Excerpts from a lesson given by HaRav Eliezer Berland, shlit"a, Parshas Vayechi.

    It says in the story of "The Cripple": “There is also a path for the righteous who accept suffering upon themselves. The wealthy landowners lead them in chains."  This is speaking about the greatest  tzaddikim, who accept upon themselves the suffering of the entire Jewish people with faith and joy. As it says, “I will even dance as I ascend the altar to be a bound sacrifice.” 
    In his book about the Holocaust, Those Who Did Not Bow Down, Moshe Prager writes about a group of  young Gerrer Chassidim who were going joyfully to the crematoria. A Nazi officer standing nearby was amazed: "What on earth was going on here?" He had never seen anything like it. The Chassidim explained to him that, for a Jew, it is the greatest mitzvah to die in order to sanctify Hashem’s Name. They were joyous because they were now about to fulfill this tremendous mitzvah. The officer heard this and said, “What? I should give you the one thing that you want the most? Return to the barracks immediately!” and he brought them back to the camp.  Many of them survived to tell this tale. Even now, some of the young men who told this story are living among us.
    Elsewhere in the book, Rabbi Prager writes about fifty young Vizhnitzer Chassidim who were taken to the crematoria on Simchas Torah.  It was part of the Nazi plan to take people to be murdered on the festivals. From Tishrei until Cheshvan, the largest transports were sent. They burned thirty thousand every day; and in that way they incinerated half a million people. The Nazis also chose special days in particular to take people to the crematoria such as on festivals like Pesach, Purim, and Sukkot. On this Simchas Torah, as they were sending these fifty young men to the crematoria, they started to sing and dance. The Nazi officer couldn't understand what was happening, and he asked them how could they be so happy. They explained to him that today was Simchas Torah, and that they were dancing with the Torah. “Our body is the Torah, and it is now going to unite with Hashem, by being burned to sanctify Hashem’s Name.” The Nazi heard this and said to them, “I will not allow you to die like this, in such a mood of happiness. Go back to the barracks now, and tomorrow we will kill you one by one. We will cut you all into pieces.” They returned to the barracks, and the next day, a directive came to the camp that they had to organize a transport of one thousand men to work in a certain factory. The officers organized the transport, but found that they only had nine hundred and fifty men. Being very meticulous, they had to make sure that "one thousand" was really "one thousand,” and so these fifty young men were added to the transport, and some of them survived the war.
    People went through unbelievable suffering during the Holocaust.  One man tells about how he lived without food for nineteen days. The Nazis sent them by train for nineteen days—from Auschwitz to Berlin—and didn’t give them any food. Every day they stopped for five minutes to get off the train and then get back on. That stop was what saved him. During the journey he would lick the frost from the train window, and when they would stop for five minutes, he would lick up the dew from the grass. 
    The Germans were even cruel to their own countrymen.  There is a book that describes how they did all kinds of medical experiments on their own citizens. Under the control of the best of the German doctors, they used to starve people for up to three months. But there were those who survived even that.
     The story of "The Cripple" continues: there are righteous people, that “do not have any strength in their feet. Some powder from the path of the righteous people is scattered under their feet, and this gives their feet strength.”  In the concentration camps, there were many who didn't even have the strength to walk to the crematoria for all the suffering that they had undergone. “Some powder from the path of righteous people is scattered under their feet.“ "Powder” (avak) is the numerical equivalent of “Faith” (emunah). With the power of faith, they leapt with joy into the fire. “I will even dance as I ascend the altar, to be a bound sacrifice.” With the power of faith, one Jew can stand against the entire world. As it says in Sefer Tehillim (118:10-12), “All nations encompassed me, but in the Name of Hashem, I cut them down. They encompassed me; indeed, they surrounded me, but in the Name of Hashem, I cut them down. They encompassed me like bees; they are quenched like a fire of thorns, for in the Name of Hashem, I cut them down.” 
