Archives: 2018

There was a crisis in the camp of Israel. Korach, a wealthy and popular leader, was challenging Moses and Aaron. Why, argued Korach, should Aaron be the high priest? Is this a classic case of nepotism? Does he deserve the job, or is it because he is Moses's brother? The entire congregation is holy, says Korach, so we should share the wealth.

In order to put these sentiments to rest, God commands Moses to gather the wooden staffs of all of the princes of the tribes. Together with Aaron's staff, these will be placed in the Tabernacle overnight. In the morning, people will see whom God chooses to be His High Priest. When they come back the next morning, Aaron's staff has bloomed. More specifically, it has blossomed with a flower, then has sent forth a shoot, and finally has grown almonds. These three things are very significant.

The famous saying of Hillel goes, "If I am not for myself, who will be for me? And when I am for myself alone, what am I? And if not now, then when?" These three rhetorical questions are addressed, and may be inspired by, the staff of Aaron. Let me explain.

The flower that blossomed represents the unique gifts of each individual. This is the first part of Hillel's saying, "If I am not for myself, who will be for me?" We have a primary responsibility to develop our own talents and gifts. If we don't sharpen our own saw, it will never be sharpened.

The shoot that came out implies an outward focus. Indeed, one of the garments of the High Priest was called the "Tzitz," the same word used for shoot in this story. On this garment, which the priest wore on his forehead, was written in the Divine Name. It was intended for all to see and draw inspiration from. It exemplifies the required outward focus of the high priest. Thus, says Hillel, "And if I am for myself alone, what am I?"

The third element of the staff of Aaron was the blossoming of the almonds. Almonds are the quickest of the fruits. The Hebrew word for almond, "Shaked," is also used to mean alacrity and enthusiasm. It implies moving fast, with gusto. Hence, the third element in Hillel's saying matches is perfectly: "And if not now, then when?"

Thus, the ideal man and woman will nurture their gifts and talents, gain education and work to refine their character. This is all done with a goal of service to humanity, not selfish accomplishment. Finally, this person senses the urgency of the mission and does not delay even for a moment. The world needs you now, not when you think you're good and ready.

This got me to thinking, why do we need to be focused outward? If I said at a table and feed the person next to me, and they feed the person next to them, and so on, we will certainly all eat a meal. But why must it be done that way? Why can't we just feed ourselves and have the same result? In other words, why not take care of ourselves and make that our focus, so that nobody else needs to take care of us? We can even make allowance for the extreme circumstances when someone does need another to take care of them.

Another teaching of the sages of the Mishna evaluates the way people relate to wealth and property. "One who says ' What is yours is yours, and what his mind is mine,' is an average person. Some sages teach that this is the attribute of Sodom." That is quite an argument! We go from average to the extreme evil of Sodom! What does this mean?

I don't believe one need say there is an argument here. One sages simply stressing statistics, that most people take the approach of "what is mine is mine and what is yours is yours." The other sage counters that this is a very bad approach, it is the approach of Sodom. The focus on me, while in the short term it may not cause major problems, in the long term can devolve into fascism and unspeakable cruelty. The difference between the Hillel approach and the Sodom approach is the difference of connection versus division.

Modern Western countries are focused on the rights of their citizens. People speak up, demonstrate, become active politically and vote based on who is going to protect their rights better. I believe this is a very bad thing. President Kennedy decried this in his famous saying, "Ask not what your country can do for you, but what you can do for your country." Nowadays this has been flipped on its head.

Judaism is not a religion of rights, it is a system of responsibilities. It teaches us not that the poor have a right to bread, but rather that the rich have a responsibility to give bread to the poor. It is a subtle difference, but it is a world of difference.

The origin of societies was based upon what is called the "Social contract." The idea was that we band together for the common good, and to prevent any individuals from exploiting others. We agreed to behave nicely to others so that they do not kill us. There is no underlying concept of unity here, only a practical arrangement to prevent anarchy. The obvious flaw of the social contract is in the situation when one group becomes stronger than another, and no longer needs the social contract.

A poignant historical example of this is the Islamic treatment of treaties. Mohamed made a treaty for 10 years of peace with the tribe of Qureish in Mecca. As soon as he was strong enough, only two years into that treaty, he returned and massacred them all. So much for the lasting value of the social contract. This is exactly what we see happening in the Middle East today.

In America today, we are seeing worrying signs of societal disintegration. At the same time, there is a very troubling political hostility in the air. I believe this is a direct result of the emphasis of rights over responsibilities. That emphasis, although more refined, is still part of the social contract approach. Everybody is shouting "give me my right to do whatever the heck I want and the rest of you can do whatever the heck you want." The emphasis on me contains within it the seeds of division, and we see this happening before our very eyes.

God wants man to be focused outward. God wants man to understand that his purpose in life is to fulfill his responsibility towards humanity. God wants man to be dedicated to the fixing of the world. Certainly people deserve rights, but the way they must get those rights is through others fulfilling their responsibility to protect them. I am afraid that in the Western world, the nations have no goal other than to keep things quiet. There is no unifying vision that casts responsibility on every member of society. If there would be, things would be quite different.

I believe that the Western world needs to find a new mission, and that mission is an urgent one. It is to save the innocent victims of the barbarism rocking the Middle East. It is to teach the world the meaning of "love thy neighbor," and to pursue the happiness and prosperity of the "other."

This is the message of Aaron's staff. The essence of life is to use all of the wonderful gifts that God gave each of us to reach out and improve the world. The world needs constant improvement, and cannot wait. Someone who is truly dedicated to this task cannot sit idly by, even if they think they are not ready.

