Parshas Behar: Second Chances

Hello everyone!

As we approach Shavuot, the time of receiving the Torah, this week feels especially poignant, particularly as we reflect on the events of the past year. We're feeling the impact of Lag BaOmer this year in a much deeper way, prompting us to consider the profound lessons embedded in our tradition.

Rabbi Shimon Bar Yochai taught a powerful truth: there are three invaluable gifts given to the Jewish people, yet these gifts are acquired only through suffering. As the Midrash teaches, "You can only acquire these gifts if you are willing to suffer for them and go through hard times." These gifts are the Torah, Eretz Yisrael (the Land of Israel), and Olam Haba (the World to Come). Just as Torah was earned through trials and life in Eretz Yisrael often presents its own challenges, a share in the World to Come sometimes demands facing deep struggles.

The Crowns We Earn

Why are these three gifts tied to suffering? Our tradition speaks of three crowns given to the Jewish people: the Crown of Priesthood (Keter Kehunah), the Crown of Royalty (Keter Malchut), and the Crown of Torah (Keter Torah). The priesthood and royalty are inherited, passed down through lineage without requiring personal suffering to prove worthiness. But the Torah—that crown truly becomes yours only if you prove yourself worthy of it through effort and dedication.

Consider Ruth, whose story we read on Shavuot. She exemplified this principle, willing to endure poverty and humiliation because her deepest desire was a life of Torah. Why would Hashem design a world where precious things are acquired with such difficulty? Because, as we know, what comes too easily is often lost just as quickly. The true value of something is often measured by the effort invested in acquiring it. If we genuinely want something to become an integral part of us, we must be willing to put in tremendous effort, stepping out of our comfort zones to fully embrace it.

Walking in the Path of Torah

This week's Parasha, Behar, opens with the verse, ***"Im Bechukotai Telechu"***—"If you shall walk in the path of My laws." Rashi, our seminal commentator, beautifully clarifies this phrase: it means "sheh'tihyu amelim baTorah"—"that you should toil in Torah."

Why "walk" and not "learn" or "do"? Because "to walk" implies continuous movement, constant investment. It means never stopping, always moving forward. This "toiling in Torah" extends beyond mere study; it encompasses observing mitzvot, supporting those who learn, and actively integrating Torah into every facet of our lives. This applies to everyone—men, women, and children alike—who are willing to invest themselves.

This week also marks the period of Hod in the Sefirah count, often associated with splendor. What is true splendor? The Midrash provides a powerful answer. When Moshe Rabbeinu ascended to Heaven to receive the Torah, the angels protested: "This splendid Torah belongs in Heaven! Don't send it down to Earth!" But Hashem declared that a higher level of purity is achieved by bringing Torah down to Earth, where we uphold it and integrate it into our lives by overcoming temptations. This is true splendor: not a static, untouchable holiness, but a vibrant, lived reality.

The Power of Human Connection to Torah

The well-known Midrash about Moshe and the angels highlights humanity's unique capacity for Torah. When the angels questioned why a human, with a physical body, should receive the Torah, Moshe Rabbeinu’s counter-argument was profound: "Does the Torah's prohibition against idol worship apply to you? Do you have parents to honor? Do you face the temptations that require these mitzvot?" The angels conceded, recognizing that the Torah's essence lies in its application to the human condition, where challenges and choices abound.

This Midrash teaches us the greatness of humanity. Moshe Rabbeinu, a being of flesh and blood, could ascend to such spiritual heights because of his complete dedication to Torah. It reveals that we, too, can reach the highest levels of purity by attaching ourselves to Torah. The question then becomes: how much are we truly willing to invest? What respect do we show, not only for Torah itself, but also for its scholars?

Learning from Destruction: The Sin of Indifference

As we read Parashat Behar with its challenging curses, we're reminded that these prophecies manifested during the destruction of the First Beit HaMikdash (First Temple). Why read them now, just weeks before Shavuot? Our Sages teach us that reading these curses at this time is a prayer: ***"Tichleh Shanah V'Kileloteha"***—"May the past year and its curses end." It’s a plea for a new beginning, marked by goodness.

The destruction of the First Temple, despite the presence of great Torah scholars, stemmed from three cardinal sins: idolatry, murder, and immorality. Yet, the prophet Yirmeyahu’s words reveal a deeper root cause: ***"Al Ozvam et Torati"***—"They abandoned My Torah." But how could this be, if they were studying Torah? The Midrash clarifies: ***"Shelo Birtzu Brichat HaTorah"***—"They did not say the blessing of Torah."

This isn't a technical point about reciting words. It’s about appreciation. When we recite Birkat HaTorah each morning, "Blessed are You, Hashem… Who chose us… and gave us His Torah," do we truly feel its life-giving importance? Do we genuinely feel that Torah is the most vital value in our lives, giving meaning and purpose to our very existence? Do we sincerely desire that we, and our children, should experience the "pleasantness of Torah"? True investment in Torah begins with heartfelt appreciation.

This brings us to a crucial lesson from the verse ***"Im Tehalechu Immi B'Keri"***—"If you walk with Me by coincidence." Hashem warns that if our connection to Him is merely casual, coincidental, or when it suits us, then He too will treat us with such "coincidence."

The Midrash tells us that the yetzer hara (evil inclination) has many names, but its most dangerous is "tzefon"—hidden. This refers to indifference. The yetzer hara attacks us most severely when it causes us to be indifferent to the events that take place around us. A fleeting reaction, a moment of sadness, but then life goes on unchanged. Indifference prevents us from asking: "What is Hashem telling me? What does He want of me?" It stops us from examining if we've become more considerate, more loving, or if we've brought even a drop more light into a world often filled with dispute and baseless hatred. The greatest danger isn't external evil, but internal apathy.

A Small Act, a Better World

Let me end with a story that illustrates the power of a small act to make the world better. It's said that many years ago, a bus driver in Israel encountered a mother with three children running desperately to catch his bus. She rushed on, out of breath, explaining she was late for work and needed to drop her children at school. She promised to pay once settled. But when she opened her handbag, she realized she'd forgotten her wallet. Embarrassed, she approached the driver, ready to get off at the next stop.

"Lady, don't worry," he said. "Your four tickets—they're paid for." "Really? How?" she asked, astonished. "We have a gemach on our bus," he replied, referring to a free-loan fund.

A man behind the driver, overhearing, was curious: "A bus gemach? Who made this gemach?"

The driver explained, "Our Rav, Rabbi Edelstein, always taught me that to be a better person, the most important thing is to do chesed (kindness), to think about others, to be considerate. I'm just a bus driver, I thought, what can I do? So, I decided with my own money, I'd buy a few bus cards. Whoever can't pay or forgot their ticket, I punch my cards for them. That's my gemach."

It was a simple, thoughtful act of chesed.

As we approach Shavuot, let us strengthen ourselves to be "amelim baTorah," to do abundant chesed, and to be more considerate of others. Let us realize that Torah is the most splendid thing we possess, and it is truly worthwhile to invest deeply in it, with our time and our efforts.

Have a wonderful Shabbos!