to'eh ba'sadeh

The Torah tells us that when Yosef was sent to look for his brothers, he could not find them.  A man found Yosef "to'eh ba'sadeh," wandering in the fields, and asked him what he was looking for,  "I am looking for my brothers," Yosef replied, and the man then directed him to Dosan to find them.

Do we really need to know that Yosef stopped to ask for directions?  Do we really need a blow by blow report of that conversation?

Obviously there is more going on here than a conversation about directions.  "Va'yimtza'eihu ish," the man offering directions found Yosef.  Normally you go looking for help when you need directions -- the person offering directions doesn't go looking for and find you.  And normally when you ask for directions you specify a place, a street, and address -- "I'm looking for my brothers" is none of the above.  (Parenthetically, this also hints to a deterioration of relations between Yosef and his brothers.  Surely the brothers had certain regular places that they went, yet Yosef seems clueless as to where to find them.  It seems like he spent so little time with them that he was not aware of their habits or usual haunts.)  Why would Yosef assume this man who he has never met would know who his brothers are or where they are?  These clues are perhaps what led Rashi to explain that the unnamed man here is the angel Gavriel.  By including this episode the Torah is revealing G-d's fingerprints all over what happened.  There was no chance Yosef would not find his brothers, return home, and avoid the fate that awaited him. 

But if Rashi is correct that the man Yosef met is an angel, the question that begs asking (and Ibn Ezra does the asking) is why the Torah doesn't explicitly tell us so.  Why couch the man's identity in mystery and rely on us to infer the truth? 

"V'hinei anachnu m'almim alumim b'toch ha'sadeh..."  Yosef in his dreams sees himself as standing in a field, his brothers bowing subserviently to him.  By bringing their "dibasam ra'ah" to their father, but placing himself on a pedestal above them, might Yosef have misjudged his brothers and not treated them favorably enough?  Might this be the "to'eh ba'sadeh" the Torah is hinting at (Mishnas Sachir, Alshich)? 

I think this may be why the Torah never explicitly reveals to us the identity of the unnamed man Yosef met.  Perhaps this was a final chance for Yosef to make amends.  If an angel could appear to be an "ish," and we only know otherwise based on inference and clues, might Yosef's brothers, whose crimes he reported to their father, in truth be far more saintly than he gave them credit for, but he was missing the subtle clues and signs? 

Ya'akov's real estate deal

1. After his encounter with Eisav, Yaakov returned to Eretz Yisrael and built a mizbeiach, fulfilling his vow of "V'haya Hashem li l'Elokim" which he made when he first left home (Seforno 33:20). 

The Torah adds one other detail: Ya'akov bought the property upon which he built the mizbeiach from Chamor for $100.

Why do we need to know the details of the real estate transaction?  What does that have to do with Ya'akov's fulfillment of his religious aspirations?

Ibn Ezra writes that buying a cheilek in Eretz Yisrael is like buying a share in olam ha'ba.  Buying land in Eretz Yisrael is not just a real estate deal, not just a hechsher mitzvah to have a place to make a mizbeiach, but this is part and parcel of Ya'akov's religious mission that he was now able to fulfill upon his return and escape from Eisav.

The Seforno (33:19) has a slightly different explanation that I am unable to understand.  He writes that Ya'akov bought the land because "eich nashir es shir Hashem..."  Meaning, just like we say in al naharos Bavel, in galus it is impossible to serve Hashem properly.  Therefore, Ya'akov made a point of acquiring the land.

What is the comparison?  The Jews who were going into captivity in Bavel were leaving Eretz Yisrael for a foreign country.  "Eich nashir... al admas neichar."  Regardless of who owns the land, Eretz Yisrael is still Eretz Yisrael, not admas neichar.  Avraham and Yitzchak had also offered sacrifices on altars and the Torah does not record that they bought the land for that purpose.

I don't have a good explanation.

2. I believe I saw R' Shlomo Amar as pointing out that although it sounds from our parsha like Shimon and Levi were tremendous warriors and it was their might that led to the conquest of Shechem, in parshas Vayechi, when Ya'akov gives Shechem to Yosef (48:22), he refers to taking the city "b'charbi u'b'kashti," which the Targum translates as Ya'akov's power of tefilah (see also Rashi and Mizrachi there).  Ya'akov may have disapproved of their actions, but it was his koach ha'tefilah that have Shimon and Levi their success. 

preparations and promises

1. About 10 years ago we discussed the machlokes Rashi and the Rosh as to the source for the age of 13 being the age of bar mitzvah.  Rashi (Nazir 29b) writes that Shimon and Levi were 13 years old when they attached Shechem, and they are called "ish," mature adults, at that age -- "VaYikchu... ish charbo."  We don't find the term "ish" being used for anyone at any younger age.  The Rosh writes that the shiur is a halacha l'Moshe m'Sinai with no rhyme or reason attached to it.

The halachic nafka minah between the two views is whether the shiur gadlus of 13 applies to a ben noach.  If the halacha is just a giluy milsa that 13 is the age of da'as, when a person reaches maturity, then the same should hold true for a ben noach.  However, if it is a halacha l'Moshe m'Sinai without any reason attached, then it would apply strictly to a yisrael.

There may be a philosophical nafka minah as well.  The Lubavitcher Rebbe (Likutei Sichos vol 15) suggests the machlokes here may hinge on whether there is a rational basis for mitzvos or whether they transcend reason.  Rashi  aligns himself with the rationalist camp, and therefore the chiyuv in mitzvos depends on the age at which one attains da'as and maturity.  The Rosh, however, disagrees.  (The Rebbe then goes on to suggests even according to Rashi the kabbalas ol of mitzvos is something that transcends da'as.)

2. Although Ya'akov invokes G-d's promise "Hashem ha'omeir eilay shuv l'artzecha u'l'moldtecha v'eitiva imach" in his tefilah, he still prepares for battle, sends presents to Eisav, and is worried about the encounter.  Chazal tell us that he was concerned "shema yigrom ha'cheit" and he would not be worthy of the promise.  If so, what good is mentioning it in his tefilah?

Alshich explains that Ya'akov's words are meant to justify his behavior.  Why the need for preparation, why the anxiety, when G-d made a promise?  The answer is "Hashem h'omeir eilay..."  Hashem = the midas ha'rachamim.  In last week's parsha Ya'akov responded to that promise with a neder, "Im yihiyeh Elokim imadi..."  Elokim = midas ha'din.  Ya'akov wanted to earn his reward, not receive it simply because of G-d's grace or mercy, a free gift.  Here too, Ya'akov acknowledges the promise, but notes that it was given as an act of rachamim.  That opens the door for the midas ha'din to raise objections.  Therefore, promise notwithstanding, the encounter with Eisav poses a danger.

