Enough With the Positive Talk!

Hello all,

I'm not sure about you, but I smell the matzah in the air. Actually, the smell of matzah is mixed in with the smell of maror, and I smell some charoset, too. Actually - I smell none of them - but I make myself think that I can smell them, because Pesach is right around the corner. I'm very excited for Pesach. One of the mitzvot that we have on the night of Pesach is to speak about the miracles that occurred during our exodus from Egypt. Get this - there is a mitzvah to tell over stories! In the spirit of story-telling, I will write about a story, one that we can learn a lot from.

This week's parasha, Parashat Tazria, includes many laws about tzara'at. Tzara'at is a spiritual, skin-disease. Why would someone get this disease? Well, the Torah doesn't tell us why. All the Torah tells us is the laws of how to deal with it when one gets it. But our Rabbis (Masechet Erachin (15b)) tell us seven causes for this disease of tzara'at. The seven reasons are: murder, adultery, pride, theft, stinginess, a vain oath, and for the sin of lashon hara (gossip/slander/bad-mouthing/whatever you want to call it).

Each of these seven sins are important to think about, and one must make sure to rid himself/herself from any trace of these sins. See, nowadays, no one actually gets tzara'at. It used to be that when people would receive tzara'at, they would realize that they are doing something wrong; this would (hopefully) inspire them to change, to improve, to better their ways. However, nowadays, we don't have such a kindness from Hashem. Receiving tzara'at is a blessing in disguise that we no longer are privileged to. Therefore, it is our responsibility to make sure we are clear of any of these sins. Pride - realize that even if you think you are better than someone else, you have a different role to play - and if you don't meet your maximum potential, you are, in fact, worse than the next guy. Theft - realize that if you work for someone, and you take breaks or personal calls, more than you are granted by your employer, you are doing something wrong. Stinginess - realize that you should not keep your fists clenched but open up a little bit, even if it means that you have to give a little - maybe if you give a little more than other people deserve, than Hashem will give you a little more than you deserve, too. 

From all of these sins, the one most associated with tzara'at is the sin of lashon hara. You shouldn't speak bad about people. But it doesn't end there - you shouldn't speak about people in a sarcastic tone, with rolling your eyes, winking and laughing at people, etc. There are many laws about lashon hara, and it is very easy to justify speaking negatively about others. The only way you can actually guard yourself from such a sin is by studying the laws. Believe me, if you leave it to your own judgment, you will most probably speaking about things that you shouldn't be speaking about. 

There is an unbelievable story brought down in the Gemara (Bava Batra 164b), which can help us be more sensitive and considerate regarding our speech. One Rabbi, Rabbi Shimon was sitting in front of his Rabbi, Rebbi Yehuda HaNassi. They were learning Tehillim together. As they are finishing up, Rebbi Yehuda HaNassi says, "How neat is this handwriting!" In a time before publishers, everything was written by hand. And, I guess the schooling of penmanship needed some work, because people simply did not write neatly. Rebbi Yehuda HaNassi enjoyed the book they were using because it was written so neatly and with such beautiful writing that was extremely pleasant to look at. To this wonderful compliment, Rebbi Shimon responds, "Oh, I did not write this...It was Rebbi Yehuda Chayata who wrote it." Rebbi Shimon said which scribe wrote with this beautiful handwriting. Rebbi Yehuda HaNassi angrily snaps back, "Why are you telling me lashon hara? Enough with this evil speech!"

The Gemara does not understand why Rebbi Yehuda HaNassi responded the way he did. Rebbi Shimon simply said the name of the scribe! That wasn't anything bad! On top of that, not only was it not bad, but it was even a compliment. Rebbi Yehuda HaNassi complimented the scribe, stating that he writes beautifully, and Rebbi Shimon tells him who this who this wonderful scribe is. But for some reason, Rebbi Yehuda HaNassi did not want to hear a name. Even though it was a compliment, he was upset with his student when he mentioned a name. Why?

The Gemara explains, "A person should never excessively compliment someone in front of others, because complimenting him might lead to speaking ill about him." We've all been somewhere at some point when someone compliments someone else, and a pessimistic fellow from the crowd jumps up and says, "Yeah, but he's no so good in something else....etc." For example, I've heard people say, "So-and-so issuch a great Torah reader. He's got a beautiful voice, it makes me want to listen to Torah all day long!" A second person says, "Yeah, but he makes too many mistakes. If only he would practice a little more, he would be perfect!!! I mean, don't get me wrong, he's the best that I know - but he's still got some work to do." When the first guy introduces a compliment, it might lead to someone else speaking lashon hara. Even though you might think that I am not responsible for what the next guy says, if I begin the conversation, I am held responsible.

In this story, Rebbi Yehuda HaNassi didn't want to hear a name, because the second you mention a name, maybe we know something else about him, and we will start thinking bad about him. It's better not to mention his name altogether.

When I first learned this Gemara, I took a tremendous lesson from this. Very often, you will be sitting amongst a group of people, speaking compliments about someone else. And you are only speaking positive things! Compliments all around. Is this lashon hara? No, so you will continue speaking about it, and you will rationalize to yourself that not only is this permitted, but it's a good thing to speak of others' compliments. However, I learned from this Gemara that such is not the case. It's best not to focus on other people AT ALL. You don't know what this might lead to. You can't control what everyone else will say. 

I know that this is very difficult. Never to speak about anyone else? Even compliments? What should we speak about? Trees? We must speak about people!!! Well, our Rabbis explain that it is okay to speak of compliments, but not excessively. If you see yourself speaking excessively about someone else, realize that it's time to change the subject. 

Be'ezrat Hashem, we will all be able to control our speech. And if we prevent ourselves from speaking of positive compliments in excess, I bet you that you will think twice before speaking ill about others.

Sabbatical Salutations!

Sincerely yours,

Adam Sabzevari

Remember to Forget

Greetings,

 

This week's parashat is Parashat Tzav. Also, this week is Parashat Zachor, which is the second of four special parshiyot that we read during this time of year (Shekalim, Zachor, Parah, Hachodesh). From these four parshiyot, Zachor is probably the most important one, because it is a mitzvah from the Torah to read it. This Shabbat, it is important that we all read it. But, it would be nice if we were to understand what we were reading, as well, right? So I will write a shorthand of what happened, and they I will write down a loose translation of the parasha that we will be reading this week.