    Those who are killed to sanctify Hashem’s Name are the souls of “Bereishis,” the very highest souls which were created even before the creation of the world (as discussed in the introduction of Tikkunei Zohar, p. 10).  The world was created for their sake, and in their merit it continues to exist. They were the ten martyrs in the time of the Romans, they are those who die to sanctify Hashem’s Name in every generation. This is what it says in the Midrash, (Bereishis, 34:9)  “’And He smelled the sweet savor’—this is the generation of forced apostasy and annihilation.” The Tzaddikim suffer for the Jewish people, and the Jewish people suffer for the entire world. This is what we say every morning in “Hodu,” (Tehillim, 94:1)  “O L-rd Hashem, to whom vengeance  belongs; O Hashem, to whom vengeance belongs, shine forth!” The Arizal teaches in Sha’ar HaKavanos that this refers to the ten martyrs. When we say this during “Hodu” in our prayers, we pass from world to world: we rise from Asiyah to Yetzirah—for the inner dimension of Asiyah enclothes Netzach, Hod, and Yesod of Yetzirah.
    Rebbe Nachman discusses this in Likutei Moharan I:25.  This psalm is the song of the sun. The sun sings “Hodu” the entire day as is transverses the heavens. When Yehoshua wanted to stop the sun, he said, (Yehoshua, 10:12)  “Sun, over Givon, be silent.” Being "silent" refers to the sun's stopping the singing of “Hodu,” which caused the sun to remain in its place. 
    David HaMelech established that we should say “Hodu” every morning. As it is brought in Pri Eitz Chayim, “After this, we say ‘Hodu’, for this praise is the praise that the sun offers as it travels to light up the world. And we say it with a melody, aloud, sweetly, and the Jewish people praise the Holy One together with the sun. As it says, (Tehillim, 72:5)  ‘May they fear You with the sun.’ David HaMelech established that it should be said before the ark of Hashem every day, and the Levi’im sang it below, before the ark. So too, Aharon and the Levi’im sing it above before the ark of the covenant of the L-rd of the entire earth, but the melody begins here.” Therefore, we also sing “Hodu,” and in the worlds above, the Levi’im sing it before the ark. A Levi who is worthy to sing “Hodu” here in this world during the prayers will also merit in Heaven to join in and sing before the ark. The sun says, “O L-rd Hashem, to whom vengeance belongs; O Hashem, to whom vengeance belongs, shine forth!” because the sun is unwilling to go and shine for the world until the blood of all the martyrs is avenged. This is the meaning of the verse, (Chavakuk 3:11)  “The sun and moon stood still in Zevul; at the light of Your arrows as they speed, and at the shining of Your glittering spear.”  The sun ascends to the firmament called “Zevul”; this is higher than the groom who ascends to the firmament called “Shechakim” (Megale Amukos, 99). (This parallels the listing of the firmaments in the Gemara Chagiga 12b.)  So the sun then ascends to Zevul and demands vengeance. If it isn’t forthcoming, she is unwilling to emerge until arrows and spears are shot at her—“at the light of Your arrows as they speed, and at the shining of Your glittering spear.”
    Great is vengeance that was placed between two names of Hashem, “O L-rd to Whom vengeance belongs,
Hashem.” The vengeance of Hashem is similar to the building of the Beis HaMikdash, which is also placed between two names of Hashem (Shemos,15:17): “You made, Hashem, a Mikdash of Hashem.” The building of the Beis HaMikdash corresponds to the completion of the soul; the soul is unwilling to enter into her place in Gan Eden until her blood is avenged from her murderer. So she stands and waits at the entrance to Gan Eden; she can wait five years, ten years, twenty years until her murderer dies. (It can be understood from this that even a murderer’s natural death helps.  Furthermore, the entire issue of vengeance is to hasten the murderer’s death so that the victim’s soul can enter into it’s proper place of rest.)  The sun, when she goes out to shine over the world and sees the line of souls that are waiting at the entrance to Gan Eden, ascends to Zevul to seek vengeance. She refuses to leave until arrows and spears are shot at her.
