Stand Strong

By Rabbi Pinchos Lipschutz

At the conclusion of Parshas Balak, we learn that following his failed bid to curse the Jewish people, as Bilam departed, he connived for Moav’s young women to entice the Bnei Yisroel to sin. A leader of shevet Shimon was sinning with the daughter of a leading Midyanite in front of the Jewish people. Nobody knew what to do.

Hashem announced that He would send a plague as punishment for the ongoing decadence, when Pinchos arose from the crowd.

There was only one person from all of Bnei Yisroel who had not lost himself in the mess. Pinchos was the only person who remembered the halacha and knew that because of that, it was up to him to decide whether he should carry out the punishment the couple deserved. With great bravery, he grabbed a spear and did what he had to do, ignoring the dangers of personal peril.

By doing so, he put an end to the devastating plague and brought a swift conclusion to yet another inglorious chapter in our people’s history.

Parshas Pinchos opens with Hashem telling Moshe Rabbeinu, “Pinchos, the son of Elozor, the son of Aharon the kohein, turned back G-d’s wrath from the Bnei Yisroel with his act of kana’us, and He did not destroy the Bnei Yisroel in His anger. Therefore, say [the following]: Hashem is bestowing upon Pinchos His covenant of peace. He and his children who follow him shall be privileged with the covenant of kehunah forever.”

By following the dictates he had been taught by Moshe Rabbeinu and intervening, Pinchos merited the blessing of eternal peace. Because the man of peace is not necessarily the person who sits back passively and does nothing. The people who sit on the sidelines weeping as evil rears its ugly head and seems to triumph might believe they are promoting peace by not getting involved. In fact, they are encouraging evil.

Pinchos is deemed worthy of bearing the torch of kehunah and carrying on the tradition of Aharon Hakohein to be an oheiv shalom verodeif shalom, because he put aside his personal ambitions and intervened. Pinchos was given the eternal blessing of peace because he made peace possible amongst Bnei Yisroel by exterminating evil.

Pinchos halted the plague that had already killed 24,000 Jews because he had the moral courage and clarity to act when others were confounded and immobilized.

He didn’t let popular opinion deter him from slaying those who brazenly defied the Torah’s authority. He knew that an oheiv shalom verodeif shalom sometimes has to act courageously, even if his actions invite misunderstanding and recrimination.

Pinchos knew that the cause of peace is advanced through remaining loyal to Torah. Shalom is achieved by pursuing shleimus, even if that sometimes involves going after the powerful and popular while jeopardizing your own career.

Shalom is rooted in shleimus. When everything is correct, complete and whole, it is possible to also have shalom. If you are lacking in shleimus, then you cannot have shalom.

Torah is the absolute truth. The world was created with the Torah, and the Torah serves as the ultimate gauge in defining our behavior. If we stay true to the Torah, then we will be blessed with peace, for we have followed the guide of personal conduct by which the world was created.

People who conduct themselves contrary to the wishes of the Creator as expressed in the Torah will sink in the swamp of their own hedonism and egoism. Their actions and pursuits will lead them to sadness and deception. They will never achieve shleimus.

Pinchos was singled out as being worthy of following in the footsteps of Aharon Hakohein, who exemplified the pursuit of shalom through the service of Hashem.

Misfortunes transpire on a regular basis. We wonder what can be done to end the suffering. Charlatans arise from among us and pronounce that they have the solutions to our problems. Acting as if they were prophets of old, they single out certain actions and activities for people to follow or correct. If only we would listen to them, they claim, there would be salvation. Others seek to fight battles of decades gone by, without being realistic or honest about today’s ills.

Innocent people seeking direction listen to their smooth talk, and instead of finding salvation, they slide into the abyss of malaise, distraction and lack of balance brought on by the glib words of people who speak with an overall lack of responsibility.

Some are fawning and others deliver fire and brimstone, but the end is the same, because their admonitions are not rooted in Torah, halacha and mesorah. They serve to draw people away from what will help them and add to the confusion and emptiness people feel in their hearts.

Perhaps what we need are more people like Pinchos. We need people whose loyalty to Torah compels them to act properly in all situations. Such people bring shleimus to ailing, wayward people, providing them with direction, proper thought, and a path that will lead them to shalom and satisfaction.

Despotic rulers count on the passivity and fear of the masses. Despots are experts in playing the game of brinkmanship and taking advantage of people’s reluctance to rise up against injustice, even in self-defense.

In our daily lives, we also confront people who abuse their positions as well as our own good natures to serve their selfish ends. We must have the fortitude to stand up to them in the tradition of Pinchos. We can only rid our community of injustice and corruption if we have selfless leaders who forgo their own interests to bring about shleimus for our people.

The Torah tells the story of Pinchos as a lesson to people of inner greatness to conquer the urge to remain passive. The Torah demonstrates that Hashem respects people who are giborim, people who are of fine character, but display strength when necessary. In order to be a good Jew, to be a shomer Torah umitzvos, it is not sufficient to be docile. Often times, you must be strong, a gibor with tremendous strength of character.

