The Measure of a Gadol

"The child grew up … It happened in those days that Moses grew up and went out to his brethren and observed their burdens; and he saw an Egyptian man striking a Hebrew man, of his brethren" (Shemos 2 10-11).

Ramban, commenting on the apparently repetitive mention of Moshe’s growing up, explains that the first phrase refers to Moshe’s attainment of physical maturity. The second phrase refers to Moshe’s growth in intellectual and spiritual maturity, to his becoming "a man of understanding."

The Torah proceeds to specify the sign of Moshe’s spiritual maturity as the fact that he went out to his brothers and saw their labors. Rashi comments on this phrase that Moshe contemplated their plight and "applied his eyes and heart to suffer with them."

The mark of a gadol, a person who possesses greatness and maturity, is defined by the Torah in terms of his ability to be concerned with others. Hashem is called HaGadol, the Great, and the sages explain this appellation to refer to Hashem’s trait of goodness and kindness. Therein lies His gadlus. The concern that envelops and permeates all existence is the mark of His unlimited greatness. Hence He is HaGadol.

We are exhorted to walk in Hashem’s ways and emulate His attributes "As He is called merciful, so, too, should you be merciful." Thus, if Hashem is called HaGadol, we too must strive to emulate this gadlus. Just as He is concerned with all Creation, so must we strive to emulate that all-encompassing concern. Rabbi Shimon Shkop, zt"l, in his preface to Shaarei Yoshor, addresses the following paradox. On the one hand, man was created with a natural concern for himself and his own personal needs. "Love thy neighbor as thyself" is predicated on self-love and self-concern. And yet, man is exhorted to be concerned with others. Rav Shimon explains that the key to resolving these seemingly conflicting concerns lies in the definition of self.

Everyone possesses their "ani"-the essence of their being. As the Mishnah clearly states in Pirkei Avos (114), "If I am not for myself, who will be for me?" However, the definition of this selfhood can be expanded beyond the parameters of one’s physical person. Many people feel that their spouses are part and parcel of themselves-"His wife is like his own body," say the sages. Hence one’s concern for a spouse is included in the natural concern for self. Others extend their self to include their families, still others their neighbors. The more one perfects himself, the more his concept of self encompasses. The truly great person feels all of the Jewish people, indeed the entire world, as part of his self. And so, the Mishnah in Avos continues, when my ani is limited to my individual self alone, what is the value of this ani?"

This outreach of the self is not mere sympathy, but rather a deep empathy and total identification. Hence, it requires applying one’s eyes and heart. It necessitates observing, assessing and understanding the circumstances and needs of others.

Appreciating this gadlus should inspire us to strive to extend our concern to include all of our fellow Jews. When we achieve this goal Hashem will reciprocate as He did in Egypt. When Moshe applied his eyes and ears to his fellow Jews, Hashem responded in kind. As the Torah tells us, "And God heard their moaning, and God remembered His covenant with Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob. God saw the Children of Israel; and God knew" (Shemos 2:24-25). And Rashi comments "Hashem put His heart to suffer with them and did not turn His eyes from them."
(Rabbi Zev Leff)

Miller’s Musings – Parshas Vayechi

בס”דלעילוי נשמת לאה בת אברהם and רפואה שלמהאוריה חיים בן חנה יהודית, שרה נעמה בת רבקה עליזהand יהושע יוסף בן מלכה שרה

This Miller’s Musings is sponsored in honour of the Bar Mitzvah of Jacob Behar (Yisroel ben Moshe) and as a zechus for Yisroel ben Elisheva Golda and L’ilui Nishmas Yehuda Leib ben Yaakov Eliezer, Golda bas Zvi HaKohen, Yehuda Yaakov ben Yisroel Leib and Fayge Leah bas Yonah

MILLER’S MUSINGS

פרשת ויחי

They’ll Take It From Here

People travel across the globe to receive blessings from the greatest people of their generation, so imagine what they would do to receive one from one of our forefathers. Our Parsha tells us how each of the sons of Yaakov came before him to be given a brocho before he passed away. When it came to Yosef’s turn, he brought his own two sons, Ephraim and Menashe. Yaakov responded to this break from the apparent norm, with the question “Who are these?”, implying that they were not due a blessing. This lack of suitability as recipients was because of some evil descendants that will be part of their lineage; Yerovom and Achov. Yosef’s response does not seem to resolve Yaakov’s concerns, saying “They are my sons whom Hashem gave me here,” yet Yaakov decides to bless them regardless. Rashi tells us that he showed his father the document of betrothal and marriage contract and this assuaged his fears. Why? In what way did any of this help?

