This week, we’re reading a double perasha of Tazria. And Mesorah. These are two parshiyot that, at first glance, seem… not exactly glamorous.

(Based on the Teachings of the Shvilei Pinchas, our teacher, Rabbi Pinchas Friedman)

They’re all about strange skin conditions — tzara’at — rituals of impurity, offerings involving birds and wood and wool and hyssop.

But hidden within all this is a breathtaking teaching — a teaching about speech, pride, humility, and ultimately: finding our center point.

First, a little background:

The Torah teaches

אָדָ֗ם כִּֽי־יִהְיֶ֤ה
בְעוֹר־בְּשָׂרוֹ֙ שְׂאֵ֤ת אֽוֹ־סַפַּ֙חַת֙ א֣וֹ בַהֶ֔רֶת וְהָיָ֥ה בְעוֹר־בְּשָׂר֖וֹ
לְנֶ֣גַע צָרָ֑עַת וְהוּבָא֙ אֶל־אַהֲרֹ֣ן הַכֹּהֵ֔ן א֛וֹ אֶל־אַחַ֥ד מִבָּנָ֖יו הַכֹּהֲנִֽים׃

When a person has on the skin of the body a swelling, a rash, or a discoloration, and it develops into a scaly affection on the skin of the body, it shall be
reported to Aaron the priest or to one of his sons, the priests.

Chag Haatzma'ut Same'ach inspired by an essay by Rabbi Shabtai Sabato

YOM HAATZMA’UT page 297

Today, we celebrate not only a date on the calendar or a declaration from 1948—we celebrate the beginning of the fulfillment of a 2,000-year-old dream. A dream born in the heart of Yaakov Avinu. Carried by David HaMelech. Whispered in the wind of every exile. And now, with Hashem’s kindness, unfolding before our very eyes in Eretz Yisrael.

Let us journey together through history, Torah, exile, and return, guided by the
teachings of HaRav Rabbi Shabtai Sabato . His powerful words help us understand what we’re really celebrating today.

The Seruf for Iyar is a Yud and Heh followed by a Heh and Vav based on the pasuk: “יתהלל המתהלל השכל וידוע אותי” — “Let the one who praises, praise only through understanding and knowing Me.”

Based on the Teachings of:

The Peri Tzaddik (פרי צדיק) is the name of a famous sefer written by Rabbi Tzadok HaKohen of Lublin (1823–1900). He was a major Chassidic thinker, originally from a Lithuanian, non-Chassidic background, but later became a close disciple of the Izbicer Rebbe, the Mei HaShiloach.

AND Sefer Chayyim VaChesed by Rebbe Chaim Chaykl of Amdur (ר' חיים חייקל מאמדור), one of the great early Chassidic Rebbes from Lithuania, a talmid of the Maggid of Mezeritch, and a powerful force in spreading Chassidut into the Lithuanian world. It appears that the sefer was printed posthumously, in 1891 — long after his petirah — based on manuscripts and traditions from his students.

This Rosh Chodesh Iyar, we journey into the secret of healing through small, mindful actions. Discover how listening, da’at, and refining our daily life connect
even the simplest moments back to Hashem — and reveal hidden light.

Chodesh Iyar, we journey into the secret of healing through small, mindful
actions. Discover how listening, da’at, and refining our daily life connect
even the simplest moments back to Hashem — and reveal hidden light.

Parshat Shemini, a parsha that holds an astonishing secret: the exact midpoint of the Torah — both in words and in letters — is found here. But it’s not just a cool
trivia fact. This secret reveals a deeper message about Torah, support for
Torah, and the spiritual roles we play.

The Torah's Midpoints — More Than Math In Vayikra 10:16, we find the phrase: 'ואת שעיר
החטאת דרש דרש משה והנה שרף' “Moshe inquired insistently about the goat
of the sin-offering, and behold, it had been burned.'

Now here’s
the gematria-level nugget: the word 'דרש' appears twice
— and this double appearance marks the midpoint of the words of the Torah.

Then in Vayikra 11:42, in the list of forbidden creeping creatures, we read: 'כל
הולך על גחון' “Anything that moves on its belly...' The letter 'vav'
in the word 'גחון' is the midpoint of the letters of the Torah — and it’s traditionally written larger than normal. The Gemara in Kiddushin 30a and Maseches Sofrim teach us that our sages were called 'sofrim' — counters — precisely because they counted every letter and word.

But why would Hashem arrange for these midpoints to land here?

Today’s parashah is Shemini—a portion filled with fire and silence, Divine closeness, and the holiness of separation. But today, we’re going to zoom in on something subtle. Almost hidden. A moment tucked into the laws of kashrut, that
carries a whisper of deep mussar.

And it
begins with a story.

A 24-year-old boy is sitting on the train with his father.

Suddenly, he turns to his dad and shouts out, excitedly:

“Dad, Dad, look outside the window! The trees—they’re rushing past us!”

An elderly couple sitting nearby looks over, clearly confused and even pitying. Why is a grown man acting like a child?

A few minutes later, the boy shouts again:

“Dad! The clouds—they’re running with us!”

The father just smiles. The elderly couple can’t help themselves. One of them leans over and whispers: “Maybe you should take your son to see a doctor…?”

The father smiles gently and says,

“Actually—we just came from the doctor.”

“You see, my son has been blind since birth. And this—this is the first day of his life that he’s ever been able to see.”

Some of us have the practice that before doing a mitzvah—whether it’s putting on tefillin, lighting candles, or studying Torah—we pause and say a short tefillah: LeShem Yichud Kudsha Brich Hu u’Shechintei. A quiet moment to dedicate what we’re about to do to Hashem, to unite the spiritual worlds.

And even if we don’t say the whole LeShem Yichud, many of us still whisper a familiar line: Vihi Noam Hashem Elokeinu aleinu, u’ma’aseh yadeinu konenah aleinu, u’ma’aseh yadeinu konenehu.

We say it before the mitzvah. But if you look at the pasuk, it’s actually a prayer for what comes after—after the work is done, after the effort is complete.

So why begin with it?

Let’s explore that—because I think it reveals something profound about how we bring Hashem into our lives. Not just when we finish a project or succeed in something meaningful—but from the very first moment we take action.

And to understand that, we have to look at the very first time this pasuk was ever spoken—by none other than Moshe Rabbeinu.

This week’s parsha—Parshat Shemini—

We begin this weeks perasha

וַֽיְהִי֙ בַּיּ֣וֹם הַשְּׁמִינִ֔י קָרָ֣א מֹשֶׁ֔ה לְאַהֲרֹ֖ן וּלְבָנָ֑יו וּלְזִקְנֵ֖י יִשְׂרָאֵֽל׃

On the eighth day Moses called Aaron and his sons, and the elders of Israel.

Inspired by Rabbeynu Bachya and Ramban, please join me on a journey—a journey through numbers. But not just any numbers. Two numbers that sit quietly in our tradition, and yet, they pulse with transcendent meaning.

Eight. And fifty.

Let’s start here: