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Be the Ruler!

By Rabbi Daniel Korobkin What is the definition of a true leader? At the beginning of the third essay of the Kuzari, this is the very question that R’ Yehuda HaLevi had the Khazar King ask the Rabbi, but in a circuitous way. The Khazar King asked: “Tell me how saintly Jews behave.” The Rabbi responded: “A saintly person is one who is concerned with his country. He provides all its citizens with their every provision and need. He leads them justly, does not oppress any one of them, and does not give to any one of them more than their rightful share. Thus, in his time of need they will come to his aid, and will rush to respond to him when he calls out to them. He can command them, and they will carry out his command; he can admonish them and they will accept his admonishment.” Puzzled with this response, the Kuzari challenges: “I asked you about a saintly person, not a leader!” The Rabbi’s answer is very telling: “The saintly person is a leader. All of his senses and attributes – both spiritual and physical – submit themselves to his command. He thus leads them just like a real world leader, as it says (Pr. 16:32), ‘He who rules his spirit is greater than one who captures a city.’ He has shown that he is fit to govern – that were he to rule over a country, he would preside over it justly just as he has done with his own body and soul.”

Appointing a king

In this light, it should not be surprising that a number of commentaries look at the Torah’s commandment to appoint a king over the nation (17:14-20) as a metaphor for appointing a ruler over oneself, a guiding principle that allows one to lead a life of discipline, dignity, and integrity. We’ll extract just a few points from Rav Chaim Vital’s extensive use of this metaphor. “When you come into the [Promised] Land…” There comes a point when we reach a certain age of maturity, that moment in your life when you realize you need to get serious and put aside all the distractions and entertainments of your youth. You will have “arrived” at the place you need to be in order to make important life decisions. “You will say, I shall appoint a king over myself, like all the nations around me.” You notice that your peers have started to get serious about life. Each one has immersed himself or herself into something that preoccupies the majority of their waking life, whether it be their job, raising a family, or some other pursuit. You will realize that it’s time for you to create structure and a life plan for yourself as well. Here the Torah admonishes us that we must choose our “king” wisely: “Appoint a king over yourself, one that Hashem selects for you. He must be from among your brethren, and you may not place a foreigner over yourself.” That is, there are many choices to make in deciding how you would like your life to be structured. Make sure that you choose the proper overarching principle that will guide your life decisions. That life code, or “king,” must be endorsed by Hashem, because it conforms to the values contained in the Torah. Don’t look at others’ choices, since their playbook may not be from the Torah. Don’t adopt a foreign value system, not “from your brethren,” to be the guiding principle of your life.

The king and his possessions

The Torah then commands the king to not have too many physical assets, and identifies three specific accumulations that the king must avoid: “He shall not amass too many horses… too many wives… too much gold and silver….” G-d is telling us: Even when you choose the right “king,” in that you have committed to live a life of Torah observance, this does not guarantee that your life will always be on the correct trajectory. It is possible to live a “frum” life that is distorted by too much of the following: (1) “Too many horses” refers to fun activities. Even Orthodox Jews love taking vacations, playing games, and other recreational activities. When done in moderation, that’s fine. But don’t overdo it, and don’t make those moments the main focus of your life. (2) “Too many wives” refers to physical indulgences, even with your own spouse, or even when everything is glatt kosher. Eat to live, don’t live to eat at the fancy destination restaurant, for example. (3) “Too much gold and silver” doesn’t need any additional interpretation. Be happy with what you have and don’t obsess over accumulating additional wealth. “Who is wealthy? He who is happy with his lot” (Avos 4:1).

The king and a life of Torah

“When he ascends the throne, he shall write for himself a Mishneh Torah on a scroll, in the presence of the Kohanim.” The term “Mishneh Torah,” literally, a Torah of study, means a Torah that one can absorb and apply to their own life. Make sure the Torah you study has practical applications to you and is formulated and filtered in a language that speaks to you. Study that Torah in the presence of the “Kohanim” of your generation, the teachers and rabbis whom you respect, who will help guide you in applying the Torah’s teachings to your life. “It shall be with him and he shall read from it all the days of his life…” Whatever you end up doing in life, whatever profession or vocation you choose, make sure that each and every day has some time carved out for Torah study. Whether it’s the Daf Yomi or even just five minutes of halakhah or mussar, reading from the Torah every day of your life will engender faith, a fear of G-d, and a commitment to continue following the precepts of the Torah through thick and thin. “[He shall do all this] so that his heart not become haughty over his brethren… and in order that his rule will be of lengthy days, for both himself and his children in the midst of Israel.” The key to a successful life is the trait of humility. Even when you’ve “made it” professionally or financially, don’t allow your successes to convince you that you’re any better than your peers. If you live by these principles, then both you and your children will live a long and happy life, and will do so within the Jewish community.

