This Shabbat we study the Parshah Ki Teitzei, meaning “when you go out” (Deuteronomy 21:10). Seventy-four of the Torah’s 613 commandments (mitzvot) are in this Parshah. Also recounted are the judicial procedures and penalties for adultery, for the rape or seduction of an unmarried girl, and for a husband who falsely accuses his wife of infidelity. Our Parshah also includes laws governing the purity of the military camp; the prohibition against turning in an escaped slave; the duty to pay a worker on time, and to allow anyone working for you—man or animal—to “eat on the job”; the proper treatment of a debtor, and the prohibition against charging interest on a loan to a fellow Jew; the laws of divorce; the penalty for transgression of a Torah prohibition; and the procedures for yibbum (“levirate marriage”) of the wife of a deceased childless brother, or chalitzah (“removing of the shoe”) in the case that the brother-in-law does not wish to marry her. Ki Teitzei concludes with the obligation to remember “what Amalek did to you on the road, on your way out of Egypt.”  

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Chabad.org

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The first prayer a Jewish child is taught to recite every morning is the Modeh Ani: “I offer thanks to You, living and eternal King, for You have restored my soul within me; Your faithfulness is great.” We acknowledge our Creator and thank Him for the gift of a new day. By starting off the day full of humility and gratitude, we pledge to live up to G-d’s vision for the world.

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But, I ask you: once you’ve rolled off the bed and rubbed the sleep from your eyes, how much of the Modeh Ani do you take with you? So you spent eight seconds admitting that you owe your life to G-d. Does that really affect the rest of the day?

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The Torah advises us to “fulfill the utterances of our lips.” Ostensibly an injunction to pay up our pledges to charity and to live up to our vows, the verse can be homiletically rendered as a directive to listen and learn from the words said while praying. It is too easy to just go through the motions, letting the familiar words roll off the tongue and into oblivion; however, G-d wants prayer to be more than mere lip service.

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The words we say must mean something. Prayer is not just dead time spent mindlessly repeating a monotonous mantra, but a unique opportunity to communicate with the divine. When we train our children to say the Modeh Ani first thing after rising, it is in the hope that the feelings and emotions encapsulated in the prayer will permeate the days of their life.

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G-d demands that we fulfill our pledges and live up to our promises. Each morning we acknowledge our Creator as King, and thank Him for gifting us with our soul again. We approach the rest of the day with the enthusiasm and knowledge that we are following the route suggested in G-d’s guidebook. We will fulfill the oaths we made to Him, and live by our promises, for now and forever.

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From an article by Rabbi Elisha Greenbaum

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Build a home. A warm home. Bring people into your home. Warm them with food for the body and food for the soul. Speak to them from your heart. But fence the roof of your home. And fence the roof of your ego that feels so good for warming up so many souls. Because words from your heart will enter the hearts of others and save many a soul from falling.

But words that come from the ego can do just the opposite.

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Rabbi Tzvi Freeman

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At the end of the Messianic battle, the people of Israel will find restored all the precious spoils that fell into the hands of the nations of the world during the time of the galut, and which the latter have kept all these years. This means essentially the Beit Hamikdash (the Holy Temple of Jerusalem). The nations pursued the Jewish people throughout the times, and their primary objective has always been the dwelling-place of our spiritual center, the Beit Hamikdash. They did indeed achieve their goal, in fact twice, by the destruction of both the first Beit Hamikdash and the second Beit Hamikdash. For as long as the third Beit Hamikdash (to be restored by Moshiach) is not yet rebuilt, the Beit Hamikdash remains in their hands! When Moshiach will succeed with his battles, we shall regain the enemy’s capture by the restoration of the Beit Hamikdash.

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From an article by Rabbi J. Immanuel Schochet

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Susan, a new acquaintance, told me her surprising story. She decided to enter a raffle. “Why not? The money goes to a good cause,” she thought. The first prize was a trip to Israel. Susan was certain that she wouldn’t win and soon forgot about the whole thing. Of course, she won the trip, but the story doesn’t end there. While seated on the plane awaiting take-off, the passenger beside her asked if she would switch seats. Susan said, “Of course,” but immediately wondered to herself, “Why did I just give up my aisle seat to sit in the middle?” She had no idea that this quick decision would bring about a positive change in her life. She could not have imagined that she was now sitting between her future husband and future sister-in-law.

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How do some occurrences seem to connect? To what extent do Divine providence – free choice - and cause-and-effect intersect? Or do they?  While these are deep and complex questions, the unusual wording of a verse in this week’s Torah portion sheds just a little bit of light on this fascinating topic. “When you build a new house, you must make a guardrail (makeh) for your roof, so that the one who is falling will not come to fall from it (emphasis added).”

What does “the one who is falling” mean? The Talmud explains that “the person who will fall was predestined to fall since the six days of creation.” That’s why the verse refers to him as “the one who is falling.” What roles do Divine Providence and free will play in this scenario? Freedom of choice and causality are two systems by which the world operates. The connection between them is explained in the Talmud: “Reward is brought about through those with merit, and punishment through the guilty.” In other words, an individual’s act of free will can bring about a pre-ordained result or goal. In this situation, it is the free will of the homeowner who is negligent in erecting a guardrail that will lead to the punishment of the person who was predestined to fall.

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Freedom of choice and causality work in tandem with Divine providence to bring G-d’s plans to fruition. A goal can be achieved in different ways. G-d’s desired end can be brought about through any of a variety of means. If a goal is not attained by one means, it will come about by another, but these distinctions may not be obvious to us.

The Talmud’s statement that “reward is brought about through those with merit, and punishment through the guilty,” might help us understand this. A person’s act of free will can be the means to trigger a particular, pre-ordained, occurrence or goal. It may result in either a reward or a punishment. The free will of the homeowner who neglected to erect a guardrail ultimately brought about the punishment of the person who was predestined to fall. Rashi succinctly concludes that if someone falls off a roof, it’s because (s)he was a “fallen one,” deserving to fall. It is your duty and choice, however, to make sure that it’s not your roof.

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The Torah neither tells people to forego building houses nor forbids going on the roof. The commandment is simply to build a guardrail. The performance of a straightforward, common-sense mitzvah can prevent potential harm. Therefore, imagine the potential good that can result from going beyond one’s comfort zone to help another. Just ask my friend Susan!

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From an article by Katia Bolotin

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