Rav Ozer Yonah Kushner told me about his grandfather, who lived in Williamsburg during the time Rav Elchonon Wasserman Hy”d was in America before World War II. Because he had a car, Rav Elchonon stayed in his home and he had the honor of driving the great gaon from place to place.

Once, his grandfather, Mr. Zimmerman, was driving Rav Elchonon someplace and there was another passenger in the car, Rav Yasher, a Litvishe gaon who led a congregation in New York City.

Rav Yasher asked Rav Elchonon a halachic question, but Rav Elchonon didn’t want to answer.

“I have a man in my shul,” said Rav Yasher, “who learned in yeshivos in Lita before coming here. He came to me and told me that he could not find a job that didn’t involve chillul shabbos, so every Shabbos he goes to work. He believes that he is permitted to work on Shabbos, because he has no other way to provide for his family.

“So, this man, as well intentioned as he may be, is a mechallel Shabbos befarhesya, but it is the only aveirah he does. He observes all the other laws of Shabbos. He told me that he makes his own wine, which he uses for Kiddush, and he shechts his own chickens.

“The man came to ask me a question: Since he is a mechallel Shabbos befarhesya, does that render his wine yayin nesech and forbidden? And does it render his chickens neveilos and unsuitable for consumption?”

[The Shulchan Aruch (Yoreh De’ah 2:5) rules that one who publicly desecrates Shabbos is not eligible to shecht animals for human consumption.]

Rav Elchonon did not want to answer, but finally he did. He said that since the man didn’t consider himself a mechallel Shabbos and only did what he felt he had to in order to support his family, though he was wrong, it didn’t make him a mumar lechol haTorah kulah.

When Chazal say that someone who is not a Shabbos observer is viewed as if he disobeys all the laws of the Torah (see Eiruvin 69a, “Eizeh hu Yisroel mumar, zeh hamechallel Shabbosos befarhesya”), Chazal are not saying testimony that it is always that way. Rather, they are saying that it is usually that way. It’s only an umdena.

This is because (Tosafos, Sanhedrin 78b, d”h Lo Haya Yodeia) one who publicly desecrates Shabbos is declaring that he does not believe in maaseh bereishis, that Hashem created the world.

“This man, however,” said Rav Elchonon, “clearly believes in maaseh bereishis. Therefore, for him, he is permitted to eat chickens that he slaughtered and drink the wine he has made, but as far as everyone else is concerned, he is a mechallel Shabbos befarhesya. Thus, his wine is yayin nesech and his chickens are neveilos.”

This story has never been printed before and should not be relied upon as a halachic ruling. I am citing it to show what happens when a Jew is not a gibor.

It is not for us to judge the previous generations and how they dealt with their nisyonos and temptations. What we can see is that the Jews who were strong and left their jobs on Friday knowing that on Monday they will have been replaced, somehow were able to scrape together a livelihood, whether by engaging in peddling or some other type of self-employment. They remained loyal to Shabbos and Torah, giving themselves a fighting chance for their children to be religious.

The Jews who were not giborim eventually became lost to the Jewish people. They were starving. They froze during the winter and roasted during the summer. What, you may ask, do we want from them? The answer is that we want for them to have learned the lesson taught by Pinchos to be a gibor. If you want to be a Torah Jew, if you want your faith to survive, if you want to be able to properly observe halacha, you must be a gibor. Anything less won’t do.

For all time, Pinchos stands as a beacon to weak people seeking to compromise, equivocate and rationalize. “Stand up,” he says. “Be strong,” he proclaims. “Be a gibor.”

Popcorn

By Rabbi Pinchos Lipschutz

Bolok, the son of Tzipor, saw what the approaching nation of Israel had done to its enemies and those who stood in its path as it headed to the Holy Land, and he became worried. Bolok did not want to face the same end as his neighbors, who had not prepared for the invasion. He noted that the Jews had defeated mighty nations, which left him with only one possible avenue of victory. He would have to curse them.

Bolok conspired to convince the well-known sorcerer Bilam to curse the Jewish people. The Torah recounts the conversations between the messengers of King Bolok and Bilam. From reading the parsha, it would seem to us that Bilam was reluctant to go, even turning down wealth and prestige, until he could convince Hashem to support him in his mission. It seems that Bilam was in all ways decent. That is, until he begins squabbling with his donkey, but that’s a different story.

Yet, when we study Rashi and other meforshim, right off the bat, they portray Bilam as an evil person.

How are we to differentiate between a righteous person and an evil one? What is the difference between a pagan prophet, such as Bilam, and a Jewish prophet, such as Moshe and the others with whom we are familiar?

The difference is that the Jewish prophets are motivated by love and always seek to improve the condition of man. Pagan prophets, such as Bilam, are motivated by hate and spite. They seek to curse and destroy man (Akeidas Yitzchok, 82).

The Mishnah in Pirkei Avos (5:22) delineates the difference between the students of Avrohom and the students of Bilam. A good eye, a humble spirit and a meek soul are indications of Avrohom’s influence. An evil eye, an arrogant spirit and a greedy soul indicate a student of Bilam.

