Don’t Give It Personally

Parshas Reeh

Posted on August 29, 2019 (5779) By Rabbi Yochanan Zweig | Series: Rabbi Zweig on the Parsha | Level: Intermediate Beginner

“Rather, you shall open your hand to him; you shall lend him his requirement…”(15:8)

The Torah instructs us to be open-handed with our destitute brethren. Initial assistance should be in the form of a gift.1 However, continues the verse, if the recipient is reluctant to receive a gift, we should offer assistance in the form of a loan, thereby allowing him to maintain his dignity. The next verse warns that although the seventh year of the Shemitah cycle cancels all outstanding debt, we should not be deterred from issuing the loan.2 Why does a person who has already shown his willingness to assist the destitute without any compensation require a warning not to hesitate if the assistance is in the form of a loan?

When a person gives a gift he experiences a sense of expansiveness. Often it is this feeling of magnanimity which motivates his actions When the assistance is provided as a loan, the sense of magnanimity is lessened. Furthermore, if eventually the loan is cancelled, the recipient does not attribute his good fortune to the actions of the lender. Rather than the lender being perceived as a benefactor, he senses that the recipient has taken advantage of him. Since this is a less than satisfying experience for the lender, the Torah must reiterate that the focus of his actions should be the well-being of the needy and not his own personal satisfaction.

Consequently, money should be lent unhesitatingly even when the seventh year is pending.

1.See Rashi 15:8 2.15:9

That’s What Friends Are For

“This is what you shall not eat…the chasidah…” (14:12,18) The Ramban teaches that the birds which we are prohibited to eat exhibit negative character traits, and therefore, consumption of those birds would infuse these traits into the person’s character.1 In light of this, it is difficult to reconcile the Ramban’s teaching with the Talmud’s explanation of the name “chasidah”, one of the prohibited birds, so called for the “chesed” – “kindness” which it displays towards its friends.2 How could kindness be considered a negative trait?

An answer is given in the name of the Kotzker Rebbe.Since the bird only performs acts of kindness for those whom it considers to be its friends, this is a negative trait. One should be sensitive to anyone in need, not exclusively to friends.

However, this answer does not completely solve the problem. According to the Kotzker Rebbe’s explanation, why does the Torah define the bird by the positive acts that it does, rather than by its negative trait, the chesed which it does not do?

Perhaps the Talmud is teaching us that since the bird considers that which it does for its friends to be a chesed, this is a negative trait. One should view that which he does for his friends as an expression of his commitment to the relationship, not as a charitable act.

1. See Ramban Parshas Shemini 11:13, these are birds that exhibit cruelty. 2. Chullin 63a.

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Body And Soul

“You are children to Hashem, your G-d – you shall not cut yourselves…” (14:1) The Torah juxtaposes the statement “banim atem laHashem” – “you are children to Hashem” to the prohibition “lo sisgodedu” – “you shall not lacerate yourselves”. Rashi explains that since we are Hashem’s children we should not deface our bodies.1 The Talmud teaches that there are three partners in the creation of a human being, the father, the mother and Hashem. Parents supply the child with physical characteristics and Hashem supplies the child with a soul.2 Why does the verse describe our relationship with Hashem as His children in the context of safeguarding our physical form?

From the expression “lo sisgodedu” the Talmud derives the prohibition against separate factions observing divergent Halachic practices within the same community (“aggudos” – “groups”).3 Since the prohibitions against lacerating ourselves and having separate factions are both derived from the same expression, a unifying thread between them must exist. What do they have in common?

In the first paragraph of the Shema we are commanded to teach our children Torah, “veshinantam levanecha”.4 Rashi comments that “your children” refers to “your students” for a person’s students are considered as his children. To support this notion Rashi cites our verse in Parshas Re’eh, “banim atem laHashem” – “you are children to Hashem”.5 How does this verse indicate that a person’s students are his children? It is apparent from Rashi’s comments that he understands that through the study of Hashem’s Torah we become His students, and can therefore be referred to as His children.

The Mishna teaches that a person is obligated to return his teacher’s lost object prior to returning an object lost by his father, for his father provides him with a finite existence while his teacher offers him an infinite existence.6 The Torah taught by his teacher not only guarantees the soul an infinite existence, but also elevates the body given to him by his father from a physical and finite state to a spiritual and eternal state.

