Life is an Allegory

The Rama (OC 490:9) writes that it is customary to recite Shir Hashirim on Shabbat Chol Hamoed Pesach. The Magen Avraham explains the custom based on the fact that the Exodus is alluded to in Shir Hashirim (1:9): “At the gathering of the steeds of Pharaoh's chariots have I silenced you, my beloved.” This appears to be a reference to the Jewish People’s silence as they reached the Red Sea, which we read about and commemorate on the 7^th Day of Pesach. The Sefas Emes suggests a different approach. He notes that according to Rashi and other commentators, the entire book is an allegory that refers to the relationship between Hashem and Bnei Yisrael throughout history. Sefas Emes suggests that all of life is on some level an allegory, and the interpretation of our lives (like Shir Hashirim) can only be fully understood in the context of God’s existence and our mandate to serve Him. Too often we get caught up in the literalness of our lives. We focus on what is in front of us and get bogged down in the mundane and inconsequential; instead of seeing past the obvious to focus on what is really important and of consequence. The story of the Exodus teaches us that all of the characters, especially Pharaoh, were mere actors in a drama produced and directed by Hashem. The same is true of our lives, though perhaps our scripts are less dramatic. Shir Hashirim teaches us that there are lessons to be learned from every experience. Shen we are confronted with challenges, we are not supposed to only solve the problem. It is legitimate, even encouraged, to view that challenges, that problem, that experience, as an allegory and a teachable moment. Figuring out what we are supposed to be learning from these experiences is not an exact science. But thinking in these terms, ie that there is more to grapple with and to learn from our experiences beyond the surface level, is one of the great lessons of Shir Hashirim.

How to Become Enriched Through the Pesach Seder

At the end of Avadim Hayinu we say וְכָל הַמַּרְבֶּה לְסַפֵּר בִּיצִיאַת מִצְרַיִם הֲרֵי זֶה מְשֻׁבָּח. This is generally translated as “Whoever expands upon the telling of the story of the Exodus (tonight) is considered praiseworthy.” The Alexander Rebbe suggested that we can translate this phrase in another way: “Whoever focuses his/her attention on appreciating the miracles of the Exodus and embellishes their praise and gratitude to Hashem for Yetziat Mitzrayim- such a person is not only praiseworthy but will become enriched as a result. Living lives of gratitude is enriching. On Seder night we exercise our gratitude muscles in order to celebrate Pesach but also as practice for the rest of the year. A certain Jew from Bnei Brak recalled sitting at the Seder table of the Alexander Rebbe. Before reciting Kiddush the Rebbe exclaimed, “A Jew that does not believe that on this night he climbs from the lowest depths to the highest heights – he is the Rasha referred to in the Haggadah!” We climb those Seder heights through developing our sense of gratitude – to Hashem and to others. We do so even when it’s not so easy. Reb Elimelech Biderman tells a story that one year Rav Zalman Brizel was about to begin his Seder, when one of his grandchildren, who was playing, accidentally tugged at the tablecloth causing the matzahs to fall on the floor where they cracked. Each whole matzah was very precious to Rav Brizel, but he did not react to the accident. Instead, he smiled broadly, raised his eyes heavenward and proclaimed, “Ribbono Shel Olam, I thank You for my sweet grandchildren!”  This Pesach, let’s not cry over broken matzahs. There is much for the Jewish People to pray for this year, perhaps more so than in years past. May our gratitude serve as the merit by which all of our prayers are answered.

The Mindset Behind Lashon Hara

Parshat Tazria teaches the laws of diagnosing the spiritual affliction of Tzara’at. Our Rabbis taught that Biblical Tzara’at would occur at times as punishment for the sin of Lashon Hara. The first instance of destructive speech in the Torah goes all the way back to Genesis. In trying to convince Chava to eat from the Tree of Knowledge, the snake told her that God was afraid that if humans ate from the tree, then they would become rivals to God Himself, and nobody likes a rival. If we take a step back we begin to realize how preposterous this argument really is. Hashem created the world to bestow kindness onto mankind. At first Adam did not have to work. The angels provided them with whatever they needed. They could spend all of their time connecting with and enjoying their closeness to God. Yet the snake walks (perhaps literally) into this scene and sees the negative. The cause of this first Lashon Hara, and every subsequent infraction, is viewing life through a jaundiced eye. Lashon Hara always entails viewing a situation and focusing on the negative aspect. Lashon Hara most directly damages the person who speaks it because the speaker of Lashon Hara corrupts him/herself into a negative personality. Habitual negativity infects everyone around the speaker as well. People who radiate such negativity find it difficult to be in satisfying relationships with spouses, children, family or friends because they are always harping on the problems. And those who are committed to maintaining their positive outlook will ultimately distance themselves from those who exhibit such negativity. Ultimately people who are negative towards other people will sour on Hashem too. Instead of seeing the blessings in their life, the Baal Lashon Harah will focus on the things that Hashem does that they perceive as bad, instead of all of the blessings that Hashem bestows.

