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By: Rabbi Barak Bar-Chaim

Jacob is about to meet his brother Esau after having been separated from him for many years. Jacob is fearful that Esau will attempt to kill him, his wives, and his children. Jacob pleads with God, saying: “Please save me from the hand of my brother, from the hand of Esau, for I am afraid of him, lest he come and strike me, mothers together with children.” (Genesis, 32:12)

Our commentators question the redundancy in Jacob’s prayer. Why does Jacob say “…from the hand of my brother, from the hand of Esau”? He should have simply said: “Save me from the hand of Esau.” The Beit Halevi explains that Jacob was fearful of two possible outcomes from his encounter with Esau. One possible outcome was that Esau would attempt to annihilate him and his family. The other possible outcome was that Esau would attempt to befriend him and build a brotherly relationship. Jacob’s fear of physical annihilation is completely understandable, but why would he be fearful of Esau’s brotherly friendship?

The Beit Halevi quotes Midrashic sources, which explain that Jacob was concerned that Esau’s friendship would result in Esau attempting to influence Jacob to compromise on his spiritual ideals and values. This was, in fact, Jacob’s primary concern and, therefore, he prays: “Save me from the hand of my brother, from the hand of Esau…” (emphasizing the brotherly aspect of Esau first). Jacob knew that Esau’s brotherly friendship would, very likely, lead to Jacob’s own spiritual destruction. He was much more fearful of spiritual death than of physical death.  

Jacob, who is later named Israel, is the father of the entire Jewish nation. His concerns and struggles form the DNA of his descendants, the Jewish people’s struggles. Purim is an example of an attempt to annihilate the Jewish People. There were no decrees against religious practice on Purim, simply an attempt “…to destroy and kill all the Jews from young to old…” (Esther, 3:13) Chanukah, on the other hand, was an attempt to assimilate the Jews into a hedonistic, atheistic culture. The Greeks never tried to physically destroy the Jewish people, but, rather, outlawed Torah study and practice.  

The pure light of the Chanukah candles reminds us to hold on to and, indeed, cherish, the pure Torah and the Godly lifestyle of Torah living. While our physical lives are so precious and important, our connection to God, our spiritual values, and our traditions, are even more important!




By: Rabbi Barak Bar-Chaim

After Sarah’s maidservant (Hagar) conceived, Sarah felt that Hagar was treating her with a lack of respect. Sarah afflicted Hagar and Hagar fled. Hagar came to a wellspring where an angel informed her that, in the future, she will give birth to a son. The angel commanded her to name her future son Yishmael, because Hashem has heard her affliction (suffering). Hagar then names this wellspring Be’er Lechai Roi, which means ‘The well where I saw a living angel’.

We would expect this wellspring to be significant in Yishmael’s life, but, strangely, we find that this location was associated with Yitzchak. The Torah tells us that when Eliezer was bringing Rivka to marry Yitzchak, Yitzchak was coming from this very location (Be’er Lechai Roi). Additionally, the Torah tells us that after Abraham’s death, Yitzchak lived near Be’er Lechai Roi. Yitzchak was born to Sarah and not to Hagar. Why was this place significant for Yitzchak? Why did he choose to live near this location?  

Rabbi Ovadia Seforno explains that Hagar had poured her heart out to God in prayer at this very location. Her prayer was so heartfelt that an angel appeared before her and informed her that God had heard her prayers. Yitzchak knew that this location had been sanctified by Hagar’s deep, heartfelt prayers. Therefore, Yitzchak would come to this specific location (Be’er Lechai Roi) to pray for a fitting wife. Yitzchak later chose to live near this location so it would be accessible to him for prayer.

We can (and should) pray everywhere. However, we learn from this that there are physical places that become filled with holiness. Our prayers in these places are more powerful and effective. The Beit Hamikdash (Temple in Jerusalem) is such a place, and, therefore , The Western Wall is a particularly powerful place to pray.

Our sages teach us that our synagogues, which are places set aside for prayer, are filled with holiness. Our prayers in the synagogue are more powerful than our prayers at home. Praying in a synagogue is more beneficial than praying at home, even if one is not praying with a minyan. This is true because the actual location has sanctity. Praying in a synagogue is a great gift and opportunity. Now that we return to in-person services, let us fully appreciate this gift and join together in prayer in our holy sanctuaries.

Vayera/Chayei Sarah



By: Rabbi Barak Bar-Chaim

“…each and every person is obligated to say: The world was created for me.” (Sanhedrin Ch. 4 Mishna 5)

The above Mishna stresses the uniqueness and importance of each one of us. It declares that human beings are not merely a spec of cosmic dust in the infinite universe. Human beings are, in fact, the focus and central point of the universe. We are to remember that our lives and actions are meaningful and impactful.

Rabbi Nachman of Breslov explains that this teaching broadens our level of responsibility and concern from our own personal lives and circumstances to the entire world. He states: “It emerges that if the world was created for me, I am required to constantly be aware of what I can fix in the world, that I must fill the lack in the world, and that I must pray for others.” If I view the entire world as being created for me, then I also feel a responsibility to make MY world a better place.

Rebbe Nachman teaches us that there is always something we can do. Even in circumstances where we are powerless to correct a difficult situation, there is still something we can do. We can always pray to God for the welfare of others. Our forefather, Abraham, views the welfare of the entire world as his responsibility. He assists wayfarers with both their physical and spiritual wellbeing. When Abraham hears that God plans to destroy the city of Sedom, he becomes the defense attorney of the city and pleads with God numerous times to save the people of Sedom from destruction.

We all have the tendency to be insular and focused primarily on our own personal life situations. We sometimes become oblivious and, worse yet, indifferent to the plight of others around us. Abraham challenges us to broaden our vision and to view the entire world as ‘my world’. Abraham challenges us to act and pray for the welfare of everyone! 




By: Rabbi Barak Bar-Chaim

Noah leaves the ark, builds an altar, and brings animal offerings to the altar. God responds by making a covenant never to destroy the world again through a flood. God states that the rainbow (keshet in Hebrew) will be a reminder to man of God’s covenant. Many commentators ask why God chose the rainbow as a sign of this covenant?

Ramban offers the following answer. The Hebrew term used for a rainbow is keshet, which also means bow. The rainbow appears like a bow, positioned to point its arrows upward toward the sky. God is communicating to humankind that He will no longer point His arrows towards the earth to destroy it. Chizkuni provides a different answer (based on the prophet Yechezkel’s vision): “Like the appearance of the bow which shines in the clouds on a day of rain, such was the appearance of the surrounding radiance. That was the appearance of the semblance of the Presence of the LORD. When I beheld it, I flung myself down on my face. And I heard the voice of someone speaking.” (Yechezkel 1:28) When the rainbow appears after the rain, it is as if God is saying: I am showing you a glimpse of My beauty to assure you that I will not destroy the earth with rain.

Rabbi Frand quotes Rabbi Meir Shapiro’s beautiful answer to the message of the Rainbow. Noah was unsuccessful in convincing the people of his generation to repent and return to God. It took Noah 120 years to build the ark, and yet, there was not even one person that he managed to bring close to God. Rabbi Meir Shapiro suggests that Noah felt that the people of his generation were so wicked that it was pointless and impossible to bring them over to Godliness and spirituality. He gave up hope on his generation and, therefore, failed to influence them positively. Before a storm, the sky gets dark and blocks out the sunlight. The clouds then disperse and the light of the sun returns to brighten the sky and to form a beautiful rainbow. We should never give up on any individual, no matter how far that person has fallen. Behind the dark clouds, the light of the sun is just waiting to emerge. Our task is to disperse the large, dark clouds and allow God’s light to reveal the true beauty hidden in every person.

Ha'Azinu/Bereshit/Sukkot/Shmini Atzeret/Simchat Torah



By: Rabbi Barak Bar-Chaim

In our liturgy, we refer to Sukkot as the Time of Our Joy (Zman Simchateinu). It seems strange that in the time of our joy, we leave our luxurious, permanent homes and venture into less comfortable temporary structures in which we are vulnerable to external weather conditions.


