Historic Times

By Rabbi Pinchos Lipschutz 

Put aside politics, religion and your personal thoughts about the State of Israel. Something monumental took place last week in Yerushalayim. Over fifty heads of state gathered in Yerushalayim to mark the 75th anniversary of the liberation of Auschwitz.

In a world where parlor meetings are termed historic, this was something that was really significant and momentous. And we should sit up and take notice. At a time when people are consumed with touting the supposed increasing anti-Semitism around us, people who decide the fates of countries and hundreds of millions of people came together in the Jewish state that didn’t exist 75 years ago to declare that they will do what they can to ensure that Jews are not targeted for complete destruction ever again.

No, it is not up to them, but to hear them say it is a dramatic, remarkable change.

It is historic, indeed.

In the context of history, 75 years is an infinitesimal dot. In a book, it’s one sentence. In a calendar, it is the flip of a page. To have the leaders of the world gather in the capital of the Jewish nation so soon after the world stood by as millions of our brothers and sisters were systematically murdered in the most degrading way, is to have come a long way in a short time.

Nowadays, especially with the partisan impeachment of an American president underway, we tend to ignore what politicians say, or, at best, we take their words with several grains of salt. Often, they don’t believe what they say. They merely mouth the words and give expression to what was written by a lonely speechwriter in a stuffy, windowless back room.

That may be true, but if Russia’s president, Vladimir Putin, comes to Yerushalayim with a rabbinic friend and speaks against anti-Semitism just a few years after the fall of the Iron Curtain which cut off millions of Jews from their religion, that is historic.

‘I Cannot Forgive’

If a 7-½-year-orphaned boy, prisoner number 117030, locked in a concentration camp, can stand in front of world leaders 75 years later and proclaim, “I cannot forgive and I cannot forget [what was done to me]. What I remember is that I am the 38th generation of a rabbinic dynasty; I remember that I am a Jew,” and those words trigger applause, that is historic.

We need to know that we live in historic times, free to rebuild what was destroyed in the past century and the preceding centuries, free to hop aboard an airplane and walk the streets of Eretz Yisroel and daven in the holiest places. It is historic and we should appreciate it. We have come a long way and can hear the footsteps of Moshiach approaching.

We are an eternal people, with a long history. For thousands of years, the nations of the world have been trying to destroy us, and despite all their best efforts, we are here, thriving and flourishing. We study Parshas Bo this week and note that the pesukim and narratives of this parsha encompass many of the words and stories intrinsic to our faith, as well as special guidance in being mechaneich one’s children.

On the night of the Pesach Seder, every father is charged with imparting to the next generation the eternal messages and lessons that emanate from our experiences in Mitzrayim and our deliverance from bondage. In the process of retelling, we relate the lessons of sippur yetzias Mitzrayim to our children and ourselves, as we try to remain true to our calling in today’s golus.

The Ramban famously teaches that Parshas Bo is the guidebook of emunas Yisroel, which is the foundation of our belief throughout the ages. Interestingly, besides for Yetzias Mitzrayim being the bedrock of our faith, within the account of Yetzias Mitzrayim we find important chinuch lessons and timeless truths about how to maximize the potential of every Jewish child.

Divine Wisdom On Reaching Every Child

It is in regard to the mitzvah of sippur Yetzias Mitzrayim that the Torah charges each father to be a mechaneich, invested with a sacred task of inspiring his children. The Rambam (Hilchos Chometz Umatzoh 7:2) writes that it is incumbent upon fathers to teach children about Yetzias Mitzrayim, and a father should teach his children according to each child’s level.

Several pesukim in the parsha discuss how to teach our children about the importance of Yetzias Mitzrayim and its connection to the mitzvos we observe on Pesach.

The Torah discusses diverse questions that various types of children may pose. A different response is suggested for each type of child. Rashi quotes the Mechilta and the Yerushalmi in Pesachim that state, “Dibrah Torah keneged arba’ah bonim.” The Baal Haggadah says, “Keneged arba’ah bonim dibrah Torah,” the Torah speaks about four different types of sons who question our Pesach observances. There is the wise, the wicked, the ignorant, and the one who is so simple that he cannot even express his questions.

It is interesting to note that the Haggadah introduces this concept by stating, “Boruch haMakom boruch hu, boruch shenosan Torah le’amo Yisroel.” Hashem is to be praised for giving us the Torah - “keneged arbaah bonim dibrah Torah.” We praise Hashem for giving us the Torah, which speaks - and is relevant - to different types of children and people.

While every father wants to be blessed with smart, knowledgeable, well-behaved children, they unfortunately don’t always turn out that way. The Torah provides the language with which to reach each and every type of child, including the challenging ones. As frustrated as a father must feel at times, he doesn’t have the option of ignoring or speaking roughly to such a child. 

Every person is born with the potential for greatness. Should he unfortunately be detoured from his mission, we never abandon him. The Torah requires us to reach out to him and respond to his queries in a language he can understand.

Every talmid has the potential to become a gadol b’Yisroel if properly nurtured and allowed to develop. There are many stories of boys who were considered average in their youth and developed into famed gedolim. Sometimes it was a rebbi who took an interest in them and reached deep into their untapped greatness. Other times, a student’s stubborn dedication to learning allowed the intelligence to develop.

This is profound meaning in the posuk in Mishlei that states, “Chanoch lanaar al pi darko.” The premise of that advice is that every child has a unique derech. There is a distinct path to the heart of every child. When the appropriate language and approach are used, there is no one who cannot be reached.

In this week’s parsha, we are reminded that the Torah speaks to every person. We have to heed that message and seek to speak to every Jew in every period in a way that he can understand and accept.

When we speak of the Holocaust, we must bear in mind Yetzias Mitzrayim. When we teach the next generation about the Nazis, we think of Amaleik three thousand years later.

We seek methods to reach our children, to reach the youth of today. The Torah speaks of arba’ah bonim, four sons, and also offers four expressions, arba leshonos, of geulah. Perhaps this is a hint that in order to bring about the ultimate geulah, we have to use language that is appropriate for every type of child.

If we only speak in one lashon, we will not succeed in reaching everyone which in turn will thwart our efforts to bring about the geulah. The geulah is dependent upon everyone’s belief in Hashem and devotion to the mitzvos of the Torah.

