Weekly ethical messages and lessons curated from the Parasha orated by Rabbi Joey Haber https://itorah.com/weekly-inspire/search en-us Copyright 2026 iTorah.com Sat, 12 Sep 2026 00:01:11 GMT Sat, 12 Sep 2026 00:01:11 GMT http://blogs.law.harvard.edu/tech/rss itorahwebsite@gmail.com Rabbi Joey Haber Relevant weekly insights by Rabbi Joey Haber Insights into the weekly parasha or upcoming holiday by Rabbi Joey Haber episodic Torah Learning Resources. itorahwebsite@gmail.com No 491b5fde-9bb5-631d-9d5b-ce4725fcd956 הנסתרות לה' אלוקינו, והנגלות לנו ולבנינו עד עולם – "The hidden matters are for Hashem our G-d; but the revealed matters are for us and our children, forever…" (29:28) The Hovot Ha'levavot (in the Sha'ar He'behinah section) presents an analogy which captures the idea that this pasuk in Parashat Nitzavim is telling us. He describes a blind man being brought into a fully-furnished and fully-stocked home. It has beds, chairs, tables and couches, and all the food and beverages that he would need. But it also has something truly extraordinary – a doctor with a special medication that would cure the man of his blindness. The man enters the home, and starts walking around – banging into furniture, falling and hurting himself. The doctor approaches him and tells him that he can cure his blindness so he can see again. But the blind man, stubbornly and inexplicably, refuses. He doesn't want the treatment. He continues walking around and getting hurt. He bitterly complains and asks why he was brought into this home where nothing is in the right place, and where he can't do anything without hurting himself. The Hovot Ha'levavot explains that many people here in our world are just like this blind man. They find the world difficult, inhospitable and painful. Things aren't where they should be. They expect something to happen a certain way, but it happens a different way. Just like the blind man doesn't expect the stairs to be where they were, people don't expect situations to unfold the way they do, and so they "fall" and get hurt, like the blind man. They have in their mind a plan of how things should be – just like the blind man is used to his old home, and expects everything to be the same in his new home – and so they repeatedly "bump" into things and feel embittered. All this happens because they are "blind," and they refuse to take the "cure" for their blindness, which is emunah . Emunah opens our eyes to realize that we are in a "house" furnished and designed by Hashem, who invites us to use everything there. The "chair" might not be where we expect it to be, or where we want it to be, but when we see it through the lenses of emunah , we are able to "sit," to use it, to benefit from it. Once we "treat" our "blindness" through emunah , we'll stop getting hurt, because we'll stop expecting things to be precisely the way we think they should be. הנסתרות לה' אלוקינו – the reasons why our world is arranged the way it is belong only to Hashem. These remain hidden for now. We believe that one day we will understand, but in the meantime, we do not have access to this information. It is not our job to explain why things are the way they are. Our job is the נגלות – to open our eyes, to cure our blindness, to accept the world and our lives as they are, and then make the most of it, by enjoying and appreciating our blessings, and by using our challenges and hardships as catalysts for growth. Unfortunately, so many people are disillusioned with Judaism because they have unreasonable expectations. They hear exciting stories of hashgahah peratit (divine providence), of how Hashem helped people, and assume that everything is always supposed to work out. They fail to recognize the נסתרות , that there are things they aren't supposed to understand. The stories of hashgahah peratit are of course real, and they show us that Hashem is here with us, but they do not mean that things will always work out perfectly the way we want. We live in a world of both נסתרות and נגלות – of things that we aren't supposed to understand, but that we are supposed to know how to respond to. We must not get bogged down by the נסתרות – why past events happened, and what the future will bring. Instead, we need to focus on the נגלות – on what Hashem expects of us right now, in the present, in whatever circumstances we currently face. Mon, 31 Aug 2026 00:01:11 GMT Rabbi Joey Haber Rabbi Joey Haber No An 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.com Parasha, Parsha, Sedra, Chumash, Hashkafa, Jewish outlook 8439bbe7-5177-c74f-f480-c55183d90385 Parashat Ki-Tavo begins with the mitzvah of bikkurim , which requires farmers to bring the first ripened fruits to the Bet Ha'mikdash , and present them to a kohen . In one sense, bikkurim resembles other agricultural mitzvot which obligate a person to give the first portion of his produce to Hashem. On the other hand, the mitzvah of bikkurim has something unique, an element that we don't find with other mitzvot , and that is a requirement to make a special declaration when arriving in the Bet Ha'mikdash . This declaration, known as מקרא ביכורים , recounts the origins of our nation, recalling how our ancestors were enslaved in Egypt, cried out to Hashem, and then were miraculously freed, eventually coming into the Land of Israel. The farmer concludes by announcing that he has brought his first fruits to Hashem. These pesukim are familiar to us from the text of the Haggadah at the seder , where we use these pesukim as the springboard to discuss the story of our ancestors' enslavement and the miracles of Yetziat Mitzrayim . Why does the farmer give this whole speech? Why is it not enough for him to bring his first fruits and present them to the kohen in the Bet Ha'mikdash ? I occasionally have the experience of looking at a painting and wondering how much it cost. Due to my limited knowledge of art, I often cannot tell if a painting is a simple work, worth maybe $200, or is a rare collectors' item, worth perhaps tens of thousands of dollars. Often, we look at something which seems to us pretty ordinary, when it's actually a priceless object. This is true of life's experiences, as well. Life gets so busy, so pressured and so chaotic, that we so often don't appreciate the value of the moment. The brief conversation with a child who comes home from school. The dinner table. The family get together. The ride in the car with a spouse or child. These are precious moments, but because we're always feeling pressured and we're always rushing, we don't appreciate them. We rush through them instead of being fully present. Later in the parashah , we read a section where Moshe Rabbenu warns of the calamities that would befall the Jewish People if they abandon the Torah. One of these warnings is והיו חייך תלויים לך מנגד – "Your lives will be hanging in front of you" (28:66). This pasuk is generally interpreted to mean that the people would face such grave danger, that their lives would be "hanging," always at risk. However, somebody shared with me a different reading – that the people would be so pressured, so anxious, that their lives would be "hanging" in front of them instead of being actually lived and experienced. It would always seem that our lives are "hanging," that we're constantly under pressure, desperately trying to do what we need to do, to the point where we're not living. With this in mind, we can perhaps understand the law of מקרא ביכורים . The Torah didn't want the farmer to simply bring his first fruits to the Bet Ha'mikdash . It wanted the farmer to be fully present, and fully aware of the precious value of this moment, of what it means that he grew fruits in Eretz Yisrael . He was required to reflect on what this moment meant – that Hashem performed miracles for his ancestors, and brought them out of slavery so they could live in a special land and produce their own fruit. This seemingly simple event should be appreciated. This is not a $200 painting; this is a priceless moment. Institutions of Torah learning as known by the word yeshivah , which literally means "sitting." Rather than referring to them by the act of studying, we use the word yeshivah , because it connotes ישוב הדעת – focus and concentration. A yeshivah is not merely a place of learning. It is a place of focused attention on learning, a place free of distractions, a place where a student is fully present, concentrating solely on his growth as in Torah. Let us resolve to strive to always be present and focused in everything we do. Instead of right away thinking of the next thing on our schedule or our "to-do" list, let's instead be present in the moment. Whomever we're talking to, let's be present and focused on that person. Whichever mitzvah we're involved in at any given moment, let's be present and focused on that mitzvah . Whatever task we need to take care of, let's be present and focused to get it done the right way. Let's recognize and appreciate the precious value of every small moment. If we live with this mindfulness, being presented and focused, then we will feel so much more accomplished, knowing that each moment of our lives is a priceless "piece of art." Mon, 24 Aug 2026 00:01:11 GMT Rabbi Joey Haber Rabbi Joey Haber No An 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.com Parasha, Parsha, Sedra, Chumash, Hashkafa, Jewish outlook ab082ddf-3763-3d28-7fab-1e0c2abc5528 One of the mitzvot which the Torah presents in Parashat Ki-Tetzeh is שילוח הקן – sending away the mother bird. When a person wishes to take an egg or young bird from a best, he must first send away the mother bird before taking her young (22:6-7). The Mishnah (Megillah 25a) instructs that it is inappropriate to say to G-d while praying, על קן צפור יגיע רחמיך – "Your compassion reaches even the bird's nest." The Gemara gives the example of a certain hazzan who was leading the service in the presence of Rabbah, one of the great Rabbis of the Talmud, and this hazzan said to Hashem: אתה חסת על קן צפור אתה חוס ורחם עלינו – "You had compassion on the bird's nest; You shall similarly have compassion and mercy upon us." This hazzan , the Gemara related, spoke improperly, as one should not invoke the bird's nest in his prayer. The Hatam Sofer offers a unique explanation of the Gemara. The bird, he writes, symbolizes the human body, our physical beings. Thus, for example, we read in the Book of Vayikra that after a person was stricken with tzara'at , he was required to undergo a process of purification that included two birds, representing his body's restoration. When the hazzan prayed that G-d should have compassion on us like He has compassion for the bird, he was saying: "Just as You, Hashem, care for our bodies, for our physical wellbeing, making the heart, liver, kidneys, brain, lungs and the rest of our bodies work at every moment, please also help my soul." He was praying for G-d to take care of us spiritually, just as He takes care of us physically. And this is a mistake. When it comes to our physical wellbeing, we are to trust Hashem. We must make a reasonable effort, but with the understanding that the outcome depends entirely on Hashem and not on our hard work or ingenuity. The Shulhan Aruch mentions the custom to read every day the section of the Torah that tells of the manna, and the Mishnah Berurah explains, כדי שיאמין שכל מזונותיו באין בהשגחה פרטית – so that we believe that our livelihood comes through Hashem's providence. The Torah says that if a person in the desert collected more manna than he was supposed to, or less manna than he was supposed to, he would still end up with the amount he was meant to have. We are encouraged to read about this each day to remind ourselves that although we are expected to make an effort to earn a living, the results are determined solely by Hashem, and not by our efforts. When it comes to our spirituality, however, we need to take responsibility. We cannot just sit back and ask Hashem to take care of it for us. We need to be proactive. The greatest Rosheh Yeshiva in the world spend a great deal of time fundraising for their institutions. Of course, they pray to Hashem for help – but they see this as their responsibility. When the Greeks defiled the Bet Ha'mikdash and forbade the Jews from learning and observing the Torah, the Hashmonaim did not just arrange for large prayer gatherings and call for Tehillim groups. They mobilized an army and took up arms to defend the Torah – in addition, of course, to praying to Hashem to make their efforts successful. Elul is the time especially designated for this purpose – to take responsibility for our spirituality. This is the time to stop waiting for inspiration, for someone or something to get us more involved and more committed. More than any other time of year, Elul is when we must take matters into our own hands, when we need to take the initiative and motivate ourselves, push ourselves, and decide that we are going to try harder and grow. Mon, 17 Aug 2026 00:01:11 GMT Rabbi Joey Haber Rabbi Joey Haber No An 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.com Parasha, Parsha, Sedra, Chumash, Hashkafa, Jewish outlook 36201e28-142c-7796-a168-431da3ec4a0a The Torah in Parashat Shoftim discusses the situation of a person who had built a new house but was recruited to the army before he had a chance to live in it. Such a person would be sent home before battle. The Torah refers to this individual as האיש אשר בנה בית ולא חנכו – a person who built a house but has not done חינוך (20:5). Rashi explains: חינוך לשון התחלה – the root ח.