Relevant weekly insights by Rabbi Eli Mansour - delivered directly to your computer and/or mobile device http://itorah.com/parasha-insight/search en-us Copyright 2026 iTorah.com Thu, 23 Jul 2026 00:01:11 GMT Thu, 23 Jul 2026 00:01:11 GMT http://blogs.law.harvard.edu/tech/rss itorahwebsite@gmail.com Rabbi Eli Mansour Relevant weekly insights by Rabbi Eli Mansour Insights into the weekly parasha or upcoming holiday by Rabbi Eli Mansour episodic Torah Learning Resources. itorahwebsite@gmail.com No 2a2662e0-d43d-788f-39ab-a99ff49719a4 The Torah in Parashat Va'et'hanan (4:2) introduces the prohibitions known as "Bal Tosif" and "Bal Tigra" – adding to, or diminishing from, the Torah. Rashi explains that this refers to the way we observe the Misvot. If a person adds a fifth piece of parchment to the four pieces of parchment in the Tefillin, or if he adds a fifth species to the Arba Minim on Sukkot, then he violates "Bal Tosif," whereas if he uses only three pieces of parchment in the Tefillin, or only three species on Sukkot, he violates "Bal Tigra." The Ramban writes that "Bal Tosif" refers to adding a new law to the Torah, like a new holiday, whereas "Bal Tigra" means doing away with a Misva. Curiously, immediately after Moshe presents these commands, he recalls the tragedy of Ba'al Pe'or – the time when many members of Beneh Yisrael worshipped Pe'or, the deity of the nation of Moab. Moshe reminds the people that everyone who worshipped Pe'or was killed by a plague sent by G-d, whereas those who did not survived. What might be the connection between Ba'al Pe'or and the prohibitions of "Bal Tosif" and "Bal Tigra"? Why did Moshe bring up the tragic event of Ba'al Pe'or in the context of these commands? Rav Chaim Shmuelevitz (1902-1979) answers this question by noting the very unusual way in which Pe'or was worshipped – its followers would defecate on the idol. We must wonder, what kind of religion would come up with such a peculiar mode of worship? And what made Pe'or so appealing that Beneh Yisrael were lured to this type of idolatry? The answer is that to the contrary – Pe'or was the most appealing of all religions, because it championed the complete lack of restraint and boundaries. Defecating on the idol meant the elimination of all rules and limits on behavior, the belief that one can do whatever he pleases whenever he pleases, that anything goes, that even bodily functions – which humanity has always demanded be performed in private – should be performed freely. What made Pe'or so enticing was its rejection of self-discipline and self-restraint, and encouraging its followers to act upon their instincts without holding back. Rav Shmuelevitz explained that Moshe was warning the people about what happens when the Torah's system of laws is viewed as malleable, as subject to the people's approval. If a person feels entitled to modify the Torah, and introduces even a slight change – that small change is like a small hole in a fence. And a fence with a hole is not a fence. While it might not happen immediately, slight modifications to the Torah can lead to "Pe'or," to a point where anything goes, where there are no longer any iron-clad rules. This danger exists in both directions – when adding or detracting from the Torah. There were movements that began with one small "detraction," by taking away one Misva or one time-honored tradition, and this led to eventually abandoning the entire Torah. Conversely, when Rabbis try to "add" to the Torah, introducing stringencies and customs which the people find too burdensome, the people are likely to just give up observance altogether. Moshe therefore warns against both adding and detracting, insisting that we adhere to the Torah's laws without trying to modify it one way or the other. The Ramban, in his comments to this verse, writes that despite the prohibition of "Bal Tosif," the Sages introduced the holidays of Hanukah and Purim because they found allusions to these celebrations in the Torah itself. They were reluctant to approve of these new holidays, but they eventually did so – only because the Torah makes subtle reference to these two occasions. Rav Yosef Salant ( 1885-1981) added that this might explain the unusual features of these holidays. The Megilla reading, the primary Misva on Purim, does not take place on the same day in all places; the first Mishna in Masechet Megilla teaches that there are several different dates on which the Megilla was read in different locations under different circumstances. And the Misva of Hanukah candles, as we know, has three different gradations. The Gemara establishes that the minimum level requires just a single candle each night, the higher level is lighting a candle for each member of the household, and the highest level – which is what we of course do – is to add a candle each night. Although the Sages eventually approved the establishment of these new holidays, they ensured that they would be observed somewhat unusually, that they would not be as straightforward as the holidays established by the Torah, to make it clear that they were not adding onto the Torah. This shows how careful the Rabbis were when it came to introducing new customs or practices. They understood the danger of making even a slight hole in the fence, in giving the impression that the Torah is subject to modification. We must remain steadfastly loyal to the Torah and to our traditions, and never think that we know better, that we're smart enough to make up our own rules. Thu, 23 Jul 2026 00:01:11 GMT Rabbi Eli Mansour Rabbi Eli Mansour No Insights into the Weekly Parasha - Brought to you by itorah.com Insights into the Weekly Parasha - Brought to you by itorah.com Parasha, Parsha, Sedra, Chumash 39536539-eb4f-a9df-4ab0-22f1113949b2 A number of books draw an intriguing – though puzzling – parallel between two periods on the Jewish calendar: the period of Ben He'mesarim (the Three Weeks from Shiba Asar Be'Tammuz through Tisha B'Ab) and the period of the holidays in the month of Tishri. The month of Tishri begins with Rosh Hashanah, and the holiday season concludes with the celebration of Shemini Aseret on the 22nd of Tishri. (In the Diaspora, we observe Shemini Aseret as a two-day celebration, referring to the second day as Simhat Torah, but fundamentally, this is just one day, on the 22nd of Tishri, and this is how it is celebrated in Israel.) According to a number of Rabbis, these two 22-day periods parallel one another, and are linked to one another. This parallelism leads us to an astonishing conclusion – that the final days of these two periods, Tisha B'Ab and Simhat Torah, are connected. This conclusion is astonishing because, quite simply, it would have been hard to come up with any two days on the Jewish calendar that are more different from one another. In fact, these days are polar opposites – and not only because one day is spent fasting, sitting on the floor and mourning, while the other is spent dancing, singing and feasting. Simhat Torah marks the day when the first Bet Ha'mikdash was inaugurated. King Shlomo conducted a two-week celebration in honor of the Temple's inauguration, which culminated on the 22nd day of Tishri. And, for this reason, the Zohar teaches that Shlomo is considered the "Ushpizin" for Shemini Aseret, which is, in a sense, the eighth day of Sukkot. It thus emerges that the day when the Bet Ha'mikdash's inauguration was completed is, remarkably, linked to Tisha B'Ab, the day when the Bet Ha'mikdash was destroyed. If Shemini Aseret is associated with Shlomo Ha'melech, then Tisha B'Ab is associated with Yirmiyahu – the prophet who warned of the destruction of the Bet Ha'mikdash. Shlomo Ha'melech enjoyed a life of wealth, prestige, peace, comfort and serenity, and he composed Shir Ha'shirim – a joyful, heartwarming book about the intense love between Hashem and the Jewish People. Yirmiyahu suffered misery throughout his life, being constantly taunted and at one point even imprisoned, and then personally witnessed the destruction of Jerusalem and was driven into exile. The book he wrote – Echa, which we read while sitting on the floor on Tisha B'Ab – laments the rupture of the bond between G-d and His people, and the unspeakable calamities that befell our nation at the time of Jerusalem's destruction – the polar opposite of Shir Ha'shirim. Interestingly enough, the Arizal – based on a number of earlier sources – teaches that King Shlomo's soul returned in Yirmiyahu, further underscoring the connection between Simhat Torah – the day associated with King Shlomo – and Tisha B'Ab – the day associated with Yirmiyahu. These two figures shared the same soul, and thus the days that embody their lives' respective missions are closely linked. These two days are linked because Simhat Torah is the day when we celebrate the precious gift of the Torah – and it is through Torah that we become worthy of redemption. The Or Ha'haim (Rav Haim Ben-Attar, 1696-1743) writes that Mashiah does not wish to redeem a nation of ignoramuses. It is only when we recommit ourselves to Torah learning and put in the time and effort to learn that we earn our long-awaited final redemption. Tisha B'Ab is associated with Simhat Torah because it is through the joy of Torah learning, embodied by the festive celebration of Simhat Torah, that we end the exile which we mourn on Tisha B'Ab. In our community – and in many others, as well – we are witnessing a truly extraordinary phenomenon, one which clearly shows that we are well on our way to making the transition from Tisha B'Ab to Simhat Torah, from mourning the destruction of the Bet Ha'mikdash to celebrating the restoration of the Bet Ha'mikdash. My father recalled to me how in his time, people spent Tisha B'Ab afternoon at the beach. Now, as everyone knows, Tisha B'Ab is likely the greatest day of Torah learning in the entire year. Synagogues are packed with men and women of all ages hearing Torah classes for many hours throughout the day, and some even the entire day. Ironically, in our time, Tisha B'Ab has turned into a "Simhat Torah." Of course, it is still a day of mourning and grieving. But nevertheless, we cannot overlook the drastic change that has occurred, with the entire community – and many other communities – joining together for hours upon hours to learn Torah on this day. This phenomenon is representative of the broader transition that has been taking place in recent years. People are devoted to Torah learning like never before. With all the unique spiritual challenges of our generation which I and many other Rabbis speak about regularly, the amount of Torah being learned on a daily basis in our time is breathtaking. This is a clear sign that we are, gradually, transitioning from Tisha B'Ab to Simhat Torah, from a state of Hurban (destruction) to a state of redemption. May Hashem help us continue this transition, to continue devoting ourselves to Torah learning and inspiring others to do the same, so we may be worthy of Mashiah's arrival and the rebuilding of the Bet Ha'mikdash, when we will experience an everlasting Simhat Torah, amen. Thu, 16 Jul 2026 00:01:11 GMT Rabbi Eli Mansour Rabbi Eli Mansour No Insights into the Weekly Parasha - Brought to you by itorah.com Insights into the Weekly Parasha - Brought to you by itorah.com Parasha, Parsha, Sedra, Chumash 579345d3-1b4d-4c06-36e8-bfd6a478b7a5 Rabbi Akiba's Tears Parashat Matot begins with a number of laws regarding vows, including the authority given to a husband to annul certain vows taken by his wife. The Torah states that in such a case, when a wife takes a vow and the husband declares its annulment, "V'Hashem Yislah Lah" – G-d will forgive the woman (30:13). The Sages understood this verse as referring to a situation where the wife did not know that her husband annulled the vow, and nevertheless proceeded to violate it. For example, the wife declared herself a Nezira, committing to abstain from wine, and she later decided to drink wine despite her vow. As it turned out, she committed no transgression by drinking wine, because her husband annulled her vow of Nezirut. Nevertheless, she requires G-d's forgiveness since she intended to violate the vow. The Gemara (Kiddushin 81b) tells that Rabbi Akiba would weep each time he read this verse. He was overcome by emotion upon seeing that even a person who did not commit a sin requires atonement if he intended to commit a sin. If even such an act – which was actually permissible – requires atonement, then how much more so is a person held accountable when he commits an act that is truly forbidden. A deep explanation for Rabbi Akiva's tears emerges from the teachings of Rav Shimshon of Ostropoli (1600-1648). Ashkenazic communities have the custom of including in the Kinnot on Tisha B'Ab a lament for the Asara Harugeh Malchut – the ten great sages who were murdered by the Romans. The Roman emperor learned the law in the Torah that kidnapping a person and then selling him as a slave is a capital offense, punishable by death. He thus decreed that ten great sages must be murdered to atone for the sin of Mechirat Yosef – when Yosef's brothers committed this exact crime, selling their brother as a slave. Since this crime was committed by Yosef's ten brothers, ten sages were brutally murdered to atone for this misdeed. In truth, only nine of Yosef's brothers participated in his sale as a slave. Binyamin, the youngest, was home and thus not present at the time of the sale, and Reuben tried to rescue Yosef. Thus, this crime was committed by only nine brothers. Rav Shimshon of Ostropoli cites the Arizal as teaching that the Almighty Himself, as it were, was the tenth participant. He decreed that this should happen, and He thus "completed the Minyan," so-to-speak, joining Yosef's brothers in selling him as a slave to Egypt. Now the Kabbalists have identified the specific correspondence between the Asara Harugeh Malchut and the brothers who sold Yosef – meaning, which of the ten great sages corresponds to