Light Through Darkness

By Rabbi Pinchos Lipschutz

The world is moving so fast that we can barely keep track of what is going on. After experiencing four years of a weak, ineffective, and incompetent leader who caused the world’s leading country to suffer economically, politically, and morally, last week Hashem brought us a new leader, albeit one with whom we have become familiar.

With a whirlwind of action, he set about undoing the damage his predecessor had wrought and repositioning the country on a trajectory of greatness. He returned common sense to government, replacing years of progressive wokeism detached from reality, science, honesty, decency, and the truth. It will take some time for the changes to sink in, but we should be thankful for the apparent return to morality and openness in government.

We must realize that the change was brought about by Hakadosh Boruch Hu, as the president himself reminded the nation in his inaugural message. Nothing happens by itself. Everything that occurs is caused by the Creator for a higher purpose than is often readily apparent.

It is our obligation to make ourselves worthy of Hashem’s beneficence and appreciate what is being done for us. Certain people have been quick to pounce on actions they don’t comprehend and immediately condemn the president or his assistants, accusing them of being Nazis or anti-Israel, along with other unfounded allegations.

Israel has been fighting a war with the ragtag terror organization that governs Gaza and perpetrated an awful large-scale assault, which included vicious attacks on civilians, wanton killings, widespread violence, destruction of every sort, and abductions. The Jews in Israel have been suffering at the hands of Arabs for the hundreds of years, but the attacks on October 7, 2023, were the worst there in modern history and the worst anywhere since the Holocaust.

Israel declared war on Hamas, saying that its goals were the eradication of that evil group and the return of its captives. After over one year of fighting, Israel has not been able to achieve its objectives, and the new president decided that the war must end - enough spilled blood on both sides, enough fighting with no end in sight. He pushed through a ceasefire tied to a staggered hostage return and freedom for despicable, murderous terrorists.

There are some in this country who accuse the president of betraying Israel, because they don’t appreciate the larger dynamics at play and the daily wounding and deaths of young Israeli soldiers. The image of the invincible Israeli army and soldiers, which was born from the miracles of the Six Day War, is deeply ingrained in the minds of Israelis and Jews the world over, and nothing that happened since has tarnished that picture.

This column is not meant as a screed against the army or anyone else, but as a realistic view of what is happening now. As believers, maaminim bnei maaminim, it is our duty not to get sucked in by propaganda and wishful thinking, but to rationally examine that which takes place and has taken place, seeing how everything that happens is done by Hakadosh Boruch Hu for reasons He understands that will one day be evident to us as well. When He wants the Israeli army to win, they are invincible supermen, and when He does not want them to win, they don’t.

Some wars were miraculously won, as any objective study can show, while others were lost by an army that couldn’t get the job done for a variety of reasons. These included poor intelligence, inadequate planning, weak generals, tactical errors, and the like. This past war was an exhibition of all of the above.

People still wonder how it can be that the Israelis didn’t see the terrorists coming and how it can be that they weren’t able to stop them. Why did it take so many hours for soldiers to finally arrive on the scene? How can it be? They don’t understand. Some frum Yidden also don’t understand, and whenever the topic comes up in conversation, they wonder aloud how it can be.

But for true believers, it is obvious what happened. At other times, Hashem helped them out, opening their eyes and ears to what was going on. This time, they didn’t merit the Divine assistance, and therefore they didn’t see and didn’t hear what was going to happen and then what was happening.

There is no other answer, no other explanation.

These weeks, as we study the parshiyos of Vo’eira and Bo, they should serve to reinforce in us the basic concept of Jewish belief - that Hashem created the world and causes everything that happens in it. Nothing happens by itself. When Hashem wants water to remain in its natural state, it is colorless, odorless, cool, and refreshing. But when He wants to teach the world a lesson, that same water can have the color and consistency of blood. Frogs, lice, wild animals, and grasshoppers can appear out of nowhere and swarm everywhere, eating all the food, torturing the populace, and making normal life impossible.

Each time a makkah was inflicted on Mitzrayim, Paroh realized that Hashem rules over him, as well as the heaven and earth. He brought himself to that realization, but then, when he wanted to go about life according to his wishes, he put out of his mind that Hashem ruled over him and all. Even when it is obvious that success necessitates subscribing to Hashem’s code and living life the way He has prescribed, people seek to compartmentalize and do as they please and as they understand. But it doesn’t work. Just as Paroh invited more destruction and pain upon himself and his people each time he ignored Hashem’s wishes, so do we.

Although there were many reports of soldiers saved by Divine intervention, in this war, overall, Hashem did not cause the Israelis to win, and thus the same army that is widely praised for its prowess, as hard as it tried and as courageously as its men fought, could not put away its enemy. Therefore, it was forced to enter into a lopsided deal to stem the bleeding, end the fighting, and gain back its hostages.

While all of this is going on, the country is convulsing over the attempt to draft yeshiva students, as if that is the problem. If only the chareidim would give up learning and join the army, everything would improve, they say.

At a time when Divine mercy is so needed, the spiritual should be encouraged, not discouraged. Instead of seeking to find favor in the eyes of the Creator, so that He will help secure advances and victories, the country’s leaders seek the opposite. It makes no sense. Once again, they are failing to see and understand the situation they are in.

Paroh and his people lived hedonistic lives, predicated upon their ability to enjoy themselves as they saw fit. Their identity was assumed from the pleasures they enjoyed, from the games and sports they excelled in, the neighborhoods they lived in, and the size of their homes and chariots. All outward manifestations of a people without a core. When facing challenges, they endeavored to ignore them and persist in the pursuit of physical enjoyment, for that was their life.

Chazal teach that the Bnei Yisroel in Mitzrayim didn’t change their names, language, or clothing. Their lesson to us is that, as challenging as it was, the Jews remained a spiritual people of destiny, who lived for a higher purpose and followed the Creator. The physical subjugation and the oppression of servitude were unable to change them, for they remained focused on fulfilling their eternal missions in life.

They hailed from great people and knew that following Hashem’s word would allow them to merit redemption.

And so it is in our day. Those who cleave to Torah, studying it and following its every word, remaining loyal to its mitzvos, concentrate on fulfilling Hashem’s will and seeing His Hand in the happenings of the world and in their own lives. They see perfection and engage in penitence when they sin or veer off track. As in Mitzrayim, those people will be redeemed and will not perish in darkness they have caused themselves by dimming the light of Torah in their lives.