Indeed, Korach's unusual demise demands an explanation. In most instances, the Israelites who sinned were struck down in a plague. And even in this story, there is an alternative punishment used for other rebels. Moses tells all those who would presume to the priesthood to bring incense to the tabernacle. They do, and at the critical moment, they are consumed in fire. That, at least, is a punishment we have encountered elsewhere. Aaron's own sons, Nadav and Avihu, died in a Divine fire after having brought a sacrifice "that they were not commanded to bring."

Our sages in the Mishna tell us of 10 things that were created in the last hour before that first Sabbath in Genesis. One of them was the "mouth of the earth" which swallowed Korach and his fellow rebels. So we know it was unique, but why was it deserved? Let's take a closer look at his sin.

The rabbis trace the genesis of Korach's rebellion to his being passed over for the presidency of the tribe of Levi. Amram, the father of Moses and Aaron, was the oldest of the four sons of Kehat, one of the three main branches of the Levites. Korach was the son of Yizhar, the second oldest. He, therefore, felt he should have had the next position of authority, and be the Prince of the tribe of Levi. Instead, it went to a man named Elitzafan, who was the son of the youngest brother, Uziel.

In addition, Korach, as a Levi, had to shave off all of his bodily hair. When his wife saw him like that, she convinced him that Moses had made up this law in order to humiliate him. She fed his paranoia by reminding him of the slight of his non-choice as Prince of the Levites. In other words, he was fed a whole lot of jealousy which pushed him to rebellion.

Now, it's not politically wise to rebel on the basis of one's own personal ambitions. One needs a higher cause, and so Korach created a populist movement. "The entire congregation is holy! God is in their midst! Why should you (Moses and Aaron) raise yourselves above the congregation of God?"

In order to amplify his populist complaints, he created a visual stunt. He had 250 people dress up in garments that were entirely made of sky blue coloring. He marched them over to Moses, and asked Moses a question: "do these garments require fringes?" There is a commandment to put fringes on the corners of a four-cornered garment. One of those strings must be of the sky blue coloring. Moses responded that yes, indeed, even if the entire garment is made of sky-blue, it requires the fringes.

Korach mocked this response. "This is illogical," he said, "because if one thread of sky-blue is sufficient to render a garment permissible, then if the garment is entirely made of sky-blue it should certainly be permissible on its own, without additional fringes." In other words, if the people are all holy, there is no need for spiritual leadership. We are all sky-blue, we need no fringes.

All of that being said, I still don't see why a special death needed to be created for Korach and his people. Yes, he was jealous. Yes, he was rebelling. So were the spies, so were those who worshipped the Golden calf. They weren't swallowed up by the ground. Korach and his people were. Why?

There was one other instance when death by burial in the earth was presented. It is not written in the Torah. This story is found in rabbinical commentaries. Who was threatened by this death? The entire Jewish people. At what time? As they were about to receive the Torah at Mount Sinai. The rabbis tell us that God held the mountain above their heads and said, "if you accept the Torah, all will be well. If not, there shall be your graves."

My teacher, Rabbi Aaron Soloveichik, questions the need for such a threat. Didn't the Israelites famously respond to God's offer of the Torah with, "We shall do and we shall learn?" They were eager to receive the Torah! Why threaten them with burial?

Rabbi Soloveitchik suggests a powerful resolution to this question. He explains how the people were glad to receive the Torah… for themselves. They, after all, had witnessed the miracles of the Exodus. For them, faith was easy, and so accepting the Torah was a natural response.

But that generation was reluctant to accept the Torah on behalf of its descendants. They feared that their great-grandchildren, not having seen God's power, might not be willing to observe the Torah properly. Thus, they would be liable to punishment. To protect them, by not obligating them in the first place, the people were not ready to accept the Torah on their behalf. Just for themselves, not for their children.

To this, God says that by not accepting the Torah for their descendants, they are giving away immortality. Their generation will be the only one to keep the Torah, and when they are gone, so shall the Torah in this world be gone. They will figuratively be buried under the Mount Sinai that could've been the beginning of an unbroken chain.

Perhaps this is the danger in Korach's rebellion. By seeking to undermine the authority of Moses and Aaron, by seeking to deny the importance of spiritual leadership, Korach endangers the future of the Jewish people. The Judaism of Korach might last a generation, but no further. Why? Because Torah leadership requires the people to be in a process of constant growth. Leaders are the teachers, and learning is the key to Jewish survival. Education is central to our religion. Our most central prayer is the Shema, which enjoins us to "make (the words of Torah) them sharp in the mouths of your children and children's children."

Korach claimed that a person can achieve sufficient Jewish knowledge and spirituality. Once he reaches that level, further growth, and hence, leadership, become unnecessary. The symbolism of the garment made of sky-blue is a perfect metaphor. Moses's replies to Korach that there is no such thing as a garment that does not require the fringes, the strings that go out of the corners. Those strings symbolize the need for constant growth, for constant perfection. They teach us that a garment, no matter how beautiful, is not complete without something coming out of it.

Interestingly, the sequel to the story of Korach is the story of how the princes of the tribes were instructed to bring their staffs to the tabernacle. They would leave them there overnight, and the staff that would blossom and bloom would be that of God's chosen high priest. Sure enough, it was Aaron's staff that grew almonds and flowers. The Hebrew phrase for this is "Vayatzetz tzitz." The Hebrew word for fringes is "Tzitzit." In other words, Aaron's job is to be the fringes, the leader who helps the people to constantly grow. The commandment of Tzitzit, fringes, is given "to all their (Israel's) generations." In other words, there is something about this mitzvah that relates to the future of the Jewish people through their children.

