According to tradition there are 613 commandments in the Torah. They pertain to everything from the way we plant our fields to our style of dress and from the way we make war to the rites of divorce. No sphere of life seems outside the perview of a Torah mandate. The Torah provides a total life discipline. What's surprising is that not only does the Torah govern behaviors. It also sets expectations for our feelings.On the holidays we are commanded to be happy. In our relationship with G-d we are called upon to feel fear. And in three different relationships the Torah calls on us to love. One is found in the Book of Devarim and is part of the Sh'ma. "And you shall love Hashem your G-d with all your heart and all your soul and all your might." The second two are in the readings of this week in the parsha of Kedoshim. The first reads, "...and you shall love your neighbor as your self." And the second "If a stranger shall live in your land don't antagonize him. The stranger who dwells with you shall be no different than a citizen for you and you shall love him like yourself, because you too were strangers in the land of Egypt, I am Hashem your G-d."
Love of G-d. Love of our neighbor. Love of the stranger. Three commandments to love. Each a call to the same emotion. Yet each challenging us in a very different way. Let's explore the call to love in its variety in both its expectations and limitations.
The first love is the love we are meant to have for G-d. Note the verse which challenges us to this love only tells us the extent of the love. It does not tell us the way it is to be expressed. We are called upon to love Hashem with all of who we are and posess. Nothing is to be held back. But how we express that love must be on G-d's terms, not ours! Indeed the Torah gives us the means whereby to express that love. It provides us with the mitzvot. It would be inappropriate to express my total love for G-d by causing myself harm even if I am doing so to show my love. I am not free to decide for myself what my love for G-d will look like. G-d is not like us. We can adore Him but never know Him, except what He chooses to show us in His Torah. To presume that He will find whatever we choose to do a loving gesture is to make an assumption that is not loving at all. We can each have an authentic feeling of love in our own way. But acts of love are always dependent on the will and desire of the one we love. A loving act is defined by the one being loved not by the lover!
"And you shall love your neighbor as yourself". We are each charged with the responsibility to love our fellow Jew. Here the Torah does not tell us we must love another with all of our heart, all of our soul and all of our might. The Torah does not expect or even desire that we give ourselves away to another the way we are mandated to give ourselves away with a total love for Hashem. On the contrary the Torah puts limits on the love. We are to love another not more than ourselves. If we give ourselves away to someone else, or make them the center of our life, we have misunderstood our call. Moerover if we do not sufficiently love ourselves for who we are, instead prefering to love and idolize someone else, who we see as more worthy, we have compromised the love and corrupted the mitzvah.
And finally we come to the love of the stranger. Surely the hardest love is to love someone who is different from us. Typically, inorder to love someone, we look to find points in common. The stranger lives on the margins. S/he does not belong. What we will often think to do to foster a love for them is to invite them into our world, make them guests in our home or synagogue. We reach out to the stranger inorder to include them in our world, indeed to make them no stranger at all. That approach would be in keeping with our earlier commandment to love our neighbor like ourselves. But that is not exactly what the Torah asks of us here. While the verse that calls on us to love a fellow Jew and the one that impels us to love a stranger have the same key phraseology, the latter has an additional caveat.
It concludes "...for you were strangers in the land of Egypt..." From my understanding the Torah is not just telling us why we should love the stranger. After all no one in many a millenia can recall being a stranger in Egypt. No, the Torah is instead telling us how to love the stranger. We are not meant to love him/her the way we love our neighbor, by inviting them into our life and care, by including them in our world. No, the love for the stranger is different. To love them we are called upon to enter their world. We are asked by Hashem to remember what is means to be marginalized and share the struggle with them.
Truth is we cannot make a stranger not a stranger by sharing a meal with them in our home. The poor, the sick, the convert, do not become no longer marginalized by a single act of inclusiveness no matter how spectacular the gesture. A stranger remains a stranger. To love the stranger is not to take their mind off that reality or pretend it is not so. On the contrary, the work of loving the stranger is to find a way to enter their world, to again be a stranger ourselves. How you ask? Well when we visit the sick and they are afraid of the consquences of their illness we too need to find the fear in our own lives and join them. Its no good in most cases to project strength and simply say "be unafraid like me". When we are talking to someone who is unemployed we would do well to share our own journey of life instability so as to join them on the margins, rather than project security and let them taste our success. Tellng another who is struggling of our triumphs may include them for a brief moment in our story, but the work of loving the stranger begs of us that we enter their story, that they be less alone, less estranged!
At one level it might be said love is always love. Yet the Torah commands we love in three different mitzvot. Each mitzva presents us with its own unique challenge. In the love of Hashem we need forever be careful lest we set the form the love takes instead of leaving it to G-d. In the love of another we need be oh so careful to set the limits on the love lest we give ourselves away in the guise of love and compromise it. In the love of the stranger we need to realize that we need to first become a stranger ourselves inorder to love another the way the other needs to be loved to mitigate their sense of aloneness.
Yes, love is a feeling. But it is also a work. To learn to love well is the challenge of a lifetime.
Shabbat Shalom
Thursday, April 18, 2013
Thursday, April 11, 2013
Finding Flaw
I finally did it. I finally made a doctors appointment. About three years ago a pimple of sorts sprung up on my inner forearm. I have known for years that I have the potential for skin cancer. I have many moles on my body. I was told that I should see a dermatologist every couple of years to monitor for any new growth. And that was fifteen years ago. In the past fifteen years I went once to a specialist, once! When this growth developed three years ago I knew it required examination. Yet I did nothing. Only now, when a couple of weeks ago it changed form, did I feel I could no longer delay. Smart? hardly! If my car needed attention would I delay and risk further damage? If my investments were tanking in the stock market would I sit by and watch them sink? If my home was beset with termites would I wait to call the exterminator? Of course not! So then how is it when it comes to the wellbeing of my person, with the stakes even higher, that I can be so cavalier and endlessly put off paying them mind?
This week we read two portions in the Torah, Tazriya and Metzorah. The bulk of the content concerns the laws of a spiritual form of leprosy. It tells us that if a person finds a mark on his body, clothing or home, a discoloration and/or lump, s/he needs to have it seen by the kohen, priest, to determine if s/he, or his/her clothes or his/her home is 'tamay' , ritually impure. If the tzaraat. leprosy, is on his/her body s/he will need to dwelll outside the camp until it heals. If it is in his/her home or clothing, in the worst case, the clothes or home may become unusable. The laws are only relevant in Temple times. And they concern for the most part the kohen who must make the examination. The Torah provides him with the guidelines to determibe puriry or impurity. The laws have no applicability today. The passages are long and full of detail. Its hard to extract a moral from them. Yes, this too is Torah. But that alone does not make the passages interesting or engaging. It's a struggle to find meaning in them.
This year I found a mirror to my irrational behavior in the story of the one beset with tzaraat. The Torah in the early section of the first portion tells us that if a person finds a lump, a growth that appears leporous on his body then "he shall be brought to Aharon the priest or to one of his sons who are priests". Note the Torah uses the term "v'huva", "and he shall be brought". The implication is that the person who has the unusual growth is not like to seek the assessment of the priest of his own volition.
S/he will need to be brought in for examination. Yet in the second of the two readings when we are told of the tzaraat that might be found in the home, the Torah implies the one whose home is infested will come on his own. The verse reads "And he who has the plague will come to the kohen and say 'I see what appears to be a plague in my home'". Here, with regards the plague of the home, their is no expectation that s/he will have to be brought. On the contrary the verse tells us that not only will s/he likely come on his/her own, s/he will make a speech to the kohen announcing his/her circumstances.
