One of the main and most fundamental contentions of all moralists of all ages is that human nature is not basically unchangeable. Ask any teacher of religion whether change is possible in Man, and his answer is inevitably “certainly.” And yet, my friends, if you were to ask me that same question I would have to qualify that assertion. Is change possible? – Yes and no. If by “change” you mean the transformation of the entire character essentials, the metamorphosis of the basic qualities of the soul, the G-d – given talents and personality attributes, the answer is No. There are certain properties of the soul with which you are born, and which you cannot change, willy nilly. Yet that is not the end of the matter. Because if by “change” you mean not the basic change of the “kochos ha’nefesh”, the powers of the soul, but the salvaging of them: not the scrapping and subduing of the fundamental drives for Man, but their redirection and channeling, the answer is a resounding and wholesome Yes. A man may not be able to rid himself of the trait of stubbornness, but he can certainly direct his stubbornness to desired and beneficial directions. Simpler still, a man may not be able to cure himself from insomnia. But he can himself determine whether these waking hours be spent counting sheep or studying Torah.The Jewish ethical literature has two names corresponding to these two types of change, and there are two schools propounding these opposing these. One group claims that the highest goal is “shviras ha’midos,” the breaking and crushing of the evil drives of man. The objectionable trait must be broken and destroyed. The other group believes this unnecessary and impracticable. Rather it proposes “tikun ha’midos,” the correction and re-direction of these dark forces, the channelling of them from the destructive ends for which they had been employed, to new and constructive ends. Redirection, not breaking and destruction, is the highest aim of ethical development. And Hassidim…

The festival of Purim, and the Book of Esther, seem to have a three-fold message for us Jews. There are three individual morals to be learned from it. The first two are, more or less, well known. Here was a people, Israel, dispersed in exile amongst the Persians and the Medes, their very existence threatened by the anti-Semite Haman. There was no way out except through the intervention of G‑d, Who finally did redeem His people. It has been pointed out that the Name of G‑d does not appear even once in the Megillah. However, this does not indicate a lesser religious spirit than one finds in other religious writings. On the contrary, the fact of G‑d is so urgent and real and self-evident to these Persian Jews, that there is no need to mention Him by name. Thus it has been pointed out that Reform Rabbis are more prone to speak about “G‑d” than Orthodox Rabbis, who stick more to practical observance of the Mitzvot because to the Orthodox, G‑d is real enough and there is no need to remind one of Him. So too to Mordecai and his generation, it is certainly G‑d who saves them, and it is because of G‑d that he refuses to bow to Haman, and therefore Mordecai’s reference to G‑d is “Makom Acher” — help will come for us, not from “G‑d,” but from “some other place,” as Mordecai says to Esther.The second moral is the national. Israel is a people torn from its homeland and very much weakened in the land of its exile. Take a foolish king, give him a cruel and arrogant vizier, and apply a liberal dash of anti-semitism, and you have jeopardized the existence of the entire people of Israel. The antidote to this poison is, of course, concerted action. Love your fellow-Jew, work against your oppressing enemy, the anti-Semite. A simple lesson in national solidarity.It is the third moral, however, which is usually overlooked and which is of great importance — that is, the individual character of Mordecai as a leader. Mordecai is by all means the undisputed hero of the Book of Esther. He is…

One of the most interesting phenomena in antiquity appears to us moderns as ludicrous, almost comical, and yet it is one of the great truths of all time – one which affects us as much as it did them. This is the custom of worshipping the gods of your enemies. Often, a victorious nation would urge the vanquished to worship its gods, since they were presumably stronger. But more often in history, the victor would end up worshipping the gods of the defeated. Thus, the legions of Israel under Joshua defeated the nations of Canaan, yet later worshipped Baal. The Philistines, too, worshipped the gods of their conquered foes. In other words, there is a tendency to fight so hard with the enemy that you adopt his techniques and his way of life. Tomorrow’s sidra tells of the war between Israel and the pagan, idol-worshipping Amalek. Amalek’s main quality was achzarius – mercilessness, cruelty, sadism – attacking a tired, weary, unoffensive Israel. We are commanded to “blot out the remembrance of Amalek” (timcheh et zecher Amalek) precisely because its zecher is mercilessness. We must eradicate it so that, in fighting it, we do not contract it. That is, we must not worship the “god” of Amalek – mercilessness itself. In fact, almost all pagans of old shared this quality as part of their idolatrous culture. Therefore, as the Maggid of Dubno explained, when we are commanded to destroy cities that persist in idol-worship, we are told: “Let your hand touch nothing of theirs” – hands off. It is a dread disease; don’t contract this contagion while trying to cure it. That cry of “hands off,” of eradicating every vestige of the Amalekian quality, was a warning to Israel for all time: not to worship the gods of enemies. Anatole France, in Thaïs, tells of a monk who goes to convert the infamous courtesan Thaïs; she becomes pure and devout, while he becomes a rascal. This is not just fiction or ancient history. Dr. Landau, a researcher and scion of a distinguished family who survived th…