I was wondering if you could answer the question more simply.  Perhaps tefilah has its own rules.  Even if shema yigrom ha'cheit, one can ask for G-d's help anyway.  After all, isn't every tefilah really a request for G-d to intercede even if we are unworthy? 

Eliezer's tefilah / test

My son was complaining to me that if I don't write anything on the parsha it will be 2 straight weeks with nothing...

Had Eliezer followed Avraham's instructions he would have travelled to Aram Naharayim, asked around to find Avraham's family, knocked on the door, and hoped to find a suitable match for Yitzchak there.

But that's not what he did.  Aside from the whole test he setup to find a girl who excels at doing chessed (and if Avraham didn't tell him to do that, we should ask ourselves why Eliezer thought it necessary, but that's a different topic...), the Torah tells us that he davened.  "Vayomar Hashem Elokei adoni Avraham hakei na lifanay hayom v'aseh chessed im adoni Avraham..." (24:12).  According to Rashi, even the conclusion of Eliezer's description of the test he was setting up, "u'bah eidah ki asisa chessed im adoni," (24:14) is not a statement of fact. i.e. the test proves that Hashem did a chessed and he found the right girl, but rather is part and parcel of his tefilah, i.e. "u'bah eidah..." through this test I pray that I will know who the right girl is.  It's not a tefilah + a test, but it's one big tefilah that things work out (Ramban and others disagree). 

I think it's safe to assume that if we would say a little tehillim before embarking on an important project, the Avos and the people in their household would do no less.  Had the Torah not told us that Elizer davened, would we have assumed otherwise?  Of course not.  So while the details of the test might be necessary and relevant to the story, the question begs itself: why does the Torah feel the need to stress Eliezer's tefilah here?

The Sefas Emes asks the question, but I want to offer a different answer than the one he gives. 

There is an interesting machlokes in the meforshim how to interpret the tefilah of Eliezer.  Most (Targum Yonasan, Ibn Ezra, Ramban, Kli Yakar) interpret "hakrei na lifanei" to mean that Hashem should cause the right girl to appear before Eliezer.  However, Alshich and more clearly the Netziv read it differently.  Before Eliezer left Avraham's home, Avraham gave him a bracha: "Hu [Hashem] yishlach malacho lifanecha..." Hashem should send his angel along with him to help (24:4).  Now Eliezer gets to Aram Naharayim and he davens to Hashem, "hakrei na lifanei," you, Hashem, please appear before me.  It's not enough for me to have the help of a malach to pull this off -- I need you here with me.   

I think the Chazon Ish is quoted as saying that the last remnant of open hashgacha that we have left is in inyanei shidduchim.  It's not the shadchan, it's not even malachim, but it's Hashem himself who makes a match happen, even sometimes in the most unlikely situations.

That's perhaps why the Torah makes a point of including the tefilah of Eliezer.  Of course everything the Avos did was accompanied by tefilah.  But when it comes to the parsha of marriage, tefilah is not just a nice thing to do to accompany the mitzvah, but it is part and parcel of the mitzvah itself.  Since direct intervention of the yad Hashem is necessary, tefilah, dveikus with Hashem, asking Hashem for that direct involvement, is a must.

bris bein ha'besarim -- nevuah or havtacha

1. In R' Shternbruch's teshuvos (vol 1) quotes an interesting sevara from R' Shmuel Rozovsky: since an aveil is exempt from leaning Torah and even kri'as haTorah (during the week if an aveil is called up for an aliya he has to decline and not go up), therefore the aveil is not mitztareif to a minyan for krias haTorah.  Meaning, if there are 9 people in the minyan + the aveil, there is not a tzibur that is chayav in kri'as haTorah.  R' Shternbruch does not pasken this way, but it's an interesting idea.

2. The first Rashi in chumash that says the Torah opens with the idea of creation to prove that all the land in the world belongs to G-d and he can therefore give us "nachalas goyim."  My BIL R' Yochanan in his parsha thought for Braishis here commented on this expression of "nachalas goyim."  "Why is it called an inheritance of nations, implying that Israel rightfully belonged to them? It belongs to us!"

Not that he needs my help, but I would strengthen the question.  The Rambam in Sefer haMitzvos (third shoresh) writes that the command Moshe was given not to attack Eisav who was living in Se'ir, and the command not to attack Amon and Moav are not counted as mitzvos.  A mitzvah, says the Rambam, has to apply for all eternity.  One day Moshiach will come and we will have permission and be zocheh to conquer all of these lands.  Ramban disagrees.  These lands, says Ramban, are called a "yerusha," and there is a principle in halacha that nachala ain lah hefesk, an inheritance is forever, it passes from generation to generation automatically.  The land of Eisav, Amon, and Moav are forever off limits for us.  So how then will be allowed to one day conquer this territory?  Ramban answers that Sancherev mixed up all the people in the world.  Amon and Moav are no longer living in their ancestral home, Eisav is not living in his ancestral homeland, and so when we conquer these lands it is really a different people that we will one day be conquering.   

We see from Ramban that when something is given as a yerusha = nachala, it is forever.  So why then does the pasuk speak of the land of Israel as "nachalas goyim" when the land was meant ultimately for us?! 

You have to read his answer there.

3. Now that we know this Ramban, when we come to the promise of Bris ben hBesarim in our parsha of the land of 10 nations being given to Avraham, we have to read a little more carefully.  One of those 10 lands is the Se'ir land of Eisav, and two of the lands are the territory of Amon and Moav, given to Lot's decedents.  If it belongs to them forever -- nachala ain lah hefsek -- how then could G-d promise the same land to Avraham? 

It must be (see Avi Ezri Hil Melachim 6:1) that Avraham was not actually being given the land directly, but was being shown prophetically that his children will eventually conquer those lands after Sancherev does his population resettlement.  It is a nevuah, not a havtacha.  The Rambam disagrees with this whole theory and l'shitaso holds (Rotzeiach 8:4) that the 10 lands were promised to Avraham directly and never given as a permanent inheritance to anyone else.  

4. "V'lo nasa osam ha'aretz la'sheves yachdav ki haya rechusham rav v'lo yachlu lasheves yachdav."  (13:6)  First the pasuk tells us that Avraham and Lot could not live together because there was not enough grazing land for all their flocks, but then the pasuk again repeats, "v'lo yachlu lasheves yachdav," that they could not live together.  Why the redundancy?

We see from here, explains R' Shimon Sofer, how machlokes works.  At first, there might be a very good reason for disagreement.  Avraham and Lot and their shepherds could not agree on who should graze where.  But at some point, once the fire of machlokes is lit, even if the reason has long since been forgotten or ameliorated, the fight continues of its own accord.  "V'lo yachlu lasheves yachdav" now irrespective of the reason the fight started.  

