Parshas Toldos

When Eisav came in from the field tired and hungry, he agreed to sell the bechorah in exchange for lentil soup. He gave up something eternal and got something fleeting instead.

When we are tired, hungry or stressed, we don't have the clarity to make good decisions. We might say or do things we will later regret. It takes a lot of work to be able to maintain an inner sense of calm but when we can do that, we will be in complete control of ourselves and our reactions. We will be able to respond to people with calm logic instead of reacting with emotional intensity. 

May we be able to pay attention to our inner selves and regulate our emotions in a healthy way so we can deal with all situations calmly and with clarity!

Parshas Vayeira

Avraham Avinu invited three guests into his home, even though they didn't look like him and they were idol worshippers. His kindness extended to every type of person, no matter what they looked like on the outside.

Hachnosas Orchim sometimes transforms us into kinder, more sympathetic people. We treat strangers with more respect and tolerance than our own family. Perhaps this week, we can pretend our close family members are our guests and treat them with an extra level of care and consideration. We can be more giving, more patient and more understanding of those closest to us. Although it's easy to fall into the trap of habit and snap at the people who push our buttons, if we put in the effort to treat them with extra consideration, we can transform our relationships and make them stronger.

May we be able to act with forethought and respond to our close family members with a gentle touch, bringing more light and love into our homes!

Shmuly the Spring-A Story

Someone sent me this very inspiring, poignant and emotionally touching story and I want to share it with you. Although it is very long, it is worth the read.

Hi. My name is Shmuel, and I am 28 years old. 

Most of the people who know me simply call me “Shmuly.”

I am not used to telling stories. I’m the kind of guy who does better with action. That is why it took me some time to put together all the parts of my personal story and write it down so that I can share it with you.

My story began about eighteen years ago.
I was ten years old, a pretty regular kid, just like everyone else…except in one area. 
I had a really hard time sitting in one place for a prolonged period of time.

And when I say “time,” I don’t mean what you probably think. My concept of time is different than most people’s. “Too much time,” for me, means a few seconds.

Yeah, I’m a “spring,” if you will. 

If this would be today, I would surely get a diagnosis comprised of a string of initials (along with a pill or two), but in those days there weren’t that many interpretations, so the nickname given to me was short and friendly, “Shmuly the Spring.” 

Honestly, I didn’t mind. I knew that it was true, and I could actually relate to the imagery.

Baruch Hashem, I had no complaints. I had incredible rabbeim who didn’t make a big issue out of my hyperactivity. 

Everyone in my class was already used to the fact that Shmuly the Spring is the one who is sent to bring the rebbe coffee in middle of class, and other such jobs, basically keeping me busy. And truthfully, I liked the arrangement, too. 

I would sit in front of the rebbe and try hard to listen and understand what he was teaching. Then, when I couldn’t focus anymore (usually after a few minutes), I would look for something to do. At that point I would hear the rebbe’s voice calling to me, “Shmuly, please get us some more chalk.” I would happily get up and run to perform the chore.

That was basically what my life in school was like. 

One morning, as we waited for our rebbe to enter the classroom, the principal walked in instead. He stood behind the rebbe’s desk and asked for silence.

“I’m sorry to share this with you,” he said, “but your rebbe has suddenly fallen ill and had to undergo emergency surgery last night. He will not be coming back for the next few weeks.”

We were in shock. We loved our rebbe and were really worried about him.

The principal continued, “Now, boys, let’s say some Tehillim for his recovery.” We said some Tehillim with extra kavanah for our rebbe’s speedy recovery.

That day, the principal taught us, but the following day he walked into our classroom with a man we didn’t know. 

“Boys,” the principal said, “this is Rabbi Substitute. He is going to be your substitute rebbe until your regular rebbe gets better, be’ezras Hashem.”

Rabbi Substitute walked over to the rebbe’s desk, and the principal left the classroom.
I’m not sure what made me immediately realize that my life was not going to be easy with Rabbi Substitute. Maybe it was the stern look on his face, or the hoarse voice with which he addressed us, but something told me there was going to be trouble soon.
I was right. It was only a few minutes later when I sensed a heavy shadow over me. I looked up and found Rabbi Substitute staring angrily down at me through his somewhat-dirty glasses.

