Sefer Bereishit
This is a beautiful parsha. It’s the beginning. It’s a time for us all to start afresh, or at least, to be faced with the opportunity – the choice – to start afresh. We are told: “And G-d called to Adam and said to him – Ayeka – where are you?” G-d will always call to us as He has been doing from time immemorial, from Adam, the first man. The question strongly asserts to us that we cannot hide from Hashem, nor can we hide from ourselves. In layman’s terms this means that we have to eat, live and dream through truth.
To me, the message here is also practical. “Where are you?” is not just a spiritual voice, but a physical one too. Both are equally important. To develop spiritually is indeed important, but it is essential to also be present, to be there physically. This is true in all areas of life. If one keeps talking about how much they want to be with someone – their partner, child, colleague – but in reality they never are, then they are not “there,” at all. One has to make the commitment both spiritually and physically to really be in the moment. It is precisely that which Hashem requires of us, from the beginning, from the first moment, the first man, and exactly this which we are given a renewed opportunity to achieve each year through parshat Bereishit and indeed each moment we ask ourselves this question Hashem posed to Adam all these years ago.
To me, the message here is also practical. “Where are you?” is not just a spiritual voice, but a physical one too. Both are equally important. To develop spiritually is indeed important, but it is essential to also be present, to be there physically. This is true in all areas of life. If one keeps talking about how much they want to be with someone – their partner, child, colleague – but in reality they never are, then they are not “there,” at all. One has to make the commitment both spiritually and physically to really be in the moment. It is precisely that which Hashem requires of us, from the beginning, from the first moment, the first man, and exactly this which we are given a renewed opportunity to achieve each year through parshat Bereishit and indeed each moment we ask ourselves this question Hashem posed to Adam all these years ago.
In this parsha we read about the Covenant between G-d and us (as symbolized by the rainbow). Through this, we see G-d’s complete commitment to His Word (Covenant). My first thought is how we are meant to emulate G-d so if we can do that by following through our commitment to others then G-d will be proud of us.
As well, we are told: “When the [rain]bow is in the clouds, I will see it and remember the everlasting covenant between G-d and all living creatures, all flesh that is on the earth.” The rainbow is the antithesis of the clouds; it is bright, full of optimism, sitting amongst darkened greyness. This tells us that when things look bleak, we should stop and remember G-d’s promise to us. Even though we are fighting away the darkness and grey, there is always a rainbow. It may be hard for us to see it at times as it is “clouded” by other elements, but it is always there. How do we know that? Because G-d signed a Covenant with us and He will not break His word.
The thing is however, that G-d is waiting for our move. He is waiting for us to get out of the darkened grey and find the rainbow. That is our task of emunah. And more importantly, that is our tikun of repairing the world, slowly, one piece at a time, through the slightly glimmering on-off, oft-illusory, light of the rainbow. No matter how many clouds are surrounding us, G-d made a promise to His people. That promise is symbolized by the rainbow that will be with us in every situation we are faced with, no matter how clouded it sometimes seems to be.
As well, we are told: “When the [rain]bow is in the clouds, I will see it and remember the everlasting covenant between G-d and all living creatures, all flesh that is on the earth.” The rainbow is the antithesis of the clouds; it is bright, full of optimism, sitting amongst darkened greyness. This tells us that when things look bleak, we should stop and remember G-d’s promise to us. Even though we are fighting away the darkness and grey, there is always a rainbow. It may be hard for us to see it at times as it is “clouded” by other elements, but it is always there. How do we know that? Because G-d signed a Covenant with us and He will not break His word.
The thing is however, that G-d is waiting for our move. He is waiting for us to get out of the darkened grey and find the rainbow. That is our task of emunah. And more importantly, that is our tikun of repairing the world, slowly, one piece at a time, through the slightly glimmering on-off, oft-illusory, light of the rainbow. No matter how many clouds are surrounding us, G-d made a promise to His people. That promise is symbolized by the rainbow that will be with us in every situation we are faced with, no matter how clouded it sometimes seems to be.
Avraham is told in this parsha, “Go for yourself, from your land and your birthplace.” G-d does not command him to simply “Go.” He is telling him to go for himself (lecha), for his own good, as ultimately when he reaches all the places he has to go to, he will be made in to a great nation. In other words, it is only in those places that he will be truly fulfilled.
