Consent and Coercion

It seems strange that the Bnei Yisrael should be affirming their commitment to acceptance of the Torah yet again, having already said they would accept it--and even stranger that a midrash should teach us that there was an element of coercion in what appears to be an act of free will. But what do the words Na'aseh v'Nishma really mean? Our member Rabbi Paul Bloom offers an array of six explanations.

In parshat Yitro, which we leined last week, we learned that Bnei Yisrael stood at the foot of Har Sinai, prepared to receive the Torah. This was the pivotal moment when, having been asked to give their consent, they expressed their willingness to accept Hashem’s commandments.

In this week's parshah, Mishpatim, we encounter their famous declaration: "Na’aseh v'Nishma"—"We will do, and we will listen”—yet Chazal point out an element of coercion in this acceptance. The Midrash teaches that Hashem held Har Sinai over them like a barrel and declared, “If you do not accept the Torah, this will be your burial place.” How do we reconcile this with their seemingly voluntary acceptance of the Torah? On one hand, Bnei Yisrael willingly proclaimed their commitment; on the other hand, they were seemingly forced into it.

This moment was not just about Bnei Yisrael accepting the Torah—it was about their transformation into Am Hashem, the nation uniquely tasked with carrying Hashem’s values throughout history. To fully appreciate this, we must delve into the profound meaning behind "Na’aseh v'Nishma."

Six Interpretations of "Na’aseh v'Nishma"

1. Unconditional Commitment (Talmud, Shabbos 88a). The simplest understanding, found in the Gemara, is that Bnei Yisrael declared their commitment to fulfill Hashem’s commandments even before fully understanding them. This highlights an essential principle in Avodat Hashem: the mitzvot contain infinite depth, but performance should never be conditional on our comprehension. We begin observing mitzvot at the age of Bar/Bat Mitzvah, trusting that understanding will come with time. This concept is symbolized by putting on Tefillin Shel Yad (representing action) before Tefillin Shel Rosh (representing understanding).
   
   
2. Na’aseh for Mitzvot Aseh, Nishma for Mitzvot Lo Ta’aseh (Malbim). The Malbim explains that "Na’aseh" refers to positive mitzvot—actively performing Hashem’s will—while "Nishma" signifies our commitment to observe prohibitions and restrictions, i.e. negative mitzvot. This interpretation presents Na’aseh v'Nishma as a comprehensive acceptance of all aspects of the Torah.
   
   
3. Serving Hashem Without Ulterior Motives (Sforno). The Sforno emphasizes that Bnei Yisrael’s commitment was purely lishmo—motivated by love of Hashem rather than expectation of reward. While mitzvot bring both this-worldly and spiritual benefits, their ultimate purpose is to fulfill Hashem’s will simply because it is the truth.
   
   
4. A Desire for Continuous Revelation (Kli Yakar). According to the Kli Yakar, "Na’aseh" signified their commitment to the mitzvos they had already received, while "Nishma" expressed their eagerness to learn more. This reflects an intuitive recognition that there was still much more Torah to be revealed, and they longed to receive the entirety of Hashem’s wisdom.
   
   
5. Na’aseh as Torah Shebichtav, Nishma as Torah Sheb’al Peh (Or HaChaim, Rav Hirsch). The Or HaChaim and Rav Samson Raphael Hirsch suggest that "Na’aseh" represents acceptance of the Written Torah, while "Nishma" refers to the Oral Torah, which evolves through the interpretations of Chazal in every generation. This understanding combats the notion—espoused by reformers—that Torah Sheb’al Peh was a later human invention rather than divinely given at Sinai.
   
   
6. Two Distinct Commitments (Zohar, Beit HaLevi). The Zohar and the Beit HaLevi explain that "Na’aseh" represents a commitment to perform all mitzvot, while "Nishma" signifies a separate kabbalah—to engage in Torah lishmah, purely for its own sake. Thus Na’aseh v'Nishma embodies both action and immersion in Torah study as integral parts of Jewish life.

Why the Coercion?

If Bnei Yisrael had already accepted the Torah in multiple ways, why was coercion necessary? The Meshech Chochmah offers a profound insight: at Matan Torah, the revelation was so overwhelming that free will momentarily ceased to exist. The direct encounter with Hashem’s absolute truth left no room for doubt or choice. The world of free will was momentarily suspended. In this sense, the coercion was not a threat but a consequence of experiencing ultimate clarity.

