A Yissachar / Zebulun Partnership in Loving Memory of Yishak ben Simcha A"H & Felicia bat Miriam A"H
Rabbi Eli Mansour

Torah Lecture

Megilat Rut Perek 1 Rashi / Malbim

Lectured by Rabbi Eli Mansour

Published
April 23, 2021
Duration
78:13
Lecture code
REM-MRUT-01

This transcript was auto-generated and polished for readability. While we aim for accuracy, errors may occur. If you notice a mistake, please click to submit corrections.

All right, rabotai (gentlemen), we have a custom: a few weeks before Chag HaShavuot (Feast of Weeks), we start studying Megillat Rut (Scroll of Ruth). Before Purim, we studied Megillat Ester (Scroll of Esther) with Rashi’s perush (commentary), just to review the story. If we do a chapter a week, we have enough time before Shavuot to at least develop a proper understanding of the megillah.

The megillah begins: Vayehi bimei shefot hashofetim vayehi ra'av ba'aretz vayelech ish miBeit Lechem Yehudah lagur bisdei Moav hu ve'ishto ushnei vanav (It came to pass in the days when the judges judged, that there was a famine in the land; and a man went from Bethlehem in Judah to sojourn in the fields of Moab, he, his wife, and his two sons). So the navi (prophet) tells us it was in the time of shefot hashofetim (when the judges judged). What time in Jewish history was that? No, the megillah was written by Shmuel HaNavi (Samuel the Prophet). Vayehi bimei shefot hashofetim: Rashi says, lifnei meloch Sha'ul (before Saul became king). So this happened before Sha'ul HaMelech (King Saul), when the generations were led by judges. Their leaders were called shofetim, judges. Uvimei Ivtzan (Ibzan)—that was the judge at the time. The Gemara says Ivtzan was Boaz.

Vayehi—it wasn’t a good time. Vayehi ra'av ba'aretz: there was a famine in the land. Vayelech ish miBeit Lechem Yehudah: a man went from Beit Lechem Yehudah lagur bisdei Moav, to live in the fields of Moav, hu ve'ishto, he and his wife, ushnei vanav, and his two sons. Rashi says, vayelech ish, ashir gadol hayah (he was very wealthy), ufar nas hador (and the leader of the generation), veyatza me'Eretz Yisrael (Land of Israel) lechutzah la'aretz mipnei tzarut ha'ayin (and he left the Land of Israel because of stinginess). Exactly. He was stingy: people were coming to ask him for charity because there was a famine, so he left. Therefore, he was punished.

The fact that the navi refers to him as an ish—vayelech ish—not Boaz, but Elimelech, vayelech ish—already tells us that he must have been a prominent man. So he leaves Eretz Yisrael and goes to the fields of Moav. Veshem ha'ish Elimelech: the man’s name was Elimelech; veshem ishto Naomi: his wife was Naomi; veshem shenei vanav Machlon veKilyon (Kilion). They were Efratim, important, from Beit Lechem Yehudah. What does Efratim mean? Rashi says, chashuvim—important. Efratim means chashuvim; they were important. Vechen ben Tochu ben Tzuf Efrati, evginos.

Re'eh chashivutam sheharei hisi'an Eglon melech Moav et bito. You see that he must have been important, because right away, when he got to Moav, his sons married the king’s daughter. We learned, as Rashi quotes, de'amar mar Rut bito shel Eglon haytah. Rut was the daughter of Eglon, the king of Moav. So they married into the royal family. Why? Because they themselves were royal. That is what Efratim means.

Davar acher: Efratim, Beit Lechem Yehudah; or Beit Lechem was called Efrat (Ephrath). So another name for Beit Lechem was Efrat. When it says Efratim, it means, as we would say, New Yorkers—people from Efrat.

Vayavo'u sedei Moav vayihyu sham. Vayamot Elimelech ish Naomi. Elimelech dies. Who is Elimelech? Ish Naomi. Lamah ne'emar? What does it have to say? Mikan ameru, ein ish met ela le'ishto: when a man dies, who feels it the most? His wife. Therefore it says vayamot Elimelech, ish Naomi, the husband of Naomi, as if he died for Naomi. Ve'amar ish Naomi, kelomar lemi: because he was the ish, the dominant figure in the marriage, Naomi was subject to him. She was subordinate to him, so the attribute of justice struck him and not her.

She didn’t have control. He was the dominant figure in the marriage. Naomi should have rebuked him and said, “Don’t move outside the Land of Israel,” but he wouldn’t have listened. Therefore, the verse says ish Naomi: the reason he died was that he was the dominant personality in the marriage, so she couldn’t influence him. That is why he died and she didn’t. Why didn’t she die? She also left. Because she couldn’t control it; she had to follow her husband. He was in charge: ish Naomi.

Vayis'u lahem nashim Mo'aviyot. The verse says they married Moabite women, goyot (non-Jew). One was named Orpah, and the other was named Rut. Vayeshvu sham ke'eser shanim: they lived there for ten years.

There is a question: doesn’t the Gemara say that a woman can say, “I don’t want to leave Eretz Yisrael,” and he has to give her a get (Jewish bill of divorce)? I heard something once like that. So if she didn’t object—right, that’s why she’ll be punished.

Vayamutu gam sheneihem Machlon veKilyon. Now Machlon and Kilyon died. What does gam mean in vayamutu gam sheneihem? Rashi says, gam sheneihem, mahu gam? Bitechilah laku bemamonam. In the beginning, Hashem doesn’t punish a person right away. They lost their money. Umetu gemaleihem umikneihem, ve'achar kach metu gam hem. It was a gradual process: they lost their money, and after that, they themselves died. Who loses money? It is considered as if he died. That’s right, but they didn’t do teshuvah (repentance). So they both lost their money, and then they both died.

We continue: vatisha'er ha'ishah mishnei yeladeha ume'ishah. Naomi remained bereft of her two children and her husband. Vatakom hi vechaloteha: she rose up with her daughters-in-law. Vatashav misdei Mo'av: she made her way back from the fields of Moav, ki sham'ah bisdeh Mo'av, because she heard ki fakad Adonai et amo, that God had remembered His people, latet lahem lachem, to give them food; the famine was over.

