Caring for Another Yid: Yaakov's Brachos, Individual Avodah, and True Achdus

Topics

• Caring for Another Yid: Yaakov's Brachos and the Secret of Achdus
• Why Did Yaakov Publicly Rebuke Some Sons and Praise Others?
• A Bracha Means Knowing Both Your Strengths and Your Limitations
• Different Avodos Are Part of One Klal
• Purim, Diversity, and "Olamcha Tireh BeChayecha"
• "Bishvili Nivra HaOlam": A World That Is My Responsibility
• Different Faces, Different Minds—and the Same Klal
• Why Knowing Your Chesronos Is a Blessing
• Achdus and Anavah at Har Sinai
• Rav Yisrael Salanter Rejoiced That Everyone Had the Light
• "Ish Asher KeVirchaso": The Blessing of Seeing Another's Success

Transcript

# Caring for Another Yid: Yaakov's Brachos and the Secret of Achdus

## Why Did Yaakov Publicly Rebuke Some Sons and Praise Others?

Rabosai, this week's parashah contains the **brachos of Yaakov Avinu**. To understand them, I want to begin with a tremendous *kashya*.

Yaakov understood very well the danger of **pirud bein ha'achim**, division among the brothers. Chazal teach that the special garment Yaakov gave Yosef helped create the jealousy that ultimately brought the family down to Mitzrayim (Shabbos 10b).

Now Yaakov is about to depart this world. What does he do? He calls together his sons and speaks to each one. But to **Reuven** he says **"פחז כמים אל תותר"** (Bereishis 49:4), and to **Shimon and Levi** he gives very sharp *tochachah*. Meanwhile others hear words of encouragement and praise.

How can that be? If the family had already suffered so much from jealousy and separation, why would Yaakov single out certain brothers for public criticism?

You might say: a person needs to know **his ma'alos and chesronos**. He must know what is strong within him and what requires *tikkun*. That can itself be the greatest *brachah*. Of course.

But why must **everyone else hear** the shortcomings of Reuven, Shimon and Levi?

Look at the closing pasuk, **Bereishis 49:28**:

**"כל אלה שבטי ישראל שנים עשר וזאת אשר דבר להם אביהם ויברך אותם איש אשר כברכתו ברך אותם."**

These are the twelve tribes; their father spoke to them and blessed them, each according to his blessing.

Notice something strange. It says **"איש אשר כברכתו ברך אותם"**. One would have expected **"ברך אותו"**—he blessed **him**, the individual. Instead it says **"ברך אותם"**, **he blessed them**.

Rashi immediately asks that question and answers that Yaakov did not give Yehudah the courage of a lion or Binyamin the traits of a wolf to the complete exclusion of every other brother. **All the brothers were included in all the blessings**, even though each son had his unique emphasis.

That is a beautiful idea, but it creates a new question. If every brother received a share of the various blessings, **why assign them individually**?

And how did putting their different strengths and weaknesses openly before one another produce **achdus** rather than competition?

I want to suggest that perhaps the entire structure of Yaakov's blessings was itself a lesson in **how Klal Yisrael must become one**.

## A Bracha Means Knowing Both Your Strengths and Your Limitations

Let's examine the language again. **"איש אשר כברכתו ברך אותם."**

The *baalei mussar* explain that a *brachah* can mean something much more profound than wishing a person success. It can mean revealing to him **what he is capable of becoming**—his personal strengths, his weaknesses, and his specific work in this world.

A person might come expecting to hear only *brachah vehatzlachah*. Instead he hears *tochachah*: Reuven is told about instability; Shimon and Levi hear about anger. Is that a *brachah*?

Yes, if it helps them understand what they must work on in order to grow.

But we still have to explain why **all the brothers** were present. Why did Reuven need to hear the strengths of Yehudah, and why did Yehudah need to hear Reuven's weaknesses?

Rashi tells us that the different *brachos* were not sealed off from one another. **Every Yid has some *shaychus* to every *middah* and spiritual achievement**. Some people are especially gifted in one area, others in another, but the larger Torah is for everyone.

At the same time, it is true that **each person has his own avodah**.

This brings me to a remarkable teaching quoted in a *teshuvah* of the **Chasam Sofer**, Orach Chaim, siman 197 as mentioned in the *shiur*—the exact primary text and responsum identification should be verified.

The thought is that **the entire Torah belongs equally to every Jew**. No one may say that one portion of the Torah applies only to a certain personality and another portion is irrelevant to him.

But inside the obligation to fulfill the entire Torah, each person has an **individual *derech***. What stirs one heart in service of Hashem may be different from what stirs another.