    The ten martyrs, and all those who were murdered during all the Holocausts are all rooted in the sale of Yosef. This sin will crouch over the Jewish people until Moshiach comes. All of the Jewish people have a share in this sin because all of the Jewish people are extensions of the ten tribes. Everything that Yosef went through when he was sold, the Jewish people have to go through as a whole. This is why they beat us, and throw us into pits.Yosef also experienced terror in the pit and also received blows at the hands of the Yishmaelim. Even though they came with a caravan of spices, (Bereishis, 37:25) “gum, balm, and ladanum"--so that he should be surrounded by sweet smells--Yosef still was beaten viciously by the Yishmaelim. Rav Avraham ben Rav Nachman writes in Kochvei Or that the brothers took for granted that Yosef would be killed. Anyone who knows what a slave is, what a slave used to be...There was a time that people would buy a slave as a plaything. For a pittance they would buy a plaything so that they could have someone to beat up on. For every little thing, he would be beaten to within an inch of his life. He would be worked and beaten as much as his owner wanted, and abused whenever his owner felt like it. It was a common occurrence for slaves to die at the hands of their owners. There are those for whom this is the greatest sport—to beat a man to death. 
    So it was with Yosef.  The Yishmaelim beat him the entire way. They traveled from Dotan until Egypt. They passed through Shechem, Yerushalayim, Beit Lechem. When they stopped near Beit Lechem, they reached Rachel’s Tomb which is in the middle of the road. Yosef sprang away from the caravan to his mother’s gravesite and began to cry and scream,  "Rachel, Rachel! Mother, Mother! See how they’re beating me and hitting me!” The Midrash teaches how one of the Arabs chased after him to catch him, but when he stretched out his hand to grab Yosef, his entire body was paralyzed.  He was frozen like a statue—only his tongue remained mobile, enabling him to speak.Yosef stood and cried at the grave. Suddenly, a voice rang out from the grave. Rachel answered him, “Don’t worry, I will be with you all the time. Wherever you go, no one will be able to touch you. No one will be able to harm you.”
    Even now, Rachel’s Tomb is literally in the middle of the road by the highway. The road runs along the axis of the country; it was for this reason that Yaakov buried her at the roadside where the Jewish people would pass by in the future. It was all Divine Providence. Yaakov knew all that would happen, and he saw all the exiles and how all of them would pass by that way. Yosef had previously doubted his father’s judgment in burying her there, as Rashi brings from the Midrash, (see Rashi on Bereishis 48:7, “And I buried her there.”)  “I know you harbor a doubt in your heart about me.” He thought, "Why did my Father bury my Mother in the middle of the road? You bury an ewe that way—wherever she dies, you dig a hole and bury her. Why didn’t he take her to Beit Lechem at least,  (Bereishis, 48:7)  'There was only a little way to Efrat.' He should have buried her in the city of Beit Lechem, in a proper cemetery, not like this, smack in the middle of the road." Nowadays, there are houses round about, but then, the place was completely desolate. He could even have brought her to Chevron, to bury her in Ma’aras HaMachpela. True, perhaps he would not have been able to go himself, since he was traveling with all the family--with the babies and the sheep--but he could have sent some of the brothers. He could have sent Yehuda on a swift horse to bury her in Chevron. 
    Yosef had carried these doubts with him for thirty–nine years, from the age of eight (when Rachel died) until he was forty–seven years old. When they left Lavan’s house, he had been six years old, and they were two years on the road until she died. Only at the time of Yaakov’s death, when Yosef was forty-seven years old, did he find out that Yaakov’s actions had been inspired by prophecy. When the Jewish people went into exile at the hands of Nevuzaradan, they passed by Rachel’s Tomb. They cried at her grave, and  Rachel went and cried before Hashem for the sake of the Jewish people. Until today, she continues to cry for the Jewish people. This is why Hashem commanded that she be buried on the road, so that she would cry for the Jewish people. She has been crying now for three thousand years. She has merited to surpass Leah. Leah merited to be buried in Ma’aras HaMachpela through her crying that she should not fall to the lot of Esav. For how long did she cry--from the age of fourteen until she was sixteen. But Rachel, with her crying for the last three thousand years, has surpassed Leah. In the ultimate future, Rachel will therefore merit to be buried in the inner portion of Ma’aras HaMachpela, to which Leah did not merit. This is discussed in the Sefer HaTemunah, as is the fact that Moshe and Tzipporah are also buried in Ma’aras HaMachpela. When one goes to Ma’aras HaMachpela, he merits to prostrate himself also at the graves of Moshe and Tzipporah, and also Aharon and Miriam are buried there. Sefer HaTemunah says that they are actually buried there—their bodies came there through underground tunnels, (Sefer HaTemunah, Temunah 3, letter 200,  p. 146). The Zohar (Parshas Chukas 183a) explains that the underground tunnels are open from their gravesites to Ma’aras HaMachpela, and that in the ultimate future, David HaMelech will also merit to be buried there. (In the Sefer HaTemunah, Rachel and David are mentioned; its commentary discusses Moshe and Tzipporah, and the notes of Rav Chayim Vital (Zohar, Parshas Chukas 183a) discuss the underground connections between the graves of Moshe, Aharon, and Miriam and the Ma’aras HaMachpela.) 
