Lessons Beyond the Classroom

Prior to his death Yaakov blessed his grandsons Ephraim and Menashe. He prefaced that blessing with a peculiar introduction:

וְעַתָּ֡ה שְׁנֵֽי־בָנֶ֩יךָ֩ הַנּֽוֹלָדִ֨ים לְךָ֜ בְּאֶ֣רֶץ מִצְרַ֗יִם עַד־בֹּאִ֥י אֵלֶ֛יךָ מִצְרַ֖יְמָה לִי־הֵ֑ם אֶפְרַ֨יִם֙ וּמְנַשֶּׁ֔ה כִּרְאוּבֵ֥ן וְשִׁמְע֖וֹן יִֽהְיוּ־לִֽי:

And now, [as for] your two sons, who were born to you in the land of Egypt, until I came to you, to the land of Egypt they are mine. Ephraim and Manasseh shall be mine like Reuben and Simeon.

Rabbi Moshe Feinstein asks: why does Yaakov say that specifically his grandsons born in Egypt prior to Yaakov’s arrival in Egypt are considered like his sons? We would have though the opposite. Those grandsons that were born once Yaakov arrived in Egypt should be more dear to Yaakov since Yaakov was present for their entire lives, compared to Ephraim and Menashe who were born in Egypt while Yaakov was still in Canaan. Rabbi Feinstein answers that Yaakov is teaching his family- and all of us- that Chinuch, Jewish education, must transcend the walls of a family’s home and the walls of a classroom. The greatest testament to Yaakov’s strong Jewish identity and deep Jewish values are evident when we consider the fact that Yaakov had grandchildren who lived by the values of their grandfather without ever meeting Yaakov during their early formative years. We have the ability through what we do and what we value to make an impression on those with whom we interact, including and especially our children.  Here Rabbi Feinstein is suggesting that when we teach our children through word and deed we can have a positive impact on our grandchildren and future generations, even those whom we don’t meet and those with whom we do not spend much time.

This idea from Rabbi Feinstein reminded me of a story that I vaguely remembered regarding the power of a lesson beyond the classroom and the mitzvah of Hashavat Aveida, returning a lost object. Thanks to Google I was able to find a version of the story, as told/ quoted by Dr. Erica Brown, Vice Provost for Values and Leadership at Yeshiva University and the founding director of YU’s Rabbi Lord Jonathan Sacks-Herenstein Center for Values and Leadership. (Quoted from Weekly Jewish Wisdom, February 11, 2016):

“Many years ago, I was teaching in several gap year programs in Israel and carpooled with another faculty member to one of the programs. Impressed with a student in one of my classes, I asked my colleague if he knew her. He told me she had a fascinating story. She was set on studying in an ashram in India. On the way, she stopped off to see family in Israel. Her relative took her to a class in the Old City of Jerusalem on the topic of hashavat aveida, returning lost objects. The minutiae of Jewish law bored her to tears; she told her relative that this was precisely why she was going to India: to escape the legality of Judaism for the spirituality of an ashram. She studied for months with a guru. One day, she was walking and talking with her teacher, when they saw a lost wallet. He pocketed it and said the Indian equivalent of “finders, keepers, losers, weepers.” Suddenly, she recalled her Shabbat in Jerusalem. But this time, the class did not seem so boring. It seemed honest, authentic and ethical. She left India and went back to Jerusalem, where I had her as a student. And thus, returning lost objects helped her return to the tradition in which she was raised.”

Don't Just Exist- Really Live!

In Parshat Vayigash, Yaakov and Yosef are reunited and Yosef brings his father to meet Pharoh. Their meeting begins with Yaakov blessing Paroh, and then Pharoh asks a question in response:

חוַיֹּאמֶר פַּרְעֹה אֶל יַעֲקֹב כַּמָּה יְמֵי שְׁנֵי חַיֶּיךָ

And Pharaoh said to Jacob, "How many are the days of the years of your life?"

I view this question as an equivalent to a “How are you?” The socially correct answer in this situation would be a short factual response- which is what Yaakov initially provides:

וַיֹּאמֶר יַעֲקֹב אֶל פַּרְעֹה יְמֵי שְׁנֵי מְגוּרַי שְׁלשִׁים וּמְאַת שָׁנָה

The days of the years of my sojourning are one hundred thirty years.

But then Yaakov goes off the rails and things quickly get uncomfortable, as Yaakov continues:

מְעַט וְרָעִים הָיוּ יְמֵי שְׁנֵי חַיַּי

The days of the years of my life have been few and miserable

This is a classic case of TMI- too much information. Pharoh was merely trying to make chit chat with his viceroy’s father, and Yaakov has to go ahead and ruin it by making things all serious.

So one lesson we can learn from this exchange in our Parsha is: let’s make sure our words are meaningful. Let’s consider a greeting other than “How are you?” and save that question for people and situations when we are really interested in the answer.

 

I want to turn to Yaakov’s response: It’s pretty shocking. Yaakov kvetches that his days have been “few” and miserable. Both claims can be challenged. The Ramban notes that by this time, a long life span was down to 70-80 years. So 130 years is nothing to complain about!

Second, things may not have always worked out in the easy most straightforward way for Yaakov. But for the most part- in the end things work out for him. Yaakov must flee from Eisav- but ultimately reconciles with him. Yaakov is persecuted by his father in law, but ultimately is able to leave as a rich man.  Sure, Yaakov had tzuris. But we would not expect our Patriarch to describe his life as “miserable.”

 

The Malbim (19^th century Russian commentator) encourages us to look at the text carefully:

When he first answers the question, Yaakov states that his “Yemei Shnei Megurai” is 130 years. However Yaakov uses a slightly different language “Yemei Shnai Chayei” – when referring to his life as short and miserable.

 

Explains the Malbim: The term “Shnay Megurei” refers to the years that Yaakov had lived on this planet: which solicits a factual answer: 130 years. What was few and miserable for Yaakov was his “Shnay Chayei”- the time Yaakov felt he was able to really live. To engage in meaningful activities. To help others, to learn Torah, to connect with family and with Hashem.

Yaakov’s response to Pharoh challenges us to consider what ways we are really living during the years that God gives us in this life. And how we can increase our Shnot Chayim during our sojourn on this planet.

 

As Abraham Lincoln put it: “In the end, it’s not the years in your life that count. It’s the life in your years.” Let’s do our best to live life to the fullest, as taught to us by our Torah and by our tradition.

No Time to Slack Off

In Parshat Miketz we read about the rise of Yosef into the second most powerful man in Egypt. The Torah tells us that Yosef got married and had children (41:50): “And to Joseph were born two sons before the year of the famine set in, whom Asenath the daughter of Poti phera, the governor of On, bore to him.”

The Talmud (Taanit 11) notes that Yosef’s sons were born before the onset of the famine in Egypt and learns from here that a person is not allowed to have children during a famine. This is codified in Shulchan Aruch (YD 240:12). Tosfot in Taanit asks how it can be forbidden to have children during a famine, if we have a tradition that Yocheved, Moshe’s mother, was born to Levi as Yaakov and his family arrived in Egypt- during the second year of the famine! Tosfot suggests that not having children during a famine is actually a “Midat Chasidut”, a pious yet voluntary practice. The Ohr HaChayim finds it problematic to suggest that Levi did not observe this pious practice in light of the pasuk in V’Zot Habracha:  וּלְלֵוִ֣י אָמַ֔ר תֻּמֶּ֥יךָ וְאוּרֶ֖יךָ לְאִ֣ישׁ חֲסִידֶ֑ךָ “And of Levi he said: "Your Tummim and Urim belong to Your pious man”. The Ohr HAchayim therefore explains that the restriction only applies to those who have already fulfilled the mitzvah to “Be fruitful and multiply”. The consensus is that this mitzvah is fulfilled by having (minimally) one son and one daughter. Since Levi had not yet had a daughter he was not bound by this restriction. According to the Ohr Hachayim Yosef was also not obligated to observe this restriction because he had not yet fulfilled the mitzvah of Pru Urevu, but he did so for some other reason that was not relevant to Levi.