Vacuous people who live selfishly and hedonistically, with a superficial coating of religiosity, jeopardize their connection to the Chosen People, for when challenges and tough times come, they risk not having the strength to maintain the necessary commitment.

Emunah and bitachon are the very foundations of our faith, and as the Ramban writes at the end of his peirush on this week’s parsha, the basis of our belief is to know that everything that happens, regardless of whether it seems to be a miracle or follows the natural course of human life, is all from Hashem. Someone who doesn’t believe in this concept, known as Hashgocha Protis, can be the biggest masmid and medakdeik b’mitzvos but is not considered a believer in Hashem and His Torah.

As we discussed last week, quoting from my rebbi, Rav Dovid Cohen, rosh yeshiva of Yeshivas Chevron, we are now in the period known as ikvisa deMeshicha, literally translated as the heel of Moshiach and loosely translated to mean the time preceding Moshiach’s arrival.

My rebbi, Rav Moshe Shapiro, explains the term, quoting the Gemara (Shabbos 31a), which states that the word emunah, faith, is a reference to Seder Zeraim, which includes the halachos pertaining to planting, the proper conduct vis-à-vis terumos, ma’aseros, and other obligations. The farmer is “ma’amin b’chayei olam v’zoreia,” he has faith in the One who sustains creation and he plants. Why does a farmer need more faith than any other worker? Doesn’t a doctor need faith to heal people?

The seed is unique in that, to cause growth, it must first decompose and disappear. This week, we marked Rosh Chodesh Shevat. On the 15^th day of this month, we shall observe Tu B’Shevat, the day when that rebirth begins, deep beneath the earth. It is still winter, but beyond our view and perception, there are stirrings of new life, the perfect example of true faith.

The farmer needs extra conviction, because there will be no yield for him without the necessary breakdown of the seed. Darkness leads to light. As Chazal say, “Leka nehora delo nofik migoy chashucha—There is no light that doesn’t first come through darkness.”

The emunah of the farmer is the emunah of our nation as we wait for the final salvation to sprout like a seed.

Like a seed that appears to have withered and died, the heel is far from the center of the body, callous and insensitive to feeling. This period is called “ikvisa,” the heel of time. We will have to exist on faith alone, seeing and feeling nothing.

It’s the moment of utter darkness, the blackest part of night before dawn breaks. The seed appears completely destroyed because it’s on the verge of taking root and creating new life.

Great challenges comes along with the hope this thought provides. These challenges increase as the time of Moshiach’s arrival gets increasingly closer. The challenges are physical, causing us pain and losses. Things happen to us, the community, and the world that appear to be destructive and dark. Ideological challenges are also increasingly prevalent, seeking to cast doubt on the faith we must maintain to be redeemed from golus. Our bond to the Torah is in jeopardy.

One of the 13 foundations of our faith as laid out by the Rambam is that “zos haTorah lo sehei muchlefes,” the Torah will never change, and each word is as relevant today as it was 3,500 years ago.

A new light will soon shine over the world, a light that will be recognized by those who are devoted to the Torah. Those who have not been swayed by false promises or misleading interpretations but remain loyal and steadfast in their commitment to the truth will merit the geulah. Those for whom the eternal light of Torah dimmed along the way, as they sought to adapt it to fit modern ideas and sensibilities, will be lost in the dark and never merit seeing the great light that will shine very shortly.

May we study the parsha seriously and absorb its messages so that we and our children will merit the redemption of Moshiach quickly in our day.

Unending Challenges, Unbending Faith

By Rabbi Pinchos Lipschutz

Eretz Yisroel is a nation fraught with disagreements, tragedies, and profound challenges. Since its inception, Israel has faced large and small problems, oscillating between moments of hope and periods of despair. Recently, the situation seems to have deteriorated further. Many of the issues currently confounding the country lack simple solutions, leaving many to search for the root causes of the discord, pain, internal and external conflicts, and the inability to find lasting resolutions.

Years ago, during a visit from Binyomin Netanyahu, I asked him for his perspective on the complex issues Israel faces and the possible solutions. His response was candid: Not all problems have immediate solutions. Sometimes, change requires waiting—for shifts in leadership, changes in the facts on the ground, evolving public opinion, or technological advancements that render current issues obsolete. Some challenges may take a few years to resolve, while others may require a generation or more.

Israel, founded in 1948, was immediately attacked by Arab armies, marking the beginning of its first war. With Hashem’s help, the enemies were repelled, and the state began to take root. The war of terror and fedayeen attacks were persistent, and major wars erupted in 1956, 1967, 1973, and there were a couple with Lebanon and Gaza. The most recent flare-up began with a brutal and unexpected attack by Hamas, which quickly expanded to involve Hezbollah in the north, the Houthis in the south, and, of course, Iran to the east.

While Israel was caught off guard by the surprise attack—something they should have anticipated—the country responded with vigor and bravado. Sadly, the conflict did not unfold as anticipated. The current war in Gaza dragged on far longer than Israeli leaders expected, and its objectives remained unmet. The army was not able to free the hostages, Hamas remains a powerful force, and Israeli soldiers continued to sacrifice their lives until a ceasefire was declared.

International fatigue, not only among Israel’s enemies, but also figures such as President Trump and others in the global community, grew, and Israel’s public relations campaign has been poor ineffective. Wars are perilous, and strong rhetoric alone cannot win them. If you do not prevail in a war, the consequences can be grave. It was under these circumstances that the hostage deal came to fruition.

Now, the questions loom: What can be done? How do we move forward?

In addition to these external conflicts, Israel faces significant internal challenges, particularly concerning military service. The issue of giyus (conscription) remains a delicate and contentious matter. Since its founding by secular Jews, Israel has been divided on matters of religion. The early Zionists sought to replace religion with the state, viewing the ancient traditions of Judaism as irrelevant in a modern, secular society. The founders were familiar with Jewish life from their former homes, but believed that religious observance would naturally fade over time. They hoped to focus on national growth without being encumbered by what they viewed as an ancient albatross with no functional place in their modern society. They were comfortable with maintaining outward and superficial manifestations of Yiddishkeit, and recognized them as necessary components of a Jewish state.

An agreement was reached—the “status quo”—whereby religious communities could continue their practices. One such provision was the exemption from the army draft of religious students who were studying Torah. At the time, Ben Gurion and those of his time believed that religion would eventually disappear, making these issues inconsequential in the long run.

As the older generation that was familiar with authentic Yiddishkeit died out and a new generation assumed the country’s leadership, the relationship became more tenuous. The liberal secularists hate religion altogether, while those on the right are more traditional and tolerant of the religious communities.

