Friday, October 20, 2017

Jews, Halloween and Noah's Tzohar

One of the challenges that Jewish parents confront this time of year is explaining to their children why we don’t celebrate Halloween. Halloween is not a Jewish holiday. It has pagan origins. Though today most people view it as a secular holiday, its religious origins are still known to some. That is why it is inappropriate for Jewish families to celebrate Halloween in any fashion. (For an interesting treatment of this topic from a Jewish lens, see here )

I like to point out the major difference between October 31st and the 14th of Adar- Purim. On October 31st people dress up and children knock on people’s doors, asking for candy. On Purim the mitzvah is to knock on people’s doors and GIVE OTHERS mishloach manot. Looking at the bigger picture, we should encourage opportunities for our children to act in selfless and giving ways; and we should be careful to avoid situations that increase our children’s sense of entitlement. 

An interesting question is raised whether it is appropriate to distribute candy to those who come to your door on October 31st? On this issue, I suggest we follow the examples of Rabbi Yaakov Kaminetsky and Rabbi Avrohom Pam. 
In Artscroll’s biography about Rav Kamintesky, (Reb Yaakov, pg 243) it notes:
Someone was visiting Reb Yaakov, shortly after he moved to Monsey, when someone Halloween trick-or-treating rang the bell. (Monsey was not yet the largely Jewish town that it is today.) The man assumed that Reb Yaakov would not be familiar with such a non-Jewish custom from his years living in Williamsburg and hastened to explain to him what the children wanted. But Reb Yaakov was not only familiar with Halloween, the Rebbetzin had already prepared bags of sweets for any child that might ring.
The following story was recorded a few years ago by Rabbi Akiva Males:
My father-in-law studied in Rav Pam’s shiur in Mesivta Torah Vodaas for several years back in the 1960s.
“When my wife’s older sister became engaged in the 1990s, my in-laws took my (future) sister-in-law and my (future) brother-in-law over to meet Rav and Rebbitzen Pam and receive their bracha and good wishes. It was October 31st. In contrast to the many Jewish homes around the Pams who had turned off their lights to discourage trick-or-treaters, the Pams left their front light on. While they all chatted with Rav Pam in the dining room, his Rebbitzen was in the kitchen working the hot-air popcorn popper and preparing plastic baggies of popcorn to give out with a smile to all the local non-Jewish kids who knocked at their door.”

                
In its description of the ark in Parshat Noach, the Torah tells us about the Tzohar (6:16). The Tzohar was a window. Generally, windows serve two functions: let the light in from outside and keep the outside conditions from getting in. Rashi quotes an idea that the Tzohar was a gem that illuminated the ark. This makes sense, as during the flood there was no light from outside. The Tzohar was both protective and illuminating. As Jews we must learn these lessons from the Tzohar. We need to create boundaries between ourselves and other religions/ secular culture. At the same time, we must be on the lookout for ways in which we can be an Ohr Lagoyim, a light onto the nations by living our Jewish values in ways that are noteworthy to the world at large.

Friday, August 25, 2017

Steve Bartman, Eglah Arufah and Collective Responsibility

It was October 14, 2003, Game 6 of Major League Baseball’s National League Championship Series. The Chicago Cubs were playing the (then) Florida Marlins at Wrigley Field. The Cubs led the series 3-2. With one out in the top of the 8th inning, the Cubs were 5 outs away from winning their first National League pennant since 1945. Marlins second baseman Luis Castillo was at bat, and he hit a foul ball to the left side. Left fielder Moises Alou seemed poised to catch the ball in foul territory, but a man wearing headphones and a Cubs hat reached up to grab the foul ball. 

That man’s name is Steve Bartman. As a result, Alou was unable to make the play. Cubs fans fed off of Alou’s response and began showering Bartman with abuse. Ultimately, Steve Bartman had to be escorted out of Wrigley Field that night by security, for his own safety. . The Cubs ended up blowing their three-run lead and losing Game 6. When the Cubs went on to lose Game 7, people began to point to that fan’s interference as the turning point that led to the Cubs meltdown.  

People continued to threaten Steve Bartman until very recently. Alex Gibney, writer and producer of an ESPN film about the Bartman episode, notes that things did not have to be that way. Fans could have let the episode go. They could have turned their attention to cheering on their home team, instead of focusing on the foul ball. Instead, the irony was that Cubs fans went to a really dark place at the stadium known as “The Friendly Confines.”

