Dream Big – And Appreciate Their Fulfillment

 The halacha is that just as the schach can’t be too thin (it must block a majority of the sun), it also shouldn’t be too thick. The Halacha states that one should be able to see the stars from inside the sukkah. Rabbi Moshe Chaim Luzzatto writes that stars serve as the pipeline through which heavenly influences are brought into the physical world. According to Rav Soloveitchik we must be able to see the stars from our sukkah in order to keep our horizons broad. The Rav explained that man's problem is that his personal schach obscures his vision. When seeing the stars, we remind ourselves that there is a whole universe out there full of possibilities and promise. Perhaps it is because stars represent aspirations that they also figure prominently in dreams. The most famous dream that entailed stars was Yosef’s dream. Even as we build a sukkah for ourselves and provide for current, pressing needs we must continue to look to the stars and dream. One dream on many of our minds is the promise of a day when Hashem will spread His Sukkah of Peace upon all of Israel and the Jewish People. As we dream and work towards yet unfulfilled dreams, should remember that sometimes we can be living a dream and we don’t appreciate it

An American investment banker was at the pier of a small coastal Mexican village when a small boat with just one fisherman docked.  Inside the small boat were several large yellowfin tuna.  The American complimented the Mexican on the quality of his fish and asked how long it took to catch them. The Mexican replied, "Only a little while." The American then asked why didn't he stay out longer and catch more fish. The Mexican said he had enough to support his family's immediate needs. The American then asked, "But what do you do with the rest of your time?" The Mexican fisherman said, "I sleep late, fish a little, play with my children, take siestas with my wife, Maria, stroll into the village each evening where I sip wine, and play guitar with my amigos.  I have a full and busy life."

The American scoffed, "I am a Harvard MBA and could help you.  You should spend more time fishing and with the proceeds, buy a bigger boat.  With the proceeds from the bigger boat, you could buy several boats, eventually you would have a fleet of fishing boats.  Instead of selling your catch to a middleman you would sell directly to the processor, eventually opening your own cannery.  You would control the product, processing, and distribution.  You would need to leave this small coastal fishing village and move to Mexico City, then LA and eventually New York City, where you will run your expanding enterprise."

The Mexican fisherman asked, "But, how long will this all take?" To which the American replied, "15 - 20 years." "But what then?" Asked the Mexican. The American laughed and said, "That's the best part.  When the time is right you would announce an IPO and sell your company stock to the public and become very rich, you would make millions!" "Millions - then what?" The American said, "Then you would retire.  Move to a small coastal fishing village where you would sleep late, fish a little, play with your kids, take siestas with your wife, stroll to the village in the evenings where you could sip wine and play your guitar with your amigos."

On Sukkot as we look at the stars, let us not forget where we are sitting. From a historical perspective the fact that we have a State of Israel is the fulfillment of the dreams of so many previous generations. Furthermore, Vilna Gaon points out that dwelling in the sukkah is an incredible mitzvah that can be performed with our entire bodies- even with the dirt on our shoes. We need to see the stars from our sukkah. It reminds us to broaden our perspective and to reach for the stars. But before we get carried away by the stars and all of those endless possibilities we should ask ourselves: is there any greater ambition than to be surrounded by family and friends fulfilling a mitzvah with every fiber of one’s being, especially today in 5786 when the Jewish People have a Jewish State?

Confessing and Forgiving: The Dual Duties of Yom Kippur

 Confessing: The Rambam writes that the essence of Viduy can be summarized in three short words: Aval Anachnu Chatanu. ‘But We sinned.” There seems to be an extra word: Aval. Shouldn’t Anachnu Chatanu suffice to convey the essence of confession? “We sinned”- what more needs to be said? Rabbi Norman Lamm suggested that Aval is necessary because Aval itself is a sin: the sin of justifying, rationalizing and excusing ourselves and our mistakes. The first step towards achieving a level of honesty that we need in our lives, and especially on Yom Kippur, is to appreciate and be wary of the sin of Aval. Our formulation of Viduy with the word Aval may be based on a similar expression said by the brothers of Yosef, recorded in Parshat Miketz. When the viceroy demands that Binyamin be brought down to Egypt, the brothers realize that they are being punished for their earlier actions towards Yosef and proclaim, “Aval Asheimim Anachnu- indeed we are guilty!” No more excuses or justifications. In many editions of the Viduy we find an additional word in the preface: Aval Anachnu VaAVOTEINU Chatanu. We and our ancestors have sinned. Why do we mention our ancestors in our confession? Rabbi Chaim Friedlander explained that on Yom Kippur we must evaluate ourselves on two different planes and admit to failings in both: Anachnu Chatanu: each of us has been endowed with unique strengths and talents. There are things that we can do and accomplish that no one else can or will. On Yom Kippur we confront the ways in which we squandered those talents and did not live up to our potential. But the picture is incomplete without a mention of Avoteinu. Each of us have parents, grandparents from whom we should have learned. We learn from their accomplishments. And we may be able to learn from their shortcomings too. We are called upon to apply the values and lessons from our past in order to pave the way to a brighter future.

Forgiving: Once on the evening before Yom Kippur, Reb Elimelech of Lizhensk was asked the proper way to observe the custom of kaparot. "You want to see an extraordinary kaparot?" replied Reb Elimelech. "Go observe how Moshe the tavern-keeper does kaparot.” The chassid located Moshe's tavern at a crossroads several miles outside of Lizhensk and asked to stay the night. "O.K.," said Moshe. "We'll be closing up shortly, and then you can get some sleep." Later that night Moshe herded his clientele of drunken peasants out the door. The chairs and tables were stacked in a corner, and the room, which also served as the tavern-keeper's living quarters, was readied for night. Before dawn, Moshe rose from his bed, washed his hands and recited the morning blessings. "Time for kaparot!" he called quietly to his wife, taking care not to wake his guest. "Yentel, please bring me the notebook -- it's on the shelf above the cupboard."Moshe sat himself on a small stool, lit a candle, and began reading from the notebook, unaware that his guest was wide awake and straining to hear every word. The notebook was a diary of all the misdeeds and transgressions the tavern-keeper had committed in the course of the year, along with the date, time and circumstance of each. His sins were quite ordinary: a word of gossip one day, oversleeping on another, neglecting to give his daily coin to charity on a third. But by the time Moshe had read through the first few pages, his face was bathed in tears. For more than an hour Moshe read and wept, until the last page had been turned."Yentel," he called to his wife, "Now bring me the other notebook." This, too, was a diary: of all the troubles and misfortunes that had befallen Moshe in the course of the past year. On this day Moshe was beaten by a gang of peasants, on that day his child fell ill. In the dead of winter the family had frozen for several nights for lack of firewood. Another time their cow had died, and there was no milk until enough rubles had been saved to buy another.When he had finished reading the second notebook, the tavern-keeper lifted his eyes heavenward and said: "So you see, dear Father in Heaven, I have sinned against You. Last year I repented and promised to fulfill Your commandments, but I repeatedly succumbed to my evil inclination. But last year I also prayed and begged You for a year of health and prosperity, and I trusted in You that it would indeed be this way.

"Dear Father, today is the eve of Yom Kippur, when everyone forgives and is forgiven. Let us put the past behind us. I'll accept my troubles as atonement for my sins, and You, in Your great mercy, shall do the same." Moshe took the two notebooks in his hands, raised them aloft, circled them three times above his head, and said: "This is my exchange, this is in my stead, this is my atonement." He then threw the notebooks into the fireplace, where the smoldering coals soon turned the tear-stained pages into ashes.