Why? Why does the Torah imply that in the case of a plague of the person s/he will likely avoid examination and yet when it comes to the very same plague but this time found in his/her property the person will come in on his/her own and announce his/her situation?
It is here that I see the mirror to myself, and I might add, to many others who may well be like me. The Torah in these passages is telling us that when we are dealing with a flaw in ourselves we tend to dismisss the urgency of our circumstances. Typically when we have an issue, medically or otherwise, we play it down, ignoring it, hoping it will go away. Only when we cannot put it off any longer do we pay it attention. I was a chaplain for many years. I visited oh so many persons who delayed having their breasts or prostate examined, even when their were clear signs that something was wrong. They simply refused to see the obvious. And in some cases their delay of treatment, ultimately and tragically, cost them their lives. Yet these very same people who found it so difficult to acknowledge a malfunction or growth in their body would be so attentive to a problem with their washing machine, their car, or any of their assets, including their children. If something was amiss in another part of their life they tended to it immediately. Yet when it affected their body they seemed deaf and dumb to the reality.
I wonder why? Why do we deny our physical issues even to our own harm? Why will the one with leprosy of the body avoid the assesment s/he needs yet take initiative to redress the leprosy of his/her home? Why do I fix my car before I fix myself?
I suspect that the answer has to do with shame! Our physical malfunction causes us shame. We are loathe to talk about it. We prefer to delay or even deny rather that have it explored and examined. It's not a rational shame. Shame never is rational. But that does not make the feeling of shame less real. We feel no shame when our car breaks down, or our house has termites. Yet when we sense our colon is not working as it should we feel shame! We are ashamed of our compromised bodies. And that shame, at times, keeps us from pursuing treatment that may make the difference between life and death.
So this coming week I will go to the doctor. I hope my foolish shame will not have significant consequences. But even if this time I escape unscathed, neither you nor I can afford to indulge the feeling of shame when it comes to our wellbeing. We need to get over it! We need to be as dilligent with our person as we are with our assets, even more dilligent!
I hope next year when we read these portions again we will find in them a mirror to the persons we used to be. But they will no longer mirror the persons we are!
This entry represents the 200th edition of "The Torah and the Self".
I am grateful to Hashem for giving me the opportuntity to write and share.
I am grateful to you for reading and thinking with me!
We have travelled together!
Shabbat Shalom
This week we read two portions in the Torah, Tazriya and Metzorah. The bulk of the content concerns the laws of a spiritual form of leprosy. It tells us that if a person finds a mark on his body, clothing or home, a discoloration and/or lump, s/he needs to have it seen by the kohen, priest, to determine if s/he, or his/her clothes or his/her home is 'tamay' , ritually impure. If the tzaraat. leprosy, is on his/her body s/he will need to dwelll outside the camp until it heals. If it is in his/her home or clothing, in the worst case, the clothes or home may become unusable. The laws are only relevant in Temple times. And they concern for the most part the kohen who must make the examination. The Torah provides him with the guidelines to determibe puriry or impurity. The laws have no applicability today. The passages are long and full of detail. Its hard to extract a moral from them. Yes, this too is Torah. But that alone does not make the passages interesting or engaging. It's a struggle to find meaning in them.
This year I found a mirror to my irrational behavior in the story of the one beset with tzaraat. The Torah in the early section of the first portion tells us that if a person finds a lump, a growth that appears leporous on his body then "he shall be brought to Aharon the priest or to one of his sons who are priests". Note the Torah uses the term "v'huva", "and he shall be brought". The implication is that the person who has the unusual growth is not like to seek the assessment of the priest of his own volition.
S/he will need to be brought in for examination. Yet in the second of the two readings when we are told of the tzaraat that might be found in the home, the Torah implies the one whose home is infested will come on his own. The verse reads "And he who has the plague will come to the kohen and say 'I see what appears to be a plague in my home'". Here, with regards the plague of the home, their is no expectation that s/he will have to be brought. On the contrary the verse tells us that not only will s/he likely come on his/her own, s/he will make a speech to the kohen announcing his/her circumstances.
Why? Why does the Torah imply that in the case of a plague of the person s/he will likely avoid examination and yet when it comes to the very same plague but this time found in his/her property the person will come in on his/her own and announce his/her situation?
It is here that I see the mirror to myself, and I might add, to many others who may well be like me. The Torah in these passages is telling us that when we are dealing with a flaw in ourselves we tend to dismisss the urgency of our circumstances. Typically when we have an issue, medically or otherwise, we play it down, ignoring it, hoping it will go away. Only when we cannot put it off any longer do we pay it attention. I was a chaplain for many years. I visited oh so many persons who delayed having their breasts or prostate examined, even when their were clear signs that something was wrong. They simply refused to see the obvious. And in some cases their delay of treatment, ultimately and tragically, cost them their lives. Yet these very same people who found it so difficult to acknowledge a malfunction or growth in their body would be so attentive to a problem with their washing machine, their car, or any of their assets, including their children. If something was amiss in another part of their life they tended to it immediately. Yet when it affected their body they seemed deaf and dumb to the reality.
I wonder why? Why do we deny our physical issues even to our own harm? Why will the one with leprosy of the body avoid the assesment s/he needs yet take initiative to redress the leprosy of his/her home? Why do I fix my car before I fix myself?
I suspect that the answer has to do with shame! Our physical malfunction causes us shame. We are loathe to talk about it. We prefer to delay or even deny rather that have it explored and examined. It's not a rational shame. Shame never is rational. But that does not make the feeling of shame less real. We feel no shame when our car breaks down, or our house has termites. Yet when we sense our colon is not working as it should we feel shame! We are ashamed of our compromised bodies. And that shame, at times, keeps us from pursuing treatment that may make the difference between life and death.
So this coming week I will go to the doctor. I hope my foolish shame will not have significant consequences. But even if this time I escape unscathed, neither you nor I can afford to indulge the feeling of shame when it comes to our wellbeing. We need to get over it! We need to be as dilligent with our person as we are with our assets, even more dilligent!
I hope next year when we read these portions again we will find in them a mirror to the persons we used to be. But they will no longer mirror the persons we are!
This entry represents the 200th edition of "The Torah and the Self".
I am grateful to Hashem for giving me the opportuntity to write and share.
I am grateful to you for reading and thinking with me!
We have travelled together!
Shabbat Shalom
Thursday, April 4, 2013
Anger Redux
Is anger bad? Is it bad for a person to get angry? For much of my life I believed anger was a bad emotion and that really good people don't get angry. During those years I fought my angry impulses whenever they arose. I was determined to vanquish anger. I wanted to be a man of peace, forever calm and loving. I knew well the traditional teachings of the Jewish ethicists, the baale musar, who decried anger as a most evil trait. I reminded myself of the Talmud's admonition that "anyone who angers it is as if s/he worshiped idols". I tried meditation. I tried reading spiritual texts. I gave myself little lectures on the subject. And in the end, as you can imagine, I had little success. Yes for a period of time I might keep my temper from flaring but eventually I would succumb. Try as I might I failed again and again to rid myself of my feelings of anger. All I succeeded to do was become angry at myself for getting angry.
Yet as I matured I began to wonder if the problem was in me or in my assumption about anger.I began to re-examine anger and whether it truly was an evil trait. In this week's parsha, that of Shmini, Moshe gets angry at the two surviving sons of his brother Aharon for not eating the sin offering as the laws required. And it's not the only time Moshe gets angry in the Torah. In my count we are told of at least six time when Moshe got angry, and he is the exemplar of spiritual excellence. Moreover our tradition ritualizes anger and validates it. When a near relative dies we are mandated not only to cry but to vent anger. The tearing of the clothing, a requirement by halacha, is to express our anger at our loss. If anger was bad why give it expression?