Last month, the Cubs gave Steve Bartman a 2016 World Series Championship ring. In explaining the gift, Cubs owner Tom Ricketts said:
We hope this provides closure on an unfortunate chapter of the story that has perpetuated throughout our quest to win a long-awaited World Series. While no gesture can fully lift the public burden he has endured for more than a decade, we felt it was important Steve knows he has been and continues to be fully embraced by this organization. After all he has sacrificed, we are proud to recognize Steve Bartman with this gift today.”

In accepting the ring, Steve Bartman issued a statement, which read in part:
I am relieved and hopeful that the saga of the 2003 foul ball incident surrounding my family and me is finally over. I humbly receive the ring not only as a symbol of one of the most historic achievements in sports, but as an important reminder for how we should treat each other in today's society.”

In this week’s Parsha we read about the mysterious mitzvah of Eglah Arufah. There is an unsolved murder outside the city limits. The elders of the closest cities come together for a ceremony in which they declare that (21:7) “our hands did not spill this blood.” Do we really think that these distinguished leaders had anything to do with the murder?

From this mitzvah we learn the importance of collective responsibility. The elders do not say, “we didn’t do it, it’s not our problem.” Rather they declare that an unsolved murder is a problem for everyone, and everyone must do their part to address the problem.

For a long time Cubs fans scapegoated Steve Bartman. They engaged in magical thinking, fooling themselves that Bartman’s alleged interference caused them to lose, instead of assigning the blame to where it rightfully belonged (or not assigning any blame and just moving on with life.) I am glad that when the Cubs won a championship, team officials took responsibility for the behavior of their fans, and tried in some small way to make amends.


As a community we need to live the lesson of Eglah Arufah and collective responsibility. Even if we are not personally impacted by a problem, we must be sensitive, aware and prepared to address these challenge to the best of our abilities. 

Friday, August 11, 2017

The Challenge of Privilege

In Parshat Ekev Moshe describes the mahn (miraculous manna from heaven) as a test.
זָֽכַרְתָּ֣ אֶת־כָּל־הַדֶּ֗רֶךְ אֲשֶׁ֨ר הוֹלִֽיכְךָ֜ יְהֹוָ֧ה אֱלֹהֶ֛יךָ זֶ֛ה אַרְבָּעִ֥ים שָׁנָ֖ה בַּמִּדְבָּ֑ר לְמַ֨עַן עַנֹּֽתְךָ֜ לְנַסֹּֽתְךָ֗ לָדַ֜עַת אֶת־אֲשֶׁ֧ר בִּלְבָֽבְךָ֛ הֲתִשְׁמֹ֥ר מִצְו‍ֹתָ֖יו (כתיב מצותו) אִם־לֹֽא:
And you shall remember the entire way on which the Lord, your God, led you these forty years in the desert, in order to afflict you to test you, to know what is in your heart, whether you would keep His commandments or not

In what way was eating manna from Heaven a test? Many commentators such as Rashi and Ramban, focus on how the manna experience tested our faith in G-d. There were specific restrictions on how to collect the manna that tested our faith in Hashem: only a certain amount, double on Fridays, no collecting on Shabbat. Furthermore no manna could be left over for the next day- meaning that the Jews went to bed each night in the desert with their cupboards completely bare; and they were totally dependent on G-d, with no natural way to provide for themselves the next day.
                
The Seforno explains the test of manna differently, in a very brief yet powerful comment he writes:
אם תעשה רצונו בהשיגך לחם ושמלה שלא בצער:
                “The test is in whether you will do G-d’s will when He provides food and clothing for you without pain, without effort.”

According to Seforno, the test of manna was the challenge of privilege. How would Bnai Yisrael handle a situation in which they had everything they needed without doing anything? In general, the Torah advocates for success built upon hard work. For example, later in the Parsha we read the second paragraph of the Shema. In it, the Torah promises that if we do what is right then “Veasafta Deganech” as reward we will have the opportunity to reap abundant harvests. Surely we value and appreciate those things for which we work hard. What about their response to the manna? The people didn’t do anything to get it. G-d provided, literally, bread from heaven. How would Bnai Yisrael relate to such a privilege? This was the test of the manna according to Seforno. This is as much a test today as it was in the desert.