I think Sukkot’s message to us is very simple. If you need to eat in your permanent, secure home to be happy, you are not truly happy. You may be temporarily enjoying yourself and comfortable, but that is not happiness. You are probably just moments away from something that will make you feel miserable. The stock market may go down, you may lose your job, your housekeeper may misplace something you are looking for, someone may say something that upsets you, and the list goes on forever. In fact, if your happiness is dependent on anything, whether internal or external, you have not achieved true happiness.


Now, according to the Rebbe Nachman of Breslov, we are obligated to constantly maintain a state of happiness. Even during the tragic month of Av, our sages do not instruct us to be unhappy—we are merely instructed to limit external expressions of extreme happiness. Our sages, in Ethics of the Fathers, state: “Who is the wealthy person? The one who is happy with their lot.” I would like to take the liberty of rephrasing this teaching as: ‘Who is the truly happy person? The one who is happy with their lot.” We are unhappy when we think that things are not how they should be,  when we feel like we are lacking something, or feel insecure in some way. However, when we feel that what we have is just right for us and exactly what we need, we feel a sense of calm and true happiness.

The great ethical work ‘Orchot Tzadikim’ explains that being ‘happy with one’s lot' is not simply about financial resources. It is about one’s entire life package: one’s relationships, friends, health, family, and financial resources. Rabbi Shalom Arush, in his commentary about Rabbi Nachman’s ‘Story of the Wise and Simple Person’, explains that one’s life package even includes one’s personal weaknesses, deficiencies, and all the consequences thereof.

How can we get to this level of being happy with one’s lot? By knowing deeply (in the depth of our beings) that our entire life circumstances, blessings, challenges, strengths, and weaknesses, are all from God and all for our good. Right now, we all have exactly what our individual souls need for our development and correction in this world. Only with this deep, internalized belief, can we be truly happy. Our current circumstances are always ideal, because they have been tailor picked for us by our Father in Heaven. We may prefer to work toward different circumstances in the future, and, in fact, God encourages us to better ourselves and the world, but we do this by accepting, embracing, and even celebrating our entire lot in life.

The Sukkah represents being surrounded by God’s presence, which manifested in the desert as the Clouds of Glory. Let us remind ourselves that the only path to true happiness is the deep realization that our loving Father is always with us, providing us with what truly is ultimately good for us. May we all merit to embrace the life-long challenge of internalizing this truth and merit a life of true happiness.

Chag Sameach!

Ki Tavo/Nitzavim/Vayeilech/RoshHashanah/Yom Kippur



By: Rabbi Barak Bar-Chaim

Our Rabbis refer to the upcoming holiday as Rosh Hashanah, the new year, or more accurately, the head of the year. In our liturgy, we also refer to this holiday as Yom Hadin, the Day of Judgment. The biblical name for this holiday is Yom T’ruah, which is often translated as the day of blowing the Shofar. But what exactly is T’ruah? Why is this the way the Torah expresses the holiday? How are the three names of Rosh Hashanah (Rosh Hashanah, Yom Hadin, and Yom T’ruah) connected to one another?

The Talmud explains that the word T’ruah is translated into Aramaic as Yevava (which means to cry), and we learn from this that we are obligated to blow the Shofar in what we call a T’ruah – a crying sound. There are different types of crying sounds and that is why we blow the Shvarim, the Truah, and the Shvarim T’ruah. We blow a T’kiah sound before and after these blasts. On Rosh Hashanah, the Torah is commanding us to blow crying notes. Why are we instructed to do this on Rosh Hashanah?

Rav Hershel Schachter explains that everyone agrees that there is a Torah command to pray in troublesome times, in times of stress and calamity. He explains further that because Rosh Hashanah is the Day of Judgment, when we are judged by God and our entire futures are in the balance, Rosh Hashanah is an Eit Tzarah – a troublesome time. Therefore, there is a biblical obligation to pray to God on Rosh Hashanah.

Rav Shachter explains that Rav Soloveitchik would quote the following Gemarah: Rabbi Elazar says: “Since the day the Temple was destroyed the gates of prayer were locked, and prayer is not accepted as it once was, as is stated in the lament of the Temple’s destruction. Though I plead and call out, He shuts out my prayer (Lamentations 3:8). Yet, despite the fact that the gates of prayer were locked with the destruction of the Temple, the gates of tears were not locked, and one who cries before God may rest assured that his prayers will be answered, as it is stated: Hear my prayer, Lord, and give ear to my pleading, keep not silence at my tears (Psalms 39:13).” (Baba Metzia 59a)

We see from here that prayers with tears and crying are so powerful that King David says confidently that God will not remain silent when He hears prayers with tears. We have a special obligation to pray on Rosh Hashanah and have the Shofar’s cries to transform our prayers to the level of prayers with tears.

Friends, we must realize that on Rosh Hashanah we stand in judgment before the master of the universe. Our future for the year ahead is being determined on Rosh Hashanah. It is imperative for us to understand that our lives, the lives of our loved ones, the welfare of our nation, and the welfare of all humanity are in the balance. This sentiment is echoed in the Untaneh Tokef prayer “who will live and who will die, who will be sick and who will be well, who will be wealthy and who will be poor.” Our preparation for Rosh Hashanah is to intensify our prayers, to pray with more intention, more truthfully, and more sincerely. Our prayers on Rosh Hashanah will then be elevated before God through our prayers, tears, and the crying call of the Shofar. In that merit, may will all be signed and sealed for a good, healthy, successful, and blessed year.

Shoftim/Ki Teitzei



By: Rabbi Barak Bar-Chaim

I find it very difficult to go away on vacation (given all my responsibilities) and need my wife to encourage me along. However, when I finally get away for a few days, I find myself able to change gears, relax, and reflect on aspects of my life in a more profound way. I get to see my wife and children in a different light and reconnect with them. Why can’t I do this at home? Because at home I am less able to view things as an external observer. I am wrapped up in my day-to-day activities and do not have enough external awareness to view things from the correct perspective. We are like ants on a beautiful picture focused only on the paint in front of our eyes, unable to see the broader picture.

In Parshat Shoftim, the Torah commands the Jewish people to set aside cities of refuge. Individuals guilty of involuntary manslaughter (accidental murder resulting from negligence) were commanded to leave their hometowns and flee to a city of refuge. A person guilty of involuntary manslaughter must relocate to specific cities for rehabilitation. Maimonides (based on a Mishna) states that a Levite dwelling in a city of refuge (who is found guilty of involuntary manslaughter) is obligated to leave his home city and flee to a different city of refuge. Clearly, being in one of these cities is not sufficient for rehabilitation. The actual process of being exiled from one’s regular living place is an essential part of the rehabilitation process.

A person guilty of involuntary manslaughter has become overly focused on him/herself and acts negligently, without considering others, resulting in tragedy. The Torah, in its wisdom, therefore commands that the person be exiled. The exile process enables the person to get out of him/herself, to broaden his/her awareness, and, thus, shift his/her focus and priorities.

The problem is that one cannot always be away and on vacation. The solution must be to somehow have a broader ‘away’ consciousness while still being at home. There must be a way to be able to stand back from the busyness, stresses, and hustle and bustle of life. The two tools I have found to be most useful in this regard are Torah study and mindfulness practice. Torah study reorients our worldview and priorities, enabling us to expand our consciousness. Mindfulness practice helps us to be aware of ourselves and others as external observers, freeing ourselves from the myopic and self-absorbed mindsets we tend to fall into. As we approach Rosh Hashanah, the Day of Judgement, let us strengthen our resolve to step back, notice our patterns, realign our priorities, and commit to living at home with an ‘away’ consciousness.




By: Rabbi Barak Bar-Chaim

Seventeen months ago, the COVID-19 pandemic struck. Many people got sick and, tragically, many people lost their lives. Our doctors and scientists did not understand the COVID-19 virus, did not know how to treat it, and had no antidote to the virus. For the first time in a very long time, western civilizations were vulnerable and had no answers? Doctors and scientists looked for treatments, cures, and preventive measures. Vaccines were developed and we all breathed a sigh of relief thinking we were finally safe again. Mankind had, seemingly, discovered a solution to this plague. Infection rates decreased dramatically and all the numbers were looking better.

