Who Tells Me Anything?

A woman called a local hospital. "Hello," she said. "I'd like to talk with the person who gives the information regarding your patients. I'd like to find out if the patient is getting better, doing as expected or getting worse."&nbsp;

The voice on the other end of the line said, "What is the patient's name and room number?"&nbsp;

"Sarah Cohen in Room 302," the woman answered.&nbsp;

"I will connect you with the nursing station."&nbsp;

"3-A Nursing Station.&nbsp;How can I help you?"&nbsp;

"I would like to know the condition of Sarah Cohen in Room 302."&nbsp;

"Just a moment, let me look at her records. Oh, yes. Mrs. Cohen is doing very well. In fact, she's had two full meals, her blood pressure is fine, her blood work just came back as normal, she's going to be taken off the heart monitor in a couple of hours and, if she continues this improvement, Dr. Weiss is going to send her home Tuesday at noon."&nbsp;

"Thank G-d!" the woman said. "That's wonderful! Oh! That's fantastic, what wonderful news!"&nbsp;

The nurse said, "From your enthusiasm, I take it you must be a family member or a very close friend!"&nbsp;

"Not exactly," the woman said. "I'm actually the patient herself; I’m Sarah Cohen in 302! Nobody here tells me anything."&nbsp;

The Long Journey&nbsp;

The drama was almost complete. The people exiled in a foreign country for more than two centuries, and for much of that time in unbearable conditions, experienced a miraculous liberation through direct and manifested intervention by the Creator. At Mt. Sinai, G-d and Israel&nbsp;enter into a mutual covenant to become partners in&nbsp;“tikkun&nbsp;olam:”&nbsp;repairing a world estranged from its essence. Never again in history would G-d completely part the veils that conceal Him, communicating His presence to an entire nation.&nbsp;

Forty days later, in a moment of collective insanity, the people deny G-d. They substitute the moral sovereign of the universe with a golden calf. G-d now views His attempt to mold a people into a "kingdom of princes and a sacred nation" as a colossal failure. He sees no value anymore in the Jewish experience. Moses stands up to G-d, eliciting from Him a deeper chord in His relationship with Israel. G-d re-embraces the people and instructs them to build a home in their midst for His elusive presence. In this sanctuary, the all-pervading truth of  G-d would be more manifest and accessible. The Jewish people en mass&nbsp;present&nbsp;to Moses large amounts of gold, silver, copper and many other materials required for the construction of an exquisite tabernacle. Moses appoints brilliant architects, sculptors, and designers to build the home, design the vessels, carve out the furniture and craft the items that would make up the new Divine home.&nbsp;

At the opening of the Torah portion of&nbsp;Pekudei<a href="javascript: void(0);" id="_edn1" onclick="ty.scrollTo('_ednref1')">[1]</a>, the work is complete. Soon, the sanctuary would be erected and the Divine presence would reside therein. This is a charged moment, a dramatic peak in a long and turbulent journey of a people. After all of the ups and downs, G-d is about to "move in" with the Jewish people.&nbsp;

The hero of the story is, no doubt, Moses. With courageous selflessness, he triumphed, over G-d, as it were. He is the man responsible for bringing the people—and&nbsp;G-d—to&nbsp;this extraordinary moment, when humanity would reintroduce G-d to a world that banished Him.&nbsp;

Time for Bookkeeping&nbsp;

But wait. Right at this moment, the Torah interrupts the narrative, shifting the story from creating a space for G-d in this world, to the realm of bookkeeping. Moses, at this point, presents a detailed account of all the wealth contributed to him for the construction of the tabernacle. He reports to the people how many pounds of gold, silver, and copper he received, and how exactly it was used in the structure. He gives an account for every last piece of jewelry and metal that came into his hands.&nbsp;

Why? The Midrash<a href="javascript: void(0);" id="_edn2" onclick="ty.scrollTo('_ednref2')">[2]</a> relates that some Jews murmured about Moses stealing some of the money, using charity funds for his own purposes. Thus, Moses gave a detailed account of the destination of every “dollar” collected in the grandiose “building campaign.”&nbsp;

This is a simple but very telling scene. Moses, let us recall, is the spiritual giant of history, whom Maimonides defined as the greatest human being to ever walk the earth<a href="javascript: void(0);" id="_edn3" onclick="ty.scrollTo('_ednref3')">[3]</a>. "G-d would speak to Moses face to face, as a man would speak with his friend," the Bible says<a href="javascript: void(0);" id="_edn4" onclick="ty.scrollTo('_ednref4')">[4]</a>.&nbsp;"Not so my servant Moses," G-d thunders on Aaron and Miriam after they had gossiped about him.&nbsp;"In My entire house he is the trusted one. Mouth to mouth do I speak to him, in a clear vision and not in riddles; he gazes at the image of G-d. Why do you not fear to speak against&nbsp;My&nbsp;servant, Moses<a href="javascript: void(0);" id="_edn5" onclick="ty.scrollTo('_ednref5')">[5]</a>?"&nbsp;

Does a man who speaks to G-d face to face really need to prove that he is not using money for a cruise in the Caribbean, for a new BMW or to build his portfolio? The Jews, observing Moses' unparalleled devotion and love to them in the most trying of circumstances, knew full well that Moses was no charlatan. If G-d trusts him, they could trust him too. Even if some Jewish rabble-rousers murmured about Moses stealing some of the money, we would expect Moses to ignore them.&nbsp;

"Who do they think they are to question my integrity," we would expect Moses to think to himself. "I gave my life for these rebels when G-d wanted to destroy them. After all, it was G-d Himself who appointed me to my present position, against my will<a href="javascript: void(0);" id="_edn6" onclick="ty.scrollTo('_ednref6')">[6]</a>. How dare they challenge my honesty?"&nbsp;

These feelings would be understandable. Yet, astonishingly, without even being asked or instructed to do so, Moses, in total humility, stands up and gives an accounting for every last penny that came into his hands.&nbsp;