However, after receiving the Torah, history resumed its natural state, requiring each Jew to continually reaccept the Torah in a world where free choice exists. Every time we open a sefer, we reenact Kabbalat HaTorah. Each mitzvah we perform is another expression of Na’aseh v'Nishma, reinforcing our role in carrying Hashem’s eternal wisdom forward.

May we all be zocheh to live a life imbued with the kedushah of Matan Torah and to continuously recommit ourselves to Hashem’s Torah with devotion and understanding.

Borer: it's your choice

 Last Sunday Rabbi Kenigsberg's Tzurba shiur started on a new book (volume 19) but an age-old topic--the melachah of borer, choosing an item and separating it from others. The previous volume concluded with an in-depth analysis of the classical case of borer (separating foods) which should fulfil the three conditions of miyad, beyad and ochel min hapesolet (the separation should be for immediate consumption, it should be done manually and should involve taking the food you want from the food you don't want).  

Volume 19 moves on to borer where non-consumables are involved: clothes, utensils and even books. Why, you may ask? Surely the first eleven melachot are only relevant min HaTorah to the various acts involved in growing and then processing the raw materials needed for the showbread! Why does Rashi take us further? Are we all at risk of breaking Shabbat when we burrow through the weekly pile of divrei Torah that await our attention in the entrance to the shul, looking for something to take our fancy?

Want to know more? You can enjoy Rabbi Kenigsberg's shiur by clicking here.

The courage of the convert: Yitro 5785

The Torah describes in detail the visit of Yitro to the encampment of the Jewish people in the Sinai desert, as well as the advice Yitro gives Moshe as how to organize the Jewish people’s justice system.  Though rabbinic scholars disagree as to whether Yitro came before or after the revelation and the giving of the Torah at Mount Sinai, they generally concur that Yitro remains the template and role model for converts to Judaism.

Why is this so? Yitro is sincere in joining the Jewish people and in abandoning the pagan gods that he had worshipped earlier in his life. He is also willing to give advice for the benefit of the administration of justice in his newly adopted community. New converts are frequently hesitant to counsel Jewish society. After all, the word “ger” (“convert” in Hebrew) has the connotation of being a stranger, an outsider, a mere sojourner and not yet necessarily a fully-fledged citizen. It is most understandable that such a person may feel reticent about offering advice to those who have been Jews for generations.

 Yitro’s boldness in asserting himself immediately by seeking to improve Jewish society is a testimony to his comfort level, sincerity and commitment regarding the Jewish people and its Torah values and strictures. That is why he is given so much respect and prominence in the Torah. Converts bring with them a mindset and range of experience quite different to that of Jews raised exclusively in Jewish society, a milieu that needs constant revitalization and freshness. Our Torah is eternal and ageless but our strategy for promoting and teaching it varies from time to time and from locality to locality.

. In Yiddish there is a famous phrase, “a guest for a while sees for a mile”, and it is so often the newcomer, the former stranger who has newly entered the fold of Judaism and Jewish society, who provides the spark of energy and innovativeness that ignites Torah Judaism and propels it to the next stage. It is no coincidence that the Gaon of Vilna is buried next to the grave of the Ger Tzedek – the righteous convert to Judaism in eighteenth century Vilna. The Gaon was an innovator, a departure from the other scholars of his time and even from many of those who preceded him. Converts on the whole – those who are sincerely attracted to Judaism and not influenced by other factors or are converted by ersatz methods and insincere and non-observant courts – are an inspiration to Jewish society and prompt them to progress further and accomplish more.

This is also an important lesson that we can glean from the events described in this week’s parsha. Proper treatment of the convert is mentioned thirty-six times in the Torah – more than any other commandment or value. We should take heed of this and assess the new convert correctly, not condescendingly.

 Shabbat shalom, Rabbi Berel Wein     

The Profound Structure of the Aseret Hadibrot

Among the many teachings of our faith, one of the most foundational verses in the Torah is

תּוֹרָ֥ה צִוָּה־לָ֖נוּ מֹשֶׁ֑ה מוֹרָשָׁ֖ה קְהִלַּ֥ת יַעֲקֹֽב

"Moses commanded us the Torah, an inheritance for the congregation of Jacob" (Devarim 33:4).

