Rabbi's Blog

This week’s Dvar Torah is sponsored by Ronnie & Susan Masliansky in memory of Rabbi Bogopulsky and Ronnie Masliansky’s grandmother Esther Rachel bas Nachum Bogopulsky & Ronnie’s grandfather Aharon ben Avraham Yitzchak Masliansky A"H.

Today, Thursday the eleventh day of Shvat, marks sixty-three years since my grandmother passed away. I never met my paternal grandmother and therefore never connected with her in a meaningful way. The two reminders I have of my grandmother are: (1) My sister is named after her, and (2) Since the time my mother passed away, I recited kaddish on the date of my grandmother’s yahrzeit because my father, who was living, couldn’t say it. For many years, my cousin recited kaddish for our grandmother, also someone who he had never known, for several years, but I did not recite kaddish because my parents were both alive. Now that my father has passed away, I no longer carry the responsibility to say kaddish for my grandmother. (The only kaddish obligation is for one’s parents, not for their parents – i.e.my grandparents).. There is a debate as to whether one must honor a grandparent as a parent, and what just would those honors be?

One aspect of honoring a grandparent is drawn from a nuance of the brilliance of Rabbi Akiva Eiger. Rabbi Akiva Eiger (responsa, volume 1, no. 68) makes a fascinating statement concerning the obligation of a grandchild to honor his grandparents. Quoting from the Levias Chen, he writes that the obligation applies only during a parent’s lifetime; if the parent, who links the grandchild to the grandparent, dies during the grandparent’s lifetime, the mitzvah is no longer incumbent upon the grandchild. The distinction drawn by Rabbi Akiva Eiger is based on the teaching of a Gemara in Kiddushin 31a, whereby a son is obligated to heed the instructions of his father over that of his mother, because both he and his mother are obligated to honor his father. Since the mother is also obligated to honor her husband, the honor of the father takes precedence over that of the mother. Based on this reasoning, it is possible that the obligation to honor one’s grandparents is based on the obligation to honor one’s parents: A parent’s obligation to honor his own parents forms an obligation upon him to also honor his grandparents. Of course, according to this rationale, the obligation applies only during the lifetime of the parent. This rationale presents an elegant explanation for why a person is required to honor his father more than his grandfather. The obligation to honor one’s parent is a direct Torah instruction. The honor of one’s grandparent, however, is an indirect obligation, derived from the obligation to honor one’s parent. Accordingly, the direct mitzva is greater than the indirect mitzvah of honoring a parent’s parent. Based on this rationale, there is no room to distinguish between paternal and maternal grandparents; the obligation to honor grandparents  applies to all equally. (Also, it’s interesting to note that Rabbi Akiva Eiger’s rationale is not consistent with Rashi’s citation of the Midrash: Yitzchak was no longer alive at the time Yaakov brought his offerings. Thus, it seems that authorities who cite that Midrash will not concur).

Parents, grandparents, and previous generations are the link to our past. For the Jewish people, it was precisely during these parshios that the family of Klal Yisroel emerged. In this week’s parsha B’Shalach, we read how the Yam Suf split and that we walked across on dry land  witnessing the Egyptians following us and then being drowned as walls of water crashed down. A significant image to consider is the fact that the Jewish people “were in the sea”, totally enveloped and submerged by water as though they were covered by the waters of a mikva, undergoing a purification process. The Jewish people had just left Mitzrayim, emerging from the forty-ninth level of impurity and going through the Yam Suf, the purification moment of their Neshamos. When we immerse in a mikva, we emerge as new, purified. So, too, the Jewish people immersed themselves and came out as new - similar to the birth of a newborn baby emerging from an existence surrounded by fluids. When a baby is born, it enters this world with a clean slate, with a fresh, new and pure beginning of life.  

The following parable written by Dr. Wayne Dyer, entitled “A Conversation in the Womb – A Parable of Life After Delivery”, sums up our physical existence in this world and our spiritual one in the world to come.

In a mother’s womb were two babies. One asked the other: “Do you believe in life after delivery? “The other replied, “Why, of course. There must be something after delivery. Maybe we are here to prepare ourselves for what we will be later.”
“Nonsense” said the first. “There is no life after delivery. What kind of life would that be?”

The second said, “I don’t know, but there will be more light than here. Maybe we will walk with our legs and eat from our mouths. Maybe we will have other senses that we can’t understand now.”

The first replied, “That is absurd. Walking is impossible. And eating with our mouths? Ridiculous! The umbilical cord supplies nutrition and everything we need. But the umbilical cord is so short. Life after delivery is to be logically excluded.”

The second insisted, “Well I think there is something and maybe it’s different than it is here. Maybe we won’t need this physical cord anymore.”

The first replied, “Nonsense. And moreover, if there is life, then why has no one has ever come back from there? Delivery is the end of life, and in the after-delivery there is nothing but darkness and silence and oblivion. It takes us nowhere.”

“Well, I don’t know,” said the second, “but certainly we will meet Mother and she will take care of us.”

The first replied “Mother? You actually believe in Mother? That’s laughable. If Mother exists, then where is She now?”

The second said, “She is all around us. We are surrounded by her. We are of Her. It is in Her that we live. Without Her this world would not and could not exist.”

Said the first: “Well I don’t see Her, so it is only logical that She doesn’t exist.”

To which the second replied, “Sometimes, when you’re in silence and you focus and you really listen, you can perceive Her presence, and you can hear Her loving voice, calling down from above.”

The process of the Jewish people entering and exiting the sea was not limited to  birth/new life into this world of Olam Hazeh; it also served as a portend for the next world. The experience of Yam Suf was to demonstrate how Hashem takes care of us in this world and the next. This is an important lesson as there are many Jews who do not believe in a life after this world and therefore do not take this world with adequate seriousness. With that I will share an incredible piece of creative writing that I believe is one of the best presentations of a world to come.

This week’s Dvar Torah is being sponsored by Rand Levin and Sari Kahn and family in memory of Rand’s father, Aryeh Leib ben Yisrael HaLevi on his Yahrzeit 27 Teves

From time to time, I look back over the quarter century since we started our new life here,  in San Diego. Each of us tends to review periods of our lives from different perspectives, memories, challenges,  the array of activities we’ve enjoyed and the many personalities we’ve encountered over the course of time. I am sure anyone who has lived someplace for an extended period of time grows accustomed to the common, typical  nuances of that location and revels at the rare occurrences as well. This winter in San Diego has brought rainfall to our region that I don’t remember having experienced in all my years here. What, you may ask, brought me to this realization? Did I compare the rainfall statistics over the last number of years? Was my lawn growing faster and greener this year? The answer to those questions is no. I came to this conclusion as I was driving, zig zagging through the streets to avoid newly formed potholes and, in some areas, new rivers of running water. This brought back memories of growing up in New York, seeing thawing mushrooms of potholes throughout the streets of Brooklyn, Queens, pretty much everywhere.

The last day of the Sukkos festival is an independent holiday called Shmini Atzeres. On that day we recite a special Tefilla – Tal - for the upcoming season of rain. The concluding verses are filled with the repetitive plea: גשמי ברכה ולא לקללה  - ‘Rain should be a blessing and not a curse’. Rain brings much that’s good, especially for a state which has continuously had to deal with severe drought. But rain also brings mudslides, erosion, and a slew of potholes. It was recently reported by Mario Escalera, a member of San Diego’s pothole repair crew: “They are everywhere right now.” He said he always knows his work will pile up when the rain clouds head to town. Despite the years of rarity of this event, for Escalera, rain clouds mean big potholes A spokesperson for the City of San Diego stated that San Diego had more than 15,000 reports of potholes in 2022. “We try to go for at least 30 potholes a day,”. He laughed when asked if rainstorms meant “job security.” “It’s good for us, but sad for the citizens of this city,” he shrugged. When asked about the job, Escalera stated that other drivers had been at constant risk of losing their jobs throughout these past years of drought. However, throughout 2022, potholes remained on the growing ‘to do’ list, part of San Diego’s ‘Get It Done’ app. The City of San Diego said it took crews an average of nine days to patch each pothole in 2022. That was a vast improvement from 2021, when crews averaged 19 days to close a complaint. I’m amazed but not surprised at how many potholes there are and how long it takes to fix them.

Perhaps not everyone reading this will hit a pothole or even know what it is. So, for clarity, potholes are typically small, but on occasion can quickly become rather large bowl-shaped depressions in a paved surface. In other words, they can be quite dangerous. They tend to have sharp edges with vertical sides at the top of the hole. These hazardous depressions are most caused by water seeping into cracks throughout the surface of a road.  These cracks, combined with the vibration of tires running over them, cause the asphalt to collapse.  The City of San Diego repairs more than 30,000 potholes per year using materials such as a hot patch compound and bagged asphalt. And that’s during years of drought.  This latest series of rare storms will make this previous number of potholes seem minimal.

It’s expected that things will erode and breakdown over time. When a natural disaster hits, however, massive damage and destruction can occur without warning in minutes if not seconds. We have all read about, watched, or witnessed countless natural disasters here and abroad. Nevertheless, the ten makkos/plagues which devastated Egypt were basically a onetime occurrence (although some of the plagues occurred again at other points in history). The plague that reminds me of the ‘pothole’ issue occurred with the seventh plague, ‘barad’/hail, which is the last of the plagues listed this week.

In this week’s Parshas Vaeira the Torah states in Shmos 9:22 "ויאמר ה' אל משה נטה את ידך על השמים ויהי ברד בכל ארץ מצרים, על האדם ועל הבהמה ועל כל עשב השדה בארץ מצרים" “ “’God,’ said to Moshe, ‘Stretch out your hand toward the sky, and there will be hail throughout all Egypt. [It will fall] on man and beast, and on all outdoor plants all over Egypt”. The Midrash Madregas HaAdom explains that the plague began as mere rain because Hashem hoped  the Egyptians would still stop and repent from their evil ways. Eventually, the rain was converted into a storm. Thunder crashed, lightning struck, and the earth quaked. Then huge hailstones, composed of blocks of ice and of fire, rained down from Heaven.  The fire did not consume the ice, nor did the ice extinguish the fire. The loud crashing of falling hailstones rocked the land. Midrash Lekach Tov describes how the hail broke entire trees and destroyed the crops even down to the deepest roots in the ground, breaking up the ground and its surface. (Sound familiar?) The Midrash Rabbah 12:3 relates the plagues were a clear sign of retribution - measure for measure. The Jews had to plant all of the trees and crops and could not go home; As a result, the plants and the ground were destroyed by the hail. The Abarbanel, Shmos 7:14, writes that the Egyptians beat the Jews, so the hail beat the Egyptians, literally down to the ground.

