A Powerful conversation between Mordechai and Esther

One of the most striking conversations in the Megillah takes place between Mordechai and Esther in Perek Daled. Esther is informed that Mordechai has sat himself in the King's courtyard, and is sitting there mourning over the decree placed on the Jews. Concerned, Esther sends out clothes, which he would not accept. She then sends messengers to find out why, and learns about the decree on the Jews and is requested by Mordechai to go to the King and beg for mercy. Esther, understandably replies that she will be killed if she goes to the king unsummoned, and she has not been summoned for the past month.
Clearly, she does not want to fulfill this task. She is frightened for her life, and is scared that simple woman like herself must take the responsibility of the entire Jewish nation on her shoulders. She does not think the King will put out his golden scepter when he sees her.
Mordechai does not mince words when he responds. He does not use a soft, encouraging approach at all. (In today's society we would probably accuse him of being too harsh and not validating her feelings.) He says, "Do not imagine that you will be able to escape just because you are the Queen, if you remain silent and do not help the Jews, our salvation will come from another area, and you and your family will be destroyed. For it may be that it was for this very moment that you became Queen."
Its seems like Mordechai is saying, "Esther wake up, this is not the time for passivity and self doubting, you are the Queen, and you have no choice but to take the responsibility of your people. This is a time where you must take action, in your position, you don't have a right to say "I can't do it." (Slightly reminiscent of Shmuel's words to her ancestor Shaul, "Ha'lo rosh Shivtei Yisrael a'tah," "You are not just anyone, you are the King of Israel!") Leaders must have a low image of self efficacy.
It was this, and not encouragement and understanding that Esther needed to hear. She then took this mussar extremely well, and did not even waste a moment before completely changing her mindset. She set up a 3 day fast and began to prepare to go to the King, putting her personal fears on the back burner for the sake of Bnei Yisrael. "I will go to the King even if it is illegal, and if I die doing so, so I will die." The strength of character shown here by Esther is to great to be adequately put into words. She was literally going to walk to what she believed was her death, all because she was in the position of leadership, and a leader must sacrifice for the Klall.
In addition to the example Esther sets for us on receiving words of rebuke, there is an additional lesson in these pesukim pointed out by the Pachad Yitzchak, (Rav Hutner). Mordechai seems to be accusing Esther of only caring about saving herself and thinking she could escape even if the rest of Bnei Yisrael are killed. This is an extremely lowly accusation, as Esther did not say that she didn't care about Bnei Yisrael, she simply was scared to go to the King. How could Mordechai accuse Esther Hamalka such selfish thoughts, clearly there must be something deeper being said here.
In Judaism, we have the concept that a person who has a need, and davens for a friend who has the same need, he will be answered first. On a superficial level, this seems like some sort of magic formula that one can use to "trick" Hashem into giving them what they want. However, it is the exact opposite, as we will see upon examining why this works.
Tefilah from a broken heart, by definition is more powerful than regular tefilah. There is an extra element of depth to a person's tefilos when they are in desperate need of something. A person in need has an "ownership" of this very powerful tool of broken hearted tefilah. When such a person davens for a friend with this need instead of himself, he his donating that power to somebody else's cause. Only prayer for another done with a sincere desire to help one's friend and not oneself will work in helping the person who is praying on behalf of his friend. This is not an easy thing to do.
Mordechai was saying to Esther, "Do not think that you will be able to escape the decree because you are in the king's palace." He was informing her that she must realize that she is not just davening for Bnei Yisrael, but for herself, she too is included in this decree. He knew that despite this fact, her tefilos would be for Bnei Yisrael and not herself. He told Esther that she would not escape because he did not want to loose out on the ma'ailah of having a person with a need, and a broken heart pray altruisticly for someone else with the same need. Mordechai had no doubts that Esther's tefilos would be altruistic, so he told her that she too was in need of salvation to capitalize on the extra power of tefilah that a person who selflessly focus's on other people's needs brings before Hashem.

Ka'asher Tzi'vah Hashem

In this weeks parsha, Parshas Pekudei, we come across the phrase "Ka'asher tzi'vah Hashem es Moshe," over and over again throughout the description of the construction of the Mishkan. Why is this necessary? Could the Torah not have said this at the end of the entire account with the intention that it refer to each specific aspect of the Mishkan?

As quoted by Rav Yehudah Nachshoni, the Bais Halevi explains the reason for this repetition. The phrase serves as a warning for Bnei Yisrael, that they should not think that because they were able to make new forms for the construction of the Mishkan, they could now make analagous ones of their own. It cannot be emphasized enough that symbols and figures that are unauthorized by Hashem are completely assur.

