Elul Encouragement: Shofar Then L’Dovid

 Two of the well-known customs during the month of Elul are performed one right after the other at the end of Shacharit services: the blowing of the shofar and the recitation of Tehillim Chapter 27 “L’Dovid Hashem Ori”. Of the two customs, shofar blowing during Elul is more established and referenced earlier and more often in books of Jewish law. Due in part to its more established status, some Rabbis believed that the proper order of operations is to recite Psalm 27 first and end services with the sound of the shofar. Although this makes a lot of sense and would seem to be a more dramatic way to end services, it is not the customary order of operations in most synagogues, including ours. We blow the shofar and then recite “L’Dovid”. We can get a better understanding of why we do what we do by briefly reviewing the reason for each custom.  The Tur (O.C 581) quotes Pirkei D’Rabbi Eliezer to explain why we blow the shofar in Elul. Historically, Moshe broke the first set of tablets on the 17^th of Tammuz. After praying for the People’s forgiveness, Moshe was finally ready to ascend Mt. Sinai again to receive the second tablets on the first day of Elul. On that day, the shofar was sounded as a warning to the Jewish People not to make the same mistake this time around. In effect, the sound of the shofar during Elul is a reminder of how very difficult it is for human beings to change their ways. The sin of the Golden Calf was a once-in-history type of event. And yet, as Moshe ascends Mt Sinai to receive the second tablets the shofar is sounded to remind the Jewish People not to make that mistake again. When we hear the shofar, we too are being challenged to change our ways and perspectives. But we are creatures of habit. If the Jews who erred and were forgiven for the sin of the Golden Calf were suspected of not changing, what hope can we have? That is why we recite Tehillim Chapter 27 after the shofar blasts. As King David writes in this Psalm, Hashem is our light and our salvation. Teshuva may be difficult, but if we put our trust in Hashem then it is well within our reach. During the month of Elul, Teshuva is the natural outcome if we heed the call of the shofar and understand “L’Dovid Hashem Ori” as both a note of encouragement as well as a call to action.

Feeling Our Excitement in Life- In Torah

 Children often cannot see the benefits or detriments of their behaviors. Explaining to them why it is good or bad for them will fall on deaf ears. The future consequences of their behaviors and actions may be abstract and beyond a child’s ability to comprehend. That is why parents and teachers must often use concrete rewards and punishments in real time in order to help a child make good choices and begin to appreciate what they should be doing and what they should not be doing. For example, a parent might bribe a child with candy to go to a doctor’s appointment without putting up a fight- even though healthcare is good for that child. And a parent might punish a child if they run into the street unaccompanied in a way that the child will easily comprehend (like no dessert) because it is difficult for that child to appreciate the danger and error of their actions. We would hope that once that child reaches adulthood they no longer require these external motivators in order to do the right thing and to avoid bad things. However the reality is that humans never fully grow out of this quirk. We often engage in behaviors that are clearly bad for us- whether they are bad for our health or damaging to our neshamas. And even if we know something is good for us or the right thing to do, we may be averse to engaging in those activities if it requires a lot of effort or if it’s not enjoyable. The Torah was aware of this human quirk. That is why even after impressing upon us that keeping Torah is objectively beneficial and that straying from the Torah’s ways is objectively detrimental, Moshe is forced to succinctly articulate this truth. At the beginning of Parshat Reeh Moshe tells the people: “Behold, I set before you today a blessing and a curse. The blessing, that you will heed the commandments of the Lord your God, which I command you today; and the curse, if you will not heed the commandments of the Lord your God, but turn away from the way I command you today, to follow other gods, which you did not know.” If we don’t keep Torah and mitzvot because we appreciate their value, then we should do so because otherwise we will experience a curse- i.e. negative consequences. The pesukim use the word “today” both in regards to the blessing as well as the curse. Rashi (later in Devarim) explains that we should experience a Torah lifestyle with the freshness and excitement as if it is new to us today and every day. The Chasam Sofer asked: How does this comment of Rashi explain why the word “today” is found in regards to the curse? The Chasam Sofer explained that human nature is to need excitement and to seek it out. If a person does not find that sense of excitement, wonder and satisfaction within a Torah lifestyle then they will be compelled to seek those feelings elsewhere. It is not surprising that throughout history, less affiliated and non-observant Jews are often at the forefront of new political, social and economic movements. Instead of finding a sense of wonder and amazement within Torah – they look elsewhere. This can also explain why so many Jews who have not been exposed to the beauty of Torah, look to other spiritual traditions (such as transcendental meditation, Buddhism etc) in an attempt to nourish that void in their soul. If you are reading this message it means that you are inclined to seek inspiration and meaning from Torah and Jewish tradition. We can never take that for granted. We cannot allow our Jewish practice, identity, or pride to ever get stale. If we do, we risk looking elsewhere and turning away from the source of blessings.

The 4 Ingredients in Nurturing Jewish Identity

 Like many families, all of my children participated in Jewish summer programs this summer; two as counselors and two as campers. Anecdotes indicate, and studies have confirmed, the power of immersive Jewish experiences on shaping Jewish identity and promoting Jewish pride. Many Jewish youth will participate in formal Jewish activities with a frequency and intensity that parents don’t always see from their child at home or in school; such as daily tefilah/ attending minyan, participating in Torah study sessions, and singing/ dancing to Jewish songs. It is as if summer camp can take a child out of his/her element and preconceived notions and allow them to be more connected to their neshamas in an authentic way, without any being self-conscious or worrying about “what other kids might say”.  Over the years parents have approached me with concerns about the development of their child’s Jewish identity. Inevitably my response would include my opinion that there are three primary contributors to a child’s Jewish identity: School, Shul and Home. Both School and Shul provide outlets and opportunities to cultivate a child’s literacy, identity and sense of belonging. But it is ultimately a parent’s responsibility to ensure that their child participates and takes advantage of the opportunities afforded by Shul and School. It is also important for parents to realize that they are the primary role models for their children. Parents are children’s first teachers and primary role models. We must embody the values and observances that we want our children to internalize. In addition to Shul, School and Home one can argue that summer camp is the fourth leg that helps solidify and strengthen Jewish identity. But if someone does not attend Jewish summer camp (and even for those who do) there is great value in incorporating immersive Jewish experiences into our lives. This can be accomplished outside of the summer and can be provided by other organizations, including Shul and School.  And we can all benefit from immersive Jewish experiences, even those of us too old to attend summer camp.  Parshat Eikev contains the second paragraph of the Shema. The pasuk states (11:19): “And you (plural) must teach your children to speak these words of Torah.” Britain’s Chief Rabbi Mirvis explains that this verse is a mandate on the Jewish community as a whole to ensure that there are institutions in our community, such as schools, shuls and summer camps that are tasked with educating the next generation of Jews and helping them connect to their Jewish identity. The Torah continues in the singular – you (in the singular) must speak these words of Torah, “when you are sitting in your home, when you are on the way, when you get up and when you lie down.” The Sefer Menachem Tzion teaches us that from here we learn that what children are taught in school needs to be matched by the home environment. So when we are sitting at home, when we are engaged in our daily pursuits, when we are also on our way outside of our home when we’re at work, when we are on a family vacation, we should be living a true and authentic Torah way of life, just as our children have been taught about when they are in school, shul and summer camp. One way for parents to fulfill this mandate is by bringing our children to shul for experiential activities and events that promote these values. One event that I want to bring to your attention is Musical Hallel and Breakfast, presented by the shul and the Youth Department, scheduled for Rosh Chodesh Elul- Sunday August 24. Minyan in the Sanctuary will begin at 9 AM (musical Hallel will begin at approximately 9:30 AM) Breakfast will be served in the Social Hall following minyan. Adults, children and families are invited to attend, and sponsorship opportunities are available (contact me for sponsorship information). This will be a great way to start your Sunday, a great way to start Rosh Chodesh, and a great opportunity for us to live our values and to instill them into the next generation