In conclusion, the Malbim explains the hail phenomena both scientifically and miraculously. During the natural course of a storm, one sees lightning and then hears thunder even though they are, in actuality, occurring at the same time. The reason we hear a pause is because the sense of sight (light) travels more quickly than our  sense of hearing (sound). In the case of the Makkos, the opposite took effect; the verse states that the sound of the thunder was then followed by seeing the lightning, demonstrating the occurrence of a miracle within a miracle- something that was beyond nature.

The takeaway is all about what we do and how we handle a Bracha/Blessing such as rain. If we use the blessings of Hashem properly, they will continue to flourish, building upon what we already have. Unfortunately, if we do not use each Bracha properly, serving Hashem in a better, more effective, meaningful manner, then all we will end up with will be potholes, attempting to patch up our lives instead of seeing the true potential of what the rain has to offer.

Ah Gutten Shabbos

Rabbi Avraham Bogopulsky

Is New Year's a religious day? According to some theologians, as applies to December 31st, New Year's Day is a Catholic feast day. It was long known as the Feast of the Circumcision and the Octave of the Nativity (that's just a fancy way of saying that it was the eighth day after Yashka's birth and, thus, the day he was circumcised in accordance with Jewish tradition.)

January 1^st, the marking of a new year is not only a religious day for some, but its significance is connected to the entire world. Despite the association of it being a Christian day, religions throughout the world view January 1st as a non-denominational day celebrating the changing of the calendar year. As I mentioned in previous articles, the new year is notorious for making New Year’s resolutions,  firm decisions to do or not to do something for the sake of self-improvement or to make life easier. Perhaps we might compare a resolution to the Jewish concept of a ‘neder’ which is a vow. Is there a difference between the two? Well, as nouns, the difference between a vow and a resolution is that avow is a solemn promise to perform some act, or to behave in a specified manner, especially concerning a promise to live and act in accordance with the rules of a religious order. A resolution is a strong will, a determination. As a verb, a vow is to make a promise.

This past Monday, January 2^nd, I was chatting with someone and mentioned that I had started exercising again, and that I’ve now been working out for three consecutive days – a chazaka -  something I had not done in over a year! He quickly responded,   “Oh, is that one of your New Year’s resolutions?” I responded,   “Well…yes and no. It was both a resolution and a vow.” He then asked me what I meant. I explained that “It was a resolution in 2022 that I would exercise that year.  I treated it as a vow because I only started working out the very last day of the year.  I intentionally avoided my ‘word’ to be desecrated. I was concerned that my declaration in the beginning of 2022, proclaiming I would begin to exercise again, would almost go afoul. In essence, I was trying to fulfill at least part of my commitment by finally fulfilling my intent to exercise, even though it was at the last possible day, leading immediately into the current 2023 year.  Hence, the three days were really the last day of last year and the first two days of this year. This was particularly poignant and concerning since we are currently studying Meseches Nedarim/Vows in the Daf Yomi cycle, providing me with a heightened awareness of fulfilling any statements I may have made during the year.  Nedarim- vows, commitments, and resolutions - must be taken seriously. In Jewish law, the parameters of both vows and oaths carry tremendous repercussions. In reviewing meseches Nedarim up until page 74 (out of 91 pages), I have not seen even one of the many components that appears in an interesting well-known story in the Torah.

The Torah states in Bereishis 45:24 וישלח את אחיו וילכו  “He sent off his brothers and they went on their way.” All Yosef’s brothers, Reuven, Shimon, and the rest, including Binyamin, were sent back to Canaan and to Yaakov so that Yehudah was able to keep his promise to his father. Yehuda, earlier in 43:9 stated: “I, myself, will be responsible for him. You can demand him from my own hand. If I do not bring him back and have him stand here before you, I will have sinned for all time.” We see Yehuda did fulfil his pledge to his father. If so, why then did the Chachamim, in the Gemarah Sotah 7b, say that Yehudah was punished for his guarantee (to bring Binyamin back) in so much that the bones in his coffin rattled the entire 40 years the Jewish people wandered through the desert? Rabbeinu Bachya explains the reason is because Yehudah’s vow and its fulfilment depended upon the goodwill of others. It is sinful to make such promises or vows unless the factors relating to fulfilment of the promise are all entirely under the control of the person making the promise. Yehudah had known from the outset that it would depend on the ruler of Egypt as to whether he could make good on his guarantee. The Chachamim, the sages in Gemara Makkot 11b, used this incident to formulate a halakha concerning conditional excommunication, saying that the threat of excommunication, even if conditional, requires a retroactive annulment even if, in the meantime, the party who had been threatened with such excommunication had fulfilled the conditions imposed upon him. This explains why Yehudah qualified for punishment for having guaranteed Binyamin’s safe return, despite fulfilling it.

In this week’s Parsha Veyechi, the Torah’s opening words are ויחי יעקב   - and Yaakov lived. Several commentaries explain this to mean Yaakov did not die but lived on forever. Surely, we can say he lived in this world and in the next. We, too, have an obligation to ensure our physical survival in this world and our spiritual eternal life in the next. Although our time on this earth is determined from the One above, we nevertheless must take care of the vessel we were given  always to the best of our ability. In other words, we need to be as healthy as possible by eating right, exercising regularly, and using good judgment on issues that affect our physical health and wellbeing. No less, and perhaps more importantly, are our spiritual arrangements which we need for the next world.

This week’s Shabbos Parshas Vayechi is dedicated to the awareness of ensuring a smooth transition from this world to the next when our time comes. Every year NASCK, the National Association of Chevra Kadisha, focuses on an area of Jewish importance in the here and in the after world. This year’s focus is the horrific scourge of cremation that is pervading Jewish communities throughout the United States. A zoom class has been advertised to bring this important and critical discussion forward, with the hope that perhaps any one of us can take an active part to prevent such a tragedy within the Jewish people. In addition, it is important to follow up on past discussions of estate planning, halachik wills, and end-of-life situations.  When I bring up these sensitive topics, people typically say, ”Yeh, we have to do this,” and then time goes by, and the ‘this’ gets swept under the rug for a little longer. Perhaps Parshas Vayechi usually occurs during the new secular year in order to remind us of our mortality in this world and to help us grow more deeply aware of the constant need to provide for our immortality in the world to come. Let us commit, Bli neder/without it being a vow, stating that we will take care of ourselves while living in this world, and take proper steps to also live in the next.

Ah Gutten Shabbos

Rabbi Avraham Bogopulsky

Ever wonder just what makes the most used hand tool? While a tape measure might not be the first tool to come to mind when making a list of hand tools, it is one of the most used items. When I was growing up we just had a few basic tools in the house;  when I got married and feeling manly, I also made sure to have the same basic tools in my arsenal. There are six basic tools that one needs, including a hammer, screwdriver, pliers, wrench, measuring tape, and perhaps the most important, the toolbox! Without a proper toolbox one can never remember where  the screwdriver or other stuff had been left. Today, just like many other instruments and devices used during our lifetime, we have exponentially increased the number of basic tools, primarily thanks to the available variety of each one of the basic tools. For example, there are no less than fourteen different kinds of screwdrivers, forty-two different kinds of wrenches, thirty-two different types of hammers, and  so forth. As a result, not only do I need a toolbox; I need a tool shed!

I do not claim to be “Mr. Handyman”, but I do pride myself on trying to fix small, uncomplex things that pop up around the house and car. There are times when I amaze my wife that I fixed the broken item. But there are always the other times when I disappoint myself, learning that this is one something I just could not repair.   One of my theories of life is that any average person has the intellectual capacity and the physical ability to perform and do almost everything in life within reason. The day-to-day tasks where we simply call someone to repair or help us with are usually driven by a lack of time, money, or basic laziness to just get around to fixing it on our own.  Over time, one comes to the realization that half the battle is having the correct tools for each job. Even a simple, basic item -  a ladder -made all the difference for me this week.  I needed to switch out an LED four pin prong lightbulb from a can fixture. In previous attempts, I stood on a chair, stretched my body to the maximum but was still unable to get a good grip, leading me to crack the bulb in my hand. This week I used a six-foot ladder, bringing me up to easy reach and switched it out in a few seconds. Another example is fixing a flat tire. Instead of changing the tire with the “sufganiya”, I bought an inflator that plugs into the cigarette lighter outlet in the car (the actual lighter piece is no longer provided in cars). To make a long story short, four days later I brought my car to my mechanic to patch my tire and I am back on the rocky roads of San Diego once again. Therefore, the basic recipe for fixing things requires two main ingredients: a good YouTube video that provides the know-how and knowledge, and an assortment of proper tools which offers the ease and skill to successfully complete the job.

An essential part of parenting children, employee training, and overall life experiences requires the necessary tools to succeed.  Too often, a person fails for either one or two reasons, neither of which is related to any lack of knowledge or intelligence. The first regards the shortage of tools needed to tackle the issues in life. The second could often be the misuse of these tools primarily due to not knowing how to use them properly. A supporting issue of equal importance is that these tools are used not only to build; they’re also used to take apart. For the Jewish people the Torah is the handbook of life that offers  the necessary tools through the study of halacha, history, mussar, and other important life strategies. It is through learning how to use the tools of the Torah that we are able to navigate life and fix the problems and challenges that come with the journey. The Torah teaches us how to build the positive and remove the negative. We see this concept in a unique combination of the portion of the week and Chanukah.

In this week’s Parshas Mikeitz, the Torah states in Bereishis 41:51-52 "ויקרא יוסף את שם הבכור מנשה כי נשני אלוקים וכו'...ואת שם השני קרא אפרים" - “Yosef named the first-born Menashe ‘because God has made me forget all my troubles -and even my father’s house’. He named his second son Ephraim ‘because God has made me fruitful in the land of my suffering’. Rav Dov Zev Weinberger z”l, in his sefer Shemen HaTov, explains that Yosef called his first son by the name Menashe, hinting to the removal of his dark past and only afterwards to give thanks to Hashem for the present and future. When Yosef’s father Yakov named the tribes, we don’t find two reasons given on the naming of someone other than Yosef. These reasons “that Hashem has gathered my shame” and “add to me another son” are reflected in the past (Menashe) and the future (Ephraim), reflecting  and representing two hidden strengths in Yosef which ultimately are divided when Yakov blesses ‘Yosef’ through his two children. The most simple and obvious understanding of these names in the order of the names is סור מרע (מנשה)  and afterwards עשה טוב (אפרים)  :‘turn away from evil (Menashe) and perform good (Ephraim). This would later come to play in the difference of opinion between Yosef and his father Yakov (Jacob) at the giving of the brachos to Ephraim and Menashe. How did Jacob bless Ephraim and Menashe? Menashe, the older son, was placed at the right hand of Yaakov in order to receive the customarily  better blessing as the older son. Ephraim, the younger son, was placed on Yaakov's left. But instead of blessing Ephraim with his left hand and Menashe with his right hand, Yaakov crossed his arms, thereby giving Ephraim the better blessing. Yosef wanted to remove the bad first and then have the good, while Yaakov felt it was necessary to bring in the good, even though he, as of yet, had not removed the bad.