Vatetze min hamakom asher hayetah shamah. Rashi asks, lamah ne'emar? Harei kevar ne'emar vatashav misdei Mo'av. It already said she returned from the fields of Moav, so why does it say vatetze min hamakom? Umehechan tashuv im lo tetze min hamakom shehayetah sham? Obviously, if she’s going back, she’ll leave the place where she was. So why say vatetze min hamakom? Ela magid sheyitzi'at tzaddik (righteous person) min hamakom nikeret ve'osah roshem: when a righteous person leaves a place, it makes an impression. Panah zivah, panah hadarah, panah shivchah shel ir: the city’s splendor, glory, and praise have departed. Vechen beYa'akov, vayetze Ya'akov miBe'er Sheva. So when the verse says vatetze min hamakom, it means that when she left, the place was no longer the same. The place lost its glory.

Vatomer Na'omi lishtei chaloteha, lechnah shovnah. Naomi tells her two daughters-in-law, “Go back home. Ishah leveit imah”—each of you should go back to her mother’s house. Ya'as Hashem imachem chesed (kindness), she blessed them, ka'asher asitem im hametim ve'imadi, just as you did for the deceased and for me. Yiten Hashem lachem umetze'na menuchah—may you find menuchah, peace, a husband: ishah beit ishah, each woman in her husband’s home. What does ishah beit ishah mean? Each one in the home of her husband?

Here, the Malbim says, menuchah ishah beit ishah, shelo yed'u od shechol ve'almon: they should no longer know widowhood, rak yeshvu bimnuchot sha'ananot. You should find a husband, and everyone should go ishah beit ishah, to her husband’s house, and live in tranquility. Vatishak lahen: she kissed them. Vatasena kolan vativkeina: they raised their voices and wept. Vato'marnah lah: they answered her, “No, ki itach nashuv le'amech”—we’re coming back with you. They refused.

Vatomer Na'omi shovnah venotai: “Go back. Lamah telechnah imi? Why are you coming with me? Ha'od li vanim beme'ai vehayu lachem la'anashim? Do I have more children in my womb who could become husbands for you? Shovnah venotai lechnah, go back, ki zakanti miheyot le'ish.” What does that mean? “I’m too old to be with a man. I can’t have children.” Rashi says, she'inasa lo ve'eled banim vetinasu lahem: “I would have to marry and have children, and you would have to marry them.” She'einam asurim lachem ve'einam asurot lahem: you would be able to marry them halachically.

Even though you’re not allowed to marry your sister-in-law—you cannot marry your husband’s brother—there is only yibbum (levirate marriage). So, how was she saying that if I have a child, I'm not able to? And if you have children, still assur. Rashi says, Ve'einchem asurot lahem mishum eshet achiv shelo hayah be'olamo she'einah zekukah leyavam. The only brothers who are forbidden are those who were alive at the time of the death. Since the child I might have wasn’t alive then, he wouldn’t be subject to the issur (prohibition). So technically, you would be allowed to marry him. That is called eshet achiv shelo hayah be'olamo she'einah zekukah leyavam; there is no yibbum in that case. He wasn’t around at the time of the…

Lefi shelo hayah leMachlon veKilyon kiddushin (halachic marriage) bahem. Furthermore, Rashi says Machlon and Kilyon really did not have kiddushin. So let me go back and explain Rashi correctly, rabotai. If I have children, I won’t be able to have them because I’m old. Ve'einchem asurot lahem: normally, a brother would be forbidden. There is a law in the Gemara in Yevamot (Tractate Yevamot): eshet achiv shelo hayah be'olamo is normally forbidden, she'einah zekukah leyavam. Even though yibbum doesn’t apply, he is still forbidden. But in this case, he would not be forbidden to you. Why? Lefi shelo hayu leMachlon veKilyon kiddushin, because there was really no kiddushin in this case. Why? Shenochriyot hayu. Rashi understands that Rut and Orpah were goyot and had not converted.

That is according to Rashi’s shittah (approach). Ve'achshav hen ba'ot lehitgayer, and now they are coming to convert, kemo shene'emar ki itach nashuv le'amech, “We’re coming back with you”; me'atah nihyeh le'am echad, “From now on, we’ll be one people.” When they said ki itach nashuv le'amech, “We want to come back with you,” they were basically saying, “We want to be like you.”

On the Siftei Chachamim here, Rashi has a question: mah heshivah amareha lahem baze, umah ichpat lehu im tihyeh le'ish o lo? Therefore, he explains that she would have to marry and have children. Vetinasu lahem. But Rashi still has a difficulty: how were they permitted to marry them? Aren’t they forbidden to them? So he explains that they were not forbidden to them. Even though they were also forbidden because they were maternal brothers, not paternal brothers, and therefore not eligible for yibbum, Rashi mentioned one of the reasons.

There are two reasons they would be forbidden. Another reason is that they would be brothers through their mother, but not through their father, and so they would not be eligible for yibbum. If Rut has children, those children would be Machlon and Kilyon’s maternal brothers; they would not have the same father. Correct. So even though they would also be forbidden because they were maternal brothers and not eligible for yibbum, there is no yibbum in that case. There are two reasons there is no yibbum. Normally, you would have yibbum if Machlon and Kilyon died without children. The problem is that these children are not relevant to yibbum because they were not alive when the obligation arose. That is called eshet achiv shelo hayah be'olamo. He wasn’t around at the time. And even if they had been around, there would still be no yibbum because they were maternal brothers.

Rashi brought one of the reasons, but it doesn’t matter, because bottom line, there is no yibbum here at all, since they did not marry them. Rashi holds that they were goyot. Technically, if they were goyot, the fact that they married them as goyot now allows them to marry a new child who is born. But she says, “I’m not going to do it, because I’m old.” Do you understand what’s going on here and how it works?

Then she says, “Gam hayiti halaylah le'ish”—sorry, “Shovna venotai, go back, ki zakanti miheyot le'ish, ki amarti yesh li tikvah, gam hayiti halaylah le'ish vegam yaladti vanim.” Rashi says, “Ki amarti yesh li tikvah, ki afilu amar li libi”—even if I said to myself, “There is hope for me,” yesh li tikvah, “de'ensa od le'ish,” that I could marry someone, “veyaladti vanim.” “Vegam hayiti halaylah le'ish”—and furthermore, “veheyot uvechen afilu hariti halaylah,” even if I gave birth tonight to boys, “vegam yaladti vanim,” or even if I had already had boys, “o kevar yaladti vanim.” So there are two things: “Gam hayiti halaylah le'ish ve'afilu hariti halaylah zecharim,” even if I had boys tonight, or “vegam yaladti” previously. She says it won’t help you.

