Weekly Inspire

Rabbi Joey Haber

Weekly ethical messages and lessons curated from the Parasha orated by Rabbi Joey Haber

  1. hace 10 h

    Curing the Loneliness

    Many people, understandably, are confused about what the period of Ben Ha'metzarim – the Three Weeks from Shivah Asar Ba'Tammuz through Tisha B'Av – is all about. We observe certain mourning practices, and abstain from a number of activities, culminating with Tisha B'Av, when we fast, sit on the floor, and mourn. What is the purpose of this mourning if we then just resume our normal routines? What's the value of "losing" three weeks of fun during the summer? Why is this necessary? The answer is likely found in the opening verses of Megilat Echah , the collection of lamentations written by the prophet Yirmiyahu after the destruction of the Bet Ha'mikdash , which we read on Tisha B'Av. This Megillah begins: איכה ישבה בדד, העיר רבתי עם היתה כאלמנה.. בכו תבכה בלילה ודמעתה על לחיה אין לה מנחם מכל אוהביה... דרכי ציון אבלות מבלי באי מועד כל שעריה שוממין... How does she [Jerusalem] dwell alone, the city with so many people? She has become like a widow… She cries intensely at night, and her tear is on her cheek; she has no one from all her loved ones to console her… The roads of Zions are in mourning, without anyone coming for the holidays; all its gates are desolate… These opening pesukim clearly emphasize one theme: loneliness. The city that was once teeming with people is now alone, desolate, empty. It is like a widow, who lies alone, without anyone to wipe her tears, to bring her comfort. When people are hurting, the pain is made so much more intense by the feeling of loneliness, by having no one who understands, who commiserates, who provides emotional support. Our job when a friend or family friend is hurting is to make sure that person doesn't feel alone. If there is practical assistance that we can provide, then of course we should try to provide it. But if not, this doesn't mean we can't help. We can – and must – help by showing up, by being there, by calling, by reminding the person that he or she is not alone. This does not mean we are to be sad around the clock when somebody close with us is hurting. We can still enjoy and live a happy life. But we have to make sure that this person does not feel alone. Our Sages teach us that as long as the Bet Ha'mikdash remains unbuilt, Hashem Himself is in exile. He does not have His home, so-to-speak. It is as though Hashem is in pain. And this is what the Three Weeks, the Nine Days, and Tisha B'Av are all about – making sure Hashem is not "alone." During these weeks, we need to show Him that we care, that we have not forgotten about Him, that we understand that things aren't the way they're supposed to be, that He's "suffering." Different occasions on the Jewish calendar require us to connect to Hashem in different ways. The period we are in now requires us to connect to Hashem by feeling His pain, by sharing in His sadness, by showing that we are not indifferent to the "exile" of the Shechinah . One of the commentaries suggested an analogy to a businessman who did everything he could to help his sons and secure their financial future. He bought them homes and gave them money so they could jumpstart their own businesses, borrowing money against his own enterprise. The business couldn't keep up, and he ended up going bankrupt and struggling to repay his debts. One day, his friend saw him sitting and crying. The friend sat down next to him to offer some comfort. "It's not just that I lost all my money," the man said through the tears. "It's that my sons no longer talk to me. I did all this for them, I sacrificed all this for them, and they're not even in touch. That pain is just too much to bear." The pasuk describes Yerushalayim's weeping with the words בכו תבכה , as though there are two different types of crying. Hashem "cries" because He is in exile, but also because His children don't care. Hashem has done so much for us, and we benefit from His blessings each and every day, just like the sons of the man in the story. The period of the Three Weeks is the time to show Him that we care, that we feel His pain, and that we are ready to do what we can to heal it. May we all rise to the occasion and be worthy of the rebuilding of the Bet Ha'mikdash and the return of the Shechinah , אמן .

