Peaking too early: Vayakhel 5785

This week’s haftorah describes the efforts of the great King Shlomo in the construction of the First Temple. He is a great and tragic figure; the attitude of the Talmud towards him is ambivalent.  On one hand, he is the builder of the Temple, he expands the kingdom, builds great fortresses, and administers twelve districts of his country. The wisest of all men, he understands even the cries of animals and the songs of birds. The author of three of the great books of the Bible, he was someone upon whom the Divine Spirit rested.

 On the other hand, the Talmud questions his right to immortality, criticizes his excesses and hubris, condemns his tolerance of the idolatry practiced by his foreign wives and even attributes the rise of Rome and the destruction of the Second Temple to his marrying the daughter of the Egyptian Pharaoh. Jewish legend has him driven off of his throne by a demon, being made to wander in exile for part of his life. All of this naturally dims the luster of his earlier accomplishment of building the Temple.

The haftorah parallels our parsha, which deals with constructing the Mishkan and its artifacts, with the artisanship employed in the creation of the Temple and its artifacts. Shlomo, so to speak, becomes a second Moshe, supervising the building of the house of God. But, in the case of Moshe, the building of the Mishkan was only one of his career’s accomplishments, dwarfed by the massive achievement of teaching and instilling Torah within the people of Israel. The building of the Temple by Shlomo was the high point of his career, but he slipped off the lofty pedestal of greatness that he had attained.

 The Talmud teaches us that “happy are those whose later years do not shame their earlier accomplishments.” My old law school professor assured us that every lawyer makes a bad mistake at least once in his professional career. He also stated that those who are fortunate enough to make that mistake early in their career are truly blessed, because they can recover and advance. Making it late in one’s professional life can be disastrous to one’s life and reputation. The same can be said of one’s actions.  Early success can be dangerous because it sets a standard and may cause a degree of complacency that inhibits further achievement. Only a gradual ascent and mature consideration, usually part and parcel of advancing years, can guarantee that those early achievements become lasting, untarnished by later behavior. The comparison between the two great builders of God’s house—Moshe and Shlomo—illustrates this. While building God’s house is a great achievement, maintaining it and using it to increase spiritual guidance and instruction to the people of Israel is even greater.

Shabbat shalom, Rabbi Berel Wein

When there's more to beauty than meets the eye: the craft of Betzalel

Who is Betzalel--and can he really be so important when the Torah says so little about him? Our member Rabbi Paul Bloom lifts the lid on this remarkable personality whose contribution to the building of the Mishkan earned him eternal renown.

Betzalel: The Hidden Leader Who Built the Mishkan

A new name emerges in the history of the Jewish people, playing a crucial role in the leadership of the nation at a defining moment. This individual is not a figure we have encountered before, nor does he reappear later—yet his impact is profound. Betzalel ben Uri is entrusted with the monumental task of constructing the Mishkan, the sacred dwelling place of the Divine, in all its intricate detail, glory, and beauty.

Betzalel’s Lineage and Spiritual Legacy

Betzalel’s yichus (lineage) is notable. According to Rashi and Midrashic sources, he is the great-grandson of Miriam HaNeviah. Miriam married Calev ben Yefuneh, one of the two spies who remained faithful to Moshe Rabbeinu and resisted the negative report of the other ten spies. Their son, Hur, according to Chazal, was tragically killed during the episode of the Golden Calf. Hur’s grandson, Betzalel, now emerges in Parashat Vayakhel, chosen for his exceptional qualities and unique spiritual gifts.

The Torah describes Betzalel as being endowed with “wisdom, understanding, and knowledge” (Chochmah, Binah, and Da’at). These three attributes encapsulate the full spectrum of wisdom—intellectual acumen, deep comprehension, and divine inspiration. But why would an artisan need such profound spiritual qualities? Wouldn’t craftsmanship alone suffice for building the Mishkan?

The Spiritual Dimensions of Construction

The Mishkan was not just an architectural endeavor; it was a spiritual construct, mirroring the very fabric of creation. The Gemara (Berachot 55a) states that Betzalel knew how to arrange the letters with which Hashem created the heavens and the earth. This alludes to the Kabbalistic idea found in Sefer Yetzirah, which describes how each Hebrew letter contains divine energy. Betzalel was not merely assembling physical components; he was imbuing each element of the Mishkan with spiritual significance. Every detail corresponded to an aspect of Ma’aseh Bereishit, the creation of the world.

This concept has parallels in Halacha. Certain mitzvot require kavanah—intention—to sanctify objects. For example, matzot for Pesach must be made leshem mitzvat matzah, and a sofer writing a Sefer Torah must have the proper intent when inscribing the Name of Hashem. Betzalel’s task was to infuse each component of the Mishkan with the right spiritual intent, ensuring it became a true vehicle for Divine presence.