“Halahen tesaberena ad asher yigdalu?” Are you going to wait for them until they grow up? They’re zero now; you’d have to wait until they’re fifteen, or however old. The expression is sivro al Hashem. Halahen tesaberena means, “Will you wait for them? Will you anticipate them?” Halahen te'agenah: agunah (chained wife), a term of being imprisoned. He understands it here as, “Will you remain imprisoned as an agunah by not getting married until they grow up? Will you become an agunah on their account?” So you’re not going to get married. “Al benotai, al, no, ki mar li me'od mikem”—I’m very bitter because of you. “Ki yatz'ah bi yad Hashem”: the hand of God has struck me.

Rashi says, “Amar Rabi Levi, kol makom shene'emar yad Hashem makat dever hi.” Yad Hashem means a plague. “Uvenyan av lechulam hineh yad Hashem hoyah.” It seems that she was subject to a plague.

Now let’s go back to the Siftei Zekenim, because I want to understand the halachah of how it worked here. She says, “Kavanatah al Elimelech.” When she said, “Gam hayiti halaylah le'ish,” who is the ish? Elimelech, who was called ish. Even if Elimelech were still alive—which he wasn’t—and I were with an ish tonight, that is why it says, “Gam hayiti halaylah le'ish.” Who is this ish? “Vayelech ish”—Elimelech. “Kelomar gam hayiti halaylah le'ish hanizkar vayelech ish.” Then they would be brothers through their father. Oh, then yibbum would work! So they didn’t need to explain anything here; they didn’t have to say that they were non-Jewish women. Very nice.

So we have a major machloket: Rashi understands that they were married as goyot. Now the navi continues—or the Ketuvim continues. This was just to get a simple understanding first of what happened there, the metzi'ut (what happened there).

“Vatisenah kolan vativkenah od”: they cried some more, a lot of crying. “Vatishak Orpah lachamotah”: Orpah kissed her mother-in-law. “VeRut davkah bah”: Rut clung to her. “Vatomer hineh shavah yevamtech.” What does yevamtech mean? Rashi says, “Zeh ta'amo lemalah tachat hashin.” “Shavah,” because it is past tense. “Uvaboker ish shavah.” That’s with a bet, too; the vowel is below the bet, in the present tense. He’s giving you a grammatical explanation. Vechen kayotzei vazeh. What does yevamtech mean? I guess it means your rival? Where is the word? Sister-in-law? Yes, sister-in-law. “Eshet hayavam nikret lah yevamah al shem ba'alah (husband),” as the Radak says. The wife of the yavam is also called a yevamah. So she is the wife of the yavam. I guess it’s a way of saying sister-in-law. Fine, al shem her husband.

“Vatomer hineh shavah el amah ve'el eloheha, shuvi acharei yevamtech.” Rut says to Naomi, “Al tifge'i vi.” What does that mean? “Don’t say—don’t touch me?” “Do not urge me to leave.” Rashi says, “Al taftziri vi”: don’t urge me, don’t pressure me, “le'ozvech,” to leave you, “lashuv me'acharayich.” “Where you go, I will go; where you sleep, I will sleep; your people are my people, and your God is my God.”

Rashi says, “Mikan ameru raboteinu”: ger sheba lehitgayer, when a convert comes to convert, you inform him of some of the punishments, trying to scare him off, so that if he wants to reconsider, he can. From Rut’s response, you can figure out what Naomi told her. “Asur lanu latzet chutz letchum Shabbat.” We are not permitted to go outside the techum Shabbat, the Sabbath boundary. That is one. So what did she say back? “Ba'asher telechi elech”—where you walk, I will walk. “I accept the techum Shabbat.”

“Asur lanu lehityached nekevah im zachar.” We are not allowed to have yichud, to be secluded with a man. “Ba'asher talini alin”: where you sleep, I will sleep. Whatever is permitted to you and forbidden to me, I will do the same. “Ameinu muvdalim mish'ar amim beshesh me'ot ushlosh esreh mitzvot.” We are different from the other nations; we have 613 mitzvot (commandments). “Amech ami”: your people are my people. “Asur lanu avodah zarah”: we cannot serve God and do avodah zarah as well. “Veiloheych Elohai”: your God is my God.

“Arba mitot nimseru lebeit din.” There are four forms of punishment in court: sekilah (stoning), sereifah (burning), hereg (beheading), and chenek (strangulation). Look at verse seventeen: “Ba'asher tamuti amut”—the way you die, I accept these deaths. “Shenei kevarim metukanim lebeit din, echad liniskalin velinisrafin ve'echad laneheragin velanechnakin.” Even in court, there are different places in the cemetery where those who received the severe punishments of sekilah and sereifah are buried, and other places for those who received hereg and chenek. What did she say? “Vesham ekaver.” I accept being buried wherever the court buries me. Finished.

“Koh ya'aseh Hashem li vechoh yosif.” Rashi says, “Ka'asher hitchil lehara, sheyatze'ah yado bi lehamit ishi velamach nechasai”: even if God does more to me than He has already done—He killed my husband and I lost my money—“koh ya'aseh Hashem li vechoh yosif.” And even if He does more, “ki hamavet yafrid beini uveinech.” Nothing will separate us except death itself. She’s all in.

The verse says, “Vatere ki mit'ametzet hi.” She saw that Rut was determined, “lalechet ittah vatachdal ledaber eleha.” What do we learn from here? “Mikan ameru, ein marbin alav ve'ein medakdekin alav.” That’s it. She tried to push her away, but Rut didn’t accept it. Enough. “Vatachdal”: she stopped; she refrained.

“Vatelechnah shteihem ad bo'anah Beit Lechem.” So they both went together. Rashi says, “Amar Rabbi Abbahu: bo ure'eh, kammah chavivin hagerrim lifnei Hakadosh Baruch Hu”—look how much Hashem loves converts. Once she decided to convert—she hadn’t converted yet; she couldn’t get married in the middle of the fields; there was no mikveh, nothing—she wasn’t married? To whom? She married him as a non-Jewish woman. A goyah is allowed to marry a Jew. The question is about Machlon, how he married her.

Anyway, she put her mind to convert, and the verse equated her with Naomi. Amazing. “Vatelechnah shteihem.” She was still a goyah, but once she put her mind to convert, she was equal. “Vayehi kevo'anah Beit Lechem, vatehom kol ha'ir aleihen.” They came to Beit Lechem, and the whole city was in an uproar. Rashi says, “Vatehom, na'asit homiyyah.” Homiyyah means commotion, tumult. “Kol ha'ir, kullam nitkabtzu likbor ishto shel Boaz shemetah bo bayom.” Why was there commotion in the city? That day, Boaz’s wife died. Look at Hashem setting up the whole table here. There were already people there. Otherwise, ask: how did they see her coming into town? The cemeteries used to be outside the city, so everybody was at a funeral that day. Everyone was at Boaz’s wife’s funeral, and everybody saw these two women coming into the city.

