This is Real

By Rabbi Pinchos Lipschutz

 This week’s parsha, Vayechi, tells of the 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, when he was discussing matters relating to the present. Additionally, why did Yaakov feel it was necessary to repeat the request? Why did he call Yosef to his side to make these requests? Why didn’t he speak to the rest of his children and notify them of his wishes?

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. Thus, these favors Yaakov asked of Yosef should 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 explanation of the Baal Haturim in Parshas Vayishlach. On the posuk which recounts that Yaakov said to Eisov, “Vayehi li shor vachamor” (Bereishis 32:6), the Baal Haturim writes that Yaakov wasn’t only referring to his ownership of cows and donkeys, but, more significantly, 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 chamor, has the power of Torah, because of his diligence in its study.

The Ramban at the beginning of the parsha (47:28) states, “Yaakov’s descent to Mitzrayim is similar to our present exile in the hands of the chaya harevi’is, 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. 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, as well as their eventual redemption. 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.”

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 only by asking to be buried in 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 plane. That’s how we 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 the other future exiles. 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 son with 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 - 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: “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 of Yaakov 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 Efraim and Menashe carried a strength that others did not have. The malach who protected Yaakov as he descended into exile from his father’s home, protected his grandchildren in their golus. Yaakov davened that his grandchildren 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 expend their own effort to create the kedusha. The glory that is achieved by hard work and struggle is superior to that which arrives 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 derived satisfaction in seeing that Efraim and Menashe, despite being children of golus, were living as their avos. He perceived that they would serve as a paradigm for future generations, portraying that it is possible to achieve exalted levels even when trapped in a foreign place.

After learning that his beloved son, whom he had not seen in twenty-two years, was alive, Yaakov Avinu hurried to Mitzrayim. On the way, he stopped in Be’er Sheva (46:1). The Medrash states that he stopped there 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 was focused on his mission of leading his family into golus. He maintained his equanimity, ensuring that his children would have what they would need to exist in golus and when they would be redeemed.

The posuk (Bereishis 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 deep secrets about the future. 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 the golus and would merit redemption at the End of Days.

Yaakov wanted to speak about the period of Acharis Hayomim, in which we are now living. He was unable to, as Hashem removed that ability from him. We don’t know what he was going to say. We don’t know when Moshiach will come. We don’t know how much more we will have to endure until that time. What we do know is that if we would dedicate ourselves to teshuvah and tefillah to bring about his arrival, we could hasten his arrival.

The Zohar writes that if only “bei knishta chada,” one group of ten good people, would fervently daven for Moshiach, their efforts would definitely have a positive impact.

As we suffer now from corona and wonder about the incoming White House administration and the political instability in Eretz Yisroel, we are reminded that plagues and political uncertainty are not natural phenomena. They are brought by Hashem to cause us to reflect upon our situation and improve our ways, seeking to become closer to Hashem, who awaits our tefillos and mitzvos.

Nothing takes place in this world unless it is preordained. Our actions affect outcomes. If we want to be rid of the virus, we must demonstrate that we understand that it was brought to this world to cause us to do teshuvah. We cannot continue leading our lives as previously and expect to be rid of the plague. We have to show Hashem that we are better for it.

We have to increase our devotion to performing mitzvos and averting anything that weakens our devotion to Hashem and Torah. Hashem sends us prompts to remind us that our lives require spirituality, focus and purpose. We are reminded that we are in golus and have become shallow, seeking superficiality and being satisfied with trivial pursuits.

The Torah recounts that Yaakov Avinu told his children in this week’s parsha about what he accomplished “becharbi uvekashti,” through tefillah, to convey to us that any time in our lives when we are faced with difficulties, the ticket out is through davening.

Although we don’t have the Bais Hamikdosh, and Hashem is hidden from us, we are able to help and save ourselves through reaching out to Him. With dedicated faith, emunah and bitachon, we can reach Him and merit salvation when we are worthy.

Yosef’s brothers couldn’t face him after he revealed himself to them and told them who he was. They were astounded and embarrassed. They had spent much time with him during their trips to Mitzrayim to procure food for themselves and their families, yet they viewed him as a gentile potentate and had no inkling that perhaps he was one of the greatest tzaddikim of the generation. Had they been seeking gadlus, had they been fulfilling the dictum of Chazal of “Eizehu chochom, halomeid mikol adam,” perhaps they would have perceived greatness in the man they were negotiating with. It wasn’t on their mind. Moshiach must be on our mind.

The Brisker Rov writes in his sefer (Parshas Bo) that unlike Golus Mitzrayim, the final golus in which we presently are in, has no given time period. We were to be exiled in Mitzrayim 400 years, and there was a set time when the Jews would be redeemed from there. The present golus can end at any time, and therefore the geulah can take place as soon as we are worthy.

Chazal and sifrei Rishonim and Achronim are replete with the concept, which is at the basis of our belief, that if we would improve our ways and return fully to Hashem, He would redeem us and thus we proclaim, “Achakeh lo bechol yom sheyavo.”

This is real. When we accept it as reality and act upon it, rectifying our actions, davening with concentration and kavanah, with dedication to Torah learning and observance, we can and will be zoche to the geulah sheleimah immediately. May it happen speedily.

A Nation of Lions

By Rabbi Pinchos Lipschutz

Vayigash is one of the most dramatic parshiyos in the Torah. The sons of Yaakov had strange experiences when they went to Egypt in search of food during a famine. They followed the path of many people and acted no differently than anyone else. There was a hunger throughout the Middle East, and the only place where there was food was Mitzrayim, so the natural thing to do was to travel there in search of sustenance. Yet, this family was singled out for special attention by the prime minister, who was overseeing the entire famine-fighting effort.

Finally, when the leader threatens to jail Binyomin, the youngest son of Yaakov, Yehudah decides that it is time to tell the man that he has overstepped his authority. The strange ruler had demanded that the brothers bring their youngest brother with them if they were to receive any food a second time.

The ruler alleged that the brothers were Canaanite spies and had waged a fake news campaign against them. He took advantage of their situation and toyed with them, but they had no alternative and had to follow his rules.

It was Yehudah who had convinced their father to allow Binyomin to make the trip, personally accepting responsibility for his safe return. And it was Yehudah who stood up to the man and told him that his gambit had run its course and that now it was time to return to objective decency.

