There was once a public debate between a rabbi and an astrophysicist regarding the nature of our universe. The astrophysicist, representing the atheist perspective, confidently approached the podium and began addressing the audience: “I don’t know much about Judaism, but I believe I can sum it up in a few words: Do unto others as you would have them do unto you.” With that, he went on to detail how physicists could now adequately explain the nature of our universe, without the need for religion. When he finished his speech, it was the rabbi’s turn to address the audience and represent the religious approach. With a sparkle in his eye, he turned to the crowd, and said: “I don’t know much about astrophysics, but I believe I can sum it up in a few words: Twinkle, twinkle, little star, how I wonder what you are.” With that, he went on to deliver the rest of his speech.

David and Rachel had been married for several years. They loved each other dearly, and were both kind, caring, giving people. But there was one major struggle: Rachel was blind. That didn’t matter to David, though. He helped her in every way that he could, taking her on walks, caring for her, and making sure that she always felt comfortable. Still, being blind was a daily struggle for Rachel. Ever since she could remember, she had been on a waitlist for a cornea transplant, a surgery that would finally grant her the gift of sight, the ability to see Hashem’s beautiful world. But after ten years of waiting, she had nearly given up.

In our previous article, we began exploring the nature of lashon ha’ra and the unique nature of speech in general. Speech holds the power to create relationships, lift people up, expand people’s minds, and enable genuine communication and connection.

In our previous article, we began exploring the concept of Eden, Nahar, and Gan. To review, the Torah begins by describing the creation of the physical world, culminating with the creation of man. Hashem placed Adam in Gan Eden, and the Torah then mentions that the Nahar (River) flowed from Eden toward the Gan (Garden) to water and nourish it (B’reishis 2:10).

In our previous article, we began exploring the deeper nature of Nadav and Avihu’s sin. While we began by sharing some of the more practical approaches, Rashi quotes a midrash that fundamentally shifts our perception of Nadav and Avihu. The midrash explains that Moshe already knew that two of the holiest people in klal Yisrael would die on this very day, the day of the Chanukas HaMishkan. Moshe originally thought that these two people would be Aharon and himself, but it turned out to be Nadav and Avihu instead (Vayikra 10:3). This midrash makes it clear that Nadav and Avihu were on a tremendously lofty level. If so, how could they have done something so egregiously wrong – something that resulted in such a harsh heavenly punishment?