One of the great&nbsp;Halachik&nbsp;authorities, Rabbi Joel&nbsp;Sirkish&nbsp;(1561-1640), known as the "Bach," derives a law from this episode<a href="javascript: void(0);" id="_edn7" onclick="ty.scrollTo('_ednref7')">[7]</a>: Even the most beloved and believable collectors of charity are obliged to give a detailed account to the community of the destination of every cent they collected for charity. Nobody, writes the Bach, could be trusted more than Moses, the man whom G-d Himself trusted. Yet even he felt compelled to give an accounting of all the contributions.&nbsp;

An interesting historical note: The Bach was extremely wealthy. He was the Rabbi of Cracow and he lent the community enormous sums of money. He fed and supported many of his students, distributing enormous sums for charity.&nbsp;&nbsp;

This is one of the great moral messages of Judaism: When it comes to somebody else’s money, be accountable for every dollar. Don’t cover up, don’t lie, and don’t deceive. You can’t lie to people and then be honest with G-d, with your wife, with your children, with your friends.&nbsp;

If only Bernie Madoff would have internalized this story…&nbsp;

We all need and thus appreciate money. Some of us love money. Even spiritual leaders need money and often cherish it deeply.&nbsp;Rabbis are also only human beings.&nbsp;That is not evil.&nbsp;The story turns ugly when we&nbsp;become dishonest with&nbsp;our money. We must learn from Moses:&nbsp;to always be able to give an account&nbsp;for&nbsp;every dollar that came into our hand.&nbsp;

Respecting&nbsp;Another&nbsp;Person&nbsp;

There is yet something deeper. Moses truly believes in the dignity of the people and in their right to know what has transpired with their contributions. Moses does not allow his spiritual greatness and extraordinary authority to implant in his psyche a sense of superiority over the masses, in which it is beyond his ego to give them a detailed account of his spending. On the contrary, he views his G-d-given power as a means to confer dignity and greatness upon all of the people.&nbsp;

Moses set an example for all the generations to come. The great Jewish leaders always understood that what qualified them as leaders and teachers and what bestowed upon them the right to power was not their charisma, brilliance, skills, or even the fact that the Almighty Himself appointed them to their position. It was, rather, the fact that deep down in their hearts they really viewed their "subjects" as equals. They possessed a sincere belief that dignity was the property of all.&nbsp;

Insecure leaders must resort to fear and tyranny in order to ensure loyalty and secure their position. They must speak in the name of authority rather than in the name of integrity. They must remain aloof and superior and never allow the simple folk too much access to the truth. Vulnerability is too dangerous. At best, they create followers. Genuine leaders, on the other hand, gain the trust, appreciation, and affection of their people, because of their trust in the people and their unyielding faith in the majesty of every individual human being molded in the image of the Divine. They create leaders.&nbsp;

This is true about all of our relationships in life. If you wish to inspire genuine loyalty, in a marriage, in the workplace, or in friendships, you must learn to genuinely accept the other person as an equal, conferring upon him or&nbsp;her the&nbsp;dignity you hold dear for yourself<a href="javascript: void(0);" id="_edn8" onclick="ty.scrollTo('_ednref8')">[8]</a>.&nbsp;

________&nbsp;

<a href="javascript: void(0);" id="_ednref1" onclick="ty.scrollTo('_edn1')">[1]</a> Exodus 38:21.&nbsp;

<a href="javascript: void(0);" id="_ednref2" onclick="ty.scrollTo('_edn2')">[2]</a> Shmos&nbsp;Rabah&nbsp;51:6.&nbsp;

<a href="javascript: void(0);" id="_ednref3" onclick="ty.scrollTo('_edn3')">[3]</a> Rambam, commentary on Mishnah, introduction to Sanhedrin chapter 11.&nbsp;

<a href="javascript: void(0);" id="_ednref4" onclick="ty.scrollTo('_edn4')">[4]</a> Exodus 33:11.&nbsp;

<a href="javascript: void(0);" id="_ednref5" onclick="ty.scrollTo('_edn5')">[5]</a> Numbers 12 7:8.&nbsp;

<a href="javascript: void(0);" id="_ednref6" onclick="ty.scrollTo('_edn6')">[6]</a> Exodus chapter 3.&nbsp;

<a href="javascript: void(0);" id="_ednref7" onclick="ty.scrollTo('_edn7')">[7]</a> Yoreh&nbsp;Daah&nbsp;section 257. Cf. an interesting story related by his son-in-law, Rabbi David Segal, known as the "Taz," in his "derashos" for&nbsp;Parshas&nbsp;Pekudei.&nbsp;

<a href="javascript: void(0);" id="_ednref8" onclick="ty.scrollTo('_edn8')">[8]</a> This essay is based on a talk delivered by the&nbsp;Lubavitcher&nbsp;Rebbe,&nbsp;Shabbas&nbsp;Pekudei&nbsp;5744, March 3, 1984, and on other sources.&nbsp;

Our Relationship with Money:&nbsp;The Day Moses Became a Bookkeeper

The Day Moses Became a Bookkeeper

Essay Pekudei

Our Relationship with Money

This class was presented on Tuesday, Parshas Tazria-Metzorah, 27&nbsp;Nissan, 5783, April 18, 2023, at Bais Medrash Ohr Chaim in Monsey, NY.

In Our Darkest Hour, Reb Yochanan Ben Zakai Understood How to Create Leaders

Women's Class Pirkei Avos Chapter 2

How to Empower Our Children & Students? A Must-Watch for Every Educator & Parent

Rabbi YY Jacobson delivering a speech on Thursday evening, 22 Tammuz, 5782, July 21, 2022, to the Zurich Community, in Zurich,&nbsp;Switzerland

Empowering Ourselves to Empower Others; The Liberation of Jerusalem

Lecture to Zurich Community

We Need to Train a New Generation of Leaders

Rabbi YY Jacobson addressed the 8th annual Aleinu Outreach Conference in Great Britain, for Rabbis, Rebbetzins, educators, leaders, outreach activists, all across England, involved in Jewish education and outreach.&nbsp;

The theme of the keynote address was &quot;There&#39;s a Knocking on the Door -- Will We Answer?&quot; The presentation included guidance, inspiration, and advice to Rabbis, Rebbetzins, teachers, parents, and Leaders&nbsp;during this Coronavirus.

