Parsha Perspectives: Finding Forgiveness (Vayikra)
Alexander Pope wrote, “To err is human; to forgive, divine.” From the moment we are first introduced to Adam in the beginning of Genesis, it is clear that man is prone to falling and failing. In this week’s Parsha the Torah begins the lengthy section detailing sacrificial law. There are offerings brought for thanksgiving and celebration, and there are offerings brought for atonement in the aftermath of sin. There are sacrifices for the mistakes of the common man, and there are special sacrificial rites for the sins of the leader.
“If a leader [of Israel] sins and unintentionally commits one of all the commandments of the Lord, which may not be committed, incurring guilt; if his sin that he has committed is made known to him, then he shall bring his offering: an unblemished male goat (Vayikra 4:22).”
In this verse the Torah describes the events that occur if the Nasi, the leader of the Jewish people, inadvertently issues an erroneous halachik ruling (permitting that which is prohibited) and acts upon his own ruling (thereby committing a sin). The verses describe the special sacrificial service to atone for his transgression.
The verse begins with the Hebrew word “Asher,” translated as “if.” In a bit of a play on words, the Talmud (Horiyos 10b) explains: “Rabbi Yochanan ben Zakai said: Praiseworthy (ASHREI) is the generation whose leader brings a sin-offering for his inadvertent transgression.
Rabbi Yochanan ben Zakai teaches us that it can be difficult for one in a leadership position to admit he has done something wrong. The leader may be concerned about his image, about his ability to “lead” in the aftermath of an admission of guilt. And so, praiseworthy is the leader who is able to admit his faults, seek atonement, and attempt to restore his spiritual standing.
But shouldn’t the Talmud have reserved its praise for the leader who has not sinned at all? Shouldn’t Rabbi Yochanan save his “ASHREI” accolade for the leader who does not suffer a spiritual lapse? Such a leader can serve as incredible role model for his constituents and followers. If our leader can remain above temptation, if our leader can avoid the spiritual and physical pitfalls of life – we can as well. Why not laud the Nasi who never suffered the set-back rather than the praising the one who did?
Rav Menachem Dovid of Amshinov (1850-1918) explains that in fact, the reverse is true. A leader who has not suffered personal failure will be unable to forgive the shortcomings of another. A leader who has never tasted the bitterness of personal defeat will not appreciate the struggles of those he must lead. The leader who always succeeds will look at those who do not with a sense of disdain and resentment. Therefore, Rabbi Yochanan ben Zakai says, “Praiseworthy is the generation whose leader has stumbled, for this is a leader who will understand, appreciate, and empathize with the difficulties his flock must face.”
The words of the Amshinover resonate with incredible personal relevance. We all stumble, fall, and suffer set-backs along the journey of life. Each of us (in our own unique way) has tasted the bitterness of defeat and has felt the pain of self-doubt. These experiences must sensitize and allow us to be accepting of the faults and shortcomings of the other. It is precisely because we know how frail we are that we must accept the frailties of those around us. In the aftermath of personal failure, we must learn to forgive ourselves in order to get up, move forward, and make up lost ground. When we see the failures of others, we must forgive, understand, and aid them in getting back up. It is because we know how much we yearn to be forgiven for our transgressions that we must be quick to dispense forgiveness to those who wrong us.
“Praiseworthy is the generation whose members recognize their own failures and are able to forgive and accept the shortcomings of others.”
(Reprinted from 5779)
Parsha Perspectives: Finding Forgiveness (Vayikra)
Alexander Pope wrote, “To err is human; to forgive, divine.” From the moment we are first introduced to Adam in the beginning of Genesis it is clear that man is prone to falling and failing. In this week’s Parsha, the Torah begins the lengthy section detailing sacrificial law. There are offerings brought for thanksgiving and celebration and there are offerings brought for atonement in the aftermath of sin. There are sacrifices for the mistakes of the common man and there are special sacrificial rites for the sins of the leader.