As time passed and the religious community grew, tensions between secular and religious Jews heightened. While the left-wing secularists view religion with disdain, those on the right tend to be more accommodating. As the chareidi community expanded, the left began to leverage the issue of giyus to divide the governing coalition led by Prime Minister Netanyahu. They would drive such a wedge between Netanyahu and his partners that the chareidi Knesset members would leave the government and it would fall, bringing new elections, which they believed they could win. They believed that by inflaming public opinion on this matter, they could undermine the right-wing government and regain power.

The Israeli Supreme Court, influenced by cases brought by the Reform movement, is now pressing the government to pass legislation that would mandate conscription for Torah students. The situation has reached a critical point, where even compromise proposals acceptable to the chareidi parties are being rejected by the court, and certain Likud members are threatening to buck party discipline and vote against legislation that chareidim could support, meaning that there may not be a Knesset majority for a bill chareidim could agree to.

At present, a solution remains elusive, and negotiations continue behind closed doors.

So you see, my dear friends, that there are serious issues facing our brethren in the Holy Land, but having just returned from there Monday morning, I can tell you that, by and large, life goes on as usual, with trust that Hashem will provide solutions to these problems and will continue to guide them as He has in the past.

I went to visit my dear friend, Rav Zvi Shvartz, in Rechovot. A veritable powerhouse, he is a revered tzaddik who leads a kollel and a Lev L’Achim kiruv center, spreading Torah and kedusha far and near. His center has touched many lives, and some of those he was mekareiv are now kollel yungeleit who dedicate their free time to running various kiruv initiatives in nearby towns and villages. They bring Torah to people who had no previous idea of what being Jewish is about.

Stories of siyata diShmaya that he has witnessed in his work flow from his mouth as fast as he can speak. One such story involves a young boy from a family he was mekareiv. Rav Shvartz recounted with great emotion how, with siyata diShmaya, he succeeded in enrolling the boy in a cheder, where he is currently a budding ben Torah.

Rav Shvartz shared that his experience with that boy led him to a newfound understanding of a posuk, “Ki simachtani Hashem befa’alecha bema’asei yodecha aranein,” which translates as, “You have gladdened me, Hashem, with what You accomplish, with Your handiwork I celebrate.” He explained that when people work hard to accomplish something and then perceive that it was the Hand of Hashem that guided their efforts, they realize that their accomplishments could never have happened without Divine assistance. Even when they celebrate what they have accomplished, they know that it was from Hashem.

Rav Shvartz introduced me to five of his talmidim, and each gave a brief description of where he goes, what he does, and the changes he brought about. They work hard, are dedicated, and take great pride in what they do, but without Hashem’s help, it wouldn’t be happening.

The visit was fascinating and breathed hope, as it painted an optimistic glare over the negative headlines and pessimistic narratives.

Another fascinating facet of the trip was a visit to three outposts of a relatively new method of bringing back teenagers who have become lost. My dear friends, Rabbis Nechemia Malinowitz and Yehuda Soloveitchik, introduced me to the concept.

In Hebrew, it’s called a “chavah,” which translates as a ranch. In these ranch settings, boys who didn’t make it in yeshiva, school, or life are given new perceptions of their self-worth and their ability to accomplish tough tasks and play leadership roles. They are helped and guided in putting their lives back together and setting them up to be successful and wholesome.

The boys are rehabilitated through hands-on activities with animals, which help to rebuild their sense of self as they learn responsibility and much else.

The chavah, known as Chavat Lechatchila, also contains a yeshiva, Ohel Yaakov, where the boys learn with yungeleit one seder a day. They are located in the area known as “The Bikah,” not far from the Jordan border. The area was largely desolate of Jewish settlement, so their being there also serves the purpose of having Jews present, acting as a warning system should there ever be any attacks, chas veshalom.

In the mornings, the boys serve as shepherds and engage in other activities that teach them responsibility and help their self-worth and confidence grow.

Therapy via animals is a growing field, and at Chavat Lechatchila, you can see it in action, as directed by Rabbi Yecheskel Friedman, a Yid of mesirus nefesh.

After the boys are rehabilitated, they return to their yeshivos, homes, or wherever they want to go to make use of their newfound talents.

I asked for an example of what the boys learn from their interactions with animals. Rabbi Friedman spoke of a remarkable lesson shared by the program’s leaders involving border collies, which assist shepherds in guiding sheep. The dogs are trained to respond to gentle, slow commands, teaching an important lesson: Patience and calmness lead to success, while anger and harshness only create obstacles.

While they primarily work with sheep and goats, there are also horses, snakes, lizards, turtles, and many other animals to care for. There is also a small techeiles factory and a life-size model of the mizbei’ach, where kohanim come to study the avodah they will soon be performing on the mizbei’ach in the Bais Hamikdosh in Yerushalayim.

These programs have already had a profound impact on many young lives. However, due to limited funding, they can only serve a fraction of those in need. If supported, these initiatives could help many more young people reach their full potential and reintegrate into society. There are currently thirty boys in Rabbi Friedman’s program, and he can accommodate up to 100 with proper funding.

Despite the tumultuous challenges Israel faces, there is hope. When we recognize that everything is under the control of Hashem, we can see that even in difficult times, His goodness is present, though sometimes hidden. There is so much good. All you have to do is look for it, and you will find it.

I visited my rebbi, Rav Dovid Cohen, and discussed various topics with him, such as the giyus matter and the deal for the return of the hostages. I asked him what I could tell the people back home who worry about the matzav in Eretz Yisroel and want to know how they should understand what is happening.

He said that there is no doubt that we are living in ikvesa deMeshicha, the period leading up to the arrival of Moshiach, who will redeem us and bring the world to its tachlis.

The Vilna Gaon taught that as we are in ikvesa deMeshicha and approaching the final geulah, we experience the birth pangs of Moshiach, and the closer we get to the coming of Moshiach, the sharper and more painful the pangs become.

The severe crises and problems we are experiencing and dealing with now are indications that Moshiach’s arrival is rapidly approaching.

“What we must do now is tzu shtarken,” he said. We must strengthen ourselves, our limud haTorah and hachzokas haTorah, dikduk b’mitzvos and teshuvah, for the Rambam says that teshuvah is what will bring about the redemption.

The rosh yeshiva quoted the Chazal that the Chofetz Chaim would repeat: “Mah yaaseh odom veyinotzel m’chevlei Moshiach, yaasok b’Torah ub’gemillus chassodim.” To be spared from the chevlei Moshiach, a person should busy himself studying Torah and performing acts of kindness.