  2. 9 jul

    When Your Head Exaggerates

    A couple once came to me for advice, explaining that they have several children who are older and still not married. "We're embarrassed to go anywhere," they said. "We know that everyone's looking at us, everyone's feeling sorry for us and talking about what's wrong with us and our children." My response to them was clear and simple. I said: "Get it out of your head. No one's looking at you or talking about you. You're making yourselves upset and anxious for no reason. Go out and enjoy. Stop worrying about what other people are thinking or saying. They have their own problems to worry about. They're not talking about you." I explained that any normal adult who's been through life knows that some folks have a harder time than others – in shidduchim and in everything else. Any normal believing Jew knows that Hashem decides who should get married when, and we do not know and are not supposed to know how He decides these things. So many of the things we worry about, that hold us back and that weigh us down, are simply nonsense. Ideas that our imagination came up with but have no basis in reality. Parashat Maseh begins by listing the 42 places where Beneh Yisrael encamped over the course of their journey from Egypt until their final encampment before crossing into the Land of Israel, a list compiled and recorded by Moshe Rabbenu himself. For the most part, these verses just tell us that Beneh Yisrael journeyed from location X and encamped in location Y. The Torah does not tell us the events they experienced at these locations – not Matan Torah , not the war with Amalek, not the spies. There are, however, a few very unusual exceptions. We are told that in a place called Elim, the people found wellsprings and palm trees. We are told that in Refidim, the people didn't have water. We are told that Aharon Ha'kohen died in Hor Ha'har, at which point the Canaanites were able to attack, because the protective "clouds of glory" which shielded them in Aharon's merit were lost. Why did Moshe choose to mention this small handful of events, while omitting the more major events, such as Matan Torah , the sin of the golden calf, and the sin of the spies? Moshe was showing the people that there were times throughout their travels when they were scared, when they felt vulnerable and insecure, but everything turned out ok. They went into a desert, wondering where they would find water and food – and then they saw that Hashem prepared for them springs and date trees. They later came to a place with no water -and Hashem showed Moshe a rock which he struck, and which then miraculously produced water for the next forty years. When they lost their protective clouds, the Canaanite army attacked, but Hashem helped them and they defeated their enemies. Indeed, Rashi cites the Midrash as comparing Moshe to a father whose son was very ill, and needed treatment far away. On their way back home, the father recalled what happened at every stop along the way – the place where the boy had a fever, where he suffered from extreme pain, and so on. Moshe was showing Beneh Yisrael – and us – that they faced many different challenges over the course of these forty years, but it turned out ok. The situation was not always pleasant, but it always worked out in the end. This is an exercise that we all could – and should – do from time to time: to think about the times when we were very scared, when we were very anxious, when we were very upset, when we were very down, when we were very dejected, and then realize how the situation was somehow resolved. Even if it wasn't resolved exactly the way we would have ideally wanted, we managed. We were ok. When we feel anxious, more often than not, it's because our head exaggerates, turning the problem into something far bigger than it really is, and it imagines things that don't exist. We need to remember that Hashem has always helped us in the past, and He will help us now with whatever it is we're struggling with. Even if things don't turn out the way we want them to, they will turn out ok – because Hashem is in charge.

  3. 2 jul

    Strength, Courage, and Pride

    Parashat Pinhas continues the story that we began reading at the end of the previous parashah , Parashat Balak. After Bilam was unsuccessful in his attempt to place a curse upon Beneh Yisrael , he suggested to the king of Moav a different tactic for destroying them – to send the women of Moav and Midyan to lure Beneh Yisrael to immorality and idol-worship. Tragically, the plan worked. Hashem delivered a plague that killed 24,000 men among Beneh Yisrael who sinned with the women of Moav and Midyan. The plague stopped only when Pinhas – the grandson of Aharon Ha'kohen – stood up and killed two public violators, a man from Beneh Yisrael and a woman from Midyan. At the beginning of our parashah , the Torah names these two people whom Pinhas killed – Zimri, a leader of the tribe of the Shimon; and Kozbi, the daughter of a leader of Midyan. When naming the man who was killed, the Torah says: ושם איש ישראל המוכה אשר הוכה את המדינית – "And the name of the slain man from Yisrael , who was slain together with the Midyanite..." (25:14). The Keli Yakar points out that the Torah here twice mentions that Zimri was killed: איש ישראל המוכה אשר הוכה . This seems unnecessarily repetitive, as though Zimri was killed twice. The explanation might be that Zimri was already "dead" even before Pinhas killed him – because, despite his position of leadership, he went along with the crowd, he followed the tide. Rather than muster the strength to oppose the scandalous behavior – like Pinhas did – Zimri decided to go along with it, to participate, to be "one of the guys." When a person lacks the courage to stand up for his values and principles, if he is just swept away by the current, he surrenders his individuality. He loses his "life" – his uniqueness, his purpose and his mission. How did Pinhas muster this strength and courage? Where did he find the inner resolve and conviction to go against the tide? The answer is found in the way the Torah introduces Pinhas: פינחס בן אלעזר בן אהרון הכהן – "Pinhas, the son of Elazar, the son of Aharon Ha'kohen." Rashi, at the beginning of our parsha , writes that the Torah here is emphasizing Pinhas' distinguished lineage. The people were questioning Pinhas' right to do such an act, since his maternal grandfather was an idol-worshipper. Hashem therefore emphasized that Pinhas was also the grandson of Aharon, the great tzadik . Pinhas felt pride in his family background, in his belonging to a family of righteous people. The rest of the nation was acting one way – but he was too proud in who he was, in what his family stood for, to participate. This pride is what gave him the strength and the courage to resist the tide. Parents need to ensure that their children take pride in their family's "brand," in what their family represents. In order to resist the social pressures that they will, undoubtedly, face, they need this sense of pride to anchor them in place, to help them set firm, inviolable boundaries, to know that there are things they don't do, places they don't go, and activities they don't get involved in. And parents engender this pride by making it clear what their "brand" is, what their family is about, what they stand for, and what values they hold dear.