“What are you busy with over there?” he thundered. 

I dropped the beautiful paper airplane I had just completed. The stunning plane did not have a chance inside Rabbi Substitute’s clutched fist, and I felt my heart tearing inside me along with it. 

I found myself standing shamefacedly in the principal’s office.

After recess was over, I returned to the classroom. But this scenario repeated itself over and over again in different variations.
After a few days of mounting frustration on all sides, my parents were called to the school. “In my class, all students must learn,” Rabbi Substitute told them firmly. “What do you think he’s going to grow up to be like if he doesn’t use his brain?” He refused to allow me to perform the various tasks that had been my lifeline until then. 

Every day, I would be punished and sent out of the classroom in humiliation. I began to feel disappointed and disgusted with myself. I always knew that I was not exactly a typical child, I knew that I was better with my hands than with my head, but I always managed somehow, thanks the energy that Hashem endowed me with and the fact that I loved to help people.

For Rabbi Substitute, however, these qualities meant nothing.

One day, Rabbi Substitute decided to call an emergency meeting to discuss my problems. My parents and I were both called in for a long, painful lecture. I remember my father trying to say something like, “Our Shmuly has other qualities… Maybe his head is less at work but he has amazing hands…”, but Rabbi Substitute didn’t allow my father to say a word.

And here, I remember how Rabbi Substitute’s face reddened. He pointed a finger at me and shouted, “If you don’t start using your head, you’ll amount to nothing! Nothing!”

Then he added under his breath, “Good hands will make you a good plumber, nothing more.”

The days passed, somehow, and finally, finally, our regular rebbe recovered and returned to the classroom. I never saw Rabbi Substitute again.

With time, I even managed to forget his hurtful words. Most of the time. 

Sometimes, unexpectedly, I would hear his words playing in my head and shrink into myself with humiliation. When that happened, I would feel like an absolute nothing.

Is that all I could ever hope to amount to? A plumber? Could I really do nothing more? Was I truly worth nothing?!

I admit, though, that this did not happen often. Most of the time, I was busy performing the countless chores and tasks that my rabbeim came up with to keep me busy and confident. 

I grew up, finished cheder, and then yeshivah ketanah. I was accepted to a good yeshivah gedolah thanks to my many other talents. So maybe I was not the brightest boy in the class, but I had other things going for me. The many small jobs I did in yeshivah helped me tremendously. The yeshivah and summer camps were where I felt proud and happy.

When I started shidduchim, I knew more or less what kind of girl I wanted to marry. A short while later, I met my wife who wanted me just as I was.

We got married, and I began my married life in kollel. Of course, at the same time, I was searching for some action to fill up my day too; something that would keep me busy and allow me to feel good about myself. 

I found that in Israel’s medical emergency response team, a job that saves me from myself. I do many shifts, am always first at the scene and the last to leave it. 

Some people might make a face hearing that, but I love the drama and the action, and – more than anything else – the tremendous chessed that I can perform for people in the most critical moments of their lives. 

Slowly, I started climbing up the ranks. I did further training. At some point, MADA became my second home.

One night, I woke up to the sound of the dispatcher calling all nearby volunteers to rush to an emergency nearby. Apparently, someone had lost consciousness and needed help. 

The address was nowhere nearby, but for some reason I decided to rush to the scene anyway. I figured that there were not many volunteers in that area, and the late hour would make it even less likely that someone could get there quickly. MADA’s headquarters were also too far from the scene. 

I jumped into my car and quickly drove over to the address the dispatcher had announced. As soon as I arrived, I realized that I had indeed arrived first. I grabbed my first-aid kit and rushed up the stairs. The panicked voices and the light coming from the apartment led me directly to an elderly man lying on the living room floor. A woman stood next to him – his wife, I presumed – crying hysterically. 
I quickly began checking his vitals and performing CPR. Things were not looking good…

No pulse. No breathing. 

As I worked, a Hatzalah volunteer arrived at the scene and began working alongside me. 

“No pulse or breathing,” I reported to the station. “Send MICU urgently.” The Hatzalah volunteer and I continued working furiously. This guy doesn’t have much of a chance, I thought. Who knows how long he’s been lying like this, in this condition.
But I’m used to leaving my thoughts for my own pillow… for when I try to fall asleep at night. Right now, I had to focus on what I needed to do – and do it. 

