Friday, May 29, 2015

Parshas Nasso - Capitalized Coincidences

~ Thoughts on The Parsha ~
Parshas Nasso

Capitalized Coincidences
By: Daniel Listhaus
וַיְדַבֵּר ה' אֶל משֶׁה לֵּאמֹר: דַּבֵּר אֶל בְּנֵי יִשְׂרָאֵל וְאָמַרְתָּ אֲלֵהֶם אִישׁ אוֹ אִשָּׁה כִּי יַפְלִא לִנְדֹּר נֶדֶר נָזִיר לְהַזִּיר לַה': מִיַּיִן וְשֵׁכָר יַזִּיר חֹמֶץ יַיִן וְחֹמֶץ שֵׁכָר לֹא יִשְׁתֶּה וְכָל מִשְׁרַת עֲנָבִים לֹא יִשְׁתֶּה וַעֲנָבִים לַחִים וִיבֵשִׁים לֹא יֹאכֵל

“Hashem spoke to Moshe, saying, “Speak to the B'nei Yisroel and say to them: A man or a woman who shall set apart by taking a nazarite vow to set apart to Hashem; from wine and hard drink shall he abstain, and he shall not drink vinegar or wine or vinegar of hard drink; anything in which grapes have been steeped he shall not drink, and fresh and dried grapes he shall not eat.”
-Nasso 6:1-3

            After describing the degrading process that the sotah must go through, the Torah begins to teach the seemingly unrelated topic of one who accepts upon oneself to be a nazir, and proceeds to relate the relevant halachos (laws).

            Rashi[1] is bothered with the fact that these two different subjects are taught right next to each other in the Torah. Why is it that the parsha of nazir is discussed immediately after the parsha of sotah? Rashi writes that the reason the Torah put the topic of nazir adjacent to that of sotah was to teach us that anyone who sees a sotah in her state of disgrace should take upon himself to abstain from wine by becoming a nazir.

            The question we could ask on this Rashi is why is it that one who saw the sotah should become a nazir? What does the fact that an unfortunate episode happened in someone else's family or life have anything to do with me? Had I happened to live in a different community, or happened not to turn on the news that day, I would not even know of the event with the sotah. The episode is completely independent of me. It would have happened whether I lived nearby or not, it would have happened whether I would have heard about it or not. How could the Torah expect me to see the sotah and as a response limit myself from the pleasures of this world? Let me live my own life with my own worries. Why does a trouble in someone else's life demand a response from those who, by chance, happened to hear of it?

            There is no doubt that the logic behind this question is one which drives many people's decisions in life. For example, imagine one day you sleep through your alarm and end up going to the next minyan in shul because you missed the earlier one you usually go to. After the minyan, the president of the shul gets up and asks the congregants present if everyone could please help gather the sefarim (books) laying around the shul and put them back on the shelf. There are some people who in such a situation will think to themselves, “I was not even supposed to be at this minyan, so there is no way that I could be expected to help out. Furthermore, the announcement would have been made whether I came to the minyan or not.” The person then leaves without helping. However, to put this logic into perspective, let us compare it to a situation where a manager finds himself with two meetings scheduled for the same time at work. He looks at his schedule and sees this and decides to go to neither. After all, the people at meeting A will think he went to meeting B, and the members at meeting B will think he joined meeting A. There is no question that such a mentality is crooked and just as this manager will end up knowing nothing, so too the person who allows such irrational logic to make his decisions for him will miss out on the countless lessons of life. This is what I call the “absence fallacy” – falling into the trap of believing that because one chooses to be absent from two events, one could play them off each other and be exempt from both of them. A person who falls into such a trap of thinking that the events that are part of his life – even if only indirectly – are irrelevant, will never grow to one's potential that is obviously expected of him from the fact that he was put into such a situation.

            There is no such thing as coincidence. Every single situation we find ourselves in is part of a hashgacha p'ratis (individual providence) design for us to each be put into an environment from which we are meant to grow. Sometimes things occur that seem like gifts, sometimes they come in the form of challenges; sometimes these things happen to us directly, and sometimes indirectly. However the thing we must constantly keep in mind is that the way that something effects our life is the way Hashem intends for us to need to deal with the situation – specific to our level and to what He wants us to be able to learn from it. If we ignore the messages Hashem is constantly sending us in the occurrences that make up our lives, we will never become a greater person. We must learn from everything that happens around us and capitalize on the opportunity to learn.