The Gift of Teaching

Another remarkable quality of Betzalel was his ability to teach. The Torah states that Hashem not only granted him wisdom but also lehorot natan belibo—the ability to instruct others (Shemot 35:34). Ibn Ezra notes that possessing wisdom and knowing how to convey it are distinct skills. Many brilliant scholars are poor teachers, unable to translate their knowledge into lessons others can grasp. Teaching requires empathy, generosity of spirit, and a desire to share wisdom.

The Mishkan’s construction was a communal effort, relying on the contributions and labor of the people. The Torah repeatedly emphasizes kol nediv lev—the voluntary generosity of the donors. Just as the materials for the Mishkan came from willing hearts, its construction needed to be guided by a leader who could transmit wisdom with a generous spirit. Betzalel embodied this ideal, ensuring that his fellow craftsmen understood not just the technical skills but the deeper sanctity of their work.

The Danger of Beauty

The name Betzalel—"in the shadow of God"—hints at his unique role. The Mishkan was designed to be a place of unparalleled beauty, and beauty carries inherent risks. Art and aesthetics can become ends in themselves, seducing people into valuing external appearances over inner truth. This was a hallmark of Greek philosophy, as expressed by the 19th-century poet John Keats: “Beauty is truth, truth beauty.” In contrast, the Jewish perspective, as seen in Shema Yisrael, emphasizes hearing and understanding rather than seeing alone. Beauty must serve a higher purpose—enhancing our connection to Hashem rather than becoming an object of worship.

This is why Betzalel required special divine protection. Tehillim 91, which begins with Yoshev beSeter Elyon, speaks of dwelling in the “shadow of the Almighty” (Betzel Shakkai). Chazal associate this chapter with protection from spiritual dangers. Betzalel’s artistic mastery had to remain in service of holiness, ensuring that the Mishkan’s beauty elevated rather than distracted.

A Leader of Vision and Integrity

Betzalel’s role was not just that of a master craftsman but of a spiritual architect. He understood that sacred work requires kavanah, generosity, and humility. He was a teacher who uplifted his people, ensuring they shared in the holiness of the Mishkan’s creation. Most importantly, he was a leader who maintained perspective—using beauty as a tool for Avodat Hashem rather than an end in itself.

When Hashem introduces Betzalel to Moshe, He says, Re’eh karati beshem Betzalel—“See, I have called Betzalel by name” (Shemot 31:2). The word Re’eh (see) is unusual; the Torah generally prioritizes hearing (Shema) over seeing. The Mishkan was a visual masterpiece, but its true essence was in its purpose—to create a dwelling place for the Divine. Betzalel ensured that this goal was never lost.

Though his name fades from the narrative after the Mishkan’s completion, Betzalel’s legacy endures. His wisdom, generosity, and devotion remind us that true leadership is about more than skill—it is about vision, intent, and a deep connection to a higher purpose.

Two parshiyot, joined by a single thread: Zachor and Parah

At first glance the messages of Parshat Zachor and Parshat Parah—this week’s parsha—seem  to be unconnected. Parshat Zachor deals with the age-old enemy of the Jewish people, Amalek. In every generation Amalek assumes different guises but he is always there, threatening the very existence of Israel and the Jewish people. His threat is real and very palpable and he minces no words in declaring his goal: the annihilation of Jews. Parshat Parah deals with a completely esoteric spiritual matter, the laws and rituals of the purification of people who became tamei (ritually impure) and may not therefore participate in certain activities, including Temple worship and sacrifices. 

 Amalek and ritual purification appear to be entirely unconnected, being no more than part of the preparations for Purim and Pesach respectively. But there are no mere coincidences in Jewish lore. The Torah, Jewish tradition and custom are so multilayered that everything contained in them requires study, analysis and additional insight.

Study of the Torah makes one realize that every subject and custom is truly interlinked one with another at its deepest level. Superficial understanding is dangerous: it leads to wrong conclusions and false theories. Just as in modern medicine the physician relies on CT scans and MRI imaging to make a correct diagnosis, so too does the Jew have to search for the underlying principles that unite the Torah and Jewish life and make it an indivisible whole. 

I think that the common thread between Parshat Zachor and Parshat Parah lies in the irrationality of the elements in each of them. Amalek’s hatred of Israel over the millennia defies any rational explanation. Why should Norway and Sweden hate Israel so? Why do the Arabs not see peace as being to their advantage, as a chance to bring a better life to their millions? Why the hatred and incitement and the refusal to see things as they are and not as they somehow would wish them to be? 