Rabbi ISser Zalman Meltzer was sitting in his sukkah one year on Chol Hamoed Sukkot. He asked Rabbi Dovid Finkel, who was visiting him, to bring him a pen and a piece of paper. Rabbi Finkle was surprised at the request as Rav Meltzer was known to be stringent not to write on Chol Hamoed. Sensing the hesitancy Rav Meltzer explained that it was urgent for him to have a pen and paper- a matter of Pikuach Nefesh (saving a life). Upon receiving the pen and paper Rav Meltzer wrote a pasuk from Mishlei (4:25):

עֵינֶיךָ לְנֹ֣כַח יַבִּ֑יטוּ וְ֜עַפְעַפֶּ֗יךָ יַיְשִׁ֥רוּ נֶגְדֶּֽךָ:: Let your eyes look forward, and let your eyelids look straight ahead of you. Rav Meltzer explained that over Chol Hamoed hundreds of Jews would come to visit him, and not all of them would be great Torah scholars or interesting conversationalists. Some would be unbalanced people, and other would have faults and flaws of varying degrees. The Netziv explained this verse in Mishlei as teaching us that if you look at someone and first notice a fault, turn your eye inward and look at yourself instead. Even though it sometimes seems that speaking Lashon Hara can be satisfying and enjoyable, the truth is that it is exactly the opposite. Speaking Lashon Hara corrodes our viewpoint, corrodes our relationships, and ultimately corrodes our soul. Avoiding Lashon Hara creates space for us to appreciate the blessings that we have. Avoiding Lashon Hara will make us happier people, allowing us to develop our positive dispositions and to strengthen our relationship with others and with Hashem.

Humble Hounds and Boardroom Lions

In a New York Times column, David Brooks suggested that there are two models of leadership: boardroom lions and humble hounds.

Boardroom lions are super confident, forceful and charismatic. They tend to be mavericks, always calling for serious and systemic change. These characteristics can be quite useful for leaders- whether in business or politics, or even one’s personal life. Yet research shows that these types of leaders can also be risky. Their confidence coupled with a propensity towards change can create achievements that are either fabulously successful or dismally miss their mark.

Brooks contrasts the boardroom lion with what he terms the humble hound model of leadership. Humble hounds are less interested in their achievements and more interested in looking ahead for any weaknesses and areas of potential improvement. They are more likely to make calculated, less-sweeping changes and only after consultation with others. They depend more on team efforts, and are not interested in highlighting personal achievement. Jim Collins, author of the book How the Mighty Fall sums up the character of humble hounds as, “extreme personal humility with intense professional will.”

In Parshat Shemini, Moshe said to Aharon: Kerav El Hamizbeiach ``Come close to the Altar to perform your sacrificial service.” The Midrash picks up on the word “Come near” and notes Aharon’s hesitance. He was ashamed to take on his role as Kohen due to his involvement with the Golden Calf. Only after being encouraged by Moshe does Aharon take up his priestly place.

Moshe and Aharon are prime examples of the humble hound school of leadership. By the Torah’s own account, Moshe was the most humble of all men. In Parshat Shemini he demonstrates this humility by deferring to Aharon to take over in the Mishkan. When his words go unheeded, he is willing to respectfully listen to his brother explain his logic. And when Aharon’s logic is convincing, not only is Moshe willing to admit his mistake but “Vayitav B’einav- he is willing to do so happily, without any hard feelings whatsoever. (In this week’s Parsha we also see Aharon’s humility up close. He is willing to face the consequences of his involvement in the Golden Calf episode. This is besides that fact that his entire life Aharon was willing to serve a secondary role to his younger brother Moshe.)

Whereas Moshe and Aharon are models of humble hound leadership, Nadav and Avihu were boardroom lions. They were intent on systemic change. According to rabbinic tradition, Nadav and Avihu would talk amongst themselves and ask concerning Moshe and Aharon, “When will these old men pass on so that we will become the new leaders of the nation?” Their fatal flaw was their arrogance. Rashi quotes the opinion that their sin was “Shehoru Halacha Bifnei Moshe Raban.” They did not show Moshe the deference that he deserved. Perhaps the clearest example of their arrogance emerges from the opinion in the Midrash that Nadav and Avihu never married. According to Midrash Rabba:

“They were conceited, many women awaited them eagerly (to marry them) but what did they say? ‘Our uncle is King, our other uncle is a head of a tribe, our father is High Priest, we are his two assistants. What woman is worthy of us?’”

The story of Nadav and Avihu reminds us of the challenges inherent in leadership and the dangers of arrogance. If Moshe and Aharon were willing to reassess and reevaluate their actions then all of us should be willing to do so, as individuals and as a community.

In Tribute to My Senator

Growing up in Connecticut in the 1980’s I remember the buzz surrounding our State’s Attorney general, Joe Lieberman. Joe was born and raised in Stamford, CT and attended Yale University (in my hometown of New Haven). Although he lived in Stamford, Joe had family in New Haven that attended the same shul as we did. My friend’s parents set Joe up with his wife Hadassah. Joe would occasionally visit his family in New Haven, and he was the talk of the town when he attended the Young Israel of New Haven. Our pride in Joe became even greater when in 1989 he defeated incumbent Republican Lowell Weicker to become our US Senator.  An interesting fact about that first Senate victory (the biggest upset of that election cycle) is that Joe won with the support of conservative Republicans, including National Review publisher William F. Buckley.  Senator Lieberman became known as a pragmatist, willing to work with politicians from either party in order to further his goals and his agenda. He was also a centrist, unwilling to “sell his soul” to any ideology or party. He supported issues and causes that he was passionate about, regardless of which party sponsored them. A good example of this is that Senator Lieberman supported President George Bush and his launching of the Iraq War, even though it was unpopular among Democrats. This decision led to Joe losing the Democratic primary for Senator to a candidate who was purely aligned with the policies of the Democratic Party. Lucky for Joe, the winner of the primary still needs to win the general election. In 2006 Joe ran as an independent after losing the primary, and won the general election to retain his Senate seat.