It is interesting that the Mishnah does not discuss the differences between Avrohom Avinu and Bilam Harasha themselves. Instead, Chazal delineate the differences between their students.

Rav Yechezkel of Kuzmir explained that while it may have been possible to be fooled by Bilam and his demeanor, a study of his students and followers reveals the truth about the man and his goals.

Often, purveyors of sheker will use some emes as a means of gaining credibility and spreading their messages, making it difficult to tell apart the genuine from the phony. With some patience, the intentions of the leader become obvious. Avrohom became “Avinu,” spawning a nation of rachmonim, bayshonim and gomlei chassodim, paragons of decency and virtue. Bilam became the role model of their antagonists, the hero of those governed by ayin ra’ah, ruach govoah, nefesh rechovah, pettiness, greediness of soul and arrogance.

The Mishnah is teaching us to ignore what the leaders say and how they present themselves, and to instead look at the effects of their words and actions. They may proclaim that they are all about peace and love, but beware if their actions lead to machlokes and hate.

The prophet whom Hashem gifted to the nations quickly became enamored with himself and his singular ability. Since he was not a student of Torah, his selfish characteristics overcame him and guided all his actions.

Thus, the Rambam (Moreh Nevuchim 2:40) advises that the way to tell whether a person is a genuine prophet and not a phony who has a glib ability with words, is by judging his character. A novi who is sent by Hashem to convey a message will be a person who is like He who sent him. He will be kind, gracious, loving and concerned about the people’s benefit. One who hatefully preaches destruction and is an egotistical sadist cannot be a faithful messenger of a loving G-d.

A novi seeks to deter the people from sinning and warns them of what will happen to them if they persist in their sinful ways. A sorcerer goads the people to engage in sinful behavior and in ways that harm them. They seek to propagate hedonism, atheism and self-destructive behavior, just as Bilam did. The man who speaks for Hashem acts as He does, as the posuk states, “Tov Hashem lakol verachamov al kol maasov - Hashem is good to all and is merciful towards those He created.”

Rav Dovid Trenk was such a person, a messenger of Hashem who loved all and only sought to spread the love and bring people closer to the good. I never learned by him, but I came to know him from Torah Umesorah conventions. Every time he saw me, he would envelope me in his warm arms and kiss me, while offering encouragement to continue in my mission. It didn’t make a difference who was watching. He was never embarrassed to be mechazeik a fellow Jew.

Rav Yaakov Bender told me the following story about Rav Trenk. One Friday evening, Rav Trenk heard that three bochurim had gotten hold of a car and drove to watch a movie. He ran the few miles to the theater and found the boys in the darkness there. He said to them, “I just wanted you to know that the popcorn here is not kosher. You may not have known that.” Rav Dovid walked back home exhausted but exhilarated. He knew that those boys would never drive to a movie again on Shabbos.

That is the action of a novi Hashem. His love for the bochurim overtook every other emotion and sent him flying out the door to rescue them in the most loving way possible. He didn’t curse them or send them further away. He used the keilim Hashem gave him to bring them back.

Sadly, we know that not all of the products of our perfect chinuch turn out perfect. What do we do about it? We need more people like Rabbi Trenk. Now that he has passed away, we should all adopt some of his middos and love Jews as much as he did. Thousands of people, young and old, would benefit from a touch of love, a kind remark, a hug, a kiss, and knowing that theater popcorn is not kosher.

Klal Yisroel lost another novi emes with the passing of Rav Reuven Bauman of Norfolk, VA. Noting that a boy from his group was sinking in an ocean rip current, he jumped in after him to bring him to life. He was moser nefesh, giving up his life to save a student. He merited bringing all of Am Yisroel together in prayer, and Jews around the globe davened that the selfless rebbi would be found alive. Alas, it was not meant to be.

We don’t know the cheshbonos of Hashem, but one thing we do know: The neshomah of Rav Reuven Bauman is under the Kisei Hakavod with other great Yidden from throughout the centuries. He died fulfilling the greatest mitzvah, breathing life into another person, and that’s what a rebbi does every day.

Last week, I participated in the cheder firen of my grandson. Somebody asked me how I felt being there. I told him that I was inspired. “Inspired from sitting in a primary classroom? For real? I’d go out of my mind,” he said.

I explained to him that the sound of twenty-five precious Yiddishe kinderlach davening and saying Shema overwhelmed me. Pure, holy, innocent boys, shelo chotu velo poshu, being led by a phenomenal, loving rebbi, singing the words of tefillah in the traditional tune… Is there anything more precious?

“Mah tovu ohalecha Yaakov - How great are your homes, children of Yaakov,” chanted Bilam against his will. Since his time, until this very day, sorcerers arise to curse us and bring us down. With gifted oratory and faux righteousness, they reach out to us, trying to entice us to come over to their side. They ply us with temptations of allure, opulence, debauched provocation and seduction, and when that fails, they torture and kill us with every sadistic method known to man.

It is thanks to rabbeim such as Rav Dovid Trenk, Rav Reuven Bauman and yibodel lechaim tovim Rav Zvi Weissman of the Lakewood Cheder’s primary that the Bilams of the generations have failed. It is thanks to dedicated rabbeim and moros that our children excel and flourish in and out of the classroom.

