Beware of Turning Blessings Into Curses

The end of the Jewish year means that many people are in search of a new Jewish calendar for the new year 5782. For some reason, Publix provided us with double the usual number of Jewish calendars. So if you, your relatives, your friends- or any of their neighbors- need a Jewish calendar, there’s a stack of them available on the bookshelf opposite the shul offices.

        While each calendar year is slightly different, there are some features that are common among them. Many calendars begin with the Hebrew words “Tachel Shana Uvirchoteha”, “May the New Year begin, along with its blessing.” And most of those calendars that begin that way will end with the words, “Tichleh Shana V’Kileloteha”, “May the current year end, along with its curses”. I understand why we mention our hope for blessings to usher in the New Year. Rosh Hashanah is the time of new beginnings and fresh starts. It is an opportunity to be optimistic and hopeful. But why do we assume, already before the year begins, that by the end of the year we will have experienced curses? It is true that this past year of 5781 has been a difficult year, with much illness and challenges due to the pandemic. And it may also be true that every human being experiences some type of difficulty over the course of a year, let alone a lifetime. But why are we talking about the possibility of curses even before we have experienced any of the blessings of the new year?

        Rav Yaakov Galinsky explained that the phrase “May the year end, along with its curses” is more of a warning than a prediction. It is human nature to take for granted that which we already possess. Moreover, it is not uncommon for people over time to get accustomed to the blessings in their lives and desire more and bigger blessings. The problem creeps in when we stop expressing gratitude for those blessings and start expressing disdain. What was initially viewed as a blessing can over time begin to be viewed as a curse. We need to look no further than the story of the manna that the Jews ate in the desert. When it first began to fall, it was viewed as a great miracle. After some time the people begin to refer to the manna as “that cursed bread”.

        There’s nothing wrong with wanting more blessings in our life- so long as we never lose sight of our obligation to be grateful for the blessings that we already receive. On Rosh Hashanah before we ask Hashem to increase our blessings, let us make sure to count those blessings we already have. Let us make sure to acknowledge and give thanks to those blessings that we already possess. In the story of creation we read (2:5) after vegetation was created, it did not immediately begin to grow because it did not rain. And it did not rain because man was not yet around to pray for that rain. The Maharal learns an important lesson from this episode: “It is forbidden to bestow blessings on someone who won’t appreciate it.” Let’s make sure that we appreciate all of the blessings in our life.

        On Rosh Hashana we dip the apple in the honey. Even though apples are already a sweet fruit, we dip it in honey to express our desire for even more sweetness in our lives. Rav Galinsky points out that even though we seek to add sweetness, we make the blessing over the apple. This teaches the same lesson: It’s okay to desire more sweetness and to pray for it- so long as we continue to bless the apple, and we don’t lose sight of the blessings that Hashem already provides for us.

 

YOLO and FOMO in Elul

 

A few years ago the Oxford English dictionary added the words YOLO and FOMO. YOLO is an acronym for “you only live once.”  YOLO can be understood as the basis of the mitzvah of ma’akeh, ie to build a fence around one’s roof. You only live once- so be sure to be careful.

Two examples of FOMO in this week’s Parsha

Chapter 24: If a man divorces his wife and she remarries, he cannot remarry her again. A couple may do this because they wonder if there is a spouse better out there, a classic repercussion of FOMO. The Torah frowns on such attitudes and thereof prohibits this behavior.

Also in this week’s parsha we find the command to remember what happened to Miriam. She contracted tzaraat because of what she said about Moshe. She wondered why Moshe lived a life different than hers. While there are many interpretations, it seems that part of Miriam’s downfall was her FOMO- fear of missing out on what Moshe had, instead of realizing that every person and situation is unique, and the important thing is to try and be the best you can be and not worry so much about others.

Both attitudes have potential negative outcomes. An attitude that You Only Live Once can be related to self-destructive behavior. It has become a very popular term on social media and often refers to doing something foolish or risky because after all, you only live once.

FOMO can lead to social angst. Those who are addicted to checking their internet or social media on a constant basis- may be suffering from FOMO. FOMO can lead to a compulsive concern that one might miss an opportunity for social interaction, a novel experience, profitable investment or other satisfying event. It can make people obsess about what they’ve missed out on in the past and paralyze them as they worry about what they’ll be missing out when they make any decision or choose any path.

