AUGUST 13, 1999 VOL 2, ISSUE 46 2 ELUL 5759

 

 

Chabad of Northern Beverly Hills, 409 Foothill Road . Beverly Hills, CA 90210

Rabbi Yosef Shusterman 310/271-9063

PARSHAT SHOFTIM

In the Torah portion Shoftim we are commanded to treat trees with respect, for "Man is a tree of the field." What is the resemblance between the loftiest creature and lowly vegetation? The special quality of plants and trees lies in their attachment to the earth, the source from whence they derive their existence and nourishment. This is particularly true with regard to trees. Other plant life, such as grain, vegetables, etc., do not exist in such a continually attached state, for they soon wither and die. The fact that trees are able to withstand winter's frosts and summer's heat indicates that they have a particularly strong attachment to the earth, an attachment that enables them to endure difficult times and continue to bear fruit.

Man is a microcosm; just as the world as a whole is composed of inanimate matter, vegetable matter, animals and men, so too are these qualities to be found within each and every individual. A person's emotive traits are likened to vegetation, for they embody growth and development. And although intelligence grows as well, intellect also has an "animal" aspect in that it constantly undergoes movement and change, similar to an animal's ability to roam. Further, man's emotive traits tend to be self-limiting - a kind person is inevitably gentle, a severe person will almost always deal with others in a stern manner. For this reason too, the emotive traits are likened to vegetation. Comprehension, however, understands things as they truly are, not as the person wishes them to be. The conclusions drawn from a concept will vary according to the concept itself, leading sometimes to kindness and sometimes to severity. Just as in the macrocosm, vegetation is unique in its constant unification with its source, so too within man, the emotive powers are always attached to a person's essence. This also explains why emotional traits and tendencies are so powerful, and why it is so very difficult for a kind person to become severe, etc.

By likening man to "a tree in the field," the Torah is in effect telling us that the true test of an individual is not so much his intellectual qualities but his emotional ones; it is they that take the measure of the man. It follows that man's labor and toil with regard to self-improvement is to be directed more towards refining his emotional traits than towards refining his mind; perfecting and polishing one's emotive character has the greatest impact on a person's essence. In fact, refining one's emotive traits is deemed to be so important that intellectual comprehension is not considered complete if it does not affect one's emotions - "Know this day and take [this knowledge] unto your heart."

Just as this is so with regard to each individual, so too regarding the Jewish people as a whole: All Jews are descendants of Avraham, Yitzchak and Yaakov, and as such are constantly attached to them and their qualities. The main qualities of the Patriarchs lay not so much in matters of intellect as in emotion, for Avraham epitomized kindness and love, Yitzchak severity and fear, Yaakov mercy and beauty - the three traits that encompass the emotional spectrum. These sterling qualities - the "trees of the field" - are the birthright of each and every Jew. They must merely be revealed, refined and developed to the greatest possible extent. (From: Wellsprings by Rabbi Sholom Wineberg, Based on Likkutei Sichos Vol. XXIV, pp. 115-119)

  "Judges and law-enforcers you shall place at all your city gates." (16:18) On the personal level, "your gates" refers to the seven sensory gates of the small city that is the human body, its seven points of contact with the outside world. A person should appoint mental "judges and law-enforcers" over his eyes, ears, nostrils and mouth, to judge, weigh and filter the desirable and constructive stimuli from the negative and destructive ones. - Rabbi Shabtai Hakohen

A chassid once came to Rabbi DovBer, the `Maggid' of Mezeritch. "Rebbe," he said, "there is something I do not comprehend. When the Al-mighty commands us to do something or forbids a certain act, I understand. No matter how difficult it may be, no matter how my strongly heart craves the forbidden course, I can do what G-d desires or refrain from doing what is

 

against His will. After all, man has free choice and by force of will he can decide on a course of action and stick to it, no matter what. The same is true with speech. Though somewhat more difficult to control, I accept that it is within my power to decide which words will leave my mouth and which will not. But what I fail to understand are those precepts which govern matters of the heart; for example, when the Torah forbids us to even entertain a thought that is destructive and wrong. What is one to do when such thoughts enter his mind of their own accord? Can a person control his thoughts?"