Joe Lieberman will go down in history as the first Jewish person to run for Vice President. In 2000, Joe ran on the Democratic Presidential ticket as Al Gore’s Vice President, and he came with 537 votes of winning. (I understand that those who were living in Florida during the 2000 election recount still have anxiety whenever they hear the word “chad”.)

Not only was Joe Lieberman a Jew and a proud Jew; he was also an observant Jew. The headline on the newsite Yeshiva World News first referred to Joe as a Shomer Shabbos before mentioning that he was a US Senator. Being a Shomer Shabbos is a moniker that is within all of our abilities to attain and to celebrate. As my colleague and Joe’s Rabbi Daniel Cohen put it in an interview Wednesday, that at the synagogue, the late senator would be remembered as a “mensch par excellence” who — in spite of his lofty position — hung around to schmooze after services. “He was a senator, but at the same time, he sat in seats like everybody else, he enjoyed the kiddush like everybody else,” Cohen recalled, noting Lieberman’s fondness of cholent and whiskey. “When he walked home from shul, he got soaked on rainy days. He was one of us.”

“People always wanted to get his ear — like, how often do you have a senator who’s like, hanging out eating cholent with you? People visiting Stamford would be like, ‘He’s davening mincha like me?’” Cohen recalled, referring to the afternoon service. “But he gave everyone the time of day. He listened well.”

Joseph I Lieberman embodied the spirit of the Biblical Joseph: comfortable in the highest echelons of power while remaining true and proud of his Jewish identity. Our world today can use certainly use a voice and a perspective like Joe’s. With his passing, we all must do what we can to follow in his footsteps

The Korban Oleh V’Yored in Our Lives

One of the first terms that I learned when I was working at a Jewish Family Service in NJ was sliding scale fee. As a not-for—profit mental health facility, Jewish Family Services is committed to helping those in need, irrespective of a client’s ability to pay; so most agencies have a sliding scale fee arrangement. A person pays what s/he is able to afford, based on their income and financial situation.

One could say that the idea of a sliding scale fee structure is found in this week’s Parsha. Sefer Vayikra begins with an overview of the various types of sacrifices, and the circumstances surrounding the offering of each. Chapter Five teaches that there are some violations for which a Korban Oleh V’Yored is brought. A Korban Oleh V’Yored is a sliding scale sacrifice (Oleh V’Yored means “up and down”). One who is of means will bring a female sheep or goat as a Korban Chatat. If one cannot afford an animal then they bring two doves instead. Those who cannot even afford two birds are instructed to bring an offering of flour as a Korban. Korban Oleh V’Yored reminds us that our ability to have a relationship with G-d and to be a valued member of Jewish society is not dependent on one’s economic status. As long as one commits to the cause and they reach deep to do and to give as much as they can- then we appreciate their efforts and they are considered members in good standing within the community.

In explaining the “sliding scale Korban” the Sefer Hachinuch makes two points. First, quoting the Talmud, the Chinuch writes that if one has the means to afford a goat or sheep as their Korban but instead brings a less expensive sacrifice, that person has not fulfilled his or her requirement and must bring another sacrifice that is on par with their economic status. The message here is clear. People must be willing to honestly prioritize their financial resources and determine what it is they are able to give. The Torah warns us not to undervalue nor undercut our religious and communal obligations.

The second point that the Chinuch makes is that if a person of modest means overextends him or herself in order to bring a sacrifice that is out of their budget, that person has also NOT fulfilled their obligation of bringing a Korban Oleh V’Yored. It seems odd: after all, there is a rich tradition within the Halacha of Hidur Mitzvah, of spending more than the minimum in order to perform a mitzvah in a beautiful way. Why is it that a person of modest means who stretches to bring a more expensive Korban should be denied the opportunity?

The Sefer Hachinuch is teaching us the importance of living within our means. If a person cannot afford it, then s/he should not be buying it, even for the sake of a mitzvah. It’s a difficult lesson to take seriously in this country. After all, our government is 34 Trillion dollars (that’s twelve zeros) in debt. That works out to over $101,000 of debt for each person living in this country. Is it any wonder that personal debt has reached epidemic proportions?  The average household is burdened with 12,000 dollars of credit card debt. It has come to the point in this country that debt is good for your credit rating. A person with debt in most circumstances will be considered a better candidate for a loan than someone without debt.  Korban Oleh V’Yored teaches us the value of living within our means and of financial independence. The Torah is satisfied with different sacrifices from different people, so long as everyone prioritizes the cause and gives it their best effort.

