Parshas VaEschanan
By: Rabbi Price
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this Shiur Parshas VaEschanan Everybody knows that the Shabbos after Tisha B’Av is always Parshas VaEschanan and it is called, “Shabbos Nachamu.” This is because the Haftorah-portion of he Prophets read after he Torah portion is from Yeshaya 40:1 and begins, “ðçîå ðçîå òîé éàîø àìå÷éëí-‘Be consoled, be consoled my nation,’ says your G-D.” In the sefer Mayana Shel Torah-Wellsprings of Torah, by Rabbi Alexander Zushia Friedman, he brings that the Dubner Magid asks why is the word “be consoled,” repeated twice? He explains that the biggest pain of the Jews in exile is that the Gentiles say that we were abandoned by G-D and He doesn’t want to know us anymore. We will never be able to return to Him. Therefore the biggest consolation for us is that Hashem tells the Prophet to tell us that He is going to console us and He is still our G-D. This is the greatest consolation for us which will strengthen us. This is what the Prophet is saying, “Be consoled-this alone should already console you,” that “be consoled my nation,’ says your G-D.” That Hashem is sending you words of consolation and is proclaiming that He is your G-D. This is the biggest consolation in the exile. The Dubner Magid, who is famous for his parables, then proceeds to explains this with a parable. Two husband left their wives and traveled far away. One, who was poor, had to travel far away to find sustenance for their home. The other, who was quite wealthy, could not live in peace with his wife, so he left. After not hearing from their husbands for a while, the wives sarted to inquire from the incoming merchants if they heard anything about their husbands. Finally a big merchant came and said that he spoke to their husbands and had regards for them. He even had letters for them. However, he requested to rest one day from his tedious journey before unloading his packages and finding the letters. The wife of the wealthy fellow left with complete satisfaction. However, the wife of the poor fellow kept begging the merchant to give her the letter immediately. The merchant asked her, “Why are you more impatient than the other woman?” The woman replied, “The other woman is not lacking for anything. She was only worried that her husband had abandoned her and would never return. The moment she heard that her husband sent regards and even a letter she was satisfied and wasn’t so obsessed to see what was actually written in the letter. The mere fact that he sent a letter was enough to console her. But I have no food and clothing in the house and I am very curious to know what my husband wrote in the letter about finding a source of sustenance.” So too over here. The Prophet is saying, “Be consoled-this alone should already console you,” that “be consoled my nation,’ says your G-D.” That Hashem is sending you words of consolation and is proclaiming that He is your G-D. This is the biggest consolation in the exile. I heard a beautiful insight about this point from Rabbi Yissochor Frand about the destruction of the second Temple. The Gemoros in Taanis 26a and Baba Basra 121a-121b discuss the great Yom Tov-Festival of Tu B’Ov-the 15th of the month of Ov. There are different opinions as to why it was such a Yom Tov. The Gemoro in Baba Basra 121b brings the opinion of Rav Masna that it was the day that the many victims of the great city of Beitar massacre merited to be buried. In fact, Rav Masna says that on that day they were buried, they instituted the fourth blessing of Grace After Meals- “Hatov VeHameitiv-“Who is Good and Who does Good.” “Hatov-that the bodies didn’t decay. “VeHametiv-that they merited burial. Rabbi Frand said that this Gemoro always perplexed him. He said, “Imagine the Jews come in to Beitar and find hundreds of thousands of bodies [according to the Gemoro in Gittin it was 4 million] lying there in the open field massacred by the Romans. For this you make a Blessing?! For this you make a Yom Tov?! “The pshat-explanation is,” Rabbi Frand answers, “is that this was right after the destruction of the second Beis HaMikdash and The Jewish people thought that Hashem had abandoned them. [As if He was saying] That’s it! You’re divorced! I don’t want to have anything to do with you! The Beis HaMikdash was destroyed, thousands of people were killed, they’re marched off into exile, an exile that we are still in today. The Jewish People threw up their hands and said that Hashem has had it with us! It’s over! Then they came into Beitar and saw these bodies and they realized that far from Hashem divorcing them, He made a miracle for them that the bodies didn’t decay as they should have normally, and they were allowed to be buried.. They thought to themselves that This Master of the World, we thought He abandoned us. But, look at that, an open miracle-they