Mazel Tov Eli on your Bar Mitzvah! You did a fantastic job reading the second to longest parsha in the Torah. Does anyone know how many pessukim there are in this week’s parsha?
Wrong.
There are 167 and a half pessukim.
There is one word in this week’s parsha that has a VAV in it. Instead of a regular vav, which is essentially a line, there is a crack in the line – a vav ketuah. In Teshuvos Binyan Av, Rav Doron tells a story about a shul in which the Baal Koreh did not realize the vav was supposed to have a crack in it. The Baal Koreh saw the letter had a crack in it, stopped reading, thinking it was an invalid Torah, and had the Torah returned to the Aron. They took out another Torah and also found a crack in the vav. They finally took out a third Torah in which the VAV did not have a crack and read from it, not realizing that it was the third Torah that was actually invalid.
In 1743, in Rovigo, Italy, a young rabbi was double-checking the Torah scroll before Shabbos and found that the VAV in this week’s parsha had no crack in it and decided to not use that Torah. The community members were up in arms, claiming that their custom was to write the VAV regularly, with no crack. They sent the question to the rabbis of Venice for a ruling, and they affirmed that it was indeed an Italian custom to write a regular VAV. Other rabbis got involved. A rabbi from Padua vehemently disagreed and declared all those Torahs with a proper VAV to be invalid. Rabbis from Amsterdam and from Poland even got into the mix. (h/t Rabbi Josh Flug)
Does anyone know which word in this week’s parsha is the center of this controversy?
Ironically, the word that caused so much dispute and disagreement is none other than the word Shalom, peace.
Last week’s parsha concludes with a Jewish prince committing a horrible crime in public. He takes a Midyanite woman into his tent but not before taunting Moshe in full view of the Jewish People. His actions have the potential of totally undermining Moshe’s authority and with that, the stability and unity of the Jewish People. But Moshe is frozen. The Torah tells us that he was overwhelmed, he was crying in despair. Pinchas, Moshe’s nephew, enters the scene, he grabs a spear and kills this Jewish prince.
Our parsha begins with G-d declaring that what Pinchas did was noble and as a reward, he will receive “brisi shalom, a covenant of peace.” It is that word shalom, the gift given to Pinchas, in which the letter VAV is cracked.
Why?
Rabbi Berel Wein suggests a simple and relatable answer. Peace is fragile. It’s all too easy for familial relationships to unravel, for friendships to go cold, for neighbors to stop talking to one another. All it takes is one careless remark, one inconsiderate action, and it all comes undone. Shalom is written with a broken letter to remind us how careful we must be to maintain peace.
Rav Samson Raphael Hirsch has a very different approach that is both profound and especially pertinent:
He observes that many people see peace as a soft value. Meaning, peace is attained when people look the other way, when people don’t bother arguing with one another, when societies adopt a live and let live philosophy. That, he argues, is false and it’s dangerous. That’s not peace; it’s a lack of conviction.
250 years ago, to this day, a group of men declared independence from British rule and in doing so declared war against the English. There were many who argued that what were doing was foolish. Why couldn’t they just put their heads down and accept the current reality? But those men were anything but foolish; they were filled with conviction. Were they looking to fight? No. They were looking for peace. But they were driven by deeply held convictions about how a society should function, that all men are created equal, that no man is above the law, and that everyone should be treated with respect. They understood that the only way to get that result was through war. (h/t Rabbi Josh Flug)
In the early 1940’s this debate raged once again. Should the US enter the war theater in Europe or should they stand by? Yes, the axis of evil was… evil, there was no doubt. But why should the US get involved? It’s not our fight! Thank G-d, men of conviction stepped up, sending hundreds of thousands of American soldiers into war, and through their intervention bringing about true peace. Had they not done so, I, and many others in this room, would not be standing here today.
It’s an argument that is once again ripping apart this country as we debate the value of crushing evil regimes across the world.
Shalom, peace, says Rav Hirsh, is too often a reflection of weakness, physical and moral weakness. Hence, the word Shalom is written with a broken VAV. Remove the VAV and what you have is Shaleim – perfection, conviction, strength. Torah-driven peace is not weak; Torah-driven peace is driven by superhuman strength. Moshe stood still and cried. But Pinchas armed himself, he shed blood, and in doing so brought about true and lasting peace.