Hakhel Moments

The 612^th Mitzvah is described in Parshat Vayelech as a national gathering that would take place on the second day of Sukkot during the year after Shemitah. The Talmud in Sota paints for us the scene: Millions of Jews – men and women, children as young as infants, scholars and laypeople alike, assembled in Jerusalem on the Temple Mount. A hush falls over the mammoth crowd, as the royally bedecked king of Israel ascends on to a platform and reads sections of the holy Torah. The nation is inspired and invigorated. A display of unity and a statement of purpose converge to revitalize and refocus the entire nation. This scene repeated itself in ancient Jerusalem every seven years (almost 200 times) for over 1300 years. The first Hakhel took place 22 years after the Jews entered the Land Of Israel. Since there was no king at the time, Yehoshua read the Torah selections in Shiloh. Historians believe that the last Hakhel took place in 40 CE with Agrippas the Second leading the service. With the destruction of the Temple, Hakhel was discontinued, but never forgotten from our national memory. The idea of reviving the mitzvah of Hakhel in modern times was first proposed by Rabbi Eliyahu David Rabinowitz-Teomim, known as the Aderet, who was the father-in-law of Rav Kook. He wrote two pamphlets on the issue and felt that Hakhel’s message was crucial and relevant and deserved commemoration in an active way.  The first official Israeli ceremony of Hakhel was held during Sukkot of 1945. A special service was held in the Yeshurun Synagogue, after which a mass procession marched to the Western Wall where the specified Torah portions were read. The ceremony seven years later, in 1952, was the first for the newly established State of Israel. I believe there are three lessons for us to learn from the mitzvah of Hakhel. The first lesson is the importance of showing up. The pasuk begins: “Hakhel Et Ha’Am” “Gather the People”. The Sefer Hachinuch writes that the mitzvah is for all people to show up; your attendance at Hakhel is both mandatory and necessary. Hakhel teaches us not only the importance of being physically present, but also the importance of being fully present in every way: emotionally, psychologically and spiritually. Hakhel is also a lesson in Jewish unity. Real unity is accomplished when diverse people come together in unity of purpose, when they are able to put aside their differences in pursuit of a shared experience or common goal. Hakhel is a re-enactment of Matan Torah, at which time everybody was present K’Ish Echad B’Lev Echad. Lastly, Hakhel reminds us that learning occurs not only through information, but through experiences. According to many commentators, even very young children, those whose parents are not yet obligated in the mitzvah of Chinuch, also have to attend. In Masechet Chagiga, Rabbi Elazar ben Azarya explains that even young children are brought “in order to give reward to those who bring them.” The reward that is referred to is the indelible imprint that the experience will have on the child.  Tosfot in Chagiga note that Hakhel is the basis for the practice of bringing young children to shul. Hakhel teaches us the importance of providing experiences even for young children that will foster a love for shul and Mitzvot. Over the next few weeks we will spend more time than usual in shul. I urge all of us to take advantage of these Hakhel moments when we can be inspired by the power of our community (Our Big Boat) and feel that we are part of something larger. I especially urge parents of children to find age-appropriate opportunities to bring your kids to shul to be, and to feel, a part of the Tzibur. Some examples of these moments are: Friday Night Kabbalat Shabbat, part of Shabbat or Yom Tov morning davening, Sukkah Hop, Mini Hakafot on Erev Simchat Torah and our Grand Community Hakafot (at night) for adults, children and families and Kol HaNearim on Simchat Torah day.

          

What We Create on Rosh Hashanah is Real and Permanent

Rabbi Matisyahu Salomon zt’l in his book with Hearts Full of Faith tells the story about Yom Kippur with the Mir Yeshiva during World War II when they were in Shanghai, China. It was unusual due to the location but also exceptional in terms of the kavanah and prayer atmosphere. Towards the end of the day, right before Neilah, Rav Yechezkel Levenstein, the Mirrer Mashgiach, shared the following idea that I believe can be useful for us as we embark on our journeys into Rosh Hashanah and through Aseret Ymei Teshuva.  He explained how many of the students present were probably thinking that this moment of inspiration will pass. Tomorrow we will slip from the high place onto which we have climbed today. “So what did we accomplish? What was the use?” you might ask. Rav Levenstein answered by way of a parable: "There was once a man who built himself a beautiful mansion. During the celebration upon finishing the mansion, he decided that he would climb up and place a beautiful ornament on the top of the roof. That great day came when he finished his mansion, and he made a special celebration and invited all his friends and family. The moment came when he climbed up to the roof to place the beautiful ornament. But just at that moment, a sudden gust of wind blew him off the roof. He dropped the ornament and fell to the ground. Dazed and in agony, he cried out, 'Oy, my mansion has fallen down. My mansion has fallen down.' His friends and family reassured him, 'Your mansion hasn't fallen down. You have. You may have broken bones and have to go to the hospital. But when you recover the mansion will still be there. You'll be able to go into it. It hasn't fallen down.” Rav Chazkel concluded, "My dear children, we built a mansion over the Yomim Noraim. Every prayer that we offered up is like a different room, and all together we have constructed a beautiful mansion. If tomorrow we feel that we have lost some of our inspiration, I want you to know that the mansion hasn't fallen down. It will be we that have fallen down. The mansion will still be standing. It will stand forever. One day, we will enter that mansion once again. When and how, that depends on us, but the mansion will always be there waiting for us. It will be there forever." Rabbi Salomon reflected on this story and wrote, "Rav Chazkel's words of encouragement to his students in the heat of a world war are an important lesson to all of us. When we stand in the shul and prepare to pray to G-D, the thought can sometimes be so intimidating that we may lose heart. We know that it will take so much emotional and spiritual effort to reach the highest level of prayer that we aspire to. Who knows if we will be successful? And even if we are, will we be able to maintain ourselves on that high level? Or will we fall back to earth, so to speak? And if we do, is all the effort worthwhile? The answer is, yes, most definitely yes. All the effort is indeed very worthwhile, because every transcendent prayer builds us a beautiful mansion. And no matter what happens, that mansion will endure forever." Davening on Yomim Noraim sounds different, looks different, and feels different. We are probably not in our usual seats nor our usual Shabbat location. Beyond that we may worry that any connection or growth that we feel over Rosh Hashanah will be fleeting. If we feel that, let us remember the story of Rav Levenstein. What we do and create over Rosh Hashanah is real and permanent and can never be undone or taken away.  Over this upcoming Tishrei season Let us try to build as beautiful a mansion as we can. In this merit, Hashem should inscribe us in the Book of Life for a healthy, happy and sweet New Year.

