Animal Sacrifices: You or Them

by Rabbi Pinchas Winston

ONCE BACK IN the 1980s while driving a car I came across a talk show on the radio. Normally I would have just turned off the radio, but the topic gave me reason to pause, and the person calling in gave me reason to worry about the future of mankind. Those worries have since materialized.

The show debated whether animals should be used for scientific experiments. One man who sounded middle-aged said that he felt animals should not be used for such purposes, so after some give-and-take, the talk show host decided to push the envelope a bit and asked, somewhat emphatically, “So you’re telling me sir that if your son was dying and a potential cure depended upon animal testing, you’re rather let your son die?”

All of a sudden, there was silence. Unsuspectingly, the caller had found himself between a rock and a hard place and wasn’t sure how to get out in one piece. You could feel his uncertainty over the airwaves, and I like so many others listening in waited with anticipation for his answer. Would he stick to his liberal guns and “give up” his son, or would he capitulate to the question and contradict himself?

It could have been the anonymity or that he knew the question was only theoretical, but he did not change his mind. Instead, he answered that he would not allow an animal to be used to save a dying son, and you could almost hear a collective gasp, especially from the talk show host.

I don’t know whether he did it for effect, or because he was really upset, but the host did not waste any time making the man pay for his answer. “WHAT! ARE YOU KIDDING ME? ARE YOU SAYING THAT YOU WOULD RATHER AN ANIMAL LIVE AND YOUR OWN SON DIE?”

I don’t know if the caller sank deeper into his chair at that moment, but I felt myself doing it for him. I also don’t recall what happened after that, other than driving and thinking if the man really meant what he answered, or was just too embarrassed to change his opinion when it came to his own family. But I do know that many others share his opinion, probably more so today than ever before.

The matter is not much different when it comes to animal sacrifices. If the Temple service were to return today, you can be sure that animal activists would be circling the Temple, protesting animal sacrifices, and trying to shut down the service. Fortunately, when the Temple does finally return it will during the Messianic Era when all people will be on the same page as God.

In the meantime, there is debate, even on the level of the Rambam and the Ramban. The Rambam famously held that God only commanded animal sacrifices to wean us off of the heathen practices of that time. The Ramban strongly disagrees, arguing that the Torah’s use of God’s holiest Name when commanding them reveals just how holy they are.

There is no such debate on the level of Kabbalah. Kabbalah not only holds like the Ramban, but it even explains the impact animal sacrifices have on Tikun Olam—World Rectification. God obviously values His creations, especially the living ones and we even have laws about not unduly causing them pain. But when Adam HaRishon ate from the Aitz HaDa’as Tov v’Ra he damaged the world, and that has necessitated certain rectifications to fix it, often painful ones.

Like war, for example. How many human lives have been sacrificed on the battlefield over the millennia to protect good from evil? We obviously go into battle with at least the belief that we will return alive. But we know that there is a very strong chance that many will not, like in the Battle of Normandy in 1944, and yet we go out into battle anyhow.

Animal sacrifices also became necessary as part of the tikun process after the sin of Adam. His sin affected four levels: the mineral world, the vegetation world, the animal world, and the human world, and an animal sacrifice according to the Torah rectified all four. The salt used corresponded to the mineral world, the wood that was burned, the vegetation world, the animal that was offered up obviously rectified the level of the animals, and the human bringing the sacrifice fixed the level of man.

This may be why the Torah mentions on the word “vayikra” the Aleph is smaller to distinguish between the prophecy of Moshe Rabbeinu and Bilaam. The point could have been made elsewhere, like in Parashas Bilaam where it might have been more appropriate.

Making the point because of a word that implies God’s endearment of Moshe may be to tell us that sacrifices, like the opinion of the Ramban, are dear to God. You tell important things to the ones you cherish, and what follows after God’s endearing call to Moshe is the sacrifices.

Personally, I’m an animal lover. All animals fascinate me. I even talk to them but, don’t worry, I don’t hear them talk back to me, at least not in any language I can understand (although, I do get the drift when a cat arches its back and hisses menacingly at me). I have difficulty stepping on ants.

But I love God more, and my relationship with Him is the top priority. I’d rather no one have to pay for any of my mistakes, not even animals. But I make them, and the only One Who can tell how to fix them is God. And if that includes an animal sacrifice…
www.thirytsix.org / www.shaarnunproductions.org / @ShaarnunProductionsInc (YouTube).

Haggadah Shel Pesach, “The Wise Son Says,” is available in Paperback and Hardcover through Amazon and, PDF version, through Thirtysix.org.

Good Shabbos,
​Pinchas Winston
​Thirtysix.org / Shaarnun Productions

Rabbi Doniel Glatstein on Vayikra: The Meaning of the Vilna Gaon's Remez To All the Korbanos In the First Pasuk of Shema (video)

Rabbi Ari Kahn: Spring (video)

Rav Kook's Ein Ayah: Immediate vs Eternal Needs; Emotional and Intellectual Prayer

Immediate Vs Eternal Needs
(based on Ein Ayah, Berachot 1:137)

Gemara: [Yeshaya told Chizkiya, a righteous king, that he was going to die in this world and be excluded from the world to come. Chizkiya enquired why he deserved such a strong punishment.] “Because you did not take part in procreation.” Chizkiya explained: “It is because I saw in ruach hakodesh (Divine revelation) that bad children will come from me.” Yeshaya responded: “What do you have to do with Hashem’s secrets?”

Ein Ayah: Chizkiya, who, as a king, was concerned with the present, feared for the nation’s present situation. He saw, with the spirit of Hashem he possessed, that if he would beget children, they would be destructive, which would cause much destruction if they would sit on the throne.

However, Yeshaya said to him: “What do you have to do with Hashem’s secrets?” The significance of these words is as follows. Prophecy looks at the eternal situation of the nation, in regard to which the days of one generation are not considered to have much importance. If the chain of kingdom would be stopped and leave the ruling family, this could cause an eternal fall. In contrast, the stumbling block that could be caused by one wicked king who emanated from the seed that Hashem chose would pass because, at the end, the seat would be set on the base of justice and straightness. Therefore, Yeshaya was telling Chizkiya that he had no right to interrupt the eternal dynasty due to a temporary vision that appeared to him in ruach hakodesh.

Emotional and Intellectual Prayer
(based on Ein Ayah, Berachot 1:141)

Gemara: “Chizkiya turned his face to the wall and prayed” (Yeshaya 38:2). What is the wall? Rabbi Shimon ben Lakish said: from the walls of his heart.

Ein Ayah: There are prayers that come from an intellectual feeling. This occurs when the intellect looks at the crucial need to pray and recognizes prayer’s great value. Realize that the intellect is related to the spirit of the heart that dwells in the cavity of the heart. However, when one powerfully requests mercy, to the point that the physical powers are also moved by the emotion of prayer, and it turns out that the prayer works on the body and not only the soul, it is called a prayer from the wall of his heart. In other words, it does not come only from the cavity of the heart but also from the involvement of the flesh, as the pasuk says: “My heart and my flesh will sing out to the Living G-d” (Mishlei 27:22). (Mishlei 27:22).

The Rationale of Sacrifices

by HaRav Mordechai Greenberg
Nasi HaYeshiva, Kerem B'Yavneh

After Sefer Shemot concludes with the construction of the mishkan and the dwelling of the Divine Presence in it, Sefer Vayikra opens with the sacrificial service in the mishkan. The Rishonim dispute the rationale of sacrifices:

The Rambam, in Moreh Nevuchim, explains that the sacrificial service comes to draw man away from idolatry. The Torah took man's nature into account, and since common practice then was to sacrifice on altars to the gods, the Torah did not want to detach Israel entirely from this service. "That would have been as if a prophet were to come in our time, who would call for the service of Hashem and say: "G-d commanded you not to pray to him, not to fast, and not to ask his salvation in times of trouble." Therefore, the Divine wisdom retained the form of service that they were accustomed to, and moved it to the service of G-d.

The Rambam brings proof to this from the pasuk in Parshat Beshalach, "G-d did not lead them by the way of the Philistines ... for G-d said, 'Perhaps the people will reconsider when they see a war and they will return to Egypt.'" (Shemot 13:17) G-d was concerned there that Bnei Yisrael were not yet accustomed to act as free men. Here, too, he did not forbid them from offering sacrifices, until they would be detached entirely from idolatry. In short: There is no inherent value to the sacrificial service, but rather it is a means to distance the people from idolatry. Thus, we find in many of the Prophets that there is no inherent purpose in sacrifices, but instead they say: "Does Hashem delight in elevation-offerings and feast-offerings as in obedience to the voice of Hashem?" (Shmuel I 15:22) "'Why do I need your numerous sacrifices?' says Hashem." (Yeshaya 1:11)

The Ramban objects strongly to the Rambam's view, since according to him the entire idea of sacrifices is only, "to counter the wicked and foolish [people] of the world," whereas the Torah says that they have a "pleasing fragrance." He also asks from the sacrifices that Hevel and Noach offered, even before there was idolatry in the world. Rather, the Ramban writes that it is more logical that all the actions in a sacrifice indicate that man deserves to have all of these actions done to him:

He sinned to his G-d with his body and soul, and he deserves that his blood be spilled and his body be burned, were it not for the mercy of the Creator who took from him a substitute. This sacrifice atones, so that its blood should be in lieu of his blood, a soul in lieu of a soul, etc.