Ve'od kol ha'ir, kullam matz'u chayyim, lo met echad bere'avon shebarchu mippanav. Also, everyone was still alive; no one had died from the famine. Wow! Vatehom kol ha'ir. An amazing miracle happened there. Nobody died during the famine. They ran because there was a famine, but the verse says vatehom kol ha'ir; the whole city was still intact. They ran for no reason; everybody survived. That’s a mussar (ethical teaching): vatehom kol ha'ir, as if to say, “Hey, we’re all still here. You ran away from danger, but the whole city is still here.”

“Vatomerenah, hazot Noomi?” “Is this Naomi?” The vowel is shortened because she is astonished. It’s rhetorical: “Is this Naomi, who used to travel with these animals, with mules and donkeys?” “Chazitem mah altah lah?” Look what happened to her. They knew why: “Al asher yatz'ah lechutzah la'aretz.” They said, “This is the punishment.” She used to travel with an entourage, like an important woman; now she’s destitute.

“Vatomer aleihen, al tikrena li Noomi.” “Don’t call me Naomi anymore. Krena li Marah”—call me the bitter one—“ki hemar Shaddai li me'od.” God has embittered me greatly. “Ani mele'ah halachti.” Rashi says, “Mele'ah”: I left here full of wealth and children. Davar acher: she had been pregnant. Wow, mele'ah halachti—some say she was full, meaning she was pregnant when she left. “Verikam heshivani Hashem”: now God has emptied me. Maybe she had a miscarriage. “Lamah tikrena li Noomi?” Naomi means pleasant. “VaHashem anah bi.” God is testifying. Rashi says, “He'id alai sherisha'ti lefanav”: He testified that I acted badly before Him. “VeShaddai hera li.” Another explanation: the attribute of justice struck me. No, she’s saying, “Don’t call me Naomi; this is the punishment I received.”

“Vateshev Noomi veRut haMo'aviyyah kallatah immah hashavah misedei Moav, vehemah ba'u Beit Lechem bitechillat ketzir se'orim.” When did they get to Beit Lechem? At the beginning of the barley harvest, the ketzirat ha'omer (omer harvest). That’s the simple understanding, just to get the basic meaning. Now let’s go back to the first chapter and try to see a little more deeply what happened here. Let’s look at a few points. We have the opinion of the Malbim.

“Vayehi bimei shefot hashofetim”: the Malbim explains the reason Elimelech left. Number one: mipenei shefot hashofetim. There was no king, and the navi says, “Bayamim hahem ein melech beYisrael. Ish hayashar be'einav ya'aseh.” In those days, it was the Wild West. Anybody did what they wanted. There was no leader, no enforcement. In the old days, there was a king; they would stop him and tell him, “Hey, you’re not allowed to leave.” But nobody had power there. The verse says, “Ki hayah bein shofet leshofet.” So vayehi bimei shefot hashofetim: according to the Malbim, it was between judges. There was no judge in office. “Ve'ein mora shofet al ha'am.” There was no fear of a judge over the people.

The Gemara says, in the Mishnah Pirkei Avot (Ethics of the Fathers), “Ilmalei mora'ah shel malchut (kingdom), ish et re'ehu chayim bala'u,” that without the fear of kingdom. So there was no fear of a king; there was no king. “Oy ledor sheshafetu et shofeteihem.” Not only that, but even when there was a judge, they judged their judges; the judges were corrupt.

“Vayehi ra'av ba'aretz.” So what happened? “Shebimei hara'av yit'asfu hamon ha'aniyim al ha'ashirim.” During the famine, the poor put pressure on the rich to give them bread. If they didn’t give it, they took it by force, because there was no king anymore. There were no laws. This was like—you know, what do you call it? Defunding.

“Vayelech ish miBeit Lechem Yehudah lagur bisdei Moav.” The man was wealthy, and he was afraid the poor would fall upon him. It was all a financial decision. But one thing is good: lagur means temporarily. “Lagur bisdei Moav”—until the anger passes, I’ll go back. “Bisdei Moav,” like someone who is staying temporarily in a field. He didn’t literally live in the fields, obviously, but it suggests something temporary. “Lagur bisdei Moav” means a temporary trip.

Even though there was famine and grief, only one man left, while the other rich men stayed behind. Elimelech was not the only wealthy man. The others did not join him in leaving Eretz Yisrael. All the other rich men stayed. “Vegam benei veito shel Elimelech lo yatzu beratzon ki lo ratzu la'azov eretz chemdah.” His sons didn’t want to leave either. Once he said he was leaving, they were dragged along after him. He was the primary one, and his wife was secondary.

He quotes a whole Midrash here. Yishai. “Veshem ha'ish”: it explains that he was a man known by name—not only he, but his wife and sons were also well known. That means they were known. You say “Elimelech,” and everyone knows who you’re talking about. “Veshem ishto Naomi”: everybody knew Naomi; “veshem shenei vanav”: his sons were known by their names. That’s why they left: they were known. Everybody knew who these people were; they were marked. It’s not like there was a rich man and nobody knew he was rich. He was rich, and they knew it.

The Gemara says that this was part of the punishment. Because they were so well known, when they left, it broke the morale of Klal Yisrael (the Jewish people). Everyone was relying on them. When an important family leaves, people say, “They left us here; they left us high and dry.”

“Efratim miBeit Lechem Yehudah.” Beit Lechem was initially called Efrat, and then it was called Beit Lechem, as it says in the Torah, “Va'ekbereha sham bederech Efrat hi Beit Lechem,” when Ya'akov Avinu (Jacob our forefather) buried Rachel Imeinu (Rachel our matriarch). It is called Efrat hi Beit Lechem. Also, they were a family of migdolei hayachas (distinguished lineage) from Shevet Yehudah (Tribe of Judah). If you came from Yehudah, you were called Efratim, after Kalev (Caleb)’s wife, who was from Yehudah and was called Efrat. Therefore, they called people from Yehudah Efratim.