Then, the Delta variant lurked in the distance. Would it reach our shores? Would our vaccines protect us against this variant? And now it is here, and we have just been guided by the CDC to wear masks indoors even if vaccinated. Will this end? What is to stop a new variant from arising? We are left feeling vulnerable again.

“Beware that you do not forget the Lord…. Who fed you with manna in the desert, which your forefathers did not know, in order to afflict you and in order to test you…” (Deuteronomy 8: 11-16)

What is the meaning that God gave us the manna in order to afflict us and test us? The Netziv has an interesting interpretation. God afflicted us by placing us in a situation where we had nothing to eat and no solution. God then provided us with a last minute resolution by giving us the manna. There was no way to store the manna and, therefore, we remained vulnerable each and every day. We had no option but to look to God to provide us with our livelihoods. Thus, the Jewish people came to trust in God for their livelihood and salvation. When we see our efforts prosper, we tend to ‘forget this message’.  Thus, the Torah warns: “And you will say to yourself, My strength and the might of my hand has accumulated this wealth for me. But you must remember the Lord your God, for it is He that gives you strength to make wealth….” (Deuteronomy 8: 17-18)

Just when we thought our efforts had alleviated our vulnerability, we are reminded that we are constantly dependent on God for salvation in all areas. We need God to bless the work of our hands and make them successful in areas of scientific development, livelihood, and health. The Delta variant reminds us of our dependence on God and His blessing our handiwork for our ultimate salvation. Let us pray that God blesses the handiwork of our doctors and scientists to find a lasting solution to this tragic pandemic.

Devarim/Tisha B'Av/Vaetchanan/Tu B'Av



By: Rabbi Barak Bar-Chaim

We are obligated to recite blessings before Torah study. These blessings are printed at the beginning of our prayer books (siddurim). The Talmud (Nedarim 81a) states that the destruction of the Temple and the exile from the land of Israel were a result of people not reciting blessings before Torah study. This statement is perplexing for a few reasons. Why should a seemingly minor infraction result in the destruction of the Temple and exile? Our sages also teach us that the first Temple was destroyed because the nation was transgressing the three cardinal sins: idol worship, sexual immorality (such as adultery), and murder. What was the real cause of the destruction? Was it the three cardinal sins or was it the fact that the Jewish people never recited blessings before Torah study?

The Maharal of Prague (Introduction to Tiferet Yisrael) addresses these questions. He explains that the blessings we say are intended to be an expression of love and gratitude to God. The blessings we say before reciting the Torah are meant to emanate from a love and gratitude to God for giving us the Torah, our precious life guide. God is the source of the Torah, and when we express love and thanks to God for giving us this precious gift, God renews the Torah and its transformational power within us.

When our sages say that the nation did not say the blessings before learning Torah, they are not referring to saying the words of the blessings; they are referring to saying the blessings with a heartfelt love and thanks to God. Therefore, God, who constantly creates the Torah and brings the Torah into the minds and hearts of mankind, would not do so for people who did not value the Torah. The nation lost the influence of the Torah in their lives and, subsequently, transgressed the three cardinal sins of idol worship, sexual immorality, and murder.

Let us show our love and appreciation to God for giving us the most precious gift of all--the Torah--a magnificent, deep, and inspirational guide to eternal life. In that merit, God will renew and manifest His Torah within us, thereby inspiring us to fulfill all His commands with love. We will, thus, merit the rebuilding of the Temple soon in our days. Amen!




By: Rabbi Barak Bar-Chaim

If a man makes a vow to the LORD or takes an oath imposing an obligation on himself, he shall not break his pledge; he must carry out all that has crossed his lips. (Numbers 30:3)

The Torah, at the beginning of the book of Genesis, describes how God created the first human being. God fashioned the body of the first human being from the earth and then blew into his nostrils a breath of life. The human then became a living being. Animals are also living beings, so, what is meant by the expression in the Torah: “And man became a living being”? Onkelos explains that this means that man became a speaking being. According to Onkelos, what distinguishes human beings from animals is coherent speech. Our sages, in defining the different level of human life force, refer to a human being as a medaber (a speaker). Why is this the lofty definition of human life?

Rabbi Yitzchak Hutner explains that a human being, by definition, is a combination of the Divine soul (the breath of life) and a physical body. The place where the two converge in the most powerful way is speech. Speech combines the use of the physical vocal cords, the tongue, etc., and the uniquely human spirit (related to the intellect and cognitive processes). The conflict between base physical drives of the body and the Divine soul’s spiritual aspirations, allows for a free-willed entity capable of free choice.

Our speech represents our very essence as human beings and, therefore, it behooves us to purify our speech. The Torah prohibits falsehood, slander, hurtful words, and implores us to keep our word. When we use our speech negatively, and especially when we break our word, we lose our humanity and descend into the animal kingdom. This is why we feel so deflated when we break our word and so empowered when we uphold our word.

In this time period leading up to Tisha B’Av, we mourn the destruction of the Temple. The Temple was destroyed by destructive speech. Let us rebuild the Temple by avoiding slander. Let us strengthen our commitment to keep our word and to share positive words of love and encouragement with others




By: Rabbi Barak Bar-Chaim

"They journeyed from Mount Hor by way of the Red Sea to circle the land of Edom, and the people became frustrated because of the way. The people spoke against God and against Moses, ‘Why have you brought us up out of Egypt to die in this desert, for there is no bread and no water, and we are disgusted with this rotten bread.’” (Numbers 21, 4-5)

Rashi explains that in all other places in the Bible where it says that the people become frustrated (vatikzar nefesh in Hebrew), it immediately follows with the subject of their frustration. Rashi, therefore, explains that the object of their frustration was the bother of the journey itself. They were tired of traveling and felt incredibly frustrated by it.

The Midrash (Bamidbar 19,21) asks a question about the following verse, which refers to the Jewish people’s travels in the desert: “And You gave Your good spirit to make them understand, and You did not withhold Your manna from their mouth, and You gave them water for their thirst.” (Nechemiah 9,20) This verse implies that they were in good spirits during their travels in the desert, which is at odds with the Torah’s recording of their frustration with the bother of traveling? The Midrash answers that the members of the nation that were decreed to die in the desert because of the sin of the spies, were the ones who were frustrated and suffered from traveling in the desert. Meanwhile, the generation of people destined to enter the Promised Land were in good spirits and not frustrated or bothered by traveling in the desert.

The Midrash does not explain, however, the reason for the varying attitudes of these two groups of people. I would suggest the solution is a simple psychological principle. When you know a situation is only temporary, you approach the challenges of the situation with an accepting, constructive, and positive attitude. However, when you feel a situation is permanent, then the challenges become magnified in your mind, and you are no longer able to deal with them with a calm acceptance. The generation that would live out their lives in the desert, suffered terribly from the bother of traveling in the desert. The generation that knew their situation was temporary, encountered the challenges with a positive attitude and accepted that all this traveling was just part of the journey to the Promised Land.

To better negotiate life’s challenges, we need to deeply realize that our entire lives are simply a temporary journey to the everlasting afterlife. Our entire lives are a train ride to a wonderful destination. Let us internalize this message and, thereby, approach life’s challenges with a more positive and accepting attitude. 




By: Rabbi Barak Bar-Chaim

While the Torah details the sin of the spies in  Parshat Shelach, Moshe Rabeinu recounts their sin in Parshat Devarim. Moshe Rabeinu reminds the nation of their reaction to the spies negative report: “You sulked in your tents and said, It is because the LORD hates us that He brought us out of the land of Egypt, to hand us over to the Amorites to wipe us out.’” (Devarim 1:27) One would expect the nation that was miraculously redeemed from bondage in Egypt, received the Torah on Mt. Sinai, and consumed the heavenly manna, to feel loved by God. Why on earth did they feel hated? Additionally, God had promised to bring them into the Promised Land. Why would they think that God’s intention was to have the Amorites wipe them out?

Rabbi Naftali Tzvi Yehudah Berlin explains (see Seforno for similar explanation) that the generation that left Egypt had no doubt that God’s intention was to make their descendants God’s treasured nation in the Land of Israel, and that God had tremendous love for their descendants. However, they felt that God hated them for being idolaters in Egypt. They thought that God had only spared their lives temporarily to assist in bringing the next generation for entry into the Promised Land. Now that they were about to enter the land, they feared God still hated them for their idolatrous past and would have the Amorites wipe them out. Moses attempts to prove to them that, in fact, God loves them and intends to bring them into the Promised Land, but they refuse to accept his words.