didn’t decay and they were allowed to be buried. So the Jewish People came to the conclusion that Hashem hasn’t abandoned us! We’re still His nation and He still loves us. And that is an occasion for a Yom Tov. For that you create a blessing, because we are not alone. We are taught to emulate Hashem. So we have to apply what Hashem did for us to how we deal with others. One of the worst feelings that one could have when things are going wrong is the feeling of abandonment. When one thinks that no one cares about him. That’s why it’s important to try to help someone when he’s down; even if you don’t succeed, you at least show him that he’s not alone. Rabbi Frand also brought a Gemoro Moed Katan 21b, "îòùä åîúå áðéå ùì øáé ò÷éáà.ðëðñå ëì éùøàì åäñôéãåí äñôã âãåì. áùòú ôèéøúï,òîã ø'ò ...åàîø....îðåçí àðé îôðé ëáåã ùòùéúí." “There was story that the two children of Rabbi Akiva died and all of the Jews came and made a great eulogy. When they left, Rabbi Akiva stood up…and said, ‘I’m comforted because of this great honor that you have done.’” Rabbi Frand asked, “What words of comfort did they provide for Rabbi Akiva? What can you say to a person under such circumstances?” Rabbi Frand answered, “You know what I think, they didn’t have to say anything, but they came. They showed that they cared and that’s the greatest ðçîä-comfort.” In fact, he brought a story with Rav Avraham Pam, ztl., who went to comfort a family who lost a child. He sat down with them and started crying. He cried for twenty minutes then he got up and said the traditional words said when leaving a mourner,”HaMakom Yenachem esechem….May the Omnipresent console you….” and left. Those parents commented afterwards that that was the biggest consolation that they received. Rabbi Frand concluded, “And that is an important lesson, that sometimes it’s not important what you say or if you say anything. It’s to show the person that you’re there.” I saw a moving article on Aish.Com, from Rabbi Benjamain Blech about consoling the mourner that concurs with this point. He writes, “That's why I've come to a personal conclusion about what it is that makes a condolence call best fulfill its function. In three words: just be there. What mourners need most is the gift of you. Words often miss their mark. They may hurt as often as they heal. What leaves no room for misunderstanding, however, is a simple hug, a shared tear, the language conveyed by our presence. It is a truth I came to best realize in one of the most remarkable shiva visits I ever witnessed. The mourner was a young widow, a mother of four, who had suddenly and without warning lost her husband, a brilliant Talmudic scholar and revered teacher of hundreds of devoted students. We came to the shiva house, colleagues, friends and disciples. None of us knew what to say. Nervously, we attempted some conversation. All eyes suddenly turned to the door as we noticed the arrival of Rabbi Moshe Feinstein, of blessed memory, one of the greatest rabbinic luminaries of the generation. We held our breaths in anticipation. What would this great scholar have to say to the widow? What wisdom would he be able to impart to ease her suffering? What could we learn from the way he handled the situation? Rabbi Feinstein started to tell the mourners what a great man the deceased was, how learned, how pious, how righteous. But after no more than two sentences the rabbi choked up and could say no more. He wept, tried again -- and then remained silent. He sat for about 20 minutes all the while making clear his grief. He then rose and offered the traditional words recited for the occasion: “May the Lord comfort you amongst the mourners of Zion and Jerusalem.” And after he was gone and for many days thereafter the widow would tell everyone how much she had gained from that visit. No, it was not the words that mattered. None of us will ever find words comforting enough, wise enough, profound enough to undo the tragedy or to minimize it. It was simply fulfilling what Jewish law teaches us to do at a time such as this. We are to show by our presence that we too are affected by the loss. We are to demonstrate by our sorrow that we share in some measure the pain of the mourners. We are to illustrate by recounting our memories of the departed that the life that is no more will continue in our minds and in our hearts, offering a measure of immortality to the deceased. We are to make clear to those who suffer that we will always continue to be there for them because we are part of a greater community that understands that all of us are responsible one for another. This is why shiva, when properly observed, has the power to console and to comfort countless generations.” May Hashem help us to learn these lessons and apply them.
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| Uploaded: | Sunday, July 18, 2010 |