Do we truly have free will? And what dors it mean that God descends into exile with us? Parsaht Vayigash

 Do We Truly Have Free Will? And What Does It Mean That God "Descends" Into Exile With Us?

In this week's parsha, Vayigash, a profound mystery unfolds when Yosef reveals himself to his brothers. He declares (Bereishit 45:7-8):

וַיִּשְׁלָחֵ֤נִי אֱלֹהִים֙ לִפְנֵיכֶ֔ם לָשׂ֥וּם לָכֶ֛ם שְׁאֵרִ֖ית בָּאָ֑רֶץ וּלְהַחֲי֣וֹת לָכֶ֔ם לִפְלֵיטָ֖ה גְּדֹלָֽה׃

"God sent me before you to make for you a remnant in the land, and to preserve life for you, that there be many survivors."

וְעַתָּ֗ה לֹֽא־אַתֶּ֞ם שְׁלַחְתֶּ֤ם אֹתִי֙ הֵ֔נָּה כִּ֖י הָאֱלֹהִ֑ים וַיְשִׂימֵ֨נִֽי לְאָ֜ב לְפַרְעֹ֗ה וּלְאָדוֹן֙ לְכׇל־בֵּית֔וֹ וּמֹשֵׁ֖ל בְּכׇל־אֶ֥רֶץ מִצְרָֽיִם׃

"And now, it was not you who sent me here, but God; He set me as father to Paroh and master of all his house, and ruler throughout all of the land of Egypt."

These words are startling. After all, it was the brothers who sold Yosef into slavery. It was Yosef's own choices—his integrity in Potiphar's house, his interpretation of dreams—that propelled him from prison to palace. So what is Yosef truly saying? Is he denying human free will (bechirah chofshit), suggesting we are mere puppets in God's grand design?

Later in the parsha, God appears to Yaakov in a night vision, reassuring him about the descent to Egypt (Bereishit 46:4):

אָנֹכִ֗י אֵרֵ֤ד עִמְּךָ֙ מִצְרַ֔יְמָה וְאָנֹכִ֖י אַֽעַלְךָ֣ גַם־עָלֹ֑ה וְיוֹסֵ֕ף יָשִׁ֥ית יָד֖וֹ עַל־עֵינֶֽיךָ׃

"I will go down to Egypt with you and I will also surely bring you up, and Yosef will set his hands upon your eyes."

Judaism emphatically rejects any notion of God having a physical form or descending literally into the world. So what does this divine "descent" mean? It powerfully echoes Yaakov's earlier dream of the ladder, with angels—messengers of God—ascending and descending, symbolizing an unbroken connection between heaven and earth.

Remarkably, these two puzzles share a single, profound resolution—one that illuminates the Jewish understanding of free will, divine providence (hashgachah), and how we carry God's presence into exile.

The Rambam, in Moreh Nevuchim 2:48, unveils a mind-expanding principle: Every event in the universe traces back through a chain of causes to the ultimate First Cause—God Himself. Prophets and the Torah therefore often attribute events directly to God as the ultimate source, even when intermediate causes (natural laws, chance, or human choices) are at play.

With unusual urgency, the Rambam urges readers to pay closer attention here than anywhere else in the Guide. He illustrates this using Yosef's story twice:

- For voluntary human choices: Yosef's words, "It was not you who sent me here, but God" (45:8).

- For chance events: "God sent me before you" (45:7).

Free will is not illusory—it is part of God's creation—yet every choice and its consequences ultimately trace back to the First Cause. Yosef wasn't absolving his brothers of responsibility; he was inviting them to see the bigger picture: Their freely chosen actions, painful as they were, became threads in a divine tapestry that preserved the family.

This perspective brings deep comfort: Even wrongdoing, when viewed through the lens of the First Cause, can be redirected toward redemption.

The key to God's promise "I will go down with you to Egypt" lies in this same idea—but with a transformative twist.

In Moreh Nevuchim 1:27, the Rambam explains anthropomorphic language like "descending," and in Yaakov's prophetic dream, the literal wording is retained because it is visionary imagery. More profoundly, divine "descent" into exile is not God literally accompanying us in a physical sense. Rather, hashgachah—divine providence—is our human recognition that everything traces back to the First Cause.

It is we who "take God with us" into exile through this elevated consciousness: by perceiving all events as ultimately rooted in God, and by actively choosing to imitate His ways (chesed, truth, justice) even in darkness.

This is the fulfillment of Yaakov's ladder vision. There, the angels (or "men of God," as some interpretations render) ascended first—representing the soul's upward journey in contemplation, grasping the esoteric truth that all reality flows from the First Cause. Only then did they descend, carrying that sublime understanding back into the world.

Now, as Yaakov and his family descend to the depths of Egypt—the epitome of impurity and materialism—they embody that descent of the ladder. They take the profound insight received in the Land of Israel, this esoteric worldview of tracing everything back to God and living in imitation of His attributes, down with them into exile. In doing so, they transform galut itself, ensuring that divine providence remains with them—not as an external force coming down, but as an inner light they carry downward.