Moshe Rabbeinu, our greatest teacher, was the conduit through which the Torah was given to Klal Yisrael. Yet a deeper look into the words of Chazal reveals an intriguing nuance to this idea.

The Gemara in Makkot (23b) teaches that, while the Torah consists of 613 mitzvot, Moshe Rabbeinu directly taught us 611 of them. The gematria of  תורה is  611 . The other two mitzvot—the first two of the Aseret Hadibrot, "Anochi Hashem" and "Lo Yihyeh Lecha"—were heard directly from Hashem at Har Sinai. These mitzvot were so fundamental that no intermediary was necessary; Klal Yisrael experienced a moment of direct nevuah, an unparalleled revelation that became the cornerstone of our emunah.

The Singular Experience of Har Sinai

Parashat Yitro details the extraordinary moment when Bnei Yisrael stood at Har Sinai, experiencing the divine revelation firsthand. This event was unique and unrepeatable. The Aseret Hadibrot were not just laws; they were the foundation of an eternal covenant, a moment of spiritual elevation that bound the Jewish people to Hashem for all time. But why these ten? Why were these specific commandments chosen as the "headlines" of the Torah? What is their deeper structure?

The Structure of the Aseret Hadibrot

Rashi, in his commentary on Parashat Mishpatim, brings down a teaching from Chazal that all 613 mitzvot are embedded within the Aseret Hadibrot. Rav Saadia Gaon even developed a system demonstrating how every mitzvah in the Torah connects back to these foundational ten.

Various mefarshim, including Seforno, Rav Hirsch, and Ibn Ezra, highlight that mitzvot engage us on three different levels:

1. Machshavah (Thought/Belief) – Our internal convictions, such as emunah and yirat Shamayim.
2. Dibbur (Speech) – The sanctity of speech and how we express ourselves.
3. Ma’aseh (Action) – Physical deeds, from mitzvot like kashrut to donning tefillin.

The Ari HaKadosh notes that the very word "Adam" (man) is an acrostic for these three dimensions: Aleph (Emunah – Thought), Dalet (Dibbur – Speech), Mem (Ma’aseh – Action). The Aseret Hadibrot reflect this deep structure.

The Two Tablets: A Mirror of Human Existence

The Aseret Hadibrot are famously divided into two tablets:

• The first five commandments focus on bein adam laMakom—our relationship with Hashem.
• The second five address bein adam lechaveiro—our ethical conduct with others.

A fascinating pattern emerges within each group:

The First Five Commandments: Machshavah to Ma’aseh

1. "Anochi Hashem" – The foundation of emunah (Thought).
2. "Lo Yihyeh Lecha Elohim Acherim" – Rejection of idolatry, reinforcing belief (Thought).
3. "Lo Tisa Et Shem Hashem Lashav" – Proper use of Hashem’s name (Speech).
4. "Shabbat" – Observance of Shabbat through specific behaviors (Action).
5. "Kibbud Av V’Em" – Honoring parents, expressing gratitude for life (Action).

These mitzvot progress from pure belief (emunah) to speech (dibbur) and then to concrete actions(ma’aseh).

The Second Five Commandments: Ma’aseh to Machshavah

1. "Lo Tirtzach" (Do not murder) – The ultimate wrongful action (Action).
2. "Lo Tinaf" (Do not commit adultery) – Physical morality (Action).
3. "Lo Tignov" (Do not steal) – Ethical interactions (Action).
4. "Lo Ta’aneh L’Reiacha Eid Sheker" (Do not bear false witness) – Integrity in speech (Speech).
5. "Lo Tachmod" (Do not covet) – The final level, governing thought and desire (Thought).

The first set moves from thought to action, while the second set moves from action to thought, forming a perfect symmetry.

It is also interesting to note that Hashem's name is found in the first five commandments, but is not found  in the second  five.

A Map for Life

This structure is more than an intellectual insight—it is a blueprint for spiritual growth. The Torah teaches us that our avodat Hashem must be holistic, engaging our minds, speech, and deeds. In the realm of bein adam laMakom, our journey begins with belief and culminates in action. In the realm of bein adam lechaveiro, we begin with ethical behavior, progressing toward refining our very thoughts and emotions.

