Arise, Shine!

The haftarah that goes with this week's Torah reading of parashat Ki Tavo, is drawn from Isaiah 60:1-22, is one of the best-known passages of prophetic comfort and consolation in the Bible. Opening with the words 

“Arise! Shine! For your light has arrived, and the glory of the Lord has shone upon you”, 

This haftarah continues with warm words of positive reassurance and effectively restores our relationship with God after the tumultuous, tortuous text of Ki Tavo’s tochachah. 

Our member and distinguished composer Max Stern, inspired by those words, has composed “Arise, Shine!”, played here by the Israel Philharmonic Orchestra. For a link to this piece,  click here.

Important message for music-lovers

In much the same manner as the dawn breaks, with the light creeping out by infinitesimal increments, this piece opens with a passage that is very, very quiet -- so much so that you might be misled into thinking that it hasn't begun at all. If you are a user of a hearing enhancement device, be sure to be wearing it and to switch it on, or the opening passage may escape you entirely.

Is this why your pet hates your friend?

 This post focuses on a mishnah from the fourth Perek of Avot--the second of the two perakim for this week.

Many cat- and dog-owners have wondered why it is that their domestic pet sometimes takes an apparently irrational dislike to of your friends or family members. You find wondering what was the problem: was the human in question using the wrong deodorant, or did that person give your animal a surreptitious swipe when you weren’t looking? Or is there more to it?

One person who clearly has no doubt as to the cause is Rabbi Yisrael of Kozhnitz. At Avot 4:5 R’ Yochanan ben Beroka teaches this:

כָּל הַמְחַלֵּל שֵׁם שָׁמַֽיִם בַּסֵּֽתֶר, נִפְרָעִין מִמֶּֽנּוּ בְּגָלוּי, אֶחָד שׁוֹגֵג וְאֶחָד מֵזִיד בְּחִלּוּל הַשֵּׁם

Everyone who desecrates the Divine Name in secret is punished in public. When it comes to desecration of the Name, it’s the same thing whether one does it negligently or deliberately.

Why are wrongful acts a desecration of God’ name if they are done in secret? No-one else knows about them. Or do they? In his Ahavat Yisrael, Rabbi Yisrael suggests that a Heavenly Voice proclaims that a desecration of God’s name has been committed.

There’s an obvious problem with this suggestion. If this Heavenly proclamation does take place, how come we never hear it. Rabbi Yisrael has an answer. The Heavenly Voice is actually silent, which is why we don’t hear it. It’s a heart-to-heart communication which we intuit through our feelings. Since it’s not a verbalized statement it can be both perceived and comprehended not just by us humans—if we are sufficiently receptive and sensitive—but by animals too.

Is this why your dog becomes aggressive or frightened when certain visitors turn up, and why your cat warmly welcomes some friends but keeps a frosty distance from others? There is no hard proof to demonstrate that this is so, and anecdotal evidence of instances where this has apparently happened can generally be explained by other means. Though, while stories of sapient animals discerning the good from the bad are the stuff of which much good fiction has been made, Jewish tradition is broad enough to embrace them: thus we learn how the donkeys of Rabbi Chanina ben Dosa and Rabbi Pinchas ben Yair refuse to eat food that had not been tithed or which had been stolen by their new owners (Avot deRabbi Natan 8:8; Bereshit Rabbah 60:8).

Perhaps the real message of Rabbi Yisrael’s understanding has nothing to do with Heavenly Voices at all. The point he seeks to make is that we should be more sensitive to the activities of our fellow humans and not ignore any warning signs and misgivings we may have about their honesty and probity. If this is so, we face the challenge of synthesizing it with Avot 1:6, which demands of us that we should judge others on the basis of their merits and give them the benefit of the doubt.

It's not easy to give -- or is it?

This week’s perakim from Avot are Perek 3 and Perek 4. The following piece discusses a mishnah from Perek 3.

The importance of tzedakah within the life of every Jew is fundamental. Embedded in Tanach and in midrash, it needs no proof texts here. But how far should one go in performing acts of charity? At Avot 3:8 Rabbi Elazar Ish Bartota sets the scene by suggesting that there is no possession in our hands that we can ringfence or regard as sacrosanct, and exempt from the mitzvah of tzedakah, since whatever we have we hold as trustees of God:

תֶּן לוֹ מִשֶּׁלּוֹ, שֶׁאַתָּה וְשֶׁלָּךְ שֶׁלּוֹ. וְכֵן בְּדָוִד הוּא אוֹמֵר: כִּי מִמְּךָ הַכֹּל וּמִיָּדְךָ נָתַֽנּוּ לָךְ

Give Him what is His, for you, and whatever is yours, are His. As David says: "For everything comes from You, and from Your own hand we give to You" (I Divrei Hayomim 29:14).