Avraham was incredibly strong and the last person to be accused of being influenced by his society. It was he who told everyone else about the existence of G-d, and that idols were not all-powerful. Still, society can make things immensely difficult and according to Bartenura, even Avraham could be aversely influenced by his surroundings. For that reason he was told to leave his land and his birthplace, (for his own good).
The pasuk doesn’t just say “Go,” but adds from your land and your birthplace.” This is because it is the land (where he was at present) and the birthplace (his roots) that could affect him. He also wasn’t told to ‘go out,’ (the verb ‘latzet’ was not used) but “go,” because ‘going’ suggests more of a journey, rather than just a departure. The language in the Torah is very specific and this entire sentence is no different. Avraham needed to go, to leave his present, to move on from his past and to find a place that would be more appropriate for his particular strengths.
This is a lesson we could all take on board at some points in our lives.
Avraham was incredibly strong and the last person to be accused of being influenced by his society. It was he who told everyone else about the existence of G-d, and that idols were not all-powerful. Still, society can make things immensely difficult and according to Bartenura, even Avraham could be aversely influenced by his surroundings. For that reason he was told to leave his land and his birthplace, (for his own good).
The pasuk doesn’t just say “Go,” but adds from your land and your birthplace.” This is because it is the land (where he was at present) and the birthplace (his roots) that could affect him. He also wasn’t told to ‘go out,’ (the verb ‘latzet’ was not used) but “go,” because ‘going’ suggests more of a journey, rather than just a departure. The language in the Torah is very specific and this entire sentence is no different. Avraham needed to go, to leave his present, to move on from his past and to find a place that would be more appropriate for his particular strengths.
This is a lesson we could all take on board at some points in our lives.
There are so many lessons to be learnt from this parsha but for me, perhaps the most significant one is Avraham’s reaction to G-d on something so trying. He has waited an inordinate amount of time to become a father. It’s something – as any man knows – he yearned for so long. And now his son is grown, he’s being told to sacrifice him. It’s terrible.
But what made Avraham into the man he truly was – and the man we ask G-d to remember when thinking of us, his other children – was the fact that no matter what G-d came up with for him, no matter what challenge lay ahead, no matter how devastating a turn his life might take, Avraham trusted. Avraham believed. Avraham had emunah and Avraham truly understood what it meant to be a G-d fearing man.
“G-d said to him, ‘Avraham’ and he answered ‘Hineni – here I am.’ Again with the idea of how important one’s physical presence is. Here I am. No hesitation. No thinking about it. No calculation or trying to work out what would be best for him. Just yes, I am here, what can I do for you?
We are to emulate G-d indeed. But in this instance, in parshat Vayera, we are being shown how to do that through one of his mortals, through Avraham. When G-d throws something at us, no matter how impossible it may seem (and often is), our task is to immediately respond Hineni – I am here. Sure we may beseech G-d and ask Him to change His will at some point, but ultimately we have to begin and end with Hineni. Because it is only Hineni which is a true testament to our commitment in our relationship.
But what made Avraham into the man he truly was – and the man we ask G-d to remember when thinking of us, his other children – was the fact that no matter what G-d came up with for him, no matter what challenge lay ahead, no matter how devastating a turn his life might take, Avraham trusted. Avraham believed. Avraham had emunah and Avraham truly understood what it meant to be a G-d fearing man.
“G-d said to him, ‘Avraham’ and he answered ‘Hineni – here I am.’ Again with the idea of how important one’s physical presence is. Here I am. No hesitation. No thinking about it. No calculation or trying to work out what would be best for him. Just yes, I am here, what can I do for you?
We are to emulate G-d indeed. But in this instance, in parshat Vayera, we are being shown how to do that through one of his mortals, through Avraham. When G-d throws something at us, no matter how impossible it may seem (and often is), our task is to immediately respond Hineni – I am here. Sure we may beseech G-d and ask Him to change His will at some point, but ultimately we have to begin and end with Hineni. Because it is only Hineni which is a true testament to our commitment in our relationship.