  4. 25 jun

    The Water is Already There

    A community businessman once told me his fascinating story. His business was very successful, at one point supplying more goods to Target than any other company. At that time, 70 percent of his business came from Target. Then, one day, out of the blue, another company that supplied to Target decided that they would continue selling to Target only if Target purchased other goods from them, too. Target had no choice but to purchase for them. And thus one morning, this fellow received a phone call that 70 percent of his business was gone. That day, his father, who would come to his office from time to time, was there. His father noticed that he was upset. The son explained to him that the business could not possibly survive this. "Let me ask you just one question," the father said. "Is this problem bigger than Hashem?" The man told me that this simple question changed his entire attitude. He realized that his father was right. This problem, like every other problem, was not too difficult for Hashem to solve. Within a few short years, this fellow said, the business was doing far better than it did when Target was buying from them. Indeed, no problem is bigger than Hashem. With this story in mind, let us turn our attention to the story of Moshe hitting the rock. After Moshe's sister, Miriam, passed away, the miraculous well which accompanied Beneh Yisrael and provided water in her merit, stopped flowing. The people complained to Moshe, and Hashem commanded him to assemble the people and bring water from the well by speaking to it. As everyone knows, Moshe struck the stone instead of speaking to it, for which he was punished. Among the many difficulties with this story is the fact that when Hashem commanded Moshe to assemble the people, He told Moshe to take his staff. Even though Moshe was to speak to the rock, and not hit the rock, he was told to bring his stick. Why? The Hatam Sofer explained that Hashem was presenting to Moshe two options. The first option was to recognize that the water was already in the rock – just as it had been for forty years until Miriam's passing, to realize that Hashem was ready and prepared to provide everything the people needed, and Moshe had to just say the word. The other option was to feel the need to scrape and claw, to work hard to extract water. The contemporary parallel between these two options are the different perspectives people have towards parnasah (livelihood). Some people, like the businessman described earlier, recognize that the water is already there, that Hashem has the berachah ready for us, He is taking care of us, He has an infinite number of ways to provide us with our needs. Others, however, live in a constant state of anxiety about the "water," wondering where it's going to come from. They feel the need to "strike the rock," to fret and to work extra hard to obtain more and more money. Moshe's mistake, according to the Hatam Sofer , was assuming that the people were not ready for the first option. He decided – incorrectly – that the people needed to see the rock being struck, because they did not have sufficient faith in Hashem. So many young men in our community – and throughout the Orthodox Jewish world – are very nervous about how they are going to support a family. I speak to so many boys preparing to get married, and they express their concerns about affording Orthodox Jewish life. I tell them that in order to get married they need to ensure to have enough income for the present, and the potential to grow. They don't need to have enough money for tuition and a house right away. They need enough for the immediate future, and the potential for growth – and then they can trust in Hashem for the rest. We can spare ourselves a lot of unnecessary anxiety by remember that the water is always there, Hashem is ready to provide us with what we need. Yes, we are going to encounter difficult times, like Beneh Yisrael did, when the "well dries," when we lose the big account or big customer, when the future is uncertain. And when this happens, we need to remember that no problem is bigger than Hashem, that He can and will take care of us in the future just as He did until now. With this mindset, we can live joyfully and contentedly, without the worry and aggravation that weighs so many people down. Hashem provided us with the "water" needed until now – and He will continue doing so in the future, as well.

