they do not receive respect from the people around them – from their spouse, from their children, from their peers, etc. The most important thing we can do to earn respect is to carry ourselves with respect and dignity. Children are unlikely to respect a parent who slouches, who walks around the house in old, worn-out clothes, and who does not speak in a dignified manner. When we carry ourselves with dignity, this will enhance our own sense of self-worth, and will, in turn, invite the respect of other people. Instead of complaining that we do not receive respect, we need simply to begin respecting ourselves – and this begins with dressing, speaking and acting in a dignified manner. If we conduct ourselves respectfully, we will respect ourselves – and we will then be respected by other people, too.Sun, 18 Feb 2024 08:00:00 -0500Rabbi Joey HaberRabbi Joey HaberNoAn insight a week from Rabbi Joey Haber - Brought to you by itorah.com An insight a week from Rabbi Joey Haber - Brought to you by itorah.comParasha, Parsha, Sedra, Chumash, Hashkafa, Jewish outlookAre We Turning Our Homes Into Sanctuarieshttps://learntorah.com/content/4c86182a-db3f-495e-9cf7-a8b3de60e7b9.mp3Parashat Teruma tells about the Mishkan , the portable sanctuary which Beneh Yisrael built at Mount Sinai, and which they took with them as they traveled through the wilderness and crossed into the Land of Israel. It was eventually replaced by the Bet Ha’mikdash in Jerusalem. The main area of the Mishkan featured three furnishings: 1) a menorah , which was kindled each evening; 2) a mizbe’ah (altar); 3) a shulhan (table), on which bread was displayed. The commentators explained that these three pieces of furniture in the Mishkan allude to the three ways in we are to turn our homes into “sanctuaries,” into places of holiness, worthy of Hashem’s presence. First, we need to have a menorah – the “light” of Torah. The pasuk in Mishleh (6:23) states, כי נר מצוה ותורה אור – Torah is likened to light, as it illuminates our path, showing us how to live our lives. The menorah is the symbol of Torah learning, and its presence in the Mishkan teaches us of the need to make our homes places of Torah study. Secondly, our homes need to feature a mizbe’ah – representing the service of Hashem. The offerings brought in the Bet Ha’mikdash are substituted today with prayer. This, too, must be a regular fixture in our home. If we want Hashem’s presence in our homes, we need to bring Him there by regularly calling to Him in prayer. The final piece of furniture in the main area of the Mishkan was the shulhan . The table, where we have our meals, represents hesed (kindness), using our “bread” – our livelihood – for dispensing kindness. This is the third thing we need to do so our homes become a sanctuary – make them places of hesed , where we give to other people. As the famous Mishna in the beginning of Pirkeh Avot teaches: על שלשה דברים העולם עומד – על התורה ועל העבודה ועל גמילות חסדים . The world rests on the three “pillars” of Torah learning, service of Hashem, and kindness. Correspondingly, we make our homes into places of kedushah (sanctity), worthy of Hashem’s presence, by using them for these three “pillars.” Many of us probably think that we already do this. They proudly display Torah books on the shelves, they make time for Torah classes, they pray, and they give charity. If we do this, does this mean that we’ve succeeded into making our homes into a Mishkan ? The story is told of a school which told its students before parent-teacher meetings to write on a piece of paper the most important rule in their homes. The school wanted that when the parents arrived for meetings that night, they would see what their children feel is the most important rule enforced in the home. The parents arrived, expecting to find notes such as, “Say a berachah before eating”; “No lashon ha’ra ”; “Say Shema before bedtime.” Instead, they found notes such as, “Don’t walk with shoes on the carpet”; “No hands on the shades.” These parents were shown that while they certainly paid lip service to Torah and mitzvot , the message they were giving their kids was that the house’s physical appearance was the most important thing. When parents speak to their children about their future, how much time do they spend talking about college and employment, and how much time do they spend talking about religious observance, about allocating significant time for Torah, and for praying with a minyan ? How much time is spent at the table talking about celebrities, such as sports players and politicians, and how much time is spent talking about great Rabbis and what we can learn from them? How much time is spent talking about sports and politics, and how much time is spent sharing divreh Torah ? There was one more piece of “furniture” in the Mishkan – the sacred aron (ark), which contained the tablets which Moshe Rabbenu brought from Mount Sinai, as well as the first Torah scroll. The aron was kept behind a curtain, and nobody ever went inside that section of the Mishkan , except the kohen gadol on Yom Kippur. The aron represents the essence of what the Mishkan was about. It wasn’t seen, but everyone was aware that this is what was kept inside the Mishkan , and it defined the building’s core identity. If our children would be asked, “What is the aron of your home? What is its core essence, its identity?” – what would they answer? In order to turn our homes into a Bet Ha’mikdash , we need to strive to ensure that “deep inside,” the thing that our homes are all about, is Hashem. Torah, prayer and hesed must not merely be things that we do from time to time, activities that we fit into our schedule. We need to make it clear to our children – and to ourselves – that these are the essence of the home, the “pillars,” the foundations upon which we build our homes. If we can do this, then we will turn our homes into a Mishkan , worthy of Hashem’s presence and Hashem’s endless blessings.Wed, 14 Feb 2024 08:00:00 -0500Rabbi Joey HaberRabbi Joey HaberNoAn insight a week from Rabbi Joey Haber - Brought to you by itorah.com An insight a week from Rabbi Joey Haber - Brought to you by itorah.comParasha, Parsha, Sedra, Chumash, Hashkafa, Jewish outlookTorah & Our Imperfect Liveshttps://learntorah.com/content/31963d49-62dd-46c8-b195-5b8f23e2a9b4.mp3Many years ago, a father brought his son before his bar-mitzvah to meet a certain Hassidic Rebbe. The Rebbe, to the boy’s astonishment, turned to him and asked if he was a sports fan. “Sure,” the boy replied. “I follow baseball.” “What team do you root for?” the Rebbe asked. “The Brooklyn Dodgers.” The Rebbe then asked the boy if he ever attended a Dodgers game. “Of course,” the boy said. “Actually, my father took me to a game just a few days ago.” The Rebbe asked what happened in the game. “It was a terrible game,” the boy said. “By the seventh inning, the Dodgers were losing 10-0, so we just left. There was no reason to stay.” “I see,” the Rebbe said. “But what about the Dodgers players? Did they also leave?” The boy giggled. “Of course not. They need to stay and play the whole game. I’m just a fan, so I can leave whenever I want.” The Rebbe smiled. “You’re becoming a bar-mitzvah, which is very exciting,” the Rebbe explained. “Once you become a bar-mitzvah, you’re a member of the team. And you know what that means? It means that you can’t leave during a ‘bad game.’ “Every baseball player knows that not every game is going to be good. It’s not always going to go well. But he has to show up and play his hardest even when his team is losing 10-0 in the seventh inning. And the same is true about being a member of Am Yisrael ’s ‘team.’ We have to stick with it even it’s hard. We can’t just leave and give up when things get difficult or complicated.” Parashat Mishpatim continues the description of the events of Matan Torah , which began in last week’s parashah , Parashat Yitro. Surprisingly, the Torah interrupts the story of Matan Torah with a series of detailed and intricate laws, dealing mainly with situations of civil disputes. We find in this parashah laws regarding theft, damages, accidental murder, fights that break out between people, people who physically assault their parents, items that one borrowed or was asked to watch and which were lost, and helping one’s enemy who is struggling with his cargo. Why does this series of laws interrupt the exciting, dramatic narrative of Matan Torah ? The Rabbis teach that as Beneh Yisrael stood at Mount Sinai to receive the Torah, they were in a state of perfection. They had been fully cleansed of all spiritual impurities. Even physically, they were cured of all illnesses, and healed of all injuries. They were also completely unified, with no fighting or tension between the people. Hashem wanted to teach them that the Torah they were now receiving is binding not only in a state of perfection, but also in a state of imperfection. The Torah governs our lives even when our lives get very complicated and very difficult. It guides us even in unfortunate situations of theft, even when people are in a fight, when property gets damaged, when children rise up against their parents, when things go terribly wrong. I don’t know anyone who isn’t fighting a battle of some kind. Some deal with a medical issue. Some struggle with a child or several children. Some have difficulties in their marriage. Some can’t pay their bills. Some are in a fight with family members, neighbors, business associates, or others. And some are dealing with several of these kinds of problems simultaneously. It is for this reason that the story of Matan Torah is interrupted by the mishpatim , the section of civil laws. The complications of life are an integral part of Torah life. The Torah was not given only for a perfect reality. It was given to empower us to overcome even very imperfect realities, to grow and achieve even when we struggle and face difficult challenges. We must “play” every “inning” and every “game,” even the “games” that aren’t going well. We must never break down or despair when we face challenges. We must firmly believe that Hashem has sent us these challenges for us to overcome, and that He has given us the strength to overcome them. We are privileged to “play” on the greatest “team” in the world, and this requires us to keep going even on bad days. Let us respond to all our struggles with faith and conviction, realizing that Hashem has given us what it takes to meet every challenge that He sends our way.Thu, 08 Feb 2024 08:00:00 -0500Rabbi Joey HaberRabbi Joey HaberNoAn insight a week from Rabbi Joey Haber - Brought to you by itorah.com An insight a week from Rabbi Joey Haber - Brought to you by itorah.comParasha, Parsha, Sedra, Chumash, Hashkafa, Jewish outlookLiving Lives of Kedushahhttps://learntorah.com/content/df50fae3-18eb-4cf1-a335-f55bd01597da.mp3ממלכת