This is, in essence, the debate, or machlokes, between Beis Hillel and Beis Shammai regarding how to light the Chanukiah. In every flame there are two powers - one to burn and the other to give light. One power is the burning and get rid of the bad while the other is to give light, showing the good. This insight applies to the Chashmonaim’s victory over the Assyrian Greeks: first to remove the Tumah/impurity from the Beis Hamikdash, and then immediately kindling a new, fresh, pure light.

The debate regarding opinions of Beis Shammai to light from the eighth light down to one light, lies in his opinion that the fire of the eight lights is stronger, therefore working  first to remove the evil and bad. The House of  Beis Hillel, on the other hand, argues that the primary function is to brighten the world and bring goodness all around. Therefore, we need to start with one candle on the first day, adding more light each day with an additional candle in order to bring more light and good into the world

The word Torah means light. Through the learning of Torah may we be blessed with correct use of the tools, the light we’ve been given, to remove the bad while simultaneously bringing light, building up the world with good, using the same tools today in the manner accomplished by our ancestors over  over two thousand years ago!

Ah Gutten Shabbos & Ah Lichtiga Chanukah

Rabbi Avraham Bogopulsky

When things we are not sure about don’t work out, we are not particularly fazed about the negative outcome, especially when compared to the disappointment we feel when things we are sure about don’t work out! For example, if someone drives an older car, it may require more maintenance and may be susceptible to breaking down. In that scenario, if it does break down, we are not surprised. But if someone was to drive a brand-new car straight off the showroom floor, the likelihood of it breaking down is slim. If by chance does break down, we would be completely devastated, probably go into a state of shock, and then go nuts. Up until a few years ago I found myself in the first case scenario, and therefore, for many years I had a membership with the AAA, the American Automobile Association. I primarily carried this membership for its roadside assistance benefits. So, when we upgraded to newer vehicles, I no longer felt the need to maintain AAA membership. Fortunately - and unfortunately - even new things grow old, despite the fact that we may keep on thinking that they are still new. Take me, for example. I still think I am twenty-five years old! Fortunately, I am getting older, but unfortunately, as the mileage climbs so does the required maintenance.

A few weeks ago, my wife mentioned that her still brand new 2015 Honda CRV was making some noises and was stuttering after a stop and go. I didn’t think much of this, reasoning to myself that my wife would be traveling shortly, so that would be a good time to have her car checked out. No sooner than that decision was made, I received that dreaded, panic-stricken phone call,  “The car isn’t moving and I’m in the middle of the road!” Luckily, the car had made it off the 8-freeway, going south, but broke down on College Avenue approaching the walking overpass during rush hour. I jumped into my car and sped to the scene, switched cars, letting my wife go home while I dealt with the helpless vehicle. I tried to get it going but quickly realized I need help and called for a tow truck, not AAA. The company said they were sending someone, but it would take about forty-five minutes to an hour for them to get there. In the meantime, I was out directing the oncoming traffic to merge into one lane. Let me tell you, some people know how to drive while others do not. As car after car whizzed by, I was pleasantly surprised that not only one, but three cars slowed down to ask if I needed help (in addition to one phone call asking if I needed any assistance). This experience gave me a renewed sense of faith in humanity, seeing that some people actually cared for someone else, for a total stranger, putting an urgent situation ahead of their own need to get to class or to a meeting, or arrive home in time for dinner.  The challenge to choose to help someone in need or to just ignore the person is not new to the world. We find this replete throughout history. Reviewing the events in my mind, I saw myself “alone” as the cars whizzed by, wondering what they were thinking as they sped past our stalled car. Did they think I was driving some kind of vehicle which I expected would break down or that they felt surprised that someone on the road got stuck and was in their way? The concept of being alone while facing an uncertain challenge is quite common in the Torah; we don’t always know who the enemy is or how to process even what it is. Let’s examine this more carefully…

In this week’s Parshas Vayishlach the Torah states in Bereishis 32:25 "ויותר יעקב לבדו, ויאבק איש עמו עד עלות השחר"  “Yakov remained alone, and a stranger appeared and wrestled with him until just before daybreak”. The Gemara Chullin 91a relates this explanation given by Rebi Shmuel bar Nachmeini: …the man he [Yakov] wrestled with appeared to him as an idolater and Rav Shmuel ber Acha in the name of Rava bar Ulla explains that the man [angel] appeared to him as a Talmid Chacham, a Torah scholar. It was explained in the name of Rabbi Avraham Borenstein, the Sochatchover Rebbe and author of Avnei Nezer (1838-1910), that there are two categories of the Yetzer Hora (evil inclination). There is one kind of evil inclination that simply seduces the man to sin, even though the person clearly knows that it is forbidden to do so. Nevertheless, the Yetzer Hora attempts and often succeeds. This is the appearance of the Sar Shel Eisav, in this opinion, who appeared as an idolater. At this moment, the Yetzer Hora just says to be like an Oved Kochavim, a sinner who just does not care. On the other side, is the Yetzer Hora who dresses up, disguised   as a Talmid Chachom - a Tzadik and Torah scholar. As such, the evil inclination dupes the man, yelling and rebuking him by saying that not only is it not a sin; it is a Mitzva! That yetzer hora, that evil inclination, affects the person to believe he is a tzadik and consequently will follow the yetzer hora, committing the sin. Just as his father and grandfather, Yakov had the ability to see through both disguises and remain steadfast in his single devotion to Hashem. The gid hanasheh, the sciatica nerve and part of the animal’s thigh that is forbidden for Jews to eat, is the reminder that we, the children of Yakov, remain devoted to Hashem despite the efforts of an Eisav coming to us in different forms to wedge something between us and Hashem.

The merit for Yaakov to remain “L’Vado”- by himself - was a portend for the Jewish people: Am Yisrael must be an “Am L’vadod”- a nation which stands alone! This has stood for us and our forefathers, even as the dust of society kicks up all around us with the ministers and subjects of Eisav. With this merit of our strong belief and security in Hashem, may we be permitted to see into the future and experience the “Also HasShachar”- the Days of Dawn - the Geula Shelaima, the complete redemption. At that time, even the remnants of Eisav will be forced against their will to say ‘Amen’ to the blessings of Yaakov.          

Ah Gutten Shabbos

Rabbi Avraham Bogopulsky

Throughout Tanac”h there are stories and events which, at first glance, appear as if some righteous person had made a mistake. The average person who cannot research the commentaries for explanations of the events will not be able to arrive at the truth.

I’ve often pondered if life is strictly black and white or is gray a part of that analysis? Surely, there are situations in life that appear clearly black and we unknowingly call it wrong, while there are other times when something appears completely white and we naively call it correct, but is that true? I came across a business ethics article that addressed the idea of right and wrong through the lens of morality. Here is a brief quote from the article. “You may never have thought about why you think some actions are good and others are bad, but I’m sure that hasn’t stopped you from knowing the difference when you see it, so how do you determine whether an action is right or wrong; good, or bad? I suspect you have some sort of system for deciding. Everyone does. Maybe it’s a set of rules, maybe it’s a gut feeling, maybe something else.” If we think that differentiating “right and wrong” is strictly a moral discussion, we must ask ourselves where we get beliefs about morality. In other words, where do you believe morality comes from? Does morality come from culture, religion, feelings, pain/pleasure, personal interests, rationality, civil rights, relationships, or character? As a God-fearing, believing Jew, each of us appreciates that morality is a concept which comes from Hashem and is part and parcel with the Torah. The Torah does not take the list I mentioned earlier as a legitimate source regarding  from where morality and ethics stem.  As an example, some societies view “shechita”, ritual Jewish slaughter, as cruelty to animals. Yet, the Torah, given by God, decides what is and what is not cruelty to animals, known as Tzaar Baalei Chaim. If we believe that God is All-knowing, then who are we to say that something in the Torah is not what it is supposed to be? It must be that it is we who do not understand the definitions of what cruelty is and when it does or does not apply. Nevertheless, there are glaring parts of the Torah that need explanation. One of the issues that tops the list is when the first-born rights changed hands.

 There are two ways of looking at this scene; did Yaakov buy the birthright from Eisav, or did Eisav sell the birthright to Yaakov? One may say that it’s just semantics; obviously in any transaction one person sells and the other person buys. Even so, many commentators ask why Eisav did not come up with the “price” and the “item” to be sold; rather it was Yaakov who suggested that Eisav should sell the birthright specifically for a bowl of lentil soup. How could Yaakov even float let alone suggest such an exchange? Yaakov is considered to be the epitome of Emes/truth. How can he act in guile to obtain the Bechora? Rav Yosef Dov Soloveitchik,* in his work The Beis HaLevi, gives us insight into both Yaakov and Eisav and why this exchange was carried out in a completely ethical and moral fashion.    

In this week’s Parshas Toldos, the Torah states in Bereishis 25:31 "ויאמר יעקב, מכרה כיום את בכורתך לי"  - “And Yaakov said, first sell me your birthright”. The Beis HaLevi explains that the intention of Yaakov was clearly not to purchase the birthright so that he could gain monetarily by receiving a double portion. This event occurred before the Torah was given; who would have known that the Bechora entitles someone to a double portion? At that time the Bechora was just a title that received a modicum of honor from being the first born of the father, as we find earlier when Hashem said to Avraham in Bereishis 21:12 כי ביצחק יקרא לך זרע"  -“It is through Isaac that you will gain posterity”. The Rabbis define the word ביצחק  , B’Yitzchok, as meaning only a part of Yitzchok and not the entire Yitzchok. It would only apply to the part that holds onto his father’s ways, making it befitting to be called his son. Since on the day of the sale, Eisav behaved repulsively, Eisav had no connection to the first-born title. His action didn’t warrant the title of being a first born, a title which revealed close   association to his father. How could a child be referred to as the first born when he couldn’t even be called a son? Eisav’s only goal was to make sure Yaakov did not have that title; he personally could care less about the title. Therefore, Yaakov asked that the Birthright be sold to him, especially because at this point Yaakov had much to gain while Eisav had nothing to lose. This is exactly how Eisav responded to Yaakov: ולמה זה לי בכורה  - ”What good is a birthright to me?” In essence, the birthright had no intrinsic meaning to Eisav because he had no desire or intention of living in the ways of his father, Yitzchok.