Rav Nachshoni also quotes the Ikarim who gives a similar idea in his explanation of why the luchos are called luchos ha'aidus, tablets of testimony. The same way that the testimony of witnesses may not be distorted to mean something other than what was said, we cannot distort the commandments of Hashem from their true and basic meaning. Knowing the philosophical or Kabbalistic background to a mitzva does not give us license to change its practical performance even in the slightest way. The mitzvah must be "Ka'asher tziva Hashem," "how Hashem commanded it to be, without making any false analogies.

(Interestingly in this weeks parsha the mishkan is called mishkan ha'aidus) What makes a mitzva legitimate is that Hashem commanded it. What makes a form of worship legitimate is also, that Hashem commanded it.

We no longer have a desire to create figures and symbols of worship. However, the warning of "ka'asher tzivah Hashem," is still relevant to our lives. We must be careful never to stray from how Hashem intended his mitzvos to be performed. Understanding the reasons behind a mitzva does not empower us to make changes or distortions. We cannot truly understand what Hashem's intentions are, so therefore we cannot say I will change this mitzva and still accomplish what Hashem intended. We must simply do "ka'asher tzivah Hashem."

Why Winter?

In Judaism, we have the concept that everything in the physical world is a mashal for something in the spiritual world. Nothing in nature is arbitrary, Hashem made everything in a specific way in order to teach us a lesson. Rav Nevensol explores this idea at length at the end of Parshas Shelach in explaining the significance of the techeles's connection to the sea and sky.

A question that I had was; What is the significance of the turning of the seasons? Why can't the weather just be pleasent all year round, why do we have to have these cold, bitter months? There is an approach to the turn of the seasons originally introduced by the Seforno in Parshas Noach, and later expanded on by the Malbim. The Seforno (unlike Rashi) says that originally, before the mabul, the world was constantly in the season of Spring. After the mabul, "Od kol yi'mei ha'aretz zera ve'katzir ve'kor ve'chom va'kayitz ve'choref ve'yom va'layla lo yishbo'su" From now on the different seasons will not stop going in their cycle. (Rashi interprets this passuk to be saying that the seasons will never stop cycling again, as they did during the mabul, the Seforno maintains that this was the first time there was going to be such a cycle.) The Malbim takes the Seforno's approach that having 4 seasons instead of one is not the ideal plan. He explains that Hashem had to run things this way because when it was spring all year round the people did not function at their best and became corrupt, (as we see by the Mabul.)
I think that there is an idea in Ali Shur that runs parallel to the Malbim's approach that will help us be more positivly impacted by winter and have a deeper understanding of its meaning.

In the begining of Chailek Aleph, Rav Volbe describes to us the Yimei Ha'ahava and Yimei Ha'sinah, (days of love and days of hate) that every individual cycles through. (I will attempt to summarize this chapter, but I highly recommend reading it from Rav Volbe's words.)

Basically, everyone encounters periods in their Avodas Hashem when they feel empty, without any of the desire and enthusiasim they normally have for Torah and Mitzvos. One may want to just sit back and drop everything, certainly the optional things, and even chiyuvim (obligations) are hard to maintain. These are called Yimei Ha'sinah, and they are natural part of growth, everyone gets them. The dependent factor is how long they last, it can be hours, days or weeks. The point is however, that during these time periods one should hold on as hard as possible to whatever he can and try hard not to drop everything. Also, it is important not to be entirely misya'aish, go into complete dispair, when the Yimei Ha'sinah come. Don't be so hard on yourself, take it easy and the Yimei Ha'ahava, of energy and excitement will come back again.

Why do things have to be this way? Why is it impossible to constantly be going in the same direction, why do people get these intense, hard time periods of Yimei Ha'sinah?

The answer to this question can be found in a Malbim in Shir Ha'Shirim on the passuk "Ki hinei ha'stav avar ha'geshem chal'af ha'lach lo." "For the winter has passed, the rain is over." Most Mefarshim explain that this passuk is talking about how the years of slavery for Bnei Yisrael are over, and they can now go into Eretz Yisrael (as the next pessukim talk about how Bnei Yisrael can arise and go forth!). The Malbim explains that this passuk is a mashal for the spiritual cycle that everyone goes through many times in their lifetime. There are periods of dormancy for every person where all their abilities and true desires are hidden, like in the winter when the ground's ability to grow and produce is covered up and supressed. We need these periods, as everything needs time to rest and rejuvinate, both your neshama and vegitation. Then come the times in life where one can "arise and go forth" and truely express their spiritual potential, like in the Spring when eveything is blooming and energetic. Hashem says to Bnei Yisrael, "The winter is over, the rains have gone - Your Period of Dormancy is over!! Arise and go forth, its Spring, you can now express your true selves.
This sounds a great deal like the Yimei Ha'ahava and Yimei Ha'sinah. It seems like Spring is a mashal for times focusing on spiritual growth, where as winter is a mashal for times when this is not so easy and we must focus on spiritual maintanence.
Even taking this more literally it makes sense. It is easier to be a happier enthusiastic eved Hashem when the weather is nice and pleasent than when its cold and yucky outside.

