Gratitude – Even Without the Drama

 Parshat Bo describes the tenth and final plague with which Hashem struck the Egyptians: the death of the firstborn. We have a mitzvah to remember Yetziat Mitzrayim on a daily basis, and we fulfill this obligation by reciting the third paragraph of Shema. Of all ten plagues, only the last plague is commemorated through a specific and unique mitzvah. The Sefer Hachinuch (Mitzvah 392 and Mitzvah 22) suggests that Pidyon Haben serves as a reminder of Makkat Bechorot and it is a way of expressing gratitude to Hashem for saving the Jewish firstborns. At a Pidyon Haben, the father gives the Kohen five silver coins and the Kohen “gives back” the baby. One especially poignant aspect of this ceremony is the language utilized by the Kohen at the beginning of the ceremony: In Aramaic it is: “Ma Ba’it Tfei”, ‘which do you prefer more?” In this case the question is very specific: does the father prefer to keep his five silver coins or does he prefer to “get back” his son? I think the question of “Mah Ba’it Tfei” is one that can be directed to us all. It needs to reverberate and resound in all of our ears, regardless of whether or not we have performed a Pidyon Haben. In life we might wish we could “have it all” but in truth such a goal is elusive. Our time, effort, and attention are finite resources. We are often left with a question: what are our priorities? What will we spend more time on, and where will we spend less of our attention? When it comes to the attention and effort necessary to raise children “Mah Ba’it T’fei?” What are our greatest hopes and dreams for our children, both our biological offspring and our Jewish future? Once we identify those goals we must ask ourselves what we are doing to facilitate those aspirations. Are we putting in the necessary effort to achieve those goals? The question, though arises: If Pidyon Haben commemorates Makkat Bechorot, then why is the mitzvah limited in scope? In Egypt all firstborn sons were affected by the plague. Yet the mitzvah of Pidyon Haben only applies to the firstborn son of the mother and only when that firstborn son is born naturally. If the wife had a child but this is the husband’s first born son- that baby is not subject to a Pidyon Haben. And if a couple’s first child, even a boy, is born via Cesarean section, that child is also not subject to Pidyon Haben. Why? The Avnei Shoham suggests that Pidyon Haben is meant to teach the new parents (and by extension all of us) an important lesson about gratitude. If a couple, first marriage, has their first child and everything goes smoothly, then of course we say “Mazal Tov”, but there is a risk that the parents feel that nature has merely taken its course. Things happened as they were supposed to. Sometimes this can lead to a lack of appreciation and gratitude. The Torah gives us the mitzvah of Pidyon Haben as a reminder to never take blessings for granted. That’s why the mitzvah is only applicable in the most typical and the most natural scenarios. If the baby can’t be born naturally but only through a C-section, the parents will obviously feel gratitude that things worked out. Only when the child is born naturally does Pidyon Haben remind us to be equally grateful, even without the drama. If a baby is born after the mother experienced a miscarriage or is born to a second marriage after the wife had a child in her first marriage, then the imperative for gratitude is obvious (that this child was born healthy after a miscarriage or that this child was born into a loving marriage after a previous divorce). When a firstborn son is born under ideal conditions, the mitzvah of Pidyon Haben reminds us to be equally grateful. The Talmud (Brachot 54) famously teaches:  חַיָּיב אָדָם לְבָרֵךְ עַל הָרָעָה כְּשֵׁם שֶׁמְּבָרֵךְ עַל הַטּוֹבָה “One is obligated to recite a blessing for the bad that befalls him just as he recites a blessing for the good that befalls him.” We say “Baruch Hashem” when we experience a near miss. We must also say “Baruch Hashem” when things go smoothly and we don't have to worry in the first place.

Patience and Imagination: Ingredients for Redemption

 Why didn’t the Jews listen to and rejoice in the news of redemption that Moshe was spreading? Didn’t they want to leave Egypt, or at the very least be free from the slavery in which they currently found themselves? The Torah itself gives us the answer (Shemot 6:9):

Moses spoke thus to the children of Israel, but they did not hearken to Moses because of [their] shortness of breath and because of [their] hard labor.

Bnai Yisrael did not listen to Moshe due to two factors: the hard work, and “Kotzer Ruach.” A type of “shortness of breath” What exactly is Kotzer Ruach?

According to some commentators, Kotzer Ruach refers to a lack of perspective. As much as they may have wanted to, Bnai Yisrael were unable to see beyond their current reality. It is possible to be so entrenched in a situation that one cannot imagine anything different.

