“Talking to a Rock: More Productive Than You Might Think”

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

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

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

One group was told to express their feelings of anxiety and fear before touching the spider. A second group was told to use words that helped to make the situation less threatening, such as “this little spider can’t harm me”- the typical approach used for de-sensitization. A third group was told to say something irrelevant to the spider situation and the fourth group was instructed to say nothing. The group that had the most significant decrease in their fear of spiders was the group that put into words what it was they were feeling- to say it as they felt it, not as they wished they would see things.   

                The verb to pray in Hebrew, L’hitpallel, is a reflexive verb. It means that the impact of the action is felt by the person doing the action. Just like L’hitlabesh means to get oneself dressed. Tefillah is an important exercise in self-reflection: When we verbalize words of prayer we are confronted with questions such as, “Do I believe what I am saying?”  “Are my values consistent with those I am expressing in my tefilot- and if not, how do I feel about that?”

                The same thing occurs when we speak to others. When we talk to/ yell at our kids to be more attentive or respectful- even if they are not listening to what we are saying, we need to be listening to what we are saying and be asking ourselves, “Are we modeling the behaviors and values that we’d like to see in our children, or friends, or co-workers?” Or are we in some way contributing to the behaviors and attitudes that we are verbally protesting against?

                Hashem told Moshe to speak to the rock and it will flow forth water. From this story we learn that Hashem challenges us to speak up, even if it feels like we’re talking to a rock. For even if the rock cannot hear us, we need to hear ourselves. If we appreciate the importance of speaking up, even to a rock, may Hashem in turn hear our voices and bless our efforts.

Inspiring Others, Inspiring Ourselves

One of the perplexing questions that emerges from this morning’s Parsha is: In what way was Korach mistaken? We read how Korach challenges Moshe and Aharon with the following statement:

"You take too much upon yourselves, for the entire congregation are all holy, and the Lord is in their midst. So why do you raise yourselves above the Lord's assembly?"

Korach’s specific complaint was regarding Aharon’s elevation as Kohen Gadol, a position of which he was envious. Korach’s larger complaint was the very notion of Jewish leadership: For if every Jew is holy, then why are there any positions of leadership within the Jewish community?

In some important ways, Korach is correct. It is fundamental to Jewish thought that all Jews are holy; we each possess a Divine spark in our souls. If that is the case, then one can legitimately question the need for leadership within the Jewish People.

The Lubavitcher Rebbe explained that Korach’s challenge is predicated on a mistaken understanding of the role of a Jewish leader. The primary role of a leader is help people get more in touch with their Divine spark. In short, the job of a leader is to inspire people to inspire themselves. It’s true that every individual has the potential for holiness. But many of those same people cannot get in touch with that holy potential. Even those who are spiritually sensitive enough to bring holiness into their lives, still may need help to optimize that experience and maximize that potential for kedusha. It is the job of leaders to actualize that potential and to bring out the best in others.

And although not all of us can be leaders on the scale of Moshe or Aharon, each of us has the ability to be a Jewish leader within his/her realm of impact and sphere of influence. The Lubavitcher Rebbe (who passed away 25 years ago today, the 3^rd of Tammuz) was fond of retelling the Chasidic saying “if you only know aleph (first letter of the Hebrew alphabet) - then teach aleph!” We all have something to teach others, and we can serve in a leadership role, for some people in some setting. Whether it is within our family, our neighborhood, our office or our shul, let us learn from the mistake of Korach and proudly wear the mantle of leaders. Let us do so by serving as positive peer pressure for others and by encouraging and validating their efforts at inspiring themselves.

This past week, I convened our annual meeting with Rabbi and Sara Frieberg to review the previous programming year and begin planning for 5780. As part of these meetings we focus on both concrete plans as well as questions that are meant to be thought-provoking (even if we cannot definitively answer them). One of the questions I posed was: How can we inspire more people; how can we inspire people more? Our conclusions were that 1) different people are inspired by different things, 2) while big events and gestures can be memorable, long-lasting inspiration comes from the accumulation of small gestures, interactions and experiences that have a cumulative inspirational effect, and 3) one of the most important things Rabbis and community leaders can do is inspire people to take advantage of the opportunities that exist for inspiration.

Let us learn from Korach’s mistake by both stepping up and being leaders when we can inspire others, while also doing the hard work of inspiring ourselves.

Lessons from Entebbe

July 4th marks the 43^rd anniversary of Operation Entebbe. On June 27, 1976 an Air France flight from Tel Aviv to Paris was hijacked after a stopover in Athens. The 247 passengers and 12 crew members were flown to Entebbe, Uganda. The hijackers were from a breakaway faction of the Popular Front for the Liberation of Palestine. The situation took a dark and ominous turn when soon after arriving at Entebbe, the non-Israeli passengers were separated from the Israelis, and then released. Besides the Israelis and the crew, all other Jews on the plane were also kept hostage, even if they were not Israeli nationals. (Remember this the next time someone makes the ridiculous claim that being anti-Zionistic is not the same as being anti-Semitic.)

