Lemonade Life

“…You should engrave upon it like the engraving of a seal: Holy to Hashem.” (Shemos 28:36)

ATorah Jew requires no proof that Torah is min haShamayim. Yet the maxim of Chazal (Taanis 9): “Is there anything not hinted at in the Torah?”  offers ample proof of the Torah’s Divine character. Events, places and names are alluded to in the Torah, often long before they occurred.The Gemara (Taanis 2a) writes that that are three keys that remain only in Hashem’s control (and aren’t given over to a shaliach): childbirth, rain, and techiyas hameisim. Asks the Gra, where is this referred to in the Torah? The answer, he says, lies in the pasuk above: The word “chosam” (seal) is made up of three letters: ches, sav and mem. The ches represents “chayah,” a woman who gives birth; the sav “techiyeh,” revival; and the mem “matar” rain. The word “pituchei” (engravings), which precedes the word “chosem,” is from the same root as “maftei’ach” (keys).

There’s nothing that’s not hinted at in the Torah. (Rav Eliezer Chrysler, Midei Shabbos)

“Where are my scissors?” Silly me! Why do I think someone is going to pipe up and answer me? But those leopard-patterned-handled scissors were marked in clear permanent marker “For Kitchen Use Only.” Who was the invisible “Not-Me” who ignored that warning?

I eventually found the scissors screwed into a flower bed outside in the garden. Upon interrogation, my budding entomologist admitted he was trying to cut a dead worm in half to see if it would rejuvenate. Uggh. Time for new kitchen shears.

Earlier in the parshah is a remarkable reference to the years the two Batei Mikdash stood. The Torah writes: “And you shall take for yourself pure olive oil, beaten, for the light.” (27:20). The word “kasis” (beaten) read backward (hints connected with Hashem’s Midas HaDin often appear backward) and broken into two parts, reads sav-yud and sav-chaf. In gematria, (numerical value) these equal 410 and 420, referring to the years the two Batei Hamikdash stood. The very same word “kasis, beaten” indicates that they would ultimately be destroyed. However, the pasuk concludes “to kindle the everlasting lamp,” a neat reference to the third Beis Hamikdash, which will never be destroyed, and whose light will shine forever.

Seriously though, I rarely bother looking for any item in its designated place. Raising a bunch of creative out-of-the-box children forces even the most square of people (which I’ve never been) to think out of the polygon.

Yet the ability for search and rescue serves me well in life, not only when kitchen implements go missing. There are hidden messages inherent in every aspect of life, and the proper perspective helps ferret them out. I find these sleuthing techniques particularly necessary when things aren’t going the way I’d like them to. When life sends lemons in avalanches, often you’re drowned in lemonade. What then? How to wade through the wash to discover the deeper meaning hidden in the pulp and seeds?