If We Can’t Move On, We can Still Move Forward

 One of the most notable, yet not well known, acts of valor that occurred on September 11, 2001 was the maritime evacuation of Lower Manhattan. It was the largest water evacuation in American history.  500,000 people were transported to safety in approximately nine hours by hundreds of vessels that answered a call from the U.S. Coast Guard to converge on New York Harbor to aid in the evacuation. In her book, Rebecca Solnit quotes Professor Charles Fritz who helped lead the University of Chicago’ Disaster Research Project in the 1950’s. While conventional wisdom was that disasters bring out the worst in people (think looting or better yet hoarding hand sanitizer) the opposite is much more common. “The widespread sharing of danger, loss and deprivation produces intimate primarily group solidarity among the survivors, which overcomes social isolation, provides a channel for intimate communication and expression, and provides a major source of physical and emotional support and reassurance.” Survivors often feel “a feeling of belonging and a sense of unity rarely achieved under normal circumstances. Everyone understands that this intense solidarity and altruism is but a “temporary utopian society”. Nonetheless it teaches us something important about the human ability to respond to challenges in positive ways. After the utopia wears off, many people go back to relative normalcy. For others survivors, the events of 9/11 continue to challenge them – even 24 years later. One such person is Virginia Buckingham. She was the head of Boston’s Logan Airport on 9/11, the origin of the two planes that crashed into the Twin Towers in New York City. After 9/11 many people, including the media, politicians and some families of victims, wanted to blame Logan Airport and Buckingham specifically for a “failure to prevent” the terrorists from boarding their flights. Never mind that this was pre- TSA, when the airlines were responsible for safety measures at the terminal. Never mind that the focus at airports was on customer service (you could get to the airport 30 minutes before departure), not security. Never mind that Logan’s security was the same, or better, than the security at all other US airports. In the aftermath of an unprecedented catastrophe people want to find a scapegoat, someone that they can blame. The thinking goes that if we find someone to blame we can feel more secure that the problem can be solved, we do not have to worry about it happening again and we can go back to their lives as before. Soon after the attacks Buckingham was asked to resign. She was sued individually by a couple of families who wanted to find her personally responsible. This led Buckingham to question herself: Maybe I am guilty. Maybe I should have known about the threat and stopped them from happening. In her memoir On My Watch, Buckingham tells her story of trauma, grief, depression and resilience.  She warns us about the tendency and dangers of scapegoating (good Yom Kippur topic). Ultimately the 9/11 Commission found that Logan Airport was as secure as every other US airport. Both the airport and Buckingham were blameless, and the lawsuits were dismissed. However that did not lead to Virginia immediately forgiving herself and moving on. In fact, as she puts it, she can never move on, only move forward. She does not expect to ever fully recover from her experience. She hopes that she can use those experiences to grow and become a better person. Buckingham lives in the coastal town of Marblehead MA. Due to her many walks along the shore she came to see herself like a piece of sea glass. “Sea glass comes from a broken bottle that the sea has tossed about. It’s completely unrecognizable from what it started as. But it still has value. It’s still beautiful.” These are valuable thoughts as we engage in the challenging yet worthwhile work of Elul and prepare for Yomim Noraim.

Putting Praise into Proper Perspective

 In Parshat Ki Teitzei the Torah says, ווְלֹֽא־אָבָ֞ה ה אֱ-לֹהֶ֨יךָ֙ לִשְׁמֹ֣עַ אֶל־בִּלְעָ֔ם וַיַּֽהֲפֹךְ֩ ה אֱ-לֹהֶ֧יךָ לְּךָ֛ אֶת־הַקְּלָלָ֖ה לִבְרָכָ֑ה כִּ֥י אֲהֵֽבְךָ֖ ה אֱ-לֹהֶֽיךָ: But the Lord, your God, did not want to listen to Balaam. So the Lord, your God, transformed the curse into a blessing for you, because the Lord, your God, loves you. The difficulty with this Pasuk is that in Parshat Balak, we find no reference to any curse uttered by Bilaam that God would have had to reverse into a blessing. Balak, the King of Moav, wanted Bilaam to curse the Jews; but Bilaam only managed to express blessings before Balak fires him. Taking note of this difficulty, Rabbi Yochanan in Masechet Sanhedrin (105b) teaches us: “From the blessings pronounced by that wicked man (Bilaam), you can deduce what was actually in his heart.” Some understand Rabbi Yochanan to mean that Bilam actually wanted to say the opposite of the blessing that emerged from his mouth. But what if Bilaam’s evil intent was predicated on actually saying blessings? Praise can be given with two different intentions. I can give praise that encourages the recipient to strive and want to do better. Or I can give praise that causes the person to feel that they have no reason to work any harder. Psychologists today are concerned that in America we are raising a generation of over-indulged children. One of the symptoms they see is parents who are prone to over-praise. Although it may come from noble and loving motivations, over-praise can backfire and make the child addicted to praise. It can give that child an unrealistic notion of his own capacity and talent. It can also lead a child to reason that she does not need to strive for improvement, because praise will be offered regardless. Bilaam as a prophet understood that praise can be extremely motivating or extremely harmful. His words were meant to lull Bnei Yisrael into a sense of complacency. There was no accompanying call to action or improvement within Bilaam’s blessings. It is when people feel that there is nothing more to achieve that they are most prone for complacency and failure. Through his blessings, Bilaam was attempting to convince Bnei Yisrael that they have already achieved far beyond what was to be expected of them. Inherent within Bilaam’s supposed blessing is the message that they were fine just as they were, even if they did not improve anymore, and even if they slacked off a bit. As we guard ourselves against the repercussions of over-praising we must be careful not to go to the other extreme. A few years ago parents in Nashville Tennessee complained that schools were publicizing the names of students who made honor roll or attained other academic achievements. They were concerned that the publicity would harm the self-esteem of some of the non-honor students. A school attorney found an old Tennessee state law that prohibits the release of a student’s academic records without parental consent. In response, the schools stopped publicizing the honor roll. One school refused to publicize the name of their Spelling Bee winner. A principal was not allowed to release the names of the high scorers from a school basketball game. In the end sanity prevailed, and Nashville schools once again publicize honor roll students- only now it is only with a parent’s permission. We must be on guard for excessive praise, but we should also be wary of any effort that seeks to overemphasize all achievements or to ignore all of them equally. According to this philosophy, either everyone gets praised or nobody does. This is an incorrect and potentially dangerous and demotivating philosophy. As the story of Bilaam taught, the way one praises/ blesses others indicates our true feelings for that person. Let us be careful that our praise – for ourselves, our shul and each other- be heartfelt, realistic, and used as motivation for reaching even greater achievements.

Elul Encouragement: Shofar Then L’Dovid

 Two of the well-known customs during the month of Elul are performed one right after the other at the end of Shacharit services: the blowing of the shofar and the recitation of Tehillim Chapter 27 “L’Dovid Hashem Ori”. Of the two customs, shofar blowing during Elul is more established and referenced earlier and more often in books of Jewish law. Due in part to its more established status, some Rabbis believed that the proper order of operations is to recite Psalm 27 first and end services with the sound of the shofar. Although this makes a lot of sense and would seem to be a more dramatic way to end services, it is not the customary order of operations in most synagogues, including ours. We blow the shofar and then recite “L’Dovid”. We can get a better understanding of why we do what we do by briefly reviewing the reason for each custom.  The Tur (O.C 581) quotes Pirkei D’Rabbi Eliezer to explain why we blow the shofar in Elul. Historically, Moshe broke the first set of tablets on the 17^th of Tammuz. After praying for the People’s forgiveness, Moshe was finally ready to ascend Mt. Sinai again to receive the second tablets on the first day of Elul. On that day, the shofar was sounded as a warning to the Jewish People not to make the same mistake this time around. In effect, the sound of the shofar during Elul is a reminder of how very difficult it is for human beings to change their ways. The sin of the Golden Calf was a once-in-history type of event. And yet, as Moshe ascends Mt Sinai to receive the second tablets the shofar is sounded to remind the Jewish People not to make that mistake again. When we hear the shofar, we too are being challenged to change our ways and perspectives. But we are creatures of habit. If the Jews who erred and were forgiven for the sin of the Golden Calf were suspected of not changing, what hope can we have? That is why we recite Tehillim Chapter 27 after the shofar blasts. As King David writes in this Psalm, Hashem is our light and our salvation. Teshuva may be difficult, but if we put our trust in Hashem then it is well within our reach. During the month of Elul, Teshuva is the natural outcome if we heed the call of the shofar and understand “L’Dovid Hashem Ori” as both a note of encouragement as well as a call to action.