However, the Ramban concludes that while this fits well in an Aggadic manner, in the Kabalistic approach, "there is a hidden secret to sacrifices" The Meshech Chochmah, in his introduction to Sefer Vayikra explains that "it is to draw close all the forces of the worlds. It is something electric, spiritual, which, through the actions of the priest, do wonders in the various worlds."

The Meshech Chochmah further explains that, in fact, there is no dispute between the Ramban and the Rambam. The Rambam talks about sacrifices on an altar, which are truly to wean from idolatry, while the Ramban talks about sacrifices in the Temple, which have inherent worth, and about them it says that they have a "pleasing fragrance." These are the sacrifices that Noach and Hevel offered, and even the Rambam agrees to this. He explains with this the reason why it is forbidden to offer on an altar after the destruction of the Temple. This is because then the desire for idolatry no longer exists, and therefore there is no reason to sacrifice on an altar.

Perhaps we can bring proof to his suggestion that the Rambam does not negate the Ramban's words that there is inherent rationale for sacrifices. The Rambam writes in Hil. Me'ilah (8:8) as follows: "All of the sacrifices are in the class of chukim (decrees). Chazal said that the world exists for the service of sacrifices."

Rav Kook on Parashat Vayikra: Black Fire on White Fire

With the construction of the Mishkan complete, the holy structure began to fulfill its primary purpose: a conduit for communication between God and Moshe. “I will commune with you there, speaking to you above the ark-cover” (Shemot 25:22).

Before each actual communication, God would first summon Moshe to the tent, with a voice that only Moshe could hear:

וַיִּקְרָא אֶל־מֹשֶׁה וַיְדַבֵּר ה’ אֵלָיו מֵאֹהֶל מוֹעֵד לֵאמֹר׃

“God called to Moses, speaking to him from the Communion Tent” (Vayikra 1:1).

What was the nature of this Divine call?

The Miniature Aleph and the Four-Pronged Shin
The word vayikra (“He called”) is written in an unusual fashion. The last letter, the aleph, is written in miniature in the Torah. Did God command Moshe to write it that way? Or was this an expression of Moshe's extraordinary humility — an attempt to “hide” the aleph, so to speak, so that it would appear that God only “happened” (vayikar) to speak with Moshe, similar to the chance prophetic experiences of evil Bilaam?

We find a second unusual letter in the tefillin worn on the head. Usually, the letter shin is written with three upward strokes, but the shin embossed on the left side of the tefillin has four. Some commentaries connect this peculiar shin to the Midrashic description of the Torah’s transmission to Israel via black fire engraved on white fire. What does this mean? What are these black and white fires? 

Black Ink on White Parchment
When we think about a Torah scroll, we usually only consider the letters themselves, written in black ink. Yet, the Talmud (Menachot 29a) rules that every letter in a Torah scroll must be completely surrounded by parchment. This requirement is called mukaf gevil. In other words, the white parchment around the letters is an integral part of the Torah; without it, the Torah scroll is disqualified.

In fact, the white space is a higher form of Torah. It is analogous to the white fire of Sinai — a sublime, hidden Torah that cannot be read in the usual manner.

There is a delicate balance between black and white in the Torah. The shirot, the poetic portions in the Torah, are written in a special fashion, like a wall constructed from layers of black and white bricks. These poetic sections are the loftiest parts of the Torah. Consequently, they have more white space, as they contain a greater measure of the esoteric white fire. If a sopher were to write other sections of the Torah in this special layout, the Torah scroll would be rendered invalid. After the Torah was revealed and restricted to our limited world, it must be written with the appropriate ratio of black to white.

What about the four-pronged shin on tefillin? The mitzvah of tefillin is closely connected to the manifestation of Torah after its revelation into the finite world. “All of the peoples of the land shall see that the name of God is called upon you, and they shall be in awe of you” (Devarim 28:10; see Menachot 35b). Thus, tefillin correspond to the lower realm of black fire, and are marked with a shin bearing an extra measure of black.

We can deepen our understanding of the white and black fires by considering another example of white space in the Torah. Extra space is left blank to separate sections of the Torah. Chazal explained that these separations allowed Moses to reflect upon and absorb the previous lesson. In other words, the white fire corresponds to the loftier realm of thought and contemplation. The black fire of the letters, on the other hand, is the revelation of intellect into the realm of language — a contraction and limitation of abstract thought into the more concrete level of speech.

The Divine Call Before Revelation
The distinction between white and black fire also sheds light on God’s call to Moshe before speaking with him. The voice summoning Moses to enter the tent was in fact the divine call from Sinai, an infinite call that never ceased (Devarim. 5:19). The summons would reach Moshe as he stood outside the tent, before being constrained within the four walls of the Mishkan. This voice was not a revelation of Torah, but an overture to its revelation. It belonged to the esoteric white fire of Torah, before its constriction and revelation into the physical world.

This is the reason that Moshe made the aleph of the divine call smaller. Since it belonged to the realm of white fire, the summons required an extra measure of white space over black ink. Superficially, Moshe's miniature aleph humbly implies a diminished state of the revealed Torah of black fire, but on a deeper level, it reflects an increase in the esoteric Torah of white fire.

(Gold from the Land of Israel, pp. 179-181. Adapted from Shemuot HaRe’iyah IV by Rav Chanan Morrison)

Sacrifice

by Rabbi Dov Berel Wein

One of the categories of sacrifices that are described in this week's Torah reading describes the offerings that are meant to bring about forgiveness for sins that one committed inadvertently. The Torah details for us how the sacrifice was to be brought, and what its effects regarding forgiveness from Heaven would then occur.

Even though we live in a time when such animal sacrifices are not possible, one of the main lessons which is pertinent to us is that all forgiveness for wrongdoing requires true "sacrifice" on the part of the perpetrator of the sin. There is no free lunch involved here. The ability to request forgiveness for wrongdoing is completely contingent upon the true contrite feelings of the sinner.

And in our time, being remorseful can be expressed by one's willingness to sacrifice one's own time, wealth, abilities, and even social standing, to achieve the forgiveness so necessary for spiritual and physical survival. In many ways, we are accustomed to sacrifice to achieve goals that we have set for ourselves. We are willing to sacrifice much of our youth and its pleasures, in the hope that we will survive and live comfortably and nicely in our later years. We restrain ourselves, no matter how strong our desires may be, in the hope and belief that this will somehow bring us to a better future. We understand fully that without sacrifice, it is useless to expect forgiveness. And since human beings are, by their nature, imperfect, we are engaged in a continual process of sacrifice and self-restraint.

Rav Moshe ben Maimon – The Rambam - expresses the idea that the sacrifice of an animal on the altar of the Temple should engender in the mind of the sinner who brought forth the sacrifice that the sinner himself or herself should be brought on the altar. The animal being sacrificed is to be seen merely as a substitute for one's own self in attempting to redress past wrongs and trying to engender heavenly forgiveness for transgressions and sins.

Even though we no longer can bring such animal sacrifices on the altar of the Beit HaMikdash, we, nevertheless, can perceive ourselves as being the necessary sacrifice to accomplish our atonement and forgiveness. And this can only be accomplished through regret for the past misdeeds and the stronger permanent commitment of restraint over our future actions and behavior.

It is this deep understanding that we ourselves are the sacrifice that can bring us to a true attainment of forgiveness, in terms of heavenly judgment. In so doing, no detail of our behavior and actions can be considered insignificant or unimportant.

Just as the animal sacrifice cannot contain any blemish or imperfection, so, too, the mental, spiritual, and physical sacrifice entailed in obtaining forgiveness for our sins must be, as far as humanly possible, free from blemish and imperfection. This is a lofty goal to achieve, but it is the only sure path to goodness in life in this world and to the achievement of eternity in the Next World.

MY FOREVER RELEVANT PESACH TALE OF ONE FAMILY – TWO WORLDS

BS”D
Pesach 5785
by HaRav Nachman Kahana

Pesach in the USA
A frum (observant) family at the Seder night, living in any one of the great Torah centers in the galut – Flatbush, Boro Park, Lakewood, Los Angeles or south Florida. The home of Reb Sender and Mrs. Rayza is impeccable; the result of the great time and energy, not to speak of the huge outlay of money, which the expeditious and skillful ba’alat ha’bayit (woman of the house) has devoted to it.

The sofas and armchairs in the sitting room that look so inviting were it not for the thick plastic covers which ensure that the upholstery retains its “new” look.

The five-meter-long, Brazilian Mahogany dining room table is covered with the finest Irish linen tablecloth. In the middle of the table stands the imposing sterling silver candle sticks handed down from mother to daughter for generations. The china is the finest Rosenthal, with each plate delicately rounded off with a band of gold. The silverware has been put away in favor of goldware in honor of the sacred night.