What's more I began to learn about the psychic issues around anger and emotional health. Anger is an emotion. To deny our feelings is not a good thing at all. When one feels angry and cannot acknowledge the feeling, deeming it unacceptable, one tends to internalize the anger. It can lead to depression and/or be somatized in physical ailments and diseases. Years ago Harriet Goldher Learner wrote a classic on anger and women titled "The Dance of Anger". She is strong is arguing that women do themselves and their relationships great harm when they deny the feeling of anger within. And we might well wonder are those who don't allow their anger for whatever reason, safety or piety, really not angry? Have they conquered their anger or just forced it undergound? The peaceful man or woman may be someone who has simply repressed his/her feelings. We pay a price for repressed feelings!
So what now? How do I reconcile the negative attitudes about anger found in the tradition with the contrary evidence also found there. And how do I remain whole and healthy if I cut off an important feeling and stifle an emotional expression?
I suspect part of our issue with anger is our difficulty in examining it closely. When we are in it it is consuming and hardly a matter for analysis. When we don't feel it we are loathe to come near. Anger is rarely pretty.
Let's you and I examine anger together. It's a big emotion. It is weighty and complex. We can't do it all. But I think we can take some first steps. And in examining anger alone, without any further action taken, already we make strides in becoming it's master rather than its slave.
When Moshe in this week's parsha got angry what we notice is how controlled the anger was. Yes he had the feeling. Yes he expressed the feeling. But he was careful to give it voice in a productive mannner. He expressed the anger, the anger did not express him!
Look at the story. Moshe was in fact angry with Aharon. He was angry that Aharon did not conduct the rituals as Moshe thought proper.
Yet he voiced the anger at Aharon's sons, Elazar and Itamar. Why? so as not to embarass his older brother! The anger was not the problem so long as he vented it properly. And when Moshe confronted Elazar and Itamar he does not belittle them. He does not get petty.
He rebuked them for what he perceived was a serious failing. And indeed when Aharon explained to Moshe why he and his sons did what they did Moshe acknowledged that he was wrong, and they were right. The Torah does not say Moshe apologized. He was not wrong in being angry. There is nothing wrong in being angry if we channel it correctly. Anger is a feeling. It can be neither good not bad of itself. It's only the expression of it that can be at times wrongful. Moshe had nothing for which to apologize.
When we say to someone after a fit of anger "I am sorry for being angry" we are not sorry for the right reason. There is nothing wrong with being angry initself. Its the way we behaved when angry that may well warrant the apology.
Let's move a step deeper into the pool of anger. When someone we love is angry often our first question is "who are you angry at?".
It is as if anger without a a target of the anger is unacceptable. If we have no one we can be angry at we have no right to be angry.
But that is a patently false assumption. When the bereaved family tear the garments in expression of anger after the death of a loved one who are they angry at? G-d? Can't be. It would not be acceptable and immediately prior they make a blessing accepting G-d's judgement as just. No the mourners have no target of their anger. "Who are you angry at" is the wrong question. The critical question to ask is "what's making you angry?". Anger always has a cause. It need not have a target! All too often we dump our anger on someone as if they caused it. That may well be why anger is deemed so much a negative emotion. And indeed when we are angry, if we are to use the emotion well, we need to look at its source. Finding a scapegoat is counter-productive. It shows a character flaw in us rather than reflect of anger's evil.
Even as I can learn to better contain my anger, without denying it. I can grow as a mature and balanced person so that what makes me angry is truly worthy of the emotion. When I was young every time my football team lost I got angry, and that was quite often! Now I may be disappointed but not angry. As we grow spiritually what angers us becomes less about selfish designs that got thwarted and more about others we love and care for and their wellbeing. It's true Moshe got angry many times in the Torah. Yet he was only punished for one episode of anger. Each time Moshe got angry it was prompted by concerns for others. In this week's parsha Moshe got angry when he thought Aharon and his surviving sons had not followed the required rituals of the sacrifices. You recall this all happened in the aftermath of the tragic death of Nadav and Avihu, Aharon's eldests, who died that day after a violation of ritual in the Temple. Moshe feared a further tragedy. He got angry because he loved Aharon and because he loved his nephews. He got angry as a parent might get angry if their young child crossed the street without looking both way so as to be safe. The parent's anger is stimulated by love.
Vanquishing anger is neither a useful nor desirable goal. We need to have a relationship with anger. It's not helpful to make it an enemy.
How we get angry matters. We need learn to express the feeling when it arises in a constructive way, to neither dump it on people who don't deserve it nor beat people up with it even when they have triggered our wrath. And what makes us angry matters. We need to spiritually mature so that we are more loving and understanding of others and of life as a whole. In growing spirtitualy we become more tolerant and less reactive when we don't get what we want. The bigger person gets angry just like the little person. The difference is what makes them angry ...and how they express it!
So we made a beginning. We made a start at taking the veil off the dreaded demon we call "anger". Talking about it is the first step in becoming it's master. The work lies before us. Our agenda is not to not get angry, but rather to get angry well!
Shabbat Shalom
Yet as I matured I began to wonder if the problem was in me or in my assumption about anger.I began to re-examine anger and whether it truly was an evil trait. In this week's parsha, that of Shmini, Moshe gets angry at the two surviving sons of his brother Aharon for not eating the sin offering as the laws required. And it's not the only time Moshe gets angry in the Torah. In my count we are told of at least six time when Moshe got angry, and he is the exemplar of spiritual excellence. Moreover our tradition ritualizes anger and validates it. When a near relative dies we are mandated not only to cry but to vent anger. The tearing of the clothing, a requirement by halacha, is to express our anger at our loss. If anger was bad why give it expression?
What's more I began to learn about the psychic issues around anger and emotional health. Anger is an emotion. To deny our feelings is not a good thing at all. When one feels angry and cannot acknowledge the feeling, deeming it unacceptable, one tends to internalize the anger. It can lead to depression and/or be somatized in physical ailments and diseases. Years ago Harriet Goldher Learner wrote a classic on anger and women titled "The Dance of Anger". She is strong is arguing that women do themselves and their relationships great harm when they deny the feeling of anger within. And we might well wonder are those who don't allow their anger for whatever reason, safety or piety, really not angry? Have they conquered their anger or just forced it undergound? The peaceful man or woman may be someone who has simply repressed his/her feelings. We pay a price for repressed feelings!
So what now? How do I reconcile the negative attitudes about anger found in the tradition with the contrary evidence also found there. And how do I remain whole and healthy if I cut off an important feeling and stifle an emotional expression?
I suspect part of our issue with anger is our difficulty in examining it closely. When we are in it it is consuming and hardly a matter for analysis. When we don't feel it we are loathe to come near. Anger is rarely pretty.
Let's you and I examine anger together. It's a big emotion. It is weighty and complex. We can't do it all. But I think we can take some first steps. And in examining anger alone, without any further action taken, already we make strides in becoming it's master rather than its slave.
When Moshe in this week's parsha got angry what we notice is how controlled the anger was. Yes he had the feeling. Yes he expressed the feeling. But he was careful to give it voice in a productive mannner. He expressed the anger, the anger did not express him!
Look at the story. Moshe was in fact angry with Aharon. He was angry that Aharon did not conduct the rituals as Moshe thought proper.