A proof regarding how reference to ‘first born’ and ‘son’ are connected is taken from Shmos 4:22 when Hashem declares the greatness of the Jewish people by referring to them as בני בכורי ישראל  -Israel is ‘My son, My firstborn’. We deduce that the word son is included in the word BChori. Therefore, the verse comes to teach us that a Jew has two attributes. First, we are considered the son, and second, we are also the first born.  In this case there is no gray, it is all black and white and both Yaakov and Eisav acted in their own best interests.

Ah Gutten Shabbos

Rabbi Avraham Bogopulsky

* Yosef Dov Soloveitchik (born 1820 in Minsk when it was part of the Russian Empire; He died May 1, 1892, in Brest-Litovsk, Grodno. He was the author of Beis Halevi, by which name he is better known among Talmudic scholars. He was the great-grandson of Chaim Volozhin.

Yosef Dov Soloveitchik was born to Rivka, a granddaughter of Chaim Volozhin, whose father was Yitschok Ze'ev, descendant of Simcha Rappaport.

In his youth, Soloveitchik lived in Brod. One anecdote illustrates his early mastery of rabbinic learning. Shlomo Kluger the Rabbi of Brod, enjoyed engaging in Talmud studies with him. When Soloveitchik was about to leave Brod, Kluger is reputed to have said to him, “You have always resolved my kushyos (difficult Talmudic questions). But I have one difficulty you cannot resolve. How will I manage to part from you?”

I have often wondered if the supply and demand equation applies to every scenario in the world. Whether it is food, housing, education, virtually anything, there is a vitally important measure of supply and demand required to see success or failure. In general, when it comes to food necessary to stave off starvation, there is an ample supply to meet the needs of the hungry. While this statement is based upon a global viewpoint, we must also calculate how to get that food supply delivered to the locations where starving people can be fed. When it comes to housing, the major indicators that factor into the supply and demand are price and interest rates. Finally, my third example focuses on the growing demand for dedicated, highly qualified teachers.  This is a demand where the supply is just not there. Across this country, in both the Jewish and secular world of education, there is a strong need for more and better qualified teachers in order to meet the growing needs of our children.

Recently, another example of the supply/demand issue came to mind. I think this example is more central to the Jewish family and perhaps more specific to the Orthodox Jewish community worldwide. Anytime we discuss a supply/demand issue when it comes to necessities, the issue of discussion and need carries much more weight than, for example, the supply and demand for cars. If there is a shortage of new cars, we can hold on to our old cars for a while, take taxis, Ubers, or or public transportation. This might not be so terrible; it could force us to talk to our spouse and children a little more instead of focusing on driving. But when it comes to educating our children or giving tzedakah/charity, there is no leeway. Those needs must be met. I found it fascinating and disheartening to see how much need exists within the Orthodox Jewish world. Perhaps it is through the creation of social media and instant communication that our eyes have been opened to the countless numbers of organizations, educational institutions, and individual needs there are. We see this daily through the number of requests that come to us via our phones, computers, and the good old mail system.

Online campaigns are popping up daily.  Numerous chessed platforms have been created. A small sampling of such platforms for giving include Charidy campaigns, TheChessedFund, Go Fund Me, GiveCampus, Fundly, GiveButter, Donorbox, Kickstarter, Crowdfunder, Indiegogo, Facebook Fundraising, PayPal, EdCo, 360MatchPro, Bonfire, Kiva, the list continues to grow. On the flip side, I am encouraged by the outpouring of support to which Jews across the globe willingly contribute, even if it is only a few dollars. It is truly amazing to take note of how these things are born  and quickly snowball into something so beneficial to those in need. Rabbi Wein often remarked that there is enough Jewish money available worldwide to keep every Jewish organization from operating in the red. I will take that statement and run with it and openly state there is enough Jewish money that if everyone gave their respected portion, we could wipe out all of the needs from every Jewish organization and household. This reality hit me when I read a posting in my Yeshiva Shaarei Torah Alumni WhatsApp group regarding an individual in need. Keep in mind, the Yeshiva has been in existence for almost fifty years. A posting of financial assistance was sent by a friend of an alumnus (who was at the time of the posting in the first years of the high school and is not on this chat).  He shared a letter written by a a quadriplegic who was trying to raise needed funds so he could  have a better quality of life. While the numbers are not important, within a few hours of the posting, the monies were raised from guys who never saw or spoke to this man, let alone previously knew of his existence and situation. I was so uplifted to realize the supply quickly came in to fill the demand. This is a concept that comes from the Chessed of our forefather Avraham Avinu whose kindness is detailed throughout the parshiot we read during these weeks.

In this week’s Parshas Vayera the Torah relates several instances of Avraham’s Chessed/kindness. Dovid Hamelech, in Tehilim 89:3 עולם חסד יבנה , stated that the world is created through kindness.  Bereishis Rabbah 8:5 states that the creation of Adam HaRishon was in the merit of God’s Chessed. Rav Yoel Schwartz, in his work Davar B’Ito, writes from this source that we see the root and very foundation of the existence of mankind is predicated on acts of Chessed. The acts of kindness that Avraham performed with complete self-sacrifice became the foundational platform of merits for the Jewish people in the future. The Midrash describes in the merit that Avraham ran three times: 18:2 "וישא עיניו וירא והנה שלשה אנשים עליו, וירא וירץ לקראתם מפתח האהל וישתחו ארצה"   “Avraham lifted his eyes and saw three strangers standing a short distance from him. When he saw them from the entrance of his tent, he ran out to greet them, bowing down to the ground.” 18:7 the Torah states "ואל הבקר רץ אברהם, ויקח בן בקר רך וטוב ויתן אל הנער וימהר לעשות אתו"  “Avraham ran to the cattle, and chose a tender, choice calf. He gave it to a young man who rushed to prepare it. For this Hashem said, “I [God] will run in front of his children to give them the Torah.

The Gemara in Bava Metzia 86b describes that so too, in the merit that Avraham gave milk and butter to the guests, his [Avraham’s] children merited to have the manna from heaven for forty years in the desert. In the merit that Avraham “stood over them [the angels/guests], the Jewish people merited to have the clouds of glory stand for the Jews traveling in the desert. In the merit that Avraham said to his guests, “Let some water be brought and wash your feet,” Avraham’s children merited the well in the desert to have water to drink. We see from Avraham’s actions how important it is for a person to be concerned with the welfare and well-being of others. The Gemara Taanis 13 teaches that anyone who separates him/herself from the community during its time of need will bear a great punishment. Therefore, we see the opposite is true when someone comes forward to extend help, the reward will be great.

Yes, it is true that many tragedies have befallen large numbers of people and many difficulties are occurring and deepening in our Jewish communities. There is great need, but I am confident that great blessing will come to Klal Yisrael for the resounding, ongoing efforts of collectively helping out Acheinu Kal Beis Yisrael. Let us all take active part in addressing and managing the needs and the essentials of every Jew we come across.

Ah Gutten Shabbos

Rabbi Avraham Bogopulsky

Raising a Community, a Family and Ourselves along with Developing a Torah Personality can be purchased from me directly or by clicking here via my author page at Mosaica Press.

This Dvar Torah is in memory of Yehoshua Heshel Ben Yehuda Leib z”l

Over the Yom Tov of Sukkos, we read the book of Koheles where Shlomo HaMelech writes        "דור הולך ודור בא" “a generation goes and a new generation comes”. With the passing of my father, Reb Yehoshua Heshel ben Yehuda Leib, Mr. Edward Bogopulsky z”l, a link to the previous generations has been severed. The following is not a “Chiddush”, something novel; rather it will hopefully remind us all, creating  a deeper awareness of what happens to everyone over time. I am connected to my grandfather, someone who was born in the 1800’s, through my father. When my grandfather died, the connection to that world was severed. Now, the historical connection that my children and grandchildren, who loved and knew my father, born in 1930, has been severed. My grandchildren will have a new historical perspective from the 1960’s. It takes the passing of someone who may have been a great grandfather, to more profoundly enable us to look back at the wisdom and sacrifice of the previous generation. Unfortunately, wisdom from the older generation is not only not passed down; but it can be outrightly ignored and even, at times, shunned. People are meant to learn from the past, yet too often fail to  see the benefit to them. Therefore…..  

The phrase “history repeats itself” and therefore what we learn from history is a lesson meant for the young. Unfortunately, however, that is rarely the case. It takes maturity to recognize the need to learn from our past, and usually a younger person looks at that part of history as irrelevant to the present, disregarding the lessons to be learned. Please take note that the “younger person” does not necessarily come with a certain age; rather, it is just a “younger person” who should take the time (and make the effort) to learn from the older generation at all ages and stages of life. Sometimes a person, as he or she ages, comes to understand and appreciate the lessons, teachings, and messages that their parents and grandparents endeavored to imbue within them. In many cases, lessons of life are taught with words, but perhaps the best teaching is through being a role model. My father, הרני כפרת משכבו and mother זכרונה לברכה taught more by action rather than by speech. My wife, our children, and I learned lifelong lessons from my parents. With the passing of my father, I feel that one of the most important mitzvos and certainly one of the two mitzvos the Torah states - its reward, as in כיבוד אב ואם ,no longer apply. That may be the case in other religions, but in Judaism the Mitzva of honoring your mother and father continues to be your mitzva until you are no longer able to  do it. My father was niftar on the day we completed the Torah and started again from the beginning. The book of Bereishis is also known in the English as Genesis. The word Genesis is a translation from a different name of the first book of the Torah known as Sefer HaAvos, the Book of our Fathers. It is a sefer which focuses on the teachings of our forefathers.    

The book of Bereishis or Sefer HaAvos, the Book of Our Fathers, describes the building of families after the world came into existence. In a few different places in Bereishis, the Torah goes out of its way to list several genealogical generations. The word Toldos – generations - is frequently used throughout the first book of the Torah. The beginning of this week’s Parsha uses the word ‘Toldos’. The Torah in Bereishis 6:9 states: "אלה תולדות נח, נח איש צדיק תמים היה בדרתיו את האלוקים התהלך נח"  “These are the chronicles of Noach. Noach was a righteous man, faultless in his generation, and Noach walked with God.” Rashi comments, ”Since it [scripture] mentions him [Noach], it relates his praise, as it is said in Mishlei 10:7 זכר צדיק :לברכה  the memory of the righteous shall be for a blessing. We learn from here that when a Tzadik’s name is mentioned, we must bless him. So too, when a person mentions his or her parents after they die, one must honor them. Within the first twelve months we say הריני כפרת משכבו  -I will be an atonement for them, and after twelve months we say זכרונו/ה לברכה : their memory should be a blessing.