On the table, under a hand embroidered silk cloth, lay the matzot. On the insistence of the two sons who are learning in the recently opened Yeshiva Taharas Ha’Torah (purity of Torah) in Las Vegas, in order to bring the voice of Torah even to the entrance of Gehennom, the matzot are from the first 18-minute batch, guaranteeing that no naughty piece of dough would be hiding in any of the rollers. The hand matzot were personally chosen by the rebbe of the shtiebel (homey synagogue) where the family now davens after leaving the central shul which was costing too much. The rebbe assured the boys that the matzot were bubble-free, with no overturned edges.

The wall-to-wall carpet is as deep as the grass in the beautiful garden. Above the table hangs the family’s pride and joy – a multi-faceted crystal chandelier, personally chosen by Rayza on the family’s last visit to Prague.

Reb Sender is wearing his new bekeshe (silk robe), the one with the swirls of blue, with a gold-buckled gartel (belt). Rayza has just said the Shehechiyanu blessing (gratitude for seeing this day) over the $5000 dress imported from Paris. The boys are handsome in their wide-brimmed black hats and the two girls will make beautiful brides when the time comes, dressed in their very expensive dresses imported from Paris.

The seder goes better than expected; words of Torah, beginning with an invitation to the hungry to join with them in the meal, despite the fact that there is not a needy person within 50 miles. A lively discussion develops on the characters of the “four sons.” The main course of Turkey and cranberry sauce is served, in the finest American tradition dating from the Pilgrims, of giving thanks to the Almighty for all His abundance. The afikomen (ritual dessert matza) is “stolen” by the youngest daughter who, for its return, has succeeded in extorting from Tattie a vacation in Aruba.

Songs of thanks to HaShem for freeing the Jewish people from slavery in Egypt are recited. For it is a mitzva on this night for each person to undergo a déjà vu experience, as if he or she were newly freed slaves from Mitzrayim.

Birkat Hamazon (grace after meals) is said, as is the second part of Hallel. Chad Gadya puts the final touch on the mitzvot of the night. Now, just as HaShem destroys the “Angel of Death” in the song, father jumps up and gathering the family in a circle, they all break out in a frenzy of song — L’shana ha’ba’a Be’Yerushalayim — “Next year in Jerusalem.”

Again and again around the table L’shana ha’ba’a Be’Yerushalayim is sounded. Louder and louder until their song merges with the same melody resounding from the neighbors’ homes, cutting a path into the highest realms of heaven.

Suddenly Mama collapses into a chair, crying hysterically. The singing stops. Father runs over and asks, “Why are you crying just at the apex of the beautiful sacred night?

And between tears Mama answers: “What do you mean next year in Yerushalayim? The table, the chandelier, the deep carpet, the Rosenthal china, the garden! How can we leave all this?”

Father approaches Mama and taking her hand while gently dabbing her tears away, in a voice full of compassion, says to his beloved Rayza, “Darling, don’t cry, IT’S ONLY A SONG!”

Pesach in Eretz Yisrael
Ten thousand kilometers to the east, in Eretz Yisrael, lives Reb Sender’s brother, Kalman and his wife Sarah, who came on aliya years ago with their five children and changed the family name to Yerushalmi. They were blessed with a beautiful family, an adequate apartment and much nachat. Their son, Yossi, will not be home for the Seder night; he was serving in the army within the Hesder yeshiva system.

The parents were not overly worried, because Yossi told them that he is in a safe place in the north and that next year they will all be together for the Seder.

At 12 noon, on the 14th of Nisan, erev Pesach (day before Pesach), Yossi and three other soldiers from the same yeshiva were informed that they had been chosen to fill an assignment that evening, on the Seder night. They were to cross into Hizballah territory in Southern Lebanon and man the bunker on hill 432.

Yossi knew the hill well; he had been there several times in the past year. It was sarcastically called a “bunker,” but in reality, it was nothing more than a foxhole large enough for four soldiers. Their assignment was to track terrorist movements and destroy them on contact. It was tolerable except when it rained, which caused the bottom of the hole to be soggy and muddy. But today, the four hoped that it would rain, even though chances were small since it was late in the season. On the 14th of every Hebrew month when the moon is full, crossing into enemy territory presents a greater danger; so, rain would be a mixed blessing.

At 5:00 PM, they were given the necessary arms and ammunition. The army rabbinate provided them with 4 plastic containers – each holding 3 matzot and all the ingredients necessary for a Seder – as well as 4 plastic bottles of wine, each one containing 4 cups, and of course four Haggadot (ritual text).

At 6:00 PM, they waited at the fence for the electricity to be turned off, in order to cross into hostile territory. Yossi held a map of the minefield they would have to cross. “It was so strange,” Yossi thought. “This is the area assigned to the tribe of Naftali, and we have to enter it crawling on our stomachs.”

At 6:15 PM, the small aperture in the gate opened and they passed through. As they had hoped, it was raining, and the thick fog was to their advantage.

At that moment, 10,000 kilometers to the west, it was 12:15 PM and Yossi’s two cousins in New York were just entering the mikva (ritual bath) to prepare for the sacred night.

The 4 soldiers reached hill 432 after walking double-time for 2 kilometers. They removed the camouflage and settled in, pulling the grassy cover over them.

Each was assigned a direction. Talking was forbidden. If any murderers were sighted, a light tap on the shoulder would bring them all to the exact direction. After settling in, they prayed Ma’ariv and began the Seder. It was finished within a half hour, and they were happy that the 4 cups of “wine” had no detrimental effect on their senses.

At 6:00 PM in NY, the family returned from shul to begin their Seder. At 11:00 P.M. the family was dancing around the table singing the song of hope that they will be in Yerushalayim the following year.

It was then 5:00 A.M. in Eretz Yisrael, and the 4 soldiers were waging a heroic battle against boredom and sleep. The minutes crawled by, and right before the first approach of light, they exited the outpost and returned through the minefield and electric fence to the base. After reporting to the officer in charge, the four entered their tent and collapsed on their cots without removing clothing or shoes, because in an hour they would have to join the minyan for the shacharit service.

That night, the protecting heavenly angels of Yossi and his friends were draped in flowing, golden robes while sharing the heavenly Seder with the righteous of all the generations.

Shabbat Shalom and Chag Pesach Kasher Vesamai’ach,
Nachman Kahana
Copyright © 5785/2025 Nachman Kahana

Do Not Be Fooled by the 'Anti-Hamas' Protests

by Bassam Tawil

• Those who are rushing to celebrate the protests in Gaza need to consider that they are most likely nothing but a show by the Iran-backed Hamas to fool the world into thinking that there is an uprising against the terrorist group.
• After all, this is the same Hamas that kept signaling to everyone, years before its terrorists attacked Israel on October 7, 2023, that it was not interested in another round of fighting. Then it murdered and brutally tortured 1,200 Israelis and kidnapped 251.
• What would Norway or Denmark do if ISIS or Al-Qaeda were on its border, seeking to destroy it?
• According to some reports, Hamas members have been spotted leading some of Gaza's demonstrations.
• Last year, Israel tried to encourage anti-Hamas clans to play a role in managing the Gaza Strip -- without success. Regrettably, several clans have, over the past year, issued statements expressing support for Hamas as the "sole representative of the Gaza Strip."
• The current protests are taking place for one reason only: Hamas is conspicuously losing the war... The protesters are just angry that Israel retaliated so hard.
• All Hamas would have to do for Israel to stop is to free the 59 remaining hostages, only 24 of whom possibly remain alive – but all of whom are victims of a kidnapping that should not have happened in the first place.
• Sadly, there is no alternative to the complete removal of Hamas.... [T]here is no difference between Hamas's political wing and its military wing. Hamas's political wing, in fact, requires the military wing, to be able to stay in power.
• If the West falls for Hamas's latest ploy, the terror group will simply soon be able to take control of the Gaza Strip with a rebranded name. Hamas's primary goal, after all, is to remain in power.
• It is time to stop projecting Western values and aspirations onto Islamist societies. The protests in the Gaza Strip are not a shift toward peace. Instead, they are a symptom of the Palestinians' failure, once again, to achieve their goal of murdering Jews and eliminating Israel.
• Make no mistake: Once the Palestinians recover from the war, they will continue their jihad against Israel. Many of the "anti-Hamas" protesters will then reappear, this time complete with masks, weapons and military gear.

The current protests are taking place for one reason only: Hamas is conspicuously losing the war. It is time to stop projecting Western values and aspirations onto Islamist societies. The protests in the Gaza Strip are not a shift toward peace. Instead, they are a symptom of the Palestinians' failure, once again, to achieve their goal of murdering Jews and eliminating Israel. Pictured: An anti-Hamas protest in Beit Lahia, in the northern Gaza Strip, on March 26, 2025. (Photo by AFP via Getty Images)

The recent anti-Hamas protests in the Gaza Strip are seen by some Western and Arab political analysts as a positive and encouraging development.

Those who are rushing to celebrate the protests in Gaza need to consider that they are most likely nothing but a show by the Iran-backed Hamas to fool the world into thinking that there is an uprising against the terrorist group.

After all, this is the same Hamas that kept signaling to everyone, years before its terrorists attacked Israel on October 7, 2023, that it was not interested in another round of fighting. Then it murdered and brutally tortured 1,200 Israelis and kidnapped 251.