It is ironical that in Israel greater emphasis seems to be laid on Purim than on Hanukkah. Whereas Hanukkah is amply celebrated, there is even greater festivity on Purim, with its colorful parades and famen’s adeloyada carnival. In the Diaspora, however, because of the coincidence of a certain non-Jewish holiday, Hanukkah is emphasized out of all proportion to its real value, whereas Purim suffers from relative neglect. I say it is "ironical" because Hanukkah is really more appropriate to a free and independent Jewish State, while Purim is more appropriate to those Jewish communities living in galut, amongst other peoples who form the majority and whose cultural patterns predominate. Hanukkah was an occasion of open rebellion, on the soil of the Holy Land, for independence. It successfully achieved the renaissance of Jewish freedom. There was no diplomacy, no apologetics; there was outright war. Purim, contrariwise, is a Diaspora holiday. It is a story about a Persian king who remains a king. It tells of a Jew who rises high in non-Jewish circles. It is a great Jewish story where, however, the uniquely Jewish element is toned down lest it give offense to the state religion of the Persian empire. This fact, usually ignored, explains not only the essence of the Purim holiday, but also clears up for us certain difficulties in the understanding of the Megillat Esther. I beg your leave to give you the gift of a study of the Megillah that appeared two years ago in the Israeli Army Journal Machanayim. I trust that it will prove a new and fascinating insight into one of the most beloved books of the Bible.Who is the real hero of the Megillah? Of course, if we refer the question to the folk-consciousness of our people, there is no doubt that the answer is either Esther or Mordecai. Remarkably, however, if we refer to the Book of the Megillah itself, we discover that the name mentioned most frequently throughout the entire book is that of King Ahasuerus. One nineteenth-centu…

The turning point in the story of Megillat Esther comes at the beginning of Chapter VI when, with a special flourish, the reader informs us of what happened after Haman had prepared the tree with which to hang Mordecai, and Esther had invited the King and Haman to a second banquet. Ba-lailah hahu nadedah shenat ha-melekh, "on that night the king could not sleep" — literally, the sleep wandered from his eyes. And then the king commanded that there be brought before him the sefer ha-zikhronot, the book of records and chronicles. There he discovered the good that Mordecai had done for him by saving his life. From that moment on, the whole fortune of the Jews in the provinces of ancient Persia changed for the better. The king's insomnia gave rise to the whole Purim story.Rashi, desiring to emphasize the importance of this verse, seems, however, to overstate the case. He says: *nes hayah*—it was a miracle. Sleeplessness a miracle? No doubt many of us would regard it as miraculous if we could sleep through one night undisturbed!Perhaps Rashi's point can better be understood by referring to the Talmud's analysis of this royal insomnia. Rabbah teaches (Megillah 15b) that Ahasuerus was disturbed by the fact that Esther had invited Haman along to these banquets she had made for her husband. He tossed and turned and wondered, *dilma etzah ka shakli iluyeh d'hahu gavra le'mikteleh*—perhaps the two of them, Esther and Haman, are plotting to kill me. Then, continued the king, why is there no man who likes me enough, who is sufficiently loyal to me, to apprise me of this conspiracy and save my life? *Hadar amar*—then Ahasuerus said to himself, perhaps there is someone who has done me a good turn but whom I have failed to compensate; maybe I have been an ingrate, and therefore I have lost the loyalty of my friends. That is why he ordered the *sefer ha-zikhronot*, or chronicles, to be read to him. And indeed, he did recall the good Mordecai had done for him. Ahasuerus’ reward to Mo…