I mentioned earlier that there are two mitzvos  where the reward is revealed in the Torah: honoring your mother and father and Shiluach HaKein - sending away the mother bird. Many ask, why is the reward for honoring your parents’ a long life? I saw in one of my favorite seforim on the laws of Kibbud Av VaEim, written by a great talmid Chacham Rav Zvi Aryeh Solomon, the following footnote (Siman 3 page 29) that perhaps sheds some light on my question. He explains  it is worthy to point out the mitzva of honoring your father and mother is unique among all 613 mitzvos in that not only can you, but you must honor your parents when they are alive and even after they pass away. Even when our parents go to their world, we cannot think we are finished with this mitzva. We honor them by leading exemplary lives, learning Torah, fulfilling mitzvos, or, heaven forbid, disgrace them by not doing those things mentioned. When people look at us for good or for bad, this serves as a reflection upon from whom we have come.  Therefore, we still must maintain giving our parents honor, albeit in a different way then when they were alive, but nevertheless the mitzva of honoring our parents continues on. Perhaps I’ll suggest that so long as we perform the mitzva of honoring our parents, Hashem will give us more time in this world to continue to honor our parents, hence giving us longer life.

Just remembering our parents, however, is the safeguarding, or passive method, but the proactive is “to do something” in their memory. If we act in a positive manner, that will influence others to follow the ways of the Torah and become more committed Jews. This is the greatest honor we can give a parent, especially after they have passed on to the next world. The influencing and teaching of Torah and giving proper derech eretz to others is important. Perhaps the most effective and highest form of honor to our parents is when the continuity of Torah and Mitzvos continues on through the generations and future generations who issue from them. I and my extended family hope to fulfill the mitzva of Kibbud Av VaEim, to honor our parents, their grandparents and great grandparents and continue down the line until the time of Techiyas HaMeisim ,when we will once again fulfill the Mitzva in person during their lifetime.        

This Dvar Torah is in honor of Fred & Elaine Lepow upon making Aliyah, Mazal Tov!

There is a custom to perform “Hatoras Nedarim” - releasing of vows on Erev Rosh Hashana. A very famous, core question is ‘Why, if we do Hatoras Nedarim on Erev Rosh Hashana, must we say Kol Nidrei?’ Conversely, if we say Kol Nidrei, why must we say Hatoras Nedarim? The most common answer for the first question is that Kol Nidrei refers to the vows of the community, while Hatoras Nedarim takes care of personal vows. On another level, according to one Nusach, Kol Nidrei frees us from future vows only if the condition is forgotten later, while Hatoras Nedarim is said for all personal vows.

Nedarim/vows, which can occur for reasons as common as making a statement to do or not do something, are very powerful. Chaza”l say ”"It’s better not to vow than to take a vow and not fulfill it.” True, taking a vow and motivating ourselves to do or not do something could be a positive technique to get closer to Hashem, but it runs a risk. Beyond the technical issue of getting ourselves in trouble by not fulfilling a vow, there is always a way around it. 1) We can become accustomed to adding the words ‘bli neder’/without a vow either at the beginning or the end of our statements. 2) We can always have the vows annulled or released. Perhaps there are other lessons to glean from the halachik discussion of vows. One such incidence was recently addressed in daf yomi where the Gemara discusses vows which are taken by a husband that would affect his wife, and a wife making a vow that would affect her husband.

The Gemara Kesuvos 71b and the top of 72a discusses whether a husband can take a vow that would restrict his wife from participating in certain activities. If he is forbidden to make these declarations, then should she be entitled to leave her husband and receive her guaranteed Ketubah money. הַמַּדִּיר אֶת אִשְׁתּוֹ וְכוּ׳. בִּשְׁלָמָא לְבֵית הַמִּשְׁתֶּה § The mishna states: One who vows and obligates his wife not to go to a house of mourning or to a house of feasting for a wedding, must divorce her and give her the payment of her marriage contract because it is as if he were locking a door in front of her. The Gemara asks: Granted, when he forbids her from going to a house of feasting, 72a אִיכָּא נוֹעֵל בְּפָנֶיהָ, אֶלָּא לְבֵית הָאֵבֶל מַאי נוֹעֵל בְּפָנֶיהָ אִיכָּא? תָּנָא: לְמָחָר הִיא מֵתָה וְאֵין כׇּל בְּרִיָּה סוֹפְדָהּ. וְאִיכָּא דְּאָמְרִי: אֵין כׇּל בְּרִיָּה סוֹפְנָהּ. there is effectively an act of locking a door in front of her by withholding from her any possibility of rejoicing, but when he forbids her from going to a house of mourning, what locking of a door in front of her is there? He taught: In the future she too will die, and no person will eulogize her or take care of her, just as she did not care for others. And some say: No person will value her or pay attention to her, since a person who does not visit the sick or console mourners cuts himself off from others. תַּנְיָא, הָיָה רַבִּי מֵאִיר אוֹמֵר: מַאי דִּכְתִיב ״טוֹב לָלֶכֶת אֶל בֵּית אֵבֶל מִלֶּכֶת אֶל בֵּית מִשְׁתֶּה בַּאֲשֶׁר הוּא סוֹף כׇּל הָאָדָם וְהַחַי יִתֵּן אֶל לִבּוֹ״, מַאי ״וְהַחַי יִתֵּן אֶל לִבּוֹ״? דְּבָרִים שֶׁל מִיתָה: דְּ[יִ]סְפֹּד — יִסְפְּדוּנֵיהּ, דְּ[יִ]קְבַּר — יִקְבְּרוּנֵיהּ, דִּידַל — יְדַלּוּנֵיהּ, דִּ[י]לַוֵּאי — יְלַוּוֹנֵיהּ, דְּ[יִ]טְעֹן — יִטְעֲנוּנֵיהּ. Similarly, it is taught in a baraita: Rabbi Meir used to say: What is the meaning of that which is written: “It is better to go to a house of mourning than to go to a house of feasting, since that is the end of all men, and the living will take it to heart” (Koheles 7:2). What does “and the living will take it to heart” mean? It means that they will take matters relating to death to heart, realizing that they, too, will eventually die. He who eulogizes others, people will eulogize him; he who buries someone, people will bury him; he who lifts others to bring them to burial, people will similarly lift him to bring him to burial; he who escorts others out for burial, people will similarly escort him; he who carries others, others will carry him. Therefore, one who does not come to a house of mourning to comfort the bereaved will himself not be treated with proper dignity when he dies.

The Talmud is contextually dealing with the relationship and status of vows between husband and wife. Often, the Torah whether it is the written law, the oral law, rishonim, acharonim or poskim, have a way of sending a message which causes us to read between the lines. The gemara is sending a clear lesson of communal involvement. The examples listed earlier are not limited to end of life, although I have seen this to be the case. Rather, the lesson should be for every aspect of shared Jewish life. In terms of a Jewish community, it entails every person to be on every committee. Every person needs to volunteer for whatever needs to be done. Every person needs to show up at every event. There is no room for just taking that which I need and if something doesn’t “speak” to me I don’t have to show up, I don’t feel the need to participate. If people choose not to show up, choose not to help or participate, the system will crash causing the entire infrastructure of the community to no longer have the ability  to carry out its obligation to attend to all the community’s events, occurrences and needs.   

The Torah, in the beginning of this week’s Parshas Nitzavim in Devarim 29:9 states:"אתם נצבים היום כלכם לפני ה' אלוקיכם, ראשיכם שבטיכם זקניכם ושוטריכם כל איש ישראל"   “Today you are all standing before God your Lord – your leaders, your tribal chiefs, your elders, your law enforcers, every Israelite man.” There are a handful of times that we as a shul community come together at the same time and place. One of them is the sounding of the Shofar when all men, women, and children listen collectively to the sound of the Shofar. The sound of the Shofar has many meanings, many levels of understanding. One of them is the that the Shofar is a call to action. Just as the trumpets’ blast leads the charge of the army to battle, so, too, the Shofar is the sound of the charge for each and every one of us to join forces with our comrades into the battle - whether we like that particular battle or not. We all need to be there for everyone else. Let the Shofar penetrate the core of our existence to remind us – all of us - that we are here for each other, and if I am here for you, then you will be there for me.

Ah Gutten Shabbos & Ah Goot Yur

Rabbi Avraham Bogopulsky

In this week’s Parshas Shoftim, the Torah states that if a person should be found slain and the identity of the killer is unknown, the elders of the city closest to where the victim was found are to bring a calf down to a valley and decapitate it at that very spot. They then openly declare that they had no part in the death of this victim and ask for atonement for the people of Israel. We understand the procedure and details of this mitzvah. The underlying message is clear:  a tragedy of this sort cannot be allowed to pass without strong response from those nearby – even if the tragic event was not of their doing. Although the Torah is focused on the identity of the killer being unknown, chances are that the identity of the victim is also unknown. As we read in the Torah ^{דברים כא:א} כִּי יִמָּצֵא חָלָל בָּאֲדָמָה אֲשֶׁר ה’ אֱלֹקיךָ נֹתֵן לְךָ לְרִשְׁתָּהּ נֹפֵל בַּשָּׂדֶה לֹא נוֹדַע מִי הִכָּהוּ   Devarim 21:1 “This is what you must do when a corpse is discovered fallen in the field in the land that God your Lord is giving you to occupy, and it is not known who the murderer is.” The focus is on the anonymity of the murderer and not necessarily on the victim. The Gemara in Sotah and the Rambam Hilchos Rotzeiach codifies that if the identity of the murderer is discovered (even if the murderer is on the other side of the world), then the procedure of Eglah Arufah (breaking the calf’s neck) is not performed.  I would endeavor to postulate that if the identity of the victim were to come to light, then we would still go through the Mitzva of Eglah Arufah. The reason: we must stand up for the victim; we must take responsibility when not knowing the murderer even if we now know who the victim is. Apparently, one of the main issues is the identity at least having some knowledge of  the perpetrator, and, no less important, knowledge of the victim. Over time, we develop connections, knowing, connecting the people we meet to those who are around us.

Knowledge and ever-deepening of understanding continues to grow through experience of years of learning how to address tragedy and loss. Being a pulpit rabbi for close to thirty years has helped deepen my awareness of human behavior and has earned me some wisdom. Every pulpit rabbi, perhaps anyone whose work requires helping and guiding people,  has built up a treasure trove of stories and lessons gained over the course of his career that can help and benefit others. Mentoring assistant rabbis and communicating with and learning from other rabbis in the field builds additional layers of growth and wisdom. Questions and interests shared among the rabbinate contribute profoundly to the scope and depth of hands-on learning. Recently, I was having a discussion on death and dying which spilled over into bereavement and mourning. From there the discussion found its way to the cemetery and funerals, including some of the stories – and nightmares – that I have experienced. During that discussion someone asked,” Have you ever officiated at a funeral for someone you did not know?”  It was a great question, and the short answer was, “Yes, I have.” In fact, my rabbinic training course under the tutelage of Rabbi Wein included a public speaking class. We were given a topic to develop and present before the class. One assignment was to deliver a eulogy for someone whom we did not know. That exercise served me very well; my very first opportunity to preside over a funeral came to me in a most unusual way. The following story provides modern reinforcement to the mitzvah of Eglah Arufah.