And, interestingly, the rabbis have a sequel to this entire story about what happened underground. The sons of Korach, who were also swallowed up, did not die. They remained on a ledge beneath the Earth's surface, where, according to Talmudic legend, they can still be heard saying, "Moses is true, his Torah is true, and we are the falsifiers."

Korach's sin was to undermine our spiritual leaders, and remove the need for spiritual growth. Such a Judaism could never last, and thus his punishment of burial was a fulfillment of what God had threatened at Mount Sinai. He refused to accept the Torah for his future generations, and thus he was indeed buried. Our emphasis must always be on education, on transmitting the traditions to the next generation. We are part of the chain, and our Torah leaders are the ones who bring that tradition to us from our ancestors. Without them, if Korach had succeeded, we would've had no one to give us those traditions.

When God saw the people cry at the report of the spies, he decreed that the entire generation would perish in the wilderness over the next 40 years. In reaction, the people came to Moses contritely, admitted that they had sinned, and declared that they were ready to go up to the land of Israel right away. Moses refused them permission, saying that God would not be with them and they would be destroyed.

That is what happened. They attempted to go up to the land the next day, and were chased back by the Canaanites and Amalekites to a place, or situation, called "Destruction." Why was there repentance not accepted? After all, they didn't wait! They immediately wanted to correct the sin and go into The Land. What did they do wrong?

The Seforno puts it in stark terms. Initially, the people have refused to go to the land from fear. They failed to obey God and Moses, and cried in their tents that night. Now, they again refuse to obey God and Moses by insisting on going up. This time, however, their disobedience is not because of fear, but because of rebelliousness. They are rejecting God's decision and Moses's instruction. They are repeating the sin of the spies, although this time as an open rebellion.

But I think there is something more involved. Caleb, alone among the spies, chose to stand with Joshua and Moses. He gave the other spies the impression he was in with them, but at the fateful moment, stood up and told the people "let us go up to the land, for we certainly can conquer it." Where did he get the courage and determination to do so?

A fascinating and novel understanding of this entire story is waiting to be discovered. And that is, that the sin of the spies is a repeat of the sale of Joseph. At the end of the previous Torah reading, we read about two men, Eldad and Medad, who were reciting prophecies in the midst of the camp. What were they saying? "Moses is going to die, and Joshua will need the people into the land of Israel."

Now, the spies that Moses sent were all princes of their tribes. Each of them was a potential successor to Moses. Moses knew this, and feared for the welfare of his disciple, Joshua. Just as the brothers had attempted to remove Joseph as a potential leader, Moses fear the spies would do the same to Joshua. Therefore, he prayed for him, "May God protect you from the plotting of the spies."

What Moses had not imagined was that the spies would be willing to sacrifice the land of Israel in order to prevent that prophecy from coming true! He did not expect an answer in the spirit of the mother who, when King Solomon said to cut the child in half in order to be fair to the two claimants, said, "I will not have him, and you will not have him."

But that is what happened. The sin of the spies was not simply fear of entering the land of Israel. It was using the land of Israel as a bludgeon against a fellow Jew. It was the extreme of selfishness, and it was the same sin that caused the destruction of the Holy Temple on that same calendar date.

The hero of the story of Joseph was Judah. He stood before Jacob and proclaimed, about Benjamin, "I am his guarantor. Demand his safety from my hand. If I do not bring him back to my father, I will be sinning to my father all of my days." Judah taught us the principle of mutual responsibility. We are inextricably interwoven with each other and must be together as a people. The definition of togetherness is not necessarily agreeing or thinking the same, but rather it is standing together as one people at all times. The four species we shake on Sukkot represent the spectrum of Jews, from the most observant and knowledgeable to the least so. Nonetheless, we are moved, we are shaken, but we remain bound together. The people of Israel, the Land of Israel, the God of Israel, all together.

My teacher, Rabbi Aaron Soloveichik, of blessed memory, explained that this is the origin of our national name, the Jews. Jew comes from Judah, and expresses this idea of mutual responsibility and destiny. Yes, it is also because we are descended, for the most part, from the tribe of Judah. But that, also, it is because of this attribute. The 10 lost Tribes disappeared because they refused to stand together with the rest of the people. They rebelled, they seceded. They disappeared. The tribes of Judah and Benjamin remained loyal to the King, and to the Temple in Jerusalem.

If the spies were all rivals to Joshua for the leadership of the people, there was no stronger rival than Caleb. From the tribe of Judah, the mantle of leadership could authentically be given to him. And, yet, he alone refused to be part of that game. This was because he understood that what was at play was not who was more eligible to be the leader. The question was, do we stand together or not? His deep sense of areivut, of mutual responsibility, required him to stand with Joshua and Moses, and with God.

Now we can understand why, on that very next day, the people's attempt to go to Israel was an additional sin, rather than repentance. When Moses told them that God would not go with them, they needed to choose togetherness. They needed to say, "if the whole nation comes, we will come. If not, we will stand with the people, wherever they are."

And an additional point. The spies were right, Canaanites and Amalekites were stronger than the Israelites. But they were not stronger than the Israelites plus God! The spies had used the word "Efes, or nothing." If we go forth with nothing, they will clobber us. We go forth with One, the one God, in Unity and oneness, we are invincible. The Israelites who attempted to go into Israel the day after, went forth with efes-nothing, and not with One.

So, how can we cancel the fast of Tisha b'Av? By understanding the true dynamics of the sin of the spies. We need to choose to love The Land of Israel, so much so that no politics or arguments can get in the way of that love. We need to choose to love our fellow people of Israel, so much so that no disagreements can cause us to stand apart. And, finally, we need to choose to love God, so much so that if God does not wish us to leave the camp, we stay with God.

