Tag Archive for Yosef mishteh

The Symbol of the Jewish People

This article was constructed with the help of either writings, lectures or shiurim of  Rabbi’s  Chaim Shmuelevitz z”tl, Pinchas Winston, Eliyahu ben Chaim,  Asher Hurzberg, Binny Friedman, Dovid Green and Dr. Steven Fine

“Shalom” – are we ever going to have peace with the nations of the world, or for that matter, ourselves? It seems very remote; perhaps when Hillary Clinton grows a beard or Donald Trump realizes that he is serving the country and not the country is serving him. Incredibly, even our national identity is being hidden from us. One of the signature symbols of the Jewish nation is the Menorah. We, the Jewish people, have an illustrious and historic past. Miraculously we’ve persevered through thousands of years of persecution and pogroms … just ask your Abba, your Sabbath and Savta, and they’ll tell you firsthand what troubles they’ve encountered. Nonetheless, we can hold our head up high with pride. We have kept our traditions, our culture our commitment to Torah and G-d, well at least some of us, while our past enemies vanished with no trace. However because of the many attacks and invasions over the years against us, of which there have been a few, we have lost many of the physical treasures which symbolizes and stamps our commitment to G-d.

In every battles and the invasion, the enemy, whomever they were at the time, always managed to take booty, especially, sacred objects which G-d commanded us to use for him. At times, it’s quite embarrassing, the Gentile nations know better than us how valuable they were. There is a famous story of the discovery of the golden Menorah by the Romans:

The Romans were afraid to enter the Kodesh HaKokoshim – the holy of holies – after conquering our holy Temple. They knew who ever enters there and is not worthy dies. So they said “Whoever will volunteer to enter can take whatever he wants for himself!” The rebellious Jew, Yosef Mishteh said defiantly “I will.” He proceeded to take out the beautiful golden menorah only for it to be taken away by the Romans. “This is too beautiful for a Jewish commoner. This should be given to the Emperor instead. We’ll let you go in again and take out whatever you want.” However this time he refused. “I will not desecrate my G-d a second time,” he said. Even after they threatened death he still refused. They executed him.

Aside from the many atrocities that the Romans committed against the Jewish people, one was the desecration of sacred Temple property. The very symbol of this is not in Israel, but in Rome: the Arch of Titus. Like most triumphal arches this one celebrates a victory of war, and in this case, Rome’s crushing of the Jewish revolt that resulted in the destruction of the Temple.

Inside the arch is a bas-relief sculpture showing the Roman army carrying the spoils of war down through the streets of Rome. The most notable item is a large menorah being carried down the Via Scara, and it is believed that the actual menorah is stashed in the secret tomb of Alric the Goth at the bottom of the Busento River.

What is history and what is myth? What is true and what is legend? These are questions that arise from time to time and specifically apply to the whereabouts of the Menorah.

Reporting on his 1996 meeting with Pope John Paul II, Israel’s Minister of Religious Affairs Shimon Shetreet said, according to the Jerusalem Post, that “he had asked for Vatican cooperation in locating the gold menorah from the Second Temple that was brought to Rome by Titus in 70 C.E.” Shetreet claimed that recent research at the University of Florence indicated the Menorah might be among the hidden treasures in the Vatican’s storerooms. “I don’t say it’s there for sure,” he said, “but I asked the Pope to help in the search as a goodwill gesture in recognition of the improved relations between Catholics and Jews.” Witnesses to this conversation “tell that a tense silence hovered over the room after Shetreet’s request was heard.” There was research done on Shetreet’s reference at the University of Florence, but no that was contacted there had ever heard of it.

This story has repeated itself a number of times since. One of the two chief rabbis of Israel, on their historic visit to the Vatican in 2004, asked about the Menorah, as did the President of Israel, Moshe Katzav, on another occasion. This is the official statement from the Israeli Ministry of Foreign Affairs via email: The requests by Shetreet, the president, and the chief rabbis reflect the long-held belief that the Catholic Church, as the inheritor of Rome, took possession of the empire’s booty-as documented by the Arch of Titus. It is thus assumed that, among other treasures looted from the Jewish people, the Temple menorah is stashed away someplace in the storerooms of the Vatican

These requests of the Church are a fascinating extension of the Jewish hope that the Temple Menorah taken by Titus would be returned “home.” The legends of the Menorah at the Vatican have considerable currency. In one version, a certain American rabbi entered the Vatican and saw the Menorah. In another version, it was an Israeli Moroccan rabbi known as “Rabbi Pinto” who saw it. In a third version, when the former Chief Rabbi of Israel, Isaac Herzog, went to rescue Jewish children in Europe, he visited Pope Pius XII (1939-1958) at the Vatican. According to this story, the Pope showed Rabbi Herzog the Menorah, but refused to return it.