We are told that “Avraham was old, well on in his years and G-d blessed Avraham with everything.” The question asked is why are we told he was old (zaken), if we were already told this in last week’s parsha? According to Bereishit Rabbah it is because after they had Yitzchak they returned to their youth. But now here we are 40 years later again and so he re-entered old age as it were.
We are also told that he had everything (bacol), but he didn’t have a son (ben). Bacol and ben have the same numerical value, so Rashi suggests that the feeling was, without an offspring, everything that he had, was worthless.
But in the same pasuk we are told ba bayamim which could mean coming into age rather than well on in his years. If we look at it like that, then we see that even though Avraham was old and we were told last week that he was old, he had a change of heart, a change of pace and attitude. And maybe, being blessed with a child, at such an ‘old’ age, gave him the strength to come into his age rather than just feel old. Yes, physically he may not have been young, but his mental attitude was that of a youthful man, or a guy just at peace with where he was in the world. Finally now, he had bacol, everything, his ben, his son. And when you yearn for a child that much and wait that many years, no matter how old you are, you don’t feel it as you finally come into your age and feel youthful once more.
We are also told that he had everything (bacol), but he didn’t have a son (ben). Bacol and ben have the same numerical value, so Rashi suggests that the feeling was, without an offspring, everything that he had, was worthless.
But in the same pasuk we are told ba bayamim which could mean coming into age rather than well on in his years. If we look at it like that, then we see that even though Avraham was old and we were told last week that he was old, he had a change of heart, a change of pace and attitude. And maybe, being blessed with a child, at such an ‘old’ age, gave him the strength to come into his age rather than just feel old. Yes, physically he may not have been young, but his mental attitude was that of a youthful man, or a guy just at peace with where he was in the world. Finally now, he had bacol, everything, his ben, his son. And when you yearn for a child that much and wait that many years, no matter how old you are, you don’t feel it as you finally come into your age and feel youthful once more.
Rebecca is pregnant with twins. She has waited over two decades to become pregnant. But it is not an easy pregnancy. The twins are struggling inside of her. She is told by Hashem that this pregnancy marks the beginning of how nations will come to loggerheads in the future: “Two nations are in your womb; and two peoples will be separated from your body; and one people shall be stronger than the other; and the older shall serve the younger.”
What we see of how Esau and Yaacov lived their lives, was that irrespective of being born at the same time and from exactly the same gene pool, they had totally different character traits and approached Hashem completely differently as well. This should come to teach us that we too can approach our Creator differently from our brethren and our friends; our tafkid is only to approach him, and to find out own, unique way of doing it. I’ve always maintained that if we don’t care what’s bothering Rashi, we shouldn’t go to a shiur on it. When I went to Rome with my husband, he was fascinated by the Colosseum; to which I responded, “it just looks like a pile of old rubble to me.” Does that mean we both don’t see the miraculous ways of Hashem and all His creation? No, we just see it differently – completely differently!
While conflict can sometimes seem scary, it is our duty to broach it anyway. We shouldn’t run away from it and we shouldn’t be overwhelmed by it; we just need to accept how Hashem created us and embrace our qualities.
What we see of how Esau and Yaacov lived their lives, was that irrespective of being born at the same time and from exactly the same gene pool, they had totally different character traits and approached Hashem completely differently as well. This should come to teach us that we too can approach our Creator differently from our brethren and our friends; our tafkid is only to approach him, and to find out own, unique way of doing it. I’ve always maintained that if we don’t care what’s bothering Rashi, we shouldn’t go to a shiur on it. When I went to Rome with my husband, he was fascinated by the Colosseum; to which I responded, “it just looks like a pile of old rubble to me.” Does that mean we both don’t see the miraculous ways of Hashem and all His creation? No, we just see it differently – completely differently!
While conflict can sometimes seem scary, it is our duty to broach it anyway. We shouldn’t run away from it and we shouldn’t be overwhelmed by it; we just need to accept how Hashem created us and embrace our qualities.
We learn from this parsha that “Jacob awoke from his sleep and said, ‘Surely Hashem is in this place and I did not know.’” What a revelation. If only we could focus on this when we wake up – to actually wake up, spiritually, look around us (feeling blessed with the gift of sight) and be able to say, G-d is here and I wasn’t aware of it. I kept thinking it was me who was running the world, in charge of things, on top of everything. But finally I woke up from my sleep and I understood exactly who I am and where my place is in this world vis-à-vis G-d.
