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In this week's parsha, the Meor VaShemesh asks a deceptively simple question: why was Balak frightened specifically by what Israel did to the Amorites, and not by their defeat of Og, who was actually the more formidable king? And why did Moab and Midian, longtime enemies, suddenly decide to make peace with one another? His answer reframes the entire story. Balak understood something that many people miss. Israel's strength was not military. Their victories flowed from their achdut. Their love, unity, and mutual responsibility were the true source of their power. When Moab and Midian formed an alliance, they were trying to imitate what they saw. The Meor VaShemesh notes that the kelipah follows holiness like a monkey imitating a human. The imitation may look similar on the surface, but it lacks the real thing. To illustrate the point, he brings a striking story, one that carries particular weight because the Meor VaShemesh himself had served as shamash to the Rebbe Reb Elimelech of Lizhensk. Reb Zusha of Anipoli once asked his brother, Reb Elimelech, the secret behind his miracles. The answer was simple: the love and unity among the tzaddikim. That's it. That's the whole thing. The Meor VaShemesh then turns to the actual words used by Balak and Bilam. They weren't simply looking for different ways to say "curse." Each word reflected a different strategy. Balak sought to pull Israel down from the lofty spiritual level that protected them. Bilam aimed even deeper: to separate them from their source and cast them into a world of fragmentation and division. That is why God's response was so precise: "Do not curse the people, for it is blessed." The word "blessed" appears in the singular. Israel is connected to a level of divine oneness that transcends division itself. As long as they remain attached to that unity, there is simply no opening through which the curse can enter. Bilam's final attempt is fascinating. Since a Torah scroll contains no vowels, he sought to reinterpret God's own words, reading baruch as barach, "soft" or "weak," and thereby transform the blessing into a subtle curse. Even that failed. Along the way, the Meor VaShemesh also resolves a famous question about Moshe and Yehoshua. Why did the generation that witnessed the greatest miracles in history stumble repeatedly, while Yehoshua's generation remained far more steadfast? His answer is striking. Moshe was like the sun, too brilliant to look at directly. Yehoshua was like the moon, reflecting that same light in a form people could actually receive. Sometimes influence depends not only on the greatness of the teacher, but on the ability of the student to absorb what is being taught. Shabbat Shalom  

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Use this source sheet for further exploration of Parshat Balak, complete with footnoted sources and a concise, footnoted bio of R. Kalonymus Kalman Epstein (Ma’or Va-Shemesh) to enjoy this teaching at your own pace, perfect for self-learners. Prepared by Rabbi Shalom (Saul) Orbach The Ma’or Va-Shemesh is a classic Hasidic commentary on the weekly portions and festivals by R. Kalonymus Kalman Epstein of Kraków (1751-1823). A foremost later disciple, and for years the Shamash, of R. Elimelech of Lizhensk, he emerged after his rebbe’s passing as a leading figure in the fourth generation of Chassidut and of Polish Hasidism. His Torah blends close reading of the Psukim with mystical depth, emphasizing Dvekut, heartfelt prayer, joy, and sanctifying the everyday, with a hallmark leadership ethic: the tzaddik sweetens judgment into mercy and draws people close.

The Mystery of the Chok and the Mystery of the Rock In this week's parsha, the Ma'or VaShemesh develops two fascinating ideas. First, in his introductory piece about Parah Adumah, he suggests that even those commandments whose reasons seem clear and understandable ultimately contain depths that remain hidden from us. What appears revealed and accessible is, in a deeper sense, still beyond complete human understanding. In the main piece, he turns to one of the Torah's great mysteries: Mei Merivah and Moshe's encounter with the rock. Most commentaries focus on Moshe's actions and ask what exactly his mistake was. The Ma'or VaShemesh asks a different question: why were Bnei Yisrael so focused on Miriam's rock? His answer offers a profound lesson about faith, leadership, loss, and our tendency to confuse the channels through which blessing arrives with the true source of the blessing itself. Wishing everyone a peaceful and meaningful Shabbat. Re the Nispach: I reference it in the footnotes of the piece but you can decide whether to include it or not.  

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Use this source sheet for Chukat and this additional source sheet for further exploration of Mei Merivah, complete with footnoted sources and a concise, footnoted bio of R. Kalonymus Kalman Epstein (Ma’or Va-Shemesh) to enjoy this teaching at your own pace, perfect for self-learners. Prepared by Rabbi Shalom (Saul) Orbach The Ma’or Va-Shemesh is a classic Hasidic commentary on the weekly portions and festivals by R. Kalonymus Kalman Epstein of Kraków (1751-1823). A foremost later disciple, and for years the Shamash, of R. Elimelech of Lizhensk, he emerged after his rebbe’s passing as a leading figure in the fourth generation of Chassidut and of Polish Hasidism. His Torah blends close reading of the Psukim with mystical depth, emphasizing Dvekut, heartfelt prayer, joy, and sanctifying the everyday, with a hallmark leadership ethic: the tzaddik sweetens judgment into mercy and draws people close.

