Parshas Emor

Compassion in the Heart of Evil

“But an ox or sheep or goat, you may not slaughter it and its offspring on the same day.” (Vayikrah 22:28)

Pablo Escobar was a Colombian drug lord. He was undoubtedly evil. He was responsible for the deaths of over 600 police officers in addition to killing other people. He was a ruthless kingpin who at one time controlled more than 80% of the cocaine shipped to the U.S. Additionally, he was the mastermind behind the bombing of a Colombian jetliner that killed 100 people in 1989.

That being said, this same bad guy also did a lot of good. He built houses for over 400 people that had literally lived on piles of garbage. He created clean water and sewer systems, built new airports and schools, funded churches and sports arenas, constructed a free zoo, and gave everyone a personal budget for medical care.

“If you find a bird’s nest… and the mother is roosting on the young birds or the eggs, you shall not take the mother with the young” (Devarim 22:6). First you are supposed to send the mother bird away and then you make take the young or the eggs for yourself. Rambam explains that the reason is the same as why you may not slaughter a mother animal and its young on the same day. It is an act of cruelty since animals instinctively love their young and suffer when they see them slaughtered or taken away. Ramban explains that these commandments are meant to develop the traits of compassion and mercy. Even a ritual slaughterer who kills the animals in a painless way, can develop the trait of cruelty if he slaughters the mother animal on the same day as he slaughters her child.

The Midrash (27:11) quotes a pasuk from Mishlei (12:10). “A righteous man cares for the needs of his animal, but the mercy of the wicked is cruel”. The Midrash says that the “righteous man” refers to Hashem. Hashem gave three mitzvos to develop the traits of compassion and mercy. The Torah teaches not to take the mother bird with the young, not to slaughter a mother and child animals on the same day, and not to slaughter an animal for the first seven days of birth. The mercy of the wicked is cruel refers to Sancherev who killed women and their children on the same day. Another explanation is that the wicked refers to Haman who wanted to annihilate all the Jews, including women and children. He wanted to kill the Jewish babies and wanted to kill parents with their children on the very same day.

The Maharzu explains that “the mercy of the wicked is cruel” means that Sancherev and Haman showed cruelty where they should have shown mercy.

It appears from the explanation of the Maharzu that Hashem had an added grievance against Sancherev and Haman because they did not act mercifully. Even though they wanted to annihilate all the Jews, they should have shown a measure of mercy by not killing mothers and children on the same day.

This seems absurd! How can there be a grievance against such wicked people that they should have shown some mercy during their act of killing? Would we think that such evil people can even have a trace of mercy in their hearts? Apparently (since this was an added grievance against them) such evil murders do have a measure of the trait of mercy embedded in their hearts. The evil Pablo Escobar had a measure of mercy within him and used it. Sancherev and Haman also had a measure of mercy, deep inside themselves. After all, they were all created in the “image of Hashem” and the trait of mercy was implanted within them. However, they did not tap into it.

All people were created in the image of Hashem and have some positive character traits, even though they may be buried deep inside their hearts. Certainly Jews, who are specifically described as merciful, have this trait in abundance. We should never despair of arousing someone’s compassion. Even if a person seems to be tough and callous, his heart can be receptive.

Parshas Kedoshim

The Secret to Help Others Succeed!

“…The townspeople should come to the well… with their sticks and scythes. They should call out, ‘Ours [Our Spirit] will be victorious…’” (The Midrash Tanchuma 9)

As a group of frogs was traveling through the woods, two of them fell into a deep pit. When the other frogs crowded around the pit and saw how deep it was, they told the two frogs that there was no hope left for them. However, the two frogs ignored what the others were saying, and they proceeded to try and jump out of the pit. Despite their efforts, the group of frogs at the top of the pit were still saying that they should just give up. They would never make it out. Eventually, one of the frogs took heed to what the others were saying, and he gave up, falling to his death. The other frog continued to jump as hard as he could. Again, the crowd of frogs yelled at him to stop the pain and just die. He jumped even harder and finally made it out. When he got out, the other frogs said, “Did you not hear us?” The frog explained to them that he was deaf. He thought they were encouraging him the entire time. (“The 10 Most Inspirational Short Stories I’ve Heard” by Dan Western)