The ambulance arrived and with it, more advanced equipment. The full team and I continued to do our best, but…nothing. The guy wouldn’t wake up. 

The team gave up, but I refused to. I continued to put in every bit of strength I could muster, without thinking. 

Yair, a fellow paramedic, placed his hand on my shoulder. His eyes were telling me, Forget it, this is a lost cause.

But I kept going. 

The other guys knew me already. They weren’t going to try explaining to me for the umpteenth time that I was too naïve.
I pushed. I pushed again.

And then suddenly I felt something change.
I checked carefully and began screaming like a madman, “There’s a pulse! There’s a pulse!”

The paramedics looked at the patient and immediately realized that I was right. They all began working feverishly again. 

Somehow, they managed to stabilize him and rushed him to the nearest hospital together with his tearful wife.

Honestly, I was very emotional as I watched them go. I’ve been in this field for years, but it is still rare to succeed in performing a successful resuscitation -  especially in such a case, where the man had been lying unconscious for so long.

I gathered my things and headed back home.

A month passed, and I nearly forgot the incident. One morning, my phone rang. 

“Hi, is this Shmuly, from MADA?”

“Yes, who am I speaking with?”

The young man on the other end of the line told me that he was this elderly man’s grandson. My thoughts went back to that fateful night, and I asked him with some hesitation, “How is he?” I wasn’t sure what I was going to hear. I knew that not many people survive after being deprived of oxygen for so long, and even those who do survive are generally badly crippled as a result. 

“You have no idea,” the grandson told me with obvious emotion. “You gave us our grandfather back!”

I was so moved that I could hardly get any words out of my mouth. 

The young man told me that they had been searching all week long for the phone number of the “angel who saved their grandfather” – that was how he described me. He told me that his grandfather had been discharged and is completely back to his usual self. “We would love to have you join us at the seudas hodaya that we are making in honor of this miracle!”

I could not refuse. I still remembered the address, so I just asked him for the date and time. 

On the day of the seudah, I came to the house again. The apartment was filled with family members and tables laden with cakes and candy. 

They all welcomed me with hugs and joyful greetings. I have never met these people before, but it seemed that to them I was like family. I was given a seat at the head of the table, next to a dignified-looking man with a white beard.

His face looked familiar…but now I was seeing his face with a healthy coloring.

When he saw me, he stood up and enveloped me in a warm hug. I felt his tears wetting my shoulder, and then my own tears coursing down my cheeks.

He murmured words of thanks, and it was obvious that he was very, very emotional. 
I myself was feeling my own storm of emotions – and not only because of the opportunity I had been given to save another man’s life. 

With shocking clarity, I suddenly realized that this man who was now looking at me with such gratitude-filled eyes was none other than my childhood teacher, Rabbi Substitute. It must have been his voice that made all the memories surface, but I had no doubt about it. I gently asked him about his life and where he was from. Yes, it was him…

He did not seem to recognize me, but that was understandable. Unlike him, my own appearance had changed drastically since I was ten years old… 

I was difficult for me to contain myself. I felt an unexplainable urge to tell him who I was.

I asked one of his sons, who was sitting next to me, to allow me to speak to his father privately. He looked at me in surprise, but apparently, my status as the “savior” helped ward off questions. He stood up and whispered into his father’s ear. 

I saw Rabbi Substitute’s eyes looking at me, and then his head nodding in agreement.
We were led to a side room. After we both settled on the day bed in the room and the door closed behind us, I burst into uncontrollable tears.

I had planned to talk to him, but the wave of emotions was stronger than me. I myself had not realized, until that moment, just how deeply he had hurt me. 

I felt his hands on my head, and then heard his soothing words trying to calm me. He obviously could not understand what was happening to me.

After I calmed down somewhat, I raised red-rimmed eyes and began to tell him who I was. It took a few moments for him to recall. “You’re Shmuly?” he pointed a shaking finger at me. I saw understanding dawn, and his face suddenly became very white. 

I felt a pang of panic. I had already seen his face looking like that. Slowly, however, his color returned. And then it was his turn to cry.