It is frustrating how these valuable and symbolic treasures of our heritage have vanished. And there they wait, hidden from the eyes of all mankind, until the time that Heaven deems fit to reveal them once again.

It is interesting to note that although the commandment is the lighting of the menorah in our holy Temple, we find the obligation stretching further demanding the preparation of the wicks. The format in which the Torah presents us with this mitzvah is not a commandment to light the menorah, but rather an obligation to bring oil, in order that the wicks might one day be lit in the Mishkan. In other words the preparation is part of the commandment. Incredibly, Maimonides (Sefer HaMitzvoth; Aseh (positive commandment) 25) actually defines this mitzvah as: “La’aroch Nerot ba’Mikdash.” “To set up wicks (candles) in the Temple.” (And in his Hilchot Temidin 3:10-12, he clearly views setting up the candles and lighting them as essentially the same mitzvah).

Normally there is a separation between the mitzvah itself, and the preparation for the mitzvah. If one is obligated to eat matzah on Passover, the baking process is not part of the biblical obligation; it is simply the vehicle through which we make ready to fulfill this mitzvah. So why is this mitzvah, (the lighting of the menorah) different? Indeed, the Torah here does not even mention the menorah itself?

In regards to Moshe, there is something very unique, as well as highly unusual, in the topic of the menorah and the Tabernacle activity, where we find (parshat Tetzaveh)) Moshe’s name omitted completely. This is the only portion (since his birth in the portion of Exodus) where Moshe’s name does not appear.

The Midrash suggests that in the sin of the Golden calf (32:33), Moshe says to G-d: “Me’cheini Na’ Mi’Sifrechah”, “Erase me from your book.” In other words, if I cannot achieve forgiveness for the Jewish people, then I don’t want to be in the Torah. And, despite the fact that Hashem does indeed forgive us, nonetheless part of Moshe’s declaration came to pass, and thus, Moshe’s name is, indeed, not mentioned in one parsha pertaining to the Temple work.

Even more intriguing is the fact that the Pri Tzaddik explains that Moshe’s soul was actually the re-incarnation of Noach, and that the word “Mecheini” (“erase me”) are the same letters as the phrase “Mei Noach” “the floodwaters of Noach”, which is how the book of Chronicles refers to the flood, implying that on some level the tragedy of the flood was Noach’s responsibility. Unlike Abraham’s attempt to save Sedom, Noach seems to have made no effort to save the world and avert the destruction of the flood.

Moshe, however, saves the Jewish people literally putting his own name on the line rather than ‘allow’ G-d to destroy His people. On a mystical level, if you will, Moshe ‘fixes’ the error that came into the world in the time of Noach and achieves what is known as ‘Tikkun’ or a ‘repair in the world’ for Noach’s soul.

So what does all this have to do with our portion and the mitzvah of the menorah?

Firstly we have to explore the importance of what the menorah enumerates. We read in our parashah that Yitzchak brought his new wife, Rivka, into the tent of his mother Sarah. Rashi z”l writes, “He brought her into the tent and she became exactly like his mother Sarah.” He explains that several miracles that used to occur while Sarah was living began to occur again, one of them being that the Shabbat candles burned from one Shabbat eve to the next.

Our Sages teach us that light is associated with peace, because light allows man to differentiate between things. Peace exists when proper boundaries exist, which is possible only when there is light. In the dark, everything is jumbled, and there is no differentiation and therefore no peace. This is why morning is called “boker”-because the morning light permits “bikkur” / inspection, which leads to differentiation. On Shabbat there is peace because man refrains from work and rests.

Perhaps the significance of Sarah and Rivka’s Shabbat candles burning all week is that these Matriarchs distinguished themselves by their ability to differentiate where their husbands did not-in Sarah’s case, recognizing that Yishmael was a bad influence on Yitzchak; in Rivka’s case, recognizing that Yaakov, not Esav, deserved to receive Yitzchak’s blessing

The morning is a time of optimism. Awaking from the semi-death of sleep, the light and warmth of day promises rebirth, renewal, and success. If one is sensitive enough, he can feel it that which is absent from darkness. Usually one’s illness is more apparent at night. One cannot read Chumash at night (Torah sh’bchtav), only the Oral Torah. The reason is Written Torah is black and white and a Jew can’t get around it. However the Sages come and qualify the laws. Sure one cannot eat chametz on Pesach and has to relinquish ownership, but one can make a contract and sell what in his home without physically removing it, The Sages put the measure of mercy into the laws.