But there can be some positive applications for YOLO and FOMO. YOLO- you only live once, so make sure to use your time most efficiently and effectively. You only live once- so don’t push things off until tomorrow, because no one really knows how many tomorrows you actually have. YOLO- so make sure your impact on the world is a positive one.

Fear of Missing Out can be a powerful ingredient for change. We need not be afraid of missing out compared to other people’s lives, but rather a fear of missing out on our best life. If we consider the possibility that things can be better than they are today, then perhaps the fear of FOMO will help us to implement the changes we know we need to make.

It is not surprising that in a Parsha we always read in the month of Elul we find references to YOLO and FOMO. In preparation for the Yomim Noraim, the Days of Judgment, we are reminded once again (if we needed reminding) that you only live once, so make the most of it. Pirkei Avot states: A single moment of repentance and good deeds in this world is greater than all of the World to Come.

And the impetus for changing and improving can come from a healthy dose of FOMO- fear of missing out on living life to the max- in our relationships with each other and in our relationship with Hashem. Let us challenge ourselves to utilize YOLO and FOMO in a manner that leads to spiritual growth in this month of Elul and sets us on the right course as we head into Yomim Noraim.

The Effort Needed to Build Relationships

 This week I returned from our family vacation. We travelled through the Tri-State area of New York, New Jersey and Connecticut. We had a lot of family fun together, but a highlight of our trip was that we had a chance to reconnect and spend time with all of my children’s aunts and uncles, as well as most of their cousins. Many had not seen each other in close to two years.

        The Torah depicts sibling relationships as fraught with challenges, misunderstandings, even animus. The first siblings we meet are Kayin and Hevel; also the first instance of fratricide. Other times in the Torah, siblings don’t end up killing each other, but not due to lack of murderous intent and effort. The story of Yosef and his brothers is such a relationship. And even when the Torah depicts a sibling relationship that is by and large stable, there is inevitably some tensions, some sore spot that arises. One such example is the Torah’s depiction of Moshe’s relationship with his siblings.

        Beyond the Bible, too often family is taken for granted, especially when family members live in a different state and are not part of your daily or weekly life. Relationships require investment, and family relationships are no different. When we are young and the siblings all live together under one roof, we sometimes yearn for a day (or even a moment) when we are alone and our siblings are “out of our hair”. But sooner or later we grow up, and then the challenge is to find ways to maintain those sibling relationships that were just assumed and expected (maybe even resented) while we were growing up.

        Relationships don’t just happen. They require effort and initiative. They require thought and planning. They require both will and willingness. In Parshat Shoftim the Torah hints at these ingredients necessary to cultivate and maintain relationships. Just as sibling relationships are important, so too is fostering and maintaining relationships with Torah mentors and teachers. In Chapter 17, the Torah instructs us what to do when we have a question of Jewish law or Jewish practice (17:8)

כִּ֣י יִפָּלֵא֩ מִמְּךָ֨ דָבָ֜ר לַמִּשְׁפָּ֗ט בֵּֽין־דָּ֨ם | לְדָ֜ם בֵּֽין־דִּ֣ין לְדִ֗ין וּבֵ֥ין נֶ֨גַע֙ לָנֶ֔גַע דִּבְרֵ֥י רִיבֹ֖ת בִּשְׁעָרֶ֑יךָ וְקַמְתָּ֣ וְעָלִ֔יתָ אֶל־הַ֨מָּק֔וֹם אֲשֶׁ֥ר יִבְחַ֛ר ה אֱלֹהֶ֖יךָ בּֽוֹ:

        If a matter eludes you in judgment, between blood and blood, between judgment and judgment, or between lesion and lesion, words of dispute in your cities, then you shall rise and go up to the place the Lord, your God, chooses.

        Rashi notes that the words “go up” allude to the Temple Mount and the fact that the location of the Beit Hamikdash is elevated from a topography and spirituality perspective. Rashi, however, does not explain why the Torah must also command us to “rise up”. It seems that the Torah wants to emphasize that when it comes to cultivating and developing relationships, a key ingredient is “rising up” ie taking the risk and the initiative to approach the person in order to develop or strengthen the relationship.