The zoom conference, arranged by Rabbi Naftali Schiff, took place&nbsp;on&nbsp;Wednesday evening, Rosh Chodesh Shevat, 5781, January 13, 2021.

There's a Knocking on the Door -- Will We Answer?

Keynote Aleinu Conference

Advice to Rabbis, Teachers & Parents During Corona

The Genesis of a Faith

How did the Jewish faith, the father of all monotheistic faiths, begin?

The Midrash (in this week’s Torah portion) describes the birth of Judaism with the following cryptic parable:

G-d said to Abraham, “Leave your land, your birthplace, and your father’s house.” To what may this be compared? To a man who was traveling from place to place when he saw a palace in flames. He wondered, “Is it possible that the palace has no owner?” The owner of the palace looked out and said, “I am the owner of the palace.”

So Abraham our father said, “Is it possible that the world lacks a ruler”? &nbsp;G-d looked out and said to him, “I am the ruler, the Sovereign of the universe.”

Abraham is the first Jew. His bewilderment is clear. This perceptive and sensitive human being gazes at a brilliantly structured universe, an extraordinary piece of art. He is stirred by the grandeur of sunset and by the miracle of childbirth. He is in awe of the respiratory system and of the bee dance when returning to the beehive from lunch. He marvels at the roaring ocean waves and at the silent, steady heartbeat of the human heart. Observing the ecosystem, and the structure of the brain, he grows ecstatic.&nbsp;The world is a palace.

But the palace is in flames. The world is full of violence, bloodshed, injustice, and strife. Liars, thugs, abusers, rapists, terrorists, and killers are continuously demolishing the palace and its royal inhabitants. Innocent people are hurt; dissidents are tortured. Human life, in many regions, has no value.

What happened to the owner of the palace? Abraham cries. Why does G-d allow man to destroy His majestic world? Why does He permit such a beautiful universe to go up in flames? Can G-d have made a world only to abandon it? Would anybody build a palace and then desert it?

Some resort to easy answers. Some suggest that the palace has no owner. The entire palace is a product of random mutations. Others deny the reality of evil. It is all a delusion. In the next world, all will be good.

But the first Jew rejected both of these perspectives. Abraham knows this world is a brilliant palace, and&nbsp;he is perturbed to his core by the evil he encounters.&nbsp;

So “The owner of the palace looked out and said, ‘I am the owner of the palace.’ G-d looked out and said to Abraham, ‘I am the ruler, the Sovereign of the universe,’” the Midrash records G-d’s reply. Britain’s former Chief Rabbi Jonathan Sacks presented&nbsp;this compelling interpretation of G-d’s response.

Where Is Man?

Note that the owner of the palace does not make an attempt to get out of the burning building or to extinguish the flames; he is merely stating that he is the owner of the palace going up in smoke. Why did he not leave the mansion? It is as if, instead of racing out, the owner was calling for help. G-d made the palace, man set it on fire, and only man can put out the flames. Abraham asks G-d, “Where are you?” G-d replies, “I am here, where are you?” Man asks G-d, “Why did You abandon the world?” G-d asks man, “Why did you abandon Me?”

Thus begins the revolution of Judaism—humanity’s courageous venture to extinguish the flames of oppression and violence and restore the world to the harmonious palace it was intended to be. Abraham’s encounter with G-d in the presence of a burning palace gave birth to the mission statement of Judaism: to be obsessed with good and horrified by evil.

G-d created an imperfect world, one vulnerable to natural disasters, viruses, diseases, and of course man’s destructive choices. This too is part of our mission: To do what we can to preserve life, protect the weak, bring healing to the ill, and protection to all. Never allow political correctness, arrogance, or misplaced compassion to cause harm to the innocent. 

Reclaiming Our Mission Statement

For too long, many have succumbed to the lure of the popular notion that there is no such thing as absolute evil behavior. “Thou shall not judge,” became our cherished motto. We have been taught, instead, to probe and understand the underlying frustrations compelling the aggressor to follow his extremist route.

This sophisticated and open-minded point of view allowed to us sustain our ethos of boundless tolerance, accepting all forms of behavior, since at the core of every mean act lies a crying heart.

Few ideas have been rejected in the Torah with so much passion. Because Judaism placed as its highest ideal the creation of a good and ethical world, and the refusal to take a stand on what is wrong results in its victory. A non-judgmental view of someone who beheads a woman in France,&nbsp;for example, may appeal to our sophistication,&nbsp;yet in reality, it is a display of extreme cruelty to the innocent victims who will die at the hands of frustrated militants.

Judaism, in its obsessive attempt to turn the world into an exquisite palace, created absolute universal standards for good and evil defined by the Creator of the universe, articulated in His manual for human living, the Torah. Taking the life of an innocent person is evil. No ifs, buts, or why’s. The killer may be badly hurting but that never ever justifies the evil of murdering an innocent human being.

Yet, tragically, we have become numb to our mission statement. For many years leaders across the world and in the Jewish State displayed tolerance toward terrorists, neglecting our most cherished doctrine that the preservation of human life reigns supreme over every other consideration. The results of our moral confusion were devastating: Thousands of innocent Jews and Arabs died. And terrorists the world over learned that they could continue their despicable work without serious consequences.&nbsp;

In recent years, the tide began to shift. We learned the hard way that, as&nbsp;Churchill put it, an appeaser is one who feeds a crocodile, hoping it will eat him last."&nbsp;Good people of the world are waiting to be inspired by our four-millennium-long heritage of standing up to evil and banishing it from G-d’s palace.

