We are all God's servants: Behar-Bechukotai 5785

The book of Vayikra, which contains so many detailed commandments and minute  details of ritual, concludes with a general description of Jewish faith. It restates the original premise of Bereishit, that the earth and its inhabitants belong to God and are free agents as to the limits that God has imposed upon them.  The basic premise is that “the earth belongs to Me.” All the various laws of agriculture that apply in the Land of Israel are based on this simple declaration of the sovereignty of God over the domain where humans temporarily reside. 

We rage about asserting our ownership and build palaces for ourselves as though we will be their eternal tenants. It is this false assessment of life that leads to painful disagreements and dysfunction in families, communities and even in the relationship between countries and national entities. The power of self-grandeur unfortunately knows no bounds in the human psyche. The prophet mocks the Pharaoh of Egypt, who evidently thought that he created and controlled the Nile River. Our world is witness to tyrants who made, and still make, themselves into gods, to ascribe to themselves the power to dominate the lives of millions, and to threaten the destruction of millions of those who do not bow to their inflated will. The truth is that the closer one is able to come to genuine godliness, so to speak, the more one becomes humble by recognizing one’s true place and space in this world.  And that is the secret of attaining humility and which is ascribed to our great teacher Moshe. 

The Torah also limits the control we have over of the lives of others.  The Lord informs the Jewish people that they are His servants. Nevertheless, people have somehow convinced themselves that they are entitled to control the lives of others. Perhaps this arises from the necessity of parents to raise their children to adulthood. Yet the economic system that currently governs our lives allows little room for consideration of the needs of others. Human lives are unfortunately secondary to the almighty bottom-line and this affects the entire balance of society generally. 

If we would only realize that we are all God’s servants, the humbling effect of that realization should make life easier for everyone. A realistic assessment of the limits of human power is one of the basic lessons of Judaism. Of course, human beings are able to accomplish great things—and this is the story of the advancement of human civilization throughout the millennia. It is the balance of this aspiration and the human drive for greatness, coupled with the humble recognition of our limitations, which the Torah wishes us to achieve. Care and concern for others, an appreciation of God’s ownership of the earth and a belief in the guardianship of God over the land and its people are the key ingredients, in the Torah’s view, of the Jewish future. And that is a basic understanding of the lesson that the Torah and this week’s parsha teaches us. 

Shabbat shalom, Rabbi Berel Wein                       

Last year, Behar and Bechukotai were read on separate Shabbatot. This is what Rabbi Wein wrote about Behar for 5784 -- and here's his devar Torah on Bechukotai.

Examining one's motives: do we live in a binary world?

Continuing our series of erev Shabbat posts on the perek of the week, we now turn to a mishnah from Perek 5.

There is a strange mishnah at Avot 5:21:

כָּל הַמְזַכֶּה אֶת הָרַבִּים, אֵין חֵטְא בָּא עַל יָדוֹ, וְכָל הַמַּחֲטִיא אֶת הָרַבִּים, אֵין מַסְפִּיקִין בְּיָדוֹ לַעֲשׂוֹת תְּשׁוּבָה. מֹשֶׁה זָכָה וְזִכָּה אֶת הָרַבִּים, זְכוּת הָרַבִּים תָּלוּי בּוֹ, שֶׁנֶּאֱמַר: צִדְקַת יְיָ עָשָׂה, וּמִשְׁפָּטָיו עִם יִשְׂרָאֵל. יָרָבְעָם בֶּן נְבָט חָטָא וְהֶחֱטִיא אֶת הָרַבִּים, חֵטְא הָרַבִּים תָּלוּי בּוֹ, שֶׁנֶּאֱמַר: עַל חַטֹּאות יָרָבְעָם אֲשֶׁר חָטָא, וַאֲשֶׁר הֶחֱטִיא אֶת יִשְׂרָאֵל

Whoever causes the community to be meritorious, no sin will come by his hand. But anyone who causes the community to sin is not given the opportunity to repent.

Moses was meritorious and caused the community to be meritorious, so the community's merit is attributed to him; as it says: "He did God's righteousness, and His laws with Israel" (Devarim 33:21). Jeroboam the son of Nevat sinned and caused the community to sin, so the community's sin is attributed to him, as it says: "For the sins of Jeroboam, which he sinned and caused Israel to sin" (I Melachim 15:30).

Let’s leave aside the issues of what the verses cited in support of this teaching actually prove, and why the first of the two does not even refer to Moses, and move on to another point, one that our Sages discuss. They ask: when the mishnah says, of the person who makes the community meritorious, “no sin will come by his hand”, to whose sin does this refer? Is it the person who benefits the community who is saved from sinning—or is it the community itself?