Golus Mitzrayim was preordained to last 400 years starting from the birth of Yitzchok. When that time period concluded, the geulah arrived, despite the state of the Jewish people at that time. Golus Edom, in which we now find ourselves, has no known expiration date. The redemption depends on us, our dedication to Torah, our emunah and bitachon, and, mostly, our teshuvah.

It is only when Klal Yisroel does teshuvah that Hashem will bring us Moshiach and the geulah.

The yeitzer hora is a crafty enemy. Because he understands our motivations, he is able to outsmart us. For us to perceive the plainly evident truth is an epic struggle, for he shades and colors the way we understand what is happening around us and goads us to react in ways that harm us.

He uses words and ideas that paint negative actions as positive ones and causes us to view positive accomplishments with negativity and cynicism. He tells us that [not] all who wander are lost and endeavors to remove our focus from the goal. But that doesn’t work for us as a people. If we want to reach those who have questions and prevent them from going OTD, we have to be open and honest. We have to learn how to address our own issues using real solutions and honest ideas, not being content with noise or soundbites. What we need is practical direction, not grandstanding for the glory of the moment or fanciful thinking that has no application to reality.

Beyond Cliches

Having world leaders come together to give speeches about anti-Semitism may be historic and sound comforting, but a few good speeches alone never changed anything. Change requires clearly thought-through approaches, implemented with hard work and effort.

Much the same, seeking to be mechaneich children with clichés, stale arguments and outdated methods cause them to be turned off.

A mechaneich traveled from Yerushalayim to Bnei Brak to consult with the Chazon Ish on chinuch matters. Before he had a chance to begin speaking, the Chazon Ish turned to him and said, “I see on your face that you are not happy. You need to know that it is impossible to reach children without simcha. It is simply not possible.”

A young boy sat with his father in Auschwitz reciting what they could remember of the Haggadah on the Seder night. As they found themselves in the world’s most dismal corner during the darkest of times, their minds were elsewhere.

The father and son, shuddering from hunger, fright and exhaustion, held their Seder in Auschwitz. As they attempted to recall the memories of Sedorim in years past, at home, with the festive atmosphere, beautiful faces of family gathered around the decorated table, the emaciated boy with his scarecrow of a father commemorated the redemption of their forefathers.

The boy asked the four questions of the Mah Nishtanah and, when he was done, there was a fifth.

“Tatte leben ich vil dir fregin… I have one more question. Will we be alive next year, me and you, so that I can ask you the questions again?”

The father turned to the boy and said, “My son, we don’t know what will happen tomorrow. Neither of us knows what our fate is. But one thing I know: Whether or not we will live until next Pesach, you can be sure that next year there will be boys all around the world asking their fathers the Mah Nishtanah.”

Our history continues, stretching back to the days of Mitzrayim, fathers relating to children and looking to the past and the future. Every day, we say Krias Shema in the morning, when we awake and begin the day, and again in the evening, when we go to bed at the close of the day. We are then reminded of Yetzias Mitzrayim. This reinforces the concept that despite all the threats we face from the nations of the world in every age, Hakadosh Boruch Hu inevitably protects us from them and ensures our survival.

The nations come and go, rise and fall. Their actions and speeches resonate and then dissipate, but as long as we continue studying Parshas Bo and transmitting its messages to our children, we shall survive and thrive until the coming of Moshiach speedily in our day.

What’s Doing?

By Rabbi Pinchos Lipschutz

Va’eira, which we lain this week, is the second parsha in the seder of geulah. Although Shemos, Va’eira and Bo are separately named parshiyos, together they tell the remarkable story leading to our nation’s redemption from slavery.

Moshe Rabbeinu appears before the Bnei Yisroel and attempts to shine rays of hope about the future upon them. He promises that after hundreds of years of servitude, the Jewish nation would be redeemed. And guess what happened? Nobody cared to listen to him. The posuk (6:9) reports, sadly and hauntingly, “Velo shomu el Moshe mikotzer ruach umei’avodah kashah.”

Just try to imagine the scene. Moshe Rabbeinu was tending to his flock in the wilderness as he had been doing for many years, ever since he escaped from Mitzrayim. Suddenly, he beheld the extraordinary sight of a bush aflame. He stopped what he was doing to consider what was taking place in front of him, as he wondered how it could be that the fire was burning but the bush wasn’t being consumed.

Like his ancestor, Avrohom Avinu, who studied the world and concluded that it could not have come into being by itself, as the Medrash (Bereishis Rabbah 39:1) relates, Moshe perceived that the Creator was announcing His Presence. He recognized that this was a defining moment in his life.

While Moshe was standing at the bush, the Ribbono Shel Olam addressed him, stating that he has been selected for a lofty mission, with a mandate to save His people.

Moshe asks for assurance. “What Name shall I tell them?” he says.

Hashem revealed Himself using the name of “Ehkeh asher Ehkeh - I will be with them through this golus and all the subsequent travails and hard times.”

Moshe was fresh off experiencing the revelation of the Creator of heaven and earth, who had decreed that the children of the avos, Avrohom, Yitzchok and Yaakov, to whom He had previously appeared, would be enslaved in a strange land and eventually freed.

No doubt exultant after his long conversation with Hashem and bearing the knowledge that the painful enslavement would soon end, Moshe went to share the good news with his brothers and sisters who had been suffering for as long as anyone could remember.

He appeared to them and said the five most glorious expressions of geulah, the very words they had been waiting to hear their entire lives and we celebrate until today at the Pesach seder: vehotzeisi, vehitzalti, vegoalti, velokachti and veheiveisi.

Tragically, almost unbelievably, the enslaved heirs of the avos to whom Hashem had previously appeared didn’t listen.

“Velo shomu el Moshe mikotzer ruach umei’avodah kashah.”

They didn’t listen. They couldn’t listen. They didn’t have the keilim with which to listen. They were incapable of hearing the words that would have transformed everything for them. They failed to digest the message promising hope for a better tomorrow.

Like every posuk in the Torah, this posuk is recorded for posterity to instruct and guide us. The words and their lessons remain relevant for eternity. We must always be ready to hear words of hope and positivity.

We live in a state of constant anticipation, always awaiting good news. Like the Chofetz Chaim, with his special kappota ready for Moshiach’s imminent arrival, we all carry a sense of expectancy, viewing the events around us through eyes that look beyond them, our ears listening for the footsteps of our go’el.