This is part of what to think about when you decide who&nbsp;to choose as a leader. Who will help keep our country and our world safer? Who will be more likely to take on the bad guys trying to destroy the palace? Who will&nbsp;define evil as evil and treat it as such?

Abraham would ask us to reflect on the most critical questions facing us: How do we create a world filled with kindness, goodness, and justice? How do we construct a society based on moral responsibility to man and to G-d?

Abraham, I would imagine, would say one more thing: Do not get petty and do not allow arrogance and fear to rule you. Do what you must do to the best of your ability and trust the Creator to do the rest.

Trump and the World - A Palace in Flames

A Palace in Flames

Essay Lech Lecha

Who Would Abraham Vote For?

On Monday evening, 30 Sivan, 5780, June 22, 2020,&nbsp;Rabbi YY Jacobson presented a zoom lecture to the following communities:&nbsp;Chabad of Silver Spring, Rabbi Berel &amp; Chaya Wolvovsky;&nbsp;Chabad of Northern Virginia, Rabbi Sholom &amp; Chani Deitsch;&nbsp;Chabad of Olney, Rabbi Bentzy &amp; Devora Stolik;&nbsp;Harford Chabad, Rabbi Kushi &amp; Fraida Shusterman;&nbsp;Chabad of Upper Montgomery County, Rabbi Sholom &amp; Chana Raichik;&nbsp;Chabad of Anne&nbsp;Arrundel&nbsp;County, Rabbi Nochum &amp; Hindy Light;&nbsp;Chabad Student Center, University of Maryland, Rabbi Eli &amp; Nechama Backman

The lecture, followed by Q and A,&nbsp;explored the legacy of the late Lubavitcher Rebbe (1902-1994), in tribute to his 26th yahrzeit, on 3 Tammuz.

Mutual Responsibility; the Holiness of the Jew; Every Crisis -- an Opportunity

The Rebbe's Leadership and Teachings

The New Words Added by the Lubavitcher Rebbe to the Jewish Vocabulary

Rabbi YY Jacobson was interviewed on the Rabbi Reuven Epstein Show, on Monday, 2 Sivan, 5780, May 25, 2020, on his life story and work.

The conversation dealt with questions like: What Makes a Leader? How do You Know Who You Are? Who Molded You? How Do You Deal with Criticism? What Is Chassidus? The conflicts among Jews, and more.&nbsp;

Q & A on Rabbi YY Jacobson's History and Life Work

Reuven Epstein Show Interviews Rabbi YY Jacobson 

Interview with Rabbi YY: Who Molded You? How Do You Deal with Criticism?

Three Versions of a Song

One of the first things we did together as a people was sing.

The nation of Israel was born on the 15th of Nissan in the year 2448 from creation (1313 BCE). Seven days later, the Israelites witnessed the Red Sea split, to allow them passage and to drown the pursuing Egyptians. The Torah relates how upon beholding the great miracle,

Moses and the children of Israel sang this song to G-d, saying:

I shall sing to G-d for He is most exalted;

Horse and rider He cast in the sea.

G-d is my strength and song; He is my salvation

This is my G-d, and I shall glorify Him

The G-d of my fathers, and I shall exalt Him...

This song, known as Shiras&nbsp;HaYam—Song at the Sea—goes on to describe the great miracles that G-d performed for His people, G-d’s promise to bring them to the Holy Land and reveal His presence among them in the Beit HaMikdash (Holy Temple) in Jerusalem, and Israel’s goal to implement G-d’s eternal sovereignty in the world. Its forty-four verses express the gist of our relationship with G-d and our mission in life, and thus occupy a most important place in the Torah and in Jewish life.

Our sages focus on the prefatory line to the Song at the Sea. The Torah introduces it as a song sung by “Moses and the children of Israel.” Moses was obviously one of the “children of Israel,” so the fact that the Torah singles him out implies that Moses took a leading role in the composition and delivery of this song. But the exact nature of Moses’ role is a point of much discussion by our sages. How exactly did three million people sing the same song?

The Talmud (Sotah 30b) relates no fewer than three different opinions.

According to Rabbi Akiva, it was Moses who composed and sang the song, while the people of Israel merely responded to each verse with the refrain “I shall sing to G-d” (Ashirah L’Hashem). Moses sang, “For He is most exalted,” and the&nbsp;nation answered, “I shall sing to G-d”; Moses sang, “Horse and rider He cast in the sea,” and the&nbsp;people answered, “I shall sing to G-d”; and so on with all forty-four verses of the song. After each stanza, they declared “Ashirah LeHashem.”

Rabbi Eliezer, however, is of the opinion that the people repeated each verse after Moses: Moses sang, “I shall sing to G-d for He is most exalted,” and they repeated “I shall sing to G-d for He is most exalted;” Moses sang “Horse and rider He cast in the sea,” and they repeated, “Horse and rider He cast in the sea,” and so on.

A third opinion is that of Rabbi Nechemiah: according to him, Moses simply pronounced the opening words of the song, following which the people of Israel all sang the entire song together. Each of them, on their own, composed the entire, and very same, forty-four verses!

Three Forms of Leadership

It is a strange debate. Do we have to argue about everything?

What is the logic behind these three opinions? What is the difference if Moses sang the entire song himself and the nation merely shouted out the chorus, or if the people repeated each stanza after Moses; or if Moses merely began the song and the people sang the rest of it on their own?

What is more, this is a story that occurred more than 3,330 years ago. Why argue about something that seems irrelevant today?

The truth is that what seems to be a merely technical argument is a profound meditation on the nature of leadership, and on the ability of a leader to inspire a sense of unity and purpose within a fragmented people.

What is the role of a leader? To inspire loyalty and submission, to create pupils, or to mold leaders? The three versions of how Moses led Israel in song express these three different perspectives on leadership.

