Bad News? Good News

 My friend and colleague Rabbi Ariel Rackovsky retold a story that has always fascinated me: In a narrow, winding alley in the Old City of Yerushalaim, a remarkable encounter took place on Erev Pesach some 90 years ago. An older gentleman with thick-rimmed spectacles walked slowly yet purposefully, surrounded by a group of younger men. His name was Rav Avraham Yitzchak HaKohen Kook, the Chief Rabbi of the land of Israel and founder of the Merkaz HaRav Yeshiva. He was walking with his students on the way back from the Kotel, preparing themselves spiritually for the awesome Seder evening ahead. Coming in the other direction was an elderly man with a flowing white beard, dressed in a long, gold-striped caftan. He, too, was surrounded by an entourage. It was Rav Yosef Chaim Sonnenfeld, spiritual leader of Jerusalem’s Yishuv Hayashan, the older settlements within the walls of the Old City and the newer neighborhoods settled by the broader Hungarian community of Yerushalayim. Most of the inhabitants of these neighborhoods affiliated with the umbrella spiritual and administrative body created by Rav Sonnenfeld, known as the Eidah HaChareidis. Rav Sonnenfeld was known as “The man on the ramparts” for his staunch traditionalism and his uncompromising fight against the pernicious winds of secularism, and particularly of secular Zionism. From his community, there was often strong opposition to Rav Kook, himself unabashedly traditional in his religious world view, but whose mystical writings praised secular Zionists in their efforts to rebuild the Land of Israel.

To the Yishuv Hayashan and Rav Sonnenfeld’s students Rav Kook represented a heretical fifth column, and to Rav Kook’s students, those who objected to Rav Kook were wickedly disrespectful and hopelessly backwards. One can imagine that the tension was palpable. Rav Sonnenfeld turned to Rav Kook and said, “Iber a yohr, ihr vet zoyche zayn tzu geyen borfis in blut.” “In a year, you should merit to go barefeet in blood.” Rav Kook’s students were beyond livid, as this sounded like an unforgivable curse, yet the next thing they knew, Rav Kook had a smile on his face and said “Amen!” After they parted company, Rav Kook explained to his students that Rav Sonnenfeld had bestowed a Talmudic blessing upon him. The Talmud (Pesachim 65b) describes how, in Temple days, there were so many Paschal lambs offered that the Kohanim waded in animal blood. Rav Sonnenfeld was blessing Rav Kook- his ideological opponent, his dear friend and a Kohen that he would merit next year to take part in the service of the Korban Pesach in a rebuilt Beit Hamikdash.

Sometimes in life we hear something that sounds or appears negative, when in fact, upon closer examination, it is really something quite positive. We have an example of this in Parshat Metzora regarding the tzaraat that can afflict a house in the Land of Israel (14:34). While an affliction on one’s home seems to be a setback or a problem, Rashi quotes a Midrash that puts a completely different spin on the whole story. Noting that the pasuk uses the word “give” to describe the affliction, Rashi writes: “This is [good] news for them that lesions of tzara’at will come upon them, because the Amorites had hidden away treasures of gold inside the walls of their houses during the entire forty years that the Israelites were in the desert, and through the lesion, he will demolish the house and find them. [Vayikra Rabbah 17:6]. It is not always easy to see the positive in a situation or to hear the positive in what at first sounds like an insult or injury. But as we see from our Parsha and from Rav Kook it is possible and something that we should always be striving to do.

Lunar Lessons

 

In Parshat HaChodesh Maftir reading, the Torah instructs us to look towards and learn from the moon. The Torah states:

“Hashem said to Moshe and Aharon: “This month shall be for you the beginning of the months, it shall be for you the first of the months of the year.”

As the ten plagues culminate and the exodus is immanent, Bnai Yisrael are commanded to institute a uniquely Jewish calendar. The calendar begins with the month of Nissan, in commemoration of our freedom from Egypt.  It is the first Mitzvah given to the Jewish People. And this mitzvah is dependant on the moon. On the words “Hachodesh Hazeh” the Medrash writes that Hashem showed Moshe exactly what the moon looks like at the beginning of the month. Why does the moon occupy such a prominent role?