There are two types of seniors mentioned in the verse: the white-haired and the old one. Likewise, there are two actions mentioned in the verse: to rise up, and to honor or glorify. Rising, or standing up, is mandated for the white-haired, and glorifying is mandated for the old one. Who are we talking about, and what are these behaviors teaching us?

The commentaries explain that the white-haired one is simply an aged person, regardless of their knowledge or character. If they have reached old age, we are to rise up before them. The old one, in Hebrew "zaken," refers to one who has "acquired wisdom." Because they are not just elderly, but also wise and righteous, a higher level of honor must be accorded, we must "glorify the countenance of the old one."

The sages read the verse in a way that implies that both the white-haired and the sage deserve both forms of respect, rising up and being glorified. If so, we need to understand why the elderly one, who is not a scholar or an exceptionally righteous one, receives the same treatment as the older sage. And more, the verse could've been rewritten simply, as follows: "You shall rise up and glorify the white-haired one and the elderly sage."

A possible reason they are both worthy of standing and glorifying is that they both teach us important life lessons. The Torah never tells us to bow to them, because that action is exclusively for the benefit of these elderly people. The Torah wants us to honor them not just for them, but for ourselves as well. It is obvious what we can learn from the elderly sage, as they have much wisdom to impart. But what about the white-haired non-sage?

First of all, any human being who reaches an elderly age, has amassed a wealth of life experience. For sure, elderly people can hold wrong opinions, and can even be of evil character. But generally, their life wisdom is something that younger people need to access.

Some commentaries bring a negative reason to honor them, in that we learn from imperfect older people in an inverse way. We learn from them how not to be. Hugh Hefner, as an extreme example, is a tragic elderly figure. His entire life was given over to lust. Well into his 80s, he felt forced to keep up that illusion, hosting parties at his mansion as if he were 30 years old, although now he was fueled by Viagra. How tragic! Do we really need to honor him?

Certainly not, but we do need to learn from him. We need to learn the lesson that a life wasted on lust and passion brings no fulfillment. When the contrast his example with that of an elderly Torah scholar, our own correct path in life becomes clearer. We have a choice to make.

I believe that is the deep meaning of this verse, and why it was written in two parts. If we rise up for the imperfect elderly one, and learn from their example even in a negative way, we will come to glorify the countenance of the elderly sage. That negative learning may be the most valuable lesson of life! Our sages teach us in the Mishna, "whoever learns even one thing from his friend must show him respect." Learning by seeing the negative consequences of poor life choices is learning, and even though the subject is not an exceptionally worthy one, they have done us a great service. We honor them because of the lesson they are teaching us, even if it is not intentional.

But in most cases, they can teach us an intentional lesson. In most cases, a simple elderly person may have a powerful spiritual message to impart. I recall reading of a pastor who had been kidnapped and nearly killed as a child by a sexual predator. Years later, after he grew up, he became aware that this criminal, who had never been convicted, was living in an old age home. He mustered his strength, and went to meet the man who had left him for dead when he was just a young boy.

At first, the man denied that he had anything to do with the event, and claimed not to know who this pastor was. The pastor, who had every moment of that encounter of his youth engraved in his memory, told him the story step by step. Finally, the old man broke down in tears, and began begging for forgiveness. And that is the most powerful lesson of old age, the lesson of repentance.

For this, we have our patriarch Abraham to thank. According to the sages, Abraham was the first human being to grow old. The reason given was that until he introduced old age, people couldn't tell the fathers from the sons apart. An explanation that I heard relates directly to the issue of repentance. Why do old people repent, and gained such wisdom? Because of two things: 1. They become more aware of their legacy, and 2. Their passions and drives become weaker, allowing their spirituality to become strong.

Aging is the gift of Abraham. And, so, many rabbis interpret this verse to refer to Abraham himself. They focus on the phrase "to rise up," and interpreted to mean "repent." Thus, the verse becomes a blueprint for life: Repent before you become white-haired, and as a result you will have a glorified old age.

I wish to add that "rising up" is an important instruction to us. When a person is sitting, they are not accomplishing or changing. When they stand up, they are now ready to move, change things in the world and accomplish. Rise up before it's too late, and learn from the example of the glorious old one, Abraham. Abraham never tired of spreading God's name in the world. When he was in pain after his circumcision, he forced himself to run out to the road to welcome in guests. When guests came to Abraham's tent, he taught them to give thanks to God for the food they eat and the blessings they have. Abraham traveled the land in every direction, calling out in the name of the Lord.

If was this Abraham who consciously chose to age, so that his lessons would continue to posterity. They must inspire us to rise up, throw off the laziness that paralyzes us, and begin following his example of spreading God's name and filling the world with loving kindness.

There is a saying by the sages that goes as follows: "God forges the good thought into a good deed. He does not forge a bad thought into a deed." In other words, if a person thinks of doing a good deed, God gives them credit as if they had done it. A thought of sin, however, does not accrue to the thinker's detriment.

An example, Reuven gets credit for having saved Joseph's life by suggesting that the brothers throw him in a pit rather than kill him. The sages, however, claim that the pit had snakes and scorpions in it! That's not a recommended way to save someone's life! But Reuven didn't see those lethal creatures because the pit was too deep. He thought he was saving Joseph's life, and the Bible gives him credit for having done so.

Why is this the case? How does this process of transforming a good thought into a deed actually work?

The Bible calls for animal sacrifices. In modern times, animal sacrifices sounds a bit primitive. There is a big dispute among the sages regarding the reason for animal sacrifices. According to Maimonidies, the great medieval scholar, sacrifices are a response to what was happening in the pagan world. The pagans practiced all kinds of sacrifice, and so God gave the Jewish people their own version of it.