The Half Shekel and Tzedakah: Acting Beyond Our Egos

 In describing the mitzvah of the half shekel, the Torah at the beginning of Parshat Ki Tisa states: “The rich shall give no more, and the poor shall give no less than half a shekel.” The half shekel is a contribution that every obligated Jew contributes in an equal fashion. The Rambam expounds on the obligation of the poor to contribute this half shekel: “Even a poor man who derives his livelihood from charity is obligated [to make this donation]. He should borrow from others or sell the clothes5 he is wearing so that he can give a half-shekel of silver.” Rav Aharon Lichtenstein zt’l notes that this is the only mitzvah in the Torah that requires a poor person to sell his garments in order to fulfill the obligation. This might be because the half shekel is referred to as “an atonement for your souls”, and everyone can use some atonement.

Additionally, the half shekels were used to purchase animals that were brought as communal sacrifices which would facilitate atonement for the nation as a whole. Rav Lichtenstein notes that it would be inappropriate for a person to enjoy the benefits of this communal atonement without participating in the burden (financial and others) required to attain it. This is an important lesson that extends far beyond the half shekel and communal sacrifices. If we benefit from Jewish communal resources, whether directly or indirectly, then we should feel a sense of responsibility to contribute to the ongoing vitality and expansion of those resources.

Rav Lichtenstein notes that when it comes to the laws of Tzedakah, the Rambam similarly writes that even a poor person who himself is dependent on charity must give something to tzedakah on an annual basis (Laws of Matnot Aniyim 7:1-5). Why must a beneficiary of tzedakah still give his own tzedakah? Rav Lichtenstein explains that Halacha wants every person to be a giver in some way and at some time; even if that person is most often a receiver. By being a giver a person will leave his self-centered perspective and see/ assist others in need.

The Talmud in Baba Batra (8b) teaches that Beit Din is empowered to compel a person to give tzedakah. Some of the commentators ask on this rule based on another Talmudic teaching that “any Beit Din cannot compel a person to perform any commandment that has a specific reward stated in the Torah”. And tzedakah is a mitzvah whose reward is specified in the Torah (Devarim 15:10): “You shall surely give him, and your heart shall not be grieved when you give to him; for because of this thing the Lord, your God, will bless you in all your work and in all your endeavors.” Rav Lichtenstein suggested that the reason Beit Din can compel the performance of tzedakah is out of a concern for the moral health of society. Beit Din is empowered to educate the community and to  compel people move out of their natural egocentric perspective and consider other people and their needs as an expression of their role as part of the Jewish community. 

Why the Kohen Wears Shatnez, But We Don’t

 The uniform of the Kohanim while serving in the Mishkan was meant to have a powerful spiritual impact, both on the priests themselves as well as on the rest of Bnai Yisrael. A peculiar characteristic of some of these garments stands out and begs an explanation. Regarding the Ephod, the apron from whose straps hung the Choshen Mishpat (the breast plate containing precious stones representing each of the twelve tribes), the Torah states (Shemot 28:6, 15):

“And they shall make the ephod of gold, of blue, and purple, scarlet, and fine twined linen, the work of the skillful workman.”

“And you shall make a breastplate of judgment, the work of the skillful workman; like the work of the ephod you shall make it: of gold, of blue, and purple, and scarlet, and fine twined linen, shalt thou make it.”

The Rambam identified the type of thread that was dyed with the colors that the Torah specifies.

(Mishnah Torah Klei HaMikdash 8: 13):

“Whenever the Torah uses the word sheish or bad, it is referring to linen. Whenever the term techeilet is used, it refers to wool which is dyed blue. The term argaman refers to wool that is dyed red. And tola'at sheni refers to wool dyed with a bug.”

The Ephod, the Choshen and the Avnet (belt) were therefore comprised of a mixture of linen and wool, a combination that the Torah explicitly prohibits to wear as shatnez. 

One of the few commentators to addresses this question of shatnez in the Kohen’s garments was Rabbi Samson Raphael Hirsch. In a section of commentary dealing with shatnez Rav Hirsch explains, “Only the priest had wool and flax mixed in his clothing, for he represents the community as a unity, and in his personality bridges all dissimilarities.”

In Rav Hirsch’s view, rather than thinking of shatnez as something negative, it represents a higher, unified level of existence in which only special people  involved in special ritual activities can access. According to Rav Hirsch we should view shatnez on some level  as symbolizing the ideal of Jewish unity which we should yearn for and admire as it is manifest in the service of the Kohanim, even as it is forbidden to the rest of us. 

Diversity and unity are important Jewish values. I have been known to say that one of the few types of people that might not feel comfortable at our shul is a person who is looking for uniformity and doesn’t want to daven in the same shul as someone who ___________ (fill in the blank).

I view the diversity of our shul as an essential feature and as a strength. 

As individuals we are entitled, even encouraged, to socialize and surround ourselves with like minded people with similar values who will support and inspire us in our lifelong pursuit of religious growth. But as a kehilla I believe that we are called upon to celebrate our diversity and to live the lesson that is taught by the priestly shatnez garments.

Give or Take- But Know How to Take

 

There is an enigmatic line at the beginning of Parshat Terumah. Hashem commands Moshe to tell Bnei Yisrael to embark upon a much needed building campaign (25:2):

דַּבֵּר֙ אֶל־בְּנֵ֣י יִשְׂרָאֵ֔ל וְיִקְחוּ־לִ֖י תְּרוּמָ֑ה

“Speak to the children of Israel, and have them take for Me a donation”

The Jewish People are being informed of the need to raise funds and collect materials in order to build the Mishkan. We would expect Hashem to command the people “to give a donation”, yet the word used is to “take a donation”. This question is raised by many commentators throughout the ages and one famous answer is the same sentiment expressed by Amschel Rothschild, that what really belongs to us forever are those things that we give to others and dedicate to good causes greater than ourselves. “The more you give, the more you get” is not merely a cliché but a profoundly Jewish way to look at life and to live life.