In Key West, there is a beautiful building designed over 100 years ago by William Freret of New York, the Supervising Architect of the United States Government at that time. This building has a number of unusual features. For one, the building has a tin roof. The architect felt that a tin roof would be most beneficial in capturing the huge amounts of snow and helping to quickly melt it into drinking water for the use of the building’s employees. The building was also equipped with eleven huge hearth fireplaces, capable of keeping the building warm through the fiercest of winters.

This impressive building with its shiny tin roof and fireplaces sits in Key West, Florida as testimony to the difficulty man has in adapting to new environments and situations.

Bnei Yisrael may have wanted freedom. But this desire was tainted by an inability to truly envision the reality of their freedom. Kotzer ruach occurs when the comfort of familiarity overpowers any goals for the future. We may want something, and yet be stymied by unwillingness or inability to imagine what that goal would actually look like when realized.

Rabbi Samson Raphael Hirsch, whose yahrzeit was Friday, explains that “kotzer ruach” refers to impatience. The Jews may have desired to be free, but could not wait for a process to unfold. They wanted immediate gratification. For Bnai Yisrael it was “now or never”- if freedom could not be achieved right now, then it might as well never occur. Impatience was an ongoing problem for Bnai Yisrael during the early stages of their development. For example, no matter how one understands the sin of the Golden Calf, the precipitating cause was the Jewish People’s impatience.

The American poet W.H. Auden wrote, “Perhaps there is only one cardinal sin: impatience. Because of impatience we were driven out of Paradise, because of impatience we cannot return.” Impatience breeds fear, stress and discouragement. Around this time of year many Americans make resolutions for the new secular year. Many of us may follow suit or just review those resolutions we may have made almost 4 months ago on Rosh Hashana. The greatest impediment to fulfilling resolutions is impatience. When results do not come as quickly as we would like, we give up. This is the attitude of kotzer ruach that Bnei Yisrael suffered in Egypt. And this is the kotzer ruach that we must be mindful of in our pursuit of success.

Along with hard work and help from Hashem, a desire is crucial for success. But that desire must not be tainted with Kotzer Ruach. When striving for our goals, we have to be able to envision what actual success will look like, while at the same time remaining patient. 

The Dignity of Difference

 The opening of Sefer Shemot raises one of the most unsettling questions in Jewish history: how did the Jewish people descend from honored guests to oppressed slaves? Chazal describe a slow and calculated beginning. Pharaoh did not start with whips. He began with opportunity. “Whoever produces a brick will receive a shekel.” Fair wages. Public projects. A chance to succeed. The Midrash notes that Jews worked themselves to exhaustion, driven by incentive, ambition and a desire to fit it. Only later, once their strength and spirit were weakened, did slavery fully take hold. But Shemot is not merely a historical telling of our exile. It is Sefer HaGeulah, the Book of Redemption. Sefer Shemot is a guidebook for how to navigate, and ultimately extricate ourselves from, exile.

In describing why something needs to be done with the Jews Pharaoh says, “lest they increase… and leave the land,” Sforno reads this not as a fear but as an objective: let us make them leave the land. Pharaoh wanted the Jews gone; not because they were failing to integrate, but because they were integrating too well. “Va’timaleh ha’aretz otam” “the land was filled with them.” Jews were no longer confined to Goshen. They were becoming prominent in Egyptian society, culture, and commerce. This visibility made the Egyptians uneasy. Paula Fredriksen, the renowned historian of early Christianity, makes an important observation: One of the earliest roots of antisemitism is not Jewish difference alone, but Jewish refusal to fully assimilate. Jews live among the nations, contribute to society, and yet insist on remaining distinct. That combination, participation without full acculturation, has always unsettled host societies.