We Jews have, for the past few years, been the subject of profound deliberations. These inner debates by a major church of our times may or may not have major consequences for our future and that of the entire world. I refer, of course, to the deliberations concerning the “Jewish Chapter” in the Ecumenical Council at the Vatican in Rome, where the princes of the Catholic Church consulted about whether or not the Jewish people today is guilty of deicide, the killing of their god. The possible ramifications of this Council are such that many Jews were overwhelmed by its significance.Yet, now that it is all over, in the perspective of history, we can see clearly that all these debates were absurd; they would be comical had they not been so tragic for so long. To think that in the latter half of the twentieth century, adults, mature minds, can actually consult as to whether Jews are guilty, partly guilty, or totally absolved of the charge of crucifixion: It would be funny were it not so demonic! It is a matter of regret that so many Jews took the issue itself, as divorced from its possible consequences, so seriously. It is pathetic to think of the numbers of Jews who every morning, during the Council sessions, opened their newspapers at their breakfast tables not to learn, out of curiosity, how the Church was acquitting itself in the eyes of history, but how they were judging our “trial” and how we were faring!Today, however, permit me to discuss with you another anti-Semitic accusation against the Jewish people: a bill of indictment, that is far older than the Christian libel, and which gives more credit to human intelligence, for it is not anywhere nearly as absurd, as preposterous, and as nonsensical as the ridiculous crucifixion charge. This indictment was drawn up by a descendant of Amalek, who held power and a position of considerable influence in the lands of the ancient Persians and Medes. I refer, of course, to Haman. According to the Megillah, this was his se…

Towards the end of the book of Esther, which we shall read this week, we are told that after their miraculous deliverance the Jews accepted upon themselves the observance of Purim forever after. Kiymu ve’kiblu, the Jews “confirmed and took upon themselves” and their children after them to observe these two days of Purim. Now, logic dictates that the two key verbs should be in reverse order: not kiymu ve’kiblu, but kiblu ve’kiymu, first “took upon themselves,” accepted, and only then “confirmed” what they had previously accepted. It is probably because of this inversion of the proper order in our verse, that the Rabbis read a special meaning into this term in a famous passage in the Talmud (Shab. 88a). When the Lord revealed Himself at Sinai and gave the Torah, they tell us, kafah alehem har ke’gigit, He, as it were, lifted up the mountain and held it over the heads of the Israelites gathered below as if it were as cask, and He said to them: “If you accept the Torah, good and well; but if not, sham tehei kevuratkhem – I shall drop the mountain on your heads, and here shall be your burial place.” Moreover, the Rabbis then drew the conclusions from this implication that the Israelites were coerced into accepting the Torah. R. Aba b. Yaakov maintained that if this is the case, then modaa rabbah l’oraita – this becomes a strong protest against obligatory nature of the Torah, it is “giving notice” to God that the Torah is not permanently binding, for the Torah is in the nature of a contract between God and Israel, and a contract signed under duress is invalid.The other Rabbis of the Talmud treated this objection with great seriousness. Thus, Rava argued that, indeed, the Torah given at Sinai was not obligatory because of the reason stated, that modaa rabbah l’oraita; but, Rava adds: af-al-pi-ken hadar kibluha bi’yemei Ahashverosh, the Israelites reaffirmed the Torah voluntarily in the days of the Purim event, for it is written: kiymu ve’kiblu, that the Israelites “confir…

There are two good reasons why I should not deliver this sermon. First, it can be argued that it is better for a Rabbi not to raise problems which might disturb the peace of mind and equanimity of his simple, devout people. And second, he ought not pose questions for which his answers are not always fully adequate. If nevertheless I have chosen to discuss this morning the moral challenge implicit in the Haftorah’s story of Samuel, it is because, first, I trust that my people are not simple and devout, but sophisticated and devout, and they are aware of the moral difficulties that I am discussing even without my broaching it to them; and, second, I have confidence in their maturity, that they know that one ought to keep the faith despite questions, that a truly religious approach is not one which presumes to have all the answers, but where one accepts even while he ponders questions and experiences their torment. In the words of one of the greatest Sages of Israel in recent generations, Rabbi Akiva Eger, פון א קושיא שטארבט מען נישט – one can survive challenges and questions; it can’t kill a person.The problem is this. The Prophet Samuel reminds King Saul of the commandment to destroy, to blot out the memory of Amalek. He urges him to undertake the campaign against this wild and uncivilized tribe, and to spare none of them, destroying even their livestock. Saul attacks the Amalekites and achieves victory. However, we read that ויחמל שאול והעם, that Saul and the people took pity upon Agag, the King of Amalek, and some of the sheep and cattle, and spared them. Apparently, Saul acted on the basis of conscience; he was a good and generous man.However, the Prophet chastises the King. Samuel reproaches Saul for having spared Agag and the cattle, and tells him that in consequence of his sin his dynasty will not last, and he will lose his crown. Samuel then orders the captive King brought before him. The King is heard to utter the words אכן סר מר המות, “indeed, the bitternes…