What’s interesting about the particular language of this pasuk is that the word ‘vayaketz’ is used (to describe Jacob’s awakening) rather than the verb lehitorarer or lakum. Ketz translates as end, destruction, loathe. Awakening (while liberating) can be a painful journey and can often feel loathsome. That is our fear. But Jacob comes to show us here how important and necessary it is. We have to wake up. We have to understand that G-d runs the world. We have to let go and let G-d.
What’s interesting about the particular language of this pasuk is that the word ‘vayaketz’ is used (to describe Jacob’s awakening) rather than the verb lehitorarer or lakum. Ketz translates as end, destruction, loathe. Awakening (while liberating) can be a painful journey and can often feel loathsome. That is our fear. But Jacob comes to show us here how important and necessary it is. We have to wake up. We have to understand that G-d runs the world. We have to let go and let G-d.
Yaacov gets a name change: “No long will it be said that your name is Jacob, but Israel, for you have striven with the Divine and with man and have overcome.” The name means ‘he who has struggled with G-d.’ What’s interesting is that even though Jacob’s name was changed to Israel, it’s not consistently used afterwards and still today, we refer to ‘G-d of Jacob’ in our prayers. We learn in Chassidut that our name is our essence and indicative of our tikun, so when our name changes, perhaps our tikun does too or simply we get a further task in life. Jacob is attacked by his brother and then an angel, being pulled in all different directions. His tikun is thus to make peace first bein adam l’chavero and thereafter bein adam l’makom. Maybe this is why his name Jacob is still used so much even though he has undergone a name change.
It doesn’t really matter what name is used for him; more importantly is how Jacob deals with his tasks in life. What does he do? How does he behave? What is important to him? It is those things that will determine what his real name is; perhaps there is no consistency as he himself shows no consistency in his actions and thus the name reflects that. Sometimes we are mummy; sometimes we are a wife; sometimes we are a friend, but we can choose to be all our roles simultaneously and Jacob is showing us that he had that choice too. This is our challenge; to be every aspect of all our names at all times.
It doesn’t really matter what name is used for him; more importantly is how Jacob deals with his tasks in life. What does he do? How does he behave? What is important to him? It is those things that will determine what his real name is; perhaps there is no consistency as he himself shows no consistency in his actions and thus the name reflects that. Sometimes we are mummy; sometimes we are a wife; sometimes we are a friend, but we can choose to be all our roles simultaneously and Jacob is showing us that he had that choice too. This is our challenge; to be every aspect of all our names at all times.
This parsha is all about dreams, Joseph getting put in prison and interpreting the butler and baker’s dreams, etc. Things haven’t been easy for Joseph and it’s going to be a while until things are good again. But we learn in pasuk 20, 21, that ‘even while Joseph was in prison, G-d was with him.’ What does this mean? We know that G-d is with us at all times; at least, we should know that. But the message here is that no matter what kind of prison we’re in, whether it’s a literal one or a man-made one, a place that we’ve built for ourselves where we’re stuck and we can’t get out, G-d is always with us. Even in the darkest, most scary moments in life, if we can just pause a moment, like Joseph was able to and say, ‘yes, I’m in prison, but G-d is with me,’ then we will never again have to feel imprisoned.
For me, in this parsha we learn real wisdom from Joseph. Yes, he’s the man of dreams, seemingly really powerful and super duper smart, but ultimately he knows who he is, from whence he came and Who is ultimately in control and running the world. And it’s quite ironic because his brothers think he is the ultimate in arrogance, so try to sell him. But actually we see here that he is quite the opposite of that. So here, Joseph says, “Not I, G-d, will see to Pharoah’s welfare.” Even the language is of note because he immediately negates himself before doing anything else. He sees that he is not in charge, but G-d is.
May we learn from Joseph in this week’s portion that we are mere agents of G-d, the one Creator Who is running the world. It is through Him we have talents, and we should be aware of remembering that.