Instead of answering the chassid's question,  Rabbi DovBer dispatched him to the hamlet of Zhitomir. "Go visit my disciple, Rabbi Zev" he, said.  "Only he can answer your question." The trip was made in the dead of winter. For weeks the chassid made his way along the roads which wound their way through the snow-laden forests of White Russia. Midnight had long come and gone when the weary traveller arrived at Rabbi Zev's doorstep. Much to his pleasant surprise, the windows of the scholar's study where alight. Indeed, Rabbi Zev's was the only lighted window in the village. Through a chink in the shutters the visitor could see Rabbi Zev bent over his books. But his knock brought no response. He waited awhile, then tried once more, harder. Still, he was completely ignored. The cold was beginning to infiltrate his bones. As the night wore on, the scene which unfolded was as incredible as it was true: the visitor, with nowhere else to turn, kept pounding upon the frozen planks of Rabbi Zev's door; the rabbi, a scant few steps away, continued to study by his fireside, seemingly oblivious to the pleas which echoed through the sub-zero night. It was almost morning when Rabbi Zev rose from his seat, opened the door, and warmly greeted his visitor. He sat him by the fire, prepared for him a hot glass of tea, and asked after the health of their Rebbe. He then led his guest - still speechless with cold and incredulity - to the best room in the house to rest his weary bones. The warm welcome did not abate the next morning, nor the one after. Rabbi Zev was the most solicitous of hosts, attending to the needs of his guest in a most exemplary manner.  The visitor, too, was a model guest, considerate and respectful of the elder scholar. If any misgivings about the midnight `welcome' accorded him still lingered in his heart, he kept them to himself. After enjoying the superb hospitality of Rabbi Zev for several days, the visitor had sufficiently recovered from his journey and apprehension to put forth his query. "The purpose of my visit," he said to his host one evening, "is to ask you a question. Actually, our Rebbe sent me to you, saying that only you could answer me to my satisfaction." The visitor proceeded to outline his problem as he had expressed it earlier to the Maggid. When he had finished, Reb Zev said: "Tell me, my friend, is a man any less a master of his own self than he is of his home? "You see, I gave you my answer on the very night you arrived. In my home, I am the boss.  Whomever I wish to admit - I allow in; whomever I do not wish to admit - I do not." (From Once Upon a Chassid by Yanki Tauber)

INSIGHTS ON THE REDEMPTION

"Appoint for yourself judges and officers in all your settlements..." (16:18) "Judges" refers to those qualified and appointed to render judgments in accord with the dictates of the Torah. "Officers" refers to those judges, if necessary even by forceful compulsion. Of the era of the redemption it is said: "I shall restore your judges as at first, and your counselors as at the beginning." (Isaiah 1:26) This verse mentions "judges" but not "officers". Instead of the latter there will be "counselors". The task of the counselors is to explain and clarify to litigants the words and decisions of the judge so that they will understand and realize how those decisions are in the peoples' best interest and for their own benefit. Thus they themselves will want to follow the court's judgments. It follows, then, that in the Messianic era there will no longer be a need for officers to enforce the law, for all shall willingly live up to their obligations. In fact, even before the actual redemption, in the present era when everything is already ready for the redemption, we no longer need "officers" forcing us to carry out our duties and obligations. Even now all is ready to carry out the word of the "judge" willingly and voluntarily. (From: Insights to Geula, Chabad in Cyberspace)

The Children of Israel are called Eretz Cheifetz, (1) for they possess numerous "precious articles" (2) in the love and fear of G-d, and in fine character traits. Bringing these traits to the surface depends entirely upon the individual stimulating them. It is clear that throughout the earth are wellsprings of living water; the difference between them is only that some are near the surface, others far. Everything therefore depends on the well-digger, his patience and perseverance. Now since Ratzon ("will") is a superior faculty that "issues decrees," rules over all the other faculties, * and compels them to act according to its orders - it follows that the essential Avoda is to arouse one's will to exercise its effect - both upon the person himself and upon others. (From Rebbe's Hayom Elul 2).

"In the place where penitents stand even the truly righteous cannot stand." I.e.., the level at which penitents stand steaedfastly cannot even be attained by the truly righteous, for the Divine radiance drawn down through repentance is of an utterly superior quality. - The Rebbe