Parsha with Rabbi David Bibi

What do two identical goats — one brought to the Holy ofHolies, the other cast into the wilderness — reveal about the deepest secret ofteshuvah?  Join us to discover how Yom Kippur teaches us to climbfrom fear to love, and even transform sins into merits.   LeZecher Nishmat my grandfather who passed away as we entered Yom Kippur, David Gindi HaKohen Ben Sarina and his great great grandson, Shimon Chai Ben Moriyah Bracha Devora 

 36 Hours Before Rosh HaShanah - The King is here. Hashem is knocking. Don’t miss the moment. Join us for “The Elevator Up – Answering the Knock Before the Gates Close.”    Let me share a story that Rabbi Elimelech Biderman bringsdown, one that hits straight to the heart.     The Krasna Rav tells a story which brings these words ofRashi alive.     There was a boy in Bnei Brak losing his eyesight. Hiscondition was deteriorating rapidly. The best doctors in Israel shook theirheads: nothing more we can do.     

Why do the Righteous suffer and the Wicked prosper - from Moshe’s glimpse of the tefillin’s knot to Rabbi Akiva’s vision of the crown — and discover how to enter Rosh HaShanah seeing every decree as הטוב והמטיב. Based on Rav Pinchas Friedman, The Shvilei Pinchas .... As we mention, this is a re-recording of the Seuda Shelishi Class - A dear friend who attended the class wrote and I am humbled by his words: I want to tell you how truly grateful I am. You are not just my rabbi — you are my David. The Devar Torah you gave on tefillin wiped me out; I had no idea about the concept of the strap of chesed and It pains me that I wasn’t taught this long long ago. It’s a real loss that so many yeshivot don’t teach students the deep, inner meaning of tefillin. Thank you for opening my eyes and my heart.  רצון שתמשיך להאיר את דרכנו בתורתך הקדושה בכבוד רב ובתודה גדולה

As Moshe gathers every Jew — leaders and laborers, children and converts — he reminds us that נִצָּבִים is not passive standing, but purposeful positioning: a charge renewed each Rosh HaShanah for every generation.

 Ki Tavo – Rav Avraham Pam and The Gift of Time     This week’s parashah, Ki Tavo, begins with the mitzvah ofbikkurim—bringing the first fruits to Yerushalayim. The farmer didn’t justdeliver the fruits. He made a declaration, retelling the story of our people:“Arami oved avi”—from Lavan chasing Ya‘akov, to the slavery in Mitzrayim, toHashem redeeming us with a mighty hand.     Why? Because gratitude is not just giving—it’sremembering. We don’t only thank Hashem for the fruit; we thank Him for ourhistory, for those who came before us, for the gift of time itself.     And that brings me to a story.     Rabbi Yaakov Moskowitz once shared a remarkable story heheard directly from Rabbi Ya’akov Mills, the rabbi of Young Israel of Memphis.Rabbi Mills had learned in Yeshivat Chofetz Chaim in Queens before hismarriage. Every Shabbat, he and a few fellow students would travel to Brooklynto staff a group home for men with special needs. During the week they hadnurses and aides; on Shabbat, these bochurim became their companions—bringingthem to shul, singing zemirot, and sharing meals.     In that home was a man named Baruch. He was about seventyyears old, with developmental disabilities, but very much part of the Shabbattable. One Friday night, Baruch asked if he could share a devar Torah. Ofcourse, they encouraged him. He stood up, spoke some words about theparashah—not very coherent, but heartfelt. Everyone applauded: “Yasher koach,Baruch!”     And Baruch smiled and said, “I’m so glad you liked it.You know… Rav Pam also liked my devar Torah.”     At first, they thought it was just his imagination. Weekafter week he would repeat the pattern—say a few words, get cheered, theninsist, “Rav Pam also liked it.” They assumed he had once seen Rav Avraham Pam,the Rosh Yeshiva of Torah Vodaas, maybe even shook his hand, and in his mind,Rav Pam “liked” his Torah.     But Rabbi Mills was curious. One week he arrived early onFriday afternoon. And to his shock, he saw Baruch holding the phone, deliveringhis devar Torah. Rabbi Mills tiptoed upstairs, picked up the extension, andlistened. He heard Baruch conclude—and then he heard a warm, gentle voicerespond:     “Baruch, that was such a beautiful devar Torah. Thank youso much for sharing it with me.”     It was the unmistakable voice of the gadol hador, RavAvraham Pam, zikhrono livrakhah.     Rabbi Mills later investigated. He discovered thatBaruch’s family had once davened in Rav Pam’s shul. And for thirty years—everysingle Friday afternoon—Rav Pam had picked up the phone, listened to Baruch’sdevar Torah, and encouraged him.     Think about that. Thirty years. On Erev Shabbat, when theRosh Yeshiva of Torah Vodaas—shouldering the worries of the Jewish people—had athousand demands on his time. He still made time for one lonely Jew.     That is bikkurim. Hashem gives us the gift of time, andthe question is: what do we give back?     Sometimes we say, “I’m too busy.” But if Rav Pam couldcarry the burdens of Klal Yisrael and still make time, can we not give a fewminutes to lift someone’s spirits, to call a friend, to listen to a child, tobe present for another Jew?     And when we do, we fulfill the blessing in this week’sparashah:     “וְשָׂמַחְתָּ בְּכָל־הַטּוֹב אֲשֶׁר נָתַן לְךָ ה׳ אֱלֹקֶיךָוּלְבֵיתֶךָ”  —“Then you will rejoice in all the good that Hashem yourGod has given you and your household.”     .  

