Talking to a Rock: Not as Bad as it Sounds

Our Parsha contains the mysterious events that transpired at Mei Meriva. After Miriam dies, the people are complaining again- this time because there is no water. Hashem tells Moshe to take the staff – and speak to the rock. Instead Moshe hits the rock, and water miraculously flows forth. While the people are happy- Hashem is angry; angry because Moshe did not do as he was told (and Aharon is faulted too- for not stopping Moshe?) Moshe and Aharon are punished harshly- they are denied entry into the Promised Land. One of the mysteries surrounding this episode is the initial Divine command: What’s the deal with talking to a rock? Of all possible manners to miraculously provide water at this juncture, why does God decide that it should come about as a result of speaking to a stone?

Rabbi Moshe Feinstein explained that this Divine command was meant to convey an important lesson for us all: Sometimes it feels like we’re talking to a rock. That our message is falling on deaf ears. Nonetheless we should appreciate the value in speaking up in these situations, for even when we speak to a rock water may flow forth- ie there may be some beneficial outcome. I’d like to share with you for your consideration three potential beneficial outcomes, even when we’re talking to a rock.

First, even if we think we are talking to a rock, our message may sink in and its impact will become visible over time. Thursday, 28 of Sivan, marked the (23^rd) yahrtzeit of Rav Yisroel Zev Gustman, a remarkable Torah personality, worthy of our attention and study. One of the more popular stories about Rav Gustman is how he and Rav Chaim Ozer Grodzinksy (the famed Dayan of Vilna) once went for a walk together to discuss Torah topics. Much to Rav Gustman's surprise, Rav Chaim Ozer was more interested in discussing nature. As they continued to walk through the fields, Rav Chaim Ozer would point to different plants, seemingly arbitrarily, and clarify which were poisonous and which were healthy. Rav Gustman was confused, and did not understand the lesson being taught. Soon thereafter, the horrors of the Holocaust forced Rav Gustman to spend two years in hiding, and managed to survive based on his Rebbi's insights on vegetation, that seemed so arbitrary at the time. Even when we talk to a seeming rock, the message may seep in and find expression later on.

Second, even when we’re talking to a rock, our words may be heard by others. For instance, when a teacher tells her class that during summer vacation they should all read 30 minutes per day, she knows that most of the class will not do so. For some of the students, this message is like talking to a rock. But others will listen and do the readings. Still others will hear their teacher stress the importance of reading and decide that they will partially fulfill the suggestion. And something is better than nothing. If nothing is said then nothing will be done. If something is said then at least it’s out there for people to consider. This is true concerning political advocacy, especially today regarding our efforts to bring attention to the plight of the kidnapped Israeli boys. The same is true of parents talking to their children- and rabbis talking to their communities. Issues must be raised and concerns must be expressed- even if to some it seems to be an exercise in speaking to a stone.

And lastly, even when we’re talking to a rock, our words can still strengthen our own resolve. A UCLA psychology study suggests that labeling one’s emotions at the precise moment one is confronting a fear, can make you less afraid and less anxious. 88 people who have a fear of spiders were divided into 4 groups and exposed to spiders – with the following instructions

One group was told to express their feelings of anxiety and fear before touching the spider.

A second group was told to use words that helped to make the situation less threatening, such as “this little spider can’t harm me”- the typical approach used for de-sensitization.

A third group was told to say something irrelevant to the spider situation and the fourth group was instructed to say nothing. The group that had the most significant decrease in their fear of spiders was the group that put into the words what it was they were feeling- to say it as they felt it, not as they wished they would see things.

Hashem told Moshe to speak to the rock and it will flow forth water. From this story we learn that Hashem challenges us to speak up, even if it feels like all we’re talking to a rock. That rock may in fact be listening with the impact only visible in the future. And even if the rock cannot hear us now, others might hear us, and we need to hear ourselves. If we see the power of speaking up, even to a rock, then Hashem will hear our voice and bless our efforts.