Rabbi Yochanan Zweig suggests a different reason for the difference in practice between Yosef and Levi. Refraining from having more children is an expression of empathy with the plight of those who are suffering from hunger. Rabbi Zweig suggests that this restriction only applies to those who have enough to eat, but must abide by this restriction as a way to feel the pain of others. However those who are actually impacted by the famine share in the actual pain of those who are hungry. They do not need to adopt practices to show solidarity and empathy with those who are suffering- because they themselves are suffering too. If they have the perspective that God is the ultimate provider of sustenance, whether it’s a lot or a little; and children are a blessing, no matter the circumstances- then they would not be bound by the Talmud’s restriction and they would be allowed to have children during a famine. Levi was impacted by the famine in Egypt, so he was not bound by the Tamud’s restriction. Yosef had access to as much food as he and his family needed; he was therefore subject to the Talmud’s restriction meant to demonstrate empathy.

As we pass the two month mark for the war in Gaza, we must not lose sight of our obligation to empathize with Israel and her citizens, to keep them at the forefront of our minds and to fight the urge and the natural proclivity to return to normal life. The situation in Israel is just as abnormal and serious today as it was on October 7 and 8. In the immediate aftermath of Simchat Torah, many of us were paralyzed. Then we became mobilized. I fear that we are now becoming fatigued, losing our momentum, and unsure of how much longer we can “keep this up”. We need to find new outlets, and strengthen old ones, to show our empathy, solidarity and support until Israel is victorious and the threats to our homeland have been eliminated.

The Struggle Over Ideas- Then and Now

Chanukah celebrates the victory of the Chashmonaim over the Greeks. While the Jews won that battle, the war between these two cultures and worldviews continues to this very day. Much has been written about the clash of ideology separating Jerusalem from Athens. Nineteenth-century German poet-philosopher Heinrich Heine suggested that for the Greeks beauty was truth whereas for the Hebrews truth was beauty, and late-20th-century philosopher William Barrett maintained that while the Greeks idealized philosophic speculation and theoretical meditation, the Hebrews emphasized moral and ethical conduct in daily human behavior as being the highest good.

Rabbi Shlomo Riskin suggested another significant distinction between the Greek and Hebrew cultures, one which reverberates to this very day. The answer to the Greek Riddle of the Sphinx “Who walks on four in the morning, on two in the afternoon and on three in the evening?” is Man, who crawls about as a baby, stands upright as an adult and has need of a cane in old age. C.M. Bowra, the great interpreter of the wisdom of Hellas, suggests that indeed Man is the answer, not only to the Riddle of the Sphinx but to every question worth asking. Pythagoras taught that “Man is the measure of all things”; for the famed sculptor Praxiteles, the human form was the most perfect of all forms (and therefore for the ancient Greeks circumcision was a heinous crime because it maimed the perfect human body); and the chorus of Sophocles’ Antigone iterates and reiterates, “Many are the awesome-awful (Hebrew nora, nora’ot) phenomena, but none more awesome-awful than man.”

Hence the gods on Mount Olympus were formed in the image of man, endowed with human and mostly physical characteristics: Zeus was the most powerful, unpitying and terrible; Aphrodite was the goddess of love, beauty and pleasure; Hermes was the god of speed. The gods were created in the image of humans, warring and jealous human-like beings, idealizing their most physical and even animalistic traits.

Judaism, explains Rabbi Riskin, is the very antithesis of this. Human beings are created in the image of God, duty bound to walk in God’s ways and to emulate His Divine characteristics of love, compassion, patience, loving-kindness and truth. “Just as the Holy One Blessed be He is called compassionate, so must you be compassionate, just as He grants His grace freely, so must you grant grace freely....”

This distinction between Athens and Jerusalem is important for all Jews to remember as we navigate a society still enamored by many of the ideas that originated in Greek philosophy. But understanding this distinction is especially important for students on secular college campuses. College is an exciting time to learn and explore new ideas. Many of these ideas are directly from, or derivatives of, Greek ideas. And as the Talmud teaches us “Yesh Chochma BaGoyim”, we should not be so quick to dismiss ideas that are attributable to the Greeks. At the same time we must study and expand our minds from a Jewish perspective. We are first and foremost proud, educated, sophisticated Jews. The current climate on college campuses is one that is concerning to anyone who rejects the idea that all of life must be viewed through the prism of postmodernism, subjective morality, and Marxist class struggle. We celebrate Chanukah and appreciate why the Maccabee victory over the Greeks was so important then- and why we must continue to fight that fight today in ways that continue to shape our Jewish identity and serve as a light and enlightenment for the world.

Responding to Eisav’s Three Questions

 In Parshat Vayishlach we read how Yaakov prepares to reunite with his brother Eisav after 20 years of separation. Chazal understands that the confrontation between Yaakov and Eisav serves as the model for all of history as to how the Jewish People should interact with other nations, especially when the other nations is presenting as antagonistic or unfriendly. Rashi quotes the Midrash Tanchuma:

“Jacob prepared himself for three things: for a gift, for war, and for prayer. For a gift, [as Scripture says] (verse 22): “So the gift passed on before him.” For prayer, as Scripture says (verse 10): “God of my father Abraham…” For war, as Scripture says: “the remaining camp will escape.”

This is the blueprint for all time, including today and Israel’s current war with Hamas. We must engage in this battle against evil on three fronts. We must put in our effort, both on the battlefield (ie “war”) but also in supporting our soldiers on the front lines through material and moral support. At the same time we must never lose sight of the fact that our efforts are only part of the picture, and ultimately victory is decided by Hashem. We therefore must increase our efforts in terms of teshuva, tefilah, and tzedaka to create the merits that will tip the scales in Heaven towards victory and the elimination of evil.

Yaakov sends messengers to do reconnaissance on Eisav, and he tells them that Eisav will ask them three questions (32:17-18): “"When my brother Esau meets you, and asks you, saying, 'To whom do you belong, and where are you going, and for whom are these before you?' In a speech in 1964 Rav Soloveitchik explained these questions as relevant for the Jewish People to always ask as we consider our role in the world.

“Jacob anticipated that Esau would ask three questions of him and his family as they approached to take up residence in Canaan. ‘To whom do you belong’- ie to whom do you pledge your ultimate loyalty? ‘Where are you going?’ ie what objectives and goals do you seek for yourself in the future? These two questions relates to Jacob’s soul and spiritual identity. Consequently, Jacob commanded his representatives to reply boldly, clearly, and precisely that their souls, their personalities, their metaphysical identities, their spiritual future and social commitment were the private concerns of Jacob. ‘They are your servant Jacob’s’ and no human power may interfere or attempt to sever this eternal bond with God which had been established in the covenant with Abraham.”

Eisav’s first two questions force Yaakov- and his descendants- to acknowledge the Jewish People’s unique, and sometimes, lonely role within the world. Am Yisrael has a unique relationship with Hashem, with Torah and with the Land of Israel. We must declare this with pride whether the rest of the world is ready or willing to accept this reality.

Rav Soloveitchik continues and suggests that while we must at time stand alone, we have a mandate to contribute to the broader society and world around us:

“The third question is focused on secular aspects of life. To this question Jacob instructed his agent to answer in the affirmative: ‘It is a present to my lord Esau.’ Yes, we are determined to participate in every civic, scientific, political enterprise. We feel obligated to enrich society with our creative talents and to be constructive and useful citizens.”