נ.ך. means "begin." In this pasuk , לא חנכו means that the person built a new house but hasn't yet begun using it. The word חינוך , of course, is used also in reference to education. And Rashi's brief comment here sheds light on what חינוך is and how parents need to approach it. חינוך means "beginning." That is all. It means we prepare our children for the future, we get them off to a good start by teaching them how to live. It does not mean we control their lives, that we decide their lives, that we don't let them make their decisions. Controlling children is not חינוך . Education requires knowing when to let go, when to let children make their own decisions, to empower them by showing them that we trust them and have confidence in them. The founder of our nation, Avraham Avinu, is called in the Torah אברהם העברי . He is not called "Avraham the Tzadik ," or "Avraham the Holy One." He is called the עברי , which means that he came from the other side of the river. He moved to the Land of Israel, but he was from the other side of the Euphrates River, so he was called העברי . Why is this Avraham's name? Why does it matter that he came from the other side of the river? The answer is that this name expresses Avraham Avinu's most important quality – and the most important quality that we need to develop within our children. As the Midrash explains: כל העולם מעבר אחד, והוא מעבר אחד – the entire world was on one side, and he was on the other side. Avraham Avinu had confidence. He had the confidence to be different, to swim against the current, to stand alone. When the whole world was worshipping idols, he taught the belief in Hashem. When the whole world was selfish and corrupt, he taught and exemplified kindness and generosity. He followed his beliefs and convictions even when the entire world followed different beliefs and convictions. This is what our children need, especially in today's world. They need confidence. They need to believe in themselves. And one of the ways we give them this confidence and this belief in themselves is by getting involved, but not getting too involved; by setting limits, but knowing when to allow them to decide. If we pull away completely, then we are not giving our children confidence. We are conveying the message that they aren't important enough, that they don't matter enough, for us to care. But if we smother them, if we exert too much control, then we make them feel feeble and incapable. This is the difficult balancing act that parenting requires us to do. Somebody told me a remarkable story about Rav Yaakov Ruderman, the revered Rosh Yeshiva of Ner Yisrael in Baltimore, who was recognized as one of the leading Torah sages in the United States. When his wife passed away, he moved in with one of his children, and he shared a bedroom with a grandson. He walked into the room and saw posters of famous sports stars on the walls. He asked his grandson who these people were, and his grandson – embarrassed – told him. "You like them?" the great Rosh Yeshiva asked. "Yes I do," the boy replied. "Well if you like them," Rav Ruderman said, "then I LOVE them!" This is a beautiful example of חינוך , of preparing a child for adult life through empowerment, by showing them that they are valued, that their interests are important to us. When we take interest in their lives while respecting their space and allowing them to make decisions, they feel our respect and our trust, and this gives them the confidence to stand מעבר אחד , alone on one side, to resist negative influences and live according to their beliefs and values. Thu, 13 Aug 2026 00:01:11 GMT Rabbi Joey Haber Rabbi Joey Haber No An 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.com Parasha, Parsha, Sedra, Chumash, Hashkafa, Jewish outlook acb373ae-eff5-53ac-4819-f30d708305a8 Parashat Re'eh presents the precious mitzvah of tzedakah , the obligation to lend financial assistance to those in need: לא תאמץ את לבבך ולא תקפוץ את ידך מאחיך האביון. כי פתח תפתח את ידך לו... Do not harden your heart and do not shut your hand from your brother, the pauper. Rather, you shall open your hand to him… A famous pasuk in Mishleh (10:2) teaches וצדקה תציל ממות – "and charity saves from death." On one level, this means that charity saves the recipient from death. Poverty can be a form of "death." A person living in a constant state of financial stress does not truly live. By relieving a person's financial strain, one effectively restores his life. And, in reward, Hashem saves the donor from fatal decrees that had been issued against him. But additionally, charity saves from death in the sense that it defines the essence of life. We earn the privilege of continuing to live if we fulfill the purpose for which we were put here in the first place – to open our hands, to give, to contribute. In the Book of Shemuel I we read the story of Naval, a wealthy man to whom David sent his men to ask for food and provisions while they were are in the run. Naval rudely and apathetically rejected their request and turned them away. Soon thereafter, G-d killed him. This was a man who lived with his fists tightly clenched, keeping everything he was given for himself, and refusing to share it with anybody. Therefore, he did not deserve to live another day. If a person is not giving, then he cannot continue living – because giving is the essence of life. Appropriately, this man was named נבל , which means "repugnant" or "disgraceful." Living with clenched fists is disgraceful. It is a betrayal of the very purpose of life. It hurts to see people who have so much but refuse to share what they have with others. We are created precisely for the purpose of פתוח תפתח את ידך , opening our hands and giving to other people. We are here not to make the world perfect – something only G-d can do – but rather to live with open hands, to help anyone we are capable of helping in any way we can. The Gemara (Berachot 4b) teaches that one who recites three times each day the chapter of Tehillim known to us as Ashreh (145) is guaranteed a share in the next world. The reason this chapter is so special, the Gemara explains, is because of one particular pasuk in this chapter: פותח את ידיך ומשביע לכל חי רצון – "You open Your hands and satiate every living creature who wants." When we pray, we acknowledge the fact that Hashem is פותח את ידיך ומשביע , that He provides our needs. And if we want Him to "open His hands" to give to us, then we must open our hands to give to others. A pasuk elsewhere in Tehillim (121:5) describes Hashem as our "shadow": ה' שומריך ה' צלך על יד ימינך – "Hashem is your protector; Hashem is your shadow on your right side." This has been explained to mean that G-d acts towards us in accordance with the way we act. When we walk in the sun and produce a shadow, the shadow does what we do. If we lift our right arm, the shadow's right arm is raised. If we move our left leg, the shadow's left leg moves. Hashem is our "shadow" in the sense that He mimics our conduct. The more generous and giving we are to other people, the more generous and giving He is to us. And the more passion, energy and zeal we invest in giving, the more He steps in to assist us in our efforts. Thu, 06 Aug 2026 00:01:11 GMT Rabbi Joey Haber Rabbi Joey Haber No An 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.com Parasha, Parsha, Sedra, Chumash, Hashkafa, Jewish outlook 436e595d-1611-aaff-ea27-21987451e533 A man once approached me for advice regarding the following sticky situation that he found himself in. He was exceptionally wealthy, and he had three brothers who were not. For a long time, he was giving his three brothers collectively $1 million every year to help them out. He was able to afford it, except that as his kids were getting older, he wanted to buy them homes and start businesses for them, and did not have enough. He asked me what he should do, as he did not want to create problems with his brothers. This question touches upon a very important issue – the limits of the quality of ותרנות , more commonly called "being mevater " – giving in, foregoing, sacrificing to accommodate others in the interest of avoiding conflict and of being generous. There are many sources in the Gemara that talk about the great importance and great power of this quality. For example, the Gemara in Masechet Rosh Hashanah (17a) tells that Rav Huna Bereh De'Rabbi Yehoshua took very ill and was about to die, but he was allowed to continue living in the merit of this quality, of not being uncompromisingly insistent. Elsewhere (Ta'anit 20b), we learn that Rav Ada bar Ahava earned long life because, in his words, מימי לא הקפדתי בתוך ביתי – he never got angry at his family members, and always let things go. Countless stories are told of people who sought advice from great Torah sages regarding problems and challenges they faced, and the recommendation was to work on this particular character trait, to "be mevater ," to give in, to let go of hard feelings, to keep quiet, to not respond, to sacrifice for the sake of maintaining a peaceful relationship. But are there limits to this quality? Or is a person expected to turn himself into a doormat and let people take advantage of him, for the sake of peace? The Gemara answers this question very clearly toward the beginning of Masechet Ta'anit (4a). The Gemara cites a pasuk in Parashat Ekev (8:9) where Moshe Rabbenu describes the Land of Israel as ארץ אשר אבניה ברזל – "a land whose stones are iron." Clearly, stones are not iron. The Gemara therefore rereads this pasuk to mean, ארץ אשר בוניה ברזל – "a land whose builders are iron." The term "builders," the Gemara explains, refers to Torah scholars, who form the spiritual foundation of the Jewish People. The Gemara says that this pasuk is teaching that a Torah scholar must be קשה כברזל – "hard as iron." In order to accomplish, in order to lead, in order to firmly adhere to one's values and principles, one needs to be tough as nails. Of course, when it is appropriate to "be mevater ," one should certainly do so. If a friend or family member makes a comment we don't like, we should remain silent. If there's some disagreement over a relatively trivial matter, we should give in. If some issue arises that potentially puts the entire relationship at stake, then very often, the right thing to do is give in. But this does mean that a person should let himself be abused and taken advantage of. There are times when a person needs the strength and courage to stand up for himself, to not let things continue the way they are if they cause him harm or pain. If a friend continually speaks insultingly, then the right thing to do is end the friendship. If generously giving money to one's siblings prevents him from helping his children, he needs to have the strength to change the arrangement. If a devoted teacher spends so much time talking to and helping his students that he doesn't have time for his own children, then he needs to set limits. Immediately after teaching that a Torah scholar must be קשה כברזל , the Gemara then adds: אפילו הכי מיבעי ליה לאיניש למילף נפשיה בניחותא – "Nevertheless, a person needs to accustom himself to [speak] softly." At times a person needs to be tough and set limits – but this should be done gently, respectfully, without anger and resentment. There is no contradiction between קשה כברזל and ניחותא , between the strength and courage to change the situation, and remaining calm and avoiding hostility in the process of making that change. This was my advice to the man who was giving his brothers money every year. I recommended that he gently explain to them that he is happy to help them, and they should never hesitate to ask if something comes up and they need some extra money, but that he simply cannot continue the current arrangement. We must live with the feeling that every day is important, rife with possibilities, and full of opportunities to achieve. Therefore, we need to live each day with decisiveness, with leadership, with courage, with strength. We need to fight – not against people, but against situations that stifle us, that hold us back from maximizing our potential and living our best lives. And this fight often takes strength, and requires us to be קשה כברזל – not