Let’s begin where the parsha begins:

“וידבר ה’ אל משה בהר סיני לאמר…”

“And Hashem spoke to Moshe on Mount Sinai, saying…”

Rashi immediately asks: Why does the Torah specify Har Sinai in this context? Isn’t the entire Torah from Sinai? What’s the Torah trying to emphasize by attaching these particular laws—Shemitah, the sabbatical year—to the mountain?

And that’s our first clue: we’re not just being given agricultural guidelines. We’re being invited to climb back to the mountain.

As we return
to it today, let’s dedicate our learning—לרפואת יצחק בן מרגלית, and לעילוי
נשמת ניסים בן סלחה, the father of our dear friend Jessica. May the light of
Torah we uncover today bring healing, elevation, and connection.

Pesach Sheni is the holiday of second chances.

Lamah nigara? Why should we be left behind?

Amalek attacked us on Pesach Sheni. And when you
hear that, it’s like — whoa.

Of all the days Amalek could choose to attack… He chooses
the day that screams, “It’s never too late.”

Amalek stands for doubt.

The Torah hints at it: the word “Amalek” shares the same gematria as safek — doubt.

He’s the voice that whispers,

“You missed your shot.”

“You’re not worthy.”

“You can’t fix it.”

When Amalek attacks, Moshe goes up on a hill. And what does he do?

He raises his hands.

And the Torah says: “When Moshe’s hands were raised, Israel prevailed. And when he lowered them, Amalek prevailed.”

Now the Mishnah in Rosh Hashanah asks the obvious question:

Was it Moshe’s hands that won the war?

And the answer? No.

It was when the people looked up — when they lifted their hearts to Hashem — that’s when they had strength.

Moshe’s hands were a signal. A reminder. Look up.
Don’t fall into despair. This battle isn’t yours alone.

So what is Pesach Sheni really?

Perhaps it’s the most anti-Amalek day in the whole Torah.

Because Amalek says: “You’re done.”

And Pesach Sheni says: “You’ve just begun.”

Amalek says: “You missed it.”

Pesach Sheni says: “Come back in.”

Amalek tells you: “You’ll never get out of this.”

And Pesach Sheni says: “There’s always a second chance.”

And that’s how we fight Amalek. With emunah. With second chances. With lifted hands — and lifted hearts.

Before we begin today’s episode, I want to dedicate these words—to the ones who teach us love not through speeches, but through presence.

To all the wives, mothers, and grandmothers who build homes of kindness and strength…

And personally—to my own wife, on the occasion of our 40th wedding anniversary.
Forty years of building, of growing, of learning what love really means—together.

And on this special day, I’m thinking of our dear friends: Elliot and Sheffi, and Cary and Nancy—also celebrating forty years of marriage today. Ken yirbu—may their love continue to multiply, inspire, and shine.

This episode is for all of you.

Now let’s talk about a love that’s not just romantic—but redemptive.

Love like this…

There’s a kind of love the Torah calls holy.

Yesterday we read Parshat Kedoshim—“You shall be holy, for I, Hashem your God, am holy.” And as we mark Mother’s Day, the timing feels just right. Because the Torah doesn’t just teach us how to believe—it teaches us how to love. And what we find… is that real love isn't about feelings. It's about structure. It’s about presence. It’s about giving.

Lets take a deep dive into one of the most haunting and misunderstood moments in the Torah: the death of Nadav and Avihu, the sons of Aharon HaKohen.

We’ll follow their story from Parshat Shemini, through the intervening portions of Tazria and Metzora, all the way to this weeks Acharei Mot and Kedoshim—and reframe their deaths not as tragedy, but as the highest form of intimacy and divine love.

Along the way, we’ll weave together Tanach, Chazal, and the breathtaking vision of the Bat Ayin, who teaches us about the transformative power of a lev nishbar, a broken heart.

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.