The situation in our world is bleak, to be sure. Suddenly, it has once again become acceptable to be anti-Semitic. Each day, it seems, there is graffiti in some other supposed safe place, reminding us that we are in golus. Tiny Eretz Yisroel is being targeted by despots and crazies. The Torah community has its own problems and is being targeted by secularists, who quietly prepare to take the reins of power from Binyomin Netanyahu and consolidate power without him or his religious and right-wing allies.

We hear angry words and threats from Iran, but we see past them, as we wonder if this is yet another step in preparing the world for the final redemption.

The sun shines brightly, though at times its rays are concealed by clouds. We have the ability to see beyond the clouds to the light and warmth of the sun.

Few things are more disturbing than encountering bitter people. They are surrounded by opportunity and blessing, yet they insist on concentrating on the negatives. Such people remain locked in by the inability to see beyond the negativity that envelopes them. They are unable to see past the darkness to better days.

Two people meet and one says to the other, “Shalom Aleichem. What’s doing?” Chances are that if there is nothing sad or negative to report on, the other fellow replies, “Nothing.” If there isn’t a good fight to discuss or a silly comment someone made, or a death, or some other calamity, then nothing is doing.

Why is that? There is so much good in our world, so many good things going on, yet that doesn’t seem worth discussing. There is much to be happy about and proud of, yet too many are consumed by the negative, concentrating on the bad news and failing to see the entire picture.

We forget that we are blessed to live in a land of plenty, which provides for the poor and those unable to make ends meet. Nobody goes to bed hungry, everybody has a warm place to be.

We just experienced dozens of siyumim of Shas around the world. Wherever there is a kehillah of Jews, there was a Siyum Hashas, with almost total communal participation. Everyone joined together with achdus to celebrate the achievement. That’s a good thing. Look at the good. Don’t look to take potshots.

There are so many people, yeshivos, schools and organizations doing good things. There are so many generous people supporting them. Look at the good and rejoice in it.

Fresh off the Holocaust, which almost decimated our people, we have reestablished ourselves and now flourish in cities and towns across the globe. The waves of assimilation that plagued first-generation religious Americans are non-existent. We can basically do what we want, where we want, and no one bothers us.

Why the negativity? Why the harping on what is wrong without appreciating the good?

The process of learning Torah and avodas hamussar is meant to train us to see the tov. We are to acquire an ayin tovah that allows us to discern the good in what we do have and to appreciate the fortune that abounds, if only we were ready to look a little deeper. In order to be good Jews, we have to be happy with the present and positive about the future. If we aren’t, it is an indication of how much we are lacking in the study of Torah and mussar.

Torah and mussar keep the person who studies them active, optimistic, energetic and positive. It shapes an individual into a mentch, a person who respects others and is worthy of respect himself.

The Ohr Hachaim Hakadosh (6:9) explains that the reason the Jews in Mitzrayim were not able to listen to the words of Moshe was because they were not bnei Torah. Torah broadens a person’s heart, he says. Had they been bnei Torah, they would have been receptive to Moshe’s message. We, who have been granted the gift of Torah, have no excuse for not being open to hearing the words of the Moshe Rabbeinus of our generation and those who seek to improve our lots and help us prepare ourselves for the geulah.

Every week, there are dinners, parlor meetings and receptions for yeshivos, shuls and mosdos of tzedakah and chesed. People open their wallets and help each other.

We must ensure that we don’t fall into the category of “velo shomu el Moshe,” those who aren’t able to accept good news. Let us not grow so despondent about our situation that we can’t hear and see the good that is prevalent.

We need to be positive and open to hearing the words and teachings of the Moshes of the generation. Our emunah must be such that it allows us to believe, accept and work on messages that seek our improvement and promise to bring us closer to geulah.

We are currently in the last stages of the final golus. The three earlier exiles were caused by the sins of avodah zarah, gilui arayos and shefichas domim. The current golus is caused by lashon hara and sinas chinom.

In order to merit the geulah, we have to uproot those sins and remove them from our midst. Ridding our people of them is increasingly difficult, but since it is a prerequisite to getting us to the place where we belong, we need to work to rid division and derision from our people.

Despite the emphasis placed on rectifying them, they linger, seemingly ever present. There are so many programs and projects designed to rectify us, but we remain divided and gossipy nonetheless.

Rav Tzadok Hakohein says (Pri Tzaddik, Rosh Chodesh Nissan) that Moshe Rabbeinu explained to Hashem that appealing to Paroh would be of no use. “Aich yishmo’eini Paroh,” Paroh would not listen, he said, because “va’ani aral sefosoyim.”

Although Hashem, who is “som peh l’adam,” assured Moshe Rabbeinu that He would repair his speech defect and Paroh would accept what he says, Moshe explained his reticence in approaching Paroh, because “va’ani aral sefosoyim,” referring to the orlah, which refers to the yeitzer hara. Moshe complained that the yeitzer hara was blocking his voice from being heard and accepted.

Moshe was the messenger of the Bnei Yisroel and derived his energy from them. As long as they were sinful, he was not able to speak on their behalf. His sefosayim were covered by orlah, so to speak. But when the Bnei Yisroel did teshuvah, returned to the study of Torah, and renewed their faith in Hashem, Moshe was able to speak to Paroh on their behalf.

The Arizal taught that the name of the chag of Pesach hints to the gift of speech, as it can be pronounced as peh soch, which literally translates as the mouth speaks.

We must be careful not to become overwhelmed by the tumah of our surroundings. We must not let the areilus overtake us, but always remember to live Yiddishe lives of kedusha and taharah, dedicated to dikduk b’lashon, kiyum hamitzvos and limud haTorah.

Areilus hardens our souls and causes us to engage in lashon hora and sinas chinom, which subvert the heart of man and cause so much negativity, machlokes and hatred. We must reinforce our emunah that we have the ability to bring about the geulah if we conduct ourselves in a way that allows Moshe to speak and permits us to hear his message.

What’s doing? Great things are happening. What’s happening? Great stuff!

Every day we get a little better.

Every day our people are improving. There is more Torah, more achdus, and more tzedakah.

Every day, there are more zechuyos to get us – and keep us – on track to be mekabeil pnei Moshiach tzidkeinu.