Ourselves as king or our domains

In my travels over the last several days, I encountered a large amount of homeless people camped out in the streets. There is currently a scourge in society of people who don’t feel that they have any purpose or direction in life. They’ve basically given up on themselves and have not been able to find any redemption to their lives or reason to live with that sense of self-respect or dignity. To me, this sight on the streets is the saddest of all human conditions. Society today has become so advanced; we’ve cured so many illnesses, and we’ve created so many luxuries and amenities that are within everyone’s grasp. But we haven’t succeeded in providing an overarching message of purpose and meaning within the life of the average citizen. We’d be so well advised to follow the Torah’s charge. Become the king or queen that you were always meant to be! As we inch closer to the High Holidays, let’s examine the infrastructure of our lives. Have we instituted the proper priorities for ourselves and our loved ones? Are we leading disciplined lives of purpose? At the end of our lives, we all want to be remembered as people who led lives with meaning and who set a proper example for their family and friends. That’s a true king or queen. May we ascend the throne of true royalty every day of our lives, and may this new year bring us to both personal and national Redemption, bb”a.

You are Loved

By Rabbi Daniel Korobkin December 23, 1888 is one of the most famous moments in art history. It was on that day that a distraught Vincent Van Gogh “stepped into the bathroom and stared at his maniacal, menacing, hyena-wild reflection, rubbed his stubbled neck, lifted the razor and, grabbing his left ear, sliced it off in a silent scream, locking eyes with his reflection in the mirror.” Why did he do it? What led such a creative artist to become so destructive? Or, as fellow impressionist artist Claude Monet questioned, “How could a man who has loved flowers and light so much and has rendered them so well, how could he have managed to be so unhappy?” Theories abound. One suggests that Van Gogh had gotten into a heated argument with his roommate, artist Paul Gauguin, who claimed in his memoirs that Van Gogh had threatened him with a razor before turning the instrument on himself. Another speculation is earlier that day, Van Gogh received news of his brother Theo’s engagement, and was deeply concerned it would affect Theo’s financial support, which was crucial to the artist. Others suggest that he was simply an alcoholic and was suffering from the delusional and hallucinatory effects of either alcohol binging or alcohol withdrawal. Van Gogh is one of the most famous cases where tormented geniuses or sensitive artists have punished and mutilated themselves physically. There is even a modern syndrome coined “Van Gogh syndrome,” also known as Nonsuicidal Self-Injury (NSSI). In many instances the individual feels that this is the only way to cope with unbearable pain or stress. Other times, the individual feels they deserve to be punished for some misdeed or failure.

The mitzvah against self-mutilation

The syndrome is not new, and was around in the times of the Torah’s writing. It forms the basis of a mitzvah in our parsha, which prohibits self-mutilation during moments of distress (14:1-2):

 .בָּנִים אַתֶּם לַיקֹוָק אֱלֹהֵיכֶם לֹא תִתְגֹּדְדוּ וְלֹא־תָשִׂימוּ קָרְחָה בֵּין עֵינֵיכֶם לָמֵת

 .כִּי עַם קָדוֹשׁ אַתָּה לַיקֹוָק אֱלֹהֶיךָ וּבְךָ בָּחַר יְקֹוָק לִהְיוֹת לוֹ לְעַם סְגֻלָּה מִכֹּל הָעַמִּים אֲשֶׁר עַל־פְּנֵי הָאֲדָמָה

You are children to Hashem your Lord. Do not disfigure yourselves, nor may you place a cut between your eyes over the dead.

For you are a holy nation to Hashem your Lord, and Hashem has chosen you to be His chosen nation from all the nations that are on the face of the earth.

If we look at the language carefully, we discover that the Torah seems to be providing two reasons for prohibiting self-mutilation, one at the beginning of the first verse, and one in the second verse: (1) You are Hashem’s children, and (2) You are Hashem’s holy and chosen people. What’s the difference between the two, and how do they serve as reasons for this prohibition?