Minority Influence

 Psychologist Serge Moscovici studied a phenomenon that he called “minority influence.” Usually in society we expect the majority to influence and change those who are fewer in number. But sometimes the reverse happens. The Suffragette movement in early 20^th 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 lead to successful minority influence. Among those factors are:

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

22 months into the Gaza War, I believe Israel and her supporters have possessed these four criteria:

1. Consistently explaining the justness of the war and why the onus for the current toll of human suffering falls on Hamas.
2. Confidence in the justness of the operation to protect Israeli civilians
3. Regretting the loss of non-combatant lives in Gaza, and willing to investigate specific unfortunate incidents (while remaining steadfast and clear that ultimate responsibility lies with Hamas)
4. Resisting the tremendous pressure to stop the war prematurely with Hamas still in power and promising to repeat the atrocities of October 7 as often as they can.

In Vaetchanan, Moshe reminds Bnai Yisrael of their special relationship with Hashem (7:6):“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.” Moshe continues (7:7): 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 explained that Hashem’s choice of a nation few in number is God’s way of teaching the lesson of minority influence; 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. Israel is a very small country and yet it is a very powerful country. The Jewish State garners a disproportionate, and unfair, amount of attention. This is the challenge of being Me’at, few yet important on the world stage. I believe that there is another lesson to be learned from our dual status as chosen and few in number: And that is that truth and righteousness is not necessarily determined by a majority. It is determined by objective morals and values as received in the Torah, even when those positions are contrary to what most of the world believes. Israel is not purposefully starving Gazan children, even if that is what many media outlets are saying. Recognition of a Palestinian State as a response to the war in Gaza is inappropriate, even if many western countries are planning to do so. Ki Atem Hameat mikol Haamim. Instead of lamenting our numbers, let us remember that Hashem chose us, not necessarily in spite of our small size, but because of it. Let us appreciate the possibility of minority influence and appreciate our Me’at status to better ourselves and the world around us.

Don’t Lose Sight of Your Vision

 Shlomo Hamelech wrote in Mishlei (29:18): בְּאֵ֣ין חָ֖זוֹן יִפָּ֣רַֽע עָ֑ם “without vision, the people will perish.”

Vision is an idea of the future. But more than that, it is the ability to see the present as it is and

formulate a future that grows out of and improves upon the present. People with vision are able to see

into the future without being far-sighted and remain rooted in the present without being near-sighted.

The list of sins alluded to by Moshe at the beginning of this morning’s Parsha can all be attributed to one

basic failing: Bnai Yisrael lacked vision. If we are looking for a role model for having vision, then Rabbi

Akiva is our man. The Talmud (Makkot 24) recounts how Rabbi Akiva and his rabbinic colleagues were

touring the Temple Mount in the aftermath of the Destruction of the Beit Hamikdash. Suddenly, they

saw a fox emerging from what once was the Kodesh Hakodashim. While, his colleagues wept, Rabbi

Akiva laughed. They asked him: Why are you laughing? He asked them: Why are you crying? They

responded: It’s obvious. A place that at one time was so holy that even the High Priest could only enter

into once a year, and now a fox roams through: isn’t that enough reason to cry?! In response Rabbi

Akiva explained that the prophecies of Zecharya foretelling the Messianic age could only be fulfilled

once the prophecy of Uriah which deal with the Temple Mount being plowed over, had been realized.

Rabbi Akiva was a man who saw the bigger picture. He had vision. Instead of dwelling in the tragedy of

the moment, he took solace in knowing that the Messianic prophecies were now sure to be fulfilled. We

should not be surprised by this quality of Rabbi Akiva’s. One of the earliest stories we know of him is

how at age 40 he was inspired to begin learning Torah. What was his inspiration? A rock that over time

was being worn away by dripping water. Only a person with vision could be inspired by such a sight.

Rabbi Akiva understood that real change is the type that takes years if not decades to occur. Rabbi

Akiva’s ability to have vision continued even at the time of his death. We read of his martyrdom on Tisha

B’Av. The Tamlud Yerushalmi explains that as Rabbi Akiva was being executed, he was engrossed in his

prayers. The executioner asked him how it is possible that he not feel the pain. Rabbi Akiva responded

that he rejoiced now at the opportunity to Love G-d with bechol nafshecha- with his life, and not just

with his heart and his possessions. By having vision, and focusing on the bigger picture, namely his love

of G-d, Rabbi Akiva was able to transcend a fleeting moment of unimaginable pain. It is not mere

coincidence that we explore the importance of having vision on Shabbat Chazon, named for the first

words of this morning’s Haftarah. In it, the prophet Isaiah has a chazon, a prophetic vision of the

destruction of Jerusalem and its causes. Rabbi Kalonymous Kalman Shapira, The Piasetzner Rav, was

Rebbe of the Warsaw Ghetto. His sermons and teachings were collected in the book Aish Kodesh. The

last entry in that book is from Shabbat Chazon 1944. In that drasha, Rav Shapira explains that Yeshaya

received a chazon, a vision, because The Jewish People had lost their vision. “We lost the vision of our

true goals in life, and we lost our sight of the truth. Disappointment, frustration and distractions, as well

as a lack of spiritual growth can all be attributed to one root cause: a lack of vision. It’s not enough to

make a To Do list for the day and post it on our refrigerators, or even to make goals for the week. We

need to ask ourselves: What do we want to achieve, who do we want to be in 5, 10 or even 20 years

from now? On this Shabbat Chazon, let us learn from the example set forth by Rabbi Akiva: Real change

and significant goals can only be achieved if we never lose sight of our vision.

Be Prepared to Be in the Spotlight

On November 13, 2013, CNN.com ran the following story out of my hometown of New Haven, CT: “A
Connecticut rabbi returned $98,000 in cash he found in a plastic bag hidden behind drawers of an
ordinary office desk he bought on Craigslist in September. Rabbi Noah Muroff, a high school teacher at a private Jewish school in New Haven, discovered the money while dismantling the $150 desk to move it through a narrow doorway. “The desk did not fit … by just a fraction of an inch,” Muroff said.He said he unhooked file cabinet drawers and removed the top of the desk. Then came the unexpected surprise.
“Without detaching the desk, Muroff said, “this money, which was behind the drawers, was totally
inaccessible.” The rabbi and his wife, Esther, were in total shock. “We were looking at each other and
laughing,” he said. “This kind of thing only happens in the movies.” On the evening of September 2, just days before Rosh Hashanah, the Jewish New Year, Muroff and a friend picked up the desk from a
woman, Patty, who lives just outside of New Haven. Muroff declined to identify the owner further. “I
knew this was her money,” he said. “She told me she bought the desk from Staples and put it together
herself.” Within 20 minutes of finding the money, around 11:30 p.m. that same evening, Muroff called
Patty. “She was speechless, without words,” he said. Muroff said the former owner told him she put her
inheritance in the desk and after a while forgot it was there. “I do not think there are too many people
in this world that would have done what you did by calling me,” Patty wrote in a thank you note to
Muroff that CNN obtained. The couple took their four children with them to return the money the next
day, hoping their good deed will send “the message of honesty and integrity,” he said.

