I recently took out a sefer – holy book – that I studied in the summer of 1980 in order to certify as a Shochet – a ritual slaughterer. I was surprised to find that it was a far more enjoyable study and challenge than the first time. The book is highly technical and my chavrusa, or study partner, at the time, a good friend, was more interested in adventure than technical details. His strong feelings influenced me. We spent 12 hours each day together, studying, practicing sharpening our knives, and standing with our rebbi, Rabbi Katz z’l, as he shechted more than a hundred animals each day. You can’t spend so much time with someone, especially a good friend, without being influenced. So, I didn’t love the Tevuot Shor thirty years ago, but, boy, do I love it now.

I can recall exactly what I felt the first time around. I have changed. My learning has changed. My thinking has changed. Everything has changed, but the months spent with B. studying this holy book, left their mark.

My love for my favorite masechata – Temurah – is also an expression of the magical learning I had with Y, my chavrusa at the time, as is my love for Kiddushin. Ketubot resonates deeper than any other tractate; a reflection of the period of my Rebbi’s greatest influence on me.

When I open a Chumash, Ramchal, or Rambam, I immediately associate the learning with my father. My grandfather speaks to me through the pages of the Tur. At least fifty times each week I open a sefer of one of the great Chassidic Masters, and I hear the voice of Reb Shlomo. The list goes on.

A sefer is not just a sefer; it is also a collection of voices and experiences.

My learning experience is evolving as I strive to attach closer to God. I increasingly feel His Presence when I learn, and then I understand why Sinai was so important. Our first experience of all of Torah was impressed onto our souls for we studied directly with the Melamaid Torah l’amo Yisrael, the Torah teacher of His nation, Israel.

If we just listen carefully enough to those impressions on our souls we will recall that first taste of studying Torah. We will hear His voice in every word and thought.

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The story is told of a young man who came to the Chatam Sofer requesting approbation from the great rabbi for his scholarly book. Rabbi Sofer read the book and responded, “I don’t mind when you quote my words as your own, but please, don’t put your words in my mouth!”

I always wondered whether Joseph’s brothers were actually quoting Jacob when, upon retuning to Egypt from Jacob’s funeral, they told Joseph, “Your father gave orders before his death, saying: Thus shall you say to Joseph, ‘O please forgive the spiteful deed of your bothers and their sin for they have done you evil.’” Were they putting their words in Jacob’s mouth? Would Jacob have approved of a lie after they had lied to him for so many years?

The Talmud (Yebamot 65b) and Midrash (Tanchuma 7) describe this as an instance of when one may alter the truth for the sake of peace. Rashi explains that they dispatched the sons of Bilhah, with whom Joseph had always been very friendly, to tell him this story about Jacob’s secret instructions. After the emissaries delivered their message, the rest of the brothers came to him.

Let’s picture the scene: The sons of Bilhah, Joseph’s erstwhile “friends,” who did not raise a hand to protect or save him, take advantage of their friendship to “alter the truth” and convey this secret message from Jacob. Joseph, who spent a great deal of private time with his father, and had never heard a word from his father regarding his 22 year disappearance, “believes’ his friendly brothers enough so that the remaining brothers can approach him.

I suspect that the message was actually, “This is what your father would have wanted us to do.” They carefully listened to the words of reproach intermingled with Jacob’s blessings, and they inferred that Jacob wanted them to address the issue.

Bilhah’s sons approached first as friends in order to acknowledge that they failed him as friends. They were not preparing the way for the remaining brothers; they were addressing their own specific sin against Joseph. The entire extended family was dependent on Joseph’s friendship and love in order to eat. The foremost issue on their minds was their failure as friends.

Joseph immediately understood that they were not directly quoting Jacob, as Bilhah’s sons expected. The most obvious issue was not the most important. They would eventually discuss his sale into slavery, but they understood that they first had to address everyone’s failure as brothers, and Bilhah’s sons as friends.

It takes great skill and courage to apologize, but it takes great wisdom to apologize correctly and discuss the issues underlying the obvious. Bilhah’s sons, and all of his brothers approached Joseph with unbelievable wisdom; they ‘altered the truth” to admit that they lied to Jacob. They approached in stages, dealing with all the layers of their sin against Joseph.

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When I was a kid we had a simple but profound way to deal with mistakes; “Do Over!” If only life were so easy.

