He skillfully parked the old Subaru between two sizable garbage bins and, still wrestling with the stiff handle that had made trouble closing the car’s window ever since the Lebanon War, he stared at a luxurious Volvo gilding past. He made up his mind. The time had come.
For 24 years he had toiled hard to build up his economic status, shirking no task. Many still remember how he energetically washed the stairwells of apartment buildings in the middle of the night with a wide-brimmed hat hiding his face. With the help of connections at that job, he developed his skills and began doing small repairs. Here a door, there a window, a blocked-up sink or a broken tile and within a few years he was able to employ two strong Arab workers - Jibril and Chalil.
Many succah balconies owe their existence to him and his skillful hands transformed hundreds of kitchens. Over the years he exchanged the family’s cramped tenement for a spacious apartment. He had everything to be thankful for: a big business, a luxurious home, a fine family, ample capital, good health and Hashem's constant kindness. Over the years his bank account accrued a considerable amount which could be called a firm economic basis. His dream had come true.
He passed a callused hand over the cracked plastic of the steering wheel, caressed the gear rod that lost its head in a collision with a heavy sink, lovingly looked at the worn seats and knew that the time had come. He remained seated, his imagination hovering on wings of the future. He foresaw a sleek, silver colored car, equipped with digital switches at his command and, of course, electric windows. His car would glide silently, absorbing any bumps in the road, and he would park it in a special driveway built by Jibril and Chalil. He would get out, press the remote control, and tinted windows would rise as the luxurious vehicle locked. A quiet hum, accompanied by a quick flash of all the car's lights, would signal that the operation was accomplished.
A bothersome beep suddenly roused him from his dreams, and he realized that he was pressing the horn as though it were a remote control.
He never made a considerable decision without consulting his faithful wife. With sparkling eyes, he described the car of his dreams, dazzling on the outside and plushy inside: three years of guaranteed reliability and no need to lean over the motor every so often in a desperate attempt to rouse it to life. Ah - he leaned back in his armchair and stared at his cracked fingers that toiled so hard. The time had come. But she, to his surprise, refused. "Absolutely not. It's not even a question." She understood the need to get a new, efficient car, but was not prepared to buy a luxury vehicle, the object of her husband’s dreams. Each of them stood their ground until finally they decided to present their argument to a Torah authority. The couple went in the aged Subaru and soon arrived at the home of an eminent Talmid Chacham.
Eventually the door of the rabbi’s room opened, and an obviously troubled couple stepped out. "Next!" announced someone and our couple entered. The husband shook the rabbi’s hand vigorously, sat down and opened his heart. "Baruch Hashem", he weighed his words, "I have a flourishing business, plenty of money and..."
Seeing his hesitation, the rabbi urged him: "Yes, yes, go on."
"I also have a luxurious home...." His words again stuck in his throat. His glance caught the old walls of the rabbi’s house, the metal bookshelves that had seen his beard when it was still black, the old-fashioned phone and the wooden benches that resembled shelves in a grocery.
"Go on, go on."
"Well, I want to buy an expensive car, more efficient than the one I have."
"Use It in good health", smiled the rabbi, "and travel on good journeys...." The rabbi sunk his glance into the Gemara that he perused between visitors but noticed that the couple were not ready to leave. "Go on, go on,"
"ER - my wife opposes the idea."
"Why?"
"I'm afraid of ayin horah", she said, "and that people could be jealous of us because of our success."
"Ayin horah?"
"I’m very afraid."
The rabbi removed his spectacles, drew near to the husband, looked into his eyes and asked, "Have you finished Shas?"
"What?"
"Can I examine you in Shas?"
The husband’s eyes widened in astonishment. He already decided to check if he had come to the right address. "No, I haven’t completed the Shas but what about..."
"Maybe you'll allow me to test you in one seder - Nezikin or Nashim - whatever you want."
"No! I never finished any seder but what about..."
"Maybe I can test you in a certain tractate you know by heart?"
"No, I don’t know any whole tractate by heart but what about...?"
"Dear boy, can I test your knowledge of one chapter of any tractate?"
"That also not," the husband replied in wonder, but his determined character didn’t give up: "What about the car?"
"Yes, we've come to the car. In my opinion, your wife doesn’t have to worry about ayin horah. You haven’t finished Shas, a whole seder you don’t know, you don’t know an entire tractate by heart, nor even one chapter! Who, then, could be jealous of you?"
The couple were struck dumb. They understood. With no further ado, they said their farewells and left the room,
A month later the couple returned to the rabbi, who greeted them graciously while they were obviously excited.