Living Yiddish

By Rabbi Pinchos Lipschutz

For some reason, in the wake of the Siyum Hashas, we have been inundated with feel-good stories about Yiddishkeit, many involving gentile policemen and the like. The storylines are basically the same: We behaved so well at the Siyum Hashas that troopers and stadium staff are commending us.

We are supposed to feel better about ourselves because people who man a stadium for sports events and concerts said that the Jews who came together for the serious and elevated purpose of celebrating the Daf Yomi cycle’s completion of Shas were better behaved than those who come to revel in Hellenistic entertainment, often ingesting spirits to induce the desired revelry.

I ask you, my dear friends: Is that what makes us great? Is that what defines us? Is that what instills pride in us and inspires us to strive for more and move higher?

Torah is our motivator, Torah is our identifier, and Torah is what binds us together and gives us our identity. We live for Torah and we strive for Torah. Everything else in life pales compared to it. We seek to live lives of kiddush Hashem, meaning devoted to Hashem and to studying and observing His Torah.

The milestones of Torah are our milestones and what we celebrate, according to the guidelines of the Torah, which include proper derech eretz and middos tovos. We do not seek the approbation of the outside world. Their values are not ours, and what motivates and interests them should hold no incentive for us.

What is good about learning the daf and celebrating its study is not what some Gentile did or didn’t say about it, or about the way we celebrate it. What is good about learning the daf and celebrating its study is that it enhances our lives in this world and the next, giving meaning to life and enhancing our neshamos. We should never lose sight of that, even though, of course, we are heartened when we get good press instead of the usual anti-Semitic hate.

As Yidden in golus, we need to be reminded of our roles here and how we are to deal with those around us.

We are familiar with the Chazal that among the catalysts of the Bnei Yisroel’s redemption from Mitzrayim was that “lo shinu es shemom, lo shinu es leshonam, and lo shinu es malbushom,” they didn’t change their names, language or mode of dress.

Throughout tens of centuries of golus, Medroshim such as this have served to remind us of who we are, where we come from as children of Avrohom, Yitzchok and Yaakov, and our mandate to stand taller and prouder than those who surround us and separate from them and their modes of thinking.

This Chazal can be understood on its most basic level as conveying that man’s name, style of dress and language form his personality. Every nation prides itself on these outward displays of their national identity. Though beaten down in servitude, the Bnei Yisroel realized that they had their own destiny to fulfill. They didn’t permit their travails and hardships to cause them to lose sight of their own destiny.

But there is also a deeper understanding of this Chazal.

The dream of returning to Eretz Yisroel is part of our DNA. We are a people with a legacy and a destiny that we never lose sight of. Our lives are focused on achieving the goal of Acharis Hayomim.

The first posuk in Sefer Shemos, which details the descent into golus, states, “Ve’eileh shemos Bnei Yisroel habo’im Mitzrayma – And these are the names of the Bnei Yisroel who are coming to Mitzrayim.”

Commentators point out that the Hebrew word depicting their arrival in the strange land should have been in the past tense, “sheba’u,” which would translate as “who came.” Instead, the posuk uses the present conjugation, “habo’im,” which means “who are coming.”

The explanation is that the Jews never “came” to Mitzrayim and settled there. Instead, they were in a constant state of “habo’im,” refusing to make themselves at home and never forgetting the dream of returning to Eretz Yisroel. They were steadily coming there. They thought that every day would be the day they would leave Mitzrayim. When they didn’t, they were “bo’im” once again. But each time, with sadness and resignation, they accepted their arrival and once again began dreaming of leaving. They were thus in a constant state of coming.

The result was “lo shinu.” They refused to change and adapt. They were unwilling to acclimate and forget their own identifying factors, because they were only there temporarily. They knew what was true and what was lasting. They knew what was false, fleeting and temporary, and they knew to which category they belonged.

Rashi (Shemos 3:12) states that the Jewish people were redeemed from Mitzrayim in the merit that they would accept the Torah on Har Sinai. The manifestations of lo shinu were an indication of their fidelity to what is real, and Hakadosh Boruch Hu thus knew that they were ripe for Kabbolas HaTorah, for the Torah is the complete and total truth. It is the very essence of truth, and truth means to be real, not superficial.

People who live a life that they don’t really believe in are easily dissuaded. They are easy prey for charlatans and false ideas. There is no loyalty to ideas or values, and the only concern is which lifestyle is in fashion and which viewpoint is current. They flow with the stream, veering this way and that as the fashionistas dictate. What they thought yesterday to be ugly and unthinkable can easily become today’s beauty and must-have. Because their view of style is not grounded in any reality, it is easily fungible. It is all superficial and easily transformed.

What is true lasts forever. As the posuk states, “Sefas emes tikon lo’ad.”

The posuk in the first perek of Tehillim describes us as being like trees planted on the banks of rivers, with deep roots - entrenched shoroshim - linking us to Har Sinai and the greatest mortals the world has known. We are guided by their legacy and teachings. We have a rich mesorah. We drink from the palgei mayim of our timeless Torah.

Despite their challenges and obstacles, the Bnei Yisroel in Mitzrayim lived with the ideal of “lo shinu,” remembering where they came from and where they were headed.

In the land of Paroh, this was so important. His leadership was based on the make-believe and false perceptions, as Rashi states on the words “Hinei hu yotzei hamoymah” (7:15). Paroh created a fiction about himself that anyone could have seen through had they cared enough to follow him around one day. No one did, because they were content to play along. They didn’t care. It made them feel good about themselves to have a king who passed himself off as superhuman.

They were like the chaff, blown about, representing nothing and standing for nothing. They were a nation of sheker. They were happy and comfortable with the lie they lived.

It was difficult for the people of Mitzrayim when the makkos rained down upon them. People whose lives are predicated upon truth are able to recognize that they have erred and change their lives accordingly. The Mitzriyim were unable to accept the truth. They turned away from it. They grew accustomed to the fiction of Paroh and the comforts it afforded them. When it was proven to them that they had erred, they were unable to change course and adapt to the truth.

The posuk states repeatedly that Paroh was unable to redirect his life because Hashem hardened his heart. However, the posuk doesn’t say that the hearts of the citizenry were hardened. Why did they not do teshuvah? It was because their inertia was a given. They lived superficial lives, parroting old stories about the greatness of their king and his mission even as the forces all around them showed otherwise. They couldn’t be confronted with the truth, for it would have ruined their blissful lives.