Yet he voiced the anger at Aharon's sons, Elazar and Itamar. Why? so as not to embarass his older brother! The anger was not the problem so long as he vented it properly. And when Moshe confronted Elazar and Itamar he does not belittle them. He does not get petty.
He rebuked them for what he perceived was a serious failing. And indeed when Aharon explained to Moshe why he and his sons did what they did Moshe acknowledged that he was wrong, and they were right. The Torah does not say Moshe apologized. He was not wrong in being angry. There is nothing wrong in being angry if we channel it correctly. Anger is a feeling. It can be neither good not bad of itself. It's only the expression of it that can be at times wrongful. Moshe had nothing for which to apologize.
When we say to someone after a fit of anger "I am sorry for being angry" we are not sorry for the right reason. There is nothing wrong with being angry initself. Its the way we behaved when angry that may well warrant the apology.
Let's move a step deeper into the pool of anger. When someone we love is angry often our first question is "who are you angry at?".
It is as if anger without a a target of the anger is unacceptable. If we have no one we can be angry at we have no right to be angry.
But that is a patently false assumption. When the bereaved family tear the garments in expression of anger after the death of a loved one who are they angry at? G-d? Can't be. It would not be acceptable and immediately prior they make a blessing accepting G-d's judgement as just. No the mourners have no target of their anger. "Who are you angry at" is the wrong question. The critical question to ask is "what's making you angry?". Anger always has a cause. It need not have a target! All too often we dump our anger on someone as if they caused it. That may well be why anger is deemed so much a negative emotion. And indeed when we are angry, if we are to use the emotion well, we need to look at its source. Finding a scapegoat is counter-productive. It shows a character flaw in us rather than reflect of anger's evil.
Even as I can learn to better contain my anger, without denying it. I can grow as a mature and balanced person so that what makes me angry is truly worthy of the emotion. When I was young every time my football team lost I got angry, and that was quite often! Now I may be disappointed but not angry. As we grow spiritually what angers us becomes less about selfish designs that got thwarted and more about others we love and care for and their wellbeing. It's true Moshe got angry many times in the Torah. Yet he was only punished for one episode of anger. Each time Moshe got angry it was prompted by concerns for others. In this week's parsha Moshe got angry when he thought Aharon and his surviving sons had not followed the required rituals of the sacrifices. You recall this all happened in the aftermath of the tragic death of Nadav and Avihu, Aharon's eldests, who died that day after a violation of ritual in the Temple. Moshe feared a further tragedy. He got angry because he loved Aharon and because he loved his nephews. He got angry as a parent might get angry if their young child crossed the street without looking both way so as to be safe. The parent's anger is stimulated by love.
Vanquishing anger is neither a useful nor desirable goal. We need to have a relationship with anger. It's not helpful to make it an enemy.
How we get angry matters. We need learn to express the feeling when it arises in a constructive way, to neither dump it on people who don't deserve it nor beat people up with it even when they have triggered our wrath. And what makes us angry matters. We need to spiritually mature so that we are more loving and understanding of others and of life as a whole. In growing spirtitualy we become more tolerant and less reactive when we don't get what we want. The bigger person gets angry just like the little person. The difference is what makes them angry ...and how they express it!
So we made a beginning. We made a start at taking the veil off the dreaded demon we call "anger". Talking about it is the first step in becoming it's master. The work lies before us. Our agenda is not to not get angry, but rather to get angry well!
Shabbat Shalom
Thursday, March 21, 2013
Lessons of a Boy Soldier
I will tell you a story. It happened just a few weeks ago. One of my daughter's friends is a new chayal, soldier, serving in the elite paratroopers unit of the Israeli army. One day he and a few of his buddies walked into the kitchen on the base and noticed a woman sitting by a table with her 8 year old son. Surprised, they asked her what she was doing in the kitchen. Clearly neither she nor her son belonged in that space. She pointed to her son and told them, "My son has not long to live. His only request was that he get to be a chayal in the tzanchanim. paratroopers before he dies. We are here to fulfill his dream".
There is much to reflect on in that story. The idea of The Make a Wish Foundation is to do similar things for children dying in the United States. If chidren in America who tragically are dying are given a wish, they will wish to go to Disney World or sit on the sidelines with their favorite football team or spend a day with a celebrity. And why not, these are the typical dreams of the young. Here in Israel too, like in America, this boy wished to be with his heroes. Only difference is that the heroes of this Israeli boy are not the glamorous and the accomplished, the idols of the sports world and the media. No, his heroes are boys, perhaps just 10 years older than him, most who just graduated high school, who serve in the Israeli army and protect his country from harm.
I suspect the troops who encountered that dying boy will never feel the same way again about their military service. If ever they saw their service as routine and their work as common, no more. More than the gift the unit gave the dying boy did the boy give these soldiers. Through him they realized just what a privelege it is to serve as a soldier in the army of Israel.
We are approaching the holiday of Pesach. If your home is in any way like mine its a 'balagan' at this time. Cleaning, cooking, shopping, the home is full of frenzy. It's good to pause, if just for a moment and take perspective. What's it all about? Why Pesach? Yes, I know we were slaves in Egypt and we were made free. But that's a long time ago. So much has happened since, much of it pretty horrific.
My mother is 86 and alone for Pesach. She will not have a seder. It's not that no one offered to invite her or even make a seder for her in her home. But she says its too difficult to sit through a seder at her age. And besides, in her words, "I had enough seders in my life". If that's true for my mother at 86 how much more true is it for the Jewish People. How many seders do we have to sit through? We get it! We know the story. We know; we appreciate; isn't it enough already?
I think the story we told above provides us with a much needed perspective. Yes, we know the story. Yes, we know we were liberated from a slavery that seemed interminable. But knowing something, knowing a truth, does not in and of itself lead us to appreciate it. The soldiers in the Israeli army, in the story above, knew they were serving their country. They needed no one to remind them. And they knew their work was important. But it took the presence of this terminally ill child to bring them to a full appreciation of the unique privelege that is theirs, after some 2000 years, to serve in an army defending the Jewish State.
Each year as we come to Pesach and relive the story of the Exodus in word and symbol we re-enter the national experience and bring it to life. Our freedom, the gift of our ability to become who we need to become and to realize our potential as a a nation and as persons is no longer just a fact for which we express token gratitude. In celebrating each year the time of our liberation we affirm that freedom is not an expectation. It is not something to be taken for granted. No, freedom our freedom was a gift from G-d that might well not have been at all. We are priveleged to be free. And no matter how long ago it was, nor what has transpired in between, we are fortunate and priveleged to be free men and women able to serve G-d and live our lives with choice and opportunity.
I am sure that the paratroopers of whom we wrote earlier did not grumble the next morning after meeting the boy and his mother in the kitchen when they were woken at 6:00am for morning duty. Nor did they complain about the 20 kilometer hike they took the day after. At least for a few days these soldiers were so full of gratitude for the gift of being able to serve that they got past the petty complaints that might otherwise weigh them down. That is what Pesach is about for us. In re-entering the story we already know so well we
put our lives in perspective. All of a sudden all the disappointments and frustrations that bring us down seem less significant. We no longer dwell on what might have been in our lives that wasn't or what should not have been that was. Instead we take stock of the miracle of our freedom. We experience full appreciation for the basic rights that we have that were in no way certain. We feel the full measure of gratitude for G-d's gift , without which we would have remained slaves, never becoming a nation, compromised forever!
