Seeking the Everyday Extraordinary

 

How do we go from the ordeal of the ordinary to the everyday extraordinary? The ordeal of the ordinary is a phrase I learned from Dr. David Pelcovitz a few years back. It refers to the challenge of habituation: how over time what may have once been new and exciting can become rote/ routine and ultimately even a burden. The opposite of the ordeal of the ordinary is a perspective of Everyday Extraordinary. This phrase I saw on an advertisement in an elevator at Memorial Regional Hospital for one of its medical departments. It refers to finding wonder and amazement in our everyday lives.

    Rabbi Ralph Pelcovitz suggested that Parshat Emor cautions us to avoid the ordeal of the ordinary and strive for everyday extraordinary.

    The Parsha is primarily about the Jewish holidays. But smack in the middle of the Torah’s review of the calendar it goes off on an unexpected tangent (23:22):

וּבְקֻצְרְכֶם אֶת קְצִיר אַרְצְכֶם לֹא תְכַלֶּה פְּאַת שָׂדְךָ בְּקֻצְרֶךָ וְלֶקֶט קְצִירְךָ לֹא תְלַקֵּט לֶעָנִי וְלַגֵּר תַּעֲזֹב אֹתָם אֲנִי ה:

When you reap the harvest of your Land, you shall not completely remove the corner of your field during your harvesting, and you shall not gather up the gleanings of your harvest. [Rather,] you shall leave these for the poor person and for the stranger. I am the Lord, your God.

    This is the source for the agricultural gifts to the poor of Leket Shikcha and Peah. Why does the Torah introduce these charitable obligations in the middle of teaching us about the holidays?

    The holidays are an exciting and inspiring time, especially when these holidays meant Aliyah L’regel, gathering together with the entirety of the Jewish People in Jerusalem.. But what happens when we go back to work in the fields? How do we maintain inspiration? How do we sustain excitement even for the mundane, similar to the excitement we have for Jewish holidays, Aliyah L’regel? That’s what the agricultural gifts challenge us to consider and plan for.

    These gifts- Leket Shikcha and Peah- are mentioned by the Gemara in Yevamot (47a) as serving an important role in the conversion process.

    Our Rabbis taught: “If at the present time a man desires to become a proselyte, he is to be addressed as follows: ‘What reason have you for desiring to become a proselyte; do you not know that Israel at the present time are persecuted and oppressed, despised, harassed and overcome by afflictions?’ If he replies, ‘I know and yet am unworthy’, he is accepted forthwith, and is given instruction in some of the minor and some of the major commandments. He is informed of the sin [of the neglect of the commandments of] Gleanings, the Forgotten Sheaf, the Corner and the Poor Man's Tithe.”

    Out of all possible commandments, why is the potential convert told about Leket Shikcha and Peah?

    The Talmud, like the Torah, emphasizes Leket Shikcha and Peah to sensitize the potential convert to the need to strive for the everyday extraordinary. One who is considering conversion to Judaism may have been inspired by family life- Shabbat dinners and communal gatherings. But as part of their exposure to Judaism they need to understand that Jewish living, Halacha- encompasses our daily routine. We are called upon, as Jews by choice and Jews by birth, to seek religious meaning and enthusiasm in even the more mundane aspects of existence- like going to work the field and leaving some of the crop behind for the poor.

    Positive Psychology addresses this challenge and suggests that to avoid the ordeal of the ordinary and foster a perspective of everyday extraordinary we need to bring gratitude and amazement to our lives. We can do this by counting our blessings. We can also do this by being a blessing for others.

Tzelem Elokim: An Esteemed Status and a Great Equalizer

 

In Parshat Kedoshim we read (19:35):

לֹא־תַֽעֲשׂ֥וּ עָ֖וֶל בַּמִּשְׁפָּ֑ט בַּמִּדָּ֕ה בַּמִּשְׁקָ֖ל וּבַמְּשׂוּרָֽה

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

We find the same language a few pesukim earlier (19:15):

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

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.

What’s the difference between these two commands?

 Some commentators suggest that verse 15 refers to formal judges while verse 35 refers to anyone in a position to measure something. Dr. Michal Tikochinsky suggests that beneath the surface here is a powerful statement by the Torah of the value of every person. Whether you are a fancy 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: just as a judge on a Beit Din/ Sanhedrin when he 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 standing. The Sanhedrin judge and the fruit vendor may occupy different ends of the social spectrum. Yet both of them - and everyone in between - is deserving of dignity and our respect.

 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 (19:14).

 The problem with cursing the deaf is more than just the cursing. The sin is exacerbated due to the object of that curse, ie a deaf person. The problem 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, whether different due to skin color, learning differences, a disability, or mental health challenge, are often marginalized and taken lightly.