It has been reported that people refer to these types of a kiddush Hashem opportunities as a “Muroff
Moment,” whether it’s returning extra change to a cashier who made a mistake, or this story Rabbi
Muroff heard from a boy at the Clifton Cheder in New Jersey: “He bought a sefer from Z. Berman as a
gift for his rebbe. And he found something like $2,000 cash inside the book. He called them back to
return it — and made sure to tell me that he was inspired by my story.” At first Rabbi Muroff and his
wife kept their good deed quiet and to themselves. A few months later, though, he spoke with Rav
Shmuel Kamenetsky, who encouraged him to share the story. So he shared it with a local television
station. The story blew up all over newspaper and television channels in the U.S., Canada, Israel, and
elsewhere. One TV station went out and asked people on the street what they would have done. Their
reactions were mixed. One woman said, “I would have returned the money.” But others weren’t so sure.
Another woman said, “I would wait and see if they asked for it back.” And one man chimed in,“Finders,
keepers.” Within the Jewish community this story continues to inspire. A picture book, The Surprise in
the Desk, written by Carol Ungar, was published by Hachai in 2020. And in 2022 Yaakov Schwekey
recorded the song, “It Could be You,” featuring Rabbi Muroff. Publicizing the story allowed millions of
people to be inspired by it, thereby creating a powerful force of good that continues to positively impact
the world to this day. This is what Kiddush Hashem is all about: highlighting a person in order to bring
attention to the deed or cause thereby creating more good in the world. While the source for Kiddush
Hashem in the Torah is Parshat Emor (22:32) it can also be derived from a pasuk in Parshat Matot. The
tribes of Gad and Reuven wanted to remain on the east bank of the Jordan. Moshe told them that if
they would join the other tribes in conquering the land, they will have fulfilled their obligation and “be
clear before Hashem and before Yisroel.” “Before Yisroel” indicates that a person must be concerned
about human perception. Rabbi Soloveitchik put it this way: “One might think that one’s reputation is
his own concern; that he not care about others’ opinions. Halacha however maintains that one has no
right to sully his own reputation. His character is sacred and he is not permitted to forfeit his standing.
The human personality must be protected and not degraded.”

Two Hands - Two Mesorahs

In Parshat Pinchas we read about the appointment of Yehoshua as Moshe’s successor. Hashem told Moshe to give Yehoshua “Semicha” (his position of leadership) by literally leaning on Yehoshua with one hand (Bamidbar 27:18). A few pesukim later Moshe goes “all in” and leans on Yehoshua with both hands. Rabbi Soloveitchik explained that the two hands represent two traditions that need to be maintained. The first hand represents the intellectual transmission. Judaism contains a lot of facts, data and information. Before the Oral tradition was written down, this information needed to be committed to memory, preserved and transmitted to future generations. This required tremendous effort and dedication. Even today, with lots of books published, we need a transmission of Torah that helps us organize, prioritize and utilize all of the information passed down as part of the Oral Tradition. Moshe taught many students, but Yehoshua was his most devoted and reliable student.

As Pirkei Avot (1:1) makes clear: After Moshe, Yehoshua was the next link in the chain of the intellectual Mesorah. And even others, such as Pinchas or Elazar HaKohen, had faster recall or asked sharper questions, Yehoshua was still the heir to the mantle of Moshe’s leadership because he possessed something more than the intellectual Mesorah.

Rav Soloveitchik quoted the Midrash that Yehoshua also tended to the physical needs of Moshe and the Beit Midrash. For instance, he would arrange the chairs in preparation for the shiur. As the pasuk in Shemot testifies (33:11) Yehoshuia never left the tent of Moshe nor the tent of the shiur.

Rav Soloveitchik points out that only Yehoshua paired his intellectual tradition with a living tradition through service and physical exertion. This is what the Rabbis call Shimush Talmidei Chachamim, situating oneself in the presence of role models- people from whom you can learn from their deeds and their values as much as from their words and their insights. To paraphrase a quote from Maya Angelou, great people are not only memorable for what they say and what they do- but also for how they impact those around them and how they make other people feel.

This impact is what Rav Soloveitchik refers to as the experiential Mesorah. It is what Yehoshua is uniquely known for and it is the reason why Moshe leaned his second hand on Yehoshua as part of the succession ceremony. In a memorial lecture for his wife Rav Soloveitchik once noted two experiences from his childhood that shaped his religious persona: “In my experience, that is in my experiential, not intellectual memory, two nights stand out as endowed with unique qualities, exalted in holiness and shining with singular beauty. These nights are the night of the Seder and the night of Kol Nidrei. As a child I was fascinated by these two nights because they conjured a feeling of majesty. As a child I used to feel stimulated, aroused, and deeply inspired. I used to experience a strange peaceful stillness.

As a child I used to surrender, using the language of the mystics, to a stream of inflowing joy and ecstasy. In a word, as a child I felt the presence of kedusha on these nights.” This is the experiential aspect of Jewish tradition, one that can be taught through words- but only to a degree. To be fully understood it must be experienced and felt. Many of our youth are now at Jewish summer camp or other Jewish summer experiences. The “secret sauce” of the power and impact of these programs is that a) they are immersive- they remove kids from their familiar environment, routine and comfort zone and b) they are experiential. Many of our Jewish day schools have noticed the power of Jewish summer camp and have found ways to bring some of the magic into their schools. Such experiences can be impactful for adults just as they are for children. At our shul I want to encourage people to seek out such experiences – as well as think about ways in which we can bring some of that experiential magic onto our shul campus and into our own programming.

Observant and Observing

 I have always been enamored by stories of great people who demonstrate their greatness through their

attention to seemingly small details. Here’s a story told about the Lubavitcher Rebbe, whose yahrtzeit

was last Sunday, 3 Tammuz. The Rebbe was well known for handing out dollar bills. The Rebbe believed

that whenever two Jews meet it should create a benefit for a third Jew as well. So when the Rebbe

received people seeking his blessing, he would give each person a dollar bill to subsequently give to

tzedaka. On the day that I went to see the Rebbe as a young boy the Rebbe was giving out two dollar

bills to each person. Most people would keep the dollar that they received from the Rebbe as a

memento / segula and give a different dollar bill to Tzedaka. The Rebbe would also give out coins to

children as he was walking in Crown Heights. One time I received a coin from the Rebbe in this fashion.

As opposed to the dollars, the general practice was for children to immediately deposit the coin into the

nearest pushka. At public gatherings (farbrengen), children would sometimes be called up one by one to

receive a coin and a blessing from the Rebbe. The Rebbe would typically extend his right hand — as is

customary in Jewish tradition. One time a boy stepped up, and the Rebbe extended his left hand

instead. This puzzled many onlookers. The right hand is associated with strength and favor; why would

the Rebbe use his left? Later, someone close to the Rebbe asked him, and the Rebbe quietly explained:

“I saw that the boy is left-handed. I wanted him to feel the same comfort and honor as the others. If I

used my right hand, he would have had to awkwardly switch hands to receive the coin. Why should he

feel different or out of place — even for a second?” Another famous story about attention to detail is

told about Rav Chaim Soloveitchik, grandfather of Rabbi Joseph B. Soloveitchik and Rabbi in Brisk. Rav

Chaim was a serious Torah scholar and communal leader, yet he requested that on his tombstone only

the words “Rav Chesed” be engraved. One year on Erev Pesach, hours before the Seder, Rav Chaim

received a knock at the door. Outside stood a poor man who said: “Rabbi, I need to ask you a question

about Seder night. Is it permissible to drink milk for the four cups at the Seder?” Rav Chaim asked his

wife to him bring five rubles, which he gave to the man and wished him a happy Pesach. When the man

had departed, Rav Chaim’s wife inquired: “Why did you give so much money to that man? One ruble

would have been sufficient to buy wine for the whole of Pesach.” Rav Chaim replied: “Since he was

asking whether he could drink milk at the Seder, I deduced that he obviously could not afford meat

either! The extra money was to purchase meat for the festival.” In reading Parshat Balak one can ask:

what exactly did Bilam do wrong? Hashem never told Bilam to turn back, so why is Bilam punished and

villainized by our tradition? Rav Hillel Mertzbach of Yad Binyamin suggested that Bilam might have been

paying attention to the “text” but he was not paying attention to the context. Yes, technically Hashem

told him he could go but the context was that He really didn’t want Bilam to go. Had he been really

paying attention he would have known the truth. Pirkei Avot contrasts Bilam with Avraham Avinu.