which of Yosef's brothers. For example, one of these sages was Rabbi Huspit Ha'meturgeman – a great Rabbi who was blessed with a loud, clear voice, and thus worked as the "broadcaster" who would help the Rabbis deliver their lectures. He corresponds to Naftali, who is described as "Ha'noten Imreh Shafer" (49:21) – the speaker of beautiful words. Rav Shimshon of Ostropoli taught that Rabbi Akiba, who was among the ten sages murdered by the Romans, corresponded to G-d, the tenth "participant" in Mechirat Yosef. This is because Rabbi Akiba taught that the Torah's command to fear Hashem extends also to Torah scholars – meaning, just as one is obligated to fear Hashem, so must one show reverence to the sages. As Rabbi Akiba equated, in a sense, Torah scholars with the Almighty, he was chosen to "represent" G-d as one of the Asara Harugeh Malchut. We can now return to Rabbi Akiba's weeping upon reading the verse in Parashat Matot, "V'Hashem Yislah Lah." Rabbi Akiba knew that he represented G-d as the tenth participant in Mechirat Yosef. However, he felt comforted by Yosef's own words many years later, when he explained to his brothers that he felt no resentment toward them for what they did: "Ve'atam Hashabtem Alai Ra'a, Elokim Hashabah Le'Toba" – "You plotted evil against me, but G-d plotted for the good" (50:20). Although the brothers intended to inflict harm, their actions actually brought great blessing and good fortune, as Yosef ended up saving Egypt and the entire ancient world by predicting the seven years of famine and ordering the storage of grain during the preceding years of surplus. Rabbi Akiba thus figured that he – as a representative of Yosef's brothers – would not be held accountable for the sin of Mechirat Yosef, because it in truth turned out to be a blessing, and not a sin. However, when Rabbi Akiva read the verse "V'Hashem Yislah Lah," he wept. He then realized that even if a person's actions ended up being permissible, nevertheless, he requires atonement if he had intended to act wrongly. Rabbi Akiba thus understood that the time would come when an accounting would be made for the sin of Mechirat Yosef. As we approach the observance of Tisha B'Ab, let us all work together to rectify the sin of Mechirat Yosef by striving to be kinder, more compassionate and more forgiving. If Yosef's brothers brought calamity upon future generations through their efforts to harm Yosef, let us correct this mistake by redoubling our efforts to help and bring joy to all our brothers and sisters, even those with whom we have disagreements, and we will then be worthy of our final redemption, Amen. Thu, 09 Jul 2026 00:01:11 GMT Rabbi Eli Mansour Rabbi Eli Mansour No Insights into the Weekly Parasha - Brought to you by itorah.com Insights into the Weekly Parasha - Brought to you by itorah.com Parasha, Parsha, Sedra, Chumash a33397b0-bf36-c7f2-09b1-9e8cb1b72eda We read in Parashat Pinhas of the census taken of Beneh Yisrael at the end of their forty-year sojourn in the wilderness. The Torah lists the families of the various tribes, and in listing the families of Reuben, the Torah explains that two families – those of the brothers Datan and Abiram – were not counted, because they perished after joining Korah's revolt against Moshe Rabbenu. In this context, the Torah mentions that "U'bneh Korah Lo Metu" – Korah's sons did not die together with their father and the other rebels. Rashi, citing the Gemara (Megilla 14a), explains that Korah's sons initially participated in the uprising, but they then had thoughts of Teshuba (repentance), on account of which "Nitbaser Lahem Makom Gabo'ah Be'gehinom Ve'yashebu Sham" – " An elevated place in Gehinam was set apart for them, and they remained there." Rashi's concluding remarks – "and they remained there" – suggest that Korah's sons stayed in that "elevated place in Gehinam" for all time, and this is, indeed, the view taken by several later commentators. This is also the implication of the Midrash cited by Tosafot in Masechet Kiddushin (31b). The conventional understanding, however, is that Korah's sons remained in the underworld for a period of time and were ultimately rescued, whereupon they rejoined Beneh Yisrael. (This is perhaps evidenced by the fact that Korah's sons had descendants who sang in the Bet Ha'mikdash.) Regardless, the Lubavitcher Rebbe (Rav Menachem Mendel Schneersohn, 1902-1994) draws our attention to an important – but often overlooked – word in this passage in Rashi's commentary. Rashi did not say simply that Korah's sons participated in their father's uprising against Moshe. Rather, he writes that Korah's sons were part of this undertaking "Tehila" – right at the outset. They were among the initiators. They didn't just "go along" with the idea – they were the ones who conceived it! The Rebbe further notes Rashi's comment that during the revolt, "Hirharu Teshuba Be'libam" – Korah's sons had thoughts of repentance in their hearts. It seems clear from Rashi's formulation that Korah's sons did not repent entirely – they merely entertained thoughts of Teshuba. And yet, despite the fact that they were the instigators of this evil uprising, even their thoughts of Teshuba sufficed to save them from death. The Rebbe added that this shows us the great power of even incomplete repentance, and of even "Hirhureh Teshuba" – genuine thoughts and feelings of repentance. Even when a Jew does not change his behavior fully the way he should, but he merely thinks and reflects on how he needs to improve – these thoughts are precious and beloved by G-d. The Rebbe explained on this basis why, at one of the holiest moments of the year, as we prepare to sound the Shofar on Rosh Hashanah, we read the 47 th chapter of Tehillim, which was composed by Korah's sons – "La'menase'ah Li'bneh Korah Mizmor." Unlike Yom Kippur, Rosh Hashanah is not a time for confessing and begging G-d for forgiveness. However, during the sounding of the Shofar, we are to think "Hirhureh Teshuba," thoughts of repentance. This is a time to think seriously and somberly about our mistakes and shortcomings during the previous year, and how we wish to improve during the coming year. We therefore recite this chapter composed by Korah's sons – who devised a wicked plot to challenge Moshe Rabbenu, and yet were spared punishment because of their "Hihureh Teshuba." We are reminded of the great power of Teshuba thoughts, of the value of our genuine feelings of regret and desire to improve. Back in Parashat Korah, we read that when the ground opened to devour the leaders of the revolt and their families, the rest of the nation "Nasu Le'kolam" (16:34) – literally, "ran to their voices." This seems to mean that the people ran toward the opening in the ground where the rebels were screaming in horror, which would be very difficult to understand. Rashi avoids this problem by interpreting these words to mean that the people ran "on account of their voices," because of the shrieks that they heard. In light of what we have seen, however, there might be another understanding. After Korah's sons were saved, Beneh Yisrael ran to hear their voices, to hear them sing praise to Hashem, in order to receive inspiration from them. Korah's sons became a powerful source of motivation for all Beneh Yisrael – and for us – by showing the value of even incomplete Teshuba, how every step forward is significant and cherished by the Almighty. Indeed, Rav Moshe Wolfson (1925-2024) noted that the letters that spell the word "Le'kolam" (Lamed, Kof, Lamed, Mem) are the first letters of the words "La'menase'ah Li'bneh Korah Mizmor." Beneh Yisrael rushed to hear the beautiful praises sung by Korah's sons to be inspired and driven to work toward improvement, one small step at a time. The Rebbe cited in this context the Rambam's famous comment that "En Beneh Yisrael Nig'alin Ela Bi'Tshuba" – the redemption depends upon the Jewish People's repentance (Hilchot Teshuba 7:5). Many people wondered how this will happen. When we look at our nation today, how the majority of Jews are so distant from observance, and how even generally observant Jews face so many religious challenges which they frequently fail to withstand, how can we ever be deserving of redemption? Korah's sons provide us with the answer. They show us that even incomplete Teshuba is valuable, as long as it is sincere. Every genuine thought, feeling and action in the direction of Teshuba, every time a Jew reflects on his inadequacies and regrets his deficiencies, he has achieved something precious. Every small step toward repentance will, hopefully, lead to another, such that we can, indeed, become worthy of our final redemption, speedily and in our time, Amen. Thu, 02 Jul 2026 00:01:11 GMT Rabbi Eli Mansour Rabbi Eli Mansour No Insights into the Weekly Parasha - Brought to you by itorah.com Insights into the Weekly Parasha - Brought to you by itorah.com Parasha, Parsha, Sedra, Chumash d63bd27b-9e30-4220-4212-96a76e1e8a92 We are all familiar with the story of Moshe hitting the rock, an act for which he was punished. Less familiar, however, are the circumstances that led to Moshe's decision to strike the rock, after he was commanded to produce water by speaking to it. The background to the story is the death of Moshe's sister, the righteous prophetess Miriam, in whose merit a miraculous well provided water for Beneh Yisrael throughout the previous forty years of travel in the wilderness. This well accompanied the people, and water supernaturally flowed from it, ensuring an adequate supply of fresh water. When Miriam passed away in the final year of Beneh Yisrael's sojourn in the desert, the well dried, leaving Beneh Yisrael without water. In response to their complaints, G-d instructed Moshe to assemble the people around the rock – the rock of Miriam, which had stopped providing water – and tell it to once again produce water. Rashi (20:10) explains that after Moshe assembled the people, they argued with him, asking why he needed to produce water specifically from this rock. Surely, Hashem was capable of providing water from a different rock. They pointed to another rock, whereupon Moshe and Aharon exclaimed, "Can we extract water from this rock?!" Moshe then struck it several times, and, sure enough, water began to flow. Why did the people challenge Moshe to produce water from a different rock? Why were they not content with having Miriam's well resume its production of water? The answer is that the people thought that extracting water from a different rock would create a greater Kiddush Hashem (glorification of G-d's Name). After forty years, water flowing from Miriam's rock was no longer considered special or miraculous. Certainly, they figured, G-d's glory would be manifested much more dramatically if water was produced from a different rock. The people's motivations, then, were sincere, but they were still wrong – for the simple reason that G-d had commanded Moshe to produce water from this particular stone. Why He chose specifically this rock was not for them – or for us – to understand. They were to faithfully and humbly abide by His commands even when they did not grasp their logic, and even when different options seemed more rational. This perhaps explains the connection between this story and the preceding section in the Torah – the law of the Para Aduma ("red heifer"). This command is commonly regarded as the quintessential "Hok" – Misva whose rationale eludes our comprehension. There is no logical explanation for why slaughtering a perfectly red cow, and then burning its ashes, mixing it with water, and sprinkling the mixture on people who had become impure, should have any meaning or significance. But the Torah commands that we prepare this mixture, and that people who had come in contact with a corpse have this water sprinkled on them before they enter the Bet Ha'mikdash or eat the meat of sacrifices. This Misva, more than any other, exemplifies the notion of faithful subordination to the divine will, of obedience to Hashem's commands against our logical understanding. For good reason, then, the Torah juxtaposed the Misva of Para Aduma and the story of Moshe and the rock – because both underscore the message of surrendering our logic and reason to the will of Hashem. The lesson of this Parasha is that we must not try to be "too smart." The Torah promises that observing Shabbat brings material prosperity – even though logic dictates that working an extra day every week increases profits. We must not try to "outsmart" the Torah by thinking that keeping the business open on Shabbat will lead to greater earnings. Some mothers encourage their marriage-age daughters to stop following the requirements of modest dress to increase their chances of finding a husband. They figure that since marriage is a Misva, the right thing to do is to dress this way so they can fulfill this Misva. But this is incorrect. When G-d tells us to do something or not to do something, we need to obey even if we can come up with logical reasons not to. The intellect is a precious gift that Hashem granted us for the purpose of learning, building and achieving. At the same time, however, He demands that we suspend our logic when necessary to show our humble subservience to Him and to His will. Thu, 25 Jun 2026 00:01:11 GMT Rabbi Eli Mansour Rabbi Eli Mansour No Insights into the Weekly Parasha - Brought to you by itorah.com Insights into the Weekly Parasha - Brought to you by itorah.com Parasha, Parsha, Sedra, Chumash 78ca2381-a79f-b618-6b95-3511d9c0e560 Two of the important figures in Korah's brazen uprising against Moshe were two brothers named Datan and Abiram. Interestingly, we are not told what it is that they were fighting for. Korah himself, as Rashi brings, resented the fact that his cousin was chosen over him for a prestigious leadership role (head of one of the three families of Leviyim). The 250 men who joined Korah vied for the privilege of serving as Kohanim in the Mishkan. Datan and Abiram, however, simply