Friday, April 22, 2016

Are You Ready?

Rabbi Alon Anava with all the proofs that Moshiach is so close. At 43 mins he talks about ''the star'' [Nibiru].


Wednesday, April 20, 2016

Splitting Your Own Sea


by Rabbi Aron Moss - Nefesh

Question of the Week: Why did the Israelites have to pass through the Red Sea? On my map of the Middle East, the route from Egypt to Israel is directly through the desert. The sea is totally out of the way. G-d led them on a detour, trapping them between the sea and the chasing Egyptians, and then split the sea. Does G-d have no sense of direction? 

Answer: The Israelites passing through the Red Sea was not a geographical necessity, but a spiritual one. At the Red Sea, we were shown the power of the human soul. 

The earth is comprised of oceans and continents, sea and dry land. The difference between the two is that on dry land, all is open and visible. The trees, animals, mountains and people that occupy it are all easily recognisable. The sea on the other hand is a big blue expanse of mystery. Though the sea is teeming with life, when you look at it you can identify nothing, all is hidden beneath the surface. 

So it is with a person. Our personality has two layers: our sea, and our land. What we know of ourselves, our visible strengths, our tested talents and our known abilities, the elements of our character that we are aware of, these comprise the dry land of our personality. But below the surface of our character lies a vast sea of latent talents, inner strengths and untapped abilities that we never knew we had. In the depth of our soul lies a reserve of dormant energy waiting to be discovered. This is our sea, and even we ourselves are unaware of what lies there. How can we access this reservoir of potential? 

How can our sea become dry land? There is only one way. And we know it from the encounter at the Red Sea. 

The Israelites had their back to the wall: Egyptians closing in on one side, a raging sea threatening on the other. They had only two options, despair or faith. Logic and reason demanded that they give in. There was no possible way out of their predicament. But faith demanded that they keep marching to the Promised Land. Sea or no sea, this is the path that G-d has led us, so we have to have faith and march on. And so they did. 

It was at that moment, when hopelessness was countered by faith, that the impossible happened, and the sea opened up to become dry land. The most formidable obstacle dissolved into nothingness, without a struggle, just with faith. The people became empowered exactly when they acknowledged G-d as the only true power. By surrendering themselves to a higher force, they discovered the force within them. They split their own sea. 

The Jewish people are no strangers to times of challenge. At the very birth of our nation, we needed to learn how to face these challenges. So G-d took us on a detour to the sea and opened it up for us. He was telling every Jew for all times: Obstacles are not interruptions to the journey, they are the journey. Keep marching towards the Promised Land. Every challenge along the way will give you deeper insight and renewed power. Just have faith. It will split your sea.



Tuesday, April 19, 2016

Monday, April 18, 2016

The Kabbalah of the Three Matzot

by Rav DovBer Pinson

The Three Matzos: Their Outer and Inner Meanings
What is the simple halachic reason that we use three Matzos when leading a Seder? It is so we will have two whole, unbroken matzos over which to bless ha-motzi—as we do at every Shabbos and Yom Tov meal—as well as one matzah to break during the Seder.

The two loaves of Shabbos and Yom Tov commemorate the two whole portions of manna that miraculously appeared every Friday, allowing us to dedicate the day of Shabbos to being with Hashem, rather than to gathering the day’s food. The third matzah of the Seder is broken, symbolizing Lechem Oni, or the ‘bread of poverty’. [Devarim, 16:3] A poor person must ration his food, so he breaks his loaf and hides a portion to eat later.

The Rif [Tenth Century], and the Gra [Eighteenth Century] used only two matzos for the Seder. They held the opinion that we need only one whole unbroken matzah, and one matzah to break. The prevailing opinion today is to use three matzos, two whole matzos and one broken matzah.

Remez, the Hinted Reason for Three Matzos
The three matzos hint at the minimum three matzos that were offered in Temple times as a todah, a ‘thanksgiving offering’. This offering was made when a person was saved from danger or released from prison. On Pesach, we give thanks for the Exodus from Egypt, which was like being freed from prison. [Mordechai]

The three matzos also remind us of when Avraham/Abraham is visited by the angels and he calls to Sarah, “Hurry! Three measures of the finest flour! Knead it, and make ugos [round breads].”[Bereishis 18:6] The Midrash says this meal takes place on Pesach, and the ugos are matzos, made in a hurry so they do not become Chametz .