“If a leader [of Israel] sins and unintentionally commits one of all the commandments of the Lord, which may not be committed, incurring guilt; if his sin that he has committed is made known to him, then he shall bring his offering: an unblemished male goat.” (Vayikra 4:22)
In this verse the Torah describes the events that occur if the Nasi, the leader of the Jewish people, inadvertently issues an erroneous halachik ruling (permitting that which is prohibited) and acts upon his own ruling (thereby committing a sin). The verses describe the special sacrificial service to atone for his transgression.
The verse begins with the Hebrew word “Asher,” translated as “if.” In a bit of a play on words, the Talmud (Horiyos 10b) explains: “Rabbi Yochanan ben Zakai said: Praiseworthy (Ashrei) is the generation whose leader brings a sin-offering for his inadvertent transgression.”
Rabbi Yochanan ben Zakai teaches us that it can be difficult for one in a leadership position to admit he has done something wrong. The leader may be concerned about his image, about his ability to “lead” in the aftermath of an admission of guilt. And so, praiseworthy is the leader who can admit his faults, seek atonement and attempt to restore his spiritual standing.
But shouldn’t the Talmud have reserved its praise for the leader who has not sinned at all? Shouldn’t Rabbi Yochanan save his “Ashrei” accolade for the leader who does not suffer a spiritual lapse? Such a leader can serve as incredible role model for his constituents and followers. If our leader can remain above temptation, if our leader can avoid the spiritual and physical pitfalls of life, we can as well. Why not laud the Nasi who never suffered the set-back rather than the praising the one who did?
Rav Menachem Dovid of Amshinov (1850-1918) explains that in fact the reverse is true. A leader who has not suffered personal failure will be unable to forgive the shortcomings of another. A leader who has never tasted the bitterness of personal defeat will not appreciate the struggles of those he must lead. The leader who always succeeds will look at those who do not with a sense of disdain and resentment. Therefore, Rabbi Yochanan ben Zakai says, “Praiseworthy is the generation whose leader has stumbled, for this is a leader who will understand, appreciate and empathize with the difficulties his flock must face.”
The words of the Amshinover resonate with incredible personal relevance. We all stumble, fall and suffer set-backs along the journey of life. Each of us (in our own unique way) has tasted the bitterness of defeat and has felt the pain of self-doubt. These experiences must sensitize and allow us to be accepting of the faults and shortcomings of the other. It is precisely because we know how frail we are that we must accept the frailties of those around us. In the aftermath of personal failure, we must learn to forgive ourselves in order to get up, move forward and make up lost ground. When we see the failures of others, we must forgive, understand and aid them in getting back up. It is because we know how much we yearn to be forgiven for our transgressions that we must be quick to dispense forgiveness to those who wrong us.
“Praiseworthy is the generation whose members recognize their own failures and are able to forgive and accept the shortcomings of others.”
Virtual Drasha: Just Add Salt (Vayikra)
Parsha Thought: Vayikra-Leave the World of Doubt
Parsha Perspectives: Vayikra-Time for Change
It has been a busy week. It began with a Bar Mitzvah on Motzei Shabbos, a wedding on Tuesday, and a funeral on Wednesday. Truthfully, this is not all that different from what a typical week looks like. The difference was, the Bar Mitzvah was on Zoom, the wedding livestreamed on YouTube. The funeral took place in the parking lot of our shul, in the pouring rain, with 10 men, standing 6 feet apart, while I delivered a eulogy standing under the open trunk door of the minivan containing the casket. These are challenging times. During these last two weeks we have seen the normal rhythms of life come to a grinding halt. The way we do everything has changed. The social and religious norms that many have known their entire lives have changed. It feels like everything is different. As Jews, it is our sacred mission to realize that within every set of circumstances is a lesson to be learned. God speaks to us in times of good and in times of challenge.