ridiculed Moshe. In the message they delivered to him, they accused Moshe of taking them out of Egypt – which they described as "a long flowing with milk and honey" – to die in the wilderness. But they did not say what it is that they want from him. These men had a long history with Moshe. The Sages teach us that they were the men who disobeyed Moshe's instructions regarding the manna – leaving manna over to the next morning, and going out to collect on Shabbat – and they were the ones who advocated for returning to Egypt after hearing the spies' frightening report about the nations in Eretz Yisrael. In truth, their history with Moshe goes back even earlier – to the period of bondage in Egypt. The Midrash teaches that when Moshe saw an Egyptian taskmaster beating a member of Beneh Yisrael – that was Datan. And the next day, when Moshe saw two members of Beneh Yisrael fighting – those were Datan and Abiram. Moshe saved Datan's life when he was being beaten by the Egyptian, and he then saved Abiram when he was being beaten by Datan. Yet, instead of expressing gratitude to Moshe, they betrayed him, reporting him to Pharaoh. One of the commentaries explains why they harbored such ill-will toward Moshe. The Midrash relates that the Egyptian who was beating Datan had a relationship with Datan's wife. Moshe knew of this through Ru'ah Ha'kodesh (prophetic insight). Datan and Abiram did not want this information spread, and so they first tried having Moshe killed, by reporting him to Pharaoh. When Moshe returned to Egypt many years later as the nation's leader, Datan and Abiram repeatedly disobeyed Moshe and rejected his authority, so that if he ever mentioned anything about their secret, it would not be taken seriously. This is why they seized every opportunity to oppose and ridicule Moshe – and this is why they joined Korah's uprising. Remarkably, however, even after Datan and Abiram joined Korah in his uprising against Moshe's authority, Moshe still did not give up. The Torah tells (16:12) that Moshe sent them a message, inviting them for a meeting. According to some commentators, Moshe delivered this message because he still believed that they could repent. Even after all Datan and Abiram had done wrong, despite their pattern of defiance and contempt for him – Moshe still held out hope, he still believed in their capacity for goodness. The reason, as some have explained, is that Moshe never forgot the good that Datan and Abiram once did. Back in Egypt, Datan and Abiram served as Shoterim – foremen appointed by the Egyptian taskmasters to oversee the work done by the Israelite slaves. If the slaves did not complete their quota of work, then the Shoterim would be beaten. Datan and Abiram, as sinful as they were, took the beatings rather than deal harshly with their fellow Jews. They allowed themselves to suffer the consequences of the slaves' failure to complete their quota of work. Moshe did not allow Datan and Abiram's repeated misdeeds and even personal attacks to overshadow the good that they did. He recognized their capacity for goodness – even after they challenged and defied him several times. It was only here in Parashat Korah, when they rejected his "olive branch," when they refused to even speak with him, that he despaired. This is a crucial message for parents and educators. Too often, parents and teachers see the child's misbehavior and failures, but not the child's achievements and successes. This is a mistake. While certainly standards must be enforced, it is imperative that children know that all the good they do is recognized, appreciated and respected. In today's day and age, especially, children face unprecedented spiritual challenges. The lures and distractions of today's world make it so difficult for youngsters to do the right thing, to remain religiously committed, and to succeed academically. Every success, every mitzvah , everything that youngsters do right must be enthusiastically celebrated. Whatever mistakes children make do not erase the good that they do. The more encouragement they receive, the more motivated they will be to continue working and struggling to achieve despite the challenges that they face. Thu, 18 Jun 2026 00:01:11 GMT Rabbi Eli Mansour Rabbi Eli Mansour No Insights into the Weekly Parasha - Brought to you by itorah.com Insights into the Weekly Parasha - Brought to you by itorah.com Parasha, Parsha, Sedra, Chumash 895d75ae-f3f3-74f1-6e00-f3765b5df2c4 Parashat Shelah is famous for the story of Het Ha'meragelim – the sin of the spies. Moshe sent twelve men – one representative from each tribe – to survey the Land of Israel and report back to the people, and when the spies returned, they persuaded Beneh Yisrael that they could not conquer the land, for which thy were severely punished. The Torah makes a point of mentioning that before Moshe sent the spies, he renamed one of them – his faithful disciple, Hoshea – changing his name from "Hoshea" to "Yehoshua" ( 13:16). Rashi explains that Moshe gave Yehoshua this new name as a prayer that he would be protected from the sinister plot of the other spies. The name "Yehoshua" can be read as a combination of the words "Y-ah Yoshi'acha" – "G-d shall save you." This was Moshe's prayer that Yehoshua would not be influenced by his peers who would decide to speak negatively about the Land of Israel and sow despair among the nation. We must ask, why did Moshe pray on behalf of only Yehoshua? If he anticipated the likelihood that the spies would betray their mission, and seek to dissuade the people from entering into the land, then why didn't he pray that they should all be protected from this grave mistake? The Lubavitcher Rebbe (Rav Menachem Mendel Schneerson, 1902-1994) answered this question by noting Targum Yonatan Ben Uziel's translation of this verse. Targum Yonatan writes that Moshe changed Yehoshua's name because he noticed "Invatanuteh" – Yehoshua's unique humility. Somehow, Yehoshua's especially humble character necessitated this prayer, that he should be protected from sin as he embarked on this mission. The Rebbe explained that normally, one cannot pray for another's Yir'at Shamayim (fear of Heaven), that the person should do the right thing and avoid wrongdoing. The Sages famously taught us, "Ha'kol Bi'ydeh Shamayim Hutz Mi'yir'at Shamayim" – "Everything is in the hand of Heaven, except the fear of Heaven." We can and should ask Hashem for that which lies beyond our control. Religious observance, however, is our responsibility. We cannot ask Hashem to make somebody religiously committed – because he needs to motivate himself to be committed. But if so, then Moshe's prayer for his disciple is very difficult to understand. How could Moshe pray that Yehoshua do the right thing, if one cannot pray for somebody else to avoid sin? The Rebbe answered that we can pray for somebody's spiritual success if that person is already investing effort to achieve spiritual success. For example, we cannot pray to Hashem to help somebody wake up in time for Shaharit if he goes to sleep late and doesn't bother to set an alarm clock. If, however, a person who has this weakness – often failing to get up on time – makes an effort to improve, such as by going to sleep at a reasonable hour and setting an alarm clock, then it is certainly appropriate to pray that his efforts should succeed. And this is true of all areas of religious life – once a person is making a genuine effort to succeed, then he – and others – can pray that those efforts should bring the desired results. With this in mind, we can return to Yehoshua and the spies. The Rebbe explains that Moshe sent the spies on a fact-finding mission. Their job was to objectively report the information, to tell what they saw, without giving any interpretation or offering an opinion based on that information. It was their job to determine the facts – and it was Moshe's job, and only Moshe's job, to reach decisions based on those facts. The spies' sin was arrogantly usurping Moshe's role. After they reported the facts, they gave their assessment about the prospects of capturing Eretz Yisrael – an assessment which wasn't theirs to make. They decided that their opinion was more important and more authoritative than that of Moshe Rabbenu – and this was their sin. Before Moshe sent the spies, he was well aware of this danger. He knew of the natural tendency that people have to form opinions about things which are for the experts to decide, to assume they know better, to feel overly confident in their perspectives, their ideas and their impressions. But he could pray only for Yehoshua – because he saw that Yehoshua worked on his quality of humility. Upon seeing how Yehoshua made a conscious effort to remain humble, Moshe prayed that these efforts should succeed, that Yehoshua would remain humble and not overstep his bounds. Moshe could not pray for the other spies, because he did not see them working on their Midda (quality) of humility. He therefore prayed only for Yehoshua, his student who worked to live humbly, asking that these efforts should protect him from the arrogant tendency to give opinions that shouldn't be given. Thu, 11 Jun 2026 00:01:11 GMT Rabbi Eli Mansour Rabbi Eli Mansour No Insights into the Weekly Parasha - Brought to you by itorah.com Insights into the Weekly Parasha - Brought to you by itorah.com Parasha, Parsha, Sedra, Chumash 598e15bd-f12f-5bd1-3592-c636d283ab2a The Torah commands in Parashat Beha'alotecha (10:9) that when Beneh Yisrael are compelled to fight a war against an enemy, "Va'hare'otem Ba'hasoserot" – they must sound trumpets. The Rambam, in the beginning of Hilchot Ta'aniyot, understands this verse as a more general command to pray to G-d during times of crisis. The Torah speaks of a war against "Ha'sar Ha'sorer Etchem" ("the enemy who terrorizes you"), and the Rambam interprets the word "Sar" to mean any form of "Sara" – trouble, or crisis. Whenever we face some kind of danger, we are obligated to turn to Hashem in prayer. Nowadays, when we do not have the special "Hasoserot," the Misva to turn to G-d in prayer remains. It must be emphasized that the Rambam here does not merely advise us – or even urge us – to turn to Hashem in times of crisis. Rather, he presents this as an outright obligation, as Misvat Aseh – a Biblical command. The Torah requires us to pray to G-d for help when crisis befalls us. The reason for this obligation is that Hashem brings us crises specifically to draw our minds and hearts toward Him. Over the course of our busy lives, with all the countless responsibilities and pressures that we have, we can very easily forget about G-d. We might not be as mindful as we should be of how He is caring for us at all times, of how He is providing us with all our needs, of our obligations towards Him, and of the importance of cultivating a deep bond with Him. When crisis strikes, we must realize that Hashem is knocking on our doors, so-to-speak, calling for our attention, asking us to devote more attention to Him. The Hebrew word for "world" is "Olam," which is derived from the word "Ne'elam" – "concealed," or "hidden." G-d created the world as a place where His presence is not always apparent, where He remains concealed, where things appear to run randomly according to the laws of nature. Our challenge is to look beyond the "concealment" and to recognize that He is governing all events – both globally and individually, from behind the veil of the natural order. During times of hardship, the Rambam is telling us, our obligation is to look behind the veil, to turn our attention to Hashem. If we focus only on the practical measures that we must take to address the problem, without turning to G-d in heartfelt prayer, then we are missing the point. On the national level, too, when the Jewish People are in crisis, this is Hashem calling for our attention. We of course owe an enormous debt of gratitude to the courageous soldiers and all those working to protect us from our bitter enemies, who are G-d's messengers sent to safeguard His beloved children. But alongside our appreciation for the messengers – we mustn't forget the One who sent them. In times of crisis – personal or national – let's ensure not to miss the point, and to direct our attention toward Hashem in prayer and repentance. Thu, 04 Jun 2026 00:01:11 GMT Rabbi Eli Mansour Rabbi Eli Mansour No Insights into the Weekly Parasha - Brought to you by itorah.com Insights into the Weekly Parasha - Brought to you by itorah.com Parasha, Parsha, Sedra, Chumash 53ca5356-5404-f81f-c3df-74b19641e30d Parashat Naso is famous for being the longest Parasha in the entire Torah, as it consists of 176 verses. Not coincidentally, this is also the number of verses in the longest chapter of Tehillim (119), and the number of pages in the longest Masechet in the Talmud, Masechet Baba Batra. The unique significance of this number is revealed to us by the Maharal of Prague (Rav Yehuda Loew, d. 1609). He begins by establishing what has become a well-known principle regarding the number 8 – namely, that it signifies the notion of extending beyond the confines of nature. The world was created in seven days – and, in the teachings of Kabbalah, through the process of the seven Sefirot, spiritual energies – and so the number 7 represents the natural order. The number 8, then, alludes to that which is beyond the limits of nature. Thus, for example, the Berit Mila is performed on a child's eighth day, indicating that we are expected to restrain our natural impulses, to live on a higher plane, where our sacred soul controls our natural body. Likewise, the Maharal explains, the seven lamps of the Menorah in the Bet Ha'mikdash symbolize the natural world – and behind the curtain in the Mikdash there was the eighth "light," the Torah. The sacred Aron (ark) contained the Torah, and it was thus called "Aron," a derivative of the word "Or" – "light." The Torah shines its own form of light – not a natural light that enables