 

After we left Egypt, the entire world was scared of the Jewish people. We were untouchable. Hashem performed open miracles for us, and He even drowned an entire empire. The Egyptians were the most powerful nation in the world, and in a matter of minutes, they became simply nonexistent. Everyone was scared of us, and no one would dare do anything to threaten us in any way. But Amalek was not scared. He attacked the Jewish people. But he didn't attack our soldiers, our able-bodied warriors. He went to the end of the camp, and he attacked the weakest of the weak. He killed helpless infants and defenseless poor people. (I'm not sure if you are in tune with the news, but if you heard about the Fogel family that was brutally murdered this past Shabbat, the only thing you can think of is Amalek. Who can be so sick as to murder an infant? What can possibly be going on through your mind as you stab a 3-month-old baby? You must be proud of yourself, a real warrior. This is exactly what Amalek did - he attacked the helpless.) But the this had a tremendous effect. The entire world began to think twice. "Maybe the Jewish people are not so untouchable, after all." And Amalek opened the door, he gave other nations the necessary precedent and established a social norm, to attack the Jewish people. And not only did our enemies feel more confident, but this crushed the Jewish people, as well. The Jews began to doubt. "Why would Hashem allow something like this to happen to us? Maybe He's not with us anymore." The Jewish people were scared, and they feared. As you can see, Amalek changed the momentum of everything. He allowed the nations of the world to believe that they, too, can attack us. But even worse, they introduced an element of fear within the Jewish people. The Jews lacked complete faith in Hashem, due to Amalek's tragic attack.

 

This is a loose translation of the passukim:

"Remember that which Amalek did to you, on the way, when you were leaving Egypt, that he happened upon you on the way, when you were faint and exhausted, and he did not fear G-d. And when Hashem gives you rest from all your enemies in the Land that Hashem gives you as an inheritance to possess, you shall wipe out the memory of Amalek from under the heaven -  you shall not forget!" (Devarim 25:17-19).

 

There are three things that we are told to do here:

(1) Remember what Amalek did; (2) wipe out Amalek's memory; and (3) not to forget what he did.

 

[Seemingly, (1) and (3) are the same thing - remembering that which Amalek did. It's just that (1) is said in a positive fashion ("remember") and (2) is said in a negative manner ("do not forget"). These two lines are referring to the same event, and they are, in effect, requiring the same thing. The only difference is that the negative aspect of this commandment ("do not forget") is an inner thing, in our hearts, that we should never forget what Amalek did, but that doesn't require that we actually verbalize it. The positive aspect of it ("remember") requires that we actually verbalize what Amalek did, remember it through words and through speech, which is why we are even reading this parasha this week.]

 

However, there is an apparent contradiction is this very small portion. Are we supposed to remember what Amalek did? Yes. In fact, we must even verbalize it. But the second command of this parasha is: you shall wipe out the memory of Amalek from under the heaven. If I need to wipe out his memory, why do I keep bringing him up? On one hand, you tell me to forget about it, to wipe out his memory from this world. On the other hand, you won't let me forget it. You require that I say it all the time. So what am I supposed to do? Should I forget about what he did, remove his memory, or should I keep on remembering it? To forget, or not to forget? That is the question.

 

I posed this question over breakfast this week, and one of my friends offered the following answer. The phrase you shall wipe out the memory of Amalek from under the heaven, is referring to a physical action. We are commanded to kill any offspring of Amalek. So I asked him, but the verse states, "you shall wipe out the memory." He responded that "memory" here means the remaining, the remnant, the remainder. Eradicate the remainder of Amalek, i.e. his children. So we have to remember that which he did, but we have to eradicate Amalek himself from this world. There is no longer a contradiction. Eradicate him, but hold onto what he did.

I believe that this is a wonderful answer. It is not the one that I have thought of, but I think it is great.

 

The answer that I thought it (I may have heard it, but I'm not sure) has a different twist to it. The first and third commandments in this parasha ("remember" and "don't forget") are referring to the action that he did. We must never forget that we have enemies, and that our worst enemy attacked the weakest amongst us. We have to constantly remind ourselves this. But what does the Torah mean when it says you shall wipe out the memory of Amalek from under the heaven? We must wipe out the effect that he had on us. We must forget about the effect. As I have explained, Amalek introduced a fear amongst the Jewish people. He made us doubt ourselves, and even doubt Hashem, chas veshalom. We are obligated to eliminate that fear. That little voice in our heads that say, "Maybe Hashem is not protecting us" - that doubt came from Amalek, and that is exactly what we must forget. Remove it from your nature. Hashem will always be there, and there is nothing that He cannot do. If you explain it this way, there is no contradiction in the Torah. We are obligated to remember what Amalek did - but, we must remove the effect that he left on us.

 

After the tragedy in Itamar this past Shabbat, one may fear our enemies and think that we are helpless. But that is Amalek's effect. That is exactly what we are commanded to wipe out. As we read Parashat Zachor this Shabbat, realize that no matter what our enemies want to do to us, they can never break us. They may be successful in murdered a 3-month-old baby, but they can't shake our belief. They are sick in their heads, and we must remember that forever. But we must not allow them to lose confidence in ourselves.

 

Be'ezrat Hashem, may this be the last incident that we ever see from Amalek. May Hashem protect us, and may we all have a stronghold belief in Hashem and His protection.

Sincerely yours,

Adam Sabzevari

Hands Off, Buddy!

Shalom Unto You,

So Purim is getting closer and closer as we speak. It's so exciting. One of the many themes of Purim is understanding that Hashem runs the world. Throughout the entire Megilah, you will never see Hashem explicitly helping us or saving us. However, if you learn the Megilla according to Chazal, you will see that every single step along the way is from Hashem. There are many examples, and you can find this theme is almost every single passuk. Literally. In the spirit of Purim, maybe spend some time thinking about this: that Hashem really is watching our every actions, and He is right there behind us. We may not realize it, but He is following us from behind, and He will not let us fall. (Beautiful, no?)

I apologize, but I don't have any interesting stories this week. I couldn't think of anything exciting, but this is still an important thought.

In this week's Parasha, Parashat Vayikra, the Torah introduces to us the idea of giving korbanot. What are korbanot? Well, they are sacrifices/offerings, for lack of a better term, that we give to Hashem. There are many details and many different types of korbanot for different occasions. A few years ago, I was trying to explain to a five year old what a korban is, and I told him that a korban is a present that we give to Hashem. He liked that idea, so it works for me, too.

"Speak to the Children of Israel and say to them: When a man (אדם - Adam) among you brings an offering to Hashem, from animals, from the cattle or from the flock shall you bring your offering."

Here, Hashem says that when a man wants to bring a korban, he must follow certain guidelines. There are several words in Hebrew that can be used to describe "a man" - אדם (Adam), איש (Ish), נפש (Nefesh), and several others. All of these words mean "a man." However, the most prominent one is "איש (Ish)." Why is it that here, the Torah uses the word "Adam?"

The Gemara explains that "Adam" was specifically used in the context of korbanot to teach an important lesson. When Adam Harishon (the first man to have ever lived, Adam, as in Adam & Eve) was the only man on earth, he couldn't steal from anyone. That's because everything belonged to him. By consequence, when he brought a korban, he never stole the animal from someone else. Just as Adam never stole an animal to bring it as a korban, you may not steal an animal to bring it as a korban.