A child's view

Sfornu and Ibn Ezra comment on the first reason, that we should look at ourselves as Hashem’s children in quite a literal sense. Firstly, when we were young children, often times our parents would do things that we didn’t understand. Their actions may have appeared cruel or unfair, but as we got older we realized that their actions were reasonable and correct. This is how we are supposed to look upon tragic events. We may not understand why these events happened nor why they are for the best, but if we view ourselves as Hashem’s children, not yet capable of understanding our Parent’s actions, we can more easily reconcile ourselves and endure the pain of the tragedy. Secondly, no matter what loss a person goes through, if they still have their parent, this is in itself a comfort. No matter how sad and empty the individual may feel, they may take comfort in knowing that their Father in Heaven is still there with them, supporting them and embracing them at every juncture, just as a father or mother holds their crying child in their arms to offer comfort.

The individual

This first reason for prohibiting self-mutilation is therefore directed at the truly distraught individual. Hashem is saying: Don’t do anything to harm yourself in order to drown out your pain or to punish yourself. First of all, you don’t yet understand how your own miserable state, even if brought by your own actions, is part of a larger plan that will work out in the end. Secondly, I am here with you to help endure your suffering. I still love you no matter what, no matter how much you think you may have failed, and I will always be here for you.

The nation

The second reason given in the Torah for prohibiting self-mutilation is completely different. Instead of Hashem offering consolation and reassurance, this second text charges us collectively as the Jewish people with a national duty. “You are a holy, chosen nation!” Your behavior sends a message to the entire world. If you mourn excessively to the point of self-flagellation, you are suggesting that God is not just and that life is wretched and miserable. This runs counter to your duty to be a “light unto the nations.” No matter what happens to you, no matter how much you are punished, persecuted and hounded, you must always hold your head high and let the world know that you are proud to be alive as a Jew. Even if you are crying bitter tears inside, never let the world see your unbearable pain, but rather suffer with dignity and moderation. Let the world hear the words, “Baruch Dayan HaEmet,” – “Blessed be Hashem, the true Judge!” Even when it’s hard for you to believe those words, it is nonetheless your duty to proclaim them so as to sanctify Hashem’s name throughout the world.

The needs of the many

The Talmud (TB Yevamos 14a) teaches, based on reading the words “לֹא תִתְגּדְדוּ” as deriving from the word “אגודות”, separate groups, that every Jewish community must try its best to create uniform practices for the entire community so that it does not appear that everyone is doing something different. What does this have to do with self-mutilation? It reveals that when it comes to human suffering, sometimes a Jew has to put aside his or her personal pain in order to project a national image of positivity, just like sometimes an individual has to put aside his or her personal religious preference in order to conform to the greater good of the community’s minhag. Both interpretations speak to placing the community’s priorities before the individual’s.) Everyone, without fail, experiences pain in life. Many of us have good and healthy coping mechanisms to deal with these painful and stressful situations. We have learned to laugh at our challenges, to decompress through physical exercise, education, music, and socialization. Others do not cope as well. In an effort to drown out the pain some over-indulge in various substances and activities that are self-destructive or hurtful to others.

You are never alone

To fulfill the directive to emulate God in everything we do, we must acknowledge the pain of others. Just seeing the other and reminding them that they are not alone can do wonders. You never know how much of a difference it makes in a person’s life just knowing that you are available to them when they need someone to lean on. The month of Elul is upon us. This is the time to realign ourselves with what we know to be good and virtuous. Let’s try and remember the opening words of this mitzvah: “בָּנִים אַתֶּם לַיקֹוָק אֱלֹהֵיכֶם” – “You are Hashem’s son or daughter!” You deserve the best, and Hashem loves you no matter what. Don’t despair, and don’t punish yourself any longer. Arise and love yourself the way Hashem loves you. As bad as things may be, realize that life is such a gift. Had Van Gogh realized how appreciated he’d become for his contribution to art, he probably would never have harmed himself on that terrible December night. You may not be appreciated today for who you are, and you may not even feel terribly good about yourself. But never forget that Hashem loves you as His child, and will always be with you. You are loved, and you are never alone. May we all move forward together with confidence and optimism to greet the Redeemer, bb”a.