The Midrash Tanchuma on this week’s parsha brings a beautiful story. There was a friendly Spirit that lived in a well of a certain town for many years. A Spirit from elsewhere came and wanted to kick out the Spirit from this town. The good Spirit approached a pious man from the town, asking for help. The good Spirit told him that he had lived in this town for many years and did not harm anyone. He said that an evil Spirit came and wanted to kick him out of the town and cause harm to the townspeople. The pious man wondered how he could help. The good Spirit told him to do the following: “The townspeople should come to the well in the afternoon, with their sticks and scythes. They should call out, ‘Ours [Our Spirit] will be victorious, ours will be victorious.’ That will cause the bad Spirit to run away.” The townspeople followed the instructions of the good Spirit. They remained at the well until they saw a drop of blood floating on the water. That was an indication that they had succeeded, and the bad Spirit left town.

The townspeople really didn’t do anything. They weren’t involved in the actual battle. It simply appeared as if they were helping (Eitz Yosef). However, their moral support and encouragement to the good Spirit helped him succeed. The townspeople’s encouragement made the difference between victory and defeat.

We learn an important lesson from this story. If we can actively help someone in need, we certainly should. However, there are times that we are unable to help. In those circumstances, our words of encouragement can uplift the spirits of the person in need. The good feelings generated by knowing that someone wants him to succeed can spell the difference between success and failure. If a person is ill, encouraging words or even a smile can uplift his spirits and help him recover.

As we see from the story with the frogs, encouraging words can spell the difference between life and death.

Parshas Acharei Mos

Put a Temporary Brake on Your Intense Emotions!

“Hashem spoke to Moshe after the death of Aharon’s two sons, when they approached before Hashem, and they died.” (Vayikrah 16:1)

There is a famous story quoted in some sefarim. A very simple Jew heard his rabbi discuss the lechem hapanim and their importance. The lechem hapanim was one of the services that the kohanim were involved with. They were the 12 loaves of bread that were put on the Shulchan (table) in the Beis HaMikdash and remained fresh for the entire week. This simple Jew was so inspired. He decided that he would bring the lechem hapanim as an offering to Hashem. Every week he would bake 12 loaves of bread and put them in the aron (ark) in the shul. Each week the loaves were gone. This Jew was so happy. It seemed that Hashem was accepting his offering each week. One Friday the rabbi met this Jew in shul as he was placing the loaves in the aron. The rabbi questioned what the Jew was doing. When the Jew told him, the rabbi said that it was ridiculous. They were probably taken by the shamash (the shul caretaker). The two of them waited silently. The shamash soon entered the shul and walked straight to the aron where he took the 12 fresh challahs. The simple Jew was devasted. He thought that Hashem was taking the challahs and accepting his “offering”. He felt so broken and so silly when he saw that it was the shamash taking them. Soon after, the Ari z”l (Rabbi Yitzhak Halevi Luria Ashkenazi, a master of the Kabbalah, the hidden secrets contained in the Torah) asked the rabbi why he made the simple Jew feel so bad for his act of total sincerity and love. The Ari z”l told the rabbi that this simple Jew had brought Hashem so much nachas with his sincere “offering”.

On the other hand, we see that sincerity alone isn’t always enough. Two of Aharon’s sons, Nadav and Avihu, were killed by Hashem. On the day that the Mishkan (Tabernacle) was set-up, the holy Nadav and Avihu brought an unauthorized korban (sacrifice) of ketores (spices) to Hashem. As a result of their actions, Hashem sent forth beams of fire which entered their nostrils. Their souls were taken while their bodies remained intact.

There are various opinions about which specific action of Nadav and Avihu caused them to be punished by death. Targum Onkelus explains that their punishment was for the “aish zara”, the unauthorized korban that they brought. What was their rationale for doing so? The dedication of the Mishkan was such a special moment. Perhaps Nadav and Avihu had such an intense love for Hashem that they wanted to show that love by bringing a korban (see the Sifra).