The obvious question is, why is it necessary to teach me that I can't steal an animal to bring as a korban? Of course you can't steal! Why would I ever think that I may steal an animal if I bring it as a korban? The Maharsha explains that one may rationalize and justify his thievery in the following manner: "I am not stealing for myself! I am stealing to give it as a korban, as a present to Hashem! After all, everything belongs to Hashem either way. I'm not really stealing anything. I'm just taking what's Hashem's and giving it Him." It is for this reason that it was necessary to insert the word "Adam" here, to indicate that one must not steal korbanot, just as Adam never stole an animal to bring it as a korban.

Many times, we may be inclined to do something wrong. However, we will justify our actions. We will find the best defenses to explain how we are, in fact, doing something correct. But deep down, we know when it's not true. May we all have clarity and not allow our minds to be clouded by our own perverse justifications. 

And once again, I am sorry for boring you. I am not justified for doing that.

Shabbat Shalom

Avraham Adam Sabzevari

Do Me a Favor and Take My Money...Please...

Hello Dear Subscribers,

Ever since I was a child (which also means currently, because I am still a child), I've always wondered why "zzzzzzzz" meant that someone was sleeping. Like in cartoons, if they want to express that someone is sleeping, they will write "Zzzzzzzzzzz" right above the character's head. My question is, what does the letter "zzz" have to do with sleep? So I thought, maybe it's supposed to imitate the sound of sleeping, maybe snoring. So I wanted to check if this is accurate, except that I could never hear myself sleeping, because I'm asleep when I'm sleeping. But I'm pretty sure that when someone snores, the sound comes from the throat, or the nose. "Zzzzzzz" sounds like there is a bee flying around my ear, not like someone is sleeping. Who come up with such a weird convention? More importantly, why am I bringing this up?

This week has been a very long week, and I haven't gotten much sleep. Today, I was sitting by my computer, typing something up. All of sudden, my eyelids felt very heavy, and I felt like I was going to fall asleep right on my computer. I quickly shook my head to try to wake myself up. When I looked at my computer screen, right in the middle of my document, I saw the following: "zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz"

It seems as though my finger was on the "z" key as I dosed off for a second or two. When I saw the z's on the screen, I got a good laugh out of it. Could this actually be the reason that "zzz" means "sleeping?" I guess we'll never know.

This week's parasha is Parashat Pekudei, and we read a special maftir/haftarah this week, which is called Parashat Shekalim. Beginning the Shabbat prior to Rosh Chodesh Adar (Adar 2, during leap years), we have a four-parasha-sequence that we read throughout the month. The four parashiyot are Shekalim, Zachor, Parah, and HaChodesh. This week, we read Parashat Shekalim, in which we tell each and every Jewish man to give a half-shekel contribution to the mishkan or the Beit HaMikdash. Every man must give a half-shekel. Nowadays that we don't have the Beit HaMikdash (unfortunately), we no longer have this mitzvah to give a half-shekel. However, in order to remember it, we give three half-shekel's to tzedaka. But we must realize that this is NOT the mitzvah of machatzit hashekel, just a remembrance. 

In Megillat Esther, which we will be reading in another two weeks, Haman decides that he wants to destroy all the Jews. He approaches Achashverosh and says:

"If it pleases the king, let it be recorded that [the Jews] be destroyed; and I will pay 10,000 silver coins...Then the king said to Haman, 'The silver is given to you, the people also, to do with as you see fit'" (Esther 3:9,11).

Haman offers to pay Achashverosh a large sum of money to be granted the permission to kill the Jews. Not only is Achashverosh okay with this plan to kill the Jews, but he also tells Haman to keep the money. "Just kill them, I don't need your money." Both Haman and Achashverosh are guilty here. The Gemara (Megilla) draws a parallel parable. There are two men: One man has a huge heap of dirt on his field, and the second man has a huge ditch in his field. The first man wants to get rid of this pile, and the second man needs a pile of dirt to fill the hole on his field. So it's a win-win situation for both of them. The first guy gives the dirt to the second guy, the first guy's field is cleaned up, and the second guy's field is smoothed out because he fills the ditch with the dirt. Everyone is happy. The Gemara explains that this is exactly what happened with Achashverosh and Haman. Haman wanted to kill the Jews, and Achasherosh wanted to get rid of them. Both of them were equally wicked. So Achashverosh simply handed them over to Haman and said, "do as you see fit."

However, the Gemara explains that we precede our "coins" to Haman's coins.  On Purim, we read this story of Haman offering 10,000 silver coins to kill us. Two weeks prior to Purim, we read Parashat Shekalim, in which every Jewish male makes a contribution to the house of Hashem, towards a good purpose. We precede Haman and use our coins to do something good, to serve Hashem. In that zechut, Haman will not be allowed to use his coins to hurt us in any way.

Obviously, Haman won't hurt us, because we know that Haman is dead. But that's the thing; he's not dead. There are plenty of people who would L-O-V-E to destroy us and remove us off the face of the earth. Plenty of people would pay the highest prices to destroy the Jews. However, if we precede them by giving tzedaka to worthy causes, to the needy, to schools, to synagogues, etc., we will prevent all the bad decrees. We will clip the wings of our enemies and prevent them from ever even getting off the ground.

We often don't realize that when giving tzedaka, the giver receives a lot more than the recipient. He is protected from so many things because of the act of charity, not to mention the reward that he will receive because of this action, both monetary reward and spiritual reward. As we read Parashat Shekalim this week, think about becoming more of a giver. Think about this mitzvah of giving, that it has saved us in the past and will continue to save us in the future. And realize that when you give tzedaka, the one who is receiving the most is yourself.

Shabbat Shalom!

Chodesh Tov!

Sincerely yours,

Avraham Adam Sabzevari

www.adamstorah.blogspot.com

You Are Sooo Cool!

Glad Greetings,

As I look at the calendar, I realize that Purim is quickly approaching. (Well, I'm not really looking at a calendar. I'm not sure why I even wrote that, but I'm too far in to get rid of it.) This means that I've begun looking at things on Purim, the Megila, and other fun stuff. I really love the Megila. There is so much in it. It's definitely worth your time. If you haven't done so recently, just go through the Megila. I'm sure you'll agree with me. 

I have a very short though on this week's parasha, Parashat Vayakhel. You might have heard this, because it is one of the few Rashi's on this parasha. However, I will try to make it unique, so not to worry.

Parashat Vayakhel includes the construction of the Mishkan, or the portable temple that the Jews used in the desert. The man in charge of the construction of the Mishkan was Besalel, who was from the tribe of Yehuda. He had a helper, the number two in command, the "vice" constructor, who was named Aholiav, from the tribe of Dan. 

The tribe of Yehuda was a pretty important tribe. The King of Israel comes from Yehuda. David Hamelech was from this tribe. Mashiach will eventually come from this tribe. The tribe of Dan, on the other hand, was not as great. Dan was one of the children of the maids, whereas Yehuda came from Leah. When comparing the two, Rashi explains that Yehuda is a lot more important than Dan.