Once started, machlokes will take on a life of its own.  

hespeidan shel tzadikim m'akeves as ha'puranus

Hashem tells Noach (7:4) to come into the ark because in seven days the flood will start.  Rashi quotes Chazal (Sanhedrin 108) that these seven "bonus" days (on top of the 120 years it took Noach to build the ark, which put people on notice) were the 7 days of mourning for the tzadik Mesushelach.  (The gemara quotes this limud on the pasuk 7:10, "Va'yehi l'shivas ha'yamim..."  The meforshim discuss why the gemara quotes the derash only on the later pasuk but not on the earlier pasuk used by Rashi.) From here Chazal learn that "hespeidan shel tzadikim m'akeves as ha'puranus," the days of hesped and mourning for the tzadik have he power to delay an evil decree.

What is it about the hesped of the tzadik that gives it that power?  Maharasha explains that hearing about the tzadik should inspire people to do teshuvah.  They should realize that the righteous person whose presence perhaps protected them from harm is no more, and now it is up to them to repent or face the consequences.  (The Rambam writes that aveilus is meant as a time of teshuvah, not just a time to mourn.)

Similarly, Maharal in Ch Aggados writes that it is the pain people feel at the loss of the tzadik that serves as the protection.  Hashem does not rub salt into people's wounds to pile tzarah on top of tzarah.  The loss of the tzadik, if taken to heart, is suffering enough and additional "puranus" is rendered unnecessary.

The Iyun Ya'akov (see also R' Povarski's sefer Bad Kodesh) explains it a little differently. The gemara (Shabbos 153) writes that a person's soul is present when people are maspid them.  During the week of hesped for Mesushelach, it was like he was still there!  Just like the presence of the tzadik protected people from harm during his lifetime, so too, through hesped it is like the tzadik is still present even after death, still offering his protection.

During a week of shiva, when people speak about their loss, when people still connect so strongly with the departed, it is like they are still there.  It is a final opportunity for hiskashrus.  Their presence, in turn, can serve as an inspiration to teshuvah, to closeness with family, to deeper connection.

Noach = neicha, even amidst a flood of sorrow

Over the past few weeks I have been adding to each post to please have in mind that the learning should be a zechus for a refuah sheleimah for my mother-in-law, Mrs Schulamith Bechhofer.  Sadly, the limud in this post is l'zecher nishmasa, as she past away last Sunday and my wife and her sister, brothers, aunts and uncles are in the middle of shiva.

My MIL was among the "pleitas sofreihem" of a different time and place.  Her father was a talmid muvhak of R' Yosef Bloch in Telz; her mother came from a prominent family (Mussensohn) in Lita.  She was born in Switzerland, where her father served as Rav in Basel for 17 years before the family moved to Holland and then eventually to Canada.  She was the oldest of her siblings, and, as I heard during the shiva week from relatives, she was always there, often behind the scenes, to lend a helping hand to them.  Those who live in Far Rockaway may remember her from the many years she served with distinction as a morah in Torah Academy for Girls (TAG), the school my wife and all my daughters attended.  My MIL always projected a sense of dignity and formality, traits that have been almost completely lost in our age where everyone is so casual and lets everything hang out.  She had high expectations and set high standards for her children and grandchildren; she could be tough and demanding, but it was meant l'tovah because she wanted us to grow and accomplish.  There are two people who would always read, print, and share with others whatever I manage to write here every week -- one was my father a"h, who would print out what I wrote and show it to people in his shul, and one my MIL a"h, who told me more than once how much she enjoyed reading what I and my wife wrote.  She took pride in the fact that her children could write and transmit words of Torah, and therefore it's only fitting to share some divrei Torah in her memory.

The family was close to the Lubavitcher Rebbe, so one idea from a sicha: Noach is a very strange name for our parsha.  Noach the person was given that name because "zeh yinachameinu m'ma'aseinu umei'itzvon yadeinu," he brought comfort -- Noach=neicha, see Rashi -- and eased the burden of toiling the earth for all mankind.  Noach the parsha is about anything but comfort and peace.  It tells the story of the devastation flood that destroyed everything on earth.  How does the name fit?

The Rebbe answers that al korchacha what we learn from the name of the parsha is that even amidst calamity and sorrow, behind the scenes is the potential for "neicha."  Hashem's plan is always to our benefit, even if the path is sometimes painful.  The haftarah calls the waters of the flood "mei Noach" -- not a mabul.  The navi, with his prophetic insight, is telling us that "neicha" can emerge even from the waters of destruction.  "Va'yarach Hashem es rei'ach ha'nichoach" -- the world that emerged after the flood was a better one, one that was immune from further destruction, one where man can bring nachas ruach to Hashem.   

And so it is when we face our own tragedies and sorrow.  We don't have the benefit of the insight of a navi, but we hope and trust that whatever pain Hashem brings ultimately is for the sake of "neicha," to bring us comfort and make us stronger.

People always say that the departed should be a "meilitz yosher."  Some people even go so far as to say the departed should intercede upstairs and help with specific things that we need down here.  My wife thought this is the wrong way to look at things.  To paraphrase President Kennedy, we should not ask what the departed can do for us -- we should be asking ourselves what we can do for the departed.  What can we do to serve as a zechus and credit to their memory?  What can we do to better exemplify the midos, Torah, yiras shamayim that they wanted us to have and tried to instill in us?  How can their memory inspire us?  This is the message to take away from aveilus. 

making your own gan eden

This limud should be a zechus for a refulah shleimah for Shulamis bas Sarah Sosha.

Chazal (Shabbos 133) teach us that we have an obligation of "mah hu... af atah," of imitation Dei, of imitating G-d's behavior.  Just like G-d is rachum, we should show rachamanus; just like G-d visits the sick, buries the dead, etc. so should we do the same.  R' Yitzchak Isaac Sher in his Sichos Mussar (vol 1 p 62) quotes a klal gadol from the Alter of Slabodka that extends this principle even further: just as Hashem created gan eden for Adam haRishon, so too each one of us is obligated to create a gan eden for ourselves and our fellow man.  

That's a pretty tall order.  It's hard enough to make the world even a little better place; how can we even dream of making it into a paradise?  I don't have millions of dollars to build you a mansion, buy you a Ferrari, take care of your needs in luxury -- so how can I make a gan eden for you?

That's the mistake we all make -- we think gan eden is about luxury, about having more expensive "things," with no work to do and no other needs to take care of.  That's not gan eden -- there are people who have all that and who have a miserable life.  What made gan eden into gan eden is the fact that adam ha'rishon knew that everything that was created there was done for his sake -- because Hashem cared for him.  What people want more than anything else is to be cared for.  When Avraham Avinu opened his home to wayfarers in the desert it was gan eden!  Avraham did not necessarily have the most luxurious tent, but Avraham had a home where no matter who you were, you felt welcomed and cared for.  You can make someone a simple cup of coffee, but if you do it in the right way, if you do it as an expression of love, then in that moment you've given that person gan eden.