 

Lessons from the Ball Park

It’s wonderful to have our son Yaakov home from Israel. In honor of his presence and in honor of Parshat Korach, I’d like to share with you an excerpt of a Dvar Torah that I wrote back in 2007.

My son was three and a half years old when the Brotherhood organized a trip to a Marlins game. I was excited at the prospect of taking my firstborn son to see America’s past time for his very first time. My expectations were high and I hoped that the memories of this evening would be priceless.

Everything was going well. We parked at Dolphin Stadium. I give Yaakov his ticket to hold. He handed it to the lady at the entrance gate. Upon reaching the gate we found out that there was a special promotion: The first 10,000 fans would receive a Marlins Replica 1997 Championship Ring. Luckily we got our rings before supplies ran out, and I thought to myself “this is the beginning of a great evening.” I started to plan out our schedule. We had an hour before Mincha. Should we go straight to our seats, or look around for the perfect souvenir- after all there’s no way Yaakov would come home from his first baseball game without a souvenir. I decided to first go to our seats.

And then it happened. My wonderful son whom I love dearly heard the loud voices coming from the PA system coupled with the noise from the largest High-definition jumbo-tron in America, and refused to enter the stadium. The more I cajoled and bribed him to enter the stadium, the more adamant he became not to do so. My next response was to get angry. That of course just made things a lot worse. As my son was crying that he wanted to go home, after being at Dolphin Stadium for no more than 12 minutes- I had an epiphany:  This must be how Korach felt.

Korach had a lot going for him. He had a wife and children. According to the Talmud Korach was a very wealthy man. With so much in his favor, why did Korach feel the need for more? Why did he pick a fight with Moshe, and in effect with G-d, leading to disastrous consequences for himself and those around him?

The story of Korach is full of ambiguity. For example, what was Korach’s actual complaint?

Midrash Tanchuma writes that Korach’s criticism was directed towards Aharon and his argument was as follows: “If you, Moshe, are the king of Israel, then you should not have selected your brother Aharon as the High Priest.”

However, in providing background to Korach’s rebellion, the Midrash gives a different cause for Korach’s rebellion:

Midrash Tanchuma explains that Kehat, Korach’s grandfather, had four sons: Amram, Yitzhar, Chetzron and Uzziel. Kehat’s firstborn son was Amram, who was the father of Moshe and Aharon. As firstborn, Amram was entitled to a double portion of land. As the tribe of Levi would not inherit land in Israel, it therefore made sense to Korach that Amram should be bestowed with two positions of rank: namely, kingship, a role which was filled by Moshe, and the High Priesthood, filled by Aharon. However, there was another position of authority that had to be assigned, the prince of the Kehatite family. Korach expected to be appointed to this position. He was the son of Kehat’s second oldest son, Yitzhar. Korach was therefore shocked and thrown for a loop when Moshe appointed his cousin Eltzafan considering the fact that Eltzfan’s father, Uzziel, was the youngest of Kehat’s four children.

We can understand Korach’s expectations. But what happened when his expectations were not met? What happened when Korach was passed over and the position was given to his younger cousin? What happens when what we thought would happen or should happen does not actually pan out? What happens when your son wants to leave his first baseball game before your first bite of kosher hot dog?

Here is where Korach errs. In such a situation, disappointment is to be expected. Even a little bit of jealousy, some frustration and anger, though not good things, could have been expected and respected. But the Midrash describes Korach’s reaction. Korach said: “I will therefore rebel against Moshe and nullify his words.”

Some commentators see in the story of Korach a lesson in the power and danger of jealousy. I see within the story of Korach a failure to prepare for alternate outcomes. Even with everything that he had, Korach was unable to deal with the disappointment when his expectations were not met.

The story of Korach teaches us the need to be flexible. We must be able to handle unmet expectations in a productive and healthy manner.

