Responding To the Unexpected Piska in the Midst of Our Lives

    Chapter 26th of Parshat Pinchas begins with a rare scriptural occurrence: 

    What the Masoretic note refers to as a Piska B’emtzah HaPasuk, a break right in the middle of the verse. Your Chumash probably shows it, but it is seen most dramatically in the Torah scroll. The pasuk begins, Vayehi Acharei Hamageifah, “and it was after the plague.” Then the rest of that line is left empty and the verse picks up on the next line with the rest of that verse. Usually there is a Piska, space in the Torah scroll only at the end of an idea, and occasionally there will be a space at the end of a verse. But here there is a pause between when the Torah tells us about a disastrous event, and what the response to that difficult situation was going to be. 

    This week the Jewish community experienced a Piska B’emtzah HaPasuk, an unexpected and tragic event: the collapse of a condo building in Surfside. I believe that our parsha may shed light on how to respond to such difficult circumstances. First, a Piska. By placing a break after mention of the plague, the Torah teaches us that the natural and legitimate first response to tragedy is a break. Piska B’emtzah HaPasuk. No words. Just silence. 

    After the pause, Hashem commands Moshe and Elazar to conduct a census of the People. Rashi suggests an explanation by way of a parable: If the flock that a shepherd has been watching is attacked by wolves, after the attack the shepherd will take a count to see how many survived. So, too, Moshe after this plague counts the people to see how many perished and how many are left.

     There are those Piskas, those unexpected events in life, that leave us speechless, as well as bereft of any way to put the event into perspective. We are confronted with tragedy and are forced to admit that tragedy is part of our lived experience. Oftentimes there’s nothing we can do about it. In those situations all we can do is what Rashi says the shepherd does after a wolf attack: note and record the loss without any semblance of consolation. There are times when any bright side is impossible to see, when we are dealing with a full-fledged tragedy. 

    Such is the feeling many of us have in the aftermath of the condo collapse in Surfside. No words, no lessons, just tears and questions, which must be accompanied by a sense of solidaritywith the families and communities of the victims. 

    In response to the plague, Hashem tells Moshe Se’u, which literally means to lift up. Hashem tells Moshe that one appropriate response to an inexplicable tragedy is to elevate each person and appreciate the value of every individual.

    The tragedy in Surfside is unfolding during the three weeks during which we mourn the national tragedy of the destruction of the Temple. The appropriate response to this recent tragedy is similar to the approach our tradition has recommended when confronting the tragedy of Churban Beit Hamikdash: Ahavat Yisrael. Appreciate the value of each person. Just as the Talmud assures consolation to those who properly mourn for Jerusalem, we pray that Hashem provides strength and consolation to help us process tragedies in productive and meaningful ways.

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 okay.

      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 is 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- i.e. 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 necessarily a mean word. In order to live well-adjusted lives with a growth mindset, it is importance for us to sometimes say no, and to be able to take no for an answer.

 

Every Second Counts

 

Parshat Chukat tells the story of the sin of Moshe hitting the rock. Commentators struggle to understand what Moshe’s mistake was; and, perhaps more fundamentally, how could Moshe have made such a mistake. The word that comes up often in these commentaries is the word “momentary”- it was a momentary lapse, or a moment of anger; a fleeting emotion that spiraled into a quick, fateful and regrettable decision.

 A split second decision can propel us in a certain direction and make a long term impact. In a second we make a decision and the outcome of that decision sends us on a path throughout our lifetime; for better or for worse. Most split second decisions are the results of attitudes that have developed over a lifetime, preparing us for that moment. On the other hand, sometimes split second decisions put on display a momentary slip in values or behaviors that we have struggled with or tried to develop throughout our life.

In Halacha, Jewish law, a second (or even a few seconds) is not a significant amount of time. So when seeking the latest time to recite Shema or to eat Chametz or the precise time for Shabbat’s end- we do not pinpoint the zeman to the precise second. Instead we round up to the nearest minute.

 But in Jewish thought even a second is valuable. As Rabbi Yehuda Hanasi teaches, Yesh Koneh Olamo B’Sha’ah Achat, a person can justify or redeem his/her entire existence through one moment- even one second!