    So, in every generation we have to atone for the sin of the selling of Yosef—particularly the Tzaddikim, who are actual reincarnations of the ten brothers. This is why the Tzaddikim in particular have often been killed in the most atrocious manner. For instance Rav Shimshon of Ostropol—they forced a branch into him until it reached his brain.  Similarly  with Rav Michel of Nemirov. This proves that they were actual reincarnations of the ten brothers, as were the ten martyrs that we mention in the Yom Kippur prayers and the Kinnot of Tisha B'Av. 
    So it is in every generation—every year ten Tzaddikim are killed, and once every seventy to one hundred years, masses of people are murdered, may Hashem save us. Only during the period of the Beis HaMikdash were there no such acts of genocide. This parallels Binyamin, who did not participate in the sale of Yosef. This is what the Arizal says in the Sefer HaLikutim, regarding why the name Binyamin is written fully (with both yuds) five times in the Torah (Parshas Miketz). The numerical equivalent of those five fully written names is eight hundred and thirty—the precise number of years that the two Temples stood. (The first stood for four hundred and ten years, the second for four hundred and twenty years.) 
    If we would be worthy to really delve into this matter, how all the suffering that we have been through is because of the sale of Yosef, then we would see an end to this killing. The Arizal explains there that the conflict of Yosef and the brothers occurred because the brothers were unable to comprehend him. The brothers embodied the structure of the Shechina—they were the limbs of the Shechina—each one was a different limb. Reuven was the right arm, Shimon the left arm, Levi the torso, and so on. All except for Yosef—he was the partzuf of Zeir Anpin, which is why they were jealous of him. “Yosef” and “kin’ah” (jealousy) are numerical equivalents (156). This is the meaning of the verse, (Bereishis, 37:3) “because he was the son of his old age.” Only Yosef was able to grasp the teaching of Yaakov Avinu; the brothers were too base to understand. Yosef would listen to their father and then explain the lesson to his brothers, as the Yalkut Shim’oni describes. Because Reuven was the right arm of the Shechina, Yaakov relied on him and felt that it was safe to send Yosef to his brothers, who Yaakov knew hated Yosef. Yaakov knew for certain that Reuven would save Yosef, just as Leah saw prophetically at Reuven’s birth that he would save Yosef—Re’u bein—“see the difference between my son and the son of my father-in-law.” It was only because he was not there at the moment that the brothers sold Yosef, that he failed to save him.
    There are several questions we could ask about the matter of Yosef. How is it possible that all those years he did not send any message to his father that he was alive and living in Egypt? Surely he could have done it with ease; he was the servant of Potiphar who was himself a high officer, the chief priest, (Bereishis 41:50, “Potiphera the Kohen of Ohn.” Rashi explains that Potiphera and Potiphar were one and the same, and the Ramban clarifies that, in this context, Kohen signifies a gentile priest). The possibility existed, and especially afterward, when he was made second to the king of Egypt. What would have been the problem to send a letter in the mail or with an Egyptian messenger? Egypt was then the world’s commercial center, and all the surrounding countries did business there, importing and exporting.  It should have been no problem at all to find a courier traveling to Canaan.