That night  16 years agoat Yaakov’s first baseball game, my knee-jerk reaction was to refuse to admit that my expectations were going to go unmet. One option would have been to go to our seats and watch the game, even if doing so would have meant lots of kicking and screaming. Another option was to allow my sense of disappointment to express itself as anger. In that case, I would have immediately left the stadium, and dropped Yaakov off at home, vowing to never take him anywhere ever again.

Instead I took a deep breath (I need to do that more often), thought about Korach’s mistake and resigned myself to the fact that tonight’s outing would not be as I envisioned. I would let go of my expectations and enjoy the moment; I would defer to what my son wanted to do. So for two hours, we wandered the recesses of Dolphin Stadium; going everywhere except the inside of the actual stadium. We walked up and down the ramp. We walked back and forth from Section 125 to 145. We sat on the benches, ate dinner, and watched on the screens the game that was taking place inside the park.

At the end of the evening, one of my original expectations was met: Yaakov left with a souvenir. As for me- I left with a better appreciation for Korach’s error. I left with an understanding how important it is to effectively handle disappointment. I left with the memory of an evening with my son at the ballpark that was indeed priceless.

Lend Your Voice- Don’t Give it Away

In Parshat Shelach we read about the episode of the spies. Upon hearing the evil report from most of the spies, the Torah tells us the reaction of the nation:

Vatisa kol Ha’eidah Vayitnu et Kolam, vatyivku ha’am balayla hahu” (14:1)

“The entire assembly raised up and issued their voice, the people wept that night”

The bolded words above seem strange. What does it mean that the people literally “gave their voice”, and not just “raised their voice”?

Perhaps the Torah is alluding to one of the major mistakes perpetrated by the Jewish People in regards to the Meraglim affair. Instead of maintaining their own judgment, they “gave their voice” to the spies with the evil report. They chose not to think independently, but rather to blindly follow what the gang was saying.

We must be careful to never blindly give our voices to others. Groupthink ignores each person’s unique perspective and eliminates nuances among people’s opinions. We protect keep our voices so that our voices reflect who we truly are and what we actually believe.  Our voice is too precious and too powerful to simply hand over to someone else. We can lend our voices to others and on behalf of others, and we can amplify our voice by joining together with others on a common cause. However the story of the meraglim teaches us to be very wary about giving our voices over wholesale to someone else. 

Our Words Create Our Reality

In Parshat Behaalotecha we read how Miriam is punished after speaking about her brother Moshe. Later in the Torah (Ki Teitzei 24:9) we are commanded to always remember what Miriam. This is one of the Shesh Zechirot, 6 events that we are supposed to remember on an ongoing bases. The other five events are: Exodus from Egyot, Matan Torah, Amalek’s attack, the golden calf, and Shabbat. Why is this sin of Miriam’s worthy of remembering?

The story of Miriam is critical to remember daily because it reminds us of our power of speech. We are aware of the evils and dangers of lashon hara, even if we do not apply those lessons to our lives often enough. But the story of Miriam highlights a lesser appreciated power/ peril of our speech:

How we talk about someone/ something will impact how we relate to them (even if that person never finds out). The Torah’s concern about what Miriam said was really a concern about how her words would impact how she (and possibly the rest of Bnei Yisrael) would relate to Moshe.

The sin of Miriam is her challenge to Moshe’s level of prophecy. Whatever the complaint was, part of it was that Miriam equated Moshe to all other prophets, herself included. A principle of our faith is that Moshe is singularly unique in his level of prophecy. This must be the case- otherwise there is the possibility of a future prophet abrogating the Torah, by claiming that he is more qualified than Moshe. Now can we fathom that Miriam meant to hurt Moshe? Of course not- this is his older sister, who risked her life to save Moshe when he was a baby. Nevertheless, how she talked about him impacted how she related to Moshe- the real concern.