The generation that left Egypt could not find it within themselves to believe that God loved them despite their idolatrous past. The core of their mistake is actually a flawed and limited notion of God. They are limiting God’s kindness, love, and compassion by assuming that their sinful past limits God’s ability to love them. It is true that we strive to gain favor in God’s eyes by avoiding sinful behaviors and performing mitzvoth. Nonetheless, when we fall short of perfection, we should never give up on receiving love, compassion, and goodness from God. True faith dictates that one recognizes that God is so compassionate that even though one may have made mistakes, God still loves and cares deeply. Giving up hope of receiving goodness from God because of our imperfections is a lack of faith in God’s infinite kindness. Despite our many imperfections, let us constantly hope and believe in God’s infinite kindness and love, and in the merit of our trust and faith, may God bring the final redemption speedily in our days.




By: Rabbi Barak Bar-Chaim

The Torah instructs us to give the Cohen various gifts (such as tithings from our crops, the first fruits, and other holy donations). Immediately following this instruction, the Torah speaks of the suspected adulterous wife. The husband must bring his wife to the Cohen, and the Cohen initiates a process to determine whether or not she is guilty of adultery.

Rashi explains the juxtaposition of giving gifts to the Cohen and bringing a suspected adulterous woman before the Cohen. If a person withholds donations to the Cohen, then the person will be forced to go to the Cohen with his suspected adulterous wife. While this explanation connects these two seemingly unrelated areas, the connection itself requires further explanation. What is the spiritual connection between withholding priestly donations and appearing before the Cohen with one’s suspected adulterous wife? The answer to a different question sheds light on this connection.

The Mishna in Ethics of the Fathers states: “Hillel used to say: be of the disciples of Aaron, loving peace and pursuing peace, loving mankind and drawing them close to the Torah.” (1:12)

Hillel portrays Aaron, the Cohen Gadol (High Priest), as loving peace and pursuing peace. Although there are teachings in the oral Torah (Midrashim) portraying Aaron as a peacemaker, it is rather perplexing that there are, seemingly, no such teachings in the written Torah. One would expect such an important aspect of Aaron’s character to appear in the written Torah? Maharal explains that Aaron’s role as a peacemaker was, in fact, documented in the Torah. The Torah commands Aaron and his children to bring the various korbanot (offerings) in the Temple on behalf of the Jewish people. The purpose of the korbanot is to make peace between God and the Jewish people. Therefore, Aaron and his children were tasked with making peace.

We can now understand what Rashi was explaining on a deeper level. The Cohanim are responsible for restoring and maintaining peace and harmony between God and the Jewish people. People who fail to support and appreciate the Cohanim and their peacemaking mission, will (measure for measure) experience disharmony (lack of peace) in their personal relationships. Measure for measure, these people will eventually be forced to turn to the Cohen to restore the peace in their personal relationships. May we strive to pursue peace on every level of our lives—peace between ourselves and God as well as peace between ourselves and our fellow human beings. 




By: Rabbi Barak Bar-Chaim

"Do not wrong one another, but fear your God; for I the LORD am your God.” (Leviticus 25:17)

This verse, one of the 613 commandments in the Torah, instructs us not to wrong other people.  It is not clear from this verse what wronging other people entails.

Our sages explain this prohibition refers to wronging people with words. What does it mean to wrong people with words?

Rabbi Samson Raphael Hirsch explains that the Torah uses the very same expression (“wrong one another”) with regards to monetary transactions. Specifically, overcharging someone ignorant of the actual value of an object falls under the prohibition of wronging someone in a monetary sense. Taking advantage of someone’s ignorance or weakness and, thereby, profiting is prohibited. Similarly, we are prohibited from using words that take advantage of someone’s ignorance or weakness and, thereby, inflict emotional pain upon the person. Here are a few examples of this prohibition as codified by Maimonides and others:

1) One should not remind who has repented of their previous sins, thereby causing them embarrassment and pain.

2) One should not ask someone a question knowing that they do not know the answer? Taking advantage of their ignorance in this way may upset them.

3)  One should not ask a store owner how much an item costs if one has no intention to purchase the item. The seller’s hopes have been unnecessarily dashed.

4) One should not tell a person that their suffering is due to their sins as Job’s friends did to him saying “has anyone perished who was totally innocent?”

5) One should not give someone advice that is not in the person’s best interests even if no monetary damage results from the advice.

These are some examples of prohibited speech. In Sefer Hamiztvoth (Mitzvah 251), Maimonides summarizes the prohibition as follows: “… we are forbidden from verbally wronging another person by telling them things that will distress and humiliate them and make them discouraged.”

The Talmud teaches us that 24,000 students of Rebbi Akiva perished in a plague between Passover and Shavuot, because they did not show sufficient honor to one another. Receiving the Torah on Shavuot requires us to be united, as if we are one person with one heart. Let us be more careful with our words, ensuring we do not cause any pain to others, and share words of upliftment and encouragement with others. 

Achrei Mot-Kedoshim/Emor



By: Rabbi Barak Bar-Chaim

"You shall do no injustice in judgement, in length, in weight, or in capacity. Accurate scales, accurate weights, an accurate dry measure, and an accurate liquid measure, you shall have. I am the Lord your God, who took you out of the land of Egypt.” Leviticus (19, 35-36)

In the above verses, the Torah is essentially instructing us to ensure that we are scrupulously honest in our business transactions. The concluding words “I am the Lord your God, who took you out of the land of Egypt” seem to have nothing to do with the concept of dealing honestly in business. Additionally, the introduction to the prohibition “You shall do no injustice in judgement” is difficult to understand. We are referring to a person involved in a business transaction, not to a judge in a courtroom. Rashi, quoting the Sifra, explains that this teaches us that a person who is dishonest in business “Brings about those five things which are mentioned in connection with the judge who perverts justice: he defiles the land, profanes the Name of the Lord, causes the Shechinah to depart from Israel's midst, Israel to fall by the sword and to be exiled from their land.” Rashi’s comment also requires further explanation. Why is it that a person who is dishonest in business causes the same consequences as the corrupt judge?

Torah law demands judges be “fearers of God, men of truth and haters of ill-gotten gain.” (Exodus 18,21) Similarly, when it comes to our business dealings, Torah law commands us to be “fearers of God, men of truth and haters of ill-gotten gain”. When we do our business dealings, God asks us to remember that He redeemed us from the land of Egypt. Our redemption from Egypt reminds us that God is in control and that, ultimately, we will not get ahead through dishonest means. Our mission in business is not simply to make a living, but, rather, to be honest and ethical people. When we do so, we purify the land, sanctify God’s name, return the Divine presence and assist in bringing the ultimate redemption. May we merit this redemption soon in our days. 




By: Rabbi Barak Bar-Chaim

The Book­ of Leviticus deals with a number of circumstances that render a person ritually impure. In Parshat Tazria, the Torah states that a woman becomes ‘impure’ after a natural childbirth. Parshat Emor instructs us that a Kohen is forbidden to bring ritual impurity upon himself by coming into close contact with the dead. Both of these forms of ritual impurity are difficult to understand. Why should the Mitzvah of bringing a human being into the world result in ritual impurity? Death is a natural, inevitable part of human existence. Why should involvement with burying the dead, which is also a Mitzvah, result in ritual impurity?

Rabbi Samson Raphael Hirsch, the great nineteenth century German Rabbi, has a fascinating solution to these questions. Interestingly, other great Rabbis (such as Rebbi Noson of Breslov) explain ritual impurity in a similar fashion. A defining feature of a human being created in the image of God is that he/she is a free-willed entity, empowered to choose right from wrong. When human beings proactively use their free will to control their physical destinies and rule over the natural world, the idea of a human being as a free-willed entity is highlighted and reinforced.

Conversely, when a human being feels that the natural world is too powerful to overcome, the person feels incapacitated and unempowered. This feeling diminishes the persons belief in the power of choice in general. The notion of God creating a human being with free will and with the ability to choose right from wrong is also diminished. The person is left feeling that nature is in charge and not God, Heaven forbid. The person feels that, ultimately, his/her spiritual efforts are fruitless and his/her faith in God is lost, Heaven forbid.

