Appreciating Achdus
Election
fever is spreading across Eretz Yisroel. Their campaign season lasts but a few
weeks, the people vote, and then the parties try to cobble together a
coalition. The resulting government lasts until the next scheduled election or
until the prime minster calls for new ones, whichever comes first.
The current
election was called by Prime Minister Binyomin Netanyahu, whose popularity was
at a high point and sought to capitalize on it to keep himself in power for
another four years. The calculation was a correct one, but due to hubris and
missteps, he is not likely to emerge half as powerful as he thought he would.
There is also
serious concern that he will seek to form his next government with parties to
his left and freeze the religious parties out of the coalition. Even if he does
bring them in, if the poll numbers are correct, the religious parties may not
be satisfied with what they are offered. Not only are positions of power, and
thus the ability to service the religious constituency in jeopardy, but the
very real threat of drafting yeshiva bochurim into the army hangs over
the Olam HaTorah.
With this as
the backdrop, you would imagine that the frum community is coalescing
around the parties that represent it and working to ensure that they receive
maximum representation so that they will be in a better position to negotiate
for their concerns and be able to prevent anything disastrous from occurring.
And you’d be wrong.
On a recent
trip to Eretz Yisroel, a friend was walking through the alleyways
that form the Bucharim Shuk. On a narrow road, he passed an assortment
of small shops where the owners ply their wares, waiting for customers to come
by and purchase their spices, pickles from large metal cans, rotating shwarma,
chicken, meat, fruits and vegetables. There was one tiny stall that caught my
friend’s attention. There was really nothing that caused the store to stand
out. It was typical of the duchanim seen all over Yerushalayim. One
wonders how they stay in business selling old challah covers and dusty Kiddush
bechers alongside shoelaces, glasses and other small odds and ends.
The
proprietor of the shop was a Sefardi man, with a flowing white beard and
wise eyes, who seemed as ancient as his wares. He sat there reciting
Tehillim.
Next to him
was a small handwritten sign. On top, in large letters to catch the attention
of anyone entering the store, were the words, “Vayidom Aharon.” They
were followed by a short message, which read: “Since we are now in the
election season and sometimes people who talk about politics end up talking
about talmidei chachomim and rabbonim, and sometimes disparagingly, I have
accepted upon myself not to discuss the election. I appreciate your
understanding. If you come into this store, please respect this kabbolah.”
There are all
types of signs wherever you go in Yerushalayim, but this one was different. Too
bad it is the only one of its kind.
Eretz Yisroel
is a tiny country, surrounded by enemies who seek its destruction. The Iranian
threat has dominated headlines for several years now, as its radical,
irrational leaders pursue a nuclear weapon with the ability to exterminate
Israel. Jews and freedom-lovers the world over fear that Iran is on the
precipice of realizing its ambition and have serious concerns about the safety
of the citizens of Eretz Yisroel.
Rav Michel
Stern, a prominent boki in niglah and nistar in
Yerushalayim about whom we have previously written, has recently been telling
people that Iran is not what we should be worrying about. He says that the lack
of achdus in our camp is much more dangerous than what is going on in
Iran. Peirud, division, he says, is a more lethal threat than Iran.
People say and
do the worst things in order to get elected and earn themselves some power.
There is one politician who is running a TV campaign bashing yeshivos
and kollelim. He says that the Rambam would endorse his view. Not
only that, but the punch line of his commercial is, “the Rambam would
vote for me and you should too!”
When Eretz
Yisroel is facing external and internal threats, it is time for Jews to come
together under one banner to confront the challenges that must be overcome. Yeshivos
are being targeted by politicians from the left and the right, who make no
secret of their intention to draft yeshiva bochurim. There is so much at
stake in the coming election. It would behoove those who treasure Torah and lomdei
Torah to reaffirm their commitment to achieving unity.
Achdus is something we always talk about. Teachers teach about it,
public speakers speak about it, and writers write about it. Somehow, it sounds
so nice in speeches and in theory, but, in actuality, it appears to be elusive.
What can we do to bring about change and draw people closer together?
The Ramban
teaches that one of the mitzvos that were given to commemorate Yetzias
Mitzrayim is the commandment of petter chamor, redeeming a
firstborn donkey. This gives rise to an obvious question: What does petter
chamor have to do with Yetzias Mitzrayim?
Chazal (Bechoros 5b) provide the explanation: “Why are
firstborn donkeys different than firstborn horses or firstborn camels? First,
the Torah decreed it so. Second, they helped Am Yisroel during Yetzias
Mitzrayim, for there was not a single Jew who did not have 90 Libyan
donkeys loaded with the silver and gold of Mitzrayim.”