The Boat That Saves Us - Ki Tabo Ki Tavo el ha’aretz… — When you come to the Land… (Devarim 26:1). This week’s parashah begins with a mitzvah of gratitude: bringing the first fruits to the Beit HaMikdash. For us, it also stirs deep gratitude — that so many of our children and grandchildren are already settled in Eretz Yisrael. Baruch Hashem, the dream of two thousand years has become their daily life. And yet, alongside the joy is a touch of sadness. FaceTime is nice, but it doesn’t replace a hug. And I each morning, I see Shimon’s face in my mind’s eye — my guiding angel.  And when my friend Abie, following Irving and family’s Aliyah, joined the “commuting to visit the grandchildren club,” I smiled. Because every trip, every hug, every birthday, is a reminder: our destiny is there. May we all one day “commute” permanently. Reading through my parsha notes for Ki Tabo, i had to pause and acknowledge again the loss of Rabbi Berel Wein זצ״ל — a teacher to so many of us.  His voice shaped a generation. His perspective was unique, his humor sharp, and his weaving of Torah with Jewish history one of a kind. For many of us, his cassette tapes — yes, those plastic rectangles we wore out in our car stereos - from the Destiny Foundation, were for years, our daily Torah. Act I – Fairy Tales in the Talmud Rabbi Wein had a gift for turning even the strangest aggadah into a mirror of Jewish history. Take Bava Batra 73b, where Rabba bar bar Ḥana describes a ship that landed on what seemed like an island. Grass grew on it. They lit a fire. But it was a fish’s back! The fire burned, the fish flipped, and only the nearby boat saved them from drowning. Rabbi Wein would say: this is not a fairy tale. This is our history. We Jews convince ourselves we are on solid ground. We build, we invest, we imagine permanence. But in reality? We are standing on the back of a fish. One shift, one fire, and we’re tossed into the sea. The only salvation is the boat — the Torah, the mitzvot, the covenant with Hashem. Act II – Beams and Guarantees He once told of his Monsey years, building a new synagogue. Canadian beams came with an 80-year guarantee. Someone pointed out Finnish beams with a 300-year guarantee. Rabbi Wein asked: Are we planning for 300 years in exile? This wasn’t a joke. He remembered Detroit: Jews built a synagogue, then moved. Built another, then moved. Each time, they sold the old building to a church. At one point, the pastor asked to join their building committee — since eventually, he’d be buying their next synagogue too! That was Rabbi Wein’s sharp eye: we think we are building on bedrock. In truth, history proves otherwise. Act III – The Human Parallel One Yom Kippur in his Jerusalem shul, a beloved chazan faltered. A diabetic reaction left him unable to continue selichot. He sat down, they gave him something to drink. He was shaken. Rabbi Wein reflected: that’s life. One small imbalance, and a man collapses. We are so fragile. Look at fortunes built in gold and oil, fortunes gone in a generation. Look at empires — Rome, Spain, Germany — each thought eternal, each flipped over like Rabba bar bar Ḥana’s fish. And so he would hammer it in: The only thing that lasts is the boat. The boat is Torah. The boat is mitzvot. The boat is kindness. The boat is Hashem’s truth. Act IV – Ki Tavo and the Land Now return to our parashah. Ki tavo el ha’aretz… “When you come into the Land.” The mitzvah of bikkurim is not only gratitude for fruit; it is gratitude for permanence. Unlike the exile, this land is not a fish. It is a promise. Yet to the world, Israel looks like the most unstable “island” on earth — surrounded by hostility, tiny, fragile. But Rabbi Wein would remind us: this is Hashem’s boat. It may look shaky, but it is the one place guaranteed by prophecy, covenant, and eternity. Act V – The One Request As Rosh Hashanah approaches, we arrive with lists. Health, livelihood, success, peace. But let me ask you: if you could only request one thing, what would it be? Rabba bar bar Ḥana gave us the answer: Stay in the boat. That’s it. If we and our children are in the boat, anchored in Torah and mitzvot, connected to Hashem, we are safe. That boat is our synagogue, our family table, our little slice of Yerushalayim, our bond across generations. Whether shopping in Machane Yehuda to fill a fridge in Jerusalem or singing Adon Olam with a three-year-old sabra in Tel Aviv — that is permanence. Closing – Rabbi Wein’s Legacy Rabbi Wein once said that history is Hashem’s way of showing us the patterns we refuse to see. Exile is a fish. Israel is the boat. So in his memory, let’s live his message. Don’t trust the guarantees of 300-year beams in exile. Trust the covenant that has already lasted 3,000 years. “וְשָׂמַחְתָּ בְּכָל־הַטּוֹב אֲשֶׁר נָתַן לְךָ ה׳ אֱלֹהֶיךָ וּלְבֵיתֶךָ אַתָּה וְהַלֵּוִי וְהַגֵּר אֲשֶׁר בְּקִרְבֶּךָ” “Then you shall rejoice in all the good which Hashem your God has given you, and your household — you, the Levite, and the stranger in your midst.” Amen. David 

