"Its only a number".... as I move on in years I appreciate when people say that about age. And yet that implies that numbers, in themselves, are not quite real.
Yet we are living in a season where numbers are very real and indeed consequential. The book of the Torah we began last Shabbat is titled by our sages Chomesh Hapekudim, The Book of Numbers. After reading the opening Parsha we would have little question as to why. At the close of this week we celebrate the holiday of Shavuot, a Yom Tov that does not arrive on the bases of a date on the calendar, but rather after the counting of the 49 days of the Omer.
We may debate how much numbers matter, but the act of numbering surely does.
It should not really surprise us. After all anyone who has worked on a personal issue can surely resonate with the importance of numbering. When we are trying to lose weight who has not counted the days they have been faithful to their diet, not to mention counting the pounds or kilos lost. If one goes to a meeting of those who have struggled with an addiction one hears with pride the recovering alcoholic, gambler or over-eater claim his/her days months and years in recovery. Counting is an important ingredient to succesfully making transitions to new behaviors. In counting we give measure to our success and use the measured sucess to propel us further in becoming who we need to become and doing what we need to do.
It is intriguing to note that in the counting to the chag of Shavuot we do not count down from 49 to 1 as we might imagine, since we are counting to the goal of the holiday and the giving of the Torah. We count from the offering of the Omer. What are we actually numbering?
The answer is that we, like those in recovery and those trying to lose weight, are counting our faithfulness to a new way of life. Having left Egypt we also left a lifestyle embedded in impurity. We embraced a commitment to kedusha. As a nation we resolved to serve Hashem.
Each day after the Exodus, we renewed our resolve and deepened it so that after 49 days we were worthy of receiving the Torah and as it were, becoming betrothed to the Divine.
Its not that we are counting to Shavuot. On the contrary Shavuot happened only after we achieved a certain level of national recovery, or what we might better call national teshuva, as reflected in the days of the count. Shavuot was not the goal of the count but rather its result. When the people of Israel had become who they needed to be through both effort and time they became worthy of the Torah and the special status as the goy kadosh, the holy nation of G-d.
That is why the counting is tied to the bringing of the Omer rather than the Exodus. Counting from the Exodus would seem to be counting from that which we had escaped. While escaping the impurities of Egypt is significant, recovery is not simply about counting the days from when you last acted-out.
Rather we count from the omer offering, an offering of the earliest grains to be harvested, the barley, as a gift to G-d. We can relate to that symbolically as we the people of Israel are called raishit tevuato, the first grains of the Divine, and now we devote ourselves to His service.
We count from the bringing of the Omer because that is the symbol that best epitomizes the work for us during this period of numbering, a work that each year leads to once again renewing our covenant with Hashem and Hashem once again giving us His Torah.
Counting can be helpful to us to shore up our personal resolve. We might help ourselves to watch what we say if we counted the days that we did not speak loshon hara. We might enhance our prayers if we counted the tefilot we said with kavana. We might better sustain our resolve to do chesed if we kept a count of the acts of kindness we did each day.
In counting we both bless our accomplishments and hold ourselves accountable. We have a way to measure who we are and what we have done.
When a number stand alone indeed "it is only a number". But when it reflects a work and a resolve numbers can bring us to the foot of Mt Sinai.
What do we need to start counting to sustain our resolve to better serve Hashem and His children? That's a good question to ponder as we await the chag which depends on the count.
Chag Samayach Shabbat Shalom
Saturday, May 23, 2009
Thursday, May 21, 2009
Voices in the Wilderness
This week we begin a new book of the Torah. The opening pasuk says "And Hashem spoke to Moshe in the wilderness (midbar) of Sinai saying..." Its more than interesting that the Torah refers to the place from which G-d revealed Himself to Moshe. A number of the sages point out the irony that on leaving Egypt a year earlier the Israelites said at the sea " why did you take us out to die in the wilderness", as if the wilderness was only a place for death and destruction. Now the very wilderness that they saw as only a place for their demise turns out to be the source point for the great gift of Divine inspiration.
There is a wonderful Medrash that follows up on this point. By analogy it shows the midbar, wilderness connection we have with Hashem was no accident. The medrash tells of a prince who wanted to come visit his subjects. He went from one settlement to another and everywhere he went the people fled from him. Finally he visited a place devastated and in ruin. There everyone came out to greet him. The prince said "if that is the case here I will build my home, here I will make my capital, from here I will rule my land."
While a nice story, we might well ask why did the people of the inhabited cities flee the Prince?And why would those settled in the ruins come to greet him? And what connection does the analogy have to explain the presence of the Divine in the wilderness as we find in the parsha of this week.
The answer I believe is quite simple. When the prince went to visit the cities of settlement no one wanted to have their lives interrupted. They liked their existence and did not want anything changed. They feared his arrival would bring about upheaval in their lives. They preferred not to see him so as to avoid having to alter the lifestyle they knew.
But in the devastated city the life of the inhabitants was in shambles. They hungered for change and hoped for a new tomorrow. They welcomed the intervention of the Prince whose presence offered hope that they might yet find a new beginning.
Indeed the story aptly fits the reading of this week. Hashem comes to us in the wilderness of our lives. When all is going well, when we feel settled and secure we often really don't want to see Him. We don't want any new directions or challenges to disturb the peace we have made with our existence. We prefer to avoid the intimacy with the Divine for fear the truth that will be revealed to us will require us to do a make-over we have no desire for.
But when we feel ourselves in the midbar, when we feel our lives are in disarray, when we feel we have lost our bearing and know not where to go or who to be, then then we yearn for Hashem, then we seek Him and welcome His presence, then we are open to an encounter with the Divine as a source of hope that we may yet rebuild.
That is why, like the Prince in our story, Hashem makes the wilderness, the place of devastation his home. From the midbar of our lives we are far more likely to hear His call then from the times in our lives when we feel settled. In fact settledness causes us, whether we acknowledge it or not, to flee the true intimacy with Hashem. We don't want to have to change. But the times of upheaval, when we feel most empty and in ruins, in those times we yearn for Hashem and will make any change to foster hope and salvation. Those times Hashem feels wanted. And in those times he makes a home with us who yearn to receive Him.