Before I became a pulpit rabbi, my wife and I taught Judaic studies at a day school in Binghamton, N.Y. One day, my boss, the principal of the school, approached me and told me that a woman had just passed away and the rabbi of the synagogue was out of town. Under those circumstances, as in many smaller Jewish communities, the principal of the school was the default rabbi in charge. He was not particularly interested in doing the funeral in the middle of winter in Binghamton which at that time was experiencing below freezing temperatures and layers of snow over twelve inches deep. So, logically, he turned to me, knowing that I was aspiring to become a community rabbi, offering me the opportunity to conduct the funeral. He told me that the deceased was not someone from the community and this would therefore bring only a small gathering with very little pressure. I reasoned this would give me some good experience, so I agreed to do it.

Part of our training included preparation for a funeral/levaya. The first step was to visit with the immediate family and the mourners prior to the funeral in order to explain three things: 1) what will take place at an orthodox funeral; 2) review the laws of mourning, and 3) take the time to learn about the person whom you will be eulogizing. I asked about the deceased’s youth, education, work history, passions, hobbies, and family life. It was a cold, blistery, winter night as I made my way to the apartment of the deceased’s widower.  We sat down and introduced ourselves, then I began to execute my game plan. I went through the first two parts without incident. When it came to learning about his wife, I asked the widower a question or two. At that moment when I asked about her, his face grew stern, he closed his eyes, and with his hands in the air exclaimed, “Oh! What can I say! What can I say!” I jumped back in my seat and regrouped, changing the topic, and then approaching it from another angle to glean some information about his wife. Once again, arms raised, now palms open, raising his voice a bit stated, “My wife! Oy! What can I say! What can I say!” Again, I gave the husband a little time to regain his composure.  I tried one last time, once again asking if he could tell me something about his wife. Once again, now in a more forceful tone of voice, he called out,” My wife! My wife! What can I say! What can I say!”. At that point I realized I was not going to get anywhere. The next day I walked to the podium to deliver a eulogy for a woman I had never met, raised my hands off the podium, and cried out,” Oy! Mrs. So and so, what can we say, what can we say!” Yes, there are times we do not know the deceased and we are left wondering what happened to that person. This painful story provides perspective regarding our responsibility to the victim. But it also goes deeper: what about me?  This is the time for introspection and for growth.  It is a time to honestly evaluate how we are living our lives.

I felt that the lady whom I eulogized was a victim who had no identity. There was nothing we could say about her – nothing good, nothing bad. She was a “Jane Doe” who had no one to speak on her behalf. As we go through the month of Elul, we need to take the time to evaluate our lives, we need to ask, “What will people say about me when I am gone?” We cannot go through life and after 120 years have the eulogizer get up and repeatedly state,” What can I say! What can I say?” It is critical that we spend these precious days and years processing what others can say about notable things we’ve done, contributions we’ve made, memories we’ve woven into the fibers of our families and community. We live in this world to do and to act for the sake of others, for the sake of those we love, of those whom we can positively help and guide. Let this year be the year of creating the eulogy of what will be said about ourselves after 120 years of giving and caring!

Ah Gutten Shabbos

Rabbi Avraham Bogopulsky

There are certain things we experience in life which convey one kind of meaning and then later take on a new dimension and purpose. There is a tradition at Jewish weddings, bar, and bat Mitzvos for the hosts to provide a kippa/yarmulka that would have information such as the name of the boy/girl/couple and date of the celebration. I would guess this practice originated more commonly among non-observant Jews who provided a kippah for the men upon entering and participating in a ritual life cycle event. This tradition, as many others, seeped into the orthodox venues. Today, it’s common to provide a kippah  commemorating the event even though most of the participants and guests arrive wearing their own kippah. It is still a welcome gift, especially to those who arrive without a kippah.

At a recent bar mitzvah which took place here at my shul beautiful kippot were attractively presented, available to anyone who needed or wanted one. As I gazed out and saw so many  men dotted with this kippah on their heads, it struck me that there is another dimension to this tradition: a sense of unity. Many of the attendees demonstrated a beautiful uniformity that conveyed a unifying message to the event. It was as though everyone, participating together, visually displayed that they were all on the same team rooting for the bar mitzva boy to hit a grand slam – which, by the way, he did!

 I once heard Rabbi Wein explain the phenomena of sports caps, jerseys, etc. Billions of dollars are spent worldwide by men, women and children of all ages who purchase sports paraphernalia and proudly wear the emblem of their teams. It is an identity with the athlete or the team and a sense of pride and joy whether the team or individual is successful or not. There are many kinds of teams - sports, management, business, but often in religion this does not occur. In religion we find most people gather together from similar backgrounds and are familiar with the people around them. Most religious scenarios reflect this kind of ‘sameness’, including Judaism. This is an unfortunate reality, but the following story is so beautiful because it gives the true and meaningful definition of a team.  

A little over twenty years ago Rabbi Yonah Weinrib, a remarkable artist who specializes in elaborate manuscript illumination which combines a wide array of art techniques and media to enhance his exacting calligraphy, was a scholar in residence in San Diego. He is an accomplished author as well as an artist. One of his pieces is called “Min HaMinyan” which is a picture of exactly ten Jews from all different backgrounds davening at the Kotel to make up a quorum to daven. I know that my shul, Beth Jacob, shares this beauty. Throughout the year we welcome tourists, businesspeople, individuals who have dome for medical needs, conference attendees, and so forth, who visit our shul. These visitors typically come from many different religious, economic and social levels. Throughout every summer, we have the pleasure of welcoming all the different brands of Jews - from the right to the left and everyone in between. Lo and behold, as soon as we all come together under one roof to daven, we become teammates all working towards the same goal, serving Hashem.

In this week’s Parshas Eikev the Torah in Devarim 9:10 states "ויתן ה' אלי את שני לוחת האבנים כתבים באצבע אלוקים ועליהם ככל הדברים אשר דבר ה' עמכם בהר מתוך האש ביום הקהל"  “God gave me the two stone tablets written with God’s finger. Upon them were written all the words that God declared to you on the mountain out of the fire, on the Day of Assembly”. Rav Yakov Kattina mentions that the last word of the passuk should be either the sixth of Sivan or Shavuos, which was the day the Torah was given. Why is the term “Kahal” or Assembly used in this case? In his Sefer Korban Ani, Rav Kattina addresses this, explaining that the day the Torah was given is called “Yom HaKahal”- the day of the gathering! On that day there was Achdus/Unity among the Jewish people that has never been before been seen or  witnessed again. Rav Kattina brings forward a Zohar that says there have been many times when the Jewish people have come and gathered together, but never has there been such an incredible degree of unity as that time around Har Sinai when we received the Torah. Let us keep in mind that there were twelve tribes plus the Leviim and Kohanim. Rare is the time when the entire Jewish people get together and are on “the same page”.

The ultimate goal is for all of us to come together at all times and places, to have one unified voice. In actuality, we do, but we don’t realize it. There is one and only one thing that unifies the Jewish people, our Torah. That last official unity took place back at Har Sinai; such total, complete unity is one of the things that holds us back from complete redemption. The sad part is that when Jews of different backgrounds get together under circumstances outside their regular environment, they thrive on meeting and being together. At least in my opinion - or perception- Jews enjoy being with other Jews despite their differences.  When Jews get together outside of their usual routine and away from their community, they tend to connect to other Jews with whom they’d otherwise never have opportunity or even desire to meet. When the tourists and visitors come to Beth Jacob, the identity crisis is left at the door. We all daven to Hashem, we all enjoy opportunities to learn together, we all share the same identity under the banner of Torah just as we did at Har Sinai!

Ah Gutten Shabbos

Rabbi Avraham Bogopulsky

Rav Yakov Kattina, was an author of two major works. He served as dayyan in Chust, Carpathian Russia, in the bet din of Moses Schick (1849–79). His two works were published anonymously. The first, Racḥamei ha-Av, was first published in Czernowitz in 1865 and has been frequently reprinted. The work has 58 chapters on moral improvement. In the introduction, the author says: "I called this booklet Racḥamei ha-Av ["Mercy of the Father"] for it is true mercy for a man to chasten his child to lead him in the ways of God, this being the sole purpose of man." The second work, Korban he-Ani, homilies on the Chumash in a kabbalistic and cḥasidic vein, was published in Lemberg in 1872 and 1882.

This is the time of year we prepare our Shul’s annual calendar, combining the secular and Jewish dates as well as all civil and religious holidays. I enjoy preparing and editing the calendar (with a few others) for the coming year, benefitting from getting a clear overview of how and when the Jewish holidays fall out. The Jewish component of the calendar is more interesting and more challenging than the secular because in a certain sense it remains fixed. The secular or Gregorian calendar is based upon the sun (solar calendar), while the Jewish (and to an extent the Muslim) calendar follows the moon (lunar calendar). In short, since we follow the moon, all significant dates such as holidays, fast days and minor festivals occur a little before or a little after they did during the current year, almost never falling on the same day of the week two years in a row.

With that being the case, the holidays of Rosh Hashana, Yom Kippur, and the major festivals of Pesach, Shavuos, and Sukkos sometimes fall out mid-week while on other years over the weekends. The same can be said of all the dates in the calendar, including Tish’a B’Av. In Talmudic times, the establishment and setting of the new moon and subsequent holidays and events were determined by two witnesses testifying in Jerusalem about seeing the new moon. In the fourth century, Hillel II (Hillel HaZakein) established a fixed calendar based on mathematical and astronomical calculations. This calendar, still in use, standardized the length of months and the addition of months over the course of a 19-year cycle, mathematically assuring that the lunar calendar realigns with the solar years. Adar II is added in the 3rd, 6th, 8th, 11th, 14th, 17th and 19th years of the cycle. Therefore, we have two acronyms, one for Tishrei and the other for Nissan: Lo AD”U Rosh לא אדו ראש  - indicating that Rosh Hashana will never begin on a Sunday, Wednesday, or Friday - and לא בדו פסח  Lo BD”U indicating that Pesach never begins on Monday, Wednesday, or Friday.