Pharaoh sensed this tension. The Jews were present everywhere, but they were not Egyptians. When crisis would come, Pharaoh feared they would remain distinct. His solution was not immediate expulsion, but pressure. His plan was to make life difficult enough that the Jews would choose to leave on their own. But they didn’t. Why didn’t Bnei Yisrael simply return to Canaan? In Shemot the Torah describes Jewish growth using several verbs, including “va’yishretzu.” While usually translated as “they swarmed,” Sforno links it to sheratzim, creeping creatures. After Yaakov’s immediate family died, the Jews began to lose their inner dignity. Detached from their roots and their mission, they no longer saw themselves as carriers of a sacred identity. They began to see themselves like creeping insects i.e.  small, dependent, and insignificant. Once a people loses self-respect, enemies and opportunists will take advantage. This can explain why Bnei Yisrael didn’t just leave Egypt. They no longer believed they deserved better. It also explains why Moshe struggled to inspire them with his message of redemption. The Torah says they could not hear it due to “shortness of breath and hard labor”. It was not only physical exhaustion, but their inability to hear was due to spiritual constriction and decreased sense of self-worth. Slavery had already taken root within the Jewish People.This tension appears already in the very first verse of Shemot: “Ve’eleh shemot Bnei Yisrael haba’im Mitzrayma” “the children of Israel coming to Egypt. But the Jews had already arrived in Egypt. Why the present tense? Many explain that The Jews in Egypt never fully arrived; they never entirely belonged. Rabbi Nissan Alpert notes that the verse ends with “et Yaakov”; they came with their patriarch. As long as Yaakov’s presence, values, and vision accompanied them, they were protected from the spiritual descent associated with Egypt. The tragedy was not that Jews lived among Egyptians. It was that they began to forget why they were different. While antisemitism often erupts when Jews refuse to assimilate, Jewish survival depends on that refusal. Shemot reminds us of the balance that is essential to Jewish identity: engage the world, contribute to society, be present and also remain distinct and proud of our differences. Exile becomes dangerous not when we highlight what makes us different as Jews, but when we forget why we must remain so.

Actions May Be Loud, But Words Are Also Necessary

After all the trials and challenges that Yosef experiences over the course of the past three Torah portions, Parshat Vayechi ends off on a note that seems to add insult to all of the previous injuries. Yosef was able to arrange for the burial of his father Yaakov back in Israel, instead of Egypt. On their way home from the funeral Joseph’s brother once again conspire against him: “They said, ‘perhaps Joseph will nurse hatred against us and then he will surely repay us all of the evil that we did to him.” To protect against that possibility they inform Yosef of a message their father Yaakov wanted him to know: Forgive your brothers. Were the brothers justified in having such a fear, or were they just slipping into old patterns in their thinking about their younger brother? Yosef responds by crying. Yosef cries at being unfairly suspected of wrongdoing. The brothers are not the first to be suspicious of Yosef, even at this late juncture in the story. The Talmud in Masechet Kallah (3a) develops an approach that views Yaakov as also being suspicious of Yosef’s righteousness at the initial meeting after decades of separation.

In last week’s Parsha (46:29) we read how during the reunion between Yaakov and Yosef, “Vayipol Al Tzavarav, Vayevk al tzavarav od.” “He fell on his neck, and he cried on his neck.”

The verse is ambiguous. Most commentators understand that Yaakov fell on his son’s neck, and Yosef cried in response. However Masechet Kalah explains that Yosef does both: Yosef fell on his father’s neck and Yosef wanted to kiss Yaakov. However Yaakov refused to be kissed by Yosef, as he would not allow himself to be kissed by someone whom he suspected of impropriety. Upon seeing that his display of affection would be rebuffed, Yosef cries in frustration at the injustice of it all. Masechet Kallah utilizes this approach to explain why at the time of Yaakov’s death we are told:

“Yosef fell on his father’s face, he wept over him and he kissed him.”

As Masechet Kallah puts it, “Yosef said, “I have been in the presence of my father for all these years and I have not kissed him. Now when I am about to bury him, should I not kiss him?” After all Yosef did for them, why does his family still suspect him of wrongdoing? 

The answer is that although Yosef never once said the three words that would have cleared everything up, “I forgive you.” Sure, he says to his brothers, “It was all part of G-d’s plan, don’t worry about it.” But we all know that if a person responds to an apology by saying “don’t worry about it” – then we definitely have something to worry about. Yosef takes care of his father, but it appears that Yosef never sits down with his father to clear the air. If they had, then Yaakov would have realized the extent of Yosef’s righteousness and would not have suspected him of any wrongdoing. Instead of directly communicating, Yosef attempted to show his feelings through actions, but he had difficulty expressing himself. The man who had been dubbed Tzafnat Paneach, (revealer of secrets) could reveal other people’s secrets through dream interpretation. But he had a much more difficult time clearly revealing his feelings to others. There is an old adage that talk is cheap, and that what really counts is action. Nonetheless our words must be used to frame our actions. Actions can be misunderstood, words are much more difficult to misconstrue. Pirkei Avot says to say little and do much. Your words should be fewer than your actions- but you still need to say something! We must express ourselves, especially to our loved ones. Yosef may have done all the right things, but he failed to say the right things, to verbalize those feelings in a way that would have been clear and unambiguous. As we navigate the challenges of interpersonal relationships let us be ready and willing to not only do what needs to be done, but to say what needs to be said.