כוהנים וגוי קדוש Parashat Yitro tells the story of מעמד הר סיני – Hashem’s revelation to Beneh Yisrael , when He presented them the Torah. Prior to this event, Hashem delivered a message to the people through Moshe Rabbenu, explaining to them the purpose of מעמד הר סיני , and, in essence, their mission as a nation. He declared that if they observe the commands of the Torah, then והייתם לי סגולה מכל העמים – “You shall be a treasure for Me, from among all the other nations” (Shemot 19:5). He then added: ואתם תהיו לי ממלכת כוהנים וגוי קדוש – “And you shall be for Me a kingdom of kohanim , and a sacred nation” (19:6). We need to understand the precise meaning of these three pronouncements – that we will be a סגולה , a ממלכת כוהנים , and a גוי קדוש . The Ketav Sofer explains that the first is a promise, and the next two are our mission. Hashem promises us that once we accept the Torah, if we make a sincere commitment to follow its laws, then forever more, we are a סגולה , His “treasure.” Even if we at times fail to comply, we are nevertheless His beloved nation. No matter how far we fall, we are guaranteed to be His סגולה , and thus capable of performing teshuvah and coming close to Him again. The next pasuk informs us of our two obligations as His nation. The first is to be a ממלכת כוהנים – to live elevated lives, lives of prayer, Torah study, Shabbat observance, and so on, dressing and conducting ourselves in a “regal” manner. The second obligation is to be a גוי קדוש – a “sacred nation.” The term קדושה is commonly associated with פרישות – “separation,” withdrawing from excessive indulgence, and avoiding inappropriate behaviors. Being a גוי קדוש means having the discipline to refrain from improper conduct, and the courage to act differently than people from other nations. I would posit that in our time, living as a ממלכת כוהנים is easier than it ever was, whereas living as a גוי קדוש is more difficult than it ever was. It is easier than ever to learn Torah, to become close to Rabbis, to observe Shabbat, to dress religiously, to pray in shul, to watch videos about emunah , and to generally “be religious.” But it is more difficult than ever to be קדוש , to be “separate,” to refrain from inappropriate behavior, to have the discipline and self-restraint to avoid doing things that we aren’t supposed to do. The Gemara in Masechet Nedarim (81a) makes a very famous – and startling – comment about the destruction of the Bet Ha’mikdash . It states that the reason why Hashem brought the hurban (destruction) is because the people did not recite the berachah before learning Torah. They made time to learn Torah – but they did not recite the berachah before learning, and for this reason, Yerushalayim was destroyed. Many Rabbis addressed the question of how this could be. Why would this be the reason for the destruction and the exile? Maybe we can offer an answer by looking at the text of the berachah recited before learning Torah. In this berachah we thank Hashem אשר בחר בנו מכל העמים ונתן לנו את תורתו – “who chose us from among all the nations, and gave us the Torah.” This berachah speaks about our being different, our having been selected from among all the other nations. Learning Torah is, of course, wonderful, and important. But it isn’t enough just to learn. Learning is part of the obligation of ממלכת כוהנים , but we cannot neglect the requirement to be a גוי קדוש , which means remembering that בחר בנו מכל העמים – that we must be different. We cannot learn the Torah which Hashem chose us to receive, study and observe, while still doing the same things that the nations around us do. We cannot learn Torah and talk the way other people talk, eat the way other people eat, watch what other people watch, and waste our time the way other people waste theirs. In order to live religious lives, we need to separate ourselves. We cannot continue doing what the people around us do. Living a Torah life, and growing in religion, is sometimes difficult. It requires making difficult decisions, and pulling away from things that we want. But I guarantee you that it is so worth it. There is no greater feeling than living as a ממלכת כוהנים וגוי קדוש , living a life of holiness, knowing that we are connected to Hashem. Let us strive to live a complete Torah life, fully committed to all its laws, values and guidelines, and we will then experience the unparalleled joy and satisfaction of kedushah and spiritual greatness.Sun, 28 Jan 2024 08:00:00 -0500Rabbi Joey HaberRabbi Joey HaberNoAn insight a week from Rabbi Joey Haber - Brought to you by itorah.com An insight a week from Rabbi Joey Haber - Brought to you by itorah.comParasha, Parsha, Sedra, Chumash, Hashkafa, Jewish outlookYosef's Bonehttps://learntorah.com/content/00969f9c-3816-4ffc-8c28-a3fa50b123c0.mp3In the beginning of Parashat Beshalah, the Torah informs us that as Beneh Yisrael left Egypt, Moshe ensured to bring with him the bones of Yosef, who had died many years earlier: ויקח משה את עצמות יוסף עמו (13:19). Moshe did this in fulfillment of Yosef’s command to his brothers before he died, that his remains should be brought out of Egypt and be buried in the Land of Israel. Why is it important for us to know? Why, amid all the drama of Yetziat Mitzrayim , did the Torah find it necessary to inform us that Yosef’s remains accompanied them as they went out into the desert? We can answer this question by taking a quick look at Yosef’s extraordinary life. When he was young, he enjoyed a wonderful life, as his father’s most beloved child, and receiving special gifts. But, on the other hand, his brothers despised him. His dreams of leadership could not be realized. It was only many years later, after being thrown into a pit, sold as a slave, and then imprisoned on false charges, that Yosef emerged as a leader. As long as his life was easy, he could not achieve greatness. It was by facing and overcoming adversity that Yosef actualized his full potential and fulfilled his mission. The opening pasuk of Parashat Beshalah tells us that Hashem specifically chose NOT to lead Beneh Yisrael along the direct route to Eretz Yisrael , and instead brought them through the desert. This was going to be a long, difficult, complicated process. But this was how they would become a great nation and fulfill the mission for which they were brought out of Egypt. This might be why this opening pasuk begins, ויהי בשלח פרעה את העם – referring to Beneh Yisrael as העם , “the nation,” and not as בני ישראל . It is only at the end of the next pasuk , after the Torah tells that Hashem decided to bring the people through the desert, that they are referred to by name – וחמושים עלו בני ישראל מארץ מצרים . Just leaving Egypt did not turn the people into בני ישראל , into a special nation with a special connection to Hashem. This happened only over the course of their difficult journey through the desert. It is by overcoming challenges that we attain greatness. This is the significance of Yosef’s bones accompanying Beneh Yisrael through the desert. They were reminded of Yosef’s story; they were shown that greatness is attained by enduring the “desert,” by facing challenging circumstances and overcoming them. The Mishnah in Pirkeh Avot (6:4) teaches: כך היא דרכה של תורה: פת במלח תאכל ומים במשורה תשתה ועל הארץ תישן וחיי צער תחיה ובתורה אתה עמל. This is the path of Torah: You eat bread with salt, you drink water in small quantities, you sleep on the floor, and you live uncomfortable lives – and you labor in Torah. This should not be understood to mean that living a Torah life requires suffering poverty. It does mean, however, that challenges and discomfort are part of the process of growth. If we always have everything we want, if life is always easy, simple and straightforward, then we are not going to grow and achieve greatness. Let us, then, embrace life’s challenges, rather than resent them. When we find ourselves in a “desert,” enduring some difficult circumstance, let us understand that this is an opportunity for us to grow, to realize our full potential, and become the great people that we are expected to become.Thu, 25 Jan 2024 08:00:00 -0500Rabbi Joey HaberRabbi Joey HaberNoAn insight a week from Rabbi Joey Haber - Brought to you by itorah.com An insight a week from Rabbi Joey Haber - Brought to you by itorah.comParasha, Parsha, Sedra, Chumash, Hashkafa, Jewish outlookElevating the Mundanehttps://learntorah.com/content/0c96dbe5-05ad-47bd-8a88-8fc6da7bc6e6.mp3Immediately after Beneh Yisrael left Egypt, Hashem presented a number of commands that are intended to commemorate and memorialize this miraculous event. One of these mitzvot is pidyon ha’ben – the “redemption” of the firstborn. Hashem declared that on the night of Yetziat Mitzrayim , when He brought a plague that killed the firstborns of Egypt, but spared the firstborn of Beneh Yisrael , all bechorim (male firstborns) of Beneh Yisrael became holy. Forever more, every male firstborn in the Jewish Nation has a special status of kedushah (holiness), because the bechorim were miraculously saved from the plague in Egypt. In order for the boy to be able to live a normal life, he must be “redeemed.” This is done by the father giving a sum of money to a kohen , a mitzvah that applies even today. Interestingly, it is customary to make a festive celebration at the time of a pidyon ha’ben . The father does not just give money to a kohen – but he invites friends and family for a large meal, similar to the celebration of a berit milah . We might ask, why is this something celebrate? This infant was just “downgraded” from being consecrated for the service of Hashem, to the status of an ordinary person, who can live in an ordinary way. Why is this a cause for celebration? Shouldn’t this be a somber moment, as the child’s level of kedushah is lowered? One of the commentators explains that Judaism does not celebrate perfect, pristine holiness as an ideal. Some other religions believe that in order to live a spiritual life, one must disconnect entirely from physical life. We, however, believe in striving for kedushah from within our physical reality. This concept is expressed in the korbanot that were brought in the Bet Ha’mikdash . Non-Jews were allowed to offer sacrifices in the Bet Ha’mikdash – but only the korban olah , the sacrifice that was burned entirely on the mizbe’ah (altar). This is because the non-Jewish conception of kedushah is withdrawing from physical life. We, however, offer several different kinds of korbanot , including sacrifices that were eaten, some only by the kohanim , and some also by the person who brought the sacrifice. Because for us, eating is not contradictory to holiness. The Torah teaches us not to abstain from worldly enjoyment, but to uplift it, to elevate the mundane parts of life. This finds expression also in the observance of Shabbat. The Gemara (Betzah 16a) teaches that on Shabbat, we receive a נשמה יתירה – an “extra soul.” (This is why we smell besamim when Shabbat ends – to ease the distress of losing this “extra soul.”) Rashi explains, surprisingly enough, that this “extra soul” gives us an especially hearty appetite on Shabbat. We enjoy eating more on Shabbat because of our heightened level of kedushah . The Torah sees no contradiction whatsoever between spirituality and physical enjoyment. Kedushah means not that we abstain from physical enjoyment, but rather that we elevate it, by enjoying the world in a dignified, sanctified way. This is why we celebrate a pidyon ha’ben . Now that the child is “lowered” from his lofty status of kedushah , he is able to do the work that we Jews are supposed to do – living a physical life in a spiritual way, elevating the mundane aspects of our lives. This means that we cannot separate between our religious and mundane lives. Spirituality does not end when we leave shul, or when we go to work, or when we go on vacation. To the contrary, spirituality means that we go about our mundane lives in a holy way. It means ensuring to make time for tefilah and for Torah learning even when we’re away with the family on vacation, ensuring to recite all the berachot when we eat, and ensuring to conduct our business affairs honestly and respectably, as the Torah demands. Religion is not reserved for the shul, or for the yeshiva. It must inform every aspect of our lives, and elevate and enhance everything that we do throughout the day, each day of our lives.Thu, 18 Jan 2024 08:00:00 -0500Rabbi Joey HaberRabbi Joey HaberNoAn insight a week from Rabbi Joey Haber - Brought to you by itorah.com An insight a week from Rabbi Joey Haber - Brought to you by itorah.comParasha, Parsha, Sedra, Chumash, Hashkafa, Jewish outlookA Parents Jobhttps://learntorah.com/content/4488a553-da68-4be3-8a3e-095b7bc39a1d.mp3Parashat Vaera begins in the middle of a difficult exchange between Hashem and Moshe Rabbenu. To briefly review, Hashem had sent Moshe to come before Pharaoh and demand that he release Beneh Yisrael . Moshe did as he was told, and Pharaoh not only refused, but increased the people’s workload, significantly intensifying their suffering. Moshe then turned to Hashem and asked, “Why have You done evil to Your people? Why did you send me?” Hashem reassured Moshe that He would force Pharaoh to let Beneh Yisrael go. In the beginning of Parashat Vaera, Hashem continues His response to Moshe, telling him, “I am Hashem; and I appeared to Avraham, Yitzhak and Yaakov with [the Name] ‘Kel Sha-ddai’.” The commentators explain this to mean that Hashem made promises to the Avot (patriarchs), but did not show them the fulfillment of these promises. He promised to produce from them a large nation that would inhabit the Land of Israel, but they never lived to see these promises realized. Nevertheless, they did not complain or protest, as Moshe did when G-d’s promise to free Beneh Yisrael was not immediately fulfilled. It goes without saying that Moshe had perfect faith in Hashem. At no point did he doubt that Hashem would fulfill His promise to free Beneh Yisrael . Rather, as Seforno (5:22) explains, Moshe was asking why he was part of this. “Why did you send me?” He of course realized that Hashem had his reasons for making Beneh Yisrael ’s conditions worse. But he felt like a failure. He did what Hashem sent him to do, and he failed. His efforts had the precise opposite effect of what he was supposed to achieve. This is what troubled him – that his work and efforts were futile. Hashem responded by pointing to the example of Avraham, Yitzhak and Yaakov. They never felt like failures, even though they never saw the realization of their mission. Each time they heard Hashem’s promise of a great nation, they encountered hardships. Avraham had no children, and had to leave the land because of a famine. Yitzhak had to struggle with the Pelishtim who chased him away and then stole his wells. Yaakov received Hashem’s promise, and then had to deal with Lavan and Esav. Later, his daughter was abducted, and his sons sold their brother as a slave. But the Avot did not feel like failures. They recognized their greatness and importance, and the great value of their efforts, and trusted that Hashem will eventually fulfill His promises. As mentioned, Parashat Vaera begins with Hashem telling Moshe, “I appeared to Avraham, Yitzchak and Yaakov…” Rashi makes a very unusual remark on this verse. Commenting on the word “Vaera” (“I appeared”), Rashi writes, “El Ha’avot” – “to the patriarchs.” For some reason, Rashi found it necessary to clarify that Avraham, Yitzhak and Yaakov were the “Avot,” our nation’s founding fathers. Aren’t we already well aware of this? Do we not already know who Avraham, Yitzhak and Yaakov were? The answer might be that Rashi here is teaching us what a parent’s role is, what makes someone into an “Av,” a father or mother. A parent’s primary job is to model for his or her children this quality mentioned here in this pasuk – the quality of resilience in times of failure and disappointment. Avraham, Yitzhak and Yaakov are our “fathers” because they showed us how to remain confident, strong and determined even when things do not work out, even when the chips are down, even when our efforts do not succeed. They continued believing in Hashem, and – no less importantly – believing in themselves ,even in times of crisis and hardship. At no point did they see themselves as failures, as hopeless, or as unimportant, even when their efforts did not yield the results they wanted. And this is what makes them our “fathers.” Our generation suffers from a lack of self-confidence and self-esteem. Youngsters today see other people’s success and achievements and feel unimportant and insignificant, like failures. The most critical job that parents have, especially in our generation, is to instill within their children a keen sense of their importance and worth, to assure them of their potential for greatness, to make them realize how much they can accomplish, and how much they matter. Children should never see themselves as failures, regardless of their grades, social standing, or any other factor. They need to know that they have the potential for greatness, that they have so much to contribute to the world, even if they have met with disappointment and failure. If we can do this, then we are doing our job as parents, following the example of our saintly Avot.Thu, 11 Jan 2024 08:00:00 -0500Rabbi Joey HaberRabbi Joey HaberNoAn insight a week from Rabbi Joey Haber - Brought to you by itorah.com An insight a week from Rabbi Joey Haber - Brought to you by itorah.comParasha, Parsha, Sedra, Chumash, Hashkafa, Jewish outlookCreating a “Desert” in Our Homeshttps://learntorah.com/content/5daccff2-fccb-4fd2-8318-62fac99873ee.mp3Parashat Shemot tells of the first time Hashem spoke to Moshe Rabbenu. He appeared to Moshe in the סנה , the burning bush, appointing him Beneh Yisrael ’s prophet and leader, who would bring them out of Egypt. The Torah writes that Moshe saw the burning bush and received this prophecy when he was working as a shepherd for his father-in-law, Yitro, and, specifically, when he brought the sheep out into the desert: וינהג את הצאן אחר המדבר (3:1). The Midrash Tanhuma comments that this pasuk has a deep symbolic meaning. The Torah is telling us that Moshe was drawn to the מדבר , to the desert, because he foresaw great things happening in the desert. It was in the desert that Beneh Yisrael received the Torah, and were given mitzvot to observe. It was in the desert that Beneh Yisrael constructed the Mishkan , where the Shechinah (divine presence) rested. It was in the desert that Beneh Yisrael received miraculous sustenance, with manna falling from the heavens each morning, and a well of water that traveled with them. Moshe was drawn to the desert because he was drawn to greatness, and he sensed that greatness would be attained specifically there in the desert. The Malbim, one of the famous later commentators, develops this symbolism further. He explains that a desert, a region that is desolate and uninhabitable, represents the absence of physicality. It is a place where one’s physical needs can barely be provided, where one can, at best, survive in the most minimal way. The מדבר thus symbolizes complete spirituality, divesting oneself of all physical activities. The Malbim explains that Moshe sought kedushah . He wanted to live a life of pristine holiness, without any physical qualities whatsoever. This is the meaning of וינהג את הצאן אחר המדבר . He wanted to go out into the desert, to leave the normal, physical world, and live an entirely spiritual existence. When Moshe first saw the burning bush, and started going towards it, Hashem commanded, אל תקרב הלום – “Do not come close” (3:5). The Malbim explains that Hashem was telling him that he cannot divest himself completely of all physicality. After all, all human beings – even Moshe Rabbenu – have a body, and so we all have physical needs to tend to. We are urged to go out into the מדבר , to leave our physical existence, while recognizing that we are not able to remove our physicality altogether. The Malbim here teaches us that in order to live lives of kedushah , we need to go into the “desert,” meaning, we need to eliminate certain things from our lives. In contemporary terms, this means we need to “leave” our society’s culture. Of course, living here in the Diaspora, among non-Jews, in a non-Jewish environment, we cannot isolate ourselves completely. Nevertheless, it is imperative that we create some sort of “desert” in our homes, that we carefully discern what we allow inside. To some extent, we need to withdraw from society and create for ourselves a “desert,” a place that is free of outside influences. Imagine if we traveled to a poverty-stricken society in a Third World country, where people live without electricity, without running water, and without the sanitary conditions that we are all accustomed to. We see them living on dirt floors, with insects and flies in their bowls and plates, and sleeping on run-down beds. Now imagine we invite the people to come live in our society, with all the comforts and with the standards of hygiene and cleanliness that we enjoy. We describe to them how we live, and we ask if they would want to live with us, rather than living in the dirt and with the insects and flies. We would find it very strange if they refuse, if they would say, “No thank you, this is the way we live, and we’re happy with it.” Sadly, however, this is how many people feel when it comes to spiritual “dirt.” We expose ourselves and our children to material that none of us should be exposed to, figuring that this is just the way it is, this is how we live in our society. But the truth is that we do not