Rabbi Dr. Abraham Twerski offers an alternate explanation. Instead of focusing on the power and importance of giving, Rabbi Dr Twerski sees in this pasuk a reminder of the importance of taking. While conventional wisdom teaches that it is easy to take and sometimes more difficult to give, some people feel that accepting help of any kind is demeaning.

The Mishnah in Peah (8:9) teaches: “And anyone who does not need to take [charity] and yet takes, will not depart from this world before he actually needs [charity] from others. And anyone who needs to take and does not take, will not die of old age until he supports others with his own money.” It seems from this Mishnah that self-sufficiency is the highest value, even if a person needs help s/he should refrain from taking. However, Rabbi Ovadia MiBartenura explains this Mishnah by adding an important caveat:

“However if the work of his hands is not sufficient for him and he afflicts himself in a life of pain that near death, on this they said, that whomever needs to take and does not take, he is like one who sheds blood and it is forbidden to have mercy upon him, for he does not have consideration for his own soul, how much more so upon the souls of others.”

Rabbi Dr. Twersky explains that people who are incapable of accepting assistance when needed often suffer from low self-esteem which can negatively impact not only one’s perception of self but also their relationships with others. He retells a story from his own practice to highlight this idea: (Twersky on Chumash pg. 157)

One of my patients, a woman who was recovering from alcoholism, confided in a friend that her furnace had broken down in the midst of a frigid spell and she had slept three nights in an unheated apartment. Her friend said, “You could have stayed at my house for those three nights.” She responded, “I don’t like to impose on anyone.”

I called this patient and I told her that I was disappointed because I was hopeful that she could be helpful to newcomers in recovery. She said, “Please, you can call on me at any time.” I said, “I’m sorry, but I cannot. Anyone who cannot accept help has no right to give it.” 

Perhaps the Torah uses a language of “taking” when it comes to the Mishkan to teach us that while giving is good and commendable, if we want to strengthen all of our relationships (with others, with Hashem, and with ourselves) we have to also be able to take at times.

Happiness Tips from Our Daily Davening

 Today is Rosh Chodesh Adar Rishon. This year there are two Adar’s on the Jewish calendar. The Mishna states that “When Adar begins we increase our joy.” We might assume that in a leap year with two Adar’s this Talmudic statement only applies the the second Adar, the Adar in which we celebrate the very joyous holiday of Purim. However, the Lubavitcher Rebbe, among others, insists that the imperative to increase our joy applies to both months of Adar. Happiness can refer to so many expressions, with just as many different causes. What does Jewish tradition mean when it talks about happiness? Our daily recitation of Az Yashi, the Song at the Sea, in Pesukei D’Zimra provides us with some insight and some direction.

In Shulchan Aruch Siman 51, the Mishnah Berura quotes a passage from the Zohar: “that when Shirat Hayam is recited daily, it should be recited B’Simcha, with joy, and one should imagine as if s/he is actually crossing the Yam Suf at that moment.” From this Zohar we learn that we are supposed to be happy when we recite Shirat Hayam- BC THE JEWS WERE HAPPY WHEN THEY ORIGINALLY RECITED IT.

Research has shown that three of the most important qualities that happy people possess are: a feeling of control over one’s life, a sense of optimism, and faith/ religion- a sense of purpose greater than themselves. At the Splitting of the Yam Suf the Pasuk tells us:

                “Vayar Yisrael et Mitzrayim met al sefat Hayam.”

For the first time in over two centuries, Bnai Yisrael were not slaves to a human master. At the moment that they saw the Egyptians drown, they realized that they were now in control of their own destiny. Though this may seem a little scary at first, possessing both free will and agency to act are key ingredients in happiness.

“Vayaaminu BaHashem ubeMoshe Avdo”: In addition to their newfound sense of agency and responsibility, the Jews had Emunah, faith. They had faith in Hashem, ie a commitment to a higher purpose and to religion; as well as faith in themselves that with the help of G-d they could overcome any obstacles in their way.

 Another contributing factor to happiness is being active: challenging ourselves to try new things and to do things that we love. Happiness is often a pleasant side effect to pursuing other activities: whether it is a job, a hobby or a volunteer opportunity. Inactivity and too much leisure can be impediments to happiness.

This seems to be Hashem’a advice to Bnei Yisrael before they even get to Yam Suf:

“Ma Tizak Elai- Daber El Bnei Ysirael Vayisau-“G-d tells Moshe to convey to the people that inactivity will bring anxiety and a feeling of hopelessness. But getting up and going, doing something, in tandem with a feeling of control, optimism and faith in G-d, will lead to success.

A fifth and final factor in achieving happiness is to cultivate relationships. The more quality relationships a person has, the more likely h/she is to be happy. At the Sea, Bnai Yisrael began to appreciate these relationships. They respond with Shira- song. Song only works when people are relating to one another: singing their parts, and playing their instruments together to create beautiful music.

