Torah Teasers
Parshas Vayeigash
Yosef To The Shevatim, I Am No Worse Than Eisav When Yosef revealed himself to his brothers he said, “Ani Yosef, Ha’Od Avi Chai?” Why did Yosef ask if Yaakov was alive? Yehuda just finished giving a speech about Yaakov’s frail health and how he may die if Binyomin doesn’t come back.
Rav Yehonoson Eibushitz answers that the Shevatim were scared that Yosef who was now in a position of great power would have them executed as revenge for selling him. Yosef wanted to allay their fears. He reminded them that although Eisav wanted to kill Yaakov immediately after he got the Brachos, nevertheless, the Torah says that Eisav didn’t plan to carry out the murder of Yaakov until Yitzchok died, in order not to cause Yitzchok pain and grief.
Yosef rhetorically asked his brothers, “Is Yaakov still alive?” If so, they had nothing to fear because Yosef is no worse than Eisav and would not kill them in Yaakov’s lifetime.
Yosef Reveals His Voice To prove his real identity to his brothers Yosef says, “Ki Pi HaMidaber Aleichem.” (Vayigash 45:12) Rashi explains that he spoke Lashon HaKodesh. What kind of proof was this, if the interpreter had spoken Lashon HaKodesh all along? The Iturei Torah brings from Rav Chaim of Tzanz that the reason why the brothers did not recognize Yosef was because they never saw him with a beard. “However,” asks the Divrei Chaim, “the Gemara (Chulin 96) says that you can recognize someone by their voice. Why did they not recognize his voice?”
He answers that a voice varies depending on the language you are speaking. Each language has its own intonation, articulation, and sing song. A voice is only recognizable in the same language that you are used to hearing it in. Since at home the Shvatim spoke with him Lashon Kodesh and now he spoke Egyptian, they did not recognize his voice.
To prove his identity to the brothers Yosef spoke to them in Lashon Kodesh and they were amazed to recognize that familiar voice that was certainly their brother Yosef.
Why Does Yaakov Need Egyptian Wine? “Asara Chamorim Nosim MiTuv Mitzrayim; Ten donkeys laden with the best Mitzrayim has to offer.” (Vayigash 45:23) Rashi says this refers to old wine that old people are happy with. Rav Shimon Schwab asks, “Yaakov was a tzaddik and didn’t need anything from Olam HaZeh. Was good wine going to make Yaakov happy? Also was wine the best thing Mitzrayim had?” Rav Schwab answers with another question. “How could Yosef send wine from Mitzrayim that was assur because it was Stam Yeinam (Yayin Nesech), and we know the Avos kept all the mitzvos even DRabanan? We must conclude from here that in Mitzrayim they did not have a practice of pouring wine before their gods. Because their wine was clean from any traces of Avodah Zara, Yosef calls the wine the best Mitzrayim has to offer. This is why the ‘Zakein’ which means, not old, but someone who learns Torah, enjoys it.”
Was Yosef Inciting By Being Generous To Binyomin? Yosef gave all his brothers garments and to Binyomin he gave five garments and three hundred coins (Vayigash 45:22). The Gemara in Megila (17b) says that Yosef was not making the same mistake as his father by favoring Binyomin because he was hinting that in the future, Mordechai, from Shevet Binyomin will go before the King with five royal garments. The Vilna Gaon explains that Binyomin’s five garments were of inferior quality, and the five of them combined were the same value as the one garment he gave to each brother.
But what about the 300 coins? The Pninim MiSHulchan Govo’a says that this question was asked by a Chanuka gathering in the house of the Bais HaLevi when he was a young child. He amazed the crowd by offering the following answer. The halacha is that if you sell a slave to a goy you must redeem him even at ten times his value. An Eved is roughly valued at 30 shekalim in Parshas Mishpatim. Each of the brothers needed to redeem Yosef up to 300 shekalim. By forgiving them, it was as if he gave each one a cash gift of 300 shekel. Binyomin who was not part of the Mechira got his gift in actual cash. (As a footnote the Shulchan Govo’a brings that not only was this answered by the Bais HaLevi in his youth but also the Chizkuni and the Chida.
Yaakov’s Galus Is Like Old Wine Yosef sent Yaakov “MiTuv Mitzrayim”, old wine according to Rashi (45:23). The Pesach Eynayim says that Yayim Yashan is gematria 430. Yosef sent this as a remez to Yaakov that his descent is part of the galus that Hashem told Avrohom would last 430 years.
The Ben Ish Chai (Ben Yehoada Megila 16b) asks “Why at such a sensitive juncture of Yaakov’s life would Yosef feel the need to remind him about the long difficult galus that Bnei Yisrael was destined to endure?” He answers that on the contrary, Yosef was trying to console his father. While their was a tradition that the galus would be 430 years, Yosef signaled that Yaakov’s descent to Mitzrayim would be reversed long before that time. He sent him Yayin Yashan or old wine to hint that while the galus will last 430 years, nevertheless it is an old story like old wine, and it began many years before, at the Bris Bain HaBesarim. That meant that already half the galus was over before Yaakov even arrived in Mitzrayim.
Yehuda Is Doomed Either Way Yehuda tells Yosef that he will serve as a slave instead of Binyomin. “V’HaNaar Ya’al Im Echav; The child will go with home with his brothers.” Why is it relevant who Binyomin will go home with? Shouldn’t it say that he will go back to his anxious elderly father? Rav Eliezer Ashkenazi in Maasei Hashem answers that Yehuda was anticipating Yosef’s next question. If Yehuda was a guarantor for Binyomin, he wouldn’t spare himself from losing his Olam Haba as he promised; since he promised that he will personally present Binyomin to his father upon his return from Mitzrayim. But now Yehuda was offering to stay in bondage as a slave and would not be able to keep his promise even if Binyomin were freed.