One of Hamas's tactics has been to try to protect its terrorists by hiding them among civilians. According to some reports, Hamas members have been spotted leading some of Gaza's demonstrations.

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Igrot Hare’aya – Letters of Rav Kook: Refuting Criticism by the Ridbaz, part II

 #311 – part II 

Date and Place: 19 Sivan 5670 (1910), Yafo

Recipient and Background: Rav Yaakov David Wilovsky (Ridbaz), a leading rabbi who moved to Eretz Yisrael and was known, among other things, as a strong opponent of leniencies on Shemitta. The main topic of the first installment was the damage of not allowing the Shemitta leniency.

Body: I now respond to your distinction between those who devised the leniency of selling the land, who did not fight for its implementation, and me. This claim does not make sense to me. What reason did he have to fight for it? He (perhaps, Rav Shmuel Mohaliver or Rav Yitzchak Elchanan Spektor) lived in the Diaspora. He did not see the poverty and the pressure upon the farmers, who set their eyes [on the rabbis] to sustain them and their families from their produce, while they were under the pressure of various taxes. Additionally, they have the expense of the Shemitta process, which is cumbersome even after the leniency of the sale of the land. He also did not see the general danger to Judaism that would stem from the proclamation of a prohibition on this matter that people could not uphold.

Those who were here did not need to fight because until this Shemitta year, things proceeded smoothly. Whoever wanted to be stringent for himself did so, but there was no disturbance to people’s ability to sell the produce on which their livelihood depended nor aspersions placed on those who followed the leniency. Similarly, people do not cast aspersions on the many [Diaspora] Jews with large estates, who use non-Jews to work the fields with their animals on Shabbat and holidays, based on a legal fiction of selling the fields to the non-Jews, due to the great loss [if they do not do so]. Only recently have the stringent assembled to publicly criticize and to say that which we should never have to hear; this causes immeasurable problems. How can it be that I, who am positioned in the midst of the Yishuv, would not stand by them?

You also wonder why sinners support me and those who fear Hashem oppose me. Why should it be a wonder? Everyone can see that being stringent will have a negative material impact on the Holy Land’s Jewish community. Therefore, when I act to protect from such danger, they recognize the benefit. Those who fear Hashem only look at the spiritual side, from whose perspective it is better to be stringent. However, there are G-d fearers who have a clear outlook and do not deceive themselves or others. They see my noble intentions and support me.

There is precedent from the time of Ezra, when some great and good people did not want to rebuild the Jewish community of Eretz Yisrael. Ezra took the people with poor lineage and ugly actions, who did not merit blessing, and they desecrated Shabbat even in Eretz Yisrael. Even so, salvation grew from their arrival. The Second Temple was built; we received the publicizing of the Oral Law, the expansion of Rabbinical legislation, and the dissemination of Torah in the Jewish world. (It says in Heichalot that the Torah’s main glory was in the Second Temple period.)

The same thing will happen with Hashem’s help in our times. As we strengthen the developing Yishuv and more brethren will come to settle here, the light of liberation will grow. At the end, all the sinners will repent fully with love and joy, with the help of the light of the Holy Land’s sanctity. This will be aided by Torah scholars who truly serve Hashem and love the Jewish Nation. They will go with them with love and patience, and the whole world will see that the righteous are concerned for the sinners’ welfare. This shall awaken the sleeping spark of Israel’s deeply hidden sanctity, even in the hearts of those who appear bereft [of mitzvot]. All of them together will be a vessel that holds sanctity for Hashem’s nation on His holy soil, which He chose from all the lands.

If only my words will penetrate your heart, and you will join me on this holy path, to help raise the stature of the Yishuv. We will thereby sanctify His Name in the world, and the banner of Torah and the honor of Torah scholars will be elevated on the holy soil.

There are too many donations!

by Rav Binny Freedman

Sometimes, it’s that one extra word that makes all the difference. It was only a fraction of a moment of my time in the army, but it was a lesson I never forgot, though to this day I am undecided as to whether I agree with it.

I was desperate to get a day off; we were still in basic training, and I had barely been in the army three months, but my folks were landing at the airport the next afternoon, and I was hoping my commanders would give me a break as I had not seen head or hair of any family in the two months since I had joined up.

My folks had done me the enormous favor of landing on a Thursday afternoon, which was the best possible day of the week for a tank crewman to get extra leave. Thursday was “Tipul She’vui” day, which meant the weekly servicing and cleaning of every last inch of every tank, top to bottom. In the Israeli army, there are no special maintenance crews that tag along to service the tanks with regular maintenance; unlike the American army, Israeli soldiers have to do it all on their own, and that means getting down and dirty with all the grease and grime, not to mention the endless inspections. Tank crews, often after a week of long maneuvers and little sleep, can usually be found working on their tanks into the wee hours of the morning to prepare for the infamous Friday morning inspections.

Add to that the fact that my unit was meant to get out for Shabbat (Friday morning after inspection), and special leave on Thursday would mean a pass all the way till Sunday, and I was desperate to get the day off.

Which was why I was standing at attention in the glaring sun, waiting for my sergeant to return with the answer to my properly formatted request (by way of the sergeant, to the platoon officer), for a special day’s leave.

I was afraid to dream in case I would be disappointed, yet I couldn’t help myself; visions of a hot bath, a night out on the town, and a real bed with clean sheets swam before my eyes.

The sergeant came out of the command tent a few minutes later, and I was shocked to see he actually had a smile on his face, I had never seen the muscles in his jaw work that way before, and then the one word I had been waiting for:

“Be’seder”, “O.K.”

“Be in your dress uniform at 08:00 hours, and your extra day’s leave is granted.’

I couldn’t help myself; a huge grin spread across my face, and I felt like dancing, and then that one terrible word escaped, the one I still remember:

“Todah.” “Thank you, sir.”

I could tell I was in trouble as soon as the words left my lips, his eyes changed first, then his entire face, and then the glare we all feared, the one that meant you were about to get a serious work-out.

“Mah Zeh?” “What’s that?”

Although I did end up getting out, albeit a good few hours later than I had hoped, I never worked so hard for a pass in my life. You see, in the army, you don’t say thank you.

After running around the base seven times singing “Lo’ Omrim Todah”, “Todah Al Kol Mah’ She’Barata’, and every other song with the word Todah (Thank you) in it that I could think of, they finally let me go, but the message would stay with me forever.

The army, I learned, is about orders and commands. There is no ‘thank you’ and no ‘you’re welcome’; you do what is expected of you because that’s your job.

Thank you implies the possibility you didn’t have to do what it was you were doing, and that you deserve to be thanked for going ahead and doing it anyway. In the army, however, you are always fulfilling orders, and no one would ever expect any less than total compliance, and complete obedience.

You don’t thank your kids for brushing their teeth in the morning, and your children don’t thank you for coming home at the end of the day; it’s just what you do, and who you are, and they would expect no less.

And yet, something has always bothered me about this approach, which never worked for me as a commander.

This week’s portion, Pekudei, is a case in point:

“And all the work of the Mishkan, the Tent of Meeting, was completed, and the children of Israel did all that Hashem had commanded them, so they did (“Ken Asu'”).” (Shemot 39:32)

Why does the Torah have to tell me that the Jewish people did everything that Hashem commanded them to do? Of course, they did! If G-d commanded you to do something, wouldn’t you do it? And note that the verse repeats itself, stressing the fact that they did all that was demanded of them; why is this worthy of mention? Should we have expected anything less?

As if this is not enough, the Torah does not stop there:

“And all that Hashem commanded Moshe, so did the children of Israel do: all of the labor.” (39:42)

Again, the Torah stresses that the Jewish people did it all, which seems redundant. Why is this so important? And then the Torah goes a stage further:

” And Moshe saw all the labor, and behold they did it just as Hashem had commanded, so did they do it, and Moshe blessed them.” (39: 43)

Why, now, all of a sudden does Moshe bless them?

What is the nature of this blessing? Is Moshe thanking them? Since when does Moshe say thank you to the Jewish people for doing what Hashem has asked of them?

Further, why are the Jewish people commanded to build the Mishkan in the first place? The Mishkan was for man’s benefit, not G-d’s. So why are the Jews blessed for fulfilling what was essentially a project for their own benefit? (Either as an opportunity to atone for, or at least somehow rectify the mistake of the Golden Calf, or as a vehicle to develop a more tangible relationship with G-d and create a more meaningful life.)

It would seem the Jewish people should be thanking G- d, and certainly not the other way around! So why is Moshe saying thank you here? And even if this blessing is of a different nature, what need is there for Moshe to offer any comment at all? The people did what was expected of them, end of story! What message is Moshe imparting to us here?

Additionally, it is interesting to note that verse 32 here seems to be out of order.

“And all the work of the Mishkan - the Tent of Meeting, was completed, and the children of Israel did all that Hashem had commanded them, so they did.”

Why does the verse tell me the work was completed and only then tell me the Jewish people did all they were commanded to do? Wouldn’t it make more sense to say that the Jews did all the work they were commanded to do, and thus, the Tabernacle was completed? Why the reverse and more challenging order in this verse?

