We Are Not Trapped by Our Past Decisions

 

Parshat Reeh begins “Behold, I set before you today a blessing and a curse.” Rabbi Moshe Feinstein notes the peculiarity of the word “today” in the verse. He suggests that the Torah here is reminding us that often people think that the life that they live today is based on the decisions that they made a long time ago. And now we are trapped by those previous decisions. While it is true that decisions have consequences, and sometimes it is impossible to totally undo a decision, every day is a new opportunity. Every day we have the choice: to either affirm our past decisions and continue down the path that we have been on or to choose to do things differently. While we may feel stuck due to past decisions, the Torah wants us to always remember that so long as we are alive we have the ability to make new choices, different choices. One definition of insanity is to do the same thing over and over and yet expect different results. If we want to see changes in our life then we must make different choices and act in different ways. While this might be difficult, the word HaYom reminds us that every day is a new opportunity to make new choices. 

All Actions Have Consequences

 

By analyzing two interpretations of the word Ekev separately and together, we can suggest an important theme that emerges from Parshat Ekev.

Rashi does not treat the word literally, but rather homiletically. The word Ekev has the same letters as the word Akev, which means a heel. Rashi explains that Moshe here is warning the people not to discard those mitzvot which some would consider easy, or less important. Make sure not to step on them with your heel, says Rashi, and you will be rewarded for taking even ‘kalot’ light mitzvot seriously.

There really is no such thing as kallot, as small things. An attention to detail is necessary in all aspects of our life. As Larry Bell, 20^th cen. industrialist (founder of Bell Helicopters) once said: Show me a man who cannot bother to do little things and I'll show you a man who cannot be trusted to do big things.” The greatest rabbis are those that have a keen attention to detail, people, and causes.

The Ramban explains that the word Ekev means Baavur, literally “because of” or “as a result of”. According to Ramban, the Parsha opens with Moshe reminding the Jewish People that there are consequences to our behavior. How we conduct ourselves will have a direct impact on how G-d relates to us, or more precisely to what degree we are able to benefit from G-d in our lives. This idea forms the backbone of the entire Parsha and is important enough that the Rabbis chose the end of our parsha as the second paragraph of the Shema b/c of its emphasis on Sechar V’onesh, that there are consequences to our actions.

If we allow Rashi’s comments to inform our understanding of Ramban’s interpretation, then the word Ekev reminds us that there are consequences to even seemingly small decisions and actions. And those consequences may be significantly different or more severe than anyone would have ever imagined.

Chazal were familiar with this idea. Take, for example, Shemitah. The idea that Shemitah cancels debts was to benefit the borrowers and allow them to get a leg up every seven years. Instead, it was worse for them as people stopped lending money, Hillel had to ameliorate the situation with the Prozbul. The pages of the Talmud and Midrash are replete with examples of seemingly minor acts of goodness or evil that had consequences far beyond what anyone could have imagined. One word, Ekev, has multiple interpretations. We must appreciate that our actions have consequences.  We must understand that nothing of substance can ever be classified as kallot. Even seemingly minor actions or events can have major impact. If we keep these lessons in mind then we can be assured that that we will be worthy of all the blessings that Hashem has promised us in Parshat Ekev.

 

True Nechama through Changing Our Perspective

 The Talmud in Makkot tells us that Rabban Gamliel, Rabbi Elazar ben Azaryah, Rabbi Yehoshua, and Rabbi Akiva were walking in Jerusalem. Upon reaching Mount Scopus, they saw a fox emerging from the Kodesh Ha-Kodashim. The rabbis were crying while Rabbi Akiva laughed. They asked him, “Akiva! How can you laugh at a time like this? The Beit HaMikdash is in ruins!”

Rabbi Akiva replied, “How can I laugh?! How can you cry?”

They countered, “The Holy of Holies - that could never be entered except by the Kohen Gadol on Yom Kippur - is now a fox’s den. How can we not weep?”

“That is exactly why I laugh,” answered Rabbi Akiva. “If Uriah’s prophecy of a destroyed and barren Jerusalem can be fulfilled, then I am confident that so, too, Zechariah’s vision of a restored Jerusalem will also be fulfilled.”