So Pesach is nearly here. We will soon complete all the preparations. Our homes will be made kosher for the chag. The rituals, and there are many, will be observed. We will wish each other a "chag smayach" a "joyous holiday". But let's not forget the opportunity before us. Let's use the holiday as intended, to re-experience our slavery and our liberation. If we can feel the fullness of our suffering in the long years of our enslavement in Egypt and sense the thrill of the liberation, if we can truly taste the bitter and the sweet and take nothing for granted, then this Yom Tov we can make joyous much more than the week of Pesach. We can actually put into perspective all the days of our lives with their attendant encumbrances. Through a proper experience of Pesach we can know happiness!
We live a miracle each day. We were slaves! We are free! How can we not be happy!
Shabbat Shalom
Chag Smayach
There is much to reflect on in that story. The idea of The Make a Wish Foundation is to do similar things for children dying in the United States. If chidren in America who tragically are dying are given a wish, they will wish to go to Disney World or sit on the sidelines with their favorite football team or spend a day with a celebrity. And why not, these are the typical dreams of the young. Here in Israel too, like in America, this boy wished to be with his heroes. Only difference is that the heroes of this Israeli boy are not the glamorous and the accomplished, the idols of the sports world and the media. No, his heroes are boys, perhaps just 10 years older than him, most who just graduated high school, who serve in the Israeli army and protect his country from harm.
I suspect the troops who encountered that dying boy will never feel the same way again about their military service. If ever they saw their service as routine and their work as common, no more. More than the gift the unit gave the dying boy did the boy give these soldiers. Through him they realized just what a privelege it is to serve as a soldier in the army of Israel.
We are approaching the holiday of Pesach. If your home is in any way like mine its a 'balagan' at this time. Cleaning, cooking, shopping, the home is full of frenzy. It's good to pause, if just for a moment and take perspective. What's it all about? Why Pesach? Yes, I know we were slaves in Egypt and we were made free. But that's a long time ago. So much has happened since, much of it pretty horrific.
My mother is 86 and alone for Pesach. She will not have a seder. It's not that no one offered to invite her or even make a seder for her in her home. But she says its too difficult to sit through a seder at her age. And besides, in her words, "I had enough seders in my life". If that's true for my mother at 86 how much more true is it for the Jewish People. How many seders do we have to sit through? We get it! We know the story. We know; we appreciate; isn't it enough already?
I think the story we told above provides us with a much needed perspective. Yes, we know the story. Yes, we know we were liberated from a slavery that seemed interminable. But knowing something, knowing a truth, does not in and of itself lead us to appreciate it. The soldiers in the Israeli army, in the story above, knew they were serving their country. They needed no one to remind them. And they knew their work was important. But it took the presence of this terminally ill child to bring them to a full appreciation of the unique privelege that is theirs, after some 2000 years, to serve in an army defending the Jewish State.
Each year as we come to Pesach and relive the story of the Exodus in word and symbol we re-enter the national experience and bring it to life. Our freedom, the gift of our ability to become who we need to become and to realize our potential as a a nation and as persons is no longer just a fact for which we express token gratitude. In celebrating each year the time of our liberation we affirm that freedom is not an expectation. It is not something to be taken for granted. No, freedom our freedom was a gift from G-d that might well not have been at all. We are priveleged to be free. And no matter how long ago it was, nor what has transpired in between, we are fortunate and priveleged to be free men and women able to serve G-d and live our lives with choice and opportunity.
I am sure that the paratroopers of whom we wrote earlier did not grumble the next morning after meeting the boy and his mother in the kitchen when they were woken at 6:00am for morning duty. Nor did they complain about the 20 kilometer hike they took the day after. At least for a few days these soldiers were so full of gratitude for the gift of being able to serve that they got past the petty complaints that might otherwise weigh them down. That is what Pesach is about for us. In re-entering the story we already know so well we
put our lives in perspective. All of a sudden all the disappointments and frustrations that bring us down seem less significant. We no longer dwell on what might have been in our lives that wasn't or what should not have been that was. Instead we take stock of the miracle of our freedom. We experience full appreciation for the basic rights that we have that were in no way certain. We feel the full measure of gratitude for G-d's gift , without which we would have remained slaves, never becoming a nation, compromised forever!
So Pesach is nearly here. We will soon complete all the preparations. Our homes will be made kosher for the chag. The rituals, and there are many, will be observed. We will wish each other a "chag smayach" a "joyous holiday". But let's not forget the opportunity before us. Let's use the holiday as intended, to re-experience our slavery and our liberation. If we can feel the fullness of our suffering in the long years of our enslavement in Egypt and sense the thrill of the liberation, if we can truly taste the bitter and the sweet and take nothing for granted, then this Yom Tov we can make joyous much more than the week of Pesach. We can actually put into perspective all the days of our lives with their attendant encumbrances. Through a proper experience of Pesach we can know happiness!
We live a miracle each day. We were slaves! We are free! How can we not be happy!
Shabbat Shalom
Chag Smayach
Thursday, March 14, 2013
Of Guilt and Grace
In many ways it is much easier to be a Christian than to be a Jew. It's not only the practical side of the matter, that our faith places so many more expectations upon us to observe a discipline and a lifestyle. Even in theology Judaism seems a much harder faith to live with. For Christians there is a seminal concept virtually absent in Judaism. They believe in Grace. What is Grace? Well as best as I can understand it, Grace is the idea that even though we may be flawed in some fundemental ways and mired in sin G-d gives us a pass...a free ticket as it were. Through Divine Grace, they believe, in the eyes of G-d we are o'kay with our defeciencies and failings. For us as Jews there are no free passes. When we do wrong we are held accountable. We are always said to choose and held liable for our choices.
In truth so much of the allure Christianity holds for Jews who sadly and tragically leave our faith and embrace theirs is the relief they seek from the guilt that haunts them. I have seen over and over the young Jewish person, who is indeed soulful yet feels him/herself lacking, be enticed by Christianity for its invitation to Grace and liberation from guilt. The appeal of Christianity is not to our brothers and sisters who have no interest in G-d. On the contrary, those attracted are very much seeking a spiritual connection. Their problem with Judaism is that they feel it never lets them feel good enough about themselves. With all the expectations of Jewish life and tradition they feel doomed to Divine rejection. Recently I had a conversation with someone I regularly study with. He is a businessman. He is successful. He could choose to pursue any lifestyle he desired. Yet he keeps Shabbat. He davens each day. He commits to a set time for learning daily. He gives considerable tzedaka. In short, despite the opportunity to sin, he is faithful to the a Torah way of life. Yet my friend expresses concern over whether he is "good enough" and entitled to the "world-to-come". He is not sure if G-d will find him worthy. How can that lacking, so evident in the hearts of so many of us, not cause us a sense of sadness and angst even when we adhere to our faith and tradition?
When I open the book of Vayikra and read the seemingly endless portions that speak of sin and atonement I am reminded of the heaviness of our faith. Sin and sacrifice, atonement and punsihment, Judaism never seems to let up with admonishment. Do we ever get a break?
Is it any wonder that "Jewish guilt" is entrenched in our psyche?
So having painted the dark side of this canvas of our faith what is the bright side? How do we understand the lack of Grace in our tradition? Do we need to endlessly beat ourselves up?
On reflection I think there is indeed another side to the story. Do you remember many years ago there was a self-help, psychology book written titled "I'm Okay, You're Okay". It was very popular in its day. The author pointed out that all our patterns of communication reflect a sense of where we see ourselves vis a vis the other. Sometimes we speak to others out of a perspective that we are okay and they are not. Parents often speak that way to their children, but even adults to adults often take that superior position.