Although Hashem is clearly the source of the soul, Torah study enables the body to be perceived as a product of the same source. This message is punctuated by the commandment against lacerating our bodies because we are Hashem’s children; through Torah study we become His students and thereby His children, body and soul. The reconciliation between body and soul is the ultimate proof that we emanate from one source. Since only the Torah is able to accomplish this reconciliation, it is of the utmost importance that the Torah itself be viewed as emanating from one source. Any action distorting this truth undermines the efficacy of the Torah to unite and reconcile all apparent divergent forces in creation. It is therefore self-evident that separate factions observing divergent Halachic practices within the same community cannot be tolerated.

1.14:1 2.Niddah 31a 3.Yevamos 13b 4.6:7 5.Ibid 6.Bava Metziah 33a

Rachmatsrivka Rebbes

(Here is a Pic from the col.org.il)

Here is a picture of Rachmatsrivka Rebbe of Boro Park Shlita may he live a Long Life at 

the Chasuna of Nephew Rav Nachman Yosef Twersky Shlita may he live a Long Life as well who is standing in between His Father The Previous Rachmatsrivka Rebbe of Yerushalayim Ztl and Rav Moshe Ashkenazi Ztl, Rav of the Chabad community in Tel Aviv.

Rav Nachman Yosef Learned in the Slabodka and Brisk Yeshivas before becoming a Chabad Chosid.

THE SHMUZ ON PARSHAT RE’EH

From theshmuz.com

Life: The School of Growth This is an excerpt from the Shmuz on the Parsha book.
“See I have placed in front of you today a blessing and a curse. The blessing: if you will listen to all of the mitzvahs of HASHEM your G-d as I have commanded you today…” — Devarim 11:21


There are two paths in front of you…In these posukim, the Torah sets out two divergent paths. One path leads to ultimate success and blessing, and the other to devastation and curses. If you follow in the ways of HASHEM, you will be richly rewarded. You will look back at your years of sacrifice with enormous joy and satisfaction, saying to yourself, “Whatever price I paid was so worth it. I am now being compensated beyond anything I could have imagined.” On the other hand, if you don’t follow the Torah’s ways, there will come a time when you will deeply regret your mistake and you will look back and say, “Woe is me! How could I have been so foolish? How could I have chosen so poorly?”
A moshol for lifeThe Daas Zakainim brings light to this concept with a moshol. He says it is comparable to a crossroads. One road begins as a difficult thorny trail, then it opens up, and the rest of the way is clear. The other path begins as a smooth passageway, but ends in a thicket of thorns. An old man sits at the crossroads and warns the passersby, “Be careful. This road begins smoothly, but ends up all thorns. Rather choose the other road. Even though it begins as a difficult path, it opens up and will carry you well.” Anyone who listens to the man will work at the outset of his journey, but will travel in peace the rest of the way; whereas anyone who ignores the advice of the old man will get caught in the thorns for rest of his passage.
The Daas Zakainim explains that this is what the Torah is telling us. If a man sins and follows his inclinations, he will find comfort in this world, but when he dies, he will go to Gehennom, which is all thorns. However, if one works in this world and labors in Torah study and mitzvahs, he will merit the World to Come, which is all goodness, joy, and happiness.
What do we gain from the parable?This Daas Zakainim is difficult to understand because the meanings of the posukim seem self-evident – serve HASHEM and you will receive blessing; violate the mitzvahs and you will be cursed. It doesn’t seem that he is adding much to our understanding with this moshol. If the point is that punishment and reward aren’t in this world, but rather in the Next, that concept doesn’t need a parable. Simply state, “the Torah is referring to the World to Come.” What point is the Daas Zakainimtrying to bring home to us with this moshol?
To understand this, we need a different perspective of life.
Progressive weight trainingA rather yeshivishe fellow went to a power-lifting gym to learn how to work out. As a kid, he had little experience with sports and was clearly out of his element. Recognizing this, the coach showed him various exercises and worked closely with him. One day, this fellow was overheard saying, “That coach, I don’t know what’s with him. Every time I get the exercise right, he goes and adds more weight to the bar. What’s wrong with him?”
The point this fellow missed was that progressive weight training is all about increasing the load. The goal of the activity is to coax the body to grow. By gradually increasing the work load, the body is called upon to respond. The work should never be easy. The nature of the activity is to incrementally increase the demand placed on the body, thereby causing it to grow.
This is a good parable because in life we are put into many situations. If a person doesn’t understand why he is on this planet, he will have many questions. Why is life so difficult? Why is it that when I finally get things under control, a whole new set of circumstances arises that sets everything out of kilter? Why can’t life just be easy?
The point that he is missing is the very purpose of life. HASHEM put us on this planet to grow. Many of the challenges and situations are given to us specifically for that reason. It isn’t by accident, and it isn’t because HASHEM doesn’t pay attention. Quite the opposite, these situations were hand-designed to demand from us. They are catalysts to change who we are.
In weight training, the movement of the bar isn’t the significant part; the demand on the body is. So too in life, the situations I face are far less significant than my reactions to them. Who I become is a result of my attitude and the way I handle my challenges.
When a person understands this perspective, then life itself makes sense. If not, then the situations in life seem arbitrary and unfair.
The answer: why the Daas Zakainim used a mosholThe answer to the Daas Zakainim seems to be that this moshol defines our path in life. The road that we are being asked to take isn’t easy. It isn’t laden with roses and doesn’t smell like lilacs. It has thorns. A life properly led will have moments of doubt, pain, and confusion. That doesn’t mean that we are on the wrong path. Quite the opposite, if life is going too smoothly, it’s a bad sign. Since the purpose of life is to grow, we need the challenges of life to help us reach our potential. If the road is too level, that is likely a sign that we have chosen the wrong path.
HASHEM wants us to enjoy our stay on this planet, but there is a plan and a purpose to it all. If a person lives his life in accordance with the Torah, he finds deep satisfaction, an inner sense of peace and tranquility, and true simcha. But it isn’t a walk in the park. There is much work along the way. There are trials, travails, and circumstances that demand growth. If a person responds appropriately, he finds a sense of inner peace because he is in synch with his purpose in life. That sense of balance is an indicator that he is on the right path, and the work that he puts in on that path will bring him to true joy, happiness, and elation in this world, and much more so in the World to Come.