The posuk recounts the conversation. “Vayigash eilov Yehudah.” Yehudah approached Yosef. Apparently speaking deferentially, Yehudah referred to himself as “avdecha,” the ruler’s humble servant, adding, “Bi adoni, please my master, allow me to speak.”

Rashi turns up the tone of the conversation, as he writes that Yehudah spoke to Yosef “kashos.” Cloaked in diplomatic niceties, he made it clear that he would do whatever it took to earn the release of his younger brother.

The dialogue reads like a classic showdown between two powerful men, one a leader in his country, the other a leader in his family. Yehudah faced down Yosef, matching his threats and pleas with wile and negotiation.

The Medrash (Bereishis Rabbah 93:2) adds a deeper meaning to the exchange, explaining it by quoting the posuk in Tehillim (48:5) which states, “Ki hinei hamelochim noadu ovru yachdov, heima rau kein tomohu nivhalu nechpozu.” The simple translation of the posuk is, “Behold, the kings assembled, they came together, they saw and were astounded.”

The Medrash interprets the posuk as follows: The kings, Yehudah and Yosef, came together and became angry at each other. The other brothers saw, were astounded, and hastily fled the scene.

The Medrash adds that the other brothers said to each other, “Melochim medaynim eilu im eilu, the kings are battling with each other, onu mah ichpas lonu, of what concern is this to us?” Let them fight it out between themselves. It is not for us to become involved in the confrontation.

With these four words, “onu mah ichpas lonu,” the brothers portrayed what differentiated them from Yehudah and what Yehudah did to earn the eternal position of malchus in Klal Yisroel.

About a melech the Rambam writes (Hilchos Melochim 3:6), “Libo hu lev kol khal Yisroel,” his heart encompasses all. He cares about everyone, takes responsibility for them, and does his best to help them.

The others say, “Mah ichpas lonu.” They witness injustice but leave it to others to fight the necessary battle. They may discuss it and bemoan the problem, but when it comes to doing something to rectify the situation, they balk.

The shevotim were all great men, but when they sized up the situation and saw that Yehudah was taking up the battle, they stood to the side.

Yehudah’s middah of “ichpas lo” set him apart. If there was a problem in the family, it was his problem. If something had to be made right, he had to make it right. He didn’t look for others to rise to the occasion. He did. He didn’t make excuses and affix blame on others. He took charge on his own. Ichpas lo. He cared. That is leadership. That is malchus. That is Yehudah. That is what we all need to aim for. To care. To feel the other person’s pain to the degree that that we do what we can to help alleviate suffering. Sometimes, it involves helping someone achieve justice, and sometimes it means working to ensure that people don’t go to bed hungry.

We are blessed with many such people. Think of the Hatzolah men and the work they have done since the onset of the Covid pandemic, not only transporting people to hospitals, but assisting the ill in many ways. Think of the heroic frontline doctors, nurses and volunteers who haven’t stopped working to save lives. Think of all those who have contributed money to help people in need who they don’t even know.

They do it because ichpas lohem. They care. They are good people of responsibility and heart. When there is work to be done and they can do it, they don’t leave it for others.

I wrote once before of the tale that a wise Yerushalmi shared with me. With the gentle humor and wit unique to residents of the Holy City, he told me about a dog that once entered a small shul. The animal noticed that on top of the aron hakodesh, there was an image of two lions hovering over the Luchos.

The dog was incensed. He asked the people in shul why the lion merits such honor. The shul Yidden responded to the dog that the lion is the king of the animals and thus his image is placed in a special place.

The dog wasn’t satisfied. “Why is the lion king? I am king!” he said.

The men in the shul explained to him: “A lion sits patiently. If you throw an old piece of meat or a dried-out bone in its direction, it won’t react. You can’t buy its love by tossing a moldy cut in its direction. The lion decides what it will eat and what is worth lunging for.

“But you, the dog, come bounding over no matter what is being offered. Rotten or decayed, you accept it. If someone throws a stone, you go and chase it. If it is a rock, you run for it. You will chase after a Frisbee as if it were a steak. That’s why you’re never going to be on a paroches.”

Gur aryeh Yehudah. Yehudah is compared to a lion, king of the animals. Certainly, this has to do with the readiness of a lion to roar, to spring into action, and to react. Ichpas lo. But there is something else as well. A lion is discriminating. It is selective. It is careful about what it accepts. It doesn’t lunge after everything that is thrown its way. It doesn’t sell itself for cheap honor, for a trick or a stick or an old piece of meat. The lion is disciplined. It is malchusdik, because it can’t be bought. It isn’t corrupted or easily won over.

The lesson shared by the witty Yerushalmi is relevant on so many levels. The desire for honor and a platform from which to preach, and the thirst for power, is so strong that otherwise reasonable people are driven to the point where they are cheapened as they chase after that lust.

The Brisker Rov is quoted as saying that in times past, the overriding question before engaging in an activity was if it is permitted or not. In our day, he said, the consideration is whether the action will bring about a desired result or not. Or, in his words, “They don’t think about whether it is mutar or assur. They think about whether it is kedai or not kedai.”

We can understand that when Chazal foretold that in the period leading up to Moshiach, the pnei hador will be k’pnei hakelev, it refers to the fact that people will act as the kelev and sell themselves cheaply if it appears to them that it pays off, even if only in the short run.  

Our primary motivator must be to act responsibly for the public good and not permit minor inducements to steer us from the path of goodness and truth.

The Gemara in Maseches Nedorim (24a) states, inter alia, that a dog says, “Ana demis’hanina minoch velo mishanis minoi - I benefit from you, but you won’t benefit from me.” A relationship with a dog works one way: the dog takes and the man gives. In contrast, a king says, “Ana demanina loch v’at lo mehanis li.” Everyone benefits from a king.

A melech is a nosein, a beneficent giver. He cares about others. A kelev is a mekabel, a taker, caring only about itself and those who feed it.

Thus, in the time of ikvesa deMeshicha, when many are apathetic, selfish and caught up with themselves and their concerns, they are compared to dogs. They don’t have time or room in their hearts for people other than those from who they receive benefit.