us to see with our eyes, but a spiritual light that reaches our souls, and uplifts and inspires us. The Torah is written with the 22 letters of the Hebrew alphabet, the Maharal writes, and when we multiply 22 by 8, we arrive at 176. This number, then, is associated with Torah's supernatural quality, its having originated outside our world, reminding us that it is through the study of Torah that we can extend beyond the confines of our world and connect ourselves to Hashem and to all the powers that lie outside our world. For this reason, the longest Parasha, the longest chapter of Tehillim, and the long section of the Gemara are all connected with this number, as they embody the great power of Torah. This unique power, which is associated with the number 176, also enables us to overcome our foes. Kabbalah teaches that the greatest spiritual force that threatens Beneh Yisrael is represented by one of the grandsons of Esav, a man named Sefo (Tzadi, Peh, Vav), whose name is listed among the twelve chieftains of Edom, the nation that descended from Esav (Bereshit 36:15). The Ramban cites the historian Josephus as relating that Sefo was a fierce enemy of Yaakob Abinu and his family, and when Yaakob's sons brought his remains from Egypt to Hebron for burial in Me'arat Ha'machpela, Sefo and his men waged war against them. However, Yaakob's sons prevailed, captured Sefo, and brought him as a prisoner to Egypt. Sefo would later escape and make his way to what would become Rome, and he is thus the founder of the kingdom of Rome, the bitter enemy of the Jewish People. According to the wisdom of Kabbalah, Sefo represents the spiritual force of our wicked enemies who wage war against us and seek our demise. The Ben Ish Hai (Rav Yosef Haim of Baghdad, 1833-1909) taught that the way we defeat the power of Sefo is through the power of Torah. Indeed, the name "Sefo" in Gematria equals 176 – and we thus overcome his force through the power of Torah, which is represented by that same number. This is why Sefo waged war at that time of Yaakob Abinu's funeral – because he knew that the greatest power Beneh Yisrael possess is the power of Torah, which was embodied by Yaakob. Sefo sought to fight Beneh Yisrael at that time to neutralize this power so he could defeat them – but the power of Yaakob, the power of Torah, prevailed. The Shabbat when we read Parashat Naso – especially coming on the heels of Shabuot, when we renewed our acceptance of the Torah – is an appropriate occasion to remind ourselves of the unique power of Torah learning. As we see the alarming rise of antisemitism around the world, and as the Jewish State finds itself in the midst of a difficult war against its fierce, evil enemies, let us recommit ourselves to Torah learning. Let us all ensure that we are devoting the time and effort that we should to learn, so that we can harness the great power of Torah with which to overcome our nation's bitter foes. Thu, 28 May 2026 00:01:11 GMT Rabbi Eli Mansour Rabbi Eli Mansour No Insights into the Weekly Parasha - Brought to you by itorah.com Insights into the Weekly Parasha - Brought to you by itorah.com Parasha, Parsha, Sedra, Chumash d9eaeee2-dd0b-75c1-8275-65f2ae80e41a Numerous reasons have been given for the time-honored, cherished custom to eat dairy foods on Shabuot. One of the lesser-known explanations is that offered by the Rama (Rav Moshe Isserles, Poland, 1530-1572), in his glosses to the Shulhan Aruch (Orah Haim 494). Interestingly enough, the custom the Rama describes is to eat a dairy meal followed by a meat meal. As Halacha forbids using the same loaf of bread for a dairy meal and a meat meal, eating these two meals necessitates the use of two separate loaves. These two loaves, the Rama writes, commemorate the special Shabuot sacrifice, which, as the Torah commands in the Book of Vayikra ( 23:17), consisted of two loaves of bread, and was thus named Korban Sheteh Ha'lehem (the "two-breads sacrifice"). We might wonder why, according to the Rama, no such commemoration is made for a similar sacrifice brought on the second day of Pesach. The Korban Ha'omer was offered from the newly-harvested barley on the 16 th of Nissan, and it paralleled the Korban Sheteh Ha'lehem brought on Shabuot. The Mishna (Menahot 68b) teaches that each of these two sacrifices functioned as a "Matir" – meaning, it made something permissible. The Korban Ha'omer made it permissible to eat from the newly-harvested crops, and the Korban Sheteh Ha'lehem made it permissible to offer Menahot (grain offerings) in the Bet Ha'mikdash from the newly-harvested crop. Meaning, although it was permissible to eat from the new grain after the offering of the Korban Ha'omer on the 16 th of Nissan, it remained forbidden to bring a meal-offering in the Temple from the new grain until the Korban Sheteh Ha'lehem was brought on Shabuot. Seemingly, if – as the Rama writes – we make a commemoration on Shabuot for the Korban Sheteh Ha'lehem, then we should also make a commemoration on the second day of Pesach for the Korban Ha'omer. Why don't we? The answer lies is a fundamental distinction between these two sacrifices. This distinction is expressed in a comment by the Sefat Emet (Rav Yehuda Aryeh Leib of Ger, Poland, 1847-1905) discussing a situation where, for whatever reason, the Korban Sheteh Ha'lehem was not brought on Shabuot. When it comes to the Korban Ha'omer on Pesach, the Sages inferred from a verse that the new grain becomes permissible for consumption after the 16 th of Nissan even if the sacrifice was not offered. Although the sacrifice is what permits the new grain, if there was no sacrifice, the grain becomes permissible after that day. One might have thought that since no such textual inference was made in regard to the Korban Sheteh Ha'lehem, the new grain remains forbidden for use with Menahot if this sacrifice is not offered. (This is, indeed, the view taken by the Minhat Hinuch, Siman 307.) The Sefat Emet, however, writes that this is not so. He explains that the Torah does not actually forbid using the new grain for sacrifices before the offering of the Korban Sheteh Ha'lehem. Rather, it requires that the Korban Sheteh Ha'lehem must be the first sacrifice brought from the new crop. This sacrifice is called a "Minha Hadasha" – "a new grain offering," because it was the first grain offering prepared with the newly-harvested wheat. This is the only reason why sacrifices may not be brought from the new crop before Shabuot – because the special Shabuot offering must be the first sacrifice brought from the new grain. Naturally, then, if – for whatever reason – this sacrifice was not brought, sacrifices may nevertheless be brought from the new crop after Shavuot. This understanding of the Korban Sheteh Ha'lehem points to a fundamental distinction between this sacrifice and the Korban Ha'omer on Pesach. The Korban Sheteh Ha'lehem is not actually a "Matir." Its function is not to permit wheat for use with sacrifices. It is offered as part of the celebration of Shabuot, which is called "Yom Ha'bikkurim" (Bamidbar 28:26) – the day of the new produce, when the first portion of newly-harvested wheat is brought as a sacrifice. The Korban Ha'omer, by contrast, is not inherently linked to Pesach. It happens to coincide with Pesach, but it has nothing inherently to do with this holiday. The Torah commanded offering this sacrifice on the 16 th of Nissan to permit eating the new crop, but this offering is not part of the observance of Pesach. This is seen clearly in the Rambam's rulings regarding the distribution of these sacrifices among the Kohanim. Generally speaking, the portions of a sacrifice given to the Kohanim were distributed only among the Kohanim who were "on duty" when the sacrifice was offered. However, the special Yom Tov sacrifices were distributed among any Kohen who wanted a portion, even if the Yom Tov was not during his "shift." In Hilchot Temidin U'musafin, the Rambam writes that the Korban Ha'omer was treated like a regular sacrifice – given only to the Kohanim who were "on duty" that day – but the Korban Sheteh Ha'lehem was distributed among all the Kohanim, as it is a Yom Tov sacrifice. This clearly shows that the Korban Sheteh Ha'lehem is part of the celebration of Shabuot, whereas the Korban Ha'omer is not part of the celebration of Pesach. This easily explains why, according to the Rama, we make a commemoration of the Korban Sheteh Ha'lehem on Shabuot, but make no similar commemoration of the Korban Ha'omer on Pesach. Since the Korban Sheteh Ha'lehem was an integral part of the Yom Tob of Shabuot in the times of the Bet Ha'mikdash, it warrants a commemoration now, when we cannot offer the sacrifice. The Korban Ha'omer, by contrast, was not an integral part of the Pesach celebration, and so it does not warrant a commemoration nowadays. Thu, 21 May 2026 00:01:11 GMT Rabbi Eli Mansour Rabbi Eli Mansour No Insights into the Weekly Parasha - Brought to you by itorah.com Insights into the Weekly Parasha - Brought to you by itorah.com Parasha, Parsha, Sedra, Chumash 9098b8b6-4ea1-26a7-d72b-6adb229f036e The Midrash teaches that the five Humashim – the books that comprise the Torah – are alluded to in the opening verses of the Torah, which tell of the creation of light on the first day of the world's creation. The word "Or" (light) appears five times in these verses, and they parallel the five Humashim. It follows, then, that the fourth Humash – the Book of Bamidbar, which we begin reading this Shabbat – corresponds to the fourth instance of the word "Or" in these verses: "Va'yabdel Elokim Beh Ha'or U'ben Ha'hoshech" – "G-d separated between light and the darkness" (1:4). What might be the connection between the Book of Bamidbar and the "separation" between light and darkness? The Netziv (Rav Naftali Zvi Yehuda Berlin of Volozhin, 1816-1893) offers a fascinating answer, by explaining the primary theme of Sefer Bamidbar. This book, he writes, traces Beneh Yisrael's transition from a miraculous existence to a natural existence. The book begins at Mount Sinai, in the desert, where Beneh Yisrael relied on G-d's miracles in order to survive. They received the manna from the heavens, and water from a supernatural well that accompanied them as they traveled. The Ananeh Ha'kabod ("clouds of glory") protected them from the elements and from enemy attack. Beneh Yisrael journeyed for forty years in a region that was ordinarily uninhabitable, under Hashem's miraculous care and protection. At the end of Sefer Bamidbar, Beneh Yisrael find themselves on the border of the Land of Israel, nearly ready to cross into the land. There they would live a natural existence – fighting wars against enemies, growing crops, building cities, and developing an economy. Of course, this natural existence would require G-d's intervention; even when leading a natural lifestyle, nothing can succeed without Hashem's help. But once they crossed into the land, Beneh Yisrael were no longer cared for miraculously; they lived in accordance with the laws of nature. This is why at the end of the Book of Bamidbar, Beneh Yisrael take up arms and fight wars. They begin preparations for the battles to conquer the land, and for the division of the land. After living a miraculous existence for forty years, they now needed to transition to a natural mode of existence. The Netziv explains that this is why Sefer Bamidbar is associated with the "separation" between light and darkness. Light symbolizes G-d's open miracles, which make His control of the world unmistakably clear and evident. By contrast, darkness symbolizes the veil of the natural world, which conceals the Hand of Providence. When nature follows its course, we do not see Hashem, though we must firmly believe that He controls all events, random and natural as they might outwardly seem. Just as darkness makes it difficult to see that which we know exists, nature makes it difficult to see Hashem's control and governance, but we know that He is behind everything and orchestrating everything that happens. Hence, Sefer Bamidbar is associated with the distinction between light and darkness – because it signifies Beneh Yisrael's transition from a supernatural existence to a natural one. The Netziv explains on this basis why the Sages calls Sefer Bamidbar "Humash Ha'pekduim" – the "Book of Countings," which later evolved into the name, "Numbers." This name refers to two censuses of Beneh Yisrael that were taken in Sefer Bamidbar. We might wonder, why are these events viewed as the primary theme and essence of this book? So much happens in the Book of Bamidbar – why would the Sages focus on the two occasions when the people were counted when choosing a name for this book? The answer, the Netziv writes, is that the two censuses signify the transition that Beneh Yisrael underwent over the course of this Sefer. The first census was conducted for the purpose of arranging Beneh Yisrael's camp around the Mishkan in the desert, whereas the second was conducted to prepare for the apportioning of the territory of Eretz Yisrael among the tribes. The difference between these two censuses reflects the difference between the "light" and the "darkness," between the miraculous existence in the desert, and the natural existence in Eretz Yisrael. Therefore, this Sefer is indeed "Humash Ha'pekudim," a book of "countings," because the two countings demonstrate the transition that constitutes the essence of this book, the transition from the miracles of the desert to life in Eretz Yisrael, where G-d cares for and protects us not overly, but behind the veil of the laws of nature. Thu, 14 May 2026 00:01:11 GMT Rabbi Eli Mansour Rabbi Eli Mansour No Insights into the Weekly Parasha - Brought to you by itorah.com Insights into the Weekly Parasha - Brought to you by itorah.com Parasha, Parsha, Sedra, Chumash 993cf2a0-ec47-88b3-d7a6-e5780434034d In the opening verses of Parashat Behukotai, the Torah promises great reward "Im Be'hukotai Telechu" – "If you