To tell you the truth, it pains me to even write this. Who am I to say that Yehuda's shevet is better than Dan's shevet? Was it Dan's fault that his mother was a maid? Was it even her fault? And who's to say that even makes Yehuda better? Why are we comparing two people because of their mothers? And even if we want to compare them because of their positions, because Yehuda was the king, why would we do that? One person should not be compared to a second person! A person should be compared to his potential, what he can do. A person should be evaluated based on how he performs, not by his family. So, I would really never think to say this. In my opinion, I don't know if Yehuda's tribe is any better than Dan's tribe. I have no clue. I'll let Hashem be the Judge. As for me, both tribes are great. However, this is what Rashi says, and I am only quoting him.

However, that is not all that Rashi says. Rashi explains that in the construction of the mishkan, these two shevatim are placed together. They are equated. This is exactly the point; that no matter what you think or how others perceive people, they are all the same. Besalel and Aholiav worked on the mishkan together, despite their social statuses, simply because Hashem doesn't view people differently.

A lot of times, we will naturally give one person more respect than another. If this guy has money, I would like to shake his hand for a little longer than the guy who will probably ask me for some money. If this guy is socially popular, I would prefer to spend time speaking to him, as opposed to listening to some socially awkward, depressed guy about his problems. If this friend of mine knows people and has connections, it would probably be more beneficial to say hi to him rather than to say it to the guy who is always alone.

But that's not how we view it. We don't compare people. We don't give more attention to one person because he is from a better family. Or at least, we shouldn't.

So here's a challenge. Let's see if you're up for it. This week, at any point during the week, go speak to someone, even though you don't necessarily want to speak to him. See how it makes him feel. See how it makes you feel. See how it makes Hashem feel. (You can't really see how it makes Hashem feel, but I wanted to write the sentence three times, to make it more poignant.)

Shabbat Shalom!

Sincerely yours,

Avraham Adam Sabzevari

Stop Being So Good

Shalom to all,

I hope all is going well (although me hoping that won't really change anything). If you are from the New York area, then you know that the weather has been a lot nicer this week. Also, as I write this D'var Torah, it is Purim Kattan, which is pretty cool. If you don't know what Purim Kattan is, just ask, and I'll reply, bli neder.

There is a very interesting Gemara (Avoda Zara 4b), and honestly, it is a bit shocking. I’ve been telling it over to a few people this week, and apparently, very few people know about it. Usually, when there is something as interesting as this, people know it. People hear things in shiurim or read them in Divre Torah. However, for some odd reason, people don’t know this Gemara. This makes me think, maybe there is a reason people don't know about it. Maybe Rabbis don't speak about this in their Divre Torah for a reason. Maybe this is just something that it's better for people not to know? If that’s the case, then I probably shouldn’t say it over, right? If people don’t say it over for a reason, why am I going to ruin that and tell it to the billions of people who are reading this? [Through my sarcasm, I am hinting to the fact that I can write whatever I want; no one is even reading this. This is my personal diary, which is why I am ranting on and on. Either way, I will hopefully address this point - why few people even know about this. Although, that is not true. Many of you reply to my Divre Torah, and I want you to know that I really appreciate that. Thank you very much!]

So I will quote this Gemara with one simple understanding. There are multiple ways of understanding this Gemara, but the message I want to draw will be the same. The Gemara states, the Jewish people were not really “fit” to do the sin of serving the golden calf. They would never really do this sin. So how come it happened? Well, they were forced into doing this sin. Why were they forced in serving the golden calf? The Gemara explains that, they were forced to do this sin so that in the future, people will have some hope and be encouraged to do teshuva. In order to give people a reason to believe in repentance, Hashem forced the Jewish people to do this sin. The consequently were forced to do teshuva, and Hashem forgave them. 

This is what the onlooker will say: "Wow. Look at that. Hashem did so many favors for the Jewish people, performing miracles left and right in their exodus from Egypt, and this is how the Jews repay Him? But even though they did such a terrible thing, Hashem still forgave them. Wow. Hashem really forgives. If Hashem will forgive soooo many people for doing such a terruble sin, He'll definitely forgive me for my sin..."

When people first hear this, they are taken aback. How could it be that Hashem stripped them of free choice? What ever happened to free will? Why would Hashem be so unfair as to force them into doing such a sin?

Like I said, there are many other opinions that learn this Gemara differently, and they solve this issue. They present the Gemara such that they were not really stripped of their free will. For example, the Maharsha explains that when people are very righteous, Hashem helps them to keep on the right path. Hashem helps them stay away and prevents them from sinning. Now, the Jewish people at this stage were complete tzadikim, so Hashem should have helped them and have not allowed to do such a terrible act. However, Hashem allowed them to sin. What didn't he protect them from sin, as He normally does with tzadikim? The answer is because He saw that some good can come out from this, because their returning to Hashem will set a precedent for doing teshuva.

However, I would like to offer another explanation, one that I have just thought of myself. We think that we always have free will. But that is not true. Sometimes, Hashem will take away freedom of choice from you, if there is something more important going on. At this stage of the game, the Jewish people are beginning to become a nation, they are beginning to go on their own, serving Hashem with His Torah.It is important that from the very beginning of such a relationship, they completely understand that it is okay to make mistakes. It is not the end of the world if you do something wrong. As long as you apologize, you learn from it, and you become better because of it. Hashem wanted to make sure that they understand this important lesson, as they began this new relationship with Him. So what did He do? He forced them to sin, and then forced them to do teshuva. Hashem now says, "Look, it's all right to make a mistake. Just do teshuva, and I will forgive you." Imagine if there was no teshuva. You sin once, and game over. You know how many people would give up before they even start? 

Hashem understands that we are humans, because He made us that way. As humans, we will make mistakes. But as long as we learn from them, grow from them, and use them to strengthen our relationship with Him, then this sin, is in fact, the best thing that can happen. (I am NOT saying that you should go sin. If that's what you are getting from this, then I am sorry for not being clear enough. I'm saying that, if someone sins, he must know that it is not the end of the world, as long as he apologizes, does teshuva, and moves forward.)

I hope this was clear. Like I said, people don't know this Gemara, and I think it is because it is difficult to imagine why we would be stripped of our free will. But if we explain that Hashem did this to us once at the beginning of our relationship with Him to set a precedent of repenting, I think it's easier to understand this Gemara.

Please let me know what you think!!!

Sincerely yours,

Avraham Adam Sabzevari

Clean Yourself Up, Man!

Shalom Shalom,

 

In this week's parasha, Parashat Tetzaveh, we are commanded to use pure olive oil for the menorah.

 

"Now you shall command the Children of Israel that they shall take for you pure olive oil (zach)..." (Shemot 27:20).

 

I would like to use this passuk to explain a famous mishna.