The Chofetz Chaim writes (Ahavas Chesed, 14) that if people would do chesed with each other, the final geulah would come. We can bring about the geulah through helping others and feeling their pain.

We may understand that in the period of ikvesa deMeshicha, pnei hador k’pnei hakelev. There will be a klipah of selfishness in the world that will be mekatreig on us. To remove that klipah and curse from upon us, we should emulate the lion, conducting ourselves with dignity, forthrightness and selflessness. We have to be like Yehudah. We must be ichpas lonu-niks. If we would show that we care, we could create new worlds for ourselves and improve the one in which we live, as the posuk (Tehillim 89) says, “Olam chesed yiboneh.”

Opportunities for ichpas lonu abound. There is no shortage of situations where we can show that we care. We can fight for an ideal, for justice, and against those who seek to usurp what is not theirs.

Whatever we do, we should remember that we are bnei melochim and act in a way befitting royalty. When we see people acting improperly, or people who have been wronged, and when we can make a difference in someone’s life or for a cause, we have to rise like a lion.

If we help someone find a job, or get a child into a school, or find someone a shidduch, or listen to someone’s problems; if we lend someone money, or provide a shoulder for someone to cry on, we are fulfilling our mandate as heirs to a royal heritage.

When we leave our comfort zone, when we are kind and compassionate despite having our own problems to worry about, we are acting like a lion and helping bring Moshiach closer.

When Yehudah addressed Yosef, he noted that the Egyptian ruler had asked of the brothers peculiar questions, such as whether they had a father or another brother. As he was ostensibly attempting to determine whether they were men of character, what difference is it to the Egyptian ruler whether these men who came simply to purchase food had a father or brother?

A rebbe once explained that when Yosef asked whether they had a father, he was referring to something deeper. He was asking the brothers whether they had family traditions to which they were loyal. Do you have a solid foundation? Do you have a Father in Heaven whose word you follow and whom you worship, or are you just a clan of roving nomads, coming here to do this country harm?

Perhaps we can add that by asking whether they had another brother, he was referring to the future. Are you people concerned with the youth? Do you connect them with their past? Do you educate them about their heritage? Or do you permit the winds of the times to impact and indoctrinate them?

Yehuda responded: Yeish lanu av zokein, we have an old father, a glorious past, v’yeled zekunim, and a bright future. Vanomer el adoni, lo yuchal hanaar laazov es aviv, v’ozav es aviv vames. The future cannot sever itself from the past, for we understand that if we would permit that to happen, our future is dead.

In order to inculcate in our children - and ourselves - the strength to withstand all that we are confronted with in our time; in order to build the spiritual fortitude to bring up children to be as strong and resolute as Yaakov, Yehudah, and Yosef; to be as responsible and caring as lions, we must embrace the wisdom and conduct that our parents have taught and passed down from their forebears back to the times of the avos and imahos.

We have a royal heritage; we are heirs to good stuff. We are going through tough times. Let us show that we are tough enough to persevere, tough enough to feel the pain of others, and tough enough to help, comfort and console.

We are a nation of lions, not dogs. Let’s show it.

Mah Nishtana

By Rabbi Pinchos Lipschutz

At the end of last week’s parsha, we studied the story of Yosef and how he was thrown into jail, where he languished for ten years. He then interpreted the similar dreams of two former ministers who had fallen out of the king’s favor and were jailed alongside Yosef. One would be beheaded in three days and the other would be reinstated to his former position. Yosef asked him to return the favor, mentioning him to Paroh and soliciting a pardon.

In this week’s parsha, we learn how Paroh was troubled by a pair of his dreams and nobody was able to offer him a successful interpretation. The minister who had been helped by Yosef was reminded of the incident and suggested to Paroh that he tell his dreams to Yosef. He told Paroh that Yosef would be able to offer a proper interpretation of his dreams.

In his first dream, Paroh was standing at the edge of the Nile River, which sustained all of Mitzrayim. Out of the water rose seven beautiful healthy cows that began to graze in the marsh. Then seven ugly thin cows rose from the water and stood next to the first group and ate them.

Upon seeing that sight, Paroh awoke. He went back to sleep and had a second dream. In that dream, he saw seven stalks of healthy, good grain rise together. They were followed by seven thin beat-up stalks, which swallowed the healthy full stalks.

When Paroh awoke in the morning, his heart was beating fast, as he was very disturbed by his dreams. He quickly sent for the country’s expert dream interpreters and wise men to offer him an explanation of what he had seen. None of them were able to satisfy Paroh.

Acting upon the suggestion of his minister, Paroh sent for Yosef and retold his dreams, albeit with some changes and embellishments. Yosef cautioned the king that his interpretations would be Divinely inspired. He foretold that the country would experience seven rich years of plenty, which would be followed by seven poor years of famine.

Yosef advised Paroh to appoint a minister to conserve food during the good years so that the people would have what to eat during the unfortunate years. Paroh was overwhelmed by Yosef’s brilliance and appointed him as a viceroy of the entire country.

We learn the parsha and wonder about the brilliance. To us, it seems so obvious. Of course the hindsight vision helps. We fail to see the unparalleled wisdom and wonder why none of Mitzrayim’s many wise men could come up with that interpretation.

The answer is that none of those wise men in Paroh’s rolodex and none of the professional dream interpreters were interested in the true meaning of Paroh’s dreams. They were looking to enhance their image in the eyes of Paroh so that they would become closer to the king and benefit from the relationship.

They all gave explanations that made Paroh look good. They ingratiated themselves with the king, and each in his own way told him that the dreams pointed to Paroh’s great wisdom and power. Like American election pollsters, each pundit saw the events through the prism of his own professional advancement and was blinded as to the obvious truth.

Yosef, however, as an Ish Elokim, and a student of Yaakov Avinu, whose trait was emes, truth, removed himself and his situation from the equation. He viewed the incidents objectively, without involving his ego and personal prejudices, and thus he was able to explain that the future would bring good years and very bad years. The others, who could never bring themselves to tell the powerful king that something awful was in his future, could therefore subconsciously never entertain the possibility that the dreams were foretelling anything so drastically negative.

It is only someone who, as Paroh himself said (Mikeitz 42:38), has “the Divine spirit within him” who can properly understand that which is transpiring. For he who knows that everything that happens to him is from Hashem does not fear fellow men and is not blinded when trying to understand that which is brought to him for interpretation. Yosef, who feared only Hashem and was loyal to the truth, wasn’t encumbered by personal biases and prejudices.