The rabbis then declared, “Akiva nichamtanu, Akiva nichamtanu – Akiva, you have comforted us.”

Rabbi Akiva laughed in the face of tragedy because he realizes that consolation will ultimately come. What is difficult to understand is why the rabbis are comforted. What kind of solace is there, when the pain is so intense and so deep, to know that there will be a redemption? For that matter, how does nechama work? We read this morning, “Nachamu, nachamu ami – be comforted, my people.” So begins the shiva d’n’chemta – the seven Haftorahs of consolation that we will read until Rosh Hashanah. They are eloquent and powerful words of encouragement, and they come to strengthen our belief in an ultimate redemption, but how is this supposed to provide comfort?

Nechama is an important concept for Jews. Nichum aveilim – comforting mourners – is a very important mitzvah. There is an organization called Nechama which is dedicated to sending volunteers to trouble spots to help those who are suffering. But what exactly is Nechama?

A look at the term throughout Tanach and in the story of Rabbi Akiva offers us guidance as to what a Jew can hope for in times of sadness, tragedy, or pain. The very first time it is used is in Parshat Bereishit (6:6):

וינחם ה' כי עשה את האדם בארץ, ויתעצב אל לבו.

If we were to translate this using the word comfort, it would read that God was consoled by the fact that He created man, and His heart was saddened. Rather, we should translate the verse as, “And God reconsidered having made man on earth, and He had heartfelt sadness.”

Nechama is not necessarily about feeling better. Even our usage of the traditional expression of consolation, “HaMakom yenachem eschem besoch she’ar avaylei Tzion vi’Yerishalayim,” which we often translate as, “May God comfort and console you among all of us who mourn for Zion and Jerusalem,” is not only about comfort.

Nechama is about a change in perspective. It represents reaching a place – mentally or emotionally – where the individual recognizes that the current reality cannot be the permanent one. God recognized that his initial creation of mankind required adjustment. We encourage the mourner that she or he should, and hopefully will, find perspective in theaftermath of the loss of their loved one. And Rabbi Akiva did not make the Sages feel jovial. He, instead, gave them a new perspective on their tragic situation. The Temple may be in ruins, but there is a next chapter still to come.

The Privilege and the Challenge of Being A Star

 

Towards the beginning of Parshat Devarim, Moshe reminds the Jewish People of the challenges that he faced at the beginning of his tenure as leader (1:9-10): “And I said to you at that time, saying, 'I cannot carry you alone. The Lord, your God, has multiplied you, and behold, you are today as the stars of the heavens in abundance.” On the surface, Moshe is making the argument that the number of Jews is too vast for Moshe to lead alone. In response Hashem suggests that he appoint a number of other leaders to help tend to the people’s needs and to help answer the nation’s questions. However if we look a little closer at the two verses there may be another lesson that we can learn from Moshe’s description. Back in Sefer Bereishit God tells Avraham that he will be the patriarch of God’s Chosen Nation. Hashem goes on to say that Avraham’s descendants will be as numerous as both the sand of the sea and the stars of the heaven. Many commentators try to understand this promise in light of the reality of Jewish history and the population of the world Jewry throughout. While sand and stars both represent the blessing of many, there is an important difference between the two. Each grain of sand is insignificant, and only when many grains of sand come together does sand exhibit the great power to hold back the ocean. On the other hand, each star shines on its own. Throughout the universe there are billions and billions of stars, and each one is significant in its own right. Perhaps here in Devarim Moshe is hinting at the fact that one of his challenges in leading the people was that each one considered themselves a star. We can imagine that it could be difficult to lead a nation comprised of individuals when each of them had a Jewish mother telling them that they are the best and that they are a star. Self-confidence can be tricky. On the one hand it is critical to have a healthy degree of ego. On the other hand, it can be a big problem when a person has too much self-confidence or expresses self-confidence in an inappropriate way or at an inappropriate time. Reb Simcha Punim of Peshischa is famous for saying that a Jew should have two pockets. In one pocket should be a piece of paper saying: "I am only dust and ashes." When one is feeling too proud, reach into this pocket and take out this paper and read it. In the other pocket should be a piece of paper saying: "For my sake was the world created." When one is feeling disheartened and lowly, reach into this pocket and take this paper out and read it.