Implied in this answer is the understanding that when idolatry ceases to be a factor in the world, the need for animal sacrifices disappears. Nonetheless, biblical and rabbinical sources imply that the sacrificial order will be reinstated at the time of the third Temple's construction. This is a question raised against Maimonidies' opinion.

Another medieval scholar, Rabbi Moses Nachmanidies, gives another reason. When a person brings a sacrifice, they see the animal slaughtered and burned on the altar. They think of how their sins really made them worthy of that punishment, but God had mercy on them. The animal sacrifice becomes a catalyst for repentance.

Even though they disagree, I believe there is a common thread in both of their answers. They both imply that the sacrifices are a response to a situation, either in the religious world, or in the heart of the one bringing the sacrifice. Maimonidies is looking at the psychology of the Jewish people, and he is saying that it is unhealthy for the Jews to feel that the pagans are more "religious" than them. If the Jews felt that the pagans are bringing sacrifices and the Jews themselves are not, a certain sense of religious inferiority might be felt. Once that practice became established, however, it remains for all generations. The same reason applies, so the future generations shouldn't feel that they aren't as religious as their predecessors.

I would like to delve deeper in this discussion, because there is gold to be found in it. The first sacrifice brought was by Cain and his brother Abel. There was no idolatry at that time either, yet they brought sacrifices. Each one had his personal reason for doing so. Cain was seeking to appease God, who was angry about the sin of Adam and Eve. His motivation was guilt. Guilt is a weaker motivation, and Cain sought to bring the "cheapest" sacrifice he could. He brought some of his fruits, not the best, not the worst, just average. God did not accept it.

Abel had a different motivation: love of God. He was inspired by God's creation, grateful for his own humanity, and sought to express that through a gift, a sacrifice. The lover always seeks to bring the best, and Abel brought the firstborn of his flocks. This was accepted.

Thus, there are two motivations for bringing sacrifices, or doing any good deed. The best is when it comes from the heart, and the love in the heart must overflow into those good deeds. The second-best is when it comes from the mind, even though the heart may not feel as strong a motivation. It is still better to do a good deed for neutral reasons, and I stress neutral, rather than to not do it at all. As Judaism teaches, "It is better to perform the commandments not for their own sake, because by doing so, they will come to be performed for their own sake." In other words, doing good deeds transforms the heart.

I believe that both Maimonidies and Nachmanidies are referring to the latter motivation. They are talking about people who may not feel tremendous religious motivation, but know that they should be doing good deeds. An external cause for bringing a sacrifice, whether it be societal pressure or a sense of guilt. In an ideal world, however, sacrifices are brought out of love of God. That applies in a time when there is no idolatry, and when people are not as sinful as before. These scholars are talking about the majority of the history of the world, when the heart may not be as pure and when external motivations become necessary.

There are verses in the prophets, however, that seem to contradict this idea of doing the good deed, bringing the sacrifice, even if not motivated by love. "Why do I need all of your sacrifices when your hearts are far from Me?" Why? We just gave a reason! Because doing the good deed changes the heart!

It is because people can also do good deeds for bad reasons. Up until now, we have been talking about neutral reasons. The person goes to synagogue because it is the thing to do, not because they love the synagogue. But when a person gives charity from stolen money, that charity has no value. The charity becomes part of the sin, because the person seeks to justify his evil deed by giving charity. This is called whitewashing. Someone who wants to bribe God with a sacrifice so He will look the other way when they cheat and steel, will get no credit for that sacrifice.

Thus, the meaning of the statement we quoted above, "God forges the good thought into a good deed. He does not forge a bad thought into a deed," takes on a new meaning. This saying can be understood as giving us a process. It can mean that a good thought leads to a valid deed, and combines with it to strengthen the good heart. A bad thought, however, does not lead to a valid deed, since even the deed is a sin.

So we see that there is value in doing good deeds for external reasons, as long as those reasons are positive and good. We don't need perfection, we don't need complete purity, in order to gain credit for good deeds. Which brings us to Purim.

Purim, at its essence, is compromised happiness at best. Remember, the same king Ahashverosh that had acquiesced in Haman's plan to annihilate the Jewish people was still on the throne the day after the Jews were saved. He could easily revive the decree at any time. So how can we be happy? Our hearts don't really feel it!

Therefore, comes the same solution as with the sacrifices. Perform actions of happiness with good intentions, and your heart will follow. Dress up in costumes, make merry, have a Lechaim! Do things to demonstrate happiness and gratitude to God, and even though the future is uncertain, you will feel that happiness growing inside your heart.

Rabbi Akiva was once asked to explain the entire Torah to someone as they stood on one foot. Rabbi Akiva immediately replied, "Thou shalt love thy neighbor as thyself. The rest is all commentary. Now go and study it."

Now certainly loving one's neighbor is important and beautiful, but is it really enough? Why did he not teach him the 10 commandments? I can stand on one foot for the two minutes it takes to recite them. And in the Ten Commandments, you also have faith in God. In fact, it's the first of them! Where is faith in God mentioned in the verse in Leviticus that Rabbi Akiva chooses to represent the whole Torah?

A different question may shed some light. The third of the commandments receives special mention in rabbinic literature, for they claim that when this commandment was given, the whole world trembled. "Thou shalt not take the Name of The Lord in vain." Why did this commandment, out of all of them, cause the whole world to tremble?