It is by now clear that all the peace-making efforts here in the Middle East over the past many decades were based on a single error: reliance on rationality and practicality. They deal with a reality that can be rationally explained and thus confronted, compromised and eventually solved. But the Amalek conundrum is an irrational one. It is not given to explanation or reasoning. From the first unprovoked attack by Amalek on the Jews in the Sinai desert through the Holocaust and now the terrible threats and words of Hezbollah and Hamas, it is all simply insanity and irrationality. But that is the reality of an irrational world. And the Torah wishes us to realize that there are many things that are beyond our rational abilities to control. The Torah tells us to remember this lesson at all times. 

Parshat Parah is also based upon an irrationality. The Talmud points out that the ritual laws regarding purity and impurity, the power of the ashes of the red heifer to contaminate the pure and simultaneously purify the impure, are irrational. We have no explanation for them. They are the exception to the otherwise generally rational and well-reasoned structure of Torah life and ritual. The Torah purposely introduces into the structure of Judaism an element that lies beyond human comprehension. It does so with intent to impress on us the fact that Torah and its attendant halachic principles are not always capable of being fully comprehended by the human mind. There is always an area of faith that is beyond our reach and understanding. 

The Torah points out our human limitations; the finite can never quite reach an understanding of the infinite. Rationality is, as it must be, the basis for human actions and behavior. However, part of rationality is the realization that there is much that exists beyond our powers of rational thought. And the Torah emphasizes this by teaching us Parshat Parah. It also does so by linking Parshat Parah to Parshat Zachor it as examples of the underlying irrationalities that govern our world, society and even our faith and beliefs. Thus do these disparate parshiyot become linked in purpose and thought. 

Shabbat shalom, Rabbi Berel Wein

Pesach: paying for the pleasure! A note on Maot Chittim

What exactly is Maot Chittim? Why is such a fuss made about it at this time of year? Is it the same thing as kimcha depischa? The following note, which seeks to explain Maot Chittim, is based on a longer article by Rabbi Ari Enkin (OU Torah) that you can read here.

Maot chittim, also known as "kimcha depischa", is the duty of us all to donate funds before Pesach to help the poor to cover their holiday expenses. Pesach isn’t just the festival of freedom: it is also intended to impart within every person a feeling of royalty—and we have to ensure that even the poor can feel this way. That’s why Pesach is the only holiday which comes with its own charity collection.

Everyone who has been living in a city for 12 months or more is obliged to contribute to that city's ma'ot chittim fund. Conversely, anyone who has been living in the city for at least 30 days is entitled to receive such funds (though all poor people should be assisted in some manner). No one is exempt from giving to ma'ot chittim charity—not  even the greatest Torah scholars who are generally exempt from paying taxes and other communal collections. Only those who make an effort to help others have the right to begin their Pesach seder with the words: "Let all who are hungry come and eat with us". According to the Kaf HaChaim, those who refuse to donate to the ma'ot chittim fund can be compelled to do so.

Today, ma'ot chittim is distributed in many different ways. Some communities give out food and supplies for free or at a great discount. Others give out cash. But never mind the details! The important thing is to give with a good heart in order to help our fellow Jews.

If you'd like to donate to the shul's Maot Chittim appeal for this year, payment details are here.

Between Man and the Divine

Apropos of this week's double book launch by Rabbi Nachum Amsel, we thought it would be a good idea to open the pages of one of the books in question and see what lies beneath the covers.

The book we've picked is The Encyclopedia of Jewish Values: Between Man and the Divine, a substantial volume penned by the author, whom many readers of this blog will already know as the Director of Education at the Destiny Foundation. 

In common with encyclopedias as a genre, this is no small book. The English section, inclusive of a comprehensive index, comes to 389 pages. Then there are 235 pages of Hebrew source materials--an indication of the author's determination to show the reader exactly where his information is drawn from.

Most of us do not read encyclopedias for the very good reason that normal encyclopedias are reference works into which we dip in search of information on a specific topic. Between Man and the Divine is not however a typical encyclopedia. It is broken up into 40 chapters, each of which addresses a topic on which, typically, we all recognise that a problem exists but it's clear that rabbinical scholarship has offered more than one approach to dealing with it. Rabbi Amsel seeks to offer a fair and balanced view of the for-and-against rulings that have emerged through the years. Where possible he has sought to provide a summary of the conflicting issues.