Perhaps no two events have a more powerful effect on the human psyche in this way than death and childbirth. Death screams out for all to hear, the power of the cycles of nature, and the human beings lack of power to prevent natures cycles. Plants rise and fall, animals rise and fall, and human being also rise and fall. Similarly, the powerful natural process of childbirth leaves a deep impression in the psyche of the childbearing woman that nature trumps all. Both death and childbirth have the deep spiritual and psychological effect of minimizing a person’s belief in being a proactive, powerful, and free-willed spiritual entity.                   

Rabbi Hirsch explains that the source of purity lies in the firm feeling of being a powerful, free-willed entity capable of choosing good and effecting change in the world. The source of impurity is exactly the oppositea feeling of being helpless, incapacitated, and unimpactful in the world. When one is directly involved in giving birth to a child or exposed to death, the spiritual and psychological effect of impurity are inevitable. One has to, then, go through a process to restore the pure feeling of being a free-willed, proactive, and potentially powerful person in the world. May we carry this purity with us on our life journeys.

Parshat Vayikra & Parshat Tzav/Shabbat HaGadol & Pesach



By: Rabbi Barak Bar-Chaim

"This matzah that we are eating, for what sake is it? For the sake that our ancestors' dough was not yet able to rise, before the King of kings, the Holy One, blessed be He, revealed Himself to them and redeemed them, as it is stated (Exodus 12:39); "And they baked the dough which they brought out of Egypt into matzah cakes, since it did not rise; because they were expelled from Egypt, and could not tarry, neither had they made for themselves provisions." (Teaching of Raban Gamliel from Haggadah)

We are commanded to eat matzah on Passover night as a symbol of our redemption, and we are forbidden to eat leavened bread throughout the seven days of Passover.

Why is leaving Egypt in a hurry and the fact that the dough was, therefore, not able to rise so significant? Personally, I don’t like to be rushed and would have much preferred a casual stroll out of Egypt. Additionally, most people I know would prefer to eat leavened bread (such as challah) rather than matzah at a festive meal. Passover is the festival of freedom, designated to celebrate the liberation from the enslavement in Egypt. Surely, the symbol of our freedom should be gourmet bread and not matzah?

The difference between chametz and matzah lies not in the basic ingredients (as both are made from flour and water). The only difference between chametz and matzah is time. Time is an attribute of the physical universe, which was created by God along with the entirety of the physical universe. The concept of time is associated with natural processes and events. Whereas, supernatural events are associated with the concept of being above/beyond the time dimension.

Egyptian culture was steeped in the narrowed belief that only the natural, physical world exists. The Hebrew slaves were also influenced by this world view. The purpose of the entire process of the miraculous exodus from Egypt was to liberate us from this limited world view. The liberation was accomplished by demonstrating the existence of a single God, a God above nature, unbound by material or time constraints. This is the entire meaning and purpose of Passover. For this reason, on Passover, we are commanded to eat matzah (which represents transcending nature) and are forbidden to eat leavened bread, chametz (which represents the natural world).

One final question needs to be addressed: Why is chametz permitted during the rest of the year? Rabbi Natan (the foremost student of Rebbi Nachman) suggests that once we spend Passover internalizing the existence of an unlimited God, above time and nature, we realize that the natural world is simply God constantly creating and choosing to keep the laws of nature in place. Once we realize this, we are then able to appropriately interact with the laws of nature represented by chametz. We now have the new-found understanding that the difference between miracles and nature lies only in the frequency of the events.

Our goal on Passover is to break out of our constricted views of the natural world. We expand our consciousness and rediscover God, the Divine hand behind the natural and supernatural world and begin to realize that, in truth, everything is possible!

Ki Tisa - Parshat Parah & Vayakhel/Pekudei - Parshat Hachodesh



By: Rabbi Barak Bar-Chaim

The Lord spoke to Moses, saying: "See, I have called by name Betzalel the son of Uri, the son of Hur, of the tribe of Judah, and I have imbued him with the spirit of God, with wisdom, with insight, with knowledge, and with [talent for] all manner of craftsmanship to do master weaving, to work with gold, with silver, and with copper, with the craft of stones for setting and with the craft of wood, to do every [manner of] work.” (Exodus 31, 1-5)

In the above verses, God instructs Moses to place Betzalel in charge of the construction of the Mishkan (Tabernacle) and its vessels. Our commentators are bothered by the unusual expression: “See, I have called by name Betzalel the son of Uri…” Why does God not simply tell Moses to appoint Betzlel? What is Moses to see? What does it mean that God called Betzalel by name?

Ramban explains that by way of this introduction, God preemptively answered a question that would be on the minds of Moses and the Jewish people. The construction of the Mishkan required many different artisan skills. Each skill is a profession in and of itself and requires tremendous expertise. An expert metal artisan, stone artisan, carpenter, and weaver (among other professionals) would be required for the construction. The Jewish people had been slaves in Egypt, performing back- breaking labor. It would be almost impossible to find an individual with expertise in any one of the required skills, let alone in all of the skills. Therefore, God communicated to Moses: I know you are looking at this and wondering how it is possible for one person to be an expert in all these areas. You must realize that from the beginning of the creation of the world, I had Betzalel in mind to perform the construction of the Mishkan and I will fill him with all the wisdom and skill necessary for the task. 

Ramban then states: “And our Rabbis have a teaching (Shemot Rabah 40,2) that God showed Moses the book of Adam and said to him ‘I set apart (appointed) each person at that time (time of Adam) for their purpose and I also set Betzalel apart for his purpose at that time.’” Every person has a unique purpose and role that God set aside at the beginning of time. They have been “named” for that purpose. No two people have exactly the same skill set and role to play in the world. We live in a society where everyone constantly compares their roles and what they are doing with everyone else. Social media has further exacerbated this tendency. The result is often envy and dissatisfaction. We have to learn to focus more on what we are doing and on using our own skill sets (with all our strengths and weaknesses) to serve God and fulfill our roles in the world. Others have a completely different role in life and they, too, have to fulfill their mission. Embracing our personal roles and using the package of resources God has given us, results in us being happy with our lot. We are then able to celebrate the success and path of others without envy and jealousy




By: Rabbi Barak Bar-Chaim

Parshat Terumah details the construction of the Mishkan (Tabernacle) and the vessels contained in the Mishkan (such as the Ark, Table, Candelabra, and Courtyard Altar)Parshat Tetzaveh, which follows Parshat Terumah, details the special clothing that the kohanim (priests) and kohen gadol (high priest) were required to wear while serving in the Mishkan. The Torah explains how the Divine Presence will dwell in the Mishkan and how the Mishkan will, thereby, be sanctified. The Torah then details the construction of one last vessel that was to be placed in the Mishkan, The Golden Altar. The Golden Altar was to be used to offer the daily incense offerings and not to be used for animal offerings.

Many commentators ask why The Golden Altar was not initially listed and described along with the Ark, Table, Candelabra, and Courtyard Altar. Sforno (Rabbi Ovadia Sfrono) and Ramban (Nachmanidies) explain that the purpose of The Golden Incense Altar was different from the purpose of all the other vessels of the Mishkan. All the other vessels were there to ensure the Divine Presence would dwell in the Mishkan. The Golden Incense Altar, on the other hand, was a response to the Divine Presence that dwelled in and sanctified the Mishkan.

Ramban then goes on to explain that the secret purpose of the Ketoret offering is to counter God’s attribute of justice/judgement. The Hebrew word for nose is Af, which is also the root of the Hebrew word Af, meaning anger. The pleasant smell of the incense offering was intended to counter the burning anger of the one nostril by filling the other nostril with a pleasant smell. Rebbi Nachman explains that the burning of the incense offering represents judgement, but the pleasant smell represents a spirit of charity and kindness. The message of the Ketoret offering is that we are able to mitigate negativity, idol worship, and judgement through a spirit of pleasant kindness and generosity. It is as if we declare before God: We know we are filled with physical desires, desires for wealth, negativity, etc., but we will mitigate and control that part of our nature through charity and kindness.’ This is the pleasant smell before God.