R’ Mordechai Dov of Hornsteipel fell ill with a violent cough. He went to consult doctors in the city of Kiev, and was told that it would be necessary to sear one spot on his body with a burning-hot lance. The doctors told him in advance that the treatment was extremely painful; so painful, in fact, that the patient had to be tied to a chair in order not to move during the process. “There will be no need to tie me,” the Rebbe answered quietly. “I will not move.”
The doctor began the treatment and the Rebbe, true to his word, did not move a muscle. He did not emit as much as a groan as his skin was scorched with a searing-hot metal stick. Amazed at this incredible willpower, the doctor remarked to the Rebbe’s son, who was standing nearby, that just the day before he had performed the identical treatment on a Russian Cossack. The moment the hot lance had touched the Cossack’s skin, he had jumped out of his seat — ripping open the restraint that bound him — and escaped through the window.
The Rebbe, who overheard, surprised them all with his response: “Believe me, when a Jew comes to me and pours out the troubles that weigh down his heart, when he so desperately needs help and there is no way to help him, that pain burns more fiercely within me than even a burning-hot lance.”
Once, Rabbi Dovid Leikes, one of the main chasidim in the Chevrayah Kadisha [“holy fellowship”–special inner circle of disciples of the Baal Shem Tov], was speaking with several followers of his son-in-law, Rabbi Mottel, the Chernobyler Rebbe. “Do you have perfect faith in your Rebbe?” he asked them.
None of the men responded.
After a pause Reb Dovid persisted, “So? Nu?” Finally, one of the Chernobyl adherents responded with, “Who can say he has perfect faith?”
Reb Dovid nodded and continued. “My friends, let me tell you a story about faith. Once, several of us in the Fellowship spent a Shabbos at an inn with the Besht [acronym for ‘Baal Shem Tov’]. As was his custom, the Third Meal went late into the night, while the Rebbe told us of the mystical insights he had received while meditating, praying, and studying Torah during that Shabbos.
“When he finished speaking, we recited the ‘Blessings for After a Meal,’ and then the Evening Prayer followed by Havdalah [the ceremony for transition from Shabbat to weekday]. Immediately afterwards we sat down together with the Baal Shem Tov for Melaveh Malka .
“After a few minutes, the Baal Shem Tov turned to me and said, ‘Reb Dovid, reach into your pocket and take out a gulden [a valuable gold coin], please, and buy us some mead [honey wine] from the inn keeper.’
“I was still wearing my Shabbos clothes and of course I never carry money on Shabbos. Yet, without thought or hesitation, I reached into my pocket to take out a gulden, as my Rebbe had requested. And – the most amazing thing happened! I found a gulden in my pocket!”
The disciples of Reb Mottel Chernobyler, after hearing this story, commented to Reb Dovid, “You know, that is really not so amazing. It’s just another miracle story about the Besht.”
“Yes, I suppose that is so,” said Reb Dovid. “But I did not tell you the story in order to show that the Baal Shem Tov does miracles. My point is that my faith in my Rebbe was so great that I didn’t even think to question his request. I just reached into my pocket for the money. That it was there, is secondary!”

On That Note…..
The tale is told of a joyous wedding. The crowd danced, as peddlers and fishermen joined hands with the town’s leading citizens. All rejoiced in honor of the chosson and kallah.
The band played with vigor and energy, feeding off the exuberance of the crowd, comprised of tired, over-worked people who had left the pressures and stress of everyday life at the door of the hall.
Few noticed the look of fury that crossed the face of the band-leader as he caught sight of his drummer, who had dozed off while playing. While playing his own instrument, the band-leader reached over and slapped the face of the slumbering drummer, startling him awake. In one motion, the drummer lifted his head and resumed drumming, as if he had never stopped. The music continued.
Rav Nachman of Breslov would recount this story, commenting with great satisfaction on the outcome: “Ah potch gechapt, uhn veiter geklapt – He received a blow and he kept on playing.”
Even when he sustains a blow, the rebbe taught, a Jew must keep on making music.