Feeling Our Excitement in Life- In Torah

 Children often cannot see the benefits or detriments of their behaviors. Explaining to them why it is good or bad for them will fall on deaf ears. The future consequences of their behaviors and actions may be abstract and beyond a child’s ability to comprehend. That is why parents and teachers must often use concrete rewards and punishments in real time in order to help a child make good choices and begin to appreciate what they should be doing and what they should not be doing. For example, a parent might bribe a child with candy to go to a doctor’s appointment without putting up a fight- even though healthcare is good for that child. And a parent might punish a child if they run into the street unaccompanied in a way that the child will easily comprehend (like no dessert) because it is difficult for that child to appreciate the danger and error of their actions. We would hope that once that child reaches adulthood they no longer require these external motivators in order to do the right thing and to avoid bad things. However the reality is that humans never fully grow out of this quirk. We often engage in behaviors that are clearly bad for us- whether they are bad for our health or damaging to our neshamas. And even if we know something is good for us or the right thing to do, we may be averse to engaging in those activities if it requires a lot of effort or if it’s not enjoyable. The Torah was aware of this human quirk. That is why even after impressing upon us that keeping Torah is objectively beneficial and that straying from the Torah’s ways is objectively detrimental, Moshe is forced to succinctly articulate this truth. At the beginning of Parshat Reeh Moshe tells the people: “Behold, I set before you today a blessing and a curse. The blessing, that you will heed the commandments of the Lord your God, which I command you today; and the curse, if you will not heed the commandments of the Lord your God, but turn away from the way I command you today, to follow other gods, which you did not know.” If we don’t keep Torah and mitzvot because we appreciate their value, then we should do so because otherwise we will experience a curse- i.e. negative consequences. The pesukim use the word “today” both in regards to the blessing as well as the curse. Rashi (later in Devarim) explains that we should experience a Torah lifestyle with the freshness and excitement as if it is new to us today and every day. The Chasam Sofer asked: How does this comment of Rashi explain why the word “today” is found in regards to the curse? The Chasam Sofer explained that human nature is to need excitement and to seek it out. If a person does not find that sense of excitement, wonder and satisfaction within a Torah lifestyle then they will be compelled to seek those feelings elsewhere. It is not surprising that throughout history, less affiliated and non-observant Jews are often at the forefront of new political, social and economic movements. Instead of finding a sense of wonder and amazement within Torah – they look elsewhere. This can also explain why so many Jews who have not been exposed to the beauty of Torah, look to other spiritual traditions (such as transcendental meditation, Buddhism etc) in an attempt to nourish that void in their soul. If you are reading this message it means that you are inclined to seek inspiration and meaning from Torah and Jewish tradition. We can never take that for granted. We cannot allow our Jewish practice, identity, or pride to ever get stale. If we do, we risk looking elsewhere and turning away from the source of blessings.

The 4 Ingredients in Nurturing Jewish Identity

 Like many families, all of my children participated in Jewish summer programs this summer; two as counselors and two as campers. Anecdotes indicate, and studies have confirmed, the power of immersive Jewish experiences on shaping Jewish identity and promoting Jewish pride. Many Jewish youth will participate in formal Jewish activities with a frequency and intensity that parents don’t always see from their child at home or in school; such as daily tefilah/ attending minyan, participating in Torah study sessions, and singing/ dancing to Jewish songs. It is as if summer camp can take a child out of his/her element and preconceived notions and allow them to be more connected to their neshamas in an authentic way, without any being self-conscious or worrying about “what other kids might say”.  Over the years parents have approached me with concerns about the development of their child’s Jewish identity. Inevitably my response would include my opinion that there are three primary contributors to a child’s Jewish identity: School, Shul and Home. Both School and Shul provide outlets and opportunities to cultivate a child’s literacy, identity and sense of belonging. But it is ultimately a parent’s responsibility to ensure that their child participates and takes advantage of the opportunities afforded by Shul and School. It is also important for parents to realize that they are the primary role models for their children. Parents are children’s first teachers and primary role models. We must embody the values and observances that we want our children to internalize. In addition to Shul, School and Home one can argue that summer camp is the fourth leg that helps solidify and strengthen Jewish identity. But if someone does not attend Jewish summer camp (and even for those who do) there is great value in incorporating immersive Jewish experiences into our lives. This can be accomplished outside of the summer and can be provided by other organizations, including Shul and School.  And we can all benefit from immersive Jewish experiences, even those of us too old to attend summer camp.  Parshat Eikev contains the second paragraph of the Shema. The pasuk states (11:19): “And you (plural) must teach your children to speak these words of Torah.” Britain’s Chief Rabbi Mirvis explains that this verse is a mandate on the Jewish community as a whole to ensure that there are institutions in our community, such as schools, shuls and summer camps that are tasked with educating the next generation of Jews and helping them connect to their Jewish identity. The Torah continues in the singular – you (in the singular) must speak these words of Torah, “when you are sitting in your home, when you are on the way, when you get up and when you lie down.” The Sefer Menachem Tzion teaches us that from here we learn that what children are taught in school needs to be matched by the home environment. So when we are sitting at home, when we are engaged in our daily pursuits, when we are also on our way outside of our home when we’re at work, when we are on a family vacation, we should be living a true and authentic Torah way of life, just as our children have been taught about when they are in school, shul and summer camp. One way for parents to fulfill this mandate is by bringing our children to shul for experiential activities and events that promote these values. One event that I want to bring to your attention is Musical Hallel and Breakfast, presented by the shul and the Youth Department, scheduled for Rosh Chodesh Elul- Sunday August 24. Minyan in the Sanctuary will begin at 9 AM (musical Hallel will begin at approximately 9:30 AM) Breakfast will be served in the Social Hall following minyan. Adults, children and families are invited to attend, and sponsorship opportunities are available (contact me for sponsorship information). This will be a great way to start your Sunday, a great way to start Rosh Chodesh, and a great opportunity for us to live our values and to instill them into the next generation

Minority Influence

 Psychologist Serge Moscovici studied a phenomenon that he called “minority influence.” Usually in society we expect the majority to influence and change those who are fewer in number. But sometimes the reverse happens. The Suffragette movement in early 20^th century America is an example of minority influence ultimately leading to the right to vote for women. After conducting numerous studies Moscovici identified a number of factors that lead to successful minority influence. Among those factors are:

1. Consistency: the opinion being expressed by the minority must remain consistent
2. Confidence in the correctness of the ideas being presented by the minority
3. The minority must appear to remain unbiased, ie a willingness to hear out the other side of the argument
4. Resisting social pressure to change

22 months into the Gaza War, I believe Israel and her supporters have possessed these four criteria:

1. Consistently explaining the justness of the war and why the onus for the current toll of human suffering falls on Hamas.
2. Confidence in the justness of the operation to protect Israeli civilians
3. Regretting the loss of non-combatant lives in Gaza, and willing to investigate specific unfortunate incidents (while remaining steadfast and clear that ultimate responsibility lies with Hamas)
4. Resisting the tremendous pressure to stop the war prematurely with Hamas still in power and promising to repeat the atrocities of October 7 as often as they can.

In Vaetchanan, Moshe reminds Bnai Yisrael of their special relationship with Hashem (7:6):“For you are a holy people to Hashem; He has chosen you to be for Him a treasured nation above all the peoples on the face of the Earth.” Moshe continues (7:7): לֹ֣א מֵֽרֻבְּכֶ֞ם מִכָּל־הָֽעַמִּ֗ים חָשַׁ֧ק ה בָּכֶ֖ם וַיִּבְחַ֣ר בָּכֶ֑ם כִּֽי־אַתֶּ֥ם הַמְעַ֖ט מִכָּל־הָֽעַמִּֽים “Not because you are the most numerous nation did Hashem choose you, for you are the fewest of all the nations.” Rabbi Jonathan Sacks explained that Hashem’s choice of a nation few in number is God’s way of teaching the lesson of minority influence; that one need not be numerous in order to be great. Nations are not judged by their size but by their contributions to civilization. Our focus should not be on numbers but the power and potential impact that each individual possesses to transform the world for the better. Israel is a very small country and yet it is a very powerful country. The Jewish State garners a disproportionate, and unfair, amount of attention. This is the challenge of being Me’at, few yet important on the world stage. I believe that there is another lesson to be learned from our dual status as chosen and few in number: And that is that truth and righteousness is not necessarily determined by a majority. It is determined by objective morals and values as received in the Torah, even when those positions are contrary to what most of the world believes. Israel is not purposefully starving Gazan children, even if that is what many media outlets are saying. Recognition of a Palestinian State as a response to the war in Gaza is inappropriate, even if many western countries are planning to do so. Ki Atem Hameat mikol Haamim. Instead of lamenting our numbers, let us remember that Hashem chose us, not necessarily in spite of our small size, but because of it. Let us appreciate the possibility of minority influence and appreciate our Me’at status to better ourselves and the world around us.