“Vayavo'u.” At first it says they came lagur; they came to the fields of Moav, “vayihyu sham.” They went from a temporary stay to becoming permanent residents. “Vayamot.” Because he decided to stay outside the Land of Israel, he died immediately as punishment. And why was he punished, and not Naomi, as we learned? Because he was the dominant figure over Naomi, so she couldn’t express herself.

The essence of his punishment was that the Sages say God went after his money first, just as with the children. That is what “ish Naomi” means. As a great rich man, Elimelech himself was known by his wealth. People would say, “The rich Elimelech has died.” And certainly if he had been in the Land of Israel, they would have said, “Elimelech, the provider and leader of the generation, has died.” But after he lost all his wealth, what did they say? “Ish Naomi.” From the fact that they call him ish Naomi when he dies, that means he lost his money, because normally they wouldn’t have referred to him that way. They would have said, “ish he'ashir.” Now they referred to him only as “Naomi’s husband.” Before that, they didn’t care about Naomi. When a rich man comes in, they don’t say, “Oh, is your wife Sarah?” Who cares about his wife? They say, “Oh, you’re…” He lost his status. Exactly. The fact that it says vayamot ish Naomi means he lost everything.

“Vatisha'er ha'ishah.” Now you can’t blame Elimelech anymore. She stayed anyway. “Uvechol zot lo lakchu musar lashuv le'Eretz Yisrael.” Nevertheless, they did not take the lesson and return to the Land of Israel. Then the children added insult to injury: they went and married Moabite women. The Malbim understands, like Rashi, that they did not convert them.

“Shem ha'achat Orpah.” Orpah is not a Jewish name. That is proof that they didn’t convert, because if they had converted, they would have had Jewish names, like Sarah. The fact that it says “shem ha'achat Orpah” means that was a goy name. They kept their names. Rut happened to have a name that wasn’t Jewish, but it happened to turn out to be a good name, so she kept it. Borsalino. She’s the first Ruth. She’s number one; we’re naming after her. After her, we’re naming.

“Vayis'u”: the word for taking a wife through kiddushin is lekichah. If it were likuchin, it should have said vayikchu. Vayikchu is the language of kiddushin. It doesn’t say vayikchu; it says vayis'u. Vayis'u means marriage, civil marriage. Where is the kiddushin? So we learn right away that it was just a marriage; it wasn’t halachic. It explains that one was named Orpah and the other was named Rut.

The Malbim explains: Kilyon was the younger one, and Machlon was the firstborn. Kilyon acted brazenly, went ahead, and took Orpah. The younger brother made the aveirah (transgression) first: Kilyon married Orpah first. This shows a lack of mussar (ethical teaching), meaning they didn’t even have derech eretz (proper conduct) in the family. Normally, you wait for your older brother to get married. The older brother should have told him, “What are you doing?” The whole family had broken down.

Second, if Machlon had married first, that might have been a little justification for the second brother. If Machlon had married Rut first, perhaps you could say he recognized Rut’s righteousness, as it was revealed later. Rut really was a special girl, so you could say, “Okay, Machlon married Rut because he saw something in her.” And Kilyon might have thought, “Maybe she’s like Rut; maybe I’ll get a winner like Rut.” But in truth, it was the opposite. Kilyon married Orpah, and Orpah was wicked, as we know. Therefore, Machlon’s sin was much greater. His brother married a wicked woman, and he still went and married too. He should have said, “He got stuck with a loser; maybe I’ll get the same thing.” He didn’t care. “Shem ha'achat Orpah,” the wicked one, “veshem hashinit Rut.”

Furthermore, “Vayeshvu sham eser shanim.” That means they weren’t going back to the Land of Israel. They went from illegal aliens to citizens. You can’t say that anymore. They went from—no, illegal, don’t say that; there’s a cop right there. We’re law-abiding citizens. They went from—what do they call them now? Migrants. Migrants, okay—to citizens.

Now what happens? “Vayamutu gam sheneihem Machlon veKilyon.” Machlon and Kilyon died too—Machlon died first. They were punished because Machlon should have made the mecha'ah (protest) when his brother started the intermarriage. It says vayamutu gam, so we learned they lost their money first, and then they didn’t take the lesson; then they died.

“Vatisha'er ha'ishah.” Why did she survive? The Malbim says she had not joined in their sin, and her intention was always to return to Eretz Yisrael. Naomi, forgive me, Naomi.

The verse says, “Vatakom hi vechaloteha vatashav misedeh Moav ki sham'ah bisdeh Moav ki fakad Hashem et amo latet lahem lachem.” Then it says vatetze min hamakom, vatashav. Why the double language? Rashi answered that for us: the departure of a righteous person from a place makes an impression. The Malbim says, “Hineh kulam hiskimu latzet min hamakom hazeh.” Everybody agreed they had to get out, because they thought the bad luck of the place caused it. So in leaving, they all agreed. But as to where they were going, only Naomi intended to return from the fields of Moav to the place she had left. The others had not agreed to that yet; only Naomi had.

“Vatashav misedei Moav”: she had already decided, while they were still in the fields of Moav, to leave Moav. But they had not agreed to that yet, as will be explained later. Let’s read the verse: “Vayamutu shenehem Machlon veKilyon, tisha'er ha'ishah, vatakom hi vechaloteha vatashav misedei Moav.” While she was still in the fields of Moav, she had already committed to leaving.

“Ki sham'ah bisdeh Moav ki fakad Hashem et amo.” She didn’t leave because of the bad luck of the place or because she was afraid of death; she could have left the place and moved to another city in Moav. She left because she heard that the famine was over in Eretz Yisrael. She had left only because of the famine, to stay temporarily until the famine passed. So when she heard that the famine was over, and they would no longer suffer the disgrace of famine, she decided to return.

Where did she hear it? From the peddlers who went around the towns. What did she hear? “Ki fakad Hashem et amo.” Hashem remembered His people. One verse says, “Ki lo yitosh Hashem amo venachalato lo ya'azov”; another says, “Ki lo yitosh Hashem et amo ba'avur shemo hagadol.” One says He will never abandon His people, and the other says it is for the sake of His great name. How do we reconcile them? When the Jewish people are worthy, “Ki lo yitosh Hashem amo,” because of His people’s merit. When the Jewish people are not worthy, He acts for the sake of His great name.