We did not exchange more than a few words, but to me it seemed like we had spent hours in deep conversation. 
We simply didn’t need any words. The tears said everything. The deep hurt…the frustration and the pain…the insidious effect of his behavior toward me in the classroom… and also, his regret, his remorse…

He hugged me again, and I returned the hug, feeling forgiveness wash over me. A huge rock was lifted from my chest.

“And I told you that you’ll amount to nothing,” he whispered, his voice filled with indescribable regret.

He asked for my forgiveness again and again, and I told him I was fully mochel. 

We walked back into the living room, both of us with red-rimmed eyes and blotchy faces. People looked at us in bewilderment. 
When Rabbi Substitute reached his seat, he motioned for me to sit on the adjacent chair, but he himself remained standing. He told everyone that he wanted to say a few words. Within seconds, everyone fell silent. It was clear that they all wanted to know what had happened.

Rabbi Substitute first began by praising me for saving his life. He especially emphasized the illogical efforts I had put in despite the fact that realistically, there was no longer any hope. He focused on the main point, in his opinion, which was that I worked against all odds and used my heart, not my head. 

Then he told everyone who I was and where we had first met. 

He told them everything. He repeated the words he had used then, at the fateful meeting with my parents, and the things he said about me in front of the entire class. At this point, people were crying unabashedly. In a broken voice he turned to me and asked for my forgiveness again. 

I could not speak. I only nodded my consent, my own throat choked with tears. 

Then, Rabbi Substitute ended in a heartfelt statement. “Twenty years ago, I told you that you do not use your head. Yet what saved me now was precisely the fact that you did not follow your head – but your heart. Years ago, I thought you had a problem and were not thinking enough. Now I know that what you have is actually a huge heart.”

He hugged me again, and I returned the hug.

That is my story. 

It was not easy for me to write it all. You must have realized by now that I am not the sort of person who can easily sit and write things down. But I did it anyway, because I want you to always remember:

There are some kids who have a great head.

There are kids who have a great heart.

And they are all Hashem’s children.

Parshas Pinchas

Hashem told Moshe Rabbeinu to climb to the top of Har Ha'avarim so he could see Eretz Yisroel before he died. His tefillah to go into EY had not been answered positively, but he did get to see the land.

In life, we daven for many things. Sometimes we see answers clearly, and things turn out exactly the way we were hoping for. Other times, it's less clear. We need to remember that Hashem hears every tefillah and listens to every cry for help. No matter what the result of our tefillah seems to be, Hashem treasures every one and at times saves that tefillah for a later date when we will need those zechusim.

May we be able to turn to Hashem whenever we need Him and stay strong in our emunah that every tefillah has a purpose and is valuable!

Winter-A Poem

I wrote this a year ago and can appreciate the message even more as I continue to live and experience the truth of what I wrote. May you all be able to see growth and change as you go through the seasons of the year and the seasons of life.

Winter's here
Trees are bare
'cept for some snow
Who would know
What's going on beneath the ground
Under the snow covered mound
Of dirt
Of grass
Of concrete for some
So much
Going on
Beneath the surface
So much
Happening
Underground
But we can't see it.
Just because we can't see it
Doesn't mean it isn't happening
So much growth
So much change
Down there
Even though
Up here
The trees remain bare
The plants aren't there
No flowers to behold
Just emptiness.
But then...
Spring comes!
The sun begins to shine
The leaves begin to rustle
The plants
And fruit
And flowers
Begin to blossom
To grow
To add color
And light
Make bright
Our days
Our time
Outdoors
How?
How did that all happen?
So quickly
Seemingly
It's because
When we couldn't see
Beneath the surface
So much was happening
Underneath the surface
We just don't have
The vision
To see it.
Life brings with it
Many seasons
And during the winter
When things are hard
Dark
And cold
Harsh
Difficult
Sometimes seemingly
Unbearable
We must remember
We must internalize
We must believe
That there is something
Something very deep
Something very profound
Going on
Beneath the surface
It's so big
Yet so tiny
So...precious
Yet so hard to grasp
That we cannot even see it
We cannot even notice it
During the harsh winter
But then...
When Spring arrives
It's suddenly so clear!
It's so...there!
You can't even miss it if you tried
It stares you in the face
The growth
The change
The color
The depth
The newness
It's a whole different creation
WE become different
WE become new
WE change
WE grow
With a depth
With a maturity
With a resilience
With strength
With character
All because of
The winter
All because of
The darkness
All because of
The hard times
When we couldn't see
We were in so much pain
We couldn't even notice
The tiny changes
But once they happened
Little changes grew
Little steps became a staircase
Climbing up
Reaching up
Forever higher.
All during the cold, harsh winter
When Spring arrives
We can finally see
The beauty
The color
Of our blossoming character.
Stay strong.
Hold on through the cold.
Hold on when it's dark.
Hold on when it's so tough.
You will grow.
You will blossom.
You will change.
And when the Spring comes
You'll finally
Be able
To see it
Yourself.