    There were two reasons why Yosef did not do this. Firstly, if Yaakov were to receive a letter that Yosef was alive and would know that the brothers had sold him, he would be angry with the brothers and punish them. With one glance, he could reduce them to a heap of bones. Yosef did not want that they should be punished, especially since the Jewish people still had to emerge from them. Secondly, if the brothers were to hear of his success, and, more particularly, that he had been made a king, they would never come to repent for what they had done. They would never feel any regret, they would say instead, “It was in our merit that he thrived, it was in our merit that he was made a ruler.” The Pirkei D’Rabbi Eliezer says that for forty years he was second to the king, and for another forty years he was the actual king. During his last forty years in Egypt, he was king, and he sought a way the entire time to bring the brothers to regret what they had done. He wanted them to come to true regret, from the depths of their hearts, so that the heavenly accusation against them would be stilled. Without that happening, they could not possibly continue to exist. 
    This is the way that the Beis HaLevi, who was the father of Rav Chayim Brisker and the grandfather of Rav Yosef Dov, the Brisker Rav, explains the verse, “And Yosef said to his brothers, ‘ I am Yosef. Is my father still alive?’ And they were unable to answer him for they were confounded before him.” (Beis HaLevi, Parshas Vayigash, Bereishis 45:3.)  The Midrash comments on this, “Woe to us from the day of judgment! Woe to us from the day of rebuke!  The brothers were unable to withstand the rebuke of their adversary.” The verse, however, is still unclear: why did Yosef ask, “Is my father still alive?” This is the whole argument here—Yehuda is standing and claiming, (Bereishis, 44:31) “And he will see that the boy is missing and he will die.” So why is Yosef asking if his father is alive? And what is the meaning of the Midrash, “Woe to us from the day of judgment! Woe to us from the day of rebuke!” What rebuke was there in his question? 
    What Yosef was working on the entire time with his stories and his accusations that they were spies--this was his way of trying to shake them up and push them to regret that they had sold him. That was why he began with them by calling them spies; that opened them up to feeling a trace of regret twenty–two years after the fact. (Bereishis, 42:21) “And they said to one another, truly, we are guilty concerning our brother, that we saw the anguish of his soul when he implored us and we would not hear; therefore this distress has come upon us.” For the actual commission of the deed, they did not yet feel regret, since they still felt they were in the right. They had judged him as a pursuer with murderous intent since they suspected that he was planning to kill them under Noachide Law (which admits the testimony of a single witness and the decision of a single judge). They suspected that he would testify against them that they had eaten from the limb of a living animal and would cause their deaths. So, they still felt no regret for having sold him since, according to their opinion, he was liable to the death penalty himself. What they did regret was their lack of compassion for him. Yosef had cried so bitterly; he had fallen at the feet of each one of them and begged that they not sell him. In this, they could see that there was some claim against them, that they should have been more merciful to him and yield to him notwithstanding his guilt. That was why they said later, “we are guilty concerning our brother, that we saw the anguish of his soul when he implored us and we would not hear.” One shouldn’t act that way with a brother; he had begged so much, we should have yielded to him. (Bereishis,42:22)  “And Reuven answered them,    saying, Did I not speak to you, saying, 'Do not sin against the child, and you would not hear? See, then, even his blood is demanded.'” Reuven chastised them; he saw that they were only repenting for their lack of  compassion and cried out, “Don’t imagine that there was nothing wrong with selling him—even his blood is required—the very fact that you sold him also has to be taken into account.” 
    When Yosef saw that they still had not come to truly regret what they had done, he arranged the whole matter with Binyamin—he had the goblet placed into Binyamin’s sack, and had them pursued. They caught Binyamin and all of them returned to Egypt. Then, (Bereishis, 44:16),  “And Yehuda said, 'What shall we say to my lord? What can we say, and how can we clear ourselves? G–d has found out the iniquity of your servants.'” It was at that point that they began to understand that the actual sale itself, of Yosef, had truly been a sin. Yehuda speaks here about the sale in the name of all the brothers. He admits that iniquity was done, but they were completely confused when they saw that Binyamin (who was uninvolved in the sale) was the one who had been captured. (In Rashi’s comments on this verse, he emphasizes the words, “G-d has found out: We know that we did no wrong [in the theft of the goblet], but it was ordained from G-d that this should come upon us. The Lender has found a pretext for calling in his debt [the sale of Yosef]”). They felt that this signified that his capture was not a punishment for the sale of Yosef. (The Rav is explaining why this element of regret was insufficient, and why they required the clear rebuke that came later. This is why he comments that, at this point, a doubt arose in their minds when they saw that Binyamin, who was uninvolved in the sale, had been taken). Yosef, however, had planned the detention of Binyamin with great foresight. Only by taking him could the extreme of Yaakov’s anguish be revealed since, “his soul is bound up with his soul.” This revelation would enable Yosef to fully rebuke them, since, when he was sold, he had had the same relationship with Yaakov. This would not have been the case by detaining any of the other brothers since, as we see from the case of Shimon, they had not feared returning to their father without him.