nasty, not rude, not angry, not bitter, but tough as iron. We are to be both tough and soft – tough enough to overcome the obstacles that stand in our way and to make the difficult changes that need to be made, but soft enough to do it gently and respectfully, without inviting animosity. Thu, 30 Jul 2026 00:01:11 GMT Rabbi Joey Haber Rabbi Joey Haber No An 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.com Parasha, Parsha, Sedra, Chumash, Hashkafa, Jewish outlook e2fb0437-f0c5-0b75-2a16-030905f8a883 In one of the more famous pesukim in the Torah, Moshe Rabbenu tells the people in Parashat Va'et'hanan (4:4), ואתם הדבקים בה' אלוקיכם חיים כולכם היום – "And you, who are attached to Hashem your G-d, are all alive today." One of the commentaries offers us insight into the pasuk by noting that the gematria (numerical value) of the word חיים ("alive") is 68, which is twice the gematria of the word דל , which means "impoverished" or "lowly." Only a person who is exceptionally דל – humble, with "double" humility – can achieve the level of דבקים בה' אלוקיכם , of being "attached" to Hashem. When a person lives with extreme humility, recognizing his frailty, his weaknesses, his faults, his unworthiness, and his dependence on Hashem for everything, then he is constantly connected to Hashem. He is at all times acknowledging all that Hashem has done for him, thanking Hashem for everything he has, and praying to Hashem for everything that he needs. And when a person reaches this level, then he is truly חיים – "alive." Many people intuitively think that they are more "alive" and successful when they are self-assured and aggressive in pursuing what they want. The Torah is teaching us that to the contrary, a key to a happy, fulfilling life is "double" humility, submitting to Hashem's will and placing Hashem at the center of everything. If a person lives for himself, only for his own gratification and enjoyment, rather than for the higher purpose of serving Hashem, then his life is empty and lacks meaning. There is another pasuk in the Torah where we find the root דבק – "attached," and that is in the Torah's description of marriage: על כן יעזוב איש את אביו ואת אמו ו דבק באשתו – "Therefore, a man leaves his father and mother and attaches to his wife" (Bereshit 2:24). In marriage – like in one's relationship with Hashem – "attachment" requires humility and selfless devotion. ודבק באשתו means creation a deep, genuine emotional bond, and this cannot happen without selflessness. It requires listening, accepting, acknowledging, validating, understanding, and being flexible. All of these qualities demand humility, putting one's own ego and one's own interests to the side in order to make room for somebody else's needs. This week marks Tu B'Av, the day which the Mishnah (Ta'anit 26b) says was one of the two most joyous days of the year. It was a day when the unmarried girls would go out into the vineyards, and the young men would come and shidduchim were made. The Mishnah tells that the girls would all wear borrowed dresses, so that those from poor families would not feel embarrassed. One of the commentaries pointed out that this arrangement ensured that the girls would not feel overly proud. When people borrow clothing, they feel somewhat less comfortable and proud of themselves. When people are preparing for marriage, one of the most important qualities is humility. If a person is too consumed with himself, if a person is too self-absorbed, then he cannot take someone else's feelings, needs, wishes and preferences into account, and the marriage is not likely to be a happy one. Marriage is about דביקות , attachment, and this requires selflessness. When a husband and wife succeed in building that attachment, then they can be said to be truly חיים – "alive," with joy and vitality, connected in a way that brings unparalleled fulfillment and happiness. Thu, 23 Jul 2026 00:01:11 GMT Rabbi Joey Haber Rabbi Joey Haber No An 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.com Parasha, Parsha, Sedra, Chumash, Hashkafa, Jewish outlook f4c0a337-0119-9459-3d41-606ef4c0d7bf Many people, understandably, are confused about what the period of Ben Ha'metzarim – the Three Weeks from Shivah Asar Ba'Tammuz through Tisha B'Av – is all about. We observe certain mourning practices, and abstain from a number of activities, culminating with Tisha B'Av, when we fast, sit on the floor, and mourn. What is the purpose of this mourning if we then just resume our normal routines? What's the value of "losing" three weeks of fun during the summer? Why is this necessary? The answer is likely found in the opening verses of Megilat Echah , the collection of lamentations written by the prophet Yirmiyahu after the destruction of the Bet Ha'mikdash , which we read on Tisha B'Av. This Megillah begins: איכה ישבה בדד, העיר רבתי עם היתה כאלמנה.. בכו תבכה בלילה ודמעתה על לחיה אין לה מנחם מכל אוהביה... דרכי ציון אבלות מבלי באי מועד כל שעריה שוממין... How does she [Jerusalem] dwell alone, the city with so many people? She has become like a widow… She cries intensely at night, and her tear is on her cheek; she has no one from all her loved ones to console her… The roads of Zions are in mourning, without anyone coming for the holidays; all its gates are desolate… These opening pesukim clearly emphasize one theme: loneliness. The city that was once teeming with people is now alone, desolate, empty. It is like a widow, who lies alone, without anyone to wipe her tears, to bring her comfort. When people are hurting, the pain is made so much more intense by the feeling of loneliness, by having no one who understands, who commiserates, who provides emotional support. Our job when a friend or family friend is hurting is to make sure that person doesn't feel alone. If there is practical assistance that we can provide, then of course we should try to provide it. But if not, this doesn't mean we can't help. We can – and must – help by showing up, by being there, by calling, by reminding the person that he or she is not alone. This does not mean we are to be sad around the clock when somebody close with us is hurting. We can still enjoy and live a happy life. But we have to make sure that this person does not feel alone. Our Sages teach us that as long as the Bet Ha'mikdash remains unbuilt, Hashem Himself is in exile. He does not have His home, so-to-speak. It is as though Hashem is in pain. And this is what the Three Weeks, the Nine Days, and Tisha B'Av are all about – making sure Hashem is not "alone." During these weeks, we need to show Him that we care, that we have not forgotten about Him, that we understand that things aren't the way they're supposed to be, that He's "suffering." Different occasions on the Jewish calendar require us to connect to Hashem in different ways. The period we are in now requires us to connect to Hashem by feeling His pain, by sharing in His sadness, by showing that we are not indifferent to the "exile" of the Shechinah . One of the commentaries suggested an analogy to a businessman who did everything he could to help his sons and secure their financial future. He bought them homes and gave them money so they could jumpstart their own businesses, borrowing money against his own enterprise. The business couldn't keep up, and he ended up going bankrupt and struggling to repay his debts. One day, his friend saw him sitting and crying. The friend sat down next to him to offer some comfort. "It's not just that I lost all my money," the man said through the tears. "It's that my sons no longer talk to me. I did all this for them, I sacrificed all this for them, and they're not even in touch. That pain is just too much to bear." The pasuk describes Yerushalayim's weeping with the words בכו תבכה , as though there are two different types of crying. Hashem "cries" because He is in exile, but also because His children don't care. Hashem has done so much for us, and we benefit from His blessings each and every day, just like the sons of the man in the story. The period of the Three Weeks is the time to show Him that we care, that we feel His pain, and that we are ready to do what we can to heal it. May we all rise to the occasion and be worthy of the rebuilding of the Bet Ha'mikdash and the return of the Shechinah , אמן . Thu, 16 Jul 2026 00:01:11 GMT Rabbi Joey Haber Rabbi Joey Haber No An 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.com Parasha, Parsha, Sedra, Chumash, Hashkafa, Jewish outlook 6cd662ab-18cc-7371-af73-c236f4d5cf96 A couple once came to me for advice, explaining that they have several children who are older and still not married. "We're embarrassed to go anywhere," they said. "We know that everyone's looking at us, everyone's feeling sorry for us and talking about what's wrong with us and our children." My response to them was clear and simple. I said: "Get it out of your head. No one's looking at you or talking about you. You're making yourselves upset and anxious for no reason. Go out and enjoy. Stop worrying about what other people are thinking or saying. They have their own problems to worry about. They're not talking about you." I explained that any normal adult who's been through life knows that some folks have a harder time than others – in shidduchim and in everything else. Any normal believing Jew knows that Hashem decides who should get married when, and we do not know and are not supposed to know how He decides these things. So many of the things we worry about, that hold us back and that weigh us down, are simply nonsense. Ideas that our imagination came up with but have no basis in reality. Parashat Maseh begins by listing the 42 places where Beneh Yisrael encamped over the course of their journey from Egypt until their final encampment before crossing into the Land of Israel, a list compiled and recorded by Moshe Rabbenu himself. For the most part, these verses just tell us that Beneh Yisrael journeyed from location X and encamped in location Y. The Torah does not tell us the events they experienced at these locations – not Matan Torah , not the war with Amalek, not the spies. There are, however, a few very unusual exceptions. We are told that in a place called Elim, the people found wellsprings and palm trees. We are told that in Refidim, the people didn't have water. We are told that Aharon Ha'kohen died in Hor Ha'har, at which point the Canaanites were able to attack, because the protective "clouds of glory" which shielded them in Aharon's merit were lost. Why did Moshe choose to mention this small handful of events, while omitting the more major events, such as Matan Torah , the sin of the golden calf, and the sin of the spies? Moshe was showing the people that there were times throughout their travels when they were scared, when they felt vulnerable and insecure, but everything turned out ok. They went into a desert, wondering where they would find water and food – and then they saw that Hashem prepared for them springs and date trees. They later came to a place with no water -and Hashem showed Moshe a rock which he struck, and which then miraculously produced water for the next forty years. When they lost their protective clouds, the Canaanite army attacked, but Hashem helped them and they defeated their enemies. Indeed, Rashi cites the Midrash as comparing Moshe to a father whose son was very ill, and needed treatment far away. On their way back home, the father recalled what happened at every stop along the way – the place where the boy had a fever, where he suffered from extreme pain, and so on. Moshe was showing Beneh Yisrael – and us – that they faced many different challenges over the course of these forty years, but it turned out ok. The situation was not always pleasant, but it always worked out in the end. This is an exercise that we all could – and should – do from time to time: to think about the times when we were very scared, when we were very anxious, when we were very upset, when we were very down, when we were very dejected, and then realize how the situation was somehow resolved. Even if it wasn't resolved exactly the way we would have ideally wanted, we managed. We were ok. When we feel anxious, more often than not, it's because our head exaggerates, turning the problem into something far bigger than it really is, and it imagines things that don't exist. We need to remember that Hashem has always helped us in the past, and He will help us now with whatever it is we're struggling with. Even if things don't turn out the way we want them to, they will turn out ok – because Hashem is in charge. Thu, 09 Jul 2026 00:01:11 GMT Rabbi Joey Haber Rabbi Joey Haber No An 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.com Parasha, Parsha, Sedra, Chumash, Hashkafa, Jewish outlook c2658ccf-3905-f1c0-dd50-2e972cff68ce Parashat Pinhas continues the story that we began reading at the end of the previous parashah , Parashat