Yosef modeled this perfectly: Amid betrayal and suffering, he maintained integrity and attributed the entire chain of events to God. In doing so, he brought the divine perspective into Egypt itself.

This is the timeless, empowering message of Vayigash: True hashgachah in exile is not God coming down to us, but our rising to Him—through understanding that all leads back to the First Cause, and through our resolute choice to live in imitation of His attributes. Like the angels on the ladder, we first ascend in thought and commitment, then descend into the world carrying that truth. In this way, we bring God with us wherever we go, turning even the darkest exile into a path of closeness and redemption.

Being close to God

 Within Jewish thought(Maimonidean), the less one presumes to know of God's essence, the closer one draws to Him.

The Rambam quotes the following in MN 1:59 to prove this point-

Tehillim 65:2-

לְךָ דֻמִיָּה תְהִלָּה אֱלֹהִים בְּצִיּוֹן

"To thee silence is praise"

TB Berakhot 33B

הַהוּא דִּנְחֵית קַמֵּיהּ דְּרַבִּי חֲנִינָא, אֲמַר ״הָאֵל הַגָּדוֹל הַגִּבּוֹר וְהַנּוֹרָא וְהָאַדִּיר וְהָעִזּוּז וְהַיָּראוּי, הֶחָזָק וְהָאַמִּיץ וְהַוַּדַּאי וְהַנִּכְבָּד״.

הִמְתִּין לוֹ עַד דְּסַיֵּים. כִּי סַיֵּים אֲמַר לֵיהּ: סַיֵּימְתִּינְהוּ לְכוּלְּהוּ שִׁבְחֵי דְמָרָךְ?! לְמָה לִי כּוּלֵּי הַאי? אֲנַן, הָנֵי תְּלָת דְּאָמְרִינַן אִי לָאו דְּאַמְרִינְהוּ מֹשֶׁה רַבֵּנוּ בְּאוֹרָיְיתָא, וַאֲתוֹ אַנְשֵׁי כְּנֶסֶת הַגְּדוֹלָה וְתַקְּנִינְהוּ בִּתְפִלָּה — לָא הֲוֵינַן יְכוֹלִין לְמֵימַר לְהוּ, וְאַתְּ אָמְרַתְּ כּוּלֵּי הַאי וְאָזְלַתְּ! מָשָׁל לְמֶלֶךְ בָּשָׂר וָדָם שֶׁהָיוּ לוֹ אֶלֶף אֲלָפִים דִּינְרֵי זָהָב, וְהָיוּ מְקַלְּסִין אוֹתוֹ בְּשֶׁל כֶּסֶף. וַהֲלֹא גְּנַאי הוּא לוֹ!

A particular individual descended before the ark as prayer leader in the presence of Rabbi Ḥanina. He extended his prayer and said: God, the great, mighty, awesome, powerful, mighty, awe-inspiring, strong, fearless, steadfast and honored.

Rabbi Ḥanina waited for him until he completed his prayer. When he finished, Rabbi Ḥanina asked him: Have you concluded all of the praises of your Master? Why do I need all of this superfluous praise? Even these three praises that we recite: The great, mighty and awesome, had Moses our teacher not said them in the Torah and had the members of the Great Assembly not come and incorporated them into the Amida prayer, we would not be permitted to recite them. And you went on and recited all of these. It is comparable to a king who possessed many thousands of golden dinars, yet they were praising him for silver ones. Isn’t that deprecatory? All of the praises we could possibly lavish upon the Lord are nothing but a few silver dinars relative to many thousands of gold dinars. Reciting a litany of praise does not enhance 

God’s honor.

One more thought that just occurred to me: Is it possible that Chazal’s mashal of gold and silver was inspired by (or even based on) these pesukim in Isaiah 46?

לְמִי תְדַמְּיוּנִי וְתַשְׁווּ וְתַמְשִׁלוּנִי וְנִדְמֶה׃

To whom can you compare Me Or declare Me similar?To whom can you liken Me,So that we seem comparable?

הַזָּלִים זָהָב מִכִּיס וְכֶסֶף בַּקָּנֶה יִשְׁקֹלוּ יִשְׂכְּרוּ צוֹרֵף וְיַעֲשֵׂהוּ אֵל יִסְגְּדוּ אַף־יִשְׁתַּחֲווּ׃

Those who squander gold from the purse And weigh out silver on the balance, They hire a metal worker to make it into a god,To which they bow down and prostrate themselves.

Korach the son or grandson of esav-וישלח

 In this week’s parsha (Bereishit 36), I’ve always found the listing of Esav’s descendants a bit confusing—specifically the son named קֹרַח who appears to be both a direct son of Esav and a son of Eliphaz (making him also Esav’s grandson).

Here are the relevant pesukim:

עֵשָׂ֛ו לָקַ֥ח אֶת־נָשָׁ֖יו מִבְּנ֣וֹת כְּנָ֑עַן אֶת־עָדָ֗ה בַּת־אֵילוֹן֙ הַֽחִתִּ֔י וְאֶת־אׇהֳלִֽיבָמָה֙ בַּת־עֲנָ֔ה בַּת־צִבְע֖וֹן הַֽחִוִּֽי...  