This is perhaps the explanation of how there can be a prohibition in the Torah not to fear any people: “Lo soguru mipnei ish.” To be scared is a human emotion. If a person feels threatened, how can he be commanded not to fear the danger? The answer is that if a person has proper faith in Hashem, then he knows that everything that happens to him is only Hashem’s will and nobody can harm him if it is not meant to be. Yosef, as the talmid of Yaakov, feared no human.

Truth is always under threat and often appears to be losing to lies and fabrications. In our day as well, especially in this period of time, we see how the forces of evil lie and cheat to advance themselves and their agenda. People fret and worry about the future. They perceive our existence as threatened in a country that doesn’t value morality, integrity and allegiance to ideals. They see many falling prey to various enticements that appear harmless and provide much gratification. Many times, people don’t even realize that they are engaging in acts that dull their minds and deaden sensitivities that have been baked into our DNA.

The Bnei Chashmonai were neither warriors nor military leaders. They were people in whose hearts burned an insatiable desire to rid the world of evil. As we recite in Al Hanissim, they were few and they were weak. But they were righteous. And they had the courage of their convictions. They refused to subjugate themselves to the culture and philosophy of the Hellenists. The glitz and glamour failed to impress them. As heirs to Yosef Hatzaddik, their only loyalty was to the truth of Hashem and His Torah. Armed with emunah and bitachon, the anshei emes went to war to defeat the forces of darkness and sheker.

Under the leadership of Matisyahu ben Yochanan Kohein Gadol, the handful of die-hard tzaddikim and oskei Torah rose up to provide leadership for a dejected, subjugated people. Hashem took note of their courage and self-sacrifice and empowered them with the ability to rally the Bnei Yisroel and to emerge victorious over a powerful and deeply entrenched enemy.

The true leader is not the one who cheats his way up the political ladder. The true leader is not the one who repeatedly lies to his people and engages in subterfuges in a desperate bid to maintain his hold on power. He doesn’t merely pontificate and blame the consequences of his ineptitude on someone else. The true Jewish leader is not crippled by arrogance and ignorance.

The Jewish leader sits bent over a book in a small nondescript room studying the word of the Creator. He imparts his knowledge to others with love and devotion. He parcels out his advice and guidance with humility and subservience only to Hashem. People flock to him not because they are forced to, but because they want to. There are no enforcers and party chairmen to keep everyone in line. Good Jews have an inbred sense of where to go for leadership and whom to follow.

Every night, as we lit the menorah, we remembered this lesson. With its roots branching out from the avodah of Aharon Hakohein in the Mishkon, the lighting of the menorah reminds us how Aharon and his family ascended to the kehunah.

At the time of the chet ha’Eigel, Moshe Rabbeinu proclaimed, “Mi laHashem eilay – Whoever is with Hashem, please gather to me.” The entire shevet Levi rallied to the side of Moshe.

Aharon and his shevet did not take a poll to see which side would win. They didn’t take a head count to try to determine which side would have more people and would be more likely to emerge victorious from the battle. Moshe needed them, so they rose to the occasion. Hashem caused them to win and beat back the idolaters, and thus the plague that threatened the Jewish people was squelched.

That same fire for Hashem and His Torah burned in the hearts of their grandchildren, the Chashmonaim, and because of them and their fearless dedication to the truth, the forces of evil were defeated. They, too, didn’t check to see which way the wind was blowing before taking action. They were not manipulated by public opinion. They did not resort to self-promoting press releases or straddle the fence with diplomatic doublespeak in the face of the campaign to separate the Jewish people from the Torah.

As Aharon Hakohein and his shevet did when they heard the call of “Mi laHashem eilay,” they answered without hesitation. They found the strength within their souls to battle evil and thus caused the spirit of Hashem to return to the Bais Hamikdosh.

Therefore, we celebrate the miraculous military victory of Chanukah by lighting the menorah just as Aharon Hakohein, Matisyohu ben Yochanan Kohein Gadol and millions of fearless Jews have done in all corners of the world under all types of circumstances.

It is the same menorah that my grandfather and your grandfather lit. It is the same menorah kindled by all the valiant Jews throughout history who stood up to those seeking their destruction, all those who answered the call of “Mi laHashem eilay” throughout the generations.

In our day, too, there is a kolah delo posik, a silent call emanating from Sinai and from the Har Habayis and from every bais medrash around the world. “Mi laHashem eilay,” it proclaims. Those of us who light the menorah hear it and answer, “Hineni shlucheini - You can count on me. I will make myself worthy of this mission.” We lit the menorah and reminded ourselves that we are up to the sacred task. Now we have to act on it.

We must conduct ourselves as people of truth, who appreciate the truths of life and live by them. We need to work to keep ourselves and our families pure and untainted by the sheker that envelops us, seeking to tempt us to forsake what makes us great.

People who fight for the truth remain loyal to the types of behavior that have kept us going throughout the golus despite being referred to as backward and irrelevant. They are said to be unrealistic and not with the times. Sheker invariably has the support of the media, which promotes it and its derivatives. People who fight for the truth are maligned, discredited, and referred to as conspiracy theorists and worse. Since the forces of sheker are unable to defeat them in the arena of ideas, they mock, marginalize and ignore them.

The news of the day, the dumbing down of our people and the temporary ascendency of sheker, should not deter us from remaining optimistic about the future and remaining faithful to the Torah values we grew up with.

This week’s parsha (Mikeitz 41:1) begins with the words, “Vayehi mikeitz shenosayim yomim,” and the Medrash (89:1) states, emphasizing the word “keitz,” that Hashem put an end to the darkness. He set a given time for how long Yosef would sit in jail, and when the time was up, Paroh had his dream.

During the First World War, as the battlefront approached, the bombings came closer to the people. One dark night, the bombs fell very close to the population. The people were terrified and went running to the home of the Chofetz Chaim for support and consolation.

He said to them, “I am surprised at you. Is this the first darkness our people have suffered that you are so overcome with fright? We have been through so much as a people. In every generation, there are threats to our very existence and Hakadosh Boruch Hu saves us. He ends the night, shining light into the darkness and saving those who are drowning and cowering in the shadows.