Back in Israel plans for the rescue mission were being devised. The military officer in charge of planning this mission was Ehud Barak, who would later become Prime Minister of Israel.  The Prime Minister at the time, Yitzchak Rabin, was under tremendous pressure to ensure the safe release of the hostages – even if it meant negotiating with terrorists. PM Rabin finally gave the orders to embark on the rescue mission. The actual mission is the stuff of movies- in fact, three different movies.

The rescue mission was a success. All of the hijackers were killed, 102 hostages freed. But one Israeli soldier was killed during the operation- Yoni Netanyahu.  Soon the phone would ring in the home of Yoni’s brother, a young man then called Ben Nitay. Ben was studying in Cambridge, Massachusetts. The career shift of Yoni’s brother, current Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu is the most visible legacy of that mission, but the impact of Entebbe is felt in other ways too. The PLO stopped hijacking planes and Idi Amin was overthrown, both results can be traced back to the Entebbe mission. The US military man in charge of the operation to capture and kill Osama bin Laden in 2011 was Admiral William McRaven, the author of a detailed study of the raid on Entebbe.

There are many lessons that emerge from Operation Entebbe. For us on Shabbat Parshat Shelach, two of those lessons stand out:

First, the Entebbe mission teaches us that enemies of Israel may be able to hurt and impede us, but nothing and no-one can prevent Jewish destiny from being realized. This was the mistake of the spies. After travelling the land, 10 of the 12 spies came back with negative reports about the Land of Israel. If we look closely at what they report, it is possible that their report is all factually correct. The inhabitants of the land were indeed giants. The cities were in fact fortified.  And yes, it was going to be hard to conquer the Land. But even though they may have been right about all of these details, the spies were still wrong- in their unwillingness to factor into their equation the Hand of God and Jewish destiny. As ben Gurion once quipped, “In Israel, in order to be a realist you must believe in miracles.”

Second, the Entebbe rescue mission demonstrated Israeli risk taking and initiative. As one military analyst noted, the fact that the Entebbe mission was a success was not surprising; the Ugandans were outmatched in all ways according to all opinions. What was impressive was the “guts” demonstrated by Israeli leadership in ordering the command to do the right thing and get the job done. This is the lesson that we can learn from Yehoshua and Kalev in our Parsha. These two spies understood the role of Divine intervention and Jewish destiny. They are forever remembered for their willingness to show the courage and resolve to speak up and to say what was unpopular and what most people did not want to hear (neither their fellow spies nor Bnai Yisrael).

Let us take a moment this July 4^th to remember the lessons from Entebbe- especially those that intersect with the story of the Meraglim: The need to take risks, engage in bold initiatives, say things that at times may be unpopular, and do what needs to be done. At the same time, we must never underestimate the Yad Hashem, the role of God in the unfolding Jewish story. It is Jewish determination coupled with faith in God that assures that Am Yisrael Chai.

Meant To Be Difficult

          In Parshat Beha’alotcha we read about two objects that were impressively made from one single piece of metal.

          The Parsha opens with the command directed towards Aharon to light the Menorah. Then the Torah provides a one-pasuk description of the Menorah’s construction:

“This is the workmanship of the Menorah: hammered out 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 supposed to be built.

          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”, hammered out of a single piece of silver. (This is probably why there are no Chatzotzrot in the IKEA catalogue.)

          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 Holy Ark had to also be Miksha.

          The word Miksha comes from the word Kashe, which means hard or difficult. To sculpt these elaborate objects is certainly 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 wise must go south. Similarly the Midrash recounts how Moshe would meditate by the light of the Menorah when he was trying to figure out a particularly difficult lesson from Hashem.

          Keruvim represent children. Rashi in Parshat Teruma (25:18) quotes the Gemara in Sukah (5b) which states: The Keruvim looked like children.

          The Chatzotzrot, trumpets, symbolize happiness. In this morning’s Torah reading, the last pasuk relating to the trumpets sums up the instances in which they were to be blown (10: 10). The sound of the Chatztzrot 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 intertwined one with the other. One might think that as fundamentals, success in these areas should be easy. Comes the Torah and tells us in each instance: “Miksha Hi.” They’re hard to accomplish and maintain. These three goals seem to pull us in three different directions. Spending time learning Torah versus time spent on maintaining the family. The financial stress of paying for a Jewish education for our children, and how much happier we imagine we could be without that expense.

          Some people believe that such tensions and questions are symptoms of a lack of 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 noble and essential as Torah, family and joy, it’s okay to say “Miksha Hi.” Life is hard, and that’s why it’s meaningful. By appreciating the inherent difficulties, may we merit to enjoy the full measure of Hashem’s blessing in all of these areas.