have to live this way. We do not – and should not – have to live with filth. Of course, I’m not saying that we should actually go into a “desert,” that we should abandon all of modern life. We do, however, need to set limits, and use discretion. If we are going to live meaningful religious lives, we are going to have to withdraw from much of what the surrounding society consumes and indulges in. We cannot allow into our homes and into our lives everything that the surrounding society deems acceptable. Moshe Rabbenu, the greatest prophet who ever lived, showed us that we are chosen to pursue greatness, and in order to attain greatness, we need to go out into the “desert,” setting limits on what we consume and what we bring into our world.Thu, 04 Jan 2024 08:00:00 -0500Rabbi Joey HaberRabbi Joey HaberNoAn insight a week from Rabbi Joey Haber - Brought to you by itorah.com An insight a week from Rabbi Joey Haber - Brought to you by itorah.comParasha, Parsha, Sedra, Chumash, Hashkafa, Jewish outlookResisting Victimhoodhttps://learntorah.com/content/9e407d2d-7577-4a09-8245-5815a7536c25.mp3We read in Parashat Vayehi of the special blessings that Yaakov Avinu gave to Yosef’s two sons, Efrayim and Menashe. After Yaakov took ill, Yosef brought his sons to Yaakov so that he could bless them. Yaakov embraced them and then proclaimed the following famous blessing: המלאך הגואל אותי מכל רע יברך את הנערים, ויקרא בהם שמי ושם אבותי אברהם ויצחק, וידגו לרוב בקרב הארץ. The angel who has redeemed me from all evil shall bless the youths, and my name – and the names of my fathers, Avraham and Yitzchak – shall be called upon them, and they shall be fruitful like fish in the midst of the land. (48:16) Why did Yaakov draw a comparison here specifically to fish? To introduce the answer, we need to examine the difference between two terms: victim, and victimhood. Throughout our history, the Jewish People have been victims. We have been subject to all kinds of mistreatment and persecution. And yet, never did we resort to victimhood. We never embraced victimhood as our identity. We always remained strong and resolute, and maintained our dignity and our belief in our potential for greatness and in the glorious future that awaits us. Often, when a child gets upset or offended at the table, he will go to the couch and sulk. Some children will remain that way for a long time, embracing their victimhood, wallowing in self-pity, feeling sorry for themselves. Other kids, however, will get up after a few minutes and return to the table. These kids choose not to identify themselves as victims, and to instead pick themselves up and move on. This is, in a sense, who the Jewish People are. We get hurt, we get knocked down, but we don’t wallow in self-pity. We are victims, but we do not fall into victimhood, into a sense of helplessness and powerlessness. We “get off the couch.” We feel confident in ourselves and in our capacity for greatness, no matter what happens to us. Nobody embodied this concept better than Yosef and his children. Yosef was violently betrayed by his brothers, then falsely accused of a heinous crime, and imprisoned for many years – but was not broken. His sons were born and raised in a foreign country, far away from their grandfather and his family, but they still emerged as among the founders of the twelve tribes of Israel. The berachah that Yaakov was giving them was that this should always continue. He blessed them ויקרא בהם שמי, ושם אבותי אברהם ויצחק – that they should follow the legacy of Avraham, Yitzchak and Yaakov, all of whom were tested and persevered. The Keli Yakar explains the word ויקרא in this pasuk to mean יקר – precious and glorious. Avraham, Yitzchak and Yaakov recognized their inner greatness and glory even in difficult times. This is the blessing that Yaakov conferred upon Yosef’s children – that ויקרא , they should always realize their “preciousness,” no matter what they are going through. He then added וידגו לרוב – that they should resemble fish, that propagate underwater, where nobody sees them, where we would not imagine that life could exist and flourish. וידגו לרוב refers to the ability to succeed and achieve even “underwater,” even in circumstances where this does not seem possible. And this is one of the Jewish Nation’s greatest qualities. We have excelled and accomplished even in trying times. Rather than fall into victimhood and despair, and regard ourselves as helpless, we push forward, we build, we grow, and we achieve. Yaakov told Yosef, בך יברך ישראל לאמר: ישימך אלוקים כאפרים וכמנשה – for all time, parents will bless their sons that they should be like Efrayim and Menashe. The greatest blessing that a parent can wish upon his child is the blessing of perseverance, of resisting victimhood, of remaining confident and ambitious even in hard times. We are all “victims” of something, at one point or another. All of us have had to face adversity. We have all found ourselves “underwater,” in places where it seems inevitable that we will “drown,” and where there appears to be no chance of succeeding. But we have received from our righteous ancestors the power to resist victimhood even when we are victims; the power of וידגו לרוב , to prosper and flourish even under trying circumstances. Let us always be emboldened and encouraged by this precious legacy that we carry, and always remember that even when we are victims, we have the ability to “get off the couch,” hold our heads high, and achieve greatness.Thu, 28 Dec 2023 08:00:00 -0500Rabbi Joey HaberRabbi Joey HaberNoAn insight a week from Rabbi Joey Haber - Brought to you by itorah.com An insight a week from Rabbi Joey Haber - Brought to you by itorah.comParasha, Parsha, Sedra, Chumash, Hashkafa, Jewish outlookConnecting Our Minds to Our Heartshttps://learntorah.com/content/dacd5bdc-62bd-4161-91f1-8e294bee7232.mp3Parashat Vayigash tells the dramatic story of Yosef’s revealing his identity to his brothers. In the years after they sold him a slave, Yosef miraculously rose to the position of vizier in Egypt. When the brothers came many years later to purchase grain from Egypt, they would never have imagined that the Egyptian ruler before whom they stood was their brother. Now, Yosef finally told his brothers who he was. After Yosef revealed his identity, the Torah tells, ויפל על צוארי בנימן אחיו ויבך, ובנימן בכה על צואריו – Yosef fell on Binyamin’s neck and cried, and Binyamin cried on Yosef’s neck (45:14). This pasuk seems rather straightforward. Yosef and Binyamin were the only two sons of Rachel, and they thus felt a special bond with one another. This was an exceedingly emotional moment for them, as they were finally reunited, and so naturally, they embraced and wept. Rashi, however, teaches us that they cried for a different reason. Yosef foresaw that the Bet Ha’mikdash , which would, centuries later, be built in the territory of the tribe of Binyamin, would twice be destroyed. And Binyamin foresaw that the Mishkan in the town of Shilo, which is the region of the tribe of Efrayim, one of Yosef’s sons, would be destroyed. This is why they cried. Yosef cried for Binyamin’s “neck” – the Bet Ha’mikdash – and Binyamin cried for Yosef’s “neck” – the Mishkan in Shilo. Rashi’s comments require explanation. Why would Yosef and Binyamin be crying over these future tragedies right now, at this dramatic, emotional moment? And why are the Mishkan and Bet Ha’mikdash symbolized by the neck? Yosef and Binyamin understood that although the brothers have now achieved reconciliation, and the hatred and jealousy of the past had been forgotten, this was not going to be the end of the story, the end of the tragic שנאת חינם (baseless hatred) among our people. Centuries later, Hashem would destroy the Mishkan and the Bet Ha’mikdash because the unfortunate story of Yosef and his brothers would be repeated. Instead of celebrating and rejoicing in other people’s success, we would, sadly, feel jealous and resentful of one another, just as Yosef’s brothers envied and resented him. These feelings of hostility would cause a great deal of pain and devastation, just as it did to Yosef’s family. This is why they cried. The neck marks the point of connection between the head and the heart. It symbolizes the need for the mind to step in and control our emotions. The key to curing the ill of שנאת חינם is the “neck” – exercising reason when we feel angry, embittered or resentful. The way we repair the destruction wrought by שנאת חינם is through the “neck,” by never allowing the heart to be isolated from the mind. We are all human beings, and so we are going to at times, or even often, feel jealous. When we see or hear of somebody going on a luxury vacation that we cannot afford, or buy a car or summer home that we cannot afford, it is only natural to feel jealous. When somebody with older singles hears about his friend’s twenty-year-old daughter getting engaged, it is natural to feel jealous. Other people’s success in areas in which we struggle will make us feel envious and perhaps resentful. We must realize that there is nothing wrong with feeling this way. There is nothing wrong with being human! But our obligation at such times is to put the “neck” into action – to use our minds to control our reactions and the way we handle the situation. And when we think about it rationally, we realize that another person’s success does not really affect us in any way. There is no logical reason why other people’s good fortune should make us feel unhappy or dissatisfied with our lives. And, using our minds, we recognize that Hashem runs the world and gives us all precisely what we need, precisely when we need it. Rationally, there is no reason for jealousy or resentment. The heart is going to feel this way – but when it does, we need to activate the mind to counteract the negative feelings. The ability to do this is truly life-altering. Life becomes so much happier and more enjoyable when we are able to celebrate other people’s successes, when we are able to genuinely rejoice in the good fortune of our peers. If we allow our feelings of envy to fester, then we will never be happy. There will always be people with blessings that we do not have, and if we let this bother us, we will be miserable all the time. One of the greatest gifts we can give ourselves is the ability to be happy for other people’s success, to treat their good fortune as our good fortune. This is how we cure the ill of שנאת חינם , and to live happily and joyously at all times.Thu, 21 Dec 2023 08:00:00 -0500Rabbi Joey HaberRabbi Joey HaberNoAn insight a week from Rabbi Joey Haber - Brought to you by itorah.com An insight a week from Rabbi Joey Haber - Brought to you by itorah.comParasha, Parsha, Sedra, Chumash, Hashkafa, Jewish outlookFilling Our Minds With Torahhttps://learntorah.com/content/dcc06c32-4d9b-4776-85a6-3c5a0837a3dd.mp3Parashat