Let's move to the end of the parsha.  We read there how the bnei Elokim took the bnos ha'adam against their will, how licentiousness and debasement took hold in society.  Hashem decided that if things do not change, he will bring a mabul.  There was, however, one silver lining, and this is how the parsha ends, "u'Noach matzah chein b'einei Hashem."

The Berdichiver in Kedushas Levi says a tremendous yesod.  Let's say there is going to be a wild new year's eve party going on all night.  So you say to yourself, "Aha!  That's the yetzer ha'ra's party -- no way am I going."  You met the enemy -- the yetzer ha'ra -- and vanquished him.  Great job. 

But there is something even better you can do.  You can see that excitement of the party, the "hisla'havus" to stay up all night, and say to yourself, "Aha!  Now I know what I should be doing on Shavuos night."  When the tzadik sees wrongdoing, says the Berdichiver, he takes a lesson from it for avodas Hashem.  The wrong behavior becomes a force that can be redirected for good.

The bnei Elokim were immersed in their ta'avos for beauty, for "chein."  They found it in al the wrong places.  Noach took that same ta'avah, that same desire, that same love of "chein," and instead of simply quashing it, he redirected it.  "Noach matzah chein b'einei Hashem" -- Noach found his "chein" in avodas Hashem.  

the closing act

This limud should be a zechus for a refuah sheleimah for Shulamis bas Sarah Sacha.

Apologies for not having time to write more...

1) The Mishna at the end of the 5th perek of Chulin writes that even though normally only meshicha is koneh, there is a takanah that 4 times a year ma'os konos to buy meat.  Meaning, if you paid the butcher for a brisket for Yom Tov, even if he has to shecht an entire cow to give it to you and he doesn't know if there will be any other customers, he has to do so and can't just return your payment.  The payment completes the sale and the butcher can't back out.  There is such a demand for brisket for the Yom Tov that Chazal made is easier for everyone to get their meat : )  

Interestingly, Sukkos is not one of these 4 days, but erev Shmini Atzeres is.  Chasam Sofer in his Derashos quotes from the Yaavet"z that this proves that the chasima of our din is still incomplete until the end of the chag.  Who can truly fully celebrate when there is an unresolved judgment hanging over their head?  Who can enjoy their brisket in that state?  It's only at the end of the chag, as we approach Shmini Atzeres, when all will be resolved l'tovah IY"H, that we can celebrate.

2) The Midrash teaches that ha'posei'ach, the one who opens the Torah reading, recites a bracha, and the choseim, the one who reads last, closes the reading with a bracha.  (In the days of Chazal there was not a bracha recited before/after each aliya like we do, but rather one bracha was said before the start of the kriah and one at its conclusion).  The source of the bracha before reading, says the Midrash, is the pasuk "baruch atah Hashem lamdeini chukecha."  The source for the bracha at the conclusion of the reading is because "v'zos habracha..."  follows the shirah of Ha'azinu.

The obvious question: the pasuk of "v'zos habracha…" is not a blessing on the words of Torah that Moshe read.  It is a blessing given to Klal Yisrael.  What does that have to do with birchas haTorah?

Sadly, for a lot of people Torah is a closed book.  Take a peek at your average yeshivah high school classroom, for example, and you will see the glazed over eyes of the students, the captives forced to sit listening to lectures on topics that have no interest in, analyzing a dry book written in a language they cannot understand.

"Ha'posei'ach ba'Torah…"  How do you open that book?  It starts with "baruch atah Hashem lamdeini chukecha."  No one comes to school and says "Thank G-d we can study algebra today!" or "Thank G-d for Hamlet today!"  But when we sit down and crack open a sefer, that's how we have to start our learning.  We need to build love and appreciation for Torah first, before getting to the Tosfos or the R' Chaim, or we will never get out of the starting gate.

But even after you come to appreciate Torah, that's not enough.

"Sameini k'chosam al libecha…"   A chosam is a seal; it identifies who you are.  V'zos habracha is about who we are as Klal Yisrael -- our strengths and weaknesses, our future destiny.  Ha'choseim ba'Torah means Torah defines who we are.  It's not just a book we study; it's our identity.

We opened the Yamim Tovim with Rosh haShana and tekiyas shofar; now we come to the chasima: not just the closing of the books, the closing of the din, but the "sameini k'chosam" -- when we take all we have gleaned from these special days and make it part of our identity, part of who will be will during this coming year.  (based on Shem m'Shmuel Nitzavim 5672)

tzeila d'heimnusah

כְּתַפּ֨וּחַ֙ בַּֽעֲצֵ֣י הַיַּ֔עַר כֵּ֥ן דּוֹדִ֖י בֵּ֣ין הַבָּנִ֑ים בְּצִלּוֹ֙ חִמַּ֣דְתִּי וְיָשַׁ֔בְתִּי וּפִרְי֖וֹ מָת֥וֹק לְחִכִּֽי

Shir haShirim (3:3) compares the beloved one, dodi, an allusion to G-d, to an apple tree in the forest.  It's beautiful shade is desirous to sit under; it's fruit is so sweet.

Rashi quotes the Midrash: All flee from the apple tree because it has no shade. So did all the nations flee from G-d at the giving of the Torah, but I sat and delighted in his shade(see here).

Meaning, the apple tree signifies the unique and special bond between Klal Yisrael and Hashem.

The mashal used by the Midrash begs the question m'mah nafshach: if the apple tree has shade, then why did everyone flee from it and not want to sit there?  And if the apple tree has no shade, then what does the pasuk mean by "b'tzilo chamaditi?"

The simple pshat in the pasuk "Hashem tzilcha" (Tehillim 121) is that Hashem is like a protective shade over us.  The Besh"T, however, famously interpreted the pasuk to mean that Hashem's relationship to us is like a shadow.  When you stand in the sun and move, your shadow moves with you.  So too, what happens to us in our lives, what happens to our families, even what happens to the cosmos, is effected and is changed by Hashem in response to our behavior.  You want there to be more chessed in the universe?  Act with chessed.   You want there to be more justice in the world?  Act with justice.  Hashem will in turn react and respond by revealing more of these midos in the world.

Sefas Emes explains that all the nations of the world see the apple tree, but they don't see any shade, so they walk away.  They see a world without chessed, and so they think it's a cruel place; they see a world where there is suffering, and they think there is no justice.  What they don't get is that whatever they see is just a reflection of themselves and what they are willing to bring to the table --  Hashem tzilcha.  Klal Yisrael believes the shade is there even if we don't see it at first, and so we come with our emunah, we come with the tremendous desire to connect to Hashem.  When you bring that to the table, then Hashem responds and you will find the shade you were looking for.  