And if we are discussing the accolades the Jewish people receive for having built the Mishkan exactly according to the specifications, we must also ask: who really built this tabernacle? Did all of the Jewish people lend a hand in the building? The idea that 600,000 men between the ages of twenty and sixty (army age) all got together and participated in this building project makes no sense whatsoever. It is hard enough to get two or three Jews together on a project; can you imagine trying to organize six hundred thousand?

Indeed, the verses are very clear about who actually built the Mishkan: the Chochmei Lev, the artisans under Betzalel and Ohaliav, built it. (See 36:2-4; 8) So why is the entire nation thanked for getting the job done down to the last detail?

It is interesting to note that this entire portion begins with unusual attention to detail; indeed, these are the opening words of the portion, from whence it derives its name:

“Eleh’ Pekudei HaMishkan..” Literally: “These are the accountings of the Mishkan..” (38:21)

Now that the Mishkan has been completed, the Torah gives us what is essentially a treasurer’s report of the collections tally; an accounting of all the income and outlay, and a list of all of the items produced in the making of the Mishkan, down to the last detail. Why is there a need to devote an entire portion to such a detailed list? The Torah is meant to be a recipe for living and a guide to life. Why must we be privy to how many sockets and posts were made, and how much gold and silver was used in the construction?

Many of the commentaries speak of the ethical implications here, and of the need for public servants to be accountable, but is there perhaps a deeper principle at the root of this three-thousand-year-old Excel spread sheet?

Lastly, the end of the portion, which usually relates to the theme and the purpose of all the ideas contained in the entire portion, also requires some explanation.

Recall that this week’s portion is also the concluding portion of the entire book of Shemot. As a rule, when studying a particular portion, the beginning and end of that portion allude to the theme of the entire portion; how the Torah chooses to begin and end a section, speaks volumes about the theme and goals of that section.

The end of this week’s parsha (portion) then, is rather critical towards understanding the theme, and indeed the point, of the entire book of Shemot.

Which makes the end of this book rather puzzling. The Torah tells us (40:34-38) that a cloud covered the tent of meeting, and “the glory of G-d filled the tent.” (Verse 34) And once the glory of G-d filled the Tent, Moshe could not enter it (verse 35). And this cloud, which seems somehow to be representative of the glory (honor?) of G-d, was also, the Torah tells me, the indicator for the Jewish people as to whether they should set forth or make camp. The Jewish people, we are told, in making their travel plans, do not depend on the weather, and they do not travel based on provisions. They watch the clouds of glory, and G-d’s self tells them when and for that matter, where to go.

Why is this the conclusion to the entire book of Exodus? And why is it apparently so important that Moshe could no longer enter the tent of meeting? And what does all this have to do with the issues discussed above?

This portion is clearly about the details, not just the significance of every single detail, but the value of seeing every detail as part of a larger picture.

The Netziv (Rav Naftali Tzvi Yehuda Berlin), the Rosh Yeshiva of Volozhin in the mid-nineteenth century), points out in his Ha’Emek Davar (39:42) that the tendency of most people in pursuit of great dreams, is to go far beyond the tasks at hand, and people tend to get so ‘carried away’ by the process, that they forget what the purpose was in the first place.

Indeed, the prelude to this challenge is already to be found in last week’s portion Va’Yakhel. The people were so excited at the prospect of building the Mishkan, and perhaps so moved by the opportunity to atone for their mistake in building a golden calf, that they could not donate enough goods for the Mishkan. Every morning the piles of material grew at an astounding rate (36:3) until the artisans responsible for the execution of the project could not keep up with the influx of material.

“And they said to Moshe, saying: the people are bringing too much, there is more material than is necessary for the work Hashem has commanded (us) to do.” (36:4)

Can you imagine? There are too many donations! Every Rabbi’s dream: the dinner was so successful there is too much money, and the people keep bringing more!

But still more incredible is Moshe’s response:

“And Moshe commanded and the word was spread throughout the camp saying: let every man and woman do no more work for the donation to the holy, and the people ceased bringing.” (36:6)

Moshe actually tells the people to stop bringing goods to donate to the tabernacle! Why? Why not just keep collecting the money, and put it away for a rainy day? What could possibly be wrong with the people continuing in the pursuit of what was obviously a very important mitzvah?

Perhaps what was really at the root of this dialogue was not what the people were bringing, but rather how they were bringing it.

Sometimes, we get so involved in the process; we forget what it is really all about.

I recall once having been invited to a bar mitzvah, which turned out to be a very lavish affair. The party took place on a Saturday night, and when I arrived it looked more like a wedding than a bar mitzvah, and it seemed very obvious that the guests of honor were indeed the bride and groom, who in this case were the parents of the Bar Mitzvah boy.

There were over four hundred people at this affair, magnificent tables, a band, lavish food, and the only thing missing was the bar mitzvah boy. Wanting to wish him a mazal tov, I finally found him with his friends in a separate room where he and his friends were having their own separate party, complete with dinner and games, Viennese desserts, video technology, a movie they were watching on a large screen, and of course. a cart full of presents which would eventually be wheeled out and opened as the central piece of their evening. It seemed there was plenty of ‘bar’, but very little ‘mitzvah’.

Sometimes, we lose sight of the purpose of what we are doing and allow ourselves to get caught up in the process of accomplishing it. Perhaps what was troubling Moshe and the artisans about all the giving, was that the people were so caught up in the zeal of giving to G- d, it had lost any connection to actually building the Mishkan; it had become about them, and their giving, rather than about G-d, and how to bring Hashem into the world.

(Which was why the fact that there was already enough to build the Mishkan was almost irrelevant. Kind of like the large Shuls one unfortunately sometimes encounters which have more plaques than people.)

So Moshe stops the giving, and reminds people not to forget the importance of becoming.

Which brings us back to this week’s portion. While that is a valuable lesson, it is also important, in the process of connecting (or re-connecting) to the ideals and goals of the project, not to forget the power and the importance of all of the details.

And this is a crucial part of life, which stands at the root of all our relationships and all of our dreams. Take, for example, the excitement of love, and that special time when you find that very special someone, and ‘love is in the air’. It almost seems that you can do anything, and that it doesn’t matter where you are or what you do, just as long as you are together.

But healthy marriages don’t last on walks in the park and candle-lit dinners. Because the garbage must be taken out every morning, the laundry has to get done, and the kids have to be taken to school with their lunches made each morning.

And before people get married, they often make time to talk about their shared dreams and goals, and what sort of a home they hope to build together. But they rarely get to think about who picks up the dirty socks, and what happens when the laundry basket is full at the end of a long day.

Most couples work these details out and come up with their own system for who does what when, and they often view this as a necessary part of a relationship, which is hopefully growing. And this is true in all relationships, whether between spouses, parents and their children, or even roommates. Whenever such relationships last, it is because the parties involved are willing to share the burden of all the chores and details that must be done to allow for the accomplishment of all the wonderful goals that were so ever present in the beginning.

The tragedy, however, is how much this approach loses along the way; because while this is all very true, it is also very sadly lacking.

Perhaps the point of this week’s parsha is that if the details are just “the burden of all the chores and details which must be done” as described above, then we are missing the most beautiful part of the process. The real challenge is to embrace the detail as part of a larger picture.

You can clean up the kitchen because someone has to do it, and you can even clean up your kitchen because you have been away for a while, and your wife works so hard, and how could you not at least clean up the kitchen? And if this is how you clean up the kitchen, then maybe you find yourself wistfully imagining how much more fun it would be to be walking your wife into a beautiful restaurant for a candle-lit dinner.

But you can also clean up the kitchen because you know it will bring a smile to your wife’s face, and the thought of her smiling when she walks out into the kitchen in the morning makes every dish you clean, into another rose in the vase. You can so infuse every detail of cleaning the kitchen, with the ideal of what you want your relationship to be about, that you actually transform your kitchen cleaning into a candle- lit dinner. (Though no one should assume this dispenses the need and the value of the occasional candle-lit dinner; it simply allows for candle-lit dinners on one level or another every day.)

And this is a part of what is going on here in this week’s portion of Pekudei. Because when Moshe blesses the people for the execution of all the details, what he is really valuing is the way in which all the details were done. Because if every shirt that gets folded is actually an act of love, then even if your wife is asleep while you are doing laundry, she is there with you all the time.

And when the Jewish people succeed in seeing G-d in all the details, then they have mastered the art of bringing G-d into the world, which is the entire point.

And this is what this portion is all about, here at the end of the book of Exodus. This book has three basic stages which are its theme.

First, the family of Israel, a family of brothers who sold their brother into slavery, becomes a nation made sensitive to human suffering by two hundred years of slavery. The beginning of the book of Shemot is all about the making of a great nation.

But that leaves the question: what is this great nation meant to do? They are given freedom, but what is that freedom for? So, the second part of the book is the recipe for how, with our newly acquired freedom, we can make a difference in the world: the middle of the book of Shemot is about the giving of the Torah. We acquire the mitzvoth, which are a blueprint for making the world a better place.