Miketz continues the story of Yosef, who was sold as a slave by his brothers, and brought down to Egypt. He miraculously became the vizier of Egypt, second only to Pharaoh himself. When the surrounding countries faced a harsh famine, many people – including Yosef’s brothers – came to Egypt to buy grain. At one point in the story, Yosef ordered that a special feast be prepared for him and his brothers. He instructed his servants, וטבוח טבח והכן – that they should slaughter an animal to prepare meat for the feast (43:16). Several commentaries pointed out that these words contain an allusion to Hanukah, as the letter ח at the end of the word טבח , together with the letters of the next word, והכן , spell חנוכה . Indeed, Parashat Miketz is read during Hanukah, or, in some years (such as this year), immediately after Hanukah. What connection is there between the story of Yosef and the story of Hanukah? The answer might be found in Rashi’s comments later, in Parashat Shemot (1:5). The Torah there says, ויוסף היה במצרים (“And Yosef was in Egypt”), and Rashi explains this to mean: להודיעך צדקתו של יוסף - הוא יוסף הרועה את צאן אביו, הוא יוסף שהיה במצרים ונעשה מלך ועומד בצדקו . This teaches you Yosef’s piety. He was Yosef who shepherded his father’s sheep, and he was Yosef who was in Egypt and became a king – and retained his piety. One of Yosef’s outstanding qualities is his ability to maintain his values and his faith even while living alone in a foreign culture. All around him, people had different beliefs than him, and led a drastically different lifestyle than him. Nevertheless, he remained steadfastly committed to the beliefs, traditions and values he received in his father’s home. This is, in essence, the story of Hanukah. The Greeks tried to impose their thinking and their beliefs upon the Jews, but the Hashmonaim and their supporters refused. They were insistent on preserving their faith and their way of life no matter what kind of pressure was applied. Yosef’s story is, in a sense, the Hashmonaim ’s story – the story of retaining Torah commitment even in the face of pressure. This explains also another curious connection between Hanukah and the story of Yosef, which is indicated by the Gemara. The Gemara discusses the halachot of Hanukah in a small section consisting of several pages, in the second chapter of Masechet Shabbat. Surprisingly, in the middle of this discussion (22a), the Gemara makes a seemingly unrelated comment about the story of Yosef. It brings the Torah’s description of the pit into which Yosef’s brothers threw him: והבור רק אין בו מים – “and the pit was empty; there was no water in it” (Bereshit 37:24). The Gemara explains that מים אין בו, נחשים וערבים יש בו – the pit had no water, but it had snakes and scorpions. Yosef miraculously survived the pit, despite the fact that it contained deadly creatures. I believe there is a deeper message being taught here, one which is very relevant to the story of Hanukah. Water is often used as a metaphor for Torah. Just as water is essential for sustaining physical life, Torah learning is essential for sustaining spiritual life. The Gemara is telling us that if מים אין בו , if we do not fill our minds with Torah, then נחשים ועקרבים יש בו – our minds will become filled with dangerous ideas. There is no vacuum. A person’s mind will be occupied by something. And if it isn’t filled with Torah, then it will be filled with spiritually harmful material. As we recite in the על הניסים prayer added on Hanukah, the Greeks’ plan was להשכיחם תורתך – to make the Jews forget the Torah. They understood that once the Jews stopped learning Torah, the “pit” will be filled with “snakes and scorpions,” the Jews will fill the void with Greek beliefs and culture. This is why the Gemara teaches us about Yosef and the pit in the context of its discussion of Hanukah – because the symbolism of the pit is extremely relevant to the Hanukah story. Today, society is trying to force its values and ideas into our minds. It wants us to accept beliefs and ideologies that are so foreign to Torah. The way we resist these efforts is to fill our minds with מים , with Torah knowledge. Never before has it been more important to fill our minds with Torah – and, fortunately, never before has it been easier to do so. Technology poses many difficult challenges, but it also has given us so many wonderful opportunities for Torah learning. In our time, there is simply no excuse for not spending time learning Torah. Classes are available in our community, and online, for people on all levels, and on every Torah topic. If we are going to follow the examples of Yosef and the Hashmonaim , and resist the cultural pressures that we face, then we must make an effort to fill our minds with as much Torah as possible. We need to put in the time and work to learn, to hear what the Torah tells us, to imbibe its sanctity, and this will give us the strength we need to protect ourselves against the foreign influences that abound.Thu, 14 Dec 2023 08:00:00 -0500Rabbi Joey HaberRabbi Joey HaberNoAn insight a week from Rabbi Joey Haber - Brought to you by itorah.com An insight a week from Rabbi Joey Haber - Brought to you by itorah.comParasha, Parsha, Sedra, Chumash, Hashkafa, Jewish outlookWearing Our Shoeshttps://learntorah.com/content/cf95429e-afba-4c4d-8d30-13db00e2881d.mp3Parashat Vayeshev tells the tragic story of mechirat Yosef – the brothers’ selling Yosef as a slave. They at first plotted to kill him, but eventually they decided to lift him from the pit into which they had thrown him, and sell him to merchants as a slave. These merchants then brought Yosef down to Egypt and sold him to a nobleman named Potifar. The Midrash teaches us something very peculiar about this transaction. It tells that Yosef’s brothers used the money they received in exchange for Yosef to buy themselves shoes. This is the meaning of the pasuk in the Book of Amos (2:6) that speaks of a righteous person being sold for shoes: על מכרם בכסף צדיק ואביון בעבור נעליים . The Targum Yonatan writes that the צדיק mentioned in this pasuk is Yosef, whom the brothers sold in exchange for shoes, as they used the money they received to purchase shoes. Why is it significant that the brothers bought shoes? Why do we need to be told this? What might the shoes symbolize? After Adam and Havah’s sin in Gan Eden , Hashem told Adam, ארורה האדמה בעבורך, בעצבון תאכלנה – “The ground is cursed because of you; you shall eat it in sorrow” (Bereshit 3:17). Hashem placed a curse upon the earth, whereby earning a living will entail עצבון , aggravation and hard work. I do not know a single person, rich or struggling, whose livelihood does not entail challenges. This was Hashem’s decree after Adam’s sin – that making a living is going to be difficult. This is the curse declared upon the ground – ארורה האדמה . Shoes have the effect of elevating a person from the ground. Symbolically, then, shoes allude to our ability to rise above the “curse,” the frustrations and hardships of life. Wearing shoes represents our refusal to get stuck in the “curse” that we’re struggling with, our determination to rise above it, to keep our heads held high, to see the blessing and opportunities in every situation, rather than wallow in paralyzing sorrow and despair. This is why a mourner removes his shoes, and why we all remove our shoes on Tisha B’Av, when we all mourn the destruction of the Bet Ha’mikdash . During mourning, we are to fully feel and experience the “curse,” the pain and angst of what has been lost. Conversely, kohanim did not wear shoes in the area of the Bet Ha’mikdash , because this territory is sacred ground, where there is no curse. For the same reason, we do not wear shoes on Yom Kippur, when we live a sacred existence, as though we return to Adam’s state before his sin, before the curse. Nobody embodies the quality of rising above life’s curses than Yosef. As a 17-year-old boy, he was betrayed by his own brothers, and brought to a foreign country as a slave. There he was tempted by his master’s wife, confronting the most difficult of all spiritual tests, and he prevailed. The Rabbis teach that Yosef’s triumph over the lure of immorality is what protected Am Yisrael throughout the 210 years they spent in Egypt, which was the most immoral society in the ancient world. Yosef’s strength and resolve set a precedent that kept our nation pure throughout the years of slavery in Egypt. Yosef rose above the “curse,” and transformed his personal challenges into a great achievement that ended up guaranteeing the nation’s spiritual survival. This is why shoes are associated with mechirat Yosef . The brothers thought they were destroying Yosef, but he did not let himself be destroyed. He succeeded in lifting himself up, and using his tragic situation into an opportunity to achieve greatness. This is an example for all of us to follow. We all face periods of עצבון , times of sorrow, pain, loss, frustration, and anguish. In the case of the passing of a loved one, Heaven forbid, halachah tells the mourner to remove his shoes, to focus on the void, on what has been lost, and on the pain. At other times, however, we are to “wear our shoes,” to rise above the “curse,” to not allow ourselves to get stuck in negativity. We, like Yosef, have the strength to grow from life’s challenges, to use our difficulties to lift us up and make us great.Thu, 07 Dec 2023 08:00:00 -0500Rabbi Joey HaberRabbi Joey HaberNoAn insight a week from Rabbi Joey Haber - Brought to you by itorah.com An insight a week from Rabbi Joey Haber - Brought to you by itorah.comParasha, Parsha, Sedra, Chumash, Hashkafa, Jewish outlookThe "Dust"https://learntorah.com/content/b4e41b81-cfd4-4598-b8a1-855ca28c82b7.mp3We read in Parashat Vayishlah that as Yaakov Avinu made his way back to Eretz Yisrael , a mysterious man attacked him, and wrestled with him throughout the night. Yaakov ultimately emerged victorious, although he sustained an injury to his hip, that made him limp. The Rabbis explained that this mysterious attacker was שרו של עשיו – the angel of Eisav, the Satan , the force of evil, the yetzer ha’ra that tries to lead us to sin. To understand the significance of this incident, we need to take note of the word used to describe the fight between Yaakov and this angel: ויאבק (32:25). The root of this word is אבק , which means “dust.” Rashi explains that this word is used because when two people wrestle with one another, they kick up dust into the air. The Gemara (Hulin 91a) teaches that the dust that Yaakov and the angel kicked up during their fight ascended all the way to the heavens. In other words, the fight between good and evil, the struggle that we wage against our yetzer ha’ra , is a fight about the dust. What does this mean? The Gemara elsewhere (Baba Batra 165a) teaches that virtually all people are guilty of