Sukkah is the "tzeila d'heimnusah," the shadow of emunah.  Hashem comes to Avaraham at the Bris bein haBesarim, "Va'yotzei oso ha'chutzah," (Braishis 15:5) he tells him to go outside and count the stars, and promises that his children will be that numerous and great.  "V'he'emin ba'Hashem," Avraham was filled with emunah when he heard the message.  On Sukkos we imitate Avraham Avinu.  Hashem tells us to go outside, leave your house and go sit under the stars that you see through the schach of your sukkah and count them.  Do you believe in the destiny and greatness of Klal Yisrael, or do you believe what you read in the NY Times?  Do you see the shade under the apple tree?  Because if you believe in it, you will find it there. 

why Klal Yisrael's tefilah could not save Moshe from dying

Please have in mind that this limud should be a zechus for a refuah sheleimah for Shulamis bas Sarah Sascha.

At the end of the parsha (32:48) Hashem told Moshe to go "b'etzem ha'yom ha'zeh," this very day, up to Har Nevo, to look out over the Land, and then and to die.

Rashi points out that there are three places where the Torah uses this expression of "b'etzem ha'yom ha'zeh."  The common denominator between them is that in all three places there was a hava amina by human beings to try to stop G-d, and G-d responded by carrying out his plans in the middle of the day to demonstrate that no force can stop him.  When G-d was about to bring the flood, the dor ha'mabul threatened to destroy the ark; G-d in turn ordered Noach to enter in the middle of the day to prove that they could not stop him.  The Egyptians thought they would prevent Klal Yisrael from leaving; G-d took them out right in the middle of the day to prove the Egyptians wrong.   Finally, here, Klal Yisrael thought that they would cling to Moshe and not let him die; G-d arranged his death in the middle of the day.

We understand the hava amina of taking axes and breaking the ark; we understand the hava amina of taking up arms to stop Klal Yisrael from leaving Egypt.  But how could Klal Yisrael have even had a hava amina of stopping Moshe's death?  What power do human beings have to stop someone from dying?

R' Chaim Shmuelevitz answers that the power we have is the koach ha'tefilah. 

The gemara (Kesubos 104) tells us that when Rebbi was about to die, the tefilos of his generation kept him on earth until, seeing his suffering, his maid caused an interruption to the prayers so that Rebbi could depart this world in peace.   

We just said over the Yamim Noraim that teshuvah, tefilah, and tzedaka can avert an evil gezeirah. 

Now that we know the power our tefilah has, I have a simple kashe: so why didn't it work?  Why did the tefilos of Klal Yisrael keep Rebbi in this world, clinging to life, but G-d forced Moshe "b'etzem ha'yom ha'zeh" to pass away irrespective of what Klal Yisrael wanted and davened for?   

I think the answer to the question is rooted in the nature of Moshe's sin at mei meriva.  Netziv on our pasuk briefly reminds us of his interpretation of that episode, which he elaborates on more fully in Chukas.  Hashem wanted mei meriva to be a "teachable moment," as they call these things in the world of education.  It would be another step in the transition from life in the desert surrounded by miracles to the life of teva in Eretz Yisrael.  What do you do when you life in the world of teva and you face a drought?  Hashem wanted Moshe to show the people that the answer to their needs would come through tefilah and Torah study.  That's how we who live in the mundane world approach G-d with our needs.  But that's not what Moshe did.  Instead, he hit the rock, and through a miracle -- much like the other miracles that happened in the desert -- the rock produced water.  In response, Hashem told Moshe that since he was stuck in the miracle mode of desert life and could not transition to the teva life of Eretz Yisrael, he would not be the one to lead the people there.

Moshe now in our parsha  must pay the ultimate price for his sin and die before entering the land.  Al asher m'altem bi... b'mei merivas Kadesh..." I think is not merely a reminder of what Moshe did wrong, but is an explanation of why tefilah here did not work.   Because he did not capitalize on the koach ha'tefilah to meet the people's needs at Mei Merivah, midah k'neged midah, the koach ha'tefilah could not work on Moshe's behalf here to spare him from his fate.

At this special time of year may all our tefilos for all our needs be speedily answered.

Rav Kook's heirarchy of types of teshuvah

The gemara (R"H 16b) writes that there are 4 things which can cause a gzar din to be ripped up and nullified: 1) tzedaka; 2) tzea'ka (i.e. tefilah); 3) shinuy ha'shem (i.e. changing one's identity, personality); 4) shinuy ma'aseh, which Rashi explains to mean "shav mei'ra'aso," repenting from one's evil ways.

Rashi is difficult.  M'mah nafshach: if a person truly repents from his evil ways, then that alone should suffice for teshuvah.  But if a person does not repent from his evil ways, then all the tzedaka, tzea'ka, and shinuy shem will not help.  So all 4 items really boil down into one (see Ritv"a).

I would like to suggest the following hesber:

Rav Kook opens Orot Teshuvah by teaching us that there is a hierarchy of three different types of teshuvah:

1) Teshuvah that comes through teva, human nature.  This can be broken into two subcategories:
A) Physical teva -- a smoker who gives up his cigarettes because he realizes that smoking is bad for his health is doing this type of teshuvah.
B) Moral teva -- guilt can eat away at a person's kishkes. and keep a person up at night.   The desire to restore one's moral and psychological health is part of teva.  Think of Dostoevsky's Crime and Punishment and I think you have an idea of what Rav Kook means here. 

2) Teshuvah of emunah -- it doesn't come from within a person, but rather the external force of religion, social norms, etc. cause person to want to fall into line.  A person does not want to live in discord with what the outside world tells him is right and good.

3) Tehuvah of the seichel -- this is the highest form of teshuvah.  This is repentance that comes not from physical or psychological discomfort, not from the pressure to conform to outside norms, but rather the intellectual realization that one's values and life goals are discordant with what is true and ethical, and therefore, one must change.  

(BTW, it seems that these three avenues roughly correspond with the Maharalian triad of guf, nefesh and seichel.  Maybe you can figure out a way to fit the avodah of the three Avos into these boxes as well.)

When Rashi writes "shav mei'ra'aso," he is not explaining WHAT the person is doing -- he is explaining WHY the person is doing teshuvah.  Rashi is explaining that we are talking about a person doing teshuvah because he cannot live with his own evil, a teshuvah of teva, because things are eating away at his kishkes.  We are speaking about a person who is running away from the evil within and looking for an escape.  You might have though that only a higher form of teshuvah would be sufficient to remove a gzar din.  Kah mashma lan our sugya that even the lowest form of teshuvah suffices to do the job.

Lo yoveh Hashem s'loach lo -- hope for change

1) We read in the shir ha'ma'alos m'ma'amakim, "Ki imcha ha'selicha l'ma'an tivarei" -- Hashem, forgiveness comes from you, so that we may come to fear you.  It's a very strange line.  You would think that if there was no forgiveness, we would have more to fear.  But we say exactly the opposite -- precisely because G-d forgives, we will fear him more.  How does that make sense?   