“All Our Deed are Recorded”

This week I attended a presentation for parents organized by Brauser Maimonides Academy presented by Dr. Eli Shapiro, creator of the Digital Citizenship Project. The goal of this project is to help children utilize technology in a healthy and positive way. One of the things we have to teach our children (and remind ourselves) is the notion of our “digital footprint”: that everything we post on social media and any place that we are mentioned on the internet becomes part of our permanent record, accessible via internet by anyone even years and decades later. Dr. Shapiro shared a news article that in 2017, Harvard University rescinded the admission of ten students after uncovering offensive and inappropriate posts on private Facebook messaging groups.

Some are fighting for a limit on the accessibility of their digital footprint. In 2014, the Court of Justice of the European Union (CJEU) ruled that Google had to remove links to out-of-date information about a Spanish man, because he wanted to be free of people learning about his bankruptcy more than a decade before, every time they searched for his name. This has become known as “the right to be forgotten”, and other European countries have adopted similar policies. Though some want there to be a “right to be forgotten” in the US, most scholars find it unlikely that such a law could pass, since it might violate the First Amendment (free speech and free press).

Judaism does not believe in a “right to be forgotten”. As the Mishna in Pirkei Avot (2:1) teaches us:

Apply your mind to three things and you will not come into the clutches of sin: Know what there is above you: an eye that sees, an ear that hears, and all your deeds are written in a book.

At the end of Parshat Nasso we read about the donations offered by the Nesiim at the time of the dedication of the altar. Rashi (7:3) notes that whereas at the building of the Mishkan the princes donated last, here they donate first. Rashi explains that earlier the princes made a mistake by waiting to see what was needed to finish building the Mishkan (and nothing was needed.) This time, the princes learned from their mistake and are the first to bring gifts.

This week marked the passing of Rabbi Nathan Kamenetsky, son of Rav Yaakov Kamenetsky and author of the (in)famous book The Making of a Gadol.  In a 2003 New York Times article about the book, Joseph Berger noted:

What has made the book so controversial is that the portraits are perhaps too human. Rather than the saintly figures often depicted in biographies for the Orthodox market, the Lithuanian sages -- a godol is a great sage -- are shown wrestling with the lures of secular life and with their own sometimes crusty personalities. Even as they display remarkable analytic powers in tackling the Talmud, they read Tolstoy, they have relatives tempted by Communism, they write love letters to their fiancées, they are mercurial and moody.

As a result, the first edition of his book was banned by some Rabbis. However Rabbi Kamenetsky defended his book by noting that all details of a great person should be remembered, as it provides a full picture of their greatness. For us, knowing that great Jewish leaders struggled with shortcomings and confronted challenges similar to ours, allows us to appreciate them more. And if they had similar struggles then we should look to them as role models whom we can emulate, and not angels that have nothing in common with mere mortals.  Here again, we are reminded that all of one’s deeds are remembered; not only in Heaven but here on earth.

Putting the “You” in Shavuot

During Torah reading people follow along either standing or sitting. However, as we read the Ten Commandments everyone is requested to rise, if they are able to. This is in accordance with the Ashkenazic tradition. This custom is not without its Halachik controversy. There’s a Mishna in Masechet Tamid that states that there once was a practice in the Beit Hamikdash for the Kohanim to read the Aseret Hadibrot as part of their daily Temple service. However, this practice was soon abolished because of a concern referred to as “Taromot Haminim” – the arguments of heretics. There was a fear that heretics would convince less knowledgeable Jews that only the Ten Commandments are true and the rest of Torah is false. They would point to the fact that the Ten Commandments received special treatment in the Beit Hamikdash as their proof. This Mishna is the textual basis for not standing for the Ten Commandments. The Rambam was strongly opposed to the custom to stand only for Aseret Hadibrot. He felt that this practice undermines our belief in the validity of the entire Torah. Yemenite and some other Sephardic communities follow the Rambam’s view.

        The most common Ashkenazic practice is to allow and even encourage standing for Aseret Hadibrot- especially on Shavuot. The reason is because on Shavuot we stand in order to re-enact the event of Receiving the Torah at Mount Sinai as the pasuk says, (19:17):

“And the nation stood at the bottom of the mountain.”

        The Midrash takes the idea even further. It states that every Jewish soul ever to be born, as well as the souls of those who would convert throughout the ages, were spiritually present at the time of Matan Torah. That means that when we stand for Aseret Hadibrot on Shavuot morning, we were not just re-enacting an historical event, but re-experiencing in physical terms something that our souls experienced 3331 years ago. This Midrash reinforces the connection between Pesach and Shavuot. On Pesach we personalize the Exodus and appreciate that event’s direct impact on our lives. So, too, on Shavuot we must personalize the Sinai experience and appreciate the importance of Matan Torah in our own lives. Externally we show this by standing during the reading of the Ten Commandments. But how else can we foster a personal appreciation for the importance of Matan Torah?