Balak. After Bilam was unsuccessful in his attempt to place a curse upon Beneh Yisrael , he suggested to the king of Moav a different tactic for destroying them – to send the women of Moav and Midyan to lure Beneh Yisrael to immorality and idol-worship. Tragically, the plan worked. Hashem delivered a plague that killed 24,000 men among Beneh Yisrael who sinned with the women of Moav and Midyan. The plague stopped only when Pinhas – the grandson of Aharon Ha'kohen – stood up and killed two public violators, a man from Beneh Yisrael and a woman from Midyan. At the beginning of our parashah , the Torah names these two people whom Pinhas killed – Zimri, a leader of the tribe of the Shimon; and Kozbi, the daughter of a leader of Midyan. When naming the man who was killed, the Torah says: ושם איש ישראל המוכה אשר הוכה את המדינית – "And the name of the slain man from Yisrael , who was slain together with the Midyanite..." (25:14). The Keli Yakar points out that the Torah here twice mentions that Zimri was killed: איש ישראל המוכה אשר הוכה . This seems unnecessarily repetitive, as though Zimri was killed twice. The explanation might be that Zimri was already "dead" even before Pinhas killed him – because, despite his position of leadership, he went along with the crowd, he followed the tide. Rather than muster the strength to oppose the scandalous behavior – like Pinhas did – Zimri decided to go along with it, to participate, to be "one of the guys." When a person lacks the courage to stand up for his values and principles, if he is just swept away by the current, he surrenders his individuality. He loses his "life" – his uniqueness, his purpose and his mission. How did Pinhas muster this strength and courage? Where did he find the inner resolve and conviction to go against the tide? The answer is found in the way the Torah introduces Pinhas: פינחס בן אלעזר בן אהרון הכהן – "Pinhas, the son of Elazar, the son of Aharon Ha'kohen." Rashi, at the beginning of our parsha , writes that the Torah here is emphasizing Pinhas' distinguished lineage. The people were questioning Pinhas' right to do such an act, since his maternal grandfather was an idol-worshipper. Hashem therefore emphasized that Pinhas was also the grandson of Aharon, the great tzadik . Pinhas felt pride in his family background, in his belonging to a family of righteous people. The rest of the nation was acting one way – but he was too proud in who he was, in what his family stood for, to participate. This pride is what gave him the strength and the courage to resist the tide. Parents need to ensure that their children take pride in their family's "brand," in what their family represents. In order to resist the social pressures that they will, undoubtedly, face, they need this sense of pride to anchor them in place, to help them set firm, inviolable boundaries, to know that there are things they don't do, places they don't go, and activities they don't get involved in. And parents engender this pride by making it clear what their "brand" is, what their family is about, what they stand for, and what values they hold dear. Thu, 02 Jul 2026 00:01:11 GMT Rabbi Joey Haber Rabbi Joey Haber No An 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.com Parasha, Parsha, Sedra, Chumash, Hashkafa, Jewish outlook e38787c9-7a3a-23df-7d50-37a467895814 A community businessman once told me his fascinating story. His business was very successful, at one point supplying more goods to Target than any other company. At that time, 70 percent of his business came from Target. Then, one day, out of the blue, another company that supplied to Target decided that they would continue selling to Target only if Target purchased other goods from them, too. Target had no choice but to purchase for them. And thus one morning, this fellow received a phone call that 70 percent of his business was gone. That day, his father, who would come to his office from time to time, was there. His father noticed that he was upset. The son explained to him that the business could not possibly survive this. "Let me ask you just one question," the father said. "Is this problem bigger than Hashem?" The man told me that this simple question changed his entire attitude. He realized that his father was right. This problem, like every other problem, was not too difficult for Hashem to solve. Within a few short years, this fellow said, the business was doing far better than it did when Target was buying from them. Indeed, no problem is bigger than Hashem. With this story in mind, let us turn our attention to the story of Moshe hitting the rock. After Moshe's sister, Miriam, passed away, the miraculous well which accompanied Beneh Yisrael and provided water in her merit, stopped flowing. The people complained to Moshe, and Hashem commanded him to assemble the people and bring water from the well by speaking to it. As everyone knows, Moshe struck the stone instead of speaking to it, for which he was punished. Among the many difficulties with this story is the fact that when Hashem commanded Moshe to assemble the people, He told Moshe to take his staff. Even though Moshe was to speak to the rock, and not hit the rock, he was told to bring his stick. Why? The Hatam Sofer explained that Hashem was presenting to Moshe two options. The first option was to recognize that the water was already in the rock – just as it had been for forty years until Miriam's passing, to realize that Hashem was ready and prepared to provide everything the people needed, and Moshe had to just say the word. The other option was to feel the need to scrape and claw, to work hard to extract water. The contemporary parallel between these two options are the different perspectives people have towards parnasah (livelihood). Some people, like the businessman described earlier, recognize that the water is already there, that Hashem has the berachah ready for us, He is taking care of us, He has an infinite number of ways to provide us with our needs. Others, however, live in a constant state of anxiety about the "water," wondering where it's going to come from. They feel the need to "strike the rock," to fret and to work extra hard to obtain more and more money. Moshe's mistake, according to the Hatam Sofer , was assuming that the people were not ready for the first option. He decided – incorrectly – that the people needed to see the rock being struck, because they did not have sufficient faith in Hashem. So many young men in our community – and throughout the Orthodox Jewish world – are very nervous about how they are going to support a family. I speak to so many boys preparing to get married, and they express their concerns about affording Orthodox Jewish life. I tell them that in order to get married they need to ensure to have enough income for the present, and the potential to grow. They don't need to have enough money for tuition and a house right away. They need enough for the immediate future, and the potential for growth – and then they can trust in Hashem for the rest. We can spare ourselves a lot of unnecessary anxiety by remember that the water is always there, Hashem is ready to provide us with what we need. Yes, we are going to encounter difficult times, like Beneh Yisrael did, when the "well dries," when we lose the big account or big customer, when the future is uncertain. And when this happens, we need to remember that no problem is bigger than Hashem, that He can and will take care of us in the future just as He did until now. With this mindset, we can live joyfully and contentedly, without the worry and aggravation that weighs so many people down. Hashem provided us with the "water" needed until now – and He will continue doing so in the future, as well. Thu, 25 Jun 2026 00:01:11 GMT Rabbi Joey Haber Rabbi Joey Haber No An 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.com Parasha, Parsha, Sedra, Chumash, Hashkafa, Jewish outlook 387bdc41-fb01-b247-054e-9061d773df47 The Gemara (Sanhedrin 93a) tells the story of two false Jewish prophets who lived during the time of the Babylonian King Nevuchadnetzar. The king accused them of prophesying falsely, and decreed that they should be thrown into a furnace. He said that if they were real prophets, then they would miraculously survive, just as three righteous Jews – Hananya, Mishael and Azarya – had previously emerged unscathed from the furnace. The two prophets argued that the merit of three righteous men exceeds that of just two, and so this trial was unfair. Nevuchadnetzar allowed them to choose a third person with whom to be cast into the furnace, and they selected the tzadik Yehoshua Kohen Gadol, hoping that his merit would protect them. The three was thrown into the furnace – and Yehoshua miraculously survived, while the two prophets perished. However, Yehoshua's garment was burned by the fire. Yehoshua was asked why his clothes were burned, whereas Avraham Avinu, when he was thrown into a furnace many centuries earlier, emerged completely unscathed, without even his garments being ruined. Yehoshua answered that since he was in the furnace together with two wicked people, the fire was given permission to consume, and so his garments were burned. Avraham, by contrast, was thrown into the furnace alone, and so the fire was not granted the power to consume anything. This story is teaching us a sobering but important truth: when we are in bad company, we get "burned" to some extent. Even if we succeed in "surviving," in maintaining our beliefs and values, we are likely to be affected. Let us take the example of a person who works with people who routinely use foul, vulgar language. He will, hopefully, "survive," and manage to refrain from speaking the way they do – but he will probably end up using words that he should not use; his standards are likely to be compromised in some way. After Korah and his followers challenged Moshe Rabbenu, launching an audacious uprising against Moshe's authority, Hashem told Moshe and Aharon, הבדלו מתוך העדה הזאת – that they must "separate," or withdraw, from this evil group of people, and Hashem would destroy them (16:21). Later, after Korah and his men were killed, the people continued protesting and arguing, and so Hashem commanded Moshe and Aharon, הרמו מתוך העדה הזאת – to "lift" themselves out of this nation, and He would destroy them. Aharon eventually saved the nation by bringing an incense offering. What's important for our purposes is the distinction between these two terms – הבדלו and הרמו . When possible, we are advised to "separate," to withdraw. Sometimes, there is a small group of people that we don't need to be with, or a small event that we don't need to attend. We need to have the conviction to withdraw, to refuse to go where we shouldn't go, to refuse to be in the company of people who pull us down, who cause us to be "burned" in one way or another. But sometimes withdrawing isn't an option. We all have people and settings that we cannot avoid, that are always going to be part of our lives – such as family members or coworkers. Regarding these, the Torah commands us: הרמו . We need to lift ourselves, to have the courage and confidence to keep ourselves high even when others are trying to pull us down. We do not need to be the product of our surroundings, or even be influenced by our surroundings. We have the capacity to lift ourselves above what is going on around us. The Midrash famously comments that the ארבע מינים – the four species we hold on Sukkot – represent the four different kinds of Jews. The etrog , with its delicious taste and pleasant fragrance, symbolizes the righteous person who both studies Torah and performs good deeds. The aravah , which features neither taste nor scent, symbolizes the Jew with neither Torah nor good deeds to his credit. The hadas branch has a fragrant scent but bears no fruit, while the lulav (palm branch) produces luscious dates but has no aroma – symbolizing those Jews who learn but do not perform mitzvot , or who perform mitzvot but do not learn. We bring the four species together to symbolize unity, the harmonious blending of the many different types of Jews. Significantly, however, while the lulav , aravot and hadasim are bound together, the etrog stands apart. It is held closely with the other three species – but is not tied with them. This shows that to be an " etrog " – to achieve greatness – we sometimes need to stand alone, to withdraw, to rise above. The etrog is held together with the other three species because the righteous person must, on the one hand, stand together with the rest of the people, without snobbery or elitism. However, on the other hand, the etrog remains separate – because one cannot be an " etrog " without occasionally pulling away from those who might keep him down. May Hashem give us the strength we need to withdraw when we need to, and to elevate ourselves when we need to, so we can