The Eternal Lesson

The revelation at Har Sinai was not just about receiving mitzvot; it was about internalizing emunah at its deepest level. The first two mitzvot, heard directly from Hashem, embedded within us an unshakable awareness of Hashem’s existence. The remaining mitzvot required Moshe Rabbeinu’s transmission and explanation, demonstrating the essential role of Torah sheb’al peh in our understanding of mitzvot.

Thus, we return to our original verse: "Torah tzivah Moshe, morashah kehillat Yaakov." The Torah is our inheritance, a gift from Moshe Rabbeinu. Yet, at its core, the foundation of all mitzvot—the recognition of Hashem—was given to us directly. This direct experience of divine revelation remains the bedrock of our faith, ensuring that Klal Yisrael remains forever connected to Hashem, through both our Torah and our ma’asim tovim.

Through the Aseret Hadibrot, we see the structure of mitzvot, the depth of Torah, and the profound nature of our relationship with Hashem and with each other. It is a lesson that continues to shape our lives, guiding us toward spiritual perfection and eternal connection to our Creator.

Never mind Peel, just look at the fruit!

As Tu b'Shevat approaches, we are delighted to offer you this piece by Rabbi Berel Wein.

I think that if we all stopped to contemplate the growth and success of the state of Israel in our time, we would truly realize that we are living in a miraculous age. Though the miracles are consistent and regular, oftentimes, perhaps even most times, we take them so for granted that the miraculous become mundane.

 One of the great miracles of the state of Israel is its agricultural industry. Israel has an arid, rock-filled landscape with very large patches of desert mixed in. It is not the lush landscape that exists in other parts of the world where agricultural industries bloom and prosper. Nevertheless, the prophets of Israel guaranteed that as part of the process of redemption and the Jewish return to its homeland, the desert would somehow bloom and the land would produce delicious fruits in abundance and variety.

 As late as a half century ago this seemed to be an unlikely dream that would never come to fulfilment. The original Jewish pioneers in the late 19th and early 20th centuries faced harsh and unforgiving challenges as they strove for the development of any sort of agricultural success.

 Climate, the earth itself, mosquitoes and malaria, the Arab marauders, and the lack of proper agricultural tools and training all conspired to make it almost a hopeless venture. But they persisted in tilling the soil, removing the rocks and eventually beginning to see the results of their labor and sacrifice. Their rate of mortality was high and many gave up on the project and returned to Europe. The hardy few stuck it out and eventually were rewarded with the miraculous success of their efforts.

Even so, there were grave doubts as to whether the land of Israel could ever feed the people of Israel. The main agricultural products were grapes, oranges and dates. The infamous Palestine Royal Commission (the so-called Peel Commission, under the chairmanship of Lord Peel, right) issued its learned conclusions in 1936 stating that the entire land of Israel – then Palestine under British mandate – could not support a population of greater than two and a half million souls.  As a result, it recommended the curtailment of immigration into the country at a time when Hitler was forcing the Jews of Germany to find refuge outside of the German borders. The recommendations of the Peel Commission led inevitably to the White Paper of the British foreign office that closed off Jewish emigration to the country for the next nine years, both during the Holocaust and its aftermath.

 It seemed that the conclusions reached by the Peel Commission were not far-fetched since food was scarce throughout this period in the land of Israel and of infinitely meager variety. When Israel gained its independence in 1948, for almost the next decade there were great shortages of food in the country, especially in the light of the doubling of its population in five years with the influx of the Jewish refugees from Europe and the Moslem Middle East.

 Food packages were sent from the United States to families throughout Israel to help supplement their meager diet. I remember how my father and mother scrimped and saved, often to my childish and foolish feelings of deprivation, in order to send food certificates to our Israeli relatives who could then redeem them for food packages in American warehouses located in Israel.

 But Israel struggled on in war and in peace. It developed a national water carrier that began to make the desert bloom. Its scientists and researchers developed new techniques, created drip irrigation and pioneered new methods of agriculture that began to make the country self-sufficient and plentiful in food and its varieties.

 In 1959, Moshe Dayan was the Minister of Agriculture. He introduced the planting of tomato vines into Israeli agriculture. The first year’s crop was hard, tasteless, and green in color, and understandably was not popular. The appreciative Israeli public nicknamed them ‘moishelach’ in honor of Dayan and his experiment. But soon the Israeli farmer developed the finest and tastiest tomatoes, as well as so many other types and of vegetables and fruits.

