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Rabbi Shaya's Thoughts

Was Moses Projecting?

Projection occurs when someone, either unconsciously or consciously, attributes their own thoughts, feelings, or behaviors to someone else. It’s a defense mechanism, a way of coping. 

This kind of behavior is generally frowned upon, especially when exhibited by a leader. That’s why it was so surprising to have seen Moses, of all people, appear to have done exactly that.

This week’s Torah portion, Devarim, begins to relate a thirty-six-day speech delivered by Moses to the Jewish people. In it, he recounted their journey through the desert and their highs and lows, and prepared them for entry into the Land of Israel.

As part of this speech, Moses reminded the Jewish people of the episode of the spies and its consequences, which led to their wandering in the desert for thirty-eight years. Then, he added a brief but startling statement: Because of that one incident, he was not permitted to enter the Land of Israel.

Is this a classic case of projection? After all, the Torah clearly tells us that Moses was denied entry to the Land because he hit the rock instead of speaking to it after Miriam passed away. That was his action, not theirs.

Why, then, would Moses seem to blame the people for a punishment that he himself caused?

To understand Moses’s comment, we need to look at the broader context of his statements.

Moses explained that of all those who left Egypt forty years ago, only two individuals, Joshua and Caleb, would enter the Land. (Everyone else entering was born in the desert, meaning this generation was younger than forty years old.) Joshua and Caleb were the only spies who had spoken positively about conquering the Land.

But this raises a question: If Joshua and Caleb were equally righteous in that moment, why was Joshua appointed leader over all twelve tribes, while Caleb led only one?

Moses addressed this very point by explaining the leadership transition: Since he would not be leading the people into the Land of Israel, Joshua, his successor, would take on that role. Caleb, though virtuous, was not chosen for that position.

So rather than projecting blame, Moses revealed the chain of events that led to a new chapter of leadership. His words were not about shirking responsibility, but about framing the future.

Moses did not enter the Land of Israel because of the episode of the rock. Joshua would lead the Jews because of the story of the spies.

It is so easy to take things out of context. How rewarding it is when we place facts in the right setting.

Shabbat Shalom

Freedom Is Chosen

Once upon a time, a father took his child on a long journey to find a doctor, a specialist. On the way back home, once the child was feeling better, the father pointed out the many stops they had made along their long and treacherous journey: “Here is where we slept for the night. Here is where you shivered from the cold. Here is where your head started hurting badly,” and so on. Why did the father point out all of these moments? Was it just to make small talk, or was there a deeper message he was trying to convey?

This story is brought up in the Midrash of this week’s Torah portion, Massei, to explain the deeper meaning behind the Torah’s listing of the forty-two stops the Jewish people made on their way from Egypt to the Land of Israel.

The Midrash doesn’t just call out a few notable it recalls the entire journey, reminding us of what the Jews went through. The first night after leaving Egypt, they had a good night’s sleep. As they continued into the desert, however, the cold began to affect them, so G-d provided them with clouds of glory, creating a protective barrier between them and the elements. By the third stop, they began to complain and question. It was as if, collectively, their heads began to ache.

Of course, there were many more stops along the way. But even these three examples offer more than just a sampling—they hint at the challenges that the Jewish people faced over their forty years in the wilderness and their stages of growth.

In the story, the father points out their struggles only on the journey home. Similarly, the Torah recalls these experiences some forty years after it happened, at the edge of the Promised Land, to help us learn from the past.

G-d desires that we have free choice. He didn’t want us to leave Egypt because He took us out. He wanted us to want to leave on our own volition, but we couldn’t. We needed Him. So how do free will and Divine intervention coexist? If G-d is doing the work, do we really have a choice? Is our future preordained, or are we the ones steering the wheel?

These three stages from the journey help guide us toward true independence:

-We must take ownership of our lives. Rest is more than just shutting down. It’s tuning in. It’s a chance to reflect on what makes me who I am.

-Once we begin to understand ourselves and our purpose in this world, we must cool down, taking the time to internalize that reflection, becoming our own person.

-Only then can we reach our ultimate goal: true freedom, the ability to think for ourselves.

G-d gives us guidance, but He doesn’t want robots. He wants people who think for themselves, who live with awareness, who express their individuality … because they know who they are.

Reflecting on our past, on our journey, helps us bring our inner soul into our everyday lives.

