When the Enemy is Within

 

Many Arab advisers were jealous of the Rambam’s privileged status in Saladin’s court, and they plotted against the Rambam.  They approached Saladin and demanded the Rambam be replaced with a better, Arab doctor.

The Sultan proposed a test. He would give both doctors a week to concoct a poison that would be lethal to the other person. Each one would also have at their disposal any medicines they wished, in order to concoct an antidote for the poison made by their opponent. Whoever lived through the experience would win and become the Sultan’s physician.

At week’s end, the two doctors stood in front of the Sultan. The Arab doctor presented his poison to the Rambam. With a brief examination, The Rambam was able to quickly create the appropriate antidote, after which he consumed the poison and the antidote in quick succession. And it seemed to work.

Now it was the Arab doctor’s turn to ingest the Rambam’s concoction. He spent considerable time examining the Rambam’s poison.  Then he made what he hoped would be the antidote and swallowed both. The doctor was pleased when nothing happened to him. But then he got nervous: perhaps the Rambam’s poison was slow acting. Perhaps it would only cause death when a certain food was consumed along with it. So over the next few days he removed items from his diet, first meat, then wheat, until he was barely eating anything. Within a few weeks the Arab doctor died of a heart attack.

Upon hearing the news of the Arab doctor’s death, The Sultan summoned the Rambam to declare him the winner. He told the Rambam how impressed he was that his concoction was such a sophisticated, slow acting and deadly poison. The Rambam set the record straight: He was no killer. His concoction was nothing more than a harmless cocktail of sweet wine. The doctor had died due to complications from his own anxiety and paranoia. 

Parshat Bechukotai contains the curses that will befall the Jewish people should we veer from the path Hashem has set for us. Of the 48 curses there is only one punishment that is mentioned no less than three times:

26:17: you will flee, with no one pursuing you.

26:36: the sound of a rustling leaf will pursue them, they will flee as one flees from the sword and they will fall- but without a pursuer

26:37: They will stumble over one another as in flight from the sword, but there is no pursuer.

Rabbi Baruch Halevi Epstein asks in his commentary Tosefet Bracha: Why is fleeing from nobody considered to be such a bad punishment? I would imagine that fleeing from an actual enemy should be worse, yet it’s the situation of Ayn Rodef, when there is in fact nobody in pursuit that gets emphasized as a particularly difficult punishment.

Rabbi Epstein explains that Hashem promises us that there is hope for Divine intervention on behalf of those actually being pursued by an enemy. However there is no such promise when the enemy from which we flee is a figment of our imagination. Put another way: when confronting real enemies, we can devise a plan that entails both confrontation and prayer to Hashem. But when Ayn Rodef, the enemy is not physical, it is a different and more difficult situation; for the enemy that needs to be vanquished comes from within ourselves. 

May is Mental Health Awareness Month. Today many people feel pursued by depression, anxiety, stress and other pressures that negatively impact our mental health. We must remove the stigma that many people feel surrounding mental health challenges. Just as we don’t feel embarrassed to go to a cardiologist to address heart issues, we should not be embarrassed to visit a mental health professional to address mental health concerns. If we acknowledge the challenge, remove the stigma and encourage treatment of mental illness, then we can do our part to remove the curse, thereby ushering in the blessing of peace, including peace of mind.

Lessons from Shemittah

The current Jewish year of 5782 is a Shemitah Year. The Torah tells us that the Land of Israel can be farmed for six years, but must remain fallow in the seventh year. That year is a Shabbat for the land. Shemitah was always a very difficult mitzvah to observe. It is a test on par with the test of the Mon during the Jews’ forty year sojourn in the dessert. At that time, the Jews were miraculously supported by food from Heaven. Every night the Jews would go to sleep without any food in their cupboards and hungry children fast asleep. They had no idea where they could acquire food in a natural fashion, if need be. They were totally dependent on the daily miracle of the mon. Such dependence was meant to foster within them their faith in Hashem. The lesson of the mon continues to reverberate for us. Although we are no longer supported in such a miraculous fashion, we nonetheless are challenged to recognize the indispensable role that God plays in our achievements. The test of Shemittah is no less challenging. During the seventh year, the farmer and his family may have produce from the 6^th year to eat. However, leaving the land fallow puts into jeopardy the farmer’s ability to support himself the two years subsequent to the Shemittah year. Shemittah is a test of faith for the farmer. It is therefore not surprising that the prophets were constantly exhorting the Jewish People to strengthen their commitment to the mitzvah of Shemitah.

The Sefer Hachinuch (Mitzvah 84) mentions two other lessons that can be learned from the Shemitah year. First, it reminds us of the power of Chidush, renewal. God created the world in six days, but He also renews the world on a constant basis. Leaving the land fallow every seventh year re-energizes the soil and renews its potential to grow life-sustaining crops. Second, Shemitah teaches us the importance of caring for others. During the Shemitah year, one’s land is considered ownerless, and its produce is available to anyone who wishes to partake of it. The farmer is reminded that even though much of his energies are spent on worrying about his own family, he has a responsibility to his fellow Jew and the broader world as well.