During the year I often hear comments regarding the way certain holidays and national observances fall out. Sometimes these comments refer to the time of the year “oh it is so early this year” or “it falls out so late this year.” Those comments typically relate to how these holidays either coincide with the secular schedule or not. To me, a more significant and important observation are the comments of when Yom Tov falls out in the middle of the week, forcing people to take off more days from work, while a legitimate concern, but simultaneously implying  ”Oy! More Yom Tov and then a few days later is Shabbos?” almost complaining about more days of restrictions, too much eating, too much Shul, etc. A second scenario, which I feel is very offensive, concerns how the date of Tish’a B’Av falls out, either midweek or on the weekend, depending upon when the nine days occurs on the calendar. For some reason people can handle the no-meat custom if the Ninth of Av falls midweek, breaking up the nine days with a Shabbos in between in contrast to the way it fell out this year having a full week of no meat! People really complained, expressing how difficult it is to eat no meat for an entire week. Well, maybe that’s a good thing, helping us to become more aware of and more consciously experience the loss of the Beis HaMikdash. In today’s day and age there are very few things that we either do or do not do to remind us of even minor suffering, allowing us to at some core level  to feel the destruction of both of the Temples in Jerusalem.

This concept of doing without to help us to meaningfully grapple with the deep despair connected to the destruction of the 1^st and 2^nd Temples also applies to the restrictions on listening to or playing music, going swimming and some other activities that need a heter - some Rabbinic allowance to not observe these customary restrictions during the nine days. There is no question when it comes to someone’s health and well-being that Rabbinical dispensation can be awarded, but it behooves us all to think if and when we really need the heter or not. Can we get by for just one week without something that we typically have and enjoy during the rest of the year?

I think part of this issue is the length of the galus/exile itself. The further we get from the holiness of the Beis HaMikdash and the spiritual connection to Hashem, the more difficult it becomes to relate about the loss. Our spiritual and religious relationship with Hashem was strongest when we had the Temple. It is difficult to mourn for something that we have not seen or experienced in our lifetime nor the lifetime of so many generations since the destruction. We understand that a relationship is not based upon physical means and things, nevertheless lacking such physical memory or have  a physical memory or something to visualize, to internalize, this horrific destruction becomes much more difficult to truly appreciate. Reb Tzadok HaKoheinin Tzidkas HaTzadik 221 writes that “forgetfulness” is the beginning of evil. When God occupies our mind, our head is full of goodness, but when we forget about Hashem,  other thoughts seep in. Hashem represents everything that is spiritual;  this world represents everything that is physical. As the exile extends, we grow psychologically further away from Hashem. This notion is answered by the fact that Hashem always continues to seek out a closeness to us. The difficulty we have with it is the association, the connection between the physical presence of holiness in terms of having or not having a Beis HaMikdash. Now that we do not have the Temple we feel cut off from Hashem and subconsciously grow further away. That being said, it is challenging to feel the loss over time, and therefore the restrictions that the Rabbis consciously placed upon us to try to feel this loss doesn’t always resonate with everyone. Without a more physical connection we tend to put less emphasis on those restrictive reminders and feel unnecessarily burdened by them.

It is of utmost importance to stop and think of the purpose of the restrictions, not as a means to punish and make our lives uncomfortable, but to provide us with the subtle, physical reminders of what we have lost in that physical sense of God’s sanctuary, the ability to see, feel, experience the physical and spiritual presence of our Temple. The physical deprivation we try to experience during the three weeks, the nine days and on Tish’a B’Av itself is collectively summed up to remembering the spiritual connection through our physical separation.

With Hashem’s help we will internalize the loss by, yes, experiencing some physical and mental discomfort. This is the meaning of what the Gemara in Taanis 30b states, “And the Sages say: Whoever performs labor on the Ninth of Av and does not mourn for Jerusalem will not see her future joy, as it is stated: “Rejoice with Jerusalem and be glad with her, all who love her; rejoice for joy with her, all who mourn for her.” (Isaiah 66:10). From here it is stated: Whoever mourns for Jerusalem will merit and see her future joy, and whoever does not mourn for Jerusalem will not see her future joy”. Let us all take a little pain and benefit from the great gain!  

Ah Gutten Shabbos

Rabbi Avraham Bogopulsky

This Dvar Torah is L’ilui Nishmas, in memory of Regina Avigdor Bogopulsky - Rivka bas Moshe Aharon & Batsheva on her Yahrzeit

Today, the 22nd of Tammuz, is the Yahrzeit (yearly anniversary of death) of my “grandmother” Regina who passed away June 30^th, 1994. It may sound odd that I refer to my grandmother by her first name and not by the traditional bubbe, safta or grandma. The reason is because she was my step-grandmother. She and my late grandfather z”l  had a wonderful second marriage of about twenty-two years until my grandfather passed away. Since both of my natural grandmothers passed away before I was born, and my grandfather re-married before I was born, Regina was effectively the only grandmother I had ever known.

Even though Regina had her own children and grandchildren, she treated me, the youngest of my grandfather’s grandchildren,  as one of her own. There are two  vivid memories I hold dear: The first was when she bought me a very sophisticated hockey set/game for my ninth birthday, a treasured gift which cost $100.00. . It was packaged in a large 3x5 box which she happily shlepped (carried)  to my house from Linick’s Toys store which was a few long blocks away. The second memory I treasure was the always -available variety of large, thick, sugar cookies, so delicious that I can still savor their taste in my mouth. I have never seen or tasted sugar cookies like those ever again in my life; they were one of a kind. Following my grandfather’s death, my parents visited with her regularly for the rest of her life.  She proudly attended my wedding and was prominent in all the family pictures. Unfortunately, once I moved away I was no longer able to visit her.  She passed away a few years after my wedding. I look back now, twenty-eight years later, remembering with total clarity how wonderful she was to my grandfather, and what a wonderful, nurturing grandmother (the only grandparent I ever had) she was to me.

Jewish women throughout our history have played an immense role in both the private world of their homes as well as in the national spotlight.  For me, Regina was my personal national spotlight.  I thank her posthumously for all she did for me. Regina was proud of me and treated me as one of her own grandchildren. To be honest, however, her biological grandchildren - understandably so - were the shining stars of her world. I believe the correct relationship for me regarding her grandchildren would be ‘stepcousins’. One of the older step cousins, Aidel, married Rabbi Ephraim Buchwald who penned* the following dvar Torah in the year 2000 just six years after Regina passed away. In my opinion Rabbi Buchwald’s words encapsulate a core aspect of our grandmother. May this be a zchus and an Aliyah for her neshama.            

“In this coming week’s parshas Pinchas, we learn of the precedent-shattering request of the daughters of Tzelafchad. The Torah, in Bamidbar 27, records that the five daughters of Tzelafchad came before Moshe, Elazar the Priest, the Princes of the Israelite tribes, and the entire congregation at the door of the Tabernacle. The women claimed that their father had died in the wilderness and had left no sons. The Torah in Bamidbar states in 27:4"למה יגרע שם אבינו מתוך משפחתו כי אין לו בן, תנה לנו אחוזה בתוך  :אחי אבינו"   “Why should our father’s name be disadvantaged in his family merely because he did not have a son? Give us a portion of land along with our father’s brothers.”

The Torah relates that since Moses did not know the immediate answer, he brought the question before God. God told Moshe that the claim of the daughters of Tzelafchad was justified and instructed Moshe to transfer the inheritance of their father to them. In further clarification, God states that if a man dies and leaves no sons, his property shall first transfer to his daughters, and only afterwards, if there are no female heirs, to other close relatives.

This scriptural portion is indeed remarkable. After all, why didn’t the Torah just include this law, that the property of a man who leaves no male heirs transfers to his daughters, as part of the regular legal portions that appear throughout the Torah? Why was it necessary for the daughters to approach Moses, and why was Moshe incapable of responding, making it necessary for him to get the answer directly from Hashem?

We live in an age where many disenfranchised, or so-called disenfranchised, people make claims about historic injustices. They demand that the discriminatory practices cease and often request compensation for previous injustices. While surely many of these claims are legitimate, the practice of discriminatory claims has become so widespread, and in certain instances has gotten so out of hand, that it’s been quipped, only half in jest, that soon left-handed people will start class-action suits against public accommodations which have staircase rails only on the right.

Distinguishing between a legitimate claim and a non-legitimate claim has become an art. And with the factor of “political correctness” often being added into the mix, woe unto the person who does not show proper respect to those claims — legitimate or not!

The Torah was the first universal document to insist that a man provide for and adequately support his wife, as we learn from Shmos 21:10, “Sh’era, k’sutah, v’onatah lo yig’rah,” Men must provide their wives with food, clothing, and physical pleasure. Furthermore, the entire narrative of the book of Exodus indicates that, were it not for the women, the Jewish people would never have been redeemed from Egypt — in each case citing the errant behavior of the men and the faithful behavior of the women. The Torah (Deut. 24:1) is also the first document in human history to provide for divorce for unsuccessful marriages. The Gemara/Talmud Sanhedrin 76b states movingly that one must love one’s wife as much as oneself and honor her more than himself. It is indeed fascinating to note that the male-dominated Halakhic hierarchy of Jewish law has worked assiduously over the millennia to expand the rights and privileges of women, particularly remarkable since this was done at the time when other civilizations were limiting the rights of women. It was not so long ago that women in some countries of the Orient were expected to jump into the grave and be buried alive after their husbands died. The Gemara Arachin 19a teaches that an older woman in the house is a treasure and a blessing.

Now back to the earlier question. Why indeed was the law of inheritance of daughters not included in the general legal sections of the Bible? Why was it necessary to ask G-d to render a decision? Perhaps because Halakha, Jewish law, is an evolving law. Clearly the social status and positions of both men and women change as society evolves. Could it be that the Al-mighty was signaling us that as the role of women changes in secular society, the role of women needs to be reevaluated in the religious society. But, of course, there is a caveat — if the laws of secular society controvert any of the values and laws of the Torah, they must not be followed. To the contrary, they must be rejected. However, when the laws and customs of society do not clash with Jewish law, then Jews must take a leading stand in the efforts to expand women’s rights and privileges.”

The laws that we learn from the episode of the daughters of Tzelafchad were a revolutionary breakthrough in society and family. Clearly, my grandmother Regina was a modern-day daughter of Tzelafchad. She was a true woman of valor of her time. Women of strength, clarity of thought and dedicated devotion to their families, women such as my grandmother, Regina, are the shining stars of our time. They exist to help us all understand the nature of Torah and the nature of the Torah’s perspective on women.

*This is an edited and truncated version of the original.

In every system of governance, there are hundreds if not thousands of laws and regulations, and, thanks to the limited knowledge of those who made and later revised the laws and regulations, all of these man-made rules and laws are subject to revision and change over time.  The only set of rules and laws that are immutable are those within the Torah itself which was created by Hashem for mankind. Only God, who created man, knows how to create a system that is not limited by time or change; the laws of God are timeless – past, present, and future were all taken into account. Laws of the land experience continuous change based upon  human conditions and the world at large. Perhaps a seemingly  insignificant example was highlighted a few weeks ago. This incident demonstrated the exact point when even individual judges, referees and umpires who consistently review the everchanging rules are not necessarily completely versed in the new laws. Perhaps a more reasonable excuse for the indecision is based upon a lack of clarity in the law itself.