There is a pasuk in our parsha that may shed some light on things.  Our parsha describes the person who disregards the bris between the Jewish people and Hashem, and instead, "v'hisbareich bi'lvavo leimor," he says in his heart, "b'sherirus libi ei'leich," I'm going to do what I want (29:18).  The parsha continues, "lo yoveh Hashem slo'ach lo," Hashem will not want to forgive such a person, "u'macha Hashem es shemo," his name will be obliterated.

All we hear about this time of year is teshuva.  Tanach is filled with admonitions asking us to do teshuva.  Yet here, in the parsha we read right before Rosh haShana, the Torah tells us that G-d will not forgive this wrongdoer.  What kind of message is that?

The Beis HaLevi answers that we put the quotation marks in the wrong place.  "Lo yoveh Hashem s'loach lo" is not the Torah's response to the wrongdoer -- it's a continuation of the wrongdoer's statement.  It also belongs in the quotation marks.  The sinner is not just rejecting the bris with Hashem, but more than that and perhaps worse than that, he  rejects the possibility of undoing his disavowal of the bris.  When there is no hope for change, there is no check on evil. When there is no hope, there is no reason to not do whatever you want because it's not going to make a difference anyway.

Last week Rabbi Y Y Jacobson spoke in Far Rockaway and he quoted the Ba'al haTanya as saying a similar explanation of the pasuk in shir ha'ma'alos.  Imagine a person who has lost millions and is being pressured by the bank to repay everything.  He knows he has no chance of repaying anything close to what they are asking for, so he figures why bother -- might as well spend the money on something enjoyable.  Once you are in debt way over your head with no chance of paying it back, what's a little more or a little less?  "B'sherirus libi ei'leich!"  But if the bank tries to work out a payment plan, forgives the interest, and tries to help the person recover, then things are different.  "Ki imcha ha'selicha" -- Hashem is willing to work with us on a payment plan, bit by bit, one step at a time.  He gives us the hope that we need, the belief that we can in fact make amends and correct things.  There is no reason to throw everything away -- there is a life preserver that gives us a reason to hold onto our yiras shamayim.

2) Others suggest a different pshat in that pasuk in Nitzavim "lo yoveh Hashem s'loach lo."  It doesn't say "lo yislach lo," that Hashem will not forgive -- it says "lo yoveh," Hashem does not want to do it.  Hashem does not kavyachol want to give a free pass to a person who has done such wrong.  However, Hashem does it anyway.  Such is the greatness of teshuvah.   

3) And for the sake of completeness, let me give you a different pshat in the pasuk in the shir ha'ma'alos.  There are a lot of people who are looking for quick fixes.  They want a segulah, an easy solution.  Tell someone who has sinned that they have to fast x days, give $x to charity, wear X, say X, etc. and it's a done deal.  Wave the magic wand, and poof, it's all good.  No one is really afraid of sin if that's all it takes to make things better.  But that's not what it's really all about.  "Ki imcha ha'slicha" -- forgiveness only comes from G-D, with a capital G.  Nothing else works.  It's hard to stand naked (spiritually, emotionally, psychologically) before the King of Kings and face up to what we do with our lives.  "L'ma'an tivarei" -- that's something that should make you tremble. 

4) Tos. writes that we blow 100 shofar blasts because of the 100 cries of Sisra's mother as she waited for him to return from battle, eventually realizing that he would in fact never be coming home.  The connection between shofar and the cries of Sisra's mother is baffling.  My wife suggested the following: The Midrash writes that because Ya'akov caused Eisav to cry when he took the brachos, therefore Mordechai ha'tzadik had to suffer and cry at Haman's hands (see post here).  Causing pain, even to one's enemy, is a dangerous thing.  

The tears of Sisra's mother had the potential to arouse a kitrug against Klal Yisrael.  Therefore, we need the kol shofar to temper that judgment.  The cry of the shofar, genuichei ganach, y'lukei yalil, drowns out the cries of our enemies. 


5) Lastly, in case I don't write before Rosh haShana, I wish everyone a kesiva v'chasima tovah for the upcoming year.

kedushas ha'aretz as an extension of the mikdash

1) The Mishna in Kelim (1:6) writes that Eretz Yisrael has greater kedusha than all other lands because bikurim, shtei ha'lechem, and the omer can only be brought from Eretz Yisrael.  Why should the Mishna have seized on only these examples to illustrate kedushas ha'aretz?  Why not refer to any of the mitzvos ha'teluyos ba'aretz that only apply in Eretz Yisrael?

R' Soloveitchik explains that there are 2 dinim in kedushas ha'aretz: 1) sanctity of the land itself, which creates the chiyuvim of mitzvos ha'teluyos ba'aretz; 2) sanctity of the land that is a function of it being the makom ha'mikdash.

The Mishna is speaking about kedushas ha'aretz which is a function of the land being an extension of the mikdash.  Therefore, it refers only to those items which grow in the land and are brought to the mikdash as an offering. 

This explains why that although the Rambam paskens that eiver ha'yarden is chayav m'd'oraysa in terumos u'maasros (Terumos 1:6, Mishne l'Melech ch 4), he paskens (Bikurim 2:1) that the chiyuv to bring bikurim from eiver ha'yarden is only derabbanan.  Eiver ha'yarden has kedushas ha'aretz with respect to mitzvos ha'teluyos ba'aretz, but lacks the kedusha of being an extension of the mikdash.


Rav Wahrman in his She'eiris Yosef (vol 2 siman 26) uses this yesod to answer Tos question as to why the gemara (Baba Basra 81) needs a special derasha of "b'artzecha" to teach us that bikurim applies only in Eretz Yisrael.  Why is that not implicit in its being a mitzvah ha'teluya ba'aretz?  He suggests that since bikurim is connected not to the kedusha of the land in and of itself, but rather to the mikdash, therefore it does not fall under the same umbrella of the other mitzvos ha'teluyos ba'aretz and we need a new limud.

(One wrinkle in all this is that the Rambam Shemita 4:28 paskens that shemita does not apply m'doraysa in eiver ha'yarden.  Rav Wahrman works out a connection between shemita and mikdash -- ayen sham.)

"V'haya ki savo el ha'aretz..." -- "ain v'haya elah lashom simcha."  Coming to Eretz Yisrael, coming to bask in the kedushas ha'aretz, is the greatest simcha, a taste of the simcha of geulah, "az yimalei sechok pinu."   (Ohr haChaim).  Ashrei doreinu that we have such an opportunity.