            When something occurs in our circle of life we are indeed expected to take action. Whether it be something in our family, our community, or the world at large, if the message has reached our ears there must be a reason we were meant to hear it. This is the lesson of the nazir. The person who decided to become a nazir had nothing to do with the sotah, perhaps never met her in his life, and might very well think that the nisayon (test) that the sotah's family went through is one that would never occur in his own. All these things may very well be true. However, what we must keep in mind, as this nazir did, is that things that we witness, events that we are involved in – whether directly or indirectly, and even things which occur in our community or the world are all things that by definition become relevant to us because they are things that Hashem caused to be a part of our lives. For some people the message may be louder and closer to home, and to others it may be more distant and the message more through the grape vine, but either way there has to be something that we do to change and learn from what is going on around us.

            May Hashem help us better be in-tuned to the constant stream of messages He sends us in the hashgacha p'ratis way that He deals with us – whether it be the events that occur to us directly or indirectly.



[1]    Bamidbar 6:2

Friday, May 22, 2015

Parshas Bamidbar - All for One and One for All

~ Thoughts on the Parsha ~
Parshas Bamidbar


 All for One and One for All
By: Daniel Listhaus

אִישׁ עַל דִּגְלוֹ בְאֹתֹת לְבֵית אֲבֹתָם יַחֲנוּ בְּנֵי יִשְׂרָאֵל מִנֶּגֶד סָבִיב לְאֹהֶל מוֹעֵד יַחֲנוּ

“The Children of Israel shall encamp, each man at his own division (by his flag) according to the signs of their fathers' house...”
-Bamidbar 2:2

            The Medrash[1] states that when Hashem came to Har Sinai to give the Torah to the B'nei Yisroel, twenty-two thousand chariots of malachim (angels) came down with Him - each with their own flag. When the Jews saw this they also had the desire to have their own flags. Hashem agreed that each shevet (tribe) should in fact each make for itself a flag.

            What does this mean? What did the Jews see in the flags of the malachim which caused them to want to have their own? Also, what is the significance of each shevet having its own flag?

            In order to answer these questions, we must first realize what a flag is. Webster translates a flag as, “any of various monocotyledonous plants with long ensiform leaves”.[2] However, in reality, a flag is something which brings people together.[3] It symbolizes a unit. The navy, army, and air-force each have a different flag representing their own unique missions and goals. A flag is supposed to be something with which everyone in that group could identify. It is a sign to forget differences in order to achieve common goals as a unit.

            At the end of Yaakov avinu's life, he called to his sons and gave each of them a b'racha (blessing). While doing so, he pointed out the unique qualities of each son, simultaneously charging each of them with a different mission in life based on their qualities.[4] Immediately after this event, was the death and funeral of Yaakov. Rashi[5] explains that the way the Jews surrounded the coffin of their father, Yaakov, was an allusion to the exact way that their descendents would later encamp in the desert around the Mishkan (Tabernacle), after yetzias Mitzrayim (the exodus from Egypt). Each of the twelve sons of Yaakov represents a different goal to achieve. Only when each of their individual goals is achieved, could the ultimate umbrella goal of true avodas Hashem be reached. Yaakov, as the “wholesome man, abiding in tents”[6] represents this idea of what the real purpose of man is; while his twelve sons surrounding him, and later surrounding the Mishkan, represent the different entities which must form a circle to complete their overall purpose and goal.

            On the third and must painful day after Avraham's circumcision, three angels disguised as men showed up at his tent. Rashi[7] comments that each angel came to complete a different task. One to tell Sarah that she would give birth to a son in a year's time, one to destroy Sodom, and the third to heal Avraham. Rashi explains that the reason why three separate angels were needed was because one angel cannot perform two missions. Each angel represents a different and specific aspect of Hashem's ratzon, which is why each has their own unique flag – a symbol of what their sole purpose is.[8]

            Just as each angel has its own mission and unique will of Hashem, each of the twelve shevatim represents a slightly different area of man serving Hashem. When the Jews in the desert saw the different flags of the angels they desired to each have their own flag so that all the members of each tribe could see and remember what the responsibilities of their tribe were. It is no coincidence that the colors of each tribe's flag were the same as their respective stones represented on the choshen (breast plate) of the Kohen Gadol.[9] Ruach Hakodesh assigned each of the shevatim a color, representing each shevet's unique qualities and responsibilities; and the Jews wanted each tribe to make a flag in order not to forget this

            With a flag, though, comes a bigger responsibility. People united under one flag are responsible for each other. Just as soldiers in the same unit division must supplement what the other does not complete, and the whole camp is punished if the groups' tasks as a whole are not completed, so too each member of B'nei Yisroel has the responsibility to look out for a fellow Jew - “kol yisroel areivim zeh lazeh[10] (every Jew is a guarantor for one another). On the smaller scale, this requires each tribe to be responsible for its members. On the larger scale, this demands each individual to be responsible for his or her fellow members of K'lal Yisroel as a whole.