So what did they say? “Ki fakad Hashem et amo.” The people who said this, if they didn’t believe in Hashem, they were Moabite people, and they weren’t concerned that Israel might no longer be His people. Therefore, what she heard from the peddlers who went around the towns—“They viewed them in Eretz Yisrael,” and cool, but still—was from Jewish peddlers who came to sell their goods in Moav. They were talking, because a goy would not say ki fakad Hashem et amo. They must have been Jewish peddlers, merchants who came to Moav. That’s a sign that the famine had ended. You can trust them, because if they’re coming to sell their goods, that means there is parnasah (livelihood).

Then he explains further: if the famine had ended for that reason alone, she still wouldn’t have returned. “Vehu she'achar shehara'av ba beYisrael al ma'asim.” The famine came because of their bad deeds. “Vayehi bimei shefot hashofetim vayehi ra'av”: there was no judgment, no justice, so the famine came. The judges were on trial: shefot hashofetim, the judges were being judged. So she said, if the people are not going to make teshuvah, the famine will come back. Why should I return? But she heard that Hashem had remembered His people. Remember the two verses? One says, “Ki lo yitosh Hashem et amo,” and one says, “Ba'avur shemo hagadol.” She heard that the reason God returned to His people was “Ki lo yitosh Hashem et amo”—because the people had repented. It wasn’t ba'avur shemo hagadol. If it were ba'avur shemo hagadol, that would mean they were still sinning, and she wouldn’t return. But when she heard ki fakad Hashem et amo, she understood that they must have made teshuvah, so she would return, “latet lahem lachem.”

So what did she do? “Vatetze.” The explanation says that in terms of leaving the place, they all agreed: she and her two daughters-in-law left together. They both agreed they had to leave. Their intention was simply to get out of this unlucky place and go somewhere else. Her intention was to go to Eretz Yisrael. But as for leaving, they all agreed: “Vatetze, be-da'at achat hi ushtei chaloteiha latzet min hamakom.” However, they did not agree about returning to Eretz Yehudah. They intended to stay in the fields of Moav and live somewhere else in Moav.

“Vatalachnah baderech.” As they started along the road and reached the end of the land of Moav, they saw Naomi was still walking. Now the girls wanted to part, because they didn’t want to leave Moav. They left together. She was on the road to the Land of Israel. At that point, they also agreed to return to the Land of Judah.

So let’s read the verses again. Start from verse six: “Vatakom hi vechaloteiha vatashav misedei Moav”—they both returned from the fields of Moav. Then the verse explains: “Vatetze,” she left from the place where she had been, and her two daughters-in-law left with her. “Vatalachnah baderech”: when they went on the road and reached the border, then they decided to return to the Land of Judah. Do you understand? At first, vatetze: they both left, but with different kavanot. Only when they got to the road and the border did the girls change their minds and say, “We’ll go back with you.”

Naomi thought they didn’t want to go to Eretz Yisrael; they only wanted to escort her. She thought they were going to escort her to the border. That is why she said, “Lechnah”: you’ve escorted me to the border, so you can go back now. You’ve done your mitzvah. When you go back, you can live in the land of Moav, and from there choose to live in one of the cities of Judah. Either go back to your parents’ homes or live somewhere else. “Shovnah ishah leveit imah.” The Malbim says: just as you treated me as a mother, it would be better for you to return to your own mothers. “Lechnah” means you don’t have to struggle along the road just to escort me.

“Ya'as Hashem imachem chesed, ka'asher asitem immadi.” You did kindness for me by walking with me. God should repay you for the mitzvah of levayah (accompanying the deceased). And not only did you do kindness for the deceased; you also did kindness while they were alive: you were good wives, and you were good to me. The Chazal say: what did they do for the deceased? The simple explanation is that you were good to your husbands while they were alive. But Chazal say no, you were good to them after they died. How could they be good to them? They gave them shrouds and made sure they had a proper funeral. “Ve'immadi”: you did me a favor when they died. What did you do? You waived the ketubah (marriage contract), because otherwise she would have had to pay it from the estate.

But I thought they weren’t married. It seems there was a monetary agreement; it could be. In the laws of the land of Moav, the funeral had to be paid for from the deceased’s estate. They also had to give the women their marriage contracts, and they waived all of that from their own money. That was kindness. They said, “We’ll take care of it,” because otherwise Naomi would have had to take it from the estate. “Ya'as Hashem immachem chesed”: may God do kindness for you.

What does the next verse say? “Yiten Hashem lachem umetze'na menuchah.” Rashi says, “Vechutz mimah sheya'aseh immachem chesed, yiten lachem matanah.” Besides doing kindness for you, He should give you a gift. He should give you kindness in return for the kindness you did, and then, on top of that, He should give you a gift—a bonus. The kindness corresponds to the kindness. That is really called truth. But now may God give you a bonus.

“Umetze'na menuchah.” This corresponds to what she said, “Shovnah ishah leveit imah.” Widows who do not want to get married again would normally make a home for themselves, because a woman is in control of her own affairs. But a widow who wants to get married again goes to her father’s house, because her husband would provide her a home. Among the goyim, they don’t know who their father is, so she says, “Go back to your mother’s house.” You know who your mother is. That’s “Shovnah venotai ishah bet imah.”

Ruth was the daughter of Eglon, king of Moav. That is why Naomi blessed her that she should find menuchah, ishah bet ishah, and no longer know widowhood. That is the gift. So the kindness is that God should repay you with kindness for the kindness you did, and then yiten Hashem—He will give you something extra.

“Vatishak lahen.” The Malbim says this was a farewell kiss. Then they said, “Az gilu da'atan she'enan holchot imah lelavotah ad Eretz Yehudah lashuv misham le'Eretz Moav.” They revealed that they weren’t going with her just to escort her to Judah and then return to Moav. They said, “No, ki itach nashuv le'amech.” At that point, they surprised her and said they intended to remain among her people. They didn’t yet say that they wanted to convert; they only said, “We want to go with you to your people and live with you.”

Naomi says, “Shovnah venotai, go back. Lamah telechnah immi?” She means they won’t marry you; you are goyot. You’re coming to live with my people? No, we don’t marry you. If you think I have more children whom you can marry into my family, “Ha'od li vanim beme'ai?” Do I have more children in my womb? “Vehayu lachem la'anashim?”

She says it figuratively. Could I have grown children who could marry you right away? “Ha'od yesh banim beme'ai?” Do I have children hidden under my dress? Do I have children in my pocket? Where am I going to pull these children from? “Shovnah.” She adds a second point: even if you think you can wait until I get married, first, “Zakanti”—I’m old. Second, you would have to wait until they grew up. “Ilu hayiti halailah vegam hayiti yaladti vanim”—even if I gave birth tonight.

