Weekly D’var Torah

I hope this finds you all well.

When the United States entered World War I in the spring of 1917, it quickly became apparent that America would need the largest army it had fielded since the Civil War, over 50 years before, and a talented cadre of leadership with which to build it. One would naturally have thought that to oversee such an enormous enterprise, President Woodrow Wilson would have appointed someone with decades of military experience as his secretary of war (today’s equivalent to the secretary of the Army and Secretary of Defense). Instead, Wilson appointed a relatively young, short, scrawny, bespectacled lawyer and former mayor of Cleveland, Ohio named Newton Baker to the post. Baker had never spent a day in uniform in his life and many thought he was a pacifist.[1] He was the ultimate outsider, the antithesis of whom many thought would be ideal for this critical position, and as a result, there were those who did not want him there. The following was written of Baker:

“A civilian’s civilian, Baker saw the military as a necessity, but he had no awe of people in uniform, no romantic feelings toward them, and no dreams of glory. …On the day President Woodrow Wilson announced Baker’s appointment as secretary of war, he admitted his ignorance of military matters. ‘I am an innocent,’ he told reporters, ‘I do not know anything about this job.’ But he had a sharp, analytical mind and considerable skill at administration.”[2]

It was this last part that made him so effective and ultimately so successful. He appointed the right people under him, fired those who weren’t making the cut, grew the nation’s military-industrial base, drastically expanded the size of the army, made the vast logistics networks run like a fine-oiled machine, and allowed generals like John Pershing to do the actual fighting.[3]  His leadership, in no small part, helped win the war.

Too often in life, we put on myopic blinders. We only listen to someone if they have diplomas from prestigious places, or if their name comes with a title, rank, or a couple of fancy acronyms before or after it. We get drawn in because someone went to such-and-such university, or grew up in such-and-such a place, or was a student of professor so-and-so. We get drawn in by the idea of someone rather than the actual person themselves. In the same vein, we seem to shut down good ideas not because of the ideas themselves but because of who said them with “rationale” like, “when you’re older,” “when you have more experience,” “when you’ve been here a bit longer,” and “when you’ve paid your dues.”

In this week’s parsha of Yitro (Exodus 18:1-20:23) we see an incredible scene of mentorship take place. Jethro, who is both the father-in-law of Moses and the high priest of Midian, enters the Israelite camp. He observes his son-in-law acting as the sole judge and magistrate for the entire 600,000-person Jewish nation. Jethro pulls Moses aside and tells him, “The thing you are doing is not right; you will surely wear yourself out, and these people as well. For the task is too heavy for you; you cannot do it alone.”[4]  He tells Moses to appoint leaders of tens, fifties, hundreds, and thousands who can adjudicate these matters. His counsel helps prevent anarchy and give the people of Israel much needed structure that they will need in order to survive over the next forty years.

I truly shudder to think what would have happened if Moshe Rabbeinu had said something to the effect of, “Well gee Dad, um, that might work over in Midian, but that’s not how we do things here in Israel.”

The blessing of the interaction between Moses and Yitro is two-fold: first Jethro provided wise counsel, and second, Moses listened to it.

The great sage of our people, Maimonides, taught us a simple yet fundamental lesson, “accept the truth from whatever source it proceeds.”[5]

Maybe the best idea in the room will come from the CEO, or maybe it will come from the intern for whom it’s their first day on the job, or maybe it will even come from the janitor.

Bizrat HaShem, may we all possess the humility of Moses to accept great ideas no matter where or who they come from.

Wishing you a Good Shabbos and a great weekend.

Bivrakha,

Rabbi Aaron Stucker-Rozovsky

Beth El Congregation | 520 Fairmont Ave, Winchester, VA 22601

(540) 667-1889 (office)

I hope this finds you well.

400 years of suffering and slavery in Egypt, the call of Moses to leadership, the vastness of the ten plagues, and the exodus of our people from a kingdom from which had so brutally oppressed them. It is one of the most formative chapters in the annals of the Jewish people. And how do we recall this enormity? We…don’t partake in any Mac and Cheese or Oreos for a week. Really?!?!

On the face of it, not getting to enjoy a pizza, sandwich of your choice, or your favorite pasta dish for seven to eight days may sound annoying and inconvenient, even cheap, maybe even comical considering the magnitude and scale of what we are trying to honor and remember.

In this week’s parsha of Bo*, we receive multiple commandments regarding the temporary removal of chametz (leavened bread) from our lives, such as the destruction of it in our households on the 14th day of Nisan the consumption of only matzah, and the prohibition of having, possessing, or eating any chametz during the chag (festival).[1]

But why?