2) "...Nisativ la'ger la'yason v'la'almanah... lo avarti m'mitzvosecha v'lo shachachti."  Klal Yisrael knows how to open their pocketbooks and give.  There was recently a tragedy in the community where a women passed away and left a family with young children and there was immediately an effort to raise a substantial sum to help them.  We all do a tremendous job of jumping in to help when people need it.

But what happens in a month?  How many people will remember that family and those children?  How many people will think of them in a year?  In 5 years?

When the needs of the ger, yasom, or almanah are staring us in the face on yeshivaworld or some other place, it tugs at the heart strings.  But that's not all the Torah wants.  "V'lo shachachti!"   I didn't forget about them!  The empathy didn't fade away a week, a month, a year, later.   It wasn't out of sight, out of mind.  (based on the Mishnas Sachir)

millstones and marriage

It's  not clear to me which is the lesser of the two evils: to abandon any hope of trying to explain the smichus ha'parshiyos between all the mitzvos listed in our parsha and just accept that it is a jumble of different ideas, or to risk trying to make connections at the cost of the explanation being forced and unconvincing.  Ibn Ezra 24:6 for one attempts to link together an extended series of mitzvos and parshiyos in the sidra.  Even if the attempt to link everything together with a common theme fails, that does not mean there is no value in thinking about connections between isolated links in the chain.  Not much time to write this week (and I skipped last week too, so my son told me I have to write something), so I want to just look at one example:

כִּֽי־יִקַּ֥ח אִישׁ֙ אִשָּׁ֣ה חֲדָשָׁ֔ה לֹ֤א יֵצֵא֙ בַּצָּבָ֔א וְלֹא־יַעֲבֹ֥ר עָלָ֖יו לְכׇל־דָּבָ֑ר נָקִ֞י יִהְיֶ֤ה לְבֵיתוֹ֙ שָׁנָ֣ה אֶחָ֔ת וְשִׂמַּ֖ח אֶת־אִשְׁתּ֥וֹ אֲשֶׁר־לָקָֽח׃

לֹא־יַחֲבֹ֥ל רֵחַ֖יִם וָרָ֑כֶב כִּי־נֶ֖פֶשׁ ה֥וּא חֹבֵֽל׃

What's the connection between the newly married husband being freed from army service and the prohibition of taking a millstone as collateral for a loan?

Netziv explains that people are often faced with competing obligations.  A man has a duty to server his country, but he also has a duty to his wife.  The Torah here tells us that during shanah rishona, the duty to society, as important as it is, is set aside because it would infringe too greatly on the home.  So too, while the Torah allows a lender to take security for a loan and guarantee his shibud on a debtor, if that infringes on the debtor to the point of robbing him of his living things have gone too far.

This Netziv speaks to modern life.  You are sitting and trying to learn, or trying to talk to your wife --suddenly you hear that annoying "ping ping" of your phone telling you another message has arrived.  Remember the good ol days when all we had to worry about was talking in shul an not a cacophony of electronic noise?  Society -- our jobs, etc. -- has a right to make demands on our life, but there has to be a balance.  Sometimes the intrusion is too much and has gone too far. 

Meshech Chochma offers another explanation for the smichus haparshiyos based on shitas haRambam that just like there is an issur of the lender taking the millstone even if the debtor voluntarily surrenders it, so too the husband may not go out to war even if his wife voluntarily allows him to do so. Why not?  If she doesn't care, why can't he go?  I think the answer is that the tachlis of the mitzvah is not to be home because your wife needs you around, but rather to home because you need to be around your wife.  Even if she allows it, the new husband should feel that he can't go and can't leave his bride.

2) On a completely different note, I wanted to share a tremendous vort on this pasuk from the Mishnas Sachir.  The pasuk starts "ki yikach isha..."  Why does it need to echo the same idea in the closing, "...ishto asher lakach?"

Every Friday night we sing eishes chayil.  It's nice to think of your wife when you sing it, but Chazal tell us that the chapter is really speaking about Torah.  "Yom chasunaso," the Mishna is Ta'anis tells us, is mattan Torah.  Each of us had a bride before we every got married -- we are married to Torah. 

When a couple gets married there are all kinds of details that need to be taken care of.  They need an apartment, they need furniture, they need pots and pans, and everything else to set up a house.  It's hard.  But there is something even harder than putting all that together -- what's even harder is filling your new home with ruchniyus. 

The Torah tells us, therefore, that when a person takes a new wife -- in addition to his "old" wife of Torah that he has been married to at Har Sinai -- he needs to set aside a whole year.   The truth is that the job takes a lifetime, but at least for one year a person needs to concentrate and dedicate himself to building his new home with ruchniyus.  "...V'simach es ishto" -- because if he does that with his new wife, than "ishto," his wife of Torah, his wife from Har Sinai, will share in his rejoicing as well.  And that's the most important simcha of all.

be careful with your shabbos candles

After telling us to destroy the altars and asheirot of idolaters and obliterate any trace of avodah zarah, "v'ibadtem es shemam min ha'makom ha'hu," the Torah tells us not to do the same to Hashem, "lo ta'asun kein l'Hashem Elokeichem." (12:4)

It sounds strange -- we need to be told not to go into the mikdash and start smashing things?!

Rashi explains in his first pshat that "lo ta'asun kein" is not speaking about the act of destroying things, but is a continuation of the earlier pasuk which describes the many places in which idolatry was worshipped and needs to be rooted out from -- on the mountains, in the valleys, across the fruited plains (whatever).  Don't worship G-d like that, the Torah tells us.  There is one central place of worship -- a beis ha'mikdash. 

Sefas Emes suggests that "lo ta'asun kein" is a continuation of the end of the pasuk, "v'ibadtem is shemam."  When avodah zarah is destroyed, it is gone and forgotten.  Does anyone worship Zeus on Mt Olympus any more?  There are a lot of crazy people in NY, but I have never heard of anyone who carves little statutes out of wood or stone and then starts bowing down to them.  The avodah zarah is gone and no one even cares.  Klal Yisrael is not like that.  "Lo ta'asun kein" is followed by "...l'shichno tidrishu u'basa shama."  Sefas Emes writes that the pasuk is not talking about when we have a mikdash, when we are living in peace in our land.  It is talking about after the churban, after we have experienced destruction.  We don't forget.  There is no "ibud shemam" by us.  "Im eshkacheich Yerushalayim tishkach y'mini."  We long for the mikdash, we long for avodah.

Rashi has a second pshat in which he explains that the Torah is warning not to do aveiros that will cause the mikdash to be destroyed.

R' Sorotzkin in his Oznayim laTorah asks: the Torah in so many places warns not to do avodah zarah, not to do aveiros chamuros.  These crimes have severe punishments and penalties.  If that's not enough to stop people from violating those issurim, how is telling them that it will cause churban ha'bayis going to make a difference?