    Yehuda now came with a new argument: True, Binyamin stole. But we still must take another factor into consideration. There is an elderly father, and if Binyamin is detained, it will harm the father—he will die. If Binyamin had lived in Egypt, then it would be legitimate to detain him, but since he didn’t live there, surely it would be possible instead to deport him. Blacklist his passport so that can no longer enter Egypt. This was all in consideration of Yaakov’s feelings. The Beis HaLevi writes: Yosef brought them to a halt—You say you need to take your father into consideration? You're worried about your father? 'I am Yosef. Is my father still alive?'” You argue that I should set Binyamin free because, otherwise, his father will die. But is the father at all alive since the time that you sold me? Where was this consideration for Father when you sold me? Why didn’t you take this worry over Father’s life into the calculation then? The fact that you didn’t take Father into consideration then, is a sign that your legal decision was false. You were blinded by all your personal ulterior motives so you were unable to see any other considerations.
    The sin of the sale of Yosef can never be atoned for. Jews fighting against Jews has no atonement. Even though Yosef brought them to feel regret, still their sin was not atoned for. Either their regret was incomplete and therefore insufficient to erase the sin entirely, or their regret was blemished since the brothers did not come to it on their own but only through clear rebuke from Yosef. Since, without regret, they would not have been able to continue to exist, their regret was sufficient to secure their continued existence but, being blemished, it did not expiate their sin. 
    This is similar to the sin of the destruction of Nov, the city of Kohanim, (Yeshaya 10:32). “This very day He will halt at Nov.” Until today the sin of the murder of the inhabitants of Nov crouches over us. It will not be atoned for, and every trouble that afflicts the Jewish people is partial payment also for this. In many ways it was similar to the destruction of Yerushalayim. The entire nation had some share in it, since everyone was silent. At that time, the Mishkan and the service of the Kohanim was carried on in Nov, and no one protested when all of the priests were  killed. This is why the Jewish people are punished for this until today. The famine that lasted three years that is described in Shmuel II:21 came about as a result of the sin of damaging the livelihood of the Givonim—which was only incidental to the destruction of Nov. The Givonim had been the drawers of water and hewers of wood there. So, for having killed seven of the Givonim, for that alone there were three years of famine, and seven descendants of Shaul were hanged (Rashi, Shmuel II 21:1).
    The Gemara Yevamos 78b-79a speaks about this at length in its comments on the verse, “Then there was a famine in the days of David, three years, year after year.” It was a drought that lasted for three years. Now we are in the second year of a drought. Last year, there was no rain and, so far, this year there has been no rain. “He said to them: Perhaps there are idolaters among you…They investigated but found none.” For a full year they searched the entire country, perhaps there is some idolater there who is the cause of the drought. They did not find a single idolater. “Secondly, he said: Perhaps there are sinners among you…They investigated but found none.” They searched every home for an entire year, perhaps there was some sinner, but they found none. Not a single wild child. That was how it was during the days of David. About those times, it says, (Tehillim, 144:12,)  “Our sons are like plants grown up in their youth; our daughters as corner stones, polished after the fashion of a palace.”  “Thirdly, he said: Perhaps there are those who have determined to give charity publicly and never paid their pledges.” They investigated but found none.”Those who determine to give charity publicly” are people who buy an aliyah on Rosh Hashanah or Yom Kippur and forget to pay. One must be careful to pay immediately. After three years of searching and not finding anything [wrong],  “He said, the matter must be contingent on me. Immediately, ‘And David sought out the face of Hashem’—he asked a question of the urim vi’tummim.” They did not want to ask the urim vi’tummim immediately; it was only after searching on their own and doing what they could that they went to ask of the urim vi’tummim.  “And Hashem answered, (Shmuel 11, 21:1): It is for Shaul and for his bloody house, because he slew the Givonim.”  “‘For Shaul’—that he was not eulogized in accordance with the Halacha.” They did not eulogize him properly, even though he was a king, because everyone was already following David. “And for his bloody house,” because he slew the Givonim. Yet, where do we find that Shaul slew the Givonim? Rather, in slaying the people of Nov, the city of Kohanim, who would provide water and food for the Givonim, scripture portrays it as if Shaul had killed them. 