וְאׇהֳלִֽיבָמָה֙ יָֽלְדָ֔ה אֶת־[יְע֥וּשׁ] (יְעִ֖ישׁ) וְאֶת־יַעְלָ֖ם וְאֶת־קֹ֑רַח אֵ֚לֶּה בְּנֵ֣י עֵשָׂ֔ו אֲשֶׁ֥ר יֻלְּדוּ־ל֖וֹ בְּאֶ֥רֶץ כְּנָֽעַן׃

So we see that one of Esav’s wives, אׇהֳלִיבָמָה, gave birth to קֹרַח.  

(On a side note—her name אׇהֳלִיבָמָה, meaning “my tent is exalted” or “my tent is a בָּמָה,” is also quite interesting.)

The Torah repeats this lineage again:

וְאֵ֣לֶּה הָי֗וּ בְּנֵ֨י אׇהֳלִיבָמָ֧ה בַת־עֲנָ֛ה בַּת־צִבְע֖וֹן אֵ֣שֶׁת עֵשָׂ֑ו וַתֵּ֣לֶד לְעֵשָׂ֔ו אֶת־[יְע֥וּשׁ] (יְעִ֖ישׁ) וְאֶת־יַעְלָ֖ם וְאֶת־קֹֽרַח׃

Then we are told that Eliphaz (Esav’s firstborn son from his wife עָדָה) also had a son named קֹרַח:

אֵ֖לֶּה אַלּוּפֵ֣י בְנֵֽי־עֵשָׂ֑ו בְּנֵ֤י אֱלִיפַז֙ בְּכ֣וֹר עֵשָׂ֔ו אַלּ֤וּף תֵּימָן֙ אַלּ֣וּף אוֹמָ֔ר אַלּ֥וּף צְפ֖וֹ אַלּ֥וּף קְנַֽז׃  

אַלּֽוּף־קֹ֛רַח אַלּ֥וּף גַּעְתָּ֖ם אַלּ֣וּף עֲמָלֵ֑ק אֵ֣לֶּה אַלּוּפֵ֤י אֱלִיפַז֙ בְּאֶ֣רֶץ אֱד֔וֹם אֵ֖לֶּה בְּנֵ֥י עָדָֽה׃

And once more the Torah lists קֹרַח among the chiefs descended from אׇהֳלִיבָמָה(esav's wife):

וְאֵ֗לֶּה בְּנֵ֤י אׇהֳלִֽיבָמָה֙ אֵ֣שֶׁת עֵשָׂ֔ו אַלּ֥וּף יְע֛וּשׁ אַלּ֥וּף יַעְלָ֖ם אַלּ֣וּף קֹ֑רַח אֵ֣לֶּה אַלּוּפֵ֞י אׇהֳלִֽיבָמָ֛ה בַּת־עֲנָ֖ה אֵ֥שֶׁת עֵשָֽׂו׃

The Rishonim noticed this apparent contradiction: How can קֹרַח be both a son of Esav and a grandson (son of Eliphaz)?

Both Rashi and בְּכוֹר שׁוֹר (a prominent student of Rabbeinu Tam) brings a remarkable explanation, citing the words of our Sages-(I'm quoting the bechor shor below):

ורבותינו אמרו: כי אליפז בא על אהליבמה והולידו, ולפיכך מנהו באלופי אליפז ובאלופי אהליבמה ובבניה.

Meaning: Eliphaz had relations with his father’s wife אׇהֳלִיבָמָה and fathered קֹרַח with her. That is why the Torah counts קֹרַח both among the chiefs of Eliphaz and among the chiefs/descendants of אׇהֳלִיבָמָה (and originally as a direct son of Esav).

It’s striking that both Yaakov and Esav had similar scandals with their children. Yet by Yaakov and Reuven, the torah spells it straight out and by Esav and Eliphaz, it's only hinted…

Even more fascinating: centuries later, at the time of יציאת מצרים, the name קֹרַח became a common Jewish name—most famously borne by the Korach who challenged Moshe Rabbeinu. The fact that Jews in Egypt freely used names of Esav’s descendants may hint that, in that earlier period, Esav’s family was not yet viewed as the eternal adversary it later became (especially from the Second Temple era onward). In fact the Rambam(MN 3:50) says that the reason the descendants of Esav are listed in such detail, is so that in our mitzvah of erasing Amalek, we don't accidently harm Esav’s other children

Hashgacha pratis/ladder

 A message to the chareidi leadership in Israel that follow voodoo judaism!

Hashgacha Pratis isn’t God reaching down – it’s man reaching up.

In this week’s parsha, Yaakov sees the angels going up the ladder first, and only then coming down. And at the top stands Hashem – “nitzav alav” (Bereishit 28:13).

The Rambam (Moreh Nevuchim 1:15) explains that when the Torah says God is “nitzav” (standing), it’s not about a body. It means God is eternal, unchanging, constant – absolutely steady, never moving, never changing.

So if God doesn’t change, how does personal hashgacha happen? How does God “get involved” in our lives?