I want a “Do Over!” I wrote a blog, Careful With My Words, complaining about all the spammers who regularly attack the blog. I was becoming so frustrated and bothered that I decided to take the Uncle Noach approach and ask, “What is God trying to teach me?” I tried to find something good in all the spam. Well, I found it, and now I want a “Do Over” from that blog of complaint.

Practically ever spam begins with words of praise: “I find much 2 lurn frum yur writeengs.” “Yu r grait thinker!” “I was profoundly moved by your insightful words and have decided to religiously follow all your writings. Try Viagra!” “I have shared your essay with all my friends and they are now devoted followers. You can buy all your prescription drugs online.” Of course, there are the many spams with Cyrillic, Chinese and Korean letters, but I am certain that they are equally effusive with their words of praise.

I now love reading the spam. I love the praise. I have no problem pressing “spam,” but their generous words dilute my frustration.

Today I received a different sort of spam: “I thought long and hard about your insight but find I cannot possibly agree. You can find vacations online at …” Can you believe that I actually hesitated before pressing the spam icon? The spammer caught my attention. I even reread the original essay to see if I still agreed with what I wrote!

Praise is a great attention grabber. A respectful disagreement works as well if not better.

Joseph’s brothers perceived that their father was dead, and they said, “Perhaps Joseph will nurse hatred against us and then he will surely repay us all the evil that we did him.” (Genesis 50:15) The brothers catch Joseph’s attention by paying him a magnificent compliment: “He will nurse his hatred against us,” implies that they believed that Joseph did not harbor any hatred against them while Jacob was alive. They acknowledge that Joseph was sincere when he assured them that he only focused on the fact that “The Lord sent me here to feed you.”

Although they did not articulate this, it came through in their words. “Your father gave orders before his death, saying, ‘Thus shall you say to Joseph, ‘O please forgive the spiteful deed of your brothers and their sin for they have done you evil.’ So, now, please forgive the spiteful deed of the servants of your father’s Lord.’ “

Pure genius! “Your father,” is an acknowledgment that Joseph was Jacob’s favorite son. They caught Joseph’s attention with their opening word.

Jacob ordered them to ask forgiveness, but they added, ‘the servants of your father’s Lord.” They are repeating Joseph’s idea that it was the Lord, Who manipulated all the events.

They included acknowledgements of Joseph’s ideas in their request for forgiveness. That really caught his attention.

It is probably even more difficult to grab the attention of someone from whom you must ask forgiveness than it is for a spammer to catch mine. (I’m a sucker for praise and a good argument.) Joseph’s brothers grabbed his attention in a most magnificent manner; their quest for forgiveness began with an acknowledgement of who he was, and what Joseph believed. They couldn’t request a “Do Over” but they could grab Joseph’s attention and repair very old wounds.

So, I’ll use the same strategy: I acknowledge your words of praise, even appreciate them. I’m sorry that I have to put you in the spam file, but thanks anyways.” (Delete)

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What did Joseph feel at the moment that he revealed himself to his brothers? Was there a sense of relief? Was there anyone else in the world with whom he could be himself? Were there others who could understand Yosef as a human being, the son of Jacob, the dreamer, the Jew, better than his brothers?

Joseph functioned at incredibly high levels for at least nine years as viceroy of Egypt. He had to live as an Egyptian. He had to live as royalty. He could not ever share with anyone that he had always dreamed of achieving this position. He could not admit to anyone that one of his dreams was realized when his brothers bowed to him as they came for bundles of grain. There were innumerable layers and levels to Joseph that could only be shared with his brothers.

Perhaps this is why he can say, “I am Joseph!” only to his brothers. He was not Joseph until he was unmasked.

Is there anyone in our lives to whom we can say, “I am me?”

Perhaps this is why the Sages explain “Vaigash” – the approach at the beginning of the portion – as a form of prayer: We can use prayer to unmask ourselves and say to the One, Who truly understands, “I am me!”

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I have much to say to many people, conversations yet to happen. I have thanks, regrets, anger and questions that are waiting for the right opportunity. I have run through some of these conversations for quite a while. I have rehearsed what I want to say to many people, and I am simply biding my time until I have the right opening.

It seems clear that Joseph planned for his first meeting with the brothers who sold him into slavery. I imagine Joseph rehearsing innumerable times over two decades for that first conversation. Did the brothers ever discuss what they would say to their victim? Did they ever even consider what to say? It appears that not. How sad.