When we put all of these factors together, we begin to map out the components of happiness and see areas of focus for us as we enter the month of Adar. Let us appreciate the control and agency that we execute in our lives. Let us be optimistic, Let us strengthen our faith in Hashem and in ourselves. Let us invest, and never take for granted, our relationships; and let us seek opportunities to develop new relationships. At the Red Sea we learned the key ingredients to happiness. Let us recommit to these lessons every day of our lives and especially during the months of Adar.

Don’t Forget You’re in Galus

In Parshat Yitro we read how both of Moshe’s sons were given names that were reminders of the challenges that Moshe had experienced during his lifetime (18:3-4): “the name of the first sonw as Gershom, because Moshe said ‘I was a stranger in a strange land.’ The name of the other son was Eliezer, because ‘the God of my father helped me and rescued me from Pharaoh’s sword.”

The Pardes Yosef explains that Moshe chose these names for his sons because he wanted them to grow up with a perspective that they may not have otherwise had. Moshe’s sons grew up in Midian, far from the oppression and danger of Egypt. They lacked nothing and probably feared nothing. They grew up surrounded by the love of their parents and (maternal) grandparents. They had a idyllic upbringing, and that is why Moshe gave them names that would always remind them of the precarious state of the Jewish experience- even when times are good. A Jewish child in the Diaspora must be taught that Galus, whether Egypt or Midian or America, is not the Jewish homeland. Though it doesn’t always feel like it, we live a precarious existence that requires both Divine intervention and a self-awareness of the underlying vulnerabilities and dangers that always exist for a Jew. By choosing these names, it was as if Moshe was telling his son, “My life should teach you, and all of Klal Yisrael, a lesson. I grew up as a prince in Egypt. I had everything a boy could want. I lived a privileged life. And then my whole world turned upside down, and I had to flee for my life.

Moshe’s story has repeated itself many times throughout Jewish history. The Pardes Yosef gives the example of the Jews of Spain. Once upon a time the Jews experienced a “golden age” living in Spain. They were secure, respected and prosperous. Jewish leaders, such as the Abravanel and Rav Shmuel Hanagid, served as trusted advisers to the monarchs of Spain. And then things changed, and the Jews lost favor. A century of turbulence for Spanish Jews ended with the edict of the expulsion of Spanish Jewry on Tisha B’Av 1492.

The Talmud (Baba Batra 73b) quotes a parable offered by Rabba bar bar Channah: “We were once traveling on a boat and saw what turned out to be a fish. It was so huge that sand collected on its back, and we thought that it was actually an island. We got off the boat and stepped onto this “island”. We started a barbecue. When the heat got too much for the fish, it rolled over and we fell off into the water. Had we not been close to the boat, we would have all drowned.”

The Maharsha explains the parable as follows: Those who live in the Diaspora are trying to navigate our way through the stormy seas of exile. We think we have found a safe haven to land. We get comfortable, start living our lives, and we may even prosper. Then our island turns over and we realize that we were never really safe- we had planted ourselves on the back of a finicky fish. As we recover from the latest expulsion we consider ourselves lucky to just be alive.

Whether America is in fact a finicky fish or Spain is beside the point. American Jews have been blessed and we hope that these blessings continue. But the lesson that Moshe tried to impart through the names of his two sons must resonate, especially today. Jewish life outside of the Jewish homeland should never be viewed as guaranteed. A Galus mentality must include an awareness of our relatively precarious state and that Israel needs to be part of our present identity, just as we know that it is our future.   

Tu B’Shevat 5784 Musings

 

Tu B’Shevat 5784 Musings

Every year on the spring holiday of Tu Bishvat, the Knesset traditionally holds a festive event, open to the public, to celebrate both the holiday and the Knesset’s founding in 1949. This time, however, the ceremony began with a moment of silence in memory of the 24 soldiers who were killed in two incidents in the Gaza Strip on Monday.

Knesset Speaker MK Amir Ohana stressed the diverse backgrounds of the soldiers who were killed, including Elkana Vizel, who was evacuated from Gush Katif in the Gaza Strip in 2005; Nir Binyamin, from Givatayim; and Ahmad Abu-Latif, from the Bedouin city of Rahat.

 

The modern celebration of Tu B’Shevat is tied to the modern state of Israel. This year, Tu B’Shevat is overshadowed by the war in Gaza. In honor of our recent celebration of Tu B’Shevat, I want to share three stories of hope and resilience that relate to Israel, agriculture, and October 7:

 

From Reuters January 21:

Some of the bereaved families whose loved ones were killed in a Hamas rampage at the Nova music festival joined an Israeli Jewish nature project group on Sunday for a special tree-planting event at the site.

Around 1,000 people planted about 200 seedlings in the scorched earth of the Re'im parking lot where thousands of young people were partying in the dawn hours of Oct. 7 when armed Palestinian infiltrators swept in.

“I still can’t believe that we are planting a tree instead of hugging our child,” Ela Bahat, whose son Dror was killed at the festival, told Reuters.

Family members wept while planting trees with the Israeli Jewish National Fund, hoping to bring new life to the scene of death and desecration.

 

From the Times of Israel, November 5, 2023

The owners of a small plant nursery in Kibbutz Be’eri, one of the worst devastated communities in the October 7 Hamas onslaught, thought they had lost their business when they were forced to evacuate. But then they returned, only to discover soldiers had broken in to water the plants.