But it’s a big world out there, and the children need not only the love of their teachers, but also of their parents and community. They need to be enveloped in a warm atmosphere where they feel welcome, appreciated and loved.

The rabbeim and moros also need appreciation for the heart and soul invested into our children daily.

If we want rabbeim who are disciples of Avrohom Avinu and children who excel in the middos of our forefathers, then we also must develop those wonderful attributes within ourselves and treat other people the way we want to be treated, expressing appreciation and letting them know that we cherish and treasure them.

Doing so will bring us closer to the day of which Bilam prophesized when he said, “Arenu velo atah,” referring to Dovid Hamelech, and “ashureno velo karov,” referring to the Melech Hamoshiach (Rambam, Hilchos Melochim 11:1) speedily in our day.

My Trip

By Rabbi Pinchos Lipschutz

I have been to Europe not more than 2 or 3 times in my life. While there is the urge to visit London and Paris and take in Prague and the other prominent cities of Europe, when I have a chance to travel somewhere of that distance, I choose to go to Eretz Yisroel.

I have a difficult time going for enjoyment to countries where my forefathers were tortured and killed in every brutal way known to man. I cannot enjoy myself on land soaked with Jewish blood. If that makes me small-minded or a myopic golus Yid, so be it. I can handle worse epithets.

I got into the blessed habit of going to Eretz Yisroel for Shavuos, but this year it didn’t work out, so I took a rain check and was there for ten days over the past two weeks, every day of which I felt at home. I had been there for four years learning in Brisk many years ago, and was back untold times, and each time I feel more at home than during the previous visit. Is it because the more I learn, the more I appreciate Eretz Yisroel? Maybe it is because the longer I spend in golus, the more I deplore it. Who knows. All I know is that if dirahs weren’t so expensive and I wouldn’t have to earn a living, I’d likely be spending more time there.

The land is ours, given to us by Hashem, and therefore it has a special draw. Wherever you go there, you feel as if you somehow belong there. And how can you not have that feeling? Hashem says, “Ki lecha etnenu.” He gave it to us. The whole thing. North, east, west and south. Not just a few corners in Yerushalayim and Bnei Brak.

The first day we were there, we traveled to Naharia in the north of the country, home to Rav Dovid Abuchatzeira, holy mystic and guide to many. I felt so much better after being welcomed by his wide, deep smile and receiving his brachos for myself and others. It was as if I had rid myself of a load. I met my friend Rav Natan Cheifetz there, and as we left the room, we smiled at each other. No words were necessary. We had seen him and been blessed. We felt different. Happy is the appropriate word, but also relieved. Relieved of what? Relieved of all the stuff that piles up on one’s heart, causing pressure and stress.

Does Rav Abuchatzeira have special inherited kochos or are they derived from him being a great tzaddik? I don’t think the people who flock to him care. All they know is that he is a rock of strength for them, a man who embodies otherworldly greatness and is always available to hear them out and bless them.

Down the road from him is a tiny store serving the best chumus in Israel. We stopped there and had our only meal for the day. Previously, when I went to Rav Abuchatzeira, we drove to his yeshiva, parked, met him and then returned to Yerushalayim. This time, we drove around the city and found it to be a gorgeous place built right on the ocean. No, I have no plans of moving there.

We went to visit excavations of the ancient Galil city known as Tzipori, home of Rabi Yehuda Hanosi and mentioned many times in Torah Shebaal Peh. It was fascinating to walk around and see so many things mentioned in Mishnayos and Medrashim right in front of us, dozens of centuries after the city fell into disuse. We saw homes built with basement mikvaos, and many of them are large mansions that fit all the descriptions of Rebbi’s home. You are overwhelmed when you imagine that it was at this exact location that Rebbi revolutionized Yahadus and compiled the Mishnayos upon which our lives are based.

It becomes more real than ever when you are in a house that was his in a town that was his, surrounded by remnants of things described in various Mishnayos, making it more meaningful than any drawing in the back of any set of Mishnayos.

In Tzipori, a mixed Jewish-Roman city, there were many of the problems that are evident today, yet Torah and Yiddishkeit flourished there and set a foundation – literally – for all of Judaism forever after.

Another fascinating facet of Tzipori is the mosaic floor of one of the local shuls. Laid out there on the floor are depictions of many of the foremost images in Jewish life, just as they were set down there in tile stone almost two thousand years ago.

Our adept guide, Meir Eisenman, took us to the kever of the Tanna Rav Yehuda Ben Bava located in Shefaram, a friendly, nearby Arab village. His tragic death is recounted in Gemara Sanhedrin (12b). Heroically, he ignored the order against giving semicha. When he was discovered, three hundred arrows were shot through him. The five musmachim survived and the laws of kenasos continued. The Romans didn’t permit a respectful burial and laid him to rest at the spot where they had killed him, on the side of the road.

How fortunate we are in our day to be able to safely study his Torah and that of the other Tannaim and Amoraim. We need to be cognizant of our opportunities and take advantage of them.