It was in the climate of Mitzrayim, ruled by fiction and dominated by lies, that the People of Truth distinguished themselves, a goy mikerev goy standing tall, a people of destiny.

Today, as well, we see a generation that chases every fad, so unsure of its own identity and so insecure with its own destiny that it identifies itself by the toys it owns, the gadgets it carries, and the cars being driven. A rootless generation looks to superficial signposts to mark its way. We see a gullible generation, easily lied to and eager to buy into anything that promises enjoyment. We see vacuous people without values living selfishly and hedonistically, covering their impulses with a fig leaf of religiosity.

A leader such as Moshe Rabbeinu and those who follow in his footsteps in every generation, including ours, are able to confront their imperfections and overcome them. They provide a goal for themselves and their followers to live up to. They are never satisfied, never resting from laboring mightily in the pursuit of excellence and G-dliness. They are courageous enough to stand out and stand apart, providing the inspiration necessary for others to follow that lead. The truth is their guide and concern; nothing can divert them from pursuing it. They are ambitious for themselves and for their talmidim, always seeking improvement and growth. They always seek to inspire and build up their people and remind them of what they are capable.

It is our task, as we study the parshiyos of geulah, to rededicate ourselves to living lives of truth and being true to ourselves and our destiny. We have to be ever cognizant of who our forefathers are - those we know, those of recent memory, and those from the distant past.

We have to remain a people of depth and intelligence, of loyalty and determination. If anything, the recent Daf Yomi celebration and attention to Torah that it spawned should inspire us to learn more and with greater depth so that we can better appreciate our way of life.

We should be reminded that what counts is what our avos would say about us and our actions. If what we are doing brings us closer to the geulah, then we should continue pursuing that path. If it doesn’t, we should be honest enough with ourselves to recognize the error of our ways and rectify our actions and behavior.

In a Russian bazaar, a horse kicked a man and stomped on him, leaving him seriously wounded. Passersby ran to be of aid. One asked whether his arms were broken, while another asked whether his legs were broken. But then a doctor arrived and told them that when a patient is in a situation such as the one in front of them, first you must ascertain if his heart is pumping, and only after you’ve done that do you check the rest of his body. If he is in cardiac arrest, you tend to his cardiac needs, because without a pumping heart, his hands and feet are of no use.

The Chofetz Chaim cited this tale when he once found himself in a small shtetel to which he had traveled to sell his seforim. The townspeople asked him if he would address them on the topic of shmiras Shabbos, because Shabbos observance was growing lax there. He asked them about Torah study in the town and they told him that learning was also weak there.

As he rose to speak, he told them, “Just as the doctor told the people in the Russian marketplace, limud haTorah is the heart of Klal Yisroel. If there is no limud haTorah, then there is no heart and Shabbos is not Shabbos. First you need to strengthen yourselves in the study of Torah, and after you have accomplished that, you can work on improving the observance of Shabbos and the other mitzvos.”

We should seek to live lives of kiddush Hashem, causing others to praise us, but recognize that the value of what we do and the importance of Torah study, having Torah values and living a Torah way of life, is because that is what being a Yid is all about.

Yiddish is not only a language. It is a way of life. Let us all resolve to live Yiddishe lives al pi Torah.

The Greatest Siyum

By Rabbi Pinchos Lipschutz

We just experienced the 13th Siyum Hashas of Daf Yomi. For many people, it is not the speeches that will remain etched in their memories, but the images. Images of old Holocaust survivors displaying their numbers and proclaiming that they have triumphed and survived against all odds.

We are all survivors, though we don’t all have those awful numbers on our arms. We have persevered through golus, remaining loyal to Hashem, His people and His Torah. Despite all the various pressures and demands we face, we study Torah every day, for it is the essence of our life.

Some learn a daf a day, and for others it’s a daf a week, and others don’t even count how long it takes them to do the daf, for in each daf they see layers of understanding and Torah. Some learn halacha and Shulchan Aruch, while others learn nistar and Zohar. Everyone who learns something celebrated with those who learn Daf Yomi. It was a celebration of all who hold Torah dear.

You don’t have to have those numbers scratched into your arm to appreciate that decades after we were beaten to a pulp, we are back with a vengeance. Decades after we were shot and gassed, we flourish and multiply. There are more communities, more people, more yeshivos, more schools and kosher supermarkets than anyone could have imagined a little while ago.

People attended the siyum and were overwhelmed by the site of so many people - old people, young people, and people of all ages. They were overwhelmed with emotion because they saw that the Torah remains our base and core. It is not only our religion and culture. It is our nationality, and we are proud of that. We haven’t been intimidated by the incidents of today or yesterday.

We stood there and felt the past and saw the future. So many young people, so many children, so much life and happiness and fulfillment. Who could not shed a tear or two? Who could not dance in celebration? It was a kiddush Hashem, yes it was, and for that reason. It was nice that outsiders got a nice impression of us, but that was not the story. We don’t do what we do because of what others will say. We have enough pride in what we do that we do it for ourselves, for our neshamos, for our families, and to benefit other Yidden. We do it for nitzchiyus.

We do it because we follow the path of the avos, as set out in the parshiyos of Bereishis we have been studying since Sukkos.

This week’s parsha of Vayechi bears many lessons for us in golus. Referring to the impending passing of Yaakov Avinu, the posuk states, “Vayikrivu yemei Yisroel lomus vayikra levno leYosef” (Bereishis 47:29). As Yaakov’s final moments of life approached, he called for his son Yosef. He urged Yosef not to bury him in Mitzrayim, but in Eretz Yisroel: “Al na sikbereini beMitzrayim. Veshochavti im avosai…” He asks Yosef to swear that he will bury him amongst the avos, repeating the request by stating, “Veshochavti im avosai.”

The Torah generally refers to our forefather as Yaakov when denoting something that is in the present, while the name Yisroel connotes eternity. We must understand why in this instance the Torah refers to him as Yisroel while he was discussing matters relating to the present. Additionally, why did Yaakov feel it necessary to repeat the request a second time? Why did he only make the request of Yosef? Why didn’t he speak to the rest of his children and notify them where he wanted to be buried?