What sort of topics does the encyclopedia cover? Readers will soon appreciate that many of them are issues that generate heated discussion in shiurim or around the Shabbat table. Examples include the extent to which children owe a duty to parents suffering from dementia, whether God sends us messages today, the permissability of davening to or through the meritorious dead, what the concept of "the real world" actually means, euthanasia and abortion. This reviewer's favourite chapter is the one that addresses the ethical issues of driverless cars, where Rabbi Amsel discusses the Trolley Car dilemma, a famous philosophical problem that has entangled generations of law students.

In short, this is a highly readable work. The text is crisp and clear and the chosen subject matter beguiling. The last word goes to our own Rabbi Wein, who has this to say about it:

“This is a wonderful research book that can be read directly as an informative and necessary work of knowledge about Judaism and the Jewish attitudes towards the moral and ethical issues of general and Jewish society. This is a book for every Jewish home and school".

If you can't get to the Hanassi book launch (details here), you can buy it on Amazon here. Rabbi Amsel's other books are The Encyclopedia of Jewish Values (here) and Jewish Values in the Torah Portion (here).

Hava narishah - rash, rash, rash!

How many times have we heard our children gleefully singing “Chag Purim”? But where does this song come from. It seems that it was composed by Levin Kipnis, employing a traditional melody. Kipnis (1894 to 1990) was an Israeli children's author and poet who wrote mainly in Hebrew and Yiddish. He won the Israel prize in 1978. Max Stern has set this song for unaccompanied female voices (the Antifona Women's Choir, conducted by Constantin Ripa) here. For the lyrics in Hebrew, transliterated Hebrew and English click here.

Max has also arranged “Shoshanat Ya’akov” for a group of instrumentalists from the Israel Philharmonic Orchestra. We all sing this song with great gusto when we conclude the recitation of Megillat Esther, but where does it come from? It is actually the concluding section of a poem, Asher Heni, an anonymous acrostic dating to early medieval times (the closing lines are not part of the acrostic scheme). You can enjoy Max’s orchestration here. For the lyrics in Hebrew, transliterated Hebrew and English click here.

Calves may come and calves may go: Ki Tisa 5785

This week’s Torah reading is dominated by the tragedy of the Golden Calf and its consequences. This episode follows teachings regarding the sanctity of the Shabbat. The rabbis attributed the presence of Shabbat as an indication that even the construction of the Mishkan cannot take precedence over the sanctity of Shabbat.  But that is not all. The dangers of Golden Calves, false gods, superficially bright and enticing ideals that only lead to eventual disaster, are ever-present in Jewish society. Our long history as a people contains is a long list of Golden Calves that have led us astray, to our great cost.

 Paganism, Hellenism, false messianism, Marxism, secularism, nationalism, humanism and unbridled hedonism—to name but a few—have all exacted a terrible toll over our history. But Shabbat, its holiness and its withdrawal from the mundane and impious world have always stood as a refuge, a bulwark against these Golden Calves. Shabbat is our first and strongest line of defense against the wave of falsehood and evil that constantly threatens to engulf us.

Without Shabbat we are lost. With Shabbat we are ever strong. Few things in history are that simple to discern, but the saving grace of Shabbat for Jewish society is plainly obvious. This is why, in parshat Vayakhel, the admonition regarding the laws of Shabbat is repeated in conjunction with a further review of the construction of the Mishkan. The Torah wishes to emphasize, that short of human life itself, no cause—no matter how seemingly noble—takes precedence over the sanctity of Shabbat which, in its eternity and God-given holiness, is likened to the World to Come. How often, when we rush to build, do we destroy and, in our desire to accomplish great things, trample on nobility and moral righteousness.

In the Talmud the great sage Baba ben Buta warned King Herod not to destroy the old until the new has already been erected. The world often believes that the destruction of the old is somehow a necessary prerequisite to constructing the new. The Torah however comes to teach us that the old Shbabat already observed by the People of Israel, even before it was given at Mount Sinai, will outlive and outperform any shiny new Golden Calf that is worshipped so avidly. Golden Calves come and calves may go but Shabbat and Torah remain valid for all times and circumstances. This reflection is buttressed in the Torah by its repetition. The message: our Mishkan is built only with Shabbat and never in contravention of it.

 Shabbat shalom,  Rabbi Berel Wein  

It cannot happen. What the nations would say!

 Here's a delightful recollection by one of our more senior members, Professor George S. Moschytz, of a devar Torah by Rabbi Joseph Soloveitchik on this week's parashah.

Some years ago, I was in the USA for a technical meeting and spent Shabbat in Boston. It was Shabbat Ki Tisa and I decided to walk to the Shul that I knew Rabbi Joseph Soloveitchik (“the Rav”) would attend.