Rabbi Shlomo Carlebach, the folk-singing rock-star rabbi of the ’50s, ’60s and ’70s, was born in Berlin in 1925, fled from Nazi Germany to Switzerland with his family in 1933 and arrived in New York in 1939, where his father, descended from a great line of European rabbonim, took over a small Upper West Side shul. In the 1950s, Shlomo gravitated with the Lubavitch chasidic movement and started playing guitar and writing his own music. He connected with the Greenwich Village folkies, like Bob Dylan and Pete Seeger, who helped him build a singing career. Upon his father’s death in 1967, Shlomo, along with his twin brother and despite his schedule of near-constant performing and touring, took over what’s now usually known as the Carlebach Shul, and he remained the spiritual leader there until his death, in 1994.
Shlomo Carlebach was descended from old rabbinical dynasties in pre-Holocaust Germany. The Carlebach family is a notable Jewish family originally from Germany that now lives all over the world. He was born in 1925 in Berlin, where his father, Rav Hartwig Naftali Carlebach (1889—1967), was a Rav. His family left Germany Continued next page….

in 1931 and lived in Baden bei Wien, Austria and by 1933 in Switzerland.
Shlomo Carlebach emigrated to Lithuania in 1938 where he studied at a yeshiva. In 1938 his father became the rav of Congregation Kehilath Jacob, a small shul on West 79th Street in New York City’s Upper West Side.
Carlebach studied at Yeshiva Torah Vodaas and Yeshiva Chaim Berlin in Brooklyn, New York, and Beis Medrash Gevoha in Lakewood, New Jersey. His aptitude for Torah study was recognized by great Torah scholars and teachers, among them Rav Shlomo Heiman zt”l, and the Rosh Yeshiva of Bais Medrash Gevoha, Rav Aharon Kotler zt”l. He was considered one of the top students of Rav Kotler. Rav Yitzchok Hutner, who gave Carlebach Semicha, considered it a loss to the Torah world that he chose a career in musical Jewish outreach over one as a scholar and teacher. During his yeshiva studies he was often asked to davin for the amud.
Carlebach became a disciple of Rav Yosef Yitzchok Schneersohn zt”l, the sixth Rebbe of the Chabad-Lubavitch movement. From 1951-1954, he worked as one of the first emissaries (shluchim) of Rav Menachem Mendel Schneerson zt”l, the seventh Lubavitcher Rebbe who urged him to use his special skills and go to college campuses to reconnect Jews to Judaism.
Carlebach began writing songs at the end of the 1950s, primarily based on verses from the Tanach or the Siddur set to his own music. Although he composed thousands of songs, he could not read musical notes. Many of his soulful renderings of Torah verses became standards in the wider Jewish community, including Am Yisrael Chai composed on behalf of the plight of Soviet Jewry in the mid-1960s), Pischu Li and Borchi Nafshi.
His public singing career began in Greenwich Village, where he met Bob Dylan, Pete Seeger and other folk singers who encouraged Shlomo’s singing career. They helped “Reb Shlomo” get a spot at the Berkeley Folk Festival in 1966.
He moved to Berkeley for the 1966 Folk Festival. After his appearance, he decided to remain in the San Francisco Bay Area to reach out to what he called “lost Jewish souls”–runaways and drug-addicted youth. His local followers opened a center called the House of Love and Prayer in the Inner Richmond district of San Francisco, to reach out to disaffected youth with song and dance and communal gatherings. He became known as “The Singing Rabbi.” Through his infectious music and his innate caring, many Jews feel that he inspired and reconnected thousands of Jewish youngsters and adults, otherwise lost to Judaism.
Some Carlebach melodies were entered in Israel’s annual Hasidic Song Festival. In 1969, his song Ve’haer Eneinu, sung by the Shlosharim won first prize. The Chasidic festivals were a yearly event that helped to popularize his music. He also produced albums with a more liturgical sound. Some of the musicians he worked with during this period added a psychedelic tinge and a wider range of backup instrumentation. Carlebach now spent much of his time in Israel, living in Moshav Me’or Modi’im.
Carlebach’s songs were characterized by relatively short melodies and traditional lyrics. His catchy new tunes were easy to learn and became part of the tefillah nigunim in many shuls around the world.
Returning to New York City, Carlebach also became known for his stories and chasidic teachings. As part of his performances, he spoke of inspirational subjects, rooted in Chassidism and Kabbalah. Some of his teachings have been published by his students and appear alongside his recorded songs. Carlebach spread the teachings of Chabad, Breslov, and popularized the writings of, among others, the Rebbe of Ishbitz, Mordechai Yosef Leiner, and Rebbe Kalonymus Kalman Shapira of Piasetzno.
Carlebach died of a heart attack on a flight to Canada. His body was flown to Israel for burial at Har HaMenuchos. During the funeral, the mourners sang Carlebach’s songs, including Chasdei Hashem Ki Lo Samnu. Israel’s Ashkenazi Chief Rabbi Yisrael Meir Lau gave a eulogy. An annual memorial service is held on the 16th of Cheshvan at Carlebach’s grave site.

Created By Avrohom Sherman
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