**"אין לב שני בני אדם שוה באהבת ה'"**—two human hearts are not necessarily identical in the way they express love of Hashem.

A person has to discover where his particular **talents and deepest spiritual sensitivities** lie. He must serve Hashem with what is truly his, rather than copying someone else's personal form of *avodah* simply because it looks impressive.

This isn't an exemption from the Torah. **It's a way of fulfilling the Torah as the person Hashem created you to be.**

And perhaps that is what Yaakov was giving his children. He wasn't handing them identical lives. He was helping each one recognize **his own place** within the larger nation.

Now we need to understand the most important part: **how do different ways of serving Hashem strengthen the unity of Klal Yisrael rather than divide us?**

## Different Avodos Are Part of One Klal

The **Chasam Sofer**, in the teaching I want to bring, emphasizes that no two people have precisely the same heart in *ahavas Hashem*. We share **one Torah**, but we are not all the same person.

Consider the expression **"הלא כבני כשיים אתם לי בני ישראל"** (Amos 9:7), which appears in a discussion of people who differ from one another. The precise homiletic interpretation attributed to this Chasam Sofer passage should be checked in its original language.

We look different. We have different personalities, skills, interests and temperaments. Yet **inside we belong to one people**.

Now, if someone says, "For there to be achdus, everyone must be exactly alike," I think he has missed the point. Making every person imitate the same external behavior may suppress the very *tafkid* Hashem gave him.

It can even produce **"מצות אנשים מלומדה"** (Yeshayahu 29:13)—an automatic performance of religion because everybody else does it, without the person's own heart.

So I want to distinguish **shared halachic obligations** from **individual spiritual expression**. Everyone must observe the same Torah according to its laws. But within that Torah a person may find his unique way of serving the Ribbono Shel Olam.

I heard of an interpretation attributed to the **Chiddushei HaRim** concerning why the Megillah is read on different dates: the eleventh, twelfth, thirteenth, fourteenth and fifteenth of Adar in different historical circumstances (Megillah 1:1). One could ask, why should one mitzvah take different forms among different parts of Klal Yisrael?

There are of course technical halachic reasons for the dates. But the *Chassidishe* lesson offered is that **unity need not mean uniformity**.

Each community and each person has their particular *chelek*. A nation can be **a klal precisely because it contains different pratim**.

The *shiur* asks whether Haman's description **"עם אחד מפוזר ומפורד בין העמים ודתיהם שונות"** (Esther 3:8) necessarily proves that Jews were quarrelling among themselves. Perhaps the wording emphasizes that they were **spread out**, living in different places and under different practices, and Haman mistook their diversity for weakness.

That's the speaker's proposed reading, not an attempt to deny other Midrashic or *mussar* interpretations about disunity.

I am trying to show you a *yesod*: **Klal Yisrael consists of many different people serving one Hashem**.

And so Yaakov Avinu could bless each son differently **while still blessing all of them together**. The brothers needed to learn that another person's strength was not a threat to theirs.

Now I want to connect this with a beautiful *brachah* of Chazal: **"עולמך תראה בחייך"**.

## Purim, Diversity, and "Olamcha Tireh BeChayecha"

I want to dwell a little longer on the idea that **achdus is not the same as everybody becoming identical**.

The *shiur* cites the **Chiddushei HaRim** in connection with the Megillah being read at different times, and Haman's words **"ישנו עם אחד מפוזר ומפורד"**. The *derush* is that Haman saw Jewish communities living with different customs, in different places, and thought such a nation could not truly be one.

But the Jewish people don't become one by eliminating all their differences. They become one by recognizing that **each *chelek* belongs to the whole**.

This also explains why a person's *avodah* must not be a mere copy of another person's life. A Yid needs to know what Hashem expects from **him**, even while being fully bound by the Torah's shared requirements.

Now let's turn to a Gemara I love.

The Gemara in **Berachos 17a** relates that when the *Chachamim* took leave of one another, they blessed each other:

**"עולמך תראה בחייך ואחריתך לחיי העולם הבא."**

May you see **your world** in your lifetime, and may your end be directed toward life in the World to Come.

What does **"עולמך"**, **your world**, mean?

Perhaps each person has a **particular world he was sent here to build**—a responsibility, a potential, a form of *avodas Hashem* that belongs to him.

A person can live an entire lifetime trying to do what everyone else is doing. But perhaps none of that is his particular *tafkid*. Chazal bless us that we should be *zocheh* to see **our own world fulfilled in our lifetime**.