Here Rabbi Elazar Ish Bartota is only telling us not to be too fond of our worldly goods. Elsewhere in Avot, at 5:13, we learn that a person who says “what’s mine is yours; what’s yours is yours” is a chasid—someone whose kindness exceeds the usual norm. The two mishnayot operate in different spheres: one speaks to a person’s relationship with God, the other to that person’s relationship with other people. It is possible to agree with Rabbi Elazar Ish Bartota that everything comes from God, yet focus one’s generosity on inanimate objects such as the purchase of books or the procurement of a Sefer Torah, while contributing to neither public causes such as food kitchens for the poor, nor to the needs of individuals.

In life we can and do learn not just from what people say but from what they do. The Talmud supplies us with evidence that Rabbi Elazar Ish Bartota—who was not a wealthy man—was committed to helping his fellow humans. At Ta’anit 24a we learn how he was so generous with his assets that even the charity collectors would hide when they saw him coming.

As a contemporary slant on this ancient teaching, Rabbi Yisroel Miller (The Wisdom of Avos) adds a practical note:

“We live in an age of generational decline and verbal inflation. Whereas the term “mesirus nefesh” used to mean literally sacrificing life itself for Hashem (e.g. choosing death rather than worship idols), today the term is commonly used to praise anyone who gives up much time and comfort for Torah and mitzvos. Praiseworthy as such sacrifices are, Rabbi Elazar is saying that is can be made easier if we develop the attitude that ‘sacrifice’ is not actually sacrificing anything at all.

Imagine someone who truly thinks of their own bank account as belonging totally to Hashem. The Divine Owner graciously allows him to take whatever he needs, but asks him to generously distribute a portion to other needy people as well. With that attitude, giving tzedakah is not a ‘sacrifice’ but a naturally pleasant activity.

Such attitudes are not easy to develop, but many people adopt the stratagem of putting a percentage of every paycheck into a separate tzedakah account. Once deposited, it is no longer seen as ‘mine’ and is much easier to give away wholeheartedly”.

The fact that so many people today run charity accounts is a positive endorsement of the wisdom of Rabbi Miller’s words—though a cynic might comment that these charity accounts are generally tax-efficient, which makes it even easier to give one’s money away wholeheartedly.

Torah and History

Rabbi Wein ztz'l was renowned for his perspicacious comments on the State of the Jewish Nation and how important it is for us to learn the lessons of the past when boldly facing our future. The following post has been composed as a perspective on history in Rabbi Wein's honor, by Rabbi Steven Ettinger.

I am writing this piece three weeks after the funeral of our esteemed and beloved Mara d’Atra, Rabbi Wein. The day following this Shabbat we will be gathering to mark his sheloshim. I am limiting myself to just those two adjectives—esteemed and beloved—as there is a nearly endless fount of words and phrases that could be used to describe his accomplishments, abilities and impact. Like many of you, I attended eulogies, read articles about his life, listened to podcasts and viewed videos—entirely fitting insofar as these are all media that he mastered in order to communicate his teachings to millions.

So many others are better positioned to appreciate his essence and have a more intimate awareness of it that I will not even attempt to write anything about him. Instead, I will share a thought about this parashah of which Rabbi Wein, as a man of history, would most likely have been aware—and which I am sure he would certainly have appreciated.

The most noteworthy part of this parashah is the tochachah, the fearsome curses that would befall our people if they did not follow their covenant with Hashem (these curses have, in fact, befallen us, down to the most minute and sordid detail).

It is perplexing that, after forty years in the midbar and on the precipice of entering the Land of Israel, Am Yisrael would be subjected to having to hear and accept such a litany of horror. After all, their own parents were condemned to die as the result of a single sin. One midrash describes how, each year on Tisha b’Av, the entire nation dug graves and slept in them. Those who rose the next day knew they were spared, at least for another year. Thus they truly understood the consequences of failing to heed the word of God.

But the curses in our parashah were not directed at that particular generation: they were projected out towards history, and to a specific era of history.

This is the interpretation of a particularly shocking interpretation revealed by the Vilna Gaon. He declares that Sefer Devarim corresponds to the sixth millennium of world history. There are ten parshiyot in Devarim and each corresponds to a particular century (Nitzavim-Vayelech count as one). For example, Devarim corresponds to the years 1240-1340 (5,000-5100), Va’etchanan to 1340-1440 (5100-5200), etc. The years 1840-1940 would equate to Ki Savo – years filled with pogroms, the upheaval of World War I and the rise of Hitler and the Holocaust.