The past and the present came together in one day. If that does not strengthen your belief in the nitzchiyus, the endurance and the greatness of Am Yisroel, I don’t know what can.

Friday calls for the obligatory walk through Geulah and Meah Shearim. Each time I’m there, I find new things that I hadn’t noticed during previous walks there. Each time, I am once again amazed by the beauty of Yerushalayim and its people. As many times as I go there, I never fail to chance upon interesting characters and beautiful children. Their chein is out of this world, their chochmah the product of centuries of genes steeped in Torah and little else.

What a mechayah to watch the children go home for Shabbos with their pekelach and parsha sheets. I can just stand there and watch them as they smile and cajole each other, walking hand in hand down the sidewalk to their humble homes.

You don’t have to look for stories. Stories look for you and find you if your eyes and heart are open.

Shabbos in Yerushalayim is like no other place. No matter where you find yourself, you feel that you are on a higher plane.

The Kosel is a magnet for Klal Yisroel and our prayers. People flock there from all over, seeking out the Shechinah, for we know that despite all that has befallen our people, Hashem waits there for us. No matter where we are, we face that spot when we daven three times a day. Imagine the feeling that overcomes you when you realize that you are standing at that very spot. “Karov Hashem lechol korav.” Hashem is close to all those who call out to him, and it is not really necessary to be at the Kosel to be close to Hashem, but being there is being there, right there, right at the place where the Botei Mikdosh stood and the rei’ach nicho’ach went up on high. Who can deny that being there is a zechus not to be passed up on?

Kever Rochel is another place Jews flock to with their tefillos. The holy site traces its existence back to the first parshiyos of Chumash we learned as children. Who is not mesmerized by the tragic story of Mama Rochel and her burial alongside the road, where she prays for her offspring?

Another tragic burial place of heroes that we visited is known as Mazkeret Batya. I had read and written about the establishment of that town, but never got to visit there. Religious farmers from der alter heim were recruited to populate and farm a newly-established farming village in the land of Eretz Yisroel over one hundred years ago. The project, despite the backing of Baron Rothschild, faced many difficulties. The insurmountable one arose with the Shmittah year, when the Baron’s representative refused to support the farmers throughout the fallow period.

Sickness and hunger were rampant, and many of the original residents and their children died as the tragedy played out. The town is now almost completely secular, and the story of its founding is basically forgotten, save a few musty museums, memorials and old buildings in town. Eretz Yisroel is nikneis b’yissurim, and these plain, simple, ehrliche farmers uprooted themselves and their families, following the eternal dream of the Jewish people. Things didn’t turn out as planned, but their sacrifices should be commended and remembered.

I had the good fortune of participating in the siyum of a Sefer Torah presented to my beloved uncle, Rav Berel Wein, upon the twenty-year anniversary of assuming the position of rabbi at Beit Knesset Hanasi in Yerushalayim. May he merit teaching Torah for many years to come in good health.

I also had the good fortune to meet up with the Zlotowitz family, who were in Israel for the second yahrtzeit of their father, Rav Meir Zlotowitz zt”l, and I joined in the commemoration in memory of a man whose dedication to Torah brought Torah and its values to many hundreds of thousands of people and aided untold numbers in the study of Talmud and much else. May his memory be a blessing and may his wife and children be blessed as they continue in his ways.

Meeting up with Yated writer, Tzvika Yaakovson, is always a pleasure and interesting. We were passing by Machaneh Yehuda when he asked me if I was ever at the kevorim of the Gerrer rebbes. Though I had always wanted to go, I had never been there and didn’t know exactly where they were. He said he knew. It took some false turns up and down some picturesque small streets and then we found the kevorim, hiding in the open.

The Imrei Emes and the Pnei Menachem lie steps away from the mayhem, hustle and bustle of Machaneh Yehuda. We joined the people there and said some kappitlach of Tehillim, beseeching the Creator that He accept our tefillos in the merit of the great tzaddikim.

Tzvika took me to something called the International Convention of Sefardic Rabbis, where we heard Minister Aryeh Deri recount that at a cabinet meeting debate over purchasing additional F-35 planes for the Israeli Air Force, he postulated that if Israel would forgo just one plane and dedicate its $122 million cost to Torah education, the country would be much better off and nobody would miss that plane. If only someone sitting around that table had taken what he said seriously…

There was the usual banter of taxi drivers and their mussar and pithy observations, which seem de rigueur for any tourist’s recounting. The emunah and bitachon of the simple people and their tales of daily survival in the Holy Land, delivered with a touch of Middle-Eastern humor, never fail to put a smile upon the faces of their Western passengers.

Of course, their lessons don’t come close to what we can learn from our rabbeim and the gedolim accessible there. An hour spent with Rav Dovid Cohen, rosh yeshivas Chevron, is invigorating, inspiring and meaningful, and worth more than anything. His gadlus in Torah and wide range of knowledge are matched only by his deep and sincere humility. May he and the others be blessed with the strength and stamina to continue teaching and leading our people ad bias goel tzedek bimeheirah.

