Divrei Bo
Change
“And Hashem said to Moshe and to Aharon in the land of Mitzrayim, saying, ‘This month shall be for you the beginning of the months; it shall be for you the first of the months of the year.’” (Shmos 12:1-2) The Slonimer Rav zt”l asks several questions about these posukim, which introduce the mitzvoh of kiddush hachodesh. First, the very first Rashi in Chumash notes that the Torah could logically have started from the mitzvos, not from Maaseh Breishis. Why is this mitzvoh so special that it is the first one to be given to Am Israel? Second, why is it inlaid into the parshah of yetzias Mitzrayim, before the mitzvos of korbon pesach? Third, the Mechiltah explains the unusual wording “lachem -- for you” that until this point, humanity counted time using the sun. From now on, we used the moon. However, other mitzvos also separate us from the nations. Why does the Torah designate kiddush hachodesh with “lachem?” Finally, why must the Torah tell us that Hashem gave the mitzvoh specifically in the land of Mitzrayim?
The Slonimer answers that Chazal (B.R. 6:3) tell us that the nations are likened to the sun, which shines only by day; and Israel is likened to the moon, which shines by both day and by night The depth of these comparisons forms the answers to all these questions. Even when the moon is new and utterly invisible, it will soon return to its fullness. Likewise, with this “lachem,” Hashem set in motion a top-to-bottom-to-top cycle that His people must follow, both personally and nationally. Change is our constant; even in Israel’s darkest times, when we spend long years in painful exile, we know that the light of Hashem will shine forth once again.
This fact brings us to joy and happiness, as it says in the brachah we make on kiddush levanah, “He gave them a decree and a set time, that they not change their assigned task. They are joyful and happy to perform the will of their Owner.” When a Jew faces a personal or national crisis, he can take comfort and derive strength from knowing that this particular situation is in fact normal, and that it will change, for the better.
This knowledge is placed before yetzias Mitzrayim, for it creates a foundation for our emunah. Even the best of the nations, when confronted with adversity, throw off their ancient allegiances. (Is it any wonder that the ancient Incas and Aztecs, once conquered by the Catholic Spanish, became in turn the most fervent devotees of Rome in the world?)
Israel, however, holds onto its ties with Hashem, even in the valley of death. Every occurrence emanates directly from Hashem and therefore is truly the best thing that could ever happen. Even while writhing from the worst yesorim, while experiencing the bleakest hester panim, a Jew knows that he is a crown prince, a son of the King himself. His pain is bearable, for it is purposeful.
There is also an active dimension to “hachodesh hazeh lachem.” When Hashem gave us this mitzvoh, He also endowed us with an enormous power – to change ourselves and thereby change reality. As we say in the brachah: “To the moon He said that it should renew itself as a crown of splendor for those [Israel] borne from the womb, those who are destined to renew themselves like it.”
No Jew must settle with the hand he has been dealt. Ayn mazel l’Israel: just as we can change our very personalities (as the Rambam outlines in Hilchos Deos), so also can we transform the world itself. Therefore, the Torah specifies that this mitzvoh was given “b’eretz Mitzrayim,” which can also mean “in the land of limitations,” to tell us that even in the gloomiest times, a Jew can harness this cosmic force and spark a spiritual revolution.
Lachem, v’lo l’akum. The other nations are locked into their destinies. At best, they must learn to cope with and accept their lot.
When we Jews harness this Divine-given force, the “laws of nature” can fall away. Our bookshelves are full of stories of miraculous cures and hair-tingling escapes which reflect our power of hischadshus, total renewal,
All of the Slonimer’s questions are answered. Kiddush HaChodesh is the first mitzvoh given to the Jewish nation because it speaks to our fundamental relationship to Hashem. Unlike the nations, we have no limits.
The Power of a Complaint, From Harav Shalom Meir Wallach
The Arizal was once sitting in a field near Tzfas, teaching the secrets of the Torah to a select group of students. Suddenly, he stopped his lecture and declared, “I hear an announcement resounding throughout all the heavens. A decree has been cast upon Tzfas – a huge swarm of locusts will descend upon it and will devour every bit of vegetation – all because of one poor man, Yaakov Eltaratz. His neighbors have not helped him, and he is complaining right now about the ways of Hashem. We must hurry to collect some money and give it to him. Perhaps that will calm the Divine anger.”
Immediately, they pooled their on-hand funds together and sent it with Rabbi Yitzchok HaCohen, who ran to Yaakov’s home, where he found the poor man crying.
“Why are you crying?” asked Rabbi Yitzchok.
“How can I not cry?” moaned Yaakov, “It is not enough that I am poor, but my water jug just broke, and I have no money for another one. So I am crying before Hashem, ‘Ribono shel olam, why must I suffer? Am I a bigger rasha than other people?’”
Amazed at the Arizal’s ruach hakodesh, Rabbi Yitzchok gave Yaakov the money and said, “From now on, avoid complaining about the ways of Hashem. You caused a terrible decree in the heavens!” He then explained how and why he had been sent.
Shocked, Yaakov begged Hashem to forgive his neighbors and rescind the decree.
When Rabbi Yitzchok returned to the field, the Arizal stated, “Because of all of you, the decree has been overturned.” He then continued to teach, as if nothing had happened.
Suddenly, the sky darkened, as a huge cloud of locusts suddenly appeared. The Arizal calmed his frightened students, “Don’t worry! Yaakov has forgiven, and the decree is annulled.”
A powerful wind abruptly sprang up, caught the enormous swarm, and carried it into the sea!
From that day onwards, the people of Tzfas were very careful to provide Yaakov with all his needs. So successful were they that he was able to devote all his time to Torah and grow in learning to such a point that he was eventually appointed Rav of Tripoli!
A Soldier’s Story
In the year 5640 (1880), the Chofetz Chaim was visited in Radin by Shimshe, a baker’s son who, like thousands of other young Jewish men, had been drafted into the Russian army. Shimshe had been assigned to serve in far-off Kafkaz, in modern-day Azerbaijan. While on leave, he wanted to acquire and bring back with him as much spirituality as he could.
The Chofetz Chaim greeted Shimshe warmly and asked, “How do soldiers like you manage to do mitzvohs in such places?”
“What can I tell you, Rebbe,” answered Shimshe sadly. “It’s difficult! For example, this past Pesach, we had no matzos. Why? We had no wheat, just oats and rye.”
“What did you do?” asked the Chofetz Chaim with a tremble.
“We ate rye bread,” innocently answered Shimshe, “At least that’s just kitniyos.”
“Oy vavoy!” moaned the Chofetz Chaim. “Rye is also a grain! You could have made kosher matzos from that rye! Now you ate mamash chometz!”
Shimshe’s face paled. “How should we have known? We thought that chometz and matzoh came only from wheat!”
“It’s in the Shulchan Aruch,” explained the Chofetz Chaim.
“Rebbe,” said Shimshe, “there aren’t any copies where I’m stationed.”
From this conversation,
the Chofetz Chaim was inspired to write Machane Israel, a guideline to
Jewish law for soldiers. Thousands of backpacks carried this sefer to the
battlefield.
New Math
Think about the many
hours that you spend reading newspapers. Could you devote a small part of that
time and read through Sefer Ezra/Nechemiah, at least in English?
-- HaRav Avigdor Miller zt”l