D’rash, the Expanded Reason for Three Matzos
The three matzos represent the three patriarchs—Avraham, Yitzchak/ Isaac and Yaakov/ Jacob.[Rokeach] They also represent the three categories of Jews—Cohein, Levi, and Yisrael. [Arizal]

When we are preparing for the Seder, we stack the matzos in this order: first the matzah representing Yisrael on the bottom, then Levi above it, and finally the Cohein on top. In this order, their acronym is YeiLeCh, meaning ‘going’ or journeying. The Seder is a process, a journey towards liberation. [The Rebbe Rayatz]

Sod, the Mystical Reason for Three Matzos
Our sages tell us, that, “A child does not know how to call ‘Father’ or ‘Mother’ until he tastes grain.” [Sanhedrein, 70b] This implies that the consumption of wheat is associated with our intellectual development. The Arizal, R. Yitzchak Luria, says that the three matzos symbolize the three forms of intellect: Chochma or ‘wisdom’, Binah or ‘understanding’, and Da’as or ‘awareness’.

The matzah on the bottom of the stack is the one that is combined with Maror [bitter herbs] to make Hillel’s sandwich. This matzah specifically embodies Da’as, a Sefirah that brings together opposites. Hillel’s sandwich brings together the intellect [matzah] and emotions [maror], or brings together redemption [matzah] and slavery [maror].

The middle matzah is broken into two pieces. This is an expression of Binah, whose function is breaking ideas down into fine details. The left brain. The larger of the two pieces is broken into five smaller pieces before it is hidden away as the afikoman. These five pieces represent the five levels of Gevurah, constriction, another ‘left-column’ sefirah, which is just below Binah on the Tree of Life.

The letter Hei
In terms of the sefiros, Binah is represented in the letter Hei, the fifth letter, and a letter that is comprised of two parts, [a right vertical line connected to a horizontal line above, and a left suspended line to the left] thus the middle Matzah is broken into two, and then further into five.

The top matzah is consumed together with the remaining piece of the middle matzah, in fulfillment of the mitzvah of ‘eating matzah’. Fulfilling a mitzvah is a manifestation of Chochmah, a higher intuition or faith in what is above and beyond us. Being that the top Matzah is connected with the letter Yud, a simple one point, the matzah is not broken.

In general, the numerical value of the word matzah is 135, which is the same as the combined values of the Divine names AV [72] and SaG [63]. Av is associated with the sefirah of Chochmah, and SaG is associated with the sefirah of Binah.

Three and Four
Now we have an understanding of why we use three matzos. Another question arises: why should there be three matzos when the main numerical theme of the Hagadah is ‘four’? What is the inner reason for three matzos but four cups of wine, and how can this inspire our Seder?

Our sages tell us [Shabbos, 104a] that the letters Gimmel and Dalet mean Gomel Dalim. The letter Gimel [in Hebrew, the number three] means gomel - ‘giver’ - and the letter Dalet [the number four] means dalim - ‘poor people’, i.e. recipients of the ‘giver’. Thus the relationship between three and four is one of giving and receiving.

This relationship can be understood through the following analogy. One person, ‘the giver’, is considering how to communicate a subtle spiritual insight to another person, ‘the receiver’. Before communication occurs, the insight has three metaphorical dimensions within the mind of the giver: omek or ‘depth’, orech or ‘length’, and rochev or ‘breadth’. ‘Depth’ refers to the giver’s understanding of deeper meaning of the insight. ‘Length’ refers to the giver’s ability to articulate the insight, taking it out of abstraction and giving it an understandable form. ‘Broadening’ means the giver’s ability to develop practical implications of the insight.

The receiver is ‘poor’ in terms of these three dimensions. However, when the giver finally communicates the insight, a fourth dimension is added to the three: relationship with the receiver. Thus, when ‘three’ is received, it becomes ‘four’. The giver’s insight now expands vertically and horizontally within the vessel of the receiver’s mind, and there is a unity between giver and receiver.

Our Redemption
In terms of our Exodus from Egypt, Hashem is the ‘giver’ and we, the redeemed ones, are the ‘receivers’. Eventually we reach a unity with Hashem, but first a relationship must be developed. In the beginning, as slaves, we are dependent, immature, and unable to receive. During the journey of redemption, we become ready to have a genuine relationship with our Redeemer.

We drink four cups of wine to represent the four expressions the Torah uses in reference to the Exodus: “I will take you out,” “I will save you,” “I will redeem you,” and “I will take you to Me.” The first three expressions are like the three dimensions of insight within the giver, and they imply ‘poverty’ on the part of the receiver, for there is not yet an active receptivity or relationship. The fourth term, “…take you to Me” implies a genuine relationship, a unity between the giver and the receiver. This is when communication finally occurs.