Ki Tisa is the sedra in which, after the Golden Calf incident, Moshe ‘reasons’ with Hashem why he should not destroy the Jewish people and instead make the descendants of Moshe into a great nation (Shemot 32:11-13). His argument was: why should the Mitzri’im say,

“He brought them out with evil intent, to kill them in the mountains and to annihilate them from the surface of the earth?”

The Rav asks (in his beautiful Lithuanian accent): “What kind of an argument is that to Hashem? Why should Hashem care about the gossip of the Egyptians, or of anyone else for that matter?” The Rav’s answer: ‘Since mankind is supposed to follow, as far as possible, in the ways of Hashem (‘Imitatio Dei’), and a principle of our ethics is that man is not free to do what he likes with his reputation, or, in the words of the Rav, “man’s reputation is not his own to do with it what he likes”, it follows that Hashem must also, so to speak, guard his reputation vis-à-vis mankind!

Fast forward to our time. Hashem has permitted the establishment of the Jewish State. He has permitted the return of millions of Jews from all over the world—from a few hundred thousand in 1948 to many millions today. Yet any kind of nuclear attack on Israel, presumably on heavily populated areas, would destroy the country forever.

Nuclear pollution has a so-called half-time survival rate of thousands of years.

A small country like ours would be utterly destroyed. According to the Rav’s comments, it cannot happen! What would the nations surrounding us say….?

Responding to global barbarism: insights from Purim and beyond

As we mark a second Purim at war with Hamas and Hezbollah, writes our member Rabbi Paul Bloom, we are once again confronted with the age-old struggle against hatred and oppression. The Purim narrative, with its cast of characters—Haman, Achashverosh, and the resilient Jewish people—offers profound insights into our response to the barbarism of Hamas and Iran.

The Plot Unfolds: Haman’s Hatred and Achashverosh’s Dilemma

Haman, driven by irrational animosity, sought to annihilate the Jewish people. His malevolence knew no bounds; he envisioned a cruel and humiliating end for an entire community. Yet Achashverosh, the Persian king, hesitated. He rejected Haman’s brutal plan, opting for a more restrained approach. The Talmud (Megillah 14a) highlights Achashverosh’s sensitivity, noting that while he allowed Haman's decree, he was not as bloodthirsty himself.

This early instance of anti-Semitism echoes through history. Today, anti-Semitism persists in politics, international forums, sports, entertainment, education, and even within our own governments and social circles. Worse, it appears to be intensifying. How do we respond to this rising tide of hatred?

Drawing Strength from Our Identity

The Jews of Persia faced annihilation, yet they did not retreat into anonymity. Instead, they embraced their Jewish identity more fervently. In the face of irrational hate, they remained steadfast in their faith and traditions. Their response teaches us a vital lesson: our identity is not defined by external forces but by the blessings of happiness, family, love, life, and the moral compass bestowed upon us by the Torah.

This phenomenon is unfolding in Israel today. We hear stories of hostages and their families rediscovering their faith—saying Shema for the first time, lighting Shabbat candles, donning Tefillin and Tzitzit, and celebrating Shabbat and Yom Tov. This war has ignited a Jewish awakening.

We do not combat emptiness by becoming more empty. Instead, we stand proudly and defiantly, trusting in Hashem and remaining loyal to our people. Our resilience lies not in assimilation but in unwavering commitment.

Beyond Identity: Political and Military Measures

Yet the Jews of Persia did not rely solely on faith. They took practical steps to protect themselves. Similarly, in our complex world, we must blend hope with action. Here are some modern parallels:

●      Advocacy and Education: We combat ignorance with knowledge. Educating both Jews and non-Jews about our history, culture, and contributions helps dispel misconceptions. Advocacy organizations play a crucial role in countering anti-Semitism.

●      Community Unity: Like the Jews of Persia, we must stand together. Our strength lies in unity. When anti-Semitism rears its head, we must respond as a cohesive community, amplifying our voices.

●      Political Engagement: We engage in the political arena, advocating for policies that promote tolerance, inclusivity, and justice. Our votes matter; they shape the world we leave for future generations.

●      Military Response: Just as the Jews of Persia protected themselves militarily, the IDF—guided by Hashem—defends the Jews of Israel. The bravery and morality of the IDF are unparalleled. We have witnessed open miracles—from protection against hundreds of missiles to bombs failing to detonate in crowded areas.

The IDF: Defending Our Existence with Unprecedented Ethics

The Israel Defense Forces (IDF) embody the fusion of faith and action. Their mission extends beyond military defense; they uphold ethical warfare even when facing a barbaric enemy. Colonel Richard Kemp, former Commander of British Forces in Afghanistan, has stated that the IDF surpasses other armies in safeguarding civilian rights during combat.