The Sages explain “hayiti halailah” based on what they say: a woman who has been without a husband for ten years will no longer give birth. Really? The machine shuts down. That’s why they’re supposed to get divorced if they don’t have children for ten years, right? In our religion. Wait, right. If a woman is not married for ten years, it’s a different rule. If a woman is not with a husband for ten years, she loses her ability to have children. Where do we see that? It says, “Vehikshu alav bat Rav Chisda.” The Gemara asks about the daughter of Rav Chisda, who was a widow for ten years and gave birth. How could that be? The answer is that she intended to remarry. If her mind is set on getting married again, she can give birth even after being without a husband.

Here it says, “Vayamot Elimelech,” and they lived there for ten years. Technically, Naomi had been a widow for ten years after her husband died, so she could not have more children unless she had intended to remarry throughout those ten years. In that case, she could give birth. Or even if she had not intended to remarry, there is a way she could have children if she married that very night, because it was the tenth year.

That is why she says, “Shovnah venotai lechnah, ki zakanti miheyot le'ish.” “I’m too old to be with a man.” What does she mean? “Ki amarti yesh li tikvah”: even if, during the ten years, I said to myself there was hope of getting married again, I’m old. Even if I’m still fertile, I’m old. Number two: “Gam hayiti halaylah le'ish” means even if I gave up hope and tonight were the last night of the ten years and I got married tonight, would you wait for them? “Halahen tesabernah? Halahen te'agenah?” That is how the Malbim understands it.

But the Malbim says, “Geder hasever.” What does sever mean? “Tesabernah.” It means anticipating something certain, when you’re anticipating something that is clear will happen. “Vechen, einei chol elecha yeshaberu.” His point is: “Halo yesh safek im yigdelu chelal?” Who says they’ll even grow up? They could die, maybe. So “Halahen tesabernah?” Could you be sure? Are you sure this will happen?

“Halahen te'agenah? Al benotai, ki yatz'ah bi yad Hashem.” The Malbim asks what yad Hashem means. “Yad Hashem amurah al hamakah.” “Yatze'ah bi, uvivanai uve'ali.” After He struck all of them, there is nothing left for Him to strike again. But with you, the hand of Hashem has struck me, not you. I lost my husband and my children, but you’re still alive. Be careful; it could happen again.

What happens? “Vatishak Orpah.” That’s it. Orpah gave in; it was a farewell kiss. The Malbim calls it a kiss of separation. She took the road of least resistance. “VeRut davkah bah.” Rut clung to her.

Naomi says, “Hineh shavah yevamtech el amah.” The verse says she went back to her people and to her gods. That means she returned to her idolatry too; obviously, she didn’t want to convert. “Shuvi acharei yevamtech”—go on, go with her. Rut says, “Al tifge'i vi.” She says, “Lo techta alai”: don’t insist on me. As we learned, don’t beg me or pressure me to leave you. “Le'ozvech lashuv me'acharayich.” I’m not leaving you.

Even if I have to leave you and return to the land of Moav, because you’re going to the land of Judah and converting there through somebody else, “Al tifge'i vi le'ozvech lashuv me'acharayich”: even if you force me to leave you, I will follow you. I’ll go with somebody else to the Land of Israel and convert. That is the point.

“Ki el asher telechi elech.” She is the king’s daughter. The meaning is: don’t think the purpose of my journey is different from yours. You’re going there because of your religion, so you can do the commandments. I’m going for some benefit? No. The purpose of my journey is the same as yours. And don’t think I’m hoping for some temporary success, such as marrying a rich man. “Ki ba'asher talini alin.” Just as the righteous consider this world a temporary place, I’m going too. I know this world is temporary. Perhaps this shows that her conversion was genuine.

“Amech ami veiloheych Elohai.” That’s it. I’m part of the minhagim (customs). “Ba'asher tamuti amut”: I want to die like you and go to the Olam Haba (World to Come). “Vesham ekaver”: I want to be buried with the tzaddikim in Eretz Yisrael, because that is where the techiyat hameitim (resurrection of the dead) will take place. “Koh ya'aseh li Elohim.” Now she made an oath. Koh ya'aseh is an oath. “Ki hamavet yafrid beini uveinech.” The meaning is: what drives me to go with you is that I see how death would make a great difference between us.

That’s a beautiful peshat (plain meaning) here. You know what’s forcing me to go with you? “Ki hamavet yafrid”—because I see that if I don’t go with you, the difference will be where we both die and where we each go. Wow. I see ki hamavet yafrid. We look as if we’re both alive now, but where do you see the difference? At the time of death, when the Jew goes to Olam Haba and the non-Jew goes wherever he goes.

Even though in life I clung to you, even though religion separates us, we were still able to live together. You ate kosher; I did whatever I did. You wore your snood, your wig, and I uncovered my hair. Each one did whatever they did, and we were able to live together. But after death, that’s it. I can’t cling to you in Gan Eden (Garden of Eden). You will cling to the God of spirits, and I’ll be lost among the worshippers of idols. I’m going to put that in Section Z. Nice. So I don’t want death to separate us. I want to be with you in Olam Haba. Nice peshat. “Shichnu'a”—enough to convert.

Anyway, she accepted the mitzvot of Shabbat, as we said, and all this. “Vatere”—now Naomi sees that Rut has firmly decided to convert with a whole heart. That’s it. “Chadlah ledaber.” She stopped. “Vatelechnah shteihem.” This teaches that even though Rut had decided to convert and had not yet converted, vatelechnah shteihem: she was already equal to Naomi.

Why does it say shteihem? Because later it will say, “Vatehom kol ha'ir,” the city will be in an uproar. Naomi always had servants and maids around her. When she left her house, she was surrounded by a large crowd. Now they saw that only two women had come. “Vatelechnah shteihem!” That’s what the verse is saying: the people saw her walking with just the two of them. “Vatehom kol ha'ir!”

This is an unbelievable explanation. What does it mean when she says, “Why are you calling me Naomi anymore? Call me Marah”? He says, she’ein kamohu ke'oshro shel Achashverosh. Look at Achashverosh for a moment. “Ve'ibed kol oshro,” Achashverosh lost all his money. “Velo nish'ar beyado rak elef zehuvim”: he had only a thousand gold coins left. We say he had declined in wealth and become poor. You can say that only if you mention how wealthy he was before. A thousand gold coins is a lot, but you have to know what he had. The man was a billionaire, and now he has a million dollars. You say, “How is that?” He went from a billion dollars to a million; he lost. Compared with the great wealth he had at first, he is poor. If we don’t mention his original wealth, we don’t know whether a thousand gold coins makes him rich or poor.