The midbar of our lives, while so painful and difficult hold a potential for spiritual transformation as no other time. Are you in a midbar now? Will you be in a midbar soon. When next you are there listen for the voice of Hashem. For indeed it is from there that He will speak to you. And more importantly from there you will have have the heart to hear Him.
Chag Samayach on Yom Yerushalayim! Shabbat Shalom!
There is a wonderful Medrash that follows up on this point. By analogy it shows the midbar, wilderness connection we have with Hashem was no accident. The medrash tells of a prince who wanted to come visit his subjects. He went from one settlement to another and everywhere he went the people fled from him. Finally he visited a place devastated and in ruin. There everyone came out to greet him. The prince said "if that is the case here I will build my home, here I will make my capital, from here I will rule my land."
While a nice story, we might well ask why did the people of the inhabited cities flee the Prince?And why would those settled in the ruins come to greet him? And what connection does the analogy have to explain the presence of the Divine in the wilderness as we find in the parsha of this week.
The answer I believe is quite simple. When the prince went to visit the cities of settlement no one wanted to have their lives interrupted. They liked their existence and did not want anything changed. They feared his arrival would bring about upheaval in their lives. They preferred not to see him so as to avoid having to alter the lifestyle they knew.
But in the devastated city the life of the inhabitants was in shambles. They hungered for change and hoped for a new tomorrow. They welcomed the intervention of the Prince whose presence offered hope that they might yet find a new beginning.
Indeed the story aptly fits the reading of this week. Hashem comes to us in the wilderness of our lives. When all is going well, when we feel settled and secure we often really don't want to see Him. We don't want any new directions or challenges to disturb the peace we have made with our existence. We prefer to avoid the intimacy with the Divine for fear the truth that will be revealed to us will require us to do a make-over we have no desire for.
But when we feel ourselves in the midbar, when we feel our lives are in disarray, when we feel we have lost our bearing and know not where to go or who to be, then then we yearn for Hashem, then we seek Him and welcome His presence, then we are open to an encounter with the Divine as a source of hope that we may yet rebuild.
That is why, like the Prince in our story, Hashem makes the wilderness, the place of devastation his home. From the midbar of our lives we are far more likely to hear His call then from the times in our lives when we feel settled. In fact settledness causes us, whether we acknowledge it or not, to flee the true intimacy with Hashem. We don't want to have to change. But the times of upheaval, when we feel most empty and in ruins, in those times we yearn for Hashem and will make any change to foster hope and salvation. Those times Hashem feels wanted. And in those times he makes a home with us who yearn to receive Him.
The midbar of our lives, while so painful and difficult hold a potential for spiritual transformation as no other time. Are you in a midbar now? Will you be in a midbar soon. When next you are there listen for the voice of Hashem. For indeed it is from there that He will speak to you. And more importantly from there you will have have the heart to hear Him.
Chag Samayach on Yom Yerushalayim! Shabbat Shalom!
Tuesday, May 12, 2009
A Time of Miracles
I recall as a boy going one weekday morning to minyan with my dad. We lived in a Long Island suburb then, where there were few observant Jews.Minyan had a limited attendance and every person counted. Prior to the davening beginning my father bent over and whispered to me, "See that man over there...He is a baal t'shuva" saying it as if he was showing me a rare and precious find.
Indeed he was. That was in the mid-fifties. Jews seemed to be quickly disappearing. Any Jew who observed was no doubt an FFB (frum from birth) and even they, all too often, were sadly surrendering the observance of their family of origin for the promise of the American dream.
Baal T'shuva was something found in the pages of the Talmud not a living breathing human being. It was startling to think then that someone actually gave up the investment in the American dream for a commitment to Torah lifestyle.
My how times have changed, thank G-d. The renaissance of the Jewish spirit has been as remarkable as it has been unpredictable. An uncle of mine, a prominent Conservative rabbi, made the prediction with a gloat to my father that in fifty years there won't be any Orthodox Jews in America. That was in 1955. Fifty years later, v'nahapoch hu, the opposite is true. Its the liberal branches of Judaism that are on the ropes and facing extinction. And BTs are every bit as common, and in some circles more common than FFBs. Who would have guessed.
I thought about this as I looked at the parsha, or to be more exact, the second parsha we read this week. In it we find the tochacha, the admonition given by Hashem to Israel of the consequences of there choice to either follow the Torah and keep the mizvot or G-d forbid, stray.
If one looks at the horrific punishments in store for Israel should they fail to keep the Torah and mitzvot, he should not make the mistake of thinking that G-d is simply getting even with us. On the contrary G-d loves us even when we fail Him. Over and over in the reading G-d says " if you continue to stray and distance yourself from me then I will add to your punishments..." clearly indicating that the punishments in the first place were brought on Israel to foster their return to Hashem.
And perhaps it has been true, that when things were bad for us as a people we sought G-d and looked for His deliverance. After all isn't it that way in our individual lives. When things are good we are often casual about G-d and lax in observance. When things go awry, like when someone we love is sick or in need, or when we find our situation desperate, our prayers become passionate and we practice the mitzvot with more mindfulness. Bad things tend to bring out the latent yearning for G-d and His rescue.
Yet that is not the backdrop for the renewal we have seen in our day. Surely the Jewish people in America in the 50's were in need of some stimulation to bring them back to the faith of their fathers. There were few Yeshivot and Jewish Day Schools.Few adults were learned. Observance was declining with little hope for a reversal. One might have expected, in accord with the tochacha of this week's parsha that some evils befall the Jewish people so they might turn to Hashem for His deliverance. But no evils came. Renewal yes! But without the punishments.
What is this?
In the prophet Amos we read "Behold the days come, saith the L-rd Hashem, that I will send a famine in the land, not a famine of bread or a thirst for water, but of hearing the words of Hashem".