“Be’eri had a thriving nursery for household plants, a little blossoming paradise that made everyone happy,” owner Avivit John wrote on social media Saturday.

“When we were forced to evacuate, it was clear that all the plants would dry up. Rain does not get inside and the watering was done by hand. After two days without water, the plants start to wither,” she said.

 “Now we found a small miracle in Be’eri,” she wrote, posting a video of the thriving nursery they found when they returned several weeks later and a sign explaining it.

“Sorry we broke into the nursery, we had to water the plants. With love, the soldiers,” the sign said.

 

On October 7^th a tank entering Kfar Azza ran over an orange tree as it was responding to the terrorist attack. The tank was part of the Israeli response that was ultimately able to kill 100 terrorists in the kibbutz. Three weeks later, those who were in the tank came back to Kfar Azza to plant a new orange tree to replace the one that they had destroyed. See picture above of the planting, with the old tree in the background.

 

When I was a high school senior I applied to Yeshivat Har Etzion and was interviewed by the great Rav Aharon Lichtenstein zt’l. In the second part of the interview Rav Lichtenstein asked me why I thought the founding fathers of the United States idealized the agrarian lifestyle. The torah also idealizes an agrarian lifestyle and a connection to the Land.  Perhaps that is because Jews, like farmers, value hard work, patience, resilience, and prayer.

 

 

Kiddush Hashem Doesn’t Always Have To Be Difficult

 Rabbi Simcha Zissel Ziv, better known as the Alter of Kelm, once wrote a letter of gratitude to a great Jewish philanthropist whom we assume was Baron Edmond Rothschild. Here is a quote from that letter (recorded in the book Ohr Rashaz):

“I am writing to thank your exalted honor to give thanks and to bless you for all the kindnesses you constantly do for Hashem’s flock by choosing to follow the advice of the Holy One Blessed is He: ‘Choose life.’

“Do not suspect me, chas v’shalom, of seeking my own benefit; Heaven forbid I should do that. But in my humble opinion I am obligated to give thanks to you and to bless you for the wonderful things you do for Klal Yisrael for when a person as respected as you stands before kings and upholds the fortress of our religion the ordinary people take note and learn from you. That is a great kiddush Hashem which you have brought about and spread throughout the world and your reward will be very great.”

In that same letter Reb Simcha Zissel shares a lesson from Parshat Bo. The last of the ten plagues is the death of all Egyptian firstborn males. We read in Bo that the firstborn of the Jewish People, human and animal, will forever be sanctified due to the miracle of Makkat Bechorot. The Alter asked: What did the Jewish firstborn do in Egypt to earn this status of heightened sanctity? Also, being a firstborn is merely an accident of birth. Why should that warrant an elevated status? The Alter of Kelm answered that we learn from here that even passive participation in a Kiddush Hashem is a noteworthy accomplishment. It is meritorious if God chooses you to play a role in a Kiddush Hashem, even if it is only a passive role.

After sharing this Dvar Torah with the Baron, the Alter went on to write that if Parshat Bo teaches us that a passive participant in Kiddush Hashem is rewarded to such a great degree, then how much greater must the reward be for someone like Baron Rothschild who is an active contributor to Kiddush Hashem.

One of our major tasks in life is to bring a positive awareness and consciousness of God in this world. This is what we mean by creating Kiddush Hashem. Sometimes this is accomplished through hard and difficult actions. Sometimes it can be accomplished through passivity, like by just being a first born. Opportunities to create Kiddush Hashem lie along a continuum, and we should not underestimate the potential of creating Kiddush Hashem throughout our routine and normal activities. The Talmud teaches just how easy Kiddush Hashem can be accomplished 9Yoma 86a):

One should do so in that he should read Torah, and learn Mishna, and serve Torah scholars, and he should be pleasant with people in his business transactions. What do people say about such a person? Fortunate is his father who taught him Torah, fortunate is his teacher who taught him Torah, woe to the people who have not studied Torah. So-and-so, who taught him Torah, see how pleasant are his ways, how proper are his deeds. The verse states about him and others like him: “You are My servant, Israel, in whom I will be glorified” (Isaiah 49:3).

The Talmud also warns us that it can be just as easy to create Chilul Hashem, a desecration of God’s name, if we are not careful with our actions nor with the perception of those deeds. With a little bit of attention and intention we have opportunities all the time to create Kiddush Hashem through relatively easy, normal and routine actions and behaviors. Let us take advantage of those easy Kiddush Hashem opportunities when they present themselves.

Rabbi Weinstock Goes To Washington

On Wednesday I was in Washington DC as part of a mission organized by OU Advocacy. Over 100 Jews from across the country traveled to our nation’s capital, on their own time and on their own dime, to advocate to our elected officials on behalf of causes important to our American Jewish community. The focus of our advocacy was support for Israel, support for the Non-profit Security Grant Program (of which our shul has been a beneficiary a number of times), and addressing antisemitism. At the White House we heard from Ambassador Deborah Lipstadt, Special Envoy to monitor and Combat Anti-Semitism. Ambassador Lipstadt explained that antisemitism is not only a threat to Jews, but also to democracy. She suggested that is why China has recently allowed anti-Semitic material to be disseminated through its government sanctioned internet and social media addresses. Historically the Chionese have had much affinity towards the Jewish People. But disseminating Jew hatred is a way to undermine democracy, which is something China is interested in accomplishing.