Of course, there is the obvious, clear link between Pharaoh’s order that the Children of Israel leave immediately (which meant that the bread they were baking did not have enough time to rise) with the eating of Matzah and abstention of leavened food.

However, I think it goes far beyond that. Perhaps the point of the mitzvot is that with each bite of matzah and with every time during Pesach (Passover) that we want chametz but forego it, we are reminded of the trials and tribulations of ancestors, of Moses and God, and the exodus from the house of bondage. The Exodus made us who we are. Hence, matzah and chametz are meant to bring us back constantly to this life-changing moment.

Sometimes in life, even the smallest gestures can have exponential meaning and immense value. The apples dipped in honey on Rosh Hashanah remind us to have a sweet new year, the yahrzeit candle reminds us of our loved ones of blessed memory, and the mezuzah reminds us of our sacred connection with God. As the Jewish poet Solomon Blumgarten penned, “All the roadways small and great, lead unto thy kingdom’s gate.”

Bizrat HaShem, may we always remember to treat every symbol, act, or object, no matter how unique or mundane, as a holy moment in time and as a sacred link that connects us to our forebears, our faith, and God.

Wishing you a Good Shabbos and a great weekend.

Bivrakha,

Rabbi Aaron Stucker-Rozovsky

Beth El Congregation | 520 Fairmont Ave, Winchester, VA 22601

(540) 667-1889 (office)

I pray this finds you all well.

Every time I hear Sir Winston Churchill’s immortal and inspiring call, “Never give in, never give in, never, never, never, never in nothing, great or small, large or petty — never give in,” I feel a renewed and overwhelming sense of confidence, renewal, grit, and determination.[1]

In life, when met with push-back, trial and tribulation, or outright failure, we have two choices: accept our defeat or dust ourselves off and keep striving towards our goals.

Case in point: in this week’s parsha of Beshalach (Exodus 13:17-17:16) we read one of the most dramatic moments not just in Torah, but indeed the entirety of the Jewish people.

The Children find themselves trapped between the Sea of Reeds and Pharaoh’s approaching army. Angrily, they cry out to Moses: “Was it for want of graves in Egypt that you brought us to die in the wilderness? What have you done to us, taking us out of Egypt? Is this not the very thing we told you in Egypt, saying, ‘Let us be, and we will serve the Egyptians, for it is better for us to serve the Egyptians than to die in the wilderness’?” (Exodus 14:11-12)(Sefaria.org)

Moshe Rebbeinu’s rebuke is both powerful and indeed a lesson for all time: “Have no fear! Stand by, and witness the deliverance which Adonai will work for you today; for the Egyptians whom you see today you will never see again. Adonai will battle for you; you hold your peace!”(Exodus 14:13-14)(Sefaria.org)

Fear, failure, setback, sadness, and disappointment come in all shapes and sizes. From a leaky roof or flooded basement to receiving an unforeseen expense or hefty bill, from not meeting a weight loss or fitness goal to not getting admitted into the college or university of own choice or not landing that dream job, or even the unexpected and tragic death of a dear friend or loved one, our lives can invariably hit snags, roadblocks, and trying moments. In such circumstances, many would be naturally inclined to wring their hands, wail, sob, scream, and cry their eyes out, or ball themselves up in a corner. However, our faith tells us not to wallow in self-pity, worry, or grief, but rather to get back on the horse and keep moving forward. Judaism and God demand that we keep moving the football down the field.

The psalmist David writes, “Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for Thou art with me; Thy rod and Thy staff, they comfort me.” (Psalm 23:4)(Mechon Mamre)

In the Book of Isaiah, God declares: “Fear not, for I am with you, Be not frightened, for I am your God; I strengthen you and I help you, I uphold you with My victorious right hand.”

(Isaiah 41:10)(Sefaria.org)

Finally, God commands Joshua, “I charge you: Be strong and resolute; do not be terrified or dismayed, for the Eternal your God is with you wherever you go.” (Joshua 1:9)(Sefaria.org)

Bizrat HaShem, may we all realize that we never walk alone. God walks with us consistently and has implanted within each of us unlimited courage, resolve, and determination. May we always harness these God-given gifts.

Wishing you a Good Shabbos and a great weekend.

Bivrakha,

Rabbi Aaron Stucker-Rozovsky

Beth El Congregation | 520 Fairmont Ave, Winchester, VA 22601

(540) 667-1889 (office)

I hope this finds you all well.