Rabbi Akiva describes a situation in which Moses inspires an entire generation to surrender their egos, to transcend their differences, to submit their individuality to the collective identity embodied by the leader. Rabbi Akiva sees Moses as the&nbsp;embodiment of the collective consciousness of Israel, the one in whom each Jew finds their truest and deepest identity as a fragment of the Divine. Moses alone sang the nation’s gratitude to G-d. The people had nothing further to say as individuals, except to affirm their unanimous assent to what Moses was expressing.

Moses marched, and the nation declared: “Yes, we are in!” It was a moment of absolute loyalty and unity, as the Torah states right before the song, “and they believed in G-d and in Moses His servant.”

Note the critical words: “Moses his servant.” Throughout history, many a dictator inspired radical submission and loyalty, through fear, charisma, or genius, but the objective was the worship of an individual. In contrast, Moses, “the humblest man on earth” was completely dedicated to G-d; he could unite and embody the zeitgeist of the nation because of his ego-lessness, seeing himself as nothing but a conduit for an infinite G-d. Thus, he could inspire a few million hearts to melt away in the ecstasy of "we."

Rabbi Eliezer, however, argues that the phenomenon of two million hearts and minds inspired to yield to a single vision and a single leader will not endure. It is electrifying and transformative, but it is short-lived, and not very meaningful in the long run. Have you ever been at a concert or a speech in which thousands congealed into one entity, embodied by a singular figure inspiring magnetic electricity? It is deeply powerful, but short-lived. Sooner or later their intrinsic differences and counter-aims will assert themselves, and the unity will fade. Moments of radical transcendence, when the individual “I” melts into the collective “I,” are powerful, but not enduring. When the “I” resurfaces, the unity remains but a memory.&nbsp;

Rabbi Eliezer thus argued that the model employed was very different: Moses inspired students rather than loyalists. The people of Israel repeated each verse after Moses. They did not suffice with an affirmation of his articulation of Israel’s song. Rather, they repeated it after him, running it through the sieve of their own understanding and feelings, finding the roots for an identical declaration in their own personality and experience. The very same words assumed two million nuances of meaning, as they were absorbed by two million minds and articulated by two million mouths.

Moses created a generation of pupils and students who listened to his song, and then integrated it into their own lives. His vision became theirs. They did not submit their selves to Moses; they made his vision theirs. For Reb Eliezer, Moses is more like the conductor of a symphony, inspiring each musician to use his or her own instrument to produce the music. They are playing the same song, but each person is using his or her own instrument,

Rabbi Nechemiah, however, felt that this vision of leadership was still lacking. This type of leadership is meaningful as long as the teacher is there to teach and to inspire his or her disciples. When the leader is communicating his passion and song, his students can “repeat it,” absorb it and follow it. But what occurs when the captain disappears, when the teacher is silenced, when the conductor is no longer directing the symphony? Now that there is nothing to repeat, and nobody to direct, does the symphony die?

No, argues Rabbi Nechmyah. If Moses truly captured and embodied the quintessence of Israel, rather than his own ego, they would be able to find his song within themselves and would not need to hear their song from his lips before they could sing it themselves. The real leader, argues Reb Nechemyah, creates not followers but leaders. He shows people how to discover the leader within themselves—how to find within their own heart the infinite light and the song of Moses.

The way it happened, argues Rabbi Nechemyah, was that Moses pronounced the opening words of the song, commencing the play, identifying the goal, marking the destination, beginning the march. But following that each and every Jew sang the entire song by himself (or herself). Moses inspired not submission, nor did he create disciples; Moses knew how to kindle the spark within each and every one of his people so that they on their own can continue his song.

This view is suitable for Rabbi “Nechemyah” whose name means comfort and solace (similar to the names Menachem, Tanchuma, or&nbsp;Noach.) For a generation that would not see and hear Moses sing, Rabbi Nechemya taught that the greatest leaders of Israel lead their people in their absence sometimes even more than during their presence. Their greatest gift is that the people touched by them become ambassadors of love, light, and hope.

To be sure, all three opinions are valid and vital, depending on the circumstances. There are times when leaders inspire the surrender of the individual “I” to the collective “we.” Yet the true leader must learn how to mold real disciples, and the greatest of leaders learn how to empower leaders.&nbsp;

The Rebbe’s Influence

The above marvelous explanation I heard myself from the Lubavitcher Rebbe, during an address on Shabbat Parshas Beshalach, Shevat 11, 5748, January 30, 1988. (It was a few days before the sudden passing of his wife, Rebbetzin Chaya Mushka, and a few short years before the Rebbe’s own passing in 1994.<a onclick="ty.scrollTo('_ednref1')" id="_edn1" href="javascript: void(0);" name="_ftnref1">[1]</a>)

The above insight of the Rebbe taught me much about the role of a genuine parent, an authentic pedagogue, and a great leader. It also helped me understand the Rebbe himself.

This past Wednesday, 10 Shevat 5782&nbsp;(Jan. 12, 2022), the Jewish world celebrated 72&nbsp;years of the Lubavitcher Rebbe’s leadership. People often ask me: In the absence of the Rebbe’s physical presence, what inspires Chabad? What holds it together? What motivates it? What keeps it focused and united? How long can it continue?

But the Rebbe’s name was “Menachem,” and he embodied the vision of Rabbi Nechmyah. The Rebbe did not seek people who will submit to him—even as a person dedicated completely to G-d and His Torah. The Rebbe did not even want to mold followers. The Rebbe aspired to create leaders, persons who will identify within themselves the power and confidence to change the world.

Chabad has sometimes been accused of being a cult. I always find this humorous, because I know of no other Jewish figure who urged his students to be more independent, ambitious, individualistic, creative, revolutionary, and innovative than the Rebbe. He loathed when people squandered their talents and gifts, and truly believed in the infinite power of each individual to compose his or her unique song that will set the world on fire. I still recall a public address of the Rebbe, in the summer of 1988,<a onclick="ty.scrollTo('_ednref2')" id="_edn2" href="javascript: void(0);" name="_ftnref2">[2]</a>&nbsp;when he expressed frustration that some of his followers feel they are inept to become the authors of their own biography and are always waiting for orders.