Avraham paid attention to everything going on around him. Avraham noticed the sun and the moon and

wondered who created them. This attention to detail led him to become the father of many nations,

including ours. Another term for people who are religious and keep Halacha is “observant”. Yes, we

must observe the mitzvot. But greatness is also found in the way that we observe and are sensitive to

everything and everyone around us.

Take Cheshbon!

 Towards the end of the Parsha we read how Sichon King of Emori did not permit Bnei Yisrael to pass through his territory. The king led his people in war against the Jews, and they were defeated in a battle in which Israel conquered all his cities including Sichon’s capital of Cheshbon. The Talmud in Gittin (38a) teaches that עַמּוֹן וּמוֹאָב טָהֲרוּ בְּסִיחוֹן. land of Ammon and Moab became purified through the conquest of Sihon. Hashem did not permit Bnai Yisrael to conquer lands controlled by their distant cousins, Ammon and Moav: Only once their lands were conquered by Sihon did they become “purified” (ie permitted) to be conquered by Bnai Yisrael. The Torah then gives some background to the Sichon’s victory in a cryptic fashion (21:27): עַל־כֵּ֛ן יֹֽאמְר֥וּ הַמּֽשְׁלִ֖ים בֹּ֣אוּ חֶשְׁבּ֑וֹן תִּבָּנֶ֥ה וְתִכּוֹנֵ֖ן עִ֥יר סִיחֽוֹן: “Concerning this, those who speak in parables say, "Come to Heshbon, may it be built and established as the city of Sihon.” Rashi explains that when Sichon was having difficulties conquering these lands, he hired two prophets, Bilaam and his father Be’or, to curse the Moabites thereby allowing for Sichon’s conquest. “Moshlim” is a reference to the evil father-son prophet team that assured Sichon of the efficacy of their curses by encouraging Sichon to “come to Cheshbon” and conquer it from Moav. The Talmud in Baba Batra (78b) suggests a non-literal reading of the pasuk: “Hamoshlim”; these are the people who rule over [hamoshlim] their evil inclination. They will say: “Come to Heshbon,” meaning: Come and let us calculate the account of [ḥeshbon] the world, i.e., the financial loss incurred by the fulfillment of a mitzva in contrast to its reward, and the reward for committing a transgression, i.e., the pleasure and gain received, in contrast to the loss it entails. “Let it be built and established” means that if you make this calculation, you will be built in this world and you will be established in the World-to-Come.” Literally Moshlim are poets or prophets, but the Talmud understands it to refer to those who “rule” over their impulses and base desires. The way to rule over our base instincts is to make a Cheshbon, an accounting, and to carefully consider the costs and benefits of our actions- both short term and long term. Rabbi Dr. Abraham Twerski noted that western society places a high premium on acting in ways that prioritize the pleasure of the moment. He suggests that this explains why credit card debt is so rampant in America, with the average household carrying $8,000 in this type of debt. If people would calculate the actual and ultimate cost of purchases they make on credit cards that carry exorbitant interest rates, their spending habits would most likely change. People would stay more within their means and delay big purchases until they could really afford them. An economy built on credit cards enables peoples to be blinded by their desires and not to calculate the true costs. This is not only a spending issue. People are often compelled to say or do something that feels good or right in the moment but turns out to be unhelpful or even detrimental in the bigger picture or in the longer term. This is how the Talmud’s homiletic interpretation overlaps with the literal reading. Had King Sichon taken a step back and looked at the bigger picture he could have realized that one potential outcome of his conquest of Cheshbon was that it would enable Bnei Yisrael to take it from him without violating the Divine edict not to battle with Moav. Sichon’s inability to “take an accounting” of all of the possible outcomes of his military action led to his defeat. Cheshbon Hanefesh, a personal accounting, is an important reflection tool, reviewing our past actions to learn lessons for the future. This pasuk in Chukat highlights the importance of Cheshbon Hanefesh as also a planning tool: a helpful way for us to consider all of the potential outcomes and to then act accordingly.  

Kids Hear Everything: Be Aware of the Consequences

 The story of Korach is both a tragedy and a learning opportunity. As the controversy heats up, it becomes clear to Moshe that the rabble rousers will soon experience a Divine punishment. Moshe told the elders to keep their distance from Datan, Aviram and anyone else associated with Korach’s rebellion. Then the Torah describes the scene right before the earth swallows up the rabble rousers (16:27): “So the elders withdrew from around the dwelling of Korah, Dathan, and Abiram, and Dathan and Abiram went out standing upright at the entrance of their tents together with their wives, their children, and their infants.” Rashi quotes Midrash Tanchuma that wonders why the Torah mentions the children and infants and explains: “Come and see the severity of machloket (dispute). The earthly courts do not punish until an accused has reached maturity, and the heavenly court does not punish until one reaches the age of twenty, but here even nursing babies were lost. The Maharal wonders why the children were punished in this instance, when the rule is that children are not liable for punishment. He explains by quoting the Midrash that both Gehinnom and Machloket were created on the second day of Creation. Maharal explains that once the children were exposed to the controversy of their parents, they became infected and ultimately suffered the same consequences as those who initiated the dispute. What these “children of the machloket” experienced was not a punishment but rather a consequence and a natural outcome of being exposed to dispute, discord and disrespect. While it is true that we do not hold children liable for their misdeeds, we cannot protect them from ill effects if their parents expose them to negative experiences. The episode of Korach was so severe that unfortunately the children who were exposed to it were also doomed, sharing in the fate of their parents. This is a lesson for all adults, and especially for parents. Children are heavily influenced by what they see and what they hear- especially from the adults in their lives. If a child hears or sees the adults in their lives acting with discord, dispute or disrespect it will have a profound and damaging impact on them, even as we do not blame them for those sins. If a child hears lashon hara, profanities or the degradation of communal institutions / leaders at their Shabbat table – we don’t blame them for the words but we cannot protect them from the moral and spiritual damage that may result nonetheless. In the pasuk I quoted earlier, the underlined phrase in Hebrew is מִשְׁכַּן קֹרַח דָּתָן וַאֲבִירָם  . It’s interesting that we refer to the encampment of Korach and his followers as a Mishkan. We normally associate the term Mishkan with the location of Divine Presence and inspiration. With the Maharal in mind, perhaps the Torah is teaching us that the home Is a Mishkan in that it contains tremendous potential. Our homes can be a place where values are exhibited and transmitted, or it can be where children learn to mimic the mistakes and foibles of the adults around them. The story of Korach reminds us of the responsibilities that each of us has to create a spiritually nurturing and uplifting environment- for ourselves and for the next generation. 