This leads us to the third piece: the goal of this recipe is not for us to find G-d beyond this world; the goal is to bring G-d into the world. The Jewish people have always been about making the world a better place by making room for G-d. And that is what building the Mishkan was all about. And if this week we conclude this process of creating space for G-d in our lives, then discovering the balance and the harmony between the power of the ideal, and the beauty of the detail is the crucial piece for making it all work.

And just as inculcating this idea into our lives on a personal level allows each of us to become a Mikdash Me’at, a living sanctuary for Hashem in this world, this is true also on a national level.

Rav Avraham Yitzchak HaKohen Kook, in his article Zaronim, points out seventy years ago, that this idea is at the root of the transformation we are undergoing as a people coming home, and his observations are every bit as relevant today as they were when he wrote them.

Rav Kook was answering a challenging question: if indeed the return of the Jewish people to their homeland was the beginning of the fulfillment of the two-thousand-year-old dream of redemption as foretold by the prophets, why was this dream coming about through the likes of Theodore Herzl, David Ben Gurion, and Golda Meir, who while certainly visionaries and incredible individuals, were certainly not the rabbis of their day?

Indeed, some of the early Zionist leaders described themselves (whether we agree with their assessment or not) as being anti-religious! So why was G-d choosing them to be instruments of the fulfillment of His prophecies, if indeed this was the fulfillment of those dreams?

Rav Kook’s response is that there are two components to Judaism, which he calls the Clalim, or general principles, and the Pratim, or details of those principles.

If the Clal (general idea) is to “Remember the Sabbath day” which means to take the time to be in the moment and learn to let go of the process of trying to get there, the Prat (detail) is not stirring the soup on the fire, as it is a form of cooking. The ideal, that when I choose not to cook on Shabbat, I am letting go of my role as a partner in creating the world and getting back in touch with G-d who put me here as His junior partner in the first place, is the Clal. Trying to determine what actually constitutes cooking, and whether the item is fully or partially cooked, and how many degrees Fahrenheit will actually cause the action I am involved with to be an act of cooking, is the Prat (the detail).

The Clalim are all the beautiful ideals, dreams, and goals of Judaism: to love your neighbor as yourself, to pursue justice, and to honor one’s parents. And the Pratim are all the details, such as whether one is obligated to stand up when a parent walks in the room, and how much effort we actually have to make to return the scarf someone left on the bus.

For two thousand years, says Rav Kook, we took for granted that people knew and would not forget the Clalim. What the Rabbis were afraid of was that people would forget the Pratim. There was a need to ensure the survival of the complex system of details that make up the beauty that is Judaism. Because make no mistake about it, as beautiful as all the goals and ideal of Judaism are, unless they are infused into our lives every day, in every moment and in everything that we do, they will remain simply as ideals and will have very little impact on how the world behaves, much less on how the world could be. And that is not what Judaism is about. Judaism believes that while the idea of Tzedakah (giving charity because it is the right thing to do) is powerful, unless we are confronted with it every time we draw a paycheck and every time we harvest our field, it will remain forever simply a nice idea.

However, in the process of ensuring that the details would not be forgotten, suggests Rav Kook, we lost touch with the Clalim. We got so wrapped up in the details, we lost sight of the goals and the dreams, the beauty and the inspiration. And so the Jewish people finally rebelled, and in a desire to get back to the beauty of the ideals, they let go of the power of the details. Which is why the early builders of the State of Israel for the most part wanted nothing to do with the details of Judaism and halachah (Jewish law). Yet they embraced all the ideals of Judaism; they just gave them a new name: socialism, or communism. How sad, that in saving the baby, they not only got rid of all the bathwater, they threw out the bath as well.

We are living in a time when there is a genuine thirst for discovering the beauty and the power of the Pratim, the details that fuel the Clalim, the goals and dreams of Judaism.

And it is interesting that there are two very distinct groups in Judaism today that are struggling to re- discover the beauty and inspiration of Judaism in their lives.

There are those who have had very little to do with the Pratim and have little knowledge of all of the details of a Jewish way of life, yet they are infused with the Clalim and have embraced the ideals of Judaism. They are learning in seminars and life training sessions around the world, to be in touch with the moment, that loving is all about giving, and that we are all really one. But they are thirsty to discover how holding a kiddush cup on Friday night can be a living embodiment of all of those ideals, and have little knowledge of how one makes kiddush, what one says, and what the words mean.

And then there are those who have been making kiddush all their lives, who know the words, and what they mean, by heart, and who are often well versed on the debate as to whether one stands or sits, or a little of both, during the Kiddush, as well as whether one can use grape juice or wine, how big the cup should be, and what the correct way to hold that cup is. They are immersed in the details, the Pratim, but those details have lost their shine; and while the details are crucial, the inspiration and the beauty, the power and the joy has been lost. They are thirsty, sometimes without even realizing it, for the Clalim, the inspiration of meaning and joy, hidden in every detail of every ritual.

This then, is the challenge of this week’s portion: can we create again the Jewish people as it was meant to be, which sees the beauty and the value in both of these crucial components of Judaism.

And there is one more important piece to this puzzle. Because when we speak of the beauty of the detail, and the value of seeing the whole in each of the details and connecting with G-d through every last detail, this is true not only for the process of our building of the Mishkan; it is true for our identity as a people as well.

It is clear from a contextual perspective that it was the artisans and the wise men who actually physically built the Mishkan. But the Ohr HaChaim (Rav Chaim Ibn Atar) points out that in giving to the Mishkan, the Jewish people became partners in the building of the Mishkan. And most importantly, they were all blessed, and all viewed as equally crucial and important in the fulfillment of this mission.

The building of the Mishkan was accomplished every bit as much by the fellow who donated his gold tooth for the Mishkan, as by the artisan who actually fashioned the Menorah wherein that gold tooth found its final home.

And more important than seeing the value of every detail of the Mishkan was the challenge of seeing the beauty and the value of every ‘detail’, every last individual Jew, as part of the entire Nation of Israel.

Whoever we are, and whatever silly labels we seem to affix each other with, we are all, in the end, one Mishkan. There was no reform, conservative, orthodox, ultra-Orthodox, or even Conservadox section in the Temple; we all just hung out in the courtyard together. And this too, is the message of this week’s portion.

Moshe chooses to bless all of the people together, because a Mishkan is only a Mishkan if we are all one in viewing and building that Mishkan.

This is why, perhaps, Moshe could no longer enter the Tent of Meeting at the end of the portion, because the Mishkan was never meant to be about one man; it was about all of us. In fact, the glory of Hashem that descends on this world is the common soul of the entire people when we are capable of seeing Hashem in every person, regardless of their views and beliefs.

Hence only the Kohen, the High priest, Aaron, could enter the Sanctuary’s Holy of Holies: because he represented peace- shalom, which comes from the root Shalem, whole. Aaron was the living embodiment, as was the Jewish institution of priesthood, of an entire people, completely whole with each other. Indeed, G-d communicates to Aaron through the letters of the names of the tribes on the breastplate. Because it is only through recognizing the value of all of the tribes of Israel that we succeed in bringing G-d into this world.

And incidentally, this is why verse 32 appears in its strange format: “And all the work of the Mishkan (Tabernacle)- the Tent of Meeting, was completed, and the children of Israel did all that Hashem had commanded them, so they did.”

The Mishkan was not completed because the work was done; it was completed because the Jewish people were able to do it together, and because they succeeded in keeping the passion of the dream, while embracing the power of each and every detail necessary to complete their work.

We have a lot of building to do these days. Most people think we need to build fences and bomb shelters; but in truth we need to build bridges; the kind of bridges that let us meet each other up close. Maybe this will be the year where we finally get it. But it can only start when each of us, building our own personal sanctuaries, taps into the beauty of our dreams, while embracing the value of every one of us; every last detail.

Shabbat Shalom.

The Yishai Fleisher Israel Podcast: Huckabee vs. Witkoff

SEASON 2025 EPISODE 12: Yishai and Malkah Fleisher discuss Yishai's visit to the Gaza periphery communities and lessons learned there. Then, Jake Bennett joins Yishai to compare the very different approaches of soon-to-be Ambassador Huckabee to Special Envoy Steve Witkoff. Plus, Ben Bresky on the life and Hebron burial of early Zionist rabbi Yehuda Bibas.

Accounting and the Torah

by Rabbi Pinchas Winston

It is interesting that accounting should be a part of Torah. Torah is the word of God, our instructions for living. It is so holy that if a Torah falls to the ground, God forbid, the congregation has to fast. It has seventy “faces” and four levels of Pardes built into it. What does accounting have to do with any of this?

Obviously, a person has to have good accounting practices just to make it through life. We need them just to be able to answer to our governments who demand to know what we’re making, what we’re spending, so they can know how much tax money they can take from us. Businesses live and die based upon their accounting practices.

There is a religious angle as well. Everything we have is a blessing from God, and we show our appreciation by caring about all of it. This means keeping track of what we have, so we can take care of and maintain it. How many times have we needed something, forgotten we already had it, and mistakenly bought a new one with money we could have used for something else we actually did need? How many times have we neglected something (or someone) only to regret it later when we needed it (or them)?