Then at time we communicate from the vantage point that "I am not okay but you are okay". Children often see themselves in that position relative to their parents. Yet even as adults we can feel ourselves as children and not okay relative to others who we give power to. In marriages women often feel that imbalance relative to their husbands. There are also times when we are in relationship with another where we feel neither of us is okay. All the above scenarios in the view of the author are mentally unhealthy. To be healthy and happy we need to live out of a framework where "I am okay and you are okay".
But what if we are not okay? What if we have sinned and are compromised as persons? In this model we need to be free of that which makes us not okay. Sin is a stain that makes us not okay and no being ok compromises our wellbeing.
Indeed for a Christian sin is not okay. If one sins, for Catholics, one goes to a private confession. Sin cannot be made public. Moreover one cannot take communion until one has confessed and been absolved of sin. One is essentially rendered unacceptable through sin, cast out from the community of faith. If one's sins are pervasive one needs Grace. Without Grace the person is doomed and forever without a place in the community of the G-dly. Indeed with that perspective, where sin cannot be mentioned and to sin is to be unacceptable of course Grace is vital and necessary. We need to be Okay and can never be Okay with the stain of sin.
Our faith is oh so different. True the Torah goes into great detail describing atonement and the consequences of sin. But sin for us is no shame. We bring sin offerings as a public event. The 'chahat', animal offerring for sin is brought to the Temple and publically sacrificed. Thousands bring the offering each day. It is not an exception to the norm. It is the norm. The Torah normalizes it in procedure and process. Everyone sins! Confession? sure we confess. But it's not private. On Yom Kippur we all confess our sins, and we do it in unison and in voice. And even as those bearing sin we are not cast out. We need no Grace to belong to the community of faith.
We enter the Temple as sinners. We are never cast out!
If there is a model that fits the Jewish concept of being okay it is "I am not Okay, You're not Okay, but that's Okay!"
Judaism does not whitewash sin or give us a free pass. It does need to pretend we have not sinned with a cheap grace.
Judaism indeed holds us accountable. We are liable for our misdeeds. But even with them we are acceptable. Not because we have no sin, but because sin is part of our being human. Our work is to strive to get better. But we will always have sin. Even the best of us!
Judiasm teaches us that while I need strive to excellence I am ok being flawed. In fact if I was not flawed there would be no purpose to my place in the world. In my flawedness all the good I do becomes that much more impressive and meaningful. Only because I am flawed does my life have meaning for both others and self.
G-d does not need to pretend we are better than we are to love us. G-d loves us and welcomes us into an intimacy with Him with our limitations. We do not need to be perfect to be acceptable to Him.
Our real challenge is to imitate G-d's ways and love and accept ourselves as we are.
Shabbat Shalom
In truth so much of the allure Christianity holds for Jews who sadly and tragically leave our faith and embrace theirs is the relief they seek from the guilt that haunts them. I have seen over and over the young Jewish person, who is indeed soulful yet feels him/herself lacking, be enticed by Christianity for its invitation to Grace and liberation from guilt. The appeal of Christianity is not to our brothers and sisters who have no interest in G-d. On the contrary, those attracted are very much seeking a spiritual connection. Their problem with Judaism is that they feel it never lets them feel good enough about themselves. With all the expectations of Jewish life and tradition they feel doomed to Divine rejection. Recently I had a conversation with someone I regularly study with. He is a businessman. He is successful. He could choose to pursue any lifestyle he desired. Yet he keeps Shabbat. He davens each day. He commits to a set time for learning daily. He gives considerable tzedaka. In short, despite the opportunity to sin, he is faithful to the a Torah way of life. Yet my friend expresses concern over whether he is "good enough" and entitled to the "world-to-come". He is not sure if G-d will find him worthy. How can that lacking, so evident in the hearts of so many of us, not cause us a sense of sadness and angst even when we adhere to our faith and tradition?
When I open the book of Vayikra and read the seemingly endless portions that speak of sin and atonement I am reminded of the heaviness of our faith. Sin and sacrifice, atonement and punsihment, Judaism never seems to let up with admonishment. Do we ever get a break?
Is it any wonder that "Jewish guilt" is entrenched in our psyche?
So having painted the dark side of this canvas of our faith what is the bright side? How do we understand the lack of Grace in our tradition? Do we need to endlessly beat ourselves up?
On reflection I think there is indeed another side to the story. Do you remember many years ago there was a self-help, psychology book written titled "I'm Okay, You're Okay". It was very popular in its day. The author pointed out that all our patterns of communication reflect a sense of where we see ourselves vis a vis the other. Sometimes we speak to others out of a perspective that we are okay and they are not. Parents often speak that way to their children, but even adults to adults often take that superior position.
Then at time we communicate from the vantage point that "I am not okay but you are okay". Children often see themselves in that position relative to their parents. Yet even as adults we can feel ourselves as children and not okay relative to others who we give power to. In marriages women often feel that imbalance relative to their husbands. There are also times when we are in relationship with another where we feel neither of us is okay. All the above scenarios in the view of the author are mentally unhealthy. To be healthy and happy we need to live out of a framework where "I am okay and you are okay".
But what if we are not okay? What if we have sinned and are compromised as persons? In this model we need to be free of that which makes us not okay. Sin is a stain that makes us not okay and no being ok compromises our wellbeing.
Indeed for a Christian sin is not okay. If one sins, for Catholics, one goes to a private confession. Sin cannot be made public. Moreover one cannot take communion until one has confessed and been absolved of sin. One is essentially rendered unacceptable through sin, cast out from the community of faith. If one's sins are pervasive one needs Grace. Without Grace the person is doomed and forever without a place in the community of the G-dly. Indeed with that perspective, where sin cannot be mentioned and to sin is to be unacceptable of course Grace is vital and necessary. We need to be Okay and can never be Okay with the stain of sin.
Our faith is oh so different. True the Torah goes into great detail describing atonement and the consequences of sin. But sin for us is no shame. We bring sin offerings as a public event. The 'chahat', animal offerring for sin is brought to the Temple and publically sacrificed. Thousands bring the offering each day. It is not an exception to the norm. It is the norm. The Torah normalizes it in procedure and process. Everyone sins! Confession? sure we confess. But it's not private. On Yom Kippur we all confess our sins, and we do it in unison and in voice. And even as those bearing sin we are not cast out. We need no Grace to belong to the community of faith.
We enter the Temple as sinners. We are never cast out!
If there is a model that fits the Jewish concept of being okay it is "I am not Okay, You're not Okay, but that's Okay!"
Judaism does not whitewash sin or give us a free pass. It does need to pretend we have not sinned with a cheap grace.
Judaism indeed holds us accountable. We are liable for our misdeeds. But even with them we are acceptable. Not because we have no sin, but because sin is part of our being human. Our work is to strive to get better. But we will always have sin. Even the best of us!
Judiasm teaches us that while I need strive to excellence I am ok being flawed. In fact if I was not flawed there would be no purpose to my place in the world. In my flawedness all the good I do becomes that much more impressive and meaningful. Only because I am flawed does my life have meaning for both others and self.
G-d does not need to pretend we are better than we are to love us. G-d loves us and welcomes us into an intimacy with Him with our limitations. We do not need to be perfect to be acceptable to Him.
Our real challenge is to imitate G-d's ways and love and accept ourselves as we are.
Shabbat Shalom
Thursday, March 7, 2013
Taking Notice
Do you know the color of the eyes of the person you work with every day? Can you tell me what color dress your wife wore yesterday or what shoes your husband wore? Truth is most of us will have no idea. To many of things things that stare us in the face, literally, we pay no mind.