אבק לשון הרע – literally, “the dust of lashon ha’ra .” Most committed Jews avoid outright lashon ha’ra . We don’t sit and indulge in gossip and spread embarrassing information about people. But almost everyone is guilty of “sort of” lashon ha’ra – of innuendos, of remarks which might not qualify as direct lashon ha’ra , but are clearly intended to make somebody else look not great. This is what אבק , “dust,” means – the subtle, small particles of “dust” that we put on an otherwise clean, beautiful Torah life. The yetzer ha’ra doesn’t approach us and try to get us to violate Shabbat or eat non-kosher food. The yetzer ha’ra doesn’t tempt us to go over to somebody we’re upset at and say, “You’re a terrible person,” or “I hate you.” We are all good people who are committed to Torah values. And we’re nice and ethical. We aren’t going to do something awful. But what the yetzer ha’ra does instead is get us to kick up “dirt.” It gets us to make a somewhat insensitive comment that hurts somebody, to say something subtly offensive, to do something that isn’t precisely proper according to halachah . This is the battle that we face. The pasuk in Mishleh (10:32) says, שפתי צדיק ידעון רצון – “The lips of the righteous person know how to earn favor.” Rashi explains that a tzadik , a righteous person, knows how to earn Hashem’s favor through his prayer, and also knows how to make people feel good with his words. Knowing how to say the right thing, how to speak sensitively, how to speak to people in a way which makes them comfortable and at ease around you, is very difficult. Somebody who does this all the time is a tzadik . This doesn’t mean that the rest of us are bad people. It just means that the rest of us kick up “dust” in our relationships. We’re good people, we’re nice, and we don’t want to hurt people, but sometimes we say the wrong thing, we create “dust.” This is the struggle that we face, and this is the struggle that we must try to win. Rabbi Paysach Krohn told the story of a man who was part of a daily Torah learning group that got together to learn every morning. This fellow was in charge of giving out coffee to all the participants. He made a point of knowing exactly how each and every member of the group liked his coffee – with milk, without milk, with or without sugar, with or without artificial sweetener, strong or not too strong, very hot or not too hot, etc. He ensured to give each person precisely the coffee that he wanted. But there was something very peculiar about the way he served the people their coffee – he always brought them half a cup. If they finished and wanted more, he would happily bring them more, but he always gave them no more than half a cup. One morning, he was not feeling well, so he sent his son to serve everybody their coffee. He prepared for his son a detailed list explaining how each member of the group liked their coffee. As the son was preparing the coffee in the shul, the father showed up. “Dad, I thought you weren’t feeling well,” his son asked. “Yes, but I needed to come because I forgot to tell you something very important – you need to make sure to give everyone only half a cup at a time!” The son didn’t understand. He asked why he couldn’t just give everybody a full cup. The father explained that there were two elderly members of the group whose hands shook somewhat. Unless their cup of coffee was only half full, the coffee would spill on their Gemara. And since they needed half a cup, he gave everybody half a cup, so they would not feel embarrassed. This is an example of a tzadik who understands how to avoid the “dust,” how to live a perfectly “clean” Torah life, without causing anyone any sort of discomfort or pain. Let us be strong and resolute in waging this battle, and keep all our relationships, both at home and outside the home, clean of any “dust,” always trying to make people feel comfortable and at ease around us.Thu, 30 Nov 2023 08:00:00 -0500Rabbi Joey HaberRabbi Joey HaberNoAn insight a week from Rabbi Joey Haber - Brought to you by itorah.com An insight a week from Rabbi Joey Haber - Brought to you by itorah.comParasha, Parsha, Sedra, Chumash, Hashkafa, Jewish outlookConnecting With Hashem In Times of Uncertaintyhttps://learntorah.com/content/8be0b4ef-f2fb-4ab4-b727-53df272dda54.mp3Parashat Vayetzeh begins with Yaakov Avinu fleeing from his home, as his brother, Esav, was trying to kill him. The Torah tells us: ויפגע במקום וילן שם כי בא השמש – “He came upon a place, and he slept there, because the sun set.” As he slept, Yaakov beheld the famous dream of a ladder extending to the heavens, with angels ascending and descending the ladder. When we read this pasuk, we get the impression that Yaakov happened to arrive at some random place, and it was getting late, so he went to sleep. Rashi, however, brings from earlier sources that there was so much more going on. First of all, this was not just a random place. ויפגע במקום means that Yaakov arrived at the holiest place on earth – the site where the Bet Ha’mikdash would be built centuries later. Secondly, the sun did not just set. Hashem made the sun set early, before it was supposed to, because He wanted Yaakov to sleep there, at this site, the site of the Bet Ha’mikdash. It was here where Yaakov was to behold his vision, and receive Hashem’s prophecy guaranteeing him protection along his journey, and promising that his descendants would receive the Land of Israel. We must ask, if there was so much going on, if Hashem made it dark early so that Yaakov would sleep at the most sacred place in the world, then why does the pasuk make it seem like this was all random? Why does the Torah give us the impression that Yaakov just slept where he happened to find himself when it got dark? The answer might be that the Torah is teaching us that we can connect Hashem under all circumstances, even during times of transition and during periods of uncertainty. Yaakov was now experiencing a time of instability. He was running for his life. He was older and still not married. He would have to live with his crooked uncle. His entire life was shaken up, and he did not know what the future held for him. With all this happening, he went to sleep along the road – and right there, in that spot, at that moment, he received prophecy. This shows us that we do not have to wait until we have our lives completely in order, with everything going exactly as planned, in order to build our relationship with Hashem. In fact, often, it is specifically during times of fear, uncertainty and instability that we are able to build a stronger connection. The Gemara teaches that Hashem created our world with the letter ה, and the next world with the letter י. This is indicated by the pasuk כי בי-ה ה' צור עולמים (Yeshayahu 26:4), which means that G-d created the “worlds” with the Name י-ה: one world with the letter י, and the other with the letter ה. These two letters together in gematria equal 15. This the number of steps that connected the two sections of the outdoor area of the Bet Ha’mikdash, a higher section and a lower section. And it was on these steps that the Leviyim would sing their praise to Hashem. The symbolism of these 15 steps is very powerful. They represent the point of connection between י and ה, between the upper worlds and the lower worlds. It is precisely on these steps, during the process of transition from one stage to another, where we sing praise to Hashem. When we face instability and uncertainty, when we are working to ascend, or, G-d forbid, when we feel we are descending, we have an opportunity to turn to Hashem and reinforce our relationship with Him. This is the message of the ladder in Yaakov’s dream. The ladder, like the steps in the Bet Ha’mikdash, symbolizes transition and movement. During periods of uncertainty, like Yaakov experienced, we can build our connection to Hashem in an especially meaningful way. ויפגע במקום. When we feel that our lives are just random, that we are just in some “place” without any direction, when we feel lost, lonely, anxious, or nervous about the future, we must remember that Hashem is right here with us. He put us במקום, in this precise spot where we find ourselves, for a purpose. And is ready to take us by the hand and lead us to the next stage, leading us along the direction we need to go.Thu, 23 Nov 2023 08:00:00 -0500Rabbi Joey HaberRabbi Joey HaberNoAn insight a week from Rabbi Joey Haber - Brought to you by itorah.com An insight a week from Rabbi Joey Haber - Brought to you by itorah.comParasha, Parsha, Sedra, Chumash, Hashkafa, Jewish outlookStop Praying – and Start Begginghttps://learntorah.com/content/2fb1f8d3-f57f-47d1-8733-7180941996cb.mp3The Torah in Parashat Toldot tells what we should probably see as the first instance of antisemitism. Yitzhak Avinu was forced by a drought to settle among the Pelishtim , and they disliked him and fought with him. A focal point of the fighting was the group of wells that Yitzhak dug. These wells had actually been dug years earlier by his father, Avraham. But after Avraham died, the Pelishtim filled the wells with earth, so they could not be used. Now, Yitzhak dug them anew. And the Pelishtim fought with him over these wells. Avraham brought a new idea into the world, the concept of ethical monotheism, the belief in Hashem, in morality, in our responsibility for other people, in kindness and compassion. The people decided to “stuff the wells,” to put an end to his teachings, because they did not want to have to bear this burden. Yitzhak, though, kept digging. He didn’t give up, even in the face of hostility. In our time, too, we face a frightening wave of antisemitism. We need to be strong and resolute, like Yitzhak Avinu, and continue to “dig the wells” of our ancestors, and proudly carry our heritage and traditions. But there’s also something else we need to be doing. The opening pesukim of this parashah tell that Yitzhak and Rivka were childless for twenty years before having children. During those years, the Torah writes, ויעתר יצחק לה' – Yitzhak prayed to Hashem, until he was finally answered and Rivka conceived. The commentators point out that the Torah uses an unusual word for prayer – ויעתר . We are familiar with other words, such as תפילה , תחינה and בקשה . What does ויעתר mean? Rashi explains, הרבה והפציר בתפילה . Meaning, Yitzhak didn’t just pray. He begged. And he begged more. And then some more. He kept asking and begging and crying and pleading. Yitzhak’s name ( יצחק ) is gematria equals 208, and Rivka’s name ( רבקה ) equals 307. Together, they equal 515. This is the same number of tefilot that Moshe Rabbenu prayed when he asked to be allowed to enter the Land of Israel, as indicated by the pasuk ואתחנן אל ה' – “I pleaded to Hashem” (the word ואתחנן equals 515). Moshe Rabbenu kept begging and begging, without stopping until Hashem told him