Rav Miller on Parshat Re'eh

From Torasavigdor.org

EAT AND REJOICE!
In Parshas Re’eh Hashem commands the Am Yisroel to bring korbanos to the Beis Hamikdash: ואכלתם שם לפני ה’ אלקיכם ושמחתם בכל משלח ידכם, ”You shall eat there before Hashem your G-d and you shall rejoice” (12:6-7). To eat and rejoice! Although this may imply singing and even dancing, yet these activities are never explicitly mentioned in the Torah. And therefore, we understand that the eating of the korbanos in itself is the rejoicing that Hashem speaks about here. And Hakodosh Baruch Hu wants you to rejoice not merely by eating meat, but by eating meat lifnei Hashem Elokecha, in the Presence of Hashem.
Now, although we have read these words many times, we should stop for a moment and appreciate the significance of this lesson. It is remarkable that Hashem considers eating as the fulfillment of a person’s desire for happiness before Hashem. And if the Torah is letting us know that our joy “before Hashem” should be in the so-called simple pleasure of eating, it is only right that we study this sugya, the topic of “eating before Hashem,” as it is more common and perhaps even more crucial for your service of Hashem than many other sugyos you might study.
The opportunity to gain awareness of Hashem’s kindliness by means of eating is important enough to earn repetition in the Torah frequently. “Before Hashem your G-d you shall eat it… and you shall rejoice before Hashem your G-d” (D’varim 12:18). “And you shall eat before Hashem your G-d and you shall rejoice” (ibid. 14:26). “And you shall eat and be satiated and you shall bless Hashem” (ibid. 8:10).