One can still ask though, how excatly do you get to the Yimei Ha'ahava when you are entrenched in Yimei Ha'sinah? Even though we need the Yimei Ha'sinah to repleneish our co'chos and its completely natural to go through them, how do we keep them to a minimum?

Rav Volbe already hinted to an answer, but he writes about this in greater detail in the introduction to the sefer. We already said that in times of sinah one should hold on to what he can and even if you ease up on optional things, one should try so hard not to stop keeping the Chovos.
This is not just some magic formula, Rav Volbe writes that this advice in hinted to the parshiyos of Shema. The first Perek of Shema starts out with "Vehavta Eis...." When you love Hashem... When you are in Yimei Ha' ahava, then put the words I tell you "on your heart" and learn them, and follow them... Thats when its easy to do, in Yimei Ha'ahava.
Then in the second perek of Shema the psukim talk about people who stray from Hashem "pen yifteh livavchem..." and do not feel connected to Him. What does the passuk say to do?
"Ve'samtem es divar'i ai'leh al lev'avchem...." Even if you don't feel it, put these words on your heart, learn them and do them. The you will come back to Hashem and feel it on the inside.

Its best to love Hashem and therefore do his mitzvos, but if you are not feeling anything, do his mitzvos anyway!!! and then you will come to love Him!

The message of winter is that we can't be going in the same direction all the time, thats part of nature. Take the days of Yimei Ha'sinah to evaluate and understand what you need to work harder on. Don't dispair during these times, and never give it all up!

Some ideas about Snow

Just an interesting idea that I came across last year that comes to my mind whenever it snows (as it did today!). In the end of Shmuel Bet, the Navi goes through a list of various people in the "cabinet" of David Hamelech. One of them was his army general, Binayahu ben Yehoyada. In order to describe his tremendous strength in both spiritual and physical matters, the passuk tells us, "U' Benayahu Ben Yehoyada ben ish chayil she'hicah es ha'ari be'toch ha'bor be'yom ha'sheleg" "And Benayahu ben Yehoyada was the son of a man of valor who killed a lion in a pit on a snowy day." The Ramchal comments on this passuk that the fact that he accomplished this great feat on a snowy day is irrelevant. Ma HaKesher snowy day?!
The answer that the Ramchal gives us is best understood in the context of a Rashi in the beginning of Sefer Beraishis. Rashi tells us that originally Hashem created the world to run bemiddas hadin - with the trait of judgement. This means that people get only and exactly what they deserve, and nothing more- pure justice! Hashem saw that the world could not be run this way, and decided to change it to middas harachamim. This allows Hashem to do chessed for us and we get more than we deserve and are not punished immediately when we sin.
However, an individual on an extremely high level, (such as Yaakov Avinu - see Seforno passuk tes zayin beginning of parshas Veyetzei) can stand in front of Hashem bemiddas hadin - and survive, because even if he gets exactly what he deserves and Hashem judges him extremely carefully he still will not deserve to be punished.
The Ramchal explains that Binayahu Ben Yehoyada was on this level, and we know that because he was able to kill the lion on a snowy day.
How does a snowy day teach us this?
The Ramchal explains that a snowy day is a day of ultimate justice, a day run on middas hadin. Snow symbolizes middas hadin. Normally something white symbolizes rachamim, but snow is white that is frozen and stiff - din is unyeilding and stiff. The passuk is telling us that not only did Binayahu have the zechuyos to overcome a lion, but he did it on a snowy day! He completely and totally deserved to beat that lion, he had no chat'a'im that would make him undeserving, Hashem did not need to act towards him with chessed in order for him to overcome the lion.
(An interesting point is that in the Torah, snow is used as a metaphor for tzara'as - "Baheres azza ka'sheleg," a strong leprosy like snow." Tzara'as is the one punishment that people used to get immediately, for speaking lashon hara. Today this no longer happens, as on our level people would just be getting tzara'as all the time and we are not zocheh to get such direct hashgacha. But tzara'as is middas hadin in action, as its an immediate, harsh punishment, and it is interestingly compared to snow).
Snow is a nice reminder for us that we can all be striving towards a point where we can go before Hashem and not be in need of so much rachamim.