In the expression “I will take you to Me,” the term ‘take’, l’kicha, alludes to the ‘taking’ of a marriage partner.[Kidushin, 2a]  Hashem takes us to Himself in marriage when we reach Mount Sinai.  Prior to this, we are still eating the bread of poverty, working on our freedom, and opening ourselves. Under the Divine wedding canopy, we sip the wine of Hashem’s Torah, and we receive the full depth, length and breadth of His insight. In Hashem’s embrace, we transcend intellect, and we are fully redeemed.

In Summary
The three matzos, as the ‘bread of poverty’, are flat and relatively tasteless—representing the receiver in an empty, passive, open state. Therefore, the first three expressions of redemption, in which the receiver is passive, correspond to the three matzos. They also correspond to the three levels of intellect, Chochma, Binah and Da’as, before they are touched and ignited by Divine love.

Wine, in contrast to matzah, is full of taste, color and passion, representing the receiver engaged in a loving relationship. The four cups of wine thus represent the fourth expression of redemption, when we, the receivers, are mature enough to enter into intimate communication with Hashem. When our three intellectual sefiros are then ignited, we transcend intellect. We unite ‘three’ and ‘four’. This is the end goal of our redemption, and these are the energies we activate at the Seder, as we eat the three matzos and drink the four cups of wine.

With blessings for a redemptive Pesach
Rav DovBer Pinson

Source: THE IYYUN HAGGADAH - A Haggadah Companion

In this beautifully written companion to Passover and the Haggadah, Rav DovBer Pinson guides us through the major themes of Passover and the Seder night.

What is the big deal of Chametz vs. Matzah?
What are we trying to achieve through conducting a Seder?
What are the 15 steps of the Seder towards freedom?
What's with all that stuff on the Seder Plate, what do they represent?
The Four Cups of Wine and the Four Stages of Freedom
And most importantly, how is this all related to freedom?

Thursday, April 14, 2016

Moshiach the Leper?

by Rabbi Y. Y. Jacobson 


The Story of the Four Lepers In Our Own Lives 


The seventh chapter of Kings II (it is read as the Haftorah of the portions of Tazria-Metzora, related to the theme of those two portions), tells a fascinating story, about the “four lepers.”

The story takes place during the First Temple era, when the Syrian Army swept down on the Northern Kingdom of Israel and laid siege to the city of Samaria (Shomron). (Siege was the ultimate strategy in ancient warfare, comparable to a present day naval blockade. If an invading force could not penetrate the city walls, the enemy would encamp around the walls of the city, cutting off all supplies, especially food and water, and wait until the inhabitants were starved and forced to surrender.)

The city of Samaria was under siege by the Syrian army. The hunger was devastating. “A donkey’s head was being sold for food for eighty pieces of silver, and a cup of dove’s dung was a meal sold for five pieces of silver.” [Kings II 6:25]

The famine was so horrendous, people were resorting to cannibalism. One day the king of Israel, Jehoram (Yehoram), was walking along the inner walls of the city when a woman called to him, saying: "Your majesty, please help me." The king answered, "What is the matter?" The woman said, "My neighbor came to me, and said, 'Come, let us eat your [dead] son today, and then tomorrow we will eat my [dead] son.' So we cooked my son, and ate him. But then the next day when I said to her, 'Now let us eat your [dead] son.' But she refused, and has hidden her son from me [in order to have him for herself].”[1]

Jehoram, the king, was a fickle man. He blamed the great Jewish prophet of the time, Elisha (the disciple of Elijah the prophet), for his troubles, and had issued an edict of death against him. Jehoram even followed his soldier to Elisha’s quarters, to observe the arrest and execution. But instead of killing him, the king was confronted with a prophecy from Elisha declaring that G-d would provide deliverance for Israel the very next day.

"Then Elisha said, ‘Hear the word of the Lord. Thus says the Lord: ‘Tomorrow about this time a seah (a particular weight measure) of fine flour shall be sold for a shekel (a small currency), and two seahs of barley for a shekel, at the gate of Samaria.’’

"So an officer on whose hand the king leaned answered the man of G-d and said, ‘Look, even if the Lord would make windows in heaven [for rain to come down], could this thing be?’ And Elisha said, ‘In fact, you shall see it with your eyes, but you shall not eat of it.’" [2 Kings 7:1-2].

The Four Lepers

It is at this point where the narrative shifts from what’s happening inside the city walls to a scene outside the city walls—and this is where the haftorah of Tazria-Metzora begins—where four lepers are both starving and quarantined, because they are lepers and all lepers were quarantined outside of the city.

