By: Chaya Sora Jungreis-Gertzulin

The Hebrew language is like no other, it is Lashon HaKodesh, the Holy Tongue. Its words are not just a combination of letters, but each word is holy, with the power to transmit meaningful messages.

Kedem in Hebrew means past. A similar sounding word, kadimah, means forward, onward. Both kedem and kadimah share the same root, “kuf-daled-mem”, yet have opposite meanings.

Herein lies an important message. As a nation, we learn from, and build upon our past. As we say in Tehillim, “mizkainim esbonan, from wise elders, I gain understanding. (Tehillim 119:100). Our past is not to be forgotten, but is the foundation of our future, the basis of who we are, and where we are going in life.

This Shabbos, we say “chazak” upon the completion of Sefer Shemos, the book that tells of the making of our nation.

Shemos begins with Yaakov and his family arriving to Mitzrayim. The very first pasuk tells us that they came “ish u’veiso, each man and his household”, stressing upon us the importance of a bayis, a strong Jewish home.

Before the difficult years of slavery even began, the Torah teaches us how Bnei Yisroel survived – the power of the Jewish home. As a nation, we have been exiled from one country to another, encountering many difficult challenges, facing a multitude of enemies. Yet, we remained strong.

The Talmud tells us “In the merit of the righteous women our ancestors were redeemed from Egypt.” Courageous women, filled with emunah and bitachon, who built homes that became spiritual fortresses.

Yemei kedem, Days of old. The women turned to the teachings of Sara Imeinu for inspiration in creating their homes. Rashi in Parshas Chaya Sora tells us that three blessings permeated in Sora’s tent.

First, the Shabbos lights remained lit from week to week. Aish, fire, spelled aleph, shin. Aleph for ahava, love; and shin for simcha, joy. Sora’s tent was imbued with ahava and simcha.

Second, Sora’s challa remained fresh from week to week. Bread is symbolic of the physical, the material things in life. Sora was happy with what she had. Nothing was “stale” in her eyes. Everything remained fresh. It was all good.

Third, a cloud of HaShem constantly hovered over Sora’s tent. Her tent was one of kedusha, sanctity, of sholom bayis, peace and tranquility.

The Midrash cites that our fathers were redeemed from Egypt because they didn’t change their names, language, and clothes.

Names – to be able to identify proudly as a Jew. To know who we are and what we stand for. Our Jewish names connect us to our past, linking us to our zeides and bubbas. A reminder that the chain continues.

Language – we are judged by how we speak, the words we choose, the subjects we discuss.

Clothes – the way we dress identifies us. To dress in a manner that brings honor to HaShem’s people.

So which was it that merited the exodus? Was it the righteous women, or because Bnei Yisroel remained true to its identity?

Our sages teach that the two are in essence one. For it was the nashim tzidkonios, the righteous women who made sure that their families remained strong. Brave women who protected their homes from the traps of assimilation.

Perhaps the letters of the words bayis – beis, yud, suf, say it all. Beis and yud equal twelve, representing the twelve shevatim, tribes. A reminder that we are an am echad, one nation that must be unified, being there for one another. Suf represents the Torah. To ensure Jewish continuity, we must live a life of Torah values.

Another reference to bayis is found later in Sefer Shemos. In teaching the laws of the Korban Pesach, the Torah uses the term “seh labayis, a lamb for each household”. And, parshas Pekudei closes with the words Beis Yisroel, rather than Bnei Yisroel, conveying once again the importance of the Jewish home.

We are living in challenging times. We are surrounded by winds and storms that threaten the very fabric of our homes and our identity. Now, more than ever, it’s essential to maintain a secure bayis – for ourselves, our families, our future. Internalizing the lessons of Sora and our ancestors in Egypt, give us the tools to fortify our Jewish homes.

When Sora died, the three blessings she experienced ceased, only to return upon Yitzchak’s marriage to Rivka.

Like the tent of Sara that went dark, we too are living in times of darkness. We should all strive to be Rivkas. As Rivka brought the brachos back into the tent, we can bring light and healing to the world. Each one of us can make a difference. Be a Rivka.

Since October 7, Jews worldwide have increased their davening, keeping mitzvos, doing chesed and reciting Tehillim. I just read an article entitled “Crying at the Waldorf”. The author shares how he and his wife saved up to celebrate a special Shabbos at the Jerusalem Waldorf. Friday night, he spotted a mixed group of guests hanging out together. He approached them and found out that their brother/son/father was killed four months earlier in the line of duty in Gaza. The previous weekend, the deceased hero’s wife gave birth to a baby boy. The bris would be on Shabbos morning.

Shai Graucher is an amazing man with a generous heart. He has become the “face of chesed” since the war began. With the help of numerous kind-hearted people, he has spent the past five months helping countless soldiers, the injured, displaced families, families who lost relatives in the war and families of hostages in the most remarkable ways. He took it upon himself to help the young widowed mother, and arranged for a Shabbos bris. But not just your ordinary bris. He booked rooms and a full Shabbos experience at the Waldorf for her entire extended family.

The author sought out Shai, but he was nowhere to be found. Finally, on Shabbos morning, he encountered Shai at davening, and noticed that he was wearing a hospital bracelet. When asked if all was OK, Shai responded that his wife had given birth that very Friday night, and that he walked from the hospital to the hotel just to join the bris and be sure that all the arrangements were in proper order.

The bris was a truly emotional event. Not just for the family, but for the multitude of ordinary hotel guests – and even many outsiders – who joined, just to give honor to the family and pay tribute to their fallen loved one. As the author writes “none of us knew each other, but for just a moment, we were so close”.

There is something each one of us can do to make a difference. We are davening for “acheinu kol beis Yisroel”, emphasizing the bayis, the Jewish home. We are all truly one bais Yisroel. We are all part of one family. Through our tefillos and chesed, may we soon realize our fervent hope that HaShem takes us “meiafeilah l’orah, from darkness to light”.

Shabbat Shalom!

Chaya Sora

Chaya Sora can be reached at [email protected]

This article was written L’zecher Nishmas/In Memory Of HaRav Meshulem ben HaRav Osher Anshil HaLevi, zt”l and Rebbetzin Esther bas HaRav Avraham HaLevi, zt”l