 

Mourning the Loss of Emotional Intelligence

If I may borrow a recent term from the world of psychology, the destruction of the Beit Hamikdash caused a profound loss of Emotional Intelligence. There is some dispute as to the definition of Emotional intelligence and whether Emotional Intelligence, or EI, really exists. But Emotional Intelligence is explained as the ability to monitor one’s own and others’ feelings and emotions and to use that information to guide one’s thinking and action towards healthy, constructive and positive outcomes.

The relationship between Tisha B’Av and our inability to feel for others is well documented. The Gemara in Gittin tells us that the destruction occurred due to the type of behavior that is exemplified by the story of Kamtza and Bar Kamtza; where the host at a party had total disregard for his fellow Jew’s feelings. Yerushalayim is referred to by Dovid Hamelech as Ir Shechubra La Yachdav, the original city of brotherly love. The Beit Hamikdash had the ability to unite Jews, really all humans, in the pursuit of shared goals and common values. Sinat Chinam, baseless hatred and factionalism, was the cause of the destruction of the Second Temple. But Sinat Chinam is also an outcome of the absence of our Beit Hamikdash. Without a spiritual focal point sympathy and empathy become more difficult for us. Divisiveness within the Jewish People becomes more common because each group focuses on themselves without thinking about the other. It is the most vicious of cycles: Our Sinat Chinam led to the Churban and yet without a Beit Hamikdash Jewish unity is elusive. We continue to exacerbate the problem by adding fuel to the fire

In addition to being a locus for our caring for others, the Beit Hamikdash was also the location for self-reflection and personal development. It was the site at which teshuva, repentance, would reach its apex when atonement was achieved on both a personal level (by the sinner bringing a Korban) and on the communal level (through the Temple service daily and on Yom Kippur). The Churban has not only limited our ability to feel for others, but the destruction has also we stunted our ability to feel for ourselves. We lack a critical forum for self-evaluation and self-awareness. In order to mourn for the Beit Hamikdash, we have to make sure that we are able to mourn anything- to feel something! We must strive to be emotionally aware enough to utilize our feelings in a constructive manner.

The ultimate goal of the Three Weeks is to feel real loss and mourn over the Beit Hamikdash. To help achieve that goal we add personal and contemporary facets to the mourning. But even if we don’t reach the goal, there is value in the process. If we do not properly feel the loss of the Temple, then can we at least feel something? It is not easy to be emotionally aware; it takes time and effort. That is why our mourning process does just begin on Tisha B’av. As we enter into the month of Av, let us utilize this time to develop our emotional intelligence to the degree that Tisha b’Av will be meaningful.

 

The Quest for a Truly Selfless Act

The Vilna Gaon was always careful to fulfill the mitzvah of lulav and Etrog on Sukkot, even when it was difficult to obtain those ritual items. One year, there was only one set of lulav and Etrog in all of Vilna, and the Vilna Gaon was committed to fulfilling the mitzvah at all costs. He asked the rich man if he could buy the set from him. The man said, “I will sell you my set on one condition. You agree to give me all of the reward that you accumulate due to the fulfillment of this mitzvah.” Instead of being upset or hesitant, the Vilna Gaon was ecstatic. He said, “All my life I’ve looked forward to being able to fulfill a mitzvah without the expectation of a reward. Finally now I have the chance to do a mitzvah purely for the sake of serving Hashem, ie 100% leshem shamayim.” Philosophers have debated whether it is possible for a person to commit a purely selfless act. Some suggest that if the active person does not benefit to the same degree as the beneficiary, then we should consider it a selfless act. Others suggest that since the active person gains something- a sense of satisfaction or pleasure in doing a good deed- then it doesn’t really count as a purely selfless act. Personally I don’t think we should be so strict on defining selflessness. Any time a person thinks about the other person more than him/herself I believe we can consider that to be a selfless moment. In this week’s Parsha, Moshe asks Hashem to appoint a leader who will lead the Jewish People into Israel after Moshe’s. Moshe describes the qualities that he believes are most important in his successor (27:17) “Let Hashem, Source of the breath of all flesh, appoint someone over the community who shall go out before them and come in before them, and who shall take them out and bring them in, so that Hashem’s community may not be like sheep - that they have no shepherd.” The Magid of Vilna wonders why the Torah didn’t just say “like sheep without a shepherd”. Why does the verse add the phrase “that they have no shepherd.” The Magid explained that the care that most shepherds provide for the flocks is based on self-interest. If the shepherd owns the sheep, then he wants to make sure that they are as healthy and valuable as possible. If the shepherd works for someone then he cares for the sheep so that he will be kept on in his job, or provided a bonus, or referred for another shepherd job in the future. It is the rare shepherd that actually cares for the sheep themselves. Moshe asks God to provide a successor that leads the Jews in a similarly selfless manner. Leadership can come with perks. Leaders might enjoy those perks and not be completely focused on their followers. A true Jewish leader, one that makes Moshe proud, is the one that is able to lead selflessly; for the benefit of the followers and even if it comes at the expense of the leader.