"Now there were four leprous men at the entrance of the gate; and they said to one another, ‘Why are we sitting here until we die? If we say, ‘We will enter the city,’ the famine is in the city, and we shall die there. And if we sit here, we die also. Now therefore, come, let us surrender to the army of the Syrians. If they keep us alive, we shall live; and if they kill us, we shall only die.’" [2 Kings 7:3-4]

They had at that point three options: 1) They could march back to the city that quarantined them in the first place, and try to get in. But what would be the point? There wasn’t any food inside the city. 2) They could march forward where the Syrian Army was encamped. The Syrians had plenty of food. But if the lepers did that, they might be killed on sight, because they were both lepers and from the enemy. 3) They could just sit there outside the walls of the city, and die from starvation without complication.

It was out of this deep distress that they said to each other: "Why just sit here until we die?"

The four lepers chose to get up and march directly to the camp of the Syrian army. In the evening hours, they marched toward the Syrian camp.

The Escape

It was then that something extraordinary occurred.

The Syrian troops imagined that they heard the noise of chariots, the sound of pounding of hundreds of horses' hooves. They were convinced they could hear the clashing of thousands of swords, the vanguard of an enemy army on the offensive. The Syrian army panicked and abandoned their camp, leaving their tents, armor, horses, and chariots, and all their food behind. In their perception, the Jews hired the Egyptian and Hittite armies to attack them. They fled for their lives.

[This miracle reminds us of what occurred on our own watch in June 1967 during the Six Day War. When it became clear that the Arabs were going to lose, and lose miserably, President Nasser of Egypt and King Hussein of Jordan concocted a story about the Americans and British entering the war on Israel's side. The demoralized Egyptians soldiers left mountains of shoes in the desert so as to run faster. They couldn't outrun Israeli tanks and so many were captured that the Israelis did not have where to place them].

A Loaded Camp

“And the lepers came to the edge of the camp, and they entered one tent, and they ate and they drank, and they carried off silver and gold and garments and they hid them; then they returned and entered another tent, and they carried items from there also and went and hid them.” (Kings II 7:8)

But then they experience a change of heart: “And they said to each other, ‘We are not acting properly. Today is a day of good news, and we are being quiet about it. If we wait till morning light, then we will have sinned. Now therefore, let us go and tell what we have learned at the King’s household.” [7:9]

The Good News

The lepers notified the guard at the gate of the city about the news. The gatekeeper had a hard time convincing the king that the Syrians had actually left and were not planning an ambush, but after sending some of his soldiers first, news came back to the monarch that indeed the Syrians had left behind all their belongings and enormous quantities of food.

There was a mad rush. The people ran out of the city to fetch the food of the Syrians. The prophecy of Elisha was fulfilled: A seah of wheat flower and two seah of barely were sold for a minimal shekel.

The king's right hand man, who had mocked Elisha the day before when the prophet foretold a miraculous deliverance, was assigned to patrol the gates and was trampled to death by the people who were rushing out to buy food at low prices. Elisha’s words to him, “you will see it but not eat it,” came to fruition. "Now the king had appointed the officer on whose hand he leaned to take charge of the gate. But the people trampled him in the gate, and he died, just as the man of G-d had said.” [2 Kings 7:17-18]

Do Something

Like all biblical stories, this one too contains many insights and lessons. Let’s focus on three.

Sometimes we feel stuck in life. We find ourselves between a rock and a hard ball. All options seem bleak. The worst thing to do in such a situation is to remain in one place. You must stand up and move. You must make a change; do something. Anything. But move forward. Even though you think you are subjecting yourself to further disaster, just making that move can transform your reality and you may discover an unexpected result that can alter your entire situation.

Sometimes you feel stuck in your business, in your marriage, in your personal psychological condition, or in any other paralyzing situation in life. The worst thing you can do is remain in one place and wait to wither away. Move! Reach out and speak to another person. Change your schedule. Start doing something new and different in your life. Open yourself up to new types of projects, peoples and experiences. Shock your system. Start biking; go to the gym; join a class, a group, become part of a project. Open yourself up to someone and share that which shames you most. Start learning Torah. Whatever you choose—but ensure it is something new and different. When we change our familiar patterns we open new pathways in our brains, and we generate new energy around us—and that can create opportunities unimaginable before.

Fear Not Opposition

There is another vital message here. Often we are afraid to initiate new projects, to undertake new ventures, to ask someone for assistance, since we are scared of what the response might be. If we march ahead, we might experience rejection, and that never feels good. If you are by nature soft and sensitive, getting a “no,” feels devastating. Some people never live out their dreams because they are too afraid of the feedback.