“And it was evening (first) and (then) it was morning; one day.”

Figuratively speaking, night represents pain and suffering. Day represents light and salvation.” For the righteous, day follows the evening. The path of the good may start out dark and painful, but in the end, it is bright, shiny and pleasant. For the evil, their path begins pleasant, but it ends with darkness and suffering. This is also the reason why the Sabbath comes on the seventh day of the week. It teaches us that there is a reward in the end for our pain and difficulties which we endure initially by taking the path of the good. (Imrei Shefer)

Moshe’s greatest attribute was his ability to recognize that he was really only a vessel for something much greater than himself. The Torah describes Moshe as the greatest Anav, the most humble person that ever lived. More than anything else Moshe was able to get out of his own way.

How often do we get so wrapped up in ourselves, and so caught up in making sure we get what we want, and what we need, that we forget that it isn’t and never was supposed to be about us; we are merely the vessel for something much greater, for the entire world.

Can I be the earth others walk on? Can I get in touch with the very real notion that I am meant to be a vehicle for light? Being a vehicle for G-d, being able to see myself merely as the wick for the flame….

Moshe was so in touch with the reality of what he was a vessel for that he was able to demonstrate that without the Jewish people, there was no longer a point to his existence.

In a time when rulers and monarchs were acting as gods, and assuming that the people existed to serve them, Moshe was teaching the world that it is not the people who serve the leader, but the leader who is meant to be a vessel to serve the people, and indeed the world.

And that is what this week’s portion, and particularly this mitzvah is all about. It is about connecting to real purpose, and valuing the vehicle for achieving that purpose.

Just like Moshe, the Menorah was only the vehicle for bringing light into the world. So often we are so dazzled by the Menorahs in this world, we forget they only have value if they are vehicles for light. Our mission as a people in the end is simply to bring light into the world.

Yet, this mitzvah is given to Aaron and his sons before they are actually invested with the mantle of the Priesthood. (See 27:21, and 28:1)

Apparently, the mitzvah of lighting the menorah was given to Aaron irrespective of his position as a Kohen, a priest. In the end, the priesthood was Aaron’s role, but the lighting of the menorah reflected who Aaron really was, and what he was all about.

In fact, it explains why it is Aaron fulfilling this mitzvah, and not Moshe. Shouldn’t it have been Moshe’s job to light the Menorah, especially as it was Moshe who brought the Torah to the world?

The answer is, Moshe was meant to bring the Torah down to earth, but it was Aaron’s mission to spread it to the world. And the reason Aaron was such an appropriate vehicle for doing this was because the attribute that epitomized Aaron was shalom; peace. In Pirkei Avot (Ethics of the Fathers) Aaron is described as the Ohev Shalom and the Rodef Shalom: the lover and pursuer of peace. The idea of being a vehicle for bringing G-d in to the world is all about peace.

In fact, the word Shalom itself is one of the names of G-d (hence the tradition that we do not say Shalom in the bathroom…). Through peace, Shalom, we succeed not only in bringing G-d into the world, but also in spreading G-d to the rest of the world.

There is an interesting connection between this mitzvah and the concept of Shalom.

The Talmud (Shabbat 21a) draws an equation between the kindling of lights in the Beit HaMikdash (the Temple), and the candles we light in our homes every Friday afternoon, ushering in Shabbat.

The Talmud explains (23b) that (at least according to Rashi), the essence of the Shabbat candles is that they bring Shalom Bayit; they bring peace into the home. Ultimately, suggests Rashi, there cannot be true peace in a place without light. The explanation given there is that if a person is stumbling in the darkness, he is not at peace. (And indeed, if people are moving around in the darkness, they will inevitably bang into each other and create discord between themselves.)

But perhaps there is a different way of looking at this idea. Ultimately, it is my ability to see and be at one with everyone, (Shalom which is based on the root Shalem, or whole) which is what peace is all about.