The Rambam answers this beautifully in the exact same chapter: the torah says that  the angels go up first, and only then come down. A person has to climb – through thought, learning, prophecy– and only after that ascent does he bring something down-action to this world, to fix it, to teach it, to lead it.

That descent, says the Rambam elsewhere (1:10), is what the torah calls “God coming down.” In truth, it’s man who went up (mentally/prophecy)and is now bringing God’s light back into the world through revelation and action.

Yaakov’s dream isn’t showing some magical divine intervention. It’s showing the real mechanism: the tzaddik, the prophet, the leader – anyone created b’tzelem Elokim – climbs the ladder in his mind and soul, grasps God’s will, and then comes back down to change reality via action.

That’s hashgacha pratis in action.  

Not God moving.  

Us moving – and becoming the hands of heaven right here on earth.

Did the Akeida really happen? Does God really need to test us?

 

The Rambam in MN 2:41 says that whenever it says regarding a prophet that an angel spoke to him, it is always through a dream or a vision.

  החכמים ז"ל דיברו על כך במפורש ואמרו: "'וַיֹּאמֶר ה' לָהּ [שְׁנֵי גֹיִים בְּבִטְנֵךְ...]' (שם כה,כג) – על ידי מלאך" (בראשית רבה סג,ז). ודע שכל מי שנאמר עליו בפסוקים שדיבר איתו מלאך או שהגיע אליו דיבור מאת ה', לא היה דבר זה בשום אופן אלא בחלום או במראה הנבואה.

In this week's parsha, Genesis chapter 22, God speaks to Avraham and tells him to offer Yitzchak as a sacrifice.

וַיְהִי, אַחַר הַדְּבָרִים הָאֵלֶּה, וְהָאֱלֹהִים, נִסָּה אֶת־אַבְרָהָם; וַיֹּאמֶר אֵלָיו, אַבְרָהָם וַיֹּאמֶר הִנֵּנִי.  ב וַיֹּאמֶר קַח־נָא אֶת־בִּנְךָ אֶת־יְחִידְךָ אֲשֶׁר־אָהַבְתָּ, אֶת־יִצְחָק, וְלֶךְ־לְךָ, אֶל־אֶרֶץ הַמֹּרִיָּה; וְהַעֲלֵהוּ שָׁם, לְעֹלָה, עַל אַחַד הֶהָרִים, אֲשֶׁר אֹמַר אֵלֶיךָ

The next thing we read is that Avraham woke up in the morning and attempted to fulfill God's command until an angel tells him to stop.

וַיַּשְׁכֵּם אַבְרָהָם בַּבֹּקֶר, וַיַּחֲבֹשׁ אֶת־חֲמֹרוֹ, וַיִּקַּח אֶת־שְׁנֵי נְעָרָיו אִתּוֹ, וְאֵת יִצְחָק בְּנוֹ; וַיְבַקַּע, עֲצֵי עֹלָה, וַיָּקָם וַיֵּלֶךְ, אֶל־הַמָּקוֹם אֲשֶׁר־אָמַר־לוֹ הָאֱלֹהִים...וַיִּקְרָא אֵלָיו מַלְאַךְ יְהוָה, מִן־הַשָּׁמַיִם, וַיֹּאמֶר, אַבְרָהָם אַבְרָהָם; וַיֹּאמֶר, הִנֵּנִי.  יב וַיֹּאמֶר, אַל־תִּשְׁלַח יָדְךָ אֶל־הַנַּעַר, וְאַל־תַּעַשׂ לוֹ, מְאוּמָה:  כִּי עַתָּה יָדַעְתִּי, כִּי־יְרֵא אֱלֹהִים אַתָּה, וְלֹא חָשַׂכְתָּ אֶת־בִּנְךָ אֶת־יְחִידְךָ, מִמֶּנִּי.  

Now, did the vision ever end, or did all this happen—including his attempt to sacrifice Yitzchak—all as a vision? 

It would make sense that it was a vision, because at the end, when the angel speaks to Avraham, it would confirm that the entire event from beginning to end was all one vision. 

I know that there are many problems that arise with this theory, including: What kind of test was it if it was all a vision? And what reward does Avraham get for an Akeida that was just a vision? There are other problems with saying the Akeida really did happen. One of them is that, according to math and the Rabbis in Bereishit Rabbah, Yitzchak was 37 years old when the Akeida happened. In reality, he should receive more reward than Avraham. After all, he was the one allowing himself to be sacrificed despite not receiving the command or prophecy from God.

Now let's examine the word ניסיון, or test, according to the Rambam in MN 3:24:

"The sole object of all the trials mentioned in Scripture is to teach man what he ought to do or believe; so that the event which forms the actual trial is not the end desired: it is but an example for our instruction and guidance."