 Bananas, mangoes, kiwis and other fruits previously unknown to the Eastern European Jewish palette made their appearance and rapidly gained popularity. Israeli fruits and vegetables were produced in such abundance that a large export market developed and for a long period of time agriculture remained one of the mainstays of the Israeli export economy.

 All of this should be remembered by us as we commemorate Tu B’Shvat, a new year and holiday for the trees in the land of Israel. The prophecies long ago uttered by our holy sages have come true before our very eyes. What a blessed country the land of Israel truly is!

Something to sing about: Hava Nashira

Late last year, we posted this feature on the Dorot Choir, a popular Jerusalem-based women’s choir that is supported by many members of Beit Knesset Hanassi. Since then, we have been reminded that we have never featured a women’s choir that is even closer to home—the Hava Nashira choir.

Hava Nashira, originally named Kolot Simcha, was started in 2008 by Sandy Chesir and Reva Ehrlich—both members of Bet Knesset Hanassi. Joy Chesterman, also of BKH, was the conductor for many years. Sandy is still in the choir, along with several other long-time members of both Shul and choir.

Our current conductor, Temeema Weil, was taught piano by Joy, and remembers going from the home of her grandparents (Jenny and Max Weil) to Joy’s home in Diskin for her lessons. So the connections to BKH are close. We also participate in the annual Women’s League Tea.

Hava Nashira is run by Avelyn Hass, who adds:

We are a friendly group of women who love singing together, led by our inspirational conductor Temeema Weil. There is no formal audition, but a good ear for a melody and familiarity with musical notation are an advantage. We meet at no1 Diskin on Mondays, from 1.45pm to 3.15pm.

Our repertoire is a mix of popular Israeli, texts from Siddur and Tanach and folk songs from all over the world. If you have a favourite—just ask, we may be able to incorporate it.

Every rehearsal will send you home feeling invigorated and happy!

Are you interested in joining—or in booking Hava Nashira for an event? If so, call Avelyn on 054 447 2684.

Manna -- the miracle and the meaning: Beshalach 5785

The miracle of the manna that fell from heaven and nurtured millions of people for forty years is one of the focal points of this week’s parsha. The Jewish people obviously needed daily nourishment simply to survive. However, the rabbis of the Talmud injected another factor into the miracle of the falling manna. They stated that “the Torah could only have been granted to those that ate manna daily.” The necessity for the manna was thus directly associated with the granting of the Torah to the Jewish people on Mount Sinai. No manna, no Torah. Why is this so?

Most commentators consider that only a people freed from the daily concerns of earning a living and feeding a family could devote themselves solely to Torah study and the life values that acceptance of the Torah mandates. Torah is a demanding discipline. It requires time, effort and concentration to understand it. Neither cursory glances nor even inspiring sermons will yield much to those who are unwilling to invest time and effort in its study and analysis. This was certainly true in this first generation of Jewish life, newly freed from Egyptian bondage and lacking the heritage, tradition and life mores that would, in later generations, help Jews remain Jewish and appreciate the Torah.

The isolation of the Jewish people in the desert of Sinai, coupled with the heavenly provision of daily manna and the miraculous well of Miriam, together created a certain think-tank atmosphere. This atmosphere enabled Torah to take root in the hearts and minds of the Jewish people.  

In his final oration to the Jewish people, recorded in the book of Devarim, Moshe reviews the story of the manna falling from heaven but gives it a different emphasis. He states there that the manna came to teach that “humans do not live by bread alone but rather on the utterances of God’s mouth.”

To appreciate Torah, to truly fathom its depths and understand its value system, one has to accept its divine origin. Denying that basic premise of Judaism compromises any deeper level of understanding and analysis. The manna, the presence of God, so to speak, in the daily life of the Jew, allowed the Torah to permeate the depths of the Jewish soul and become part of the matrix of our very DNA. The Torah could only find a permanent and respected home within those who tasted God’s presence, so to speak, every day within their very beings and bodies.

The rabbis also taught us that the manna produced no waste materials within the human body. When dealing with holiness and holy endeavors, nothing goes to waste. No effort is ignored, no thought is left unrecorded in the heavenly court of judgment. Even good intentions are counted meritoriously.

Let us feel that we too have tasted the manna.

Shabbat shalom, Rabbi Berel Wein