            As aforementioned, however, each tribe's flag is really only one-twelfth of the puzzle. The choshen is only completed when all the colors are present, Yaakov could only be buried – with passing his responsibilities of the wholesome man to his sons – once each shevet was in its rightful place alongside the coffin, and the Shechinas Hashem only travels when each shevet is surrounding it along-side its flag. Only when all twelve individual units are complete could the true ultimate big-picture be realized – that the ultimate purpose of man is to be surrounding the Mishkan, serving and coming close to Hashem. The Mishkan is the flag of flags uniting the individual units together.

            When every Jews stays true to his shevet's flag, nothing evil could break the force which is created. If each shevet works to become one with its responsibilities, then a full Shechina is present - for all twelve pieces of the puzzle are in place. This was in fact the case when Bilam tried to curse the Jews.[11] Balak had hired Billam to curse the Jews but when Bilam lifted his eyes to do so, he saw that the each tribe was by its respective flag. At that moment Bilam understood that his attempts to curse the Jews would be futile because he realized that the Jews had achieved the level of being by their flags – uniting each tribe within itself, and the flag of the shechina bringing the twelve parts into one whole.[12]

            We must realize that everything is really one. Hashem is one, His name is one, and His nation is one. These factors are not meant to be added together, for they are in reality all one and the same. Hashem's name is one and Jews are called “goy echad b'aretz” (one nation in the land). When these two echads intersect at the right point then the ultimate oneness is present. This is alluded to through the gematriya (numerical values of the Hebrew letters) one calculates when adding together these two “echads”. The gematriya of echad is thirteen plus another echad equals twenty-six[13] which is the gematriya of the explicit name of Hashem.[14]

            This idea of connecting the achdus (unity) of the Jews with Hashem is further displayed by the Tefillin we wear. Tefillin is the wireless network, so to speak, connecting us directly with Hashem. When we wear Tefillin, we show that we are tied, literally, with Hashem. For this reason, our Tefillin has the Shema written in it, declaring, “Hashem echad” - that G-d is One. On Hashem's side of the connection, the Gemara[15] tells us that Hashem also wears a pair of Tefillin and on it its written: “Who is like your nation Israel, one nation in the land”. This is why the Gemara[16] states that whoever recites shema without tefillin is as if he bears false testimony on himself.

            Judaism is not merely a religion, it is a way of life. Each of us has the duty to balance our individual responsibilities while remembering that we also belong to a bigger picture. It is true that each shevet has its own responsibility it must work towards, however, there is yet a bigger picture. Each shevet's flag shares a common denominator, that all of their flags have a collective flag - the shechina - located exactly in the center of all four camps.

            Every individual must look up at one's tribe's flag and recall one's mission. Then, each tribe as a unit must produce its complete gem, as represented on the choshen, in order to conjointly achieve the ultimate goal: true service of Hashem through building the relationship of oneness between He, who is One, and His nation, who is one – two sides of the same coin.

            Being in galus (exile), we have lost touch with the small picture responsibilities of each tribe. However, let us not forget the bigger picture, the ultimate goal of the entire Jewish people to be close with the shechina. This is what we hope for in the future by the times of Mashiach; the day we describe three times daily at the end of Aleinu L'shabeach[17] as, “On that day shall Hashem be One and His name be One”.



[1]    Tanchuma Bamidbar 14
[2]    Webster's Dictionary :“flag”. (Don't worry, Webster is not totally off his rocker, under the flag entry there is also: “a usually rectangular piece of fabric of distinctive design that is used as a symbol”.)
[3]    Rashi Yeshaya 5:26
[4]   See Beraishis 49:1-28
[5]    Beraishis 50:13
[6]    Beraishis 25:27 Rashi there explains that Yaakov would spend his time in the tents of Shem and Eiver studying Torah.
[7]    Beraishis 18:2
[8]    See Rashbam 2:2 and other commentaries who describe what was on each shevet's flag. For example: On the flag of Yehuda was a lion; and on the flag of Yosef was an ox.
[9]    Medrash Tanchuma 12-14; Rabbeinu BeChayei
[10]  Rashi Vayikra 26:37 and Sanhedrin 27b. Note: The word “areiv” literally means a guarantor. Just like by monetary    law a guarantor is forced to pay in place of the original debtor (if the debtor is unable to pay and other conditions are      met), so too every Jew is in some way responsible for what another Jew does or does not do.
[11]  Bamidbar 24:2
[12]  Medrash Tanchuma 14
[13]  Alef=1 + Ches=8 + Daled=4 for a total of 13 times 2 = Grand total of 26
[14]  The four-letter name of Hashem ;  Yud=10 + Hey=5 + Vav=6 +Hey=5 for a total of 26
[15]  Brachos 6a
[16]  Brachos 14b
[17]  Said at the end of Shacharis, Mincha, and Ma'ariv – from Zechariyah 14:9

