The Pasuk says: “You stand this day, all of you, before Hashem your God, Your heads, your tribal leaders, your elders, and your officers, every person in Israel. Your babies, your wives and the convert that is inside your camp, from your woodcutter to your water drawer. To enter in the covenant of Hashem your God, which Hashem your God concludes with you this day, with its sanctions.” There are a few difficulties with the Pasuk: 1). “This day”, if it’s such an important day, why not inform us which day it was? 2). “All of you” means that every person, then why mention again; “Every person in Israel?” 3). Why listinging all the categories of people, by saying “Every person” it is understood? 4) What about the sick people, the women that were giving birth etc. how was it possible for them to attend? Rabbi Shimon Bar Yochai’s Midrash answers: that from “your tribal heads” till “your water drawer” are 10 levels of people that include every possible Jewish person. Still, it was required to repeat “Every person in Israel” to inform us, that although heads, judges, elders, and law officers were appointed, all are equal before Hashem, as it is stated “Every person in Israel.” Before Hashem there’s no difference between the most exalted and learned Rabbi and the water drawer who frequents the Shul only for the prayers. In our society, the social ladder impacts our judgement, we’re drawn to respect the rich and the important, but don’t even see the poor, the afflicted, the orphan and the widow. Thus, the Zohar states; that in a congregation the prayers of the congregants are accepted only because of the poor that are present. All prayers are “checked” by Angels if they are fit to be presented to Hashem. However, not the prayer of the poor and the afflicted, which goes up without interference, and anyone praying with them gets the same treatment. Besides, when a rich person “helps” the poor, it’s called “Tzedakah”, which doesn’t mean “charity”, but “Justice”. It’s intriguing that the Torah is extremely severe with the prohibition of stealing’, as by working to earn his money, the person’s soul becomes attached to his belongings. Therefore, stealing is in part a level of killing. Then, when a person gives away his hard-earned money, he gives away in part himself, so why shouldn’t it be considered “charity”? The Zohar provides a shocking answer. When a person gives money to the needy, “Who’s helping who?”, the Zohar says the poor helps the rich. As the rich only shares with him “worldly possessions”, which benefits have a limited scope, while the poor provides him “Eternal benefits”, as he saves him from the “Judgement Day” and the fire of Gehinom. Hashem says, I have purposely created the poor to enable people to inherit the “world to come”. The benefits to the rich far exceeds the benefits to the poor. The Zohar states: Hashem is responsible for the well-being of all his creatures and is therefore liable for the poor’ livelihood. However, out of His infinite Goodness, He entrusted the rich with the poor’s money and requested that the rich help the poor so that in return the poor will help the rich gain the world to come. Thus, by giving Tsedaka the rich accomplishes a few Mitzvos: 1). he’s accomplishing the will of Hashem to help the poor. 2). he, somehow, does Hashem’s work. 3). he shows his trust in Hashem by believing this is what’s requested of him. 4). He believes in the words of our Saint Thora… The Rambam warns: if you harbor ill feelings toward the needy, you’re a Rasha, a wicked, a miscreant. Be very careful as there’s a covenant between Hashem and the poor, “whenever he calls, I will listen” as stated in Exodus [22:26]. The Tur mentions it in Shulchan Aruch [Y.D 247:1]. Therefore, the interaction with poor people is very delicate, as the Zohar says, they are the closest to Hashem. Rabbi Shimon Bar Yochai explains: This is the reason the Pasuk, besides mentioning “Every person” also lists the 10 categories of people present at the covenant. Just as the 10 commandments were divided in 2 tablets, so are the 10 categories mentioned in the Pasuk. So, the “Heads”, the most exalted and holy are first in their column, while the “Water drawers” are first of the second column and are next to each other. This teaches us, that to Hashem’s eyes the “Heads” are equal to the “Water drawers”, which are poor, unlearned. Despite that, the Torah put them on the top because of their proximity to Hashem, just as the most Exalted and Holly Rabbis. Now it’s self-explanatory why the Pasuk had to also mention “Every person in Israel” to symbolize the traits of love and unity we must have towards our fellows. We shall care that each family has it needs. In return, the needy will pray for those who helped him, and