Love Can Make Us Do Crazy Things

As part of the punishment for the sin of the spies, that generation of Bnai Yisrael was barred entry into the Promised Land. As Hashem told Moshe (14:31) only the next generation would enter Eretz Yisrael “they shall know the land that you have despised.” This notion that the Jews of that time despised the Land is a sentiment repeated in Tehllim 106: וַיִּֽמְאֲסוּ בְּאֶ֣רֶץ חֶמְדָּ֑ה “they despised the desirable Land.” Rav Avraham Pam asked: How do we know that the Jews despised the Land of Israel? Perhaps they really loved the land but had no faith in Hashem, or maybe they had no faith in their ability to conquer the land. Maybe they were just afraid or unsure. Why does the Torah accuse them of despising the land? Rav Pam answered this question by citing a Halacha regarding gifting objects to a fetus that has not yet been born. The Talmud in Baba Batra states that even though we normally say Zachin L’Adam Shelo B’fanav that one can act on behalf of another entity for their benefit, even without their knowledge, that is not the case regarding a yet-unborn fetus. We say that the gift-giver is not sincere in his intentions to give, since the child is not yet born and there are plausible scenarios in which the child will not be born nor be able to receive the gift. A transaction under dubious circumstances is not binding. However the Talmud goes on to state that if a father gives a gift to his yet unborn biological child, such a gift is binding- even before birth. This is because a father has real love for his child even in utero. The possibility of something, God forbid, going wrong does not enter into his mind nor his calculations at all when it comes to his own child. Rav Pam goes on to explain that if the Jews had a deep relationship with the land then that love would have blinded them to the possibility of something bad happening. The fact that they were fixated on the possible problems is an indication that they were lacking in their love for Eretz Yisrael. King Solomon said (Mishlei 10:12) that love makes us do crazy things. Love also allows us to focus on the positive and gloss over the challenges and the problems, even when the problems are objectively obvious. There is certainly such a thing as constructive criticism. If we love someone or something then there may be ways and times when we must point out these shortcomings or these problems. But if we find ourselves focusing on problems then we must ask ourselves where is the love that would allow us to approach the problems from a different perspective? Israel is in the midst of a war with Iran. This war is of supreme, even existential, significance. Talking to people in Israel I hear their pride more than their fear. Rav Pam’s lesson about love struck me when watching a video clip of one of the first flights to land in Israel with Israelis who were desperate to return home. First it is important to take a moment to realize that in the midst of a war, thousands of people are desperate to return home and enter into a war zone. The video clip showed a flight attendant wrapped in an Israeli flag singing with the passengers with joy and determination. Love can make us do some crazy things. Love allows us to overlook many issues and problems. In this critical moment we each must ask ourselves whether there’s enough love in our lives- towards each other and towards Medinat Yisrael. 

No One Said it’s Supposed to be Easy

 Some people love IKEA furniture. I’ve had my issues with the desk we bought there. Admittedly, I am partly the cause of the problem. The desk came in a flat box in 25 pieces, I am sure that I did not properly construct it from the outset.. And if it’s not properly built initially, then you are bound to have subsequent. Full disclosure: 23 years later we still use that desk. The lesson is that things don’t have to be perfect in order to be sturdy. Nevertheless, it is true that the more pieces an object comes in, the less sturdy and impressive that object will be. In this morning’s Parsha we read about two objects that were impressively made from one single piece. The Parsha opens with the command directed towards Aharon to light the Menorah. Thereafter, the Torah provides a one-pasuk description of the menorah’s construction: “This is the workmanship of the Menorah: hammered out (Miksha) of one piece of gold; from its base to its flowers it is hammered out.” The fact that the Menorah was sculpted out of one piece of gold was a feat so impressive that even Moshe was stumped as to how the menorah was to be constructed. Later in the Parsha, we read about the Chatzotzrot. Moshe was commanded to make two silver trumpets. Here again the Torah specifies that the trumpets must be “miksha”, shaped out of a single piece of silver. And though not mentioned in our Parsha, there is one additional ritual object that had to be shaped from one piece: the Keruvim, which sat on top of the Aron had to also be Miksha. The word Miksha comes from the word Kasha, which means hard or difficult. To sculpt these elaborate objects can certainly be considered difficult. But why were these three items singled out for Miksha treatment? Is there any common thread between the Menorah, the trumpets and the Keruvim that can help shed light on this shared construction requirement? The key to understanding the Miksha factor is by seeking the symbolism inherent in each of the aforementioned items. The Menorah symbolizes Torah knowledge. The Talmud in Baba Batra learns from the position of the Menorah in the mishkan that Harotzeh Sheyachkim Yadrim: one who wants to become learned must orient towards the Menorah, on the southern wall of the Mikdash. The Gemara in Sukah (5b) states that the Keruvim resembled children. The chatzotzrot symbolize happiness. In this morning’s Torah reading, the last pasuk relating to the trumpets sums up the instances in which they were blown (10: 10). The sound of the chatzotzrot was supposed to both foster and express our feelings of joy. Torah, children and happiness: three of the most fundamental and essential aspects of our lives. Each stands on its own as an important pursuit, and yet they are inextricably entwined one with the other. One might think that as fundamentals, success in these areas should be easy. The Torah makes the point to tell us each instance: “Miksha Hi.” They’re hard to accomplish and hard to maintain. These three values seem to pull us in three different directions. Spending time learning Torah versus time spent with our families. The financial stress of paying for a Jewish education for our children, and how much happier we imagine we could be without that burden. Some people believe that such tensions and questions are symptoms of a lack faith and that the Torah has a clear answer for every situation. By examining the menorah, the chatzotzrot and the keruvim, we are better equipped to appreciate that at times the Torah’s lesson is to embrace the challenge and the tension. By specifying these three objects the Torah teaches us that even with goals as essential as Torah, family and joy, it’s OK to say “Miksha Hi.” By appreciating the inherent difficulties, may we merit to enjoy the full measure of Hashem’s blessing in all of these important facets of our life.

Opportunity Costs in Avodat Hashem

 In Judaism, the concept of sin is often misunderstood. We tend to think of an Aveira as actively doing something forbidden: violating a Halacha, hurting someone, or disobeying Hashem’s mitzvot. But Jewish tradition encourages us to see that the real tragedy of sin is not only in what we do wrong, but in what we could have done right instead. Every moment we spend on something spiritually negative is a moment we are not building, not learning, not growing, and not giving. The word the Torah uses for sin is "chet", which comes from the root meaning “to miss the mark.” It implies not only a mistake, but a failure to live up to one’s potential. Sin is not just a matter of breaking laws — it’s about misusing the precious, finite time and energy we’ve been given. An aveira is not simply a negative — it’s an absence of a positive. It’s not only that we did something wrong, but that we failed to do something right. This idea is echoed in the writings of the Vilna Gaon, who taught that every moment not used for Torah or mitzvot is a loss that can never truly be recovered. Similarly, Rav Tzadok HaKohen of Lublin taught that a person will be held accountable not just for the sins they committed, but for the Torah they could have learned and the mitzvot they could have performed instead. In a sense, this perspective raises the bar for us. Living a Torah life is not just about avoiding wrongdoing, but about actively pursuing good.  This is what David Hamelech is teaching us in Tehillim Chapter 34: “Who is the man who desires life, who loves days to see goodness? Guard your tongue from evil and your lips from speaking deceitfully. Shun evil and do good, seek peace and pursue it.” Avoiding evil is just the beginning. Life is really about doing good-deeds and seeking peace. It has been suggested that a physician’s first responsibility is “Do No Harm”. Even if that is in fact an important aspect of medicine, everyone agrees that doing no harm is merely the context in which healing and saving lives- the real purpose of medicine- can occur. Towards the beginning of Parshat Naso the Torah mentions the obligation of Viduy, confessing one’s sin as an integral step in the Teshuva process. The obligation is worded as follows (5:7): וְהִתְוַדּ֗וּ אֶת־חַטָּאתָם֘ אֲשֶׁ֣ר עָשׂוּ֒. “They shall confess the sin that they did.” The last two words seem superfluous- if you are confessing a sin, it’s obviously a sin that you did. The Kotzker Rebbe explained that the reason a person should not sin is not because it is forbidden or repulsive to the person. Rather a person should not sin because they have no time to sin. If a person sticks to a schedule of daily activities, Torah and mitzvot, they should have no time to do anything else. If a person sins, they must review their entire schedule and examine where they have been lax in allowing for “idle hands” which allows for the possibility of sin. This is how we should read the pasuk: One must confess their sin, and then they must consider what they could have and should have been doing instead of the sin. When we reflect on our mistakes, we should look beyond guilt and ask a more powerful question: What could I have been doing instead? That shift changes our relationship to sin and to life itself. It reminds us that each moment is an irrecoverable opportunity for kedusha.