How we speak also has a profound impact on those whom we influence: peers, friends, children. The story of Miriam concludes Parshat Behaalotcha. Parshat Shelach begins with the sin of the spies. Rashi quotes the Midrash that the juxtaposition comes to teach that the spies did not learn from the sin of Miriam. I think one can go a step further and suggest that the juxtaposition teaches us that the spies, leaders of the people, learned from the speech of Miriam. They did not hesitate to speak disparagingly against the Land of Israel because their role model Miriam did not hesitate to speak disparagingly against the Prophet of Israel.

Let me end with a poem on this topic of the power of our speech, author unknown:

What are you saying; are your words good or bad,

Positive or negative, happy or sad?

The words of your mouth lead to failure or success.

Do you ever wonder how you got into that mess

You are in charge of the words that you speak.

Will you be strong, or will you be weak?

Do you speak words of sickness, or words of health?

Do you speak of poverty, or are your words of wealth?

What you say each day is what comes to pass in your life.

Are your days full of peace, or are they full of strife?

Your life will reflect the words that you say.

Speak positive, uplifting words and life will manifest that way.

Speak negative, depressing, 'Oh, poor me' kind of things...

Then the road to failure is what these words will bring.

It's your choice; it's up to you.

What are you saying; what will you do?

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A Nazir Sipping Wine?

On Tuesday Rav Gershon Edelstein, Rosh Yeshiva of the Ponovezh Yeshiva in Bnei Brak, died at age 100. Referred to as the Gadol Hador within charedi circles, Rav Edelstein was one of the first students when the Ponovezh yeshiva opened in Israel- and he never left. On Tuesday morning he awoke early to pray and prepare his shiur, even writing notes for the shiur. At this point he passed away suddenly, the page of notes still next to his bed as testimony to his determination to study until the last minute. In a remarkable picture from the ICU in Maayanei Hayeshua taken just hours before Rabbi Gershon Edelstein’s passing, the Rabbi can be seen doing what he had done for 75 years daily: giving his shiur on the Gemara to his devoted students. Despite all the tubes and wires surrounding him, the rabbi, fully attired and wearing a tie as befits the honor of the Torah, appears unperturbed and continues the schedule of study he has maintained for eight decades.

Rav Edelstein encouraged schools and teachers to educate each child according to his/her needs and abilities. Rav Edelstein directed his followers to abide by the restrictions imposed during the CoVID pandemic, and he told people to get vaccinated. Current Member of Knesset Benny Gantz was Israel’s Defense Minister during much of the CoVID pandemic. After Rav Edelstein’s passing he tweeted, “I will never forget his call to his believers: ‘Reading the Torah in public — will be a sin. For someone who prayed in public his whole life, this statement to his many believers was an extraordinary magnanimity that saved many lives. In this way, he revealed himself not only as great in Torah, but also as a lover of people.” In some ways Rav Edelstein was viewed as a moderate compared to some of his colleagues and predecessors. When referring to non-observant Jews, Rav Edelstein moved away from calling them “wicked”, and he acknowledged positive attributes denonstrated by secular Israelis. For instances, he said regarding secular Israelis, “If they give their souls to save others out of love for others, they have a place in the World to Come….” The ruling is also viewed by some as having opened the door to service in the army for Chareidi soldiers.

Rav Edelstein is a shining example of the idea that a life spent learning Torah and internalizing Torah values is synonymous with a life of sensitivity, responsibility, and concern for others. A Torah persona is expressed not just in the Beit Midrash, but also, and especially, outside of our formal study. In Parshat Nasso we read about the Nazir, a person who commits to a more ascetic life for a period of time. When that period ends the Nazir undergoes a process that involved cutting his/her hair and offering sacrifices. Then the Torah says, (Bamidbar 6:20) “Afterwards, The Nazirite may drink wine.” On one level, this verse makes no sense. If the person is drinking wine, then they are no longer a Nazir. The Torah is telling us that a successful Nazir is one that is impacted by the experience, even after it is over and the Nazir is once again drinking wine. We should always be on the lookout for enriching and uplifting experiences. But we must also think about how those experiences will continue to uplift and inspire us once they are over.