In other
words, the Torah gave us the mitzvah of petter chamor as a way of
expressing appreciation to these beasts of burden for the help they provided Klal
Yisroel during the exodus from Mitzrayim. A bechor of a chamor
attains the kedushah of a cheftzah shel mitzvah, because two
thousand years ago, animals that had no bechirah were used to
transport Jewish possessions out of slavery.
The chamor
is not the only animal to which we express appreciation for its conduct at the
time of Yetzias Mitzrayim. The dog also gets its due. The posuk (Shemos
22:30) states that meat that is unfit for consumption should be thrown to the
dogs. Rashi, commenting on this posuk, explains that the Torah
specifies to give the meat to dogs as a reward for not barking at the Jews when
they left Egypt. Dogs are thus forever remembered for their momentary
benevolence centuries ago.
Another
lesson of hakoras hatov is learned from the fact that Aharon
Hakohein performed the act that brought about the first three makkos of dom,
tzefardei’a and kinnim. Moshe couldn’t turn the Nile’s water into
blood, because the Nile protected him when his mother cast him there following
his premature birth. For the same reason, he couldn’t strike the water to bring
about the makkah of tzefardei’a. Aharon, not Moshe, struck the
dirt in order to bring about the makkah of kinnim, because when
Moshe smote the Egyptian and hid the body in the sand, the sand prevented that
act from being discovered.
It seems
quite extraordinary that we are commanded to mark our historic indebtedness to
donkeys of centuries ago by performing a token of gratitude to their
descendants through petter chamor. The notion that hakoras hatov
obligates one to feel and show gratitude to inanimate objects is because by
acting in that manner we become more perfect beings.
The reason
this perplexes us is because most of us view hakoras hatov as belonging
in the domain of bein odom lachaveiro, applicable from one person to
another. “You did me a favor, so I become obligated to thank you.”
However, from
these examples brought in the parshiyos of Yetzias Mitzrayim,
which we are currently reading each week, we are introduced to a deeper
dimension of the obligation of hakoras hatov. Showing gratitude is not
just a social obligation and a nice thing to do. Gratefulness should become an
integral part of our personalities. Whether it was water or dirt or an animal
from which we derived benefit so long ago, as grandchildren of those yotzei
Mitzrayim, we are duty-bound to acknowledge that kindness.
The way we
act towards others impacts our souls and proclaims what kind of people we are.
If we are cognizant and appreciative of others, it helps us. We become better
people and can work to achieve achdus and accomplish much more with our
lives.
Hashem
created human beings as being unable to see success if we work only for
ourselves. It is only as a community and as a member of a group that we can
endure. From the time we are born until the very end, we can only survive if we
are connected to other people. As infants, we need everything to be done for
us. Even as we grow and become more independent, most everything that we
require for our daily existence is provided by others.
Arrogant,
unappreciative people refuse to recognize that as great as they are, without
the contributions of others, they would be hungry, dirty, unclothed, unloved,
homeless, illiterate and without much to live for. Everything that we have and
everything that we know is only because someone took the trouble to teach us
and equip us with the essentials of life and good health.
There really
is no way one can be totally independent and live a meaningful life. Those who
cause peirud engage in anti-social behavior that is not only detrimental
to the broader community, but also to themselves.
In order to
maintain our humility and mentchlichkeit, the Torah gives us many mitzvos
to ingrain into our psyches the awareness of this world’s abundant blessings
and the goodness with which Hashem showers us.
By working on
perfecting our middah of hakoras hatov, we come to appreciate the
good in others and the benefits we derive from each other. If we look at the
bigger picture and see the good, then we are able to overlook the pettiness
that divides us and unite, creating the achdus we need to be able to
work together to combat those who seek our demise.
A few years
ago, the Tolna Rebbe of Yerushalayim led a group of chassidim on
a trip to Eastern Europe, where they davened at the kevorim of
the admorim of the Tolna dynasty and other tzaddikim.
On the
airplane, the Rebbe addressed the chassidim and said that in
generations past, a chossid’s trip to his rebbe usually involved
enduring long weeks away from home, dangerous travel conditions, and
deprivation. Thus, by the time the chossid arrived at the rebbe,
he had become purified by virtue of the journey’s hardships. By the time he was
at the rebbe’s doorstep, he was a suitable keili for a brocha.