The Kli Yakar commentary compares this third commandment to lifting up a tree by the trunk. All of the branches will shake. God's Name is like the trunk of the tree. It is the interface between the Divine and the Earthly. When one utters it, one rises to connect to Hashem. When one utters it in order NOT to connect to Hashem, it is unsupported, unbalanced, disconnected. Everything shakes and becomes unstable. A world without God's connection to it is deeply unstable. And, by converse, if you see a society that is unstable, know that God's presence there is weak. The tree is shaking, the branches trembling.

An oh-so-true commentary I saw put things in very stark terms. Yes, the commandments forbidding killing, stealing, and so forth SHOULD be crystal clear, but are not. Why? Because of man's incredible ability to rationalize. He can find justification from WITHIN faith to kill, steal, rape, pillage and do whatever comes to his basest nature. He can use God's Name as his cover. We are killing the kuffar, the infidel, he will say.

To this, God says in the third commandment, "Thou shalt NOT take the Name of the Lord in vain!" You may not use Me as a justification for your evil actions. Thus, says this commentary, the whole world trembled, because now they know they would be culpable for all the murder and pillaging, rape and theft.

All of these things come from a disconnect with God, leading to a lethal disconnect from their fellow man. Ultimately, they disconnect from their own humanity and become the monsters we have seen on the news. It is clear and obvious and real.

Rabbi Akiva was interested in something else when he gave his answer of loving one's neighbor. He wanted to get people on the path to CONNECTION, to One-ness, to God. God is One, He desires all humanity to be as one. When Israel arrived at Sinai to receive the Torah, they arrived "as one man with one heart."

Character is the most determining factor in one's righteousness or lack thereof. Evil character, a hateful nature, gives one the impetus to disconnect from one's fellow, from one's self, from one's humanity. Good character, on the other hand, a loving nature, leads one to connect to one's fellow, to nature, to humanity, and, yes, to God. Be connected, says Rabbi Akiva, be a lover. Open your arms and your heart to others. When you do that, you will come to love yourself, and you will come to love God.

So Rabbi Akiva did not expressly mention faith, but he showed us the express path to it. The whole world shook when it heard about keeping God's Name connected. Imagine how wonderful the world WILL BE when we take God's Name, lift it up and connect it to all creation!

The Torah reading that contains the 10 Commandments is called Jethro. It commences with the state visit of Moses's father-in-law, Jethro. Some rabbis feel that this entire story of Jethro and his visit, which we shall describe shortly, took place after the 10 Commandments were given. Why, then, is it written beforehand?

Some claim that it is because of a common theme connecting Jethro and the revelation at Mount Sinai: Conversion. Jethro became convinced of the Jewish faith and converted. The entire Jewish people, upon receiving the 10 commandments, could be considered as converts as well. This is a perfectly acceptable explanation. I'd like to suggest another as well.

Both the Jethro story and the Sinaitic Revelation story contains three parts. Jethro comes to visit the Israelites and is welcomed in a grand ceremony. He then blesses God for having brought the children of Israel out of Egyptian bondage. Finally, he observes Moses attempting to judge every single bit of litigation that the people have all by himself. He counsels Moses to appoint judges of "thousands and hundreds and tens," to help bear the burden. Moses follows Jethro's instruction.

The Revelation starts with the dramatic and festive preparations for the event. The mountain is cordoned off, the people are to prepare themselves and purify themselves. Next, the first five of the 10 Commandments are given. Finally, the last five of the 10 Commandments are given. There is a reason why I divided the 10 Commandments into two parts, which is one of the reasons why they were given on two tablets. Allow me to explain my theory.

I believe that the 10 Commandments are more than simply 10 special mitzvot. These Commandments were singled out because they give Israel its identity. We are taught who is our God, and who are we to be. The first commandment is "I am the Lord thy God who brought you out of Egypt." Some ask why God did not identify Himself as the Lord who created the heavens and the earth? The answer is that these Commandments are to give Israel their identity. The fact that God created the heaven and the earth does not impact our identity. The fact that God brought us out of Egypt does.

In fact, way back at the burning bush, Moses was puzzled by the question of what merit the Israelites had? Why did they deserve to be redeemed? God responded, "When you bring them forth from Egypt, they will serve Me on this mountain." In other words, the Exodus and the Revelation must go together. Why?

Israel is a nation with a purpose in the world. We were afflicted with Egyptian slavery and oppression. We experienced firsthand man's inhumanity to man. A theme in the stories of the book of Genesis is fraternal tension and violence. It starts almost at the beginning, with Cain and Abel. God wants the world to be fixed, and that is the problem that needs fixing. When you read the newspapers today, you realize that almost all human suffering is the result of other humans. Would that we could wave a magic wand and make that disappear!

That is our main purpose. God, therefore, tells us that He is the One who brought us out of Egypt, so that we must appreciate the need to eliminate what we suffered in Egypt from the face of the earth. The other four of the first set of the commandments serve to further define that goal.

We are told not to have any other gods, meaning, not to espouse any other ideology or national goal.

We are told not to take the Lord's Name in vain. In other words, do not distort God's goal for the world by using His Name to justify any other ideology.

We are told to observe the Sabbath day, in order to make this mission a part of our conscious existence. We need to take time to reflect on it, meditate upon it, and recommit to it.

We are told to honor our parents, those who teach us the traditions and transmit this crucial mission to us. Our parents, our rabbis, our sages, are the way that we connect to God's teachings and our national goals.

The third section, the latter five commandments, are teaching us the potential obstacles to fulfilling these Divine goals. Any of the five character traits that lead to these sins will push the individual off of the track. Do not be consumed by hatred – thou shalt not kill. Do not live a life of lust – thou shalt not commit adultery. Do not be consumed by greed – thou shalt not steal. Do not live for jealousy – thou shalt not bear false witness against your compatriot. Finally, do not live in the pursuit of honor and the throes of jealousy – thou shalt not covet what is thy neighbor's.