Friday, May 15, 2015

Parshas Behar-Bechukosai - Customized Consequences

~ Thoughts on the Parsha ~
Parshas Bechukosai


Customized Consequences
By: Daniel Listhaus

אִם בְּחֻקֹּתַי בחוקותי תֵּלֵכוּ וְאֶת מִצְו‍ֹתַי תִּשְׁמְרוּ וַעֲשִׂיתֶם אֹתָם: וְנָתַתִּי גִשְׁמֵיכֶם בְּעִתָּם וְנָתְנָה הָאָרֶץ יְבוּלָהּ וְעֵץ הַשָּׂדֶה יִתֵּן פִּרְיוֹ

וְהִתְהַלַּכְתִּי בְּתוֹכְכֶם וְהָיִיתִי לָכֶם לֵאלֹהִים וְאַתֶּם תִּהְיוּ לִי לְעָם

“If you will go in My decrees and observe My commandments and perform them; then I will provide your rains in their time, and the land will give its produce and the tree of the field will give its fruit….I will walk among you….”
-Bechukosai 26:3-4;12

            After the Torah describes the great rewards which come to those who perform the mitzvos, Hashem tells us, “I will walk among you and will be a G-d to you and you will be a people unto Me.” Rashi[1] explains that this passuk (verse) is in allusion to the reward of Olam Habbah. Hashem is promising here that He will stroll in Gan Eden with those who keep the mitzvos.

            The obvious question on the passukim here, which the Kli Yakar[2] raises, is why is it that the reward of Olam Habbah is not stated explicitly anywhere in the Torah? The Kli Yakar offers seven answers which he compiled by the many earlier meforshim (commentaries) who were bothered by the same question.

            The first approach is that of the Rambam[3] who writes that the reason that the reward of Olam Habbah is not mentioned is because had the Torah described the incredible pleasures of Olam Habbah, we would be so inclined to do good that it would be impossible for us to do mitzvos l'shma (mitzvos for the sake of listening to Hashem alone) because we would be so focused on trying to attain the unbelievable reward.
           
            The second answer is from the R'av'a[4], who simply says that Olam Habbah is too great to be put into words that a person could comprehend on earth. Therefore, the Torah chose to only list the various mundane incentives and leave out the ikkur (main) rewards.

            Rabbeinu Bechayei and the Ramban have a very different perspective. They are of the opinion that it is indeed self evident that there is Olam Habbah because after all, most people in the world are smart enough to realize that there is something spiritual inside our body that is combined with the elements of dirt and water of which we are made. We have personality, ability to think and reason, and have the tremendous power of intelligent speech. There is an inherent sensation that the generator that keeps our bodies running and alive is something literally out of this world. Therefore, anyone who stops to think about this logically could easily come to the conclusion that just as our bodies, comprised of earth, are returned to dirt, so too the spiritual side of us must return to its place at the time of death. Furthermore, Olam Habbah is essentially discussed in Torah because for many serious aveiros (sins) that a person does, the punishment is kareis – which literally means that the person gets cut off. This implies that as long as one does not transgress on those sins that there must be at least a baseline level of a spiritual world for each individual's neshama to return. What is not so obvious, though, is that nature itself is actually fully controlled by Hashem, and is easily taken off its programmed cycles in order to correspond to how we are keeping the mitzvos. This is how Rabbeinu Bechayei and the Ramban reason that it was actually more important for the Torah to state what is the more mundane reward instead of explicitly describing Olam Habbah.

            The Kli Yakar proceeds to offer two more answers based on the Kuzari[5], which was focused on in a previous year's d'var Torah[6], as well as an answer based on the Rambam's Moreh Nevuchim[7]. However, let us focus on the seventh, final approach he brings. The Kli Yakar writes that the reason that the Torah was not able to mention the rewards of Olam Habbah becomes clear after taking a moment to think about the following. How is it that the Torah could say that if we keep the mitzvos then we will experience blessings but if we do not listen then we will no? What if one person is good and his neighbor is not so good? Will it rain over one of their fields and not the other? Rather, the way to understand the passukim is that whether berachos (blessings) or klalos (curses) come is dependent on what the majority of people are doing. If overall we are doing what we should, Hashem will reward us in many ways in this world as the Torah describes, and if we are generally not doing what is good in the eyes of Hashem, then we will suffer the consequences as a nation. Olam Habbah, however, runs on a completely different operating system. When it comes to one's reward in Olam Habbah, it is completely individual based. Each person experiences a completely different world of Olam Habbah depending on his accomplishments according to his level and life situation.