Those days have come. Hashem has seen fit to bring us back not through abstinence and deprivation, as in times past, but through plenty. We have bread. We have water. All our physical
needs are met. We lack for nothing of consequence. And yet we feel the void, a painful void, a void made all the more undeniable precisely because we can't distract ourselves from it with the pursuit of needs not met, since we do have it all.
In this time of plenty we feel a hunger that cannot be sated and a thirst that cannot be quenched. With all the promise of America now realized, with all the material blessings at our door we are lacking. In this world where nothing is denied us we feel an absence . The absence of divrai Hashem, the words of Hashem.
Our world is full of so many words, so much hype, the world is full of glitter and sound. Media is the god of the secular. Yet the renewal of the spirit is born precisely at the apex of the influence of media. Never have we been more inundated with sounds and sites. Media made a furious effort to earn our allegiance to the values it represents, the values of shallow beauty and transient pleasures. Yet in the end the emperor has no clothes. We listen but feel empty. We look but feel unfulfilled.
It is not the divrei of television or the divrei of the latest pop cd or the divrei of a fashion magazine that we seek...No it is the divrei Hashem, the words of G-d we yearn to hear. Words that will sate us and bring us the peace. Words full of meaning. Words enduring. Words that speak truth eternal. Words that link us to the transcend ant. Ironic that with all the noise in our world its words we feel most deprived of.....words of Hashem.
Its the hunger for those words that fostered the movement of renewal we experience in our day. And while many Jews sadly remain lost to our faith, one cannot help but marvel at the miracle of rebirth that fills us with hope.
Indeed these are the times Amos was referring to so many years ago. How privileged we are to live in them. May the renewal be complete and full so that all of the prophets vision be realized.
As he concludes "......And I will plant them on their land and they shall no more be plucked up out of the land which I have given them, saith Hashem Elokim".
Shabbat Shalom
Indeed he was. That was in the mid-fifties. Jews seemed to be quickly disappearing. Any Jew who observed was no doubt an FFB (frum from birth) and even they, all too often, were sadly surrendering the observance of their family of origin for the promise of the American dream.
Baal T'shuva was something found in the pages of the Talmud not a living breathing human being. It was startling to think then that someone actually gave up the investment in the American dream for a commitment to Torah lifestyle.
My how times have changed, thank G-d. The renaissance of the Jewish spirit has been as remarkable as it has been unpredictable. An uncle of mine, a prominent Conservative rabbi, made the prediction with a gloat to my father that in fifty years there won't be any Orthodox Jews in America. That was in 1955. Fifty years later, v'nahapoch hu, the opposite is true. Its the liberal branches of Judaism that are on the ropes and facing extinction. And BTs are every bit as common, and in some circles more common than FFBs. Who would have guessed.
I thought about this as I looked at the parsha, or to be more exact, the second parsha we read this week. In it we find the tochacha, the admonition given by Hashem to Israel of the consequences of there choice to either follow the Torah and keep the mizvot or G-d forbid, stray.
If one looks at the horrific punishments in store for Israel should they fail to keep the Torah and mitzvot, he should not make the mistake of thinking that G-d is simply getting even with us. On the contrary G-d loves us even when we fail Him. Over and over in the reading G-d says " if you continue to stray and distance yourself from me then I will add to your punishments..." clearly indicating that the punishments in the first place were brought on Israel to foster their return to Hashem.
And perhaps it has been true, that when things were bad for us as a people we sought G-d and looked for His deliverance. After all isn't it that way in our individual lives. When things are good we are often casual about G-d and lax in observance. When things go awry, like when someone we love is sick or in need, or when we find our situation desperate, our prayers become passionate and we practice the mitzvot with more mindfulness. Bad things tend to bring out the latent yearning for G-d and His rescue.
Yet that is not the backdrop for the renewal we have seen in our day. Surely the Jewish people in America in the 50's were in need of some stimulation to bring them back to the faith of their fathers. There were few Yeshivot and Jewish Day Schools.Few adults were learned. Observance was declining with little hope for a reversal. One might have expected, in accord with the tochacha of this week's parsha that some evils befall the Jewish people so they might turn to Hashem for His deliverance. But no evils came. Renewal yes! But without the punishments.
What is this?
In the prophet Amos we read "Behold the days come, saith the L-rd Hashem, that I will send a famine in the land, not a famine of bread or a thirst for water, but of hearing the words of Hashem".
Those days have come. Hashem has seen fit to bring us back not through abstinence and deprivation, as in times past, but through plenty. We have bread. We have water. All our physical
needs are met. We lack for nothing of consequence. And yet we feel the void, a painful void, a void made all the more undeniable precisely because we can't distract ourselves from it with the pursuit of needs not met, since we do have it all.
In this time of plenty we feel a hunger that cannot be sated and a thirst that cannot be quenched. With all the promise of America now realized, with all the material blessings at our door we are lacking. In this world where nothing is denied us we feel an absence . The absence of divrai Hashem, the words of Hashem.
Our world is full of so many words, so much hype, the world is full of glitter and sound. Media is the god of the secular. Yet the renewal of the spirit is born precisely at the apex of the influence of media. Never have we been more inundated with sounds and sites. Media made a furious effort to earn our allegiance to the values it represents, the values of shallow beauty and transient pleasures. Yet in the end the emperor has no clothes. We listen but feel empty. We look but feel unfulfilled.
It is not the divrei of television or the divrei of the latest pop cd or the divrei of a fashion magazine that we seek...No it is the divrei Hashem, the words of G-d we yearn to hear. Words that will sate us and bring us the peace. Words full of meaning. Words enduring. Words that speak truth eternal. Words that link us to the transcend ant. Ironic that with all the noise in our world its words we feel most deprived of.....words of Hashem.
Its the hunger for those words that fostered the movement of renewal we experience in our day. And while many Jews sadly remain lost to our faith, one cannot help but marvel at the miracle of rebirth that fills us with hope.
Indeed these are the times Amos was referring to so many years ago. How privileged we are to live in them. May the renewal be complete and full so that all of the prophets vision be realized.