continue to grow and achieve without anyone or anything ever stopping us. Thu, 18 Jun 2026 00:01:11 GMT Rabbi Joey Haber Rabbi Joey Haber No An 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.com Parasha, Parsha, Sedra, Chumash, Hashkafa, Jewish outlook b8c01151-62e2-930a-5076-290854eb7044 The spies were sent to Eretz Yisrael to find out about the land and then report their findings to the people. And this is exactly what they did. They told the people about the extraordinary quality of the land's produce, how it is a land "flowing with milk and honey." And they also told the people about the nations who lived in the land – about their very large, well-trained militaries, and about the enormous, fortified walls protecting their cities. So why were the spies punished? If they saw that the nations in Eretz Yisrael were too powerful, that they could not be defeated, then why were they wrong for sharing this information? Wasn't this exactly their job? A number of commentators explain that the very purpose of this scouting mission was for the meragelim (spies) to see that it was humanly impossible to conquer Eretz Yisrael , that the inhabitants were too powerful, that Beneh Yisrael could not prevail without Hashem's help. The goal was to enhance the people's bitahon , their trust in Hashem, to reinforce their awareness of their reliance of G-d's assistance. The meragelim were to come back with greater bitahon , not less. They were to come back with greater enthusiasm, with greater positivity, not with negativity and discouragement. The point of this mission was to make the people feel vulnerable – because moments of vulnerability are powerful moments, moments when a person can reinforce his faith and trust in Hashem, and feel closer to Him than ever before. Tragically, the meraglim did just the opposite. This is why Hashem punished the people for their sin – listening to the spies and deciding that they could not enter the land – by spending forty years in the desert. For forty years, they lived in an area where naturally a person is incapable of living. For forty years, they lived under Hashem's miraculous care and protection – to build their bitahon . When we confront a difficult reality, when we feel hopeless, when we feel lost, when our lives or the world seems completely out of control and upside-down – this is a powerful moment of vulnerability. This is a time for us to let go, to reaffirm our belief that Hashem controls the world, that nothing is random, that everything is under His control. We read in Sefer Bereshit (21:14) that after Abraham Abinu sent away Hagar, ותלך ותתע במדבר באר שבע – she got lost in the desert. Rashi explains this pasuk to mean that Hagar worshipped idols. The pasuk does not seem to say anything about idol-worship, but somehow, Rashi understood that this is what it means. The explanation is that when a person feels "lost," this shows a deficiency in his emunah , in his faith in Hashem. If we truly believed that Hashem controls everything, then we will never feel "lost" under any circumstances. No matter how chaotic the world seems, no matter what life throws at us, no matter how uncertain the future appears – we will feel calm and reassured, recognizing that everything is under control. We must try to live with this sense of calmness and serenity. We should not be wasting our time or emotional energy trying to figure out what is going to happen, what the future will bring, how events will unfold. The future is G-d's problem, not our problem. Our responsibility is to do our best in the present, and to leave the rest to Him. Thu, 11 Jun 2026 00:01:11 GMT Rabbi Joey Haber Rabbi Joey Haber No An 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.com Parasha, Parsha, Sedra, Chumash, Hashkafa, Jewish outlook 18a63e61-3abe-b419-2147-5aa424a7d8df King Shlomo teaches us in Mishleh (14:27): יראת ה' מקור חיים לסור ממקשי מות – "Fear of G-d is the source of life; turning one away from the traps of death." I believe that this pasuk , if understood properly, is exceedingly powerful, and conveys one of the most important lessons for young people today who struggle with the temptations of modern life. Whenever a person is faced with temptation, he is being offered two contracts, and he needs to choose one. The first contract says: Enjoy now, and ruin the rest of your life. Most of what tempts young people really is enjoyable and fun. Drugs…alcohol…gambling… In the moment, it makes the person happy. He enjoys it. He feels really good. He's excited. But in the long-term – it ruins his life. Once a person starts, it becomes difficult – and sometimes all but impossible – to stop. As the Gemara says about temptation: משביעו – רעב, מרעיבו – שבע . If one satiates his desire – it becomes hungrier for more; if he starves it – it feels satiated. The more a person indulges, the more he wants and the more he needs. This is what we might call the "contract of death." The terms are: You have a great time now, and in the very near future, but you will then pay for this enjoyment the rest of your life, which will be turned upside-down. The other contract says just the opposite: Struggle now, and then enjoy the happiest, most fulfilling life you can have. Yes, there are struggles. But מרעיבו – שבע . If a person accustoms himself to saying "no," to winning the struggle, to resisting temptation, he will find it so much easier for the rest of his life to live a disciplined, accomplished and fulfilling Torah life, which is, undoubtedly, the best life a person could possibly live. This is what King Shlomo is teaching us. יראת ה' – overpowering temptation with the fear of Hashem – is מקור חיים , the source of a rich, happy and fulfilling life. It is what pulls a person away from מוקשי מוות , from the dangerous pitfalls that can literally ruin his life. In our parashah , Parashat Behaalotecha, we learn more about this struggle and how it works. The Torah tells of how Hashem punished Beneh Yisrael for complaining about the conditions in the desert, for objecting to the manna that He provided for them, demanding more. But if we look carefully, we see that they did more than complain. The Torah says, התאוו תאווה – which literally means, "they desired a desire." They weren't faced with temptation. They decided to bring a desire upon themselves. They imagined to themselves that there must be more out there that they were not enjoying. They wanted to have this temptation, because they felt there were missing out. This is what happens to so many young people today. Nobody comes into the world with a natural desire for drugs, alcohol or gambling. But התאוו תאווה – they feel that there must be something rewarding in these activities, that they need to try it, they need to "get it out of their system." But then the תאווה takes over, and threatens to ruin their life. משביעו - רעב . By bringing the desire upon themselves and then feeding it, they make it stronger, resulting in a vicious and catastrophic cycle. When faced with these struggles, one needs to remember the two contracts. There is no third option. By overcoming these challenges, one accesses the מקור חיים – the source to a truly rewarding and beautiful life. This does not mean everything will be easy. No person's life is without difficulty. But if one avoids the מוקשי מוות , the pitfalls that threaten to destroy life, he finds his way to happiness and fulfillment, to the unparalleled joy of following Hashem's will and living a life of meaning and purpose. Thu, 04 Jun 2026 00:01:11 GMT Rabbi Joey Haber Rabbi Joey Haber No An 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.com Parasha, Parsha, Sedra, Chumash, Hashkafa, Jewish outlook 7a7843e6-4fa4-ffa6-9c5f-6d066a7758b8 A certain young man whom I was very close with, and whom I helped a great deal, was getting married. Before the wedding he asked me if I could be an עד קידושין , one of the two witnesses to the kiddushin under the huppah . Now among Ashkenazim, serving as an עד קידושין is considered a great honor, but here in our community, being invited to recite one of the berachot under the huppah is a far greater honor. And I have to say, in all honesty, that I felt hurt by the boy's decision to ask me to be a witness instead of reciting one of the blessings. As mentioned, I was very close with this young man. I helped him grow in his religious observance, and I even helped him in the process of dating and getting engaged. I felt slighted over not having received a berachah . Was I being petty and childish? Was this just my ego going too far? I think that the Gemara teaches us the answer. In Masechet Ketubot, the Gemara discusses the case of a person who was very wealthy, and was accustomed to a comfortable, luxurious lifestyle, until he lost his fortune and became poor. The halachah in this case, surprisingly, is that the people must not only give enough charity to provide him with his basic needs – but also provide him with the comforts and amenities that he was accustomed to. So much so, the Gemara tells, that in the time of Hillel, there was a wealthy man who used to ride in a carriage with someone running ahead of him, and after he fell into hard times, Hillel ruled that he should be provided with a runner. When the people could not find somebody willing to do it, Hillel himself ran in front of this man's carriage. It goes without saying that arrogance and conceit are exceptionally bad qualities from which a person must distance himself from. But there is a huge difference between arrogance and a sense of respect. People need to feel respected. This is a basic human need that we must all acknowledge. There is nothing arrogant or egotistical about wanting to be respected. And in some situations, failing to receive honor hurts. If a person worked very hard to plan an event, for example, and at the event, the speaker acknowledged everyone who volunteered their time except that person, that person will be hurt. This isn't because of arrogance – it's because it's embarrassing. The person feels disrespected. And this is true also of a Rabbi who is very close with the groom. There is a certain expectation of honor – and when that respect is not shown, it feels embarrassing. It hurts. Parashat Naso begins with Hashem commanding Moshe, נשא את ראש בני גרשון גם הם – to count "also" the people of Gershon, the Leviyim who descended from Levi's oldest son, Gershon. In the previous parashah , the family of Kehat – the middle of Levi's three sons – was counted. Kehat was counted first because they were in charge of the most sacred articles in the Mishkan , so they had the more distinguished job. Now, when the time came to count the family of Gershon, Hashem emphasized גם הם – that they, too, must be given honor and respect. As the children of the oldest son, they naturally expected to be treated with honor. And since that honor was not given, and instead the middle son, Kehat, was counted first, Moshe needed to find a way to compensate, to show Gershon honor and distinction so they would not feel embarrassed or disrespected. This is so important for us to realize in our relationships, and in all our interactions with people. People need to feel respected, the way they need oxygen. It's a basic human need. People need to feel respected so they can feel important, that they matter, that their lives are significant and meaningful. This isn't arrogance. It's a basic human need. In every relationship, we need to ensure to make the other person feel respected. We need to realize that their need for respect isn't childish or petty – it's normal. It's human. And we must fill that need. When we speak to people and treat them with respect, we help bring out the best in them. We remind them that they matter, that they have something beautiful and crucial to give to the world – and once they acknowledge that, they will go ahead and make sure to make that beautiful contribution. Thu, 28 May 2026 00:01:11 GMT Rabbi Joey Haber Rabbi Joey Haber No An 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.com Parasha, Parsha, Sedra, Chumash, Hashkafa, Jewish outlook 7e1e9543-9edb-aa92-e0ca-bde496da6cf7 The Gemara in Masechet Sanhedrin (91b) teaches: כל המונע הלכה מפי תלמיד כאילו גוזלו מנחלת אבותיו - "Whoever withholds a halacha from a student, it is as though he steals from his forefathers' estate." Meaning, if a teacher decides not to teach a certain student Torah, having decided that the student is either unworthy or incapable of being taught, then the teacher is guilty of "theft." He is viewed as though he stole from that youngster. To understand the meaning of the Gemara's comment, let us imagine a wealthy person who appoints someone to manage his estate and oversee its distribution after his passing. A few years later, the wealthy fellow passes away, and the appointed administrator of his estate meets with the family. He then decides that a