After an uplifting and invigorating stay, it was time to return home. We arrived at the airport on time, and after waiting on all the different lines and repeatedly answering the same inane questions, I made it to my seat on the plane for the flight to the United States.

I took out a new sefer on Eicha that my friend Tzvika had given me, figuring that learning it on the way back to golus would help put things in perspective.

But it didn’t happen. The culmination of the days spent running around from place to place came crashing down on me, and as soon as I snapped my seatbelt shut, I was fast asleep for the duration of the flight home. I woke up for the landing.

And here I am, back at my desk, writing as I do every week, with Hashem’s help. May we all merit to go to good places this summer, learn positive lessons, and become reenergized to do what we must do, living the lives befitting children of Avrohom, Yitzchok and Yaakov.

Staying Grounded

By Rabbi Pinchos Lipschutz

Parshas Korach is one of the most examined and talked about parshiyos in the Torah. Jews over the centuries have tried to come to grips with the motivations of this once-great man born into one of the princely families of Klal Yisroel who seemed to have everything going for him, until he went up against Moshe Rabbeinu.

Rashi notes (16:1), “Parsha zu yafeh nidreshes,” this parsha lends itself to fine homiletic interpretations. It is also relevant to each subsequent generation, for its lessons impact us and our lives.

What possessed Korach? “Korach shepikeiach hayah, mah ra’ah leshtus zu?” This question still troubles us: Why did he do it? What was he thinking?

Oftentimes, we look at decisions made by others and wonder what they were thinking and how they could have chosen a particular course of action. How could they have failed to see what was plainly obvious to any objective observer?

Life is complicated. People are complicated. Situations change and people change along with them. People who succeed start believing that they are responsible for their own success and, as a result, their self-image changes.

Anyone who seeks self-improvement and studies mussar knows that the first rule of ethics is not to become haughty. The Rosh, in his sefer Orchos Chaim, composed of 155 rules of proper conduct, lists the following as number one: “Lehisracheik min hagaavah betachlis harichuk. Stay as far away as you can from haughtiness.”

The opening chapters of mussar sefer Orchos Tzaddikim pertain to the pitfalls of haughtiness and the importance of humility.

We have often seen it happen. Someone we know receives a new position, achieves success, and becomes influential. As he grows in the job and gets more comfortable, he becomes consumed with self-importance. He begins taking himself seriously. And with that comes a certain sense of him being holier than thou, better than everyone else. He begins looking down at people and looking at himself with exaggerated self-importance.

His arrogance leads him to lose touch with everyone around him, whom he views as small people. He becomes aloof and absorbed with his image, feeding his own sense of superiority. As time goes on, he distances himself from people he knew in his previous life, for they don’t appreciate his greatness.

That man is Korach. And that was his downfall. 

He was a child of a princely family. He had his work as an eved Hashem cut out for him. He achieved success and became consumed with self-importance. As he saw his cousins rising higher, he began to lose sight of his goal. He held public rallies, addressing his relatives and saying to them, “I also want to serve Hashem the way you do. I am just as qualified as you are.”

He insisted that his campaign wasn’t about him, although of course it was. He wasn’t content to be a “normal guy” anymore. Once he sniffed out nesius, kehunah, and positions of influence and prestige, he felt that they should be his.

He drifted further from reality, and as time passed, he grew increasingly distant from the people around him, becoming consumed by his aspirations.

We know this phenomenon well. We see it occur too often. Thus, parsha zu is yafeh nidreshes. It can be repeatedly explored and examined for its lessons of enduring significance.

Korach carried the aron and possessed ruach hakodesh. He was a holy person, highly qualified for many positions, but he began to believe in himself and failed to take heed of Hillel’s teaching in Pirkei Avos (2:4). The humble Hillel taught, “Al ta’amin b’atzmecha ad yom moscha - Don’t believe in yourself until your last day on this world.” Don’t think that you have conquered all. Don’t think that you are better than everyone. Remember that the yeitzer hora is ever-present, seeking to take advantage of your weaknesses to cause you to stumble, fail and sin.

The appetite for leadership positions is an outgrowth of insufficient humility coupled with a lack of belief in Hashem. One who is immersed in Torah and maasim tovim, and reinforces himself with mussar study, doesn’t crave attention and praise from the masses, for he knows that mortal praise and adulation are fleeting and usually self-serving. The eternal accolades are those that he aims for. Hashem has the ability to reward him for his actions and to properly respect him and his actions.

He is happy learning in his corner until Hashgocha declares that it is time for him to venture out of his daled amos and into communal leadership and responsibility. So many of our recent rabbinic leaders were people who shunned recognition and publicity.

The Chazon Ish studied alone in the Vilna shul, his greatness known only to a few individuals and people who had to know, such as Rav Chaim Ozer Grodzensky. When he moved to Eretz Yisroel, where there was a dearth of talmidei chachomim and manhigim at the time, Rav Chaim Ozer declared that it was time to reveal the secret, and the Chazon Ish took a leading role in establishing the Israeli Torah community as we now know it.