And look at the beginning of **Mesillas Yesharim**, where the Ramchal says:

**"שיתברר ויתאמת אצל האדם מה חובתו בעולמו."**

A person must clarify and establish **his duty in his world**.

Why not just say *chovaso ba'olam*, his duty in the world? I want to hear a personal emphasis in **"בעולמו"**. Each person must understand **his unique duty** within the larger obligations of Torah.

This is not selfishness. It is the opposite. When you know your own strengths and your own limitations, you begin to recognize **how much you need other people**.

And that is the bridge between **the individual** and **the klal**. We cannot each do everything alone.

I want to explain it through another saying of Chazal: **"בשבילי נברא העולם."**

## "Bishvili Nivra HaOlam": A World That Is My Responsibility

Chazal teach (Sanhedrin 37a):

**"לפיכך כל אחד ואחד חייב לומר בשבילי נברא העולם."**

Each person must say, **for me the world was created**.

That can sound very self-centered. A person says, "Everything should be for me. Everybody should help me. I come first, because *bishvili nivra ha'olam*!"

No, *rabosai*. That is a terrible misunderstanding of the *mussar*.

The meaning is not that the whole world exists to satisfy my wants. It is that **Hashem created a portion of the world that only I can take responsibility for**.

I have my *olam*. You have yours. I must work on mine, and I must recognize that the part entrusted to you is no less important.

That helps me understand the words **"עולמך תראה בחייך"**. May your own life's purpose become visible to you; may you accomplish it while you are alive.

And the Gemara continues, **"ואחריתך לחיי העולם הבא."** May the future of that unique *avodah* extend into **Olam Haba**.

The *shiur* recalls an account from Chazal about a poor *tzaddik* who received a golden table leg from Heaven, then returned it after his wife learned that it would diminish their portion in the World to Come (Taanis 25a). The story is associated with **Rav Chanina ben Dosa**, and the precise details of how one person's heavenly portion relates to another's must be learned in its original context.

My *mussar* from it is this: each person has a **unique spiritual portion**, shaped by his own life and his own choices. We cannot assume the *avodah* of another individual will simply replace the life Hashem gave us to live.

A person can be gifted in learning, another in *chesed*, another in teaching, another in strengthening Jewish homes. Each must obey the Torah, but each has a particular way of contributing.

And that is why **the blessings of Yaakov** were both **individual and collective**.

But I want to take the lesson one step further: it is not enough merely to acknowledge that other people are different. We must **value those differences**.

The Gemara, and a wonderful remark attributed to **Rav Yaakov Kamenetsky**, help us understand how much more respectful our attitude toward differing minds must become.

## Different Faces, Different Minds—and the Same Klal

There is a well-known teaching of Chazal:

**"כשם שאין פרצופיהן שווין כך אין דעותיהן שוות"**—just as people's faces differ, so too their minds and opinions differ (see Berachos 58a).

A thought attributed to **Rav Yaakov Kamenetsky** asks: why do Chazal need the comparison with faces? Is it such a tremendous *chiddush* that people disagree? Go into a shul, enter a meeting, or speak to a family: you'll see immediately that different people have different opinions!

But perhaps that is not the point. We know people disagree. What we don't necessarily know is **how to look at disagreement**.

When somebody's face looks different from mine, do I think, "That's not a real face"? Of course not. Every person has a face, and no two faces need to be identical.

Yet when somebody thinks differently from me, my first reaction may be, **"He doesn't know what he's talking about. There must be something wrong with him."**

Chazal teach us to look at differences of thought more like differences of face. Another person can be a normal, thoughtful person even though **his mind works differently from mine**.

Now don't misunderstand. Not every opinion is true, and there is a Torah by which we measure our beliefs and actions. We are not saying that right and wrong don't exist.

We are saying that **the existence of different personalities is not itself a defect**.

And that is where the problem of **pirud** begins. When I cannot tolerate another person's strengths or way of thinking, I make room only for **myself**.

But Klal Yisrael cannot function if every Yid thinks his own gifts are the only gifts worth having. We need different strengths to build a complete people.

So let's return to Yaakov's blessings. He told each son his own *ma'alos* and *chesronos*. Rashi says **"ברך אותם"**, because everyone was included in the blessings.

Perhaps the meaning is that each son had to understand both things: **I have my own special *chelek*, and I also belong to a *klal* whose other members possess strengths I may need**.

And this takes us to the most beautiful part of the *shmuess*. I saw a *vort* from **Rav Mordechai Katz**, the Rosh Yeshiva, about why being told your **shortcomings** can itself be a *brachah*.

Listen carefully, *rabosai*.

