“כי תצא למלחמה על אויביך”

 “When you go out to war against your enemy ….”

War – it is something we try our best to avoid, yet, we know it to be a reality of our national existence. We understand the difficult truth that national survival often entails difficult battles. Yet, the Torah also understands that not everyone is fit for battle. As the Jewish army prepares to meet its enemy, the Kohen stands before the assembled troops and announces those who are exempt and ordered to return home.

“And the officers shall speak to the people, saying, what man is there who has built a new house and has not [yet] inaugurated it? Let him go and return to his house, lest he die in the war, and another man inaugurate it. And what man is there who has planted a vineyard, and has not [yet] redeemed it? Let him go and return to his house, lest he die in the war, and another man redeem it. And what man is there who has betrothed a woman and has not [yet] taken her? Let him go and return to his house, lest he die in the war, and another man take her (Devorim 20:5-7).”

What is the common denominator between these exempted individuals? Each of these men will be focused on something other than the battle. For the soldier to be effective he must think of nothing other than subduing the enemy. If his thoughts are diverted to home, family, or if he longs to enjoy the literal fruits of his labor – he becomes a liability and puts his fellow soldiers in danger. The Kohen orders these individuals to leave the front and serve the war effort from home.

However, there is one additional exemption that is particularly intriguing; “And the officers shall continue to speak to the people and say, “What man is there who is fearful and fainthearted? Let him go and return to his house, that he should not cause the heart of his brothers to melt, as his heart (Devorim 20:8).”

The Talmud (Sotah 44a) quotes two opinions as to the meaning of “fearful and fainthearted.” Rabbi Akiva explains that it literally refers to one who is scared of the “drawn sword” – this individual is simply too scared to fight. Rabbi Yossi HaGlili explains that it refers to someone who is fearful of the sins he has committed. The solider is concerned that as a result of his sinful behavior, he may not deserve spiritual protection during battle. What types of sin are we discussing? The Talmud Bavli (Babylonian Talmud) answers that we are referring to one who speaks between putting on the Tefillin of the arm and the Tefillin of the head. Such an individual has committed a sin that excuses him from going to battle. The Talmud Yerushalmi (Jerusalem Talmud) explains that it refers to one who speaks between Yishtabach (the concluding blessing of Psukei D’Zimra, introductory psalms in the morning service) and Yotzer Or (the opening blessing of the blessings of Shema). An individual who spoke during these prohibited times during prayer would not go to battle.

How are we to understand these two views? Although neither of these behaviors is “praiseworthy,” they hardly seem to represent the type of sinful behavior for which one would worry about losing Divine protection during battle.

Rav Gershon Stern (1861-1936) in his sefer Yalkut Gershuni explains that there are two components to waging a successful war; skilled officers to plan strategy and brave soldiers who are physically capable of executing the commands. If everyone is an officer then there may be detailed plans and incredible strategy, but there is no one to carry out the orders. However, if everyone is a soldier, there will be a flurry of chaotic activity but no strategic framework. The synergistic relationship and partnership between leadership and the men on the ground is required in order to be successful.

It is the same in life. We have ideas, ideals, beliefs, and values. We each possess a particular life hashkafa (outlook) and have a picture in our mind’s eye as to how these values should inform the way we live. However, sometimes there is a disconnect between what I believe and know and what I do and perform. Our most important life task is to make sure that what we believe is clearly mirrored in how we live. Values and beliefs are hollow if they are not expressed in the way one behaves and conducts oneself.

This idea is symbolized in the Tefillin. The Shel Yad (Tefillin of the arm) represents action, while the Shel Rosh (Tefillin of the head) represents thought. If a person speaks between putting on the Shel Yad and the Shel Rosh, he is interrupting the connection between belief and action.

In the same vein, the blessing of Yishtabach is a beautiful praise to God, in which we recognize the multi-faceted dimensions of God’s splendor in the world. Following this blessing we recite “Yotzer or u’borei choshech, He who fashions light and creates darkness,” which discusses the fact that God created the world and has given us a mandate to build beautiful and meaningful lives. If we sing God’s praises but fail to build a life where He is a dominant fixture, then our praise is empty.

Both the Talmud Bavli and Yerushalmi are echoing the same sentiment. God accepts the fact that we have and will sin. He understands that we are frail and subject to temptation, and as a result, He does not ask us to be perfect. What God does ask is for us to demonstrate sincerity; if we “believe” in something, we must be ready to act on it as well. If we commit ourselves to a certain set of values and ideals, we must make sure that we are ready to live them. We must make sure that our beliefs inform the way we live and are apparent in the actions in which we engage.