Thank G-d, compared to previous centuries and other parts of the world, we all live privileged lives, some of us more so than others. The episode of the manna reminds us that privilege brings with it certain challenges. Adversity will often lead one to G-d, either in prayer or in accusation. Privilege challenges us not to forget G-d’s role in the world and in our lives. Privilege challenges us to maintain proper priorities and to continue to strive for greater things. Privilege challenges us to live lives of spiritual wealth, on par with our material blessings.

Friday, August 4, 2017

Asking Big Questions

I was a hard working and conscientious student in school. My one weakness was in the area of class participation. I would not participate in class discussions as often as I had ideas to contribute. And I would not raise my hand to ask questions as often as I might have had something to ask. Sometimes I would wait and hope someone else from the class would ask the questions. Other times I would ask the teacher after class. And sometimes, unfortunately, I would never get an answer because I never asked. This tendency may have been due in part to an inherent shyness. But mostly it was due to a fear of embarrassment. Too often, the possibility of feeling embarrassed by asking a “dumb question” (whatever that means) was greater than my desire to find out the answer. Often before opening my mouth in class I would spend a good amount of time confirming with myself that my question or comment was good enough for me to ask. By the time that process concluded, the class was often on the next topic or the bell may have rung, ending the class.

David Packard, co-founder of Hewlett Packard once said “Take risks. Ask big questions. Don't be afraid to make mistakes; if you don't make mistakes, you're not reaching far enough.”

In this week’s Parsha, Vaetchanan, Moshe prays to God to be allowed entry into the Land of Israel. And God denies his request. There is an amazing Midrash Rabba on this episode:
אָמַר רַבִּי שְׁמוּאֵל בַּר יִצְחָק, כֵּיוָן שֶׁנָּטָה משֶׁה לָמוּת וְלֹא בִּקְּשׁוּ עָלָיו רַחֲמִים שֶׁיִּכָּנֵס לָאֶרֶץ, כִּנֵּס אוֹתָן וְהִתְחִיל מוֹכִיחָן, אָמַר לָהֶם אֶחָד פָּדָה שִׁשִּׁים רִבּוֹא בְּעֵגֶל, וְשִׁשִּׁים רִבּוֹא לֹא הָיוּ יְכוֹלִין לִפְדוֹת אָדָם אֶחָד, הֲרֵי וְלֹא נָתַן ה' לָכֶם לֵב לָדַעַת,
After the decree was sealed that Moshe would die, and the people did not pray for him, Moshe gathered the nation and rebuked them. He said to them, “one man was able to save 600,000 people, and yet 600,000 people were unable to save one man.”

According to tradition, Moshe prayed 515 times to God to enter the Land of Israel, without success. Yet this Midrash teaches that had the people prayed for Moshe, God would have relented- changing the course of not only Moshe’s life, but the destiny of the Jewish People. For we are taught that had Moshe led the people into Israel, the Messianic era would have immediately begun.
So why didn’t Bnei Yisrael pray for Moshe? The Sefas Emes explains that they rationalized: if Moshe’s prayers were not effective, then certainly our prayers will not be effective.
The people didn’t appreciate the power of their prayers. Put another way, they were too timid or too scared to go big and make a big request. History could have been much different had the nation taken a risk and asked big.

I wish that as a student I had taken more risks and asked more big questions. Then again, it’s never too late.
On my computer screen is a Post It Note. On it is a challenge that I hope to live up to and one that I hope becomes part of our synagogue culture:
“A culture of greatness; not one of complaining or sitting on the sidelines waiting to point out mistakes. A culture that encourages risk taking and progress, working from consensus and staying mission driven.”


As we transition from the mourning of the Three Weeks to the Hope of Shabbat Nachamu, let us commit to asking big questions and taking risks that spur growth and achievement. 

Friday, July 21, 2017

Life is a Journey, Not a Destination

The Parsha opens with a list of all of the 42 stops that Bnei Yisrael made during their forty years of wandering in the desert.  Why doesn’t the Torah just tell us the original starting point and the eventual destination? We don't even know what happened at each place that is enumerated, so why specify each one?

Rashi quotes Rabbi Tanchuma who explains by means of a parable. A king had a son who was sick, and the king took him to a distant place to receive the cure. On their way back, the king recounted to his son all of their journeys together. “This is where we slept. Here it was cold. Over there you had a headache.” The king wanted his son to appreciate that not only was the final result- the son’s recovery- important. But the process had significance as well. So too in Parshat Masei, the Torah recounts each stop in the desert as a reminder that there is significance not only in the destination, but in the process as well.