This week I learned a lot. From the funeral I conducted, I was reminded that life comes to an end. I realized that there are things I have to fix in myself and I can’t delay it any longer. I must do teshuva (repentance). I have been to and conducted many funerals and yet I never had this feeling before. We are living with the specter of illness hovering above us at all times and we are constantly confronted by the reality of our mortality. It really hit me – I won’t be here forever. And if I won’t be here forever, what do I want to accomplish? Who do I want to be? What will be my legacy? Am I leading a meaningful and fulfilling life? Is Hashem happy with me? Am I happy with myself? This is probably the appropriate reaction after any funeral, but it must have been the driving rain, the grayness of the sky, the 6 feet in between each of the attendees and the contemplative state I find myself in that propelled me to the inner recesses of my soul.
I have learned a lot by watching our dedicated doctors, nurses, Hatzalah members, who day in and day out, care for the sick. We are told to distance, isolate and quarantine. We are told to take all the necessary precautions to stay healthy and avoid spreading this dreaded virus. And yet each and every day these precious men and women put themselves in harms way to care for us and to protect us. They put themselves in danger to care for people they often don’t even know. I have been watching them and I have been learning from them. And so, I must ask myself, is there anything I sacrifice for? Do I give enough of myself to the community and others in need? Do I help only when it is convenient or am I willing to put myself out there for the needs of the other? When I see someone who is suffering or in pain, am I willing to stop what I am doing and help? Do I possess a real sense of empathy and compassion which propels me to take action when there is a need? I have always had great respect for our medical professionals and first responders, but as of two weeks ago, they have become my ultimate life teachers.
As I mentioned before, this was also a week of incredible simcha (celebration). I learned that the ability to generate genuine joy is not related to the menu, centerpieces, venue choices or apparel options. I listened to a Bar Mitzvah boy deliver his Dvar Torah with genuine simcha despite the lack of “party” trappings. I danced with my sons in my home as the Bar Mitzvah boy and his family danced in their home and yet, somehow, we were all together. I saw a bride and groom who possessed so much love for each other and yet all they had was one holy Jew playing the guitar for them. We live in a time of unparalleled affluence (IY’H the market will recover) and too often we think that it is the material trappings which create the joy around life events. Lest you think that this is a rant against materialism, in full disclosure, I too (really) enjoy the finer things in life. But we must strive to create balance. The COVID-19 crisis will come to an end IYH. The question is, who will we be on the other side of this crisis? Will we breathe a sigh of relief and go back to business as usual? Or will we take a critical look at how we do things and consider changing course? We have seen firsthand that you can create incredible joy with very little. It is the people who make the simcha jubilant. In fact, we see this concept in this week’s Parsha:
“And if a person (nefesh, soul) brings a meal offering to the Lord, his offering shall be of fine flour. He shall pour oil over it and place frankincense upon it.” (Vayikra 2:1)
Rashi comments: “And if a person brings: [literally, ‘And if a soul brings.’] Regarding all the sacrifices which were donated voluntarily, the only instance where Scripture states the word נֶפֶשׁ ‘soul’ is in the case of the meal-offering. Now, who usually donates a meal-offering? A poor man [because flour is less expensive than birds or animals]. [Hence,] the Holy One Blessed is He, says: ‘I account if for him as if he has sacrificed his very soul!’” [Menachos 104b]
God says to us – Lest you think that the wealthy man’s offering is more important than the poor man’s; it is not the value of the offering that matters, it is the feeling, the heart, the emotion you invest that is most important to me. God doesn’t judge successful spiritual service by the girth of the animal you bring. He bases it on the joy and commitment with which you serve.
Imagine if we stop making Bar Mitzvahs that are full catered affairs and create an incredible amount of social pressure. Perhaps, a beautiful kiddush and then meals for family only? Do we need a full Bo Bayom celebration in additional to a Bar Mitzvah celebration? Imagine if we accept that weddings should always be family with a few close friends of the families and of the chosson (groom) and kallah (bride). Do we realize the financial and social pressure we would remove from so many of our brothers and sisters? Do we need to plan a l’chaim, vort and wedding? Save the money (and time) and give it to your children, keep it and go on vacation, give it to charity. I have seen firsthand how simchas become a source of incredible tension for families. It is expensive to be an observant Jew, and most don’t have thousands of dollars lying around to spend on a celebration. But there is pressure. There is pressure from family, community and friends. A pressure to keep up. No one wants to be the person who does things differently. Again, in full disclosure, I too have made (and paid) for these extravagant events. I am not advocating for forcing people or enacting communal standards which require people to do or not do certain things. I am a believer in free choice. Every person has the right to make their own decisions and plan their own celebrations. I just feel that we need to start thinking about this now. Because when all of this is over, we will run back to shul (synagogue), yeshiva, school and the office, and the rhythm of life will once again pick up. But right now, we all feel it – the world is changing, we are changing, something is different.