Even as we remain firm in our Jewish identity, we have a mandate to use those Jewish values to contribute to the broader world. Today it seems that much of the world has no interest in hearing what the Jewish People have to say and have to contribute. But we know that it is through this dual commitment to both our Jewish identity and to positively impacting the world, that will ultimately bring about victory and redemption.

The Unity of 290,000

 I am proud to have joined over 100 members of our shul at Tuesday’s March for Israel on the National Mall in Washington DC. Leading up to the day of the rally there was a lot of talk about the attendance. How many people do you think will show up? The Palestinian march in London had 300,000. Yeah, but there are a billion Muslims in the world and only 16 million Jews. The last mass rally for Israel in 2002 had 100,000 people. No, there were more, the media underestimated. Does the parks department actually count the crowds at these events? Check the internet where you can learn that the parks department does not count or estimate crowd size at DC events.  The rally in Washington in 1987 for Soviet Jewry had 250,000 people. Do you think that many will show up this time? Somewhere in their permit request, the event organizers listed an anticipated crowd of 60,000. News media picked up on that phrase and began talking about the “tens of thousands” who are expected to show up. Rally organizers encouraged Jewish organizations planning to attend the rally to not talk about the anticipated total size of the rally, lest that number not be reached leading news media to spin the story as a “disappointing crowd shows up to support Israel.”

When I arrived at the rally an hour before start time there were a lot of people but there was also still a lot of space. By the time the program started the area in which I was standing was full. It would have been challenging for me to move around at that point so I decided to stay put and “rally” from one spot. It was difficult from my vantage point (towards the front, near the first set of screens) and from my height to see the size of the crowd. When it was announced that the crowd was 290,000 strong, the largest pro-Israel rally ever held in America, my heart swelled with pride. Pride in the Jewish community’s ability to mobilize and to come together with a strong voice in support of Israel. Pride that I and my daughter Shoshana had the opportunity to witness history and be a part of this moment. Pride in the strength of Am Yisrael and the virtue of Israel’s cause, one that you don’t have to be Jewish in order to appreciate. This was evident from the many “Christians Stand with Israel” signs at the rally.

While standing on the National Mall, I had no idea how many others were standing with me. Perhaps that is an apt metaphor for our current moment. The voices that today spew vitriolic anti-Israel and pro Hamas sentiment may be loud but they in fact represent a small number, too many for sure, but a small number relative to the total population of the United States. My experience makes me wonder about the little-known blessing that the Talmud records one is supposed to make when part of a crowd of 600,000: Baruch Ata…….Chacham Harazeem: “Blessed are You Hashem…the Knower of secrets.” On my way back from Dc I wondered: without drones or helicopters, how would anyone ever know that they were actually part of a group of 600,000? Practically this bracha is never recited. However, the language of the blessing is intriguing. What does a huge crowd have to do with God knowing secrets?

The Talmud (Brachot 58s) explains that every person is unique and yet God is able to know what each of us is thinking. Perhaps the lesson for us is that in the crowd on Tuesday in DC, there were 290,000 different motivations and reasons for being there. Yet God knows that there is a common theme that united us all. I believe that those of us in attendance were able to tap into that knowledge and feel the unity during the three hours of the rally. May we find ways to tap into that unity of cause and unity of purpose going forward – in service to Israel, our community and our world.

Timeless and Timely Lessons from Chevron

In a normal year, tens of thousands of Jews spend Shabbat in Chevron and Kiryat Arba for Shabbat Chayei Sara. In this week’s Parsha we read how Avraham sought out the cave complex in Chevron as a family burial plot, first for his wife Sara and ultimately for the family. Of course with the ongoing war in Gaza against Hamas there will be no mass gathering in Chevron this year. It is not feasible nor advisable to divert so many resources away from the war effort at this time.

Last week, as part of the OU synagogue leadership mission to Israel, we visited Chevron. We prayed Maariv at Mearat Hamchpela and then walked to Beit Hadasah, where there is a museum that tells the history of Chevron (with special focus on the 1929 Hebron riots) and a community center where we had dinner. In my few visits to Chveron I had never walked passed the pizza shop. As I was making the 10 minute walk through Chevron (with an armed escort of Israeli soldiers) last Wednesday night, I couldn’t help but note how odd it was that Chevron was one of the safer places to be in Israel at that moment. While it is true that the city numbers a few hundred Jews surrounded by tens of thousands of Arabs, the security situation in Chevron seems to be stable, if not calm from what I could see. And Chevron is rarely a target for rockets, and even when it is the city is far away from rocket launches giving people over a minute to prepare.

In Chevron we met with Eliyahu Liebman. Eliyahu was born in Kiryat Arba and his bris was the first one held at Mearat Hamachpela after 1967. When he was 10 years old Eliyahu moved to Beit HAdasah in Chevron. In 1980 a terrorist cell came to Beit HAdasah and killed 6 Yeshiva students while injuring 16. During the attack, young Eliyahu ran and hid in a closet; just like how little Israeli children ran to hide on the morning of Simchat Torah. Today Eliyahu os mayor of Kiryat Arba. One of the terrorists involved in the 1980 attack is now the Mayor of Hebron who boasts about his terrorist activities. Eliyahu’s son, Eliyakim Shlomo ben Avishag, was working security at the music festival. Instead of running away he and his friend Eitan Mor stayed to help people run away as well as to preserve the dignity of the dead. As a result, Eliyakim and Eitan were captured by Hamas and are presumed to be held captive in Gaza. Eliyahu told us that Hamas wants Israel and Jews to be afraid. In response we must not be afraid (neiother afraid of the enemy nor afraid to do what must be done to permanently neutralize the enemy), and we must not rely on miracles.

We also met Eitan Mor’s parents, Tzvika and Efrat Mor. Tzvika told us that Israel has been in a defensive posture for the last few decade, relying more and more on technology, cameras, and shelters in order to survive. Tzvika suggested that we need to change our mindset- part of which is to reconnect to our heritage, to Jerusalem and to Chevron. There is a Hollywood connection to this story: Eitan Mor is our member Nancy Zombek’s cousin. These are just two stories of thousands of stories of tragedy and heroism that have emerged since Simchat Torah. Let us retell these stories as a tribute to the individuals invo,ved as well as a tribute and source of strength for the Jewish People.

The State of Medinat Yisrael

I am writing this as I sit in the hotel lobby waiting for my ride to Ben Gurion Airport. Phil Baratz and I have just wrapped up a whirlwind 3 day mission to Israel organized by the OU for shul Rabbis and lay leaders. We posted in real time much of our itinerary and some initial thoughts in a WhatsApp group that close to 300 of you joined. We also sent out a daily email to the entire congregation. It will take some time for me to process what we saw and heard and I look forward to sharing with you aspects of the trip in the weeks and months ahead. One of my colleagues suggested that we be deliberate and thoughtful as we “unpack” what we saw. The image of unpacking luggage from a trip is a good one. Most of us want to unpack as quickly as possible in order to put away the suitcases. Delays in unpacking can be a source of tension and arguments within some families. But when it comes to experiences that are full of significance it is ok to take your time when unpacking. Chazal say that parshat Vayera is followed by Parshat Chayei Sara because Sara died upon hearing the news about the Akeidah. In fact, Avraham did NOT slaughter Yitzchak. However the news was unpacked in a haphazard and clumsy way such that it literally scared Sara to death. And so while I am happy to discuss my trip with you one on one, I will not be sharing highlights or specifics this Shabbat. While I will do my best to unpack my actual bags before Shabbat, I plan on waiting to unpack this Israel experience until  after Shabbat. US presidents often start their state of the Union address with the words “The state of our Union is….” In that spirit I will say that the state of Medinat Yisrael is strong.   Israelis may be sad but they do not express fear; they are strong and resolute. They refuse to remain in a state of helplessness nor hopelessness. They are committed to not only surviving but to finding the lessons to be learned from this war that can bring some meaning to the situation and make the world a better place. As we seek out ways to tangibly support and stand with Israel at this time, let us strive to emulate this Israeli resolve.