 Here are some things we can do in a second to enhance our lives:

• Wave to someone              
• Show concern by saying hello or through our undivided attention or eye contact
• Say I love you or I’m sorry to someone
• Focus on one word on each page in our Siddur
• Take a second to think about something that you are thankful for
• Then take another second to express that gratitude in a word or two

Beatie Deutsch is an Orthodox mom of 5 lives in Har Nof, Israel. She took up running at age 25, and 4 months later finished sixth in the Tel Aviv Marathon. She has gone on to win a number of races, including the 2020 Miami Half Marathon. She was chosen by Adidas to be featured in their 'Impossible is Nothing' ad campaign. She trained for the Tokyo Olympics, and her last chance to qualify was this past April. This is what she wrote on Facebook before that qualifying race:

 In a week and a half I will be standing on the start line of the biggest race of my life. I'm not normally a dramatic person, but the stakes are pretty high here. It is my last opportunity to hit the Olympic qualifying standard of 2:29:30 and every second counts. I need to run a 5:41 mile for 26.2 miles, and if I run one second slower, I'm out.

 

While “Speedy Beatie” did not qualify for the Olympics, her journey, as well as the narrative of Moshe’s “momentary lapse”, reminds us of the importance of every second. Let us remember all that can happen in a second’s time; all that can be lost and all that we can gain. Let us resolve to live every single second to the fullest.

The Dangers of Disappointment

 The story of Korach is full of ambiguity. For example, what was Korach’s actual complaint? In pasuk Gimmel, Korach argues: “Why have you lifted yourselves above the assembly of G-d?”

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

        However, in providing background to Korach’s rebellion, the Midrash gives an altogether different cause for Korach’s rebellion: “Korach was envious of the princeship of Eltzafan ben Uzziel, whom Moshe had appointed prince over the family of Kehat.”

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

        So which event set Korach off down his doomed path? Was it his jealousy over Aharon’s position or Eltzafan’s?

        Korach was justified in expecting the position of family prince. There are specific expectations assigned in the Torah to members of a family depending on their birth order. So we can understand and appreciate Korach’s expectations. But what happened when his expectations were not met? What happened when Korach was passed over and the position was given to his younger cousin? What happens when what we thought would happen or should happen does not actually pan out?

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

        It is only at this point that Korach attacks Aharon. His expectations were not met, and he is not appointed prince. In response he lashes out against Aharon. His argument against Aharon is weak. In fact, in the earlier Midrash we learn that at first Korach acknowledged Aharon’s right to the position of Kohen Gadol. Korach’s complaint against Aharon is made out of anger and disappointment, not out of logic.

        Some commentators learn from Korach the power and danger of jealousy. I see within the story of Korach the dangers of disappointment. Even with everything that he had, Korach was unable to deal with the disappointment when his expectations were not met.

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

The Meraglim Could’ve Delivered a Great Commencement Speech

Graduations are wonderful occasions to look back on the experience, celebrate the accomplishment, and look forward with optimism to the next stage of life. Synonymous with graduations, especially for university students, is the commencement address- that last message that a student receives from the institution before moving on. Time Magazine identified their Top 10 Commencement Addresses. The list includes a variety of speakers, from Winston Churchill to Steven Colbert. As I went through the list I noticed that a number of lessons that emerge from the Top Ten Commencement addresses are sentiments that we can learn from this morning’s Torah reading, Parshat Shelach, especially within the context of the story of the Spies and its aftermath.

In 1963 President John F Kennedy delivered the commencement address at American University. In it he said:

Let us examine our attitude toward peace itself. Too many of us think it is impossible. Too many think it unreal. But that is a dangerous, defeatist belief. It leads to the conclusion that war is inevitable, that mankind is doomed, that we are gripped by forces we cannot control.

We need not accept that view. Our problems are man-made — therefore, they can be solved by man. And man can be as big as he wants. No problem of human destiny is beyond human beings. Man's reason and spirit have often solved the seemingly unsolvable — and we believe they can do it again.