Shabbat begins with the lighting of candles, because Shabbat reminds us what this world is really all about, and what it is supposed to be: all about light. And if the Mikdash is a sanctuary in space, whose essence is related to light, Shabbat is a sanctuary in time whose essence is also light. (Thus, unless one specifies otherwise, the lighting of the candles automatically ushers in the Shabbat.)

May G-d bless us soon, to become, as a people the vehicle for light we are meant to be, and create together a world of light and shalom, truly whole all of us together.

Appreciate this great country

This article was comprised using thoughts from Rabbi’s Akiva Grunblatt, Jay Shapiro,

Yossi Bilus, Baruch Dopelt, Isaac Oelbaum and Dr. Robert Goldman
 

 

 

 

 

 

 

We see a very interesting lesson in this week’s parsha in regards to HAKARAT HATOV, appreciating what one does for you.  The Torah demonstrates this concept to a large extent by showing Moshe’s sensitivities to inanimate objects:

1) Moshe does not strike the Nile river with his staff to bring on the first plague of blood, but designates his brother Aharon to do so. The basket with baby Moshe was placed in the Nile.  The waters helped conceal the newborn preventing the Egyptian monsters from killing him.

2) The pattern continues; Moshe does not hit the ground initiating the plague of Keenim-gnats (3rd) because the ground helped him conceal the Egyptian guard that he killed protecting a fellow Jew. Again, his brother Aharon hit the ground instead.

Why would I hit something that has done me good? This was Moshe rational. We deduce from Moshe’s actions, being  so caring toward inanimate objects, that one should be even more sensitive to people who have done something good for them.
Many years ago my family had some real estate which we rented out. One of our tenants was a new immigrant from Russia. I was very impressed with his awareness and appreciation of how the United States government initially helped him. Now he’s a homeowner himself; but the initial grateful response of how this country helped him and his family stand on their own two feet will always be embedded in my mind.

Even though the Mitzrim enslaved us, our ancestors, we can’t shun their offspring totally because they housed us during famine.  Even more so, for an amazing host like America that not only takes care of our physical needs but also enables our religious institutions, making it easier to practice and enhance our Torah education.

 

The constitution, with its Bill of Rights containing freedom of religion, speech and expression is enormous; it gives us the opportunity to grow as Jews in every sense of the word. In turn,  we have to appreciate these privileges by giving respect to its institutions like democracy, voting etc. It includes patriotism and even fighting and dying for it. It certainly includes keeping its laws.

However there are those that take advantage of the goodness of others and, believe it or not, steal from the same programs that are meant to provide help.

It says in last week’s parsha: A new king arose who did not know of Yosef. This is implying that Pharoah didn’t appreciate all that Yosef did for Egypt. Not only did he single-handedly save them from famine, Egypt became an epicenter for distribution of food. All this was initiated by a Jew, Joseph.

However,  hakarat hatov – appreciating what one does for you – a very important human trait which one most definitely should possess was not found in Pharoah. This flaw led to the demise of Egypt. As punishment they were never acknowledged as a super power again.

If one remembers we had mentioned an incredible story that happened in our Jewish history. Yeosh was hidden as a toddler after the wicked queen killed off the entire house of David. We know from basic Jewish knowledge that the monarch has to come from David ben Ishai’s offspring’s. When the time was right, Yehoyada, the high priest, organized a coup and killed the queen. He then put the seven year old Yeosh in power. Under the guidance and nurturing  of Yehoyada,  Yeosh blossomed as king. He actually became a very good one. However after the death of Yehoyada, Yeosh began to be influenced in a bad way. What started as a very heartwarming story turned sour and ended up being a case of one of the greatest fundamental lack of human character ever. Yeosh, paranoid that he would lose power, killed off the then high priest, who happened to be the son of Yehoyada!!  Where is the hakarat hatov- appreciation of what one does for you!! You kill from the hand that has fed you, taught you, nourished you; kept you alive. Where is the gratitude?!

Our patient G-d draws measure for measure. At times one is able to see this.  After some time Yeosh was assassinated by people from Amon and Moav.

What is the significance of Amon and Moav? The Torah says if an individual comes from Amon and Moav, and wants to convert, we are forbidden to take him in. The reason for this is when the Jews were in the dessert Amon and Moav did not allow them to pass through or even give them any food.  A tremendous flaw in common decency considering  our ancestor and forefather Avraham raised, housed, protected and even put his life on the line for their ancestor Lot. Where is the appreciation?