There are many problems now in many different areas of Jewish life, but with faith, perseverance, and trust in Hashem, we can face these trials with strength and optimism. We must not become broken and should never despair, regardless of what is going on in the Jewish world or in our personal lives.

No article on a trip to Eretz Yisroel is complete without a taxi driver story. This one is a little different. I flagged down a taxi in Geulah to take me somewhere. The driver was not an old bitter Likudnik, like so many others. Rather, he happened to be an Arab. I was discussing with him various experiences of his job and the patience required to navigate slowly moving traffic on packed, narrow streets. Suddenly, he says to me that he loves driving in religious areas, for “the customers are unfailingly polite and honest, boruch Hashem!”

“I try to stay away from secular areas. They don’t treat me as well as the religious people.”

Every one of our interactions with people makes a mark and a difference. How much better off we all would be, and the world would be, if more people would speak of us the way that taxi driver does.

Each time we interact with someone, whether it is a fellow Yid, someone we know, or someone we don’t know, it is an opportunity to make a kiddush Hashem and help bring Moshiach closer. If only people would see how we speak and behave financially and socially, and would walk away saying, “Mah no’eh maaseiheim,” how nice and special these people are, much of the hatred against us could be mitigated.

Despite the situation, Hashem provides for us avenues of escape, of improvement, and of ways to provide zechuyos for ourselves and for Am Yisroel. Let us be wise and grab those opportunities so that we can quickly merit the realization of Hashem’s kindness and the revelation of Moshiach speedily and in our day.

Sparks Amidst the Darkness

By Rabbi Pinchos Lipschutz

This week, we begin the study of Seder Shemos, recounting the story of Yaakov’s descendants in Mitzrayim. First, we learn of their subjugation and servitude, followed by their eventual freedom and redemption. Finally, we see how they became a nation at Har Sinai and the construction of the Mishkon.

The era of the avos has ended, and now the era of their children, the Bnei Yisroel, begins. After a rough start, they ultimately rise to the expectations placed upon them and earn the Torah, the mitzvos, and a profound connection to Hashem.

Jews are often compared to the moon, going through periods of contraction and darkness, which are always followed by periods of remarkable rejuvenation and growth. This has been the case since our earliest days in Mitzrayim, and it remains true today. Not so long ago, we were decimated and nearly lost, yet slowly but steadily, we have surged back, and in many ways, we are stronger than ever.

In Lakewood alone, there are some 40,000 children in elementary schools, 4,500 talmidei chachomim studying Maseches Yevamos in Bais Medrash Govoah and many thousands more than in the past millennium learning all the masechtos of Shas there. This doesn’t even account for what’s happening in other cities and towns across the United States, in Eretz Yisroel, and around the world.

It all began with the freed slaves who emerged from Mitzrayim and stood at Har Sinai. We have come a long way since then, though we are still in golus, struggling to find our place. Many of us continue to do our best, and always at the forefront of our minds is the deep yearning to return home to Eretz Yisroel.

Yerushalayim calls to us, even as we have learned to live in golus. In our hearts, we know that we do not truly belong here, and we understand how easily the good days can come to an abrupt end. We know we are meant to be separate, holy, living on a higher plane, and following in the footsteps of our great-grandparents who led lives of physical simplicity and spiritual greatness. With mesirus nefesh, they steadfastly refused to deviate from the teachings of their parents and teachers, despite the cost.

In the modern era, it has become difficult to live as they did and to keep future generations on the path of modesty, self-restraint, innocence, and virtue. Torah flourishes all around us, but we need it to grow within us as well.

We can only achieve this by dedicating ourselves to Torah study, learning Gemara with its meforshim, Rishonim, and Acharonim, and studying classic sifrei mussar, which serve to elevate, purify, and ground us.

When we study the weekly parsha, reviewing and striving to understand the eternal words and lessons of the pesukim, they remind us of who we are meant to be. The lessons are clear, laid out for us and reinforced week after week by our rabbeim and rabbonim, who educate us on what our priorities should be. The lessons of the weekly sedrah remind us of where we came from, how we should behave, and what we should strive for. Through them, we can find success and fulfillment, achieving the goals and purposes that the Creator has set for us.

By studying the parsha each week and nurturing our neshamos through limud haTorah, we are kept grounded in a world where fiction often masquerades as truth and people put more effort into appearances than into true achievement.

It doesn’t take a genius to recognize the corruption and incompetence that reign around the world. Yet, millions of people see what we see, and time and time again, they elect leaders who embody those very qualities. They vote for candidates whose platforms are built on lies, who do little more than read speeches written by others, and who, once in office, raise taxes, contribute to moral decay, and prove themselves incapable of fulfilling the responsibilities they were entrusted with.

Many argue that there is little difference between candidates from the two major parties. However, consider the consequences of the current president’s tenure. Under his administration, inflation skyrocketed to near-historic levels, depleting your finances every time you make a purchase. Nearly every aspect of life has seen rising costs, while value and quality have sharply declined over the past four years. He has consistently supported and empowered individuals whose actions threaten to undermine the moral foundation of this country. The list of disasters he has caused and exacerbated—both domestically and internationally—is too extensive to list here. However, one thing can be said: The only silver lining is that his time in office is soon coming to an end.

California is a beautiful state, a veritable paradise, but much of it is being ruined by misguided leadership. Fires rage out of control, causing astronomical damage. The apocalyptic images of terrifying destruction continue to plague people as the infernos burn. The authorities, from the ambitious governor on down, have been shown to be completely inept in managing the state, contributing to the very catastrophe people have been warning about for years.

Due to their laws and agendas, the main reservoir was emptied, the fire department was more focused on diversifying its firefighting force than improving it, the fire hydrants didn’t work, and there simply wasn’t enough water, all due to misguided environmental practices. When the Los Angeles mayor heard about a devastating fire starting, she quickly flew to Africa, only to return in a panic, revealing her incompetence.

When we witness the results of errant leadership, we are reminded of what happens when people fail to use the common sense Hashem has granted them. If we are yirei Hashem, we must learn from what we see around us and strive to improve ourselves. When we see the destruction caused by evil, irresponsible actions, we should learn from those experiences and quickly mend our ways.

We should turn to the pesukim and see how our avos conducted themselves and how Hashem directed them. When we daven, we should do so with more kavonah, taking time to say each word properly and think about what we are saying.