will immediately be showered with Hashem’s blessings. This is the secret of a blessed and successful New Year. Here’s a beautiful insight to prepare for Rosh Hashana: Toronto, September 15, 1958, the first day of Rosh Hashana, a man blasted in the synagogue screaming; “I need a Rabbi! Help me! I need a Rabbi right now!” The shocking, ear-splitting cry shattered the stillness in the synagogue. The first 30 blasts of the shofar had been sounded, and the community was in the middle of Shmonei Esrei, praying with utmost concentration, as the lives of their family depended upon their prayers on this day of judgement. A wild-eyed man, broken, cowed, his body trembling with deep wracking sobs, hid his face in his hands and whimpered the words, over and over, completely oblivious to the shocked onlookers. Despite being deeply immersed in the holy prayers, the Rabbi Rav Dovid Shochet, closed his Machzor, prayer book and left the pulpit to soothe the pain of a fellow Jew in crisis. At the time, the Rabbi was a young 26-year-old Rabbi who had been sent immediately after he had married as an emissary of the Lubavitcher Rebbe to bolster Jewish life in Toronto. With tender compassion, the Rabbi guided the man to a chair and urged him to sit down before pouring him a glass of water. Tears gushed from the man’s eyes as he divulged his saga. His beloved wife had taken ill unexpectedly and deteriorated quickly to the point that the doctors determined that there was nothing that they could do to save her. She would be dead within 48 hours. “Rabbi, please help me. What do I do now?” The man explained that though completely unaffiliated, he had passed the Chabad center often, as he lived on the next block, and had come there straight from his wife’s hospital bed for guidance. In their conversation, The Rabbi explained to the heartbroken man that a most significant and meaningful way to memorialize the dead was to recite the Mourner’s Kaddish. The 2,000-year-old prayer is dedicated to praising G-d and is recited at the daily morning, afternoon, and evening prayers with a minyan for 11 months. “Traditionally, the Kaddish is said by children for their parents. Do you perhaps have a son who can honor your wife in this way?” The Rabbi asked, although the man did not look old enough to have a child who would be able to fulfil this duty. “My only child is an 18-month-old baby girl,” said the man. “But I will do it. I will honor my wife, the love of my life! Although I have never frequented a synagogue before, even on the High Holidays, I commit to doing what I need to do!” The Rabbi explained that this would involve putting on tefillin each morning and praying three times a day with the congregation in the synagogue. “I understand completely. Right here, right now, I pledge to fulfill my obligation.” The strength of the man’s resolve was evident in his red-rimmed eyes as he turned to meet The Rabbi’s gaze. “Clearly, G-d wants a relationship with you in which you connect to Him and invite Him into your life. G-d knew that you would step up and take responsibility to honor your wife by showing up in synagogue and praying every day,” The Rabbi said. “This is what G-d wants of you.” The man contemplated The Rabbi’s words. “So, tell G-d, ‘I understand what You want, and I want to do what You want me to do.’ Accept upon yourself to have this relationship with G-d, and then there is no reason for your wife to die.” In the midst of his pain, the man ratified his deal with G-d. At the conclusion of the Rosh Hashanah holiday, The Rabbi called the Lubavitcher Rebbe’s office in Brooklyn, N.Y., to recount the details of the events that had taken place and to give the Rebbe the woman’s name for a blessing. When he later visited the hospital, he found that the woman was recuperating and was expected to be discharged in the next few days. The next morning—and at the three daily prayers for the following 11 months—The Rabbi and the community greeted the grateful husband. “This is the essence of Judaism’’ The Rabbi explained his congregants. “We must always ask ourselves: ‘What does G-d want from me?” “Sometimes,” continued The Rabbi, “G-d sends us difficult challenges. But like a loving parent, these predicaments are to help us grow personally and develop an even stronger relationship with Him. And often, we can avoid the situation by learning the lesson and connecting more deeply even without having to undergo the hardship or difficulty. At any given time and place, our connection with G-d is able to grow, even if we have to dig deep and be creative because it’s not the way we have connected with Him before.”

Rabbi Fridmann

By Rabbi Fridmann * [email protected] * 305.985.3461

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