            The Medrash[8] brings the following story. One time, Rebbe Shimon ben Chalafta realized on erev Shabbos that he had no money to buy food for Shabbos. He went to the outskirts of the city and davened to Hashem for money to buy food for Shabbos. Hashem answered his tefilla and sent him a precious stone from shamayim (heaven). Rebbe Shimon ben Chalafta immediately brought the stone to a jeweler and exchanged it for enough money to buy food. When he brought the money home to his wife, she demanded that he tell her where he got the money from. Rebbe Shimon told over what had occurred. However, she responded that she refuses to derive any benefit from it at all. Rebbe Shimon asked why, and she answered, “Do you want your table to be lacking in Olam Habbah?” In other words, she was telling him that she did not appreciate him giving up some of his reward in the next world for some money in this world. Rebbe Shimon went and told what had happened to Rebbe Yehuda HaNasi, who in turn told him to tell his wife that if indeed anything would be lacking from Rebbe Shimon's “table” in Olam Habbah, that he would personally replenish it from his own. When Rebbe Shimon relayed the message to his wife, she insisted that she go back with him to Rebbe Yehuda HaNasi. When they arrived she said to him, “How can you make such a promise? Does a person necessarily see his fellow in Olam Habbah?” When she made this argument Rebbe Yehuda HaNasi realized she was indeed correct.

            The Kochvei Ohr[9] comments that this response of Rebbe Shimon's wife is very mysterious. What does it mean that a person does not necessarily see his friend in Olam Habbah? He answers that she was saying as follows. The mishna in Avos[10] states that Ben Hey Hey used to say “l'phum tza'ara agra”. This literally means that one's reward is proportional to the amount of exertion required to put in. Unlike any job in the world where it is really irrelevant how much effort one puts in because one  will only get paid when the job gets done, one who tries learning Torah will receive reward in proportion to what is expected of him personally and the amount of effort he puts in.

            Although the conventional understanding of this mishna is that it is referring to the amount one must toil to learn Torah, the reality is that the concept applies to every mitzva. Each person's reward in Olam Habbbah is completely unique based on how hard it was for each individual to do the mitzvos. This, the Kochvei Ohr explains is exactly what the wife of Rebbe Shimon explained to Rebbe Yehuda HaNasi. Rebbe Yehuda HaNasi was extremely wealthy whereas Rebbe Shimon ben Chalafta was very poor. Therefore, Rebbe Shimon had a constant struggle to spend his time learning and doing mitzvos because of his financial hardship. Therefore, his success as a tremendous Torah scholar was (possibly) worth much more than someone like say, Rebbe Yehuda HaNasi, who was wealthy and did not have to overcome the same problems in life. So, Rebbe Shimon's wife told Rebbe Yehuda HaNasi that he could not be so confident to ensure that nothing will be lacking from the table of Rebbe Shimon in Olam Habbah because it could very well be that Rebbe Yehuda HaNasi will not have the means to make such a commitment in the next world since the value of Rebbe Shimon's mitzvos was so high.

            This is precisely what the Kli Yakar is coming to explain as to why it is not possible for the Torah to describe Olam Habbah in our parsha – because it comes in so many different forms. Each person will experience a customized Olam Habbah based on his or her own life situation and what he was able to accomplish, taking into account the amount of exertion necessary for the particular individual.

            The Kochvei Ohr continues to explain that the same is true when it comes to aveiros (sins) as well. The Gemara[11] mentions one who refuses to wear the white strings of tzitzis (which is an extremely easy and inexpensive mitzva to do) will have more to answer to than the one who wears tzitzis, but without techeiles (the rare, expensive blue dye). As the Gemara explains, imagine a king who commanded one of his servants to fetch him some gold and the other he asks to get a cup of dirt. When they both come back later empty-handed, there is no doubt that the king will be much more upset with the servant he asked to get the cup of dirt. After all, his task was so easy to accomplish, there could be no valid excuse as to why he was unable to accomplish this command. So too when it comes to aveiros, the aveiros which are easiest to stay away from we get punished much more for, whereas for the aveiros with a high level of desire to do them, we are punished less.

            The problem with this approach, as the Kochvei Ohr points out, is that it is not true. There are some aveiros such a arayos (illicit relationships) and gezel (theft) which are often very hard for people to stay away from, yet the punishment for these serious aveiros are quite harsh. So how could we understand the reciprocal “l'phum tz'a'ra agra” when it comes to aveiros?

            The Kochvei Ohr answers that there is another level to the system when it comes to aveiros. One's punishment for the aveiros he does is measured not only based on how easy it was to stay away from the aveirah, but also how much benefit he received from doing the particular aveirah. The sequence of the axis – how hard it was to control myself along with how much benefit was realized creates a combination with a customized punishment.

            Hashem gave us the Torah with its mitzvos to keep. It is our job to learn the Torah and keep these mitzvos and there is really no excuse – some of us may be meizidim (sin purposely), some shogegim (sin based on lack of knowledge – not fully on purpose), and some on'sim (complete accident) but there is a category that each of us fall under and will have to answer to. This is a chesbon (calculation) that each person has to make for himself. The answer to what is expected of any individual is not to look to what the people around you are doing because everyone's situation is completely different and their punishment and reward system is unique to them.