    For this reason, they hanged seven of Shaul’s children. Even Mefiboshes, the son of Yehonasan, the son of Shaul was nearly hanged. He was saved at the very last minute, as the Gemara relates. They remained hanging for six months, from Nissan until Tishrei. They transgressed the prohibition, (Devarim, 21:23) “Do not leave his carcass hanging on the tree.” It was always the case that those condemned to death by the Beis Din and who required hanging were hanged only one minute before sunset and immediately taken down. They did this just to fulfil the minimal obligation of hanging. And here, they allowed themselves to leave the bodies hanging for six months. All of this was Shaul’s punishment for injuring a few Givonim—not even for seriously injuring them, but for having caused them some [financial] harm. 
    It is forbidden to kill a gentile for no reason, or even to cause him to suffer. This is not a time of war. Vengeance? This is not our job. “The L–rd of vengeance, Hashem”—this is Hashem’s job. Only during a time of war is it allowed to kill, and even then, just to kill. It is still forbidden to abuse, as the Midrash relates, (Mishlei, 29:9) on the verse, “’Whether he rage or laugh, there is no rest.’ I laughed at you during the days of King Amatzya, as it says, ‘And Amatzya strengthened himself, and led his people, and went to the Valley of Salt.’” (Midrash Eicha, Introduction 10).  He went to fight with the Edomites who were then in the area (of the Dead Sea) in the Judean desert. Afterward, they went from there to Rome. “What is the ‘Valley of Salt’? In exchange for the heaps of salt, the ones who were coerced in war and the ten thousand lives that the men of Yehuda took captive. They brought the captives to the top of a precipice and threw them off… At that moment, Hashem said, ‘I decreed that gentiles should be put to death by the sword alone.’” True, during a time of war it is permissible to kill—but to kill in such cruel and unusual way, by throwing off a cliff?  “And they brought them to the top of the precipice and threw them down. They were smashed to pieces and found no rest.  At that moment, Hashem said, ‘The ones who did this here will be exiled.’” 
    The Churban was decreed even from the days of Amatzya. Amatzya lived during the same period as Yeshaya the prophet. Amotz and Amatzya were brothers. After him, there were other kings—Uziyahu and Yotam who were righteous—for sixty-eight years until the wicked Achaz ruled, but the edict was already decreed during the days of Amatzya. Ultimately, this Amatzya, after he was victorious over the Edomites, took to their idolatry and began to serve it. Hashem sent the prophet to say to him: Does it make any sense for you to go and worship the gods that you conquered? You see yourself that they were unable to help the Edomites, and now you go to serve them? 
    Precisely now, gentiles from all over the world are arriving—both Christians and Moslems, everyone together.  Ramadan began the week of Chanuka, when we read in the preceding Haftara (the Haftara for the first Shabbos Chanuka, Zecharya 2:15), “And many nations will join themselves to Hashem on that day.”  The Haftara is always a manifestation of minor prophecy (Ruach HaKodesh) with regards to what will happen in the coming week. Just like the Haftara that we read before the satellite fell (the Haftara of Parshas Vayishlach, Ovadia 1:4), “Even if you should soar aloft like the eagle, and set your nest among the stars, from there I will bring you down, says Hashem.”  They’ve already stopped talking about it, they’re so embarrassed. 