Regarding this final question, Rashi explains that Yaakov made the request of Yosef because “hayah beyado la’asos,” he was the one who was able to carry it out. However, since the Torah refers to him as Yisroel, this meeting, the conversations, and the request are apparently matters of eternal value and not just temporal. Thus, these favors Yaakov asked of Yosef can be understood as matters of longstanding impact.

Perhaps we can understand the request being made of Yosef on a deeper level bearing in mind the exposition of the Baal Haturim, in Parshas Vayishlach when the posuk recounts that Yaakov said to Eisov, “Vayehi li shor vachamor” (Bereishis 32:6). He writes that Yaakov wasn’t only referring to his ownership of cows and donkeys, but, more significantly, Yaakov was alluding to his two sons who had the ability to confront Eisov. Yosef, who the posuk refers to as shor, is the alternate power to Eisov. Yissochor, who is referred to as a chamor, has the power of Torah, because of his diligence in its study.

The Ramban at the beginning of the parsha (47:28) writes, “Yaakov’s descent to Mitzrayim is similar to our present exile in the hands of the chaya harviis, Romi harasha… The golus is extending for a long time, and unlike previous exiles, we do not know when it will end.”

From the words of the Ramban, we see that golus Mitzrayim contains lessons for us in golus Edom. Thus, even Yaakov’s discussions with Yosef pertaining to golus Mitzrayim have relevance to us in our day.

These pesukim tell of cosmic events. Yaakov was laying the groundwork for survival for his children, and their children, in golus. He was joining with Yosef to craft a code of endurance and triumph, igniting that lehavah, the flame that will ultimately consume Eisov.

Thus, we can understand the seemingly repetitious request, “Vayikra levno leYosef vayomer al na sikbereini beMitzrayim. Veshochavti im avosai…” Yaakov said, “Do not bury me in Mitzrayim. I wish to lay with my fathers.” Then he said, “Unesosani miMitzrayim ukevartani bekevurosom - Carry me from Mitzrayim and bury me in their burial place.”

We can understand that Yaakov was making two distinct requests. Yisroel, the sheim hanetzach, the name that denotes eternity, was requesting, “Although I am now in Mitzrayim, the most tomei of all the lands, with wicked people and a wicked king, please do not bury me, Yisroel, here. Do not bury the netzach Yisroel, the traditions and beliefs that I received from my fathers, in this impure place. Remain separate from these profane people. Don’t permit yourself and your children to be influenced by them. Veshochavti im avosai. I wish to be like my fathers, Avrohom and Yitzchok, and be a link in a holy chain, with offspring who follow in my path.”

How will that be accomplished? Yaakov makes it clear: Not just by asking to be buried on holy soil, but by emphasizing, “Veshochavti im avosai. I want to rest with my fathers. I want to be connected to them and attached to their sacred mesorah.”

Yaakov tells Yosef, “You will be able to do that if unesosani miMitzrayim.” While the simple translation of unesosani is to carry, the word also means to uplift and raise (like the meforshim explain on the posuk, “Naso es rosh Bnei Yisroel”).

Thus, Yaakov was telling Yosef, “In order to accomplish my wish to be an av, with sons and grandsons following in my path, you must raise me and what I stand for over the Mitzri culture. Raise me higher than Mitzrayim. You, Yosef, my son, have to remain elevated. Remain above your surroundings. Raise your children to live on a different level. That is how they will remain connected to the avos.”

When Yaakov said, “Unesosani miMitzrayim,” he was referring to the need to remain above the prevailing tumah of Mitzrayim and other goluyos of the future. Hence the use of the name Yisroel. Then, after he expressed his wish for the future, he made his request for the present: “Ukevartani bekevurosom.”

Yaakov pleaded with his son, “Al na sikbereini beMitzrayim, don’t bury me, my middah and my hard work, in Mitzrayim.”

Yaakov appealed to Yosef and not to the other brothers, because the matter he was attending to was not simply with respect to where to bury him, but how to stand up to Eisov and Edom throughout the ages. Yosef was the antithesis of Eisov. He was the one who had the ability to carry out Yaakov’s request of transmitting to future generations the secret to surviving and thriving in the hostile setting of golus.

Additionally, Yaakov perceived that Yosef, the kadosh, who perfected the middah of yesod through personal purity and strength, had mastered the ability to transcend the lures of Mitzrayim, the ervas ha’aretz, the capital of permissiveness and hedonism. That, combined with his inherent ability to battle the forces of Eisov, is why Yaakov requested this of Yosef and not his brothers.

The posuk continues: “Vayishova lo vayishtachu Yisroel al rosh hamittah - And Yosef swore that he would do as his father asked. Yisroel bowed to him in appreciation towards the head of his bed.”

Once again, the posuk refers to Yaakov as Yisroel, because he wasn’t just bowing in appreciation of the fact that he would be buried near his father and grandfather in Eretz Yisroel. The eternal Yisroel of netzach was bowing to the eternal middah of Yosef. Yaakov was comfortable in the assurance that his avodah would continue.

Therefore, the parsha continues with the narrative of the brachos that Yaakov gave to the sons of Yosef.

Yosef brought his two sons, the guarantors of the derech of the avos, the fusion of Bais Yaakov and Bais Yosef that can negate the koach of Eisov. Yaakov saw nitzchiyus. He saw these children of golus, born in impure Mitzrayim but committed to derech Yisroel saba. He responded by giving them brachos, the blessings that have echoed ever since in every Jewish home.

After reporting on the entire conversation and incident, the Torah states, “Vayevorech es Yosef vayomar haElokim asher hishalchu avosai lefonov Avrohom v’Yitzchok haElokim haroeh osi mei’odi ad hayom hazeh. Hamalach hagoel osi mikol ra yevoreich es haneorim veyikorei vohem shemi vesheim avosai Avrohom v’Yitzchok veyidgu larov bekerev ha’aretz” (48:15-16).

This brocha is the culmination of the parsha as we have understood it. When Yaakov saw Menashe and Efraim, the sons of Yosef, he perceived that his offspring would succeed in remaining loyal to his heritage in the exile. Thus, he said, “…haElokim asher hishalchu avosai lefonov Avrohom v’Yitzchok haElokim haroeh osi mei’odi ad hayom hazeh. That same derech that Avrohom, Yitzchok and I have walked on will continue throughout golus.”