So if ניסיון is a lesson in how we—and future generations—should behave, then the fact that this was all a vision is not a problem. It would also explain why Yitzchak does not get credit for allowing himself to be offered as a Sacrifice. As regards why Avraham is rewarded for an act that he never performed, the Torah says twice—that an angel called out once when he was about to slaughter Yitzchak (if it was in a vision)—

וַיֹּאמֶר, אַל־תִּשְׁלַח יָדְךָ אֶל־הַנַּעַר, וְאַל־תַּעַשׂ לוֹ, מְאוּמָה:  כִּי עַתָּה יָדַעְתִּי, כִּי־יְרֵא אֱלֹהִים אַתָּה, וְלֹא חָשַׂכְתָּ אֶת־בִּנְךָ אֶת־יְחִידְךָ, מִמֶּנִּי. 

And again from the angel after he slaughtered a ram instead—

וַיִּקְרָא מַלְאַךְ יְהוָה, אֶל־אַבְרָהָם, שֵׁנִית, מִן־הַשָּׁמַיִם.  טז וַיֹּאמֶר, בִּי נִשְׁבַּעְתִּי נְאֻם־יְהוָה:  כִּי, יַעַן אֲשֶׁר עָשִׂיתָ אֶת־הַדָּבָר הַזֶּה, וְלֹא חָשַׂכְתָּ, אֶת־בִּנְךָ אֶת־יְחִידֶךָ.

I know this is far-fetched, but perhaps the sacrifice of his son is not what God is referring to when He says ולא חשכת את בנך את יחידך (notice that Yitzchak by name is never mentioned). Perhaps it is referring to sending his eldest, Ishmael, away so that Yitzchak can be the chosen one or the one to inherit the mission of Avraham. We saw in the previous chapter how much sending away his son Ishmael bothered and pained him. Yet he chose to do so because God told him. This may not have been an actual Akeida, but it definitely had similar emotional results...

It is to this sacrifice that God was referring in Avraham's vision.

We must differentiate between a test being the cause of the reward versus a lesson for future generations. The ten tests are lessons and not necessarily sources of reward.

What is divine intervention or Hashgacha Pratis?

 

In this week’s parsha, when Yitzchak asks Yaakov—whom he believes to be his brother Esav—how he managed to return so quickly with the prepared food, Yaakov answers as follows (Bereishit 27:20):

וַיֹּ֤אמֶר יִצְחָק֙ אֶל־בְּנוֹ֔ מַה־זֶּ֛ה מִהַ֥רְתָּ לִמְצֹ֖א בְּנִ֑י וַיֹּ֕אמֶר כִּ֥י הִקְרָ֛ה יְהוָ֥ה אֱלֹהֶ֖יךָ לְפָנָֽי׃  

“And Yitzchak said to his son, ‘How is it that you found it so quickly, my son?’ And he said, ‘Because the Lord your God made it happen (hikrah) for me.’”

Yaakov’s response essentially means: “God arranged it for me that the food came quickly.” The word הִקְרָה (from the root ק־ר־ה) normally implies mere happenstance or coincidence. But when it is used together with the name of God—“הִקְרָ֛ה יְהוָ֥ה אֱלֹהֶ֖יךָ לְפָנָֽי”—Yaakov is saying that what might appear to others as chance was, in truth, the guiding hand of God.

The midrashim seize upon this answer and connect it beautifully to two earlier episodes: the Akeidah and Eliezer’s search for a wife for Yitzchak.

- At the Akeidah, after Avraham is stopped from offering Yitzchak, a ram suddenly appears caught in the thicket, ready to be sacrificed in his place.  

- When Eliezer prays at the well for a sign to find a wife for his master’s son, he explicitly uses the same root: הַקְרֵה־נָ֛א לְפָנַ֥י הַיּוֹם (“Cause it to happen [hakreh na] for me today…” – Bereishit 24:12).

The midrashim explain Yaakov’s reply to his father this way: “If God can ‘cause a ram to happen’ for the sake of His direct service (the Akeidah), and if He can ‘cause the right woman to happen’ at the well when one is seeking a spouse, then surely, when it comes to basic human sustenance—food—God will arrange for it to come quickly.”

These midrashim immediately remind me of the Rambam’s words in Moreh Nevukhim 3:51:

“When we have acquired true knowledge of God and rejoice in that knowledge in such a way that, even while speaking with others or attending to our bodily needs, our mind is wholly with God… when our heart is constantly near God even though our body is among people… when we are in the state the Song of Songs describes: ‘I sleep, but my heart is awake; it is the voice of my beloved knocking’ (Shir HaShirim 5:2)—then we have reached not only the level of most prophets, but the unique level of Moshe Rabbenu…”

In the very same chapter, the Rambam continues:

"I have just had a most amazing flash of light that will lose many a knot and lay bare many a divine mystery:In the chapters on providence, I explained that providence over any rational subject is in the measure of his reason. So providence is constant over an enlightened person whose focus on God is unbroken. But should that person's thoughts stray for a moment, he is cared for only while he concentrates on him.Providence recedes while he is distracted, although it does not leave him in the same state as someone who has never known such thoughts "

The Avot lived with an unbroken awareness of God, guiding every action by imitating His ways as revealed in creation. They viewed the world through lenses that revealed God’s will in everything—whether in direct worship through sacrifice or prayer, in finding a spouse, or even in the simple act of obtaining food. This is precisely the state the Rambam describes: constantly thinking of God, even amid daily life.

