07 Feb THREE PARTNERS
Parshas Yisro. Parsha of the Jewish nation
receiving the Aseres Hadibros.
The commandments were inscribed on luchos
– two tablets, with five commandments on
each side. The right side was comprised of
mitzvos bein adam l’Makom, between man
and HaShem, (e.g., to believe in only one G-d,
to keep Shabbos…), while the left side
contains
Mitzvos bein adam l’chaveiro, between man
and his fellow, (e.g., not to kill, not to steal…)
Honoring parents, the fifth commandment,
seems out of place. It is a mitzva between man
and man, yet is included with the mitzvos
between man and HaShem.
When it comes to Torah, there are no mistakes.
There is a reason for everything.
HaShem is telling us that the miracle of
bringing a new life into the world includes
three partners – HaShem, father and mother.
When we honor our parents, we not only
honor our mother and father, but the third
partner as well, HaShem Himself. The Talmud
states: “When one honors his mother and
father, HaShem says ‘I consider it as if I had
lived among them and they had honored me.’
” (Kiddushin 30b)
We are created with a neshama, HaShem’s
spirit blown into our very being. I remember
one of my teachers trying to help us visualize
what a neshama is. She took a balloon and
proceeded to blow it up. At first, it was limp
and lifeless. As she blew into it, the balloon
took on a shape and form. While we couldn’t
see the air within it, we knew it was there. As
we say every morning, “Elokai, neshama
shenosatoh bee, tehorah hee…, My G-d, the
soul that You placed within me is pure… Atah
nefachtah bee, You breathed it into me…”
This is the miracle of the neshama. HaShem
“blows” a spiritual ruach into our soul, filling
it with kedusha, sanctity.
The Talmud tells us that when Rav Yosef
heard his mother’s footsteps, he stood up
saying, “I must rise, because the Shechina,
HaShem’s presence is approaching.”
(Kiddushin 31b)
What a lesson! As the Baal HaTanya writes,
the neshama is a chelek Elo-kah, a portion of
HaShem within each and every one of us.
HaShem gifted us the Torah in the desert.
Wouldn’t it have been more majestic for the
Torah to have been given in the most beautiful
of gardens, surrounded by lush greenery,
lakes, trees, and magnificent flower beds?
The desert can be challenging to navigate,
difficult to cross. It is a message for us. No
matter where life takes us, no matter how
difficult the journey, the mitzvos must
accompany us. Torah wasn’t given only to be
followed during good times, on easy days.
Torah is for every day, no matter what or
where.
A story is told of the great sage, Rabbi
Yehoshua ben Ilem, whose partner in the
World to Come, Nannes, was revealed to him
in a dream.
Rabbi Yehoshua awoke, quite shaken. Who
was Nannes? What did Nannes do to merit
being his partner in the World to Come?
Together with a group of students, he traveled
from town to town, searching for Nannes, but
no one recognized the name. Finally, he came
upon one person who was able to give him a
lead. Nannes lives in the outskirts of the town.
A simple man who kept to himself. He was
neither educated nor learned.
After some effort, Rabbi Yehoshua located
Nannes, who was surprised at the sight of the
great sage coming to visit him. After
exchanging greetings, Rabbi Yehoshua asked
Nannes how he spends his day.
“Rabbi, I have weak, elderly parents, they
need my help,” Nannes replied. “Every
morning, I wash them, I dress them, I feed
them.”
The Torah sage then embraced Nannes and
said, “How fortunate I am to be your partner
in the World to Come.”
Similar to the challenge of the desert, the
mitzva of honoring one’s parents isn’t
always easy or convenient. But it is
incumbent upon us, nonetheless. In fact,
honoring parents is so important and
essential, that HaShem included it in the
Ten Commandments.
“Honor your father and mother, so that your
days may be increased on the land that
HaShem has given you.” (Shemos 20:12)
And the Talmud teaches regarding the
rewards for honoring our parents, “A person
will enjoy the fruits in this life and the
principal remains intact for him in the
World to Come.” (Shabbos 127a).
The Shulchan Aruch, Code of Jewish Law,
describes what honoring parents entails. To
serve them food and drink. To welcome
them to your home and escort them upon
leaving. Not to shame them or contradict
their words (even if we are so sure that we
are correct). By not sitting in their
designated place. By not calling them by
their first names. Additionally, Sefer Chayei
Odom explains that the mitzva of honoring
parents encompasses our actions, words and
even thoughts.
My mother a”h would often speak to
families having parent-child relationship
issues. How upset my mother would be if the
children would relate to their parents as “he”
or “she”. “Who is ‘he’, who is ‘she’ ”, my
mother would say. “It’s my father, my mother.”
When there is a breakdown in honoring
parents, it leads to a breakdown in society.
It’s not only what we do, but how we do it.
Our actions must be “b’sever panim yafos –
with an enthusiastic and sincere expression on
our faces.” To show genuine caring and
kindness.
If we help a parent with a scowl on our face,
we are missing the point. Attitude counts.
Even when we are already “out of the house”,
building our own lives, raising our own
children, the obligation to honor parents
continues. A responsibility to be there for
them, to see what we can do to help.
I was once with an acquaintance when she
asked her eight-year old daughter to bring her
a cup of water. “I’m not your slave”, was the
little girl’s reply. The mother laughed it off,
but I cringed inside. The words of the Ten
Commandments flashed before me. How
terribly tragic to raise a child lacking in simple
honor and respect. I thought that I wish that I
still had my parents. What I would do to just
be able to bring them a cup of water.
How do we honor parents even after they
leave this world?
“Imi, morasi, My mother, my teacher”,
showed me the way. Every speech was an
opportunity to honor her parents. Telling over
teachings, recollections and acts of kindness
of my grandparents, Mama and Zeide, a”h.
My mother perpetuated their memory, thereby
giving them respect even after they were no
longer physically here.
Every time we do a mitzva, it’s an occasion
for an “aliyas neshama, elevation of the soul.”
It can be by giving tzedaka or taking on a
mitzva that a parent was careful with. Make it
your mitzva. Follow in their path. Do it in
their memory.
Every year, at the Hineni Yom Kippur
services, my brother would announce before
Yizkor that those who remain inside pray for
the neshama of the departed. But what should
those exiting pray for? He would share the
words of Rebbetzin Batsheva Kanievsky, a”h.
“If you’re so fortunate to still have your
parents, pray that next year you will be able to
leave the shul at Yizkor once again. Pray for
the health and well-being of your parents.”