 

Rebbi Hananya ben Akashya says: Hashem wanted to give the Jews merit (lezakot et yisrael). Therefore, he increased the amount of Torah and mitzvot.

 

This mishna is giving a reason as to why there are so many mitzvot in the Torah. It seems that if someone were to learn the entire Torah, it would be a never ending project. Even if one were never to forget anything he ever learned or read about Torah, he would still never learn the Torah in its entirety. Why are there so many mitzvot? Why is there so much Torah? This mishna explains, we have a large amount of Torah and mitzvot to give us more opportunities. The more Torah there is, the more options we have of learning different things. If the Torah were small, then we would simply finish it and move on to the next thing. In order to give us the ability to earn reward for our entire lives, Hashem made the Torah very large.

 

"Hashem wanted לזכות את ישראל - lezakot et yisrael." This word, lezakot, means "to give us merit." Hashem is giving us the opportunity to gain merits.

 

However, there is another interpretation of this word, and consequently, of this entire mishna. If we look at this week's parasha, how do we describe "pure" olive oil? The word used in the Torah is זך - zach. Lezakot can also mean "purify." If we use this interpretation of the word, the mishna is teaching us something different.

 

Rebbi Hananya ben Akashya says: Hashem wanted to purify the Jews (lezakot et yisrael). Therefore, he increased the amount of Torah and mitzvot.

 

Unfortunately, there are many things in this world that hurt us. Different words that we hear, different things that we see. This week, I was standing somewhere, and there was a man talking on the phone. Apparently, this man was extremely upset, and had an interesting choice of words to express this anger. After listening to this guy for one minute, I have heard words and descriptions that I really haven't heard in the past three years combined. This incident wasn't even my fault, but afterwards, I felt tainted. How much more so if I were the person who were saying these words!!! If a person looks at something that he shouldn't look at, this leaves an impression on his soul, and it is not something good to carry around with him. If a person eats something that is not kosher, this food will have its effect on the person; it will literally go through the person's blood, leaving its destructive mark. If a person thinks about something that he shouldn't be thinking about, these ideas remain in his subconscious/unconscious. They will remain in his head for who knows how long!

In all of these cases, as in many more examples, a person can be tainted, contaminated, and dirtied by his experiences. With so many opportunities of destruction, what can one do to combat these terrible effects? How can one purge himself from these influences that have become so deeply embedded in his blood?

Rebbi Hananya ben Akashya says: Hashem wanted to purify the Jews (lezakot et yisrael). Therefore, he increased the amount of Torah and mitzvot.

In order to purify yourself from the contamination of the world, one must learn Torah. Hashem wanted us to have the ability to purify ourselves. He didn't want the bad impressions to be engraved on our souls as though they were etched in stone. He, therefore, gave us many opportunities. He increased the amount of Torah there is out there.

Every second that one learns Torah, one must believe that he is purifying himself from impurities. Doing a single mitzvah will clean his soul from his previous contamination. When one uses his brain to think about something having to do with Torah or a mitzvah, this will take the place of something else that is in his subconscious. He will be able to clear himself. He will be able to purify himself.

 

Very often, although maybe not quite often enough, a person will think about the way he lives his life, and wonders if he is living it correctly. There are many things that one might do that will negatively affect his nature and his being. However, there is one way to undo that. With enough Torah study and with enough good deeds, you will be able to purify yourself. Believe it, because it is true.

Shabbat Shalom!

Sincerely yours,

Avraham Adam Sabzevari

You Can Handle the Truth

Shalom to all,

For this week's D'var Torah, I would like to share a quick yet profound thought. [You must be thinking, "How can you say that your thoughts a profound? Why don't you do the writing, and allow me to decide if it is profound or not." My response to you is, "Fine, Mr. Attitude".]

In this week's parasha, Parashat Mishpatim, we are given the prohibition of lying.

"Distance yourself from a lie" (Shemot 23:7).

It is interesting that the Torah uses an unconventional way to give us this prohibition. "Distance yourself from a lie." What ever happened to the plain and simple, "Don't lie?" Why are we being told to distance ourselves from lie? You don't see it saying, "Distance yourself from murder;" it says, "Don't murder." The Torah does not state, "Distance yourself from sha'atnez;" it says, "Don't wear sha'atnez." (I just picked two random mitzvot, and I can continue with many more, but I won't, to save both of us a few more minutes.) Why is there this peculiar directive of distancing ourselves from lying?

The answer is simple. The Mesillat Yesharim states that, if the Torah would have written, "Don't lie," that would be insufficient. It is not enough simply to not lie. Many times, we will say the truth, just not the whole truth. For example, let's say there is a pie of pizza, and everyone is supposed to take two slices. Now, it turns out that I'm hungry, so I take a third. But it seems that someone didn't get a second slice because I ate his slice. So, someone asks me, "Hey, Adam, did you eat three slices of pizza?" and I respond, "I ate two slices." Now, the truth is, I did eat two slices; however, I didn't stop after two. After I ate two, I ate a third, as well. Did I eat two slices? Yes. Was I lying? No, because I did eat two slices. But was I distant from lying? No. I was on the border of lying. For all intents and purposes, I was lying.

When it comes to lying, we are all geniuses. We can justify anything and we can convince ourselves that we are telling the truth. That is precisely why it is so dangerous. I repeat - that fact that you can even fool yourself is the very reason that lying is so dangerous. Once you don't even realize that you are lying, you will never be able to stop. You will ruin all your relationships, be it in the work field, with a friend, or with a family member. It simply will not work.

It is for this reason that the Torah states, "Distance yourself from a lie." It is not enough to tell the truth; but you always have to say the complete truth, free of even the tiniest smidgen of a lie.

Sometimes, it hurts to tell the truth. Especially when you are caught in an extremely uncomfortable situation, like my pizza example above. It's very easy to just lie and save yourself SO MUCH embarrassment. We all know exactly what I mean. Even so, just tell the truth, even if it embarrasses you. If anything, that embarrasment will prevent you from doing other wrong things as well. So in a sense, truth is the cure-all. And, do you want to be known as a liar? Even for yourself, no one wants to be a liar.

Shabbat Shalom,

I hope you enjoyed the thought, and I hope that you will implement it in your life.

Sincerely yours,

Avraham Adam Sabzevari

"In God We Trust"

Hello,

I often write that the D'var Torah will be short, and it ends up being very long. This week, it actually is short. And I know that because I am writing this introduction after I have already completed writing the D'var Torah.

At the very end of this week's parasha, Parashat Yitro, after we have all heard ten commandments, Hashem warns us, once again, not to make any idols or physical statues to serve as gods.

"Do not make for yourselves gods of silver and gods of gold" (Shemot 20:20).

Very simply, do not make statues out of gold and silver. Of course, you cannot make statues made out of anything. But these are two precious metals that idol-worshipers would use when constructing their gods. So the simple understand is: do not make statues out of gold and silver.