Quality Moments AND Quantity Time

Quality time? Or Quantity time? Which is more important for those of us seeking to build and nurture our relationships as spouses, friends, and parents? The reviews are mixed.

Over the past 50 years, parents have greatly increased the amount of time they spend with their children. On average fathers are with their (waking) children 3 times more today than they were in 1965 (from 2.6 to 7.2 hours per week). And even as more mothers work outside of the home, the number of hours they are with their children has also increased - from 10.5 to 13.7 hours per week. Quantity of time is definitely up.

And yet a meta-study released a few years back indicated that the sheer quantity of time parents spend with their kids between the ages of 3 and 11 has virtually no relationship to how children turn out, and a minimal effect on adolescents.

The study found one instance when more parental face time with their children was actually harmful: when parents were stressed, sleep-deprived, guilty and anxious. This would lead one to consider quality time as most important.

In the aftermath of the study that highlighted quality time, Frank Bruni wrote a column in the NY Times entitled, “The Myth of Quality Time”. In extolling the virtues of quantity time he makes a convincing case that “There’s simply no real substitute for physical presence.” And “we delude ourselves when we say that we can plan instances of extraordinary candor…, (or) engineer intimacy in an appointed hour.” Since people don’t operate on cue, not every planned moment will work out as we hope. Like a nature photographer who waits for the most perfect confluence of nature and beauty to materialize in the shot- it takes time and physical presence. A lot of “down time” needs to be invested if we hope to capture that perfect moment, without it being merely staged or contrived.

In Parshat Vayigash we read about the reunion between Yosef and his family. After reuniting with his brothers, Yosef sent the brothers to tell Yaakov. At first Yaakov does not believe that Yosef is alive. He is only convinced when “he saw the wagons that Joseph had sent to carry him.” Only then are we told that “the spirit of their father Jacob was revived.” (45:27)

What was it about the wagons? Rashi explains that the wagons were a code that Yaakov understood could have only come from Yosef. The word for wagon- Agalah- is very similar to the word Eglah- as in Eglah Arufah, the ceremony undertaken when there is unsolved murder situated between two inhabited locations. Rashi quotes the Midrash that Yaakov and Yosef were learning about this topic right before Yosef disappeared.

Is it possible that Yaakov, at over 100 years old and after 22 years would pick up on this slight hint that Yosef was dropping? Yes.

This one-on-one Torah study time between Yaakov and Yosef was quality time- treasured by both father and son.  These consistent moments between loved ones stick in our memories and shape how we view ourselves and our relationships. The wagons reminded Yosef and Yaakov of quality time spent together, something that they would always remember.

A few weeks ago our shul experienced an amazing and inspiring moment when we welcomed former hostages Guy Gilboa Dalal and Evyatar David for their first public engagement since being freed from Gaza. While the quality of that moment is unparalleled, it is also difficult if not impossible to replicate it. We need to leverage high quality, high-impact moments like that to seek out more frequent opportunities to create sustained growth. Can we utilize that moment in shul to better appreciate the potential in attending shul every Shabbat, every day? How do we utilize the quality moments in order to motivate us to engage in the quantity moments more often and more deeply?

As parents, spouses and friends let us commit to valuing both quantity time and quality time- for our loved ones and for ourselves. 

The Shalom that We Seek is Provided by Chanukah

This week’s Dvar Torah is dedicated to the memory of the 15 souls who were murdered on Sunday in Sydney, Australia, at a Chanukah festival at Bondi Beach; and as a merit for healing for the dozens of Jews physically injured and the hundreds of Jews who were directly impacted by this terror incident.

We must give credit to the Rambam for “saving Chanukah” from rabbinic oblivion. Unlike the Talmud, Maimonides has an entire section of Halacha dedicated to the Laws of Chanukah (shared with the laws of Purim, the other rabbinic holiday). Among those laws, the Rambam includes some unusually flowery and complimentary words about the holiday (Laws of Chanukah 4:12): “The mitzvah of kindling Chanukah lamps is very dear. A person should be very careful in its observance to publicize the miracle and thus increase our praise of God and our expression of thanks for the miracles which He wrought on our behalf. Even if a person has no resources for food except [what he receives] from charity, he should pawn or sell his garments and purchase oil and lamps to kindle them in fulfillment of the mitzvah.”