“So, I ask you: Why are you more afraid this night than on any other night? ‘Mah nishtanah halaylah hazeh mikol haleilos?’ Know that every night ends, and when it does, ‘yiboka kashachar oreinu,’ the light will burst forth and a new day will begin.”

Those who are faithful to Hashem have no fear, for even if they are enveloped by darkness, they know that soon the light will shine upon them and the world, and they will be spared further pain and anguish.

May we all merit, very soon, seeing that great light, glimmers of which were evident in the 36 lights of the menorah.

Hope & Change

By Rabbi Pinchos Lipschutz

The Chofetz Chaim foretold that before Moshiach’s arrival, there would be a few resolute individuals who would fight lonely battles. He said that while they might be few, they would be proud and effective.

Every individual has the ability to grasp an ideal and fight for it. We all have a singular mission in life, and if we are true to our core, we can summon the strength to realize and accomplish it. We must never lose sight of what our ultimate goal is, despite all the noise and static seeking to steal our attention. Challenges confront us, but we possess the ability to surmount them.

It is as true today as it was thousands of years ago, when the Chashmonaim confronted the masses to fight with dignity and pride in defense of Torah and mesorah.

On Chanukah, we celebrate the Chashmonaim and their mesirus nefesh for kedusha. The light source of the nation was blocked, and they rose to throw off the forces of darkness. They were the me’atim, the tzaddikim, the tehorim, the people who performed Hashem’s service in the Bais Hamikdosh and in the bais medrash.

We see wrongs in our world and are told that there is nothing we can do about them. Yet, if you look around, you will find many people who overcame odds, building Torah where no one thought it was possible, restoring lives others had given up on, and fighting abuse that people thought was part of life. We see teachers touching souls and impacting them forever. We see righteous men and women not taking no for an answer, standing up to an apathetic society, and awakening people’s consciences. We see people rallying to fight for those who have been wronged. We see people helping others hit by the pandemic and in need of support.

As we learn the story and halachos of Chanukah, we should recognize their relevance to us and our daily lives. The inspiration is there for those who seek it. If each of us would internalize the lesson of the Chashmonaim, we would be so much better for it.

People can wallow in self-pity, upset with their situation and worried about the future, or they can adapt the hopeful message of Chanukah to their lives. They will realize they don’t have to be down and can lift themselves up.

Some look around and see Covid lurking everywhere and fret, while others see it ending soon with vaccines developed in record time allowing the world to return to normal within a few months, hopefully.

The same situation can be viewed negatively and positively. To be happy and to be productive and accomplished, we need to be forward thinking, concentrating our focus on the positive, while being mindful of the negatives.

On Chanukah we celebrate that oil from a tiny flask burned longer than physically possible. A small amount of light overcame the darkness which overtook the Jewish people. The oil lasting longer than one day signifies that if you expend the effort and work b’mesirus nefesh, physical rules will not apply.

It is because of the mesirus nefesh of survivors that Torah and Yiddishkeit are stronger now than ever before. It is because of the dedication they instilled in their children and followers that we can publicly light the menorah with pride and without fear. There was a time not long ago when people were forced to light their menorah behind shuttered windows, lest the neighbors see and cause a very bloody commotion. Thankfully, today it is no longer dangerous to light the menorah where it is visible from the street.

The Rokeiach writes that the 36 lights that we light on Chanukah correspond to the 36 hours during which the great light, the ohr haganuz, shone in the world before Hashem hid it. That light is evident on Chanukah every year. When the world was created, a bright light shone. After man sinned, Hashem removed and hid that light. During the eight days of Chanukah, the brightness of the ohr haganuz, the ever-present hidden light, becomes evident once again, as the cover is removed for eight days. During these eight days, we have the ability to perceive things that most people cannot perceive the entire year.

Perhaps the lights show us who we are and what we are capable of becoming, mirroring the potential that lies hidden from view. The biggest impediment to emunah and bitachon and to improving ourselves is the mistaken belief that we are frozen in our level of ability and unable to raise ourselves and improve.

We fail to appreciate the possibilities and powers that each new day presents. We don’t realize that every day presents the opportunity to recreate ourselves and become a better, happier, more productive person.

Chanukah is a holiday of renewal. At its heart is the message portrayed through the Chashmonaim that a person can be a mechadeish and start over anytime. After many years of persecution, the Jewish people in their day became apathetic and didn’t believe that they had what it would take to fight back and earn their freedom. The Chashmonaim decided that they and their people had suffered enough at the hands of the Yevonim and, though they were few and physically weak, went to war to restore the ability to study Torah and perform mitzvos.

The Chanukah miracle transpired during the era of the second Bais Hamikdosh. Although the people had acclimated to the Greeks and accepted their leadership and way of life, the Chashmonaim sought to convince them that they were capable of improving themselves and their situation. The majority of the Jews had become Hellenized and comfortable with living the life of the advanced Greeks. They mocked the people who remained loyal to traditional observance. With their victory over the Greeks, the Chashomoim motivated the assimilated people who had been lost to their heritage to return to the practices of their grandparents and realize that they could recreate their lives and regain control of their own destiny.

The word Chanukah is rooted in the Hebrew word chinuch, which means inauguration. Chanukah is a time of chinuch, not only because of the chanukas haMikdosh, but also because the Chashmonaim were mechaneich the majority of the generation. The original kiruv organization, they brought the message of Torah Shebaal Peh to the people, motivating and educating them to undertake new beginnings and live a better, less hedonistic life centered around physical pleasures.

We are confronted by challenges. We have goals that we wish we could attain, but they seem distant and too difficult. We just need to recognize that we have the abilities and to believe in them and that they were given to us by Hashem. Once we know that, we can acquire the strength needed to overcome anything and attain any goal.

We should know that there is nothing as new as fresh resolve and nothing as promising and exciting as a new attitude. And that is what we celebrate on Chanukah: the opportunity to discover latent gifts within ourselves. Through contemplating them and seeing them for the first time, we allow them to shine.

We have to tap into the message of these days and their power. We can find a new light. We can find chiddush within ourselves. We can bring newness into our lives.