Don’t Lose Sight of Your Vision

 Shlomo Hamelech wrote in Mishlei (29:18): בְּאֵ֣ין חָ֖זוֹן יִפָּ֣רַֽע עָ֑ם “without vision, the people will perish.”

Vision is an idea of the future. But more than that, it is the ability to see the present as it is and

formulate a future that grows out of and improves upon the present. People with vision are able to see

into the future without being far-sighted and remain rooted in the present without being near-sighted.

The list of sins alluded to by Moshe at the beginning of this morning’s Parsha can all be attributed to one

basic failing: Bnai Yisrael lacked vision. If we are looking for a role model for having vision, then Rabbi

Akiva is our man. The Talmud (Makkot 24) recounts how Rabbi Akiva and his rabbinic colleagues were

touring the Temple Mount in the aftermath of the Destruction of the Beit Hamikdash. Suddenly, they

saw a fox emerging from what once was the Kodesh Hakodashim. While, his colleagues wept, Rabbi

Akiva laughed. They asked him: Why are you laughing? He asked them: Why are you crying? They

responded: It’s obvious. A place that at one time was so holy that even the High Priest could only enter

into once a year, and now a fox roams through: isn’t that enough reason to cry?! In response Rabbi

Akiva explained that the prophecies of Zecharya foretelling the Messianic age could only be fulfilled

once the prophecy of Uriah which deal with the Temple Mount being plowed over, had been realized.

Rabbi Akiva was a man who saw the bigger picture. He had vision. Instead of dwelling in the tragedy of

the moment, he took solace in knowing that the Messianic prophecies were now sure to be fulfilled. We

should not be surprised by this quality of Rabbi Akiva’s. One of the earliest stories we know of him is

how at age 40 he was inspired to begin learning Torah. What was his inspiration? A rock that over time

was being worn away by dripping water. Only a person with vision could be inspired by such a sight.

Rabbi Akiva understood that real change is the type that takes years if not decades to occur. Rabbi

Akiva’s ability to have vision continued even at the time of his death. We read of his martyrdom on Tisha

B’Av. The Tamlud Yerushalmi explains that as Rabbi Akiva was being executed, he was engrossed in his

prayers. The executioner asked him how it is possible that he not feel the pain. Rabbi Akiva responded

that he rejoiced now at the opportunity to Love G-d with bechol nafshecha- with his life, and not just

with his heart and his possessions. By having vision, and focusing on the bigger picture, namely his love

of G-d, Rabbi Akiva was able to transcend a fleeting moment of unimaginable pain. It is not mere

coincidence that we explore the importance of having vision on Shabbat Chazon, named for the first

words of this morning’s Haftarah. In it, the prophet Isaiah has a chazon, a prophetic vision of the

destruction of Jerusalem and its causes. Rabbi Kalonymous Kalman Shapira, The Piasetzner Rav, was

Rebbe of the Warsaw Ghetto. His sermons and teachings were collected in the book Aish Kodesh. The

last entry in that book is from Shabbat Chazon 1944. In that drasha, Rav Shapira explains that Yeshaya

received a chazon, a vision, because The Jewish People had lost their vision. “We lost the vision of our

true goals in life, and we lost our sight of the truth. Disappointment, frustration and distractions, as well

as a lack of spiritual growth can all be attributed to one root cause: a lack of vision. It’s not enough to

make a To Do list for the day and post it on our refrigerators, or even to make goals for the week. We

need to ask ourselves: What do we want to achieve, who do we want to be in 5, 10 or even 20 years

from now? On this Shabbat Chazon, let us learn from the example set forth by Rabbi Akiva: Real change

and significant goals can only be achieved if we never lose sight of our vision.

Be Prepared to Be in the Spotlight

On November 13, 2013, CNN.com ran the following story out of my hometown of New Haven, CT: “A
Connecticut rabbi returned $98,000 in cash he found in a plastic bag hidden behind drawers of an
ordinary office desk he bought on Craigslist in September. Rabbi Noah Muroff, a high school teacher at a private Jewish school in New Haven, discovered the money while dismantling the $150 desk to move it through a narrow doorway. “The desk did not fit … by just a fraction of an inch,” Muroff said.He said he unhooked file cabinet drawers and removed the top of the desk. Then came the unexpected surprise.
“Without detaching the desk, Muroff said, “this money, which was behind the drawers, was totally
inaccessible.” The rabbi and his wife, Esther, were in total shock. “We were looking at each other and
laughing,” he said. “This kind of thing only happens in the movies.” On the evening of September 2, just days before Rosh Hashanah, the Jewish New Year, Muroff and a friend picked up the desk from a
woman, Patty, who lives just outside of New Haven. Muroff declined to identify the owner further. “I
knew this was her money,” he said. “She told me she bought the desk from Staples and put it together
herself.” Within 20 minutes of finding the money, around 11:30 p.m. that same evening, Muroff called
Patty. “She was speechless, without words,” he said. Muroff said the former owner told him she put her
inheritance in the desk and after a while forgot it was there. “I do not think there are too many people
in this world that would have done what you did by calling me,” Patty wrote in a thank you note to
Muroff that CNN obtained. The couple took their four children with them to return the money the next
day, hoping their good deed will send “the message of honesty and integrity,” he said.

It has been reported that people refer to these types of a kiddush Hashem opportunities as a “Muroff
Moment,” whether it’s returning extra change to a cashier who made a mistake, or this story Rabbi
Muroff heard from a boy at the Clifton Cheder in New Jersey: “He bought a sefer from Z. Berman as a
gift for his rebbe. And he found something like $2,000 cash inside the book. He called them back to
return it — and made sure to tell me that he was inspired by my story.” At first Rabbi Muroff and his
wife kept their good deed quiet and to themselves. A few months later, though, he spoke with Rav
Shmuel Kamenetsky, who encouraged him to share the story. So he shared it with a local television
station. The story blew up all over newspaper and television channels in the U.S., Canada, Israel, and
elsewhere. One TV station went out and asked people on the street what they would have done. Their
reactions were mixed. One woman said, “I would have returned the money.” But others weren’t so sure.
Another woman said, “I would wait and see if they asked for it back.” And one man chimed in,“Finders,
keepers.” Within the Jewish community this story continues to inspire. A picture book, The Surprise in
the Desk, written by Carol Ungar, was published by Hachai in 2020. And in 2022 Yaakov Schwekey
recorded the song, “It Could be You,” featuring Rabbi Muroff. Publicizing the story allowed millions of
people to be inspired by it, thereby creating a powerful force of good that continues to positively impact
the world to this day. This is what Kiddush Hashem is all about: highlighting a person in order to bring
attention to the deed or cause thereby creating more good in the world. While the source for Kiddush
Hashem in the Torah is Parshat Emor (22:32) it can also be derived from a pasuk in Parshat Matot. The
tribes of Gad and Reuven wanted to remain on the east bank of the Jordan. Moshe told them that if
they would join the other tribes in conquering the land, they will have fulfilled their obligation and “be
clear before Hashem and before Yisroel.” “Before Yisroel” indicates that a person must be concerned
about human perception. Rabbi Soloveitchik put it this way: “One might think that one’s reputation is
his own concern; that he not care about others’ opinions. Halacha however maintains that one has no
right to sully his own reputation. His character is sacred and he is not permitted to forfeit his standing.
The human personality must be protected and not degraded.”