 In this week’s Daf Yomi (Horayot 5a), the Gemaradiscusses the status of a tevul yom — one who immersed in a mikveh but has notyet waited for sunset.     The Torah says explicitly (Vayikra 11:32):      וְטָמֵאעַד־הָעָרֶב וְטָהֵר  “…he shall be tamei until evening, and then he shall betahor.”     The question jumps off the page:  If immersion in the mikveh purifies, why is it notenough?  Why must the Torah insist on waiting for הֶעֶרֶב שֶׁמֶשׁ?     The Gemara   • Horayot 5a: discusses a tevul yomwho is still lacking ha‘arev shemesh and cannot yet eat kodashim. He has acted,but his taharah is incomplete until the day itself ends.   • The same principle appears in othermasechtot:   • Zevachim 22a: “טבול יום חסר הערב שמש”— the tevul yom is still missing sunset.   • Chagigah 20b: a tevul yom is in an“in-between” state — not tamei enough to forbid everything, but not tahorenough for kodashim.   • Nazir 16b: compares tevul yom toone who has not yet brought his korban; the process is incomplete until allsteps are done.     So halachically: tevillah begins the process, but ha‘arevshemesh completes it.     Ramban     The Ramban (on Vayikra 11:39) writes:      “הטבילהמטהרת את הגוף מן הטומאה, אבל הערב שמש הוא טהרת היום.”  “The immersion purifies the body from the tumah, but thesetting of the sun purifies the day.”     The mikveh removes the person’s impurity. But the dayitself, the time in which tumah occurred, must also be cleansed — and that canonly happen when the sun sets.     Rashba     The Rashba (Torat HaBayit, Beit 4, Sha’ar 1):      “הטבילהמסירה רוב הטומאה, אבל נשאר רשימה עד שיעריב שמשו.”  “Immersion removes most of the tumah, but a trace remainsuntil the sun sets.”     Like a stain — most is washed away, but a faint marklingers until the cycle of time itself clears it completely.     Maharal     The Maharal (Tiferet Yisrael, ch. 20):      “איןהאדם נחשב חדש עד שיחזור העולם למצבו מחדש, וזהו בהערב שמש.”  “A person is not considered truly new until the worlditself renews, and this occurs with the setting of the sun.”     The mikveh is rebirth, but a new creation is only sealedwhen the world itself turns the page with nightfall.     Zohar and Kabbalah     The Zohar (Shemini 41a):      “טומאהדבקה ביומא, ובשקיעת שמשא מסתלקא טומאה מיני.”  “Tumah clings to the day itself, and with the setting ofthe sun the tumah departs from it.”     The Arizal explains: tumah attaches to the dinim (thejudgments) of that day. Only when the sun sets, and the gevurah of that daydissolves, can taharah be complete.     Chassidut     The Sfat Emet (Emor, 5643):      “הטבילההיא אתערותא דלתתא, אבל הערב שמש הוא אתערותא דלעילא.”  “Immersion is the awakening from below, but the settingof the sun is the awakening from above.”     We begin the work, but Hashem must complete it.     The Life Lesson     This halachah is a parable for life.  Sometimes we must act with all our strength — plunge intothe waters, do the mitzvah, cry the tefillah.  But we cannot finish the job alone.  Only Hashem can close the day and open a new one.     The Tears of a Grandfather     I thought about this when we spoke recently of that younggirl on TJJ.  She came to our home on Sukkot, curious, holding a lulavand etrog for the very first time.  Her great-grandfather was a holy man.  Can you imagine his pain in this world? Watching hisdescendants drift, never living to see his great-grandchildren return.     But he did his part. He cried, he prayed, he plantedseeds. That was his mikveh.     And then he had to wait.  Because time is only relative to us.  Hashem decides when the ha‘arev shemesh will come — whenthe cycle will turn, and the tumah of that day will pass.     And then, a generation or two later, a granddaughterawakens. She steps into a sukkah, curious, ready to return.  That is Hashem finishing the work. That is the sunsetting and taharah becoming whole.     Takeaway     The mikveh is us. The sunset is Hashem.  We must immerse, act, and cry.  But only Hashem can bring the evening, close the page,and finish what we began.     So in our struggles, our hopes for our children, and ourtefillot for Am Yisrael — do your part. Immerse yourself in the work.  And trust that in His time, Hashem will bring the eveningand complete the taharah.     