When reciting Krias Shema twice daily, slowly and carefully, we say the words, “Vechorah af Hashem bochem v’otzar es hashomayim velo yihiyeh motor,” meaning that if you conduct yourselves improperly, Hashem will shut the heavens and there will be no rain.

To understand the significance of this, we need only look at the multi-million-dollar mansions that were quickly reduced to ashes. People who thought they were invincible, whose castles could withstand anything, learned a very quick lesson about the vulnerability of man.

Despite their wealth and status, they were reminded that material possessions, no matter how opulent or carefully protected, can be destroyed in an instant by forces beyond their control. The experience highlights the precariousness of even the most extravagant empires, showing the fragility of security and the limits of wealth in the face of Hakadosh Boruch Hu’s power. It also serves as a reminder that true stability and safety cannot be bought. They must be earned.

We are a people set apart, called to embody purpose and conviction. We were created to stand for something greater, with values that run deep and are held with unwavering sincerity. We, as a people, are not meant to be corrupt or immoral, nor are we to worship wealth or those who possess it. Our calling is not merely to speak of our values, but to live by them, every day, in every way. We are to uphold them with integrity and to respect only those who do the same.

In this week’s parsha, we are introduced to Moshe Rabbeinu. After a blissful childhood in the royal palace, upon his first exit from Paroh’s compound, he witnessed the suffering of his enslaved brethren. He also came upon two evil individuals and reprimanded one for slapping the other. For this act, he was forced to flee to Midyon. Speaking of “come-downs,” he went from a pampered life to working with sheep as a lowly shepherd in the blink of an eye. But as with everything else in life, this shift was arranged by Hakadosh Boruch Hu, who had far greater plans for Moshe Rabbeinu.

One day, as he was leading the sheep to pasture on Har Choreiv, he noticed a burning bush. As the fire raged, he observed that the bush’s branches were not being consumed.

Moshe approached the bush to investigate this strange phenomenon. He thought that perhaps something supernatural was happening and that there might be a lesson in this occurrence for him. He sensed a hidden sanctity in the blaze.

Hashem called out to him from the bush and told him that he was standing on holy ground. Hashem then instructed him to return to Mitzrayim and lead His people to freedom in the Promised Land.

Hashem chose Moshe as the leader of the Jewish people because, instead of ignoring the burning bush, he approached it and recognized holiness. Though he was in a desert, his life was centered around kedusha, and wherever he went, he searched for kedusha.

When Moshe saw a fire burning without being fueled as a natural fire would be, he stopped. Perhaps he had stumbled upon the kedusha he had been seeking. In the darkness of a strange land, amidst the emptiness of a desert, he found it.

This moment identified Moshe as the one who could lead the children of Avrohom, Yitzchok, and Yaakov from the depths of Mitzrayim. As we exist in golus, the ability to distinguish fact from fiction, and holy from vile, is paramount. Striving for a life of kedusha and constantly seeking kedusha by examining and learning from our daily encounters is what keeps us on the path from golus to geulah.

Throughout our history, our leaders have been able to perceive holiness where others saw emptiness. They saw holy sparks where others saw darkness, and they found glory in a lowly bush with no chance for growth.

In golus, there are times when people want to give up. They see danger, they see destruction, they feel social hatred and cultural depravity on all sides, and they think it’s over. They see people who have erred and veered from the holy path, and they give up on them. They think that nothing good will ever come from them. They are burnt out. Yet, the good and the great see sparks of holiness waiting to be ignited.

Each week, as the melava malka candles flicker, we gaze at them and reflect on the sublime joy of Shabbos, wondering how we’ll face another week—six more days of zei’as apecha—until we can experience Shabbos again.

The transition from Shabbos to Motzoei Shabbos mirrors what the Bnei Yisroel faced as they left Eretz Yisroel and moved to Mitzrayim to escape hunger. They left behind light and holiness and descended into darkness and defilement.

We partake of melava malka to ease that transition. We sing “Al tira avdi Yaakov.” We say, “Do not fear. You are equipped with the strength and ability to rise above it all and remain true to yourselves, to each other, and to the Torah if you remain loyal to the teachings and lessons transmitted from one generation to the next from avdi Yaakov.”

“Hakol kol Yaakov.” With the calm voice of Yaakov, with the restrained middos of Yaakov, with the temimus of Yaakov, and with the dedication to Torah that Yaakov personified, we can overcome.

We can bring salvation to those who suffer. We can push back against those who torment us. We can overcome the challenges that threaten us. We can support those who are struggling and return those who have fallen away.

We press on, always growing, moving upward, and reaching new heights every day. Each day represents an opportunity to improve in Torah, kedusha, emunah, and bitachon. We observe the world around us and learn lessons from watching others falter.

We witness natural occurrences and pause to ponder, think, and grow from what we have seen.

Where others see darkness, we see the boundless potential for light to emerge. Where others are lost in loneliness, we recognize the profound opportunity to extend friendship, connection, and community. Where others witness destruction and fires consuming all in their path, we see fertile ground for renewal—an opportunity to rebuild, re-grow, and cultivate something even more beautiful and lasting than before.

We do not shy away from the challenges before us. Instead, we embrace them, knowing that within every hardship lies the seed of transformation. In every shadow, we discern the dawn of hope, and in every setback, we sense the chance to rise higher until we merit the coming of Moshiach speedily in our day.

Believe in Yourself

By Rabbi Pinchos Lipschutz

With Parshas Vayechi, the fascinating sefer of Bereishis draws to a close. Without giving any detail about anything that went on in Yaakov’s life during his seventeen years in Mitzrayim, the Torah skips to the period when he was weakening and approaching death. Yaakov called for Yosef and made him swear that he would guarantee his burial in the Meoras Hamachpeilah with Avrohom and Yitzchok.

The pesukim go into detail about Yaakov’s discussions with Yosef concerning Efraim and Menashe before telling us that Yaakov gathered his sons for them to hear what would happen to them in the times of Moshiach. The pesukim don’t tell us what he told them, and Chazal teach that Hashem prevented him from revealing those secrets.

Yaakov then launches into a poetic conversation with his sons. The conversation is referred to by the posuk (49:28) as brachos that Yaakov transmitted to his beloved children prior to his passing. However, if you examine the pesukim and what he told them, they don’t appear to be brachos, but rather a verbalization of each son’s attributes, mostly positive, but some negative. If so, why do we refer to what he said as brachos?

