Are You Honest About Your Weight
The Beis Medrash | August 25, 2023
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Are You Honest About Your Weight

The Beis Medrash | December 31, 2025

Harav Yosef Chaim Sonnenfeld, Chief Rabbi of the Eidah Hacharedis in Eretz Yisroel under the British mandate, was once sitting at a Yid’s Shabbos table when he saw the host’s young child transgress a Shabbos prohibition. Instinctively, the rov shouted, “It’s Shabbos!” The child’s father considered the rov’s reaction excessive and protested that the child was too young to appreciate Shabbos and its laws. A short while later, the same child made his way to the china closet and found a nice crystal vase, a family heirloom, to play with. The father caught sight of this and screamed, “No! That’s Elter Zaide’s!”

The rov turned to the father, “Why are you reacting so strongly? He’s young and doesn’t yet grasp the value of a family heirloom.”

Parshas Ki Seitzei concludes with the lo sa’seh against using dishonest weights and measures, followed by the mitzvah to remember what Amalek did to us on our way out of Mitzrayim, and the commandment to destroy them.

Chazal explain that this is actually a sequence; the punishment for not having honest weights is what caused the attack of Amalek. But what’s the connection between this specific sin and being attacked by Amalek?

During the farbrengen of Purim 5722 (1962), the Rebbe explained this in terms of our personal avodah. Every day, we use "weights and measures" to determine our priorities. For instance, asked the Rebbe, do we spend more money on building nice yeshivos, or nice colleges? What do we celebrate more, a child’s recital of Shakespeare, or of, l’havdil, a blatt Gemara?

Faulty “weights” automatically make way for Amalek to enter. Amalek cooled down the awe everyone had for the Yidden, and Amalek in our personal life is the attitude of callousness towards Yiddishkeit.

Two months after this farbrengen, the Rebbe wrote a letter addressing the National Conference of Yeshiva Education held in Ferndale, N.Y. The Rebbe acknowledged the fact that, for whatever reason, most American yeshivos teach secular studies but challenged the fact that more emphasis is placed on secular studies than on, l’havdil, Torah.

Children are very impressionable, the Rebbe added, and when they see that the grades on secular studies are taken more seriously than Judaic studies, and that the secular textbooks are newer than the Judaic ones, and that their secular teachers get more respect and pay than do their Judaic counterparts, these children hear an indirect—or, perhaps direct—message of what their parents and their school find important.

In most cases, we don’t drop areas of Yiddishkeit cold turkey, it’s usually a gradual cooling process. A process that begins with our choice of priorities.

How much time, effort, money, and consideration do we spend on the spiritual and meaningful aspects when planning a simchah, in comparison to all the material aspects?

When shopping for clothing, are we prepared to splurge so that we or our children can dress modestly, or are we only ready to spend more if it will look more fashionable?

Do we take time off from our children’s yeshiva for family vacations, or do we take time off from family vacations for learning Torah and davening with a minyan?

Do summer camps give greater attention and allure to sports, or to Torah study?

Examining our priorities can affect the decisions we make and the messages we send (perhaps unwittingly) to our children.

One of the examples the Rebbe gave was that we give more respect and higher pay to secular teachers than to our melamdim.

This particular example came home to me this week because I just recently heard from several melamdim who are strongly considering leaving their positions because of two issues: One is lack of respect and appreciation—from their own administration as well as from parents and even from some of their own family members. The second is the financial strain; they’re simply not being paid enough.

Our communities B”H come together to fund large siyumim, concerts, and carnivals. We can surely come together to raise the salaries of our respected teachers.

Even when we don’t have money to make a difference we can find other ways to demonstrate our priorities. We can talk highly about our children’s teachers and principals, send letters of thanks and appreciation, and send a small monetary token of appreciation when possible.

Our choices carry a lot of weight; the Rebbe trusted us, nay, relied on us to make good ones.