follow My statutes." Rashi, in one of the more famous passages in his Torah commentary, writes that this phrase does not actually refer to Misva observance. After all, the very next words of the verse are "Ve'et Misvotai Tishmeru" – "and you observe My commands." Necessarily, then, the phrase "Im Be'hukotai Telechu" must denote something other than the performance of Misvot. Rashi therefore explains that it means "She'tiheyu Amelim Ba'Torah" – "that you are toiling in Torah." Many have noted that Rashi speaks here not of the study of Torah, but rather of "Amelut" – toil, hard work and exertion, investing a great deal of effort to learn. The importance of "Amelut" can be seen already in the events surrounding Matan Torah, the giving of the Torah at Sinai, which we will soon commemorate on the festival of Shabuot. The Gemara (Shabbat 88a) teaches that "Kafa Alehem Har Ke'gigit" – G-d lifted Mount Sinai and suspended it over Beneh Yisrael, threatening to annihilate them if they did not accept the Torah. They were not given a choice; they were coerced into accepting G-d's will. Many have raised the question of how to reconcile the Gemara's teaching with the Torah's account of Matan Torah, which tells that Beneh Yisrael willingly and excitedly accepted the Torah even before being informed of what it entails, enthusiastically pronouncing, "Na'aseh Ve'nishma" – "We will do and we will hear" (Shemot 24:7). If they happily announced their commitment to the Torah, then why did G-d need to threaten them and force the Torah upon them? A number of commentators answered that Beneh Yisrael committed willingly to the Torah She'bi'chtab – the written Torah, but not to the Torah She'be'al Peh – the oral law, which was eventually written into what we know as the Mishna. Coercion was necessary to force them to accept even the Torah She'be'al Peh. Why would Beneh Yisrael agree to the written Torah, but not to the oral halachic tradition? We might draw a comparison to a person who wants to stay fit and keep healthy without having to exercise. Instead of working out in the gym, he just wants a pill that he could take that would keep him thin and in shape no matter what or how much he eats, or how little he moves... Similarly, Beneh Yisrael were excited about accepting the Torah – but they didn't want to have to work for it. They wanted to be given a simple, straightforward, easy-to-read text that explained to them very clearly and succinctly what they needed to do. They wanted the instructions spoon-fed to them, presented to them in a lucid, organized fashion. But this is not how the Torah is meant to be learned. The Gemara (Kiddushin 30b) teaches that Torah study is the "antidote" to the Yeser Ha'ra (evil inclination). We overcome our negative tendencies and sinful impulses by immersing ourselves in Torah, by intensively applying ourselves and exerting effort to learn. If the Torah would be spoon-fed, it would not have this effect of empowering us against the Yeser Ha'ra. This requires "Amelut" – hard work and struggle. In fact, even when Rabbi Yehuda Ha'nasi wrote down the Oral Law, seeing that this was necessary to ensure its survival, he intentionally made the text ambiguous and difficult to understand. He maintained the delicate balance between making the material accessible and necessitating effort to comprehend it. "Amelut" is crucial to the process of Torah learning, as it is only through hard work that we achieve the spiritual benefits of Torah study, the strength to defeat the Yeser Ha'ra in its various forms. As we saw, Rashi explains the phrase "Im Be'hukotai Telechu" as a reference to exertion in Torah study. He perhaps read the word "Be'hukotai" ("My statutes") as alluding to the rules of interpreting the Torah text, the thirteen "Middot She'ha'Torah Nidreshet Bahem" – methods by which the Sages extracted Halachot from the written Torah, as listed by Rabbi Yishmael, and as we recite in our prayers each morning. These thirteen rules of interpretation represent the difference between a clear, lucid body of text, and a difficult text that can be understood only with rigorous study and analysis. We are promised reward not for simply learning Torah – but for investing the effort to learn "Be'hukotai," to study the Sages' intricate, complex discussions of the Torah text and their derivation of Halacha from its words. As we prepare for the celebration of Shabuot, let us commit to not only learn Torah – but to toil in Torah, to invest effort, so we can reap all the precious spiritual benefits that it offers us. Thu, 07 May 2026 00:01:11 GMT Rabbi Eli Mansour Rabbi Eli Mansour No Insights into the Weekly Parasha - Brought to you by itorah.com Insights into the Weekly Parasha - Brought to you by itorah.com Parasha, Parsha, Sedra, Chumash a04aa0ae-0251-259d-499d-9e39b6517306 Parashat Emor concludes with the disturbing story of the "Megadef," the individual who publicly blasphemed G-d. The man was brought before Moshe, and Hashem informed Moshe that blasphemy is a capital crime, and this individual must therefore be put to death. Rashi (24:10) brings different explanations for what drove the "Megadef" to blaspheme G-d. One approach is that he had found himself on the losing side of an unfortunate legal dispute. The background to this dispute dates back to Beneh Yisrael's period of slavery in Egypt, when this man's mother was desired by an Egyptian man, and he schemed to have an illicit relationship with her. The "Megadef" was the product of this forbidden union. As such, he did not legally belong to his mother's tribe, the tribe of Dan. When he tried pitching his tent in Dan's territory, he was taken to court, and he lost the case. Since his father was an Egyptian, he did not have legal rights to territory among the people of Dan. This background to the story perhaps explains a subtle nuance in Hashem's instructions to Moshe. After commanding that the "Megadef" must be given capital punishment, G-d told Moshe that this is the law for all blasphemers. He said: "Ish Ish Ki Yekalel Elokav Ve'nasa Het'o" – "Any person who blasphemes his G-d shall bear his sin" (24:15). Curiously, G-d here repeats the word "Ish" ("person"), perhaps suggesting that He refers to two different people. The explanation might be that Hashem was alluding to the two guilty parties in this tragic story. True, the "Megadef" himself committed a grievous offense for which he needed to be severely punished, but the other party, the person who fought against him, also shared a not-insignificant share of the guilt. Certainly, his insensitivity and decision to pursue legal action in no way justified the blasphemy spoken by the "Megadef," because even when we endure hardship and suffer hostility, we are expected to maintain our composure and our faith in Hashem. Nevertheless, the other party to this dispute cannot be excused for angering the "Megadef" and leading him to this grave sin. Hashem thus told Moshe, "Ish Ish Ki Yekalel Elokav Ve'nasa Het'o" – both parties bear a degree of guilt in the case of blasphemy, because provoking a person and turning a resolvable situation into a fight – even if this does not justify the other party's extreme reaction – is wrong. Not every fight that can be fought should be fought. In fact, in the vast majority of situations, fights should not be fought. Being right does not make fighting the right decision. And so very often, both parties are guilty, because even the party that is technically correct was wrong for pursuing the matter and fighting about it. Thu, 30 Apr 2026 00:01:11 GMT Rabbi Eli Mansour Rabbi Eli Mansour No Insights into the Weekly Parasha - Brought to you by itorah.com Insights into the Weekly Parasha - Brought to you by itorah.com Parasha, Parsha, Sedra, Chumash 22e1251a-a5b9-5d0d-4d23-39cf07577570 In one of the most famous – and most misquoted – verses in the Torah, we are commanded in Parashat Kedoshim (19:18), "Ve'ahabta Le're'acha Kamocha' – "You shall love your fellow as yourself." I say "misquoted" because the command does not conclude with the word "Kamocha" ("as yourself"). The verse continues, "Ani Hashem" – "I am G-d." It stands to reason that the pronouncement "Ani Hashem" constitutes part of the definition of this command, and informs us about the kind of love that we are to feel toward our fellow. The Meshech Hochma (Rav Meir Simcha Ha'kohen of Dvinsk, 1843-1926) offers several explanations of this command, and for why the Torah adds, "Ani Hashem." One approach he suggests is that we are to love our fellow in the same manner that we are commanded to love Hashem. It goes without saying that we cannot see G-d, and we cannot perceive Him directly with any of our senses. Nevertheless, we are to strive to love Hashem, knowing that He is infinitely great, compassionate, kind and merciful. We are to long for a relationship with Him and to understand Him even though we cannot see Him with our eyes. This is true also of the love we are to feel and show to our fellow Jews. This love must not be dependent upon our experiences with them, or upon what we know about them. Just as we believe in Hashem's greatness even though we cannot see Him directly, similarly, we are to firmly believe in the greatness of Am Yisrael, in the precious value of our fellow Jew, even if we cannot see it. The Torah therefore adds, "Ani Hashem" – indicating that we must love our fellow Jews the way we love Hashem. This requires us, first and foremost, to feel love and concern even for Jews whom we've never met, and whom we know nothing about. When we hear that a Jew is in need in a different part of the world, then we must do what we can to help, and pray for that person, even though we know nothing about him or her. But additionally, this means that we are to love our fellow Jews whom we know but are not particularly impressed with, or don't particularly like. Just as we must love Hashem even though He occasionally does things which appear harsh and to our detriment, firmly believing in His goodness, we must similarly believe in the goodness of all our fellow Jews, even if we cannot see it. We are to recognize that although all people are flawed, every person has a precious soul and is worthy of our genuine love and respect. The Misva of "Ve'ahabta Le're'acha Kamocha," then, requires us to believe in the greatness of each of our fellow Jews irrespective of our experiences with them, and to thereby arouse our feelings of love toward them. Thu, 23 Apr 2026 00:01:11 GMT Rabbi Eli Mansour Rabbi Eli Mansour No Insights into the Weekly Parasha - Brought to you by itorah.com Insights into the Weekly Parasha - Brought to you by itorah.com Parasha, Parsha, Sedra, Chumash 83faeda3-0c7f-7500-efb5-22319f3500e7 Much of Parashiyot Tazria-Mesora is devoted to the topic of Sara'at – the affliction that would befall a person on account of certain misdeeds, primarily, the grievous sin of Lashon Ha'ra, negative speech about other people. King David, in a famous verse in Tehillim (34:14), instructs us, "Nesor Leshoncha Me'ra" – "Guard your tongue from evil," urging us to refrain from Lashon Ha'ra. Curiously, this verse continues, "U'sfatecha Mi'daber Mirma" – "and your lips from speaking deceit." At first glance, this means that we are to refrain from both negative speech about other people, and also from misleading others through dishonesty. We must wonder, however, why the verse combines these two admonitions. Seemingly, these are two completely distinct ills – Lashon Ha'ra, and deceit. Why would David combine them into a single warning, urging us to restrain our mouths from both negative talk about people and from dishonesty? We might perhaps arrive at a new understanding of this verse by exploring the psychological underpinnings of the desire to speak Lashon Ha'ra, why we are so often and so naturally inclined to hear and share negative information about other people, and why we find it so difficult to refrain from such speech. The most common reason people enjoy speaking Lashon Ha'ra, I think, is to feel good about themselves. We are all human, and human beings, by definition, are flawed and imperfect. A person's flaws and imperfections make him uncomfortable, bringing feelings of shame, inadequacy and insecurity. Speaking of other people's failings works like a drug to alleviate this discomfort. Focusing one's attention on another person's inadequacies brings a sense of superiority, thereby allowing him to feel good about himself. This is the lure of Lashon Ha'ra, and why nearly every person feels tempted to speak negatively about others. Since every person has faults which make him uncomfortable, every person feels a natural impulse to alleviate this discomfort the easy way – by looking down on other people, by talking about what they do wrong. However, like with all "drugs," this is the wrong way to handle uncomfortable feelings. When the fleeting rush of excitement fades, the person is still left with his deficiencies, and thus with his feelings of insecurity. Looking down on other people temporarily blinds a person to his own faults, but those faults remain, and will continue to make him feel uneasy and insecure. This might be the meaning of the verse in Tehillim cited earlier. "Guard your tongue from evil, and your lips from speaking deceit." The "deceit" mentioned in this verse perhaps refers to the self-deception of Lashon Ha'ra. When one speaks Lashon Ha'ra, he deceives himself, pretending that he is more impressive and accomplished than he really is. Lashon Ha'ra is all about fooling oneself into thinking that he is great by pointing out the failings of other people. What, then, is the proper way to deal with our feelings of insecurity? How, as imperfect people, can we feel good about ourselves and our lives? The answer is found in the very next verse in Tehillim: "Sur Me'ra Va'aseh Tob" – "Turn away from evil, and do goodness." Quite simply, the way to feel good about ourselves is by trying to be better. Rather than deceiving ourselves, we