 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 worthy of honor? One who is honored by others, one who feels honored internally and is therefore honored by Hashem.

Israel’s 73rd Birthday and the Jewish Journey of the Past Century

Marta and Yosef Motzen were Holocaust survivors. Their son, Avremi, who was a student at the Kol Torah and Shaalavim yeshivas, fell in the Lebanon War when his tank set on fire. Immediately after the shiva, his friends decided to start a Torah class in his memory, in his parents' home. There are lots of classes set up in people's memory, but how many of those classes last for 37 years in a row? The class participants started out as boys, and today they all have grandchildren. Every three weeks, like clockwork, they arrive at the Motzen home in Petach Tikva. Avremi's father, Yosef, died a few years ago, but the class continues: some of the participants are rabbis and educators, some are businessmen, one of them is a judge - and all of their families know not to schedule any events on the night of “the class at Marta's.”

Israel’s TV Channel 12 ran a story about this class in 2019.

(You can watch it here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mhPJt0baNjo) This is how the scene is described:

 

Marta sat in the living room, the number from Auschwitz on her arm, sitting across from Avremi's photograph, bearing his IDF ID number. When the friends entered one by one, and the sound of Torah learning could be heard from the living room, her face lit up. “There nothing else in the world like this,” she told me, “that people are so dedicated to elevating a friend's soul.”

That evening, after class, Marta felt ill and was hospitalized. Her son, the cantor Yaakov Motzen, recently informed me that she was growing weaker. On the eve of Yom Hazikaron 2019, Marta passed away, and she was laid to rest on Yom Hazikaron, Israel's Memorial Day. A life's journey of faith and heroism, lasting 92 years that passed through Auschwitz and Lebanon - and ended at the cemetery in Petach Tikva. This is the story of the Jewish Nation over the past century: The Holocaust, our Rebirth, our Torah. Our Hope.

We often hear about the flag of Israel in the news when a country refuses to show the flag at events such as international sports competitions. And how in recent years that has changed - in places such as Abu Dhabi and Doha.

Every year I return to these powerful words of Rav Soloveitchik zt'l, which sums up Yom HaZikaron and Yom Haatzmaut:

If you ask me, how do I, a Talmudic Jew, look upon the flag of the State of Israel, and has it any halachic value? - I would answer plainly.

I do not hold at all with the magical attraction of a flag or of similar symbolic ceremonies. Judaism negates ritual connected with physical things. Nonetheless, we must not lose sight of a law in the Shulchan Aruch to the effect that: “One who has been killed by non-Jews is buried in his clothes, so that his blood may be seen and avenged, as it is written, 'I will hold (the heathen) innocent, but not in regard to the blood which they have shed' (Joel 4:21).” In other words, the clothes of the Jew acquire a certain sanctity when splattered with the blood of a martyr.

How much more is this so of the blue and white flag, which has been immersed in the blood of thousands of young Jews who fell in the War of Independence defending the country and the population (religious and irreligious alike; the enemy did not differentiate between them). It has a spark of sanctity that flows from devotion and self-sacrifice. We are all enjoined to honor the flag and treat it with respect.

Humble Hounds and Boardroom Lions

        A few years ago in a column in the New York Times, David Brooks suggested that there are two models of leadership: boardroom lions and humble hounds.

        Boardroom lions are super confident, forceful and charismatic. They tend to be mavericks, always calling for serious and systemic change. These characteristics can be quite useful for leaders, whether in business or politics, or even one’s personal life. Yet research shows that these types of leaders can also be risky. Their confidence, coupled with a propensity towards change, can create achievements that are either fabulously successful or dismally miss their mark.

        Brooks contrasts the boardroom lion with what he terms the humble hound model of leadership. Humble hounds are less interested in their achievements and more interested in looking ahead for any weaknesses and areas of potential improvement. They are more likely to make calculated, less-sweeping changes and only after consultation with others. They depend more on team efforts, and are not interested in highlighting personal achievement. Jim Collins, author of the book How the Mighty Fall sums up the character of humble hounds as, “extreme personal humility with intense professional will.”

        In Pasuk Vav, Moshe says to Aharon: Kerav El Hamizbeiach “Come close to the Altar to perform your sacrificial service.” The Midrash picks up on the word “come near” and notes Aharon’s hesitance. He was ashamed to take on his role as Kohen due to his involvement with the Golden Calf. Only after being encouraged by Moshe does Aharon take up his priestly place.

        Moshe and Aharon are prime examples of the humble hound school of leadership. By the Torah’s own account, Moshe was the most humble of all men. In Parshat Shemini he demonstrates this humility by deferring to Aharon to take over in the Mishkan. When his words go unheeded, he is willing to respectfully listen to his brother explain his logic. And when Aharon’s logic is convincing, not only is Moshe willing to admit his mistake but Vayitav B’einav- he is willing to do so happily, without any hard feelings whatsoever. (In this week’s Parsha we also see Aharon’s humility up close. He is willing to face the consequences of his involvement in the Golden Calf episode. This is beside the fact that his entire life he was willing to serve a secondary role to his younger brother Moshe.)