The Long, Big Picture of Jewish History

On Wednesday night we hosted the Hollywood launch of the OU’s GenAleph parenting program (https://genaleph.org ). One strategy Dr. Norman Blumenthal mentioned for dealing with the stress and anxiety brought on by the current situation in Israel (in adults and children) is to try to remind ourselves of the resilience of the Jewish People throughout our history. Rav Hirsch makes a similar point from Parshat Lech Lecha. Rabbi Samson Raphael Hirsch says there is significance in the fact that G-d told Avraham, the first Jew, to go out and look at the stars.

If a person is accustomed only to looking at “our world”, at earth, he gets into a mode of thinking that everything is “nature”. The sun rises in the morning and sets in the evening. There are laws of physics. Everything is a set pattern that is never broken.

This natural order of things is perhaps appropriate for the nations of the world, but it is not appropriate for Klal Yisroel.

“You, Avraham, have to go out and look at the stars.”

Amidst the vast constellations, one has a clearer view of the Hand of G-d. One becomes more aware that there is a concept of Hashgocha Pratit, Divine Providence- that there is a G-d out there who directs and takes interest in a person’s and a nation’s life.

As Rav Hirsch puts it: “Therefore, maybe Avraham, it appears to you that you are childless. Maybe by looking merely at this earth and this world, you get into the mindset that ‘I am childless I never have had children; I never will have children.’ But look up into the Heaven, into the realm of the stars where that Hand of G-d is more apparent. That is your lot Avraham, and the lot of your children. Yours is not a destiny and a future of ‘Nature’ (teva), it is a ‘super-natural’ (L’ma-ala min haTeva) destiny and future.”

Some have noted that Avraham was born in the Hebrew year 1948. And 75 years later (in the jewish year of 2023) Hashem told Avraham that the destiny of his descendants would be in the Land of Israel. In the secular year of 1948 the State of Israel was born. Now 75 years later we are being called upon to recommit to focus on Israel, support her and make clear to the world that the Divine promise to Avraham lives on in the modern Jewish homeland.

 When one looks at history, where are the Egyptians, the Phoenicians, the Babylonians? Where are all these great powers that ruled the world? There is only one nation that is still around after 4,000 years. That is Klal Yisroel. This is ‘above the course of nature’. This is what G-d wanted Avraham to see by looking at the stars: Jewish history and Jewish destiny defies logic and rules of history. We must do what we can but ultimately we can rely on no one but Hashem Himself.

Bringing Out Our Best- Even After the Stress

After the flood, Noach sends a dove to see if the waters have cleared. At first the dove does not find any sanctuary and returns to the ark. The Midrash explains that the Jewish People are likened to a dove. Just as the dove from Noah’s Ark at first found no rest, so too the Jewish People find no rest in exile. Unfolding events in Israel have left the Jewish People particularly restless and anxious.

Though we are blessed to witness Jewish sovereignty over our Jewish homeland, current events remind us that the Geulah Sheleimah, complete redemption, has yet to arrive. These days Geulah seems very far off.

Our Torah reading depicts a drastic transformation in Noach’s character- for the worse.  At first Noach is described as an ish tzadik, a righteous man, who courageously opposed the corrupt values and lifestyle of his contemporaries and charted his own path of piety and morality. 

By the time we arrive at the latter part of the parsha, however, something has changed.  This downward slide begins when he plants a vineyard after the flood, and hits bottom when he becomes intoxicated and humiliates himself in the presence of his sons.  What happened? Why the drastic change for the worse?

Rav Aharon Lichtenstein zatzal suggested that Noach’s negative transformation resulted from the absence of pressure and the resolution of any crises.  Very often, the assault on a value or idea fuels the flames of devotion among the faithful.  Opposition and pressure imposed by external threats, can ignite a passionate response to defend that which is attacked.  Noach’s righteousness may have been the product of the world’s opposition, his response to an external force that declared war on decency and morality.  After the flood, however, Noach had no opposition. He was left to contemplate himself, his own weaknesses and drives.

When confronted with crisis and pressure, like when Israel is under attack, we, like Noach, are at our best; we remember to put aside our differences and work for a common cause. Like Noach, a new challenge arises after the crisis is resolved: maintaining that spirit of cooperation, mutual respect and achdut in the absence of any pressing forcing us to do so.

I hope that our actions on behalf of Israel are effective and impactful. I hope that our tefillot on behalf of the State and citizens of Israel are accepted and that evil is eradicated in a way that is maximally safe and peaceful. I hope that this Shabbat inspires us to continue talking and working together on behalf of all noble causes, now and even after the threat has been resolved, that help Israel the Jewish People and the entire world.

The Mitzvah to Persevere

We all know intellectually that life is fragile and can change in an instant. Yet most of us (dare I say all of us?) live our lives day to day without that realization front and center in our minds. Perhaps this is for the best. Thinking about the frailty of life all the time would be depressing and cause debilitating anxiety leaving us unable to function, let alone have the energy and drive to build and to dream and to rejoice.

For Simchat Torah I had prepared a shiur about “Spitting in Jewish Tradition”. It was inspired by the ugly news reports I had read about Jews spitting at Christians during the Tabernacle (aka Sukkot) holiday in the Old City of Jerusalem. When I was preparing the shiur and printing source sheets on Friday, that news item was one of the bigger ones coming out of Israel.

How things have changed since then. I still feel at a loss of words to process or mourn for the horrible events of last Shabbat/ Shemini Atzeret in Israel: the worst massacre of Jews since the Holocaust. But we must find words: words of support and solidarity, words of Tehillim and Tefilah and Torah, words of encouragement, words of care and concern and words of commitments and contributions.

The question that every Rabbi in every American shul had last Shabbat afternoon was: what should our Simchat Torah look like? The following are some of the ideas I shared last Saturday night, between Mincha and Maariv, just before the onset of Simchat Torah. I said that to celebrate Simchat Torah as if nothing happened was not possible. It would be callous and a violation of our sacred obligation of Areivut and a rejection of our shared identity with our brothers and sisters in Israel. On the same time I felt that cancelling Simchat Torah altogether was also not the right response. First of all, there is a practical consideration. If we would cancel Simchat Torah- what would most people do instead? Second of all, most of our Simchat Torah activities were centered around and directed to children. Jewish law guides us to be careful with how we expose children to mourning practices. I felt that we needed to have a Simchat Torah celebration, at the very least for the children of our community, but that even the children should see that our celebration is not as usual and that something is wrong- without going into any horrible details.

And so I suggested that we have an intentional and purposeful Simchat Torah; one without frivolity but with purpose. I noted that we would sing songs on Simchat Torah for three reasons. First, our songs would be songs of prayer. Second, our songs would be songs of solidarity. Last, our songs would be songs of strength and resilience.

I found both Simchat Torah night and day to be uplifting and meaningful. I think back to last Shabbat and  Sunday as an exercise in resilience. The first mitzvah in the Torah is “Peru Urevu”- “Be Fruitful and Multiply” While Peru means to have progeny the word “Revu” is more difficult to precisely translate. Perhaps Peru Urevu is commanding us to be fruitful- and be resilient. It’s not enough to exist or to survive. We must be demonstrate resilience in order to persevere in the face of challenges in order maximize our experiences and our purpose during our lifetimes.

Dear Friends,

 I hope you enjoy the amazing story below.

While Simchat Torah is an occasion for Jews of all ages to celebrate and to enjoy, it is especially a time to focus on our youth, for parents to celebrate with their children, and for all adults in our community to celebrate the future of our Jewish community. That is why much of the celebration and events over Simchat Torah are geared towards children. I invite you to take part in our Simchat Torah festivities at shul, where we will celebrate the Torah- our heritage, along with our youth of- our destiny.