Of course, the Holocaust continued for five more years. These are alluded to in the parshiyot of Nitzavim-Vayelech which is our present era 1940-2040:

וַיִּחַר־אַ֥ף ה בָּאָ֣רֶץ הַהִ֑וא לְהָבִ֤יא עָלֶ֙יהָ֙ אֶת־כׇּל־הַקְּלָלָ֔ה הַכְּתוּבָ֖ה בַּסֵּ֥פֶר הַזֶּֽה׃

וַיִּתְּשֵׁ֤ם ה מֵעַ֣ל אַדְמָתָ֔ם בְּאַ֥ף וּבְחֵמָ֖ה וּבְקֶ֣צֶף גָּד֑וֹל וַיַּשְׁלִכֵ֛ם אֶל־אֶ֥רֶץ אַחֶ֖רֶת כַּיּ֥וֹם הַזֶּֽה׃

Hashem’s anger flared against the land to bring against it the entire curse that is written in this book. And Hashem, removed them from their land with anger and wrath and great fury and he cast them to another land, as this very day.

It should be noted that the gematria of בְּאַ֥ף וּבְחֵמָ֖ה וּבְקֶ֣צֶף גָּד֑וֹל is the same as הפתרון הסופי, the final solution!

Our Torah is not a history book. Our Torah is history. While we have lost perhaps the greatest guide to viewing and appreciating Torah in this light, we can honor his legacy by continuing to appreciate how the knowledge of our Nation’s past enhances our learning and our perspective on Hashem’s plans for His world.

Of emotions, memories and a sense of purpose

This piece, from the Destiny Foundation archives, was penned by Rabbi Wein ztz’l back in 2012—but its message is as fresh and relevant as ever.

Next week, selichot—the penitential prayers that are added to the weekday morning prayer service—are recited in the synagogue according to Ashkenazic custom. Sephardic Jews have been reciting selichot in their morning prayer services since the start of the month of Elul. There are different customs even within these two main groupings of Jews as to which particular penitential prayer is recited on which of the days preceding Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur. 

I have always been intrigued by the fact that most of the selichot prayers deal with the national angst and exile of the Jewish people rather than concentrating exclusively on the personal penitential aspect of the individual Jew who is actually doing the praying. Of course, many personal prayers are included in the selichot liturgy, but there is a strong focus on the plight of the Jewish people on a national and global scale—and this is expressed in terms that are powerfully emotive.  This is understandable since most of the selichot prayers were composed during the Middle Ages when the Jewish people, especially in Europe, found itself in desperate straits. Nevertheless, the emphasis on national troubles instead of personal failings carries with it a clear message about the reality of being Jewish. 

One’s individual fate and even the judgment of Heaven on Rosh Hashanah are inextricably bound to the general fate and welfare of the Jewish people as a whole. That is in reality the message of the book of Yonah that we read on Yom Kippur afternoon. Yonah knows that the storm that strikes the ship is because of him, so he answers his fellow passengers and shipmates who ask him to explain why these events are occurring with the simple words: “I am a Jew!” He sought to escape that reality but the Lord, by means of the storm on the sea, returned him to it. 

since the concept of selichot is, of necessity, national as well as personal, one cannot expect to survive spiritually and morally as a Jew by separating oneself from the Jewish people and its destiny. In effect, all those who deny their Jewishness, who substitute foreign ideologies and current political correctness for true Jewish Torah values, who are the first to raise their voices against the Jewish people and its state, who deny their Jewishness by assimilation and intermarriage, doom themselves eventually not to be heard and accounted for in the continually unfolding Jewish story. 

Someone who does not wish to share in the burden of the Jewish nation as a whole cuts the cord of Jewishness that grants one identity, self-worth and an overall purpose in life. The selichot prayers are so constructed as to be a retelling of the Jewish story and a declaration of fealty to Jewish destiny. In that context the selichot prayer services connect us to our Creator but also to the Jewish people in every generation, both past and future. 

There are many emotions that accompany the advent of the selichot season. Memories of past High Holy Day seasons, of generations that have passed on, of previous synagogue services and other venues of prayer, of childhood wonderment and of more mature seriousness and awe. These all flood our minds and hearts when the prayers of selichot are recited and the melodies of holiness are heard and sung.  The special quality of this time of the year, of anticipation and tension, of hopeful confidence combined with trepidation, is refleced in our attention to the immortal words of the prayer services. 

