Rabbi Winston – Parshat Vayeitzei and Pittsburgh Fallout

Ya’akov got up early in the morning and took the stone which he had placed under his head. He set it up as a monument and poured oil on the top of it. 

(Bereishis 25:18)

WE ARE NOW in Chanukah territory. Kislev has begun and the Zohar says that the 24 days of Kislev in advance of Chanukah correspond to the 24 letters of the second verse of the Shema. The 25th day, when Chanukah begins, corresponds to the 25 letters of the Shema. I now have three books on the topic: The Light of 36, Chanukah Lite, and Once Revealed, Twice Concealed, so if you want a better understanding of all of this, read the books.

It has been pointed out countless times how the miraculous military victory that led to the holiday of Chanukah plays second fiddle to the main Chanukah miracle of the Menorah. The most common explanation is that, as amazing as the military victory was, it was not impossible, just highly unlikely. Smaller armies, if clever enough, CAN bring down larger armies, and have at different points in history.

One day’s worth of oil burning for eight days IS impossible without a miracle. It’s not even a phenomenon, just plain miraculous. The military victory could not have happened without Heavenly help, but maybe it was just a temporary respite from exile. Who says it was meant to become a holiday?

But, when the oil burned for seven extra days, well, that was a whole different story. That meant G–D had changed the world, albeit temporarily for the Jewish heroes of that time. It revealed, retroactively, just how miraculous the military victory had actually been. 

It is not unlike the story of the mann. The Torah writes:

G–D told Moshe, “I am going to rain bread for you from heaven, and the people will go out each day and collect it, so that I can test you, to see if you’ll keep My Torah or not. Vehayah—on the sixth day, they should prepare that which they will bring; there will be twice the amount they collect daily.” (Shemos 16:4)

That was in advance of discovering the extra portion of mann for Shabbos. This was after it: 

Vayehi—on the sixth day they collected the double portion of bread, two omers; the leaders of the people reported it to Moshe. He said to them, “This is what G–D said . . . It is a Shabbos, a holy Shabbos to G–D . . .” (Shemos 16:22)

In the first verse, in which G–D tells Moshe of the impending miracle, it begins with the word “vehayah.” However, in the second verse about the actual collecting of the Shabbos portion, it begins with the word “vayehi.” The Talmud explains that there is a difference between these two words: “vehayah” alludes to a joyful event, and “vayehi” indicates a sad occurrence. 

Thus, the verse of when Moshe learns of the double portion begins on a happy note. The verse that records the realization of the miracle begins on a sad note. Why this difference?

Because there were two ways to collect the double portion of mann for Shabbos. The most obvious way was to physically collect two omers, and see the extra one not rot. The second way was more dramatic: collect one omer while saying, “L’chavod Shabbos Kodesh”—this is for the honor of Shabbos—and watch one omer become two!

A miracle like that would have been totally outside the natural realm, and would have transformed the entire nation. Collecting two omers and watching one not rot as it normally did would have only been a “phenomenon.” It would have been worthy of investigation, but not of much excitement. Its transformative powers would have been far weaker. 

It was to this latter category of miracle that the military victory of Chanukah belonged. It was to the first category of miracle that the miracle of the Menorah belonged. The military victory was like collecting two omers and one not rotting: not likely, but possible. The Menorah burning for seven extra days was like collecting one omer of mann and watching it become two because of a couple of words—simply impossible, without a miracle.

The same thing happens to Ya’akov Avinu in this week’s parsha as well. After he had his fantastic dream of the ladder, he built a monument to G–D and then anointed it with olive oil. Where did he find oil if Eliphaz, Eisav’s son, robbed Ya’akov of everything he owned? 

The midrash explains that a jar of oil just “happened” to be attached to the rock Ya’akov slept on. It was a highly unlikely occurrence, but not an impossible one. Stranger things have happened for the Forefathers.

But, as excited as Ya’akov was to find the oil, he became FAR more excited when he used it to anoint his monument, and he ended up with the same amount of oil with which he started. THAT was impossible, clearly a miracle.

It’s a hard thing to get used to, like getting water from a rock. We have a difficult enough time relying on “phenomena,” but it takes a real ba’al bitachon, someone who trusts in G–D completely, to believe a miracle can occur for him out of nowhere. But that is precisely what we’re supposed to be working on during this 24-day build-up to Chanukah, the belief that miracles do happen, even in the most impossible of ways. 

Connecting the Dots

Pittsburgh Fall Out

WITHIN DAYS OF the tragic Pittsburgh shooting, many tried hard to put the most horrific act of anti-Semitism in America to date in some kind of perspective. This became increasingly more necessary because of one rabbi’s controversial reaction to what happened.

Who doesn’t want to find the meaning behind such senseless killing? Who doesn’t want to figure out the message G–D might be sending us through it? 

Quite simply, without prophets to instruct us, every explanation we give is only a guess, an opinion. When prophecy stopped, so did our ability to work together with G–D to rectify the world. We’re still involved, but who knows exactly what needs to be done, and when? 

Obviously Torah and mitzvos are the name of the game. They are the basis of all tikun olam, world rectification, and a person’s reward in the World-to-Come. But plenty of people who learn Torah and perform mitzvos have suffered similar fates as those who died in Pittsburgh. Therefore, it is hard to know for sure just what is missing to make us vulnerable to such an attack. 

One thing is for certain, I find. If you wait long enough, you can at least see what the event was meant to impact. G–D is like an expert archer who never misses the His target. After a while, once things begin to quiet down, certain changes become evident that only came about because of what happened.

It still may be too early to know, but what I have seen so far, and it really stands out, is a need to talk about dying Al Kiddush Hashem, sanctifying the Name of G–D, and becoming a “Kadosh,” holy, because of it. I have watched several shirum from rabbis in America over the last few weeks, and this is the one theme that gets stressed over-and-over again. 

It makes me wonder, “Is this what G–D wants from us at this time in history?” It must be, because it is what has been happening, and G–D never misses His target. And if yes, then why? Why would G–D turn our focus to what it means to be a Kadosh at this late stage of history? 

There can be many reasons for this, one of which is just to inspire listening and spiritually sensitive people to work harder at being better people. Time is running out on history, which means that the free will era may be ending faster than anyone assumes. 

Another possible reason is a scarier one. It’s not one that people want to hear, or accept if they do. They’d rather believe that in spite of the fact that at the end of every exile, Jews have been forced to become “kadoshim,” such a thing could NEVER happen in America. 

Even though anti-Semitism grows daily.

Even though people behave less civilly each day. 

Even though Germany was the most civil country prior to WW II. 

Even though the Prophets, and later the Talmud, warned about such a finale to history. 

It is certainly something to think about as history continues to wind down, and the events of the day continue to wake us up to greater spiritual levels of existence.