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I turned 50 years old last night, the fourth night of Chanukah. Debbie had presented me with a list of extravagant gluten-free desserts and offered to make the one of my choice. Having difficulty with decisions regarding Debbie’s treats, I told her that for such an important birthday, it would only be proper for her to make all of the desserts offered. I was joking, kind of, but Debbie as always, generous beyond measure, agreed to make all of them and to invite a few of my favorite people to share my special treats.

The few people turned out to be more than 65. Friends, more like siblings than friends, flew in from Los Angeles, Boca Raton, Palm Beach and St. Louis. One has been a friend/brother since 1974. There were people from practically every stage of my adult life.

Each and every person there had gone out of their way to help me in good times and bad, and had shared in joyous times, illness, suffering, and life-changing decisions. I would not be where or who I am if not for them.

I was so moved by the people who cared enough to come and share the moment, and steal some of my desserts,

which they claimed were “just,” (sorry! I couldn’t resist) that I barely had time to eat any of my treats. (I did offer to manage all the leftovers, and have been granted the 24 hours of my birthday to add a few pounds.)

We were gathered in our living room, where we also host a minyan for Rosh Hashana and Yom Kippur. Just before the obligatory speech I recalled the last time I had spoken in the room, just before Neilah.

At that time I reflected on gates that are in the process of closing. Before and during Neilah, we tend to picture ourselves standing outside the gates, and their closing as a loss of opportunity. What if, I asked, rather than standing outside the gates, we were standing inside? We could picture the gates as protecting us and all we gained over Rosh Hashana and Yom Kippur.

I always picture the closing gates of Neilah as holding me in the courtyards of prayer and Teshuva. I don’t see them as shutting me out, because I have learned through, what many consider, great suffering, that God never closes the Heavenly Gates before us.

Gates represent new opportunities. A slave, who refuses to accept an opportunity for freedom, has his ear pieced on a gate! The Heavenly gates close us in when we need protection, but they constantly open toward more opportunities.

50 represents the 50 Gates of Binah – Understanding. Turning 50 is all about recognizing when the Gates of Opportunity are open wide, inviting us to step through them into even better places.

I have walked through many gates, but I was never alone. Each one of the people who came to steal some of my desserts, and the many who could not come but were there in spirit, had held my arm and helped me walk through every one of those gates.

Thanks for being there with me and for me. I see the gates opening once again: Walk with me.

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My life has drastically changed over the past twenty years. I have made important, transformative choices that have affected very aspect of my life.

My relationships changed as a consequence of those choices. I became a different person and began looking for relationships that would reflect those changes. And yet…

There are times I find myself missing some of those old relationships. It is hard to let go even when there is clarity of purpose and a commitment to integrity.

Rachel observed her husband and understood that although he acted with clarity of purpose, he was still bothered by accusations of being a ‘Yaakov,” a trickster. Laban did not allow his son-in-law to forget Jacob’s ‘theft’ of Eisav’s blessings.

Jacob had changed and moved on, but the tentacles of the past inhibited him from being completely himself. So, Rachel decided to force a confrontation between her husband and father. She stole Laban’s idols, knowing full well that he would accuse Jacob.

It took time for Jacob to stand up to Laban. He first allowed him to search through all his things. Finally, he stood up and fought for his reputation, proving his honesty and integrity. Jacob was free of the accusations of the past, and now, only now, was he prepared to confront his most dangerous enemy of all, his brother.

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My father zt”l always told me that a person “who is a person who truly honors his parents will have good children”. He also told me, in 1964, that one of his students, D, practiced extraordinary honor of his parents. So, keeping the two ideas in mind, I was excited to meet D’s son. If D was truly a master of honoring his parents, and I believe my father, his son must be a very special person. I had never met him, but I couldn’t wait to see how good a person he is.

He’s not. He went out of his way to try to publicly insult me. I have heard so much worse, that I didn’t feel insulted. My only thought was of my father.

It is unusual for me to feel that my father was mistaken about a Torah based idea or an observation of human behavior. So, I assumed that I was mistaken, and the son I perceived as a very rude and obnoxious person, must actually be a good guy. I was willing to consider his rude behavior as a reaction to me. (I’ve often been told that I bring out the worst in some people.)

How could I find out?