If there is a disconnect between what I believe and what I do, God asks me not to fight His battles. It is only those who do not speak between the Shel Yad and the Shel Rosh, only those who do not converse between Yishtabach and Yotzer, who have earned the right to defend the honor of God.

This message resonates with acute importance during this month of introspection. As we continue to take a spiritual accounting of what we have accomplished and in which areas we must improve, we must take the time to analyze and review our beliefs. What do I stand for? What do I believe in? What is important to me? What are my priorities? After answering these questions, we must make sure that these answers are not just contained in the words we use, but must also be apparent in the things we do and the lives we lead. (Reprinted from 5778)

“When you reap your harvest in your field and forget a sheaf in the field, you shall not go back to take it; it shall be [left] for the stranger, the orphan, and the widow, so that the Lord, your God, will bless you in all that you do.” (Devorim 25:19)

The harvest season was a joyous one for the farmer. Months of hard labor, weeks of uncertainty had finally yielded a beautiful bounty. It is in this very moment of harvest that God commands the farmer that if he inadvertently leaves behind some harvested grain, he must leave it for the poor. If the farmer complies, he is promised beautiful blessing from God. This became known as the mitzvah of shichicha (forgetfulness).

Rashi comments:

God will bless you – Although [the forgotten sheaf came into his hand without intention [of the owner]. How much more so [will one be blessed] if he did it deliberately! Hence, you must say that if someone dropped a sela, and a poor man found it and was sustained by it, then he [who lost the coin] will be blessed on its account. — [Sifrei 24:149]

Rashi was bothered by the idea that blessing would come on account of an unintentional act. After all, the farmer did not intend to give anything to the pauper. He would have preferred to prevent the sheaf from falling and being left behind. Yet, despite this “inadvertent mitzvah”, he receives blessing and reward from God. Why should the farmer be rewarded for this inadvertent act? A mitzvah is meaningful when it stems from a desire to serve God, infuse light into the world, and create purposeful change. The farmer forgot a sheaf of wheat. Why should this be counted as a mitzvah for which one receives reward?

The Ibn Ezra (Avraham ben Meir Ibn Ezra, 1089-1167) explains that nothing happens by accident. When the farmer leaves behind a sheaf of wheat, it stems from a subconscious desire to be charitable and provide for the poor. On a conscious level, the farmer wants to take in every last stalk, while on a subconscious level, he wants to share with his impoverished brothers and sisters. The mitzvah of shichicha shows us that on a subconscious level we want to do good. There are times in life when we are not conscious of what we want to do or who we want to become. Holiness is part of our core and the very fabric of our persona. This personalistic holiness presents itself in so many ways, including the things we forget in the field.

This idea is profound as it highlights a fundamental belief – at our core, we are holy and good. We do not believe that man is inherently evil and must overcome his innate darkness in order to become holy. We believe that man is inherently good, kind, charitable, and holy. God rewards for our inadvertent mitzvos as they highlight the holy subconscious we each possess.

As we progress through the month Elul and take stock of what we have and have not done, we sometimes feel depressed over our mistakes and missteps. We think that our mistakes have compromised our inner purity and have rendered us broken and at times, irreparable. The mitzvah of shichicha reminds me that no matter what I have done or how many mistakes I have made, holiness is part of my core.  At times, my personal holiness may not be apparent on the conscious, visible level, but it is always present beneath the surface, just waiting to come out and illuminate the world.

“You shall set up judges and law enforcement officials for yourself in all your cities that the Lord, your God, is giving you, for your tribes, and they shall judge the people [with] righteous judgment.” (Devorim 16:18)

The beauty of our Torah lies in its ability to convey profound, life-enhancing messages in a nuanced and gentle manner. Moshe instructs us to set up judicial systems in each of our communities. The judges must be just, pious, and upright and dedicate themselves to upholding the rule of law. They may not give preferential treatment to one litigant over the other, and their conduct, both in and out of the court, must be beyond reproach. They must overcome their fear of the powerful and not instinctively side with the poor. Their ultimate allegiance is to God, the Torah, and the creation and preservation of a just society.

The great Chassidic master, Rav Levi Yitzchak of Berditchev (1740-1809), sees an additional, spiritual and interpersonal message in this verse. During this month of Elul, we prepare for the upcoming Days of Judgement, Yimei HaDin. We ask God for mercy and compassion. We ask our Father to look at us through the Divine lens of Rachamim (compassion) and not through the prism of Din (justice). How do we “convince” God to make this shift? After all, if I have done something wrong, if I have committed some relationship trespass against God, what right do I have to ask for the mercy? If I have committed the “crime”, am I am not deserving of the punishment?