Two Hands - Two Mesorahs

In Parshat Pinchas we read about the appointment of Yehoshua as Moshe’s successor. Hashem told Moshe to give Yehoshua “Semicha” (his position of leadership) by literally leaning on Yehoshua with one hand (Bamidbar 27:18). A few pesukim later Moshe goes “all in” and leans on Yehoshua with both hands. Rabbi Soloveitchik explained that the two hands represent two traditions that need to be maintained. The first hand represents the intellectual transmission. Judaism contains a lot of facts, data and information. Before the Oral tradition was written down, this information needed to be committed to memory, preserved and transmitted to future generations. This required tremendous effort and dedication. Even today, with lots of books published, we need a transmission of Torah that helps us organize, prioritize and utilize all of the information passed down as part of the Oral Tradition. Moshe taught many students, but Yehoshua was his most devoted and reliable student.

As Pirkei Avot (1:1) makes clear: After Moshe, Yehoshua was the next link in the chain of the intellectual Mesorah. And even others, such as Pinchas or Elazar HaKohen, had faster recall or asked sharper questions, Yehoshua was still the heir to the mantle of Moshe’s leadership because he possessed something more than the intellectual Mesorah.

Rav Soloveitchik quoted the Midrash that Yehoshua also tended to the physical needs of Moshe and the Beit Midrash. For instance, he would arrange the chairs in preparation for the shiur. As the pasuk in Shemot testifies (33:11) Yehoshuia never left the tent of Moshe nor the tent of the shiur.

Rav Soloveitchik points out that only Yehoshua paired his intellectual tradition with a living tradition through service and physical exertion. This is what the Rabbis call Shimush Talmidei Chachamim, situating oneself in the presence of role models- people from whom you can learn from their deeds and their values as much as from their words and their insights. To paraphrase a quote from Maya Angelou, great people are not only memorable for what they say and what they do- but also for how they impact those around them and how they make other people feel.

This impact is what Rav Soloveitchik refers to as the experiential Mesorah. It is what Yehoshua is uniquely known for and it is the reason why Moshe leaned his second hand on Yehoshua as part of the succession ceremony. In a memorial lecture for his wife Rav Soloveitchik once noted two experiences from his childhood that shaped his religious persona: “In my experience, that is in my experiential, not intellectual memory, two nights stand out as endowed with unique qualities, exalted in holiness and shining with singular beauty. These nights are the night of the Seder and the night of Kol Nidrei. As a child I was fascinated by these two nights because they conjured a feeling of majesty. As a child I used to feel stimulated, aroused, and deeply inspired. I used to experience a strange peaceful stillness.

As a child I used to surrender, using the language of the mystics, to a stream of inflowing joy and ecstasy. In a word, as a child I felt the presence of kedusha on these nights.” This is the experiential aspect of Jewish tradition, one that can be taught through words- but only to a degree. To be fully understood it must be experienced and felt. Many of our youth are now at Jewish summer camp or other Jewish summer experiences. The “secret sauce” of the power and impact of these programs is that a) they are immersive- they remove kids from their familiar environment, routine and comfort zone and b) they are experiential. Many of our Jewish day schools have noticed the power of Jewish summer camp and have found ways to bring some of the magic into their schools. Such experiences can be impactful for adults just as they are for children. At our shul I want to encourage people to seek out such experiences – as well as think about ways in which we can bring some of that experiential magic onto our shul campus and into our own programming.

Observant and Observing

 I have always been enamored by stories of great people who demonstrate their greatness through their

attention to seemingly small details. Here’s a story told about the Lubavitcher Rebbe, whose yahrtzeit

was last Sunday, 3 Tammuz. The Rebbe was well known for handing out dollar bills. The Rebbe believed

that whenever two Jews meet it should create a benefit for a third Jew as well. So when the Rebbe

received people seeking his blessing, he would give each person a dollar bill to subsequently give to

tzedaka. On the day that I went to see the Rebbe as a young boy the Rebbe was giving out two dollar

bills to each person. Most people would keep the dollar that they received from the Rebbe as a

memento / segula and give a different dollar bill to Tzedaka. The Rebbe would also give out coins to

children as he was walking in Crown Heights. One time I received a coin from the Rebbe in this fashion.

As opposed to the dollars, the general practice was for children to immediately deposit the coin into the

nearest pushka. At public gatherings (farbrengen), children would sometimes be called up one by one to

receive a coin and a blessing from the Rebbe. The Rebbe would typically extend his right hand — as is

customary in Jewish tradition. One time a boy stepped up, and the Rebbe extended his left hand

instead. This puzzled many onlookers. The right hand is associated with strength and favor; why would

the Rebbe use his left? Later, someone close to the Rebbe asked him, and the Rebbe quietly explained:

“I saw that the boy is left-handed. I wanted him to feel the same comfort and honor as the others. If I

used my right hand, he would have had to awkwardly switch hands to receive the coin. Why should he

feel different or out of place — even for a second?” Another famous story about attention to detail is

told about Rav Chaim Soloveitchik, grandfather of Rabbi Joseph B. Soloveitchik and Rabbi in Brisk. Rav

Chaim was a serious Torah scholar and communal leader, yet he requested that on his tombstone only

the words “Rav Chesed” be engraved. One year on Erev Pesach, hours before the Seder, Rav Chaim

received a knock at the door. Outside stood a poor man who said: “Rabbi, I need to ask you a question

about Seder night. Is it permissible to drink milk for the four cups at the Seder?” Rav Chaim asked his

wife to him bring five rubles, which he gave to the man and wished him a happy Pesach. When the man

had departed, Rav Chaim’s wife inquired: “Why did you give so much money to that man? One ruble

would have been sufficient to buy wine for the whole of Pesach.” Rav Chaim replied: “Since he was

asking whether he could drink milk at the Seder, I deduced that he obviously could not afford meat

either! The extra money was to purchase meat for the festival.” In reading Parshat Balak one can ask:

what exactly did Bilam do wrong? Hashem never told Bilam to turn back, so why is Bilam punished and

villainized by our tradition? Rav Hillel Mertzbach of Yad Binyamin suggested that Bilam might have been

paying attention to the “text” but he was not paying attention to the context. Yes, technically Hashem

told him he could go but the context was that He really didn’t want Bilam to go. Had he been really

paying attention he would have known the truth. Pirkei Avot contrasts Bilam with Avraham Avinu.

Avraham paid attention to everything going on around him. Avraham noticed the sun and the moon and

wondered who created them. This attention to detail led him to become the father of many nations,

including ours. Another term for people who are religious and keep Halacha is “observant”. Yes, we

must observe the mitzvot. But greatness is also found in the way that we observe and are sensitive to

everything and everyone around us.

Take Cheshbon!

