Hard - And Worth It

Hard - And Worth It

In this morning’s parsha we read about two objects that were impressively made from one single piece of metal.

                At the beginning of the Parsha, 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 (according to some commentators) even Moshe was stumped as to how the Menorah was 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”, shaped out of a single piece of silver.

                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. (Terumah: 25:18)

                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 (on the southern wall) 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 that the Keruvim looked like 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 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 entwined 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 essential as Torah, family and joy, it’s okay to say “Miksha Hi.” These things are hard. But these things are worth it. If we prioritize them and work towards these goals, then Hashem will help us enjoy the blessings of our successes.

Interpersonal Lessons from the Sotah Episode

Interpersonal Lessons from the Sotah Episode

                Parshat Nasso contains the Sota procedure. 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.

                When people ask me for marriage advice, I tell them I’m still (and always will be) in the learning phase, but that there is one lesson I have already learned: never take your marriage for granted. Never take any interpersonal relationship for granted. Relationships must constantly be nurtured and reevaluated. We must always be ready and willing to extend ourselves and take initiative on behalf of others- as Hashem teaches us by the Sotah waters.

                But extending oneself for the sake of peace sometimes is not enough. The second lesson we can learn is the need to be flexible. Under normal circumstances it is absolutely forbidden to erase the name of God. But to promote Shalom Bayit the Torah allows it. In so doing the Torah is encouraging us to also exhibit flexibility for the sake of peace.

                Former Illinois Sentator Everett Dirksen used to say:  “I am a man of fixed and unbending principles, the first of which is to be flexible at all times.”

                Isn’t that how our Halachik system works for the most part? There is a rule, and then there are the exceptions to the rule, when the rule does not apply, when we ignore that rule for some greater rule or some greater good. By erasing G-d’s name for the Sotah, the Torah is reminding us of the importance of flexibility within any interpersonal relationship.

Har Sinai and Har Hamoriah

Har Sinai and Har Hamoriah

               

It was a historic week in Jerusalem as the United States officially opened its embassy in Jerusalem. This is not the first time that Jerusalem and Shavuot coincided to make headlines.

Shavuot 1967: Grand Reopening of the Kotel for Jewish Prayer – a week after the end of the 6 Day War. NY Times covered the event with a special report in its June 14, 1967 issue.

The Times was not aware of just how appropriate it was for Shavuot to be celebrated in connection with the Kotel and Temple Mount. For Har Sinai (central to the Shavuot story) and Har Hamoriah (location of Temple Mount) are the two mountains most central to Jewish history and Jewish identity. Our Rabbis teach us just how interconnected the two locations are.

                On one hand: Har Sinai is the model/ inspiration for the Beit Hamikdash on Har Hamoriah:

1. Chazal teach us that the fire that constantly burned on the Mizbeach on Har Hamoriah had originally been lit from the fire that burned during Matan Torah on Har Sinai.

2. Vayikra Rabba: the sprinkling of blood that Moshe does at Har Sinai- marks the origins of sprinkling blood, so important in the Temple Service on Har Hamoriah

3. Ramban’s opinion that the purpose of the Mishkan is to be a mobile Sinai unit- to have an ongoing Revelation, similar to what occurred at Har Sinai- as the Jews make their way to Israel, and ultimately on Har Hamoriah in the Beit Hamikdash.

On the other hand: Mt. Sinai resembles what occurred earlier at Mt Moriah- at Akeidat Yitzchak. Rabbanit Shani Taragin notes the similarities:

1. At Har Sinai- the Jews prepared for 3 days before Revelation could occur- just like Avraham journeyed for 3 days prior to the Akeida

2. At Har Sinai: Moshe tells his colleagues to wait at the base of the mountain while he journeys upward- just like at Har Hamoriah, Avraham tells his escorts to wait for him at the foot of the Mountain while he journeys upward.

3. At Har Sinai- Bnai Yisrael saw God- just like at Har Hamoriah, Avraham declares “Behar Hashem Yeraeh”.

The relationship between Har Sinai and Har Hamoriah is symbiotic and synergistic. Each mountain teaches us lessons that can be derived from, and enhanced by, the other mountain.