Rav Elozor Menachem Man Shach was known as a batlan whose life revolved around Torah, his shiurim and his talmidim. When the passing of numerous Torah leaders left a tremendous void, the man who knew only Torah stepped out of his zone of comfort and, in his older years, led the generation to unprecedented heights.

When Rav Shach felt his strength ebbing after he passed the century mark, he turned to Rav Yosef Shalom Elyashiv, another batlan whose life revolved strictly around his learning, and forced upon him the mantle of leadership.

Torah leaders belong to the people. They don’t look over their shoulders to ensure that they have the crowds. They love Hashem, His Torah, and His children. They are approachable and sensitive, because they really do care. They operate on a higher plane and answer to a higher authority.

In 1973, there were contentious elections for the positions of Israeli chief rabbi. After Ashkenazic Chief Rabbi Shlomo Goren made it clear that political calculations would take precedence over halacha, the Torah leadership decided to act. Rav Yosef Shalom Elyashiv, Rav Betzalel Zolty and others tapped Rav Ovadia Yosef to run for the position of Sephardic chief rabbi and thus save the rabbanut from a hostile takeover. At an emergency meeting in Rav Elyashiv’s sukkah, the relatively young Chacham Ovadiah was informed that he had been selected as a candidate. He was hesitant. With the government and authorities lined up behind the other candidate, there was virtually no chance that he could win. Only two weeks remained before the election, yet, in deference to Rav Elyashiv, Chacham Ovadiah agreed and announced his candidacy.

Rav Yosef continued his regular schedule of shiurim and writing teshuvos, refusing to hit the campaign trail. When askonim warned him that it appeared that he did have many votes from the members of the voting committee, he replied, “I only need one vote, that of Hakadosh Boruch Hu.”

Our leaders are not people who seek the top positions and feel comfortable there. Rather, they are giants who shun the limelight and closet themselves with Hashem and the Gemara for decades of almost reclusive growth.

For all outward appearances, our past leaders, like our present ones, were like everyone else. They didn’t carry themselves differently. They stood among the people in the bais medrash without airs, never demanding any special recognition.

Moshe Rabbeinu, the greatest prophet we ever had, the greatest leader our people has known, was “onov mikol adam, the humblest of men” (Bamidbor 12:3). He knew of his greatness and connection with the Creator, but he never forgot that he was a yelud adam, a mortal person.

We all have to learn to remain grounded, connected to our family and friends, never losing sight of our common frailty. We are all just people. We should be careful not to get carried away with ourselves.

A prominent gaon, one of the most brilliant Litvishe mechabrei seforim, suffered a life of hardship and oppression. In his later years, he revealed the reason for his troubles. He said that he was cursed by Rav Yitzchok Elchonon Spektor.

He related that as a young man, he found himself in Vilna at a large rabbinic levayah and was asked to speak. During his hesped, he involved himself in a local dispute. Later, he traveled to Kovno and went to see the gadol hador, Rav Yitzchok Elchonon. The senior rov of Lita told him that a young person such as himself should not have gotten involved in a local dispute.

Being young and somewhat brash, the brilliant talmid chochom answered the Kovno Rov, “I know Bavli as well as you do. I know Yerushalmi better than you. I am entitled to express my opinion.”

Rav Yitzchok Elchonon looked at him and said, “If that is the case, going on this path will mean that you will have no peace your entire life.”

Although the rov interpreted it as a curse, it may be that Rav Yitzchok Elchonon was simply giving him advice for life. If you want peace in life, if you want to be happy, then you must be able to grow without becoming haughty. Peace of mind comes about from being cognizant of your proper place and role in this world. Proficiency in Shas is not a license to act rashly and brashly. The risks presented by haughtiness are as dangerous for you as for a person not as blessed as you.

To ignore that is to risk losing touch with what makes life rich: friends, family and the peace of mind that comes to a person who isn’t occupied with self-promotion and self-aggrandizement. Haughty people run the risk of missing out on the contentment of those who act properly, rise in their spheres, and, when successful, remain aware of where they came from and where they are headed.

Rav Nosson Tzvi Finkel was speaking to his talmidim and wanted to teach them a lesson in humility. He said that he was planning to stop accepting kibbudim at weddings. The rosh yeshiva smilingly described what went through his mind at wedding celebrations. “First, I spend a whole evening nervous about which brocha they’ll give me. Then, when they finally call my name, I am nervous about them getting my name and title correctly. Then, when all that is done and I am under the chupah about to recite the brocha, I notice two people outside shmoozing. They don’t even see that I’m getting a brocha, so the whole thing isn’t worth it.”

Tongue-in-cheek as it was, it was a powerful lesson from a rebbi to his talmidim, teaching them to maintain perspective.

You can’t live your life for fleeting honor or you will always be let down in the end. You can’t live your life based on how other people will react. You have to act properly and responsibly, bringing contentment to yourself and those around you.

Rav Yaakov Kamenetzky was seated at a wedding. The waiter circulated, asking the assembled guests whether they preferred a fish or meat main course. Some chose fish to demonstrate a higher fidelity to the laws of kashrus, but when the waiter came to Rav Yaakov, he smiled and asked for the meat plate. He joked that the choice was between ta’ava and kavod. Ta’ava won.