JFK is expressing the sentiment: if you think you can do a thing or you think you cannot do it- you are right. Genius may be mostly perspiration, but a person needs that 1 percent of inspiration- and the belief that s/he can accomplish the goal. Looking at the Meraglim, we had 10 versus two. All Meraglim saw the exact same scene and yet Kalev and Yehoshua came to a different conclusion- how can this be? The answer is that all the Meraglim were right- those who felt that they could not conquer the land were right and because Kalev/ Yehoshua felt that they could conquer the land- they were right as well. How we approach a task and whether we are optimistic about the outcome has a profound impact on the success of the endeavor.

Steve Jobs gave the commencement address in 2005 at Stanford University. He had already been diagnosed with cancer, and his remarks were influenced by that experience. In that speech he said: Your time is limited, so don't waste it living someone else's life.

Jobs is alluding to the fact that even though we often comfort people by saying that “it’s never too late”- in reality sometimes it is too late. We need to cherish every day of life and do all that we can while we can. We can never get back the opportunities of today and there is no guarantee of how many tomorrows any of us will actually see. Some things can’t be undone and some things can’t be made up for. We learn this lesson in Parshat Shelach from the Maapilim (end of Chapter 14). They tell Moshe, “we realize the mistake of our ways and we won’t repeat it.” And Moshe tells them “it’s too late”-  they don’t listen and they are destroyed by Amalek and the Canaanim.

In sum, Parshat Shelach contains a number of powerful lessons for our graduates and really for us all: 1) Success often depends on our attitudes and our belief in our ability to succeed. 2) As much as we are a religion of second chances, sometimes in life it becomes too late - so plan accordingly.

If we really internalize these lessons of Parshat Shelach, then may Hashem bless our graduates and us all as we move onto a new Parsha.

Complaining the Right Way

Mr. Cohen requests from his doctor at St. Andrew’s Medical Center to be transferred to Beth Israel hospital. After he’s transferred, the doctor at Beth Israel asks, “Mr. Cohen, what was wrong at St. Andrew’s? Was it the food?”  “No, the food was fine. I couldn’t complain.”  “Was it the room?”  “No, the room was comfortable,” replies Mr. Cohen. “I couldn't complain.”  “Was it the staff?”  “No, the staff was lovely. I couldn't complain.” “Then, Mr. Cohen, why did you want to be transferred here?” Mr. Cohen responds, “Because here, I can complain!”

          In Parshat Behaalotecha, Chapter 11 begins with the first of the Jewish People’s many complaints in the wilderness:

וַיְהִ֤י הָעָם֙ כְּמִתְאֹ֣נְנִ֔ים רַ֖ע בְּאָזְנֵ֣י ה

The people were looking to complain, and it was evil in the ears of the Lord.

          By qualifying that this complaint was viewed as evil, the Torah is implying that not all complaints are evil. There are complaints that are detrimental and complaints that can be constructive.

          Psychologist Guy Winch points out that complaining can be detrimental to our mental health. Today people have many dissatisfactions and frustrations. Our standard of living does not match up with the amount of complaining we do. At the same time, many of us believe that we're powerless to do anything or to get the results we want. This can leave us feeling helpless, hopeless, victimized, and bad about ourselves.

          On the other hand, complaining effectively and getting results can be incredibly empowering and it can affect our mood and self-esteem for the better. In his book, The Squeaky Wheel: Complaining the Right Way to Get Results, Winch reviews some of the key components of effective complaining: The biggest difference between effective and detrimental complaining is whether the complaint is framed in a way that seeks resolution. Do we complain just to vent and get things off our chests, without any expectations or game plan to help the situation? Then we are doomed to vicious cycles of chronic complaining. However, if we approach a complaint in a goal-oriented way, and that goal is to resolve the situation, then complaining can be very healthy and very useful. Other suggestions for positive complaining include:

1)    Think optimistically: go into a complaint confident that it can be resolved.

2)    Don’t complain in a blaming, hostile or criticizing manner. Such an approach only leads to defensiveness. Instead be empathetic, and understand both sides of the equation, even as you remain firm in your complaint.