“Hamalach hagoel osi mikol ra yevoreich es haneorim.” Yaakov appreciated that davka Efraim and Menashe carried a strength that others did not have. The malach who protected Yaakov as he went into exile from his father’s home protected his grandchildren in their golus. Yaakov prayed that they would have the tenacity and determination in golus Mitzrayim and golus Romi to remain loyal to the precepts of Avrohom and Yitzchok: “veyikorei vohem shemi vesheim avosai Avrohom v’Yitzchok.”

The posuk in Chagai (2:9) relates the prophecy that the second Bais Hamikdosh would be more glorious than the first: “Gadol yihiyeh kevod habayis hazeh ha’acharon min harishon.” Rav Tzadok Hakohein of Lublin asks that this prophecy is apparently refuted by the fact that many of the revealed nissim of the first Bais Hamikdosh, such as ruach hakodesh and the Heavenly fire, were absent in the second Bayis. How, then, can the novi say that the splendor of the second Bais Hamikdosh would exceed that of the first?

Rav Tzadok quotes the Sefer Heichalos, which explains that in the absence of those open miracles and being removed from the tangible presence of the Shechinah, more glory was present, because the people had to toil and work hard on their own to create the kedusha. The glory that arises from hard work and struggle is superior to that which is brought about as a gift from Heaven. People who work hard for their income appreciate what they have much more than those who live lives of dependency.

Yaakov perceived that a new era was beginning. He delighted in seeing that Efraim and Menashe, children of golus, were determined to live as their avos did. He determined that they would serve as the paradigm for generations to come, portraying that it is possible to rise to high and exalted levels even when trapped in a place one doesn’t want to be in.

After learning that his beloved son, whom he had not seen in twenty-two years, was alive, Yaakov Avinu hurried down to Mitzrayim. On the way, he stopped in Be’er Sheva (46:1). The Medrash states that he stopped there in order to cut cedar trees for use in the construction of the Mishkon when his grandchildren would eventually be redeemed from golus Mitzrayim.

In the midst of the commotion and excitement, Yaakov Avinu remained focused on his mission of leading his progeny into golus. He maintained his equanimity, ensuring that his children would have the supplies they would need to exist in golus and when they would be redeemed.

Perhaps there is a deeper significance here as well. Yaakov brought cedar trees, because, tall and proud, they are a symbol of steadfastness and strength. He was hinting to his children that if they would stand like arozim, unyielding and proud, they would survive the golus.

Golus is grueling, dangerous and long, but with the firmness of the erez, it is possible to emerge whole and pure. As we endure this period, it behooves us to remain resolute, resisting temptation to sin and sink. We must remain united in our drive and determination not to splinter and divide. Division has caused so many of our problems, historically and presently.

Success and sometimes our very existence in golus is tenuous. We must count and appreciate our blessings while we have them.

Imagine the sight when Moshiach arrives very soon. Thousands of Jews will line up to dance around him. Many will be bearing the scars of daunting nisyonos and tragedies of golus. They will stand there dancing, the children of Efraim and Menashe, with those of Reuvein and Yehuda. The weak will be strong, the wobbly will be tough, and the persecuted resilient. They will celebrate the great siyum, the greatest siyum ever. Everyone will participate as brothers and sisters. Nobody will be left out.

The Torah (49:1 and Rashi inter loc) relates that after he blessed his grandchildren, Yaakov gathered the family together and said that he would tell them what would happen at the End of Days. Yaakov was inspired to reveal the time of Acharis Hayomim, as he saw the unity, the shared mission, and the special kochos of his descendants. He saw that although they were born in the exile, Efraim and Menashe possessed the strengths of Yosef. He was comforted that his offspring would be able to withstand golus and would merit redemption at the End of Days.

Alas, the very nature of golus is that it is enveloped in a film of darkness and its end remains hidden. We do not understand the ways of Hashem, but through it all, we maintain our emunah and bitachon that the end, the keitz that Yaakov visualized, is approaching.

Through smiles and tears, good years and bad, generous hosts and disdainful ones, we follow the example of Yaakov Avinu’s cedar trees, of Yosef’s strength, of the glory of Efraim and Menashe. We remain strong, honest, incorruptible, united, and committed to each other and our goals, knowing that if we continue to persevere, we will soon be in a better place.

You Can Do It

By Rabbi Pinchos Lipschutz

As a Jewish newspaper, our focus this week is totally on the Siyum Hashas. Everything else pales compared to that magnificent event. What is more important than tens of thousands of Jews marking their completion of studying Shas? The celebrations taking place around the country and across the world are at the center of everyone’s attention, even as we are in the grips of a series of anti-Semitic attacks.

Words have consequences, and the utterances of leftist politicians and other leaders have awakened a dormant eternal hatred of our people. We had thought that vile anti-Semitism would never take root in this great democratic country. We had thought that in America, we were free - free to practice our religion, and free from the hatred that cost our forefathers their lives and limbs. We were wrong.

We taught our children that pogroms were a thing of the past, never to be repeated. We taught them that in our day, in our world, in our country, the evils perpetrated against our people would not be repeated. We were wrong.

Madness At Our Own Doorstep

From afar, we witnessed murderous attacks against our brothers and sisters in Eretz Yisroel. We pitied them, we said Tehillim for them, and we went about our daily lives, feeling very safe. From afar, we witnessed Jews getting killed in France. We pitied them and wondered why they didn’t leave. We went about our daily lives, feeling quite safe. After a few years, the madness came here, spreading across the country from Pittsburgh to Poway to Jersey City. Then, on Motzoei Shabbos, it came to Monsey, as a man entered a home on a quiet safe street and attempted to kill Jews. No, no place is safe anymore. Golus is back with a vengeance. We need to take appropriate steps and learn appropriate lessons.

Ever since our father Yaakov was on the run from his brother Eisov, the Jewish people have found refuge in the Torah. Studying Torah gave their lives meaning, infused their hearts with strength and pumped their souls. Torah is our essence. It is our being. It is what no one can take away from us. So many have tried, but no one has succeeded.

We just finished celebrating Chanukah, marking the triumph of the Jewish people over the Greeks and their culture. So many have come after us, seeking our destruction. We have survived; they haven’t. The Torah has sustained us throughout the centuries.

This week’s Siyum Hashas proclaimed, “Kol kli yutzar olayich lo yitzloch.” Tens of thousands gathered to say that nothing will cut us down. Nothing will deter us. Nothing will separate us from Hashem and His Torah.