Rebbi Nachman explains further that this then becomes a source of great joy for man and God as is stated in Proverbs: “Ketoret (Incense offering) makes the heart joyous.” (Proverbs 22)

On a personal level, when we unite our burning desire for wealth with a spirit of generosity and kindness, we are happy with our lot in life and are able to rejoice. This is why Ketoret (Incense) means ‘connect’. Our fire (burning desire related to judgement) is tempered with our spirit of charity and kindness (pleasant smell). In the spirit of the festival of Purim, let us give gifts to the poor and presents to our friends.




By: Rabbi Barak Bar-Chaim

“Six days you shall work and perform all your labor, but the seventh day is a Sabbath to the Lord, your God; you shall perform no labor, neither you, your son, your daughter...” (Exodus 20, 9-10)

The intention of the Torah here is to establish the prohibition of performing labor (melachah – specific creative activities) on Shabbat. If so, the Torah should have simply stated: “On the seventh day labor is prohibited.” The preamble “Six days you shall work and perform all your labor” seems redundant?

The Kli Yakar explains that the Torah is not only teaching us how to behave on Shabbat, but is also teaching us how to behave during the week. He explains that the term work refers to the work of serving God and that the term labor refers to creative activities needed to provide our worldly needs.  The Torah is instructing us that, even during the weekdays, we are to see our service of God as primary and our worldly work as secondary. We need to do both, but our primary focus must always be on serving God. Whereas on Shabbat, we suspend all worldly work and focus entirely on the service of God. In fact, Rashi learns from the words “perform all your labor” that when Shabbat comes, one should see one’s worldly work as complete and, thus, not even think about it  on Shabbat.

Rebbi Nosson, in his epic work Likutei Halachot, gives a very insightful answer to the question at hand. He explains that, before the sin of Adam and Eve, mankind did not need to work. The Garden of Eden was a good and perfect place. Mankind simply had to pick fruit from the trees for their livelihood. After Adam and Eve sinned, the world lost its perfection. Human beings are now responsible for perfecting the world and restoring the original good. Creative work performed with honesty and integrity accomplishes this goal. In this sense, creative activity makes the world a better place and returns the original good (holiness) that was lost through mankind’s original sin. In this regard, our workday activity is also a holy endeavor, and the holiness we reveal during the week adds holiness to Shabbat and makes it even more special.

I would summarize the Kli Yakar and Rebbi Nosson’s messages as follows: When we prioritize the service of God in our lives, then even our worldly creative work becomes sanctified Godly service. When we live in this way, we are able to experience Shabbat (a day dedicated entirely to the direct service of God) on a much deeper level. 




By: Rabbi Barak Bar-Chaim

"The Lord said to Moses, Behold! I am going to rain down for you bread from heaven, and the people shall go out and gather what is needed for the day, so that I can test them, whether or not they will follow My Torah.” (Exodus 16:4)

The Torah describes the heavenly bread (Manna) as a test for the nation. A test, per definition, implies a level of difficulty and challenge. Surely, if we were all privileged enough to have the luxury of not having to work for a living, that would be a blessing. Where is the test? Where is the challenge? Additionally, why does the test of the Manna determine “…whether or not they will follow My Torah”?

Our commentators provide many insightful answers to these questions. I would like to suggest an answer that is hinted to in many of the commentaries. The great challenge of the Manna was relinquishing control and security. The Jewish People lost direct control of their livelihoods. The Manna could not be saved from one day to the next, and the people were left with no option but to rely on God to provide the Manna on the following day. Their financial destinies were completely out of their control and left to divine providence.

The Torah, per definition, implies that our portions in this world and the next world are linked to our observance of the Mitzvot and the resulting divine providence.  We do not understand God’s exact calculations in this regard, but, nonetheless, that is the way of the Torah. The test of the Manna was relinquishing one’s control and being dependent on God for one’s livelihood. Similarly, following the Torah commandments requires submission of our own will to the will of God and an acceptance that, based on divine providence, every person will receive one’s livelihood from God. We now understand why the above verse connects the test of the Manna to Torah observance in general.

Having God in our lives requires dependence, submission, reliance, trust, and relinquishing control. The test today is the same as it was 3,300 years ago. Are we up for the test?





By: Rabbi Barak Bar-Chaim

The Hebrew word for “belief” or ”faith is emuna. The Maharal points out that in the Book of Exodus, the Torah refers to the children of Israel having faith in three specific contexts. When Moses returns from Midian, he informs the Hebrew slaves that God sent him to redeem them from bondage in Egypt. The Torah records their response: “And the people believed, and they heard that the Lord had remembered the children of Israel and that He saw their affliction, and they kneeled and prostrated themselves.” (Exodus 4,31) The second reference is at the crossing of the Reed Sea, where the Torah states: “And they believed in God and in Moses His servant.” (Exodus 14,9) The third reference is at the giving of the Torah, where God tells Moses: “And also in you they will believe forever.” (Exodus 19,9)

The Maharal explains that the mention of emuna (belief) in these three specific contexts is not random. They refer to the three fundamental principles upon which religious belief is founded. The first reference refers to the belief in divine providence. Divine providence is the belief that God sees everything occurring throughout the universe, on both a national and individual level. Included in divine providence is not only the belief that God sees, but also the belief that God cares. This is characterized by the following: “And the people believed, and they heard that the Lord had remembered the children of Israel and that He saw their affliction, and they kneeled and prostrated themselves.” (Exodus 4,31)

The second fundamental belief is that there is no power, force, or aspect of the universe that has any control apart from God. God is the one and only omnipotent being. The Children of Israel realized this truth at the splitting of the Reed Sea. Hence, after the parting of the Reed Sea, the Torah testifies: “And they believed in God and in Moses His servant.” God is in control of both the sea and the dry land. No other force/god has any control/power over God. This is a fundamental belief, because an omnipresent God is somewhat meaningless if that God does not also have the power to intervene and assist.

The third belief is the belief that God gave the Torah through His servant, Moses, at Mt. Sinai. The entire Jewish nation only heard God giving the first two commandments directly. The rest of the Torah was dictated through Moses. The people did not need belief/faith concerning the first two commandments, because they heard them directly. The third belief is that the entire Torah we have was divinely dictated by Moses, the greatest prophet and God’s trusted servant. This is why God tells Moses: “And also in you they will believe forever.” (Exodus 19,9)

The three pilgrimage festivals correspond to these fundamental principles. Passover, with the culmination of the splitting of the Reed Sea, represents the principle of the existence of One, Omnipotent God, with absolute and complete control. Shavuot, of course, represents the belief that the Torah was given by God to Moses on Mt. Sinai. Sukkot represents the clouds of glory that surrounded the Jewish people as they traveled through the desert. This represents the belief in divine providence, that God watches over, cares, and is involved in our world. Our task on these festivals is to deepen our faithfulness to the fundamental principle associated with that festival. May we grow in our faithfulness to these fundamental truths.



By: Rabbi Barak Bar-Chaim

When Joseph was informed that his father (Jacob) was ill, he brought his two sons with him to visit his father. The Torah concludes the section dealing with Jacob’s blessing with the following verse:

“So he blessed them on that day, saying, ‘With you, Israel will bless, saying, “May God make you like Ephraim and like Menasheh,”’ and he placed Ephraim before Menasheh.” (Genesis 18:20)

Rashi quotes our sages and explains the words "With you, Israel will bless, saying, 'May God make you like Ephraim and like Menasheh,'" as follows: “Whoever wishes to bless his sons, will bless them with their blessing, and a man will say to his son, ‘May God make you like Ephraim and like Menasheh.’” This is the source for the universal custom on Friday night of blessing one’s sons using this very expression: “May God make you like Ephraim and like Menasheh.”

Jacob had many righteous grandchildren. Why do we specifically bless our children to be like Ephraim and Menasheh? The Netziv explains that Ephraim and Menasheh had distinctly different strengths and personalities. Ephraim was a great Torah scholar who cleaved (clung) to God. Menasheh was a worldly person, involved in assisting his family with their needs. We do not bless our children to make them fit into a certain mold. We bless our children so that they use their God-given personalities and strengths to serve God and help others. We declare that we value the contributions of both Ephraim and Menasheh. 