Bamidbar Before Shavuot

 The Talmud in Megillah (31b) teaches that Ezra instituted to read in shul the blessings and curses from Parshat Ki Tavo before Rosh Hashanah so as to fulfill the doctrine of כְּדֵי שֶׁתִּכְלֶה הַשָּׁנָה וְקִלְלוֹתֶיהָ. “that the year may conclude together with its curses”. The Talmud adds that another aspect of Ezra’s decree was to read the blessings and curses from Parshat Bechukotai before Shavuot. The Talmud notes that the Mishnah in Rosh Hashana refers to Shavuot as the New Year for fruit, and therefore it’s appropriate to read the curses before this New Year begins. Tosfot in Megilah raises the question that usually (as is the case this year) we read Parshat Bamidbar on the Shabbat before Shavuot. (The same is true regarding Ki Tavo: we read it two weeks before Rosh Hashanah). Why don’t we fulfill Ezra’s edict immediately prior to the start of the New Year? Tosfot suggest that the curses are so severe and disconcerting that we schedule a “buffer Shabbat” before celebrating the New Year. However commentators have suggested more intrinsic connections between Parshat Bamidbar and Shavuot. The Talmud in Nedarim (55) teaches that Torah is able to maximally impact those who “make themselves like a Midbar.” Just as a desert is sparse, so too a person who is humble is best suited to absorb the Torah’s lessons. While we must have Jewish pride and be proud that the Torah is ours, Parshat Bamidbar reminds us that the Torah’s way is to adopt a healthy dose of humility. The Chidah (in Nachal Kedumim) writes that the Gematriya of the words במדבר סיני is the same as the word “Shalom”.  Peace and harmony is both a prerequisite for receiving the Torah as well as an outcome of keeping the Torah. Violence in the name of religion is anathema to Jewish tradition. Before receiving it every year, Parshat Bamidbar reminds us that the paths of Torah are peaceful. Rabbi Moshe Feinstein noted that Sefer Bamidbar is referred to as Numbers, Chumash HaPekudim. We count something (or someone) that is valuable and important to us. An appropriate way to prepare for Matan Torah is to be reminded through the Parsha that every single Jew is valuable. Every single Jew is counted because every Jew counts. When we find ourselves part of a large crowd sometimes we think that we don’t really matter, or that our contributions are not necessary. We might say to ourselves “someone else will make the shiva minyan” or “someone else will contribute to the shul” or “someone else will invite that person over for a Shabbat or Yom Tov meal.” We prepare to accept the Torah by remembering that each of us counts and each of our contributions are indispensable.  Parshat Bamidbar also teaches the specifics of the encampment. The lesson is that life is meant to be lived in community and shared with others. We may be individuals but we greatly benefit from camaraderie. Therefore we must choose our company wisely. Parshat Bamidbar reminds us before Shavuot to share our lives with people who are growth oriented and who embrace the Torah. We  embrace our individuality as we grow together in the pursuit of meaning.

The Best Self-Help Advice: Help Others

 Martin Luther King Jr. said the “surest way to be happy is to seek happiness for others.” Research published by a team of psychologists at the University of Missouri-Columbia suggests that our own happiness is, indeed, influenced by the kindness and generosity we show others. In one study, participants were approached on the street after parking their cars. They were given a few quarters by a research assistant and were asked to either feed their own parking meters or the meters of an adjacent car. The researchers then asked participants how happy they felt. Interestingly, people who fed others’ meters showed a greater boost in happiness than those who fed their own meters, despite not knowing who they were helping. In another experiment, the researchers asked participants to either recall a time they tried to make someone else happy or themselves. Participants were asked to write a few sentences describing the event and rate how happy it made them feel. Again, participants who were prompted to recall a time they tried to improve the happiness of someone else reported higher levels of remembered happiness than those who wrote about a time when they tried to improve their own happiness. The research squares with other studies showing how spending money on others increases one’s happiness more than spending money on oneself. But it’s not just financial generosity that has the power to increase our happiness — donating our time to someone in need, or simply adopting a mentality that puts others’ happiness above our own, has a positive impact on our psychological well-being. The researchers offer a good explanation for why they saw the results they did. They suggest that it has to do with our basic psychological need for “relatedness,” or feeling close to others. According to the researchers, an attempt to make another person happy inspires feelings of closeness which, in turn, explains why people end up feeling happy themselves. In relating the prohibition of charging interest to a fellow Jew, the Torah in Parshat Behar states (25:35): וְכִֽי־יָמ֣וּךְ אָחִ֔יךָ וּמָ֥טָה יָד֖וֹ עִמָּ֑ךְ וְהֶֽחֱזַ֣קְתָּ בּ֔וֹ. “If your brother becomes destitute and his hand falters beside you, you shall support him”. According to typical Hebrew grammar the correct word for “him” is “Oto”. The word “Bo” usually means “in it” or “through him”. The Skulene Rebbe explained that this pasuk hints at the fact that by helping the person in need you are really supporting and strengthening yourself. Over the years many thinkers, including Kant, Nietzsche, and Freud, have pondered whether humans can act in a purely altruistic manner or are there always ulterior motives when humans do good towards others. From a torah perspective the question is moot. As indicated by the pasuk in our Parsha, feeling good about doing good deeds for others is not a flaw, it’s a feature. As we close the Aron we say the pasuk from Mishlei “עֵץ־חַיִּ֣ים הִ֖יא לַמַּחֲזִיקִ֣ים בָּ֑הּ” Torah is a tree of life for those who take grasp of it. The Chofetz Chaim points out that according to proper grammar, the correct Hebrew word should be “Otah” and not “Bah”. By using this terminology we are reminding ourselves that by engaging in Torah we are strengthening ourselves. Torah is the best Self-Help book out there, because it emphasizes the fact that we are best helped when we help others.