This is actually how the Rambam learns hashgacha pratis-man being aware of god and thereby choosing to imitate his ways. 

It is no wonder, then, that in next week’s parsha Yaakov dreams of the ladder with angels ascending and descending. The ladder symbolizes the prophet’s (and every Jew’s) task: first to raise the mind to God and His ways, and then to descend and bring that divine consciousness back down into everyday activities—transforming the mundane into the holy. This is the ultimate purpose of the mitzvot and of the rabbinic enactments such as blessings before eating, on seeing the new moon, on hearing thunder or lightning, etc.—to keep our hearts and minds focused on seeing and imitating God's ways in creation, at all times.

Shabbat shalom!

Is belief in God enough?

 Is Believing in God Enough?

I was reading פרשגן on this week's parsha, and he quotes an interesting insight from Nehama Leibowitz regarding Genesis 15:5-6:

"וַיּוֹצֵא אֹתוֹ הַחוּצָה, וַיֹּאמֶר הַבֶּט-נָא הַשָּׁמַיְמָה וּסְפֹר הַכּוֹכָבִים--אִם-תּוּכַל, לִסְפֹּר אֹתָם; וַיֹּאמֶר לוֹ, כֹּה יִהְיֶה זַרְעֶךָ.  

וְהֶאֱמִן בַּיהוָה; וַיַּחְשְׁבֶהָ לּוֹ, צְדָקָה."

"And He brought him forth abroad, and said: 'Look now toward heaven, and count the stars, if thou be able to count them'; and He said unto him: 'So shall thy seed be.  

And he believed in the LORD; and He counted it to him for righteousness.'"

In the last sentence, where it says "He counted it to him for righteousness," there is a debate between Rashi and the Ramban regarding who "him" refers to.

 According to Rashi, it refers to God counting Avraham as righteous due to his belief in Him. 

The Ramban interprets it as Avraham counting God as righteous. 

Nehama Leibowitz offers a fascinating insight into why the Ramban took this view. The Ramban was frequently debating Christians who claimed that "belief" alone in Jesus grants righteousness or entry into the kingdom of heaven. Therefore, he did not want to understand this pasuk as God finding Avraham righteous solely based on his belief. In Judaism, belief without mitzvot or proper behavior is deemed worthless. Thus, the Ramban concluded that Avraham recognized the righteousness in God.

So, what exactly did Avraham find righteous about God in this vision of his children being compared to the stars?

 My interpretation is that, similar to the stars that  we see, which often appear millions or billions of light-years after the event, walking in the ways of God leads to positive consequences long after we're gone.

 This was Avraham's vision: he was told by God that the path and way of life he chose would result in his children continuing his mission and changing the world for thousands, perhaps millions, of years after he is gone. It is this capacity built into creation to have a positive impact on the world long after our time that Avraham attributed righteousness to God.

Shavua Tov!

R' Eliezer Hurkenos

 In today's Daf, we explore the concept of evolution and how Chazal (our sages) differ in their approach to the evolutionary process from a halachic perspective. The question arises: Does the changing nature of the world necessitate changes in halacha, or should we adhere to halacha based on historical scientific understandings? 

Beit Shammai argues that halacha should remain unchanged despite shifts in the natural world, while Beit Hillel contends that halacha can evolve over time and adapt based on the insights of each generation, following the proper processes (such as those established by a Sanhedrin).

This perspective likely explains why we predominantly follow Beit Hillel. Halacha is intended to be dynamic, much like nature itself, as both were created by God and entrusted to humanity, reflecting the principle of "Torah lo b'shamayim" (the Torah is not in heaven) and regarding nature-"V'kivshuha" (and we must conquer it).

An interesting point to note involves the renowned Rabbi Eliezer Hurcanus, who was previously mentioned in this tractate. He is described in the tractate Avot as a "בור סוד שאינו מאבד טיפה," meaning "a plastered cistern that doesn’t lose a drop." This metaphor illustrates his role as a student who absorbed knowledge from his teachers like an encyclopedia, adhering strictly to tradition and the teachings he received.

Despite being educated in the yeshivot of Beit Hillel, Rabbi Eliezer chose to follow the rulings of Beit Shammai. He was steadfast in his commitment to tradition and resisted innovation, a trait that ultimately led to his excommunication. The Torah cannot thrive without innovation. Ironically, it was Rabbi Eliezer’s famous student, Rabbi Akiva, who was celebrated for his creativity and innovation, as the Gemara describes how Rabbi Akiva would interpret the crowns of the letters in the Torah.

Below is the Gemara from today's Daf:

אָמַר רַבִּי חִיָּיא בְּרֵיהּ דְּרַבָּה בַּר נַחְמָנִי: אָמַר רַב חִסְדָּא, וְאָמְרִי לַהּ אָמַר רַב חִסְדָּא אָמַר זְעֵירִי: הַכֹּל מוֹדִים בְּבֶן תֵּשַׁע שָׁנִים וְיוֹם אֶחָד שֶׁבִּיאָתוֹ בִּיאָה, פָּחוֹת מִבֶּן שְׁמֹנֶה שֶׁאֵין בִּיאָתוֹ בִּיאָה. לֹא נֶחְלְקוּ אֶלָּא בְּבֶן שְׁמֹנֶה, דְּבֵית שַׁמַּאי סָבְרִי: גָּמְרִינַן מִדּוֹרוֹת הָרִאשׁוֹנִים, וּבֵית הִלֵּל סָבְרִי: לָא גָּמְרִינַן מִדּוֹרוֹת הָרִאשׁוֹנִים.