The Torah is the word of God, every last letter and punctuation. He dictated all of it to Moshe Rabbeinu. If accounting is important to the Torah, then it is important to God. As Rashi explains at the beginning of Sefer Bamidbar, God counts the Jewish people like a shepherd counts his sheep. People value money so much that they’re constantly counting it or checking their bank account.

This is why we’re also the only people to have been counted so precisely by another nation, who even had our numbers indelibly tattooed on our skin. The Nazi’s obviously did it out of cruelty and for their own records. But it was God Who had them do it unbeknownst to them, for His own purposes, as an act of love, tough love.

That’s a tough sell. It’s hard to convince people that an enemy’s hateful counting of prisoners is really just God’s counting of them out of love. They would rather God not “love” them at all, or at least not “so much.”

How can something so positive be manifested so negatively? The answer is, of course, kabbalistic. But the thing about Kabbalah is that it is becoming “easier” to understand as time goes on because of something as everyday basic as technology. Seeing how it works often provides insight into how the spiritual world works.

For example, take the Internet. There are many people who wish you would…to another universe altogether. Why would people want to get rid of something so useful as the Internet? The answer is obvious: abuse, a level of which has cost decent people so much good and, on some occasions, even their lives. Good technology in bad hands results in terrible evil.

This has been true ever since man ate from the Aitz HaDa’as Tov v’Ra, the Tree of Knowledge of Good and Evil. Because Adam ate without God’s permission, he abused Creation and actualized evil for the first time in history. He accessed knowledge meant for good and ended up using it for bad, even though he had intended for the opposite.

It works similarly in relationships. Sometimes people love the wrong people, people not worthy of their love. Love is not blind, but it can be overly forgiving and choose to overlook warning signs of relationship failure. How many people have maintained abusive relationships for years out of a distorted sense of love? Good things in the wrong hands become wrong things.

Like the love of God for the Jewish people. God’s love is a spiritual energy that He shares with us to allow us to flourish as a nation. When we remain worthy of that love, it flows to us, and we are capable of great things, as individuals and as a nation. We feed off it whether we realize it or not.

If we don’t remain worthy of that love “energy,” it doesn’t necessarily stop flowing into Creation. Rather, it still comes down into the world, but like good technology in the hands of evil people, the energy is hijacked by the Klipos, the spiritual root of all evil in Creation. They are the antithesis of the Jewish People who threaten their existence, and when it is manifested in our enemies, human or otherwise, they use that same positive energy for an evil purpose. Rather than using that “love” for the benefit of Klal Yisroel, they use it to try to destroy us instead.

Thus, rather than be ingathered to Eretz Yisroel as promised, we were ingathered to concentration camps instead. Rather than choose unification by ignoring our differences, it was imposed upon us, and the differences were forcibly removed. And rather than be counted so that no Jew was left out or left behind, we were counted for the opposite reason.

Because both good and evil use the same energy to accomplish their goals. Who gets that energy and succeeds depends upon who accesses it first and, more importantly, when it “counts” the most. The accounting of the Mishkan makes that point because, as the Midrash points out, the gold and silver used for the golden calf instead became gold and silver used to make a House of God.

Pesach is fast coming, so order your new Haggadah Shel Pesach while there is still time to receive it before the Seder, b”H.

Web sites: www.thirytsix.org, www.shaarnunproductions.org, and now @ShaarnunProductionsInc (YouTube).

Good Shabbos,
​Pinchas Winston
​Thirtysix.org / Shaarnun Productions

The war over the soul of our nation

BS”D
Parashat Pekudai 5785
by HaRav Nachman Kahana

Medinat Yisrael will soon be 77 years young, and religious leaders are still debating the nature of our return to the holy land.

There are great rabbis who are confident, implicit and unwavering in their belief that the Medina is the platform on which the Mashiach will appear. Just count the miraculous victories of our army, and no less the miraculous economic boom that took survivors of the holocaust from the murder camps with only the shirt on their back and their children are CEOs of international companies residing on the 35th floor of a Tel Aviv skyscraper. The extraordinary accomplishments in all fields of endeavor and a very high place in the citizens’ satisfaction ladder within the nations.

At the same time there are equally great rabbis who are uncertain and ambivalent as to our link in the golden chain of Jewish history. And yet others who regard the advent of the Medina by mostly non-observant secular Jews (who cherished being Jewish and went to drain the malarial swamps of the Galil) as being illegitimate, and therefore beyond the possibility of rising above their unholy beginnings. Hence it is better to remain in galut until the time when HaShem will send us limousines to come home. Why do I mention limousines?

Once when visiting the States, I was on a subway train when two young Satmar Chassidic men sat next to me. We began talking and at one point I asked them when they would come to Eretz Yisrael. One answered, “when Hashem sends us limousines”. Our conversation came to an abrupt halt when I said that Chazal teaches that “techiyat hamaytim” (resurrection of the dead) will occur only in Eretz Yisrael, and the righteous in chutz la’aretz will have to make their way through tunnels to get to the land. So what kind of Chassidim are you when your rabbi has to undergo a harsh experience while you will be sitting in a stretch limo! They moved to another seat.

As stated above, there are Torah giants who interpret the events of the past 100 years as the beginning of the Messianic era, and those who do not relate any spiritual significance to the establishment of a Jewish Medina in Eretz Yisrael – and even those who condemn its establishment.

Who is right and who is wrong? At this juncture in our history, nothing less than a clear voice from heaven declaring “I am the Lord your God” will move anyone in each of the three camps to concede to the other’s point of view.

However, there is a fourth approach to the issue; the one I believe unites all the conflicting views.

We here are all in the same “boat”. Because while Eretz Yisrael is inherently kadosh (holy), the political Medinat Yisrael is a neutral entity where Hashem is giving us one more chance to establish a “Kohanic kingdom and holy nation” (Shemot 19,6).

The Medina has within it the greatest potential for sanctity. The land and the very air we breathe abound with kedusha. The Temple Mount, Yerushalayim, Me’arat Ha’Machpela down to the last fistful of soil at the end of the extremities of our borders are all imbued with kedusha. The people from over 100 different lands bring with them a heterogeneity reminiscent of the diversity of the twelve tribes – necessary to bring forth the multifaceted demands of a Torah nation.

In the past, HaShem gave the opportunity to King Chizkiyahu to be the Mashiach, but he faltered. Rabbi Akiva and the majority of rabbis in his day knew that HaShem had given Bar Kochba the opportunity to be the Mashiach, but Bar Kochba also faltered.

In our time, HaShem is giving us another opportunity to bring the final redemption. And as a mother who receives her newborn baby in her arms, the future of the Medina depends on how we relate to it; how we tend and care for it; how we educate our young and with how much zeal we defend it and are willing to die for it.

It is the inescapable duty of every Jew to endeavor to actualize the potential of the Medina to be a God-fearing Torah society in the spirit and words of the prophets. If we fail, then we and Jews the world over will pay dearly. There will not be another exile, but our lives will be filled with challenges.

On the one hand, there are here a small but vocal “eiruv rav” (mixed assembly of people), who has accompanied our people since the time of the Exodus and who wish to destroy any semblance of kedusha in the land. On the other hand, there are the most loyal sons and daughters this nation has ever seen. They learn and live Torah and embrace every centimeter of every hill and valley. They are the kippot srugot (knitted kipot) young men and long-skirted young women who are to be found in every positive aspect of society. They study Torah, settle and build the land, struggle and even die in the effort to convince HaShem that we are ready to establish the Third Jewish Commonwealth in Eretz Yisrael.

In between these two camps is the majority of traditional-minded Israelis together with the Chareidi parties, Chassidic groups, “Lithuanian” yeshivot, and whoever else sees themselves as being Chareidi who flounder without direction.

The Chareidim contribute somewhat to our life here, but they themselves harbor very little hope that the Medina can turn into an Am Kadosh. They can be compared to a father teaching his little child to walk, but the infant staggers and falls once or twice; and the father throws up his hands in hopelessness while muttering to himself that this child will never walk.

In this war over the soul of our nation, those who remain in chutz la’aretz will have almost zero impact on the outcome of HaShem’s great test. Nevertheless, they will be held accountable in the real world for not even taking part in bringing about the final geula for us and for the world.

I hope and pray that I see the day when a “kippa sruga” will sit together with a “shtreimel” wearer in a yeshiva, high atop a hillside overlooking Chevron or Shechem, arguing over the application of a Talmudic principle to the Israeli space station hovering over the planet, or religious scientists designing software applications for the Bet HaMikdash, or three Israeli generals reciting birkat ha’mazon after a working lunch where it was agreed upon to liberate the eastern side of the Jordan river.

It CAN and Will happen, but the timing depends on how much we love HaShem, the Torah, Eretz Yisrael and how much we love each other.

We have no option but to succeed in revealing the hidden sanctity in the inanimate stones of HaShem’s holy land and in the deep recesses of our Jewish souls.

In summary: The quantity and quality of HaShem’s assistance in advancing our uphill climb to the summit of the Jewish spiritual Mount Everest will be determined by the quantity and quality of Am Yisrael’s determination to create here a “Kohanic kingdom and holy nation”.