Yesterday , in Parashat Ki Teitzei, the Torah said:   כִּי־תֵצֵא לַמִּלְחָמָהעַל־אֹיְבֶיךָ  “When you go out to war against your enemies.”    This week, in Parashat Ki Tavo, the language shifts:      וְהָיָה כִּי־תָבוֹאאֶל־הָאָרֶץ  “And it shall be when you come into the Land…”   The transition is profound.   • Ki Teitzei is about going out—facing struggle and battle, both external and internal.   • Ki Tavo is about coming in—arriving at blessing, permanence, and sanctity.     The mekubalim explain: if you want to “come in” to blessing,you must first “go out” for others. When you lift another Jew, you are reallylifting the sparks bound to your own soul. And the Ḥasidic masters add: whenyou fight for someone else’s Shabbat, someone else’s connection, Hashem fights for your own.     

 The Torah tells us:  לֹא־יָבֹא עַמּוֹנִי וּמוֹאָבִי בִּקְהַל ה׳… עַל־דְּבַר אֲשֶׁרלֹא־קִדְּמוּ אֶתְכֶם בַּלֶּחֶם וּבַמַּיִם בַּדֶּרֶךְ בְּצֵאתְכֶם מִמִּצְרָיִם וַאֲשֶׁרשָׂכַר עָלֶיךָ אֶת־בִּלְעָם בֶּן־בְּעוֹר… (דברים כ״ג:ד–ה).    “An Ammonite or Moabite shall not enter into the congregation of Hashem… because they did not greet you with bread and water on the way when you left Egypt, and because they hired Bil‘am son of Be‘or to curse you.”    Now wait. Let’s be honest. Which crime sounds worse? Moavhired Bil‘am to curse, to destroy, to annihilate. Amon? They just didn’t bringout some bread and water. At worst, a breach of etiquette.   So why does the Torah treat them equally? Why are they both forever excluded from joining Am Yisrael?  