I see a parallel to all of this in the introductory story of Jethro. Very often, we are incapable of seeing ourselves as we really are. When Jethro comes, he bears witness to the national character and potential of the children of Israel. His arrival is festive, just as the preparations for the Revelation were festive and dramatic. In both cases, we are about to get information about the most important question: Who are we and what are we supposed to do?

The answer to that is the first five of the commandments. And, in Jethro's case, he blesses God who "saved you from Pharaoh and Egypt. I now know that God is the greatest of all of the gods, because of that which they attempted to do to you." In other words, man's inhumanity to man, Egypt's attempts to harm and destroy Israel, were the very reason for God's redeeming them. Thus, this is a nation that must dedicate itself to eradicating that form of hatred from the face of the earth.

Thirdly, the second part of the 10 Commandments deals with the potential obstacles. Jethro sees a potential obstacle to the entire national project in Moses's insistence on being the sole judge. If he continues this way, Jethro implies, the people will never reach the promised land. Judaism can only survive when the Torah is accessible to everyone, in every generation. Moses's job is twofold: to receive and teach the people Torah, and to ensure that there will be future teachers of Torah to keep the tradition alive.

Thus will we achieve our national mission, and thus will any individual achieve any important project in their life. The first step is to recognize that importance, as symbolized by the festivities at the start of both stories. The second step is to define what that mission is, as symbolized by the first five commandments and Jethro's blessing of God. The third step is to be aware of, and prepare for, the obstacles that can prevent the mission from being accomplished. That is symbolized by the final five commandments, and by Jethro's correcting Moses's system for transmitting the message and the mission.

"The Lord did not guide them through the land of the Philistines, lest they see war and return to Egypt," we are told in the book of Exodus. This is strange, considering the fact that they will see war sooner rather than later in any event. In fact, shortly after they finished crossing the Red Sea, they are forced to do battle with Amalek!

But, before that, there is a much more fundamental question. After all, had the Israelites gone via the Philistine territories, they would have witnessed the splitting of the Red Sea. That miracle, considered by the Hagadah of Passover to be five times more significant than the 10 plagues, would never have happened! Why, then, does God need to explain His reason for avoiding the land of the Philistines as relating to war? They needed to go to the Red Sea in order to witness that earthshaking miracle!

The Katav Sofer offers a powerful explanation. Earlier in Exodus, the people do not believe Moses's news about the upcoming redemption "from shortness of breath and hard labor." The Rabbi explains the psychology. If you tell someone who is suffering that their situation will improve slightly, they will believe you and welcome the news. If you tell them that they will have a complete recovery within 24 hours, they will most probably reject what you say as false comfort.

The Israelites were suffering so tremendously that the only news they could handle would be of some improvement in their situation. It's enough to tell them that they will be eventually leaving Egypt. That, they might believe. But to tell them that there would be tremendous miracles and wonders, 10 plagues and the splitting of the sea, would be too much for them to accept. And so it was. Someone who is in such a low situation is incapable of believing in anything more than a moderate improvement in their situation.

Thus, says the Rabbi, the newly freed slaves will still be unable to trust in their own future. They will not have faith in the face of something terrible that they have never seen before: war. They will immediately run to that which is familiar, to Egypt. It's not that they are bad people, it's that nothing in their experience has prepared them for the possibility that they could actually fight and win a war! It is simply too much to ask for them to accept.

All of that changed at the Red Sea. When Israel witnessed God split the sea, and drown the Egyptians in it, their view of what is possible changed completely. "The maidservant at the sea saw more than the prophet Ezekiel in his prophecies," say our sages. They now know that God is capable of anything in this world, and that they are on His team.

When the Jewish people arrive at Mount Sinai, God tells Moses that they shall be "a kingdom of priests." In other words, every Israelite will be both a king and a priest. What does this mean? Why this strange combination? Let's look at a king first. This is practical, for we all have the potential to become kings.

What defines a king? Simply, the ability to rule a people and get things done. The king gives an order, it must be carried out. It is potential and power. The Israelites became like kings at the splitting of the sea because they now believed in the power of God, and themselves as God's people, to create tremendous change in the world. And, indeed, Jews have been changing the world from then on. But, if the king rules his people, who rules the king? Who, or what, tells him what to do?

Kings are certainly guided by policy, tradition, advisers and so forth. But the main thing that guides the king is his goal and purpose as being king. A king dedicated to his own glory and wealth, as history has known so many times, will be a tyrant and an oppressor. A king guided by the desire to protect and advance his people will be a benevolent king.

This is where the concept of "priest" comes into play. A priest is dedicated to the service of God. He is a servant. Thus, a king who regards himself as a servant of his people and his God will fulfill his role magnificently. This is the task of the Jewish people. We must be kings, aware of our potential to change the entire world. At the same time, we must regard ourselves as priests, as servants of God. We must let Him define our goals, the goals that guide us in our "kingdoms." God wishes to protect and advance humanity, to improve it and bring it to a state of peace and goodness.

Thus, the detour to the Red Sea prepared the Israelites for the wars that would start in just a few days and weeks. The difference was, now that they saw God's potential and power, they were capable of believing in their eventual ability to prevail. They became kings, and next turn their steps towards Mount Sinai, where they will become priests as well. This is the Jewish mission in every generation: to believe in God and achieve the impossible.

It appears that Joseph reconciles with the brothers after he reveals his identity to them. He calms them down and says, "while you may have thought [selling me as a slave] was a bad thing, God considered it a good thing. It enabled the saving of an entire people [from starvation]." They then proceed to live their lives apparently at peace. But all is not well.

