Yitro
This Shabbat we study the Parshah Yitro, meaning “Jethro” (Exodus 18:1). Moses’ father-in-law, Jethro, hears of the great miracles which G-d performed for the people of Israel, and comes from Midian to the Israelite camp, bringing with him Moses’ wife and two sons. Jethro advises Moses to appoint a hierarchy of magistrates and judges to assist him in the task of governing and administering justice to the people.
The children of Israel camp opposite Mount Sinai, where they are told that G-d has chosen them to be His “kingdom of priests” and “holy nation.” The people respond by proclaiming, “All that G-d has spoken, we shall do.” On the sixth day of the third month (Sivan), seven weeks after the Exodus, the entire nation of Israel assembles at the foot of Mount Sinai for the Giving of the Torah. G-d proclaims the Ten Commandments but the people cry out to Moses that the revelation is too intense for them to bear, begging him to receive the Torah from G-d and convey it to them.
Chabad.org
Is There Anything Wrong With Arguing?
We are a nation who argues. A lot. From ancient history, when Abraham and Moses argued with the divine, to the present, where the bricks and cement of synagogues and Jewish social halls vibrate from the sound of verbal battle on the widest spectrum of subjects. Life as we know it: I say yes, you say no. But then we hear the cries for peace: “Why must we argue?” “All problems arise from disagreement!” “If we would all agree to agree, life would be so simple and harmonious.” Tell me about it.
Where in Torah or in common sense is there any hint to the notion that we must all think alike? Yes, there are fundamental premises that are not up for debate. One may not kill. We must believe in one G-d. Adultery is forbidden, Hamas is a terror organization, and Holocaust denial is the work of the Satan and cannot be college campus debate material. On these we all agree. (We better!) But for almost everything else, [disagreements] are part of a healthy society.
In Exodus 19:1 we read that after arriving at Sinai, “there Israel camped opposite the mountain.” Says Rashi: “At all their other encampments, the verse says vayachanu [‘and they camped,’ in the plural]; here it says vayichan [‘and he camped,’ in the singular]. For all other encampments were in argument and conflict, whereas here they camped as one man, with one heart.” Notice that Rashi uses the expression “one heart.” No mention of “one brain.” There is no evidence that for the sake of peace the Jews let go of their opinions!
Our history is full of rabbis and teachers debating, arguing, and defending their ideas. It is a part of our psyche. Jews argue, and that is a good thing. True, debate must remain in the realm of objective discussion, where we argue about the message, not the messenger. While we may dispute ideas and disagree with the other’s opinion, we must always have respect for our opponent as a human being, as a Jew. But within the framework of fair debate—we are lifetime members.
From an article by Rabbi Levi Avtzon
Purposeful, But Despised
There is nothing—no thing or event—that must be, that forces itself upon G-d. All is deliberate, all has intent and purpose. And the ultimate good is hidden in that purpose. Nevertheless, our G-d is a G-d that creates things He does not desire. Things about which we scream, sometimes in horror, sometimes in indignant outrage, "Why did You do this? How could You?!" And all we receive is a silent tear from heaven. Yet even the things He does not desire, they too have purpose.
Rabbi Tzvi Freeman
“Thus you shall say to the House of Jacob and tell the Children of Israel.” (Yitro 19:3)
Our sages state that “House of Jacob” refers to the women of Israel, and “Children of Israel” to the men. When G-d gave the Torah to Israel, He told Moses to approach the women first. The Messianic redemption, too, will come about in the merit of the righteous women of Israel, as stated in the Midrash: “All generations are redeemed by virtue of the pious women of their generation” (Yalkut Shimoni, Ruth: 606). Thus the women will once again be first to receive the wondrous teachings to be heard from Moshiach.
From an article by Rabbi J. Immanuel Schochet
But Does It Speak to You?
The introduction to the Ten Commandments we will read in this week's Parshah is, And G-d spoke all these words, to say… In Hebrew, leimor. Now, when the Torah uses the word leimor, "to say," it is usually because G-d is telling Moses something important which Moses in turn should pass on and tell the Children of Israel. Rabbi DovBer, the great Maggid of Mezeritch, explained that here the word leimor means to speak to you. That these words should not remain mere words, but should resonate and say something meaningful to you personally. They should be said and heard so that they continue to reverberate forever after in your minds, heart and deeds. The Ten Commandments must not remain an abstract idea, an unhitched engine, a nice philosophy or an interesting cultural practice - something of no more significance to yourself than the rituals of ancient Incas of Peru. The Ten Commandments must be relevant enough to make a difference in our lives; otherwise, whom did G-d say them to and whatever for?
The Talmud describes a thief who prays to G-d for success before breaking in to commit a burglary. The epitome of hypocrisy—G-d told you, "You shall not steal," and you have the audacity to ask Him to help you succeed in defying His wishes? This has got to be the ultimate chutzpah! How do we get a handle on this Talmudic thief's hypocrisy? The answer is that this thief, too, is a believer, but his faith is superficial and doesn't permeate his being sufficiently to influence his behavior. Deep down he has faith but he remains a religious goniff!
They tell the story of a rabbi who was in his study when in walked Berl, the town pickpocket. "Rabbi, I was walking down the street and found this wallet lying on the ground. I know that to return a lost article is a mitzvah of the Torah, so I brought it in. Perhaps you can make an announcement in Shul and find the rightful owner." The rabbi sees there is a fair amount of cash in the wallet. He is so inspired at Berl's change of heart that he embraces him and congratulates him on his reformation. Later, the rabbi notices that the gold watch he had in his jacket pocket is missing. He calls Berl and asks him if perchance he may have inadvertently taken his watch. Berl confesses. "I don't understand you Berl. You find a wallet full of cash in the street and you return it, and then you go and steal my gold watch? Berl answers, "Rabbi, a mitzvah is a mitzvah, but business is business."
We all believe and we all want to do mitzvahs, big and small. The trick is to translate our inner piety into outer practice. The Torah must not remain a theory on the drawing board. The Ten Commandments do indeed speak to us. The question is, are we listening?
From an article by Rabbi Yossy Goldman