## Why Knowing Your Chesronos Is a Blessing

Rav Mordechai Katz is cited with a wonderful explanation of **"איש אשר כברכתו ברך אותם"**.

Why did Yaakov tell some sons their **chesronos**? How could sharp *mussar* be counted among the *brachos*?

Because if I know my **weakness**, I can recognize the **strength in another person**.

Imagine someone who thinks he has every virtue. He believes he's wise, charitable, patient, brave and skilled in every area. He doesn't see any reason to consult or learn from others.

What happens? In precisely those areas where he lacks a *middah*, **he remains weak**, because he never realizes he needs somebody else's help.

But if a person is honest about his *chesronos*, he can say: **"I don't have that *ma'alah*, but my fellow Yid does. I can learn from him. I can join with him."**

The written passage quoted in the *shiur* says in substance:

**"כלל ישראל מוקף מאישים שונים ודעות מחולקות זו מזו"**—Klal Yisrael is made up of different people with differing outlooks.

When each person recognizes his special strengths and contributes them, he helps the entire Klal. And when he knows his limitations, he can benefit from the special gifts of his fellow.

**"ממילא ניזון הוא מברכותיו של השני"**—he is nourished by the blessing of the other.

Now you understand the *chiddush*. **My deficiency can become a blessing if it makes me connect with the person who has what I lack.**

That is why Yaakov wanted his sons to hear one another. Not to embarrass them. Not to create jealousy. To teach them that the **whole family needs every individual**.

And this gives me a new way of understanding the famous *tefillah* attributed to **Rav Elimelech of Lizhensk**:

**"אדרבה, תן בלבנו שנראה כל אחד מעלת חברינו ולא חסרונם."**

Hashem, place in our hearts the ability to see the virtues of our fellows, not their shortcomings.

At first I understood this simply as a mitzvah of **ahavas Yisrael**: be generous in your judgments, see the good in another person.

Certainly. But now I see an added dimension. **It benefits me to see the other person's *ma'alos***. When I recognize that he has something I lack, I can grow through his strengths.

This is what true **achdus** accomplishes.

And the **Ohr HaChaim** on **Shemos 19:2** explains that Klal Yisrael had to be united before **Kabbalas HaTorah**. They must come together, sharpen each other's understanding, and look kindly upon one another.

Why? Because Torah is not fully acquired by isolated individuals who imagine they need nobody else. **We need one another to become a complete Klal**.

Now let's look more deeply at why **anavah** was also a condition for receiving the Torah.

## Achdus and Anavah at Har Sinai

The Torah says **"ויחן שם ישראל נגד ההר"** (Shemos 19:2). Rashi, from the Mechilta, explains **"כאיש אחד בלב אחד"**—as one person with one heart.

The **Ohr HaChaim** on the same pasuk develops the relationship between **anavah**, the humility symbolized by the wilderness, and **achdus**, the joining of people's hearts and minds.

Why do we need both?

Because without **anavah**, a person cannot accept that he needs another person. He says, "I know everything. I have all the strengths. Let everyone else learn from me."

Then how will he be part of a true *klal*?

But if I recognize **my own limitations**, I can accept the blessings Hashem gave my fellow. Through *achdus*, I become part of a people capable of fulfilling all the various mitzvos, even those that one individual cannot personally perform in every circumstance.

That is a *yesod* associated with the Ohr HaChaim's discussion: Klal Yisrael is not a collection of self-sufficient individuals. The different members strengthen and complete one another.

And now you understand why **Yaakov Avinu** gave every brother an individual blessing **in front of the others**.

Each son had to learn: your *ma'alah* serves the entire family, and the other person's *ma'alah* serves **you**, too.

I want to tell you a story about **Rav Yerucham Levovitz**, the great Mir *Mashgiach*, that shows the difference between taking pleasure only when **I** receive a benefit and rejoicing because **everybody else benefits too**.

A former *talmid* of the Mir once told me of a conversation he witnessed with Rav Yerucham. The exact name is unclear in the transcription, and I do not want to guess it.

The story concerned **Rav Yisrael Salanter**. Someone had heard that when Rav Yisrael saw the morning light, he was so overwhelmed with appreciation that he rejoiced as he said the *berachah*:

**"הנותן לשכוי בינה להבחין בין יום ובין לילה."**

The student asked Rav Yerucham: how can this be? Rav Yisrael Salanter lived not so long ago, and yet we say that same *brachah* today almost automatically, without deep *kavanah*. What did he see in the daylight that we fail to see?

Rav Yerucham's answer, in the account passed down to me, was extraordinary.