Within any area of Judaism there are any number of opinions, but we will focus here on two particular schools of thought to help answer our question. The first suggests that a Jew’s spiritual responsibilities lie solely with themselves. As explained by Rav Boruch Sorotzkin, the basis for this way of thinking is that any association with those on a lesser level than ourselves, will by necessity exact some damage on one’s own spirituality. As one tries to impact the soul of another for the better, the connection of these two souls will inevitably cause some blemish that, even if not felt by them, will have an impact on future generations. The second approach is that a person is not created to only worry about their own spirituality. Kindness is not solely for physical matters; we must also be concerned that others around us achieve their spiritual potential. Despite the cost to ourselves, we must be concerned for the eternal life of every Jew. Yaakov saw something disturbing that would arise from Ephraim and Menashe, so Yosef’s response was to explain that this was not due to a fault in they themselves, proven by the validity of his marriage and their birth. It was because Hashem “gave me (them) here” in Egypt. He put them in a place where damage will be caused to their progeny, but not as a reflection of their personal spirituality, only of where they had been placed. They were therefore fit to receive his blessings.

They say parenthood is the easiest thing to have an opinion of, but the hardest thing to do. It is a constant tightrope walk of letting go just enough but holding on tight all the way. How much we expose our children to, is just one of the balancing acts we perform every day. There is no doubt that exposure to some negativity is inevitable and can have an effect, so we have to manage this as best we can and then trust the education we have given our children as parents. If we are too worried about any contact with the non-Jewish world, perhaps it says more about the strength of our parenting, than the weakness of our children. If we cannot allow those less religious than ourselves into our home for fear of what may occur, what does that say about our success in giving our values over to our children? We must believe in our children, believe in ourselves and believe in the truth and power of the Torah to overcome the challenges they may face.

*May we trust in the greatness of this Shabbos, this Torah and this next generation.*

If you would like to sponsor a week of Miller’s Musings l’ilui nishmas someone, for a Refuah Sheleima or to celebrate a Simcha please send a message to millersmusingsrabbi or to 07531332970

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Shimmy Miller
Rebbe/Teacher/Counsellor/Tutor| Manchester Mesivta and Private
07531322970 | rabbimiller.mesivta| http://rabbimillersmusings.blogspot.co.uk/
LinkedIn: https://www.linkedin.com/pub/shimmy-miller/9/934/9a3

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Parshas Vayechi

Too Much Of A Good Thing

At the beginning of Parshas Vayechi, Yaakov Avinu gathered his sons to speak to them. In Bereishis 49:16, Yaakov addressed his son Dan: “Dan will judge his nation”. Yaakov was, in a sense, saying that Dan (as his name implies) has a unique sense of justice within him, and as a result it is appropriate that his tribe will produce judges for our people. Our Rabbis tell us that Yaakov was referring to Samson, who was from the tribe of Dan. Samson would judge the Jewish people for 20 years. Samson inherited this ability from his great grandfather Dan, who possessed a tremendous sense of fairness.

The Talmud (Pesachim 4a) tells of an individual who would always say, “Judge my case” and concludes that this individual must have come from the tribe of Dan. Rash”i explains that this man would insist on going to court about every little matter, refusing to settle without taking the matter before judges.

This Gemara [Talmud] is hard to understand. When Yaakov said, “Dan will judge his nation” he was referring to a beautiful attribute of the tribe of Dan — his sense of fairness and justice. However, here the Gemara implies that Dan’s attribute is bad, by assuming that this fellow, who would always say, “sue me” or “I’ll see you in court,” must have been from the tribe of Dan. How do we reconcile this contradiction?

Rabbi Henoch Leibowitz says that this Gemara teaches us an important lesson about character traits (midos). We speak about a person having good character traits — being honest and humble, not losing one’s temper, not being haughty. Why are they referred to as “midos” (literally measurements)?

An underlying principle of character traits is that they have to be measured. The ba’alei mussar ask why there is no commandment in the Torah that a person should have good “midos”. They explain that there is no such thing as a character trait that is all bad or all good. The challenge is to use the various character traits in the proper measure. Sometimes it is appropriate for a person to have a ‘measure’ of anger, and sometimes a person needs to have a ‘measure’ of haughtiness.

The trouble starts if a character trait gets out of hand. This Gemara is telling us is that Dan had a tremendous sense of Din (justice). However, this trait that the founder of the tribe had in his genes went haywire in the fellow mentioned in tractate Pesachim. He took the ‘measure’ of justice too far. His sense of justice was too strict. There was never compromise. It was always ‘Din’ — “See you in Court!”

Any trait, even the best, if not applied in its proper measure and in its proper context, can go bad.