The Ma'or Va-Shemesh sees Korach's rebellion as far more than a challenge to Moshe's leadership. The root of Korach's error was separation. Onkelos translates "Vayikach Korach" as "Ve'itpaleg" ("he separated himself"), teaching that Korach tore apart realities that were meant to remain united. God created the world through different levels and attributes, but all are ultimately interconnected. The task of the righteous is to recognize distinctions while preserving their underlying unity. Korach failed by separating gevurah (judgment) from rachamim (mercy), emphasizing strict judgment and equality while rejecting the harmony that comes from integrating opposites. This explains why the Torah traces his lineage only to Levi and not to Yaakov, whose defining role is to unite opposing forces into a greater whole. The Ma'or Va-Shemesh then revisits the Mishnah's famous contrast between a dispute "for the sake of Heaven" and the dispute of Korach. Drawing on the teaching of the Noam Elimelech, he notes that the Mishnah does not describe the conflict as one between Korach and Moshe, but between "Korach and his congregation." The reason is that even within Korach's camp there was no true unity. Although they appeared united against Moshe, each person was pursuing his own interests, ambitions, and desire for honor. Their alliance was temporary and superficial. By contrast, Hillel and Shammai disagreed because they were jointly seeking truth. Their arguments endured because they were rooted in sincerity rather than self-interest. Finally, the Ma'or Va-Shemesh explains why Yaakov prayed that his name not be associated with Korach's rebellion. Yaakov represents the attribute of emet (truth). Had even a small measure of genuine truth been mixed into Korach's movement, the dispute might have gained strength and endured. Yaakov's prayer ensured that Korach's rebellion would contain no sustaining element of truth. As a result, the conflict quickly collapsed. The lesson is that the durability of a disagreement depends not only on the correctness of its claims, but on the motivations that lie beneath them. Disputes rooted in a sincere search for truth can endure and elevate; disputes driven by ego and personal ambition ultimately destroy themselves. Shabbat Shalom  

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Use this source sheet, complete with footnoted sources for Parshat Korach and a concise, footnoted bio of R. Kalonymus Kalman Epstein (Ma’or Va-Shemesh) to enjoy this teaching at your own pace, perfect for self-learners. Prepared by Rabbi Shalom (Saul) Orbach The Ma’or Va-Shemesh is a classic Hasidic commentary on the weekly portions and festivals by R. Kalonymus Kalman Epstein of Kraków (1751-1823). A foremost later disciple, and for years the Shamash, of R. Elimelech of Lizhensk, he emerged after his rebbe’s passing as a leading figure in the fourth generation of Chassidut and of Polish Hasidism. His Torah blends close reading of the Psukim with mystical depth, emphasizing Dvekut, heartfelt prayer, joy, and sanctifying the everyday, with a hallmark leadership ethic: the tzaddik sweetens judgment into mercy and draws people close.

Why send the spies at all?

The story of the spies in Parshat Shelach is one of the most perplexing in all of the Torah. G-d promises the Jewish people a land flowing with milk and honey. He takes them out of Egypt with signs and wonders, splits the sea, provides them with manna from Heaven, and brings them to the very edge of entering the Land. Then, suddenly, everything falls apart. The people ask to send spies. Twelve distinguished leaders are chosen. Ten return with a devastating report. The nation loses faith, the generation is condemned to wander in the desert for forty years, and entry into the Land is delayed. Yet one question has always lingered beneath the surface of the story: Why send spies at all? If G-d already knew what the spies would say, why agree to the mission? More fundamentally, if the Land had already been promised, what purpose could such a mission possibly serve? The Ma'or Va-Shemesh addresses this question through a careful reading of the text itself.

Rereading the text

Rashi famously explains the words "שלח לך" as "לדעתך" — "for yourself." G-d was not commanding Moshe to send spies; if he wished to send them, he could. But this is difficult to understand. The Torah seems to say exactly the opposite. G-d says, "שלח לך אנשים," and only a few verses later we read that Moshe sent them "על פי ה'." It sounds very much like a Divine command. Rather than simply reconciling the contradiction, the Ma'or Va-Shemesh begins looking closely at the language of the verses themselves. Why does the Torah use the word anashim, which can denote the minimum plural of two? Why the unusual phrase "איש אחד איש אחד"? Why does Moshe later emphasize in Sefer Devarim that it was the people who requested that spies be sent? And why, when Yehoshua eventually sends spies into the Land, does he send precisely two? Taken together, these details lead him to a striking conclusion: G-d didn't want to send twelve spies. He wanted to send two. According to the Ma'or Va-Shemesh, Yehoshua and Kalev were the only spies meant to be sent. The other ten were added only after the people insisted on expanding the mission, as Moshe later recalls in Sefer Devarim. This transforms the entire story.