Unparalleled Measures for Civilian Safety

• Advanced Warnings: The IDF takes extraordinary steps to warn Gaza civilians before striking. They drop millions of leaflets, broadcast radio messages, send texts, and make tens of thousands of phone calls. Imagine: Israeli soldiers personally calling Gazans, urging them to evacuate. No army in history has ever directly informed its enemy where bombs will fall.

• Risking Their Own Safety: IDF missions that could have neutralized Hamas military capabilities were often aborted to prevent civilian casualties. This self-imposed restraint increases risks for Israeli soldiers and citizens but underscores the IDF’s commitment to preserving innocent lives.

• Combating Misinformation: Despite these efforts, antisemites accuse Israel of genocide. Yet the truth is clear—the IDF fights not only to defend Israel but to uphold humanity.

• Feeding the Enemy: No other army in history has provided food, water, and fuel to its enemy—especially one actively seeking its destruction.

Drawing Inspiration from Haman and Purim

Haman was consumed by an insatiable void, an emptiness that ultimately led to his downfall. Yet his malevolence gave birth to Purim—a holiday where Jewish children joyfully drown out his name with groggers. Why? Because we refuse to be swallowed by darkness. Instead, we fight evil with light, filling voids with hope.

Our Miraculous Victory

We look forward to soon celebrating another miraculous victory—the defeat of Hamas and Iranian aggression, along with the safe return of our hostages. This triumph will not only mark the protection of the Jewish people but serve as a victory for the entire civilized world. It will symbolize our resilience against cruelty and barbarism.

Conclusion: A Call to Action

As we honor Purim, let us remember that our fight extends beyond borders. The IDF’s mission echoes through history: to protect lives, uphold justice, and bring light to a world often shrouded in darkness. May we draw inspiration from our ancient past and apply it to our present reality. May we remain unyielding in our identity, compassionate in our actions, and resolute in our pursuit of a world free from barbarism.

Shabbat: a pllar of Jewish identity and faith

Though this week’s Torah reading, Ki Tisa, is best known for the episode of the Golden Calf and its aftermath, it has some positive content too when it addresses the all-important mitzvah of Shabbat. Rabbi Paul Bloom explains.

This week's parsha, Ki Tisa, presents the mitzvah of Shabbat in a profound and unique light, offering insights that deepen our understanding beyond what has been previously discussed. Although the concept of Shabbat had already been introduced at Marah, reaffirmed at Har Sinai, and reinforced through the giving of the manna in Parashat Beshalach, Ki Tisa brings additional dimensions to its significance.

One striking feature in this parsha is the reference to Shabbat in the plural form: "Shabtotai" (שבתותי). The Torah could have used the singular form, yet it deliberately chooses the plural, hinting at a dual aspect of Shabbat that requires exploration.

Additionally, the Torah states, "Loda’at ki ani Hashem mekadishchem" (לדעת כי אני ה' מקדשכם), implying that Shabbat is not merely about observance but also about attaining a new mindset, a deeper awareness of our relationship with Hashem. It is through Shabbat that we gain an elevated understanding of our connection to the Divine.

The Ramban explains this duality of Shabbat as stemming from the two expressions found in the Aseret Hadibrot: "Zachor" (זכור) in the first set of commandments and "Shamor" (שמור) in the second. He elucidates that "Zachor" represents Ahavat Hashem (love of God), while "Shamor" signifies Yirat Hashem (fear of God). Observing Shabbat involves both dimensions: Yirah, expressed through the meticulous guarding of its sanctity, and Ahavah, reflected in the joy and positive remembrance of the day. This synthesis of love and reverence encapsulates the essence of Shabbat.

The Kli Yakar approaches the dual nature of Shabbat from a different perspective. He posits that Shabbat connects us both to the beginning of time—Ma’aseh Bereishit (the act of Creation)—and to the ultimate destiny of mankind—Ge’ulah Acharonah (the final redemption). Thus Shabbat serves as a bridge between the origins of existence and its ultimate fulfillment, offering us a glimpse of both past and future. This is symbolized in the korbanot of Shabbat, the "shnei kevasim" (two lambs), which reflect this dual connection.

Rashi, in his commentary, adds another layer of understanding, explaining that "loda’at" (לדעת) signifies that the nations of the world recognize the unique status of Shabbat as the defining covenant between Hashem and Klal Yisrael. Shabbat is our national hallmark, a distinction that sets us apart from all other nations.

The Kli Yakar further notes an interesting pattern in the structure of the Torah’s discussion of the Mishkan and Shabbat. The Torah dedicates six chapters to Hashem instructing Moshe regarding the construction of the Mishkan and another six chapters to Moshe relaying these details to Bnei Yisrael. However, there is a key difference between these two sequences: when Hashem commands Moshe, Shabbat is mentioned at the end, after the details of the Mishkan. Yet when Moshe conveys these laws to the people in Parashat Vayakhel, he first mentions Shabbat and only afterward discusses the Mishkan.

