ב''ה

SERMON RESOURCE FOR SHLUCHIM

DISTRIBUTION DATE:

THURSDAY , AUGUST 24 2017 – 2 ELUL 5777 PARSHAS SHOFTIM

SERMON TITLE:

Staying True to Life’s Mission

Shoftim

Staying True to Life’s Mission

Good Shabbos!

In 2016, the famous Jewish actor passed away. He was a well-known comic who starred in many films.

One of Gene Wilder’s biggest hits was a late-70s production called The Frisco Kid. It’s the silly story of the village shlepper in a Polish shtetl in 1850 getting sent to S. Francisco, California to serve as the of the city’s Jewish community only because he spoke English.

In the movie, the president of Frisco’s Jewish community mails a written request to the Chief Rabbi of Poland, asking for a rabbi—and pledging that the candidate sent will be given his daughter as a wife.

So Avraham Belinsky, travels by ship to Philadelphia, where he tries to find transportation to S. Francisco. Nobody in Poland told him that he’d have to cross an entire continent! On the contrary—back in his home country, he was told that S. Francisco was “right next to New York.”

So Mr. Belinsky, as a religious Jew played masterfully and authentically by Mr. Wilder, is also travelling with a small sefer , a Torah scroll, which is intended for the S. Francisco congregation’s .

He’s a sweet, innocent and trusting guy—not to mention a bit of a shlemiel. So early on in the film, he gets scammed by highway robbers whose false tale of desperation fools him into parting with his money. He shortly ends up literally thrown off the wagon that he thought would carry him all way west, along with all of his belongings, including the Torah scroll—which he picks up from the dirt road and kisses and holds with all due reverence.

Still, being an innocent and honest soul, he continues west by foot, determined to complete his mission. A short time later, in a hilarious scene, he spots what look like a group of Chasidic walking through a field in front of him a short distance away. He runs towards them, calling out in , “Lantzman! Lantzman!” (That’s Yiddish for “countryman,” meaning, “Familiar Jewish person who comes from where I come from!”) He runs up to these bearded men in dark hats and coats and starts excitedly telling 2 them in Yiddish everything that happened—how he got robbed and beaten and dumped on the road. Of course, they don’t understand him because… they’re Amish. But they help him with some money and set him back on the road.

Later, as he tries to spear fish in a knee-deep creek with a branch, he encounters a lone outlaw (played by , who by the way is also Jewish) and gunslinger who proceeds to literally blow a few trout out of the water for him.

The bandit is a dangerous man, but Avraham’s good heart wins him over with his magical innocence and sincere personality, and the two become partners as the bandit helps his foolish new friend survive the challenges of the desert.

A little later on the way, they run into every Wild West cowboy’s nightmare: Indians! The armed native warriors capture them, tie them up to stakes, and take away Avraham’s Torah scroll. When the Indians see that he has no gun, no knife, and is even willing to be burned alive so long as they don’t harm his Torah scroll, they suddenly respect him and release him—and ask him to pray for them for rain. Hilarity ensues again as you see American Indians doing their rain dance to a Yiddish folk tune. (And, of course, it rains cats and dogs.)

But throughout their journey to California, along the entire way, they encounter all kinds of challenges and obstacles—but Avraham stays true to his faith. He won’t ride a horse on Shabbos. He won’t derive any benefit from the money that the bandit steals as he robs banks on their way across America. Despite it all, one thing stays clear: Avraham Belinsky doesn’t lose his bearings. He knows he’s got a mission in life—namely, to get to the West Coast and bring a Torah scroll to a Jewish community and become its rabbi. And it’s that mission that gives him the strength to travel day and night, through the winter mountains and the summer deserts, to realize his charge and calling in life. (And, of course, not to ruin the ending, but they finally get to S. Francisco, where he meets the community and marries the president’s daughter.)

In a certain way, The Frisco Kid reminds me of the Rebbe’s shluchim, who were sent to make the spiritual wastelands of the world bloom in every forgotten corner of the world.

And that brings us to this week’s Torah portion, of course.

In the Parshah of Shoftim, we learn about the Torah’s laws of war. The Torah states, “When you go out to battle against your enemies,” then “the officers shall speak to the nation, saying, ‘Whichever man has built a house but has not dedicated it, let him go and return to his house; he may die in battle and another man shall dedicate it.’ ” The Torah continues, “Whichever man has planted a vineyard but did not sanctify it, let him go and return to his house… Whichever man has betrothed a woman but has not taken her, let him go and return to his house…” And the Torah ends, “And the officers shall additionally say, ‘Whichever man is fearful and soft-hearted shall go and return to his house and not melt his brothers’ heart like his own…” (Devarim 20:1-8).