Conquering the Canaanite Within

By Rabbi Daniel Korobkin Part of Moshe’s parting words to his children, the Jewish people, was to provide them with a winning strategy for conquering Eretz Israel and maintaining a hold on their conquest. The Jewish people were informed twice – first by Hashem when they left Egypt, and second by Moshe when they were about to enter Eretz Israel – that Hashem had a deliberate strategy for their conquest of the Land: I will not chase out [the indigenous clans of Canaan] in one year, lest the Land become desolate and the beasts of the field outnumber you. Rather, I will chase them out slowly, until you become more numerous and are able to inherit the Land (Ex. 23:29-20). Hashem your Lord will move these clans away from you slowly; you will not be able to eradicate them quickly, lest the beasts of the field outnumber you. (Deut. 7:22)

Spreading monotheism to the world

Some people have looked back on this biblical text as proof that Israel should be devoid of all foreign entities and should not allow non-Jews to be part of Israeli society. But this is a mistaken interpretation. When Israel was a nascent nation, they were a novelty to the world, being the only monotheistic people in a regional sea of idolaters. Both their immaturity as a people and their stark contrast with the rest of the world made them an easy target for an overpowering assimilative force. It was only due to the Jewish people’s vulnerability that they were called upon to eradicate all Canaanite idolatrous clans from the Land. Today, Bnei Israel are a mature nation. We have been around for millennia, and withstood the test of time. Furthermore, we introduced ethical monotheism to our Christian and Muslim cousins. Allowing people of other faiths – especially those who have adopted ethical monotheism – is not only allowable, but is a reasonable and beneficial policy for Israeli society, no different from the biblical “ger toshav” – the righteous gentile – who is welcomed by the Torah to live among us (such as in 14:21, in next week’s parsha). But there is a concerning theological question that bothers a number of commentaries. Hashem has a strategy, says Moshe. If He eradicates the Canaanites too quickly, you’ll be outnumbered by the animals of the wild, and you will be in danger. But isn’t God the one who is performing miracles to eradicate the Canaanites? Cannot the same God who miraculously sends wasps against the Canaanites (in 7:20) and helps the Jewish army defeat their enemies, be the same God who prevents the wildlife of Eretz Israel from attacking the small Jewish population?!

Different kinds of miracles

Perhaps the Torah is giving us an insight into the type of miracles Hashem perpetrates to help Am Israel. In a sense, it is “easier” for God to influence a psychological phenomenon within a society than it is for Him to manipulate animal behavior. Animals work exclusively on instinct; when a lion is hungry, it will attack its prey. When it’s sated, it will leave the antelope alone. Human attitudes are different; people are easily manipulated to all types of irrational behaviors by PR, the media, public opinion, and so forth. For Hashem to strategically sway the Canaanites to become intimidated by Bnei Israel is much more of a covert miracle than repressing a natural hunger that the lions and bears of the forest may have. Hashem was instructing Bnei Israel that while they could expect a covert miracle like military victory in the conquest of Eretz Israel, they would still be susceptible to natural disasters, against which all human beings must protect themselves. It’s as if Hashem was commanding: I’ll help you win the big battles, but make sure to wear a coat when it’s cold, and protect yourselves from wild beasts. Despite this answer, the question still led a number of commentaries to interpret the verse homiletically. Shortly after World War II, the grand rabbi of Modzitz, Rav Shaul Yedidya Elazar Taub (1886-1947), read the verse as follows: “You will not be able to eradicate them quickly, lest you be overpowered to become the beasts of the field.” That is, if the Jewish army is fully and constantly immersed in warfare, they will eventually become bloodthirsty animals and will lose their humanity. By waging war sparingly and intermittently, soldiers will be able to have breaks, go home, reintegrate with a peaceful society, and reclaim their humanity. Rabbi Taub concluded that he was personally witness to this phenomenon. Because they were immersed in violent and bloody warfare over a period of years, the Germans of his time eventually became dehumanized, like wild animals, and lived with complete abandon.