Shabbat Shalom

What’s Our Plan for Gaza?

 We live in challenging times. 

Granted, we live in far better times than Jews did throughout most of history, yet it’s still far from perfect. There’s anti-Semitism in many places that we look. Israel, our beloved homeland, is fighting on multiple fronts, defending the Jewish people from those who have sworn to destroy us. This is what the Torah calls “Galut,” exile, a time when we’re unable to live freely and observe the mitzvot without resistance or fear. 

When it comes to Israel and the war in Gaza, it’s critical that we think beyond the present moment. We need to ask so many questions: How does this end? What is the plan for peace? The return of the hostages to their families must be a priority, but how do we get there? Do we destroy the enemy so there’s no one left in Gaza? Or do we abandon the goal of removing Hamas and learn to live with a sworn enemy at our border? Do we hope and pray that the Palestinians come to realize we don’t hate them, and that maybe, just maybe, they can stop hating us?

I don’t have the answer to this dilemma. But perhaps we can find some insight in this week’s Torah portion, Balak, and allow it to shed some light on our perspective. 

In Parshat Balak, we read how Balak, the king of Moav, hired the prophet Bilaam to curse the Jewish people. Bilaam, try as he might, couldn’t curse them. Instead, he blessed them repeatedly. Not only did he bless the Jews, but he also went so far as to describe how incredible life will be when Moshiach comes. 

His words are poetic and mysterious, so we have to look deeper to truly understand them. 

Amongst the statements that Bilaam, a known anti-Semite, says, is that when Moshiach comes, the enemies of the Jews will be destroyed. 

As you read this verse, it is hard to believe that he really said that.  

A – Even if he was unable to curse the Jews, would he really say that his own people would be wiped out? 
B – The Torah teaches in multiple places that non-Jews, too, will experience the redemption of Moshiach.  

So how do we make sense of Bilaam’s words? 

One perspective is this: The Jewish people’s enemies won’t be destroyed physically, but their traits will be. They’ll no longer be anti-Semitic. They’ll no longer see Jews as enemies. They’ll recognize G-d and the Jewish people for who we truly are. They, too, will even join in building a more G-dly world. 

“Galut” isn’t just a dark time for us—it’s also a time of confusion for the nations of the world. Just like we can sometimes lose our spiritual focus and push G-d and Torah to the side, the rest of the world does, too. 

By understanding our current reality—the confusion, the chaos, the lack of spiritual clarity—we can see that most likely, true peace won’t come from political deals or military victories alone. True peace will come with the coming of Moshiach. 

May we merit to see that day—soon. 

Shabbat Shalom.

True Love

 What does it mean to love someone unconditionally, without a specific reason or a deep personal bond?

Might it come from understanding them well, or perhaps just accepting them for who they are? On the one hand, the better you understand a person, the better you get to know them, and the stronger the bond. On the other hand, one could say that the mind becomes a hindrance to the connection that you are trying to create, and if you could just remove all the obstacles and connect soul to soul—no thinking, no emotions, just being there for the other person—you will be truly present. However, you might then ask, to whom am I connecting?
 
We experience this dilemma when we try to connect to G-d as well. We want to understand G-d’s commandments, yet there are some that make no sense to us. How do we connect? Because we understand? Or because He said so?

In this week’s Torah portion, Chukat, we learn about the “red heifer.” The red heifer is the poster-child of a Chuk-–a law that is beyond comprehension. Now, there are quite a few mitzvot
in the Torah that are difficult to understand, but within those laws, there are at least details that are reasonable, comprehensible, that we can wrap our minds around. However, when it comes to the red heifer, every detail about it just does not sit well with us.

To illustrate the difference between a mitzvah that makes no sense at all vs. one that makes a little sense: We can engrave a word into a stone, and when we do so, the word and the stone
become one. However, what happens if we engrave the word so deeply that we make a hole all the way to the other side? In such a case, the word is not only engraved, but it can be filled up again and no longer visible so it becomes one with the stone forever. It is a much deeper connection.

While having a deep understanding of a person gives us a better appreciation of that person, it also limits our appreciation. If we can connect to someone without any inhibitions, “just
because,” we are truly free to connect soul to soul. Once we reach that bond, we can layer it up with reason and emotion. Now we can have our cake and eat it, too.

Shabbat Shalom.

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