During lunch in the Senate office building we heard from a number of senators who expressed their strong support for Israel and their condemnation of Jew hatred. Senator Katie Britt from Alabama impressed me with her sincerity and her clarity when she said, “Evil cannot be defeated through equivocation or complicity. Good will win.” Senator Susan Collins from Maine reminded the audience that the protestors are not pro-Palestinian, but rather they are pro-Hamas.  Senator Collins told a powerful story of how after meeting her great aunt she carried a picture of Abigail Idan who was 3 years old when she was taken hostage by Hamas. After Abigail was returned to her aunt (her parents were killed on 10/7) the family sent Senator Collins another picture of Abigail which she keeps in her office.

Senator Kevin Cramer from North Dakota explained that his support from Israel originated with his mom who was a firm believer in the Bible, including the part in Genesis that says that those who bless the Jewish People will be blessed. Senator Josh Hawley from Missouri noted that October 7 was a “civilizational moment” for the world to understand the evils that exist in the world and the importance of combatting that evil and standing on the right side of history. Florida Senator Marco Rubio expressed dismay at the current state of elite universities and noted that we cannot have a strong country without stable communities and strong families.

In the afternoon I was part of a small group that met with the staff of Representative Jared Moskowitz and ended my day leading a meeting with our representative, Congresswomen Debbie Wasserman Schultz. Both Debbie and Jared are proud Jews and very supportive of Israel and the fight against anti-Semitism. Debbie recently returned from a trip to Qatar in which she pushed the country to do more to bring the hostages home.

My trip was brief but heartening. The Jewish People and the Jewish State have many friends in the halls of power in America. On my way out of the House office building I ran into Congressman Derrick Van Orden from Wisconsin. He told us that he went to Israel soon after 10/7 and was at the site of the Nova music festival massacre. He brought home with him drinking cups from the festival and sent them to members of The Squad in Congress to remind them of what really happened on October 7 and the difference between good and evil.

It is important to engage with our elected officials: to thank them, to encourage them to keep up the good work, to challenge them when we disagree. Even though all of the Senators that came to lunch were already pro Israel, it is important for them to reinforce that support by expressing it vocally as often as possible. It’s the same reason why we daven every day. Saying something once is not enough. Speech is the bridge between thought and action. We clarify and reinforce our beliefs by verbalizing them often. We ensure that we act upon those beliefs by committing ourselves to them in words.

What is in a Name?

 The Yalkut Shimoni quotes a tradition that Moshe had 10 names, in addition to Moshe. What was it about the name Moshe that made it his primary identity? There are at least three answers that speak to the essential character of Moshe and lessons we can learn from Moshe- the name and the man.

One, Moshe was a non-conformist. Rabbi Yehuda Amital pointed out that water, being a liquid, takes on the shape of the container into which it is poured. Having no shape of its own, water is constantly adjusting to its surroundings. Water represents the ultimate in conformity. Moshe was drawn out of the water. In a sense, he is the anti-water. Moshe did not conform to Egyptian society, nor to the norms of Jewish behavior in Egypt. He riles against the status quo- and when he is at first successful, he does not give up- rather he runs away to fight another day. The name Moshe alludes to the nonconformist behavior that our rabbis identify as the merit and reason Bnai Yisrael were able to maintain a unique identity even during the bondage of Egypt.

Two, Moshe was exceedingly humble. The Torah testifies that Moshe was the most humble of all human beings. It was this humility that allowed him to be so great- for God would have never allowed a person with ego to be the greatest prophet in history. Such concentrated power combined with ego would have been too dangerous of a mixture. What were the origins of this humble quality? There may have been a genetic predisposition, but it was surely his early life experience of being saved from the Nile River that solidified his emphasis on humility. Moshe lived his life with the acute awareness that he might not be alive at all had it not been for the grace of God and the kindness of the daughter of Pharaoh. When a person thinks that his very existence is a kindness afforded to him or her by others- it changes one’s whole outlook on life. No longer are we preoccupied with our rights- what we deserve and what we feel is coming to us. Rather everything that we get in life is now viewed as a gift. Nothing is taken for granted, and everything is appreciated.

Third, Moshe felt that the response to his gift of life must go beyond gratitude- and extend to responsibility. Many commentators have difficulty understanding the relationship between the name Moshe and the reason offered by the Torah for that name. The Daughter of Pharaoh claims that she named him Moshe because she drew him from the water. If that was the case, then his name should have been Mashuy, the passive form of the verb, one who was drawn from the water. Moshe is the active form- ie one who draws / saves others. Seforno explains Batya’s rationale. She said, “the reason why I named him Moshe is to indicate that he will rescue others.” Batya wanted Moshe to remember that he was saved from the waters, and that created a responsibility for him to go out and attempt to save others. Moshe’s name here was a call to action in the future. He was to realize that his blessings were meant to be used to create more accomplishments and more blessings for others.

We can learn much from Moshe the person, but Parshat Shemot introduces us to the man by teachings us lessons from his main name, the one that is associated with his role in the transmission of Torah from God to the Jewish People.