The Tolna
Rebbe quoted the Bais Yisroel of Ger, who said that today we no longer
have the cleansing process that the journeys of old provided. With the
invention of the airplane and convenient travel, a chossid can traverse
the globe in comfort, arriving at his rebbe without forgoing any
comforts to which he is accustomed.
The Tolna
Rebbe told the people traveling with him that there is still a source of merit
available for those who joined the chartered flight, with catered meals and
pre-planned hotel stays.
“There are
organizers and askonim who worked very hard arranging the logistics of
this trip. Inevitably, some of you will be unhappy with your seats or
accommodations. Perhaps the meals won’t work out and you’ll be left hungry.
Don’t say a word! Be mevateir. Make our interactions with others
positive and uplifting for them, leaving people with a good feeling whenever we
can.
“It sounds
easy,” said the Rebbe, “but it’s not easy at all. When there’s one
portion of supper left at the end of a long day on the road and two people who
haven’t eaten, when someone in the room will need to sleep on the lumpy couch,
when there is only one luggage cart remaining and a pile of heavy suitcases, it
will require strength to remain easygoing and not complain. But you can do it,
and by acting that way, we, too, in our generation, can merit approaching the kevorim
of the admorim cleansed.”
The Tolna
Rebbe’s message is important and relevant. Though we are blessed with plenty, boruch
Hashem, and we don’t face real hunger or privation, we all have many daily
opportunities to conduct ourselves in ways that can cleanse and purify us and
our communities.
No matter
where we are and what we are trying to accomplish, it is crucial that we remain
focused on the goal - not the immediate victory, but the ultimate one. Through
unity, we can achieve more and be more effective.
The posuk in
Devorim (7:7) tells us that Hashem didn’t choose us because of our great
numbers, because, in fact, we are the smallest among the nations. Rav Moshe
Shapiro asks why the posuk assumes that we would think that Hashem’s love
for us is based on our size. We are obviously a small nation. He answers
with a moshol.
Imagine a
person walking along a path. Another person joins and begins walking alongside
the first, so now there are two people on that path. Then a third fellow joins,
and then another and another. Each person is walking along the same path as a
means to get to a certain point, but their goals are different. They are headed
to different places. The fact that they are walking together on the same path
fails to unify them. They are walking side by side, but each one is a man to
himself. They are individuals, not a group. There may be a thousand of them,
but if you were to count them, it would be one and one and one, not one plus
one plus one.
When a legion
of soldiers marches into battle, even if the soldiers aren’t physically near
each other and enter from various paths, they are united by a shared ideal.
They are devoted to the same flag and general. There might be fewer of them
than there are people on our imaginary path, but their unity gives them
strength. They look out for each other, care for each other, and protect each
other. There may only be two hundred of them, but when you count them, they are
one plus one plus one.
This is how
the posuk continues: “Rather, out of Hashem’s love for you... did He
take you out...to bring you to the Land…”
We are not
the largest in numbers, but we are the most in the sense that our numbers
combine and add up, because we are united by a common legacy and goal.
If we are to
bring about change at the ballot box in Eretz Yisroel, we have to figure
out how to work together as a united group with common goals, not as separate
individuals who walk on the same path. In Israel as in America, in order to
properly confront the specter of new gezeiros that threaten our freedoms
to practice Yiddishkeit as we have become accustomed, we need to
appreciate our real strength.
With rising
taxes, skyrocketing healthcare costs, prickly secretarial picks and prospects
for congressional stalemates on economic issues, Americans are being reminded
that elections have consequences. If the religious parties do not receive
enough support and Netanyahu is able to form a coalition with the parties of
the left, there may be terrible consequences for many of the causes we hold
dear.
This past
Sunday, the Rubashkin family completed the achdus Sefer Torah
that was written as a zechus for Shalom Mordechai ben Rivka. The Sefer
Torah was paid for by members of Klal Yisroel of all ages and
stripes who sent in sums large and small for the Achdus Sefer Torah campaign.
The siyum was celebrated by a small group comprised of Lubavitcher chassidim,
Satmar chassidim and a couple of Litvaks at the Rubashkin home in
Monsey. It is hoped that in the zechus of the achdus that
the Rubashkin case has engendered, coupled with the Sefer Torah, tefillos,
tzedakah and maasim tovim performed on Shalom Mordechai’s behalf,
he will be zocheh to be reunited with his family bekarov.
Klal
Yisroel must also join b’achdus to
combat New York City’s assault on bris milah. Though initial
efforts to protect the ancient tradition failed, we remain focused on the goal
and undeterred.
May we merit
witnessing the growth of achdus and the successes it engenders.
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