     During the first week of Ramadan, two hundred thousand Arabs arrived at the Temple Mount.  Last week, there were three hundred thousand. This week, there already were four hundred thousand, and next week, the last Friday, five hundred thousand—half a million—will come. Most of them fast during Ramadan. Even though there are those that eat, the majority of them fast. You can see it—by four o’clock in the afternoon they haven’t got the energy to carry loads. Next week, half a million Arabs will come, and the Christians expect two million. Next Shabbos could be a world war. It comes out exactly on the last day of Ramadan and the beginning of the Christian festival. I don’t understand why both religions decided to hold their respective holidays on the same day, why didn’t the Christians set their festival for the twenty–fourth of December, which is the real birthday? They changed the calendar, like the calendar “Davar Bi’Ito” discusses. They say that on this day, their savior was born. They chose that day in particular because it is the first day when the day begins to lengthen (winter solstice). However, if you check, you will see that, although the sunrise is still getting later, the sunset is getting even later than that. Most Christians celebrate the birthday in December, but some observe the sixth of January—which is exactly the same holiday, but on a later date. Aside from that, they have another festival on the first of January. But that is unrelated to the birthday; it is from the days of Julius Caesar, forty years yet before the beginning of the common era. 
    One must be careful not to cause any gentile to suffer, not even an Arab. Not to take revenge on them. In the evening prayer we say a blessing using Hashem’s Name and mentioning His Kingship “HaMa’ariv Aravim” (a play on words—“Who makes the Arabs, Arabs”). You don’t have to fear walking through Damascus Gate, as long as before you do, you accept upon yourself the four death penalties of the Beis Din—stoning, burning, death by the sword, and strangulation. Then you can go through and no one can harm you. It is forbidden to cause any gentile to suffer, even to take the air out of their tires. Rebbe Nachman says in Sefer HaMiddos, “The blessing of a gentile should not be a small matter in your eyes.” On the contrary, if it is possible to help them, if you see a gentile who is in trouble and needs your help, help him.
    As in the Gemara’s story of Rabbi Pinchas ben Yair who went to redeem Jewish captives and needed to cross the Ginai River. “He said to the river, ‘Ginai, split your waters for me that I may cross.’ The river said to him, ‘You are going to do the Will of your Master, and I am going to do the Will of my Master. With you, it is uncertain whether or not you will be successful. With me, it is certain,’ (i.e. therefore I should not have to open for you.) He said to the river, ‘If you don’t split for me, I will decree upon you that your waters will never flow again.’  It split for him. Then came the man who was accompanying him, who was carrying wheat for Pesach (“You must take care that the wheat should not get wet and become leaven.”—Rashi.) Rabbi Pinchas said to the river , ‘Split it for him also.’ Because he was involved in a mitzvah, he split it for him. Then the merchant, (“an Arab”—Rashi,)  who had joined up with them on the way, came to the river. So Rabbi Pinchas said to the river, ‘Split for him also.’ In order that people shouldn’t say, ‘This is how the Jews treat the non Jews, who accompany them,’ he split it for him as well,”  (Chullin 7a).
    There is a discussion here in the Gemara as to whether the river split three times, separately for each one, or one time for all of them together. Even so, according to both opinions, Rabbi Pinchas ben Yair was greater than Moshe Rabbeinu. The miracle was greater in this case because, when Moshe split the sea, he had the merit of the six hundred thousand with him. For Rabbi Pinchas ben Yair, even if the river had only split once, it was without the six hundred thousand. In every generation there are Tzaddikim on the level of Moshe Rabbeinu, as Rabbi Pinchas ben Yair was.  He split the river for an Arab, just so that people shouldn’t say, “That is how the Jews only take care of themselves, and abandon the ones who accompany them.” The fact that the gentiles are now starting to come to Israel in greater and greater numbers is a sign of the closeness of the final redemption, and if they are worthy they will repent here. If not, they will have a great downfall. The Chasam Sofer says this in his comments on Parshas Behaalosecha on the very same Haftara (of the first Shabbos Chanuka), “And many nations will join themselves to Hashem on that day, and will be My people; And I will dwell in your midst.”  By virtue of  “many nations will join themselves,” therefore, “I will dwell in your midst.” And through this, “And Hashem will inherit Yehuda as His portion in the holy land, and will choose Yerushalayim again,” will come to be. "Yehuda" is refering to all of the Land of Israel, this is just, “And Hashem will inherit Yehuda as His portion.”  But regarding Yerushalayim and those who merit to live in Yerushalayim, the verse says about them, “and will choose Yerushalayim again.” This is an altogether different level.

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