I once heard another beautiful explanation. Jacob’s grandchildren grew up in a sheltered, spiritual environment in the Land of Israel. Menasheh and Ephraim were the exception—they grew up with their father in Egypt, under the strong influence of Egyptian culture. Despite the challenges they faced, they remained upright, righteous individuals, servants of God, and dedicated to Jacob’s values and traditions. Therefore, we bless our children to be like Ephraim and Menasheh – to have the strength to withstand negative environmental influences and, thus, remain dedicated to Torah values and traditions.

May we and all our children be blessed with the strength to overcome negative influences and to use our unique talents and personalities in the service of God, the Jewish people, and all mankind.



By: Rabbi Barak Bar-Chaim

We light candles on Chanukah for eight nights. We are commemorating the miracle that, after the temple was recaptured from the Greek empire, a single sealed jug of pure olive oil was found and used to light the Menorah, which miraculously lasted for eight days. There was only a sufficient amount of oil to burn for one night, but, miraculously, the oil burned for eight days. Each night of Chanukah, we add an additional candle as we celebrate the historical miracle (until  we finally light eight candles, corresponding to the eight-day miracle).

Many commentators ask an intriguing question. There was sufficient oil to last for the first night. So why do we celebrate that night as part of the miracle of Chanukah? Only the last seven days were miraculous and, therefore, only those days should be commemorated with candle lighting. There are many different answers to this question. Some say that the miracle was the mere fact that a sealed jug of pure oil was found. I once heard a very simple yet profound answer to this question. Although the miracle was not as apparent on the first night, it was just as miraculous as the candle lighting on the eighth night. All the oil should have been consumed on the first night, but, behold, only 1/8 of the oil was consumed (leaving sufficient oil for the subsequent nights!).

Friends, so often we don’t realize the miracles that are occurring before our very eyes. We take the candle burning on the first night for granted and, therefore, fail to see its miracle. We take so much in our lives for granted and fail to pay attention to the wondrous and miraculous nature of everything around us. The miracle of being alive, being able to walk, and the gift of vision are just some of the miraculous daily occurrences we take for granted. We conclude the Al Hanisim prayer on Chanukah with: “...And they established these days to gives thanks and praise to Your great name.” Let us pay attention to the miracles that constantly surround us and give thanks and praise for all our blessings



By: Rabbi Barak Bar-Chaim

The Hebrew word for “Jew” is “Yehudi” and it stems from the Hebrew name Yehudah (Judah). The term Yehudi (Jew), as opposed to the term Yisrael (Israelite), is not a new term. In fact, the term is used repeatedly in The Book of Esther, which dates back to well over 2,300 years ago.  Yehudah (Judah) was only one of the twelve tribes of Israel and it is rather puzzling that the entire nation, comprised of these twelve tribes, should collectively be referred to as his descendants, Yehudim.

Perhaps the key lies in the origin of Yehudah’s name. Yehudah was Leah’s fourth child. Upon his birth, she pronounced: “This time I will give thanks to God.” Why does Leah only feel the need to give thanks to God upon the birth of her fourth child? Surely, she would have been grateful to God for giving her each of her first three children as well? Rashi explains that Leah gave thanks when she delivered her fourth son, because she felt that she had received more than her share. Jacob’s four wives knew by way of prophecy that Jacob would have twelve sons that would form the Jewish nation. By rights, each of Jacob’s wives should, therefore, give birth to three boys. Once Leah had four sons, she realized that she had received more than her allotted portion. Thus, she gave thanks to God.

We learn from this that gratitude and thanks stem from people feeling that they are receiving something that they are not entitled to. An attitude of entitlement is diametrically opposed to an attitude of gratitude. I would suggest that perhaps we are all called Yehudim, because the ultimate mission of all the tribes of Israel is to realize that, in truth, we deserve nothing, and, therefore, thank God for everything. When we genuinely understand our positions as finite, fallible human beings created through the tremendous benevolence of the infinite, kind, and omnipotent Creator of the entire universe, we consider everything we have, including our very lives, as a Divine gift.

On this Thanksgiving holiday, let us work on internalizing the realization that we are entitled to nothing at all and, therefore, manifest tremendous feelings of gratitude for all our blessings and gifts.

Chayei Sarah/Toldot


By: Rabbi Barak Bar-Chaim

Parshat Chayei Sarah describes how Abraham sought a burial place for his wife, Sarah, after her passing. He approached the local inhabitants saying: "I am a stranger and an inhabitant with you. Give me burial property with you, so that I may bury my dead from before me."(Genesis 23:4) Abraham’s preamble of “I am a stranger and an inhabitant with you” requires further explanation. If Abraham is a stranger, then he is not an inhabitant and vice-versa. Rashi explains that the simple meaning is that Abraham was appealing to his neighbors to provide a burial plot for his wife. He explains to them that although he is a foreigner, he has become a fellow citizen, and is, therefore, deserving of burying his deceased wife in his new land.   

Rabbi Joseph Ber Soloveitchik explains Abraham’s preamble differently. Abraham feels it necessary to explain his need to have a separate, dedicated burial spot for his family member. Abraham does so by explaining his nuanced identity. On the one hand, he is now a citizen of the land, a contributing and caring member of the broader society. Indeed, he is an inhabitant, a citizen. On the other hand, he and his family have their own unique religious beliefs and practices, to which they are to be fully committed.  Proper Jewish burial must be done separately in accordance with various traditions and practices. In this sense, Abraham is a stranger.            

Abraham, often thought of as the first Jew, teaches us the complex identity of the Jew amongst the peoples of the world. The Jew is to be a model, caring and contributing citizen of the world. But the Jew is also to be committed to Judaism and its religious observances, which are unique and different from the practices of other nations of the world. In this sense, the Jew is a stranger. Rabbi Lord Jonathan Sacks, of blessed memory, modeled this nuanced identity perhaps more perfectly than anyone else in our generation. He positively impacted all humanity in the most profound way. He was a citizen of the world, spreading positivity, hope, and blessing to all human beings. Yet, he was also a stranger, a man of deep faith committed to Jewish learning, practices, and traditions. He transitioned between these two identities with tremendous nobility and dignity, influencing all with his brilliant mind, unique erudite style, kind heart, and love of all of God’s creatures.

Let us attempt to model the ways of Rabbi Lord Jonathan Sacks, of blessed memory, and may his soul be elevated in Gan Eden. 

Lech Lecha/Vayera


By: Rabbi Barak Bar-Chaim

And it came to pass after these things, that God tested Abraham, and He said to him, Abraham, and he said, Here I am. And He said, Please take your son, your only one, whom you love, yea, Isaac, and go away to the land of Moriah and bring him up there for a burnt offering on one of the mountains, of which I will tell you.’” (Genesis 22, 1-2)

The Torah describes how God tested Abraham by commanding him to offer up his beloved son Isaac. The narrative then describes how Isaac went with his father, lay down on the alter, and was willing to allow his father to take his life in the service of God. Isaac was thirty-seven years old at the time and was quite capable of refusing his fathers wishes. The Beit Halevi, therefore, wonders why the Torah emphasizes this episode as a test for Abraham. Surely, it was an even greater test for Isaac?

The Beit Halevi explains that, while Isaac was indeed tested, the test for Abraham was far greater. The Beit Halevi further explains that it is easier to give up your life sanctifying God’s name than it is to live your life sanctifying God’s name. Abraham would be performing a mammoth act, an act he would have to live with every single day for the rest of his life. The Beit Halevi explains that there are many people that would allow their lives to be taken rather than submitting to idolatry. However, these very same people would not be willing to make the sacrifices necessary to sanctify God’s name by earning a living in an honest and ethical fashion. It is more difficult to sanctify God’s name knowing you will have to live with the consequences in this world than to die in the sanctification of God’s name!

God’s command to Abraham, to bring his child as an offering to God, was a one-time event (see Rashi who says this was never commanded, but only Abraham’s interpretation). In general, human sacrifice is completely abhorrent in the Torah’s view. Rabbi Eliyahu Dessler explains that the sacrifices that are most dear to God are the free-willed sacrifices we make as living human beings. Terminating human life, whether our own lives or the lives of others, is murder and robs us of the greatest service of God, the service of free-willed human beings who live with the consequences of their actions. Let us strengthen our resolve to use our free will to sanctify Gods name and, in so doing, merit life in this world and the next world.