R’ Frand

Spiritual Arithmetic

This week’s parsha, Vayechi, records the passing of Yaakov Avinu and the berochos that he gave to each child prior to his death. At the beginning of the parsha, we are told that Yaakov lived for 17 years in Egypt and that he was 147 when he died. The commentators point out that at the end of last week’s parsha, Yaakov told Pharaoh that he was 130 years old at the time, therefore we ought to be able to work out for ourselves that 130 + 17= 147. So why did the Torah, in which not one word is wasted, feel the need to fill us in on some elementary arithmetic?

An answer offered is as follows. We know that Yaakov’s life was filled with difficulties- his brother Esav wanted to kill him, his father in law, Lavan, cheated him, his beloved wife Rochel died during child birth, his daughter, Dina, was captured and abused, he was lead to believe that Yosef, his special son had been killed………. In stark contrast to those years, the final 17 of his life, were spent surrounded by his family, enjoying the benefits and security due to his being the father of the prime minister. On reflection, one might have felt it appropriate to say that his life was comprised of 2 very different, unconnected segments, one which contained bad times and in the second section of his life he eventually enjoyed good years. The Torah is coming to tell us that this was not the case- Yaakov lived for a single unit of 147 years- different in nature, but all good. A righteous person who appreciates that this world is merely a station not a destination, and that hardships aren’t “bad” but rather challenges and opportunities for spiritual growth, which if taken advantage of, will earn him a place in the world to come. It’s all good.

R’ Ezer Pine

Days that Count

"Yaakov lived in the land of Egypt for 17 years, and the days of Yaakov, the years of his life, were 147 years" (47:28). The wording of the verse seems a little strange. The Torah is counting the years of Yaakov’s life not the days of his life, so why are his years introduced with the phrase "the days of Yaakov?"

There are two ways to count a person’s life. One is to count the time span from birth until death. The other is to count the days that were productive, the days of accomplishment, the days of growth and enhancing our relationship with Hashem. This is the real life. This is the life that really counts. Days that were spent solely for bodily gratification do not count for much. An animal does the same.

This is the emphasis of the verse. All the days of Yaakov’s life could be counted towards the years of his life, because everyday was utilized properly. (R’ Moshe Shternboch)

Real Nachas

Before Yaakov was about to die, he gave Yosef a berachah. Interestingly, he did not bless him with wealth or wisdom, rather that his children should follow in the ways of his Avraham, Yitzchak and Yaakov – in the ways of Hashem (48:15-16). It would seem from this that the greatest berachah a person can have is that his children go in the ways of Hashem. (R’ Moshe Shternboch)

This is certainly something to contemplate. What gives us more nachas? When our children get good grades in school and have a good job or when they are particular about Torah observance!

Only The Truth

Yehudah merited that the Jewish people would be called by his name – yehudi. He also merited that the kings of the Jewish people would emerge from him as would the mashiach. What did he do to deserve this?

Because he admitted the truth in a very sticky situation (the incident with Tamar) (Targum Yonassan, Baalei Tosfos).

Yehuda could have justified himself to distort the truth for many "valid" reasons – admitting would have been a chillul Hashem (a desecration of Hashem’s name) and he could have saved Tamar’s life in a different way without the need to admit and embarrass himself. But he did not. He remained loyal to the truth, despite the difficulties and unpleasantness that would result. (R’ Simcha Broida)

Yehuda showed that he would not compromise one iota on the truth. This made him the father of the kings and this is the trait of the Jewish people that is connoted by their name. The Jewish people is a nation of truth pursuing the truth because it is the truth.

Miller’s Musings – Parshas Vayigash

בס”דלעילוי נשמת לאה בת אברהם and רפואה שלמהאוריה חיים בן חנה יהודית, שרה נעמה בת רבקה עליזהand יהושע יוסף בן מלכה שרה

This week’s Miller’s Musings is sponsored for the shemira of Menachem Mendel ben Soroh Rochel, Yosef Shlomo ben Tova Malka, Menachem Chaim ben Rut, Leah Yasmin bat Rut and all Chayolei Yisroel

MILLER’S MUSINGS

פרשת ויגש

Doing it for the Kids

Part of the beauty of the Torah is its never-ending opportunities for plumbing greater depths and deriving deeper layers of profundity from its sacred words. There is a basic level of meaning to explain what is actually taking place, but equally valid are the implied, more esoteric, interpretations that our sages have developed from the text to teach us messages for our lives today. As the storyline with Yosef and the brothers reaches its crescendo, Yehuda pleads with Yosef for the life of Binyomin. “How can I go up to my father and the lad is not with me?” The plain meaning is clear. He was trying to call attention to the terrible pain that will be brought upon his father through the loss of his youngest child. But what of a deeper meaning? What message is the Torah giving to us?