should instead honestly acknowledge our faults, admit to ourselves that we – like all people – are imperfect and are meant to be imperfect, and try to be better. If we want to live in peace with ourselves, we need to stop fooling ourselves and to instead work hard to address our faults and improve. No, this will not bring the same excitement as hearing or sharing "juicy," unflattering gossip about the people around us. But it will have the long-term effect of making us feel good about ourselves, of bringing us peace of mind and real fulfillment, as we know that we are genuinely making an effort to live our best lives and be the best version of ourselves. Thu, 16 Apr 2026 00:01:11 GMT Rabbi Eli Mansour Rabbi Eli Mansour No Insights into the Weekly Parasha - Brought to you by itorah.com Insights into the Weekly Parasha - Brought to you by itorah.com Parasha, Parsha, Sedra, Chumash 90c6a0a2-557d-bb1d-cd46-a804e2d1732d The Torah in Parashat Shemini tells the tragic story of Nadab and Abihu – two of Aharon's sons, who perished on the very first day they began serving as Kohanim in the Mishkan. After a special series of sacrifices were offered, with Aharon's sons performing the service for the first time, a fire descended from the heavens onto the altar and consumed the sacrifices, signalling the arrival of the Shechina (divine presence) into the Mishkan. Thereafter, Nadab and Abihu brought an incense offering, whereupon a fire came and consumed them. Rashi (10:2) brings different opinions as to the precise sin committed by Aharon's sons. One view – which appears in the Gemara (Erubin 63a) – is that of Rabbi Eliezer, who explains that "Horu Halacha Bi'fneh Moshe Rabban" – Nadab and Abihu were guilty of determining the Halacha without consulting with their Rabbi, Moshe. They reasoned that although a supernatural fire came down onto the altar from the heavens, there was nevertheless a requirement for the Kohanim to kindle a fire of their own on the altar, and this is the reason why they brought their offering. In truth, this conclusion was correct; there was, in fact, such a requirement. Nevertheless, Nadab and Abihu committed a grave offense by acting independently on their line of reasoning without first receiving guidance from Moshe. In Moshe's presence, they did not have the authority to establish Halachic norms on their own. Therefore, although their reasoning was entirely correct, they were guilty of a grievous sin in that they did not submit to Moshe Rabbenu's authority. The Lebush Ha'ora (Rav Mordechai Yoffe, c. 1530-1612) noted that Rabbi Eliezer's understanding of this episode is rooted in a careful reading of the text. In telling of Nadab and Abihu's offering, the Torah writes that they offered an "Esh Zara Asher Lo Siva Otam" – "a foreign fire which He did not command them." If the problem with the Nadab and Abihu's act was the offering itself, then the Torah should have simply stated that they brought an "Esh Zara" – an offering that was foreign, that was unwarranted and hence forbidden. But the Torah added "Asher Lo Siva Otam" – that Nadab and Abihu did not receive the command to bring this offering, suggesting that this was the essence of their sin. Hashem had taught Moshe the rule that the Kohanim were to produce their own fire on the altar, but this information had not yet been communicated to Aharon's sons. Moshe had been commanded to place fire on the altar – but Nadab and Abihu's hadn't. And thus the Torah emphasizes that this was an offering about which Moshe was commanded, but they weren't – and they were therefore punished for acting independently. This tragedy presents us with a crucial lesson in humility. Namely, even when we are confident that we are correct, we must still consult with those wiser and more knowledgeable than us. We must have the humility to recognize our limits, to realize that even things which seem obvious and intuitive to us might not necessarily be correct. We need to acknowledge that there are people with greater knowledge and wisdom whose advice is valuable and even indispensable. We should never feel too confident to ask, to seek guidance, to double check, to consult, to request advice. Even when we are certain, we must humbly question our conclusion and receive instruction and insight from those who know more than we do. Fri, 10 Apr 2026 00:01:11 GMT Rabbi Eli Mansour Rabbi Eli Mansour No Insights into the Weekly Parasha - Brought to you by itorah.com Insights into the Weekly Parasha - Brought to you by itorah.com Parasha, Parsha, Sedra, Chumash e95a1e41-349c-d0ac-2aed-d1260860def2 Toward the end of the Maggid section, we read the famous teaching of Rabban Gamliel: "Whoever did not say the following three things on Pesach has not fulfilled his obligation: Pesach, Masa, and Marror." Rabban Gamliel then proceeds to explain the meaning and significance of these three Misvot. The Pesach sacrifice was offered in the times of the Bet Ha'mikdash to commemorate the miracle of the plague of the firstborn, when Hashem "skipped" ("Pasach") over Beneh Yisrael's homes on the night of the Exodus, protecting them from the plague. The Masa commemorates the fact that Beneh Yisrael left Egypt hastily, without having had time to prepare and to allow their dough to rise. And the Marror symbolizes the "bitterness" of slavery from which our ancestors were saved. At the Seder, we are obligated to discuss the meaning of these three Misvot. Many commentators noted that this passage is stated out of chronological sequence. The "bitterness" of slavery, quite obviously, preceded the plague of the firstborn and Beneh Yisrael's frantic departure from Egypt. Yet, surprisingly, Rabban Gamliel first discusses the Pesach sacrifice and Masa – which commemorate the events of the Exodus – and only then mentions the Marror, which represents the slavery that our ancestors endured prior to their redemption. Why is the Marror mentioned last? Numerous answers have been given to this question, one of which emerges from a deeper understanding of Rabban Gamliel's teaching. Many years ago, as a young Rabbi, I was approached by a group of young men in the community who asked me to deliver a weekly class, which they would host on a rotational basis. These fellows were not particularly observant, and I was very pleased that they expressed interest in a weekly Shiur (Torah class). But when I showed up for the first class, I was aghast. The table was set up for a card game, with chips, cigarettes and beer bottles. I felt very uncomfortable, and I asked the host what this was all about. He explained that this group meets every week for a card game, so they figured they would begin the evening with a Torah class. After that first class, I consulted with a certain great Rabbi to receive guidance. I did not think it was appropriate for me to give a Shiur to these people under these conditions. I'll never forget what the Rabbi told me. "What they do after the Shiur is none of your business," he said. "Your job is to teach them Torah. And the light of Torah will change them." I accepted the advice, and he proved correct. Gradually, all these young men discontinued their improper behavior. It did not happen immediately, but it happened. On another occasion, I was asked to deliver a weekly Torah class to a group of men on Shabbat. Every week, the man who hosted the Shiur in his home would get up and leave in the middle. I later found out that he left for work. Once again, I consulted with a great Rabbi in the community, asking if it was appropriate for me to continue teaching a Torah class in the home of a Shabbat desecrator who gets up to leave in the middle to go to work. "Are you going to wait for him to stop working on Shabbat before teaching him Torah?" the Rabbi told me. Now this man is fully observant, learns Torah for two hours every day, and gives large amounts of money to Sedaka. Three times every weekday, in the Amida prayer, we ask Hashem to help us repent. We ask, "Hashibenu Abinu Le'Toratecha Ve'korbenu Malkenu La'abodatecha" – "Bring us back, our Father, to Your Torah, and draw us close, our King, to Your service." We ask that we be returned to Torah even before our service is complete. We do not wait until our behavior is perfect, until we have fully performed Teshuba, before learning Torah and trying to draw close to Hashem. To the contrary – we are to take the first steps even in our state of imperfection, as these steps will help us improve. This might be the deeper meaning of Rabban Gamliel's teaching about "Pesach, Masa, U'marror." The word "Pesach" means to skip. Rabban Gamliel is teaching us to "skip" right to the "Masa." In a different context, the Sages commented that the word "Masa" is associated with the word "Misva," for we must observe Misvot with zeal and alacrity just as the dough must be handled quickly and rigorously to avoid becoming Hametz. We are to skip to the stage of "Masa," of Misva observance, even before addressing the "Marror" – the "bitterness" of sin and religious failings. Theoretically, we should first cleanse ourselves of wrongdoing before coming to serve G-d. In practice, however, this does not work. If we refrain from Misvot until we fully repent from our misdeeds, we will likely never feel ready to begin our service of Hashem. Rabban Gamliel therefore urges us to skip the stage of "Marror," to begin performing Misvot even if our behavior is far from perfect – as the light of Misvot will help us improve. We begin the Seder with the words "Kadesh U'rhatz" – referring to Kiddush and hand-washing. The message here is that we should strive for "Kadesh" – for holiness, even before we have "washed" ourselves, before we are fully "cleansed" of wrongdoing. Hashem wants us to begin learning Torah and performing Misvot even if we are currently far from perfect, and to trust that the good habits we develop, and the spiritual power of Torah and Misva observance, will impact our souls and our behavior, and lead us to greater purity. Tue, 31 Mar 2026 00:01:11 GMT Rabbi Eli Mansour Rabbi Eli Mansour No Insights into the Weekly Parasha - Brought to you by itorah.com Insights into the Weekly Parasha - Brought to you by itorah.com Parasha, Parsha, Sedra, Chumash e97d85ac-c45d-801e-e118-af547f5ea6bc Several different explanations have been given for why the Shabbat preceding Pesach is given the name "Shabbat Ha'gadol" – literally, "the Great Shabbat." One of the lesser-known reasons is a fascinating connection between this Shabbat and Abraham Abinu. The Gemara in Masechet Rosh Hashanah (11) brings a debate between Rabbi Eliezer and Rabbi Yehoshua as to the month in which the Abot (patriarchs) passed away. Rabbi Yehoshua maintained that the three Abot – Abraham, Yishak and Yaakob – died during the month of Nissan, whereas Rabbi Eliezer was of the opinion that they passed away during Tishri. However, a different source – the Yalkut Reubeni (in Parashat Lech-Lecha) – states that Abraham Abinu died during the month of Tebet. This is alluded to in G-d's promise to Abraham, "Tikaber Be'seba Toba" – that he would be buried at an advanced age (Bereshit 15:15). The first letters of these three words (Tav, Bet, Tet) are the three letters of the word "Tebet," and the word "Toba" resembles "Tebet." This is mentioned also in the work Seder Ha'dorot (Rav Yehiel Heilprin, 1660-1746). The obvious question arises as to how to reconcile this theory with the Gemara, which indicates that Abraham died either in Nissan or in Tishri. The Hida (Rav Haim Yosef David Azulai, 1724-1806) answers this question by citing a Kabbalistic source about the unique nature of the month of Nissan. The Torah designates Nissan as the first month of the year, and according to the teachings of Kabbalah, this month contains within it an element of all other months. Each of the first days of Nissan corresponds to a different month of the year. Rosh Hodesh Nissan is associated with Nissan itself, whereas the 2 nd of Nissan is associated with Iyar, the 3 rd is connected to Sivan, the 4 th to Tammuz, and so on. Accordingly, the sources that say that Abraham died in Tebet could be understood to mean that he died on the day of Nissan – following Rabbi Yehoshua's opinion – corresponding to the month of Tebet. As Tebet is the tenth month, this would mean that Abraham Abinu died on the 10 th of Nissan. As we know, the 10 th of Nissan is a very significant date – as it was on this day when, just before the Exodus from Egypt, Beneh Yisrael prepared the sheep for the Pesach sacrifice which they offered on the afternoon of the 14 th of Nissan (Shemot 12:3) in preparation for their departure from Egypt. Now in the year of the Exodus, the 15 th of Nissan – the day Beneh Yisrael left Egypt – fell on Thursday, such that the 10 th of Nissan fell on Shabbat. It emerges, then, that Shabbat Ha'gadol marks the Yahrtzeit of Abraham Abinu. On this basis, it has been explained why this Shabbat is given the name "Shabbat Ha'gadol." A verse in the Book of Yehoshua (14:15) speaks of a great man – "Ha'adam Ha'gadol Ba'anakim" – who lived in Hebron, and our Sages teach that this refers to Abraham Abinu. As he is the "Ha'adam Ha'gadol," the Shabbat before Pesach, which commemorates his Yahrtzeit, is called "Shabbat Ha'gadol." Thu, 26 Mar 2026 00:01:11 GMT Rabbi Eli Mansour Rabbi Eli Mansour No Insights into the Weekly Parasha - Brought to you by itorah.com Insights into the Weekly Parasha - Brought to you by itorah.com Parasha, Parsha, Sedra, Chumash d76152a6-d1a1-fb32-98c5-a0ea7cb4f3da The Mishna in Pirkeh Abot (3:16) teaches: "The shop is open, the shopkeeper gives on credit, the ledger is open, the hand writes, and whoever wishes to borrow may come and borrow." Meaning, G-d invited us to come and enjoy the blessings of the world, "on credit," even before we deserve them, though with the expectation that repay our "debt" through the performance of Misvot. The Megaleh Amukot (Rav Natan Neta Spira, Poland, 1584-1633) offers a deeper explanation of the