1. Introduction to Parshas Devarim and the Sicha
This week we begin the Book of Devarim, and our Torah and Tea class will focus on insights from two sichos—talks—of the Rebbe: the fifth sicha in volume 19 and the first sicha in volume 24, both on Parshas Devarim. The first sicha is quite technical, but it contains a fascinating story that illustrates a profound lesson about Jewish identity, religious strength, and how we are perceived by others. We’ll also touch on themes of Rosh Chodesh Av, the nine days, and lessons from Moshe Rabbeinu’s explanation of Torah in seventy languages.
2. The Story of Mar Yehuda and Bati Bar Tuvi
The Gemara recounts an episode involving two Jews: Mar Yehuda (possibly Rabbi Yehuda) and Bati Bar Tuvi. Both were invited to dine at the table of Shver Malka, the king. As a delicacy, an esrog—citrus fruit—was served. The king cut himself a piece and ate it, then cut another piece for Bati Bar Tuvi without any special preparation. Before serving Mar Yehuda, however, the king stuck the knife ten times into the ground before cutting his portion. This act was to remove any non-kosher residue from the knife, as per halachic practice when using utensils that may have absorbed non-kosher flavors.
Bati Bar Tuvi questioned why he was served with a possibly non-kosher knife while Mar Yehuda received special treatment. The king replied (according to one version) that he knew Mar Yehuda was very religious and would not eat unless it was certain to be kosher, whereas he was unsure about Bati’s level of observance. Another version has the king referencing Bati’s behavior from the previous night as evidence that he was not so particular about religious matters.
3. The Rebbe’s Analysis: Religious Integrity and Respect
The Rebbe explores this story in depth. He asks: Why would uncertainty about someone’s religiosity justify serving them food with questionable kashrus? Perhaps they are careful! The Rebbe explains that this wasn’t simply about kosher versus non-kosher food; rather, it involved bishul akum—food cooked by a non-Jew—which is rabbinically prohibited to prevent excessive intimacy with non-Jewish neighbors.
Bati Bar Tuvi had been a slave who was freed but not fully integrated as a Jew according to all opinions, so his obligation may have been different. Moreover, when dining at a king’s table under threat or pressure, halacha allows leniency because refusing could endanger one’s life or show disrespect to royalty—and one is not required to risk their life for these rabbinic prohibitions.
Mar Yehuda, however, was known for his unwavering commitment even under pressure. The king respected this steadfastness so much that he went out of his way to accommodate him—koshering the knife himself rather than delegating it to a servant.
4. Lessons in Jewish Pride and Public Identity
The Rebbe draws an important lesson: When Jews stand firm in their beliefs without compromise—even in uncomfortable or high-pressure situations—they earn respect from others, even from powerful figures like kings or queens. There’s a story about a famous rabbi who refused to shake hands with a queen because of religious principles; instead of being offended, she admired his integrity and even contrasted it favorably with her own husband’s behavior.
This teaches us that when we are proud and open about our Judaism—wearing a yarmulke publicly or standing up for our values—we gain more respect than if we try to hide or compromise out of fear of what others might think. The Rebbe applies this lesson broadly: If Jewish leaders would speak confidently about our rights to Eretz Yisrael—our God-given land—without apologizing or seeking constant approval from others, we would be respected far more by the nations of the world.
5. Rosh Chodesh Av: Mourning and Ahavas Yisrael
This class coincides with Rosh Chodesh Av—the beginning of the nine days leading up to Tisha B’Av—and brings reminders about customs such as refraining from new or freshly laundered clothing and abstaining from meat and wine until after Tisha B’Av. Rosh Chodesh Av is also significant as the yortzeit—anniversary of passing—of Aaron HaKohen.
Aaron is remembered especially for his love of peace (ohiv sholom virodev sholom—loving peace and pursuing peace). When Aaron passed away on Rosh Chodesh Av, all Israel mourned deeply because he worked tirelessly to reconcile people—between spouses, neighbors, friends—and foster unity among Jews.
The Mishnah urges us to be students of Aaron by loving peace and pursuing peace actively. This message is especially relevant during these days when we mourn the destruction of the Beis HaMikdash—a tragedy attributed by our sages to sinas chinom—senseless hatred among Jews.
6. Ahavas Chinom: Senseless Love as Rectification
If senseless hatred destroyed our Temple, then its rectification must be through ahavas chinom—senseless love: loving another Jew without any reason or expectation in return. Sometimes people love only those who benefit them; true ahavas Yisrael means caring for every Jew simply because they are part of our people.
This approach includes reaching out even to those we don’t know personally—helping them materially or spiritually—and refraining from speaking Lashon Horeh—negative speech—or causing hurt through words or actions. By increasing acts of kindness and unity during these days—studying about the Beis HaMikdash and working toward its rebuilding—we fulfill Aaron’s legacy and prepare ourselves for redemption.
7. Moshe Rabbeinu Explains Torah in Seventy Languages
The Parsha describes how Moshe Rabbeinu began explaining Torah (be’er es haTorah hazos) before his passing (Devarim 1:5). Rashi cites our sages that Moshe explained Torah in seventy languages—the languages spoken by all nations at that time—to ensure everyone could access its teachings.
This act seems highly positive: making Torah accessible through translation is portrayed as praiseworthy both here and later when Moshe instructs writing Torah on stones across the Jordan in seventy languages for all nations to understand.
8. The Dangers of Translation: Talmai HaMelech’s Greek Torah
The Rebbe notes an apparent contradiction: elsewhere (in Maseches Sofrim), translating Torah into Greek for King Talmai is described as disastrous—a day as difficult for Israel as when they made the golden calf (Egil Hazahav). Why such severity? Because translation can never fully capture Torah’s depth; literal translations risk misinterpretation or distortion over time.
The Talmud relates that seventy-two elders were sequestered separately by Talmai HaMelech to translate Torah into Greek—and miraculously all made identical changes where literal translation would have led pagans astray (for example, reversing “Bereshis bara Elohim” lest they think “Bereshis” created “Elohim”). Thus translation can inadvertently lead future generations into error—even if no harm is intended at first—which is why such events are likened not just to making an idol but specifically “the day” it was made: sometimes negative consequences unfold only later on.
9. Responsibility for Influence: Actions Have Consequences
The same phrase appears regarding Hillel sitting submissively before Shammai when Beis Shammai temporarily had majority influence—the day was considered as difficult as “the day” of making the golden calf because future generations might draw mistaken conclusions about halacha based on appearances alone.
This teaches us that even actions justified in context can have unintended ripple effects if misunderstood by others observing us now or later. Our words and behaviors carry weight beyond our intentions; therefore we must be vigilant not only in what we do but also how it may be perceived or interpreted by others—especially regarding matters central to Jewish faith and unity.
The overarching message is twofold: Stand strong in your convictions without shame or compromise—and simultaneously remain aware that your example shapes how Judaism will be understood by others now and into the future.