But if this rich man lost all his property, until he didn’t have a penny left, then I don’t need to know what he had before. He’s poor by any standard. It doesn’t matter what he had before; you understand? When the people of the city saw her coming on foot, without a camel, with no ride, no car, and nobody accompanying her, they knew she had lost the wealth she had before.

Nevertheless, they might say, “Okay, but she has jewelry, she has money.” Someone might say, “Don’t worry about her. She’s richer than all of us.” You hear what people say? By her standards, maybe she has less, but don’t worry, she has more than you. You don’t have to collect for her. They said, “Hazot Na'omi?” They remembered what Naomi had been, and now they assumed she had lost her money.

She says to them, “You’re not seeing me correctly.” You can call her Marah only if you mention her previous name, because that shows what she used to be. Compared with what Naomi used to be, she is now Marah. She says, “No, no. You don’t have to mention Naomi. Call me Marah straight, because it doesn’t matter who I was before. I have nothing.”

That’s the beautiful explanation. They came along and said, “Hazot Na'omi?” Wow, we remember Naomi, and now she’s Marah. She says, “Listen, you don’t have to remember what I was in order to feel bad for what I am now. Even if you didn’t know who I was, I have nothing. Zero is Marah by every standard. You don’t have to know what I had.”

“Amrah she'ein tzorech klal lehazkir Naomi, ki atah inyanah kol kach ad shelo nish'ar beyadah me'umah.” I have nothing left. And she went to collect—we’re going to learn tomorrow—so you can call me Marah straight. “Al tikrena li Naomi,” and then “Krena li Marah”: call me Marah without mentioning my first name. Nice peshat.

“Ki hemar Shaddai li me'od.” “Ani mele'ah halachti”: they went full. But “verikam heshivani”: I have nothing. It’s not that I lost some of my money. They thought she had a safety deposit box in the Bank Leumi in Israel or Bank Hapoalim and would open it when she came back. Sure, Elimelech left her some treasures in Israel. No: “Me'umah, heshivani!” He left me with nothing.

Now she says a big chiddush (novel insight). She says again, “Lamah tikrena li Naomi?” At first she said, “Al tikrena li Naomi.” Now she says, “Lamah tikrena li Naomi?” What is the difference the second time? It now becomes clear that it wasn’t appropriate to call her Naomi at all. That is why she says, “Lamah tikrena li Naomi?” Even when you say I used to be called Naomi, that’s a lie. They say I used to be called Naomi before, but this is based on the idea that sometimes, when Hashem leaves a person to suffer a great punishment, He first raises that person to a great height.

“Lifnei shever ga'on.” We call that a setup. A person is lifted higher and higher, but the intention is ultimately to bring him down. Haman is the perfect example. The success is made great so that, when he is brought down to poverty and distress, he feels great pain. If he falls from the first rung of the ladder, he doesn’t feel it. So put him at the top, and he feels it when he falls. That is a great fall.

They thought that Hashem had given her great wealth and honor earlier so that she would fall from that great height into poverty and humiliation. The descent would be more painful, and the fall greater. So that earlier success was only a warning that she should return to Hashem. He raised her up in order to cast her down. If that’s so, even the time when people praised her wasn’t truly a good time, because that success was very bitter: it was serving the purpose of her descent.

That is what she says afterward: “Ani mele'ah halachti.” Why? “Verikam heshivani Hashem.” The fullness was a setup for being sent back empty. “Ani mele'ah halachti, sherikam heshivani.” So even when I was full, I wasn’t Naomi. That fullness was part of the setup.

“Lamah tikrena li Naomi?” Even the time when I was called Naomi before was false, “ki Hashem anah bi.” The meaning is that my earlier success was only a warning. Hashem was warning me that I should improve my ways. God was saying, “You have this wealth, but be careful, because if you fall, it will hurt much more than anyone else.” So when a person has a good life, it’s really a warning from God. Be careful: you have more to lose, and you’ll feel it worse if it is taken away. On the contrary, the luxuries and good things a person has should keep him more in check. The poor person has nothing to lose. “You can take away my blanket? That’s all I have anyway.” But the rich person is told, “You’re living well, but that’s a warning: if these things leave you, you’re going to feel it.” Even his berachah (blessing) is a stop sign.

Anyway, we conclude this chapter here. It’s an incredible story, rabotai. The intention is to do one chapter a week like this, so by the time we get to Atzeret (Shavuot), at least we’ll go in knowing the megillah. We’ll add to our list of things we have to know.

“Vateshev Naomi” means that when she left Beit Lechem, she left all her fields behind. She left all her fields when she fled the town of Beit Lechem, and they remained abandoned until she returned to her inheritance. Rut, her daughter-in-law, also had a claim to the field, meaning that part of the land belonged to Machlon. So when Naomi returned to the fields, her daughter-in-law had a share in that real estate too. “Hashavah misdei Moav.” If she had stayed in the fields of Moav, that would mean she is mochel (waives) her claim. The fact that she came back is why it says hashavah misdei Moav.

The Midrash writes here that she was the first woman ever to come from Moav to convert. Hashavah misdei Moav means she was the first one. That is why she was controversial: nobody knew whether it was permitted to accept converts from Moav. They assumed—this is what we’re going to learn later.

“Vehemah ba'u.” When did they arrive? As Elliot said, at what time? The harvest. Barley harvest time. This was the time of ketzir se'orim. Why does the verse have to tell us that they arrived at this time? Exactly. This was to make sure she could receive a portion of the gifts for the poor. Even though she had a field, she came at the time of the harvest, not the time of planting. It was too late; she had missed the season. So that’s why she had to collect. Hashem arranged it perfectly. If she had come in another season, she would have planted her own field and wouldn’t have gone to Boaz’s field. Then David HaMelech (King David) would not have come about this way.

Rabotai, Act I, scene 1. To be continued. Baruch Hashem le'olam amen ve'amen. Rebbi Chananya ben Akashya omer ratzah HaKadosh Baruch Hu lezakot et Yisrael lefichach hirbah lahem Torah umitzvot shene'emar Hashem chafetz lema'an tzidko yagdil (Rabbi Chananya ben Akashya says: The Holy One, blessed be He, wanted to make Israel meritorious; therefore He gave them abundant Torah and commandments, as it is said, The Lord desired, for His righteousness' sake, to make the Torah great and glorious).