Every possible human hope and emotion is to be found in those words. I always have felt that the preparation for Rosh Hashanah should include a review of the texts of the prayer services beforehand so that one can savor the majesty and genius that lies embedded in the legacy of our prayer services. The selichot prayers come to us from Babylonia and North Africa, the Land of Israel and Spain, France and Germany, and Central and Eastern Europe. They cover centuries of Jewish life and creativity, piety and scholarship. 

They also record for us dark days of persecutions and massacres, of trial and testing, and of hope and resilience. Their prose/poetic style may oftentimes be difficult to understand and decipher but their soul and message of genius is revealed and obvious to all those who recite their words with serious intent. May the selichot season usher in a renewed sense of holy purpose in our lives and may we all be blessed with a good and happy, healthy new year.

War, Morality, and Marriage in the Torah’s Vision

This devar Torah, composed by our member Rabbi Paul Bloom, is based on a recording of a parashah shiur by Rabbi Wein ztz’l that was made seven years ago.

The Torah often presents us with passages that challenge our moral sensibilities, forcing us to confront difficult realities of human life and history. One such section appears in parashat Ki Teitzei, where the Torah addresses the case of the Yefat To’ar — the “beautiful captive woman.” The laws given here highlight a profound tension between the brutality of war and the values of Torah, between the raw instincts of human nature and the discipline demanded by holiness.

War and the Breakdown of Restraint

Chazal recognized that war unleashes forces that cannot always be contained. As the Torah states:

כִּי־תֵצֵא לַמִּלְחָמָה עַל־אֹיְבֶיךָ וּנְתָנוֹ ה׳ אֱלֹקיךָ בְּיָדֶךָ וְשָׁבִיתָ שִׁבְיוֹ. וְרָאִיתָ בַּשִּׁבְיָה אֵשֶׁת יְפַת־תֹּאַר וְחָשַׁקְתָּ בָהּ וְלָקַחְתָּ לְךָ לְאִשָּׁה
 (דברים כא:י–יא)

“When you go out to war against your enemies, and the Lord your God delivers them into your hands, and you take captives; and you see among the captives a beautiful woman, and you desire her, then you may take her for yourself as a wife.”

Rashi explains:

לא דיברה תורה אלא כנגד יצר הרע
 (קידושין כא ב)

 “The Torah spoke here only in relation to the evil inclination.”

The Ramban adds that the Torah permitted this not because it is good, but because in the chaos of war the yetzer hara is too strong, and without regulation, far worse sins would occur. The Torah, however, warns of its outcome:

וְהָיָה אִם־לֹא חָפַצְתָּ בָּהּ וְשִׁלַּחְתָּהּ לְנַפְשָׁהּ… לֹא תִתְעַמֵּר בָּהּ תַּחַת אֲשֶׁר עִנִּיתָהּ
 (דברים כא:יד)

“If you do not desire her, then you shall let her go free… you may not treat her as a slave, because you have afflicted her.”

The Gemara (Sanhedrin 107a) links Yefat To’ar to David and Avshalom, teaching that such concessions often plant the seeds of future tragedy. Radak notes that Avshalom’s rebellion reflected the instability born of David’s complex household.

Polygamy in the Ancient World

Immediately after Yefat To’ar, the Torah describes another case:

כִּי־תִהְיֶיןָ לְאִישׁ שְׁתֵּי נָשִׁים הָאַחַת אֲהוּבָה וְהָאַחַת שְׂנוּאָה…
 (דברים כא:טו)

“If a man has two wives, one beloved and the other hated…”

The Avot themselves lived in polygamous households — Avraham with Sarah and Hagar (בראשית טז), Yaakov with Rachel, Leah, Bilhah, and Zilpah (בראשית כט–ל). Yet the Torah shows us the tensions that arose from these unions. The Gemara (Bava Batra 16a) remarks: צרה כצרה — “The rival wife is a constant source of strife.”

The Ramban explains that the Torah places Yefat To’ar, polygamy, and the rebellious son together to teach us a chain: indulging passion leads to jealousy, and jealousy leads to broken families and rebellious children.

From Polygamy to the Ban of Rabbeinu Gershom

In the 10th century, Rabbeinu Gershom (Me’or HaGolah) of Mainz issued his famous ban:חרם דרבנו גרשום — forbidding polygamy in Ashkenazi communities.

Violators were placed under communal ban. Rare exceptions (heter me’ah rabbanim) were allowed in extreme cases, such as when a wife was incapacitated and unable to receive a get.