Henryk was very young in 1945, when the War ended and solitary survivors tried frantically to trace their relatives. He had spent what seemed to be most of his life with his nanny, who had hidden him away from the Nazis at his father's request. There was great personal risk involved, but the woman had readily taken it, as she loved the boy.

All the Jews were being killed, and Henryk's nanny did not think for a moment that the father, Joseph Foxman, would survive the infamous destruction of the Vilna Ghetto. He would surely have been transferred to Auschwitz -— and everyone knew that nobody ever came back from Auschwitz. She therefore had no scruples about adopting the boy, having him baptized into the Catholic Church and taught catechism by the local priest.

Not far from the house, they passed the church and the boy reverently crossed himself, causing his father great anguish. Just then, a priest emerged who knew the boy, and when Henryk rushed over to kiss his hand, the priest spoke to him, reminding him of his Catholic faith. It was Simchat Torah when his father came to take him. The heartbroken nanny had packed all his clothing and his small catechism book, stressing to the father that the boy had become a good Catholic. Joseph Foxman took his son by the hand and led him directly to the Great Synagogue of Vilna. On the way, he told his son that he was a Jew and that his name was Avraham.

They entered the Great Synagogue of Vilna, now a remnant of a past, vibrant Jewish era. There they found some Jewish survivors from Auschwitz who had made their way back to Vilna and were now rebuilding their lives and their Jewish spirits. Amid the stark reality of their suffering and terrible loss, in much diminished numbers, they were singing and dancing with real joy while celebrating Simchat Torah.

Avraham stared wide-eyed around him and picked up a tattered prayer book with a touch of affection. Something deep inside of him responded to the atmosphere, and he was happy to be there with the father he barely knew. He held back, though, from joining the dancing. 

A Jewish man wearing a Soviet Army uniform could not take his eyes off the boy, and he came over to Joseph. "Is this child... Jewish?" he asked, a touch of awe in his voice.

The father nodded permission, and the soldier hoisted the boy high onto his shoulders. With tears now coursing down his cheeks and a heart full of real joy, the soldier joined in the dancing. The father answered that the boy was Jewish and introduced his son. As the soldier stared at Henryk-Avraham, he fought to hold back tears. "Over these four terrible years, I have traveled thousands of miles, and this is the first live Jewish child I have come across in all this time. Would you like to dance with me on my shoulders?" he asked the boy, who was staring back at him, fascinated.
"This is my Torah scroll," he cried.
Abe Foxman, the national director of the Anti-Defamation League -- the Avraham in our story -- remembers this as his first conscious feeling of a connection with Judaism and of being a Jew.

Goodness First

Sukkot is a holiday with a strong emphasis on Chinuch, properly educating the next generation of Jews. The Talmud tells a story that Shammai cut a hole above the bassinet of his infant grandson and placed kosher schach on the hole, so that the baby would be able to fulfill the mitzvah of dwelling in a Sukkah. Perhaps it’s due to the message of Sukkot: God’s ongoing protection- that we especially want to include children in the mitzvah of sukkah.

                Halacha also pays special attention to the need, and mechanics, of educating children in the mitzvah of the 4 Minim. In Sukkah 46b, Reb Zeira insists that parents not give a child their lulav and etrog on the first day sukkot. For a child can acquire a gift, but cannot legally give a gift. On the first day of Sukkot there is a special obligation for the lulav and Etrog to be Lachem, yours. If parents give their child their set, the child will acquire it but then be unable to gift it back to the parents. There is an entire category of 4 Minim called “chinuch sets”. (Rav Moshe Feinstein is adamant that such sets be at least nominally Kosher, for we should only be educating our children with items that are kosher to be used.) Perhaps this special emphasis on chinuch by the 4 minim is due to the fact that we wave them in all four directions, indicating that Hashem is everywhere- a crucial lesson for our children.

                Children learn what is important to their parents based on the praise that they receive. Rabbi Joseph Telushkin notes that today’s children most often receive the highest praise in one of four categories:

Academic/ intellectual achievement, Athletic abilities, Artistic attainment, or Physical appearance.

Everyone loves a compliment. But what about kids that don’t excel in any of the above? Usually the best compliment they will hear about themselves is that “S/he is a really GOOD kid.” This causes children to infer that being good is not a big deal. Rabbi Telushkin suggests that parents ask their children: What do you think I as your parent want you to be? Successful, good, smart or happy? (Many children do not pick Good)

                It’s fine to compliment for other traits as well. But Good needs to be at the top of the list.

Germany perpetrated the Holocaust not due to a lack of smart people, but a lack of good people.

Examples of being good are things that everyone can do: 1) speaking out against a bully 2) befriending a new kid at school 3) finding a lost wallet or phone and working hard to locate the owner 4) offering one’s seat to an older person 5) treating siblings decently 6) not cheating on a test.

Save our highest praise for individual, one-to-one acts of goodness and integrity- and children will derive their self-esteem more from their goodness than from anything else.

On Sukkot we celebrate being successful, being smart and being happy. Being Successful: Sukkot celebrates the harvest, when the farmer feels a sense of security and satisfaction due to his full silos and the success of his efforts. Being smart: for an integral aspect of Sukkot is knowledge. The Torah says that we dwell in sukkot for 7 days

“In order that your [ensuing] generations should know that I had the children of Israel live in booths.”

 

Being happy: for sukkot is called Zman Simchateinu, the time of our rejoicing.

On Sukkot we celebrate being successful, being knowledgeable and being happy. But we can never lose sight of the importance of being GOOD. Goodness must be celebrated above all of the rest.

Yom Kippur is Just the Beginning

Most machzorim translate Yom Kippur as the Day of Atonement. Rav Soloveitchik objected to the imprecision of this translation for a few reasons. First, in the Amidah that we will recite at Maariv we say: Vatiten Lanu Hashem Elokeinu B’Ahavah…..

“You, Hashem have given to us with love this day of Yom HaKippurim for forgiveness and pardon and atonement….”

If Kippurim was synonymous with atonement, then it would not make sense to define a word, kippurim, with the same word, kaparah.

Second, the Torah names holidays from the perspective of what we do on them, not what Hashem does or did. For example, Pesach is called Chag Hamatzot, not Chag Yetziat Mitzrayim, and the Torah refers to it as Shavuot, not Chag Matan Torah. Rosh Hashanah is referred to as Yom Hazikaron, a reference to the shofar, which is what we do on that day, and not Yom Hadin, which is what Hashem does on that day.

            To be consistent with the other holidays, the name Yom Hakippurim must reflect the idea that atonement does not come automatically from Hashem. Rather atonement must be attained through our efforts. Therefore Rav Soloveitchik suggested that the more literal and precise translation of Yom Hakippurim is the day on which we must perform specific actions in order to attain atonement. When translated more precisely it becomes clear that Yom Kippur is not about God bestowing upon us some status of atonement; rather today is about earning that selicha and kaparah- through our actions and our commitments. Our task on Yom Kippur is focused on Teshuva. The reason why the holiday’s name is in the plural, Kippurim, is because there are many different types of teshuva: complete teshuva and incomplete teshuva, thoughts of teshuva and acts of teshuva.

And Yom Kippur is not just the culmination of the Aseret Ymei Teshuva. It is also a beginning, a fresh start, the first day of the rest of our lives.

Rabbi Yosef Yitzchak Schneerson asked his father, the Rebbe Rashab, what to do after Yom Kippur. His father answered, “Now, we repent.” This reminds me of the story a person who attended a silent Quaker service. During the worship, he turned to an usher and asked, “When does the service begin?” The usher looked at him and said, “Sir, we believe that the real service begins when you leave the sanctuary and begin to live your real life again.”