Bederech Gedolim

Rav Shteinman Zt'l with Rav Aharon Schechter Shlita
(Picture from theantitzemach blog)

Rav Shteinman Zt'l with Rav Shmuel Auerbach Zt'l
(Picture from theyeshivaworld site)



 Rav Aharon Schechter Shlita with Rav Yerucham Olshin Shlita
(Picture from hefkervelt blog)

Rav Aharon Schechter Shlita identifies more with Rav Shmuel Zt'l camp while Rav Yerucham Olshin Shlita Identifies with Rav Shteinman's Camp. But they are still on friendly terms. This should teach us that we can agree to disagree and still be on good terms with each other.

Rabbi Sacks on Parshat Re'eh

From rabbisacks.org Collective Joy Re'eh 5779

PDF (English)   PDF (עברית) Audio  Read online in other languages Click below to download the accompanying Family Edition If we were to ask what key word epitomises the society Jews were to make in the Promised Land, several concepts would come to mind: justice, compassion, reverence, respect, holiness, responsibility, dignity, loyalty. Surprisingly, though, another word figures centrally in Moses’ speeches in Deuteronomy. It is a word that appears only once in each of the other books of the Torah: Genesis, Exodus, Leviticus, and Numbers.[1] Yet it appears twelve times in Deuteronomy, seven of them in Parshat Re’eh. The word is simcha, joy. It is an unexpected word. The story of the Israelites thus far has not been a joyous one. It has been marked by suffering on the one hand, rebellion and dissension on the other. Yet Moses makes it eminently clear that joy is what the life of faith in the land of promise is about. Here are the seven instances in this parsha, and their contexts: The central Sanctuary, initially Shilo: “There in the presence of the Lord your God you and your families shall eat and rejoice in everything you have put your hand to, because the Lord your God has blessed you” (Deut. 12:7). Jerusalem and the Temple: “And there you shall rejoice before the Lord your God, you, your sons and daughters, your menservants and maidservants, and the Levites from your towns” (Deut. 12:12). Sacred food that may be eaten only in Jerusalem: “Eat them in the presence of the Lord your God at the place the Lord your God will choose – you, your sons and daughters, your menservants and maidservants, and the Levites from your towns – and you are to rejoice before the Lord your God in everything you put your hand to” (Deut. 12:18). The second tithe: “Use the silver to buy whatever you like: cattle, sheep, wine, or other fermented drink, or anything you wish. Then you and your household shall eat there in the presence of the Lord your God and rejoice” (Deut. 14:26). The festival of Shavuot: “And rejoice before the Lord your God at the place He will choose as a dwelling for His name – you, your sons and daughters, your menservants and maidservants, the Levites in your towns, and the strangers, the fatherless, and the widows living among you” (Deut. 16:11). The festival of Succot: “Be joyful at your feast – you, your sons and daughters, your menservants and maidservants, and the Levites, the strangers, the fatherless, and the widows who live in your towns” (Deut. 16:14). Succot, again. “For seven days, celebrate the feast to the Lord your God at the place the Lord your God will bless you in all your harvest and in all the work of your hands, and your joy will be complete [vehayita ach same’ach]” (Deut. 16:15). Why does Moses emphasise joy specifically in the book of Deuteronomy? Perhaps because is there, in the speeches Moses delivered in the last month of his life, that he scaled the heights of prophetic vision never reached by anyone else before or since. It is as if, standing on a mountaintop, he sees the whole course of Jewish history unfold below him, and from that dizzying altitude he brings back a message to the people gathered around him: the next generation, the children of those he led out of Egypt, the people who will cross the Jordan he will not cross and enter the land he is only able to see from afar. What he tells them is unexpected, counter-intuitive. In effect he says this: “You know what your parents suffered. You have heard about their slavery in Egypt. You yourselves have known what it is to wander in the wilderness without a home or shelter or security. You may think those were the greatest trials, but you are wrong. You are about to face a harder trial. The real test is security and contentment.” Absurd though this sounds, it has proved true throughout Jewish history. In the many centuries of dispersion and persecution, from the destruction of the Second Temple to the nineteenth century, no one raised doubts about Jewish continuity. They did not ask, “Will we have Jewish grandchildren?” Only since Jews achieved freedom and equality in the Diaspora and independence and sovereignty in the State of Israel has that question come to be asked. When Jews had little to thank God for, they thanked Him, prayed to Him, and came to the synagogue and the house of study to hear and heed His word. When they had everything to thank Him