And I know of no other leader who urged all of his students to go live amongst people who will challenge their beliefs&nbsp;on a daily basis, in order to build bridges between all Jews and to introduce every soul to the depth and love of Judaism. This is not how cults operate.&nbsp;

The Rebbe keenly understood that you can’t transform a world with followers, only with leaders.

The Match

The late Yehudah Avner, a veteran Israeli diplomat, served as an adviser to four Israeli prime ministers: Golda Meir, Yitzchak Rabin, Menachem Begin, and Shimon Peres. He was also &nbsp;Israel’s ambassador to Ireland and Australia. Once, he related, during a conversation with the Lubavitcher Rebbe, the Rebbe spoke of his own work.

"Let me tell you what I try to do. Imagine you're looking at a candle. What you are really seeing is a mere lump of wax with a thread down its middle. When do the thread and wax become a candle? Or, in other words, when do they fulfill the purpose for which they were created? When you put a flame to the thread, then the candle becomes a candle."

"The wax is the body, and the wick the soul. Ignite the soul with the fire of Torah and a person will then fulfill the purpose for which he or she was created. And that is what I try to do – to ignite the soul of our people with the fire of Torah."

"My candle – has the Rebbe lit it?", Yehuda Avner asked.

"No," the Rebbe said, clasping Avner’s hand. "I have given you the match. Only you can light your candle."<a onclick="ty.scrollTo('_ednref3')" id="_edn3" href="javascript: void(0);" name="_ftnref3">[3]</a>

_________________

<a onclick="ty.scrollTo('_edn1')" id="_ednref1" href="javascript: void(0);" name="_ftn1">[1]</a> A few days later, at the farbrengen of 15 Shevat, the Rebbe spoke at length about the fact that he will henceforth minimize giving direct answers to people because after decades of teaching Torah people are empowered to find their own way.

<a onclick="ty.scrollTo('_edn2')" id="_ednref2" href="javascript: void(0);" name="_ftn2">[2]</a> Shabbos Parshas Shlach 5748, June 1988.

<a onclick="ty.scrollTo('_edn3')" id="_ednref3" href="javascript: void(0);" name="_ftn3">[3]</a> My thanks to Rabbi Yanki Tauber for his rendition of the above address by the Rebbe, published on www.meaningfullife.com

One of the first things we did together as a people was sing. But how exactly did three million people sing the same song? There are three Talmudic opinions: Rabbi Akiva, Rabbi Eliezer, and Rabbi Nechmyah. According to the first, Moses sang the song himself, according to the second, the nation repeated Moses&rsquo; song, and according to the third, Moses only opened the song, and it was continued by the people.

What is the logic behind this argument? Must we argue about everything? It revolves around the question of what is the role of a leader? To inspire submission, to create followers, or to craft leaders?

People often ask: In the absence of the Rebbe&rsquo;s physical presence, what inspires Chabad? What holds it together? What motivates it? What keeps it focused and united?

Do You Know How to Make Your Disciple Shine? How Chabad Keeps It Together

Essay Beshalach

Are Our Leaders Scared to Empower their Students?

This keynote lecture was presented by Rabbi YY Jacobson at the convention of the Rabbinical Council of America,&nbsp;on Tuesday, 16&nbsp;Iyar, 5778, May 1, 2018, at the Crown Plaza Hotel, Stamford, Conn.&nbsp;

The Role of the Rabbi in Our Times

Lecture RCA Convention

Torah Leadership in the 21st Century

A man who wants to lead the orchestra must turn his back on the crowd.—Max Lucado

When, Not If

The weekly Torah portion of Vayikra (and much of the book of Vayikra, Leviticus) is about sacrifices, and though these laws have been inoperative for almost 2000 years since the destruction of the Temple, the moral principles they embody and the messages they contain are meaningful and inspiring.

The Torah in this portion describes the various kinds of sin offering, brought in the case of inadvertent wrongdoing (shegagah). Four different cases are considered: the anointed priest (high priest), the community (represented by the Sanhedrin or supreme court), the Prince (Nasi, Leader, King), and an ordinary individual. Because their roles in the community were different, so too was the form of their atonement.

In each of the above situations the Torah raises the possibility of sin, with one glaring exception. In three cases, the law is introduced by the Hebrew word “im,” "if." It is possible that a high priest, the community, or an individual may err.

ויקרא ד, ג. יג: אִם הַכֹּהֵן הַמָּשִׁיחַ יֶחֱטָא. וְאִם כָּל עֲדַת יִשְׂרָאֵל יִשְׁגּוּ.

However, when the Torah describes the potential sin of a leader (a Nasi) the text reads:

ויקרא ד, כב: אֲשֶׁר נָשִׂיא יֶחֱטָא...

“When a leader sins…”

Not if, but when.

The connotation seems troubling. With individual Jews, there is possibility of sin. The same can be said for the High Priest and the Supreme Court. With leaders, however, there is not the possibility of sin, but the probability of sin. The question is not if, but when!

This is how the Zohar on Vayikra and the 15th-century Italian biblical commentator Rabbi Ovadya Seforno<a onclick="ty.scrollTo('_ednref1')" id="_edn1" href="javascript: void(0);" name="_ftnref1">[1]</a> understood the wording of the verse:

אמנם דבר מצוי שיחטא...

After all, it is common that he will sin.

Why such pessimism? There are a few reasons for this. At the dawn of history, the Torah established a truth most famously verbalized centuries later by the nineteenth-century moralist Lord John Emerich Edward Dalberg Acton, “Power tends to corrupt, and absolute power corrupts absolutely.”<a onclick="ty.scrollTo('_ednref2')" id="_edn2" href="javascript: void(0);" name="_ftnref2">[2]</a>

Yet, there is more to this. Because of the great risks a leader must take, the assumption of a leadership position carries with it the inevitability of error. "A leader takes people where they want to go; a great leader takes people where they don't necessarily want to go, but ought to be," is the old saying. To be a leader, to deal with diverse people, to be creative, innovative and decisive, to make difficult and heart-wrenching decisions, guarantees mistakes.