We who live in the Diaspora have limited access to fulfilling the mitzvah of Shemitah. The technical rules of Shemitah become relevant when we vbiosit Israel this year or if Israeli produce is imported to our stores. However the lessons of Shemitah: trust in God, concern for other and appreciating the power of renewal, are lessons that are very relevant. Let us utilize Shemitah 5782 to strengthen our commitment to these values.

Our Count Begins the Day After Shabbat

 

In Parshat Emor (23:15), the Torah introduces the mitzvah of counting the Omer between Pesach and Shavuot by telling us that our count should begin “Mi’macharat HaShabbat”, literally “the day after the Sabbath.” During the Second Temple era this phrase was the subject of a bitter debate between the Sadducees and the Rabbis. The Sadduccees understood this verse to mean that we begin to count Sefira on the first Sunday that occurs after the onset of Pesach. The Rabbis understood that the word “Shabbat” in this context refers to the first day of Pesach. We follow the Rabbis and begin counting Sefira on the second night of Pesach. The Talmud tells us that this debate was so contentious and serious that the date on which the Rabbis prevailed and the Sadducees relented was declared a holiday.

            If the Torah meant the day after Pesach, why does it use the expression “the day after Shabbat”?

            Judaism recognizes the integrity of both the Written and Oral Torah. Sometimes these two vehicles are utilized to convey two different lessons from the very same concept. The most famous example of this is the phrase in the Torah “An eye for an eye.” Our Rabbis interpreted this to mean that a person must pay money as compensation for the infliction of bodily injury. If the law is that money is paid and the perpetrator does not lose his eye, then why does the Torah use the language of “an eye for an eye”? The answer is that the Torah is teaching us a meta-legal principle. To really appreciate the extent of the damage that he has caused, the perpetrator should have to experience some degree of physical pain. No amount of money can make up for the loss and pain suffered by the victim. By right, “An eye for an eye” should be executed literally. However such a system would perpetuate a cycle of violence that the Torah does not want. By utilizing a strict language while interpreting the phrase in financial terms, we are able to learn both lessons from one phrase.

            The same can be said to explain our phrase by Sefirat Haomer. Practically speaking, the Rabbis teach us that the count begins on the second day of Pesach. Yet the Torah utilizes the language of “the day after Shabbat” to teach us an important lesson. The number seven symbolizes the role that G-d plays in the creation and maintenance of the world. G-d created the world in 6 days and rested/ created Shabbat on the seventh. The number eight symbolizes the need for human beings to add our input and become partners with G-d in this world. In the song we sing at the end of the seder, the number eight corresponds to the brit milah, performed on the eighth day of a boy’s life. The Medrash explains that one of the lessons of circumcision is that man is not created perfect by G-d. We have to do our part to perfect ourselves and the world.

            On Pesach we were redeemed from slavery by the grace of Hashem. The people were passive and depended on the kindness of God. Right after Pesach, we are commanded to count the Omer. It is now time for us to leave our mark on the world. “Mimacharat Hashabbat” teaches us that our count begins a new week and represents a new era. Now that we have thanked Hashem for the Exodus, it is time to do our part, add our unique imprint, and become partners with Hashem.

Be Happy- Like Israelis

 Are Israelis happy people? Based on their own admissions, the answer is a resounding yes. Israel has climbed three spots to ninth, its highest-ever placing, in the annual UN-sponsored World Happiness index. It came in 12th last year, up from 14th in 2020. Besides being the Jewish homeland, Israel is a country with a lot of positives. Perhaps most importantly, it is a country that while situated in a challenging part of the globe, understands the importance of optimism. Psychologist Martin Seligman identified a number of characteristics that are associated with optimistic people. Optimists are more likely to internalize positive events; they see themselves as in control of their destiny. That’s why optimists are not likely to give up in the face of adversity. On the other hand, pessimists externalize; they see success as being beyond their control.

 In light of Seligman’s research we can understand why Israel ranks so high in the Happiness survey. In the face of adversity, the founders of Medinat Yisrael never gave up. They took their future into their own hands. 74 years later, Israel continues to believe that a better future happens through our hard work and effort (and prayer).

 Today, many countries are stuck in a pervasive cloud of pessimism. We hear about an impending global economic crisis that many people believe was not our doing and yet we have no ability to avoid. This feeling of helplessness has been generalized and turned into a feeling of despair.

 The dangers of helplessness/ pessimism can be learned from a mitzvah in Parshat Kedoshim. In the fifth aliyah we learn of the prohibition against the disturbing idolatrous practices of Molech, which included child sacrifice. Rabbi Samson Raphael Hirsch notes that the name Molech is related to the word Melech, but whereas Melech refers to a specific person, ie the king, Molech refers to an abstract concept of power. Rabbi Hirsch goes on to explain that whether the Molech service involved actual child sacrifice or merely passing children through a fire its purpose was to appease fate. The thinking was that the best we can do is offer one child up to fate with the hope that this will somehow protect the rest of our family from being hurt. (This might explain why if a person offers all of his children in a Molech service, then he is exempt from punishment.) 

The Molech service is predicated on a profound pessimism, a feeling that the world runs in a random fashion and that we have no control over our lives. The Torah makes a point to reject Molech and to emphasize the severity of approaching life in a pessimistic manner. On the heels of Yom Haatzmaut, let us commit to a can-do attitude. Like the Zionist pioneers, let us remember that we have the ability to shape our destiny through serious thought, hard work and an optimistic attitude