Anyone who knows Eddie and Ita Rosenblatt knows that they are the nicest, kindest people around. Always with a smile, always ready to help, always peaceful. But if you really know Eddie and Ita, you would know that their peace is driven by conviction. Theirs is not the soft-everything-goes type of peace. They are warriors. They fight for their children, they fight for what they believe in, they fight to do what’s right – they are shaleim, and that’s why they are b’shalom, that’s why they are so peaceful.
Eli, you have so many talents and skills; you’re bright, you’re good at math, you love to learn Torah, you’re curious, and you come across as incredibly sweet. And yet, when your parents were singing your praise, one of the words that they used is that you are a gavra, from the word, gibbor. You have a quiet, understated strength that drives you. Like your parents, you understand that true peace is fueled by conviction.
Allow me to conclude with story that some of you may know but every time I think about it, I am moved. Just over a month ago, in Monsey, New York, a terrible tragedy unfolded. Yudi Herzberg was picking his son up from school when he received a call from his wife. She was frantic, she could hardly speak, something about their daughter being hit by a car. Yudi raced home and found his eight-year-old daughter, Charlotte, on the street surrounded by members of Hatzalah.
He immediately noticed his best friend and next-door neighbor, who was also a member of Hatzalah, and that made him feel a little more comfortable. Knowing that his friend was there meant that his daughter would receive the best possible care. Only that Yudi noticed something was wrong. His friend saw him but did not come over, he avoided eye contact and quickly looked away. And then it clicked. The car on the street right next to Charlotte’s motionless body was the car of his best friend.
Hatzalah whisked his daughter away and sped to the nearest emergency room. They worked on her for over 40 minutes, but tragically, Charlotte would not make it. On June 3rd, Charlotte was laid to rest.
At the funeral, Yudi got up to speak. He spoke about his precious daughter, her smile, her energy. He thanked the many people who tried to help her. And then he acknowledged the elephant in the room. “I’ve been wondering to myself,” he said, “how this could have happened. Not just the tragic death of my daughter. But how could it be that my closest friend, the man I speak to whenever I need advice, the nicest guy I know could have caused this?”
“It must be,” he continued with a crack in his voice, “that there was a conversation up in heaven. G-d was boasting about how peaceful our community is, how much shalom there is between neighbors, how different types of Jews could all get along. And the Satan came along and said, ‘Big deal. The only reason there is shalom is because they’ve never been tested.’ And Hashem gave Satan permission to test us. This is the only plausible reason I could come up with.”
And then Yudi’s voice rose to almost a yell. “But Satan,” Yudi said, “you underestimated us! We will not fall for your trap! We will not point fingers! We will not spread stories! We will not allow this terrible incident to rip us apart! We will double down in how loving we are with one another! I bear no grudge against my friend; he is still my best friend! And I ask you,” he concluded, “to join me in bringing more shalom to the world.”
Tell me that shalom is soft. It is not. Shalom is made of steel. Shalom demands superhuman inner strength.
But I can’t help but wonder if Yudi Herzberg got the details of his heavenly story somewhat wrong. I can’t help but wonder if after October 7th, G-d was boasting at how unified the Jewish People were, how we all came together as one family, across religious divides, across continents. I can’t help but wonder if the Satan was given permission to test us, in Israel, in Baltimore, all over the world, to see if we could really hold it together.
The Herzberg family launched a campaign this past week called Shalom for Charlotte. They are asking people to commit to one act of shalom. These are not weak acts; they are acts that demand strength. Stop waiting for your friend to apologize and take the first step yourself. Call the sibling you haven’t spoken to in years. Take some time to better understand a fellow Jew who has an opinion you believe to be wrong. LINK: https://shalomforcharlotte.com/
As we start the Three Weeks of Mourning, a time to reflect on the cause of the destruction of the Bais HaMikdash there is no greater time to learn from the Rosenblatt’s and to learn from the Hertzberg’s, to find the courage to make peace, the strength to forgive, to make Shalom for Charlotte.