Shabbat Shalom,
Nachman Kahana
Copyright © 5785/2025 Nachman Kahana

Rabbi Ari Kahn on Parashat Pekudei: Building Trust (video)

Rav Doniel Glatstein on Parshas Pekudei: Why Didn't Moshe Give A Cheshbon What The Gold Was Used For? (video)

Rav Kook's Ein Ayah: Praying with the Heart, Not with the Mind

(condensed from Ein Ayah, Berachot 9:23)

Gemara: Is it so that praying for a long time is good? Doesn’t Rabbi Yochanan say that whoever prays for a long time and looks into it will ultimately come to heartache? …and doesn’t Rabbi Yitzchak say that three things bring up one’s sins: a leaning wall, looking into one’s prayer, and handing over to Hashem complaints against a person (relying on Hashem to punish him)? It depends if one just has a long prayer, which is good, or whether he also looks into it (Rashi – he reasons that since he prayed with strong concentration, Hashem will certainly do as he requested).

Ein Ayah: The ability of prayer to improve one’s material and spiritual wellbeing, as Hashem incorporated into nature, depends on one understanding clearly what prayer is.

A person should know that all his strengths and the circumstances that surround him are arranged with Divine wisdom. When a person feels upset due to personal or communal circumstances and his pure heart turns to Hashem in prayer, this helps his moral standing. He need not be concerned with the philosophical question of whether people’s prayers can cause a change in the Divine plan. In truth, that which can bring a person to completeness (i.e., prayer) is part of the all-encompassing Divine plan. Since a person’s soul flourishes when he feels Hashem’s closeness upon turning to Him, nature is set up so that such beseeching before Him will be fruitful.

A person should concentrate in his prayer just on the feeling of connecting emotionally to Hashem through the process. It should not include intellectual calculations of gain and loss or determining philosophical truths based on it. The power of prayer was created for the feelings of the soul, not the limited human intellect.

If one delves deeply into the expected results of his prayer, he will not receive the results he seeks but will experience great disappointment. Rather he should treasure the ability to turn to Him with a full and thirsting soul. Hashem did not create man just for his intellect, but also so that his heart would be most moved when praying to Hashem in a time of need.

It is crucial to save oneself from over-intellectualization of the experience of prayer, which stems from one’s desire to feel that he can capture Hashem’s providence within his intellect. However, Hashem is beyond that and wants to engage man by giving him life in the realm of the body and the emotions, as well. That is why one who spends a long time on his prayer, but does so in a manner of trying to analyze what will come of it, will experience heartache. If someone treats the power of prayer as a power of nature [which must succeed], he will not only lose the full experience but will come to false beliefs.

It is important for man to have faith in Hashem to keep his physical and spiritual state stable so that he not be shocked and overpowered by the physical world. He thereby learns that not everything that man thinks is good is indeed so, for everything in the world is guided by Hashem. He will also not be despondent when times are hard and foreboding, for nothing can prevent Hashem from bringing salvation. Faith is not intended to make a person lazy and inattentive to the efforts needed for the success of the individual or the group. Faith is certainly not intended to give a person the confidence to put himself in a position of danger. That is why one must not walk next to a leaning wall.

Divine judgment is a pillar of the world, but that is primarily to keep a man’s evil inclination in check. It is not something that a person should misuse for personal gain at the expense of another person. If he does so, it will not help but will pollute his soul and will cause his sins to be remembered.

The Completion of the Mishkan and of Creation

by HaRav Mordechai Greenberg
Nasi HaYeshiva, Kerem B'Yavneh

Chazal comment in Masechet Shabbat (87b):

"It was in the first month of the second year, on the first of the month, that the Mishkan was erected." (Shemot 40:17) It is taught, that day took ten crowns: first for Creation, first for the princes, first for priesthood, first for [the Mishkan] service, first for the descent of the fire...

All the "firsts" that are mentioned in the Gemara are connected to the beginning of the service of the Mishkan, except for "first for Creation," which seems to stand out from the rest of the list. What is the connection between the "first for Creation" to the dedication of the Mishkan?

In Megillah 10a it says that on the day that the Mishkan was erected, there was happiness before Hashem like the day that heaven and earth were created. Again, we need to ask, what is the connection between the dedication of the Mishkan and the creation of heaven and earth?

Furthermore, Chazal teach (Shabbat 119b) that whoever says "Vayechulu..." becomes a partner with G-d in Creation. How is it possible to become a partner in something that was completed so long ago?

"Hashem desired to have a dwelling in the lower regions [earth]." (Tanchuma Bechukotai) A desire is an ambition that one looks forward to its fulfillment, so what prevents Hashem from dwelling his Shechina in the lower regions if He so much desires it?

The answer to all of these questions lies in the pasuk that is written at the conclusion of Creation: "Thus the heaven and earth were completed ... which G-d created to do." (Bereishit 2:1-3) The creation was, indeed, finished but the doing - the perfecting, all the finishing touches - depend on us in the lower world. When Tornus Rufus showed wheat and pastry to R. Akiva and asked him whose deeds are greater - Hashem's or men's, R. Akiva answered that although Hashem created the world, it is up to us to perfect it. This is how R. Akiva explained circumcision to him. Hashem creates and we do – we perfect and add the finishing touches. (Tanchuma, Tazria 5) Hashem, indeed, desires a dwelling in the lower regions, but He expects us to build it for him.

This is the reason for the commandment: "They shall make Me a Sanctuary, and I will dwell amongst them." (Shemot 25:8) When Bnei Yisrael built the Mishkan, the purpose of the creation of heaven and earth was fulfilled. This is what the Ramban writes at the conclusion of Shemot, which ends with the Divine Presence in the Mishkan: "The book of redemption is completed in which Hashem, G-d of Israel, appeared to Bnei Yisrael - the nation that is closest to him."

This Mishkan was made by Betzalel, who knew how to join the letters with which the heaven and earth were created. The Midrash points to the parallel between what it says about Betzalel: "I filled him with wisdom, insight, and knowledge" (Shemot 31:3), and what it says about Creation: "Hashem founded the world with wisdom, established the heaven with insight, with his knowledge the depths were split." (Mishlei 3:19) In this way man becomes a partner in Creation, because the creation of heaven and earth is worthless without Presence of the Shechina through Am Yisrael.

This was the great joy of that first day. Indeed, "The first of the creation," belongs with the making of the Mishkan. Even though the making of heaven and earth were already completed, they still had not achieved their purpose until the Mishkan was constructed, thus making Am Yisrael partners in Creation.

There is still something deeper to all this. "Hashem desired" – because of his love for Am Yisrael! As feelings are reciprocal, Hashem also expects us to show our love to Him: "As the deer longs for brooks of water, so my soul longs for You, O G-d." (Tehillim 42:2) "In Your behalf, my heart has said, 'Seek My Presence.' Your Presence, Hashem do I seek." (Tehillim 27:8)

How is it possible to long for G-d who is separate, hidden and distant? It is because in the beginning there was love. "He blew into his nostrils the soul of life." (Bereishit 2:7) Chazal write (see Ramban there): "He who blows, blows of himself." They also write: "This is comparable to a princess who marries a townsman. Whatever he gives her does not satisfy her because she is a princess. Thus, the soul also is also from the upper regions, and this is what is says, "The soul cannot be satisfied." (Kohellet Rabbah 6) A person's soul is a part of the Divine G-d from above.

The world was also closely connected to G-d: "They heard the sound of Hashem G-d manifesting in the garden" (Bereishit 3:8), but after the sin the Shechina departed. Yet, in essence the Shechina still is associated with the world. Therefore, both a person and the world can return to the source and reconnect, and the pasuk: "I will place My Sanctuary in your midst ... I will walk amongst you" (Vayikra 26:11-12) will be fulfilled again.

When the longing of the Creation grows to the point that they build a Mishkan, then Hashem's desire will be fulfilled. "Thus the heaven and earth were completed" – "Moshe completed the work" – then, "The glory of Hashem filled the Mishkan."

We say in Adon Olam: "Master of the universe, who reigned before any form was created; at the time when His will brought all into being – then as 'King' was his name proclaimed. When all will end, He, alone, will rule Awesome."

We have here three stages:

1. Master of the universe, who reigned before any form was created.

2. When His will was fulfilled, then He was proclaimed as 'King' by the creation.

3. After everything ends - he will, one again, reign alone.

This process is puzzling. If, at the end, we return to the beginning - what need was there to go through it all in the first place? If the purpose is for Hashem to reign alone after everything, then what need was there for the Creation?

Rav Kook zt"l explains that "V'acharei kichlot hakol" does not mean "When all will end" - that everything will cease. Rather, it means that the souls of all the creation will long greatly for G-d, as it says, "Kalta nafshi – My soul longed for the courtyards of G-d." (Tehillim 84:3) "My flesh and heart long ... for the Eternal G-d." (73:26) This, indeed, is the perfection of heaven and earth. At the beginning Hashem reigned alone, and at the end the souls of all of the creation will long to become closer to G-d. This is the highest level and the purpose of creation, when the lower world will accept the yoke of His Reign willingly. Therefore, through the construction of the Mishkan, the Shechina returned through our actions and our desire for Hashem's nearness, thereby fulfilling the purpose of creation.