This wasn’t the first time that Nadav and Avihu showed such intense love for Hashem. At the time of the giving of the Torah, those who were greater were able to come closer to Har Sinai. Obviously, Moshe went up Har Sinai. Aharon was the next closest. After Aharon, the next closest were Nadav and Avihu. At that time, they stared at Hashem’s Holy Presence “while eating and drinking” (Shmos 24:11). Targum Onkelus explains that Nadav and Avihu did not actually eat and drink. Rather, they felt such intense love for Hashem and such pleasure that they felt as if they had just enjoyed a good meal and a good drink.

There are times in our lives when we feel intense emotions and want to act upon them. That can be very good, as seen by the actions of the simple Jew in the above story. However, we must put a temporary hold on the action that our emotions are encouraging us to do. We must stop to think (using our intellect) and ask ourselves, “Is this truly a good idea? Am I doing a harmful action just because I have such intense feelings? Am I doing what Hashem truly wants of me? Am I harming others in my zeal?” As we saw from Nadav and Avihu, their intense love for Hashem may have led them to do the wrong thing which caused their punishment.

On the one hand, when we feel especially close to Hashem, we should act upon those feelings to bring us even closer to Hashem. On the other hand, we must first evaluate if that action we want to do for the sake of Hashem will indeed bring pleasure to Hashem.

Parshas Metzorah

Listen to What I Just Heard About…!

“…[The severity of] causing a separation amongst brothers is learnt from Pharoah who caused a separation between Avrohom and Sarah…” (Vayikrah Rabbah 16:1)

Rabbi Yoseph Dov Soloveitchik (The Beis Halevi), the renowned Torah scholar who started the dynasty of Brisk, was born in the year 1820. He married at a young age. His father-in-law fully supported this renowned Torah scholar to enable him to continue his learning, uninterrupted. He was soon blessed with a baby daughter. His brother-in-law was very jealous at all the attention that he was receiving ever since he had entered the family. His brother-in-law looked for every opportunity to disparage him to his father-in-law. He said that Rabbi Yoseph Dov was not as religious as he had seemed. The poison finally worked and Rabbi Yoseph Dov’s father-in-law demanded that he divorce his wife. His wife had also been poisoned by the slander and agreed with her father. Rabbi Yoseph Dov refused any money that his father-in-law had offered and left behind everything his father-in-law had given him. He kissed his daughter goodbye and left town wearing his old suit, taking his few belongings with him. His mother-in-law was the only one who sided with him. She tearfully said goodbye to him. – Based on The Quill of the Heart, published by the Chofetz Chaim Heritage Foundation            Slander caused by jealousy ruined this marriage!

The Midrash (Vayikrah Rabbah 16:1) lists seven actions which are punishable by the supernatural skin disease of tzoraas. The worst of those actions is speaking loshon hara because it is the cause of all other sins, including idolatry, adultery, and murder (Yefei Toar, commenting on the Midrash). Loshon Hara causes a physical or emotional separation between friends, between spouses, or between us and Hashem. The Midrash proves from Pharaoh that the punishment for causing this separation is tzoraas. Although Pharaoh did not speak loshon hara, his actions caused the same result as loshon hara. Pharaoh caused a physical separation by taking Sarah away from Avrohom Aveinu. Pharaoh wanted Sarah as his wife. Pharaoh also caused an emotional separation between Avrohom and Sarah. The Midrash (Lech Lecha 41:2) says that when Hashem told Avrohom to leave his birthplace, Hashem promised that He would bless Avrohom and make his name great. Sarah did not receive this promise but had faith that this would also apply to her. Had Avrohom been taken into Pharoah’s palace together with Sarah, she would have felt secure. Now that she was in this predicament by herself, she had doubts if she would be saved. Sarah felt “upset” with Avrohom who was not together with her. As a result, she felt slightly insecure. This caused a slight emotional separation between Avrohom and Sarah. Furthermore, in attempting to save herself, Sarah told Pharaoh that she was married to Avrohom. This revelation of Avrohom’s secret could potentially have made Avrohom upset. Avrohom had made everyone think that he and Sara were brother and sister in order to protect himself from harm. Now the secret was known. (Sarah was Avrohom’s wife. She was also his niece. Commentators explain that people would often call their close relatives their sister. During their travels to dangerous foreign countries, when Avrohom asked Sarah to say she was his sister, it was truthful).