Klal Yisroel came together to proclaim, “Netzach Yisroel lo yishaker.” All the nisyonos in the world, all the tumah, all the temptations, will never stop people from waking up early in the morning to learn a blatt Gemara. No day will ever be difficult enough to keep our people from the bais medrash.

Torah has been our life, in the past, in the present, and in the future.

Some wonder why so many people come together. What brought them? Why did grandparents buy tickets for their entire family? Why did fathers and mothers and children come? What drove them?

They were all there for no reason other than to proclaim the nitzchiyus of Torah and Am Yisroel.

“HaTorah hee chayeinu.” Our life is Torah. There is nothing more important to us than studying a blatt Gemara. There is nothing as fulfilling as grasping the holy words and concepts of the Tannaim and Amoraim. There is nothing as great as greatness in Torah.

The Fifth Question

A father and son celebrated the Pesach Seder in Auschwitz. They were concealed, shuddering from hunger and exhaustion. The son asked the four questions and then asked a fifth. “Tatteh,” he whispered, “will we have a Seder next year? Will I be asking you these questions next year?”

The father was quiet, as memories of Sedorim in years past flew by, mixing with the tragedy of his current situation. And then he spoke with the emunah that has kept our people alive through the centuries of torture and pogroms. He said, “My dear son, I don’t know if you will be asking me the questions next year. I am not a prophet. But I promise you that somewhere, a Jewish child will be asking his father the four questions and the father will answer.”

“Ki heim chayeinu v’orech yomeinu­.” Torah is our lifeblood. Torah is what sustains us and keeps us going.

Ever since Rav Papa died, killed by the Romans for teaching Torah to the next generation of scholars, Jews have given their all to transmit the chochmah of Torah to the next generation. The mightiest of men threatened the weakest Jews, and just as they did in the battle with the Chashmonaim, the gibborim fell into the hands of the chaloshim, and the temei’im into the hands of the tehorim.

This week, when the Siyum Hashas of Daf Yomi occupies center stage, it is a fitting time to examine our relationship with Shas and those who study it.

What is the highest form of praise you can use to describe a good Jew? You say that he is “a Shas Yid.” A newcomer comes to shul and others ask about him. Who is he? What is he? Is he a good guy? Someone says, “Ehr iz ah Shas Yid,” and everyone looks at him with much-deserved respect.

Rav Elozor Menachem Man Shach was at a chupah. When it was over, he became upset. How can it be that they didn’t give a kibbud to a certain rosh yeshiva? He knows Shas!

Daf Yomi has brought that goal closer for so many.

Many tens of thousands joined in the celebration of the accomplishment of completing the study of Shas. With each passing siyum, the number of attendees grows larger, attracting more people, reaching numbers previously thought impossible for an event of this kind.

Alongside the growing number of attendees at the siyumim is the ever increasing number of people participating in the daf-a-day program. More and more people than ever before are arising early every morning and going to sleep later every night so that they can learn the daf.

Heroes of our people, these men stuck with it for seven-and-a-half long years. Through times of happiness and sadness, deep cold and oppressive heat, ups and downs, good days and bad days, births and r”l deaths, engagements and weddings, through every challenge that life throws at us, these people persevered and found a way to study the daf.

The massive siyum was a celebration of their achievement. We rise in acknowledgment of what masses of people have done. We offer them acclaim, praise and blessings. We remind them that they are now on a higher plane, more connected with Hashem, and stronger than ever before.

And as much as the siyum celebrated what tens of thousands accomplished in the past, it is also a rousing cry for the future. The siyum says, “These people have surmounted multiple obstacles and succeeded in completing something significant.” But it also proclaims to those who have not yet made the siyum that they can also do it. It celebrates the potential for greatness in everyone.

A siyum is not only an end. It is also an invitation to begin. Perhaps that is the reason  it has become de rigueur for boys to make siyumim at their bar mitzvah celebrations. It is not only to guarantee that the meal is a seudas mitzvah, but also to prove that the young man is off to a good start.

Inspiration For A Lifetime

When we see so many people gathering, we should draw inspiration for the potential of Am Yisroel and each one of us. We should all be motivated to undertake additional learning for ourselves. We should be convinced that it is possible to squeeze more time into the day for more constructive pursuits.

Should everyone learn Daf Yomi? Perhaps not. Perhaps some of us should take upon ourselves to learn a masechta b’iyun, one and then another and then another, until we complete the study of Shas in depth. Is it a realistic goal? It is as realistic as the goal of completing Shas with the daf-a-day program. Perhaps we should undertake to gain a more complete and well-rounded knowledge of halacha so that we can be yet better shomrei Torah umitzvos, yerei’im ushleimim.

No matter which path we embark upon, no one has grounds to say that he cannot learn Shas. No one can say that he can’t learn a daf a day. No one can say that it is an insurmountable challenge.

Oftentimes, we aspire to study or accomplish something, and over time, as we continue pursuing the goal, it appears to slip further and further from our grasp. The weaker ones begin slackening off and delude themselves into thinking that the goal is unattainable. It is too hard, they say. It will never work. It’s impossible to do. They despair, become defeatist, and before long they have given up.

The initial inspiration wears off, and if we don’t have people around us supporting us and encouraging us onward, too often we slip, fall and fail.

The Siyum Hashas is our cheering squad. The Siyum Hashas beckons us onward, proclaiming to us for the next seven-and-a-half years that we can do it.

When we are working towards a goal and it begins to appear unattainable, think of all the people at the various international arenas who gathered to celebrate the ones who persevered through every difficulty and reached the finish line. Think about the people sitting at 7 a.m. around a table in a shul basement in the deep of winter with snow falling outside. Think of the warmth their Torah gives off. Think of their satisfaction and know that you can also do it.

The siyum is a chance for a new beginning. Let us at least make the attempt. It’s never too late to make a new beginning. We’re never too old for a new start.

And then keep at it, one blatt at a time. One day at a time. One day, one blatt. One day, one blatt. And then another and another. Without making you feel overwhelmed, they will begin piling up, and before long, you will begin noticing their effect.

Stick to it. Keep at it. The learning will inject you with a new spirit. You will feel satisfied. And fulfilled. One blatt at a time. One halacha at a time. One sugya at a time.

Mazel tov.