Mishna's teaching, noting that the word "Hanut" ("shop") may be read as an acrostic for "Hodesh Nissan Ve'hodesh Tishri" – "the month of Nissan and the month of Tishri." During these two months in particular we are invited to "borrow," to receive great blessings from the Almighty that we do not necessarily deserve. These two months – Tishri, when we observe the Yamim Noraim, and Nissan, when we observe Pesach – are especially auspicious times when we are able to turn to Hashem in sincere prayer and have our wishes fulfilled. This connection between the months of Nissan and Tishri is discussed also by Rav Baruch of Medzhybizh (1753–1811), in explaining a verse in Parashat Bo ( 13:5) regarding the Pesach sacrifice: "Ve'abateta Et Ha'aboda Ha'zot Ba'hodesh Ha'zeh" – "You shall perform this service in this month." Rav Baruch explains that the word "Zot" ("this") refers to Yom Kippur, when the Kohen Gadol would perform the special Aboda (service) in the Bet Ha'mikdash, which the Torah describes with the word "Zot": "Be'zot Yabo Aharon El Ha'kodesh" ("With this shall Aharon enter the Sanctuary" – Vayikra 16:3). The word "Zeh" (the masculine form of "Zot"), Rav Baruch says, refers to the month of Nissan, of which G-d declared, "Ha'hodesh Ha'zeh Lachem Rosh Hodashim" – "This month is for you the first of the months" (Shemot 12:2). Hence, when the Torah tells us, "Ve'abateta Et Ha'aboda Ha'zot Ba'hodesh Ha'zeh," it means that we should perform the service of "Ha'zot" – of Yom Kippur – during "Ha'hodesh Ha'zeh" – the month of Nissan. Just as the period of the High Holidays is a time for repentance and spiritual growth, so is the month of Nissan. Rav Baruch adds that the difference between the words "Zot" and "Zeh" shows us the difference between the Teshuba (repentance) of Tishri and the Teshuba of Nissan. In Kabbalistic teaching, the feminine form is associated with passivity and timidness, whereas the masculine form connotes assertiveness. Tishri is referred to with the feminine form, "Zot," because this is a time of fear and intimidation, when we repent because we are being judged. Nissan, however, is a time for "Teshuba Me'ahaba" – repentance out of love. This is a joyous, vigorous Teshuba, when we seek to grow out of a sense of excitement and enthusiasm, out of deep love for Hashem and a desire to draw closer to Him. The Abneh Nezer (Rav Avraham Borenstein of Sochatchov, Poland, 1838-1910) writes that the days of Nissan are especially precious, and every hour during this month is as valuable as an entire day in a different month. This is a month in which we can achieve greatness, and it behooves to take full advantage of this opportunity, and utilize our time during Nissan for intensive Torah learning, prayer, and spiritual growth. Thu, 19 Mar 2026 00:01:11 GMT Rabbi Eli Mansour Rabbi Eli Mansour No Insights into the Weekly Parasha - Brought to you by itorah.com Insights into the Weekly Parasha - Brought to you by itorah.com Parasha, Parsha, Sedra, Chumash 250f3e4c-f4ee-3dc2-00fa-c49e4ab60a0e After describing in great detail the construction of the Mishkan and its furnishings, the Torah tells: "All the work for the Mishkan…was completed; Beneh Yisrael did in accordance with all that G-d had commanded Moshe; so did they do" (39:32). Rav Moshe Alshich (Safed, 1508-1593) observes that the sequence in this verse seems difficult. We would have expected the Torah to first tell us that Beneh Yisrael followed G-d's commands and built the Mishkan as He had instructed, and to then state that "the work…was completed." Instead, the Torah first writes that the work was completed, and then tells that Beneh Yisrael did as G-d had commanded them. Rav Moshe Alshich answers this question by postulating that in truth, the Mishkan was built miraculously. Beneh Yisrael, he explains, did not have the capabilities needed to complete such a large, complex project. However, when a person exerts maximum effort into the performance of a Misva, he is credited with the Misva's fulfillment regardless of the outcome. As long as a person does his best, he is credited with completing the job, even if the job was not actually completed. In the case of the Mishkan, then, the people were credited with building the Mishkan even though it was, in the end, built on its own, by Hashem. Since they exerted maximum effort in this undertaking, they are considered as though they actually built it – even though it was built by Hashem. The Alshich thus explains that the Torah first tells us, "All the work…was completed" – on its own, through Hashem's supernatural intervention. Nevertheless, "Beneh Yisrael did in accordance with all that G-d had commanded" – the people were credited with the fulfillment of Hashem's command to construct a Mishkan. The Alshich notes that the Torah here says that the people did not "Kol Asher Siva Hashem" – "all that G-d had commanded," but rather "Ke'chol Asher Siva Hashem," which could be read as, "similar to all that G-d had commanded." They did not actually perform what Hashem told them to do, because this was beyond their capabilities. But they were regarded as though they did, because they invested the greatest effort that they could, and therefore, "Ken Asu" – "so did they do," meaning, they were credited with the completion of the Mishkan. This insight denies us the ability to tell ourselves, "Why bother?" or "There's no point in even trying." Too often, people find Torah study and observance difficult, and so they just give up. They feel that since they can't do everything right, and since they've failed so many times, there's no point in trying. This is not true. The Torah was given to each and every one of us, with all our flaws and all our limitations, and we are each meant to do the best we can. We are not always going to succeed. We are going to make mistakes. We won't always get it right. But this reality does not in any way absolve us of the obligation to do the best we can, to make an effort to "build" the "Mishkan" within our beings. There is no excuse to stop trying. And the more we try, the more divine assistance we receive, and the greater success Hashem will grant us in all our spiritual endeavors. Thu, 12 Mar 2026 00:01:11 GMT Rabbi Eli Mansour Rabbi Eli Mansour No Insights into the Weekly Parasha - Brought to you by itorah.com Insights into the Weekly Parasha - Brought to you by itorah.com Parasha, Parsha, Sedra, Chumash dcf93446-388c-8804-8a16-ab4f5fe1442d Hashem commands in Parashat Ki-Tisa, "Ach Et Shabetotai Tishmoru" – "However, you shall observe my Shabbatot" (31:13). Rashi explains that after Hashem presented the commands regarding the construction of the Mishkan, He emphasized that the work on the Mishkan must be discontinued on Shabbat. The question arises, however, as to why Hashem here commands observing "Shabetotai" – His "Shabbatot." Instead of simply telling us to observe "Shabbat," He uses the plural form, referring to Shabbat as "Shabbatot." Why? A fascinating explanation is offered by the Ha'ketab Ve'ha'kabbala (Rav Yaakov Tzvi Mecklenberg, 1785-1865). He writes that etymologically, the word "Shabbat" has two meanings. First, it denotes "Shebita" – cessation from work. Additionally, the word "Shabbat" refers to "Yishub Ha'da'at" – peace of mind, and clarity. Ha'ketab Ve'ha'kabbala explains that we are commanded to "observe Shabbat" in two senses: by refraining from Melacha (forbidden activity), and by attaining "Yishub Ha'da'at" by experiencing he special Kedusha of Shabbat. The first Shabbat is intended to bring us to the second; we are to refrain from forbidden work for the purpose of reprogramming our minds, resetting our priorities, and refreshing our perspective on life. Throughout the week, we are busy tending to our needs, occupied with our careers, our businesses, and all the many other important things that we need to deal with. With all the frenzy of the workweek, we can so easily forget what this is all about, what the purpose of all this is. On Shabbat, there is an obligation of "Shebita" – to desist from Melacha – so that we can achieve "Yishub Ha'da'at," peace of mind, a clearer perspective on what life is all about, what our priorities ought to be. We spend more time in the synagogue, more time with our families, more time singing Pizmonim and learning Torah, so we can refresh our minds and remind ourselves of what's truly important. On this basis, Ha'ketab Ve'ha'kabbala suggests a novel reading of the Gemara's famous teaching (Shabbat 118b) that if the Jewish People would properly observe "Sheteh Shabbatot" – two Shabbatot – we would be worthy of redemption. This is commonly understood to mean that we would be redeemed if we all observe Shabbat for two weeks. Ha'ketab Ve'ha'kabbala, however, offers a different interpretation, explaining that the Gemara speaks of the two different dimensions of Shabbat observance. We become worthy of redemption if we not only refrain from the forbidden activities on Shabbat, but also experience the weekly "reset," gaining a new perspective on life by redirecting our focus onto spirituality and the service of Hashem. This concept might also shed light on a different teaching in the Gemara – that whoever enjoys delights on Shabbat, "the desires of his hearts are granted to him." At first glance, this means that by enjoying fine foods and delicacies on Shabbat, one guarantees that all his wishes are fulfilled. We might, however, understand this passage differently. If we observe Shabbat properly, then "Notenin Lo Mish'alot Libo" – he is given new wishes, new desires. Proper observance of Shabbat gives us a new perspective, and resets our priorities. Thus, if during the week our primary aspirations were about wealth and material luxuries, on Shabbat our aspirations are spiritual. Shabbat refreshes our perspective such that our primary goals are a greater connection with Hashem, more Torah knowledge, more Misvot, more religious engagement. The ultimate purpose of Shabbat is not the cessation of work itself – but rather the renewed perspective that this brings, which leads us to reset our priorities and redirect our focus onto that which really matters. Thu, 05 Mar 2026 00:01:11 GMT Rabbi Eli Mansour Rabbi Eli Mansour No Insights into the Weekly Parasha - Brought to you by itorah.com Insights into the Weekly Parasha - Brought to you by itorah.com Parasha, Parsha, Sedra, Chumash 53433bf3-8ccc-fa78-8099-ab2fb5b50abc Numerous sources point to a connection between the celebration of Purim and the story of Yosef. For example, Rav Levi Yishak of Berditchev (1740-1809) taught that each of the twelve months corresponds to one of the twelve sons of Yaakob Abinu, and the month of Adar – the month when Purim is celebrated – corresponds to Yosef. And already the Gemara (Megilla 16a-b) draws an association between the Purim story and the story of Yosef, explaining that Yosef gave Binyamin five changes of clothing (Bereshit 45:22) as an allusion to Binyamin's descendant, Mordechai, who received five royal garments upon being appointed Ahashverosh's vizier (Ester 8:15). Another early source for this connection sheds light on one of the fundamental lessons of the Purim miracle. The Midrash comments that the Jews were deserving of annihilation because of the sin of Mechirat Yosef – the sale of Yosef as a slave by his brothers. Right after the brothers thew Yosef into a pit, they sat down to eat a meal ("Va'yeshbu Le'echol Lehem" – Bereshit 37:25). G-d responded very harshly, the Midrash states, warning that in the future, Haman and Ahashverosh would sit down together for a banquet immediately after condemning the Jews to death ("Ve'ha'melech Ve'Haman Yashebu Li'shtot" – Ester 3:15). Just as the brothers callously ate after acting to kill Yosef, so did Ahashverosh and Haman enjoy a feast after issuing the edict ordering the murder of all the Jews in the kingdom. It seems that the plague of jealousy and strife that led the brothers to eliminate Yosef was prevalent also during the time of the Purim story. Then, too, the Jews were not getting along with one another. They envied, resented, competed with and fought with one another, rather than working together in harmony despite their differences. This is why Ester, after hearing of Haman's edict, instructed Mordechai, "Lech Kenos Et Kol Ha'Yehudim" – to bring all the Jews together (Ester 4:16). She understood full well the reason for this harsh decree – the fraternal strife among the Jews. In order to earn salvation, the Jews would need to cure this ill through Ahdut, unity, by joining together with mutual love, respect and concern. This is also why Mordechai and Ester later established that the commemoration of the Purim miracle must include efforts to strengthen the bonds between Jews. The Misva of Mishloah Manot requires sending gifts, and the obligation of Matanot La'ebyonim requires lending assistance to the needy. Moreover, the Purim feast is traditionally eaten in large gatherings, with friends and families coming together in love and joy, thereby increasing the Ahdut among the Jewish People. The celebration of the Purim miracle must include a reenactment of "Lech Kenos Et Kol Ha'Yehudim" – of the Jews' efforts to create greater unity and a greater sense of togetherness. This might explain an otherwise perplexing aspect of the story of Yosef and his brothers. When the brothers arrived in Egypt with Binyamin, Yosef had a feast prepared for them, and the Torah tells, "Va'yishtu Va'yishkeru Imo" – Yosef and brothers drank and even became inebriated (43:34). Why was this an occasion for drinking? The answer might be found in the previous words – which tell that Yosef gave Binyamin five times the amount of food that he gave the other brothers. Despite this display of favoritism, the other brothers felt no jealousy toward Binyamin. They were not bothered by the fact that he received special treatment. Years earlier, they resented their father's preferential treatment toward Yosef, to the extent that they drove