Greatness isn’t the absence of normalcy, but the ability to admit to being human.

Rav Yaakov’s son, Rav Shmuel, embodies this ability. The rosh yeshiva exudes a sense of being able to relate to everyone, understanding all sorts of problems and situations, and using humor and gentle self-awareness to lead.

Our ultimate leader, Moshe Rabbeinu, was also the greatest onov, because there is no better way to understand and direct people than through true humility.

Rav Shmuel Kamenetzky once arrived early at an office for a meeting. The rosh yeshiva noticed that a Daf Yomi shiur was being given by Professor R’ Michel Schiffenbauer, who was his talmid years ago at Yeshiva of Philadelphia. He pulled up a chair and joined the staffers, along with various professionals who work in the neighborhood. In doing so, he gave a shiur of his own about what it means to stay normal, relatable and humble.

Korach utilized propaganda and demagoguery to further a personal vendetta. He threw the entire nation into turmoil merely to realize a personal ambition. A great and blessed man, he wasn’t satisfied with his position in life. He was consumed by visions of his own self-importance. He was blinded by his jealousy of the two brothers who redeemed the people from Mitzrayim and led them through the midbar on their way to Eretz Yisroel.

This week’s parsha is as relevant today as ever before. Each generation has those who lead, as did Moshe Rabbeinu, with Torah leadership.

There have always been those who saw it as their mission to rise up against gedolei Torah, seeking to minimize their greatness in the eyes of the masses in order to promote a personal agenda. Leadership is a tenuous position, requiring the leader to be respected and revered by the community he leads so that they may follow him.

Modern politics is all about portraying an image of being relevant. Remaining in power means being able to reach the people and maintain their confidence. People are fed up with the status quo, having those in power dictating their futures and ruling without care of repercussions on the lives of their constituents.

People want leaders who will help them, listen to them, and really care about them. They want a positive, bright future for themselves and their children. They want opportunity, jobs, good schools, fairness and justice. They want bullies punished, molesters put away, victims healed, and every child, smart or not, given a chance to make something of themselves.

Korach may have been a pikeiach, but he didn’t have the temperament or inclination to heed those who said, “You’re acting like a fool.”

Perhaps this is why the parsha contrasts the fate of Korach with that of Oin ben Peles, whose wife saved him. By correctly diagnosing Korach’s motivation, she told her husband that he would be a back-bencher even were Korach to beat Moshe and Aharon. The wise woman told her husband, “You’re going to remain a nothing regardless, so why get involved?”

It probably hurt him to hear what she said, but he knew that she was the classic good wife. In fact, Chazal were referring to her when they taught, “Chochmas noshim bonsah beisah.” Chochmah is predicated upon being honest and straightforward.

If you have a spouse, sibling or good friend who tells it to you the way it is, cherish him or her. Listen, because they will keep you sane.

Reb Meir Simcha Chein, a wealthy chossid, built a nice house. At its center sat a massive, ornate dining room table, suitable for royalty.

Shortly after he moved in, fellow chassidim and friends went to the house for a fabrengen. One chossid took a knife and made a scratch on the new table.

“Why did you do that?” Reb Meir Simcha inquired.

“Because this way,” the chossid said, “the chassidim won’t be afraid to celebrate around it.”

Reb Meir Simcha, appreciating the depth of the answer, and the loyalty and friendship beneath the words, embraced his dear friend.

Let’s never forget who we are or where we come from. Never become distant and aloof.

Being “one of the boys” takes work, and no one is so important to be better than anyone else. Make sure your friends aren’t afraid to dance on your table.

Parsha zu yafeh nidreshes. Let’s probe it repeatedly, keeping ourselves far away from haughtiness and conceit.

Rav Aharon Leib Shteinman was asked to give a mussar talk to a gathering of moros, Bais Yaakov teachers.

“Me?” he reacted with surprise, “I should speak to them? I should give them mussar? These are women who are up late at night preparing their classes, then tending to their children early in the morning. When they finally dress and give their children breakfast and get them off to school, they hurry off to teach. Six hours later, after a long morning of teaching, answering, speaking and inspiring Yiddishe techter to Torah and yiras Shomayim, they rush home, where ‘di pitzkalech varten,’ the children wait for them eagerly. If they want to rest, the children don’t let. Yes, they deserve chizuk, but I certainly can’t give them mussar.”

Parsha zu yafeh nidreshes. Know your place and remain humble.

Every person has his own unique contribution to make. As Korach rightly said, “Kol ha’eidah kulam kedoshim.” Every individual is holy. Yet, he attempted to go where he didn’t belong.

Each plant requires a certain amount of sunlight and water. Similarly, every Jew has an area in which he can flower, prosper and contribute to the betterment of mankind.

Klal Yisroel is like a luscious landscape, loaded with various plants and flowers. There are tall and mighty trees alongside willowy shrubbery. There are tall grasses and short ones, flowering bushes and evergreens, side by side. Each one is different, but together they form a remarkable garden.

Reprinted from July 8, 2016.