Winter-A Poem

Winter's here
Trees are bare
'cept for some snow
Who would know
What's going on beneath the ground
Under the snow covered mound
Of dirt
Of grass
Of concrete for some
So much
Going on
Beneath the surface
So much
Happening
Underground
But we can't see it.
Just because we can't see it
Doesn't mean it isn't happening
So much growth
So much change
Down there
Even though
Up here
The trees remain bare
The plants aren't there
No flowers to behold
Just emptiness.
But then...
Spring comes!
The sun begins to shine
The leaves begin to rustle
The plants
And fruit
And flowers
Begin to blossom
To grow
To add color
And light
Make bright
Our days
Our time
Outdoors
How?
How did that all happen?
So quickly
Seemingly
It's because
When we couldn't see
Beneath the surface
So much was happening
Underneath the surface
We just don't have
The vision
To see it.
Life brings with it
Many seasons
And during the winter
When things are hard
Dark
And cold
Harsh
Difficult
Sometimes seemingly
Unbearable
We must remember
We must internalize
We must believe
That there is something
Something very deep
Something very profound
Going on
Beneath the surface
It's so big
Yet so tiny
So...precious
Yet so hard to grasp
That we cannot even see it
We cannot even notice it
During the harsh winter
But then...
When Spring arrives
It's suddenly so clear!
It's so...there!
You can't even miss it if you tried
It stares you in the face
The growth
The change
The color
The depth
The newness
It's a whole different creation
WE become different
WE become new
WE change
WE grow
With a depth
With a maturity
With a resilience
With strength
With character
All because of
The winter
All because of
The darkness
All because of
The hard times
When we couldn't see
We were in so much pain
We couldn't even notice
The tiny changes
But once they happened
Little changes grew
Little steps became a staircase
Climbing up
Reaching up
Forever higher.
All during the cold, harsh winter
When Spring arrives
We can finally see
The beauty
The color
Of our blossoming character.
Stay strong.
Hold on through the cold.
Hold on when it's dark.
Hold on when it's so tough.
You will grow.
You will blossom.
You will change.
And when the Spring comes
You'll finally
Be able
To see it
Yourself.