We don’t want that kind of character flaw in our congregation. We have to be very grateful we’re living in these circumstances in this great big country called USA. One inevitably has to ask a question: If we have it so good, freedom this and freedom that, then why is this beautiful time called the GALUT-diaspora?

Hey man, this is it!  REDEMPTION!!

In these parshiot of the slavery and the redemption out of Egypt, we learn a very significant lesson on how we should conduct ourselves. As the pasuk says, METZUYANIM SHAM – they stood out there. They were purposely different. This is by design. The bracha living in such a country is the fact that the non-Jews let us be who we are and this is who we are suppose to be. They give us that KAVOD and we in turn show the greatest of appreciation. However the bracha is not to act like non-Jews. That was not the initiative of G-d.

Being a Jew first doesn’t mean not having utmost respect for USA. The difference is Judaism is a life identification. It’s stronger.  When the prophet Yonah was asked who are you? Where do you come from? What do you do?  He had one answer.  IVRI anochi-I, am a Jew. That’s my essence, nothing else.
There is a little story that’s a teaser and has been circulated in every diaspora in our history. A man comes home from shul and informs his wife. “Pack our bags the Mashiach is coming, we’re going to the promised land”. She retorts “What are we going to do with the farm”. He answers back ” We are Jews, so we have to go through another TZARA-ordeal.”
If we look at that opportunity as an ordeal then we are too comfortable where we are.

 

Trust me it’s quite difficult to forgo a lifestyle and a culture and to move. A friend moved to Israel many years ago; it took him 9 years to get used to Israel after being born and bred in New York. There was a snowy blanket covering Jerusalem recently. I saw a picture via Facebook of my friend playing and building a snowman in the streets of the holy city. He’s 51 years old !! It reminds me, and I’m sure him, of us playing as kids in the streets of Queens. I’m sure he remembers how it was at night in Queens with the reflection of the snow and the addition of the decorative, sharp, bright color lights of the non-Jewish holiday, as well as the Chanukah menorah illuminating the sky. This was an unforgettable  moment of our cultural past.

            Snowman at the Kotel
After spending an entire summer in Tel Aviv when I was 8 years old, I got so homesick for pizza that no one, not my grandparents or cousins could console me. One of my relatives even went clear across town on his little moped (remember them) to find this foreign food. No one ever heard of pizza then. Boy has time changed.

The first thing which reminds me of spring is matzah and cream cheese and the cracking sound of a baseball bat hitting a ball and the smell of a leather baseball glove. It’s hard not to get sucked into the emotional aspect of a culture.

Perhaps one can put things in perspective with a very significant symbolic occurrence in last week’s parsha pertaining to the burning bush. If one reads the pasuk carefully one realizes the bush was not in the midst of the fire. (Shemot 3:2) The fire appeared within the bush. Moshe saw the fire within the bush. We also see in the last parsha of the Torah, VEZOT HABRACHA, where Yosef’s blessing is referring to this very incident of Moshe’s first encounter with G-d and the bush.
There is a incredible explanation from Rabbi Oelbaum pertaining to the burning bush phenomena which can be understood better with a famous story. The Romans were afraid to enter the  Kodesh HaKokoshim – the holy of holies – after conquering our holy Temple. So they said  “Whoever will volunteer to enter can take whatever he wants for himself.” The rebellious Jew Yosef Mishteh said defiantly “I will”. He proceeded to take out the beautiful golden menorah only to be taken away by the Romans. “This is to beautiful for a Jewish commoner. This should be given to the Emperor instead. We’ll let you go in again and take out whatever you want. However this time he refused. I will not desecrate my G-d a second time ” he said. Even after they threatened death he still refused. They executed him. The question the Sages asked what transpired within the period of time between the first time he went in and the second? Why the sudden change of heart? Why did he now care about his creator when before he didn’t?

The burning bush, which is the first thing G-d introduced to Moshe, represents that each Jew has a fire within him that is waiting to come out. Yosef was blessed for the fact that he maintained that fire throughout his lonely diaspora. Fire begets fire; when Yosef Mishteh walked into the Kodesh hakadoshim he was enamored by the majestic holiness of the place. That brought out the fire within him. It’s a fire we all have and protects us from the emotional aspect that connects us to the seductive diaspora.

We have to put things in perspective. It’s our duty as Jews and Halacha from the Torah to abide by the laws of the land, and most important, appreciate the United States of America; appreciate what circumstance G-d has put us in, that we can practice our religion; we should take advantage of our freedom. We should be who we are and what we are supposed to be.