May we learn from Joseph in this week’s portion that we are mere agents of G-d, the one Creator Who is running the world. It is through Him we have talents, and we should be aware of remembering that.
Really, at the heart of Joseph’s desires, lies the biggest one – to make peace within his family. To do that, one first must make peace within themselves. To do that, it is necessary to make peace with all parts of ourselves – forgive ourselves for what happened in the past, how we reacted to both good and bad situations, and forgive those in our past who treated us in ways that weren’t beneficial to us.
Joseph says it simply: “I am your brother, Joseph.” It’s simple. This is who I am. Sure I may be a Viceroy and have status here in Egypt, but at the end of the day you know me as your brother so that is who I am. No matter what you tried to do to me in the past (trying to disown me as a brother), or what I may have done to provoke you, that’s what it is – it’s in the past. Nothing changes the facts: I am your brother. Let’s get rid of all the other stuff, past and present.
Then, as they are leaving, he gives them what seems like simple, child-like advice: “do not quarrel along the way.” Perhaps he was talking to them as brothers (don’t fight amongst each other), or as individuals (don’t fight within yourselves). At the end of the day Joseph is saying, what has happened has happened, and it has past; move on like I have.
The lessons here are clear: to move forward in life we have to accept who we are and where we have come from. Thereafter we can try to teach others to do the same.
This learning was originally conducted in 2009 in the zechut that Golan Moshe Ben Meira have an easy operation and immediate refuah shlayma.
Joseph says it simply: “I am your brother, Joseph.” It’s simple. This is who I am. Sure I may be a Viceroy and have status here in Egypt, but at the end of the day you know me as your brother so that is who I am. No matter what you tried to do to me in the past (trying to disown me as a brother), or what I may have done to provoke you, that’s what it is – it’s in the past. Nothing changes the facts: I am your brother. Let’s get rid of all the other stuff, past and present.
Then, as they are leaving, he gives them what seems like simple, child-like advice: “do not quarrel along the way.” Perhaps he was talking to them as brothers (don’t fight amongst each other), or as individuals (don’t fight within yourselves). At the end of the day Joseph is saying, what has happened has happened, and it has past; move on like I have.
The lessons here are clear: to move forward in life we have to accept who we are and where we have come from. Thereafter we can try to teach others to do the same.
This learning was originally conducted in 2009 in the zechut that Golan Moshe Ben Meira have an easy operation and immediate refuah shlayma.
In this parsha, when blessing his grandsons Efraim and Menasheh Yaaov says: “HaMal’ach HaGo’eil Oti MiKol Ra Yevareich Et HaNe’arim Vikarei Vahem Shemi, VeSheim Avotai Avraham VeYitzchak, Veyidgu LaRov Bekerev HaAretz.” (48:16) “The angel who saves me from all evil should bless the youths and call them my name, and the names of my fathers, Avraham and Yitzchak, and they should increase into a multitude in the midst of the land.”
Yaacov dies in this parsha, the title of which literally means And he lived. He hasn’t had an easy life. He thought he lost a son, his favourite son, things have been tough for him. So how can he say ‘the angel who saves me….’ What did the angel save him from? Despair. No matter what went on in his life, how tough it was (and he certainly doesn’t make any bones complaining about it; when Pharoah asked him how he was doing, he replied, I am 127 years old and the years haven’t been kind to me; life has been tough), he has still remained a believer.
This is perhaps the hugest lesson we can internalize in life. Yes times are tough. Things are rough. But if we maintain our faith and see that we are ultimately protected by a guardian angel, our legacy will be vayechi, and he lived.
Yaacov dies in this parsha, the title of which literally means And he lived. He hasn’t had an easy life. He thought he lost a son, his favourite son, things have been tough for him. So how can he say ‘the angel who saves me….’ What did the angel save him from? Despair. No matter what went on in his life, how tough it was (and he certainly doesn’t make any bones complaining about it; when Pharoah asked him how he was doing, he replied, I am 127 years old and the years haven’t been kind to me; life has been tough), he has still remained a believer.
This is perhaps the hugest lesson we can internalize in life. Yes times are tough. Things are rough. But if we maintain our faith and see that we are ultimately protected by a guardian angel, our legacy will be vayechi, and he lived.