The quick fix

This verse might also refer to the person who wishes to fix everything too quickly. We know the type: a person may be a new ba’al teshuvah, someone who newly finds religion and enthusiastically makes quantum leaps in their Yiddishkeit and piety. But there are real dangers of recidivism among those who take on too much too quickly. In your zeal to conquer the Canaanite within you, you may also lose sight of yourself, who you truly are, and will become overcome with dysphoria, depression, anxiety, and other mental or emotional misalignments that result from lifestyle changes too drastic in too short of a time. We note that the first creature identified in the Torah as a “chayat hasadeh,” beast of the field, is the Serpent in the Garden of Eden (Gen. 3:1): “וְהַנָּחָשׁ הָיָה עָרוּם מִכֹּל חַיַּת הַשָּׂדֶה” – “The Serpent was the wiliest of all the beasts of the field…” The danger is that in your zeal to eradicate the evil “Canaanite” you might get overcome by an even worse evil, a debilitating form of regression that will cause you to nihilistically throw your hands up in despair and give up everything. This is the work of the Serpent of the Garden, an even more toxic guise of the evil inclination than the Canaanite. At least the Canaanite, despite his idolatry and misplaced priorities, is human. But the Serpent represents a complete surrender and abandon. It would be tragic for the person who is aspiring to great spiritual heights to fall and end up lower than they were when they started.

Finding the right pace for each of us

This phenomenon happens to FFB’s (“frum from birth”) too, as they age and they become less passionate about their Yiddishkeit. When we are young, we have a fire in our belly, a passion for spirituality and becoming close with Hashem. As we age, these passions start to wane and we search for something to fill that void. But that effort to reclaim our inspiration must also be done deliberately and methodically so that it doesn’t backfire on us. As we come to the realization that we’ve filled our lives with too much “narishkeit” (folly), we must also not get too far ahead of ourselves and quit “cold turkey” all of the frivolous behaviors that make up our current lives. Move slowly, rectify your foibles one by one, so that you don’t end up crashing and burning, succumbing to the “chayat hasadeh.” As it pertains to each of us, let’s remember that is just around the corner. There may be things that we would want to consider changing, whether it be waking up earlier in order to pray with a minyan, or just taking more time from our recreational activities and using that time more effectively to do an extra mitzvah. The important thing is to transition slowly. In our verse, Hashem tells us that He’ll get rid of the Canaanites slowly, for if not, the beasts of the wild may take over. These are words to live by: As we slowly approach the month of Elul, try to slowly regain your footing in the world of productivity and goodness. Don’t move too quickly, lest you become disoriented and fed up. Slowly reassume all the good that you weren’t able to do in the past, and reclaim your life in a methodical, measured way. May we all succeed in conquering the Canaanite within us so that we, too, take possession of the Promised Land, bb”a.

True Beauty is More Than Skin-Deep

By Rabbi Daniel Korobkin We all know that part and parcel of what it means to be a Jew is to preserve one’s physical health. We aren’t permitted to take unnecessary risks, and we’re supposed eat, drink, exercise. Overall, we must treat our bodies responsibly. What is the source for this in the Torah? According to the Rambam (Hil. Rotze’ach UShemirat HaNefesh 11:4), it is based on two verses from our parsha. What is surprising, however, is that when looking at these verses, you’d never know that they were addressing taking care of one’s physical wellbeing from their context. Caring for the body involves more than avoiding danger; it also requires attention to the food we eat, the nutrients we consume, and the habits we maintain each day. A balanced diet, regular physical activity, and mindful eating all play a role in supporting long-term health. With guidance from a dietician, individuals can better understand their nutritional needs, and JM Nutrition fits naturally into conversations about developing healthier eating habits and making informed food choices. In this sense, maintaining physical wellbeing is not limited to preventing illness but also includes making daily decisions that reflect a sense of responsibility toward the body. First, let’s examine a story from the Talmud (TB Berachot 32b-33a). The rabbis state that when in the midst of praying the Amidah, we are not permitted to interrupt our prayers for any reason. The one exception is if someone’s life is in danger. No mitzvah – with rare exception – takes priority over preserving one’s health. Thus, if a threatening authority figure walks past you while you’re davening, and if you remain silent you might face his wrath, you are supposed to interrupt even your Amidah to greet the ruler.