As he concludes "......And I will plant them on their land and they shall no more be plucked up out of the land which I have given them, saith Hashem Elokim".
Shabbat Shalom
Tuesday, May 5, 2009
Those Who Are Not Right
My younger brother is brilliant, intense and spiritual. He is a kind soul, always willing to do a favor. He is also mentally ill and has been for much of his life. It was not easy to grow up in the religious world with undiagnosed mental illness. In the yeshiva elementary school where he attended he was forever thought to be resistant to learning, disrespectful, and worst of all bad.
In the shule many people saw him as unusual and rejected him...distancing him from the community. He grew up feeling misunderstood and scorned, cast out, and rejected. He was a Jew without a home.
This weeks Parsha speaks of another Jew without a home and tells a tragic story. The story is of the blasphemer, one who cursed the Divine, and the consequences which saw him put to death by stoning. According to tradition (though nowhere found in the text) the man who blasphemed was a man rejected, scorned and alienated. He was born of an Israelite mother and an Egyptian father (this is in the text) . According to Rashi he converted to Judaism (since before the Torah membership in the community of Israel was based on the father not the mother as is it now). He wanted to be a Jew. He also wanted to be a member of a tribe. He made effort to settle with the tribe of Dan, from whence his mother came. But they refused him permission arguing that since his father was Egyptian he had no business settling among their tribe.
If that were not enough, their are sources in the medrash that say members of the tribe of Dan ridiculed him. They were the ones who informed him that his father was not only not a Jew but in fact he was the one killed by Moshe for beating an Israelite. When he came to resolve his dispute with the tribe of Dan in the court of Moshe his claim to belong was rebuffed. He was left an outsider, no father, no community, no home, and not even the sympathy of the Jewish authorities.
My brother wanted so much to be accepted. He was not. In response he felt angry at the Jewish community of his birth and went seeking a religious community that would accept him, with his problems. Unlike the blasphemer, thankfully he did not curse the Divine. But tragically and in many ways understandably he did reject the faith whose members found him unacceptable.
And my brother is not alone. If one checks out the journey of Jewish drop-outs who have been attracted to many expressions of spirituality over the years, a spirituality not ours, one finds that so many have a similar story to tell. They so often talk of having been estranged or worse from the community of their birth and mostly for reasons invalid.
No one is questioning the correctness is of the blasphemers position. The Torah is clear. Tribal affiliation is based on the father. And surely my brothers behavior was at times inappropriate and needing correction. We cannot change the law to accommodate the would be drop-out.
But that is no excuse to tease, ridicule or reject s/he who comes with an honest yearning to belong. Halacha applies to situations, hesed applies to persons.Please understand, I am not excusing the blasphemer, not by any means. But his reprehensible behavior should not cause us to over-look the situation that fostered it. I mean would it have been so awful for the tribe of Dan to allow him to live with them? Would it have violated any Torah law had they dealt with him with kindness? And even if the court had to rule against this man, could it have shown compassion to his painful circumstances?
This is personal to me. In truth I searched every commentary I could find to see if anyone wrote in a reflective way about the hurts inflicted on the blasphemer and the achrayut of community to care for its marginalized. But I found only condemnation of the blasphemer.
No one saw fit to ask "why was he hurting so badly as to curse the Divine?"
So I am left alone to raise the issue. But I must. I have seen my brother suffer. And there are many like him. There are many a community who reject and cite halacha to sustain there attitude. But too often without compassion.
My favorite Hassidic story is one told of Rebbe Yisroel of Rizhin. He told of a young Hasid who had to promise his father-in-law, a mitnaged, that he would no longer visit his Rebbe as a condition of being supported by him. Well some time after his wedding the Hassid had terrible longings for his Rebbe and against the condition set by his father-in-law he went back to learn with the Rebbe.
On hearing this the father-in-law cut off the young hassid's stipend. He was left with no source of income. He became malnourished, and then sick, and soon enough, he died.
The Rizhiner said that when Mashiach comes the young Hassid will come with a complaint over his circumstances, that they had been entirely unfair. Mashiach will go to the father-in-law and ask him how could you have done this? And the father-in-law will say " I consulted the Rav and he told me what I did was right". And then Mashiach will go to the Rav and ask him how could you have done this. And the Rav will say " I consulted the shulchan aruch and it told me my decision was right". And then Mashiach will go and kiss the Hassid on his forehead and say " the father-in-law was right, and the Rav was right and the shulchan aruch was right. But I, I come for those who are not right".
Those who are not right need and in many ways deserve the compassion. Its a shame they may have to wait till Mashiach comes to receive it.
Shabbat Shalom!
In the shule many people saw him as unusual and rejected him...distancing him from the community. He grew up feeling misunderstood and scorned, cast out, and rejected. He was a Jew without a home.
This weeks Parsha speaks of another Jew without a home and tells a tragic story. The story is of the blasphemer, one who cursed the Divine, and the consequences which saw him put to death by stoning. According to tradition (though nowhere found in the text) the man who blasphemed was a man rejected, scorned and alienated. He was born of an Israelite mother and an Egyptian father (this is in the text) . According to Rashi he converted to Judaism (since before the Torah membership in the community of Israel was based on the father not the mother as is it now). He wanted to be a Jew. He also wanted to be a member of a tribe. He made effort to settle with the tribe of Dan, from whence his mother came. But they refused him permission arguing that since his father was Egyptian he had no business settling among their tribe.
If that were not enough, their are sources in the medrash that say members of the tribe of Dan ridiculed him. They were the ones who informed him that his father was not only not a Jew but in fact he was the one killed by Moshe for beating an Israelite. When he came to resolve his dispute with the tribe of Dan in the court of Moshe his claim to belong was rebuffed. He was left an outsider, no father, no community, no home, and not even the sympathy of the Jewish authorities.