So we have two categories here.

The second category is the man afraid of war. He is discharged for the good of the army. Why? Because fear is contagious—and if he’s afraid, he’ll scare all the soldiers 3 around him, too and hurt the army’s morale. So it’s for the benefit of victory that he’s discharged.

But what about the first category? Why does the Torah tell us that the soldier who built a house but didn’t “dedicate” it—meaning, didn’t actually move in and live in it—must go home? Same thing for the soldier who planted a vineyard, but it’s too soon for anything to have grown or otherwise give him benefit? What’s the rush to discharge these soldiers?

To put it in modern terms, in today’s Israel Defense Forces (IDF), the rule is that soldiers who are only children to their parents, or children of families that have lost other children, cannot serve in combat positions. Why that’s so is obvious—no explanation is needed for why such soldiers are exempt from actual combat duties.

But when it comes to houses and vineyards and brides, why is it Torah law that such soldiers get discharged? Why is it not terrible for a married man to die in battle, but if he’s only engaged, then it’s a problem? And besides, where did the Torah get these three categories? Why is it specifically these that get soldiers discharged?

Perhaps we can say that these three categories were taught to us by G-d Himself way back at the Creation of the Universe.

See, the very first thing that G-d did is create the universe—He “built a house”: “In the beginning, G-d created the heavens and the earth.”

Then, He “planted a vineyard”: “And the L-rd G-d planted a garden in Eden”—and, according to the Midrash, the Tree of Knowledge from which Adam ate was actually not a physical tree at all but rather, a grapevine.

G-d then “betrothed a woman”—meaning, He invited someone into His house: “And the L-rd G-d took Adam and placed him in the Garden of Eden, to work it and to protect it.” And He commanded Adam and Eve, “Be fruitful and multiply, and fill the earth and conquer it.”

Similarly with Man, who is “created in the Image of G-d,” has the same mission and purpose as G-d Himself. It is incumbent on Man to build a house, plant a vineyard and marry a woman, and only then has he fulfilled his mission on earth—because it is these three things that guarantee that a man’s legacy will continue to bear fruit after he dies.

And so whenever a person does not complete these three tasks, he’s still not fit to go out into battle—because before a man goes out to defend the Jewish Nation’s eternity, he must first defend his own eternity. He has to first do those that will eternalize him for all time—in particular, he has to get married and bring children into the world.

As the Sages in the Talmud (Tractate Sotah 44a) tell us, the Torah lists these three things in their specific order so as to teach us the proper way in life—that a man should first build a house, then plant a vineyard, and then marry a woman.

And in truth, when we look into it, we discover that someone who busies himself with building a house and planting a vineyard actually is considered drafted—because 4 house-building and vineyard-planting is sacred work that is no less important to the world than going out to war itself.

Because a man who builds a house, plants a vineyard and marries a woman is involved in the greatest battle in the war to maintain our world as a whole and the Jewish Nation in particular. And so those things come before anything else.

So what is the lesson for us, my friends? After all, many of us here take such “ordinary” things for granted; many of us here already have built homes, planted vineyards and gotten married, literally if not figuratively. But the Midrash tells us, “G-d desired a dwelling place in the lower realms”—G-d wants us to make a House for him in this world, a place where He can feel comfortable, a universe in which people known and recognize that there is an Owner to this House. And that can be achieved with even just one mitzvah.

But the Rebbe says that even that’s not enough—one must not just build a house for G-d in this universe, but one must also “plant a vineyard.” One must make a “garden” for G-d out of this universe—Basi L’Gani, “I came into My garden.”

Now, the advantage of a garden over a house is that a house just stands there. It’s an inanimate object. It doesn’t grow, progress or change. Something you build, once you finish building it, stays exactly as it is.

That’s not the case with a garden, obviously—a place where trees grow and fruits are produced. In other words, a person must always remember that he can’t be satisfied with what he accomplished yesterday. Rather, he needs to always progress and produce fruits, meaning mitzvos. And just like we plant trees in a garden that can take many years until they produce fruits, so too must a Jew be prepared to invest work in G- d’s Garden that is this universe, even if he or she will not always see immediate results.

And then, we come to “betrothing a woman.” In spiritual terms, that means to share one’s spiritual house and spiritual vineyard with someone else—to share your Jewishness with someone else. (From Sichas Yud Shvat, 5732, Sichos Kodesh Vol. I, pg. 360 et al.)

This message is seen in the movie. Avraham Belinsky internalized that he was a soldier of G-d, with a mission not just to physically build his home and family, but also to share his authentic Judaism from Europe with the S Francisco community.

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