These rifts that Pharaoh caused were only temporary and couldn’t have been so bad. After all, Sarah wouldn’t have stayed annoyed at Avrohom since it wasn’t Avrohom’s fault that he wasn’t also taken captive in Pharaoh’s palace together with Sarah. Avrohom could not have been annoyed that Sarah revealed his secret to protect herself. Despite this, Pharaoh was punished with tzoraas.

Pharaoh was punished with tzoraas for the separation he caused between husband and wife and NOT for the evil intentions he had in mind to do to Sarah. From this we see how serious it is to cause a physical or emotional separation between people.

We see how careful we must be. Speaking loshon hara can cause rifts between friends or spouses. Even if the rifts are only temporary, we are held responsible for them.

Based on a dvar Torah by Rabbi A. Henach Leibowitz zt”l,
Rosh HaYeshiva of Yeshivas Chofetz Chaim

Parshas Tazria

Be a Thinking Person -Don’t Repeat Your Mistakes!

“And Hashem spoke to Moshe and Aharon saying, ‘When a man has, in the skin of his flesh, a rising or a scab or a bright spot and it becomes in the skin of his flesh the plague of tzoraas…’.” (Vayikrah 13:1-2)

I was driving when I saw the flash of a traffic camera. I figured that my picture had been taken for speeding, even though I knew I wasn’t. Just to be sure, I went around the block and passed the same spot, driving even more slowly. Again, the camera flashed. Thinking this was funny, I drove past even slower, three more times. I was laughing as the camera snapped away each time while I drove by it at a snail’s pace. Two weeks later, I got five tickets in the mail for driving without a seat belt.     -by Adam J. Smargon from The Dumb Book by the Editors of the Reader’s Digest

You ate a food and broke out in hives on half of your body. A week later, you ate the same food and broke out in hives on two thirds of your body. Would you eat the same food a third time?

The Rambam writes that tzoraas was not a physical disease. Rather, it was a supernatural disease to punish a person speaking lashon hara (talebearing; speaking badly about others). If a person spoke loshon hora once, this supernatural disease would attach itself to a person’s house. If he continued speaking loshon hara a second time, his clothes would contract tzoraas. If he continued speaking loshon hara a third time, his body would be afflicted with tzoraas.

If you saw your friend’s punishment for loshon hara coming closer -first his house and then his clothes, what would you think about him if he speaks it a third time? Won’t you think that he is being foolish? That his actions are not logical? Now look in the mirror and see yourself. You are the one who is speaking loshon hara, again and again. How can you? Don’t you see the punishment becoming more severe? Don’t you know that the more you repeat the sin, the more you begin to feel that your actions are permissible (Shaare Teshuvah 1:5)? Don’t you know that speaking badly about others causes a lack of peace and unity? Causing disunity delays the Third and final Beis HaMikdash (Holy Temple) from being built. When the Beis HaMikdash will be built there will be peace and tranquility in the world.

We must constantly be thinking people. We must think about our actions or words before we do something or say something. Are we doing or saying something beneficial? Are we promoting peace and unity? Are we harming others (and thereby ourselves, too)?

Thinking people become respectful people. We should be thinking people who bring peace and unity and will help bring the rebuilding of our Beis HaMikdash.

Parshas Shmini

How Dare You Criticize ME -It Was YOUR Fault!

“Why didn’t you eat the sin-offering in the Sanctuary, seeing it is most holy and Hashem gave it to you to bear the sins of the congregation, to make atonement for them…?” (Vayikrah 10:17)

Tom was thinking, “My boss, John, has such nerve! True, last month’s business decision just caused the business to lose 10 million dollars. John was the one who made the decision. It wasn’t me! No way that I am taking the blame! John should accept the fact that he was the one who made the mistake.”

Tom’s reaction was automatic and understandable. No one likes to be criticized. It puts us on the defensive and makes us feel bad. We feel compelled to respond to protect our sense of worth. It’s especially true if the criticism is totally unjustified. If it was totally his fault, what nerve he has, to blame me!

Tom was 100% correct. However, because he didn’t control his reaction, he lost his job. Where was he going to find another job with such a high salary? Too bad that Tom couldn’t accept the criticism quietly.