When all of this is over, I hope I can find the courage to do things differently in many areas of my life.
The Ultimate Sacrifice: What Does Hashem Truly Want from Us?
Parsha Thought: Vayikra-Say What You Mean
Parsha Perspectives: Vayikra-Finding Forgiveness
Alexander Pope wrote, “To err is human; to forgive, divine.” From the moment we are first introduced to Adam in the beginning of Genesis it is clear that man is prone to falling and failing. In this week’s Parsha, the Torah begins the lengthy section detailing sacrificial law. There are offerings brought for thanksgiving and celebration and there are offerings brought for atonement in the aftermath of sin. There are sacrifices for the mistakes of the common man and there are special sacrificial rites for the sins of the leader.
“If a leader [of Israel] sins and unintentionally commits one of all the commandments of the Lord, which may not be committed, incurring guilt; if his sin that he has committed is made known to him, then he shall bring his offering: an unblemished male goat.” (Vayikra 4:22)
In this verse the Torah describes the events that occur if the Nasi, the leader of the Jewish people, inadvertently issues an erroneous halachik ruling (permitting that which is prohibited) and acts upon his own ruling (thereby committing a sin). The verses describe the special sacrificial service to atone for his transgression.
The verse begins with the Hebrew word “Asher,” translated as “if.” In a bit of a play on words, the Talmud (Horiyos 10b) explains: “Rabbi Yochanan ben Zakai said: Praiseworthy (Ashrei) is the generation whose leader brings a sin-offering for his inadvertent transgression.”
Rabbi Yochanan ben Zakai teaches us that it can be difficult for one in a leadership position to admit he has done something wrong. The leader may be concerned about his image, about his ability to “lead” in the aftermath of an admission of guilt. And so, praiseworthy is the leader who can admit his faults, seek atonement and attempt to restore his spiritual standing.
But shouldn’t the Talmud have reserved its praise for the leader who has not sinned at all? Shouldn’t Rabbi Yochanan save his “Ashrei” accolade for the leader who does not suffer a spiritual lapse? Such a leader can serve as incredible role model for his constituents and followers. If our leader can remain above temptation, if our leader can avoid the spiritual and physical pitfalls of life, we can as well. Why not laud the Nasi who never suffered the set-back rather than the praising the one who did?
Rav Menachem Dovid of Amshinov (1850-1918) explains that in fact the reverse is true. A leader who has not suffered personal failure will be unable to forgive the shortcomings of another. A leader who has never tasted the bitterness of personal defeat will not appreciate the struggles of those he must lead. The leader who always succeeds will look at those who do not with a sense of disdain and resentment. Therefore, Rabbi Yochanan ben Zakai says, “Praiseworthy is the generation whose leader has stumbled, for this is a leader who will understand, appreciate and empathize with the difficulties his flock must face.”
The words of the Amshinover resonate with incredible personal relevance. We all stumble, fall and suffer set-backs along the journey of life. Each of us (in our own unique way) has tasted the bitterness of defeat and has felt the pain of self-doubt. These experiences must sensitize and allow us to be accepting of the faults and shortcomings of the other. It is precisely because we know how frail we are that we must accept the frailties of those around us. In the aftermath of personal failure, we must learn to forgive ourselves in order to get up, move forward and make up lost ground. When we see the failures of others, we must forgive, understand and aid them in getting back up. It is because we know how much we yearn to be forgiven for our transgressions that we must be quick to dispense forgiveness to those who wrong us.
“Praiseworthy is the generation whose members recognize their own failures and are able to forgive and accept the shortcomings of others.”