“Two Wars and the Calf in Between” — uncover why the Torah repeats כִּי־תֵצֵא לַמִּלְחָמָה twice, and what it teaches us about Elul, seliḥot, and responsibility for one another. he first appearance is in Shoftim: כִּי־תֵצֵא לַמִּלְחָמָה עַל־אֹיְבֶיךָ וְרָאִיתָ סוּס וָרֶכֶב עַם רַב מִמְּךָ לֹא־תִירָא מֵהֶם כִּי ה׳ אֱלֹהֶיךָ עִמָּךְ הַמַּעַלְךָ מֵאֶרֶץ מִצְרָיִם. (דְּבָרִים כ׳:א׳) Here the Torah speaks about a communal war — the entire nation arrayed against the enemy. The Kohen gives his powerful speech: “Do not fear, for Hashem is with you.” The Malbim points out: this refers to a milchemet mitzvah — an obligatory war of defense or conquest, commanded by Hashem. Holy and necessary — but dangerous. War means bloodshed, and bloodshed can desensitize a people. Which is why, immediately after this section, the Torah turns to eglah arufah. Eglah Arufah: The Calf and Responsibility for Blood The Torah describes: כִּי־יִמָּצֵא חָלָל בָּאֲדָמָה אֲשֶׁר ה׳ אֱלֹהֶיךָ נֹתֵן לְךָ לְרִשְׁתָּהּ נֹפֵל בַּשָּׂדֶה לֹא נוֹדַע מִי הִכָּהוּ… וְעָנוּ וְאָמְרוּ יָדֵינוּ לֹא שָׁפְכוּ אֶת־הַדָּם הַזֶּה וְעֵינֵינוּ לֹא רָאוּ. (דְּבָרִים כ״א:א׳–ז׳) A murdered body is found. The elders of the closest city must bring a calf, break its neck in a barren valley, and declare: “Our hands did not spill this blood, nor did our eyes see.” The Gemara Sotah (46b) asks: Who would ever suspect the elders of being murderers? Chazal explain: They are not saying, “We didn’t kill him.” They are saying, “We did not abandon him. We did not let him leave our city without food, without escort, without dignity.” The Kli Yakar writes: this is placed between two “wars” to remind us that even when blood is spilled on the battlefield, we must never cheapen life. If you become casual with life in war, you will eventually become casual at home. The Midrash Tanchuma (Shoftim 15) emphasizes: leaders bear responsibility. Even indirect neglect is guilt. And the Zohar (Shoftim 277a) deepens the point: when blood is spilled without clarity, it is a sign of an unresolved inner war — the yetzer hara still raging inside. The Torah shifts from the communal battlefield to the private struggle: כִּי־תֵצֵא לַמִּלְחָמָה עַל־אֹיְבֶיךָ וּנְתָנוֹ ה׳ אֱלֹהֶיךָ בְּיָדֶךָ וְשָׁבִיתָ שִׁבְיוֹ. (דְּבָרִים כ״א:י׳) The soldier sees a captive woman — the יְפַת תּוֹאַר — and desires her. But the Torah does not stop there. It traces the spiritual fallout step by step: 1. יְפַת תּוֹאַר – passion and impulse. 2. אִשָּׁה שְׂנוּאָה – the woman once desired becomes a hated wife. 3. בֵּן סוֹרֵר וּמוֹרֶה – the next generation spirals into rebellion and destruction.

You are Never Alone – Shoftim 5785  (Based on Rabbi Elimelech Biderman שליט״א, with additional story from Rabbi Shlomo Farhi שליט״א)   My friends, imagine this: you’re walking on a long, empty road. Not a car in sight. No phone service. No flashlight. The world is dark, the wind whistles, and your footsteps echo. Suddenly, you ask yourself—am I truly alone?  

From the arrogance of guests demanding beachfront huts to the discipline of kings carrying a Sefer Torah, today’s episode explores the Torah’s timeless cure for ego: remembering not who we are, but Whose we are.” 