A first understanding, offered by the Mishchas Shemen, is that the words “How can I go up to my father” is a rhetorical exclamation referring to the final judgement that we will all endure, when we ascend to our Father in Heaven at the end of our life. The “lad” that is not with us refers to the days of our youth that we have wasted, not devoting the vim and vigour that we had then to those matters that are of true value. They will not be “with me” as they cannot be counted as part of the time that adds to life in the Next World. This idea is relevant to our younger readership, but may be too late for others. We will therefore turn to a second explanation suggested. According to this alternative reading of the verse it is not our youth that we are worried to be without when we face Hashem, but rather the young people that we may have influence over. If we have not done what we need to in order to direct the youth towards Torah and to be connected to Hashem, even if it costs us greatly, then we cannot be said to have them with us and will be held accountable for it. Yehuda’s plea was not one free from risk. He was putting his very existence at stake in the company of a man who held life and death in his hands. So too we must be willing to endure some form of self-sacrifice in order to ensure the next generation are educated correctly and follow the correct path. How can we confront Hashem with such a deficit on our account!

Our generation is perhaps more selfish and unwilling to give up on our comforts than ever before. But even the most callous amongst us understands the need to forego time, sleep and finances for our children. We are prepared to do so when our children our entirely dependent on us, but what about when the necessity is not so clear or demanding and they are not quite as reliant on us? Do we then give up our time and our energy when we could perhaps ignore the need for it? Sacrifice does not only mean deeds as dramatic as putting their lives and safety before our own. Spectacular demonstrations can be the easy ones to make. It is the acts of sacrifice that are small, subtle and almost imperceptible to anyone else, that may make the most profound difference. Towards the end of our day when our strength and patience are spent, do we give the time we should be devoting, to maintain that connection and relationship with those that matter most to us? When we finally have a moment to ourselves are we willing to forego that, when we are needed by those we cherish most greatly? We all say that there is nothing as important as our children. Let’s make sure our actions, however small, demonstrate it as well.

*May Shabbos give us the energy to make the right choices for the next generation.*

If you would like to sponsor a week of Miller’s Musings l’ilui nishmas someone, for a Refuah Sheleima or to celebrate a Simcha please send a message to millersmusingsrabbi or to 07531332970

—
Shimmy Miller
Rebbe/Teacher/Counsellor/Tutor| Manchester Mesivta and Private
07531322970 | rabbimiller.mesivta| http://rabbimillersmusings.blogspot.co.uk/
LinkedIn: https://www.linkedin.com/pub/shimmy-miller/9/934/9a3

Parshas Vayigash

Yosef finally revealed himself to his brothers and he fell upon Binyomin’s neck and cried and Binyomin cried on his neck (45:14). Yosef was crying over the two Temples that were going to be in the portion of Binyomin and would be destroyed, whilst Binyomin was crying over the Tabernacle that was going to be in Yosef’s portion and was also going to be destroyed (Rashi quoting the Sages).

Why was this the time to be crying about these tragedies, especially when the Temple and Tabernacle had not yet come into existence?

The brothers had sold Yosef. They were great people and had strong justification for doing so. Yet, although it is very difficult for us to understand it, to some extent they harbored brotherly hatred. Yosef and Binyomin seeked to counter this. The opposite of sinas chinam (baseless hatred) is ahavas chinam (baseless love). Instead of thinking about myself, I think about the situation of the other person. That is what Yosef and Binyomin were doing – they were crying over the loss and tragedy that awaited their brother. They were conjuring up feelings of ahavas chinam. (R’ Frand)

Wrong Means Means No End

This week’s parsha, Vayigash, opens with the emotionally charged episode in which Yosef reveals his true identity to his brothers. The Torah reports that moments before his earth shattering disclosure, Yosef, who could no longer perform his part of this cleverly contrived drama, sent out all those present in the room so that during the moment of revelation in which the brothers would inevitably suffer immense shame, there should be no one else there to witness it.

The Medrashic teachings comment that Yosef performed this act of immense consideration at great risk to himself. The brothers were so incensed with the behaviour of the Egyptian prime minister that if not for his guarded entourage they would have killed him, and now with no one else in the room, they had their chance!!

The commentators point out that this decision of Yosef was the ultimate high-risk strategy- everything he had hoped for would have been lost had the brothers acted. He yearned to see his father again and furthermore, the whole performance he had staged was in order to fulfill the dreams, which ultimately was to be a stepping-stone towards the creation of the Jewish nation. All of this was at stake- why? So that his brothers should not be more embarrassed!

From Yosef’s behavior, we see a fundamental concept- the end does not justify the means! The potential consequences of what he did didn’t matter- if it’s wrong, it’s wrong!!

Hashem can “worry” about how things will end up, our job is simply to do……………………what is right.

R’ Ezer Pine