Mortal danger in proximity to davening

The Gemara relates a story of a devout individual who disobeyed this halakhah because of his extreme devotion, and continued his silent prayer even as a high-ranking gentile politician greeted him. The ruler was so incensed by this snub, that he waited for the Jew to finish davening and then said to him, “It says in your Torah, ‘רַק הִשָּׁמֶר לְךָ וּשְׁמֹר נַפְשְׁךָ’ (4:9), and ‘וְנִשְׁמַרְתֶּם מְאֹד לְנַפְשֹׁתֵיכֶם’ (4:15)! Both verses mean that one is obligated to preserve one’s soul. What right did you have to ignore me when I extended my greeting to you? Don’t you realize I could have you killed for that insurrection?!” The devout man succeeded in talking his way out of a reprisal from the (apparently wise and benevolent) ruler, and his life was spared. The only problem with this story is that the context of the verses cited by the non-Jewish official have nothing to do with preserving one’s health. To the contrary, they deal with the obligation to remember the events at Mount Sinai and the prohibition of idolatry. Our parsha has Moshe warning the Jews that when they enter the New Land, they will encounter foreign cultures with enticing idolatrous practices. “Watch over and preserve your soul!” Moshe charged. Don’t stray after idols. Clearly, this has nothing to do with eating healthy, exercising, and avoiding risks. Yet, the Rambam cites our text when stating: “One is obligated to remove and avoid at all costs any obstacle that presents mortal danger, as it says (4:9), ‘הִשָּׁמֶר לְךָ וּשְׁמֹר נַפְשְׁךָ’.” Where does this verse, which talks about the “soul” and is in the context of a religious admonition, allude to this new halakhah of preserving physical health? The Netziv suggests that the clue is from the strange conjugation. If the verse was only referring to one’s spiritual wellbeing, it should have said, “ושמרתם מאד את נפשתיכם” – “Carefully guard your soul.” But instead the verse contains an unusual conjugation of “וְנִשְׁמַרְתֶּ֥ם... לְנַפְשֹׁתֵיכֶ֑ם”, which literally means, “You shall be carefully entrusted to your soul.” That is, there is something about “you” other than your soul that must be preserved together with your soul, i.e., the body.

Physical health & spirituality

We are still left with the question: Why did the Torah present the obligation to preserve one’s physical health in the context of preserving oneself spiritually and avoiding idolatry? Rav Hirsch offers a beautiful thought: What, after all, is idolatry? It is focusing on the physical trappings of existence, even to the point of ascribing physical characteristics to one’s deity, in order to draw religious inspiration. In reality, however, a Jew is supposed to infer that his Deity transcends the physical plane. When I look at myself in the mirror, I know that there is much more to “me” than just my body. My soul is really the main part of me. As such, we all appreciate that a spiritual dimension exists that far transcends the veneer of our physical being, and is even more “real” than our physical existence. Once we recognize that the main part of a human being is their soul, it would be grossly incorrect to translate God, the completely transcendent Being, into our lower, physical plane by attributing any physical qualities to Him. The commandment of “preserving our souls” is thus a charge to look at our souls as the main reason for eschewing idolatry.

Under the physical façade

The mitzvah extends far beyond examining our souls. We live in a physical world, where all of our human senses perceive reality as the physical trappings of existence. It is so easy to get lost in our perception of reality and lose sight of the fact that there is so much more to existence than the physical façade. In taking inventory of the beautiful world Hashem created, it’s easy to fall into the trap of thinking that the external beauty of our world contains the source of all divinity. Hashem warns: “You may see the form of an animal, or a bird who flies to the heavens. You may see insects, or fish, who inspire you. Or, you may look up and see the sun, the moon, and the stars. These are beautiful, perfect creations that reflect My glory (see 4:15-19). But do not think that true reality lies in those things, no matter how glorious and beautiful this physical world is. There is a spiritual reality which is far more real than anything on this physical plane. As such, be careful to preserve your body, not for the sake of your body, but for the sake of your soul.” The beauty of living a religious life is that our vision penetrates far deeper than the surface. When we look at another human being, we’re not supposed to just see a living organism capable of advanced thinking; we’re supposed to see a neshama. When we look at the beauty of a sunset or a majestic landscape, we’re meant to translate that breathtaking beauty into a spiritual experience. When we look at a piece of produce, we’re supposed to see a gift from God, one that gives us an opportunity to feed the hungry as well as any number of mitzvot. This is the essential nature of all mitzvot; taking something physical and being able to see a deeper reality behind the physical façade of that object with which we perform the mitzvah. An etrog is much more than a citrus fruit. The truly spiritual individual sees this more and more as one goes through life.