The Sefer Hachinuch describes the challenges that exist within this Mitzvah. First, a lunar month is 29 and a half days, and this means that some months will be assigned 29 days while others will have 30. A more challenging aspect of setting the Jewish calendar is the fact that it must exist within two systems. On the one hand, a month is defined by the amount of time it takes the moon to orbit the Earth once. On the other hand, Jewish holidays such as Pesach, Shavuot and Succot commemorate agricultural milestones. The Agricultural cycle is tied to the seasons, and seasons are dependant on the sun. The Sefer Hachinuch reminds us that a lunar year is 354 days while a solar year has 365 days. In order to keep holidays in their seasons, an extra month must sometimes be added. This is done in order to synchronize the solar and lunar years.

The Jewish calendar must live within two systems, lunar and solar. We often find ourselves living in two systems that sometimes seem to pull us in different directions: body and soul, work and family, personal growth and helping others, tradition and modernity. One lesson of the Jewish calendar is to find ways to live with tensions that cannot be resolved.

In Chasidic thought, the sun and the moon are characterized as the difference between the ideal and reality. The sun represents the ideal. It is the source of light, but it is distant and unapproachable. We cannot look directly at the sun without hurting our eyes. Similarly, the ideal should be viewed as a goal that must be strived for, yet never attained. The moon represents reality. The moon reflects light from the sun. The moon’s light resembles the sun’s rays; however the light is not as bright. We are comfortable with the moon; we can stare at it. Our reality is like the moon: it is a reflection of the ideal. Ideals are like the sun. We cannot tolerate to look at them. They do not reflect reality. The moon is real. We can look at the moon. The moon gets its light from the sun. Reality is inspired by our ideals. But the moon reflects them in a way that makes those ideals achievable and tolerable.

On this Rosh Chodesh Nisan let us learn the moon’s lessons: Be comfortable with the tensions in our life. Be realistic while being inspired by our ideals.

 

Getting Mad and Making Mistakes

During the dedication of the mishkan, two of Aharon’s sons, Nadav and Avihu, die. As a result, Aharon and his two remaining sons, Elazar and Itamar, became mourners. The laws of mourning for the Kohanim serving in the mishkan are complicated. Kohanim are allowed to eat from some sacrifices, even while they are mourners; while other sacrifices are off limits. Elazar and Itamar partook of sacrifices that were offered in celebration of the dedication of the mishkan. However, they did not partake of the Rosh Chodesh offering. (It was the first day of Nissan.) The pasuk (Vayikra 10:16) states that Moshe got angry at his nephews for not eating from the Rosh Chodesh offering. However, Moshe was wrong; not only for getting angry, but he was also wrong about the Halacha. As Aharon explained, Elazar and Itamar were correct to not eat from the Rosh Chodesh sacrifice in their status of mourners. After hearing Aharon’s explanation, Moshe changed his mind and approved of their decision (10:20).

The Midrash (Vayikra Rabba 13) explains that this is one of three episodes in the Torah where Moshe got angry. The other two are: at Mei Meriva, before Moshe hit the rock and after the war with Midyan when the soldiers allowed some Midianite women to survive against Moshe’s orders. In all three cases Moshe’s anger is accompanied by a mistake he makes related to the correct Halacha in that moment. The Sifra notes that sometimes a person gets angry because he made a mistake, and sometimes a person’s anger is what causes them to err. In the examples cited by the Midrash, at Mei Meriva and by Midyan it was Moshe’s anger that caused him to subsequently make a mistake. In our case in Parshat Shemini, it was Moshe’s mistake that led him to get angry.