Rav Chaim Soloveitchik was once trying to make a point to a student at the Volozhiner Yeshiva who was falling behind in his learning. He spoke to him and said, “You know, my dear talmid, that the horse is a very strong animal, constructed of muscle. It can work hard, run fast, pull heavy loads, and perform a variety of tasks. Yet, this animal is pulled by a youngster with a rope and never thinks of trampling the youngster and breaking free. When the horse’s owner, who has ridden on its back for long stretches of time, reaches his destination, he ties his horse to a simple post with a simple rope, and the horse just stands there and doesn’t try to run away.

“Why is it that such a strong beast is so docile?” asked Rav Chaim. “It is because the horse doesn’t appreciate its strength. If it would, a piece of rope would never be able to contain it.

“The reason you are not doing better in your learning is because you don’t appreciate your kochos.”

Similarly, Yaakov, upon addressing his children one last time, gave them what they needed to excel and carry out their missions. He did this not by blessing them per se, but by enumerating for each one their strengths and abilities. By doing this, he gave them the encouragement and motivation they would need to be proper Shivtei Kah. Thus, they and their shevet would be able to live up to what was expected of them in Eretz Yisroel and in golus, building and strengthening Yiddishkeit and preparing the world for the ultimate geulah.

There is no better brocha than appreciating our gifts and using them for the tachlis for which Hashem placed us on this earth. Otherwise, we can go through life living simply, not learning or accomplishing much, blissfully unaware of our potential for greatness and ability to accomplish great things.

A person who doesn’t appreciate his strengths, or is not aware of them, is held back from excelling and fulfilling his shlichus, much the same as that Volozhiner talmid who was not able to keep up with the others.

Also, the ability of a person to recognize his gifts and strengths is vital for personal growth, fulfillment, and contributing meaningfully to society. When a person acknowledges his abilities, he not only gains self-confidence, but also cultivates a deeper sense of purpose. This awareness enables us to navigate challenges, pursue goals, and contribute positively to the world around us.

Self-awareness is key to unlocking our potential. Moreover, recognizing our strengths builds self-confidence. Confidence is not about arrogance or superiority, but about a grounded belief in a person’s singular abilities. Appreciating the gifts Hashem has endowed us with also helps us face challenges with a sense of assurance, knowing that Hashem provided us with the tools and skills to navigate difficult situations. Life is full of ups and downs, and those who understand their strengths are better equipped to overcome setbacks with a positive attitude.

This also answers the Ramban’s question of why Yaakov made Yosef swear that he would make sure that Yaakov would be buried in the Meoras Hamachpeilah. Why was it necessary for Yosef to swear that he would fulfill his father’s request? Did Yaakov not trust his beloved son?

We can explain that Yaakov feared that the Mitzriyim would raise objections to removing him out of the country for burial. He wanted Yosef to know that his father believed that he had the ability to carry out his wish. By swearing, Yosef confirmed that he recognized that despite how difficult this would be, he possessed the power to see it through to the end.

Often, when people would ask the Steipler Gaon to daven for them, he would tell them that they should daven for themselves. Every person has the ability to cry out to Hashem, and if he does so with proper kavonah, emunah, and bitachon, Hashem will respond to his tefillos. Hashem never forsakes a Jew and is always watching over him, waiting for the person to properly reach out to Him. No Jew is ever alone.

The Klausenberger Rebbe was raising money to build his Laniado Hospital in Netanya. He went to see a wealthy man and asked him for a handsome donation for the project. The man heard the pitch, but was noncommittal in his response. He told the rebbe, “I’ll do what I can,” which usually means not too much.

The rebbe responded, “Do you know what you are capable of doing? Do you really think that you know what you can do? A person has no idea of his capabilities.”

He continued, “Let me tell you about myself. I was already a Rebbe before the war. I lived in the city of Klausenburg and was immersed in avodas Hashem day and night. As a result, I was weak and sickly. When I wanted to bring a Gemara to the shiur I was saying, I didn’t have the strength to carry it and would ask a talmid to carry it for me. The gabbai would carry my tallis and tefillin because they were also too heavy for me to carry.

“Then the war broke out and I was imprisoned in numerous labor camps. When I was in the Mühldorf concentration camp, the Nazis would give me 110-pound bags of cement to carry on back. And, do you know what? I did it!

“How was it possible? The answer is that a person does not know what he is capable of doing. He thinks that a task is too difficult for him, but he really has the strength to do that and a lot more. So be careful when you say that you will do what you can, because you have no idea what you are obligating yourself to!”

Yosef had been tested and had demonstrated his spiritual strength in a degenerate society. Mitzrayim was infamous for its culture of moral decay. By maintaining his righteousness in such an environment, Yosef attained a stature almost comparable to that of the avos. He imbued his descendants and all of Klal Yisroel with the spiritual fortitude to rise above temptation and seductive influences in all their lands of exile.

When Yosef brings his sons to Yaakov for a final brocha, Yaakov blesses them with the immortal words, “Becha yevoreich Yisroel leimor, yesimcha Elokim k’Efraim v’ch’Menashe.” For all time, Jewish fathers will bless their children that they grow to be like Efraim and Menashe, the sons of Yosef.

A hint to the reason why may be found in the first Rashi of the parsha. Parshas Vayechi is unique in that it is setumah, meaning that there is no extra space between it and the preceding parsha, unlike the general rule that a parsha begins on a new line or that it is separated from the previous one by a space of nine letters. In explaining why the parsha is setumah, Rashi notes that with the passing of Yaakov Avinu, the shibud intensified. In other words, the golus of Mitzrayim – particularly the pain and the challenge of being a lonely minority in a hostile environment – first began to manifest at this point.

When Yaakov realized that his end was near, he decided that it was time to prepare his children and their children and descendants for life in golus.

Yosef was the son who had arrived first in golus and had paved the way for the Bnei Yisroel there. Though Yosef lived alone in golus, he lived an exemplary life, raising worthy, upright children. Yaakov singled them out for praise and showcased them as an example of how Jews all through the generations would be able to survive the golus.

Living alone in the swamp of evil, their father imbued them with the strength he knew that he had and made sure they did too. Yaakov demonstrated to the other shevotim and to Jews for all time that even in darkness, even in exile, even when all alone, they all possessed the strength of Yosef and his children and would be able to remain gutteh Yidden.

Yaakov turned to Menashe and Efraim and said, “Becha yevoreich Yisroel,” because although they were born in and grew up in Mitzrayim, before Yaakov came and before Yehudah set up yeshivos in their country, they still were as holy as their cousins who had grown up under the direct influence of Yaakov.