It was the eighth day of the celebration of the Mishkan (Tabernacle). It was the day that the Mishkan would be permanently set up. The joy of the day was marred by the Heavenly deaths of two of Aharon’s sons. Aharon was somehow able to control his grief to be able continue his duties on this special day. Various sacrifices were brought on this day. Moshe found out that the Rosh Chodesh sacrifice was burnt and not eaten. Moshe got “angry” (one of the very few times in his life that he displayed anger) at Aharon’s remaining two sons, Elazer and Itamar, for burning instead of eating this korban. “Why didn’t you eat the sin-offering in the Sanctuary, seeing it is most holy and Hashem gave it to you to bear the sins of the congregation, to make atonement for them…?”

The great leader, Moshe Rabbeinu, rebuked Elazer and Itamar for doing the wrong thing. Moshe even told them to respond and explain their actions. Their to the criticism was silence. They didn’t say anything to defend their actions. They could have responded to Moshe, since they had acted correctly in not eating the korban (as Moshe later admitted). Yet they did not. Rashi explains that they felt it wasn’t respectful to respond to the rebuke of their teacher. They also felt that it was a lack of respect to respond in front of their father (Their father should be the one responding and not them. Aharon did respond soon after).

Elazar and Itamar were rewarded for their herculean effort of not responding to criticism. One opinion in the Midrash (13:1) is that their reward was a personal message from Hashem. Another opinion explains that this act saved their lives, as they were destined to die.

Our G-d given task in our lifetime is to come close to Hashem through learning Torah and performing mitzvos. We are also supposed to refine our character traits. In order to properly refine our character traits and have personal growth, we must be willing to accept criticism. We must be willing to listen objectively and change, if need be. We must to be open to listen and examine our actions carefully, if we are told that we erred. We must do this even when we feel we are totally correct.

“Criticism may not be agreeable, but it is necessary. It fulfills the same function as pain in the human body. It calls attention to an unhealthy state of things.” –Winston Churchill

Parshas Tzav

Hashem Has Extra Special Love for…

“It [the Mincha offering] shall not be baked with leaven…it is most holy (kodesh kodoshim) as the sin offering and the guilt offering.” (Vayikrah 6:10)

There was a Jewish immigrant who came to the United States from Europe in the 1920s and refused to work on Shabbos. Each week, he informed his boss on Friday that he would not be coming to work on Saturday. The boss warned him that, if he did not come in on Saturday, he should not come on Monday or ever again. Thus, he would begin each week looking for a new job. At one point several months passed without a job. The man was unable to pay his rent, and he and his family were evicted from their apartment. As he, his wife and his children were leaving their apartment, the building’s custodian saw them and felt bad for them. He told them that there was a coal room near the heating system in the basement where they could live until their situation improved. Having no other choice, the family moved into the coal room and lived there.

One day, the children were playing outside the building, with their faces covered with soot from the coal room. A wealthy Jewish man passed by, and when he saw them, he assumed they were African-American children, as their faces were black. But as he drew closer, he heard them speaking Yiddish. When he heard their story, he was very moved. He pulled out his checkbook, asked the couple how much they needed to get set up in a new apartment, and wrote out a check.

The wife turned to the man and asked if he was shomer Shabbos. “I used to be,” the man said, “but after I came to this country and started earning money, I gave up Shabbos.” “Then I cannot take your money,” the woman said. “What?” the man asked. “What do you mean?” “We are sacrificing for the sake of Shabbos,” she explained. “We got into this situation because we refused to work on Shabbos. We will not take money from somebody who works on Shabbos.”

The man went home and told his wife what had transpired. She became very upset and said, “Remember, when we first married, we, too, observed Shabbos. But then we became wealthy and gave it up. I want to keep Shabbos again”.

The man agreed. He returned to the couple, told them that he would now be keeping Shabbos, and not only gave them a check, but hired the husband to work in his business. The husband accepted and went on to become financially successful. (from Living Shabbos by Rabbi David Sutton)

Whenever a Korban Mincha, a meal offering consisting of flour, was brought it had the status of “most holy” – “kodesh kodoshim”. That was so, even if it was just brought as a free-will offering and not as sin offering. The Abarbanel questions why that should be so. He answers that a Mincha offering was brought by a poor person who could not afford to offer an animal as a sacrifice. This korban brought by a poor person was especially cherished and beloved to Hashem. That is because of the financial difficulty the poor person went through to even bring this less expensive sacrifice. Thus, it is always considered “most holy” – “kodesh kodoshim”.