        Chodesh Elul is an auspicious time to take the initiative and cultivate our relationship with Hashem. As the Torah suggests in Shoftim, I encourage you to do so. I, along with the rest of our Rabbis and Sara Frieberg, are eager to assist in your journey. I encourage you to “rise up”, contact one of us by phone or email and let us know how we can helpful to you on your journey.  Chodesh Elul is also a good time to remember how powerful it is to “rise up” by taking the initiative to strengthen our relationships with others, including family and friends.

The Observance of Shemitah Today

 

Parshat Reeh contains the mitzvah of Shemitah. Every seventh year, farmers in Israel are instructed to leave their fields fallow as a reminder that God is the true owner of all of the land. For close to 2,000 years this mitzvah remained unfulfilled, as there were no farmers tilling the land among the small remnant of Jews that remained in Israel. It was not until 1889 that this mitzvah became relevant once more, and the Jewish community in Israel had to navigate the fulfillment of this mitzvah with the need to cultivate and develop the Jewish presence in Israel at that time. The upcoming Jewish year of 5782 is a Shemittah year. Over the course of the year I look forward to teaching the laws and lessons of Shemitah in our day. Below is an excerpt from an article in the OU’s Jewish Action by Peter Abelow that tells the story of Mazkeret Batya. (Full article available here: https://jewishaction.com/jewish-world/israel/on_and_off_the_beaten_track_in_mazkeret_batya/)

Mazkeret Batya, came into being during the First Aliyah. Of the many generous individuals who made the First Aliyah possible, there is probably no one whose name is more recognized than Baron Edmond (Binyamin) de Rothschild. The Baron was instrumental in funding many of the twenty-eight new moshavot (settlements) built during the First Aliyah, including Zichron Yaakov, Binyamina, Bat Shlomo and Mazkeret Batya, all named in honor or in memory of members of his family. Many of the new immigrants who arrived during this aliyah were Religious Zionists, members of the Chovevei Tzion (“Lovers of Zion”) and BILU (“Beit Ya’akov Lechu Venelchah”) movements, inspired by the goal of working the land. During this period, 90,000 acres of land were purchased, thereby launching Israel’s future as an agricultural society.

One of the leaders of Chovevei Tzion was Rabbi Shmuel Mohilever. Born into a rabbinic family in Vilna in 1824, he was ordained in the famous yeshivah of Volozhin and became the rabbi in Bialystok, Poland, in 1883, a position he held until his death in 1898.

In September of 1882, Rabbi Mohilever met with Baron de Rothschild in Paris, where they laid plans for the establishment of a new settlement to be named Ekron. He returned to Poland and on October 19 recruited ten pioneering families, each of whom signed a letter indicating their readiness to move and their willingness to refund the money provided to cover the costs of travel and of reestablishing themselves. The ten heads of the families were to leave within four weeks, with their families to follow at a later date. Once in Palestine, they underwent training in farming for a year, sponsored by the Baron, and began to work the land the following November. The Baron himself visited Ekron in 1886, and renamed the moshavah “Mazkeret Batya” in memory of his mother, who had recently died.

During the two-thousand years of living in the Diaspora, the Jewish people had yearned to be able to fulfill the mitzvot that were dependent upon being in the Land of Israel. In 1889, with the arrival of the first shemittah year since the First Aliyah, the religious pioneers were presented with a long-awaited opportunity. The mitzvah of shemittah requires letting the land lie fallow for a year, and the moshavot—whose agricultural enterprises were barely getting off the ground—were confronted with a halachic dilemma. Many aligned themselves with the opinion of the Rabbanut of Jerusalem, which insisted that shemittah be strictly observed with all of its stringencies. The Baron and his representatives, on the other hand, felt strongly that economic considerations mandated the more lenient approach advocated by other Torah authorities (including Rabbi Mohilever) authorizing the sale of the land to a non-Jew (“heter mechirah”). In the end, Mazkeret Batya, in defiance of the Baron, became one of the few moshavot that strictly observed the shemittah that year; its farmers refused to work the land, choosing to endure the economic consequences of that decision.