Yaakov said that for all time, wherever they find themselves, Jews should study the example of these two scions of greatness and point to them as examples of how they want their own children to develop, despite the tumah and moral bankruptcy around them.

Yosef and his children not only demonstrated that the offspring of Yaakov have the ability to live and excel anywhere the golus leads them, but Yosef is also the one who paves the way for geulah. He is the one who returned Yaakov to Eretz Yisroel. He is the one who will defeat Eisov. He is the one who will herald the coming of Moshiach, because he was the first to be tested in golus and thus first to recognize his strengths, which lifted him and enabled him to raise children equal to the shevotim, showing them and us the way, not only to survive, but to be a shining example for all time of tzidkus and prishus.

Let us never say that the task is too difficult for us. Let us never say that we are doomed to mediocrity and the limitations of what we can learn and accomplish.

At times, people fall into the trap of believing that their current circumstances or past failures define their potential. This mindset can create a false sense of security in the ordinary and prevent one from striving for excellence. Mediocrity, though comfortable, stifles growth and keeps people from reaching the heights of their true capabilities. When we view ourselves as incapable of more, we shut the door on the opportunities that lie beyond our self-imposed boundaries.

When we say that Gemara is too difficult for us to understand, when we say that we can never understand a Reb Chaim, when we say that our minds weren’t made to work out a machlokes between Rashi and Tosafos, it is because we sell ourselves short and don’t believe in our brainpower. If we would apply ourselves, believe in our abilities, and work hard, horeving on the sugya, we would understand it and enjoy it.

People are usually capable of more than they think. Growth requires a shift in perspective. We must be able to understand that we are not limited by past experiences or present circumstances, but are capable of learning, evolving, and surpassing what we think is possible. Mediocrity sets in when we settle for “good enough” and don’t push ourselves to do better, be better, and reach higher.

Excellence is not reserved for a select few. It is within everyone’s reach. To attain it, we need to have the courage to push beyond self-doubt. The path to excelling in life is paved with tefillah, emunah, and bitachon, along with hard work and self-belief.

We would do ourselves well to constantly be aware that Hashem endowed us with tremendous strengths and abilities, and every person’s strengths are different. Hashem gave us what we need to pursue excellence in Torah, in tefillah, and in doing mitzvos properly and in a timely and preferred fashion. He gave us what we need to do well in yeshiva and school. He gave us what we need to get married and then provide for our families. He gave us what we need to get through life in a successful and fulfilling way.

All we have to do is appreciate those gifts, recognize how blessed we are as children of Avrohom, Yitzchok, and Yaakov, and know that each one of us can be like Efraim and Menashe.

Brothers

By Rabbi Pinchos Lipschutz

This week, in Parshas Vayigash, Yosef breaks down and ends the charade he had been maintaining with his brothers. Each time they came to Mitzrayim seeking food for their families, Yosef found ways to torment them. In last week’s parsha, we learned how he forced them to bring their youngest brother, Binyomin, and then threatened to imprison him along with Shimon.

Though the brothers had accepted his strange conditions until now, Yehudah let him know that they were not going to accede to his latest demand. For the first time, Yehudah spoke back strongly to Yosef. While the brothers had gone along with Yosef’s terms regarding the other matters, they could not jeopardize Binyomin’s freedom. All along, their need for food forced them to play along with the viceroy’s strange behavior and demands, though they were totally out of line and not sensible. As the leader of the brothers, Yehudah took upon himself the task of spokesman.

Yosef was overcome when he saw how much his brothers cared for each other. Furthermore, Yosef had overheard their discussions during their earlier trip to Mitzrayim, when they expressed regret over selling him and acknowledged that they had not properly understood the pain they caused him (Bereishis 42:21-22). Although they had initially reasoned that Yosef deserved to be sold, they began to feel that they had made a mistake and repented.

With their brotherly feelings toward Yosef restored, and their concern for Binyomin clearly evident, Yosef realized that his objective had been achieved. There was no longer a need to torment his brothers. The brotherly love and unity had been revived, and now the shevotim could move forward in fulfilling Hashem’s plan for the formation of Am Yisroel.

As for the way they had treated him, Yosef let them know that as a person who had bitachon in Hashem, he knew that the brothers were only pawns in Hashem’s plan. Thus, after revealing himself to them, he said (45:8) “It wasn’t you who sent me here. It was Hashem, Who placed me in the position of an assistant to Paroh and a ruler of the country.”

Yosef didn’t bear a grudge against his brothers, because he understood that they were Hashem’s messengers, who were like actors reading lines that were written for them and taking part in a plan designed for a higher purpose. A person with bitachon doesn’t carry around resentment against other people. What they did to him was not their fault, and it was done for a good reason, which will be revealed in the future. Yosef had already seen some of the reasons that Hashem had caused his brothers to hate him and sell him into slavery.

[Besides, harboring resentment is never beneficial. It leads to bitterness, negativity, and anger—none of which are helpful or productive, and they certainly won’t help you achieve anything.]

Yosef and Binyomin embraced each other and wept. Chazal teach that their tears were not for the pain of separation or the joy of reunion, nor were they mourning their mother, whose tears would later define a nation. Rather, they wept over the future destruction of Mishkan Shiloh, which would be located in the portion of Yosef in Eretz Yisroel, and the two Botei Mikdosh that would be built in the portion of Binyomin.

These tears were not just for the tragedies of their time, but for events that would unfold in the distant future. They cried for the suffering of their descendants, future generations of Jews, through times of great destruction. Just as their mother, Rochel, would weep for her children, so did they weep for the Jewish people throughout the ages. They put aside their personal emotions and became consumed with concern for their brethren. This selflessness is at the heart of what it means to be a Jew.

The Chashmonaim demonstrated this same spirit. When they saw how Am Yisroel was being threatened by the Yevonim, they fought back, despite the great peril to themselves. With millions of Jews at risk of assimilation, they didn’t think about their own welfare, but instead took up arms, fortified with faith that Hashem would grant them victory. They understood that when a brother is in danger, we must do whatever we can to protect him.

The lights of Chanukah, which brought joy and hope to our homes, communicated this very message for eight days. The menorah’s light energized us to face our struggles throughout the year. Yet, even as the glow of the menorah fades, we must hold on to its light during the inevitable dark days that follow.

One of the many lessons we learn from examining the actions of our forefathers in the parshiyos of Sefer Bereishis is that they viewed their experiences not as isolated events, but as part of a greater Divine plan leading to the ultimate redemption. There are challenges along the way, as well as moments of great joy. Our task is to remember that whatever course we are on was charted by Hashem for a purpose larger than ourselves and our immediate circumstances.