My brother wanted so much to be accepted. He was not. In response he felt angry at the Jewish community of his birth and went seeking a religious community that would accept him, with his problems. Unlike the blasphemer, thankfully he did not curse the Divine. But tragically and in many ways understandably he did reject the faith whose members found him unacceptable.
And my brother is not alone. If one checks out the journey of Jewish drop-outs who have been attracted to many expressions of spirituality over the years, a spirituality not ours, one finds that so many have a similar story to tell. They so often talk of having been estranged or worse from the community of their birth and mostly for reasons invalid.
No one is questioning the correctness is of the blasphemers position. The Torah is clear. Tribal affiliation is based on the father. And surely my brothers behavior was at times inappropriate and needing correction. We cannot change the law to accommodate the would be drop-out.
But that is no excuse to tease, ridicule or reject s/he who comes with an honest yearning to belong. Halacha applies to situations, hesed applies to persons.Please understand, I am not excusing the blasphemer, not by any means. But his reprehensible behavior should not cause us to over-look the situation that fostered it. I mean would it have been so awful for the tribe of Dan to allow him to live with them? Would it have violated any Torah law had they dealt with him with kindness? And even if the court had to rule against this man, could it have shown compassion to his painful circumstances?
This is personal to me. In truth I searched every commentary I could find to see if anyone wrote in a reflective way about the hurts inflicted on the blasphemer and the achrayut of community to care for its marginalized. But I found only condemnation of the blasphemer.
No one saw fit to ask "why was he hurting so badly as to curse the Divine?"
So I am left alone to raise the issue. But I must. I have seen my brother suffer. And there are many like him. There are many a community who reject and cite halacha to sustain there attitude. But too often without compassion.
My favorite Hassidic story is one told of Rebbe Yisroel of Rizhin. He told of a young Hasid who had to promise his father-in-law, a mitnaged, that he would no longer visit his Rebbe as a condition of being supported by him. Well some time after his wedding the Hassid had terrible longings for his Rebbe and against the condition set by his father-in-law he went back to learn with the Rebbe.
On hearing this the father-in-law cut off the young hassid's stipend. He was left with no source of income. He became malnourished, and then sick, and soon enough, he died.
The Rizhiner said that when Mashiach comes the young Hassid will come with a complaint over his circumstances, that they had been entirely unfair. Mashiach will go to the father-in-law and ask him how could you have done this? And the father-in-law will say " I consulted the Rav and he told me what I did was right". And then Mashiach will go to the Rav and ask him how could you have done this. And the Rav will say " I consulted the shulchan aruch and it told me my decision was right". And then Mashiach will go and kiss the Hassid on his forehead and say " the father-in-law was right, and the Rav was right and the shulchan aruch was right. But I, I come for those who are not right".
Those who are not right need and in many ways deserve the compassion. Its a shame they may have to wait till Mashiach comes to receive it.
Shabbat Shalom!
Tuesday, April 28, 2009
Reflections On Loving
What does it mean to be able to love another? Surely most of us would say that to the person of character what the other looks like should not really matter. I mean, if we really are persons of depth and substance then we would focus on the inner qualities of the person we are meeting not how pretty his/her face, how much he/she weighs, or even perhaps his/her age...right?
I once had a friend who when single was asked with whom he might like to be fixed-up. He said that to him it did not matter what the potential date looked like, only her character was important.
Wow I thought. If only I could be that way...not focused on the shallowness of the outer form but only the inner beauty. After-all don't we sing every Friday night the words of King Solomon from Mishle "Charm is deceitful and beauty is vain, the woman who is G-d fearing is the one to be praised."
Yet I like many of you both single and even married remain attracted on the basis of appearance. The Talmud is full of laws designed to make sure that the wife does not become ugly to her husband. And I suspect that its a deep and prevailing secret between many a husband and wife that the loss of the spark for physical intimacy between them has its roots in one, the other, or both losing the physical features they had at the time they were married.
This Shabbat we are challenged to the mitzva to love a fellow Jew. The verse of v'ahavta l'raiacha kamocha, "love thy neighbour as thyself". Its interesting that the mitzva to love another, while according to Rabbi Akiva a central mitzva of the Torah, does not even commence the verse it is found in. Rather the posuk begins " and you shall take no revenge neither in deeds nor in words (meaning we can't even say to another that I will not be like you but rather be kind and generous to you) from any of your people..." and then continues with the challenge to love your neighbour as yourself.
The message is clear. We are not mandated to some abstract love of humanity nor even to simply love the stranger, though that too is found in the Torah. We are called upon to love those we know and who have been mean to us, the person who refused do us the kindness we asked for, the person who scorned us, the one we have every right to want to take revenge on. Its him/her we are called up to, not only not take the revenge we are entitled to, but to engage with love!
We are called upon by the Torah to love even those we might by right hate. I mean loving someone who is nice to us is easy. For that there is no special reward anymore than for loving our children. To love someone who, if not for the Torah command, we would reject or even despise that is our mandate and challenge. And that is the great principle of the Torah according to Rabbi Akiva.
The Talmud provides a fascinating and, at first blush, surprising application of the requirement to love our neighbor as our-self. The Talmud teaches " a person may not have intercourse with his wife during the daytime hours....lest he see her physical form and find something not to his liking and she become ugly to him."
I must admit on thinking about that teaching I was floored. First, I thought, this isn't a strange woman he is having intercourse with, its his wife! How can her physical form whether she has gained weight or grown wrinkles effect his love for her. He lives with her, they share a home, children, a world built together. Can a man be so shallow as to feel repulsed by his wife just because he body type changed?
And still more, I would have thought the mitzva to love a friend would have led to a different conclusion. Rather than forbid intercourse during the daytime because of a husbands potential rejection, it should have mandated the husband to love his wife no matter what she look like.
Instead of challenging him (as his wife might do!), the Torah excuses his clearly shallow feelings and seeks to accommodate them.