The Talmud in Pesachim (66b) writes that when a person gets angry, his wisdom is suspended. Angry people often do not act in a logical or reasonable fashion. To err is human. To feel angry at times is also very difficult to avoid. The Midrash is teaching us to be aware of the relationship between our anger and our mistakes- and to prepare to avoid those pitfalls. Sometimes we make a mistake, and instead of learning from the mistake we may get embarrassed, nervous, upset and ultimately angry. In the aftermath of a mistake we should remind ourselves that everyone makes mistakes and what’s most important is that we learn from our mistakes and rectify them when possible. At other times something gets us angry. When we are angry we should try to put the situation into proper perspective as a way to ameliorate our anger. We should try to implement techniques that allow us to calm down so that we don’t do anything hasty in our anger.

Responding appropriately to our anger and to our mistakes is a big challenge. Even Moshe Rabbeinu was not perfect on these challenges. What’s most important is to be aware of the challenge and be prepared to respond to our anger and to our mistakes in as positive and constructive fashion as possible. 

The Power of Positivity

 

From the Johns Hopkins Medicine website: People with a family history of heart disease who also had a positive outlook were one-third less likely to have a heart attack or other cardiovascular event within five to 25 years than those with a more negative outlook.

That’s the finding from Johns Hopkins expert Lisa R. Yanek, M.P.H., and her colleagues. This finding applied even in people with family history who had the most risk factors for coronary artery disease, and positive people from the general population were 13 percent less likely than their negative counterparts to have a heart attack or other coronary event.

Yanek and her team determined “positive” versus “negative” outlook using a survey tool that assesses a person’s cheerfulness, energy level, anxiety levels and satisfaction with health and overall life. But you don’t need a survey to assess your own positivity, says Yanek. “I think people tend to know how they are.”

The mechanism for the connection between health and positivity remains murky, but researchers suspect that people who are more positive may be better protected against the inflammatory damage of stress. Another possibility is that hope and positivity help people make better health and life decisions and focus more on long-term goals. Studies also find that negative emotions can weaken immune response.

What is clear, however, is that there is definitely a strong link between “positivity” and health. Additional studies have found that a positive attitude improves outcomes and life satisfaction across a spectrum of conditions—including traumatic brain injury, stroke and brain tumors.

In Parshat Tzav we find the verse (6:5): וְהָאֵ֨שׁ עַל־הַמִּזְבֵּ֤חַ תּֽוּקַד־בּוֹ֙ לֹ֣א תִכְבֶּ֔ה וּבִעֵ֨ר עָלֶ֧יהָ הַכֹּהֵ֛ן עֵצִ֖ים בַּבֹּ֣קֶר בַּבֹּ֑קֶר “The fire on the altar shall be kept burning, not to go out: every morning the priest shall feed wood to it…” The literal interpretation of this pasuk is that the fire of the mizbeiach must be kept perpetually burning. In the Beit Hamikdash, there was a special chamber where hot coals were kept alive, so that the fire on the mizbeach could be relit whenever necessary. Rabbi Schneur Zalman of Liadi, first Rebbe of Chabad and author of the Tanya, offers a creative interpretation: “The fire on the Altar shall be kept burning within the Kohen; You shall extinguish the negativity.”

One way to maintain passion and a zest for life is to stay positive and to consciously vanquish negativity that can so easily creep in. The verse goes on to say that maintaining the fire on the altar was a daily, constant task for the Kohen. So too if we seek to keep our own fires burning we must seek ways to accentuate the positive and diminish the negative on an ongoing basis. Here are some suggestions from Johns Hopkins Medicine on how to stay positive:

Smile more. A University of Kansas study found that smiling—even fake smiling—reduces heart rate and blood pressure during stressful situations.

Practice reframing. Instead of stressing about a traffic jam, for instance, appreciate the fact that you can afford a car and get to spend a few extra minutes listening to music or the news, accepting that there is absolutely nothing you can do about the traffic.

As the Rebbes of Chabad were known to say, “Tracht gut, vet zayn gut! Think good, and it will be good!"