to stop ( אל תוסף דבר אלי – Devarim 3:26). This is how Yitzhak and Rivka prayed for the blessing of children. They begged. They pleaded. They cried. And they didn’t stop. The story is told of a Rabbi who was walking with his students, and they came across a young boy who was crying. The Rabbi kneeled down to ask the boy what was wrong. The boy explained that he and his friends were playing hide-and-go-seek, and he was the one who hid. His friends never found him. “So what’s the problem?” the Rabbi asked. “Isn’t that what you want to happen?” “Yes, the boy said, but they eventually stopped looking for me. And that’s why I’m sad.” The Rabbi turned to his students and said that this is the true of our relationship with Hashem, as well. Sometimes, He hides. For reasons we are not supposed to know, He brings upon us difficult challenges, situations where it seems as though He isn’t here helping us. What He wants during these times, the Rabbi explained, is for us to continue looking for Him, without ever giving up. We need to continue begging, unrelentingly, until He finally answers. This is what is needed now, as well. It isn’t enough to just recite a few chapters of Tehillim for the captives and for our soldiers, and then call it a day. We need ויעתר – to keep asking and pleading. We need to stop praying and start begging; to stop talking and start crying; to stop using just words and start pleading with our hearts. Hashem wants us to keep searching, to keep pleading, until we find Him, and He will then come to help us and bring our nation the peace and tranquility that we so desperately want. May it happen speedily, amen .Thu, 16 Nov 2023 08:00:00 -0500Rabbi Joey HaberRabbi Joey HaberNoAn insight a week from Rabbi Joey Haber - Brought to you by itorah.com An insight a week from Rabbi Joey Haber - Brought to you by itorah.comParasha, Parsha, Sedra, Chumash, Hashkafa, Jewish outlookFall Off the Camelhttps://learntorah.com/content/cee513ef-73bd-4145-9261-676568a8f25a.mp3Parashat Hayeh-Sara tells the famous story of Eliezer, Avraham Avinu’s servant, who traveled to Aram Nahariyim to find a suitable match for Avraham’s son, Yitzhak. At the well outside the city, he met Rivka, and brought her back to Israel to marry Yitzhak. Something mysterious happened when Rivka saw Yitzhak for the first time. Yitzhak had gone out to the fields to pray, and Rivka, who was riding a camel, saw him. She promptly fell off the camel. Why did Rivka fall off the camel when she saw Yitzhak? Why did the sight of Yitzchak praying have such an impact on her? One explanation is that Rivka at this moment discovered that Yitzhak was not precisely the person she thought he was. Rivka was a paragon of hesed , loving kindness. When Eliezer saw her at the well outside her city, he approached her and ask for some water, and she proceeded to draw water for all his ten camels. It was then when Eliezer determined that she should marry Avraham’s son – because Avraham was, of course, the embodiment of hesed . It seemed like the perfect match – a young woman who excelled in the area of hesed , marrying the son of Avraham, the greatest exemplar of hesed that the world has ever known. Yitzhak, however, differed from his father. He of course performed hesed , but this was not his primary characteristic. He excelled mainly in the area of gevurah (literally, “power”) – self-discipline and self-sacrifice in the devoted service of Hashem. His strength was in prayer and in serving Hashem, not in extending hesed to other people. This is what Rivka realized when she saw him praying outside in the field. She had expected Yitzhak to be just like her, and she now recognized that he wasn’t. He differed somewhat from her expectations. ותפול מעל הגמל – Rivka fell from the גמל (camel). The word גמל alludes to גמילות חסדים – extending kindness. The Torah is telling us that Rivka made the decision to adjust, to adapt to what Yitzhak was. Needless to say, both she and Yitzhak were still kind and giving people. But Rivka realized that Yitzhak’s primary area of excellence was something else, and so she needed to adapt accordingly. She needed to “get down” from her focus on גמילות חסדים . This insight presents a crucial lesson to every young man and young woman in the process of seeking a marriage partner, or who is beginning marriage. A successful marriage requires a degree of flexibility. Almost every husband and wife realize at some point early on in the marriage that their partner is not precisely what they expected. There is always something about the spouse that comes as a surprise. And so marriage partners need to “fall off the camel,” to descend from their lofty expectations, and accept each other for who they are. Many of the problems that arise in marriage result from inflexibility, an unwillingness to “fall off the camel,” to adjust. The more flexible we are, the happier a relationship we will be able to create. Rivka understood that although Yitzhak was not precisely what she expected, this did not mean there was something wrong with him. It meant simply that he was great in a different way. This is what we need to understand in our relationships, too. Just because somebody is not precisely what we want him to be, this is not a reason to lose respect for that person. We need to train ourselves to “fall off the camel,” to have some flexibility, and appreciate people for who they are even when we expected something a little different.Thu, 09 Nov 2023 08:00:00 -0500Rabbi Joey HaberRabbi Joey HaberNoAn insight a week from Rabbi Joey Haber - Brought to you by itorah.com An insight a week from Rabbi Joey Haber - Brought to you by itorah.comParasha, Parsha, Sedra, Chumash, Hashkafa, Jewish outlookWhy to Have Guests…and Why Not to Have Guestshttps://learntorah.com/content/276389f5-91bf-4bae-91ac-e71f927536ed.mp3The Torah in Parashat Vayera tells of the way Avraham Avinu invited guests, serving three strangers – who, he did not realize, were angels – a full meal. Abraham did not only host guests, but went out of his way to find people who needed hospitality. Just several days after undergoing berit milah at an advanced age, he sat outside in the sun to look for people he could invite and host. In fact, the Gemara notes that Hashem appeared to Avraham on that day, and Avraham disrupted his “meeting” with Hashem in order to tend to these guests. The Gemara derives from this incident that welcoming guests is more important that meeting with Hashem. When Avraham first spoke to the angels, he said, יוקח נא מעט מים – offering “a little bit” of water (18:4). Avraham served them a large meal, but offered only “a little” water. Why? Rav Yisrael Salanter explained that Avraham here speaks in the passive form – יוקח – saying that “water will be brought,” and not, “I will bring water.” Avraham could not carry the water himself; he needed to have somebody else do this for him. And for this reason, he could not offer copious amounts of water. Avraham understood that he had no right to offer favors to people at somebody else’s expense. As much as he wanted to generously host his guests, he limited himself in order not to unduly inconvenience his household. The Peleh Yoetz devotes a section of the book to the importance of the mitzvah of הכנסת אורחים (welcoming guests). But after elaborating on the value of hospitality, he adds a very significant comment: אבל מצד אחר יש פסידא כשאשת בעל הבית היא תתגרש ואינה מסבה עם בעלה על השלחן, שאפשר יכבד עליהם יותר ישיבת האורח ולא יראו העת שילך לו. This means that sometimes, inviting guests can be the wrong thing to do – if it causes the family members to feel they are not part of the meal, or if it causes them a great deal of inconvenience. In our busy world, when we are always rushing and running about, trying to get more and more done, and our eyes always seem to be pointed toward a screen, Shabbat has become more important for family life than ever before. It is the only time when parents are free to focus on their children, and on one another. Having guests interferes with this golden opportunity, preventing us from giving our spouse and our children the attention they need and deserve. As important as הכנסת אורחים is, it must not come at the expense of our families. What, then, are we to do? If הכנסת אורחים is such an important mitzvah , but it can take its toll on the family, then should we invite guests or not? The Peleh Yoetz concludes: לכן כל ערום יעשה בדעת – “Therefore, every intelligent person should act wisely.” Meaning, we have to use our common sense to find the right balance. Of course hosting is wonderful and important. But we must take into account the needs and wishes of the family. We need to consult with them – even with the young children – and determine when and whom to invite. We must follow the example of Avraham Avinu, who went out of his way to welcome guests – but while ensuring not to overlook the needs of his family.Thu, 02 Nov 2023 08:00:00 -0500Rabbi Joey HaberRabbi Joey HaberNoAn insight a week from Rabbi Joey Haber - Brought to you by itorah.com An insight a week from Rabbi Joey Haber - Brought to you by itorah.comParasha, Parsha, Sedra, Chumash, Hashkafa, Jewish outlookParashat Lech Lecha- Peace in the Family – It’s Worth It!https://learntorah.com/content/107edb84-5f74-4a27-a8fc-793f79334690.mp3We read in Parashat Lech-Lecha of an argument that arose between Avraham Avinu and his nephew, Lot, who had accompanied him when he went to the live in Eretz Yisrael , and was living with him (13:7). The background to the argument is less important for our purposes here than the way Avraham handled it. Avraham said to Lot, אל נא תהי מריבה ביני וביניך – “Let there not be a fight between me and you” (13:8). Rav Moshe Alshich notes that in the previous pasuk , the Torah tells us ויהי ריב – that there was an “argument” between Avraham and Lot. It started as a ריב , a relatively minor argument, but Avraham feared that it would develop into a מריבה – a full-blown fight. Virtually all fights within families begin with a ריב , with something relatively minor and trivial. Somebody felt insulted. Somebody said something he or she shouldn’t have. Somebody overreacted. An invitation wasn’t extended. Eventually the feelings fester, until the two parties find themselves embroiled in a מריבה , a bitter, nasty fight. Avraham here teaches us not to allow a ריב to snowball into a מריבה . When there is some tension and friction – which is going to happen on occasion in any normal family – the important thing is to “nip it in the bud,” to keep these tensions at bay, rather than allowing them to grow into a full-blown fight. But Avraham also teaches us another lesson about fights within the family. He suggested to Lot, הפרד נא מעלי – that they separate. They tried living together, and it wasn’t working, so Avraham proposed that they part ways. When family