Be Careful with Your Excuses

 Midrash Rabbah (Vayikra 26) tells a story of how Hashem gave Moshe a “sneak peak” into the Jewish future and showed Moshe the main characters, both heroes and villains, of each future generation. Among the images Moshe was shown was the image of King Shaul, first king of Israel, lying next to his son Yonatan and both mortally wounded by Philistine swords. Moved by this vision, Moshe asked Hashem what Shaul had done to deserve such a heinous punishment. Hashem responded that Moshe could talk to the Kohanim (the tie-in with the first words of this week’s Parsha: Emor El HaKohanim) and the Kohanim would tell you that Shaul was liable for a harsh punishment due to his role in the massacre at Nov, a city of Kohanim (as described in Shmuel I: 6). Many have a hard time understanding this midrash. They point out that later in Shmuel I:15 we read how Shaul leads the battle against Amalek. While the prophet told Shaul to destroy everyone and everything associated with Amalek, King Shaul spared Agag, the king of Amalek. The prophet Shmuel confronts Shaul about this lapse and subsequently tells Shaul that he will be punished due to this sin of omission. If The Navi himself says that Shaul is punished for sparing King Agag, then how can the Midrash say that Shaul is punished for destroying the city of Nov? Rabbi Frand quotes an answer from the Sefer HaDrash VehaIyun. It is true that Shaul was punished for sparing the life of King Agag. However Shaul, or his defenders, could have justified his doing so by arguing that Shaul naturally had a soft heart. The argument could have been that Shaul was too compassionate and therefore could not bring himself to slay the Amalekite king. While such a defense would not have completely exonerated Shaul (after all, he still was in violation of a prophetic demand) it could have nonetheless mitigated his sin and softened his punishment. However the massacre at Nov shut down the possibility of any such defense. Shaul demonstrated at Nov that he did not naturally have a soft heart. His sin of sparing Agag was NOT due to an innate sense of compassion; it was completely unjustified and therefore liable for the full brunt of his deserved punishment.  This explanation is something that we need all need to seriously consider and confront in our own lives. There are times in life when we do not live up to the Torah’s expectations or even to our own expectations. Sometimes we will make a compelling excuse for why we did not live up to those expectations. The Midrash is cautioning us to be honest with ourselves about the veracity of those justifications. For instance, a person may justify not volunteering to do chesed because they claim that they have no free time. If that is indeed the case, then perhaps that is a valid justification. However if they find time to engage in leisure or social activities, then that justification becomes suspect and perhaps even an indictment. A person may explain their lack of attendance at minyan or at shiurim is due to a lack of time and conflicting responsibilities. That might be a valid justification. However if that person finds the time for other discretionary activities, like going to the gym or getting together with friends, then their justification should be reevaluated. Just as we feel a need to find the time to work out our bodies, so too we should feel the need to work out our minds and our souls. Just as we feel the need to connect to friends, so too we should feel the need to connect to Hashem and to Am Yisrael. The Torah does not expect us to be superhuman. There are times when we may be exempt from one priority due to our responsibilities towards other priorities. The Midrash at the beginning of Emor reminds us that this only works when we are honest with ourselves and when we have given serious thought to what our life priorities should be.

How We Behave When No One is Looking

 Three of the Mitzvot in Parshat Kedoshim are: 1) Do not curse the deaf or put a stumbling block in the front of the blind; 2) do not hate another person in your heart; 3) and do not have inaccurate weights and measures. At first glance there is no connection between these three prohibitions. However, upon further reflection you realize that all three of these Mitzvot are examples of prohibitions that we could violate and get away with. If I curse the deaf, he can’t hear me. The blind person cannot see who put the stumbling block in front of him. I can hate anyone in my heart without that person or anyone else ever knowing. And if I am a storekeeper and have inaccurate weights and measures, chances are that I could get away with it most of the time. There are three reasons why even if I won’t get caught, these actions are still wrong and must be avoided. First, whether I get caught or not these actions are still hurtful and harmful to the victim. By placing a stumbling block in front of the blind, I am physically hurting him. By having inaccurate weights and measures I am financially harming someone. And cursing the deaf or hating someone in my heart will have a negative impact on the way that person is treated by me and others. Second, even if no other human being catches what I did wrong, Hashem will always know. Perhaps this is why after each of these three Mitzvot the Torah reminds us: “Ani Hashem” “I am G-d”. Hashem is telling us that even if no one else knows what we did, He certainly does and will deal with us accordingly. Lastly, these actions are wrong even if I won’t get caught because of the negative impact that it will have on me. The purpose of the Mitzvot is to make me a better person. Doing a mitzva in public for all to see is a wonderful thing. But even more wonderful is when a person does a Mitzvah when no one is around to see it or to congratulate me.  At the beginning of this week’s Parsha, we read about the gifts to the poor known as Leket, Shikcha and Peah. A field owner must leave some of his crop in his field after the harvest so that poor people can come and take what they need. The field owner does not know the recipient of his charity. It’s also entirely possible that the poor who take this charity do not know who actually owns the field. To give tzedaka in a way that the giver and recipient both remain anonymous is considered by the Rambam as one of the highest forms of Tzedaka. Here again we see an example of a mitzva being performed without any fanfare, and it is considered to be one of the best ways to fulfill it. Just as it is important to perform Mitzvot in public when the spotlight is on us, so too it is important for us to appreciate the value of private and anonymous Mitzvot, when no one is looking. Just as we must be careful to avoid a public Chilul Hashem, we must also avoid bad behavior when no one is looking and when we might be able to get away with it.

Who Doesn’t Like To Celebrate a Birthday Twice?

 This year, we celebrated Yom Haatzmaut on Thursday. Today, Shabbat, is the 5th of Iyar. It was on this date in 1948 that David Ben Gurion declared the creation of the State of Israel.  

The 5th of Iyar can only fall on Monday, Wednesday, Friday or Shabbat. Initially, the Chief Rabbinate ruled that when the 5th of Iyar falls on either Friday or Shabbat, Yom Ha’atzmaut should be moved up to the preceding Thursday. Later, the Chief Rabbinate observed that whenever Yom Ha’atzmaut fell on a Monday, the preparations for Yom Hazikaron, which would begin on Saturday night, would inevitably result in chilul Shabbat. Therefore, the Chief Rabbinate decided that both Yom Hazikaron and Yom Ha’atzmaut would be pushed off by one day. In other words, Yom Hazikaron would occur on Monday, 5 Iyar, and Yom Ha’atzmaut would take place on Tuesday, 6 Iyar. It emerges that when Yom Ha’atzmaut falls out on three out of its four possible days, it is not observed on the 5^th of Iyar. A precedent for this is Purim Meshulash. When Shushan Purim falls on Shabbat, they read the Megilah in Jerusalem on Friday and eat their Purim Seuda on Sunday, but they say Al Hanisim and read the Torah reading for Purim on Shabbat. By Purim, the essence of the day itself is not postponed. Instead, only those mitzvot which are likely to lead to chilul Shabbat are moved up or delayed. However, mitzvot which have no negative impact on Shabbat i.e. Al HaNissim and the Torah reading for Purim, are not postponed. What about by Yom Haatzmaut? Modern Poskim grapple with these considerations. In 1981, Rav Goren concluded that when Yom Ha’atzmaut falls on Friday or Shabbat, Hallel should be recited on Shabbat, because it can be without leading to chilul Shabbat. Other Rabbis did not make Rav Goren’s distinction and postponed all of the day’s mitzvot to the changed date.  What about in America? Perhaps the Diaspora should celebrate on 5 Iyar, no matter what, because there are no national celebrations that could potentially result in chilul Shabbat. On the other hand, since the holiday’s essence was derived from the Chief Rabbinate of Israel, perhaps Jews worldwide are obligated to follow the Chief Rabbinate’s ruling. Rav Gedalia Dov Schwartz, the Av Beit Din of the CRC, ruled that Yom Ha’atzmaut should be observed on the 5th of Iyar, no matter what.. Although other American Rabbis followed the Chief Rabbinate’s ruling, he felt that the reasons behind the postponement did not apply in the diaspora. Yet, when the Chief Rabbi of Israel requested that Rav Schwartz change his ruling, he did so graciously. And the Jews of Chicago followed the ruling of the Chief Rabbinate as of 2004. Here in Hollywood we said Hallel on Thursday as they did in Israel. I believe doing so is an opportunity to demonstrate the deep and intrinsic connection that we should all feel to Israel and to how Judaism is practiced there. This may be even more relevant as we reach the point where a majority of worldwide Jewry lives in Israel. In addition to its being a demonstration of Jewish unity and care for Israel, Rav Tzvi Yehuda Kook stressed that advancing Yom Ha’atzmaut from Shabbat to the preceding Thursday is a remarkable Kiddush Hashem. The date change indicates that the Jewish State is thereby refraining from chilul Shabbat, which is a public and prominent Kiddush Hashem. Who doesn’t like to celebrate a birthday twice? How fortunate are we to celebrate Israel’s 77^th birthday; not just on Thursday, Yom Haatzmaut, but today as well on the 5^th of Iyar.