God’s Voice Stops Here

In the first pasuk of Parshat Vayikra, we read how Hashem called Moshe from the Ohel Moed. Rashi quotes a Midrash how God’s voice could only be heard within the Mishkan. This was not because the Divine Voice was weak; rather it was because Hashem chose for the voice to only be heard within the confines of the Tabernacle:

This teaches us that the [Divine] voice stopped and did not project itself beyond the Tent [of Meeting]. One might think that this was because the voice was low. Scripture therefore says, “[And when Moses came into the Tent of Meeting, he heard] the voice” (Num. 7:89). What is the meaning of “the voice” [with the definite article]? It is the voice referred to in Psalms (29:4-5): “The voice of the Lord is in strength; the voice of the Lord is in beauty. The voice of the Lord breaks cedars.” If so, why does it say, “[and the Lord spoke to him] from the Tent of Meeting”? [To inform us] that the [Divine] voice stopped.

Rabbi Moshe Feinstein asked: if God wanted the Divine Voice to only be heard within the Mishkan, then why was it a “strong” voice? Rabbi Feinstein answers that the Divine voice is strong to teach us that the word of God is in fact accessible to anyone interested in hearing it. The fact that it could only be heard within the confines of the Mishkan teaches us that in order to connect with God and His Word, we must put ourselves in situations that are conducive to that experience. That is why the Divine Voice was loud in the Mishkan, but undiscernible outside of the Tabernacle. We have a choice whether to be within earshot of Hashem’s voice.  It’s loud enough and it’s accessible. It is up to us and our free will whether we choose to hear.

Our synagogue is a Mikdash Me’at, a miniature Tabernacle. There are many ways to hear the Divine voice within our physical shul campus, as well as through the reach of the people and programs associated with our shul. All it takes to benefit from the voice of our shul is to make the choice to be a part of what we have to offer. If you choose to remain outside of the shul sphere of influence it becomes much harder to access those benefits. The most important decision is when we choose to take that step into the Mishkan/ our shul. As the verse in Tehillim states:

 פִּתְחוּ־לִ֥י שַֽׁעֲרֵי־צֶ֑דֶק אָֽבֹא־בָ֜֗ם א֘וֹדֶ֥ה יָֽהּ:

זֶֽה־הַשַּׁ֥עַר לַֽיהֹוָ֑ה צַ֜דִּיקִ֗ים יָ֘בֹ֥אוּ בֽוֹ:

“Open for me the gates of righteousness; I shall enter them and thank God. This is the Lord's gate; the righteous will enter therein.” Even if they are open, each of us needs to make the righteous choice to take that all important first step through the gates.

Seeing the Forest of the Mishkan

  “And Betzalel, the son of Uri the son of Chur, of the tribe of Judah, did everything that Hashem had commanded Moshe.”

Rashi notes the unusual phrasing of this pasuk. It should say that Betzalel did all that Moshe commanded HIM. Or it should say that Betzalel did all that Hashem commanded HIM through Moshe. Instead it says that Betzalel did all that Hashem commanded Moshe. Rashi quotes the Gemara in Brachot that explains how Betzalel proved to Moshe his suitability for the job:

When Moshe gave Betzalel his instructions he told him to first build the Klei Hamishkan and then put together the curtains and beams that comprise the sanctuary itself. Betzalel refused on the grounds that an architect must first build the house and only then decorate the interior with furniture. Moshe was impressed with Betzalel’s refusal; in fact Hashem had commanded him to first build the Mishkan and then work on the utensils. So Betzalel defied Moshe, and in so doing fulfilled the Divine command that actually had been conveyed to Moshe.

Why did Moshe want to build the keilim before there was a location to store them? And what was this dispute really about?

According to the Midrash, at this time Betzalel was only 13 years old. Developmental psychologists will tell you that early adolescence is a time during which children test limits in a more sophisticated (almost adult) manner. They begin to demand answers to why questions, not just what and how. These two characteristics can help explain why Betzalel was adamant to build the Mishkan before the vessels, against the command of Moshe.