members live on top of one another, it is all but expected that there will arguments and tensions. Of course, families should be close. But sometimes families are too close, resulting in fights. If family members see that too much together-time isn’t working, it is perfectly acceptable – and advisable – to separate somewhat, to allow more space between them. And if family members are partners in a business, and the partnership isn’t working, is might be a good idea to split up. Perhaps the most important lesson we learn from this story, however, is indicated to us by what happens right after. The Torah says that Hashem spoke to Avraham אחרי הפרד לוט מעמו – after Lot separated from him (13:14). As Rashi observes, the Torah emphasizes that Hashem spoke to Avraham specifically after Lot moved away. Rashi explains that as Lot was not so righteous, Hashem would not speak to Avraham while Lot lived with Avraham. Only after Lot left could Avraham receive prophecy. Lot’s presence prevented Avraham from having Hashem speak with him – and yet, he kept Lot with him until he saw that it wasn’t working. Avraham did not regard his relationship with Lot as expendable – even for the privilege of having Hashem speak with him!! He insisted on remaining together with Lot even at this expense. It was only when he feared that the situation would lead to a מריבה that he suggested to Lot that they separate. Few things are as valuable or rewarding than peaceful relations within the family. And few things are as painful and destructive than strife within the family. Sometimes, there is no choice but הפרד נא מעלי , to create some distance. But this should be a last resort. In most situations, it is worth it to maintain the peace, to forget and forgive. If Avraham was willing to forego on prophecy for the sake of his relationship with his nephew, then we can certainly forgive family members for hurtful things they said and did for the sake of keeping the family together. Most things are simply not worth a fight, not worth allowing a ריב to evolve into a מריבה . Peace within the family should always be a high priority – one for which we should be willing to make difficult sacrifices.Thu, 26 Oct 2023 08:00:00 -0500Rabbi Joey HaberRabbi Joey HaberNoAn insight a week from Rabbi Joey Haber - Brought to you by itorah.com An insight a week from Rabbi Joey Haber - Brought to you by itorah.comParasha, Parsha, Sedra, Chumash, Hashkafa, Jewish outlookWe Need to Know How We Affect the People Around Ushttps://learntorah.com/content/8a17686d-b781-4160-aa8e-8c5c59c905ed.mp3The first pasuk in Parashat Noach describes him as an איש צדיק – “righteous man,” and also as תמים , which means “pure,” or “innocent.” Later, however, we read that when Hashem brought the flood, He told Noach to enter the ark כי אותך ראיתי צדיק לפני בדור הזה – “for I have seen that you are righteous in this generation.” The commentaries raise the question of why Noach is first described as both an איש צדיק and as a תמים , but is then described only as a צדיק . If he was both a צדיק and a תמים , then why is he called only a צדיק the second time? One answer given is that it’s wonderful to be both a צדיק and a תמים in our own lives, with regard to ourselves, but בדור הזה (“in this generation”), in our dealings with other people, we must not be תמים ; we should be only צדיק . The word תמים , as mentioned, denotes purity and innocence. These are, of course, important qualities to strive for. We should act righteously and trust Hashem with simple, pure, innocent faith. However, when we engage with people, we cannot be perfectly pure and innocent. People are complex, and fragile, and things we say and do – however well-intentioned – can cause them pain. If we are too תמים , too pure and innocent, we will be unable to properly understand people, and we will thus be unable to deal with them in a kind, sensitive manner. Simplicity is not a virtue. We cannot be so simplistic as to say that we didn’t realize that such-and-such remark hurt somebody’s feelings. We cannot be so innocent that we cannot understand the complexities of people’s emotions, how easily they are hurt. We need to be smart enough to understand the impact of our words and actions on the people around us. The Rambam describes the way that one was to treat his servant, back in ancient times, when people would have servants who were, in a sense, their property. He writes, לא יבזהו ביד ולא בדברים – a master is not permitted to cause the servant humiliation, “neither with his hand, nor with words.” The Rambam adds that one may not speak angrily or shout at the servant, and must instead speak to him pleasantly. It is noteworthy that the Rambam forbids humiliating a servant not only by insulting him, but also ביד , with his hand. This might mean that even simply making a gesture with one’s hand, expressing disdain for the servant, is not allowed. Our facial expressions and body language are important methods of communication. Not only do our words impact upon other people’s feelings, but so do the way we look at them, our hand motions, and other gestures. When interacting with people, we must not be תמים , simpleminded, failing to consider how we emotional affect the people around us. This is especially relevant to employers. People who pay others to work for them often feel entitled to embarrass their workers, or to shout at them, to speak to them in a manner that makes them feel inferior. As the Rambam taught us, we are commanded to respect the feelings of even those under our charge. Even in ancient times, when people owned servants, it was not permissible to embarrass them or to get angry them. Certainly, then, we must be careful how we speak to our workers nowadays. We must recognize that, ultimately, we are all the servants of Hashem, and nobody has the right to make anybody else feel inferior. We can’t be תמים . Whenever we speak to others, whether at home, at work, at community events, or anywhere else, we must think carefully about how we are affecting their feelings, and speak to them with the kind of respect that we would want them to show us.Thu, 19 Oct 2023 08:00:00 -0500Rabbi Joey HaberRabbi Joey HaberNoAn insight a week from Rabbi Joey Haber - Brought to you by itorah.com An insight a week from Rabbi Joey Haber - Brought to you by itorah.comParasha, Parsha, Sedra, Chumash, Hashkafa, Jewish outlookWe Can Meet the Challengehttps://learntorah.com/content/e759ef8e-b06f-4a08-ad13-08e5d526cda0.mp3We have all heard how wealth poses considerable spiritual challenges. In many instances, it makes it difficult to raise disciplined, hard-working children. It is difficult to withstand the urge to arrogantly and proudly show off one’s fortune. People become jealous of a wealthy person, and many try to be your friend for their own self-interests. It is difficult to focus on one’s religious growth because money opens the door to so many distractions and so many possibilities. And yet, if any of us – myself included – would be offered several million dollars, we would accept it, without a second thought. We would probably tell ourselves that we are able to meet the challenges, that our values and convictions are strong enough to resist the lures and temptations to which our newfound fortune would expose us, that we have what it takes to faithfully follow our principles despite being fabulously wealthy. With this in mind, let us look at what is likely the most difficult question regarding Parashat Bereshit, the question of how Adam and Havah could have made such a grave mistake – eating the fruit of the forbidden tree. Adam and Havah were the only people in the history of humanity who were created directly by G-d. They were pure and pristine. How could they have violated Hashem’s command to refrain from the fruit of the tree? If any of us were told we could enjoy all the fruits in a garden except for some, we would certainly comply. If we would have, then why didn’t Adam and Havah? The Saba of Nevarduk, in his Madregat Ha’adam , offers an explanation. He writes that Adam and Havah knew that eating the forbidden fruit would have the consequence of forcing them to struggle. This fruit introduced temptations and inclinations which they – and all people, forever – would have to resist. But they knew that this struggle had the potential to make them far greater than they could have been otherwise. If we succeed in resisting our temptations, if we win this struggle against our negative tendencies, then we rise to a level greater than the angels, who do not have this struggle, who are naturally drawn to do the right thing. Adam and Havah wanted this struggle so that they could attain greatness. They decided to bring upon themselves spiritual challenge so that they could overcome this challenge and thereby rise to great heights. Adam and Havah were, on the one hand, wrong for making this decision. They should not have voluntarily chosen this battle. But in a different sense, they were absolutely correct. We do, in fact, have the strength to overcome spiritual challenges. We are stronger than we think. We can accomplish great things, even if tall hurdles stand in the way. We aren’t weak. Adam and Havah made the wrong choice, but they were right about one thing – we can meet the spiritual challenges that we confront. We have just concluded the special holiday season, and are going back to our regular routine. We no longer have any excuses for not putting in the work to achieve our goals, to address our problems. Perhaps we could be excused for pushing things off back in the early spring, when Pesach approached, and then after Pesach, as the summer approached, and then during the summer, and then as the holidays came upon us. But now, we have no more excuses. Every single one of us is struggling with something, and now is the time to focus on meeting that challenge, whatever it may be. And we must remember that we have the ability to meet the challenge. The holiday season gave us strength. Whether or not we realize it, we have grown over the last month. We have renewed and reinvigorated our faith and our conviction. We are more resolute in our commitment to Torah and mitzvot than we were before this holiday season. So let’s now get to work. Let’s stop making excuses, and let’s instead recognize that we have the ability to confront our challenges. Let us all think about which parts of our lives need fixing, and commit ourselves to fix them. And let us remind ourselves – now and always – that we are strong enough to fix them, and to win whichever battle it is that we’re currently waging.Thu, 12 Oct 2023 08:00:00 -0500Rabbi Joey HaberRabbi Joey HaberNoAn insight a week from Rabbi Joey Haber - Brought to you by itorah.com An insight a week from Rabbi Joey Haber - Brought to you by itorah.comParasha, Parsha, Sedra, Chumash, Hashkafa, Jewish outlook