At least I had some lessons from another ‘father,’ Isaac, the Patriarch, as how to handle such people: “Abimelech went to him from Gerar with a group of his friends and Phicol, general of his legion. Isaac said to him, “Why have you come to me? You hate me.” (Genesis 26:26-27)

I could do as Isaac did and say, “You hate me. Why?” Abimelech was not insulted by Isaac’s forthrightness: “We have indeed seen that God is with you.” Yes, I hate you, but, hey, you have God on your side, so let’s cooperate!

No matter how rude this fellow was to me, he couldn’t be worse than Abimelech.

I used the Isaac approach: “You hate me. You attempted to publicly insult me. Please tell me why.”

It didn’t work. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said with pure venom as he walked away.

Is it possible that both Isaac and my father were wrong? Inconcievable!

I cannot blame this person’s mother; she is an even finer person than her husband. I thought back on my father’s words and found the answer. He differentiated between a person who practiced all the behaviors of Kibud Av v’Eim – honoring parents – and a person who is a person whose essence is to honor his parents. The actions do not necessarily change a person’s essence. A person may do everything according to the letter of the law, but not be a person who honors his parents. It’s like the person who performs all the actions of love without really loving his wife. She will know, and parents know when their child honors them and when he is simply going through the motions.

I thought back on my father’s description of D: “practiced extraordinary honor of his parents,” he did not say that D was a true honorer of his parents. No wonder his son is so rude! I can only claim to be a person who honors his father, not just in action but in essence, by being more careful in listening to his words.

What about Isaac? I still believe in being straightforward about such things, and not pretending that I am a friend of someone who is actually an enemy. But, Isaac did not go to Abimelech. He waited for the king to come to him. I should not have approached D’s son with my question. I should have been more careful in listening to Isaac, and waited for the young man to come to me. I can become a child whose essence honors Isaac only when I am more careful in following his lead.

I’ll try.
Rabbeinu Yonah: Honoring Parents & Tools For Honoring Parents
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I was called to perform an emergency Taharah – the ritual cleansing and preparation of a body for burial. I was the rabbi of a large congregation, and although I had participated in Taharot in this funeral home, I had never been summoned for an “emergency Taharah.”

The manager of the funeral home, a friend, walked me to the door of the Taharah room but refused to enter with me. I peeked in and saw that there was a tiny body under the sheet, and assumed that the man, who had suffered the terrible loss of a son-in-law and grandchild in an auto accident, could not bear to see a dead baby.

I prepared everything I would need and uncovered the body. Whatever it was under the sheet barely appeared to be human. I was horrified by what I saw. I couldn’t perform a Taharah on a body that horrified me. My job was to honor the body, and I would not be able to honor a “thing” that I could not even bear to look at. I pulled the sheet back and tried to refocus myself so I could pay honor to the person, not “thing”.

I recalled Chapter 16 of Ezekiel, in which God describes the beginning of His relationship with the nation of Israel: “As for your birth, in the day you were born your navel was not cut, neither were you washed in water to cleanse you; you weren’t salted at all, nor swaddled at all. No eye pitied you, to do any of these things to you, to have compassion on you; but you were cast out in the open field, for that your person was abhorred, in the day that you were born. When I passed by you, and saw you wallowing in your blood, I said to you, Though you are in your blood, live; yes, I said to you, Though you are in your blood, live.”

I checked the record of the deceased and learned that the baby was male and had lived for six weeks. I uncovered the boy, and began to speak to him. “Your soul has been perfected and is gloriously beautiful. Although others may not appreciate your beauty; you are now with God, Who sees you as gorgeous.” I spoke to him each step of the Taharah, explaining to him what I was doing and why.

When I finally placed the baby in his coffin, I stepped from the room. The funeral director was waiting for me, and without looking at me in the eye, informed me that the parents were waiting to speak with the rabbi who had performed the Taharah. I assumed that they wanted to thank me, and I assured him that it was not necessary. “It is,” was all he said.

We walked into a room and he introduced me as the rabbi who just completed the Taharah. The mother leapt at me and began hitting me; “Why? Why? Why would God do this to me? Why would He place such a horrible thing inside of me?” Her husband and the funeral director wanted to pull her away, but I signaled them to stop.