Things happen and we think we understand what is going on. The Medrash in this week’s parsha (Vayeishev 80:1) states that at the time the brothers were selling Yosef into slavery, Yosef was mourning, Reuvein was mourning, Yaakov was mourning, Yehudah was looking for a wife, and Hashem was working on creating the light of Moshiach. What we believe is a time for mourning, when we only see sadness, darkness and loneliness, can in essence be a step in the birth and revelation of Moshiach.

Even when a believer grieves, he knows that all is not lost and that the light of Moshiach is gathering fuel for its eternal fire.

Many people wish things would turn out differently for them. They have a flame inside of them, but it lies hidden and too often it is dormant.

They don’t believe that they have the ability to peel away that which covers the light. They don’t believe that they have the strength and stamina to improve themselves and their situation.

Chanukah is the time when the inner light is revealed in the world, in Torah, and hopefully within ourselves.

The Yevonim sought to separate the Jews from their observance of Torah. They targeted their spirituality and sought to convert them to lives of secular accomplishment and hedonistic luxury which they had introduced to the world. They were content to let the Jews live in peace. Their beef wasn’t with the Jews as people. It was with their fidelity to Torah teachings and behavior.

To accomplish their goal, they enacted laws against Shabbos, bris milah and Rosh Chodesh, and succeeded in spreading their culture throughout Eretz Yisroel. While many resisted the attempted indoctrination and forfeiture of tradition, many more - those referred to as Misyavnim - became Hellenized. They joined the campaign against their brethren who remained loyal to Torah, actively seeking to bring them over to an enlightened civilization.

No doubt they used Hellenist literature to bolster their arguments. Marshaling their modern-day intellectual proofs, the enlightened ones sought to undermine the old-fashioned beliefs and practices of the backward Jews who clung to their traditional ways. They bombarded the faithful with theories and images intended to dislodge them from their firm grasp of the Tree of Life.

“We are not out to destroy you or force you to engage in harmful conduct. On the contrary, we’re interested only in improving your lives,” the Misyavnim taunted them.

“Don’t you understand that if you would abandon bris milah as it was practiced for thousands of years, your children would be healthier?” the campaign went.

After all, who should know better than the educated, advanced Greeks who brought civilization to the European world. No doubt they began their campaign by attacking mitzvos they didn’t like. Then they brought testimony from prominent Misyavnim to prove their contentions. They claimed that it was only because they cared about the Jews and their children that they sought to ban the practices.

Matisyahu Kohein Gadol decided that it had gone far enough and that he would do everything in his power to halt Jewish subjugation to the Greek gods and philosophies. Armed with the mission of shevet Levi to be shomrei mishmeres hakodesh and the knowledge that Hashem sides with those who fight battles lemaan Hashem without personal agendas, Matisyahu rallied his brothers to his cause. The small band of faithful took on the forces of the Hellenist enlightenment.

As the victories of the traditionalist forces mounted, Misyavnim began returning to their roots. Eventually, almost all the Jews were brought back to rabbinic Torah Judaism.

Yovon is referred to in the Medrash as a force of darkness. The Medrash states that the posuk of “Choshech al p’nei sehom” refers to Yovon. It alludes to Greek mythology, philosophy, art, gymnastics, Olympics - everything perceived by the world as representing advancements in mankind’s so-called evolution from pre-historic times.

The miraculous military victory over Yovon is a dramatic example of how the laws of nature are suspended when singular dedicated souls join together and enable light to triumph over darkness. That reversal of the natural order in their day was made possible by the great acts of courage and heroism carried out by one person, Matisyahu, and his tiny group of followers.

That victory was thus part and parcel of the same dynamic that brought about the miracle of the pach shemen. A flask of oil, which according to its physical and chemical attributes can only burn for one day, can last for as long as is necessary, just as the forces of good, though outmatched by evil in terms of numbers and strength, can thoroughly eviscerate the forces of darkness.

At times, when attempting to solve problems, we are told that we cannot do this or that, or that what we are proposing cannot work. Yet, we see people who are not limited by logic or the laws of nature. They tread where no one has dared step before and they succeed where lesser people vowed that it was impossible.

When we celebrate the miracle of Chanukah by kindling lights in our doorways and on our windowsills facing the street, we are sending out a message of hope to all. This is why the mitzvah is to light the menorah at sundown, as darkness spreads across the city. We are saying through our actions that people need not become depressed when things appear to be bleak and dark, as there is always room for hope that the light can be brought back. Those who heed the message of optimism and work towards a positive goal with emunah and bitachon can and do succeed.

That is why the time of lighting the menorah is “ad shetichleh regel min hashuk,” as long as there are people in the public thoroughfare.

As long as people are out there, we need to remind them of the Chanukah miracle. We need to prominently remind them not to yield to the temptations of darkness.

Don’t surrender to defeatism, we call out to them. Don’t regard what you do as being of minor consequence. Remember that Matisyahu started out as one lonely man of faith with all the forces of the world stacked against him. Because he did not let defeatism overtake him, the Yevonim and Misyavnim were conquered and the forces of good prevailed.

We gather our family around us and light the menorah to proclaim to the world that Hashem felled the mighty, the many and the evil. They were demolished by the weak and the few, the just and the holy.

Hashem had rachmonus on us and fought our battles, causing the zeidim to fall into the hands of the oskei Torah. We sing songs of thanksgiving and Hallel, and we remind ourselves that in our day as well, the Yevonim, in other guises, continually attempt to ensnare us.

We have to be ever vigilant, for if we falter, the forces of Hellenism are waiting to ambush us. They attack upon us with glib propaganda which weakens traditional sensitivities and practices.

Yevonim use all manner of media - social and mainstream - to overwhelm us and cause us to slip in Torah observance. The lights of the menorah proclaim to us to seek out the people who carry the flag of Torah and the Matisyahu ben Yochanan Kohein Gadols of our day and rally around them.

May the message of Chanukah provide us with the resolve to use our abilities to inject greater purpose into our lives and help light up with world with goodness and kindness.

Better

By Rabbi Pinchos Lipschutz

The battle of Yaakov and Eisov that began in the parshiyos of these weeks continues on until this day. The eternal battle takes on different guises, and each generation is faced with a new unprecedented threat. Sometimes the battle is physical, such as in the time of Yaakov, Chanukah and Purim, the Crusades, the Inquisition, the era of pogroms and blood libels, the Holocaust, and the wars and terror attacks of the Arabs against Israel and Jews. Other times, it is a covert war, conducted under the guise of friendship. The goal is always the same: to subvert adherence to Torah and mitzvos and cause the offspring of Yaakov to divert from the correct path.