When Avrohom Avinu was on his way to the Akeidah, he saw Har Hamoriah in the distance (Bereishis 22:4). He envisioned the future, the eternal nature of the korbanos that would be brought there, and the glory that would emanate from that holy site. He asked his companions if they could see what he saw, and when they replied that they could not, he told them, “Stay here with the donkey, while I go up with Yitzchok to the mountain you cannot see.” Avrohom compared his companions to the donkey, because those who could not see the future were like an animal driven only by instinct, with no deeper vision of what lay ahead.

In Parshas Vayigash, we read of the emotional reunion between Yaakov and Yosef, a reconnection that came after many years of separation and suffering (46:29). Yet, instead of merely rejoicing in their reunion or catching up on lost time, Yaakov Avinu’s response, as Rashi explains, was to recite Krias Shema. Yaakov understood that the reunion of his family signified something much greater. When he saw the unity between his sons, he recognized that the formation of the shevotim was on track and that Hashem’s plan for the establishment of Am Yisroel was unfolding. He knew that although they were beginning another exile, it was all part of Hashem’s greater plan for the Jewish people.

At that moment, Yaakov was overwhelmed with the realization of Hashem’s greatness, and Krias Shema expressed his recognition of the Divine hand in the unfolding story.

By adopting the perspective of the avos, we can rise above the challenges and negativity that often surround us. We can take inspiration from Rabi Akiva, who, despite seeing the destruction of the Bais Hamikdosh, was able to smile because he understood that this was a step in the direction of the eventual redemption.

So too, in our personal lives, we face many challenges. Things don’t always go as planned. Relationships falter, children may struggle, jobs don’t materialize, and financial pressures mount. But Yosef’s message to his brothers (45:4-11) speaks to us in these moments. He told them not to despair over what they had done, selling him into slavery, because it was all part of Hashem’s plan. His suffering in Mitzrayim allowed him to prepare a refuge for them during the famine.

We should learn from Yosef’s example and let go of past grievances, understanding that everything that happens is part of a higher plan for the greater good. We should not become angry or upset when things don’t go our way. Instead, we must trust that Hashem has a purpose behind every challenge, leading us to eventual goodness for ourselves and our loved ones.

Despite all the suffering Yosef endured, his primary concern upon revealing himself to his brothers was their well-being. He cautioned them not to feel guilty for what they had done, as it had been part of Hashem’s plan. Yosef’s concern was not for himself, but for his father and his brothers.

A Jew’s primary concern should always be the welfare of his fellow Jew. We are all brothers, and our responsibility to one another is at the core of who we are as a people.

Our brethren in Israel are under attack and have been fighting wars for their survival for over a year. Young Jewish men are killed almost daily, and many more suffer life-altering injuries. The economy is not doing well, and people there are starving and lacking what we consider basics. We need to feel their pain and do what we can to help them.

The least we can do is daven for them, daven that peace be restored, and daven that they don’t have to get up in the middle of the night and run for safety to a shelter. We should daven that they can return to their homes, to their jobs, and to their schools. Daven that tourists can return and pump money into the economy and into the hands of poor families, yeshivos, and kollelim.

We need to view everyone there as our brothers and sisters, doing for them what we would do for a brother and sister, because that is what they are.

When we deal with fellow Yidden, we need to do so with kindness and grace, treating every person as a brother or sister, because they really are. This applies not only to matters involving basic manners, such as giving the right of way when we drive, but the way we talk to people and the way we write to them and about them. There is never any reason for nastiness, arrogance, or acting as if you are better, holier, or superior to the person you are addressing.

Parshas Vayigash was not given to us and transmitted through the generations to entertain us with the very moving story about a family that was torn apart, separated, divided, and then, through a confluence of random events, brought back together.

The story is often retold of the time the old Belzer Rebbe, Rav Aharon Rokeach, and the Gerrer Rebbe, the Bais Yisroel, met in Tel Aviv after being saved from the ashes of the Holocaust. They both lost most of their communities, followers, and families. Though they both had good reason to be broken, they were both determined to rebuild in the Holy Land what had been laid waste in the old country.

The urge was to speak of destruction and loss, but the Belzer Rebbe wouldn’t allow that to happen. He opened the conversation and asked the Gerrer Rebbe why, when Yosef and Binyomin finally met and the years of tragedy had separated the two children of Rochel, they cried upon each other’s shoulder. Binyomin cried over Mishkan Shiloh in Yosef’s portion, and Yosef cried over the Botei Mikdosh in the portion of Binyomin. Why did they not cry over the churban that would take place in their own portion of Eretz Yisroel?

He answered that we don’t cry over our own churban, over what we suffered. Nothing is served by mourning over what happened in our past. We pick ourselves up and begin working to put the pieces back together. But we do cry over what happened to other people. We mourn their losses and attempt to comfort them.

This is because we always seek to help our brothers. We do not mourn our own losses. We accept them as the will and act of Hashem. But when another person suffers and is in pain, we do what we can to assuage that pain.

Yosef and Binyomin were brothers. All Jews are brothers, and we should always do what we can to help one another. Sermonizing is not in place when someone is suffering. There is a time to castigate a brother, but it must be done with love and at the proper time, in the proper way. When the timing is right, we seek ways to grow and to build and plan for the future. But there is a time of eitzos – dispensing advice – and a time for dispensing help, and a brother knows when to do what.

Parshas Vayigash is meant to teach us deep lessons of bitachon, kibbud av, living in golus, geulah, unity, brotherly love, the need to care for each other, and the necessity to work as a community, each person thinking about the others and not only what is good for him. As individuals, we may have our strengths and resources, but together, we are far stronger. Acting as a community allows us to pool our collective talents, wisdom, and resources to overcome challenges that no single person could face alone. When we unite, we amplify our ability to help one another, whether it’s through emotional support, financial assistance, or shared knowledge.

When we act b’achdus, we accomplish far more, protecting what is dear to us and providing support and strength in ways that go beyond what we can achieve alone or when focused solely on ourselves. Caring about the greater good and each other is what makes us worthy heirs to the avos and shevotim. Recognizing that we are all connected as children of one father, and that the wellbeing of one affects the wellbeing of all, is a predicate for fostering good and ridding our community of evil, misguided individuals, and rectifying the problems that affect us. Whatever the problem is, people working and acting in unison is the solution.

May we merit to learn the lessons in this week’s parsha and conduct ourselves in ways that will help each other and hasten the coming of Moshiach speedily in our day.