"Rabbi Ḥiyya, son of Rabba bar Naḥmani, says that Rav Ḥisda says, and some say that Rav Ḥisda says that Ze’eiri says: All, i.e., both Beit Shammai and Beit Hillel, concede regarding a boy nine years and one day old that his intercourse is regarded as intercourse, disqualifying a woman from marrying into the priesthood and resulting in her liability for the death penalty, even though he himself is not liable to receive it. They also all agree that a boy less than eight years old is not regarded as having engaged in intercourse with respect to these halakhot. Their disagreement pertains only to a boy who is eight years old, as Beit Shammai maintains that we learn from earlier generations, when people could father children at that age, and we apply that reality to the present; while Beit Hillel contends that we do not learn from earlier generations."

Kiseh

 Maimonides writes in MN 1:9 that the Hebrew word "Kisse" fundamentally translates to "throne." This throne was exclusively occupied by individuals of majesty and authority, such as kings. The throne itself isn't inherently special; it gains significance from the person who occupies it, due to the symbolism they bestow upon it. This is why the Beit Hamikdash is called God's throne, as it symbolizes, through the observer, the God who revealed Himself there (through prophecy-my words)

Maimonides further explains that the same concept applies to the heavens being referred to as God's throne. They reveal the majesty of God to those who study them, illustrating how He governs and controls the world, as evidenced by the benefits we experience on Earth, as a result of the heavens(rain, seasons etc). As stated in Isaiah 66:1: "So says God: The heavens are my throne."

In other words, unlike a human king who must fight to ascend to the throne, thereby making it royal and special through their reign, God is already the King through our observation and understanding of the cause of the world's existence. The throne symbolizes our realization through creation—whether divine or our own—that He is the cause and creator of everything we experience. Objects or creations that awaken this awareness are referred to as God's throne.

On this note, I'd like to highlight an interesting passage in the Book of Esther:

The word "kiseh" (throne) appears only three times in the Megillah. The first instance is when Achashverosh is mentioned as the occupier of the throne-Chapter 1:2:

"בַּיָּמִים הָהֵם כְּשֶׁבֶת הַמֶּלֶךְ אֲחַשְׁוֵרוֹשׁ עַל כִּסֵּא מַלְכוּתוֹ אֲשֶׁר בְּשׁוּשַׁן הַבִּירָה."

The second instance is when Haman is mentioned as the occupier of the throne- Chapter 3:1:

"אַחַר הַדְּבָרִים הָאֵלֶּה גִּדַּל הַמֶּלֶךְ אֲחַשְׁוֵרוֹשׁ אֶת הָמָן בֶּן הַמְּדָתָא הָאֲגָגִי וַיְנַשְּׂאֵהוּ וַיָּשֶׂם אֶת כִּסְאוֹ מֵעַל כׇּל הַשָּׂרִים אֲשֶׁר אִתּוֹ."

Finally, in Chapter 5:1:

"וַיְהִי בַּיּוֹם הַשְּׁלִישִׁי וַתִּלְבַּשׁ אֶסְתֵּר מַלְכוּת וַתַּעֲמֹד בַּחֲצַר בֵּית הַמֶּלֶךְ הַפְּנִימִית נֹכַח בֵּית הַמֶּלֶךְ וְהַמֶּלֶךְ יוֹשֵׁב עַל כִּסֵּא מַלְכוּתוֹ בְּבֵית הַמַּלְכוּת נֹכַח פֶּתַח הַבָּיִת."

In this last mention of the "kiseh," the Megillah is silent about who is occupying  the throne, referring only to the word "melech" (king). I believe this was intentional, to show that Esther was approaching two kings or two thrones at once—the earthly king who makes the throne his own and the divine King known through the realization of His throne.

Note-perhaps this is the reason that the word נכח is written twice-to support this idea

Purim 2025

 The evil Mordechai...!

This year, the part of the Megillah that resonates most profoundly with me is the final pasuk:

כִּי מָרְדֳּכַי הַיְּהוּדִי, מִשְׁנֶה לַמֶּלֶךְ אֲחַשְׁוֵרוֹשׁ, וְגָדוֹל לַיְּהוּדִים, וְרָצוּי לְרֹב אֶחָיו--דֹּרֵשׁ טוֹב לְעַמּוֹ, וְדֹבֵר שָׁלוֹם לְכָל-זַרְעוֹ

"For Mordechai the Jew was second in rank to King Ahasuerus, and he was esteemed among the Jews and favored by the majority of his brothers. He sought the welfare of his people and spoke peace to all his descendants."