 Towards the end of the Parsha we read how Sichon King of Emori did not permit Bnei Yisrael to pass through his territory. The king led his people in war against the Jews, and they were defeated in a battle in which Israel conquered all his cities including Sichon’s capital of Cheshbon. The Talmud in Gittin (38a) teaches that עַמּוֹן וּמוֹאָב טָהֲרוּ בְּסִיחוֹן. land of Ammon and Moab became purified through the conquest of Sihon. Hashem did not permit Bnai Yisrael to conquer lands controlled by their distant cousins, Ammon and Moav: Only once their lands were conquered by Sihon did they become “purified” (ie permitted) to be conquered by Bnai Yisrael. The Torah then gives some background to the Sichon’s victory in a cryptic fashion (21:27): עַל־כֵּ֛ן יֹֽאמְר֥וּ הַמּֽשְׁלִ֖ים בֹּ֣אוּ חֶשְׁבּ֑וֹן תִּבָּנֶ֥ה וְתִכּוֹנֵ֖ן עִ֥יר סִיחֽוֹן: “Concerning this, those who speak in parables say, "Come to Heshbon, may it be built and established as the city of Sihon.” Rashi explains that when Sichon was having difficulties conquering these lands, he hired two prophets, Bilaam and his father Be’or, to curse the Moabites thereby allowing for Sichon’s conquest. “Moshlim” is a reference to the evil father-son prophet team that assured Sichon of the efficacy of their curses by encouraging Sichon to “come to Cheshbon” and conquer it from Moav. The Talmud in Baba Batra (78b) suggests a non-literal reading of the pasuk: “Hamoshlim”; these are the people who rule over [hamoshlim] their evil inclination. They will say: “Come to Heshbon,” meaning: Come and let us calculate the account of [ḥeshbon] the world, i.e., the financial loss incurred by the fulfillment of a mitzva in contrast to its reward, and the reward for committing a transgression, i.e., the pleasure and gain received, in contrast to the loss it entails. “Let it be built and established” means that if you make this calculation, you will be built in this world and you will be established in the World-to-Come.” Literally Moshlim are poets or prophets, but the Talmud understands it to refer to those who “rule” over their impulses and base desires. The way to rule over our base instincts is to make a Cheshbon, an accounting, and to carefully consider the costs and benefits of our actions- both short term and long term. Rabbi Dr. Abraham Twerski noted that western society places a high premium on acting in ways that prioritize the pleasure of the moment. He suggests that this explains why credit card debt is so rampant in America, with the average household carrying $8,000 in this type of debt. If people would calculate the actual and ultimate cost of purchases they make on credit cards that carry exorbitant interest rates, their spending habits would most likely change. People would stay more within their means and delay big purchases until they could really afford them. An economy built on credit cards enables peoples to be blinded by their desires and not to calculate the true costs. This is not only a spending issue. People are often compelled to say or do something that feels good or right in the moment but turns out to be unhelpful or even detrimental in the bigger picture or in the longer term. This is how the Talmud’s homiletic interpretation overlaps with the literal reading. Had King Sichon taken a step back and looked at the bigger picture he could have realized that one potential outcome of his conquest of Cheshbon was that it would enable Bnei Yisrael to take it from him without violating the Divine edict not to battle with Moav. Sichon’s inability to “take an accounting” of all of the possible outcomes of his military action led to his defeat. Cheshbon Hanefesh, a personal accounting, is an important reflection tool, reviewing our past actions to learn lessons for the future. This pasuk in Chukat highlights the importance of Cheshbon Hanefesh as also a planning tool: a helpful way for us to consider all of the potential outcomes and to then act accordingly.  

Kids Hear Everything: Be Aware of the Consequences

 The story of Korach is both a tragedy and a learning opportunity. As the controversy heats up, it becomes clear to Moshe that the rabble rousers will soon experience a Divine punishment. Moshe told the elders to keep their distance from Datan, Aviram and anyone else associated with Korach’s rebellion. Then the Torah describes the scene right before the earth swallows up the rabble rousers (16:27): “So the elders withdrew from around the dwelling of Korah, Dathan, and Abiram, and Dathan and Abiram went out standing upright at the entrance of their tents together with their wives, their children, and their infants.” Rashi quotes Midrash Tanchuma that wonders why the Torah mentions the children and infants and explains: “Come and see the severity of machloket (dispute). The earthly courts do not punish until an accused has reached maturity, and the heavenly court does not punish until one reaches the age of twenty, but here even nursing babies were lost. The Maharal wonders why the children were punished in this instance, when the rule is that children are not liable for punishment. He explains by quoting the Midrash that both Gehinnom and Machloket were created on the second day of Creation. Maharal explains that once the children were exposed to the controversy of their parents, they became infected and ultimately suffered the same consequences as those who initiated the dispute. What these “children of the machloket” experienced was not a punishment but rather a consequence and a natural outcome of being exposed to dispute, discord and disrespect. While it is true that we do not hold children liable for their misdeeds, we cannot protect them from ill effects if their parents expose them to negative experiences. The episode of Korach was so severe that unfortunately the children who were exposed to it were also doomed, sharing in the fate of their parents. This is a lesson for all adults, and especially for parents. Children are heavily influenced by what they see and what they hear- especially from the adults in their lives. If a child hears or sees the adults in their lives acting with discord, dispute or disrespect it will have a profound and damaging impact on them, even as we do not blame them for those sins. If a child hears lashon hara, profanities or the degradation of communal institutions / leaders at their Shabbat table – we don’t blame them for the words but we cannot protect them from the moral and spiritual damage that may result nonetheless. In the pasuk I quoted earlier, the underlined phrase in Hebrew is מִשְׁכַּן קֹרַח דָּתָן וַאֲבִירָם  . It’s interesting that we refer to the encampment of Korach and his followers as a Mishkan. We normally associate the term Mishkan with the location of Divine Presence and inspiration. With the Maharal in mind, perhaps the Torah is teaching us that the home Is a Mishkan in that it contains tremendous potential. Our homes can be a place where values are exhibited and transmitted, or it can be where children learn to mimic the mistakes and foibles of the adults around them. The story of Korach reminds us of the responsibilities that each of us has to create a spiritually nurturing and uplifting environment- for ourselves and for the next generation. 

Love Can Make Us Do Crazy Things

As part of the punishment for the sin of the spies, that generation of Bnai Yisrael was barred entry into the Promised Land. As Hashem told Moshe (14:31) only the next generation would enter Eretz Yisrael “they shall know the land that you have despised.” This notion that the Jews of that time despised the Land is a sentiment repeated in Tehllim 106: וַיִּֽמְאֲסוּ בְּאֶ֣רֶץ חֶמְדָּ֑ה “they despised the desirable Land.” Rav Avraham Pam asked: How do we know that the Jews despised the Land of Israel? Perhaps they really loved the land but had no faith in Hashem, or maybe they had no faith in their ability to conquer the land. Maybe they were just afraid or unsure. Why does the Torah accuse them of despising the land? Rav Pam answered this question by citing a Halacha regarding gifting objects to a fetus that has not yet been born. The Talmud in Baba Batra states that even though we normally say Zachin L’Adam Shelo B’fanav that one can act on behalf of another entity for their benefit, even without their knowledge, that is not the case regarding a yet-unborn fetus. We say that the gift-giver is not sincere in his intentions to give, since the child is not yet born and there are plausible scenarios in which the child will not be born nor be able to receive the gift. A transaction under dubious circumstances is not binding. However the Talmud goes on to state that if a father gives a gift to his yet unborn biological child, such a gift is binding- even before birth. This is because a father has real love for his child even in utero. The possibility of something, God forbid, going wrong does not enter into his mind nor his calculations at all when it comes to his own child. Rav Pam goes on to explain that if the Jews had a deep relationship with the land then that love would have blinded them to the possibility of something bad happening. The fact that they were fixated on the possible problems is an indication that they were lacking in their love for Eretz Yisrael. King Solomon said (Mishlei 10:12) that love makes us do crazy things. Love also allows us to focus on the positive and gloss over the challenges and the problems, even when the problems are objectively obvious. There is certainly such a thing as constructive criticism. If we love someone or something then there may be ways and times when we must point out these shortcomings or these problems. But if we find ourselves focusing on problems then we must ask ourselves where is the love that would allow us to approach the problems from a different perspective? Israel is in the midst of a war with Iran. This war is of supreme, even existential, significance. Talking to people in Israel I hear their pride more than their fear. Rav Pam’s lesson about love struck me when watching a video clip of one of the first flights to land in Israel with Israelis who were desperate to return home. First it is important to take a moment to realize that in the midst of a war, thousands of people are desperate to return home and enter into a war zone. The video clip showed a flight attendant wrapped in an Israeli flag singing with the passengers with joy and determination. Love can make us do some crazy things. Love allows us to overlook many issues and problems. In this critical moment we each must ask ourselves whether there’s enough love in our lives- towards each other and towards Medinat Yisrael. 