certain child of the deceased is not worthy of a portion of the estate. Does this administrator have the right to deny that son a portion? It goes without saying that he does not. The property belongs to all the children. His role is to manage the estate – not to decide who is in and who is out. The Gemara explains the aforementioned teaching by citing the famous pasuk , תורה ציווה לנו משה, מורשה קהילת יעקב – "Moshe taught us Torah, an inheritance for the congregation of Yaakov" (Devarim 33:4). The Torah is an "inheritance" in the sense that it is given to the entire Jewish People. No teacher has the right to decide that a certain student doesn't deserve a share in Torah, to write off a student and deny him the privilege of a Torah education. The Torah doesn't belong to the teacher; it belongs to the entirety of Am Yisrael , including challenging students. The Gemara then proceeds to state: כל המונע הלכה מפי תלמיד אפילו עוברין שבמעי אמו מקללין אותו - "Whoever withholds a halacha from a student, even the fetuses in their mother's belly curse him." It seems that the Gemara here is imagining the response of an unborn child who sees a teacher decide not to teach students whom he considers incapable of learning. The fetus will begin to fear that maybe he, too, will struggle. Perhaps he will not have the sharpest mind, or will have attention issues, or will suffer from dyslexia or another learning challenge. Does he want to come into a world where only the brightest and most talented kids are given the gift of Torah? Of course not. And so the fetus curses the teacher – because he wants to come into a world where all children are given the opportunity to shine and excel, each in his own way, at his own pace, and on his own level. Rav Dovid Soloveitchik, the famous Rosh Yeshiva of the Brisk Yeshiva in Yerushalayim, was once asked if educators should give greater attention to the elite students, those with the potential to become the outstanding rabbinic leaders of the future. Should educators invest more time and effort in these students, to help ensure they maximize their potential, or should all students be given the same amount of attention? Rav Dovid replied, "Why do you assume that specifically the elite students will become gedolim ?" It was clear to him that educators must invest in all their students equally, because all students have the potential for greatness. A youngster's performance in yeshiva says nothing about who he can or will become as an adult. מורשה קהילת יעקב . The Torah is every Jew's inheritance, and every Jew has the ability to achieve in Torah. And just as we may not give up on any student, we also may never give up on ourselves. No matter what a person's background is, no matter what he has done or hasn't done in the past, no matter his circumstances in the present – the Torah belongs to him. He has a share, and he has the right, and the obligation, to receive his share. A teacher must not deny any student his share in Torah – and a person must not deny himself his share in Torah. Today, more than at any other time, there really is no excuse for not seriously engaging in Torah learning. Modern technology – with all the spiritual challenges it poses – offers every Jew endless opportunities for intensive Torah study. Classes and publications for Jews of all levels are available. And every Jew owes it to himself to avail himself of these opportunities and take his rightful share in Torah. As we celebrate זמן מתן תורתנו , our receiving the Torah at Mount Sinai, let us remember that the Torah was given to each and every one of us – to each and every child, and to each and every adult, and we all have the right and the obligation to experience the unparalleled joy and satisfaction that Torah brings. Thu, 21 May 2026 00:01:11 GMT Rabbi Joey Haber Rabbi Joey Haber No An 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.com Parasha, Parsha, Sedra, Chumash, Hashkafa, Jewish outlook d7db2744-0584-459e-64f7-37639f995449 Rabbi Joey Haber The story is told of a woman who came to a Rabbi seeking advice, explaining that she was in the process of growing in her religious observance, but her husband had been moving in the opposite direction. "Every Friday night," the woman said, with unmistakable pain in her voice, "my husband makes kiddush and then goes to watch television. It is so hard for me to handle." She asked the Rabbi if she should divorce him. "You just said that your husband recites kiddush every Friday night," the Rabbi replied. "Do you know what this means?" The woman was befuddled. She didn't know what to say. "That is such a beautiful thing," the Rabbi explained. "Every week, he pours a cup of wine, lifts it in the air, recites the verses of ויכולו , announcing that Hashem created the world in six days, and he then proclaims the sanctity of Shabbat. This is a precious mitzvah which he performs every week. Sometimes we need to see the flame and ignore the smoke." The woman was stunned. When she returned home, her anxious husband, who knew that she had gone to consult with a Rabbi, asked her what the Rabbi had said. The wife smiled and replied, "The Rabbi said you're a tzaddik ." She explained that the Rabbi emphasized the beauty of the mitzvah of kiddush that he fulfills every Shabbat, and how precious and valuable this mitzvah is. That Friday night, the husband recited kiddush more slowly then in the past, and he then went to watch television. The next Friday night, he stayed at the table for a short while after reciting kiddush before leaving to watch television. The week after that, he remained for the whole meal and only then went to watch. The next Shabbat, he didn't watch television at all. Eventually, he became a fully-committed Torah Jew. The husband went to the Rabbi and asked him about that meeting with his wife. He asked the Rabbi how he knew what to say, and how he knew that he would eventually return to observance. "Simple," the Rabbi said. "I saw what you didn't realize you had." This can be said of all of us. We don't see what we have inside us, the great potential we have, our ability to achieve greatness. And the reason we don't see this is because we're distracted by all the "noise" in our lives, by all the stuff going on, by all the things that society presents to us as important and significance but is really worthless. This "noise" grabs our attention and turns our focus away from who we really are. It draws our focus toward the "smoke" and away from the flame"; toward wasteful, unimportant matters, and away from things that have real value. The Mishnah in Pirkeh Avot (5:21) teaches: בן חמישים לעצה – once a person reaches the age of 50, he is qualified to advise other people. The Hafetz Haim explains that the average lifespan (before the modern era) was around 70 years, and each of the seven decades of life corresponds to one of the seven days of the week. Therefore, once a person reaches the age of 50, he begins his sixth decade – which corresponds to Friday, Erev Shabbat. This is the day when we start transitioning from the mundane workweek to the kedushah of Shabbat. Similarly, once a person reaches the age of 50 or so, he has a clearer sense of priorities, of what's important and what's not important. His life experience has given him a clearer perspective and greater clarity to distinguish between vanity and matters of significance. And so such a person is worth consulting and receiving advice from – because he has a clearer sense of what our priorities should be. The celebration of Shavuot, which we are currently preparing for, serves to remind us what we have and who we are. We spend this day reflecting on the fact that Hashem chose us from all other nations in the world, revealed Himself to us, established a special relationship with us, and gave us His sacred Torah which teaches us how to live a life of meaning. The Torah was given in the quiet desert, away from all the "noise," and the only noise the people heard were the sounds of Hashem's revelation. Matan Torah is about redirecting our focus and attention, about shutting out the noise so we can concentrate on our real selves, on the " kiddush ," the holiness within us, and recommit ourselves to make this our highest priority and our life's mission. Fri, 15 May 2026 00:01:11 GMT Rabbi Joey Haber Rabbi Joey Haber No An 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.com Parasha, Parsha, Sedra, Chumash, Hashkafa, Jewish outlook 4c278995-de8c-1ab3-7721-7d0b40669fa4 The Torah commands us at the end of Parashat Behar, לא תעשו לכם אלילים – not to make idols (26:1). This command might at first seem irrelevant to us, as we live in a time where nobody bows down to statues the way they did in the ancient world. But when we look a bit deeper, I believe this mitzvah is extremely important and presents us with a crucial lesson for our lives. Let's begin with the story of three great men who risked their lives to obey this command. During the time of the Babylonian exile, the emperor Nevuchadnetzar had a large statue built, and he ordered everyone in the kingdom to bow down to this statue. There were three righteous Jews who worked in the king's palace – Hananyah, Mishael and Azaryah – and they refused to bow to the idol, even at the threat of the death. Nevuchadnetzar ordered that they be thrown into a furnace, but they miraculously survived. The Gemara in Masechet Sanhedrin (92b) makes a remarkable comment about this story. From the pesukim in the Book of Daniel that tell this story, the Gemara notes, it appears that Hananyah, Mishael and Azaryah made a point of keeping on their official uniforms when they were being thrown into the furnace. Even during these moments, when it seemed that they were going to be killed, they did not change into simple clothes. They insisted on wearing their official garb. The Gemara learns from this that אפילו בשעת הסכנה לא ישנה אדם את עצמו מן הרבנות שלו – even when a person is in danger, he shouldn't compromise his dignity. He should remain composed and maintain a respectable demeanor even when he's under duress, when his life becomes challenging and even when it is at risk. Hananyah, Mishael and Azaryah were heroes not only for steadfastly remaining loyal to Hashem under the threat of death – but also for doing it with composure and dignity. This aspect of their story perhaps sheds light on the Gemara's comment later (93a) about the aftermath of this miracle. The Gemara states that people ridiculed the other Jews following this incident, telling them, יש לכם אלוק כזה ואתם משתחוים לצלם – "You have a G-d like this, and you're bowing to an idol?!" The people saw not only the great miracle – but also the honor and dignity displayed by Hananyah, Mishael and Azaryah. They turned to the other Jews and asked, "You have a G-d who can elevate you to such great heights – how can you lower yourselves by bowing to idols? This is how great you could become – and you choose to get involved in silly idols, instead?" "Idols" are the antithesis of the stature of greatness embodied by Hananyah, Mishael and Azaryah. They are our model of dignity, of honorability, the respect with which a Jew is supposed to live. The Torah strictly warns us, לא תעשו לכם אלילים – not to compromise our stature by getting involving in silliness, in vanity, in nonsense. One of the "idols" of our time is gossip. We so often find ourselves speaking about other people – about who might be getting engaged, who might be breaking up, who might be expecting a child, who might be buying a new house, who might be switching jobs or opening a new business, who might be getting divorced, and so on. I highly recommend when such conversations start to take a step back and ask the question that the non-Jews asked our ancestors after the miracle of Hananyah, Mishael and Azaryah: יש לכם אלוק כזה ואתם משתחוים לצלם – We have such a G-d, and we're getting involved in such pettiness? We are Hashem's special nation, and this is what interests us? We were given the Torah, the potential for kedushah , for spiritual greatness – and we waste our time talking about other people's personal affairs that have nothing to do with us, and that we know nothing about? Aren't we better than this?? Let us remember the Gemara's timeless teaching: לא ישנה אדם את עצמו מן הרבנות שלו . At all times, let's keep our dignity, our self-respect, our sense of self-worth and self-importance. We matter too much to waste our time on nonsense. Our mission is too significant for us to allow ourselves to bow to "idols," to meaningless things. Let's stay far away from the idols of vanity, from things that don't really matter, that have no value, that we have no reason to concern ourselves with – and instead devote our time, our energy, and our attention to the things that really matter, that have real value, and that really should concern us. Thu, 07 May 2026 00:01:11 GMT Rabbi Joey Haber Rabbi Joey Haber No An 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.com Parasha, Parsha, Sedra, Chumash, Hashkafa, Jewish outlook 05a669b4-df1b-13e7-7b62-c918df71530a The first section of Parashat Emor presents the special laws that apply to the kohanim , the additional restrictions that they need to be observe because of their unique status in the nation. When Hashem tells Moshe to teach these laws to the kohanim , He says, אמור אל הכהנים...