And, we will argue, perhaps correctly, that we do right. We point out, the things we take no notice of are of little consequence. But the question is, if we do not take notice how do we know that which we miss is of little consequence?
This Shabbat we conclude the four special Sabbaths that surround Purim and precede Pesach with Parshat Ha'chodesh. The reading of the Torah speaks of the first mitzvah given to the People Of Israel in anticipation of the Exodus, that of sanctifying the month on the basis of the sighting of the new moon. What is the meaning of this mitzvah in the life of the nation? Why is it given priority, so much so as to precede the liberation from Egypt and the giving of the Torah? And what significance does this mitzvah have to us that we read it yearly on a special Sabbath, particularly in our times where we have no 'beit din' to sanctify the months on the basis of the new moon?
If we are to see the Torah as a mirror revealing to us what we need to know inorder to become whole as persons and as a people I think the truth we are being shown is that all becoming begins with taking notice! What is the mitzvah of the sanctifying of the month if not a call to take notice. We cannot have holidays, we cannot perform the rituals associated with the holidays, we can not have a national/religious life without taking notice, notice of the small sliver of the moon as it emerges from obscurity into rebirth each month. All Jewish living starts with taking notice of the change in the sky. Its not a big change, and its one we might otherwise not recognize, anymore than we notice the color of our friend's eyes. Yet it is important that we be aware, that we live life with eyes wide open, that we see what needs to be seen, so that we can become who we need to become. The mitzvah which is prerequisite for all others and upon which all national growth and becoming depends is the mitzvah to take notice. If we as a people are blind to the messages our times and circumstances reveal we will forever remain compromised and stuck in our mediocrity.
If taking notice is vital to us as a people, how much more so is it essential for us as persons. Rav Wolbe in his sefer Aleh Shor, challenges us to learn at least three lessons each day from experience, from encounters we have in the world and with people. He emphasizes that living is meant to teach us. We receive regular invitations to insight, if only we will take notice.
How many people go through life singing loud never realizing they are off-key. And if we think of the above metaphorically, how many live lives off key, hurting others with there words and deeds seemingly oblivious. They never take notice of the impact they make on others. When confronted, sometimes after many years of hurtful behaviors, they will say "No one ever told me." In fact they were told many times, if not explicitly then by the reactions of others. It's not that they were not 'told'. It's simply that they refused to take notice of all the signs before their eyes!
To be alive is to use the world and our brothers and sister as our teachers. They reveal to us truths about ourselves we cannot get anywhere else. But usually the lessons will not be given to us directly. We need to be observant and watch the impact we make as we navigate life.
Moreover taking notice of others and how they react to life with its challenges and opportunities will teach us much about our own possibilities both for the good and bad. Not only does the Torah mirror each of us as individuals. Each person we encounter is a mirror as well. True we are not all the same. But we are all made of the same ingredients. And if someone else behaves in a way unlike us, either for the good or the bad, it begs to be noticed. In noticing we can consider the differences between us, explore the reasons, learn and grow. Turning a blind eye to difference is almost as bad as rejecting those who are different. In each case we shun the message difference has to teach us. We need to take notice of how others are not the same as us and learn from them so as to improve our selves.
The Torah teaches us all this when it prioritizes the mitzvah of sanctifying the new month on the basis of the sighting of the first glimpse of the new moon. The imperative is clear. Everything begins with taking notice.
Is it any wonder then that Pesach, our first holiday, and celebration of our nation's birth, in it's major observance, challenges us to take notice even of the crumb of chametz. All change, all growth, all becoming begins with taking notice. Our first spiritual call is to open our eyes!
Shabbat Shalom
And, we will argue, perhaps correctly, that we do right. We point out, the things we take no notice of are of little consequence. But the question is, if we do not take notice how do we know that which we miss is of little consequence?
This Shabbat we conclude the four special Sabbaths that surround Purim and precede Pesach with Parshat Ha'chodesh. The reading of the Torah speaks of the first mitzvah given to the People Of Israel in anticipation of the Exodus, that of sanctifying the month on the basis of the sighting of the new moon. What is the meaning of this mitzvah in the life of the nation? Why is it given priority, so much so as to precede the liberation from Egypt and the giving of the Torah? And what significance does this mitzvah have to us that we read it yearly on a special Sabbath, particularly in our times where we have no 'beit din' to sanctify the months on the basis of the new moon?
If we are to see the Torah as a mirror revealing to us what we need to know inorder to become whole as persons and as a people I think the truth we are being shown is that all becoming begins with taking notice! What is the mitzvah of the sanctifying of the month if not a call to take notice. We cannot have holidays, we cannot perform the rituals associated with the holidays, we can not have a national/religious life without taking notice, notice of the small sliver of the moon as it emerges from obscurity into rebirth each month. All Jewish living starts with taking notice of the change in the sky. Its not a big change, and its one we might otherwise not recognize, anymore than we notice the color of our friend's eyes. Yet it is important that we be aware, that we live life with eyes wide open, that we see what needs to be seen, so that we can become who we need to become. The mitzvah which is prerequisite for all others and upon which all national growth and becoming depends is the mitzvah to take notice. If we as a people are blind to the messages our times and circumstances reveal we will forever remain compromised and stuck in our mediocrity.
If taking notice is vital to us as a people, how much more so is it essential for us as persons. Rav Wolbe in his sefer Aleh Shor, challenges us to learn at least three lessons each day from experience, from encounters we have in the world and with people. He emphasizes that living is meant to teach us. We receive regular invitations to insight, if only we will take notice.
How many people go through life singing loud never realizing they are off-key. And if we think of the above metaphorically, how many live lives off key, hurting others with there words and deeds seemingly oblivious. They never take notice of the impact they make on others. When confronted, sometimes after many years of hurtful behaviors, they will say "No one ever told me." In fact they were told many times, if not explicitly then by the reactions of others. It's not that they were not 'told'. It's simply that they refused to take notice of all the signs before their eyes!
To be alive is to use the world and our brothers and sister as our teachers. They reveal to us truths about ourselves we cannot get anywhere else. But usually the lessons will not be given to us directly. We need to be observant and watch the impact we make as we navigate life.
Moreover taking notice of others and how they react to life with its challenges and opportunities will teach us much about our own possibilities both for the good and bad. Not only does the Torah mirror each of us as individuals. Each person we encounter is a mirror as well. True we are not all the same. But we are all made of the same ingredients. And if someone else behaves in a way unlike us, either for the good or the bad, it begs to be noticed. In noticing we can consider the differences between us, explore the reasons, learn and grow. Turning a blind eye to difference is almost as bad as rejecting those who are different. In each case we shun the message difference has to teach us. We need to take notice of how others are not the same as us and learn from them so as to improve our selves.
The Torah teaches us all this when it prioritizes the mitzvah of sanctifying the new month on the basis of the sighting of the first glimpse of the new moon. The imperative is clear. Everything begins with taking notice.
Is it any wonder then that Pesach, our first holiday, and celebration of our nation's birth, in it's major observance, challenges us to take notice even of the crumb of chametz. All change, all growth, all becoming begins with taking notice. Our first spiritual call is to open our eyes!