This reversal is significant. When Hashem speaks to Moshe, He first emphasizes the Mishkan, highlighting the presence of the Shechinah among Bnei Yisrael. Only afterward does He introduce Shabbat as an eternal covenant. In contrast, when Moshe addresses the people, he first underscores the importance of Shabbat before discussing the Mishkan, emphasizing that spiritual connection to Hashem takes precedence over the physical construction of the sanctuary. This distinction underscores a fundamental principle: while the Mishkan is a place of holiness, Shabbat is a time of holiness. The sanctity of Shabbat is intrinsic and unchanging, whereas the Mishkan, though sacred, is a physical entity subject to destruction.

This idea aligns with a well-known teaching from Chazal regarding the structure of various mitzvot in the Torah. The Gemara in Berachot (6a) discusses the reciprocal relationship between Hashem and Klal Yisrael, stating that just as we declare Hashem’s oneness in Kriat Shema, so too does Hashem "praise" Bnei Yisrael. This reciprocal recognition is reflected in the prioritization of Shabbat when Moshe speaks to the nation—emphasizing that before we engage in any physical construction, we must first acknowledge our spiritual foundation.

A parallel concept is found in the way we refer to Pesach. While the Torah refers to the holiday as "Chag HaMatzot", emphasizing our obedience in eating matzah, we commonly refer to it as "Pesach," highlighting Hashem’s kindness in passing over our homes during the plague. This linguistic distinction mirrors the relationship between Hashem and Bnei Yisrael—each side recognizing and honoring the greatness of the other.

In conclusion, Parashat Ki Tisa presents Shabbat not merely as a day of rest, but as a fundamental pillar of Jewish identity and faith. It encapsulates both Yirat Hashem and Ahavat Hashem, connects us to the beginning and end of time, and serves as an eternal covenant distinguishing Klal Yisrael from the nations. The contrast between the divine and human perspectives on the Mishkan and Shabbat further illustrates the profound significance of this holy day, reinforcing its centrality in our spiritual lives.

Mordechai: loved by not quite all?

The hero of Purim, Mordechai, slips quietly into the end of the long baraita at Avot 6:6 that enumerates the 48 qualities that facilitate kinyan haTorah—acquisition of Torah learning. Although in our tradition Mordechai was a Talmid Chacham of sufficient status to be counted as a member of the Anshei Knesset HaGedolah (“The Men of the Great Assembly”: see Bartenura at Avot 1:1), we don’t actually learn anything from him in his cameo appearance in Avot—he appears in a proof verse that praises Esther for telling Achashverosh, in Mordechai’s name, of the regicidal plot hatched by Bigtan and Teresh (see Esther 2:22). But Mordechai has a handy didactic role in helping us understand a curious mishnah in Avot

In Avot 3:13 Rabbi Chanina ben Dosa teaches:

כֹּל שֶׁרֽוּחַ הַבְּרִיּוֹת נוֹחָה הֵימֶֽנּוּ, רֽוּחַ הַמָּקוֹם נוֹחָה הֵימֶֽנּוּ. וְכֹל שֶׁאֵין רֽוּחַ הַבְּרִיּוֹת נוֹחָה הֵימֶֽנּוּ, אֵין רֽוּחַ הַמָּקוֹם נוֹחָה הֵימֶֽנּוּ

Everyone who is pleasing to his fellow humans is pleasing to God. But everyone who does not please his fellow men does not please God.

Rabbi Chaim Druckman (Avot leBanim) quotes the 14^th century Spanish scholar Rabbi Yosef Even Nachmias, whose explanation of this mishnah—which he heard from the mouth of Rabbi Yitzchak Melamed—has been preserved for us in Midrash Shmuel.

Rabbi Nachmias points to the famous verse in Megillat Esther (Esther 10:3) that bemoans the fact that even Mordechai—who saved the Jews of Persia from genocide—was unable to achieve total popularity:

כִּ֣י  מׇרְדֳּכַ֣י הַיְּהוּדִ֗י מִשְׁנֶה֙ לַמֶּ֣לֶךְ אֲחַשְׁוֵר֔וֹשׁ וְגָדוֹל֙ לַיְּהוּדִ֔ים וְרָצ֖וּי לְרֹ֣ב אֶחָ֑יו דֹּרֵ֥שׁ טוֹב֙ לְעַמּ֔וֹ וְדֹבֵ֥ר שָׁל֖וֹם לְכׇל־זַרְעֽוֹ

For Mordechai the Jew was second to King Achashverosh, and great among the Jews and in favour with many of his brothers, for he worked for the good of his people and spoke for the peace of his whole nation.