It is a fact of life that, except for those young people who transmuted their awareness of the Shoah (Holocaust) into active protest on behalf of Soviet Jewry, large numbers of the generation of American Jews who were born or grew up after 1948, are “turned off” by the Holocaust. For some of them, the “six million” and all that is implied by it is too imagination-staggering and therefore simply incredible. It is, truth to tell, too heavy a burden to bear, both in the guilt that it induces (and there have been several psychological studies of the guilt feelings by the survivors) and the consequences that it suggests. Hence, there has been an unconscious attempt to reduce the scope of the Holocaust. Of course, no American Jews go as far as the Polish government which, after a centuries-long experience of denying that Jews are human, let alone good Poles, now decides that the martyred Polish Jews died not as Jews but as Polish citizens, for which reasons the memorials to them at the concentration camps in Poland’s territory have no mention of their Jewishness. Rather, what has happened is that in the consciousness of many young Jews, Auschwitz has been diminished to manageable proportions by inflating the rhetoric that deals with other problems of our own times. The Holocaust experience becomes understandable, credible, assimilable, only if some of the evils of our own times are conceived of as being in the same order of wickedness. Thus, if the city provides inferior teachers for Harlem – and that is certainly a bad thing – shrill voices term that evil, “genocide!” If there are those who oppose our government on Vietnam, Cambodia, and Laos, we escalate the criticism and refer to it as – “genocide.” And sometimes some young radicals, in their utter recklessness, refer to the actions of college administrations which decide to discipline unruly protestors as – “genocide!”Thus, Auschwitz was simply another act of genocide in a whole list with which we are acquainted. It …

One of the most popular and beloved prayers of Judaism comes from today’s sidra, where we read: ויהי בנסוע הארון… “And it came to pass that when the Ark set forward, Moses would say, arise O Lord and let Thy enemies be scattered, let those who hate Thee flee before Thee. And when the Ark rested, Moses would say: return O Lord to the myriads of the thousands of Israel” (Nu. 10:35-36)In the Torah, these two verses are set off from the rest of the text by two strange orthographical symbols, the נונין הפוכין, the inverted nuns. This indicates that, somehow, the entire passage is out of place. Indeed, the Talmud (Shab. 117) declares explicitly that the passage is not in its right place: אין זו מקומה, ולמה נכתבה כאן להפסיק בין פורענות לפורענות. This is not the proper place for these two verses. Why, then, were they written here? – in order to separate between disaster and disaster. The two puranuyot or traumatic misfortunes between which the passage of ויהי בנסוע הארון serves as a welcome interruption, are, first, the episode of Israel’s complaining and murmuring. ‘ויהי העם כמתאוננים רע באזני ה, “and the people were grumbling and it was evil in ears of the Lord.” The first unhappy crisis was that of the excessive complaining of Israel, their desire for more and more. The second disaster is expressed in the words ויסעו מהר ה’ דרך שלשת ימים, “and people traveled from the mountain of the Lord for a journey of three days.” The Talmud (ibid.) interprets this as a spiritual wandering, not a physical one: ‘סרו מה. So the passage concerning the progress of the Ark interrupts between the story of Israel’s grumbling and Israel’s wandering away from the mountain of the Lord. What is the significance of all this? An important insight is offered by the late R. Mordecai Rogov, author of Ateret Mordechai. The portion of the mit’onenim is a common phenomenon in life. It is a rather normal characteristic of people that they grumble and complain. They want more money, more status, more fu…