As I write this, I cannot help but cry for all our brothers and sisters, Jew and Gentile alike, our fellow Americans, who have lost their hearths and homes, priceless valuables, and life’s works in the devastating wildfires out in California. My heart especially breaks for a fellow Rabbi, a classmate of mine from my first year of Rabbinical school who, together with his wife and three young children, lost his home in Pacific Palisades. I simply cannot fathom what they are going through nor the pain they are feeling. I know at this point all I can do for them is pray, cry for them, listen to them, and offer a helping hand or whatever assistance that they both request and I am able to muster.

As I write this, the grief of those in California is joined by those in western North Carolina who were so tragically affected by September’s Hurricane Helene, those impacted by the July 2023 floods in Vermont, those who suffered so greatly in the 2023 Maui wildfires, and all others who have felt and experienced the full force of nature’s fury. As the Talmudic expression goes, “ha’mavein yavein…those who understood will understand.”

I pray that a powerful and enduring image from this week’s parsha of Shemot* brings, if not consolation or comfort, at least a glimmer of tikvah- hope, to all those who are grieving and in pain.

We read: “And the angel of the Lord appeared unto him [Moses] in a flame of fire out of the midst of a bush; and he looked, and, behold, the bush burned with fire, and the bush was not consumed.”[1] This, of course, is the famous burning bush.

Moses’ reaction: ‘I will turn aside now, and see this great sight, why the bush is not burnt.'[2]

In life, the physical can be destroyed – drought can kill crops, ice can crack foundations, floods can wash away bridges and roads, and fire can destroy homes. But perhaps the lesson of the burning bush is that there are some things that are just too holy, too sacred, too strong to be demolished by nature- among them faith, resiliency, fortitude, charity, community, friendship, family, and love. These values, these elements, are stronger than anything in the natural world. And why? Because these values and relationships come from God and likewise connect us to the Divine. No force of nature can destroy them; only we can. They are ours to build, nurture, grow, and strengthen. If we do so, then just like the burning bush, nothing can consume them.

Bizrat HaShem, with God’s help, may we all commit ourselves to helping those who are suffering in California.

Wishing you a Good Shabbos and a peaceful weekend.

L’Shalom,

Rabbi Aaron Stucker-Rozovsky

“Run to do even the slightest mitzvah.” – Ben Azzai (Pirkei Avot 4:2)

Shabbat Shalom and Happy New Year!

First and foremost, I pray that this new year of 2025 is filled with good health, great fortune, abundant blessings, happiness, and peace for you and yours.

Without a doubt, one of my favorite movies is 1992’s Last of the Mohicans starring Daniel Day Lewis, Madeleine Stowe, and Wes Studi.[1] In a famous scene, an Englishwoman Cora Munro (Stowe) is about to be burned alive at a Huron village. The hero Hawkeye (Lewis) and the British Army Officer Duncan Heyward (Steven Waddington) intervene and both offer themselves up in place of Cora as they are both madly in love with her. Hawkeye declares to the Huron Sachem, “I am Le Longue Carabine! My death is a great honor to the Huron, take me!” In the end, Heyward sacrifices himself for the woman he loves.

In this week’s parsha of Vayigash* we see a very similar act. As a quick recap: in last week’s parsha of Mikeitz**, an adult (and unrecognizable) Joseph, who his brothers have not seen since they sold him into slavery at the age of 17, tests them to see who they are now. In other words, are they still the jealous and hate-filled siblings who threw him into a pit and sold him into slavery, or have they changed their ways? Having planted his silver goblet in Benjamin’s grain sack (Benjamin being his only full-blood brother, Jacob’s favorite after him, the youngest of all the siblings, and the only brother who did not play a role in Joseph’s enslavement), he demands that Benjamin remain his slave as punishment for this “theft.”

Fast forward to this week, Judah cries out to Joseph, “…please let your servant [me] remain as a slave to my lord [you, Joseph] instead of the boy [Benjamin], and let the boy go back with his brothers. For how can I go back to my father [Jacob/Israel] unless the boy is with me? Let me not be witness to the woe that would overtake my father!”[2]

It is a selfless and noble act. Judah has placed the safety and security of Benjamin and the heart and health of his elderly and saddened father Jacob before his own needs. Judah’s demonstration of integrity and moral fiber in this critical moment leads Joseph to reveal his true identity to his brothers and tells them not to fear him. Judah has passed this most fundamental test of character.