            Although the mitzvos in the Torah could often seem daunting and hard, we have an obligation to keep them nonetheless, because being hard is not an excuse to not do a mitzva, rather only a reason to receive more reward.             May Hashem help us be honest with ourselves to understand where we are supposed to be so that the quality of our customized consequences could indeed be priceless.





[1]    Vayikra 26:12
[2]    Ibid.
[3]    Hilchos Teshuva 9:5
[4]    R'av'a Devarim 32:39
[5]    Kuzari 1:104-106
[6]    See Thoughts On Parsha, Parshas Bechukosai – Recognizing Real Rewards (2011)
[7]    Moreh Nevuchim 3
[8]    Shemos Rabbah Parshas Pekudei
[9]    Kochvei Ohr 8
[10]  Avos 5:26 (though actual number mishna may vary per edition, it is the last mishna in the 5th perek)
[11]  Menachos 43b

Thursday, May 7, 2015

Parshas Emor - Of Mice and Men: Divide and Conquer

~ Thoughts on the Parsha ~
Parshas Emor


Of Mice and Men: Divide and Conquer
By: Daniel Listhaus

וַיְדַבֵּר ה' אֶל משֶׁה לֵּאמֹר: שׁוֹר אוֹ כֶשֶׂב אוֹ עֵז כִּי יִוָּלֵד וְהָיָה שִׁבְעַת יָמִים תַּחַת אִמּוֹ וּמִיּוֹם הַשְּׁמִינִי וָהָלְאָה יֵרָצֶה לְקָרְבַּן אִשֶּׁה לַהֹ'ו
                                                                  
“Hashem spoke to Moshe, saying: When an ox or a sheep or a goat is born, it shall remain under its mother for seven days; and from the eighth day on, it will appease for a fire-offering to Hashem.”
-Emor 22:26-27

            The Kli Yakar[1] on this passuk (verse) makes the following observation. The Torah, in discussing the birth of animals, does not use the expression of “when an animal gives birth to a baby”, but rather says, “When an ox or a sheep or a goat is born”. We see from here that the Torah defines an animal by its name immediately when it’s born. As soon as a sheep or a cow gives birth, its product is right away called as such, for it has reached its purpose in life. The purpose of a sheep is to be a sheep. The purpose of a cow is to be a cow. There is no guesswork needed to determine the complexity of any given creature.[2] As the saying goes, “If it looks like a duck, and quacks like a duck, we have to at least consider the possibility that we have a small aquatic bird of the family anatidae on our hands”.[3]

            However, as the Kli Yakar continues, man is very different. A person is defined by his actions. We are put in this world with bechira (free choice) as to how we will direct our lives. The directions we choose and actions we ultimately do are what determine the level of perfection we achieve.

            The Kli Yakar is not really teaching us anything that we did not know already, but rather something which is so obvious to us that we often do not think about it. As people, we are born as unshaped, raw beings waiting to be formed into what we are supposed to achieve. Within each and every child that is born, there is an inherent, incredible potential waiting to be unleashed through making the right decisions. The Mesilas Yesharim, based on the teaching of Rebbe Pinchas ben Yair[4], goes through the various levels a person could achieve – from cautiousness all the way to the highest level of kedusha (Holiness). We literally have the ability to make correct choices and ultimately to persevere and reach the highest levels of the Mesilas Yesharim – becoming as close to Hashem as a malach (angel) while privileged with access to ruach HaKodesh (Holy spirit) and being capable of performing techiyas hameisim (resurrection of the dead).[5]

            Nonetheless, it is often hard for us to realize our own potential. We all know that there is much that is expected from us, and that there have been great people in the past who have accomplished tremendous amounts. However, when it comes to us, we often convince ourselves that it is out of our reach or capability. Somehow, we are supposed to understand our potential and try to achieve it; but how do we get ourselves to take the first step and then how do we go about accomplishing what we are here to do?

            The Mishna in Pirkei Avos[6] states, “They used to say three things: Rabbi Eliezer says: 1. Let the honor of your fellow man be as dear to you as your own... 2. Do teshuvah (repent) one day before your death 3. You should warm yourselves opposite the fire of the chachomim (Torah Sages)....” 

            Is there a connection between these three ideas? Could we perhaps find a common theme throughout these ideas being expressed in this Mishna?