ואמרת אליהם – "Speak to the kohanim …and speak to them," indicating that there are two different "speakings." Rashi brings the Midrash's explanation of this repetition: להזהיר גדולים על הקטנים – "To warn the adults with respect to the children." Meaning, Moshe was to teach these laws to the kohanim , and also to instruct the kohanim to teach these laws to their children. The obvious question arises, is this not true about the entire Torah? Isn't there an obligation on all parents to teach their children what the Torah requires of them? Why specifically in the context of the unique laws of the kohanim must Hashem emphasize the parents' responsibility to pass these mitzvot onto their children? The answer, I believe, is very important – for all of us, and not just for the kohanim ... Kohanim have the challenge of explaining to their kids that they cannot do certain things that other people can do. Their children might likely resent having special restrictions that others don't have. And so the Torah needs to emphasize to the kohanim that they must meet this challenge. Hashem says to Moshe, אמור אל הכוהנים בני אהרון – "Speak to the kohanim , the sons of Aharon ." He was telling them to emphasize the great privilege they have to descend from Aharon, the first kohen , to excite them with the awareness that they are special. The kohanim are to speak of their status with pride, depicting it to their children as a badge of honor. This way, the youngsters will not resent the additional restrictions entailed. This idea is very personal for me. Growing up in Deal, my father was a Rabbi and my mother was a teacher. We did not have lots of money for extras like most others in the community. But not only did we not feel that we lacked anything, but to the contrary – we felt a special sense of pride. We felt proud to be a family of Torah, a family of Torah leadership and education, a family of hesed , a family that contributed so much to the community. The gap in materialism between us and others was not a factor at all. We were proud to be a family of Torah and hesed . Sadly, many people spend lots of money that they don't have, or put themselves under a great deal of pressure to afford certain things, because they're worried about their reputation, about how people will talk about them. This is unfortunate – and wrong – for several reasons. One of which is that people who will talk negatively about somebody who hosts simple affairs, who drives a simple car, or who lives in a simple house, will likely talk negatively about him no matter what he does. It is delusional to think that we can make sure everyone thinks highly of us. I know as a Rabbi that I cannot possibly expect to win everyone's respect and admiration. There will always be people who look down on us or who criticize us, for whatever reasons. But additionally, it is a terrible mistake to make material things our source of pride, what we're all about, the thing that our lives revolve around, as our "brand" and "label." Seeking fulfillment and happiness through material things is like eating pretzels when you're thirsty – rather than quenching the thirst, it makes you even thirstier. True joy and contentment are achieved when we live with meaning and purpose, when we fill our lives with things that really matter, that have real value. Of course there is nothing wrong with enjoying material blessings. The problem becomes when we turn materialism into the primary focus of our lives, into our primary goal, into our source of pride and of our sense of accomplishment. This will leave us feeling empty and unfulfilled. True fulfillment comes from making our lives primarily about Torah, spirituality, hesed , contributing to the community, helping people. This is where we should be seeking our feelings of pride and gratification, and our sense of accomplishment. להזהיר הגדולים על הקטנים . Our responsibility to our children is to fill them with pride over our identity as a Torah family, as a hesed family, as an idealistic family, as a family that lives each day the way Hashem expects His special nation to live. Thu, 30 Apr 2026 00:01:11 GMT Rabbi Joey Haber Rabbi Joey Haber No An 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.com Parasha, Parsha, Sedra, Chumash, Hashkafa, Jewish outlook 6ad758d5-a6c6-e321-82ba-8d43e16b3eec Parashat Ahareh-Mot begins with a description of the עבודת יום הכיפורים – the special service performed by the kohen gadol in the Bet Ha'mikdash every Yom Kippur. Whereas in our time, without a Bet Ha'mikdash , the Yom Kippur experience is centered in the shul, in the past it was focused on the Bet Ha''mikdash , where the kohen gadol would offer a special series of sacrifices that would bring atonement for the nation. Surprisingly, though, this series of korbanot (sacrifices) began with a sacrifice that the kohen gadol would offer on behalf of himself and his family, an animal which he was required to purchase with his own money. On this day when the entire nation depended on the kohen gadol , when he represented all Am Yisrael before G-d, and acted on their behalf, he needed to first do something private, to bring a korban for himself and his family. To understand why, let us talk for a moment about celebrities. Many celebrities, despite having more money than they know what to do with, have utterly dysfunctional lives. They get a lot of attention from millions of fans, but they do not have a happy family life. The reason is, very simply, that they are entirely focused on their public lives, without giving much time or thought to their private lives. The fame they enjoy is so intoxicating, and so consuming, that they don't put in the effort needed to build a happy, stable private life. On Yom Kippur, the kohen gadol was the nation's leading public figure. Nobody was more important than him. He was taking center stage. All eyes were on him. Therefore, the Torah commanded him to begin the special service of this day as a private individual, offering a personal korban for himself and his family. He was reminded that his public persona must not overshadow his private identity, that his personal life was no less important than his public life. Indeed, the Torah concludes this section by stating, ויעש כאשר ציווה ה' את משה – that Aharon, the first kohen gadol , faithfully complied with these laws regarding the Yom Kippur service (16:34). Rashi explains: להגיד שבחו של אהרן שלא היה לובשן לגדולתו אלא כמקיים גזירת המלך . To express the praise of Aharon—that he would not wear them for his own grandeur, but rather as one fulfilling the decree of the King. The Torah emphasized that Aharon performed this service with humility, for the sake of serving Hashem and discharging his duties, and not to draw attention to himself and feel distinguished. He kept the public nature of his role in check, and ensured it didn't go to his head and lead him to see himself as more important than everyone else. A famous Mishnah in Pirkeh Avot (4:21) warns of three things that "remove a person from the world" ( מוציאין את האדם מן העולם ), meaning, that can ruin his life. These include קנאה – jealousy – and כבוד – the pursuit of fame and prestige. When a person is too preoccupied with his public image, with the way other people perceive him, with his reputation, this can lead him to neglect his private life, his family, his friends, his self-fulfillment, and his relationship with Hashem. Too many people subject themselves to unnecessary financial stress because they feel the need to "keep up," to do what other people do, to avoid the "embarrassment" of lower material standards. Luxuries turn into necessities for one reason and one reason only – because the neighbors have them. People end up doing things they know are wrong, that they know are harmful, or that they know makes their lives worse, because they are so concerned about their public image, about how they are seen by other people. We need to remember that reputation means very little if we are not living the lives that we are happy with, that we feel comfortable with, that we know is right for us. Even the kohen gadol , at his most public moment, was warned not to neglect his private life – to teach him, and to teach all of us, that what matters most is not what the public thinks about us, but what we think about ourselves, what those closest to us think about us, and, of course, what Hashem thinks about us. Thu, 23 Apr 2026 00:01:11 GMT Rabbi Joey Haber Rabbi Joey Haber No An 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.com Parasha, Parsha, Sedra, Chumash, Hashkafa, Jewish outlook 7d2942b8-6247-fb3a-b86d-0bcd1aec211f I cannot tell you how many people – youngsters and adults – have told me that they have stopped praying, or have even stopped being observant, because they prayed for something and did not get what they wanted. This is a challenge that everyone faces at some point – and often many times over the course of life – and it has, unfortunately, led many people to give up on tefillah or on mitzvot generally. But this challenge is based on a fundamentally mistaken approach to prayer. People believe that prayer is about getting what we want. When we have some kind of problem, or when there is something that we're lacking, we pray to Hashem so He will solve the problem or give us what we need. But this is not what tefillah is about. The Gemara tells us this explicitly. In a passage that I wish was more famous, the Gemara in Masechet Berachot (55a) teaches: כל המאריך בתפלתו ומעיין בה סוף בא לידי כאב לב – if a person prolongs his tefillah and he "looks into it," then he will suffer heartache. Rashi explains this to mean that if a person prays for a long time with the expectation that his lengthy prayers assure that his wishes will be granted, he is setting himself up for terrible disappointment, because there is never any guarantee that one's tefillot will be answered. The Gemara then makes an even more dramatic statement, listing עיון תפילה – praying with the expectation that one's requests will be granted – among the things that cause Hashem to be especially mindful of a person's sins, making it less likely that his wishes will be granted. Prayer is not about getting what we want, for a very simple reason – we don't really know what we want. We can easily imagine Queen Ester praying fervently day after day in Ahashverosh's palace that she should be sent back home to Mordechai. If Hashem had granted her request, the Jews would not have been saved. A person may pray fervently for a certain job, for a certain shidduch , for some outcome – but in reality that thing he prays for is not the best thing for him. Only Hashem knows what is best for us, and so we have no reason to expect Him to grant us everything we ask for. Prayer, then, is not about changing Hashem's mind – because we don't want Him to change His mind! After all, He knows what we need far better than we ever will. Rather, prayer is about changing us. The experience of prayer, of standing before Hashem with a feeling of humble submission and complete dependency, recognizing our unworthiness and how much we need Him, profoundly impacts us. And this process of growth which tefillah inspires is the reason why we pray. This might be the meaning of the Mishnah in the second chapter of Pirkeh Avot that we learn this week. Rabbi Shimon ben Netanel teaches: הוי זהיר בקריאת שמע ובתפילה, וכשאתה מתפלל, אל תעש תפילתך קבע אלא רחמים ותחנונים לפני המקום ברוך הוא. Be meticulous in the recitation of Shema and prayer; and when you pray, do not make your prayer a fixed, routine obligation, but rather [let it be] mercy and supplication before the Almighty. Rabbi Shimon here perhaps addresses the problem we described – of people losing interest in prayer because their requests have not been granted. He urges us to continue praying every day, regardless of our past disappointments – and to pray not mechanically, by rote, just to discharge our obligation, but with feeling and emotion, because this is precisely the function of tefillah , to arouse our feelings of humility, of submission, of dependency, of faith, and of connection to Hashem. The Mishnah concludes, ואל תהי רשע בפני עצמך – one should not see himself as evil. At first glance, this instruction has nothing to do with the rest of the Mishnah. The explanation might be that if a person prays and does not see the results he wished for, he should not conclude that he is sinful, that Hashem