        The Talmud records a dispute between Rabbi Eliezer and Rabbi Yehoshua as to the most appropriate way to celebrate Jewish holidays. According to Rabbi Eliezer a person’s Yom Tov can be either spiritually focused- with an emphasis on prayer and Torah learning; or physically focused, with an emphasis on eating and drinking. Rabbi Yehoshua believes that the holidays should be evenly split between physical and spiritual pursuits.

        Comes Rabbi Elazar and says:

“Hakol Modim Ba’Atzeret Deba’inan Nami Lachem.”

        On Shavuot, everyone agrees that there must be some focus on the physical- ie eating and drinking. This seems counter-intuitive. If anything, I would have thought that on the day on which we receive the Torah, we should de-emphasize the physical and focus more on the spiritual elements of the holiday.

        Rabbi Elazar is teaching us a key to personalizing Matan Torah. We are better off for receiving the Torah, and to demonstrate that we are encouraged to indulge in physical enjoyment on Shavuot to reinforce the association between Torah and pleasure.

        It is through personalizing the experience of Matan Torah, putting the “You” in Shavuot, that we are able to fully celebrate this Yom Tov.

Jerusalem: The Gratitude and the Prayer

On Israel Independence Day 1967 two things happened which now seem like prophecies. In the Merkaz HaRav Yeshiva, Rabbi Tzvi Yehuda Kook gave an historic speech in which he lamented: "Where is our Hebron, where is our Shechem?” And that night, at the Israeli Song Festival, an unknown singer named Shuli Natan got up and sang for the first time what would later become Israel's all-time favorite song – Naomi Shemer's "Jerusalem of Gold - Yerushalayim Shel Zahav" which stirred the hearts of an entire country with longing to return to Jerusalem's Old City and the Temple Mount.

Just three weeks later, Hebron, the Old City, and the heartland of Biblical Israel, were suddenly and miraculously restored to the Jewish People.

                Sunday is Yom Yerushalayim, celebrating the 52^nd anniversary of the Israeli victory in the Six Day War.  As a Floridian, I am especially proud this week as Governor Ron DeSantis, while making good on his campaign promise to visit Israel on his first foreign trip, made history by convening a Cabinet meeting in the US Embassy in Jerusalem.  Earlier this year, the Florida Cabinet issued a proclamation declaring Jerusalem as “Israel’s eternal and undivided capital.”

                On the same day that Florida’s Cabinet met in Jerusalem, Iran’s Foreign Minister Mohammad Zarif made the news with his most recent untrue tweet: “Al-Quds (Jerusalem) is neither America's to give away nor Israel's to take.” I partially agree with Zarif, in that Israel cannot take Jerusalem, for you cannot take something that already belongs to you. We must call out those who espouse untrue histories about Israel and Jerusalem. Specifically we must push back on and reject the narrative that the Jewish right to Israel is a result of the Holocaust. The Jewish claims to Israel and Jerusalem go back 4,000 years (when God promised the Land to Avraham), not 75 years.

                David Ben Gurion once said, “If a land can have a soul, Jerusalem is the soul of the Land of Israel.” Throughout the 2,000 years of Jewish exile and dispersal, the Jewish People never forgot Jerusalem. In the immediate aftermath of the First Temple’s destruction, 2,500 years ago, the author of Psalm 137 declared, “If I forget thee O Jerusalem, let my right hand forget its cunning.” This quote has remained relevant and the lived experience of Jews ever since.

                As happy as we are to celebrate Yom Yerushalayim, it is also a time to note that the full potential of Jerusalem has yet to be realized. In Tehillim 122 we note

Yerushalayim Habenuyah k’ir shechubra la yachdav

The built-up city of Jerusalem is like a city that is united

Jerusalem continues to be built-up. As much as I love visiting that which already exists in Jerusalem, I am always excited to count the number of cranes one sees across the Jerusalem skyline. And yet the city still lacks a unity among its inhabitants: secular and religious, and even differences within the religious Jewish communities.

                Today on the Temple Mount in Jerusalem, Muslims are free to worship, but Jews and Christians are barred from praying on that site. Yet In Isaiah (56:7) the prophet refers to a future time when the Temple Mount will be available for prayer for all nations, as it was in the days of the Beit Hamikdash

כִּ֣י בֵיתִ֔י בֵּית־תְּפִלָּ֥ה יִקָּרֵ֖א לְכָל־הָֽעַמִּֽים:

for My house shall be called a house of prayer for all peoples

                On Yom Yerushalayim let us express our gratitude for our connection and access to Jerusalem today, even as we pray for the realization of Jerusalem’s full potential in the future.