Nechama Leibowitz once noted, “When I was a child, they used to tell us in school that we needed to improve our actions during the auspicious time of Aseret Yemei Teshuva, between Rosh Hashana and Yom Kippur. At home, my father would tell me that is true, however you also have to act just as good between Yom Kippur and Rosh Hashanah.

If we put in the work, and view Yom Kippur as just the beginning then we can be confident that we have done our part to bring about Kaparah and be ready to receive many blessings in the new year.

Thank Hashem. Then Ask for More

If we take a moment to look at the additions to our Amidah during Aseret Ymei Teshuva we will notice a progression. First we ask Hashem “Zochreinu L’Chaim”, Remember us for life.” Next (“Mi Kamocha”) we refer to Hashem as He “who remembers His creatures for life, in His mercy.” At the end of the Amida our requests become bolder: “Inscribe for a good life all the children of Your covenant.” Finally we ask for a lot: “In the book of life, blessing, peace and abundant maintenance, may we be remembered and inscribed before You…” The lesson of this progression is simple and profound: We thank Hashem for life. Life alone is a priceless gift deserving of our thanks to God. But during this time of year, when “the King is in the field” we don’t stop with the basics. We take advantage of the moment and ask for much more.

 Rav Yitzchak Tuvyah Weiss, who passed away last summer, would often tell the story that in his youth he lived in the town of Pesing that was about four kilometers away from Pressburg. When the Germans entered his city, the community leaders didn’t know how to deal with the Nazis. He didn’t know whether the community should listen to the Nazi's demands, or whether they should escape and seek to evade them. The head of the Jewish community sent the young Tuvyah Weiss to Pressburg, to get advice from the communal leader of Pressburg. In Pressburg he was told that the situation was very bleak. The leader in Pressburg also told young Tuvyah Weiss that the King of England sent a train to save one thousand Jewish children, and he received a thousand tickets to distribute. “I don’t know who to save, and who has precedence over whom, but since you’ve come here, take a ticket, and save yourself.” Reb Tuvyah went home, quickly packed his bags, said goodbye to his parents, and went to the transport.

Before long, he was in England with a thousand other children. The king wanted to see with his own eyes the thousand children the he saved. The children stood on both sides of the road, and the king drove between them. Rav Weiss recalls that standing next to him was a courageous boy. When the king’s chariot came near this boy jumped into the king’s chariot. The king’s servants wanted to send the boy away, but the king said that he wants to hear what the child has to say. The child thanked the king for saving so many children, "but it upsets me that the king's compassion isn't perfect, because I left behind my parents and family. How can I be happy with my salvation when I’m worried about the plight of my parents and family…” The king asked him for the boy’s parents’ details. Two weeks later, his parents and all his extended family were in England. Rav Weiss made the following observation: If the king was in his castle, this child wouldn’t be able to speak to the king. But now that the king is traveling he was able to come close to the king and plead for the lives of his parents. This is exactly what takes place on Rosh Hashanah. During Aseret Ymei Teshuva we have access to a special power of tefillah. On that day in England 999 children remained in their places; they didn’t take advantage of the king’s appearance. Only one child didn’t let this opportunity slip away. See how much he gained seizing the moment. Let us do the same this Yomim Noraim season.

Beware of the “If Only” Syndrome

During his lifetime, disciples of Rav Nachman of Breslov would be sure to be with their Rebbe for Rosh Hashanah. The Rebbe himself said in 1810 in front of of 100’s of Chasidim that “Rosh Hashana is my whole mission.” And “therefore no one should be missing.”

18 days later Reb Nachman passed away. But his disciples understood Reb Nachman’s preaching the importance of being together on Rosh Hashanah as a sign that they should continue the practice even after their Rebbe’s death. And so began a custom for Bresolver Chassidim to travel to their Rebbe’s gravesite in Uman for Rosh Hashanah. Over the next 150 years this custom was upheld by only a small number of the most ardent and committed Chasidim. For most disciples Uman for Rosh Hashanah was only a dream due to the danger, antagonism and uncertainty that comprised most of the 19^th and 20^th centuries for Jews in the Ukraine.

With the fall of Communism, that all changed. In 1989 over 1000 Chasidim were in Uman for Rosh Hashanah. That number doubled by the next year.

Ten years later the number of pilgrims to Uman reached 10,000. Five years later that number had doubled again. By now the pilgrims included not only devoted Breslov Chasidim but also Jews of diverse affiliations and nationalities, especially Israelis. At its height, before the war with Russia and COVID, there were close to 50,000 men making the pilgrimage to Uman for Rosh Hashanah.

Though the Chasid in me is intrigued by the phenomenon of Uman for Rosh Hashana, I tend to agree with those Rabbis who are opposed to the Rosh Hashanah pilgrimage. First, men with families belong home with their families on Yom Tov. Another issue I have with the trip to Uman is based on an idea that emerges from this morning’s Torah reading.

Moshe transmits to Bnei Yisrael the accessibility of Jewish life and meaning:

“It is not in the heavens, that you should say, 'Who among us can go up to the heavens and get it for us and impart it to us, that we may observe it?' Neither is it beyond the sea, that you should say, 'Who among us can cross to the other side of the sea and get it for us and impart it to us, that we may observe it?'" (Devarim 30:11-13).

Targum Yerushalmi adds a bit of commentary into the translation:

“The Torah is not in the heavens that you should say, 'If only we would have someone like Moshe the prophet who would ascend to the heavens and bring it to us and teach the laws, we would observe them.'

Neither is the Torah across the sea that you should say, 'If only we would have someone like Yonah the prophet who would descend to the depths of the ocean and bring it to us and teach the laws, we would observe them.”

A major impediment to change and growth is what I call the “if only” syndrome.

A person identifies the need for change or avenues for growth. But just when the plan begins to coalesce we begin to tell ourselves, “If only.” If only times were different or the situation was more conducive, this change would occur. If only leaders the likes of Moshe or Yona were available to teach and inspire us- then we could grow and change and improve.” If only I spend Rosh Hashanah in Uman- then I would be able to achieve my spiritual goals.”

A pilgrimage to Rav Nachman’s grave site for the New Year may be the right choice for a select few. But for most of us, instead of Uman Rosh Hashanah we need to focus on Po- Hayom, as mentioned at the beginning of the Parsha. Here and now we are blessed and equipped with the teachings and capacity to make resolutions. We must reject the “if only” syndrome and appreciate the potential that exists within us- Po Hayom, here and now.

Your Attitude Can Be a Blessing (or the Opposite)

 One of the lessons from Ki Tavo is that the blessings and curses as described in our Torah portion are self-imposed. God doesn’t bring about curses- we bring them onto ourselves. We know this to be true concerning the spiritual laws governing our existence: Our good deeds create goodness in this world and the opposite is true as well. We may not see it right away or fully understand how it works but it is a principle of faith.

 

 Not only our actions matter, but our attitudes also create blessings and curses

“Because you did not serve the Lord, your God, with happiness and with gladness of heart, when [you had an] abundance of everything.”

The Torah here provides us with two attitudes that can lead to self-imposed curses. First, a lack of “gladness of heart when you had an abundance”. Curses come about when we focus on the negative in our lives, without putting it into the context of all the blessings that surround us.

 

Second, the pasuk warns us against living a life without simcha. The Rambam writes about joy in his section on the Laws of Sukkot (described as the most joyous of holidays). The Rambam writes that when a person feels happy or inspired or ready to take a step in his/her growth, they should go for it. Don’t miss the opportunity. The Rambam continues in the next Halacha to warn us against hesitating in “taking the plunge” due to concerns about what other people might think or say about us. Maimonides brings the example of King David. During the rededication of the Aron, David leads the procession with great fanfare and intense dancing. His wife Michal rebuked King David for acting in such an enthusiastic manner; she thought it was unbecoming of the king’s stature. Our rabbis weigh in and say that Michal was wrong and King David was right. Once we research an issue, think deeply and make an action plan we should not worry about what others might think or say. Not taking the plunge due to what others might think can lead us on the slippery slope towards missing out on blessings, and even towards curses.