The leader must, for example, decide whether to send his soldiers into battle or keep them home. Which decision is correct? Sending your soldiers to war will almost certainly result in deaths. Keeping them home, may allow your enemy to conquer the country. These are some of the painstaking decisions leaders must make.

Four Saints

If sin and leadership are synonymous, does the Torah’s moral system discourage the assumption of leadership?

For this we will introduce an enigmatic Talmudic passage. The Talmud states:<a onclick="ty.scrollTo('_ednref3')" id="_edn3" href="javascript: void(0);" name="_ftnref3">[3]</a>

תנו רבנן, ארבעה מתו בעטיו של נחש. ואלו הן בנימין בן יעקב ועמרם אבי משה וישי אבי דוד וכלאב בן דוד.

Four people died only because of the advice of the snake (meaning, they never committed any sins, they only died because of Adam and Eve eating from the Tree of Knowledge which introduced the reality of death into human life.<a href="#_ftn4" name="_ftnref4">[4]</a>) Benjamin, the son of Jacob; Amram the father of Moses; Yishai the father of David, and Kileab the son of David.

There is something amiss here. Think of all the great people of our nation who are excluded from this list: Abraham, Isaac and Jacob; Sarah, Rebecca, Rachel and Leah; the other eleven sons of Jacob including Benjamin’s older and beloved brother Joseph, known as Yosef HaTzaddik, Joseph the righteous one. Moses, the greatest prophet, teacher and leader of Israel about whom the Torah states that “there never arose a prophet like Moses whom G-d knew face to face.” Aaron, the High Priest, Joshua, Samuel, and many more, are not on the list. Our greatest giants did not make it into the Who's Who list of sinless people. Instead, the list consists of four relatively anonymous persons: Benjamin, Amram, Yishai and Kileab. Why?<a onclick="ty.scrollTo('_ednref5')" id="_edn5" href="javascript: void(0);" name="_ftnref5">[5]</a>

Also, the Talmudic identification of each of these four individuals is strange. Each of them is mentioned with his father’s name or his son’s name. Why doesn’t the Talmud simply list their names as it does with most biblical characters? Why identify each historical figure by his relationship to another: Benjamin, the son of Jacob; Amram, the father of Moses; Yishai, the father of David; Kileab, the son of David?

The Talmud intimates an extraordinary idea: Our greatest heroes are not the ones who never sinned, but rather the ones who actually committed mistakes (relative to their spiritual level). Because when you are a leader it is not a question of “if” but of “when.”

Benjamin, Amram, Yishai and Kileab all died sinless because they lived a life of isolation. They did not deal much with people; they did not take responsibility for the generation; they did not get enmeshed in the affairs of the community. In short, they did not get their hands dirty; hence they remained untarnished.

Jacob, Moses, and David are not said to have died only “due to the snake.” According to the Torah, Abraham, Jacob, and Moses committed mistakes—relative to their sublime state of spiritual greatness. Relative to their standing, there was some form of “cheit”—lack and void.<a onclick="ty.scrollTo('_ednref6')" id="_edn6" href="javascript: void(0);" name="_ftnref6">[6]</a> Why? Not because they were not noble and holy men; but because they were leaders in a really crazy world, and by the very nature of their role, perfection is impossible.

This may be why the Talmud gives us the names of each of these four saints with another name. In a rather elegant way, the Talmud wants us to compare each of these four saintly spotless individuals to a more well-known relative: Jacob, Moses, and David. It wants us to recall that despite the greatness of these four men, our greatest honor is reserved to these other relatives, who made it their responsibility to illuminate a dark world.

The Hermit

If you are a hermit, if you don’t do anything, you will never be criticized, nor will you make mistakes. Inaction, by definition, does not lend itself to error. Action always lends itself to error. When you do things, you will be scrutinized and criticized; someone will always have what to say and you are prone to error. So although we have a place in our hearts for the four individuals who never sinned, because they remained aloof; although we pay tribute to spiritual saints who don’t hurt a fly and remain immaculate, and we ought to learn from them and be inspired by them, nonetheless we remind ourselves of those individuals who were even greater than the sinless saints—because they did “sin,” because they did commit errors. They went out and made a radical difference in people’s lives; they sought to change the world.

I recall standing one Shabbos afternoon in a synagogue in the Old City of Jerusalem. A man approached the great sage Rabbi Adin Even Yisroel (Shteinsaltz) and asked him if he had any regrets in life. Rabbi Adin responded: I made many mistakes, and I regret them. But I regret far more all those things I never tried out of fear of making a mistake…

Or as Les Brown put it: “Most people fail in life not because they aim too high and miss, but because they aim too low and hit.” 
 
Marriage &amp; Parenting

Consider marriage and parenting. If you choose to remain single, you will never have an argument in your home, never experience strife and discord, and nobody will ever accuse you of being “insensitive, selfish, careless, irresponsible, narcissistic, and ‘out for lunch.’ If you decide not to have children, no one will accuse you of being a horrible parent, a controlling mother, ruining the lives of your children, crippling them emotionally, and sending them into therapy for decades.

Yet we were created not to be perfect—angels and souls in heaven are perfect. We were created to jump into the circus of life, make mistakes and learn from them, to get entangled in the thicket of life and then come out stronger.

But there is one condition. We need not be perfect, but we must be accountable.&nbsp;

Mazal Tov

That is the reason for the strange Jewish custom that after the breaking of the glass at the end of the marriage ceremony, everyone screams, “Mazal Tov!” What’s the mazal tov? A nice glass was broken, after all.