No One Said it’s Supposed to be Easy

 Some people love IKEA furniture. I’ve had my issues with the desk we bought there. Admittedly, I am partly the cause of the problem. The desk came in a flat box in 25 pieces, I am sure that I did not properly construct it from the outset.. And if it’s not properly built initially, then you are bound to have subsequent. Full disclosure: 23 years later we still use that desk. The lesson is that things don’t have to be perfect in order to be sturdy. Nevertheless, it is true that the more pieces an object comes in, the less sturdy and impressive that object will be. In this morning’s Parsha we read about two objects that were impressively made from one single piece. The Parsha opens with the command directed towards Aharon to light the Menorah. Thereafter, the Torah provides a one-pasuk description of the menorah’s construction: “This is the workmanship of the Menorah: hammered out (Miksha) 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 even Moshe was stumped as to how the menorah was to be constructed. 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. And 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 Aron had to also be Miksha. 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 that Harotzeh Sheyachkim Yadrim: one who wants to become learned must orient towards the Menorah, on the southern wall of the Mikdash. The Gemara in Sukah (5b) states that the Keruvim resembled 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 blown (10: 10). The sound of the chatzotzrot 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. The Torah makes the point to tell us each instance: “Miksha Hi.” They’re hard to accomplish and hard to maintain. These three values seem to pull us in three different directions. Spending time learning Torah versus time spent with our families. The financial stress of paying for a Jewish education for our children, and how much happier we imagine we could be without that burden. Some people believe that such tensions and questions are symptoms of a lack 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 OK to say “Miksha Hi.” By appreciating the inherent difficulties, may we merit to enjoy the full measure of Hashem’s blessing in all of these important facets of our life.

Opportunity Costs in Avodat Hashem

 In Judaism, the concept of sin is often misunderstood. We tend to think of an Aveira as actively doing something forbidden: violating a Halacha, hurting someone, or disobeying Hashem’s mitzvot. But Jewish tradition encourages us to see that the real tragedy of sin is not only in what we do wrong, but in what we could have done right instead. Every moment we spend on something spiritually negative is a moment we are not building, not learning, not growing, and not giving. The word the Torah uses for sin is "chet", which comes from the root meaning “to miss the mark.” It implies not only a mistake, but a failure to live up to one’s potential. Sin is not just a matter of breaking laws — it’s about misusing the precious, finite time and energy we’ve been given. An aveira is not simply a negative — it’s an absence of a positive. It’s not only that we did something wrong, but that we failed to do something right. This idea is echoed in the writings of the Vilna Gaon, who taught that every moment not used for Torah or mitzvot is a loss that can never truly be recovered. Similarly, Rav Tzadok HaKohen of Lublin taught that a person will be held accountable not just for the sins they committed, but for the Torah they could have learned and the mitzvot they could have performed instead. In a sense, this perspective raises the bar for us. Living a Torah life is not just about avoiding wrongdoing, but about actively pursuing good.  This is what David Hamelech is teaching us in Tehillim Chapter 34: “Who is the man who desires life, who loves days to see goodness? Guard your tongue from evil and your lips from speaking deceitfully. Shun evil and do good, seek peace and pursue it.” Avoiding evil is just the beginning. Life is really about doing good-deeds and seeking peace. It has been suggested that a physician’s first responsibility is “Do No Harm”. Even if that is in fact an important aspect of medicine, everyone agrees that doing no harm is merely the context in which healing and saving lives- the real purpose of medicine- can occur. Towards the beginning of Parshat Naso the Torah mentions the obligation of Viduy, confessing one’s sin as an integral step in the Teshuva process. The obligation is worded as follows (5:7): וְהִתְוַדּ֗וּ אֶת־חַטָּאתָם֘ אֲשֶׁ֣ר עָשׂוּ֒. “They shall confess the sin that they did.” The last two words seem superfluous- if you are confessing a sin, it’s obviously a sin that you did. The Kotzker Rebbe explained that the reason a person should not sin is not because it is forbidden or repulsive to the person. Rather a person should not sin because they have no time to sin. If a person sticks to a schedule of daily activities, Torah and mitzvot, they should have no time to do anything else. If a person sins, they must review their entire schedule and examine where they have been lax in allowing for “idle hands” which allows for the possibility of sin. This is how we should read the pasuk: One must confess their sin, and then they must consider what they could have and should have been doing instead of the sin. When we reflect on our mistakes, we should look beyond guilt and ask a more powerful question: What could I have been doing instead? That shift changes our relationship to sin and to life itself. It reminds us that each moment is an irrecoverable opportunity for kedusha.

Bamidbar Before Shavuot

 The Talmud in Megillah (31b) teaches that Ezra instituted to read in shul the blessings and curses from Parshat Ki Tavo before Rosh Hashanah so as to fulfill the doctrine of כְּדֵי שֶׁתִּכְלֶה הַשָּׁנָה וְקִלְלוֹתֶיהָ. “that the year may conclude together with its curses”. The Talmud adds that another aspect of Ezra’s decree was to read the blessings and curses from Parshat Bechukotai before Shavuot. The Talmud notes that the Mishnah in Rosh Hashana refers to Shavuot as the New Year for fruit, and therefore it’s appropriate to read the curses before this New Year begins. Tosfot in Megilah raises the question that usually (as is the case this year) we read Parshat Bamidbar on the Shabbat before Shavuot. (The same is true regarding Ki Tavo: we read it two weeks before Rosh Hashanah). Why don’t we fulfill Ezra’s edict immediately prior to the start of the New Year? Tosfot suggest that the curses are so severe and disconcerting that we schedule a “buffer Shabbat” before celebrating the New Year. However commentators have suggested more intrinsic connections between Parshat Bamidbar and Shavuot. The Talmud in Nedarim (55) teaches that Torah is able to maximally impact those who “make themselves like a Midbar.” Just as a desert is sparse, so too a person who is humble is best suited to absorb the Torah’s lessons. While we must have Jewish pride and be proud that the Torah is ours, Parshat Bamidbar reminds us that the Torah’s way is to adopt a healthy dose of humility. The Chidah (in Nachal Kedumim) writes that the Gematriya of the words במדבר סיני is the same as the word “Shalom”.  Peace and harmony is both a prerequisite for receiving the Torah as well as an outcome of keeping the Torah. Violence in the name of religion is anathema to Jewish tradition. Before receiving it every year, Parshat Bamidbar reminds us that the paths of Torah are peaceful. Rabbi Moshe Feinstein noted that Sefer Bamidbar is referred to as Numbers, Chumash HaPekudim. We count something (or someone) that is valuable and important to us. An appropriate way to prepare for Matan Torah is to be reminded through the Parsha that every single Jew is valuable. Every single Jew is counted because every Jew counts. When we find ourselves part of a large crowd sometimes we think that we don’t really matter, or that our contributions are not necessary. We might say to ourselves “someone else will make the shiva minyan” or “someone else will contribute to the shul” or “someone else will invite that person over for a Shabbat or Yom Tov meal.” We prepare to accept the Torah by remembering that each of us counts and each of our contributions are indispensable.  Parshat Bamidbar also teaches the specifics of the encampment. The lesson is that life is meant to be lived in community and shared with others. We may be individuals but we greatly benefit from camaraderie. Therefore we must choose our company wisely. Parshat Bamidbar reminds us before Shavuot to share our lives with people who are growth oriented and who embrace the Torah. We  embrace our individuality as we grow together in the pursuit of meaning.