            The first teaching was that the honor of your friend should be as dear to you as your own. When hearing this, the first thing that comes to mind is the mitzva of v'ahavta l'reiacha kamocha[7] (you should love your friend as you love yourself). The immediate difficulty with understanding this mitzva is of course the fact that one's love for others seems dependent on one's love towards oneself. Does this mean that someone who is full of himself must treat someone else with the same respect, while a depressed person is expected to make everyone else's life miserable? Certainly not! Rather, the mitzva of v'ahavta l'reiacha kamocha must be a two-part mitzvah. First, one is obligated to realize his or her own self respect – why one as a person is deserving of honor. Only then could one see that while each person is different from each other with different strengths and weaknesses, there is one common denominator which applies to each and every individual. There is something unique about being a ben-Adom (literally: son of Adam) which merits an inherent kavod (honor) and respect.

            This is certainly a difficult idea to pin-point. After all, we know how bad the middah (trait) of gaivah (haughtiness) is and the measures we must take to avoid it at all costs.[8] Yet, at the same time, the mishna in Sanhedrin[9] states that there is an obligation for each person to say, “The world was created just for me.” Rashi[10] on this explains that a person must believe that he himself is as important as the entire world.

            Besides the evident contradiction between being warned against having feelings of gaivah and the obligation to believe that one is just as important as the world at large, the mishna also does not make any sense mathematically. For arguments sake, let us assume that there are seven billion people in the world. Leaving everything else aside, if I am to believe that the I am just as important as the sum total of everything else, then mathematically, each person is worth only one-seventh billionth (1/7,000,000,000) of myself. Yet, considering that the person sitting next to me is believing the same thing, that makes me worth only one-seventh billionth. Which one is it? Is the mishna just giving us false encouragement to lead us in the right direction?

            Perhaps the mishna is actually teaching us what v'ahavta l'reiacha kamocha is all about. Each person has an obligation to recognize his potential – the greatness that one could achieve as an individual. The obligation of reminding oneself of one's importance is not one which permits him or her to feel better than everyone else. Rather it is a responsibility to realize the chashivus ha'adom which each individual has. Each person has such exponential and infinite potential that it is impossible to measure his or her importance.

            This is the first stage we must understand. We must realize that each of us has incredible potential. And although that potential may not be exactly the same for everyone, there is a certain amount of kavod habriyos and level of v'ahavta l'reiacha kamocha which is due out of respect of each person's capabilities, even if they are currently unrealized. The chashivus ha'adom itself demands a level of recognition in its own merit.

            Admittedly, this is one of those things which is easier said than done. The fact that we as humans have an incredible potential may be something which is obvious and yet still has to be brought to our attention. However, even once we realize this about ourselves, we are immediately confronted with a new difficulty: Perhaps now is too late. We have already spent our lives on x, y, and z when we could have been doing something more productive. If so, it could be impossible to turn back on the right path and first start trying to maximize one's potential. This way of thinking, however, is of course a tremendous mistake. All it takes is one second. Just one decision is needed to redirect oneself, and suddenly, what was impossible literally only a moment ago becomes suddenly very possible.
           
            The Gemara Kiddushin[11] states that if someone tries to be mekadesh (betroth) a woman on condition that he is a tzaddik  (righteous person), then even if this individual is known as a complete rasha (wicked person), still we are concerned[12] that perhaps his stipulation worked. After all, just because he was a rasha a second ago, does not necessarily mean that he is a rasha now. Perhaps he changed his direction in one moment and has since decided to be a tzaddik.

            There are two fascinating points one sees from this gemara. First, that we are actually concerned that someone who is a known rasha might have actually become a tzaddik overnight. What happened to the general concept of chazaka which usually allows us to assume that things remain status quo? Second, even if this man really did somehow get struck by lightning and decided to change his ways, does that automatically deem him a tzaddik? At best he should be considered a beinoni (regular person) and we should still not be concerned about his stipulation. What did he do already that was so great that we should suddenly treat him as a tzaddik?

            It must be that it is indeed possible to stop and re-decide at any given point to redirect oneself on a path of reaching one's potential in leading a life of maximum yiras shamayim. Not only that, but as long as one makes that decision, even though it may be later in life, there is still a tremendous amount of potential waiting to be uncovered and realized. Teshuva (repentance) could be done at any time. This is the second stage to keep in mind: It is never too late.

            Despite the realization of these two stages, there is an additional obstruction which could often impede us from starting to conquer our potential. In other words, some people may realize that there is tremendous potential to strive for, and then follow through with actually deciding to go forth with achieving it, but then realize that the task is too great. How could one puny person be expected to learn so much and become so close to Hashem in such a short amount of time? It is impossible!

            Imagine for a moment a mouse which had the good fortune of stumbling across a large bullet salami one morning. Little Micky is so pleased with himself for having discovered such a delicacy, and decides to skip breakfast and lunch in order to work up a massive appetite so that he could properly feast on his salami banquet for dinner. Dinnertime finally arrives and he rushes back to his mouse hole and glances up at the piece of meat, which is at least twice his size, and then looks down at his small mouse-sized plate, he begins to doubt his decision. How in the world is he even going to get the salami on his plate? It is way too big! However, of course, there is a simple solution to this problem which Micky will instinctively do. Namely, that is to utilize something known as salami tactics.[13] In other words, when the mouse realizes that the salami is too much to eat whole, it will attack it slice by slice until it has completed it.