  5. 18 jun

    Withdrawing & Rising

    The Gemara (Sanhedrin 93a) tells the story of two false Jewish prophets who lived during the time of the Babylonian King Nevuchadnetzar. The king accused them of prophesying falsely, and decreed that they should be thrown into a furnace. He said that if they were real prophets, then they would miraculously survive, just as three righteous Jews – Hananya, Mishael and Azarya – had previously emerged unscathed from the furnace. The two prophets argued that the merit of three righteous men exceeds that of just two, and so this trial was unfair. Nevuchadnetzar allowed them to choose a third person with whom to be cast into the furnace, and they selected the tzadik Yehoshua Kohen Gadol, hoping that his merit would protect them. The three was thrown into the furnace – and Yehoshua miraculously survived, while the two prophets perished. However, Yehoshua's garment was burned by the fire. Yehoshua was asked why his clothes were burned, whereas Avraham Avinu, when he was thrown into a furnace many centuries earlier, emerged completely unscathed, without even his garments being ruined. Yehoshua answered that since he was in the furnace together with two wicked people, the fire was given permission to consume, and so his garments were burned. Avraham, by contrast, was thrown into the furnace alone, and so the fire was not granted the power to consume anything. This story is teaching us a sobering but important truth: when we are in bad company, we get "burned" to some extent. Even if we succeed in "surviving," in maintaining our beliefs and values, we are likely to be affected. Let us take the example of a person who works with people who routinely use foul, vulgar language. He will, hopefully, "survive," and manage to refrain from speaking the way they do – but he will probably end up using words that he should not use; his standards are likely to be compromised in some way. After Korah and his followers challenged Moshe Rabbenu, launching an audacious uprising against Moshe's authority, Hashem told Moshe and Aharon, הבדלו מתוך העדה הזאת – that they must "separate," or withdraw, from this evil group of people, and Hashem would destroy them (16:21). Later, after Korah and his men were killed, the people continued protesting and arguing, and so Hashem commanded Moshe and Aharon, הרמו מתוך העדה הזאת – to "lift" themselves out of this nation, and He would destroy them. Aharon eventually saved the nation by bringing an incense offering. What's important for our purposes is the distinction between these two terms – הבדלו and הרמו . When possible, we are advised to "separate," to withdraw. Sometimes, there is a small group of people that we don't need to be with, or a small event that we don't need to attend. We need to have the conviction to withdraw, to refuse to go where we shouldn't go, to refuse to be in the company of people who pull us down, who cause us to be "burned" in one way or another. But sometimes withdrawing isn't an option. We all have people and settings that we cannot avoid, that are always going to be part of our lives – such as family members or coworkers. Regarding these, the Torah commands us: הרמו . We need to lift ourselves, to have the courage and confidence to keep ourselves high even when others are trying to pull us down. We do not need to be the product of our surroundings, or even be influenced by our surroundings. We have the capacity to lift ourselves above what is going on around us. The Midrash famously comments that the ארבע מינים – the four species we hold on Sukkot – represent the four different kinds of Jews. The etrog , with its delicious taste and pleasant fragrance, symbolizes the righteous person who both studies Torah and performs good deeds. The aravah , which features neither taste nor scent, symbolizes the Jew with neither Torah nor good deeds to his credit. The hadas branch has a fragrant scent but bears no fruit, while the lulav (palm branch) produces luscious dates but has no aroma – symbolizing those Jews who learn but do not perform mitzvot , or who perform mitzvot but do not learn. We bring the four species together to symbolize unity, the harmonious blending of the many different types of Jews. Significantly, however, while the lulav , aravot and hadasim are bound together, the etrog stands apart. It is held closely with the other three species – but is not tied with them. This shows that to be an " etrog " – to achieve greatness – we sometimes need to stand alone, to withdraw, to rise above. The etrog is held together with the other three species because the righteous person must, on the one hand, stand together with the rest of the people, without snobbery or elitism. However, on the other hand, the etrog remains separate – because one cannot be an " etrog " without occasionally pulling away from those who might keep him down. May Hashem give us the strength we need to withdraw when we need to, and to elevate ourselves when we need to, so we can continue to grow and achieve without anyone or anything ever stopping us.