 

This reminds me of a saying, of unknown origins:

In our 20’s we worry a lot about what everyone else is saying about us and thinking about us.

In our 40’s we do not care what others think about us or say about us.

In our 60’s we realize that no one was thinking about us or speaking about us in the first place.

 

The sooner we realize this, the sooner we can embrace the simcha in our lives and do our part to bring about the blessings that are ready to come our way.

As we prepare for the New Year, let us resolve to avoid the pitfalls that can cause curses and prepare ourselves to be the receptacle necessary to receive all of the blessings that God has in store for us.

Resolving the Paradox of Power

 Why is it that many people in positions of power end up being accused of mistakes that cause them to lose those positions? Psychologists suggest an answer lies in what they call the paradox of power. The very traits that help leaders attain positions of power in the first place all but disappear once they rise to power. The good news is that Machiavelli was wrong. Nice guys (and gals) do not finish last. Studies have consistently shown that people give authority to those whom they genuinely like.  And the reverse has been shown as well: People that are not well-liked are usually never given a chance to become powerful.

The bad news shows up when these nice people actually attain power. Instead of being polite, honest and outgoing, they become impulsive reckless and rude. “It’s an incredibly consistent effect,” explained Dacher Keltner, a psychologist at UC Berkeley, “When you give people power, they basically start acting like fools.” Keltner compares the feeling of power to brain damage, noting that people with lots of authority tend to behave like neurological patients with a diminished capacity for empathy and decision making.

 Parshat Ki Teitzei addresses this paradox of power. Our Parsha contains many mitzvot that deal with situations in which there is an imbalance of power: debtor and lender, employee and employer, widows and orphans and those in a more secure socioeconomic status. How do we ensure that powerful people treat more vulnerable in the proper way, as the Torah requires?  Three ways:

One way is through transparency. The worst abuses of power can be prevented if people knew that they’re being monitored. When describing the laws associated with each of these imbalances of power, the Torah interjects Hashem into what seemingly is purely an issue between human beings. For instance when it comes to the obligation to treat the debtor with dignity, the Torah adds, “Ulecha Tihyeh Tzedaka Lifnei Hashem Elokecha”- “it will be an act of righteousness- before Hashem your God.” The Torah similarly includes mention of Hashem when it comes to the timely payment of employees and the treatment of widows and orphans (in the seventh aliyah). The Torah is reminding powerful people that God is always watching, and this realization should provide the transparency necessary to combat the paradox of power.

 A second way is to foster a sense of sympathy and identification with the other party. The Torah calls the debtor “Reyacha”, your fellow, your friend. Even if the two do not normally hang out in the same social circles, the lender must realize that lack of capital does not lower the debtor’s standing in the eyes of God, nor should it do so in the eyes of the lender.

The third strategy for avoiding the pitfalls of power is by addressing any delusions of grandeur. The Torah reminds us, “Vezacharta ki eved hayita B’Mitzrayim.” “Remember that you were a slave in Egypt.” This is not only a reminder of our shared humble beginnings, but also a reminder of our shared history and shared identity. The debtor and lender, the employer and employee, the widow and orphan we are all equal in our collective experience of the Exodus from Egypt, the moment that transformed us not only into a Nation but into a caring community.

We are in the midst of Elul, crunch time for High Holidays preparation. The same tactics utilized to avoid the paradox of power are those strategies that can empower us for the High Holidays: appreciate the transparency in our lives, reject any delusions of grandeur, and foster a heightened sense of sympathy. In this way Parshat Ki Teitzei can help us realize that power need not be a paradox. By following the Torah’s advice, it is not only plausible but probable that power can be harnessed as a force for good, benefitting ourselves and the world around us.

The King’s Two Torahs

 The 613^th and last mitzvah in the Torah is the commandment for each individual to write a Torah scroll. In Parshat Shoftim the Torah teaches that there is one person who is required to write a second Torah for himself. While we might have thought that a second Torah is appropriate for the Kohen Gadol as a spiritual leader or the Chief Justice of the Sanhedrin due to his legal expertise and leadership, we learn that it is the political leader, the king, who is required to write a second Torah.

Rav Kook explained who a Jewish king needs a second Torah. At Har Sinai the Jewish People accepted the Torah on two levels: personal and national. The Torah comes to refine and elevate a person and a nation. However, whereas most people are in general agreement as to what it means for an individual to be moral and ethical, it is much more difficult to find consensus on what does it mean for a nation to be moral and ethical. The king, as representative of the nation, writes a second Torah to demonstrate his (and our) commitment to utilize Torah values to guide us on a national level. In the Diaspora this means that Jewish communities must seek ways to live our Jewish values in how we operate.

In Israel this challenge is greater, for the Jewish State is supposed to be governed by Jewish values. The Jewish People went almost 2,000 years without the opportunity to apply Jewish values to the bureaucracy and institutions of the state, such as the legislature and judiciary. Without a lived tradition of how to do this, the State of Israel has been a blessed and miraculous experiment in how to apply Jewish values to nation building while navigating all of the challenges such as: partisanship and differences of opinion, protecting minority rights, national defense, building and economy, the list goes on and on. One example of this challenge is the debate in Israel today regarding judicial reform. While it is easy in a hyper-partisan climate to simplify a debate and caricaturize the opposing views, the reality is more complex and more nuanced.

Rav Kook cautioned regarding the moral and spiritual dangers inherent in political life:

“We must not allow the tendency toward factionalism, which threatens most strongly at the inception of a political movement, to deter us from seeking justice and truth, from loving all of humanity, both the collective and the individual, from love for the Jewish people, and from the holy obligations that are unique to Israel. We are commanded not only to be holy individuals, but also, and especially, to be ‘a kingdom of priests and a holy nation.”

The Blessing that Emerges through Listening

Our Parsha is named Re’eh which means to see. Yet the focus of Moshe’s message to the people at that time- and to us today- in this week’s Torah reading is the importance of listening:

The blessing, that you will listen to the commandments of the Lord your God, which I command you today; and the curse, if you will not listen to the commandments of the Lord your God, but turn away from the way I command you this day, to follow other gods, which you did not know.

Just as it is important to listen to God, it is also important to listen to other human beings, who were created B’TZelem Elokim, in the Divine image. Humans who are endowed with the most sophisticated capacity for speech are called upon to be the most intensive listeners. Listening to others is a validation of their existence. It can also be a tacit admission of humility; that I don’t know everything and that someone else may be able to teach me something, if only I listen. Our task is to listen to others, especially to those with whom we disagree and especially to the smaller weaker voices of those who are often marginalized.

A famous Jewish saying teaches that God endowed us with two ears and one mouth so that we would listen more than we would speak.  High school and colleges have classes in public speaking, but perhaps we need more focus on developing our listening skills.

The pesukim I quoted earlier introduce us to the choice we have between blessing and curse. What is unusual is that nowhere in this Parsha does Moshe actually describe for us what the blessings or the curses will look like? How will we be blessed? How will we experience the curses?

The Torah is teaching us that the origins of Bracha is Asher Tishme’u; blessing comes to those who are willing to listen to others. While the road towards curses begins Im Lo Tishme’u: when we are unwilling to listen to other, whether it be God and other people.

One of the first skills taught in Social Work graduate schools is how to listen to others. Sometimes people want you to solve their problems. Sometimes people want you to give them advice. Sometimes people just want to be heard, they want to be validated. Oftentimes just listening to someone with one’s full attention and compassion helps the person; either by helping them figure out the solution or at least feel better that someone else cares about them.

