Parshat Mishpatim and the Unbroken Chain of a Fourth Generation
The “And” of History: Parshat Mishpatim and the Unbroken Chain of a Fourth Generation in Eretz Yisrael
I had the great privilege—truly a moving privilege—of attending the Bris of my first cousin’s great-grandchild. This was more than a family simcha; it was a living testament to the unbroken chain of Torah and mesirat nefesh in our family. I was the only attendee who, as a child, had known both my grandparents—my Bubby and Zeida. As I stood there, my thoughts immediately turned to them, who arrived in England as refugees just before the Churban of Europe. They came with almost nothing, yet with clarity in their hearts, carrying the responsibility to safeguard Torah and Yiddishkeit in a world already beginning to collapse. That memory framed the entire moment.
Parshat Mishpatim begins with the words, “V’eileh hamishpatim”—“And these are the laws.” Rashi asks why the Torah begins a new section with the word “And.” The Torah is teaching that the giving of the Torah at Har Sinai is not complete without action in daily life. Torah must be lived in the world of Mishpatim: in honesty, justice, and the careful details of home, family, and community. Sinai without Mishpatim is Torah without practice.
Our family story is a living example of that “And,” a testament to the unbroken chain of dedication from one generation to the next.
My grandparents arrived in England just before the Churban, carrying the weight of what was being lost. In their new surroundings, the challenge was not open persecution but the pressure to blend in, the temptation to compromise. Yet they understood that Jewish survival depends not on heroism alone, but on commitment to daily mitzvot, to every minhag, and careful observance of Torah law.
They chose Mishpatim.
Not merely as halachic observance, but as a way of life. Shabbos observed without compromise. Kashrus upheld to the highest, uncompromising standards. Every minhag and detail of Torah life preserved. And above all—chinuch, even when it required sacrifice. Despite meager earnings and limited comfort, they established a Talmud Torah for their children. They understood that chinuch is the foundation of continuity and the living expression of the unbroken chain.
Through that devotion, they themselves became gedolim—not through honors or titles, but by being sources of Torah light for the future. They were like lamps that burn quietly, consuming themselves in order to give light.
And so the chain continued. Their children began as katanim, receiving and reflecting the light of their parents. Over time, they too became gedolim, no longer only reflecting the light but generating it—illuminating the way for the next generation. What began as reflection became radiance. Each link strengthened the unbroken chain.
Standing at this Bris in Eretz Yisrael, that connection was undeniable. A fourth generation entering the Bris in the very land my grandparents prayed toward from modest refugee homes is no coincidence. It is the fulfillment of Mishpatim lived faithfully. Torah safeguarded in exile becomes Torah revealed at home.
At every Bris, we recite, “K’shem shenichnas labrit, kein yikaneis l’Torah u’l’chupah u’l’ma’asim tovim,” teaching that the Bris of Abraham is transmitted through mitzvot and Jewish life from generation to generation. The child receives the mitzvah, the family accepts the obligation, and Torah continues without interruption. This is the essence of mesirat nefesh passed from one generation to the next, the foundation of the unbroken chain.
There is no doubt that our grandparents were present in spirit. From Olam HaEmet, they see that their quiet mesirat nefesh was not in vain. To see a fourth generation—rooted, confident, and fully Torahdik—thriving in Eretz Yisrael is the greatest answer to those who sought to sever the chain.
When we say, “Zeh hakatan gadol yihyeh”—“This little one shall become great”—we speak of a spiritual journey. A katan is like the moon, which reflects the light of the sun. Spiritually, this represents a child early in their growth, receiving Torah, inspiration, and guidance from parents, teachers, and previous generations. The katan mirrors the greatness he receives, preserving it as part of the unbroken chain.
A gadol, by contrast, is like the sun, generating its own light. A gadol takes the Torah and values received as a child and transforms them into independent spiritual energy, becoming a source of guidance and illumination for others. The child at this Bris carries that potential—beginning as katan, reflecting the light of the past, with the hope of growing into a gadol, generating light for future generations and extending the unbroken chain.
Parshat Mishpatim teaches that holiness is built through the ordinary: careful observance of mitzvot, sacrifices in daily life, dedication to teaching Torah, and upholding values when no one is watching. Just as the Torah says, “V’eileh hamishpatim,” the laws are not an afterthought—they are the continuation of Sinai, the practical application of holiness in every moment. The golden chain of our people is forged not only in homes, schools, and communities, but in every act of mesirat nefesh. Every Shabbos observed without compromise, every cheder established, every mitzvah taught, every minhag kept—keeps the chain unbroken.
It is through the careful observance of every mitzvah and every minhag without compromise—in every home and every generation—that Torah endures, and the unbroken chain continues for all time.