R' Shimshon Raphael Hirsch mentions both possible readings and treats them as being valid, as does R’ Abraham J. Twerski (Visions of the Fathes). Some commentators opt for the latter since this is the reward that the community gets for following the example of its righteous leader. R’ Avraham Azulai (Ahavah beTa’anugim) gives the example that, when the leader performs an act which is normally forbidden  but for which he has a heter (permission), it will not happen that others, watching him, will perform the same act in breach of halachah. The Meiri argues however that it must mean the leader, since he should not go to Gehinnom when he dies while his community relishes the joys of the Garden of Eden. R’ Yitzchak Magriso (Me’am Lo’ez) supports this view, which originates with Rambam.

Now here’s a fresh perspective on this Mishnah, based on an idea of Maharam Shik.

Looking generally at people whose actions benefit the community, we can divide them into two camps. There are those who act this way because they love God and are motivated by their love for Him to do His will by assisting His creations to keep on the right path. There are also those who are motivated by love for their fellow humans, with whom they empathise and deeply wish to elevate to heightened standards of behaviour towards God and man.

What is the significance of this distinction? Perhaps it offers a key to unlock the answer to our question above. We can say that, where a person is driven by love for God, it is he who will not be caused to sin in the process of helping others. However, where a person seeks to help others because of his love for them, it is they who will not be led into the grasp of sin.

In reality we do not live in a binary world in which everything is either-or. There is no reason why a person cannot be motivated both by love of God and by love of one’s fellow humans. Indeed, when it comes to either seeking to acquire Torah learning (Avot 6:6) or to learning Torah for its own sake and without any ulterior motive (Avot 6:1), the paradigm figure is one who loves both God and His creations.

Caught on camera: The Wonders of Jerusalem

Our member Heshy Engelsberg has produced a veritable library of YouTube videos that display the beauties and the wonders of Israel. Since making Aliyah he has travelled extensively around the country, his eyes ever open to the sights that uniquely reflect the land that Hashem has given to us.

With Yom Yerushalayim coming up next Monday, here’s a selection of videos Heshy has made of our capital. To watch them, just click the title you desire! Sample them at your leisure and enjoy the view! Oh, and you can also enjoy the soundtrack—and sometimes even sing along with it.

Gan Sacher

Heichal Shlomo, Museum of Jewish Art

Italian Museum and Synagogue

Jerusalem Biblical Zoo

Kidron Valley

Lag BaOmer on Ben Yehudah

Mamilla Mall

Night Vision (Jerusalem by Night)

Old City

Old City Gates and their surroundings

Sanhedria

Western Wall and Tunnel Bridge Tour

Yad Vashem: the Jewish Holocaust Memorial

If you like what you see, don’t forget to click the ‘like’ icon!

Cheesecake on Shavuot

Over the decades our member and cookery expert Juliette Rothschild has cultivated a deep and meaningful understanding of the art of the cheesecake.  This is her take on the topic:

Successful cheesecakes

The techniques for making luscious cheesecakes are simple to master. Make sure all ingredients are at room temperature. They will mix more easily and the finished cake will have a smoother texture. Combine the cream cheese or ricotta and eggs thoroughly before adding any liquid extracts, heavy cream, or sour cream. Lumps are impossible to remove once the liquid ingredients that thin the batter have been added. The paddle attachment of an electric mixer is ideal for mixing the batter. Regular whipping beaters incorporate too much air into the batter, which can lead to cracks in the finished cake. Also, if too much air is worked into the batter, the cake will be less creamy. If you must use regular whipping beaters, set the mixer at low or medium-low speed so only a minimum amount of air is whipped into the batter.

Fold in whipped cream and beaten egg white with a wire which or a rubber spatula. Fold gently and slowly, taking care not to deflate the volume of the whipped ingredients.

Always use regular cream cheese for cheesecakes, unless the recipe says otherwise.

Cheesecake bases are generally made from cookie crumbs mixed with softened or melted margarine or butter. Although many recipes call for graham cracker crumbs, almost any cookie will do, including cream-filled sandwich cookies. To crush the cookies, either grind them in a food processor fitted with the metal blade, or place them in a plastic bag and crush them with a rolling pin.

Cracks in the surface can occur because cheesecakes release a considerable amount of steam while they bake and during cooling time. Too much steam released to quickly causes the cheesecake to creak. Extremes of temperature can also lead to surface cracks. That is why baking temperature for cheesecakes are relatively low, and bakers are warned not to set cheesecakes in cold or drafty places to cool. If possible, cool the cheesecake in a turned-off oven. Use a wooden spoon to keep the door slightly ajar. Deep cracks mean the egg white structure has collapsed, more like a pudding than a cake. Shallow cracks often occur despite all efforts to prevent them. Accept them as part of a cheesecake’s home-baked charm or cover them with fruit.