I once heard a cute interpretation of this passuk. The subject of this prohibition is not a statue; the subject of this prohibition is gold and silver. Do not make gold and silver your gods. Don't allow gold and silver to be your gods. Before the concept of paper money, people used to use gold and silver as their currency. Therefore, gold and silver refer to the very concept of money. As we all know, everyone loves money. But we cannot let it take over our lives. We cannot allow money to be our gods, allowing it to dictate our every action in life. If we're constantly thinking about how to make money, then we are doing exactly that - being servants to money. If we push aside the important things is life, like family, friends, religion, then which god do we actually believe in? On the US dollar bill, there is a nice quotation: "IN GOD WE TRUST." The question is, what "God" is the dollar bill referring to? Is it referring to Hashem? Or is it referring to itself?

This is something we all know, so there is no need to elaborate. All I can say is, take a second to think and ask yourself, "Am I a servant to the dollar bill?" May we all be blessed to have enough parnassa without letting it take over our lives.

Shabbat Shalom!
Avraham Adam Sabzevari

So How Come the Jews Sang?

Shalom,

In last week's D'var Torah, I wrote about how Hashem didn't want to hear the angels' praise as the Egyptians died because He isn't too happy about the fact that His creations (i.e. the Egyptians) are dying. Even though they were wicked, Hashem is nevertheless not too excited about killing His own creations.

Question: So why did Moshe Rabbeinu and Miriam HaNeviah lead the Jews in singing praise to Hashem? If Hashem didn't want to hear singing and praises for killing the Egyptians, why did the Jewish people sing?

I have heard two answers and I have an answer of my own, but I am still unsatisfied. Please let me know your thoughts, or if you have an additional response.

(1) The angels are on a higher level than human beings. Their singing is more highly regarded than our singing. Hashem can tolerate listening to our praises and songs because we are but human beings. However, the angels' singing is so above and beyond, Hashem can't hear such beautiful praise as his creations are being destroyed. So Hashem quieted the angels and allowed us to continue singing.

(2) One of my friends responded with the following answer, that he had heard from Rabbi Eli Mansour. As we have already explained in the first answer, the angels' songs were extremely beautiful. But as opposed to the first answer, it's not that Hashem doesn't want to hear the praise, but there is actually another issue here. If people are to hear the praise of the angels, the beauty of their songs would cause people's neshamot to just leave. If the Egyptians were to hear the angels' praise, they would die as a result of the beautiful praises. Hashem quiets the angels because He wants them to suffer a painful death. "My people are drowning! Let them drown!! Don't let them have the easy way out by having their neshamot lifted out of them when their listen to your praises!" It's not that Hashem didn't want to hear the praisesHimself; He didn't want the Egyptians to hear their praised. On the contrary, Moshe Rabbeinu and the Jews did not have such powers. Therefore, it makes sense that Moshe and the Jews sang a song. In fact, Hashem wanted to hear their praises. He simply didn't want the angels to sing, becuase that would give the Egyptians and easier death.

[I personally have a hard time with this answer. I believe that it is taking the Gemara and twisting it to teach the opposite lesson. In my opinion, the point of the Gemara is to show Hashem's sensitivity, that He doesn't even want the wicked to suffer. This explanation, however, suggests that He doesn't want them to even have an easy death, but He wants them to suffer a painful death. So I do not think that this is a correct explanation of the Gemara. Also, as a side point, how come only the Egyptians would hear the praise but the Jews would hear the praise? Why would the Egyptians die upon hearing the praise and not the Jews? However, Rabbi Mansour knows what he's talking about. So perhaps you can help me understand this?]

(3) This third answer is what I think might be the correct explanation; however, I remain unconvinced. There is an obvious and extreme difference between the angels and the Jews. The Jewish people were enslaved by these Egyptians for over 200 years. They were worked, beat, and even murdered. No one cared about them. Now, Hashem performs all of these miracles for them, brings the ten plagues, basically forces Pharaoh to send them free, splits the sea before their very eyes, and drowns the very people that were beating them for the past 200+ years. Do you know how much the Jews owe Hashem at this point? He performed miracle after miracle. After drowning the Egyptians, the Jews can sleep well at night. They have nothing to worry about. OF COURSE THE JEWS WILL SING PRAISE. Hashem did them such a favor, are they not even supposed to say thank you? Hashem saved their lives, and even though He had to kill Egyptians in the process, the Jews MUST be thankful. Even though part of the song has to do with how the Egyptians drowned, they must praise Hashem for this miracle that He performed for them.

But why are the angels singing? Were they enslaved? Were they beat? Did they have to watch every firstborn angel being murdered? Did they watch Hashem split the sea for them? Did they eye-witness the drowning of their enemies? NO! This had nothing to do with them. They don't have to thank Hashem! They don't have to sing. Normally, they praise Hashem and sing to Him for everything that He does. But when Hashem's creations are drowning, it's better that they save it for some later time.

In other words, Hashem doesn't want to hear praise at this time. But He did so many miracles for the Jews, concluded with this cherry on top, the Jews MUST praise Hashem during this bitter-sweet moment. They must show their gratitude. How can they not say thank you after what just happened? But the angels should not be singing now, because they weren't the ones who were saved.

Sincerely yours,

Adam Sabzevari

I Don't Wanna Hear It

Dear all,

I have told myself that it is better to write something small than nothing at all. So here goes.

In this week's parasha, Parashat BeShalach, the Jews leave Egypt. Shortly thereafter, the Egyptians regret emancipating the Jews, so they chase after them. However, Hashem did not let the Egyptians attack the Jews. 

ולא קרב זה אל זה כל הלילה - "This did not approach that the entire night" (Shemot 14:20).

What is this? What is that? What did not approach what for that entire night?

The simple understanding is that this verse is referring to the two camps: the Jews and the Egyptians. "The camps did not approach each other that entire night" (Rashi).

However, the Gemara in Masechet Megillah (10b) has a cute and insightful explanation of this verse. In order to explain where the Gemara is coming from, let me ask you a question. Do you know the phrase זה אל זה (zeh el zeh) from anywhere? Does it sound familiar? If you have ever been in a synagogue as the minyan recites kedusha (i.e. nakdishach, or nekadesh, or keter, or na'aritzcha), then you probably know the phrase "וקרא זה אל זה ואמר" (ve'kara zeh el zeh ve'amar). We say this during kedusha. When we say this, whom are we referring to? The angels. We speak about how the Heavenly angels cal each other and gather around to praise Hashem.

On that note, I will explain how the Gemara explains this passuk.

A little later, the sea splits, the Jews cross through, and when the Egyptians enter the sea to cross it, the sea returns and drowns all the Egyptians. As the Egyptians were drowning, the angels were so happy. They decided that they will gather together and praise Hashem for ridding the world of Egyptians. However, Hashem did not appreciate their praise at this time. "My creations are drowning in the sea, and you're singing praise?" Hashem did not allow the angels to praise Him for this act. How can you be happy as these human beings were dying? Granted, they were wicked, ruthless, murderers. But at the end of the day, they are Hashem's creations. 