 This week’s parashah, Shoftim, commands us to build asociety of justice. In a powerful op-ed, Charles Kushner warns French PresidentMacron about the rise of antisemitism in France. What does this teach us aboutthe mitzvah of dinim, the legacy of Dreyfus and Herzl, and the courage each ofus must find in Elul?  

In this Rosh Hodesh class we uncover the hidden Name of Elul — ה־ה־ו־י — concealed in a single pasuk of the Torah. Why is Elul’s Name spelled through endings, not beginnings? Why does it unite Binah with Malkhut? And how does this month become, in the words of the ḥasidic masters, the “neshamah yetera of the year”? Join us as we explore the Arizal, the Bnei Yissaschar, the Baal Shem Tov, and more, to prepare our hearts for the Yamim Nora’im 

Pre-recording of Seudah Shelishi class: “עֲשֵׂרתְּעַשֵּׂר – Tithing the Head, Ruling the Heart”  Join us as we explore how Ya‘akov Avinu’s pledge of ma‘aserteaches us to crown the mind over the heart, turning even the yetzer harainto a force for good through the joy of Torah.  Introduction  My friends,as we gather this Shabbat afternoon, I want to take you straight into the heartof our parashah — Parashat Re’eh based on the teachings of the ShvileiPinchas – Rabbi Pinchas Friedman   The Torahtells us: 'עַשֵּׂר תְּעַשֵּׂר אֵת כָּל תְּבוּאַת זַרְעֲךָ, הַיּוֹצֵא הַשָּׂדֶה,שָׁנָה שָׁנָה'— “You shall surely tithe all the produce of your seed that comes forth fromthe field year by year” (דברים יד, כב). The language is striking: עַשֵּׂרתְּעַשֵּׂר — a double command. Not just “give,” but “give and give again.”  Chazal inthe Midrash Tanchuma (Re’eh 11) tell us something astonishing: רַבִּי לֵוִיאוֹמֵר — Yisrael are purified before HaKadosh Barukh Hu through two greatmerits: the merit of Shabbat, and the merit of ma‘asrot.  Think aboutthat. We often speak about Shabbat as the great purifier of Am Yisrael — theday that uplifts, the day that sanctifies. But here the Midrash tells us: ma‘aser— giving a tenth of our produce, our income — has a similar purifying power.  And then theMidrash takes us deeper. It connects this mitzvah of tithing to another pasuklater in Devarim (כו, יא): 'וְשָׂמַחְתָּ בְּכָל הַטּוֹב, אֲשֶׁר נָתַן לְךָה’ אֱלֹקֶיךָ' — “And you shall rejoice in all the good that Hashemyour G-d has given you.”  But wait —Chazal immediately ask: What is this “טּוֹב” that the Torah speaks of?And they answer with a principle that reverberates through all of Torah: אֵיןטוֹב אֶלָּא תּוֹרָה — There is no true good except Torah.As it is written in Mishlei (ד, ב): 'כִּי לֶקַח טוֹב נָתַתִּי לָכֶם, תּוֹרָתִיאַל תַּעֲזֹבוּ'.  So here isthe puzzle that sets the stage for our shiur today:Why does the Torah tie together three seemingly different things — ma‘aser,simḥah, and Torah?Why does giving a tenth of our field’s produce connect me to the ultimate joyof “כָּל הַטּוֹב”?And why do Chazal insist that this “טוֹב” is not grain, not wine, not wealth —but only Torah?  This, myfriends, will be our journey this afternoon. We’re going to take a lesson fromthe Zohar and structure this class so that we move from level to level and in away travel together through seven halls, or seven heichalot, each oneopening a window into the mystery of עַשֵּׂר תְּעַשֵּׂר, the joy of וְשָׂמַחְתָּבְּכָל הַטּוֹב, and the eternal truth that אֵין טוֹב אֶלָּא תּוֹרָה. And along the way, as always, we’ll weavestories — from the Talmud, the Midrash, the great Chassidic masters — storiesthat will bring this journey to life, so that when we walk out of this BeitMidrash, we don’t just understand the mitzvah of ma‘aser, but we feel it, welive it, we carry its joy into our homes. 

In Memory of Rabbi Wein