The Rebbe explains that our actions in this world impact and inform the way God acts towards us. The Baal Shem Tov explains that God is like our shadow (Hashem Tzilcha –Psalms 121:5); meaning just as my shadow mimics my every move, so too, God’s reaction towards me is a reflection of my actions towards others. Thus, if we want Divine compassion and mercy, we must extend those very traits and behaviors towards others. If I want God to give me the benefit of the doubt, I must extend that same courtesy to another. If I want God to see beyond my faults and shortcomings, I must strive to do this for those around me. If I want God to bestow blessing upon me, I must go out of my way to bestow upon others. If I want God to help me in difficult times, I must be ready to roll up my sleeves and help another in his time of need.

This is the meaning of the above-mentioned verse. “Shoftim V’Shotrim Titen Lecha B’chol She’arecha, (you shall set up judges and law enforcement officials for yourself in your cities)” – I have the ability to influence Divine judgment through the judgements I make within my own city, within my own world. “V’shaftu Es Ha’am Mishpat Tzedek, (you shall judge the people righteously)” – If I judge the other with compassion, if I judge the other with mercy, if I give the other the benefit of the doubt – I will bring down Divine compassion from above.

It is during this sacred month that we must prepare ourselves to give an accounting of the past year and to ask for another year in which we can accomplish and be productive. We all need a bit of Divine compassion, Rachamim to help us through this process. We learn from this opening verse that the best way to convince God to take care of us is to take care of one another. If we shower compassion, mercy, and love upon one another; if we are a bit less critical of one another; we will be privileged to receive a generous dose of Rachamim from our Father above.

Let us learn this lesson, let us live this lesson, and in its merit, may we all be inscribed in the Book of Life.

“When you build a new house, you shall make a fence (guard-rail) for your roof, so that you shall not cause blood to be spilled in your house, that the one who falls should fall from it [the roof].” (Devorim 22:8)

We must learn to be vigilant. We must take great care to avoid harming or injuring a fellow Jew. We must even make sure that my property doesn’t pose a risk to the other. In Biblical times, roofs were often flat (as they were used to dry produce and for other related activities of daily living) and therefore, fences had to be constructed around one’s roof to ensure that no one would fall. On the most basic level, the Torah is instilling within us a heightened sensitivity for the other. We can’t harm with our words, our fists or our roof; we must be ever cognizant and aware of the safety and security of the other.

The Lubavitcher Rebbe (Rabbi Menachem Mendel Schneerson 1902-1994) explains this verse as a metaphoric message:

“Ki sivneh bayis chadash, (when you build a new house)” – The home represents a new life initiative. When you embark upon something new …

“V’asisa maakeh l’gagecha, (you shall make a fence for your roof)” – You must set boundaries.  Just as the fence is the boundary for the roof, we must learn to make boundaries in life.

Life is filled with much new construction. We build new relationships and careers. We start new journeys and explore new possibilities. Whenever we start something new, we must learn to establish appropriate boundaries and erect the necessary fences. Our careers may thrust us into a world that does not share our values and ideals. The demands and expectations of the work force may put us in situations of spiritual and moral discomfort. What fences must be created to ensure that we don’t lose our spiritual identities while climbing the ladder of success? What can we each do to protect our personal holiness even while spending our days in environments which may not be conducive to personal growth?

Marriage requires a great deal of effort and attention. At times we take liberties with the dignity, honor or feelings of a beloved spouse. At times we do things which are hurtful, insensitive and demeaning. What fences do we need to create in our marriages to ensure that we are each behaving as a proper spouse, nurturing marital love and growth.

On a personal level, we are often bombarded by temptation and desire. What fences should we create for ourselves to ensure that we continue down the path of growth and not fall into the abyss of personalistic darkness?

In life, we are constantly embarking on new construction. We construct homes of careers, marriages and develop ourselves. Each of these beautiful homes require a fence.  It is the fences of self-discipline, moral clarity, spiritual motivation and desire for growth which ensure that which we build will be beautiful, fulfilling and safe for ourselves and for those whom we love.

“כי תצא למלחמה על אויביך”
“When you go out to war against your enemy ….”

War – it is something we try our best to avoid yet, we know it to be a reality of our national existence. We understand the difficult truth that national survival often entails difficult battles. Still, the Torah also understands that not everyone is fit for battle. As the Jewish army prepares to meet its enemy, the Kohen stands before the assembled troops and announces those who are exempt and ordered to return home.