"This did not approach that the entire night."  What does the verse mean? The verse is referring to the angels. The angels did not gather around each other that night to praise Hashem as the Egyptians were drowning. Hashem simply did not want to hear it.

[Question: So why did Moshe Rabbeinu lead the Jews in singing praise to Hashem? What do you think the answer is?]

We can learning something amazing from this Gemara. Hashem does not want His creations to go to waste. And by consequence, we don't want that to happen either. Obviously, there will be evil people in the world, and we don't want evil in this world. And if that means people have to die, then that's what has to happen. But that's not the ideal.  Ideally, no one will be evil. And even if there is evil, we should try to rid the world of evil, but not of evil people. We can pray for sin to be removed from this world as opposed to praying for sinners to be removed. We can do whatever we can to increase kindness in this world and try to make ourselves and others better people. But ideally, we do not want other people to die; we just want them to be good.

Like I said, we don't want evil in this world, and we can't change everyone, so that means we don't like certain people. But, ideally, such should not be the case. We like all people; we just don't like evil. Hashem knew He had to kill the Egyptians; however, that doesn't mean He was happy about it.

This is food for thought. I give the food. You do the thinking.

Shabbat Shalom!

Sincerely yours,

Avraham Adam Sabzevari

Hmmm...I'm Not Sure...

Hello!

Well, the Fall 2010 semester is complete, which means I have some free time. But I have become a working machine during the semester, so I can't just sit and do nothing. Whatever, I'll be all right.

In this week's parasha, Parashat Bo, the last three of the ten makkot occur, including the death of the firstborns.

And Moshe said, "So said Hashem, 'At around midnight, I shall go out in the midst of Egypt. Every firstborn in the land of Egypt shall die...'" (Shemot 11:4-5). 

When it comes time for the last plague, Moshe stares at Pharaoh square in the eye (Rashi) and says, "At about midnight, the firstborns will die." The Gemara is Berachot (4a) asks, why is Moshe estimating the time? Why is he telling Pharaoh an approximate time, give or take a few minutes. At like 12-ish. Could it be that Moshe didn't know when it would be exactly 12 midnight? I mean, it's possible. It's not like he had 10-10 Wins to make sure his watch was accurate. There was no way for him to tell at exactly what time midnight would be. So maybe Moshe simply didn't know when midnight would be exactly.

But that's not what the Gemara says. Before I share what the Gemara writes, I'll write what I think might be a practical answer, that I heard years ago. The passuk says, "At around midnight, I shall go out in the midst of Egypt." Why does Hashem say that He will go in the midst of Egypt? Let's pretend that something was going to happen in America. This would happen at one instant, across the entire nation. For example, let's say there's a Super Bowl, and the entire nation would like to watch it. Would it be sufficient to say that the game begins at 6:00 pm? Well, if you're a New Yorker, you'll answer, "Of course! That's perfect. What? Are there any other timezones in America? What? Really? There are? Oh, well they probably don't have televisions yet. Those out-of-towners." But, for anyone else, saying 6:00 pm will not suffice. You have to say 6:00 pm, Eastern Standard Time, or Central, or Mountain, or Pacific. If something is going to happen nationally at one moment, you have to define where exactly is your frame of reference. When Hashem says that He will smite the firstborns at midnight, he tells us which location He refers to - in the midst of Egypt - also known as, Central Standard Time (for Egypt). However, Egypt isn't so large. They don't have different time zones. They're all within a few minutes of each other. So people living to the east would have it at 12:02 am, and people to the west would have it at 11:58 pm. But they will all have it at approximately midnight, in their own respective locations.

The Gemara answers something else. Moshe didn't say "around" midnight because of the geographic factors. He said it because he knew that many of the Egyptians don't know how to calculate the exact time. Their watches are a little ahead, a little behind. Some had Verizon, some had Sprint, and some even had Cingular. So, what happens if it strikes 12, and the firstborns are still alive? Well, the entire nation will be ecstatic that Moshe was wrong. Moshe said midnight - here were are at midnight, and we're still alive. I'm sure the party was ruined when they died a minute later. But it doesn't matter that every firstborn died, because Moshe was wrong. We don't know why the firstborns died, but it couldn't have had anything to do with the Jews, because Moshe was wrong. He didn't want them to be able to claim that he was wrong, even though he would be correct. So he said, "At around midnight..."

The Gemara says, "A person should always say, 'I don't know,' lest he be proven wrong. The Gemara teaches us an important lesson. We shouldn't sound too confident in ourselves. Even if we know, it doesn't matter. We don't have to say, "I know." It's all right to say, "I think," or, "I'm not sure, but my gut is telling me..." By saying I'm not sure, even if you are sure, you give yourself room. If you turn out to be right, and the other guy realizes that, great. If you turn out to be right, and the other guy doesn't realize that because his watch is ahead, also great, because you gave yourself some room. And if you turn out to be wrong, also great, because you stated that you aren't so sure.

May we all have the humility to say that we aren't sure of something, even if we are. [Obviously, if someone is asking you a halachic question that needs to be answered immediately, if you know the answer, don't say that you don't know. But if it isn't a pressing issue, better to say you don't know.]

Yours truly,

Avraham Adam Sabzevari

--
For questions, comments, criticisms, or suggestions, please email adamsabzevari@gmail.com. We are awaiting your feedback. :)
www.adamstorah.blogspot.com

There's Not Enough Room For The Both Of Us

Shalom!!

I don't have much time to write this week; however, I would like to keep (establish) some continuity. So I will write something short.

In this week's parasha, Parashat Va'era, Hashem strikes Egypt with the the first seven of ten plagues. The second plague is tzefardeya, traditionally known as the infestation of frogs through the land of Egypt, including in their houses, bedrooms, and ovens. Frogs galore. Everywhere they look, they see frogs. Good luck sleeping at night with all of the ribit-ing. They were always making noise, and the Egyptians couldn't run away from them. They were in their bathrooms (that's correct - they were rude), they were in their beds. And they were loud. Like a pounding headache that doesn't stop, for a week straight! And it wasn't just a few people - it was the entire nation. After a while, the Egyptians went crazy and had enough of the frogs. Pharaoh asks Moshe to pray to Hashem and to ask to have all of these frogs removed. 