What truly captivates me is the phrase "favored by the majority of his brothers." Much like the biblical Pinchas, Mordechai’s decisive actions led to the deaths of over seventy thousand fellow citizens. There were no trials, no justice system to condemn them; it was simply the king’s decree that sealed their fate. One can almost hear the progressive voices bemoaning that if only Mordechai had bowed down, this entire saga might have been avoided. I can envision the teshuvot written in condemnation of Mordechai for his refusal to bow, risking the lives of his fellow Jews while turning a blind eye to the ensuing bloodshed.

Imagine the fervent discussions among the frum community and in the chareidi yeshivot about a local Rosh Yeshiva marrying off his niece to a non-Jew! 

Now, picture if social media had existed then—how the self-righteous would argue about the precedent set by the slaughter of fellow citizens and the implications for future violence at the king’s whim. 

The modern-day debates circulating in Jewish social media against Trump and his recent actions regarding the terrorist Mahmoud Khalil likely mirror those once directed at Mordechai in his time. This is precisely why the Megillah emphasizes "the majority of his brothers." It serves as a powerful reminder that this is a recurring theme in Jewish history. We will always question and critique, even in the wake of a hard-won victory over our adversaries. Just as Pinchas, after slaying Zimri, received a blessing of peace to counter the dissenters of his actions, so too does the Megillah conclude with Mordechai and the enduring theme of peace:

דֹבֵר שָׁלוֹם לְכָל-זַרְעוֹ

Happy and peaceful purim to all my Jewish brothers and sisters! :)

A Reflection on Miracles and Belief: Insights from the Rambam and Talmudic Stories(in the daf yomi)

Unlike the followers of Voodoo Judaism and the "magical Torah protection" espoused by the Chareidi Eirav Rav groups in Israel, the Rambam was not a proponent of miracles. In fact, in his Yesodei Hatorah(Chapter 8), he states:

מֹשֶׁה רַבֵּנוּ--לֹא הֶאֱמִינוּ בּוֹ יִשְׂרָאֵל, מִפְּנֵי הָאוֹתוֹת שֶׁעָשָׂה:  שֶׁהַמַּאֲמִין עַל פִּי הָאוֹתוֹת--יֵשׁ בְּלִבּוֹ דֹּפִי, שֶׁאִפְשָׁר שֶׁיֵּעָשֶׂה הָאוֹת בְּלָאט וְכִשּׁוּף.

"Moses our teacher – Israel did not believe in him because of the signs he performed: for the one who believes based on signs has a flaw in their heart, as it is possible for a sign to be done secretly and through sorcery."

This perspective aligns beautifully with the upcoming Daf Yomi (Sanhedrin 96b) discussion this Sunday, which recounts the story of Nebuzaradan, the Babylonian general who destroyed Jerusalem and the First Temple. The Gemara shares the following narrative:

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"When he reached the Sanctuary, he saw the blood of Zechariah the priest boiling. It had not calmed since he was killed in the Temple (see II Chronicles 24:20–22). Nebuzaradan asked the priests: "What is this?" They replied: "It is the blood of offerings that was spilled." Nebuzaradan said: "Bring animals, and I will test to determine if the blood of the animals is similar to the boiling blood." He slaughtered the animals, but their blood was not similar to the boiling blood. He then demanded: "Reveal the source of that blood to me; if not, I will comb your flesh with an iron comb."

The priests explained: "This blood belongs to a priest and a prophet who prophesied to Israel about the destruction of Jerusalem and whom they killed." Nebuzaradan said: "I will pacify the blood so the boiling will stop." He brought the Sages and killed them over the blood, yet the boiling did not cease. He brought schoolchildren and killed them, and still, the boiling continued. He brought young priests and killed them, but the boiling persisted. He continued this gruesome act until he had killed 940,000 people over the blood, and still, the boiling did not cease.

Nebuzaradan approached the blood and said: "Zechariah, Zechariah, the worthy among them I killed on your behalf. Is it satisfactory for you that I kill them all?" Immediately, the boiling ceased. Nebuzaradan contemplated repentance, realizing that if those who caused only one person's death required such extensive atonement, then what would be required of him for all the destruction he had caused? He deserted his army, sent a last will to his house, and converted."

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What is fascinating about this aggadah is that it was not the miraculous boiling of blood that convinced Nebuzaradan to convert, but rather his rational contemplation of teshuva (repentance) for all the death and destruction for which he was responsible.

The Gemara continues with the following teaching:

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"The Sages taught in a baraita: Naaman the Aramean was a ger toshav, meaning he accepted upon himself to refrain from idol worship but did not convert to Judaism. Conversely, Nebuzaradan was a completely righteous convert."

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In this context, Nebuzaradan is compared to Naaman the Aramean, who, after being miraculously cured of leprosy through the prophet Elisha, recognized that the God of Elisha was the true God. However, he did not convert fully.

The messages conveyed in these stories resonate deeply with the Rambam's teachings in Yesodei Hatorah. Miracles alone do not foster true belief in God; rather, it is the arduous process of rational thinking and introspection that leads one to genuinely embrace faith in the God of our ancestors.