Says Rabbi Nachmias, look closely at the words of Rabbi Chanina ben Dosa. He talks of כֹּל שֶׁרֽוּחַ הַבְּרִיּוֹת נוֹחָה הֵימֶֽנּו (“Everyone who is pleasing to his fellow humans”). What he does not say is כֹּל שֶׁרֽוּחַ כֹּל הַבְּרִיּוֹת נוֹחָה הֵימֶֽנּו (“Everyone who is pleasing to all his fellow humans”). In other words, however popular you are, there will always be someone whose feelings will run to contrary effect. This is human nature. You do your best but, as secular wisdom succinctly expresses it:

“You can please some of the people all of the time, you can please all of the people some of the time, but you can’t please all of the people all of the time”.

God knows the truth of this aphorism and Mordechai experiences it.

If you don’t believe this, try an experiment. Go to your browser and search “most popular people in the world”. Your results will include the following:

• Barack Obama
• Elon Musk
• Justin Bieber
• Taylor Swift
• Jennifer Lopez
• Jeff Bezos
• Dwayne Johnson
• Beyoncé

Even allowing for the eccentricities of Google Chrome, how many of these people can you honestly say is pleasing to you? If your score is lower than 8, you’ve proved the mishnah’s point.

Megillat Esther: a story for every generation

The Megillah of Esther tells us that the commemoration of the days of Purim will continue for all time; it will never disappear from Jewish life. Extraordinarily, the Talmud expands this statement to mean that even at the end of days, when other Torah commandments may no longer be needed given the exalted state of spirituality within the Jewish nation and mankind as a whole, the commemoration of Purim will continue.

 Jews live a constant Purim story that unfolds through every generation. The story of Purim, as it has come down to us through the writings of Mordechai and Esther, is replete with individuals whose personalities and actions both define the story and serve as prototypes for the later personalities, ideas, plots and events as they evolve. 

Every generation is charged with reviewing the story of Purim in its time, to view contemporary events and characters in the light of the grand heavenly scheme that Purim represents. Surveying today's scene and events, I think that I can identify someone who can fill the bill as far as King Achashveirosh is concerned. I can also cast someone as a humble and destroyed Queen Vashti. There is also an abundance of tyrants, Jew-haters and corrupt officials who certainly resemble Haman in our reconstruction of the Purim story. Even some of the minor characters of the Megillah, such as Charbonah, can be discerned in our current world. But my fantasy Purim story has not, as yet, been able to match the two main characters, the heroic figures that make the story of Purim timeless and eternal.

 Who is to play the roles of Mordechai and Esther in our current Purim scenario? Where are they when, seemingly, we need them most? Against all odds, ignoring advice from friends and threats from foes, Mordechai will not kneel nor bow down to false gods and cruel tyrants. Queen Esther for her part risks life and limb, position and honor, wealth and comfort, to come to the aid of her people in their hour of need. She is a Jewess first and only secondarily is she the queen of Persia. These two people, Mordechai and Esther, have set very high standards for Jewish behavior for later generations. Criticized from within and persecuted from without, they persevered and through their loyalty and commitment to the Torah and the Jewish nation, brought about salvation and triumph.

 There are such people amongst us today as well. Our task is to recognize and identify them, strengthen them in their efforts and support them against misguided other Jews and non-Jews. We all have the ability to do this.

 It apparently requires dangerous circumstances to bring about some semblance of Jewish unity. Even then, there are always those who dissent, carp and criticize. They were present in Persia long ago when the original Purim story unfolded, and they exist today in various forms, organizations and institutions. They profess support for great human goals and deep concern for the future of the Jewish people while at the same time taking actions that are detrimental to the Jewish present and totally dangerous to the Jewish future. Mordechai and Esther are a little too Jewish for them: too brash, too stubborn, too clannish and unnecessarily provocative. Mordechai and Esther in their time did not receive universal approbation. It is only history, in its unfolding of events, that has validated their heroism. We cannot expect that people who aspire to be Mordechai and Esther in our time should be universally accepted, loved, admired…. and followed.

 This is a reality of Jewish and human life that must be accepted and factored into the general pursuit of that which is good and noble. Hidden miracles do abound in our world, for us at any rate. Anyone who has the good fortune of living in the Land of Israel today instinctively realizes this on a daily basis. Let us strengthen ourselves and be determined and strong as our current Purim story unfolds around us.

Purim same'ach, Rabbi Berel Wein