We see a similar idea in the Mishna, in Tractate Bikurim (3:8). The rich bring their first fruits to Jerusalem in silver and gold baskets which they bring back home with them. The poor bring them in baskets woven with willow reeds. The baskets of the poor are accepted by the kohanim, together with the fruit in them. Why do the kohanim take the baskets of the poor yet return the baskets of the rich? The Malbim explains that the poor probably made the baskets themselves, especially to place the first fruits in them. Since the poor went to the extra bother, the self-sacrifice, their baskets are accepted by the kohanim. The baskets of the rich were bought and didn’t involve the same measure of self-sacrifice.

All of us have many opportunities to make personal sacrifices to Hashem. It may be sacrificing in order to learn Torah, to keep Shabbos, to show respect to certain people, to do acts of kindness or to dress more modestly.

We see the extra special love that Hashem has for those who make personal sacrifices in order to serve Him. In Hashem’s eyes, these people are truly special.

Parshas Vayikrah

Why is so Hard to say, “I Am Sorry”?!

“When a ruler sins… in error….” (Vayikrah 4:22)

The following is an excerpt from the Reader’s Digest dated September 15, 2017. Similar stories can be said about friends, spouses, and family. How sad it is when we make a mistake but are too proud to admit it. People have suffered years of misery, estranged from loved ones whom they truly care about, because of their inability to admit their mistakes and say, “I am sorry”.

“Years ago, I had a falling out with a friend due to a misunderstanding that was completely my fault. I was afraid to admit that I was wrong, so we didn’t speak for years. Then we bumped into each other and decided to meet for lunch. It was so pleasant that we kept meeting. After two or three meals together, I felt compelled to apologize for my transgression years earlier”. 

They lost the benefit of their friendship for so many years. Many are not so fortunate and pass away after a life of sadness of relationships lost. If only they would have had the courage to apologize! Admitting to a mistake and apologizing is not easy, but it is so worthwhile!

If a relationship is important enough to you, you may even choose to take the initiative to be the one to say, “I am sorry”. In so doing, you are saving that close and meaningful connection.

Our parsha discusses the sacrifices brought if different people sin in error. “If” the anointed kohen sins; “If” the Sanhedrin (the high court of 70) sins; “If” any person sins; and “When” the Nasi (leader) sins. Why does the Torah change the wording and not say “If” the Nasi sins? Rashi explains that the word “when” – “asher”, signifies the word “ashrei” which means fortunate or praiseworthy. The pasuk is saying, fortunate is the generation whose leader brings an atonement (a sacrifice to Hashem) for a sin that he does in error. The pasuk also adds the extra word “elokav”, his G-D, indicating that the leader who admits his error has greatness and a special relationship with Hashem (according to the Radak in Shmuel 1; 15:15).

Why was it considered so special for a leader to repent for a sin done in error? You would think that it would be easy for a great person to want to get atonement for his sin! HaRav Henach Leibowitz zt”l answered that it is very difficult for any person, even a great person, to admit that he sinned or that he made a mistake. Even admitting a small mistake that was done in error, is difficult. The Maharal from Prague, in his commentary the Gur Aryeh, adds a further insight. When a leader admits he sinned it is a sign of his humility. He doesn’t feel that he is too great to admit that he had sinned. Since he is not arrogant, he is more apt to be a gentle leader to his people. Fortunate is the generation whose leaders are humble and won’t lord excessively over their people.

Admitting a mistake is not an easy thing to do. It requires humbleness and courage. Yet it can spare you from untold sadness. Remember, it is never too late to say, “I am sorry”.

Parshas Behar/Bechukosai

A Shmittah a Day Keeps the Locusts Away!