Yaakov referred to both when he called out, “Hatzileini na miyd achi miyad Eisov - Save me, please, from the hand of my brother, from the hand of Eisov.” He was asking that Hashem protect him and his family from whichever mode of attack Eisov would present, whether he would arrive with guns blazing or attempt to win them over with a brotherly embrace.

Today, as Israel makes peace with some of its former enemies and those who battle its existence have largely been kept at bay, and as the specter of a nuclear-armed Iran rises once again, Eisov largely has changed his battle strategy for now to smother us through the friendly embrace. We have become enamored by his technological advances and allowed ourselves to get sucked up in pursuits that cause us not only to temper our inbred, hereditary, spiritual impulses, but also to become superficial.

Rav Yechezkel Levenstein recounted in a mussar shmuess that following the first World War, the Chofetz Chaim remarked that it was “child’s play compared to the war that would follow.” Rav Yechezkel told his talmidim that the Second World War would be considered child’s play compared to the coming third world war.

He explained that the wars are essentially the forces of tumah battling kedusha. During the First World War, the tumah began to take a bite out of the kedusha. During the Second World War, the tumah dug in deeper, and now, he said, we are in the third world war and the kochos hatumah seek to spiritually knock off sections of Klal Yisroel.

Rav Yechezkel’s warning was delivered many decades before we were facing what we face now. We have to become more sensitive, not less, to Eisov’s enticements and temptations, and work to ensure that we remain true to our core creed. We have to recognize that anything that takes us away from Torah, from properly performing mitzvos, from kedusha, and from proper zehirus from tumah is not for us and is something we should stay away from.

We are living through a terrible period of din, with so many people sick and so many dying. Just this past week, we lost Rav Eliyohu Meir Sorotzkin, a young rosh yeshiva whose entire life revolved around Torah, learning Torah, teaching Torah, and living Torah. An heir to Torah royalty, he carried within him the nobility of Torah and the grace it bestowed upon those who dedicate their lives to Torah to the exclusion of all else.

The koach hatumah is taking bites out of us. We have to fight back by increasing our devotion to Torah and strengthening our commitment to kedusha. We must act as in a physical battle, when people seek to fortify their forces and do whatever they can to overcome the enemy.

Rav Aryeh Schechter, whose first yahrtzeit is this week, told of an incident that happened with his parents and the Chazon Ish in 1948. After Israel declared independence, its Arab neighbors went to war, seeking to destroy the nascent nation in their midst.

Rav Schechter’s parents made an appointment to see the Chazon Ish to solicit his advice about a certain matter. When they arrived from their home in Tel Aviv at the appointed time, they were told that the Chazon Ish left a message for them that he wasn’t able to see them, but that they should not return home and wait until he would be ready for them. They went outside and were waiting in the yard of the house.

The Chazon Ish’s apartment was close to ground level. They looked up and saw him pacing back and forth in his room. His face looked like it was on fire and his lips were moving with great devotion. This went on for a while and then there was a great explosion.

Right after the explosion was heard, the Chazon Ish opened the door to his room and sent for the Schechters, who were quite shaken up. He discussed their issue with them and bid them farewell.

They left to the bus station, where they found out the rest of the story. The Egyptian Air Force set out that day to bomb the large Rottenberg electrical plant complex in Tel Aviv. They missed their target and the bombs fell instead on the Tel Aviv Central Bus Station. This took place during afternoon rush hour, when, on a normal day, thousands of people would be at the bus station looking to return home after a day of work.

The bus station was comprised of two stories. People would enter on the street level and then climb steps to the upper unroofed level, where the buses were located. The bomb hit on the upper level, in the spot where the bus to Bnei Brak would wait to fill up and depart from. Despite the fact that on that day there were much fewer people in the bus station than usual, forty people were killed. A terrible tragedy, but not on the scale of what could have been expected.

The Schechters witnessed the Chazon Ish engaged in a battle with Eisov. Kedusha battled tumah.

The Medrash (Bereishis Rabbah 78:15), quoted and explained by the Ramban (33:15), relates that when Rabi Yannai would have dealings with the Roman overlords, he would learn Parshas Vayishlach before setting out. Chazal had a mesorah that this week’s parsha is the parsha of golus, from which Jews can learn for all time how to conduct themselves in golus. From the subtleties of the exchange between Yaakov and Eisov, the chachomim would formulate the proper angle, hashkafah and negotiating positions to survive under Roman domination.

The Ramban writes that Parshas Vayishlach was written so that we may learn from it, because everything that happened to Yaakov and his encounters with Eisov will happen to his descendants. The way Yaakov dealt with Eisov demonstrates for us how to deal with the Eisovs in our day as well, in whichever guise he attacks us. We fight with hishtadlus and tefillah.

Eternal battles fought and refought throughout the ages are all foretold in the Torah to those who properly study it. The way we deal with national and personal enemies is by studying what our parents, grandparents and forefathers did in similar situations, recognizing that an age-old battle is being played out and can only be won by following the strategies laid out by our grandfather, Yaakov.

One of the more spectacular moments in the extraordinary life of Eliyohu Hanovi was the showdown on Har Hacarmel. Under the influence of the wicked King Achav, the Bnei Yisroel had fallen to a very low level. While still maintaining a belief in Hashem, they worshiped the gods of Canaan. Eliyohu challenged the ovdei avodah zorah to a contest between himself and the 450 prophets of the Baal. Achav accepted the challenge (Melochim I, 18:19).

Eliyohu proposed that each side - he and the nevi’ei haBaal - slaughter a bull as a sacrifice. Each would place their offering atop their mizbei’ach, leaving the firewood on the altar unlit. The group to whose mizbei’ach a fire would descend from heaven to consume the korban would be acknowledged as the correct religion for all to follow.

Word quickly spread and multitudes converged on Har Hacarmel to witness the showdown of kedusha vs. tumah.