We see here how the Rambam embraces and encourages the celebration of Chanukah first and foremost as a pretext for expressing gratitude. Grateful people are happier people. Grateful people get more accomplished. Grateful people are less likely to take things, and people, for granted. Celebrating Chanukah for eight days focused on gratitude to Hashem should enable us to be more grateful in all areas of our life. Perhaps this is how we should understand this unusual rule that one must sell their clothes to fulfill the mitzvah of Chanukah lights. Even after the poor person sells his clothing, s/he must still express gratitude. Expressing gratitude for the holiday will inevitably lead the person to find other reasons to be grateful, even in the midst of their difficult financial situation. Perhaps they are grateful for their health or their family or their life. And if the poor guy who has to sell his clothes to buy Chanukah candles can be grateful, then how much more so must we, who are not forced to sell our clothing to buy Chanukah candles, express gratitude on Chanukah for all of the blessings that we have.

As important as Chanukah candles are, the Rambam notes in a subsequent Halacha that there is one mitzvah, one light, that is more important. (14:14) “If a person has the opportunity to fulfill only one of two mitzvot, lighting a lamp for one's home [i.e., Sabbath candles] or lighting a Chanukah lamp - the lamp for one's home receives priority, since it generates peace within the home….And the entire Torah was given to bring about peace within the world….” Shabbat candles take priority over Chanukah candles because Shabbat candles foster Shalom Bayit, peace and harmony within the home. Consider these words of Rabbi Jonathan Sacks zt’l:  “Why did Judaism, alone among the civilizations of the ancient world, survive? Because it valued the home more than the battlefield, marriage more than military grandeur, and children more than generals. Peace in the home mattered to our ancestors more than the greatest military victory” A shul cannot replace the role that families play in the development and health of Jews and the Jewish People. Nonetheless, our shul is committed to supporting individuals and families spiritually, emotionally, and religiously as they navigate the challenges of life in the 21^st century. This commitment extends to women, men, and children; single individuals and married folks; families with children, single parent households, and couples without children. While Shalom Bayit is often associated with the spousal relationship, we seek to bring more Shalom, more peace and Godliness, to our Beit Knesset and to every home in our kehillah.

Truth, and Nothing but the Truth

At the end of Parshat Vayeshev Yosef shifts roles from dreamer to dream interpreter. After interpreting the Chief Butler’s dream, the Chief Baker decides to share his dream b/c: Vayar Sar Ha’Ofim ki TOV patar.” Rabbi Yaakov Mecklenburg, 19th century German Rabbi in his commentary HaKetav V’hakabalah explains that Tov here means “correct” or “true: Which begs the question: how could the baker know that Yosef’s interpretation was true, before it came to being?  Did Yosef have some inside information about the standing of these two prisoners? Did the dream of each one contain the interpretation for his friend’s dream? The Rashbam explains simply: Nikarin Divrei Emet- the truth speaks for itself.

We unfortunately live in an era where the self-evident nature of truth is no longer widely perceived. Perhaps it is due to the internet and the overwhelming amount of accessible, unverified (not fact checked) information. Perhaps it is due to the overall pervasiveness of relativism. Perhaps it is our skepticism towards those who claim to “know the truth.” Whatever the cause, the result is that we live in an age in which Lo Nikarin Divrei Emet: the truth is not self-evident. It seems that in today’s world people are comfortable with the notion that everyone can have their own, equally-valid truth. This attitude can lead to moral relativism and a decline of society.  A hallmark of greatness is the willingness to speak the truth- even when it is unpopular, even when it is dangerous. Yosef provides us with a model. At the beginning of the Parsha he speaks the truth of his dreams even though it is met with scorn by both his brothers and his father. He speaks the truth to the Wife of Potiphar even as it causes him to lose everything he had and lands him in jail. Finally, at the end of the Parsha, Yosef’s truth speaking is recognized by his fellow prisoners and declared to be Tov, good: not just now, but all along and always. Another speaker of truth is Yehuda. The Tosefta in Brachot quotes Rabbi Akiva’s question: By what merit did Yehuda become the tribe of the monarchy, Jewish leadership? One answer suggested is “Mipnei Shehodeh B’Tamar.” He admitted the truth of his mistake even though such an admission could have been very costly. Telling the truth can be impressive; and even ameliorate mistakes. Sometimes the truth hurts. Sometimes the truth is inconvenient. Sometimes the truth is depressing. Nevertheless we must learn from the model of our forefathers, especially from Yosef and Yehuda, and be willing to speak the truth: in our homes, in our communities, and to the world. According to the Kabbalists, this world is an Olma D’shikra, a realm of deceit. The Talmud (Shabbat 55a) states that Chotamo shel Hakadosh Baruch Hu Emet: God’s signature is truth. The task for us then becomes clear: to speak the truth, and replace the deceit in this world with the sanctity of God’s signature characteristic: truth.