As troubling as the Talmudic teaching is it seems to be revealing an important truth. My friend in the earlier part of the write-up was unusual. Most people are attracted on the basis of appearance. And even if its a shallow measure, it remains a truth that cannot be expected to be changed. Just as a person enjoys certain foods and not others, likes certain colors more than others, etc what attracts us is part of who we are. I can be called upon to treat with love every person, even one who has harmed me. But I cannot be expected to feel attraction or desire for someone no matter how deserving! Desire cannot be governed by law or even, for that matter, logic!
I know these thought may arouse some sentiments in you. They can feel personal. How many of us have felt it was unfair that we were rejected both in our marriages and in relationships on the basis of superficial values. We have a legitimate argument. But one that only proves life is unfair.
What we sing in Eishet Chayil about beauty being vain etc is absolutely true. But as the Rabbis would say we still need to turn out the lights!
Mazal Tov on the Medina's 61st!!!! Chag Samayach and Shabbat Shalom!
I once had a friend who when single was asked with whom he might like to be fixed-up. He said that to him it did not matter what the potential date looked like, only her character was important.
Wow I thought. If only I could be that way...not focused on the shallowness of the outer form but only the inner beauty. After-all don't we sing every Friday night the words of King Solomon from Mishle "Charm is deceitful and beauty is vain, the woman who is G-d fearing is the one to be praised."
Yet I like many of you both single and even married remain attracted on the basis of appearance. The Talmud is full of laws designed to make sure that the wife does not become ugly to her husband. And I suspect that its a deep and prevailing secret between many a husband and wife that the loss of the spark for physical intimacy between them has its roots in one, the other, or both losing the physical features they had at the time they were married.
This Shabbat we are challenged to the mitzva to love a fellow Jew. The verse of v'ahavta l'raiacha kamocha, "love thy neighbour as thyself". Its interesting that the mitzva to love another, while according to Rabbi Akiva a central mitzva of the Torah, does not even commence the verse it is found in. Rather the posuk begins " and you shall take no revenge neither in deeds nor in words (meaning we can't even say to another that I will not be like you but rather be kind and generous to you) from any of your people..." and then continues with the challenge to love your neighbour as yourself.
The message is clear. We are not mandated to some abstract love of humanity nor even to simply love the stranger, though that too is found in the Torah. We are called upon to love those we know and who have been mean to us, the person who refused do us the kindness we asked for, the person who scorned us, the one we have every right to want to take revenge on. Its him/her we are called up to, not only not take the revenge we are entitled to, but to engage with love!
We are called upon by the Torah to love even those we might by right hate. I mean loving someone who is nice to us is easy. For that there is no special reward anymore than for loving our children. To love someone who, if not for the Torah command, we would reject or even despise that is our mandate and challenge. And that is the great principle of the Torah according to Rabbi Akiva.
The Talmud provides a fascinating and, at first blush, surprising application of the requirement to love our neighbor as our-self. The Talmud teaches " a person may not have intercourse with his wife during the daytime hours....lest he see her physical form and find something not to his liking and she become ugly to him."
I must admit on thinking about that teaching I was floored. First, I thought, this isn't a strange woman he is having intercourse with, its his wife! How can her physical form whether she has gained weight or grown wrinkles effect his love for her. He lives with her, they share a home, children, a world built together. Can a man be so shallow as to feel repulsed by his wife just because he body type changed?
And still more, I would have thought the mitzva to love a friend would have led to a different conclusion. Rather than forbid intercourse during the daytime because of a husbands potential rejection, it should have mandated the husband to love his wife no matter what she look like.
Instead of challenging him (as his wife might do!), the Torah excuses his clearly shallow feelings and seeks to accommodate them.
As troubling as the Talmudic teaching is it seems to be revealing an important truth. My friend in the earlier part of the write-up was unusual. Most people are attracted on the basis of appearance. And even if its a shallow measure, it remains a truth that cannot be expected to be changed. Just as a person enjoys certain foods and not others, likes certain colors more than others, etc what attracts us is part of who we are. I can be called upon to treat with love every person, even one who has harmed me. But I cannot be expected to feel attraction or desire for someone no matter how deserving! Desire cannot be governed by law or even, for that matter, logic!
I know these thought may arouse some sentiments in you. They can feel personal. How many of us have felt it was unfair that we were rejected both in our marriages and in relationships on the basis of superficial values. We have a legitimate argument. But one that only proves life is unfair.
What we sing in Eishet Chayil about beauty being vain etc is absolutely true. But as the Rabbis would say we still need to turn out the lights!
Mazal Tov on the Medina's 61st!!!! Chag Samayach and Shabbat Shalom!
Tuesday, April 21, 2009
Learning from Mistakes!
I grew up near the boardwalk in the Rockaways of New York. Summer brought many Jews from the city out our way to enjoy the cooler temps. Some of them were observant, most were not.
One Shabbat afternoon my friend Irv and I took a walk to the boardwalk. It was always an exciting place to be...filled with small store fronts selling knishes and 'kosher' hot dogs...and of course the arcades filled with games of every kind. And while it was Shabbat it was a neat place to just walk around and enjoy the energy.
But this one Shabbat was memorable for me. As we walked an older man stopped us. He engaged us with a Yiddish accent. No doubt he noticed our yarmulkes and dress. He asked "boys are you shomer shabbos?" We said "yes".
He replied with only these words, and though I was then a boy of 9 years old I never forgot them, he said, "when you grow up you won't be!".
In this weeks Parsha we have the laws of the metzora. The metzora is mandated to live outside the camp of Israel. He is made to dress as a person in cherem, excommunication. He needs to grow his hair out. His clothes are to be torn. And the Torah tells us that he is to call out to anyone who may come his way "tamay! tamay!" meaning "impure! impure!
The sages explain the need for the leper to call out is to warn people not to come in contact with him and thereby become ritually unclean.
While all the laws of the ritual leper are inscrutable this law fascinates me. I mean is it not enough that the metzora has to endure all the shame associated with his disease. In the tradition he gets the leprosy as a punishment for lashon hara, speaking evil, even if true, of another person. He is cast out, dishonored, shamed. And lets not fool ourselves he may be the one with the disease but the speaking of loshon hara is a sin virtually everyone is guilty of. He is the one suffering for it! He must endure so much humiliation. And its not enough!