By: Rabbi Barak Bar-Chaim

The Torah tells us of a time that all the inhabitants of the world spoke one language. They settled in a valley in Babylon (Shinar) and said to one another: "Come, let us build ourselves a city and a tower with its top in the heavens, and let us make ourselves a name, lest we be scattered upon the face of the entire earth." God disapproves of their plan, mixes up their languages so that they cannot understand one another, and scatters them upon the face of the earth.

The strange thing about this narrative is that the text does not state what exactly God disapproves of. The people, seemingly, wanted to prevent their scattering and create a unified existence. Is that not a noble aim? Rashi quotes the Midrash that further clarifies their intentions. They said, “Once every 1656 years the heavens disintegrate just like they did at the time of the great flood, let us support the heavens.” This Midrash is also perplexing. Were they scientifically out of touch to such a degree that they considered supporting the heavens to prevent a flood?

The Telzer Rov, Rabbi Yehudah Leib Bloch, sheds light on this mystifying narrative. Feelings of insecurity and vulnerability have plagued mankind from time immemorial. Natural disasters, sickness, disease, viruses, and plagues are just some of the challenges to our sense of security and stability. At that time in history, humankind was feeling particularly vulnerable, with the flood that wiped out Earth’s inhabitants still fresh in their minds. Hence, they devised a rational plan to overcome natural threats. They realized that if they separated from one another, they would be more vulnerable. Whereas, if they ensured unity and pooled together all of their scientific knowledge and resources, then they could overcome any natural threat. This is what the Midrash is conveying to us. They wanted to seek a scientific understanding of weather patterns and natural phenomenon and, in doing so, prevent another catastrophic flood.

God disapproved of their endeavor, because they viewed earthly occurrences as completely natural and out of God’s control. They viewed the flood as a natural phenomenon, rather than a divine consequence of immoral human conduct. We all want security, and we are even commanded to use all the natural means at our disposal to protect ourselves from illness and natural disasters. Humans who have solved every natural dilemma and feel perfectly secure without divine assistance, will forget the Master Conductor behind nature. God will, therefore, never allow human beings to be completely secure. God’s will is that we respond to our vulnerability by turning to Him in prayer and, simultaneously, using all available natural means to protect ourselves.

Perhaps, as mankind made technological and scientific advancements, we had begun to feel perfectly secure and confident that we could overcome every natural threat. Perhaps we had begun to forget that there is a Master Conductor of the universe. Perhaps we had slipped into the very same trap as the generation of the Tower of Babel? If so, let COVID-19 be a wakeup call for us that God, in His great kindness, will never allow human beings to feel completely secure. Let us know that we are all vulnerable and let us turn to God alone for ultimate safety, security, and protection.  

Sukkot/Shmini Atzeret/Simchat Torah


By: Rabbi Barak Bar-Chaim

The past six months have been tumultuous. We have watched the coronavirus wreak havoc throughout the world. As we feel things are getting better, an outbreak of the virus appears somewhere else. Eretz Yisrael (Israel), in particular, enters the Sukkot holiday in a severe lockdown due to the increased morbidity of coronavirus. May Hashem remove this plague speedily from his inheritance. In the meanwhile, we are all faced with uncertainty and insecurity. The enemy is invisible and not fully understood, and we find ourselves hoping and praying for a vaccine to stop the virus in its tracks. As we approach Sukkot (Z’man Simchateinu or The Time of Our Joy), we wonder how we can be happy at this timea time filled with so much insecurity and instability.

On Sukkot (Z’man Simchateinu), we leave our secure permanent homes and dwell in temporary dwellings exposed to the elements. Would we not be more joyous in the setting of the security of our permanent homes?

It seems that the message of Sukkot is that, while financial security and stability certainly contribute to one’s contentment, true happiness does not result from physical protection or financial stability. Indeed, it is possible to be happy and joyous while facing uncertainty and insecurity. How is this possible? How can one be happy while vulnerable to the elements?

When one breaks it down, one realizes that our vulnerability and insecurity stem from the fear that something adverse/bad will happen to us.  In our permanent homes, this fear largely dissipates and we feel safe and secure. However, even this safety and security is not absolute. Unfortunately, disease and illness pierces through the solid walls of homes as well. There are individuals who never left their homes during the lockdown who still contracted COVID-19. There is no absolute security and guarantee of anything in life. If security and certainty are pre-requisites for happiness, then true happiness is largely unattainable. There will always be a background fear of something adverse/ bad happening to us or our close ones.

The goal of the High Holy Days is to empower us with the knowledge that, ultimately, we are completely in God’s hands. Nothing adverse/bad can happen to us without God’s will. God is good and, therefore, all of our challenges, trials and tribulations do not randomly happen to us—they are divinely decreed by God (who has our best interests at heart). God is the cause of everything and the answer to everything. We turn to Him for assistance in alleviating difficult circumstances and for protection. We can always turn to the source of everything for strength and support. We are commanded by God to take natural steps to protect ourselves from harm. We must wear masks and social distance as advised by scientists, because it is a Divine command to do so. However, ultimately, true security is not attained through these natural measures. True security and happiness stem from completely accepting our vulnerable and insecure lives, armed with the knowledge that we are in the hands of an accessible Father and King. In our times, where our human insecurity and vulnerability have been brought to the fore, let this be our source of joy on this Sukkot holiday.  

Rosh Hashanah/Shabbat Shuva Ha'Azinu/Yom Kippur


By: Rabbi Barak Bar-Chaim

Our Rabbis refer to the holiday we are about to celebrate as Rosh Hashanah – the New Year or, more accurately, “the head of the year”. In our liturgy, we also refer to this  holiday as Yom Hadin – the Day of Judgement.

The biblical name for Rosh Hashanah is Yom T’ruah, which is often translated as “the day of blowing the Shofar”. But what exactly is T’ruah? And why does the Torah choose this name for the holiday?

The Talmud explains that the word T’ruah is translated into Aramaic as Yevava (to cry) and that we are obligated to blow the Shofar in what we call a T’ruah – a crying sound. There are different types of crying, which is why we blow the Shvarim, the T’ruah, and the Shvarim T’ruah. We blow a T’kiah sound before and after these blasts. On Rosh Hashanah, the Torah is commanding us to blow crying notes. Why are we instructed to do this on Rosh Hashanah?

Rav Hershel Schachter explains that everyone agrees that there is a Torah command to pray in troublesome times. He explains further that, because Rosh Hashanah is the Day of Judgement (a day when we are judged by God and our entire futures are in the balance), Rosh Hashanah is an Eit Tzarah – a troublesome time. Therefore, there is a biblical obligation to pray to God on Rosh Hashanah.


Rav Shachter explains that Rav Soloveitchik would quote the following Gemarah: “Rabbi Elazar says: Since the day the Temple was destroyed the gates of prayer were locked, and prayer is not accepted as it once was, as it is stated in lament of the Temple’s destruction: ‘Though I plead and call out, He shuts out my prayer’ (Lamentations 3:8). Yet, despite the fact that the gates of prayer were locked with the destruction of the Temple, the gates of tears were not locked, and one who cries before God may rest assured that his prayers will be answered, as it is stated: ‘Hear my prayer, Lord, and give ear to my pleading, keep not silence at my tears’ (Psalms 39:13) (Berachot 35b)”.

We see that prayers with tears and crying are so powerful that King David says confidently that God will not remain silent when he prays with tears. We have a special obligation to pray on Rosh Hashanah and have the Shofar’s cries to transform our prayers to the level of prayers with tears.


Friends, our goal on Rosh Hashanah is to realize that we stand in judgement before the Master of the Universe, to understand that our lives, the lives of our loved ones, the welfare of our nation and all humanity are in the balance – who will live and who will die – who will be sick and who will be well – who will be wealthy and who will be poor. Our response is to pray with sincerity and the crying notes of the Shofar before God.  In that merit, may we all be signed and sealed for a good, healthy, wealthy, and successful year.

Mon, November 29 2021 25 Kislev 5782