It was personal sacrifice, journeying down the lonely road of submission to God and the countercultural beliefs demonstrated by Avraham at the Akeida on Har Hamoriah that set the paradigm for Bnai Yisrael. Avraham’s declaration of Hineni at Har HaMoriah inspired the nation’s declaration of Na’aseh V’Nishma (ie we submit to God even if we don’t understand) at Har Sinai.

It was a commitment to Jewish unity and collective responsibility exhibited by Bnei Yisrael at Har Sinai that was crucial for the nation’s development as they prepared to live a normal yet noble life in Eretz Yisrael, where their spiritual focal point was the Beit Hamikdash on Har Hamoriah.

                From Har Hamoriah we learn the value of personal identity and blazing one’s own trail. From Har Sinai we learn national identity, unity and appreciating the values of community and tradition. Though seemingly conflicting, these lessons must reside within one person, one spot, as the Midrash Tanchuma teaches us:  Sinai Meheichan Bah? MeHar Hamoriah Nitlash K’Challah Me’Isa.

                Har Sinai and Har Hamoriah come from the same location.  Har Hamoriah informs the Har Sinai experience, which then influences the Beit Hamikdash on Har Hamoriah. There is a tension between Har Hamoriah (personal identity) and Har Sinai (collective responsibility). Yet these two great mountains of Jewish history encourage us to understand how together they form a rich tapestry, critical to Jewish life.

Loving People When It’s Not So Easy

There are a number of customs associated with the Sefira period: restrictions on weddings, hair-cutting, and music to name a few. All of these practices are utilized in Jewish tradition to foster a feeling of mourning and loss in our lives. For instance, these are some of the same restrictions we find during the Three Weeks when we mourn the Beit Hamikdash’s destruction. They are also practices we associate with mourning over the death of a close relative.

                One of the reasons offered as to why we observe a period of quasi-mourning during Sefira is the tradition that 24,000 of Rabbi Akiva’s students died during this period. It remains a mystery what was the physical cause of death: was it some form of plague? Were they killed in battle during the Bar Kochba revolt (we know how supportuive Rabbi Akiva was of Bar Kochba.) Whatever the physical cause of death was, the Talmud (Yevamot 62b) suggests the spiritual reason for this tragedy and the lesson we are supposed to learn from the episode: “They did not treat each other with respect.”

                This suggestion is difficult in light of the fact that we know that “Love your neighbor as yourself” was considered by Rabbi Akiva to be a fundamental principle of the Torah. How could his students have learned from Rabbi Akiva and yet not learn this lesson?

                 One possibility is that perhaps the students took their Rebbe’s lesson a bit too literally. The verse in the Torah is “Ve’Ahavta Lereiacha Kamocha” which means “love your neighbor as yourself”. There is much discussion as to what the word “Kamocha” means in this context. Perhaps the students of Rabbi Akiva took it to mean that you must be willing to get along with people that are Kamocha: ie with whom you share similarities. It’s easy to like people that are similar to us; people that share our worldview, our values, and our priorities. But how do we treat people with whom we disagree? How do we treat people with whom we normally agree but strongly disagree on a particular topic that is very important to both parties? How do we treat people that are different than us? This is when “Love your neighbor” becomes a challenge and much more important. It’s like the parent who is disappointed in the behavior or actions of their child and says to them, “I love you right now, I just don’t like you very much at this moment.”

                The goal of our shul is to encourage religious growth and a culture of caring. In so doing we hope to also be a beacon of Judaism to the broader world. Sefira is an appropriate time to remember our mission and begin working on this. The period between Pesach and Shavuot was a time of great spiritual growth for our ancestors who left Mitzrayim. And it can serve that purpose for us as well. When we contemplate religious growth it’s important to remember that how we treat our fellow Jew is as religiously significant as our prayer, Torah study, and observance of Shabbat and Kashrut. Both must be present in order to develop a well-rounded religious persona. During this Sefira period, let us commit to working on our interpersonal relationships and interactions.  Let us appreciate the importance of loving our fellow Jews who may be different than us and with whom we may disagree, and not just when loving our neighbor is easy.

The Value of Every Human Being

The Value of Every Human Being

This week we read about the importance of justice. In 19:15 the Torah warns judges to act with scrupulous honesty and integrity:

You shall commit no injustice in judgment; you shall not favor a poor person or respect a great man; you shall judge your fellow with righteousness.