Eliyohu offered the nevi’ei haBa’al to go first, since the overwhelming majority of the people supported them and not Eliyohu. They took one of the bulls, slaughtered it, prepared it for their mizbei’ach, and then proceeded to call upon the Baal all through the morning. They jumped, chanted and danced, cutting themselves until they bled, in the manner of their worship. “Yet there was neither a sound nor any response from heaven” (Melochim I, 18:25-26). Their altar remained unlit.

At noon, Eliyohu mocked the priests of the Baal, asking if their god was asleep. They continued their efforts until the time of Mincha, to no avail. There was no response.

Then Eliyohu Hanovi invited the people to draw close and he made his preparations. At the moment of Mincha, he slaughtered his korban, placed it upon the mizbei’ach, and recited a prayer “that this people may know that You... are G-d.”

Hashem sent a streak of heavenly fire to consume the korban, the wood, the stones, the dust and the water. The posuk recounts that the people saw this and fell on their faces, calling out, “Hashem Hu Ho’Elokim.”

Imagine the scene. It was Eliyohu Hanovi’s finest hour, as he stood firmly and courageously facing hundreds of prophets and a powerful king, undaunted. He performed a miracle in full view of the people. No doubt, the prestige enjoyed by Eliyohu was great. The people were in awe of him and his abilities. They were overcome with emotion and lunging for repentance.

Yet, their reaction wasn’t to extol the virtues of Eliyohu and exclaim that Eliyohu is a tremendous tzaddik, baal mofeis, and miracle worker for the ages. They didn’t shout out Eliyohu’s praises as you would imagine they would have. Instead, all who had gathered for the showdown reached the same conclusion and proclaimed as one what would become an eternal declaration of faith: “Hashem Hu Ho’Elokim!”

Rav Yitzchok Yedidya Frankel, the rov of Tel Aviv and father-in-law of Rav Yisroel Meir Lau, would say that this was the greatest tribute to Eliyohu Hanovi. He knew that the role of a Torah Jew is to act as a conduit to cause people to focus on the Source of miracles and might.

This coming week, we will be celebrating the victory of the righteous Chashmonaim over the Eisov of their day. The Chashmonaim were the conduits for the miracles that led to freeing the Jews from the domination of the Yevonim. But they took care to ensure that the celebration was about Hashem, not about them. Their mesirus nefesh in battle was for the cause of bringing about a proclamation that “Hashem Hu Ho’Elokim,” not that the Chashmonaim are effective warriors and baalei mofeis. Their task was to lead to a condition of lehodos ulehallel leShimcha hagadol.

The story of Chanukah wasn’t about the Chashmonaim and their military accomplishments. It was about making the name of Hashem great. The reverberations of that victory echo through the generations.

As we light the neiros Chanukah, we recite the brocha, “She’osah nissim la’avoseinu bayomim haheim bazeman hazeh.” The holy seforim explain the reference of the brocha to “bayomim haheim bazeman hazeh” as alluding to the idea that the same force that enabled miracles back then, bayomim haheim, returns every year at this time, allowing for nissim of our own in our time, bazeman hazeh.

We can all tap into that power. We can become people of kedusha, focusing on bringing glory to the One Who made us, not keeping it for ourselves. If we do that, we will succeed in our missions and merit miracles.

In our generation, people of true commitment are few and the winds seem to be blowing in the wrong direction. Yet ehrliche Yidden remain undaunted.

Our mission in this world is to serve Hashem with temimus, each person in his own way. Our job is not to win every battle, but to remain focused on our task, doing what we can to bring about kiddush Shemo Yisborach. We allow the others to ride high, convinced of their own invincibility, while we judge success not by headlines and public accolades, but by a barometer that has nothing to do with the here and now.

We are not the focus of life’s missions. It is not about temporal praise and honor to us. It is not about acting in a pragmatic, so-called realistic manner, but rather about bringing permanent honor to Hashem by being mekadeish Shemo Hagadol.

The Telzer rosh yeshiva, Rav Elya Meir Bloch, lost his family and yeshiva in the inferno of Europe, but he forged on, determined to plant Telz d’Lita in America. He reestablished the Telzer Yeshiva in Cleveland, then a stronghold of secular Judaism, with not more than a few talmidim.

During the early period of the yeshiva, as he was struggling mightily, Rav Elya Meir made a local appeal for funds. Very few people participated and the response was dismal. Someone advised him to soften his message and speak more kindly about those whom he perceived to be enemies of traditional Torah values. If he would do so, the man told him, he would gain more support from the local community and might even be able to convince some families to send their boys to learn in Telz.

Rav Elya Meir wouldn’t hear of it. “Nowhere does it say that the Ribbono Shel Olam needs me to be a rosh yeshiva, and whether or not I have financial support or talmidim is His decision,” he said. “However, I do know that Hashem needs me to be ehrlich, even without talmidim. That part is not up for negotiation or compromise.”

It wasn’t about him. He didn’t need to build a yeshiva. He needed to build himself. It was about Hashem and his Torah. If he was the right shliach, he would succeed, and if he didn’t, then it wasn’t meant to be. But no matter what happened, his principles, honesty, forthrightness and fidelity to a hallowed creed were non-negotiable.

We have to remain focused, dedicated shlichim to the One Who sent us here and not become impressed by the modern-day pragmatists and Misyavnim. We don’t need to be victorious to win. We need to keep our heads held upright, moving forward and ignoring those who mock us for being old-fashioned, misguided and stubborn. Their inducements do not lure us. Their lies do not impress us. There is but one truth and it cannot be compromised. The Chashmonaim had the courage to identify the danger for what it was. They weren’t impressed by the advanced Greek culture or their barometers of success and popularity. They didn’t follow the glitz and glamour, doing what other people did because everyone did it.

They had a core of time-worn values that they stuck to, and that was what enabled them to beat back Eisov.

In our day, as well, we must, as our grandfather Yaakov, the Chashmonaim, Rabi Yannai, the Ramban, the Chazon Ish, and Rav Eliyohu Meir Bloch each did in their time, fight Eisov through remembering our mission, our task in life and the powers Hashem has bequeathed to each of us to increase kedusha and decrease tumah in our lives and the lives of those we care about, the community and the world in general.

Let us be energized as we learn this week’s parsha to be better and do better so that we can bring about the final defeat of Eisov with the coming of Moshiach.