I like to listen more than I like to speak. I know that may be hard to believe, considering the amount of public speaking required in my job. But I strive to be a good listener, and I enjoy the positive outcomes that emerge when people really listen to one another. Though my job can be busy, I always have time in my week to meet with community members and hear about whatever it is you would like to speak about. To schedule a time to meet, I can be reached through Chana at the shul office or by email.

This Shabbat is Shabbat Mevorchim Elul. Elul is a month for preparation, for reflection and for resolutions. One of the famous teachings on the name of the month is that Elul is an acronym for Ani L’Dodi V’Dodi Li (“I am for my beloved, and my beloved is for me”). The only way we can succeed in creating and sustaining loving relationships, whether that be with Hashem or others, is if we are willing to do the hard, yet rewarding, work of listen.

Sticking Together is Our Sure Bet

Five years ago I met with Amir Tibone, who was a correspondent for Haaretz newspaper at that time stationed in Washington DC.  Amir was working on a story for the Haaretz Hebrew Edition about the 2018 midterm elections. He had been a speaker for AIPAC, and AIPAC’s Florida office gave him my name. In our conversation we agreed that synagogues- especially diverse Modern Orthodox synagogues like ours – are one of the last places that people congregate with others with whom they strongly disagree on issues,  especially political issues.  We put aside our differences at shul because of the common values that we hold dear, including kehilla. Tzibur, Beit Knesset.

Amir told me how one time he and his wife were invited by neighbors for dinner. They were talking about Israeli politics and he casually mentioned that he has friends on the other end of the political spectrum. His American neighbors had a hard time believing that people with differing opinions on important issues could be friends.

I suggested that this is the case in Israel because you can still finds Israelis with an array of diverse positions: like those who are conservative when it comes to Israeli security but liberal when it comes to social issues.

Amir agreed, but he also suggested that it goes back to Israel’s mandatory army service. In Israel, you might disagree strongly with a position and with a politician’s platform. And just when you’re about to flip your lid you remember your friend from the army, with whom you served side by side. You remember that your friend holds those views with which you firmly disagree. But you can no longer disparage those views because you know someone, a good guy/ gal, who subscribes to the same view. You are no more convinced of that opposing view. But once you remember your army buddy you can no longer completely disregard those views.

While it may still hold true to some extent, I fear that Israeli partisanship has dramatically increased in the ensuing years. Politics have become increasingly polarizing. People can live their whole lives in an echo chamber, never hearing from people with differing views and never even spending time with people with whom they disagree. In this environment it’s easy to demonize positions because they are not associated with actual human beings. When we get to know people on a personal level we often realize that they are not so different than we are. We might realize that they are thoughtful people. They want what’s best; it’s just that their ideal outcomes look different than ours.

Only when we stick together are we in a position to know each other well enough to listen, even when we disagree. The Baal HaTurim teaches that this lesson is hinted at in this morning’s Parsha: (10:22)

בְּשִׁבְעִ֣ים נֶ֔פֶשׁ יָֽרְד֥וּ אֲבֹתֶ֖יךָ מִצְרָ֑יְמָה וְעַתָּ֗ה שָֽׂמְךָ֙ יְהֹוָ֣ה אֱלֹהֶ֔יךָ כְּכֽוֹכְבֵ֥י הַשָּׁמַ֖יִם לָרֹֽב:

“With seventy souls, Your forefathers descended to Egypt, and now the Lord, your God, has made you as the stars of heaven in abundance.”

In his careful reading of the pasuk, the Baal HaTurim notes that that this Pasuk begins and ends with the letter Bet

. הפסוק מתחיל ומסיים בבי"ת, לומר שיעקב הזהירם שידבקו איש בביתו ולא יתערבו במצרים, ולכך נקראו בית יעקב

Yaakov taught the lesson and Moshe is reinforcing it. For the Jews to survive through it all- we need to stay close to our Bet/ Bayit (home): we need to stick together. Even when we disagree.

One of the features of Egyptian slavery was that it sowed discord among the Jews. Oppression has that effect. Moshe reminds Bnai Yisrael that the only way they made it through Egypt- the only way that they can survive exile and oppression- is if they stick to their Bayit, and stick together.

It’s no coincidence that this lesson is learned from a pasuk that describes Jews as stars. We are supposed to be a light onto the nations. The only way we can effectively do so is when stick together, despite our differences. It has been the secret sauce of the Jewish People, Beit Yaakov, and we must not forget this secret sauce today in our own times and in our own Beit Knesset.

Mighty in Impact, Not in Numbers

Rabbi Berel Wein tells a story that he and his wife once took a trip to Norway to tour the fjords. The tour was not a kosher one, but there happened to be a sizable contingent of Israelis who made Rabbi Wein their resident Rabbi (Rabbi Wein notes that in Israel many of those same Israelis would probably have had nothing to do with any rabbi). In addition to the Weins and the Israelis there was a group Americans from a retirement community near San Diego. At one of the rest stops one of the members of this (non Jewish) group turned to Rabbi Wein and said, “Rabbi, we do not mean to annoy you, but could you please tell us how many Jews there are in the United States of America?” As Rabbi Wein contemplated how to answer the question, the man continued, “There must be fifty or sixty million, right?” Concluding the story Rabbi Wein writes:

For the first time I had an insight as to how many non-Jews living in the United States perceive the presence in culture, entertainment, politics, finance, sports and every facet of American life. They cannot believe that all of this constant noise comes from barely four or five million Jews in a country of 350 million people. So I merely deflected the question, saying that I did not know any exact figures but that we are a distinct minority. I added that we appreciate the opportunities that the United States had granted the Jews……

In Parshat Vaetchanan, Moshe reminds Bnai Yisrael of their special status (7:6-7):

 “For you are a holy people to Hashem; He has chosen you to be for Him a treasured nation above all the peoples on the face of the Earth.”

לֹ֣א מֵֽרֻבְּכֶ֞ם מִכָּל־הָֽעַמִּ֗ים חָשַׁ֧ק ה בָּכֶ֖ם וַיִּבְחַ֣ר בָּכֶ֑ם כִּֽי־אַתֶּ֥ם הַמְעַ֖ט מִכָּל־הָֽעַמִּֽים

Not because you are the most numerous nation did Hashem choose you, for you are the fewest of all the nations.

Rabbi Jonathan Sacks explains that Hashem’s choice of a nation few in number is God’s way of teaching the lesson that one need not be numerous in order to be great. Nations are not judged by their size but by their contributions to civilization. Our focus should not be on numbers but the power and potential impact that each individual possesses to transform the world for the better.

Social psychologist Serge Moscovici studied a phenomenon that he called “minority influence.” Generally the majority influences minorities. But sometimes the reverse happens. For instance, the suffragette movement in early 20th century America is an example of minority influence ultimately leading to the right to vote for women. After conducting numerous studies Moscovici identified a number of factors that led to successful minority influence. Among those factors were:

1.            Consistency: the opinion being expressed by the minority must remain consistent

2.            Confidence in the correctness of the ideas being presented by the minority

3.            The minority must appear to remain unbiased, ie a willingness to hear out the other side of the argument

4.            Resisting social pressure to change

The Jewish People live this lesson and remind the world of the potential of minority influence. This is a lesson that we must never forget: as a nation and as individuals.

Rabbi Moshe Amiel notes that in kosher laws we have a concept of Bitul B’rov- that if a small amount of non-kosher falls into a much larger pot of kosher food- the non-kosher may be nullified, and we say majority rules. So, why in fact do we not assume that the majority of public opinion, the majority world religion, the majority ethos of morality, in fact rules? Rav Amiel answered that in Halacha we also have the concept of a davar hamaamid. If an ingredient has a presence in the finished dish, even if it is only a minute amount and by right should be nullified- It cannot be nullified and the entire dish continues to be impacted by that ingredient. Jews have always been a minority. Jewish values are powerful and is meant to be detected across all of humanity. Jews are supposed to be mighty in impact, not in numbers.