There’s a tremendous amount of detail involved in the building of the vessels of Mishkan, ie Aron, Menorah, Shulchan. Moshe wanted to start with the more detailed and interesting aspects of construction. But before getting bogged down in details, it’s important to take a step back and ask: What is this all about? What am I doing here? What is my goal? Sometimes we are so focused on the details of a project or the rat race of day to day living, that we don’t take a step back to appreciate what it’s all about.

Betzalel understood this. At his age, it was at the forefront of his mind. He realized that before they built specific vessels, there needed to be a vision for the overall project. And so he worked first on building the general structure of the Mishkan. Only then did he turn his attention to the specific vessels, each with their own specifications, each with their own meaning and lessons.

Sometimes we get so bogged down in the details of life that we don’t have a chance to look at the big picture: What am I trying to accomplish? What are my goals? Why am I doing that which I am doing? Betzalel the Bar Mitzvah boy understood the importance of addressing these issues. He understood that we must first define our goal. The purpose of the Mishkan was to have sacred space in this world dedicated to G-dliness and Jewish unity. So he began his efforts on the actual sanctuary and then moved on to the individual components of that vision.

Betzalel taught us two important lessons: 1) Never lose sight of the big picture, 2) and be prepared to reevaluate and refine that big picture on an ongoing basis. Betzalel’s approach was ultimately endorsed by Moshe; for he called him B’tzel Kel, “one who dwells in the shadow of God”. Betzalel’s approach was endorsed by G-d, his building project was successful, and our Parsha ends with God’s presence dwelling in the Mishkan.

We too must do our best to be mindful of the big picture and make sure to revisit it on an ongoing basis. By doing so, we can also benefit from the blessing described as the culmination of the Mishkan construction: The Divine presence and Hashem’s blessings permeating our lives.

 

Two Adars Are Better than One

We are in the month(s) of Adar. While there is a lot of discussion surrounding which month is the real Adar, the Lubavitcher Rebbe explained that when it comes to the mandate that “when Adar arrives, we increase our joy” both months of Adar are included. One of the unalienable rights protected by the US Constitution is the pursuit of happiness.  While we are free to pursue happiness, the bigger challenge is figuring out how to achieve that happiness. The Maharal writes that the 4 special Maftir readings that we read this time of year provide a map for achieving happiness. The first special reading is Shekalim. The Maharal writes that this Maftir teaches that one way to achieve happiness is by viewing ourselves as part of a larger group and cause. Each person contributed a half shekel, thereby demonstrating that they were part of the Jewish People and part of the building/ maintenance campaign for the Mishkan. We find happiness when we see ourselves as part of a cause greater than ourselves. Alone we wonder whether our efforts and contributions are meaningful or long lasting. When we are part of a cause, like the half shekel initiative, we find strength, comfort and inspiration that our combined efforts will be impactful.

      Parshat Shekalim also teaches us that while it’s fun to receive, true happiness is achieved by giving.

      Once a group of 50 people was attending a seminar.

      Suddenly the speaker stopped and decided to do a group activity. He gave each person a balloon. Each one was asked to write his/her name on the balloon using a marker. Then all the balloons were collected and put in another room. Then these seminar participants were let into that room and told to find the balloon that had their name written on it, within 5 minutes. Everyone was frantically searching for their name, and their balloon, colliding with each other, pushing around others causing utter chaos.

      At the end of 5 minutes no one had their own balloon in their possession.

      Next, each person was asked to randomly take a balloon and give it to the person whose name was written on it. Within minutes everyone had their own balloon.

      The speaker explained that this exercise demonstrates what is often happening in our lives. Everyone is frantically looking for their happiness, not knowing where it is and having a hard time finding it.

      Our happiness lies in the happiness of other people. Give to others; and you will get your own happiness in the process.

      We are very fortunate that after 3-plus weeks of Adar we are bentching Rosh Chodesh this Shabbat- and it’ll still be Adar! Let us utilize this extra Adar to remind ourselves what true happiness is and from where it comes. This will allow us to have a Happy Adar Sheini, a Happy Purim and a happy life.