טו לֹא־תַֽעֲשׂ֥וּ עָ֨וֶל֙ בַּמִּשְׁפָּ֔ט לֹֽא־תִשָּׂ֣א פְנֵי־דָ֔ל וְלֹ֥א תֶהְדַּ֖ר פְּנֵ֣י גָד֑וֹל בְּצֶ֖דֶק תִּשְׁפֹּ֥ט עֲמִיתֶֽךָ:

            Twenty verses later the Torah uses the same phrase:

You shall not commit a perversion of justice with measures, weights, or liquid measures.

לֹא־תַֽעֲשׂ֥וּ עָ֖וֶל בַּמִּשְׁפָּ֑ט בַּמִּדָּ֕ה בַּמִּשְׁקָ֖ל וּבַמְּשׂוּרָֽה:

The same phrase is used again, only this time it is addressed to every merchant, storekeeper and peddler: maintain honest weights and measures.

Dr. Michal Tikochinsky writes that the usage of the same phrase used in both instances  is meant to be a powerful statement by the Torah of the value of every person: whether they are a formal judge or a simple fruit vendor- both are called upon to not corrupt justice. Both are informed that there is potential sanctity in their respective fields of work. Both are considered judges with all of the responsibilities and accolades attached therein: ie just as a judge on a Beit Din/ Sanhedrin/ that takes his job seriously is considered as if he has partnered with God Himself, so too a salesman or vendor that acts appropriately is on similar spiritual footing.

The Sanhedrin judge and the fruit vendor may occupy different socio-economic strata. Yet both of them deserve our dignity and earn our respect through their honest conduct.

Our responsibility as Jews is to see every human being and the value contained within, so that no one feels invisible or marginalized. The word respect in Hebrew- Kavod is related to the word Kaved- which means heavy. We show respect for someone by treating them and their concerns in a heavy manner- ie with attention and seriousness.

The opposite of heavy is light- Kal. Kal is the root of the word Kilel- which means to curse and is also found in Parshat Kedoshim: Lo Tekalel Cheresh, do not curse the deaf (19:14).

The problem with cursing the deaf is that behaving in such a way shows how lightly that person is taken- how that person is treated without respect and is marginalized. It’s not surprising that the prohibition in the Torah is formulated in regards to a deaf person- because those who are different- learning differences, a disability, or mental health challenges- are often marginalized and taken lightly.

Let us learn from this week’s Parsha to appreciate the importance of Kavod Habriyot: of treating every single person with the dignity and respect that they deserve. Let us also apply that lesson and extend kavod to all whom we come into contact regardless of their social or financial status: whether they be a distinguished judge or a hard working fruit peddler.

Our rabbis promise that it is through honoring others that we ourselves are truly honored:

Avot 4:1: Eizehu Mechubad? Hamechabeid Et Habriyot:

Who is truly honored? One who is careful to honor all other humans.

Seventy Years Young

70 Years Young

Rabbi Yosef Weinstock

Adopted from a sermon delivered on the Last Day of Pesach 5778

In the Hagadah on Pesach we read:

Rabbi Elazar ben Azaryah said: "Behold, I am like a seventy-year-old man,

Tradition teaches that Rabbi Elazar was really much younger, but a miracle happened whereby he underwent a drastic change in appearance. This was for his benefit; so that his rabbinic colleagues would respect him in his new leadership position. The story of Rabbi Elazar ben Azarya indicates something that Einstein would later mathematically prove: Time is relative. Age is just a number. Rabbi Elazar was “KEBen Shivim Shanah”- like a 70 year old, when really his chronological age was something different.

I think about Rabbi Elazar ben Azarya, especially this year as we prepare to celebrate the 70^th birthday of the State of Israel. For in many ways, Israel, too, is like 70 years old. On the one hand the modern State of Israel is the culmination of a hope that had existed for over eighteen centuries- since the destruction of Jerusalem by the Romans in the 1^st century CE. 

On the other hand 70 years seems like too short a time when we reflect on the tremendous accomplishments packed into those seven decades: absorbing millions of immigrants, developing and maintaining a vibrant democracy in a very challenging area of the world. At first Jaffa origins were Israel’s biggest export. Today, it’s high tech startups that are bought by companies like Apple. Jews around the world have much to celebrate, and mush to be grateful for, on Israel’s 70^th.