        Whereas Moshe and Aharon are models of humble hound leadership, Nadav and Avihu were boardroom lions. They were intent on systemic change. According to rabbinic tradition, Nadav and Avihu would talk amongst themselves and ask concerning Moshe and Aharon, “When will these old men pass on so that we will become the new leaders of the nation?” Their fatal flaw was their arrogance. Rashi quotes the opinion that their sin was “Shehoru Halacha Bifnei Moshe Raban.” They did not show Moshe the deference that he deserved. Perhaps the clearest example of their arrogance emerges from the opinion in the Medrash that Nadav and Avihu never married. According to Medrash Rabba:

They were conceited, many woman awaited them eagerly (to marry them) but what did they say?

“Our uncle is king, our other uncle is a head of a tribe, our father is High Priest, we are his two assistants. What woman is worthy of us?”

        The deaths of Nadav and Avihu remind us of the challenges inherent in leadership and the danger that exists with arrogance. If Moshe and Aharon were willing to reassess and reevaluate their actions then all of us must be willing to do so as well, as individuals and as a community.

Yizkor: Not Sadness, Gratitude

 

      Marsha Kreuzman weighed only 68 pounds and was near death when American soldiers freed her from the steps of one of Hitler’s concentration camps where Jews were cremated.  She was 18 years old at the time and says she looked like a skeleton.

      Now, almost 90 years old, Kreuzman is still haunted by the bitter realities of her painful past. “They murdered [my father] in front of me” she said.  Her mother and brother were also killed.  There was a time, Kreuzman says, when she wanted to die too. “We knew that we were going to die, so we wanted to die sooner than later. Because of all the tortures, nothing to eat, nothing to drink, no wash, no going to the bathroom.”

      Kreuzman always wanted to thank her liberators. After settling in New Jersey she says she spent decades trying to track them down. But it wasn’t until this past October when she finally found an important clue: a 65th wedding anniversary announcement for Joe and Anne Barbella. The article, published in a local newspaper, noted that Joe was a WWII Vet and had served in the 11th Armored Division – the same unit that helped liberate the Mauthausen concentration camp.  That was Kreuzman’s camp. “I nearly fainted.  I still have a shock, really and truly” she said.

      Kreuzman looked up Joe Barbella, 93, and after a tearful conversation, visited him at his home.  As fate would have it, the two had lived in the same town -- just a few miles apart -- for more than 33 years. And they lived somewhat parallel lives.  Like Kreuzman, Barbella, also spent years talking to students about the horrors of the Holocaust -- insistent the world should not forget those who were murdered.  Two people determined to tell their stories. Now, the survivor and her liberator have become friends. Kreuzman calls Barbella a hero. “He deserves to be honored”, she said.  “Now I can rest in peace knowing that I found him and got to thank the Americans that liberated me.”

(As told by Rehema Ellis, Correspondent, NBC News.)

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      One of the main themes of Pesach is gratitude. The popular Seder song Dayeinu is an exercise in gratitude. Shira, song, is a vehicle for expressing our gratitude to Hashem. That’s why Hallel, the type we say at the Seder as well as the type that we recite as part of Pesach morning prayers all week, is called Shira, song. While anyone can (and should) feel gratitude, only free women and men have the opportunity to express gratitude whenever and wherever they want. It is therefore not surprising that the Pesach holiday culminates with the scene at the sea, during which the entire Jewish People gratefully sing the Song at the Sea. 

      On the last day of Pesach we recite Yizkor. These memorial prayers seem to be an odd choice to include in our Jewish holiday observance. However upon further consideration, Yizkor is a most appropriate way to end the Pesach season. In the context of Pesach, Yizkor is not meant to focus our attention on the sadness and loss of those dearly departed. Rather we remember these people as expressions of gratitude for the legacies they left behind and the impacts that they had on others; impacts which reverberate to this day.

      There is a custom to make a donation to our shul in memory of the people for whom we say Yizkor. Our shul is also deserving of our gratitude. It serves as a focal point for Jewish life and helps perpetuate Jewish values from one generation to the next. This Yizkor, I ask you to consider joining our Legacy Society. A legacy gift costs nothing now. But it immediately demonstrates your appreciation by including the shul in your estate plan. Please join this illustrious group of over 40 members who are already Legacy donors. To join the YIH Legacy Society just fill out this form here: https://images.shulcloud.com/406/uploads/Life-and-Legacy/FilableDOI2021.pdf

If you have any questions or to learn more, please contact me or Reva Homnick.