Yosef from the family, but they had now rectified this failing. They had reached the point where they felt no jealousy toward one another. This feast, then, laid the foundations for the story of Purim, when the Jews rectified the ill of baseless hatred and petty jealousy, resulting in their salvation which is celebrated through festive drinking. One of the central, overarching obligations on this day is to work to strengthen our Ahdut, the unity among the Jewish People. And our models for this process are Yosef's brothers, who learned from their mistake and grew to the point where they no longer harbored feelings of resentment and jealousy toward each other. We need to follow their example, and make the decision to look lovingly at our fellow Jews, to stop feeling jealous of those who seem to have more, to stop resenting those who do things differently than we do, to stop disliking people for silly reasons. Purim is the time to rise above the pettiness, the childishness and the competitiveness, to see the good in our fellow Jews instead of looking for reasons to look down at them. We will then be worthy of great miracles like those performed for our ancestors in Persia, Amen. Thu, 26 Feb 2026 00:01:11 GMT Rabbi Eli Mansour Rabbi Eli Mansour No Insights into the Weekly Parasha - Brought to you by itorah.com Insights into the Weekly Parasha - Brought to you by itorah.com Parasha, Parsha, Sedra, Chumash 4f93b10c-a6b7-af00-6dd3-05a008ef1e7b Parashat Teruma begins with G-d's command, "Ve'yikhu Li Teruma" – that Beneh Yisrael should donate materials toward the construction of the Mishkan. Surprisingly, Hashem here commands that the people donate toward this project with the word "Ve'yikhu," which means "They shall take." Instead of saying that the people should give, that they should donate, Hashem commands them to "take" a donation. This highlights a basic truism about charity – that by giving, we receive. When we give charity, when we donate toward a worthy cause, we receive far more than we give. We lose nothing, and we gain an incalculable amount. The merits earned through charitable donations are worth far more, and are infinitely more secure, than any financial asset. The rewards are both inestimable and guaranteed. But this understanding of the word "Ve'yikhu" actually runs even deeper. The Gemara in Masechet Kiddushin speaks of an exceptional case where a bride can be betrothed by giving, instead of receiving. The Halachic mechanism of Kiddushin, whereby a woman becomes formally betrothed to a man, requires the man to give the woman something of value. Of course, this is commonly done by giving the bride a ring. Normally, Kiddushin cannot be effectuated in the opposite manner, through the bride giving something to the groom. If the bride wishes to give the groom a gift, this must not be done as part of the Huppa ceremony, because it must be perfectly clear that the betrothal takes effect through the groom giving the ring to the bride. However, the Gemara establishes that if the groom is a distinguished person, such as a member of the royal court, then his bride can become betrothed to him through her giving him a gift. The reason, the Gemara explains, is that when an ordinary person gives a gift to a person of distinction, the giver derives great benefit by the recipient's acceptance of the gift. The satisfaction that comes from the distinguished person's consent to receive the gift outweighs the value of the gift. Therefore, if the groom is a man of distinction, the bride can become betrothed through the benefit she receives by the groom's acceptance of her gift, because by giving, the bride is actually receiving. This Halacha sheds new light on the command "Ve'yikhu Li Teruma." When we donate for a Misva purpose, we are, in essence, donating to Hashem, as it were. We are so-to-speak giving something to Hashem. Whether it's assisting a family in need, contributing to a charity fund, or supporting a synagogue of yeshiva, we are giving a gift to Hashem – who is, quite obviously, far more "distinguished" than any dignitary or prominent figure. And in this sense, we receive when we give. Anytime we have the opportunity to donate, we are given the privilege of giving a gift to Hashem. This is a privilege we should celebrate – and an opportunity that we should eagerly and enthusiastically seize as often as we can. Thu, 19 Feb 2026 00:01:11 GMT Rabbi Eli Mansour Rabbi Eli Mansour No Insights into the Weekly Parasha - Brought to you by itorah.com Insights into the Weekly Parasha - Brought to you by itorah.com Parasha, Parsha, Sedra, Chumash 42df3ace-9c8c-78ff-f03f-c38b004bf87e Parashat Mishpatim is well known for its presentation of a series of civil laws. These laws govern interpersonal relations, mainly matters related to conflicts over money or property. Speaking to Moshe, Hashem introduces this series of laws by saying, "Ve'eleh Ha'mishpatim Asher Tasim Lifnehem" – "And these are the statutes that you shall place before them." Rashi, citing the Gemara, comments that the word "Lifnehem" ("before them") implies "Lifnehem Ve'lo Lifneh Goyim" – these laws were to be presented specifically to Beneh Yisrael, and not to other peoples. Of course, we know that all the Torah's laws were given specifically to Beneh Yisrael, and not to the other nations. It seems that Rashi seeks to emphasize the fundamental difference between the Torah's system of civil law and that of the other nations. Although all civilized societies devise and implement an effective judicial system, there is something distinct about our system of law, and this is the implication of the word "Lifnehem" – that the special code of law presented in this Parasha is unique to the Jewish People. Among the unique features of the Torah legal system is the standardization and uniformity of its penal code. In other systems, the judge is authorized to determine the punishment for a convicted offender, and to take into account the offender's condition and the circumstances surrounding his crime. Thus, for example, if an impoverished man who had been out of work for years was caught stealing, the judge will issue a much lighter sentence than he would if a multimillionaire stole the same amount. When a person commits an offense, there might be mitigating circumstances that lessen its severity, or circumstances that make the act especially cruel. Most legal systems empower the judge to take all these factors into account when deciding the appropriate punishment. The Torah, however, establishes punishments that must be administered equally to all people convicted of the given crime. The financial condition of neither the perpetrator nor the victim affects the sentencing. The punishments assigned by the Torah for particular crimes are applied without considering the broader context of the act. The reason is that no human being can truly determine the severity of another person's behavior. Even if we know the background, the context, and the circumstances surrounding the incident, there is so much more that we do not know. We will never know what kind of pressures and lures contributed to an offender's decision to commit the act, nor can we know the full scope of a criminal's malicious intent. Only Hashem can determine the true extent of a crime, and the precise punishment that the offender deserves. For this reason, the verse says in Tehillim (82:1), "Elokim Nisav Ba'adat Kel, Be'kereb Elohim Yishpot" – Hashem is present in the courtroom when the judges try a case. Hashem is present because He is needed to determine what the judges are incapable of determining. The Torah establishes guidelines for the judges to follow, but we know that their decision will not necessarily result in the defendant receiving precisely what he deserves. Hashem's presence assures that He will make this happen, that He will do what the judges cannot do, that after the judges rule in accordance with Torah law, Hashem will see to it that justice is flawlessly and perfectly served. We must always remember how limited our vision and knowledge are, how little we know about other people. We might think we have the "whole story," but the truth is that we always know a very small part of the story. It is therefore foolish – not to mention unproductive – to cast judgment and reach conclusions about other people's conduct. This should be left to G-d, while we devote our attention to our own behavior, constantly striving to grow and improve. Thu, 12 Feb 2026 00:01:11 GMT Rabbi Eli Mansour Rabbi Eli Mansour No Insights into the Weekly Parasha - Brought to you by itorah.com Insights into the Weekly Parasha - Brought to you by itorah.com Parasha, Parsha, Sedra, Chumash 411a19c2-6bff-7999-43ec-fda4a16c6dfa The opening verses of Parashat Yitro tell of Yitro's arrival at Beneh Yisrael's camp. Yitro, Moshe's father-in-law, had been a pagan priest, but then recognized the truth of monotheism. He now took the next step, and joined Beneh Yisrael as they encamped at the foot of Mount Sinai. Rashi comments that Yitro was motivated to join the nation upon hearing of two events: Keri'at Yam Suf (the splitting of the sea), and the war against Amalek. It seems difficult to understand why the war with Amalek contributed to Yitro's decision. The splitting of the sea was, of course, an extraordinary miracle, an event that was heard throughout the ancient world and led all the nations to look at Beneh Yisrael with awe. It is understandable that this miracle inspired Yitro to come and join Beneh Yisrael. But how did the war against Amalek have this kind of effect? What about this event inspired Yitro? One answer is that Yitro was struck by the drastic decline that Beneh Yisrael experienced from the event of Keri'at Yan Suf to the war against Amalek. The Sages teach that at the time of Keri'a Yam Suf, every member of the nation, even the most unlearned among them, reached a certain level of prophecy. The nation at that moment rose to the greatest heights. Just several weeks later, however, when they found themselves without water, their faith was shaken, and they started asking, "Is G-d in our midst or not?" (Shemot 17:7). It was in response to this lack of faith that Hashem led Amalek to attack Beneh Yisrael. Yitro saw how the people so quickly fell from the stature of prophets to the point where they could actually question whether Hashem was with them. This rapid decline is what prompted Yitro to join Beneh Yisrael. The Gemara teaches that Torah is the "antidote" to the Yeser Ha'ra (evil inclination). Sinful tendencies are part of the human condition; as long as a person is alive, he is going to tempted by some lure, by some human weakness, by one or several of the many negative traits with which people are created. And in order to withstand these inclinations, we need to immerse ourselves in Torah. Therefore, when Yitro saw how fast people are capable of falling, he made the decision to join Beneh Yisrael, so he can access the Torah, the "antidote" to the Yeser Ha'ra and protect himself from spiritual decline. Rav Yosef Salant (Jerusalem, 1885-1981) offers a different explanation of Rashi's comment. He writes that after the miracle of the sea, many people throughout the world attributed this event to Moshe Rabbenu. Rather than recognize the existence of a single, omnipotent Creator, they instead concluded that Moshe was a superior sorcerer who succeeded in defeating the Egyptians through his magical prowess. Yitro, who was well-versed in all the various forms of ancient paganism, including sorcery, likewise suspected that it was Moshe who split the sea by lifting his staff over the water. Beneh Yisrael's miraculous victory against Amalek, however, was clearly not brought about by Moshe. At the time of the battle, Moshe stood at a distance, on a hill overlooking the battlefield. And when the people looked heavenward, they received Hashem's assistance and defeated the Amalekites. This event showed that the splitting of the sea was wrought not by Moshe, but by an all-powerful G-d, and this motivated Yitro to come join Beneh Yisrael. There might also be a third interpretation. In the Book of Debarim (25:18), Moshe describes Amalek's attack with the word "Karecha." The Sages explained this term as a derivative of the word "Kar" – "cool." After the miracle of the sea, Beneh Yisrael were feared throughout the world. The Rabbis drew a comparison to a tub filled with scalding hot water, that nobody dared touch. When Amalek launched their attack, they were like a person who jumped into the tub of boiling hot water – he suffered bad burns, but cooled the water for anyone else who wished to bathe afterward. Amalek was defeated, but this battle had the effect of "cooling" Beneh Yisrael, of exposing their vulnerability. Beneh Yisrael now appeared far less fearsome, and no longer seemed invincible. Yitro saw the grave Hillul Hashem – defamation of Hashem's Name – caused by Amalek's attack. The awe and admiration that the world felt toward Beneh Yisrael after the splitting of the sea were now gone. And Yitro understood that the only way to rectify a Hillul Hashem is by creating a Kiddush Hashem – a glorification of Hashem's Name. He therefore decided to join Beneh Yisrael. As a respected and wealthy public figure, his arrival would "make the news," and become widely known. People all over would hear that a prominent former pagan cleric had recognized the truth of the Jewish faith and decided to join Beneh Yisrael's ranks. This would repair, at least somewhat, the damage caused by Amalek's attack. And thus Yitro's decision was driven by these two events – the splitting of the sea and Amalek's attack, as he sought to restore the respect for Beneh Yisrael that was achieved by the miracle of Keri'at Yam Suf. Thu, 05 Feb 2026 00:01:11 GMT Rabbi Eli Mansour Rabbi Eli Mansour No Insights into the Weekly Parasha - Brought to you by itorah.com Insights into the Weekly Parasha - Brought to you by itorah.com Parasha, Parsha, Sedra, Chumash