On June 17^th the Yankees – Rays game had a sixteen-minute interruption as a question regarding allowing a pitching change to take place was debated. Without going into the minutia of the rule, the umpires did not know the rule and required the assistance of MLB ruling division in New York. Apparently, the managers of each team did know the rule, but the umpires did not. I understand the umpires not knowing or at least not remembering the pitching change rule, because the rules of pitching changes are constantly changing!  Personally, as a Rabbi I can appreciate not knowing or at least not remembering a halacha when it must be made on the spot. I can attest to the pressure and anxiety resulting from a halakhic ruling that is urgent; it must be made in the moment. This scenario took place in Shul during the reading of the Torah, but first I must share some backdrop in order to be able to fully appreciate what happened.

Dr. Bill Lapp brought me a mini handbook of laws on krias HaTorah - reading of the Torah. Every day between Mincha and Maariv we methodically and slowly made our way through this small but all important sefer. We covered laws and scenarios that I witnessed and other situations that inevitably will come up, albeit only rarely.  We had just reviewed a scenario whereby the Ba’al Korei/the Torah reader went past the stopping point, and we needed to figure out the precise starting point for the next Aliyah. I could have taken a few minutes to research the correct procedure, but during the morning minyan ‘time is of the essence’- a split-second decision is required. I made the decision, and Baruch Hashem I have a decent track record of getting the call right, although not one hundred percent of the time. Nevertheless, I was told by Rav Dovid Cohen Shlit’a that a Rov has a certain Siyata Dishmaya (Heavenly assistance) to make the correct ruling that can be relied upon with some authority. I believe I came up with the correct call and no one questioned it. Perhaps this was because everyone had already run out of Shul that morning (lucky for me)!

Every city, state and country have laws which each individual is required to know. These laws exist to protect and to guide each member of that society to be a totally law-abiding citizen.  While very citizen should, in actuality, know every law,  there are many obscure laws which are not necessarily commonly known. Nevertheless if caught breaking the law, the claim of ignorance won’t hold up in court. In essence, we must know the law, but we do not necessarily need to know the reason behind the law. This is congruous to the laws of Judaism found in the Torah itself.

In this week’s Parshas Chukas the Torah describes the Mitzva of Parah Aduma/the Red Hefer. The Para Aduma is the quintessential mitzva which describes what a ‘chok’ or statute contrasts with a ‘Mishpat’. The Para Aduma is a ‘chok’;  even Shlomo HaMelech, the wisest of all men, did not understand it. Rav Yosef Zvi Salant, in his sefer Be’er Yosaif (5769), quotes  a Medrash Rabbah 19:6 on the first words of the Parsha Bamidbar 19:2 "זאת חקת התורה"  -These are the statutes of the Torah. “Reb Yosi b”r Chanina said: “Hashem said to Moshe, ”To you I will reveal the reason of the mitzva of Parah Aduma – but after it will be a chok”. Rav Salant asks, ‘if there is a reason for the mitzva of the red hefer, why did God hide it from everyone, even from the wisest of men?’ In addition, it was explained that the red hefer came as an atonement for the golden calf. So we do know the reason! Therefore, why is it considered a chok? Apparently, the chok is regarding the difficult understanding of the purification process when the Tahor/the cleansed person becomes Tamei/defiled when performing part of the service. There is an important reason and lesson to be learned from the fact that we do not know some of the reasons. Hashem intentionally left out the reasons behind some of the commandments so that a person would become accustomed to performing the mitzva despite not knowing why. To perform a Mitzva that one fully understands and comprehends gives more reason for a person to do it and not necessarily because God commanded it. Perhaps if we knew the reasons behind every Mitzva we could come to rationalize and argue against its worthiness. This is the antithesis of what a true eved/servant to Hashem is. A true servant is someone who obeys, performs, and serves without question. There were times I have been challenged with this understanding, calling it  ‘blind faith’; the answer to that is, yes! It is blind faith. Unfortunately, in our day and age, in our society today there is a culture of all about me -  ‘my rights’, ‘my way of thinking’.. Yet there are mitzvos that we do understand, but those are typically mitzvos that we would probably think of on our own. Since they make sense we don’t challenge Hashem on those, only the ones we don’t understand.

Ultimately, if we can serve Hashem on a level which transcends understanding, we will root ourselves ever more deeply in our Emunah/faith in Hashem, reaching a profound level of understanding of the ways of Hashem. Chukim give us the protection that man cannot disagree with God, thinking  he or she can do whatever one’s mood dictates.

 L’Havdil, playing in a ball game, we must know all the rules of the game even though we may not understand them. Even if we disagree with the rule, we know every player still follows it or there are consequences. How much more so, when it comes to our heritage, our history, our people, our past, present and future.  We must be dedicated to knowing all the rules, laws and customs, even the Chukim that we may not understand or know the reasons why they must be observed.  They must be followed even if we disagree. Ultimately, this devotion to our laws including the chukim will strengthen ourselves, our families and our communities and bring us closer to our Creator.         

Ah Gutten Shabbos

Rabbi Avraham Bogopulsky

This Dvar Torah is sponsored by Saylor and Bracha Crayk in honor of Bracha Pesia Crayk's Birthday

From time to time I find myself at one of the largest, busiest airports in the world - Chicago’s O’Hare international. O’Hare, due to its size, sometimes requires changing terminals, going up and down and all around! As in many airports and other travel centers, moving walkways help  speed up the average person’s walking time, allowing the ‘walking’ passengers to just stand still and allow the belt to move them along to their appropriate boarding locations.  While gliding along on one of these moving walkways, I began to think about  the multiple devices used at airports as well as train and railroad stations which help people to move from one place to another. Thinking these inventions were relatively new, I searched a bit and was taken by surprise at what I learned. Here is a brief history of these moving people devices.

Since the beginning of time, man has striven to figure out ways to move around beyond the physical limitations of the human body. The Otis Elevator Company can trace its origins to 1853, when Elisha Graves Otis introduced the first safety passenger elevator at the Crystal Palace Convention in New York City. His invention impressed spectators at the convention, leading to the introduction of  the first passenger elevator, installed in New York City in 1856. Only three years later in 1859, Nathan Ames in Michigan invented something he called ‘Revolving Stairs’,  generally acknowledged as the world's first escalator.

A moving walkway, also known as an auto walk, moving pavement, moving sidewalk, people-mover, or travelator, is a slow-moving conveyor mechanism that transports people across a horizontal or gently- inclined plane over a relatively short distance. These moving walkways are often installed in pairs, one for each direction.

The first moving walkway, designed by architect Joseph Lyman Silsbee, debuted as The Great Wharf Moving Sidewalk at the World’s Columbian Exposition of 1893, in Chicago https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Chicago. It had two different divisions: one where passengers were seated and one where riders could stand or walk. It ran in a loop down the length of a lakefront pier to a casino. Six years later a moving walkway was also presented to the public at the 1900 Exposition Universelle in Paris as the Rue de l’Avenir. The walkway consisted of three elevated platforms, stationary, a second which moved at a moderate speed, and the third at about ten kilometers per hour (six miles per hour). These demonstrations likely served as inspiration for some of H. G. Wells' settings mentioned in the "Science Fiction" section below.

The first moving walkway in an airport was installed in 1958 at Love Field in Dallas. Moving walkways generally move at a slower speed than a natural walking pace, and even when people continue walking after they step on a moving walkway, they tend to slow their pace to compensate, thus moving walkways only minimally improve travel times and overall transport capacity but nevertheless give the harried passenger time to just ‘let it roll’.  

People often think of technology as something that was created by man. A person could easily fall into this kind of mentality. Man is given the tools by God to create and produce so as to ‘move’ mankind along for many different reasons. We should never forget that all the modern conveniences of life and all the technology we continuously are being introduced to should be used to help ‘elevate’ us in our service to Hashem. That point, however, too often gets lost on the toys. Not only must we realize that the actual invention is from Hashem, but the central theme of the invention is also from God. This is so clear from some of the Torah’s related stories. Here is a perfect example:

In this week’s Parsha Shlach the Torah states in Bamidbar 13:25 "וישובו מתור הארץ מקץ ארבעים יום"  “At the end of forty days they came back from exploring the land”. Rashi questions the ability for the spies to travers the land so quickly. Rashi writes, “But is it not four hundred Persian miles by four hundred Persian miles, and the walking distance of an average person is ten miles per day; thus, there is a walking time of forty days from East to West and they traversed the entire   length and breadth? However, since it was revealed before the Holy One Blessed Be He that He would decree upon them ‘for every day a year,’ קצר לפניהם את הדרך   He shortened before them the way”.

The spies had what we call ‘kfitzas haderech - a jumping of the way’. This is not the only place in the Torah we find this. Yaakov Avinu also experienced this phenomenon. This is clearly an open miracle. So why didn’t the spies  recognize that Hashem has the ability to fulfill His promise, guaranteeing that the Jewish people would, inherit and conquer the land? The answer offered by many is miracles and wonders only work for those who believe in them. Those who do not believe, cannot  see or even perceive of these miracles. That is something Dovid HaMelech says in Tehilim which we read in Hallel "עינים להם ולא יראו" :   “Eyes they have, but they see not”.

We are, Baruch Hashem, blessed with eyes to see and ears to hear, and so forth.  Sometimes we must ask ourselves, ”What are we really looking at?  Am I looking at all?

What do I see?” Is it true that just because we have eyes, we will see and perceive everything? The answer, of course, is a loud and clear, “No!” Just because we have eyes, enabling us to look, to see, to even see something in its acutely visual form does not mean we are truly seeing – truly perceiving/ understanding - what is in front of our eyes. When we see something, we need to understand where it comes from and what is it about. Hopping on a walkway does not mean I can now sightsee in the airport because I don’t have to watch where I walk. Rather, I must see/actively internalize that Hashem has given me the merit of K’fitzas Haderech, a shortening or speeding up of my travels. As with all parts of this world, the events, the ‘happenings’ we experience are only blessings and miracles if we open our eyes, comprehending at the deepest possible levels, knowing from Whom these events come. Otherwise, we remain blinded, incapable of true appreciation and inner growth.  Even the overt, continuous improvements of modern technology require acknowledgement of giving proper credit to the Source of such achievements As each of us experience what we think of simply by living our modern lives, consider this to be one more step towards building our ever-deepening relationship with Hashem, continuously working to serve Him to the fullest ability of our ability to see! !

Ah Gutten Shabbos

Rabbi Avraham Bogopulsky