Letting Go

Tomorrow is a big day
It's the first day
Of a new school year
For my big boy
Oh boy!
I'm nervous
For him
He's excited
New knapsack
All packed
Sharpened pencils
Nice and neat
How sweet
To see
His cute little face
Eager to start
A new year
In yeshiva
As a big boy
But I'm nervous
A new year
A new start
A new rebbe
How will it go?
I know
I need to let go
Of my worries
Of my fears
He's prepared
There's nothing more
I can do
He can do
It's not in my hands
But...I so much want
It to be a good year
A productive year
A year
Where
He accomplishes
Learns
And grows
So much
There's so much
That is at stake here
He's a good kid
Eager to please
But he's also smart
Too smart, sometimes
And I worry
Will his rebbe be smarter?
Will he know what to do?
Will he be able to 
React appropriately
When my son 
Tests his boundaries?
Will he know
How to handle
The trouble
The ideas 
The mischief
My son might come up with?
He's a good kid
And he's eager to please
But he's smart, my son
Too smart, sometimes
And his brain works
So quickly
That before you blink
He can be on the brink
Of another ohmygosh moment
Heart stopping
For me
Feet climbing
For him
He's so high up
I can't figure out how he got there
But he knows
How to get down
He's smart enough
Too figure out the rungs
Or cracks
Or holes
On the wall
On the gate
On top of that garage
And he'll climb
Or jump
Or slide
Right down
It's fun for him
Not for me
So I get nervous
For him.
He has so much potential
He can reach so high
He can soar
He can fly
Rebbe...?
Will you try
Too work with him?
Too keep him
Stimulated
Instead of frustrated?
Busy doing
Instead of bored?
Looking for something to do?
He experienced both
And I'm telling you
He wants to please
I want to feel at ease
For tomorrow
For the big day
I want him to come home and say
How great it was
How much he loves his rebbe
How excited he is for tomorrow
Like he did last year
Every single day.
I pray
Today
And every day
That the Torah should be sweet
In his mouth
Like it is now
That he should love to learn
To acquire
To absorb
And take in
Every lesson
Every word.
There is so much in your hands,
Dear rebbe
But I need to remember
Whose Hands
This really is in
It's not in my hands
(And so I daven)
It's not in my big boy's hands
(Even though those hands can
Keep quite busy!)
It's not even in
The rebbe's hands
(As much as he tries
To make each lesson come alive)
It's in the Hands of
Hashem above
And so
I send up
Another prayer
And another
I don't stop davening
And hoping
And davening some more
As I shed a tear
For a productive year.
I am nervous
I am scared
I am worried
But I do know
That I need to let go
So I take a deep breath
Inhale and internalize
Exhale and let go
And inhale once again
To let that emunah seep into me
And exhale once more
So I can truly let go.

Traffic

I posted this before and wanted to share the message with you again. This article has since been published but for those who have never read it and even for those who have seen it before, reading it again will give you chizuk.

Have you ever sat in bumper to bumper traffic on a highway, watching the cars on the other side breeze past you? They're all driving so fast while you're stuck waiting for the car ahead of you to move up a bit...

You wish you were on the other side too, moving quickly like all those lucky cars. But you know that there is no use in wishing, no point in being jealous. Because if you'd be on the other side, you wouldn't reach your destination. You just took a big trip and you want to get back home. For you, that is the wrong side of the highway; taking it would bring you right back where you came from. And that's not exactly where you want to go.

Life.

Life has been compared to many different thing by many bright and intellectual people.

This time, I'm using the comparison of the highway of life.

Sometimes in life, you wish you could take the easier, faster route. You wish it wouldn't take so long for the changes you want to just...happen.

You're waiting, hoping (and hopefully praying) for your yeshuah to come.

But you feel like you are sitting in traffic...and nothing is moving, nothing is changing.

You don't see any progress.

From time to time, the car ahead of you moves, just a few inches or maybe a few feet.

But then you're stuck again...stuck in the traffic on your highway of life.

You look to the other side of the road and you see so many cars, zooming by...and you eye them with a twinge of jealousy. You wish you could also go for a smooth, quick ride and arrive at your destination. But you know, deep down, that if you were to travel on the other side of the road, you would not reach the place you hope for.

But...that doesn't stop you from looking at those cars, those people, with a wishful eye, a feeling of yearning in your heart.

Eventually, there will be a point where the traffic will clear. You will make it through this challenge, as long as you keep driving, as long as you keep moving...and as long as you never give up hope.

You will get to where you want to. You will reach your destination. Keep your eyes on the goal, even as you continue to be human and glance at the other side of the highway from time to time.

Keep hoping for that clear path, when the obstacles that have been in your way are removed and you could zoom forward...and achieve that which you have been waiting for. Lift your eyes to the heavens and daven. Daven to Hashem to help you make it through your traffic jam intact, and become a better person, a stronger person.

May you be able to go through the highway of your life with the right attitude, knowing that no matter what kind of traffic jam you are stuck in, Hashem will clear the road for you one day...and you will get what you have been waiting for!

Never Too Late

I posted this two years ago. It's a long one-but it is so powerful and inspiring and so worth the read and the message!

Chazzal teach us that Chizkiyahu Melech Yehudah was amongst the greatest leaders of our people. He enacted laws that would cultivate Gedolim and Talmidei Chachomim in all of Klal Yisroel and our people flourished under his reign. Yet, Chizkiyahu saw with prophecy that he was destined to have a child who would be as wicked as he was righteous. He was thus afraid to produce a child. However, he was advised not to engage in influencing and tampering with the destiny and master plan of Hakadosh Baruch Hu. It was not his 'cheshbon' to influence the heavenly ordinances.