Time is relative. Recent events can sometimes feel like they occurred a long time ago. And sometimes, events of the distant past remain vivid and relevant

In 1936, the Peel Commission questioned David Ben-Gurion, then head of the Jewish Agency, concerning Jewish rights to the Land of Israel. Ben-Gurion understood that the underlying question was: how can Zionists speak about a single homeland for all of world Jewry, after 2 thousand years of exile and dispersion? Is it really true that Jews of Russia and Jews of the Middle East and Jews of South America still constitute one nation? The following is an excerpt from his testimony:

'Three hundred years ago, a ship called the Mayflower set sail to the New World. On it were Englishmen unhappy with British society and government, who sought an uninhabited coast to settle and establish a new world. They landed in America, and were among the first pioneers and builders of that land.

'This was a great event in the history of England and America. But I would like to know: Is there a single Englishman who knows the exact date and hour of the Mayflower's launch? How much do American children — or grownups — know about this historic trip? Do they know how many people were in the boat? Their names? What they wore? What they ate? Their path of travel? What happened to them on the way? Where they landed? The name of their captain? The conditions of the sea during the journey?

 'More than 3,000 years before the Mayflower set sail, the Jews left Egypt. Any Jewish child, whether in America or Russia, Yemen or Germany, knows that his forefathers left Egypt at dawn on the 15th of Nisan. What did they wear? Their belts were tied, and their staffs were in their hands. They ate matzot, and arrived at the Red Sea after seven days.

 'He knows the path of their journey through the desert and the events of those forty years in the desert. They ate manna and slav birds and drank from Miriam's well. They arrived in Jordan facing Jericho. The child can even quote the family names from the Torah.

 'Jews worldwide still eat matzah for seven days from the 15th of Nisan. They retell the story of the Exodus, concluding with the fervent wish, "Next Year in Jerusalem." This is the nature of the Jews.'

(Quoted from 'The Jewish Case Before the Anglo-American Committee of Inquiry on Palestine' (Jerusalem, 1947), p. 63, 65.)

The Mayflower is history. Over time, the details of that story begin to fade from memory. The Exodus is OUR story. No amount of time distances us from the relevance and pride that we attach to the specifics of those events. The same is true concerning Medinat Yisrael. The Promised Land was the destination God had in mind all along when He promises to take us out of Egypt. Our task is to develop a personal relationship with Israel, and by doing so we will surely cherish her and take pride in every one of her achievements. 

A strategy for developing that appreciation emerges from the two other Rabbi Elazar ben Azarya quotes in that paragraph from the Hagadah:

“I could not win [the argument against the other sages] having the exodus from Egypt recited at night, until Ben Zoma derived it [from a Biblical source].”

Rabbi Elazar learns from Ben Zoma that we recall the Exodus even at night. Halachically this means that the third paragraph of Shema (which references the Exodus) is recited at night also, and not just during the daytime. However the implications of Ben Zoma’s teaching goes much further. Even in the darkest moments of Jewish history Jews have found strength from the story of Yetziat Mitzrayim – the story of our nation’s founding and the moment when God chose us as His People. Just as recalling the Exodus is appropriate “at night”, so too recalling the dark chapters of Jewish history allow us to better appreciate the miracle of the State of Israel.

The justification for Medinat Yisrael is not the tragic events of the 20^th century. We know that the Jewish claim to Israel goes back to Creation, and at least 4000 years to God’s promise to Avraham. And yet we dare not be blind to the juxtaposition of the Holocaust followed by the establishment of Israel. Appreciating this flow of narrative makes us more grateful and more appreciative for Medinat Yisrael.

Lastly, Rabbi Elazar ben Azarya quotes the teaching of the Chachamim:

But the Sages say: "Days of your life" means the present world; "All the days of your life" includes also the era of Mashiach.

Our relationship with Israel is not merely predicated on Jewish history, but on Jewish destiny as well. As Religious Zionists we believe that our story, individually and collectively, will be linked more and more with Israel in the future. The question we must ask is: what are we doing to inject Israel into our story, into our identity? Are we learning about Israel? Are we visiting Israel? Are we supporting Israeli causes? Are we including Israel more and more into our story? And are we seeking ways in which we can be included in Israel’s story?