Let's hear it carefully. It will bring the whole *shmuess* together.

## Rav Yisrael Salanter Rejoiced That Everyone Had the Light

A person receives a benefit. He gets a beautiful car, a wonderful home, a valuable gift. Of course he's happy.

But imagine that tomorrow **every person in the neighborhood** receives the exact same thing. Some people's excitement would immediately diminish. "If everyone has it, what's so special about mine?"

That is the way **kinah** can enter a person's life. The good I have seems less precious simply because someone else has it too.

Now let's go back to **the sun rising in the morning**.

Why don't we dance when we see daylight? Perhaps because **everybody receives it**. I have daylight, but so does my neighbor. I take it for granted.

And Rav Yerucham explained the opposite about **Rav Yisrael Salanter**: what made him so happy was **that the sunlight was given to everybody**.

What a *middah*! He saw a tremendous gift from Hashem, and his joy increased because the gift was **not only for himself**.

Do you understand, *rabosai*? The difference between these two attitudes is the difference between **kinah** and **achdus**.

One person thinks, "I am only happy if my advantage distinguishes me from everybody else."

The other thinks, "I am delighted that Hashem gave this goodness to my fellow as well!"

Now think about **the brothers of Yosef**. Yosef had tremendous *ma'alos*. He was the **ben zekunim**, and Chazal describe Yaakov transmitting much of his Torah to him.

The brothers saw that Yosef had qualities that stood out. There was jealousy and tension in the family, even though these were people of an extraordinary spiritual level.

What did Yaakov want to accomplish when he blessed his sons?

**"איש אשר כברכתו ברך אותם."**

The *brachah* wasn't only that each son would have his own special gifts. **Each son had to rejoice that the other brothers shared those blessings**.

That is harder than it sounds.

A person may accept that another fellow is better than he is in one area because he needs the fellow's help. But can he also be happy when the other man possesses **the very *ma'alah* he himself treasures**?

Can I be pleased when someone else excels in **my** area of strength?

That is an even higher level of *achdus*.

Yaakov blessed them in a way that **shared each brother's blessing with all twelve tribes**. He was teaching them to rejoice not only in their own *ma'alos*, but in the success of every other member of Klal Yisrael.

And I want to finish with another *diyuk* in the pasuk and a *Chassidishe vort* on the word **"אשר"**.

## "Ish Asher KeVirchaso": The Blessing of Seeing Another's Success

Our pasuk says **"איש אשר כברכתו ברך אותם"**. Why does it use the word **"אשר"**? What does that add?

One approach, attributed in the *shiur* to the **Ostrovtser Rebbe**, sees an allusion to **osher**, happiness or fulfillment.

Every person has his own understanding of what is valuable. To one man, the greatest blessing is wealth. To another, it is success in learning. To a third, it is family, *chesed*, or a particular opportunity in *avodas Hashem*.

Maybe **"איש אשר כברכתו"** hints to the blessing that will truly be good for each person, the blessing that will bring him genuine fulfillment according to his own *tafkid*.

And that brings us back to the fact that Yaakov also gave **tochachah**. Sometimes the greatest *brachah* for a person is not to receive what he expects, but to discover **what he needs to correct**.

There is a tradition about the Ostrovtser Rebbe's extraordinary fasting and self-discipline. The exact number of years and biographical details mentioned in oral stories require separate verification, but the *mussar* is the point I want to bring.

Now listen to my final *chiddush*.

Perhaps **"איש אשר כברכתו ברך אותם"** doesn't only mean that each son received a special blessing that was also shared by his brothers.

It also means that **the fact that another brother shares my blessing is itself a blessing for me**.

When I see another Yid learn beautifully, I should not say, "He is taking away from my standing."

When I see another Yid accomplish something in *chesed*, I should not feel diminished.

**I should rejoice!** The *ma'alah* of another Yid is not a threat to my own worth. Since we are one *klal*, his spiritual success strengthens us all.

And if I know my own *chesronos*, I can learn from him. If I know my own *ma'alos*, I can share them without fear. That is **achdus built through individuality**, not through forcing everybody to be the same.

So perhaps Yaakov Avinu was not repeating the mistake of creating division by singling out certain sons. He was **repairing the very problem that had divided the family**.

He told each son what he needed to hear, in the presence of the others, and then included **all the sons in all the brachos**.

**That is what it means to care for another Yid: to value his unique place, to learn from his strengths, and to be genuinely happy that Hashem blessed him.**

May we be *zocheh* to see **the *ma'alos* of our fellow Yidden**, to share in one another's blessings, and to build a true *achdus* of Klal Yisrael.