By the time she collapsed on the floor, my glasses were broken and I had a black eye. The mother was on the floor in front of me, and I sat next to her and said, “I told your son how beautiful he is to God. I told him that his soul was perfected during his short and painful life and now was shining as the brightness of the highest heavens before his Creator.”
“My son?” “Yes,” I answered, “your beautiful little boy.”

“No one ever called him a person before. Everyone described him as an ‘it.’”

“He wasn’t an it. There are verses in Ezekiel that describe him,” and I read the verses to her.

The experience shook me to the core. The baby was difficult to see and touch. The mother’s pain was palpable. But I was most shaken by the realization that when I chose, I could see the ugliest person as beautiful. Why can I not do so when dealing with those who are living?

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I prefer walking in the park to using the treadmill in the gym. The walk is more pleasant. I think better and I can measure my progress for myself rather than watch the computerized report of how far I walked torturously increase at a spiteful pace. Three miles takes twice as long according to the treadmill computer.

There is another reason why I prefer the park: I am among the youngest and slimmest of the park walkers. Let’s just say that this is not true in the gym.

Debbie insisted that I go to the gym, so I sucked in my belly and headed for the treadmill. I did my best not to look at any of the younger, thinner bellies, so I decided to watch the giant television screen in front of me.

They were broadcasting a football game and I found it unbearable and boring, until…

Until I noticed that some of the players had bellies far larger than mine. They get paid a fortune to play even though they are so, well, I hate to use the word, fat.

The giant and very thin and muscular man on the next treadmill asked me, “Hey man! Why are you smiling like that?”

“I just realized that I could play in the NFL! But no tackling. I have a bad back and I don’t like all that pushing and shoving.”

“Man, they’re not gonna take an old guy like you, especially if you won’t allow any tackling,” he said.

“They’ll have to do it on my terms, or I won’t play.” I was joking, of course, but he took me seriously. “What makes you think they’ll take you on your terms? What’s happening to this gym? They’re allowing wierdos in here!”

Little does he know that it’s a pasuk!

Abraham wanted to purchase a burial plot for Sarah. He didn’t own any land, and people of those times were particular about burying strangers in their community plots. However, “You are a prince of God in our midst; in the choicest of our burial places bury your dead, any of us will not withhold his burial place from you, from burying your dead,” (Genesis 23:6) was their incredibly generous offer.

It wasn’t enough for Abraham. The people of Heth were willing to break all their rules for this prince of God, and allow him to bury his dead in the family plot of his choice. The honor of having Abraham’s family buried in their community was to great to resist.

How did Abraham respond to their generosity? “If it is truly your will to bury my dead from before me, heed me, and interceded for me with Ephron son of Zohar. Let him grant me the Cave of Machpelah which is his, on the edge of his field; let him grant it to me for its full price, in your midst, as an estate for a burial site.” (23:8-9)

In other words, “Thank you very much for your generous offer, but I don’t want to be buried in one of your plots. I want my own.” Abraham wanted things on his terms. He wanted to buy a part of their village and make it his own, no longer part of their village.

It happens again: He sends his servant Eliezer back to the family he left many years earlier to find a wife for Isaac. Abraham left his land, his birthplace and his family and now he needed them again. He didn’t bother to go himself; he sent his servant.

How did his brother, Betuel, feel about Abraham’s needs? His brother had broken from his family and now that he was looking for a wife for his son, he needed them again. He couldn’t bother to visit his nephew and family. He sent a servant. Abraham seems to want things on his terms.

It seems strange that the master of Chesed – ‘kin’dness – related to ‘kin’ship – treating everyone as kin, or family – would seem to deal so poorly with his family.

One thing is absolutely clear: Abraham knew what he wanted and what was necessary for the future nation to develop.

I have observed numerous people torn by their Chesed obligations. There are people who open their homes to everyone despite the financial and emotional strain. Women do not want to say no when their husbands want to invite guests, even if having company will be a burden.

Abraham is teaching us that we must have clarity BEFORE we do acts of Chesed. The Torah does not demand that we martyr ourselves for others. Chesed must be directed by our long-term goals and objectives for ourselves and the recipients.

Abraham was a master of Chesed because his Chesed was not a burden but a path to accomplish his goal of emulating and attaching to God. The man of Chesed went to war when necessary. He stood up to the people of Heth in order to purchase what was necessary for the future of Israel. He sent Eliezer to his family because that was what was needed at the moment.

Abraham would not compromise on his terms. His Chesed was directed. As should our Chesed as well.

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