This is a critical lesson to learn as we find ourselves in the weeks and days leading up to Tisha B’Av. Certainly the main focus of this period is mourning for the destruction of the Beit Hamikdash and praying for its rebuilding with the Messianic Age- the destination (if you will) of human history. But can we find meaning in the process? Is there a way to be positively impacted by the Three Weeks even as we still wait for the final destination of Yemot Hamashiach?

The Three Weeks are an opportunity for us to remind ourselves that even before we arrive at our hoped-for destination, we must find meaning and purpose in all of our experiences along the journey.

Friday, July 14, 2017

Shleimut (Self-Fulfillment) and Shalom (Interpersonal Peace): You Can't Have One Without the Other

Parshat Pinchas begins with Pinchas' act of zealotry followed by God's endorsement and reward for that act. 

Therefore, say, "I hereby give him My covenant of peace. יבלָכֵן אֱמֹר הִנְנִי נֹתֵן לוֹ אֶת בְּרִיתִי שָׁלוֹם:

In the Torah scroll, the letter vav of the word “Shalom” is cracked. Rav Zevin explains that the cracked vav allows us to think about the similarities and differences between the words “Shalom”, peace, and Shalem, whole. 

Both indicate a fulfilled state of being. However Shalem refers to an individual whereas Shalom refers to the relationship between two or more objects or people. 

The broken Vav highlights the difficulties that can exist in trying to get along with others and achieve Shalom, peace. It is often easier to achieve self-fulfillment for oneself than it is to achieve peace in our interpersonal relationships. Yet we cannot take the easy way out. For true personal fulfillment must include peace among all of our relationships: family, friends, and neighbors. 

There can be no real Sheleimut (self fulfillment) without Shalom (interpersonal peace). And the broken Vav in Shalom reminds us just how elusive, yet essential, peace is.

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Friday, July 7, 2017

The Art of Saying No and Importance of Taking No for an Answer

At the beginning of the Parsha, there is an exchange between Hashem and Bilam that is difficult to understand.
First Hashem tells Bilam that he cannot go with Balak’s emissaries. So Bilam turns them away.
But then a second more dignified entourage comes to ask Bilam to reconsider. This time when Bilam asks Hashem says OK.
As Bilam is on his way, an angel stops him and informs Bilam that Hashem is angry, because he decided to go to Balak.
Two questions jump out:
1) Why does Hashem change His tune- first telling Bilam he can’t go and then saying that he can go?
2)Once Hashem tells Bilam that he can go, why does he get angry with Bilam for going?

Rabbi Jonathan Sacks suggests that the entirety of the Divine Will is expressed the first night when Bilam presents the request: G-d unequivocally answers: Lo Telech Imahem.” Period. End of Discussion.

Then Bilam, due to greed and ego, comes back the next night and asks Hashem again. The answer is the same: Hashem does not want Bilam to go. Nevertheless it is clear Bilam wants to go. And we have a fundamental belief, expressed by the Rabbis and quoted by Rashi:
“Bderech SheAdam Rotzeh Leylech Bah Molichin Oto.”
G-d’s not going to stop you from doing something that you want to do- even when He’s against it. 

So Hashem is consistent. He doesn’t want Bilam to go. But G-d only speaks once. Bilam chooses not to listen, so when Hashem is approached again He tells Bilam, “Go- ie do what you want.” And when Bilam indeed does what he wants, Hashem stops him by means of the angel to make sure Bilam understands G-d’s displeasure at the situation.

In this light I can understand the importance of this episode. We can learn a great deal about the importance of saying no, as well as taking no for an answer.
For many our tendency is to always say yes. It’s usually more fun and always easier to just say yes. But there are times when we must say no. We must say no to others in order that we don’t overextend ourselves. Saying no can help strengthen our values, strengthen our identity, and strengthen our confidence.

We must sometimes say no to our children in order to create limits and impress upon them boundaries and proper living- in society and within our religion.

And at times we must be willing to take no for an answer. When we pray to Hashem and we don’t get the results we had hoped for, it is an opportunity to practice taking no for an answer, to reorient ourselves, and to consider how changes in our plans might actually be for the best.

Let us utilize Parshat Balak to remember that “No” is not always a mean or negative word. In order to live well adjusted lives within a growth mindset, it is important for us to sometimes say no, and to be able to take no for an answer.