From Yom Hashoah to Yom Ha’Atzmaut

We find two curious exchanges between Moshe and Aharon “BaYom HaShemini,” on the eighth day of the inauguration of the newly constructed Mishkan. Chazal explain that this day was as joyous as the day in which Hashem created heaven and earth (Megillah 10b). Amidst this incredible joy, tragedy suddenly struck as Nadav and Avihu, the sons of Aharon, are abruptly killed for bringing a foreign fire into the Mishkan. In the first exchange, Moshe tells Aharon that Hashem referred to his sons' deaths as being sanctified by those who were closest to Hashem(10:3). In response to this, “VaYidom Aharon”, Aharon remained silent. In the second exchange, Moshe instructs Aharon and his family not to observe the typical mourning rituals and to instead continue with the Mishkan service (10:6), Moshe discovers that the sons of Aharon disobeyed Moshe and decided not to eat one of the sin-offerings. Instead, they burned it on the altar. Moshe asks the Kohanim why they did not consume the Korban Chattat, and Aharon responds with a respectful counter-argument which Moshe accepts (10:19-20). My friend and colleague Rabbi Chaim Poupko suggested that in these two exchanges we find two different responses to suffering. In the first, Aharon remained silent; he can do nothing but accept the harsh Divine decree against his two sons. His silence is an expression of “Baruch Dayan HaEmet,” that Hashem is the true Judge, without complaining or seeking to understand. Aharon exemplified what Rav Soloveitchik refers to as “the man of fate”: a person who stands perplexed and confused before the greatest of mysteries; the mysteries of suffering and why bad things happen to good people. In the second exchange, Moshe embodied what the Rav describes as “the man of destiny.” When Moshe points out that the sons of Aharon neglected the proper procedure for the sin-offering Moshe is encouraging a different response to tragedy; not silence like the man of fate, but action and a sense of purpose. Rav Soloveotchik explains that this type of response is emblematic of “the man of destiny”: willing to confront the environment in which suffering is occurring and makes every effort to find a path through that suffering. The Rav used these two concepts of fate and destiny to understand the relationship between the Holocaust, which we commemorated on Yom Hashoah, and the establishment of the State of Israel, which we will celebrate Wednesday night on Yom Ha’Atzmaut. Responding theologically to the Holocaust is very difficult. Perhaps the best response is that of the man of fate. Instead of any explanation or answers, all we have is confusion, bewilderment, and silence. However, rising from the ashes of the Holocaust came the building of the State of Israel. Yom Ha’Atzamut and Medinat Yisrael represent a response by the man of destiny: to seek a path through which the suffering of the Holocaust has a purpose, even if it remains without explanation. As a survivor of the Holocaust, Rav Yehuda Amital (founding Rosh Yeshiva of Gush) was a living embodiment of these two attitudes. In 1985, he addressed his students at an event celebrating the 40th anniversary of his arrival to Israel. He spoke to them candidly about why he chose to celebrate his salvation from the Holocaust together with his Aliyah. Since he cannot answer the question of “why me?” he cannot celebrate his salvation from the Holocaust alone; he can celebrate it only in conjunction with his Aliyah to Israel. As Rav Amital said: “These doubts plague me until this day. Clearly, the answer lies in the hands of God, and because I do not know the answer, I do not have the boldness to designate a specific day as a holiday because I was saved. Thus I combine both focal points of my life, my salvation and my Aliyah, into one personal holiday. And yet... I still feel that heavy burden.” We can follow in Rav Amital’s footsteps by embracing both the man of fate and the man of destiny within each of us and meaningfully marking this transition from Yom Hashoah to Yom Ha’Atzmaut. 

Living Lives of Heroism

 On the Seventh Day of Pesach, we note the heroes that emerged on that very first Shevii shel Pesach on the shores of the Red Sea. Though he is not mentioned explicitly in the text, the most famous hero of today’s story is Nachshon ben Aminadav. We have all heard how Nachshon took the initiative to enter the waters when everyone else was reluctant to do so. As the waters reached his nose, God initiated the miracle that split the Sea. According to our Rabbis (Bamidbar Rabba 13:9) Nachshon’s name is derived from Nichshol, which means stormy waters.  Nachshon acted like a hero, because a hallmark of a hero is one who takes initiative when no one else is willing to; a hero acts in a way that is necessary even when it is not popular. The Heroic Imagination Project is a non-profit organization that focuses on teaching people to become heroes, or as they put it “To teach individuals the skills and awareness needed to make effective decisions in challenging situations.” The Project identifies 4 key elements of heroism:

1)      It's voluntary 2) It is done in the service of people or communities in need 3) It involves some type of risk, either physical, social, or in terms of quality of life 4) It is done without the need for recompense or material gain.

The actions of Nachshon at the sea encompass all of these elements.  Jewish tradition offers two more traits of a hero. Pirkei Avot teaches: Ayzehu Gibor Hakovesh et yitzro: A Hero is one that conquers his/her natural inclination. Instead of heroic action always being found in grandiose initiative, Jewish heroics can be found in holding ourselves back. As Rav Soloveitchik (whose yahrzeit was this past Wednesday) wrote in an essay (Catharsis pg 42): “The heroic person, according to our view, does not succumb to frenzy or excitement. Biblical heroism is not ecstatic but rather contemplative; not loud but hushed; not dramatic or spectacular but mute.”

If we want to do something but we know that it is bad for someone else or for our soul and we refrain from doing it - that’s not just righteous- that’s heroic. For instance, when someone says something to you that you construe as insulting or insensitive, and you “hold your tongue” – you have acted heroically.  Avot D’Rav Natan (23:1) offers a second characteristic of being a Jewish hero: Mi Sheoseh Soneh Ohavo: a hero who works to change enemies into friends. Conventional wisdom sees heroes as acting independently on behalf of others. The Jewish view is that a hero is one that broadens the boundaries of community. By turning enemies into friends, heroes value inclusivity, thereby increasing the size and quality of the community.

Each of us can and must be a hero. Sometimes we may have a Nachshon moment, when we are called upon to do something extraordinary or unpopular. If/ when that happens we hope that Hashem gives us the strength to do the right thing. But until that opportunity presents itself, let us remember the hallmarks of the everyday hero: Kovesh Et Yitzro, i.e. exhibiting self-control. And Mi She’oseh Soneh- Ohavo: concerning ourselves with others, even those on the periphery, and appreciating the strength of a diverse community. By doing so, let us realize that instead of undertaking heroic action sporadically, Shevii shel Pesach teaches us that we have opportunities on an ongoing basis to live our lives as heroes.