A mistreatment of God's will

We generally understand the episode through Rashi's famous comment that G-d acquiesced to the people's request, allowing Moshe to send spies if he wished. The Ma'or Va-Shemesh agrees, but adds a crucial layer. G-d did authorize a mission, but only the mission represented by Yehoshua and Kalev. The expansion from two spies to twelve came not from G-d's instruction, but from the people's demand. The tragedy of the spies therefore did not begin when ten of them returned with a negative report. It began much earlier. It began when a mission intended to prepare the people for entering the Land became a mission intended to determine whether they should enter it at all. For the people, the spies were meant to answer the question, "Should we go?" For Yehoshua and Kalev, the spies were meant to answer the question, "How should we go?" According to the Ma'or Va-Shemesh, that distinction lies at the heart of the entire episode. It is a remarkable reading, one that emerges not from a homiletical flourish, but from a close reading of the verses in Shelach, Moshe's retelling of the episode in Sefer Devarim, and Yehoshua's own decision years later to send precisely two spies. Shabbat Shalom.  

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Use this source sheet, complete with footnoted sources for PArshat Shlach and a concise, footnoted bio of R. Kalonymus Kalman Epstein (Ma’or Va-Shemesh) to enjoy this teaching at your own pace, perfect for self-learners. Prepared by Rabbi Shalom (Saul) Orbach The Ma’or Va-Shemesh is a classic Hasidic commentary on the weekly portions and festivals by R. Kalonymus Kalman Epstein of Kraków (1751-1823). A foremost later disciple, and for years the Shamash, of R. Elimelech of Lizhensk, he emerged after his rebbe’s passing as a leading figure in the fourth generation of Chassidut and of Polish Hasidism. His Torah blends close reading of the Psukim with mystical depth, emphasizing Dvekut, heartfelt prayer, joy, and sanctifying the everyday, with a hallmark leadership ethic: the tzaddik sweetens judgment into mercy and draws people close.

The Ma’or VaShemesh on Parshat Beha’alotecha develops two seemingly separate themes, the lighting of the Menorah and the inverted נו״ן surrounding “Vayehi Binso’a Ha’Aron” (“And it was when the Ark traveled”), but beneath the surface both are exploring the same spiritual question: how closeness to God is created, sustained, lost, and restored. The piece begins with Aharon’s lighting of the Menorah. The Ma’or VaShemesh explains that the candles represent the souls of the Jewish people, and the role of the tzaddik (righteous spiritual leader) is to ignite those souls with love of God, Torah, and prayer. But the deeper challenge is not inspiration in the moment. People can feel uplifted in the presence of holiness, a great teacher, or a powerful spiritual experience, yet struggle to sustain that fire once the moment passes. That, says the Ma’or VaShemesh, is the meaning of Rashi’s comment that the flame must burn “ad she’tehei shalhevet oleh mei’eileha” (“until the flame rises on its own”). The true test of spiritual leadership is whether the encounter ignites something deep and lasting enough that it continues even after separation from the tzaddik. At the same time, the Ma’or VaShemesh insists that this ability comes specifically through humility. The Menorah is described as “mikshah” (“hammered from a single piece”), which he reads as a description of the true spiritual leader: someone who sees himself as small before God and deeply connected to every Jew. Selflessness here is not merely a moral quality of leadership, but its spiritual mechanism. Precisely because the tzaddik is not centered on himself, he becomes capable of transmitting something larger than himself and awakening it within others. The second half of the piece turns to the inverted נו״ן surrounding “Vayehi Binso’a Ha’Aron.” Here the Ma’or VaShemesh explains that exile, struggle, and spiritual concealment are real, but they are not signs of abandonment. God’s deepest desire is always closeness and kindness toward Israel. The inverted נו״ן represents moments when that connection feels disrupted or hidden, while Moshe’s prayer represents the possibility of restoring that connection and transforming דין (din, judgment) back into רחמים (rachamim, mercy). Seen together, both halves of the piece are describing the same spiritual drama: what happens when connection weakens, whether between a person and God, a student and teacher, or moments of inspiration and ordinary life, and how that connection can be renewed and sustained. The Ma’or VaShemesh ultimately suggests that true spiritual influence is measured not only by the intensity of the moment itself, but by what remains afterward. The role of the tzaddik is not merely to awaken inspiration while people stand nearby, but to ignite something lasting enough that it can continue to burn even through distance, struggle, and concealment. The challenge is not simply how to reach moments of elevation, but how to carry them into ordinary life, until the flame itself learns to rise on its own.  

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Use this source sheet, complete with footnoted sources and a concise, footnoted bio of R. Kalonymus Kalman Epstein (Ma’or Va-Shemesh) to enjoy this teaching at your own pace, perfect for self-learners. Prepared by Rabbi Shalom (Saul) Orbach The Ma’or Va-Shemesh is a classic Hasidic commentary on the weekly portions and festivals by R. Kalonymus Kalman Epstein of Kraków (1751-1823). A foremost later disciple, and for years the Shamash, of R. Elimelech of Lizhensk, he emerged after his rebbe’s passing as a leading figure in the fourth generation of Chassidut and of Polish Hasidism. His Torah blends close reading of the Psukim with mystical depth, emphasizing Dvekut, heartfelt prayer, joy, and sanctifying the everyday, with a hallmark leadership ethic: the tzaddik sweetens judgment into mercy and draws people close.