Radak, commenting on Elkanah’s two wives (I Samuel 1), observed that such arrangements almost always caused pain and jealousy, as with Chana and Peninah. The ban thus aligned with the Torah’s deeper vision: sanctity within marriage and peace within the home. Though Sephardic communities did not originally adopt the ban, the practice eventually disappeared. In modern Israel, while older polygamous marriages were recognized, new ones were forbidden — making Rabbeinu Gershom’s decree universally binding in practice.

Evolving Law, Eternal Values

The Torah does not idealize war or polygamy. Rather, it acknowledges them as concessions to human weakness while pointing toward a higher moral standard. The Ramban teaches that the placement of these passages is deliberate: Yefat To’ar → Polygamy → Rebellious Son. The Torah warns us that small compromises to the yetzer hara may lead to family breakdown and societal decline.

A Takeaway for Our Time

These passages remind us that the Torah is not an abstract code detached from life’s struggles. It recognizes human impulses, but it calls upon us to rise above them.

●      The Torah’s restraint on Yefat To’ar teaches that we must never sanctify passion simply because it feels inevitable; instead, we channel it with discipline and holiness.

●      The story of polygamy shows that family harmony depends on fidelity, equality, and compassion, not on multiplying options.

●      The ban of Rabbeinu Gershom demonstrates how halakhah evolves to reflect eternal Torah values in changing times, always striving for justice, dignity, and peace.

Ultimately, the Torah pushes us toward a vision of life where the home is built not on conquest or rivalry, but on faith, loyalty, and love.

Am Yisrael has always been called to live by higher standards, even in the most difficult circumstances. The Torah does not hide human weakness, but it teaches us how to transform weakness into strength, how to bring holiness even into the battlefield, and how to sanctify the bonds of family. In our generation, as the Jewish people return to their Land and rebuild their nation, these lessons carry renewed meaning. We are challenged to create homes of faith and compassion, to build a society guided by Torah values, and to serve as a living example of “כִּי הִוא חָכְמַתְכֶם וּבִינַתְכֶם לְעֵינֵי הָעַמִּים” — “for this is your wisdom and your understanding in the eyes of the nations” (דברים ד:ו). By striving for holiness in our private and communal lives, we bring closer the day when Israel truly shines as a light to the nations.

 

Torah and mitzvot -- nothing else will do! Ki Teitze 5785

Here is another piece left for us by Rabbi Wein ztz'l and which we are privileged to share.

Ki Teitzei contains the second most numerous count of mitzvot in the Torah, topped only by parashat Kedoshim in Chumash Vayikra. The commentators to the Torah discuss why these mitzvot that first appear in Ki Teitzei, all of which are ultimately derived from the granting of the Torah at Mount Sinai almost 40 years earlier, find their place in the Torah here in Moshe’s final oration to the Jewish people. Their approach to the issue differs.

Some say that since many of these mitzvot are related to war, settling the land, domesticated human life and the like, they reflect the impending life-altering change for the Jewish people as they shift from a miraculous existence in the desert to a more natural and normal lifestyle.  Soon they would be in their own land, facing all the changes and problems that such a radical shift of circumstances implies. Others merely say that this is an example of the Talmudic dictum that the Torah is not bound in its teachings and text to any narrative timeline; there is no chronological order to the Torah. Even though these mitzvot appear in writing here for the first time, they were essentially already taught to the Jewish people in the desert long before by Moshe. Other explanations can be found; all are valid and they are not mutually exclusive. 

If I may be bold enough to add my insight to this matter, I would say this: the Jewish people are about to become a nation and to establish their own government in the Land of Israel. They will have to fight many battles, bloody and painful, to establish their right to the Land of Israel and to establish their sovereignty over the territory that it encompasses. They will need an army, a civil government, a judicial system, an economy and labor force and all the other trappings that accompany nation building and establishing a territorial entity and effective government.

In the face of these demands they might think that they can discard the spiritual yoke of the mitzvot imposed upon them at Sinai. It would be easy to say that mitzvot were all very well in the Sinai desert, where no other demands were made on our time, energy and commitment. But with more pressing business at hand, perhaps the punctilious observance of mitzvot was no longer required. 

Moshe comes in this parsha, in the midst of his valedictory oration to the Jewish people, to remind them that mitzvot and Torah are the only effective guarantee of Jewish success and survival, even while they are engaged in building and defending Jewish sovereignty in the Land of Israel. Moshe in effect says to them: “Here are some more mitzvot—and they will help you succeed in building the land and preserving your sovereignty over it.” Moshe’s message is as germane to our time as it was to the first Jews who arrived en masse to settle in the Land of Israel thirty-three centuries ago.