          One of my favorite recommendations is to express complaints in the form of a complaint sandwich. The content of the complaint is specific and not generalized criticism. And that complaint is sandwiched between two more positive expressions: Start with something pleasant.  And then close with a request for a resolution in a positive fashion.

          Some suggest that Jewish complaining is based on the Jewish belief that there is always the possibility of improvement. When utilized appropriately both complaining and dissatisfaction can be positive attributes. The problem in the Midbar was not that Bnei Yisrael were complaining. The problem was that Bnei Yisrael were not complaining the right way, with the right mindset and right motivations. That’s why these complaints were evil in Hashem’s ears. Let us learn from their mistake by being careful that when we see the need to complain we do it in the right way.

Do Unto Others as Hashem does to the Sotah

 

The Talmud (Yerushalmi Sotah 1:4) tells the story of a woman who went out Friday night to hear a shiur from the great Rabbi Meir. The shiur ran long and the woman arrived home later than expected. Her husband was fuming and forbade his wife from entering their home again- until she spat in Rabbi Meir’s face. Upon hearing of this unfortunate situation Rabbi Meir devised a ruse. He found this woman and told her that he had been diagnosed with an eye ailment, and the only remedy was human saliva- he needed someone to spit in his eye. The woman was willing to oblige, and promptly spat seven times- in Rabbi Meir’s eye- in front of his entire Beit Midrash. She was then able to return home and inform her husband that she went above and beyond his unreasonable request.

        Rabbi Meir’s students approached their teacher and asked how he could allow himself to be spat upon. There is a concept that Torah scholars must maintain their dignity at all times, not for their own sake but for the sake of the Torah that they possess and represent. Rabbi Meir explained that he was simply following God’s lead.

 ומה אם שם הקודש שנכתב בקדושה אמר הכתוב שיימחה על המים בשביל להטיל שלום בין איש לאשתו. וכבוד מאיר לא כל שכן

        Rabbi Meir is referring to the procedure of the Sotah, described in this morning’s Parsha. If a woman is suspected of engaging in an extra-marital affair, she may be brought to the Beit Hamikdash and forced to drink from the bitter waters prepared by the Kohen. In the water, the Kohen dissolves a piece of scroll that includes a curse that is written in our Torah portion and includes the Shem Hashem. Under normal circumstances, we are not allowed to erase God’s name. And yet in this case Hashem allows His name to be erased. Says Rabbi Meir, “I certainly cannot be more concerned with my honor than Hashem.”

        It’s a beautiful idea- Hashem is willing to have His name erased for Shalom Bayit, to promote domestic harmony (Makkot 11a). But it doesn’t fully answer the question: why does Hashem emphasize the importance of Shalom Bayit by allowing us to do something that is usually forbidden? The process of clarifying the Sotah’s status is miraculous enough: if she is innocent she is visibly blessed, and if she is guilty she is noticeably cursed. In a situation that is already devoid of the expected levels of G-dliness, why exacerbate the situation by physically erasing G-d’s name as part of the ceremony?

        Rabbi Eliyahu Lopian explains that by allowing His name to be erased, Hashem demonstrates His willingness to take initiative and extend Himself in ways He normally would not in order to improve the relationship between husband and wife. In so doing the Torah is teaching us an important lesson: When it comes to Chesed, when it comes to promoting and enhancing our relationships- we must not take a wait and see attitude or merely be reactive. We must be proactive.

        At our Tehillim gathering last week for Israel, I mentioned how important it is to “carry the burden” of our brothers and sisters in Israel during this difficult time. It is no less important for each of us to “carry the burden” of our friends, neighbors and community members that need our empathy, sympathy or support. Chesed is a pillar of our community. We must always be on the lookout for ways to nurture a culture of caring within our kehillah. And even if we may have missed opportunities to be there for someone else, we should not give up or stop trying. For when it comes to Chesed it really is never too late. Let us learn from Hashem’s willingness to be proactive, take initiative, and extend Himself by the Sotah, and apply those attitudes towards our fellow community members.