He must call out " I am impure! I am impure!
And yet I suspect in the lepers commitment to make sure that others do not become impure even as he is suffering, he earns his kaparah, atonement. In the fact that he wants others to be not like him he shows character and love for the very people his evil talk may have harmed.
Unlike the Jew in the story of my youth who so unsettled me, not because he was not observant, but because he seemed to need that we too would not keep the Shabbat, the metzora wants that others not suffer as he has, not become unclean as he has.
I will tell you another story, one I witnessed years later when I was a young rabbi in a small Southern town. Marty was a recent baal teshuva. He would walk a long ways to shule on Shabbat. Mr. Sugarman was an old Jew who lived too far from the shule to walk. He was from the old country. Like the man in the first story he too had a Yiddish accent.
One Shabbat Marty was walking to shule and he noticed Mr Sugarman pass him in his car as he was driving to shule. When Marty finally got to shule he said to Mr Sugarman " I saw you this morning". Mr Sugarman replied, " I saw you too". Marty said, "so why didn't you stop". And Mr Sugarman answered " I was afraid you would take a ride!".
How different the two stories. In both cases the men involved we not keeping the Shabbos. In both cases they knew the difference. In the first case however the man needed to feel that I too would be like him to mollify his guilt on desecrating the Shabbos. In the second Mr Sugarman felt "if I can't be as I should at least let me make sure I don't mislead others".
Thats the message of the metzora. And its not an easy one to embrace. Most of us think too frum is just more than us; too liberal just less than us. We all have our chesronot, shortcomings.
Where do we act like the metzora acknowledge our flaw and warn others 'not to be like us'? When do we do like Mr Sugarman and say "true enough I am not as I should be...please don't follow me!"
It takes courage to call out "I am impure!" " I am impure!". It takes a large measure of humility.
Yet I for one admire the Mr Sugarmans of the world much more than those who act as if they are without flaw and have no warning to give. One can learn as much from a persons mistakes as from there successes, if only they will admit to them!
How many a parent might well teach their child so much more if they would share where they failed as well as where they succeeded, what they have struggled with as well as what they have overcome. How many a teacher would model more by sharing not only how 'good' they are, but how human!
We are all flawed. The metzora is each of us. The lessons universal. Why pretend!
Its great to back in Eretz Yisrael....Shabbat Shalom!
One Shabbat afternoon my friend Irv and I took a walk to the boardwalk. It was always an exciting place to be...filled with small store fronts selling knishes and 'kosher' hot dogs...and of course the arcades filled with games of every kind. And while it was Shabbat it was a neat place to just walk around and enjoy the energy.
But this one Shabbat was memorable for me. As we walked an older man stopped us. He engaged us with a Yiddish accent. No doubt he noticed our yarmulkes and dress. He asked "boys are you shomer shabbos?" We said "yes".
He replied with only these words, and though I was then a boy of 9 years old I never forgot them, he said, "when you grow up you won't be!".
In this weeks Parsha we have the laws of the metzora. The metzora is mandated to live outside the camp of Israel. He is made to dress as a person in cherem, excommunication. He needs to grow his hair out. His clothes are to be torn. And the Torah tells us that he is to call out to anyone who may come his way "tamay! tamay!" meaning "impure! impure!
The sages explain the need for the leper to call out is to warn people not to come in contact with him and thereby become ritually unclean.
While all the laws of the ritual leper are inscrutable this law fascinates me. I mean is it not enough that the metzora has to endure all the shame associated with his disease. In the tradition he gets the leprosy as a punishment for lashon hara, speaking evil, even if true, of another person. He is cast out, dishonored, shamed. And lets not fool ourselves he may be the one with the disease but the speaking of loshon hara is a sin virtually everyone is guilty of. He is the one suffering for it! He must endure so much humiliation. And its not enough!
He must call out " I am impure! I am impure!
And yet I suspect in the lepers commitment to make sure that others do not become impure even as he is suffering, he earns his kaparah, atonement. In the fact that he wants others to be not like him he shows character and love for the very people his evil talk may have harmed.
Unlike the Jew in the story of my youth who so unsettled me, not because he was not observant, but because he seemed to need that we too would not keep the Shabbat, the metzora wants that others not suffer as he has, not become unclean as he has.
I will tell you another story, one I witnessed years later when I was a young rabbi in a small Southern town. Marty was a recent baal teshuva. He would walk a long ways to shule on Shabbat. Mr. Sugarman was an old Jew who lived too far from the shule to walk. He was from the old country. Like the man in the first story he too had a Yiddish accent.
One Shabbat Marty was walking to shule and he noticed Mr Sugarman pass him in his car as he was driving to shule. When Marty finally got to shule he said to Mr Sugarman " I saw you this morning". Mr Sugarman replied, " I saw you too". Marty said, "so why didn't you stop". And Mr Sugarman answered " I was afraid you would take a ride!".
How different the two stories. In both cases the men involved we not keeping the Shabbos. In both cases they knew the difference. In the first case however the man needed to feel that I too would be like him to mollify his guilt on desecrating the Shabbos. In the second Mr Sugarman felt "if I can't be as I should at least let me make sure I don't mislead others".
Thats the message of the metzora. And its not an easy one to embrace. Most of us think too frum is just more than us; too liberal just less than us. We all have our chesronot, shortcomings.
Where do we act like the metzora acknowledge our flaw and warn others 'not to be like us'? When do we do like Mr Sugarman and say "true enough I am not as I should be...please don't follow me!"
It takes courage to call out "I am impure!" " I am impure!". It takes a large measure of humility.
Yet I for one admire the Mr Sugarmans of the world much more than those who act as if they are without flaw and have no warning to give. One can learn as much from a persons mistakes as from there successes, if only they will admit to them!
How many a parent might well teach their child so much more if they would share where they failed as well as where they succeeded, what they have struggled with as well as what they have overcome. How many a teacher would model more by sharing not only how 'good' they are, but how human!
