Marching against God?

A few years ago during the intifada, the tragedy which seemed to trump all others occurred. Dr. David Applebaum and his daughter, Nava, we killed by a suicide bomber in a Jerusalem café, as they stole a few moments together over coffee the night before her wedding. Her fiancé is someone I know. We lived in his building in Har Nof. They were ‘sweethearts’ since childhood. Her wedding dress still adorns his wall, amidst the tapestry of photos hiding any trace of anything else. David Applebaum, a pious, brilliant, learned Jew and doctor – famous in Israel for having revolutionized emergency room/trauma medicine and himself the head of Sharei Tzedek Hospital – was as righteous and beautiful a person as you could find. A student of the great Yeshivos of Brisk. I can still remember the clock standing still when I heard their names over the radio.

An outrage. Anger at God. How could He? Not like this! Not them! I remember an article published by a colleague of his who bore his existential and philosophical crisis to the public. “We must protest to the Almighty, for when the Almighty does wrong, it is incumbent upon us to rebuke”, he cried. And his proof – Abraham arguing with God over the destruction of Sodom, which we will be reading this Shabbos. Abraham, though with great humility and caution, “argued” the Almighty down from 50 to 10, the number of “righteous” that could thus save the entire city from destruction. While the ten were never found and the city destroyed, Abraham’s stance was successful. However, this columnist raised the following question himself, “Why didn’t Abraham protest when asked to sacrifice his only son?” He left it unanswered.

Rav Naftoli Tzvi Berlin answers the question very poignantly. Before the Almighty announces His plan to destroy Sodom, He pontificates, as it were, and asks rhetorically, “Should I hide my ways from Abraham?” As if to say, “If he’s meant to be the father of the Jewish nation, he must learn how I work in the world.” And what follows is not at all an argument, but rather an intimate lesson on understanding the parameters of God’s judgment and providence. This is born out very clearly in the verses. However, by the Akeida (the binding of Isaac, also found in this week’s Torah reading), there was no such discourse, but rather a call to action. In my own humble opinion, were Abraham not to have been beckoned to probe and understand the Almighty’s ways, he may not have had the resolve and conviction required to stand the greatest test of all. Protest, we don’t. Accomplish, we do. Anger? It’s understandable. But so is God.

We question to understand, to strengthen our resolve. And we stay steadfastly committed to carrying it out.

Good Shabbos,

Rabbi Lynn
& the merry minsters of MLF

Lech Lecha

Good Shabbos,



There’s a very strange occurrence in this week’s Torah portion, לך לך, which describes the first war recorded in the Bible. While the details of each nation and its ruler and the ins and outs of the battles are themselves fascinating, the Torah clearly describes the end of the battle, pillaging of spoils, and the “departure” of the marauding, victorious army. Then, in the very next verse, it says, “and they captured Lot and his possessions – Abraham’s nephew – and they left.” But they had already “departed”? Why did they come back? Why weren’t the victory and the spoils enough to have justified the war? What did they want with Lot?



The word for war in Hebrew is milchomah, מלחמה, which really means – to make bread. People fight for sustenance and survival. One may think it’s merely physical, but underneath, the true threat is spiritual. The first recorded war focused on capturing Lot, Abraham’s nephew. The Sages tell us Lot was made of the mettle of Moshiach – the redeemer: he had the essential mix of spiritual connection (through Abraham) and this-wordly prowess (as evidenced by his subsequent political positions in Sodom) – the ultimate vehicle through which this world and that world connect. He represented God’s revelation of the spiritual truths of God’s world – a direct affront to the pagan nations who battled for dominance. Their temporary conquest was incomplete with mere territorial victory and excess wealth. They came back for Lot. At this stage, Abraham entered the war and single-handedly turned the tide, returning Lot once again to his family.



You see, they fought a war confused as to why they were truly fighting. The wars being fought today are likewise confused. What we do see, however, is that the concept of conventional war is dead and gone. The physical manifestations of the wars being waged, namely terrorism, are deeply indicative of their spiritual qualities. In this same Torah portion, Ishmael, the patriarch and embodiment of our Arabic cousins, is named and born, in that order. A tanaic collection called Pirkei D’Rebbe Eliezar, written some 1500 years ago, describes in detail the meaning behind five people who were named by God before their birth (and then “coincidentally” given that name by the parents). Ishmael, ישמעאל , technically means, “God will hear”, and is explained as follows: In the end of days, God will hear the cries of the children of Israel at the hand of the children of Ishmael. The traditional and historical approach to the battle with Ishmael is deeply spiritual at its core. They surely think so and it could only help if we ventured to see it that way as well. I will try to elucidate these battle-lines from the Torah’s perspective, God-willing, in the near future.



Wishing you all a wonderful Shabbos,



Rabbi Lynn and the MLF gang.