Wishing our readers a K'sivah V'chasimah Tova and a Gut’n Shabbos,
Rabbi Mordechai Lipskier

Harav Yosef Chaim Sonnenfeld, Chief Rabbi of the Eidah Hacharedis in Eretz Yisroel under the British mandate, was once sitting at a Yid’s Shabbos table when he saw the host’s young child transgress a Shabbos prohibition. Instinctively, the rov shouted, “It’s Shabbos!” The child’s father considered the rov’s reaction excessive and protested that the child was too young to appreciate Shabbos and its laws. A short while later, the same child made his way to the china closet and found a nice crystal vase, a family heirloom, to play with. The father caught sight of this and screamed, “No! That’s Elter Zaide’s!”

The rov turned to the father, “Why are you reacting so strongly? He’s young and doesn’t yet grasp the value of a family heirloom.”

Parshas Ki Seitzei concludes with the lo sa’seh against using dishonest weights and measures, followed by the mitzvah to remember what Amalek did to us on our way out of Mitzrayim, and the commandment to destroy them.

Chazal explain that this is actually a sequence; the punishment for not having honest weights is what caused the attack of Amalek. But what’s the connection between this specific sin and being attacked by Amalek?

During the farbrengen of Purim 5722 (1962), the Rebbe explained this in terms of our personal avodah. Every day, we use "weights and measures" to determine our priorities. For instance, asked the Rebbe, do we spend more money on building nice yeshivos, or nice colleges? What do we celebrate more, a child’s recital of Shakespeare, or of, l’havdil, a blatt Gemara?

Faulty “weights” automatically make way for Amalek to enter. Amalek cooled down the awe everyone had for the Yidden, and Amalek in our personal life is the attitude of callousness towards Yiddishkeit.

Two months after this farbrengen, the Rebbe wrote a letter addressing the National Conference of Yeshiva Education held in Ferndale, N.Y. The Rebbe acknowledged the fact that, for whatever reason, most American yeshivos teach secular studies but challenged the fact that more emphasis is placed on secular studies than on, l’havdil, Torah.

Children are very impressionable, the Rebbe added, and when they see that the grades on secular studies are taken more seriously than Judaic studies, and that the secular textbooks are newer than the Judaic ones, and that their secular teachers get more respect and pay than do their Judaic counterparts, these children hear an indirect—or, perhaps direct—message of what their parents and their school find important.

In most cases, we don’t drop areas of Yiddishkeit cold turkey, it’s usually a gradual cooling process. A process that begins with our choice of priorities.

How much time, effort, money, and consideration do we spend on the spiritual and meaningful aspects when planning a simchah, in comparison to all the material aspects?

When shopping for clothing, are we prepared to splurge so that we or our children can dress modestly, or are we only ready to spend more if it will look more fashionable?

Do we take time off from our children’s yeshiva for family vacations, or do we take time off from family vacations for learning Torah and davening with a minyan?

Do summer camps give greater attention and allure to sports, or to Torah study?

Examining our priorities can affect the decisions we make and the messages we send (perhaps unwittingly) to our children.

One of the examples the Rebbe gave was that we give more respect and higher pay to secular teachers than to our melamdim.

This particular example came home to me this week because I just recently heard from several melamdim who are strongly considering leaving their positions because of two issues: One is lack of respect and appreciation—from their own administration as well as from parents and even from some of their own family members. The second is the financial strain; they’re simply not being paid enough.

Our communities B”H come together to fund large siyumim, concerts, and carnivals. We can surely come together to raise the salaries of our respected teachers.

Even when we don’t have money to make a difference we can find other ways to demonstrate our priorities. We can talk highly about our children’s teachers and principals, send letters of thanks and appreciation, and send a small monetary token of appreciation when possible.

Our choices carry a lot of weight; the Rebbe trusted us, nay, relied on us to make good ones.

Wishing our readers a K'sivah V'chasimah Tova and a Gut’n Shabbos,
Rabbi Mordechai Lipskier

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