Marbim Ha'am Le'havi

In this weeks parsha, in Perek lamed vav, passuk hey, Moshe says "Marbim Ha'am Le'havi." Bnei Yisrael are bringing to many donations to the Mishkan. A message was then sent out to everyone to tell them to stop bringing Trumah.
At first glance this seems to be a strange little episode. Even if there was more donations than were actually needed, why make such a big deal about it and tell people to stop bringing. Why couldn't they just store the extras and appreciate the enthusiasism that Bnei Yisrael had for this mitzva.
Imagine if today a tzedakah organization put out an announcement that they have recieved enough money, and they are no longer accepting donations. Its hard to imagine, not only because the needs of these organizations are endless, but because making such a statement would be foolish. In the future people would be less likely to donate to them, as it seems like they don't want or need the help of their donors. If you want to help someone, and they say "stop, I don't need you I have enough help," it might discourage you from offering again.
On a superficial level, it seems that Moshe did exactly this.
I think that examining a Ramban at the begining of Sefer Beraishis will help us understand what was really going on in our parsha.
Many people are probably familiar with the first Rashi in the Torah, and Ramban's questions on this Rashi. Rashi quotes for us Rabbi Yitchak, who says that the Torah really should have started from Hachodesh Hazeh Lachem, the mitzvah of sanctifying the new moon, for this is the first Mitzva in the Torah. The reason that the Torah starts with the history of the world is so that we will have what to say to the nations when they claim Eretz Yisrael is not ours.
The Ramban finds Rashi's question to be somewhat lacking, as it makes perfect sense to start the Torah with the creation of the world and all that followed. The ideas and stories in Sefer Beraishis and the begining of Shemos are all fundamental parts of Judaism, how could it be that the only reason all of it was written is to give us proof that Eretz Yisrael belongs to us.
Rav Chaim Freidlander, in the Sifsei Chaim, explains that Rashi's question is not how we understood it to be at first glance. Rashi is asking why the Torah did not start with the first mitzva of Kiddush Hachodesh, and then backtrack and tell us the history of the world. Rashi does not think that all of Sefer Berashis is unecisary! The Torah does not need to be in chronological order, so why not start with the first mitzva?
In order to appreciate the strength of this question we must truely understand the significance of recieving the first mitzva. The whole world was created for no other reason than for Torah and Mitzvos. The Sifsei Chayim explains that the giving of the first mitzva to Bnei Yisrael changed the way the entire world was run. Beforehand, the world was run purely by Hashgachat Hashem, independent of the deeds of Bnei Yisrael. Hashem chose Avraham and the the Jewish people to be the Am Segulah, they did not have any zechuyot to merit this. Once they were given the first mitzva of HaChodesh Hazeh Lachem, the world began to run on a completly new path. Now the Hashgacha of Hashem is dependent on our actions. It's the deeds of Bnei Yisrael that determine how Hashem will run the world.
What Mitzva is more appropriate to change the world this way than Kiddush HaChodesh. This mitzva epitomizes how Hashem puts matters into the hands of man, and it is they who determine how everything will be. It is man, and not G-d who proclaims the new month, thus determining when all the holidays will be.
We can now understand Rashi's question on a greater level. Of course the Torah should start out by telling us the ideal way for Hashgacha to be in this world.
So why does the Torah start by telling us that Hashem created the world, and ran it independent of our deeds?
The Gemara in Shabbos tells us that when we are being mehader a mitzva we can not spend more than an extra third to make it beautiful.
The Maharal explains the reason for this limit. Mitzvos involve taking something physical, like an esrog and making it a spiritual object through using it for a mitzva. When we spend more than an extra third on making it beautiful, the pysical aspect of the mitzva starts to become the ikar, the main part of the mitzva, and the spiritual aspect becomes secondary. The mitzva becomes more about us than Hashem.
This is what began to happen in the Mishkan. Bnei Yisrael were so excited and so generous in their donations that they began to loose sight of why they were donating. Giving Trumah to the Mishkan must be done with the proper intentions and awareness of the significance of this Mitzva. Moshe did not want people donating without feeling an awe at the importance of this act.
Thats why he told them to stop coming. The Mishkan should not be built from materials donated without thinking or without pure intentions.
The reason that the Torah starts with the story of Berashis is to remind us that despite our ability to do mitzvos and influence the way the world is run, Hashem is the sole power behind everything, and we cannot loose sight of that! Doing mitzvos is about doing what Hashem wants, not for any other reason.
The two practical lessons that I think we can learn from that are
1. Our actions have a real effect on our own personal hashgacha's as well as hashgacha for the klall.
2. We must never loose sight of why we do mitzvos and why we are mehader in mitzvos.

Hi!

I don't really know how to introduce this blog, as the way I will do things is not yet so clear in my mind. I think I will mainly use it as a forum to share interesting and inspiring Torah insights I come across each week. I hope you enjoy!