Privacy and Community: The Tension and the Blessings

 In this week’s Parsha, King Balak hires the prophet Bilam to curse the Jewish People. Hashem does not allow Bilam to do so; instead God puts into Bilam’s mouth a series of blessings directed at Bnai Yisrael. One of those blessings is recited daily in our morning prayers (24:5):

מַה־טֹּ֥בוּ אֹֽהָלֶ֖יךָ יַֽעֲקֹ֑ב מִשְׁכְּנֹתֶ֖יךָ יִשְׂרָאֵֽל:

How goodly are your tents, O Jacob, your dwelling places, O Israel!          

Rashi understands the first clause in this statement as referring to the value of privacy that Bnai Yisrael maintained. Rashi explains that Bilam was praising the fact that within the Jewish encampment in the desert, no tent openings faced each other. This allowed for privacy, even under cramped and crowded living conditions. Even when the physical area is more spacious, there is the danger within close knit communities of overlooking the value of privacy. The US Constitution ensures a right to privacy.  The Jewish value of tzniut teaches us that not everything is meant for public consumption. There is a value and a need for some things to remain private. Sometimes people have a desire to become entangled in other people’s lives, even when it is not necessary nor requested. While the motivation to get involved in people’s business may sometimes come from a place of love and concern, the outcomes can often be detrimental. Here are a few suggestions for how to mind our own business and avoid impinging on other’s privacy: Avoid gossiping. Accept other people as they are. Don’t form unnecessary opinions. Bilam saw that the Jewish People appreciated the value of privacy, and we must continue to appreciate that value today.

At the same time Judaism believes in the importance of community and helping our neighbors. We do not subscribe to a “live and let live” worldview. Chesed teaches us that we must help others whenever we can. The notion of Arvut is that each Jew is responsible for his/ her fellow Jews. If someone is ignorant we are called upon to teach them. If someone is acting incorrectly we are supposed to help them correct their ways. It seems that Rashi understood that Bilam’s blessing here could not be only an endorsement of privacy, since Judaism also values community and mutual aid. Perhaps that is why Rashi offers a second interpretation of the word “tents”: “How goodly are the tent of Shiloh and the eternal Temple.” According to Rashi’s second interpretation, Bilam is praising the Mishkan/ Bet Hamikdash, i.e. the national spiritual center and symbol of the unity of the Jewish People.

From a Jewish perspective, privacy and community are complementary values. Perhaps the real blessing that Bilam alludes to is striking that balance that allows us to benefit from both privacy and community. I am thinking about this balance between privacy and community as I encourage you to attend the RENEWAL event on Wednesday at 7:30 p.m. in the Social Hall. Our longtime esteemed community member Gary Bloom is in need of a kidney transplant. Publicizing one’s medical condition can be difficult for someone, as it encroaches upon one’s privacy. This can be especially difficult for those of us who view ourselves in general as helping others and rarely on the receiving end of assistance. Even as privacy is a value, the essence of Am Yisrael is helping our fellow Jew whenever we can and in whatever way we can. Please attend the RENEWAL event on Wednesday at 7:30 p.m. to demonstrate our concern for Gary and our commitment to community.