The lepers imagined that an entire Syrian army would be waiting for them to attack. Yet when they moved ahead, they realized there was nobody there.

When you are doing the right thing, when you are doing G-d’s work, do not worry that much about the perception of others and how they will respond. You march ahead and you might discover that there is no opposition.

A wise man (Reb Gershon of Zhlabin) once said to me: What is the difference between a 20-year old, a 40-year old and a 60-year old? The 20-year old is self-conscious about his place in the world. He is concerned to make a good impression, to be perceived as an awesome young man. He is very sensitive to how people view him. The 40-year old declares: “I do not care what people think of me. I could not care less how others look at me. I must be true to myself. You like me—good! You don’t like me, that’s fine too.” The 60-year old realizes that no one was ever looking at him.

Redemption from the Lepers

Finally, there is another profound message in this narrative.

The disease of leprosy was the quintessential malady of ancient times. Lepers were the outcasts of society. They were quarantined, isolated, and rejected. They lived alone in the outskirts of the city, separate from the rest of civilization. Yet the Book of Leviticus dedicates two complete portions to them—to their symptoms, their fate, their healing process and their return to society. Why?

The answer is in the story of the four lepers. We each have a leper within—that dimension of ourselves which makes us feel isolated, ugly and unworthy. The extraordinary message of this story is that sometimes the news about salvation comes from the four lepers outside the city. If we ignore the lepers around us, we deprive ourselves of our own redemption. And if we ignore the leper within ourselves, we deny ourselves our own liberation.

It is precisely the aspects of your personality which you are most ashamed of that may provide you with the most penetrating insights into your life and mission, if you only have the courage to expose it and dig deep into it. If you work with those parts of yourself, if you stare them in the eyes, if you acknowledge them with full honesty and vulnerability, if you share them with others you trust, you may discover how they constitute a spring board for your own moral, emotional and spiritual growth. The “leper” within you might set you free.

Moshiach the Leper

Which may be one way of explaining the perplexing Talmudic statement: “What is the name of Moshiach? The leper!”[2] Why would the Messiah be gives this title?

Because that which shames you most may hold the key to your redemption, if you will only muster the courage to embrace it and see it in its most pristine and pure state. What you have been running away from most, what you have tried to quarantine, what you are so deeply ashamed of, carries your deepest light. You need only trace it back to its authentic nature and origin, and then you will discover how this very “leper” is your Moshiach, your prophet and messenger of psychological and spiritual emancipation.

That is why the name given to Moshiach is the “metzorah,” the “leper.” How will Moshiach heal such an insane world (a “meshugene velt?”) He will show that the healing energy was always there. We were just misreading the map—the map of ourselves and of others.

The late Jewish philanthropist Irving Stone spent a lifetime studying greatness, writing novelized biographies of such men as Michelangelo, Vincent van Gogh, Sigmund Freud, and others. Stone was once asked if he had found a thread that runs through the lives of all these exceptional people. He said, "I write about people who sometime in their life have a vision or dream of something that should be accomplished and they go to work. They are beaten over the head, knocked down, vilified, and for years they get nowhere. But every time they're knocked down, they stand up. You cannot destroy these people. And at the end of their lives they've accomplished some modest part of what they set out to do."[3]

Footnotes:

[1] This is the interpretation of Rashi 6:29. Others explain it differently (see Radak and Ralbag).

[2] Sanhedrin 98b

[3] This essay is partially based on Likkutei Sichos vol. 22 Tazria-Metzorah. Vol. 37 Metzora. Sefer Hasichos 5751 Tzaria-Metzorah.

Source: Yeshiva.net

Tuesday, April 12, 2016

Two Birds




Then the kohen shall order, and the person to be cleansed shall take two live, clean birds, a cedar stick, a strip of crimson [wool], and hyssop. [Metzora 14:4]

Rashi explains that since tzara'as comes about because of lashon hara, the person being purified must bring two birds, for birds ''constantly twitter with chirping sounds''.

The Talmud Yerushalmi [Berachos 1:2] cites the words of R' Shimon bar Yochai:  ''If I would have been standing on Har Sinai at the time the Torah was given to the Jewish people, I would have requested before Hashem that He create two mouths for man.  One mouth would be for the purpose of toiling in Torah study, and the second would be for the purpose of allowing him to speak about his ordinary needs.''

Later, R' Shimon bar Yochai changed his mind, and he said:  ''If the world cannot withstand man's slander when he has only one mouth, how much more so would this be the case if he had two mouths.''

Source: Rabbi Yisrael Bronstein

Monday, April 11, 2016