for, many turned their backs on the synagogue and the house of study. Moses was giving prophetic expression to the great paradox of faith: It is easy to speak to God in tears. It is hard to serve God in joy. It is the warning he delivered as the people came within sight of their destination: the Promised Land. Once there, they were in danger of forgetting that the land was theirs only because of God’s promise to them, and only for as long as they remembered their promise to God. Simcha is usually translated as joy, rejoicing, gladness, happiness, pleasure, or delight. In fact, simcha has a nuance untranslatable into English. Joy, happiness, pleasure, and the like are all states of mind, emotions. They belong to the individual. We can feel them alone. Simcha, by contrast, is not a private emotion. It means happiness shared. It is a social state, a predicate of “we,” not “I.” There is no such thing as feeling simcha alone. Moses repeatedly labours the point. When you rejoice, he says time and again, it must be “you, your sons and daughters, your menservants and maidservants, and the Levites, the strangers, the fatherless, and the widows in your towns.” A key theme of Parshat Re’eh is the idea of a central Sanctuary “in the place the Lord your God will choose.” As we know from later Jewish history, during the reign of King David, this place was Jerusalem, where David’s son Solomon eventually built the Temple. What Moses is articulating for the first time is the idea of simcha as communal, social, and national rejoicing. The nation was to be brought together not just by crisis, catastrophe, or impending war, but by collective celebration in the presence of God. The celebration itself was to be deeply moral. Not only was this a religious act of thanksgiving; it was also to be a form of social inclusion. No one was to be left out: not the stranger, or the servant, or the lonely (the orphan and widow). In a remarkable passage in the Mishneh Torah, Maimonides makes this point in the strongest possible terms: And while one eats and drinks, it is their duty to feed the stranger, the orphan, the widow, and other poor and unfortunate people, for those who lock the doors to their courtyard, eating and drinking with their family, without giving anything to eat and drink to the poor and the bitter in soul – their meal is not a rejoicing in a Divine commandment, but a rejoicing only in their own stomach. It is of such persons that Scripture says, “Their sacrifices shall be to them as the bread of mourners, all that eat thereof shall be polluted; for their bread is a disgrace to their own appetite” (Hos. 9:4). Rejoicing of this kind is a disgrace to those who indulge in it, as Scripture says, “And I will spread dung upon your faces, even the dung of your sacrifices” (Mal. 2:3).[2] Moses’ insight remains valid today. The West is more affluent than any previous society has ever been. Our life expectancy is longer, our standards of living higher, and our choices wider than at any time since Homo sapiens first walked on earth. Yet Western societies are not measurably happier. The most telling indices of unhappiness – drug and alcohol abuse, depressive illness, stress-related syndromes, eating disorders, and the rest – have risen by between 300 and 1,000 per cent in the space of two generations. Why so? In 1968 I met the Lubavitcher Rebbe, Rabbi Menachem Mendel Schneersohn, of blessed memory, for the first time. While I was there, the Chassidim told me the following story. A man had written to the Rebbe in roughly these terms: “I am depressed. I am lonely. I feel that life is meaningless. I try to pray, but the words do not come. I keep mitzvot but find no peace of mind. I need the Rebbe’s help.” The Rebbe sent a brilliant reply without using a single word. He simply circled the first word of every sentence and sent the letter back. The word in each case was “I.” Our contemporary consumer is constructed in the first-person singular: I want, I need, I must have. There are many things we can achieve in the first-person singular but one we cannot, namely, simcha – because simcha is the joy we share, the joy we have only because we share. That, said Moses before the Israelites entered their land, would be their greatest challenge. Suffering, persecution, a common enemy, unite a people and turn it into a nation. But freedom, affluence, and security turn a nation into a collection of individuals, each pursuing his or her own happiness, often indifferent to the fate of those who have less, the lonely, the marginal, and the excluded. When that happens, societies start to disintegrate. At the height of their good fortune, the long slow process of decline begins. The only way to avoid it, said Moses, is to share your happiness with others, and, in the midst of that collective, national celebration, serve God.[3] Blessings are not measured by how much we own or earn or spend or possess but by how much we share. Simcha is the mark of a sacred society. It is a place of collective joy. Shabbat Shalom