A universal truth

This is a universal message. One doesn’t have to be an Orthodox Jew or even Jewish to see this. This is why the Gemara cites a non-Jew as quoting the verse from the Torah, stating that a human being is much more than a collection of tissue, and that every moment of life is infinitely precious and should not be squandered. The entire justification of preserving our bodies is in order to enable our souls, the main part of who we are, to grow and be productive for as long as possible. As the Talmud states when sanctioning Shabbat violation in order to preserve one’s health (TB Shabbos 151b): “Violate one Shabbat in order to observe many future Shabatot.” It can only be in the context of maintaining a healthy soul that we are charged with maintaining healthy bodies. For after all, what is the benefit to being “alive” if we are not being spiritually productive in that life? In a world which has mistaken the façade of reality for reality itself, part of our role as individuals and as a community is to counteract that simplistic and occluding outlook. Our goal should be, with every bracha we recite, with every ritual we perform, with every kindness we extend, to look past the façade and appreciate that the physical body truly is a wrapper for the soul, and that Hashem’s world is far deeper than the surface. May we succeed in this holy endeavor which will usher in the Redemption, bb”a.

Paradigm Shifts in Retrospect

By Rabbi Daniel Korobkin Our Sages are often called “Sofrim,” which literally means “counters.” Many of our rabbis dedicated their lives to carefully counting every word, letter, and cantillation note of the Tanakh, as well as studying grammatical rules, in order to ensure the text’s integrity for all time. The work Dikdukei HaTe’amim was written in the 10th century by Rav Aharon ben Moshe ben Asher, one of these sofrim who focused on dikduk and other rules of Biblical cantillation and language. He taught that there are only three places in all of Chumash where a pasuk has a paragraph break in the middle of the verse. This is quite unusual, just as it would be in any language, including English.

Three broken verses

Let’s look at the three occurrences and see if we can find a lesson from these anomalies:

(1) In Parshat Vayishlach, when dealing with the story of Reuven’s sin with his father’s wife Bilhah, the Torah states (Gen. 35:22):

וַיְהִי בִּשְׁכֹּן יִשְׂרָאֵל בָּאָרֶץ הַהִוא וַיֵּלֶךְ רְאוּבֵן וַיִּשְׁכַּב אֶת־בִּלְהָה פִּילֶגֶשׁ אָבִיו וַיִּשְׁמַע יִשְׂרָאֵל פ וַיִּהְיוּ בְנֵי־יַעֲקֹב שְׁנֵים עָשָׂר

It happened that when Israel dwelled in the Land, that Revuen went and lay with Bilhah, his father’s concubine; Israel heard, [paragraph break] and the sons of Yaakov were twelve.

(2) In Parshat Pinchas, in the aftermath of Pinchas’ act of zealotry which stayed the plague that came as a result of the Jews’ sin with Midianite women, the Torah states (Num. 26:1):

וַיְהִי אַחֲרֵי הַמַּגֵּפָה פ וַיֹּאמֶר יְקֹוָק אֶל־מֹשֶׁה וְאֶל אֶלְעָזָר בֶּן־אַהֲרֹן הַכֹּהֵן לֵאמֹר

It was that after the plague [paragraph break], Hashem spoke to Moshe, and to Elazar son of Aharon as follows.

This was the precursor to the commandment to take a census of the Jewish people.

(3) In Parshat Devarim (our parsha), in discussing the travels of the Jewish people that would eventually bring them to the Plains of Moav, the Torah states (2:8)

וַנַּעֲבֹר מֵאֵת אַחֵינוּ בְנֵי־עֵשָׂו הַיֹּשְׁבִים בְּשֵׂעִיר מִדֶּרֶךְ הָעֲרָבָה מֵאֵילַת וּמֵעֶצְיֹן גָּבֶר ס וַנֵּפֶן וַנַּעֲבֹר דֶּרֶךְ מִדְבַּר מוֹאָב:

We departed our brethren the sons of Esav, who were living in Se’ir, in the path of the plain, near Eilat and Etzyon Gaver [paragraph break], and we turned [northwards] and traveled toward the Moav desert.

Why are they broken?