Just posted on hebrewbooks.org is a sefer called L'Ma'alah l'Maskil by R' Avraham Yitzchak Kook (the contemporary Rosh Yeshiva in Rechovot).  He relates (p.491-492) that there was a certain R' Mordechai Weinstein who was zocheh to be meshamesh the Chofetz Chaim and who later came to live in Bnei Brak.  R' Mordechai's "thing" was kedushas Shabbos.  One day he hung up fliers in the Lederman shul reminding people to tell their wives to light neiros Shabbos early because otherwise they do not get credit for lighting Shabbos candles and they violate Shabbos.  Apparently in Bnei Brak people are medayek even in the shul announcements.  People came over and asked a kasea: obviously chilul Shabbos is far more severe than missing lighting Shabbos candles.  Why on the sign did R' Mordechai first warn that the women who lit late would not get credit for lighting, and only after that mention chilul Shabbos?

R' Mordechai answered that he had a kabbalah for that specific "nusach" for his sign from the Chofetz Chaim himself years ago.  And he had asked the Chofetz Chaim the same kashe everyone was asking him.  The Chofetz Chaim answered that to the simple, pious women, it was unthinkable to have Shabbos without Shabbos candles.  They did not know from 39 melachos, from zmanin -- they knew from Shabbos lights.  So you have to speak their language.  First, you have to explain that lighting after the zman was not lighting -- it was as good as no Shabbos candles.  After that, after you have their attention, you can mention by-the-way, it's also chilul Shabbos.

To a Jew living b'zman ha'bays, the mikdash was his Shabbos candles.  A Jew might do aveiros galore, but it would have been inconceivable to him for there not be avodah in the mikdash.  You have b'zman ha'zeh, to use R' Sorotzkin's example, Jews who are mechelel everything under the sun, but then they have a baby boy and suddenly want a traditional bris milah (unfortunately even this is growing less common).  This attachment to the mitzvah does not come from logic; it comes from some deep vestigial connection within the Jewish heart and soul. 

The Torah therefore warns that issurim would inevitably take away the mikdash.

I hate to end on a negative note, so let me just throw in a Chasam Sofer: "l'shichno tidrishu v'basa shama," he writes, is a guarantee.  If we are doresh the makom haShechina, then the result will be "u'basa shama," we will be zocheh to get there. 

So we have our work cut out for us. 

 

the bridge between rugalach and the mikdash

Chazon Ish (28:8) rejects the view of the Maadanei Y"T that the mitzvah of birchas ha'mazon was only given in year 40 when Klal Yisrael was in Eiver haYarden, which is the setting of our parsha where the mitzvah appears.  All mitzvos, writes the C.I., were given at Sinai (see Chagigah 6).  The details may be recorded in a different context, but that has nothing to do with when the mitzvah was given.

I am surprised that the C.I. does not cite Ramban's introduction to sefer Devarim where Ramban writes explicitly that there are no new mitzvos in our sefer. 

Ramban asks on himself: but there are 70+ mitzvos that in fact are first recorded in sefer Devarim? 

Ramban offers two answers: 1) these new mitzvos only apply in Eretz Yisrael, so Moshe had no need to teach them earlier; 2) these were uncommon mitzvos that might not have come up earlier.

Neither of these two reasons seem relevant to birchas ha'mazon which 1) must be done in all locations 2) and comes up as frequently as we eat.  The question that therefore begs itself is why Moshe waited to command or teach the mitzvah until now.

(One might have thought that eating the mon was not a satisfying meal -- va'yincha va'yarivecha"-- and therefore there was never an opportunity of "v'achalta v'savata" that required benching in the midbar.  The gemara (Brachos 48), however, writes that Moshe instituted the text of the first bracha of birchas ha'mazon on the mon [see R' Shteinman's Ayeles haShachar].)

I would suggest that contrary to what we learned in elementary school, birchas ha'mazon is not a thank you to G-d for our food.  It is a thank you for Eretz Yisrael.  The pasuk does not say, "v'achalta v'savata u'beirachta... al ha'ochel hatovah."  It says "...u'beirachta al ha'aretz ha'tovah."  (See Ramban!)  In the bracha of bareich aleinu, according to nusach haGR"A (see post here) we say "v'sabeinu m'tuvah" because even though you might live in America, all of our sustenance and food and parnasa comes into the world only via the brachos Hashem bestows upon Eretz Yisrael.

The Netziv in Bamidbar (20:13) has a yesod that may help us as well.  The mitzvah of tefilah, which according to the Rambam is a mitzvah d'oraysa, also only first appears in our parsha as well.  Why did Moshe not teach this mitzvah earlier -- did not one daven in the midbar?

The Netziv (while not asking the question in that way) writes that in the midbar, Klal Yisrael was sustained by miracles -- the mon, the be'eir, etc.  Tefilah, says Netziv, does not apply when everything is running l'ma'alah min ha'tevah.  Tefilah is needed only when things are running b'derech ha'teva.  What makes a tree grow?  Sunlight, rain, Co2, and prayer.  Rashi writes (Braishis 2:5) that G-d withheld rain from creation until man was created and could pray.  Prayer is part of nature -- not the supernatural.

(Parenthetically, the Netziv there quotes a Midrash that says that Hashem values the lowest member of Klal Yisrael as much as Eliyahu haNavi.  It's a pli'ah -- you mean a guy who barely keeps mitzvos gets as much great as the greatest of nevi'im?!  Five years ago I posted R' Bloch's hesber, but now we have a Netziv: tefilah is the great equalizer.  My mitzvos are not Eliyahu's mitzvos; my learning is not his learning.  But when I cry to G-d in need, my tears are as valuable as Eliyahu's tears.  Human suffering is democratic -- the lowest of us cries out in pain to Hashem with as much feeling as the greatest among us.)

True, according to the Chazon Ish, birchas ha'mazon was said over the mon, but I think like tefilah, the mitzvah essentially relates to our derech ha'teva life -- what can be more natural than eating -- and challenges us to connect that to a higher value that merely stuffing our mouth.  The mitzvah may have been given earlier, but it is put in the context of our parsha because on the doorstep of Eretz Yisrael, when Klal Yisrael was about to truly become engaged in building a country, with all that entailed, all through derech ha'teva, the mitzvah took on its true meaning. 

R' Yehoshua Shapira, R"Y of Yeshivat Ramat Gan, writes on our parsha that if a person eats rugalach and recites al hamichyah but has no idea how and why suddenly because of rugalach he is speaking in the bracha about Yerushalayim, about the mikdash, "mechonach v'heichalach," then he has missed the essential meaning of what the bracha is all about. 

Our brachos and tefilos are there to help us bridge the gap between the world of rugalach and the world of spirituality.  In the midbar, when you live surrounded by miracles, you don't need that bridge.  When you the life that we must live, b'derech ha'teva, you do.