He understood the message and bore this child whom he named Menashe. Sure enough, Menashe grew up to be one of the most wicked people in our history. Where his Father had promoted spirituality, Menashe stifled it. Under his reign, our leaders were killed and their "blood flowed through the streets". Torah learning was forbidden and idolatry carried the day. Chazzal tell that Menashe was ultimately captured by opposing forces and thrown into a cauldron of burning water. As he lay trapped in the water with his flesh burning off his body, the Gemorah says that he began to call out to all of his idols by name, imploring them to save him from his predicament! He begged this idol, the other idol etc. Of course, none of these idols whom he had worshipped his entire life, came to help him in his time of need! Finally, the Gemorah relates that when Menashe was at the end of his rope, so to speak, he called out to Hakadosh Baruch Hu with the following proposal:

He said "Hashem, please help save me from my predicament - for if you do not, then "kol anpin shavim" - You are all the same! Meaning; - Menashe was telling the Ribbono Shel Olam - "look, I called out to all of my Idols and they could not help me. Now I am calling out to you. If you cannot help me either, then you are just like them; you are all the same!

The Gemorah relates that the Angels quickly intervened and closed the Sharei Shamayim (Gates of Heaven) so that the pleas of this Rasha would not reach the Kisei Hakavod! What happened next is a complete mystery. Hakadosh Baruch Hu "drilled a small hole" in his heavens to allow the voice of the dying Menashe to come up to his throne and he proceeded to save Menashe's life in a most miraculous way (as the Gemorah tells).

This story is a complete mystery!

For one thing, why did Hashem decide to save the life of this Rasha - who had spent his entire life rejecting Hakadosh Baruch Hu while attempting to wipe out all vestiges of spirituality from our people? Moreover, when Menashe finally did reach out to Hashem, look at the seeming Chutzpah with which he approached this! He actually makes conditions with Hashem! He equates Hashem with his worthless idols and says that If Hashem doesn't help him, then he is the same as the rest of those idols!! The sheer chutzpa of this statement! Of course the idols were not in a position to save him! They cannot! However, if Hashem were not to save him, it would be completely justified...after all, he didn't deserve it!

There are really two puzzling questions here

1. Why did Hashem save him?
2. What was the meaning behind Menashes cryptic and seemingly brazen plea to Hashem?

The answer to these questions is incredibly beautiful and a lesson for all of us.

Menashe's plea to Hashem was beautiful and profound in its depth. He was actually telling Hakadosh Baruch Hu the following:

"Look, I know what a Rasha I have been all of my life and that I am completely unworthy of your salvation. However, my Father (Chizkiyahu) always taught me as a child, that our Father in heaven displays kindness without boundaries or limitations. I was taught that your mercy for your children is without borders and not impeded by and contained within the framework of any yardstick or measure. Therefore, if you do not save me now in my time of need and despair, this would be an indication that I have simply strayed too far and that I am beyond salvation. This would mean that it is actually possible for a human being on this Earth to sin so badly, that he would actually place himself beyond the scope of your mercy. This means by extension, that your mercy is finite; that it is limited by the constraints of finite boundaries. If this is the case, then you are not the Hashem I was taught about in my youth!!

Upon hearing his pleas, the Malachei Hashareis moved quickly to block his prayers from advancing to the Kisei Hakavod. However, Hashem destined otherwise. Hashem created an opening for Menashe's tefillos to reach his heavenly throne and he actually granted him his request and saved his life!

Why?

Hashem wanted to make an example of Menashe and to teach all future generations that it is never "too late" to do Teshuva and to repent. Indeed, there is no such thing as a Jew straying too far from the fold...there is no such thing as Hashems' patience and mercy being overridden by the sins of a Jew.

No Jew is ever beyond salvation, because G-Ds' mercy and patience is without boundaries or limitations!

Indeed, the lesson we take from Menashe ben Chizkiyahu Melech Yehudah, is both profound and timely. It is never too late for a Jew to do Teshuva and come closer to Borei Olam!

Heard From Rav Shimshon Pincus zt"l; OhrShimshon.com