Why do these specific verses have paragraph breaks in them? We suggest that they all share something in common: Each verse marks a significant paradigm shift and dramatic change in the narrative. (1) In Bereishit, the event of Reuven’s sin with Yaakov’s wife is the last event where our Patriarchs, Avraham, Yitzchak, and Yaakov were the main characters. Up until this point in Genesis, all the stories revolved around these three men, the progenitors of the Jewish nation. From this point forward, after the story of Reuven’s sin, the narrative of Genesis deals with Yaakov’s sons as the main characters. Yaakov himself is relegated to being a secondary character beginning with the very next narrative in the story, that of Yoseph and his brothers. (2) In Parshat Pinchas, the plague marked the very last time that Jews would die in the desert. In fact, Chizkuni states that this was also the last time that Jews would die in the desert, period, including those who were destined to die because of the sin of the Spies. This indicates that the stories of the generation of the desert were coming to an end, and that the rest of the Bamidbar narrative is preparing for entry into Eretz Israel. (3) In Parshat Devarim, we read of the travels of the Jewish people through the desert. But we can divide those travels into two parts: (a) The first 39 years were years of travel, not headed toward Eretz Israel, but rather making various circuitous journeys throughout the desert. (b) In the last year, the Jews’ passage nearby Eilat and Etzyon Gaver next to Edom marked the very last stop that was not bringing them closer to entering the Land. After this stop, the Jews completely changed direction (as stated by Rashi). Instead of wandering aimlessly through the desert, they made a beeline toward the northeast so that they could enter Eretz Israel through the Moabite territory in the Transjordan.

Different kinds of change

If each narrative dramatically changed at the points of the paragraph breaks, why keep them in one pasuk (verse)? Why not break them into two verses, the first part ending the previous paragraph, and the second which starting the new paragraph and the new part of the story? Here is where we get to the important lesson of each of these paragraph breaks: Sometimes in life, we can undergo a transformative and dramatic change, and not even be aware of it. That is, the one day when something truly monumental changes in our life might seem at the time to be no different from the day before or the day after. The events all seem like they’re part of the same verse and the same routine, when in reality something dramatic has changed. Yaakov and his children had no way of knowing in real time when the baton had been passed from Yaakov as the main protagonist of the Biblical narrative over to his children. Bnei Israel had no way of knowing that the plague after the Midianite sin would be the end of death in the desert. Similarly, the Jews who traveled past Edom had no way of knowing that their new direction would take them directly into Eretz Israel. This is because sometimes in life, we can only realize the really important changes in retrospect, after seeing the entire panorama of our lives. Certainly, there are times when we can see the dramatic shifts in life in real time: When we start a new job, get married, retire, move to a new city, when a baby is born, a child leaves home, etc., we see the changes as they occur. But then there are times when we don’t realize what’s happening until after the fact. Say, for example, you went to visit family in Israel at the end of 2019. You had every intention of revisiting routinely three to six months later, but as it turned out, that trip would be your last for two years. Or, think about that first time when email became a thing, or when you got your first fax machine, PC, smartphone, etc. (depending upon how old you are, this will determine which technology you choose). You may have initially thought that it was just a fad, or that it had limited applications to your life, etc. It’s only in retrospect that we can look at something like the advent of a new technology or new social phenomenon as being a real game-changer in our lives, and pinpoint the moment of dramatic shifts in our life’s history.

Living life to the fullest

One lesson from all this is that we should live each day and each moment to the fullest. We do not always know when monumental moments in life are occurring. Instead of letting life pass us by, let us try and live every day as crucial and vital events to the rest of our life. This is also an important and pertinent lesson as we enter into Tish’a B’Av. We’ve been commemorating this day for as long as we’ve been around. Ever since that fateful day on the night of the 9th of Av in the desert when we cried over the negative report about Eretz Israel by the Spies, this day has always been a day to remember our tragedies and our failures. More specifically, it’s a day when we also think about the absence of a unified Jewish people, focused on the Temple in Jerusalem. But according to tradition, it’s also the day when the Redemption will begin. The seeds of our rebuilding have always been contained in the ashes of our destruction. We have no way of knowing if this will be the last Tish’a B’av that we observe in Galut, sitting on the floor and lamenting the tragedies of Jewish history. It will only be in retrospect that we will look back and see all of the events that lined up in the world leading up to the Messianic Age. Certainly, we all have a role to play in trying to make this the last Tish’a B’av in mourning. There are so many indicators in the world today, especially over the last few years, that the world is accelerating towards some kind of new world order. Social norms have dramatically shifted; Jews are making aliyah in unprecedented numbers; we are seeing some countries decline while others progress. No one has a crystal ball and it’s currently not possible to see where this is all headed. But as we sit again on the floor this Tish’a B’Av, let us remember that “תשועת ד' כהרף עין” – “the salvation of Hashem occurs in the blink of an eye.” It may very well be that this is the moment of our “paragraph break,” even in mid-sentence. We have every reason to be optimistic that our years in the Diaspora are numbered, and that all the Jewish people will return to their glorious Land to meet the Mashiach. May it happen speedily, bb”a.