Moshe said to Pharaoh, "Glorify yourself over me. For when should I pray for you...to remove the frogs from you?"...And [Pharaoh] said, "For tomorrow." [Moshe] said, "As you wish - so that you will know that there is none like Hashem..." (Shemot 8:5-6)

When Pharaoh asks Moshe to pray for the Egyptians to have the frogs removed, Moshe asks, "When would you like the frogs to leave? For when should I pray to have these frogs leave? Glorify yourself over me." What is Moshe saying? Moshe is saying, I'll give you a chance to glorify yourself over me, to make me look bad - You tell me exactly when you want the frogs to leave, and I will have them removed at that very instant. Ask for whenever you want, and if I am wrong, then you will have glorified yourself over me by embarrassing me and by showing that my G-d isn't so powerful after all.

When Pharaoh hears this, he immediately thinks of poker. Pharaoh knew how to play poker and was, in fact, very good at it. And he knew knew a bluff when he saw one. He was sure that Moshe was bluffing. Pharaoh thought to himself, Why would Moshe put so much on the line? He could have simply went and prayed for the frogs to leave. Why does he want me to pick a time? Aha! It must be that he knows that the frogs are leaving now! It must be that he has inside information that the frogs are leaving now, and he expects for me to say that I want the frogs gone NOW. Oh, you tricky Moshe, I can smell your bluff. I don't want the frogs to leave today; I want the frogs to leave TOMORROW!!! 

Pharaoh assumed that the frogs would leave today regardless, and Moshe would be embarrassed because Pharaoh only requested that the frogs leave tomorrow.

Lo and behold, the frogs stayed over one more night, and they only left on the next day, as Moshe prayed for, as Pharaoh requested of Moshe.

The nations is going crazy, and Moshe tells Pharaoh that he can fix things, and he can do it right now if Pharaoh wants. But Pharaohs pride is too big. He doesn't care about his nation. He doesn't care about his family. He doesn't even care about himself. He care about his pride! He wants to prove Moshe wrong so badly, that he is willing to make his entire nation suffer for another day. And at the end, he was still wrong. How do you think his pride felt went he realized that it wasn't a bluff? How do you think he felt when he realized that he has only glorified Moshe even more?

There are many times that our pride gets in the way of our rationale. We can't think straight if our pride gets in the way. In fact, many relationships don't work out because of this. Many people simply cannot get along because there's not enough room in this town for the both of us (what they really means is that there isn't enough room in this town for the both of our prides). 

We should always be conscious of pride, and how it can destroy us. As the Mishna in Pirket Avot (4:21) says, "Jealousy, lust, and pride remove a person from this world." If you ever feel that this is happening to you, maybe take a step back, realize what's happening, and hopefully you do things correctly.

Shabbat Shalom!

Sincerely yours,

Avraham Adam Sabzevari

--
For questions, comments, criticisms, or suggestions, please email adamsabzevari@gmail.com. We are awaiting your feedback. :)
www.adamstorah.blogspot.com

All The Time In The World

Hello,

So this is week 2 of my hot streak. It's hard to call it a hot streak if it is only the second email in a while, but I can call it whatever I want. 

In this week's parasha, many events transpire, and the societal status of the Jewish people shifts drastically. The Egyptians enslave the Jews and kill all newborn baby boys. They were very cruel and it is very difficult to think about how much suffering our nation went through. Then, we are told of Moshe's birth, and ironically enough, the savior of the Jewish people lives in Pharaoh's palace, right underneath his nose. [Who said Hashem doesn't have a sense of humor?] Then, Moshe is chased away from Egypt, and he begins his family in Midian. Moshe is then approached by Hashem by means of a burning bush, convincing and persuading him to go save the Jewish people. When he finally accepts this noble task, you can almost hear the background music is crescendo, becoming more exciting. He heads toward Pharaoh, ready and equipped with Hashem having his back. He first tells the Jews that he is here to save the day, and the crowd goes wild. Then he finally goes to Pharaoh and makes his demands - "Let my people go." It would have been great if Pharaoh acquiesced and would just let us leave; but Pharaoh had other plans. He did not the the Jewish people go. Furthermore, he increased the slave-labor workload. 

Pharaoh said to the taskmasters..."You shall no longer give the people straw to make bricks, [as you have been previously doing so]. Let them go and gather straw for themselves. And do not diminish the quota that they have previously been keeping up to. For they are idle; therefore they cry, saying, 'Let us go...'" (Shemot 5:6-8).

Previously, they had to make bricks, but they were at least given straw to make the bricks with. Now, they have to gather the straw themselves and continue to make the same amount of bricks that they have previously been making. 

The Mesillat Yesharim explains something that I personally see occurring in my life on a daily basis, and I am sure that it applies to the majority of us. When the Jewish people, with Moshe as their representative, came to request freedom (or even to have a vacation to bring some korbanot), Pharaoh became a little worried. He though to himself, "If the Jews have time to think about leaving, they might devise a plot to start a rebellion." Pharaoh knew that he had to snip this at its bud. Thinking is a function of time. You can only think if you have the time to think. If you don't have time, you won't be able to think. These Jews are idle! They have too much free time. That is why they ask to leave. They think too much. How can Pharaoh make sure that they don't think? Well, if he dumps a whole load of extra work to do, they won't have any free time to think. They'll be too busy working, and if they are to slack off, they'll be whipped. It's a fail-proof system. More work means less thinking, which means less danger of rebellion.

So you're probably thinking, what does this have to do with Adam's life on a daily basis? Why is he making bricks? I'm trying to figure that one out myself.

Pharaoh's plan is used by your evil inclination. Even if you don't believe that you have an evil inclination within you, a little guy telling you what to do, you can still relate to this point. When you are very busy, you sometimes forget to do the most important things. In this case, the Jews were unable to think about getting out of Egypt. For others, they aren't able to spend quality time with the families or friends, or they aren't spending enough time thinking about what they want to do with their lives. Where do you picture yourself 20 years from now, and are you taking the necessary steps to get there? Is there a certain attribute that you want to have, but you simply never got around to working on it? Do you want to write weekly Divre Torah to keep in touch with your friends, family, and people that mean so much to you, but you get caught up with other things that are unarguably not as important? Do you ever feel like you should make a phone call to keep in touch with someone but never get the chance? Did you ever have a desire to learn something specific regarding halacha but the opportunity never knocked on your door? Do you often see yourself going with the flow, instead of swimming to where you want to be? Have you ever seen so many consecutive questions?

The point is clear. Pharaoh knew that as long as people are busy, they will not be able to progress. So, as we all know, we have busy lives. What are we supposed to do? The answer is simple: Make time. When you have to get something done, just do it. Don't waste time, and NEVER procrastinate. Just do it. And if you are very busy and doing everything you want to do will mean that you will have to cut out the wasteful times out of your day, that is a decision that you have to make - but it should be fairly simple - do you prefer progressing or wasting?

May we all have the energy within to get things done, and hopefully, may we never feel that we are simply going with the flow.

Good Shabbat (it's a hybrid, if you know what I mean)!

Avraham Adam Sabzevari

--
For questions, comments, criticisms, or suggestions, please email adamsabzevari@gmail.com. We are awaiting your feedback. :)
www.adamstorah.blogspot.com