You can try Juliette’s absolutely best cheesecake for yourself. The recipe is here: https://bkhanassi.blogspot.com/p/the-absolutely-best-cheese-cake.html

Sefirat HaOmer and God’s Sapphire: The Journey from Story to Splendor

Here, citing a shiur which he heard from Rabbi Kimche, Rabbi Paul Bloom tells of a transformative path that leads from Pesach to Shavuot, via the counting of the days of the Omer.

In Psalm 90, Moshe Rabbeinu beseeches God: "Limnot yameinu kein hoda, v'navi l'vav chochma" – “Teach us to number our days, so that we may gain a heart of wisdom.” There is profound depth in this seemingly simple request. What does it truly mean to "number our days"? Why is it considered the path to wisdom?

One mitzvah in particular embodies this principle: Sefirat HaOmer, the counting of the Omer. Spanning from Pesach to Shavuot, these 49 days are far more than a calendar transition. They represent a spiritual journey—an ascent from redemption to revelation, from physical freedom to spiritual fulfillment.

This transformative path is echoed in one of Judaism’s most ancient mystical texts, the Sefer Yetzirah. Older even than the Zohar, this enigmatic work is traditionally attributed to Avraham Avinu and is referenced in the Zohar itself. Though deeply cryptic in its language, Sefer Yetzirah opens with a powerful conceptual triad that illuminates the Omer journey: Sefer (book), Sippur (story), and Sefirah (counting)—all rooted in the same Hebrew letters.

Sefer – The Book

The Torah is not only a legal or spiritual code; it is a book, a sefer, in the deepest sense. It is the foundational narrative of the Jewish people. As Rabbi Jonathan Sacks z”l so eloquently described in A Letter in the Scroll, every Jew is a letter in that sacred book. We are not isolated individuals but part of an eternal story—one that began at Bereishit and continues through each of us. The sefer gives us identity and continuity. It anchors us to our people and our purpose.

Sippur – The Story

From Sefer emerges Sippur—the telling of the story. This is especially evident on Leil HaSeder, when we recount the Exodus in vivid detail. Telling the story isn’t just educational; it is existential. When we tell our story, we realize we are in the story. The narrative of Am Yisrael is our own narrative. It gives our lives context, dignity, and direction.

Sefirah – The Counting

Next comes Sefirah, the act of counting. The Omer count is not a mere tally of days. It reflects a growth mindset, a structure of spiritual development. The process transforms us. Unlike those who wander through life aimlessly—like slaves who cannot distinguish one day from the next—those who count their days live with intention. They know they are moving somewhere.

Each of the 49 days corresponds to a particular spiritual attribute (midah) in the Kabbalistic system: from chesed (kindness) to gevurah (strength), tiferet (beauty), and beyond. The count is a ladder of refinement, preparing us for the ultimate gift: Kabbalat HaTorah.

Sapir – The Sapphire

The culmination of this journey is Shavuot, the day we stood at Sinai. In that awe-inspiring moment of revelation, the prophet Yechezkel beheld a mystical vision of God’s throne: "Ke’mar’eh even sapir"—"like the appearance of sapphire stone" (Yechezkel 1:26). This brilliant sapphire represents radiance, divine clarity, and transcendent beauty. It is the ultimate vision of godliness, the destination of our spiritual ascent.

Here lies the symmetry: from sippur to sefirah to sapir. The sefer gives us our story, the sippur allows us to own it, the sefirah guides our daily growth, and the sapir is the sublime presence of God revealed at Sinai.

Conclusion

To count our days is to give them meaning. To live in time is to live with purpose. From the story of our past, through the structure of our days, to the divine radiance of revelation—we journey through Sippur, Sefirah, and ultimately Sapir.

As we count the Omer, let us remember: we are letters in the book, voices in the story, and seekers of the Sapphire.

How our holidays teach us history: Emor 5785

The Torah reading this week includes a review of the holidays of the Jewish calendar. The list of holidays is recited several times in the Torah. We find it in the book of Shemot and again in the books of Bamidbar and Devarim, as well as here in our reading in the book of Vayikra. Since there are no needless repetitions in the holy text of the Torah, commentators over the ages have offered many varied explanations as to why this calendar is repeated.