After their patriarch, Jacob, dies, the brothers are seized by the fear that Joseph will now take revenge upon them. They invent a message from their father: "Please forgive the sins of your brothers, for they have done evil to you." When Joseph hears this, he cries. Why, now, years after they supposedly reconciled, are the brothers in a panic that Joseph will pay them back? What was left undone?

There is an amazing story told about the great Rabbi Moshe Feinstein. After a dispute between two people was adjudicated by him, Rabbi Moshe instructed the parties to forgive each other. One did so easily. The other hesitated. Rabbi Moshe pressed him. The fellow said, "Not to worry, everything is okay." This was not good enough for Rabbi Feinstein. "You must say explicitly that you forgive him," insisted the Rabbi. The man gave in.

After the litigants left, a student asked Rabbi Moshe why he was so insistent. The Rabbi answered, "On Yom Kippur, we read the prayer about the 10 martyrs, the 10 rabbis killed by Rome. The prayer says they were killed as a punishment for the sin of the brothers when they sold Joseph. Wasn't that resolved at the time? The answer is, Joseph never said to the brothers that he forgives them. He said that it was for the best, that God had a plan, but he never said, 'I forgive you.'"

In other words, there was no complete reconciliation. The brothers felt this, and years later they still had a sense of guilt and fear regarding Joseph. How did this happen? Wasn't Joseph extremely magnanimous with them? He seemed to imply that they shouldn't feel any guilt whatsoever! "God considered a good thing," Joseph reassured them.

That is exactly where Joseph erred. His mistake was in absolving them from sin. If he absolves them from sin, then they didn't do anything wrong. How can they ever apologize? The brothers never do apologize. Joseph had prevented it. The closest they get is the invented message, put in the mouth of their deceased father, begging Joseph to forgive them. When they deliver this message to Joseph, they fall on their faces and proclaim, "We will be your slaves." But they, themselves, never say they are sorry. And Joseph never demanded of them. And so, they swept it under the rug where it continued to fester throughout their lives, and throughout Jewish history at different times.

Why did Joseph and the brothers fail to deal with the elephant in the room? Why did Joseph short-circuit his brothers' need to apologize? While that's a question for psychologists, I will hazard a suggestion. Sometimes people are uncomfortable being human. Being human means that you have feelings and that you are fallible. Very often, the people who appear toughest are the most sensitive. That toughness is an overcompensation for vulnerability. Joseph cries a lot in this whole episode, and those tears are his humanity seeking to express itself. Each time he suppresses it and acts as if he is above all this, his vulnerability chokes him up.

There is an additional aspect. There is no conflict between individuals that is not two-sided. Joseph also needed to apologize for the way he treated the brothers in his youth. His dreams, his privileged status, and his being a tattletale to his father contributed to the brothers' hatred. True, what they did to him was far worse, but he had what to say "sorry" for as well.

But if he absolves them from any guilt, he also absolves himself. Thus, Joseph's approach of, "Let's leave the past alone and just get on with our lives," is extremely unhealthy. We must own and embrace our own humanity. I once asked my teacher, Rabbi Aaron Soloveichik, if one is allowed to tell one's spouse how another person has hurt them. Would that be considered "Lashon Hara," or, evil speech? Rabbi Soloveitchik answered, "of course he can tell. If he can't tell his wife, it will eat him up from inside. Who else can he tell?"

The blockage to reconciliation is when we try to be above ourselves, negating our own humanity and feelings. We need to be truthful about what is in our hearts. We need to think about those with whom we have uncomfortable feelings, and we need to embrace them, too. That means being honest, sharing our feelings, and deciding together if we really want to have a future relationship. I can promise that reconciling like this is far sweeter than any revenge could ever be.

As you would imagine, quite the opposite. The Jewish New Year opens the season known as the "Days of Awe". This is a time of judgment and introspection, of repentance from sin. That's hardly a goal to be accomplished through all night partying. Judaism is a religion of life in the here and now, with the goal of the future. It never preaches escapism, with the sole exception being Purim, a subject for another post later in the year.

In fact, religious Jews consume more alcohol than the average citizen, yet have the lowest incidence of alcoholism. This is because of the circumstances of that drinking. It is almost entirely ritual based, from the Friday night kiddush, to the Saturday morning Kiddush, to the Havdala on Saturday night, to the various occasions of life that call for a "lechaim". In other words, almost all of the drinking is a celebration of life and faith, rather than an escape from it.

And so it is that we enter the month of preparation for Rosh Hashana with the words of love from King Solomon. Solomon, as we know, was the author of Ecclesiastes, a book probing the meaning of life. In it, he tells how he "tried everything out" to see where true human happiness and fulfillment lie. He tried partying, laughter therapy, materialism, you name it. His conclusion? All these are escapism, and while they may make for a pleasant diversion, they fail the ultimate test of true happiness.

That, says King Solomon, lies in "fear (of) the Lord and fulfill(ment of) His commandments". Beats partying by a country mile. That is the spirit we must cultivate as we enter this most potential-filled time of the year. It is a time of love from God to man and man to God.

What's love got to do (got to do) with it?

Easy. Love is identity. Live requires two beings to exist and know who they are. A love relationship requires an "I" and a "Thou". A conflicted person is limited in their ability to love. Repentance and re-dedication to our spiritual identity make love possible and strengthen it. Thus, love of God, repentance and introspection all grow together in this month of "I am for my beloved, and my beloved is for me."

May we all be blessed with a month of love leading to a year of life, peace and fulfillment.