Shabbat Shalom
Thursday, February 21, 2013
In Tribute to a Kohen
I must admit, sometimes the priveleges given to the kohen annoy me. As you are aware those who trace their lineage to Aharon the priest are given special status in the community of Israel. In ancient times they served as conduits between the people and G-d in the Bait Hamikdash, the Holy Temple. They lived a life committed to public service. Their role entitled them to distinction and respect. But that was near 2000 years ago. Since that time the Kohen's life is indistiguishable from every other Jew. He works a regular job and invests himself in the secular. Yet according to our tradition he still commands a unique station in the life of the community. He has priority when it comes to receiving an aliya to the Torah. He is first to lead the grace after meal. He claims the five shekel for the redemption of the first born. And he ascends to the front of the synagogue daily in Israel and on holidays in the galut to bestow the priestly blessings on the congregation.
I have often wondered why? Why should the kohen in our day be given special status.
Today the Kohen gets a privelege undeserved. He makes no sacrifice yet he is honored.
He may not be a mensch yet he has priority over a community of scholars. Of himself he may be a nobody yet by dint of 'ýichus' he becomes a star. We are a religion which emphasizes accomplishment not pedigree. How then does the Kohen in this context become so important?
I titled this blog, "In Tribute to a Kohen". And there is a specific Kohen I have in mind, Moshe Cohen, of blessed memory. Most of us probably know a Moshe Cohen. But the Moshe Cohen I have in mind few knew. He lived in Jerusalem for many years. He was a professor at the Technion. He was also one of the most humble men I have ever met. So humble that I hardly really knew him myself. He came to the 6:00am minyan every day where I have davened the past two years. He was the only Kohen. He blessed us each morning. And yes he received the opening aliya at the Torah reading as was his due on Monday and Thursdays. Yesterday, after a long battle with cancer, he passed away.
He died like he lived, quietly and with modesty. As is the traditon in Jerusalem he was buried the day of his death. Few even knew he had died. Few were at his nighttime burial.
Moshe was not a talkative man. He never shared about himself. Few knew he was a professor of note. He came to shule in the quiet and left the same. I do not know his life story. I know almost nothing about Moshe except what I witnessed. I saw each day in him a quiet dignity. Moshe made effort to reach out to an old compromised and friendless man in shule each morning, someone none of us could relate to. Moshe never mixed into shule politics or got caught up in controversy, and their was plenty of opportunity.
Most of all Moshe taught me something about the Kohen. He helped me understand why the kohen even in our days may well have a right to special status. For you see Moshe, our Kohen, battled cancer for several years. Though he never talked about it, it was clear that he suffered. Nonetheless even as his life was full of torment he ascended the platform in front of the synagogue each morning and in a strong and resonant voice blessed us. He did not let his own curse cause resentment. No, on the contrary, his own curse seemed only to make him more determined to bless others.
As the months wore on Moshe would be absent from minyan from time to time to take treatments. Gradually his once resonant voice became weaker. By the end he could barely be heard. He had lost his hair. He walked haltingly. Yet he would not surrender the opportunity to bless us. By the end it was almost sureal to see this terminally ill man, living on death's door, rise above his own hellish existence to bless us with the gifts included in the priestly blessings. Moshe may have been small of stature and weak of body, but he was a giant, a lion of a man.
From Moshe Cohen I came to respect all the kohanim of our post Temple days. It's true the kohen no longer devotes his life to the holy as was once the case and hopefully will soon be again. But the kohen, if he is to do his job well, even in our days makes a heroic effort. He must get past all the unfairness he is feeling in his own life and daily bestow blessings on us. The kohen must find a way to rise above the resentments and disappointments he lives with and be the vehicle through which G-d can show favor to us. The Kohen must love us even when he is hurting. I am not sure that there is any life work more difficult.
Moshe Cohen is gone. His voice is stilled. It is appropriate that he died on the week we read the parsha of Tzav, a parsha that speaks to us of the unique role of the kohen in the community of Israel. While he did not get to bring the sacrifices nor to wear the priestly garments, Moshe Cohen reflected the best of what being a kohen is all about.
He loved us even when it was hard to love another. He was a true child of Aharon.
We who davened with him will miss him. Thank G-d there remain kohanim like Moshe in our world who will bless us with a full heart even when they experience life as cursed.
Indeed they deserve our honor and respect.
Shabbat Shalom
Purim Samayach
I have often wondered why? Why should the kohen in our day be given special status.
Today the Kohen gets a privelege undeserved. He makes no sacrifice yet he is honored.
He may not be a mensch yet he has priority over a community of scholars. Of himself he may be a nobody yet by dint of 'ýichus' he becomes a star. We are a religion which emphasizes accomplishment not pedigree. How then does the Kohen in this context become so important?
I titled this blog, "In Tribute to a Kohen". And there is a specific Kohen I have in mind, Moshe Cohen, of blessed memory. Most of us probably know a Moshe Cohen. But the Moshe Cohen I have in mind few knew. He lived in Jerusalem for many years. He was a professor at the Technion. He was also one of the most humble men I have ever met. So humble that I hardly really knew him myself. He came to the 6:00am minyan every day where I have davened the past two years. He was the only Kohen. He blessed us each morning. And yes he received the opening aliya at the Torah reading as was his due on Monday and Thursdays. Yesterday, after a long battle with cancer, he passed away.
He died like he lived, quietly and with modesty. As is the traditon in Jerusalem he was buried the day of his death. Few even knew he had died. Few were at his nighttime burial.
Moshe was not a talkative man. He never shared about himself. Few knew he was a professor of note. He came to shule in the quiet and left the same. I do not know his life story. I know almost nothing about Moshe except what I witnessed. I saw each day in him a quiet dignity. Moshe made effort to reach out to an old compromised and friendless man in shule each morning, someone none of us could relate to. Moshe never mixed into shule politics or got caught up in controversy, and their was plenty of opportunity.
Most of all Moshe taught me something about the Kohen. He helped me understand why the kohen even in our days may well have a right to special status. For you see Moshe, our Kohen, battled cancer for several years. Though he never talked about it, it was clear that he suffered. Nonetheless even as his life was full of torment he ascended the platform in front of the synagogue each morning and in a strong and resonant voice blessed us. He did not let his own curse cause resentment. No, on the contrary, his own curse seemed only to make him more determined to bless others.
As the months wore on Moshe would be absent from minyan from time to time to take treatments. Gradually his once resonant voice became weaker. By the end he could barely be heard. He had lost his hair. He walked haltingly. Yet he would not surrender the opportunity to bless us. By the end it was almost sureal to see this terminally ill man, living on death's door, rise above his own hellish existence to bless us with the gifts included in the priestly blessings. Moshe may have been small of stature and weak of body, but he was a giant, a lion of a man.
From Moshe Cohen I came to respect all the kohanim of our post Temple days. It's true the kohen no longer devotes his life to the holy as was once the case and hopefully will soon be again. But the kohen, if he is to do his job well, even in our days makes a heroic effort. He must get past all the unfairness he is feeling in his own life and daily bestow blessings on us. The kohen must find a way to rise above the resentments and disappointments he lives with and be the vehicle through which G-d can show favor to us. The Kohen must love us even when he is hurting. I am not sure that there is any life work more difficult.
Moshe Cohen is gone. His voice is stilled. It is appropriate that he died on the week we read the parsha of Tzav, a parsha that speaks to us of the unique role of the kohen in the community of Israel. While he did not get to bring the sacrifices nor to wear the priestly garments, Moshe Cohen reflected the best of what being a kohen is all about.
He loved us even when it was hard to love another. He was a true child of Aharon.
We who davened with him will miss him. Thank G-d there remain kohanim like Moshe in our world who will bless us with a full heart even when they experience life as cursed.
Indeed they deserve our honor and respect.
Shabbat Shalom
Purim Samayach
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