The German-Jewish poet of the Medieval era, Susskind of Trimberg penned, “Who acts nobly, him will I account noble;” Maimonides declared, “No pedigree as noble as virtue, no heritage equal to honor;” finally, the Judeo-Spanish philosopher and poet of the 11th century Solomon Ibn Gabirol wrote, “What is the highest pedigree? Loving kindness to men.”[3]

Judah’s actions serve as an inspiration. And in this new year it leaves each and every one of us with an enduring question and an overt challenge: how will you act nobly, selflessly, and for the sake of others in 2025?

Bizrat HaShem, with God’s love and help, may we all act with the same altruistic nobility that Judah displayed before Joseph and Benjamin not only in this new year so full of promise, but indeed all the days of our lives.

Wishing you a Good Shabbos, a wonderful weekend, and a happy and healthy new year.

L’Shalom,

Rabbi Aaron Stucker-Rozovsky

“Run to do even the slightest mitzvah.” – Ben Azzai (Pirkei Avot 4:2)

I hope this finds you all well.

Nisim – Miracles. They are one of the great beauties and treasures of the Jewish faith- whether it be God’s splitting of the sea as Pharaoh’s chariots closed in and all seemed lost, God providing manna to the Children of Israel in the austerity and harshness of the wilderness, and of course, most apropos to this season, one day’s worth of oil lasting for eight, thus showing that HaKadosh Baruch Hu, the Blessed One Be He, had ordained the Jewish victory over the cruel and tyrannical Seleucid empire.

Like I said, miracles are wonderful. They are wonderful because they are extraordinary, literally out of the ordinary, and quite frankly out of place. And that is what gives them their revered and holy status. The problem is not with miracles but often with us. Many people come to depend and rely solely on these divine wonders, rather than on own their gifts, talents, and responsibilities.

In this week’s parsha of Miketz*, the Pharaoh at the time of Joseph’s life in Egypt dreams of seven scrawny head of cattle devouring seven robust cows, and seven scrawny, sickly ears of corn/grain likewise enveloping seven good ears. When Joseph tells Pharaoh that this means that the land will see seven of prosperity and plenty followed by seven years of famine, Pharaoh gives Joseph untold power as well as the responsibility to handle this looming national crisis.

Joseph immediately gets after it. He establishes a national system of food collection that allows the Egyptians to ride out the famine.

Here’s what Joseph doesn’t do. He doesn’t get on his knees, wring his hands, and pray – waiting, standing idly by for a miracle. Rather, he proactively gets right to work/ Why? Because the miracle has already happened. Pharoah’s dream was the divine miracle. Joseph’s prophetic ability to interpret dreams was the holy miracle. The rest is within Josephs’s capabilities and faculties.

Too often in life we discount the strengths, abilities, and talents that  HaShem has implanted in each and every one of us. These include khokhmah (wisdom), oz (strength), ometz lev (courage), vinah(understanding), koakh y’tzirah (creativity), sablanut (patience), ahavah (love), and chesed (kindness). So often, the keys to our success are either within us or right in front of our noses.

By praying first, foremost, always and exclusively for signs and wonders without consulting our bodies, our minds, and our neshamot, our very souls… this goes against all the matanot (gifts) and brachot(blessings) that God has bestowed upon each and every one of us.

As it is written in the 1602 Dutch Jewish work Ma’asehbuch, “God performs many miracles…but he doesn’t grow corn in the houses of pious.”[1]

Ken y’hi Ratzon, may it be God’s will that in this sacred and joyous season in which we remember the miracle of the Chanukiyah as well as the heroism tenacity, skill, and sacrifice of Judah and the Maccabean warriors, that we all recognize the signs, wonders, and miracles that are all around us and most importantly, within our grasp because God has given each of us that sacred spark.

Wishing you a Good Shabbos and a Chag Urim Sameach!

L’Shalom,

Rabbi Aaron Stucker-Rozovsky

“Run to do even the slightest mitzvah.” – Ben Azzai (Pirkei Avot 4:2)

I hope this finds you all well.

There’s this man, and his passion is restoring and building boats. Fair enough, it’s a nice hobby. One day the man decides to build his dream boat, his magnum opus, something he’s always envisioned. He buys the finest lumber and parts, and spends hours locked away sanding, shaping, coating, and sealing the wood, building the engine, and crafting the bilge pumps. He blows off date night with his wife, forgets his daughter’s dance recitals and his son’s hockey games, and skips visiting his folks. Day after day, night after night, week after week, year after year, he labors on that boat. Even his conversations focus entirely on his project. Well, as one might expect, his wife divorces him, his children become estranged, and his friends give up on him. Finally, one day, his boat is finished. But when he looks at it admiringly, his happiness is shattered as there is no one to celebrate with him.

There is a famous question: “Is the juice worth the squeeze?”