does not care about him, or that Hashem think he's evil and undeserving. This is not true at all. Hashem has very valid reasons for doing what He does, for deciding to grant our wishes or to not grant our wishes. It is not that we are unworthy of His kindness – it's that His kindness is not always manifest the way we expect it to, or the way we think we want it to. Prayer is referred to as עבודה – "work," because it's exactly that – work. It's about working on ourselves, working on our relationship with Hashem. Prayer is not a vending machine, where we say words and then get what we want. It's about investing effort to grow, to draw closer to Hashem, and to reinforce our belief that He – and only He – knows what is best for us. Thu, 16 Apr 2026 00:01:11 GMT Rabbi Joey Haber Rabbi Joey Haber No An 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.com Parasha, Parsha, Sedra, Chumash, Hashkafa, Jewish outlook 6185941e-a8ef-22fc-ecc5-47d49fd9787d The second Mishna in Pirkeh Avot contains one of the most famous teachings in Pirkeh Avot : על שלשה דברים העולם עומד, על התורה ועל העבודה ועל גמילות חסדים . The world stands on three things – on Torah, on service [of Hashem], and on acts of kindness. This Mishnah establishes that the three "pillars," so-to-speak, of the world are Torah learning, serving Hashem through sacrifices and prayer, and kindness toward other people. However, a later Mishnah in this chapter (18) seems to contradict this statement: על שלשה דברים העולם קיים, על הדין ועל האמת ועל השלום . The world exists through three things – judgment, truth, and peace. This later Mishna lists three other things as the "pillars" that uphold the world. Apparently, there is a difference between the three things upon which the world "stands" ( עומד ) and the three things through which the world "exists" ( קיים ). Rabbeinu Yonah explains that the first Mishna is teaching us the purpose of the world, why we are here. The three pursuits that define our purpose as Jews is תורה , עבודה and גמילות חסדים – serious engagement in Torah study, focused service of Hashem, and looking out for other people with kindness, generosity and sensitivity. The later Mishna, on the other hand, is telling us the three things that the world needs to continue existing, that without which, society would become chaotic and life would be impossible. If there is no justice system, and if people are dishonest and are unable to live with each other peacefully, then the world cannot achieve its purpose. But these three do not define the purpose – they are rather the features that the world needs for the purpose to be realized. Rabbenu Yonah here is teaching us of the crucial need to differentiate between the essence of Jewish life, and the secondary features of Jewish life – a lesson which, I feel, is exceedingly relevant in our time. We need to be very careful not to confuse the "frills" with the core-essence; to distinguish between the "steak" and the "sizzle." There are many beautiful practices which have become common features of religious life today, but which must not be mistaken for the essence of religious life. Many people frequently travel to Israel to receive blessings from great Rabbis, and to pray at graves of tzadikim . Many people belong to Tehillim chat groups. Many people receive and watch two-minute inspiration videos. Many people give money to the Rabbi Meir Ba'al Ha'ness charity and recite a special prayer when they can't find something. I am not at all opposed to any of these; to the contrary, I fully support them and I think they are wonderful. But we need to avoid the mistake of thinking that this is what Torah life is about. Torah life is about תורה , עבודה and גמילות חסדים . תורה – spending significant amounts of time immersed in Torah study, challenging ourselves to understand difficult and intricate texts and to enhance our knowledge and understanding of Torah. עבודה – ensuring to recite all the prayers at the right time and in the right way, with concentration and emotion. גמילות חסדים – working on ourselves to be more sensitive, more generous, more compassionate, more forgiving, more respectful and more patient. Often, when people face some kind of problem – such as a health issue, or a challenge with parnasah (livelihood) – their immediate reaction is to receive a blessing for a Rabbi, say some Tehillim, and give some money to charity. And these are all wonderful things to do. However, this should not be the primary response. The primary response is to do something that is both important and difficult , something that is challenging and which makes a significant difference. Spending time engrossed in high-level Torah study. Making a real effort to recite the entire shemonah esreh with concentration three times every day. Being kind and gracious to people whom we do not feel naturally inclined to be kind and gracious to. Deciding to avoid lashon ha'ra and to instead speak positively about other people. Not getting angry even when somebody does or says something that upsets us. Joining Tehillim groups, watching two-minute inspiration videos, and visiting graves are all wonderful – but these are the "sizzle," not the "steak." The "sizzle" is important – we need the excitement and "hype" that these bring to religious life – but they must not be mistaken for religious life itself. Religious life is about working hard to learn Torah, working hard to sincerely serve Hashem, and working hard to be kind to other people. Let's try to stay focused on what really matters, and make a real effort to excel in the areas that Hashem wants us to excel in. Fri, 10 Apr 2026 00:01:11 GMT Rabbi Joey Haber Rabbi Joey Haber No An 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.com Parasha, Parsha, Sedra, Chumash, Hashkafa, Jewish outlook fe0f845d-e654-0bed-3a45-6c2d110d29f6 As we begin telling the story of Yetziat Mitzrayim at the seder , we say: מתחילה עובדי עבודה זרה היו אבותינו, ועתה קרבנו המקום לעבודתו – "Originally, our forefathers were idol-worshippers, but now, the Almighty has drawn us close to His service." In this passage, we reflect upon our nation's humble beginnings, the fact that we descend from people who worshipped idols, and we express our deep gratitude that we now have the great privilege of serving the one, true G-d. However, one of the commentators offered a deeper insight into this passage in the Haggadah . The Haggadah is teaching us that if a person lives his life in a manner of מתחילה , always looking back, then this is a form of עבודה זרה , of foreign worship. So many people fail to grow religiously because they are beset by guilt and shame over things that happened in the past. They can't get over the feeling that their mistakes five, ten, twenty or even thirty years ago define them forever. They can't let go of their regret and embarrassment. Conversely, there are people who feel so proud over great things they did long ago, so they fall into complacency. They decide that their work is done, that they are now exempt, that they no longer need to put in effort, to work hard, to achieve, or to grow in Torah, because they accomplished so much many years ago. These two attitudes are a form of עבודה זרה . This mindset, defining ourselves based on the past, is very foreign to Torah. The Torah teaches us that וע כשיו – an attitude of "now," focusing on the present, and the opportunities that are given to us right now, קרבנו המקום לעבודתו – is what brings us close to Hashem. The way we draw close to Hashem is by staying focused on the present, on the potential we have to achieve right now. We should never feel stuck in the past. What happened ten years ago, or even yesterday, does not mean that I cannot be great today, or that I don't have to be great today. This is one of the reasons why we make a point of recalling our less-than-impressive origins at the seder – to impress upon us this mindset of ועכשיו , that what matters most is not what we did in the past, but how we are choosing to live in the present. Just as Hashem brought our ancestors out of slavery to Pharaoh so they could be His servants, He is likewise prepared to take us out of our "slavery," whatever we feel is holding us back, and help us serve Him better. We aren't stuck and we aren't trapped. We just have to make the decision to be a "today" person, to focus our attention on who we can be today, irrespective of the past. Tue, 31 Mar 2026 00:01:11 GMT Rabbi Joey Haber Rabbi Joey Haber No An 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.com Parasha, Parsha, Sedra, Chumash, Hashkafa, Jewish outlook 65728b4e-a498-2e3e-8524-52923ca35994 The Gemara in Masechet Megillah (6b) discusses the situation of a Jewish leap year, when there are two months of Adar. According to the accepted opinion, in such a year, the holiday of Purim is celebrated during the second Adar. The Gemara explains: מסמך גאולה לגאולה עדיף – we want to juxtapose the "redemption" of Purim with the "redemption" of Pesach. Apparently, there is some connection between the celebration of Purim and the celebration of Pesach. Perhaps we can explain this connection based on a story told elsewhere in the Gemara (Gittin 56) about one of the worst enemies of the Jewish People – the wicked Roman general Titus, who destroyed the second Bet Ha'mikdash . The Gemara relates that sometime after he destroyed the Bet Ha'mikdash , Titus arrived at a certain place and a tiny gnat flew into his nostril, and lodged itself in his brain. It started pecking inside Titus' head, causing him unbearable pain. He was able to temporarily relieve himself of this pain by having a blacksmith bang with his anvil, as the noise disrupted the gnat, making it stop pecking. Soon thereafter, however, the gnat grew accustomed to this noise, and resumed its pecking. For seven years, Titus suffered from the incessant pecking, until he finally died. The Gemara concludes that Titus' head was opened after his passing, and it was discovered that the gnat was the size of a very large bird. This story might seem strange and esoteric – but when we probe a bit deeper, we find that it describes something that each and every one of us suffers from. A little "gnat" enters our brain, and it grows – making us so uncomfortable that we can't function. That "gnat" can be a family member who doesn't treat us the way we think he should. A competitor who is taking away customers. Something our spouse does or doesn't do that drives us crazy. At any time, we have at least one "little bug" in our brain, someone or something that we allow to live there rent-free. Even worse, we allow this "bug" to grow, and to grow, and to grow some more. We turn this annoyance into a far more serious problem than it really is. And, like the overgrown gnat inside Titus' head, it "pecks" and knocks at our brains, preventing us from thinking straight, not to mention from experiencing happiness and contentment. We turn this small problem into a huge problem, one which allows us no rest. There is perhaps no clearer example of this phenomenon than Haman. Haman had all the fame and wealth that anybody could ever dream of. And yet, he turned to his family and said, וכל זה איננו שווה לי – none of his fame and wealth was worth it. None of it made him happy. Why? Because of Mordechai. Because of that one Jewish guy who refused to bow. Mordechai's refusal to bow was a tiny, insignificant "gnat," an annoyance that, rationally, should pale in comparison with all the prestige that Haman enjoyed. But he invited Mordechai to live rent-free in his brain, and he allowed this "bug" to grow and grow. So much so, that Haman could not enjoy anything in his life. He was consumed by resentment toward this one guy. Maybe this explains the connection between Purim and Pesach. Pesach is the holiday of freedom, when we are to focus on the process of extricating ourselves from that which enslaves us. In our time, the most common form of "slavery" is the slavery of obsession, the "bugs" that we allow to take over our brains and control our lives. We enjoy countless blessings that people just a century ago longed for. And yet, so many people today cannot experience happiness, they lack the freedom to feel content and fulfilled, because of the "tyrant" inside their brains, because they are subjugated to some person or some annoyance. As we prepare for Pesach, let us all strive to free ourselves from the "bugs" in our brain. Let us stop allowing the insignificant annoyances to control us. Let us give ourselves the gift of freedom by refusing to turn small problems into big problems, by appreciating and enjoying all the wonderful blessings in our lives without letting them get ruined by the little things that come up along the way. Thu, 26 Mar 2026 00:01:11 GMT Rabbi Joey Haber Rabbi Joey Haber No An 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.com Parasha, Parsha, Sedra, Chumash, Hashkafa, Jewish outlook