“Speak to the Jewish people… when you come into the land that I give you, the land shall observe a Shabbos rest for Hashem” (Vayikrah 25:2)

How will I earn a living? Where will I get food from? How will I manage? These are all valid questions that could be asked by a farmer in the land of Israel, prior to the shmittah year (Every 7th year is shmittah. There is a mitzvah not to work the land in Israel). To answer all those questions, the Torah promises that the farmer will have an abundance of food in the 6th year – enough to sustain him & his family for the 6th, 7th & 8th years (until the new crop is harvested). What a special blessing!

Two famous shmittah miracles occurred in the religious settlement of Moshav Komemiyut, a settlement that kept the laws of shmittah. At the close of the shmittah year in 1952, they were left without any wheat to plant. With great difficulty they bought leftover wheat that was in terrible condition, cracked, and full of worms. People from nearby farms, who had not kept the laws of shmittah, laughed at them. A miracle occurred, and it rained at the best time for the crops of Moshav Komemiyut. They actually harvested a bumper crop and were the only settlement in the area that had any yield on the crops.

During the Shmittah year of 1958-1959, a swarm of locust struck the neighboring settlements, destroying most of their crops. The entire swarm then headed towards Komemiyut. As soon as the swarm reached its borders, it turned away and flew away as quickly as it had arrived. Another miracle had occurred for those who kept the mitzvah of shmittah!

What message can we learn from the challenging mitzvah of shmittah?

The pasuk says “Shabbos laShem”. Why is shmittah referred to as Shabbos? Rav Ovadia Mibartunura’s explanation of Rashi is that shmittah, like Shabbos, testifies to the fact that Hashem created the world in six days and rested on the seventh. When you abstain from work on Shabbos, you show your belief that Hashem created and continues to oversee the world, determining what you will earn. You show that same belief when you don’t work your land during the entire 7th year.

In a similar vein, the Alshich explains, shmittah shows that your successes are not the result of your hard work. Your bumper crop wasn’t due to your 12-hour days of plowing, planting, weeding, watering, etc…. Rather, your success is solely due to the graciousness of Hashem.

During the time of the prophet Yirmiyahu the Jews spent too much time working their fields at the expense of Torah learning. Yirmiyahu showed them the jar of manna that had been saved in the Bais HaMikdash. His message to them and to us as well, was that Hashem will provide for your needs, just as He provided in the dessert, through the manna.

Even though you are putting in effort to earn a living, remember that the actual income comes from Hashem. Hashem wants you to remember to do what is of primary importance – to learn Torah!

Parshas Emor

Don’t Place Me on Death Row!

“…He fought with a Jew and cursed him, using Hashem’s Holiest Name…and was placed in jail, awaiting his punishment.” (Vayikrah 24:10-12)

Of the millions of Jewish women in Egypt, only one was attacked and abused. This tragic episode led to the birth of a son. A number of years later, in the midst of a disagreement with another Jew, this man cursed, using Hashem’s Holiest Name. Moshe was unsure as to the correct punishment for this blasphemer. While awaiting instructions from Hashem, Moshe placed him in jail. Rashi says that he was placed in a different cell than the man who awaiting the death penalty for having desecrated Shabbos.

Why wasn’t the blasphemer placed in the same cell?

Rashi explains that his fate was not yet known. Had he been put in the same cell as the one awaiting the death penalty, he would have assumed that his penalty was also death. This would have caused him to feel mental pain and anguish. To avoid his unnecessary suffering, he was placed in a different cell.

The Rosh HaYeshiva of Yeshiva Chofetz Chaim, HaRav A. Henach Leibowitz zt”l, taught a beautiful lesson from this: Should we care about the mental anguish of an evil person? Perhaps we should make him feel as bad as we can, and then punish him? No, we should care about him! It’s true he was a very wicked person, deserving punishment. Yet, Moshe had an obligation not to cause him any extra or undue pain. If he would not be given the death penalty, staying on death row would have caused him undue pain and stress, by his thinking that he would be executed.

If someone bothers us and deserves a punishment, we don’t have the right to give him any extra pain or discomfort. We may not hurt him or his feelings unnecessarily. Certainly, we must be sensitive and sympathetic to the feelings of our friends and family and not cause them any anguish or pain.

As Lag Ba’Omer approaches, we should remember to show care and respect, compassion and love for every Jew!