In other words, was the result or reward worth the effort, the pain, and the tribulation.

In this week’s parsha of Vayishlach* we see two examples of this. First, after wrestling a strange man (many argue an angel) throughout the night and coming out victorious, Jacob is blessed with a new name, Israel.[1]However, during their contest, the stranger dislocates Jacob’s hip socket, leaving him with a permanent limp.[2] Second, Jacob and his favored/beloved wife Rachel have a second son together, Benjamin. Benjamin becomes Jacob’s favorite child, second only to Joseph.[3] Tragically, Rachel dies from childbirth.[4]

Was the blessed name Israel worth the limp? Was the birth of Benjamin worth the death of Rachel?

The great Rabbi of the 10th century Saadia Gaon wrote “The more valuable the thing, the more effort it demands,” and “The good attained by effort is twice as precious.”[5]

On the other hand, late in his life, when Pharoah asks Jacob how old he is, he replies, “The years of my sojourn [on earth] are one hundred and thirty. Few and hard have been the years of my life, nor do they come up to the life spans of my ancestors during their sojourns.”[6]

Perhaps the lesson here is that we have to individually decide if the end result is worth the effort that gets us there.

Bizrat HaShem, with God’s love and guidance, may we all have the judgement, discernment, and wisdom to determine when the juice is worth the squeeze.

Wishing you a Good Shabbos and a great weekend.

L’Shalom,

Rabbi Aaron Stucker-Rozovsky

“Run to do even the slightest mitzvah.” – Ben Azzai (Pirkei Avot 4:2)

Jewish Word of the Week – Parshat Vayeitzei

Shalom, all:

I hope this message finds you all well.

This week’s word is Vayeitzei (Hebrew: וַיֵּצֵא), which means “and he went out.” It is the name of the Torah portion that tells the story of Jacob’s journey to Haran, his encounters with his wives, Rachel and Leah, and his complex relationship with his uncle, Laban.

This parsha is a pivotal point in Jacob’s life. He leaves his home, fleeing from the consequences of his actions, and embarks on a journey of self-discovery and transformation. We witness his dream of a ladder reaching up to heaven, a powerful image of connection between the earthly and divine realms. We also learn about his wrestling match with an angel, a struggle that leaves him with a new name, Israel, and a deeper understanding of his own strength and resilience.

Jacob’s journey is filled with challenges and triumphs, love and loss, deceit and reconciliation. It is a mirror to our own lives, reminding us that the path to growth is often winding and unpredictable. We may encounter obstacles and setbacks, but through perseverance and faith, we can emerge stronger and wiser.

In this parsha, we are called to reflect on our own journeys. Where are we going in our lives? What are the challenges we face? How can we draw strength from our faith and our relationships to overcome adversity?

I encourage you to engage with this week’s Torah portion and share its wisdom with those you serve. Let us all strive to embody the resilience and determination of Jacob as we navigate the complexities of life.

Wishing you all a Shabbat Shalom and a great weekend.

AATW!

All the best,

Scott I. Klein, Ed.D.

Chaplain (CPT) / Rabbi

407th BSB, 2nd BCT, 82nd ABN DIV

Fort Liberty, NC 28307

Cell: 773-547-3822

NIPR: scott.i.klein.mil@army.mil

Jewish Word of the Week – Parshat Toldot

Shalom Shabbat!

I hope this finds you all well.

This week’s word is Toldot (Hebrew: ְלֹדתוֹתּ), which means “generations” or “history.” It is the name of the Torah portion that tells the story of Isaac and his sons, Jacob and Esau.

In this parsha, we learn about the rivalry between Jacob and Esau, and how Jacob tricked his father into giving him the blessing that was meant for Esau. We also learn about Jacob’s journey to Haran, where he meets his wives, Rachel and Leah, and his uncle, Laban.

The story of Jacob and Esau is a complex one, full of twists and turns. It is a story about family, betrayal, and reconciliation. It is also a story about the power of blessings and the importance of making the right choices.

As we read Parshat Toldot, we are reminded that our actions have consequences, both for ourselves and for others. We are also reminded that God is always with us, even when we make mistakes.

Bizrat HaShem, with God’s loving help and guidance, may we all learn from the mistakes of our ancestors and make choices that will lead us to a better future.

Wishing you all a Shabbat Shalom and a great weekend.

All the best, From the desk of

Scott I. Klein, Ed.D. Chaplain (CPT) / Rabbi (filling in for Rabbi Aaron while he’s deployed)

407th BSB, 2nd BCT, 82nd ABN DIV

Fort Liberty, NC 28307