Torah

We should be happy to avoid the Tochachah.

Before bidding farewell, Moshe Rabbeinu delivers the Tochachah, a warning of all the horrific curses and tragedies that will befall the Jewish people should they fail in their religious responsibilities. It’s one harrowing, foreshadowed catastrophe after another – nearly 100 in all! No wonder we are so eager to rush through this leining as quickly and quietly as possible.

What a difference a word makes!

Parshas R’ei opens on an intense note: There will be blessing for following Hashem’s mitzvos, and a curse for defying them. But there is a discrepancy in how these consequences are presented. While the good things will happen “when” we listen to Hashem, the bad things will only occur “if” we disobey (D’varim 11:27-28).

Friendship is not like chicken soup.

One of the many, many mitzvos in Parshas Ki Seitzei is the prohibition against mistreating a person of Egyptian descent. The Torah provides a reason for this commandment: Because you were guests in his land (D’varim 23:8). In other words, we must treat these people well, as an expression of gratitude for letting us stay in their land for several hundred years.

How much is really in our control?

In the midst of his five-week-long farewell speech, Moshe Rabbeinu informs B’nei Yisrael that Hashem does not ask much of them. “Only to fear Him,” Moshe assures the nation (D’varim 10:12).

What is true agony?

Parshas Shoftim describes those who are exempt from fighting in the Jewish army. They include: one who has built a house but has not yet enjoyed its comfort; one who has planted a vineyard but has still not harvested its fruits; and one who has engaged a woman but has not yet taken her to be his wife (D’varim 20:5-7).

“Be comforted, be comforted, My people.”

What exactly is so comforting about Shabbos Nachamu? We just completed a painful three-week process, trying to internalize how lost we are without the Beis HaMikdash. On Tish’ah B’Av, we sat on the floor and bemoaned all of the tragedies that have taken place since, and as a result of, the Churban. But has anything changed since then? Unfortunately, despite our very meaningful Tish’ah B’Av experiences, we still find ourselves in exile, bereft of a Mikdash. Why should we feel any sense of consolation – and what does Shabbos have to do with any of this?