"Yes?"
"I’ve come to be tested in the chapter of Eilu Metzios...." At that moment there was no one happier than the owner of the Subaru: For a long while he sat before the rabbi and page by page related the contents of the chapter.
Jibril and Chalil noticed that their employer was busy with a most urgent matter. In every free moment he would sit on the tool chest, take out a book and read the small print.
He understood the message well. Today he knows what a person should attend to and spreads his story so people should learn the lesson. "We live in this world”, he says. "We can’t ignore it. But a smart person distinguishes between the important and the trifling, between the truth and imagination, between the contents and the shell around them and between the essence and mere appearances. Torah is the main objective, and everyone should strive for it. All of us should aspire to its study and observation. Everything else is possible and permissible and only human, but we mustn’t forget the vital essential."
* * *
Rav Chaim Pinchas Scheinberg, zt"l, would often confront his donors with the question why they don't devote more time to Torah study. The standard reply was, "I have to make a living."
Rav Scheinberg would immediately respond, "Yes, I understand, you have to make a living. But when are you going to live!"
(The above is from the writings of R’ Eliezer Parkoff shlita)
Who Is The Wise One? He Who Recognizes That He Was Stupid
This week’s parsha contains the story of Eisav selling the birthright to Yaakov. After the transaction, the Torah uses the expression “VaYivez Eisav es haBechorah.” [And Eisav scorned the birthright.] (Bereishis 25:34). Rashi explains that this expression is testifying to Eisav’s wickedness.
It is obvious from the context of the narrative that Eisav scorned the birthright. This added expression tells us that there was an additional scorning — over and above that implicit in the sale itself.
Rav Leib Chasman tells us that this pasuk provides an important insight into human personality: When we do irrational or foolish acts, we compound our folly by attempting to rationalize what we have done. Nobody wants to believe that he is an idiot or that he has done something stupid. So, when people realize that they have done something foolish, what do they do? Invent a philosophy! People will invent a philosophy to rationalize their deeds.
In other words, Eisav was starving — hungry as a bear. His stomach was driving him. He did not evaluate what he was doing. “Don’t talk to me about the birthright — just give me something to eat.” After finishing the lentil soup, he realized that he did a foolish thing. The human mind needs to rationalize its actions. “It wasn’t worth it anyhow. The birthright was worthless! I would do it again!” “VaYivez Eisav es haBechorah” is the human mind’s necessary rationalization to justify its own foolish actions.
We twist ourselves into pretzels and invent the most ridiculous philosophies to convince ourselves that we are not foolish. “I’m the one who got the best of the deal. The birthright is not worth a pot of soup.”
This is so true. We all do stupid things once in a while. But the chochom [wise person] is not the one who never does anything foolish. The chochom is the one who, after doing something foolish, can look back and recognize that it was a mistake. “I was, in fact, stupid.” The fool, on the other hand, invents philosophies to perpetuate his errors, so that he does not need to face his mistakes. (R’ Frand)
Kedushah [Holiness] — It’s the Real Thing
The Torah describes that Yaakov dressed up in the garments of his brother Eisav, and entered his blind father’s room. “Yitzchak smelled his clothing” (begadav) and proclaimed, “See the aroma of my son is like the aroma of the field that G-d has blessed” (Bereishis 27:27).
The Medrash comments that the pasuk which we translated “Yitzchak smelled his clothing” should not be interpreted based on the word begadim [clothing] but rather based on the word bogdim [from boged — a traitor]. Yitzchak ‘smelled’ (i.e. — he sensed through Ruach HaKodesh) the traitors of the Jewish people. Yitzchak knew prophetically that there were descendants of Yaakov Avinu who would be rebellious and traitors to G-d. Therefore, Yitzchak was inspired to give Yaakov a blessing.
What is the meaning of the Medrash? Why did a negative prophecy inspire Yitzchak to bless Yaakov? This Medrash can be understood based on the example that the Medrash then relates. The Medrash gives the following example of the type of traitors that Yitzchak saw, who inspired him to give the blessing.
The Medrash relates an incident with an individual named Yosef Meshisa. When the Romans came to destroy the Beis HaMikdash, they did not know their way around. They needed a guide. They took a Jew — a traitor to his G-d and a traitor to his nation — to help them out and show them around the Beis HaMikdash. They told him that as payment for the ‘tour’ he could take whatever he wanted from the “spoils” of the Beis HaMikdash.
Yosef Meshisa went in and took out the Golden Menorah. Imagine how low a Jew can sink to do such a thing, to steal the Menorah itself! However, the Romans told