We are all flawed. The metzora is each of us. The lessons universal. Why pretend!
Its great to back in Eretz Yisrael....Shabbat Shalom!
Sunday, April 5, 2009
Passing Over: Whats in a Name?
The chag is almost here. The furious last minute preparations are consuming. I will sadly be leaving Eretz Yisrael to be with my widowed mother for Yom Tov. Its not easy to leave the holy land. Our sages say that one should always part from a friend with words of Torah. So with that in mind I share some holiday reflections with the hope it will provide a bracha for both you and me.
We call this wonderful holiday of our nation's birth Pesach....The sacrifice that all Israel brings and partakes of on seder night is called by the same name. Simply understood we are calling the chag and the sacrifice a name meant to reflect on the the angel of death passing over the houses of the Israelites when he smote the first born Egyptians. Why? Why with so many acts of meaning associated with the geula, the redemption, do we choose to focus on that event to name the holiday? Why is the passing over so significant. Its true that without the passing over our first born too might have died, but that does not in itself seem to have to do with the act of geula .
Some time ago I came across a teaching of Rebe Nachman on this subject that continues to be meaningful to me today. As I recall he said that the title of the chag as Pesach was meant for us to learn that the key ingredient to our being bnei chorin, children of freedom is to be able to pass over. If we are going to be able to choose to become who we can ultimately become...to realize our potential and be free in fact as much as in theory then we will need to be able to pass over.
Pass over all the feelings of our limitations based on the failures of the past. Pass over our sense of inadequacy that keeps us stuck saying our dye has been cast.Pass over the feelings of resentment for all the unjustified hurts inflicted on us by others so that we can be free of the enslavement of enmity.
All becoming is about passing over. And the truth is we had to pass over in order to leave Egypt. After all our tradition teaches us that we were deeply immersed in a life of impurity. When we came to the sea the angels said "the Egyptians and the Israelite are both idol worshippers...why save the Israelites"...For us to be feel the gift of freedom at the time of the geula we had to pass over our own sense of unworthiness in order to embrace the moment and accept the Divine invitation to freedom.
The Rabbis taught that most of the Jews in Egypt died there, refusing the invitation to be liberated. I can understand why. They simply could not accept what they felt they did not deserve. They could not pass over the feelings that they were in that moment unworthy. And yet in order to become who we were meant to be that is exactly what we needed to do....then....and still now!!!
What do you have to pass over? What do I have to pass over? The obstacle to our reaching our tachlit is not that we are unaware of our flaws...most of us know those only too well...Rather the issue for us is that we are too much aware! We are enslaved by the failures of yesterday. It is those we need to pass over in order to experience the geula as persons and community.
And I do not mean passing over only the lapses that belong to us. If we are to be totally free to become who Hashem wants us to become we need to pass over the hurts others have inflicted on us and on the ones we love. Only when we have let them go can we free ourselves of the enslavement of hatred and resentment.
Yes Pesach is a wonderful name for this chag of our freedom. And the name defines the work before us in order to know the gift of geula in its truest sense. This year when we sit at the seder, as much as we share with each other the experience of herut in our lives by telling stories, let us tell as well that which we are prepared to pass over so that we can realize the tachlit Hashem intends for us!
Chag Kasher V'samayach....L'hitraot!
We call this wonderful holiday of our nation's birth Pesach....The sacrifice that all Israel brings and partakes of on seder night is called by the same name. Simply understood we are calling the chag and the sacrifice a name meant to reflect on the the angel of death passing over the houses of the Israelites when he smote the first born Egyptians. Why? Why with so many acts of meaning associated with the geula, the redemption, do we choose to focus on that event to name the holiday? Why is the passing over so significant. Its true that without the passing over our first born too might have died, but that does not in itself seem to have to do with the act of geula .
Some time ago I came across a teaching of Rebe Nachman on this subject that continues to be meaningful to me today. As I recall he said that the title of the chag as Pesach was meant for us to learn that the key ingredient to our being bnei chorin, children of freedom is to be able to pass over. If we are going to be able to choose to become who we can ultimately become...to realize our potential and be free in fact as much as in theory then we will need to be able to pass over.
Pass over all the feelings of our limitations based on the failures of the past. Pass over our sense of inadequacy that keeps us stuck saying our dye has been cast.Pass over the feelings of resentment for all the unjustified hurts inflicted on us by others so that we can be free of the enslavement of enmity.
All becoming is about passing over. And the truth is we had to pass over in order to leave Egypt. After all our tradition teaches us that we were deeply immersed in a life of impurity. When we came to the sea the angels said "the Egyptians and the Israelite are both idol worshippers...why save the Israelites"...For us to be feel the gift of freedom at the time of the geula we had to pass over our own sense of unworthiness in order to embrace the moment and accept the Divine invitation to freedom.
The Rabbis taught that most of the Jews in Egypt died there, refusing the invitation to be liberated. I can understand why. They simply could not accept what they felt they did not deserve. They could not pass over the feelings that they were in that moment unworthy. And yet in order to become who we were meant to be that is exactly what we needed to do....then....and still now!!!
What do you have to pass over? What do I have to pass over? The obstacle to our reaching our tachlit is not that we are unaware of our flaws...most of us know those only too well...Rather the issue for us is that we are too much aware! We are enslaved by the failures of yesterday. It is those we need to pass over in order to experience the geula as persons and community.
And I do not mean passing over only the lapses that belong to us. If we are to be totally free to become who Hashem wants us to become we need to pass over the hurts others have inflicted on us and on the ones we love. Only when we have let them go can we free ourselves of the enslavement of hatred and resentment.
Yes Pesach is a wonderful name for this chag of our freedom. And the name defines the work before us in order to know the gift of geula in its truest sense. This year when we sit at the seder, as much as we share with each other the experience of herut in our lives by telling stories, let us tell as well that which we are prepared to pass over so that we can realize the tachlit Hashem intends for us!
Chag Kasher V'samayach....L'hitraot!
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