A closer examination of the context and background to each of these holiday listings can offer us an insight and historical overview as to the import of the regular festive seasons of the Jewish people. In each place where the Torah outlines these occasions, a specific textual background is affiliated with it. There is no mere repetition of the same ideas. Rather, they offer us an indication of the multilayered nuances that these special days seek to impart to the Jewish people throughout its history. Each reference to the holidays contains a particular message for a particular event that occurred, or will occur, during the long saga of the Jewish story. It is an understanding of this alliance of text and historical overview that makes these portions of the Torah so important and relevant to us, more than three millennia after they were written down for us by our teacher Moses.

But the context of these festivals is also relevant according to the personal lives and experiences of its celebrants. In this week's reading, the holidays are attributed to the commemorations and celebration of specific historical events once the Jewish people reside in the land of Israel. There are agricultural innovations and references to seasonal climate that place these holidays in a geographical context. The Jewish people have a natural existence only when they are in the land of Israel. Accordingly, even though the Torah’s first reference to them allows us to celebrate the holidays no matter where we live and no matter what time-frame we are consigned to, this second reference in our reading places it within the framework of the Jewish people as inhabitants of the land of Israel, attached to its land and its traditions.

We also read of the Torah holidays in the book of Bemidbar. There, the backdrop relates to the offerings of the particular sacrifices in the Temple that were to be brought upon the date of each holiday. This reading concentrates on the Temple service associated with each festival, and not necessarily with the reason for its existence in the first place. The final reference in the book of Devarim seems to sum up all the previous references: its backdrop is the Temple, the land of Israel and the explanation of the days on which each holiday is to be commemorated. Thus, the combination of all these references makes our calendar eternal and valid in all places and for all times and allows us to celebrate the commandments that the festivals bring with them in joy and good purpose.

Shabbat shalom, Rabbi Berel Wein

Judging by appearances

 Continuing our series of erev Shabbat Pirkei Avot posts on the perek of the week, we now turn to a mishnah from Perek 4.

Judging by appearances—it’s something we all do. But should we? Rabbi Meir forces us to consider if we should, at Avot 4:27:

אַל תִּסְתַּכֵּל בְּקַנְקַן, אֶלָּא בְּמַה שֶּׁיֶּשׁ בּוֹ, יֵשׁ קַנְקַן חָדָשׁ מָלֵא יָשָׁן, וְיָשָׁן שֶׁאֲפִילוּ חָדָשׁ אֵין בּוֹ

Don’t look at the vessel, but at what’s inside it. There are new vessels that are filled with old wine, and old vessels that don’t contain even new wine.

Rabbi Meir is not merely talking about wine. He is referring to every occasion on which we let ourselves be guided by superficial impressions. But is he being realistic?

We live in a world where appearances are important. If a person wears a police uniform or a soldier, we immediately determine that person’s role and, often, their rank or status. We assume that charedi garb or hippie get-up are measures of their wearer’s religious or cultural preferences. Daniel Kahneman (Thinking, Fast and Slow) argues that reliance on these snap assessments is the only way to navigate life in a world such as ours which is laden with messages and constantly changing situations.

But Rabbi Meir enjoys support too. The popular rock number by Bo Diddley, “You can’t judge a book by the cover”, has been performed or recorded on countless occasions by artistes as distinguished as The Rolling Stones since its release in 1962. Another song, “The cover is not the book”, is known to a new generation of children following the release of the “Mary Poppins” movie in 2018. Going back to earlier times, Rambam summarises (Mishneh Torah, Hilchot De’ot 5:9) the way a Torah scholar should appear in public, raising the implication that anyone who confirms to these norms will be judged as one.

Taking things at face value is an impressively powerful marketing tool. Toothpastes, for example, never seem to deliver the same set of sparkling white teeth as the model who appears on the promotional material. But that is only a fraction of the reality with which we live. Who has not purchased a large packet of breakfast cereal or a bloated bag of so-called artisan chips/crisps, only to find that much of it is empty? Or, in the world of pascal gastronomy, bought a manufactured product bearing a label that proclaims kasher lePesach in large print and the words le’ochlei kitniyot in print so small you need a microscope to read it. We do judge the container, but the product can so easily let us down.

There is another aspect to judging by appearance, a rather more sinister one. At many junctures in the long, hard history of Jewish life in the Diaspora, we have been required to wear distinctive and sometimes deliberately degrading clothes or badges so that non-Jews can instantly and without inquiry ascertain our religious status. Can we learn anything from this? Perhaps we can say that, just as we can’t judge wine by looking at the vessel (or, in modern parlance, by reading the label on the bottle), we should not impose external appearances on others where the effect is to humiliate them or to deny their individuality.