So let us celebrate Israel’s birthday- 70 years young. As she reaches KeBen Shivim Shanah, it is an appropriate time to be grateful, to be joyful and to consider the formative and transformative ways that Israel has been a part of our Jewish past, our Jewish present and our Jewish future.

The Death of the Righteous Shall Atone: Reflections on Yom HaShoah and Yom Hazikaron

The Death of the Righteous Shall Atone: Reflections on Yom HaShoah and Yom Hazikaron

“The death of the righteous shall atone.”  Does that sound Jewish to you? For some at first glance it may even sound a little Christian. And yet that is the language utilized by the Talmud Yerushalmi to explain the connection between Yom Kippur and the deaths of Nadav and Avihu, both found in Parshat Acharei Mot. The first depiction of the death of these two sons of Aharon is in Parshat Shemini.

Rabbi Chiya ban Abin said…… just as Yom Kippur atones for the Jewish People, so too do the deaths of the righteous atone. (“Mitatan Shel Tzadikim Mechaperet”)

The literal interpretation of this Talmudic phrase did not sit well with Rabbi Baruch Epstein, author of the Torah Temima.  He suggests that we understand Mitatan Shel Tzadikim mechaperet in light of a story concerning the death of Shaul, the first King of Israel, as described in Shmuel Bet (Chapt 21):

And they buried the bones of Saul and Jonathan his son in the country of Benjamin in Zela, in the sephulcre of Kish his father; and they did all that the king commanded. And God was entreated for the land after that.

ידוַיִּקְבְּרוּ אֶת עַצְמוֹת שָׁאוּל וִיהוֹנָתָן בְּנוֹ בְּאֶרֶץ בִּנְיָמִן בְּצֵלָע בְּקֶבֶר קִישׁ אָבִיו וַיַּעֲשֹוּ כֹּל אֲשֶׁר צִוָּה הַמֶּלֶךְ וַיֵּעָתֵר אֱלֹהִים לָאָרֶץ אַחֲרֵי כֵן:

Rabbi Epstein explains that God showed compassion to the people in response to their appropriately mourning Shaul and appreciating his accomplishments and his legacy.

Mitatan shel Tzadikim Mechaperet is premised on the obligation we have in this world to be Makir Tov: to acknowledge the accomplishments of those who have passed - especially when they died Al Kiddush Hashem.

The Torah Temima’s explanation is important for us to consider- especially now as we find ourselves on the calendar between Yom Hashoah and Yom Hazikaron, Holocaust Remembrance Day and Israel’s Memorial Day for those who have died in defense of Israel. Both of these days mourn the passing of Kedoshim, martyrs, and also Tzadikim- righteous souls.

 A student once approached Rav Auerbach and asked for a timeout from his studies so he could travel north to pray at the graves of Tzaddikim. Rabbi Shlomo Zalman looked perplexed but didn’t immediately answer. Sensing hesitation from his Rabbi, the student elaborated, explaining he had some personal issues to think through and he felt praying by the righteous would help. Rabbi Auerbach replied that he fully understood what the student wanted to do and why he wanted to do it, but could not understand why he would travel four hours to pray by the graves of a few Tzaddikim when there were thousands of them buried on Har Herzl (Israel’s military cemetery), just five minutes from the yeshiva!

Every day, someone would drive Rabbi Auerbach from his home in Sha’arei Chesed to his Yeshiva in Bayit Vegan. The Rabbi would occasionally ask the driver to pull over for a few moments outside Har Herzl, where he would recite Tehillim at kivrei Tzadikim, the graves of the righteous women and men who served and sacrificed on behalf of the State of Israel.

Mitatan shel Tzadikim Mechaperet, the death of these Tzadikim can serve as a source of atonement and spiritual inspiration and growth; but only if we learn the lessons from their lives and the circumstances surrounding their deaths.

If we utilize Yom HaShoah and Yom Hazikaron appropriately then not only will Mitat Tzadikim Mechaperet, but we will merit the fulfillment of the verse in Av Harachamaim- V’Chiper Admato Amo; may we be worthy to fully appreciate the gift of the State and Israel and celebrate its birth with full religious passion, as it deserves.