  6. 11 jun

    A Vulnerable Moment is a Powerful Moment

    The spies were sent to Eretz Yisrael to find out about the land and then report their findings to the people. And this is exactly what they did. They told the people about the extraordinary quality of the land's produce, how it is a land "flowing with milk and honey." And they also told the people about the nations who lived in the land – about their very large, well-trained militaries, and about the enormous, fortified walls protecting their cities. So why were the spies punished? If they saw that the nations in Eretz Yisrael were too powerful, that they could not be defeated, then why were they wrong for sharing this information? Wasn't this exactly their job? A number of commentators explain that the very purpose of this scouting mission was for the meragelim (spies) to see that it was humanly impossible to conquer Eretz Yisrael , that the inhabitants were too powerful, that Beneh Yisrael could not prevail without Hashem's help. The goal was to enhance the people's bitahon , their trust in Hashem, to reinforce their awareness of their reliance of G-d's assistance. The meragelim were to come back with greater bitahon , not less. They were to come back with greater enthusiasm, with greater positivity, not with negativity and discouragement. The point of this mission was to make the people feel vulnerable – because moments of vulnerability are powerful moments, moments when a person can reinforce his faith and trust in Hashem, and feel closer to Him than ever before. Tragically, the meraglim did just the opposite. This is why Hashem punished the people for their sin – listening to the spies and deciding that they could not enter the land – by spending forty years in the desert. For forty years, they lived in an area where naturally a person is incapable of living. For forty years, they lived under Hashem's miraculous care and protection – to build their bitahon . When we confront a difficult reality, when we feel hopeless, when we feel lost, when our lives or the world seems completely out of control and upside-down – this is a powerful moment of vulnerability. This is a time for us to let go, to reaffirm our belief that Hashem controls the world, that nothing is random, that everything is under His control. We read in Sefer Bereshit (21:14) that after Abraham Abinu sent away Hagar, ותלך ותתע במדבר באר שבע – she got lost in the desert. Rashi explains this pasuk to mean that Hagar worshipped idols. The pasuk does not seem to say anything about idol-worship, but somehow, Rashi understood that this is what it means. The explanation is that when a person feels "lost," this shows a deficiency in his emunah , in his faith in Hashem. If we truly believed that Hashem controls everything, then we will never feel "lost" under any circumstances. No matter how chaotic the world seems, no matter what life throws at us, no matter how uncertain the future appears – we will feel calm and reassured, recognizing that everything is under control. We must try to live with this sense of calmness and serenity. We should not be wasting our time or emotional energy trying to figure out what is going to happen, what the future will bring, how events will unfold. The future is G-d's problem, not our problem. Our responsibility is to do our best in the present, and to leave the rest to Him.

  7. 4 jun

    The Contract of Life

    King Shlomo teaches us in Mishleh (14:27): יראת ה' מקור חיים לסור ממקשי מות – "Fear of G-d is the source of life; turning one away from the traps of death." I believe that this pasuk , if understood properly, is exceedingly powerful, and conveys one of the most important lessons for young people today who struggle with the temptations of modern life. Whenever a person is faced with temptation, he is being offered two contracts, and he needs to choose one. The first contract says: Enjoy now, and ruin the rest of your life. Most of what tempts young people really is enjoyable and fun. Drugs…alcohol…gambling… In the moment, it makes the person happy. He enjoys it. He feels really good. He's excited. But in the long-term – it ruins his life. Once a person starts, it becomes difficult – and sometimes all but impossible – to stop. As the Gemara says about temptation: משביעו – רעב, מרעיבו – שבע . If one satiates his desire – it becomes hungrier for more; if he starves it – it feels satiated. The more a person indulges, the more he wants and the more he needs. This is what we might call the "contract of death." The terms are: You have a great time now, and in the very near future, but you will then pay for this enjoyment the rest of your life, which will be turned upside-down. The other contract says just the opposite: Struggle now, and then enjoy the happiest, most fulfilling life you can have. Yes, there are struggles. But מרעיבו – שבע . If a person accustoms himself to saying "no," to winning the struggle, to resisting temptation, he will find it so much easier for the rest of his life to live a disciplined, accomplished and fulfilling Torah life, which is, undoubtedly, the best life a person could possibly live. This is what King Shlomo is teaching us. יראת ה' – overpowering temptation with the fear of Hashem – is מקור חיים , the source of a rich, happy and fulfilling life. It is what pulls a person away from מוקשי מוות , from the dangerous pitfalls that can literally ruin his life. In our parashah , Parashat Behaalotecha, we learn more about this struggle and how it works. The Torah tells of how Hashem punished Beneh Yisrael for complaining about the conditions in the desert, for objecting to the manna that He provided for them, demanding more. But if we look carefully, we see that they did more than complain. The Torah says, התאוו תאווה – which literally means, "they desired a desire." They weren't faced with temptation. They decided to bring a desire upon themselves. They imagined to themselves that there must be more out there that they were not enjoying. They wanted to have this temptation, because they felt there were missing out. This is what happens to so many young people today. Nobody comes into the world with a natural desire for drugs, alcohol or gambling. But התאוו תאווה – they feel that there must be something rewarding in these activities, that they need to try it, they need to "get it out of their system." But then the תאווה takes over, and threatens to ruin their life. משביעו - רעב . By bringing the desire upon themselves and then feeding it, they make it stronger, resulting in a vicious and catastrophic cycle. When faced with these struggles, one needs to remember the two contracts. There is no third option. By overcoming these challenges, one accesses the מקור חיים – the source to a truly rewarding and beautiful life. This does not mean everything will be easy. No person's life is without difficulty. But if one avoids the מוקשי מוות , the pitfalls that threaten to destroy life, he finds his way to happiness and fulfillment, to the unparalleled joy of following Hashem's will and living a life of meaning and purpose.