“And the officers shall speak to the people, saying, what man is there who has built a new house and has not [yet] inaugurated it? Let him go and return to his house, lest he die in the war, and another man inaugurate it. And what man is there who has planted a vineyard, and has not [yet] redeemed it? Let him go and return to his house, lest he die in the war, and another man redeem it. And what man is there who has betrothed a woman and has not [yet] taken her? Let him go and return to his house, lest he die in the war, and another man take her.” (Devorim 20:5-7)

What is the common denominator between these exempted individuals? Each of these men will be focused on something other than the battle. For the soldier to be effective he must think of nothing other than subduing the enemy. If his thoughts are diverted to home or family, or if he longs to enjoy the literal fruits of his labor, he becomes a liability and puts his fellow soldiers in danger. The Kohen orders these individuals to leave the front and serve the war effort from home.

However, there is one additional exemption that is particularly intriguing; “And the officers shall continue to speak to the people and say, “What man is there who is fearful and fainthearted? Let him go and return to his house, that he should not cause the heart of his brothers to melt, as his hear.” (Devorim 20:8)

The Talmud (Sotah 44a) quotes two opinions as to the meaning of “fearful and fainthearted.” Rabbi Akiva explains that it literally refers to one who is scared of the “drawn sword.” This individual is simply too scared to fight. Rabbi Yossi HaGlili explains that it refers to someone who is fearful of the sins he has committed. The solider is concerned that as a result of his sinful behavior he may not deserve spiritual protection during battle. What types of sin are we discussing? The Talmud Bavli (Babylonian Talmud) answers that we are referring to one who speaks between putting on the Tefillin of the arm and the Tefillin of the head. Such an individual has committed a sin that excuses him from going to battle. The Talmud Yerushalmi (Jerusalem Talmud) explains that it refers to one who speaks between Yishtabach, the concluding blessing of Psukei D’Zimra, (introductory psalms in the morning service) and Yotzer Or, the opening blessing of the blessings of Shema. An individual who spoke during these prohibited times during prayer would not go to battle.

How are we to understand these two views? Although neither of these behaviors is praiseworthy they hardly seem to represent the type of sinful behavior for which one would worry about losing Divine protection during battle.

Rav Gershon Stern (1861-1936) in his sefer Yalkut Gershuni explains that there are two components to waging a successful war: skilled officers to plan strategy and brave soldiers who are physically capable of executing the commands. If everyone is an officer then there may be detailed plans and incredible strategy but there is no one to carry out the orders. However, if everyone is a soldier there will be a flurry of chaotic activity but no strategic framework. The synergistic relationship and partnership between leadership and the men on the ground is required in order to be successful.

It is the same in life. We each possess a particular life hashkafa (outlook) and have a picture in our mind’s eye as to how these values should inform the way we live. However, sometimes there is a disconnect between what we believe and what we do. Our most important task is to make sure that what we believe is clearly mirrored in how we live. Values and beliefs are hollow if they are not expressed in the way one behaves, and conducts oneself.

This idea is symbolized in the Tefillin. The Shel Yad (Tefillin of the arm) represents action, while the Shel Rosh (Tefillin of the head) represents thought. If a person speaks between putting on the Shel Yad and the Shel Rosh, he is interrupting the connection between belief and action.

In the same vein, the blessing of Yishtabach is a beautiful praise to God, in which we recognize the multi-faceted dimensions of God’s splendor in the world. Following this blessing we recite “Yotzer or u’borei choshech, He who fashions light and creates darkness”, which discusses the fact that God created the world and has given us a mandate to build beautiful and meaningful lives. If we sing God’s praises but fail to build a life where He is a dominant fixture, then our praise is empty.

Both the Talmud Bavli and Yerushalmi are echoing the same sentiment. God accepts the fact that we have and will sin. He understands that we are frail and subject to temptation and as a result He does not ask us to be perfect. What God does ask is for us to demonstrate sincerity. If we “believe” in something we must be ready to act on it as well. If we commit ourselves to a certain set of values and ideals we must make sure that we are ready to live them.

If there is a disconnect between what we believe and what we do, God asks us not to fight His battles. It is only those who do not speak between the Shel Yad and the Shel Rosh, only those who do not converse between Yishtabach and Yotzer who have earned the right to defend the honor of God.

This message resonates with acute importance during this month of introspection. As we continue to take a spiritual accounting of what we have accomplished and in which areas we must improve, we must take the time to analyze and review our beliefs. What do we each stand for? What is important to us? What are our priorities? After answering these questions, we must make sure that these answers are not just contained in the words we use but must also be apparent in the things we do and the lives we lead.