There is a moving message here we are conveying to the new bride. “You see your groom? Now he’s perfect. He’s handsome, flawless, and impeccable. He is the dream of your life. But sooner or later, he will begin breaking things… You know what you do when he begins breaking things? Say Mazal Tov! Mazal tov that I am married to a real human being who is imperfect.

This is how Judaism understood the concept of sin—as an opportunity for rebirth. Much of Vayikra revolves around this theme of sin and atonement. It is as though G-d is telling us: I know you are human. Humans are not perfect. I made you that way. And I love you anyway. In fact, that's why I love you—because you are not perfect. I already had perfection before I created you. What I want from creation is an imperfect world that strives to improve, filled with human beings that fail, get up and move ahead. By being imperfect but persevering nevertheless, you have fulfilled the purpose of your creation. You have achieved the one thing that I can't do without you—you have brought the perfect G-d into an imperfect world.

Failing at our mission is itself a part of the mission, as long as we can rise up and continue moving, with the newly discovered wisdom from our failures.

The Price of Leadership

“The price of greatness is responsibility,” Winston Churchill said. We might add: The price of leadership is sin. As long as you are accountable, honest and ready to learn from past errors, fear not the fact that you will stumble.

This is the Torah’s message in Vayikra. Leaders make mistakes. That is inevitable. Now their job is not to run and hide; but to face the mistakes, acknowledge them, and bring atonement.

“A ship in harbor is safe, but that is not what ships are built for,” William Shedo said. Each of us is called on to be a leader, a “Nasi,” in our own way, a beacon of influence, an ambassador of love, wisdom, light, and hope. Get out of the harbor into the sea. We know you will break a thing or two in the process. When you do, we will scream Mazal Tov and move on.

Don’t be afraid of making mistakes. Just make sure two things: 1) they are new mistakes; not the same old ones. 2) That you know how to say I am sorry and learn from your mistakes to create a brighter future.

A person who makes no mistakes, generally makes nothing. Yet a person who makes mistakes and then justifies them must resign from every form of leadership.

&nbsp;_______________

<a onclick="ty.scrollTo('_edn1')" id="_ednref1" href="javascript: void(0);" name="_ftn1">[1]</a> Suferno Vayikra 4:22

<a onclick="ty.scrollTo('_edn2')" id="_ednref2" href="javascript: void(0);" name="_ftn2">[2]</a> Expressed in a letter to Bishop Mandell Creighton in 1887.

<a onclick="ty.scrollTo('_edn3')" id="_ednref3" href="javascript: void(0);" name="_ftn3">[3]</a> Shabbas 55b. Bava Basra 17a

<a href="#_ftnref4" name="_ftn4">[4]</a> Genesis ch. 3

<a onclick="ty.scrollTo('_edn5')" id="_ednref5" href="javascript: void(0);" name="_ftn5">[5]</a> This question is rasied in Chidushei Agados Maharal to Bava Basra ibid. He presents a different answer.

<a onclick="ty.scrollTo('_edn6')" id="_ednref6" href="javascript: void(0);" name="_ftn6">[6]</a> As in Kings 1, 1:21: “My son and I will be ‘chataim,” lacking. See Rashi and Metzudos to Kings 1, 1:21. CF. Maharal, Beer Hagoleh, section 4 about this meaning of the term “cheit.” Sefer Hamaamarim 5640 p. 908 and references noted there. See Likkutei Sichos vol. 5 Lech Lecha about Abraham’s “sin.”

Sometimes the Torah conveys its most profound ideas by a mere nuance, one that becomes apparent only by attentive listening.

Vayikra describes the various kinds of sin offering, brought in the case of inadvertent wrongdoing. Four different cases are considered: the anointed priest (=high priest), the assembly (=the Sanhedrin or supreme court), the Prince (=Nasei, Leader, King), and an ordinary individual. Because their roles in the community were different, so too was the form of their atonement.

In each of the above situations the Torah raises the possibility of sin, with one glaring exception. In three cases, the law is introduced by the word eim, &quot;if.&quot; It is possible that a high priest, the community, or an individual may err. However, when the Torah describes the potential sin of a nasi (leader), the text reads: &ldquo;When a leader sins&hellip;&rdquo;

The connotation seems troubling. With individual Jews, there is possibility of sin. Ditto with the High Priest and the Supreme Court. With leaders, however, there is not the possibility of sin, but the probability of sin. The question is not &ldquo;if,&rdquo; but &ldquo;when&hellip;&rdquo;

Saints don&rsquo;t sin. Leaders make errors. That is their greatness and challenge. Each of us must be a leader. A ship in the harbor is safe, but that is not what ships are built for. Don&rsquo;t fear your mistakes as long as you know how to say I am sorry.

Don’t Be Afraid to Make Mistakes

Vayikra Essay

Leadership is Synonymous with Sin

Former President Obama was blasted by former President Trump over suspicions that he is not a &ldquo;homegrown potato.&rdquo; It is one of the greatest questions of the Jewish narrative. Why did Providence have it that our first and greatest leader should be raised among non-Jews, and even worse, in the home of one of the greatest anti-Semites in history? Why did G-d want Moses to be deprived of a Jewish upbringing?

The Ibn Ezra grants us two answers which cut to the heart of what it means to be a true visionary leader. It contains a powerful lesson for our individual lives, as well as our collective destiny as Jews.&nbsp;

The story of the US President who slept through his presidency.

Why Our First and Greatest Leader Never Ate Schmaltz Herring

Essay Parshas Shemos

We Need to Get Rid Of the Inferiority Complex

Rabbi YY Jacobson delivered a zoom address to &quot;Olam Hayedidus,&quot; The World of Friendship, the group of Rabbis and Rebbetzins of &quot;Jewish Futures&quot; in Great Britain, founded and directed by Rabbi&nbsp;Naftali Schiff. The event, followed by Q and A, took place on Tuesday, 21 Teves, 5781, January 5, 2021.

How Can Rabbis Inspire Communities Today?

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