  8. 28 may

    People Need Respect

    A certain young man whom I was very close with, and whom I helped a great deal, was getting married. Before the wedding he asked me if I could be an עד קידושין , one of the two witnesses to the kiddushin under the huppah . Now among Ashkenazim, serving as an עד קידושין is considered a great honor, but here in our community, being invited to recite one of the berachot under the huppah is a far greater honor. And I have to say, in all honesty, that I felt hurt by the boy's decision to ask me to be a witness instead of reciting one of the blessings. As mentioned, I was very close with this young man. I helped him grow in his religious observance, and I even helped him in the process of dating and getting engaged. I felt slighted over not having received a berachah . Was I being petty and childish? Was this just my ego going too far? I think that the Gemara teaches us the answer. In Masechet Ketubot, the Gemara discusses the case of a person who was very wealthy, and was accustomed to a comfortable, luxurious lifestyle, until he lost his fortune and became poor. The halachah in this case, surprisingly, is that the people must not only give enough charity to provide him with his basic needs – but also provide him with the comforts and amenities that he was accustomed to. So much so, the Gemara tells, that in the time of Hillel, there was a wealthy man who used to ride in a carriage with someone running ahead of him, and after he fell into hard times, Hillel ruled that he should be provided with a runner. When the people could not find somebody willing to do it, Hillel himself ran in front of this man's carriage. It goes without saying that arrogance and conceit are exceptionally bad qualities from which a person must distance himself from. But there is a huge difference between arrogance and a sense of respect. People need to feel respected. This is a basic human need that we must all acknowledge. There is nothing arrogant or egotistical about wanting to be respected. And in some situations, failing to receive honor hurts. If a person worked very hard to plan an event, for example, and at the event, the speaker acknowledged everyone who volunteered their time except that person, that person will be hurt. This isn't because of arrogance – it's because it's embarrassing. The person feels disrespected. And this is true also of a Rabbi who is very close with the groom. There is a certain expectation of honor – and when that respect is not shown, it feels embarrassing. It hurts. Parashat Naso begins with Hashem commanding Moshe, נשא את ראש בני גרשון גם הם – to count "also" the people of Gershon, the Leviyim who descended from Levi's oldest son, Gershon. In the previous parashah , the family of Kehat – the middle of Levi's three sons – was counted. Kehat was counted first because they were in charge of the most sacred articles in the Mishkan , so they had the more distinguished job. Now, when the time came to count the family of Gershon, Hashem emphasized גם הם – that they, too, must be given honor and respect. As the children of the oldest son, they naturally expected to be treated with honor. And since that honor was not given, and instead the middle son, Kehat, was counted first, Moshe needed to find a way to compensate, to show Gershon honor and distinction so they would not feel embarrassed or disrespected. This is so important for us to realize in our relationships, and in all our interactions with people. People need to feel respected, the way they need oxygen. It's a basic human need. People need to feel respected so they can feel important, that they matter, that their lives are significant and meaningful. This isn't arrogance. It's a basic human need. In every relationship, we need to ensure to make the other person feel respected. We need to realize that their need for respect isn't childish or petty – it's normal. It's human. And we must fill that need. When we speak to people and treat them with respect, we help bring out the best in them. We remind them that they matter, that they have something beautiful and crucial to give to the world – and once they acknowledge that, they will go ahead and make sure to make that beautiful contribution.

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Weekly ethical messages and lessons curated from the Parasha orated by Rabbi Joey Haber

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