
20 May LIVE THE MESSAGE
Parshas Behar… The mountain…. Har
Sinai… Mount Sinai.
As Shavuos is approaching, the lessons of
Sinai are ever so relevant and meaningful.
The parsha opens with HaShem speaking to
Moshe “beHar Sinai”, instructing Bnei
Yisroel regarding the laws of Shemita.
“U’vashana hasheviis Shabbas Shabboson
yiheyeh lo’oretz, Shabbos laHaShem…,
But the seventh year shall be a Shabbos, a
rest for the land, a Shabbos for HaShem…”
(Shemos 25:4) A year to let the land lie
fallow.
The word Shemita means to withdraw
ownership, to give the land a total rest, a
Shabbos. A mitzva that requires the farmer
to take a complete break from working his
field, and put it all in HaShem’s hands. To
say, I’m not going to work my fields this
year, but I know that with HaShem’s help,
all will be good. To have a heart filled with
emuna and bitachon.
We, who are not farmers living in Eretz
Yisroel, can also learn from this mitzva the
powerful traits of unwavering faith and
trust in HaShem. Shemita also teaches us
the importance of nosei b’ol im chaveiro, to
help carry another’s load. To feel their
“pekel”, to empathize with, to genuinely
feel another’s challenges, even their pain
and suffering, thereby easing their burden.
What starts by lightening another’s load,
has a transformative effect not only on the
recipient, but on the benefactor as well.
B’ol chaveiro. While one may not even be
familiar with the person he is helping, by
virtue of giving and caring, one connects to
another, becoming his chaver, his friend.
A few days ago, I read an amazing story of
now nosei b’ol im chaveiro can be taken to
the highest of high. Just before this past
Pesach, someone in Lakewood, while
parking his car, backed into and dented the
car behind him. Wanting to do the right
thing, he pulled out a piece of paper, wrote
his name and phone number, together with
a short message, and placed it under the
wiper of the damaged vehicle. The next
morning, he received a phone call. “Is this
so and so?” the caller asked. After replying
in the affirmative, the caller then asked
“How are you making Pesach?” “I don’t
understand” was the response. The caller
continued, “Maybe you
didn’t realize it, but the
reverse side of the paper
you slipped under my
windshield was your bank
statement, and I couldn’t
help but notice that it
showed a negative bank
balance. I just wired
$5,000 into your account.
Have a wonderful Yom
Tov.” And with that, the
caller hung up.
A person who truly cared
and lived as a nosei b’ol
im chaveiro.
Behar. So many lessons from Sinai. I think
of the entire nation, standing around the
mountain. Together, they cried out Na’aseh
V’nishma, we will do and we will listen. By
preceding “we will listen” with “we will
do”, Am Yisroel put their total faith in
HaShem and His Torah, accepting its laws
unconditionally. They were in – no matter
what.
At the time of mattan Torah on Har Sinai,
Rashi explains that the Torah uses the
singular expression vayichan, and (he) the
nation encamped, to teach us about the
unity that Klal Yisroel felt at that loftiest
moment. They were an am echad, one
nation, “k’ish echad, together as one
person, b’Lev echad, with one heart.” One
people, one heart, one Torah, the strength
of Am Yisroel.
I recently heard a clip demonstrating the
unity of our people. A unity the speaker
marveled about. He often thought about
the soldiers of the IDF and would be
amazed how over the years they have
gone to so many places, risking their lives
to rescue and evacuate fellow Jews,
sometimes even a single Jew. The
dangerous missions that often required
traveling thousands of miles to hostile
countries. From Yemen to Iraq. From
Sudan to Ethiopia. From Entebbe to
Munich. And more recently, the daring
rescue of hostages from the tunnels of
Gaza.
The speaker confessed that at times he
wondered whether it was worth it all. The
question lingered within him, until one
day, he posed this question to his barbers,
Elan and Avi, who just so happened to be
Israelis.
“How do the soldiers go on and on, time
and time again? Why do they put their
lives at risk?” It didn’t even take a minute.
Elan and Avi didn’t even have to think.
They looked at him with disbelief.
Together – in unison, Elan and Avi blurted
out, “anu achim, we are all brothers.
Wouldn’t you do anything to save your
brother?”
No matter what, a brother is a brother, and
we are a nation of brothers. And that, said it
all.
A nation is usually defined as a people who
share a common land and a common
language. But Am Yisroel is a nation like no
other. We defy all logic. We are spread out
across the globe, speaking different
languages, yet we are an am echad. We
care. We do. We feel for one another.
Eli Sharabi, a released hostage, was
interviewed by the press. He was asked
about his post-captivity therapy. Sharabi
related that he had seen several therapists.
They all asked him to share his experience
as a hostage. When he described the pain
and torture he endured, each one of the
therapists had the same reaction. They
cried. This is what it means to feel another’s
anguish and heartache. Not just to feel, but
to actually cry, to shed a tear for a fellow
Jew in pain. To be a nosei b’ol im chaveiro,
to lighten the load by feeling for another.
We are approaching the end of Sefira. Days
that are designated for us to prepare for
Shavuos, z’man mattan Torahseinu – our
receiving HaShem’s gift of Torah. One of
the best ways we can prepare for Shavuos is
to work on ourselves to become better
people. To work on our middos, thereby
elevating ourselves, not only in our
relationship with HaShem, but in our
relationships with others.
Rabbi Akiva is widely known for teaching
the importance of v’ahavta l’rei’acha
komocha, loving one’s fellow as oneself. As
we read the parsha of Behar, live the
message of Sinai – a nation standing in
unity. Live the opportunity of Shemita – to
be a nosei b’ol im chaveiro, to lighten the
load of those who put it all on the line. And
let’s appreciate those who don’t give a
second thought to risking their lives for
others, because they live by the principle
anu achim, we are brothers.