            This is something which is instinctive for a mouse and seems obvious to us, yet it is still something which, for some reason, humans need to actively think about and realize before implementing. For example, one could look at conquering the world as an impossible task, or one could implement the divide-and-conquer strategy, as Alexander and Napoleon did, and suddenly the feat seems more reasonable. Divide and conquer is a simple battle strategy. We must just learn to keep it at the forefront of our minds so that we could accomplish anything.
           
            These three ideas are vital for one to realize in order to succeed. First one must realize his own potential. Then, one must realize that it is expected of him and that it is in reach. Finally, one must not give up by having the right perspective as to how to conquer as much of one's potential as one could.      

            The medrash[14] lists three scenarios to better illustrate this idea. The first setting is where there is a dune of dust, and it is your task to move it from one place to another. The foolish person says, “This is hopeless! It is impossible to move this mound.” However, one who is wise says, “I will transport two bucket-fulls today and two tomorrow and eventually it will get done.” The second case is one where there is a loaf of bread dangling from a high ceiling. The foolish person looks at it and says, “It is literally out of my reach. I cannot even reach it when I jump. It is impossible for me to obtain it.” However, one who is wise comes in with a very different perspective and says, “Did someone else not get it up there somehow? It must be possible to get down.” The third scenario is as follows. Imagine you have the job of filling up a swimming pool using only a pail with a hole in it. The foolish person says, “This is dumb. I fill up the buckets but the water just comes out the hole in the bottom. By the time I get to the pool, there is barely anything in the bucket.” Yet, once again, the wise man looks at this from a different angle, “I am being paid for every bucket I bring to the pool. This task will make me rich.”

            Perhaps this medrash is addressing exactly the three points discussed above, in reverse order. The last case represents the wise person's realization of his existing potential. The second case represents the idea that one's potential is reachable – Hashem gave it to us, and therefore must be attainable. The first scenario in the medrash represents the idea that the only way to conquer a large task is through dividing it – taking one step at a time.

            Perhaps this idea is indeed also the common theme throughout the aforementioned mishna in Pirkei Avos. The first step is that the honor of your friend should be as dear to you as your own. Meaning, one must realize that he himself, and every individual, has tremendous potential and is therefore inherently worthy of kavod.[15] The second step is to repent one day before your death. In other words, as we saw in the Gemara Kiddushin, it is never too late to realize that one's potential is in reach. At any moment, one could redirect himself on the right track; and that moment should be now. No one knows when it will be his last day, so the time to do teshuva is immediately. The third stage is to warm yourself opposite the fire of the talmidei chachomim. As the medrash taught us, the chachomim were not born knowing everything. We must observe that through dividing, taking one step at a time, one could conquer his potential, as the talmidei chachomim have.

            The Chofetz Chaim writes in his introduction to Mishna Berura:

ברוך ה' אלקי השמים ואלקי הארץ אשר ברא את הכל בחסדו בששת ימים ולבסוף ברא את האדם

            May we all merit to realize the chashivus ha'adom, understand the fact that our potential is in reach, and ultimately conquer our goals by taking one step at a time.



[1]    Vayikra 22:27
[2]    See S'forno in Beraishis 2:19 who says that when Hashem brought the animals before Adam HaRishon to be named. Adam did so and called each animal by the name perfectly fitting with its purpose of being.
[3]    Quote from Douglas Adams – British Author. Earlier forms of the quote end the saying with, “...it must be a duck.”
[4]    Avodah Zarah 20b
[5]    Introduction to Mesilas Yesharim by Rabbi Moshe Chaim Luzatto (Ramchal)
[6]    Avos 2:15
[7]    Vayikra 19:18
[8]    See Orchos Tzadikkim: Sha'ar HaGaivah
[9]    Sanhedrin 37a (4:5 in the mishnayos)
[10]  Ibid.
[11]  Kiddushin 49b
[12]  See the Rosh (Perek 2 Siman 14) and Karban Nesanel (90) there.
[13]  For those of you who are wondering, it is still called salami tactics even if the case would have been with pastrami.
[14]  Medrash Rabbah: Metzora 19:2
[15]  This first line of the mishna actually fully reads, “Let the honor of your fellow man be as dear to you as your own, and do not be prone to become angry.” At first glance, the end of the line seems completely unrelated. However, in learning our way it comes out good – that the type of kavod one is having for himself and for others, is not one stemming from gaivah (which would allow for you to get angry with others). Rather, it must come from a realization of chashivus ha'adom.