Goodness First

Sukkot is a holiday with a strong emphasis on Chinuch, properly educating the next generation of Jews. The Talmud tells a story that Shammai cut a hole above the bassinet of his infant grandson and placed kosher schach on the hole, so that the baby would be able to fulfill the mitzvah of dwelling in a Sukkah. Perhaps it’s due to the message of Sukkot: God’s ongoing protection- that we especially want to include children in the mitzvah of sukkah.

                Halacha also pays special attention to the need, and mechanics, of educating children in the mitzvah of the 4 Minim. In Sukkah 46b, Reb Zeira insists that parents not give a child their lulav and etrog on the first day sukkot. For a child can acquire a gift, but cannot legally give a gift. On the first day of Sukkot there is a special obligation for the lulav and Etrog to be Lachem, yours. If parents give their child their set, the child will acquire it but then be unable to gift it back to the parents. There is an entire category of 4 Minim called “chinuch sets”. (Rav Moshe Feinstein is adamant that such sets be at least nominally Kosher, for we should only be educating our children with items that are kosher to be used.) Perhaps this special emphasis on chinuch by the 4 minim is due to the fact that we wave them in all four directions, indicating that Hashem is everywhere- a crucial lesson for our children.

                Children learn what is important to their parents based on the praise that they receive. Rabbi Joseph Telushkin notes that today’s children most often receive the highest praise in one of four categories:

Academic/ intellectual achievement, Athletic abilities, Artistic attainment, or Physical appearance.

Everyone loves a compliment. But what about kids that don’t excel in any of the above? Usually the best compliment they will hear about themselves is that “S/he is a really GOOD kid.” This causes children to infer that being good is not a big deal. Rabbi Telushkin suggests that parents ask their children: What do you think I as your parent want you to be? Successful, good, smart or happy? (Many children do not pick Good)

                It’s fine to compliment for other traits as well. But Good needs to be at the top of the list.

Germany perpetrated the Holocaust not due to a lack of smart people, but a lack of good people.

Examples of being good are things that everyone can do: 1) speaking out against a bully 2) befriending a new kid at school 3) finding a lost wallet or phone and working hard to locate the owner 4) offering one’s seat to an older person 5) treating siblings decently 6) not cheating on a test.

Save our highest praise for individual, one-to-one acts of goodness and integrity- and children will derive their self-esteem more from their goodness than from anything else.

On Sukkot we celebrate being successful, being smart and being happy. Being Successful: Sukkot celebrates the harvest, when the farmer feels a sense of security and satisfaction due to his full silos and the success of his efforts. Being smart: for an integral aspect of Sukkot is knowledge. The Torah says that we dwell in sukkot for 7 days

“In order that your [ensuing] generations should know that I had the children of Israel live in booths.”

 

Being happy: for sukkot is called Zman Simchateinu, the time of our rejoicing.

On Sukkot we celebrate being successful, being knowledgeable and being happy. But we can never lose sight of the importance of being GOOD. Goodness must be celebrated above all of the rest.

Yom Kippur is Just the Beginning

Most machzorim translate Yom Kippur as the Day of Atonement. Rav Soloveitchik objected to the imprecision of this translation for a few reasons. First, in the Amidah that we will recite at Maariv we say: Vatiten Lanu Hashem Elokeinu B’Ahavah…..

“You, Hashem have given to us with love this day of Yom HaKippurim for forgiveness and pardon and atonement….”

If Kippurim was synonymous with atonement, then it would not make sense to define a word, kippurim, with the same word, kaparah.

Second, the Torah names holidays from the perspective of what we do on them, not what Hashem does or did. For example, Pesach is called Chag Hamatzot, not Chag Yetziat Mitzrayim, and the Torah refers to it as Shavuot, not Chag Matan Torah. Rosh Hashanah is referred to as Yom Hazikaron, a reference to the shofar, which is what we do on that day, and not Yom Hadin, which is what Hashem does on that day.

            To be consistent with the other holidays, the name Yom Hakippurim must reflect the idea that atonement does not come automatically from Hashem. Rather atonement must be attained through our efforts. Therefore Rav Soloveitchik suggested that the more literal and precise translation of Yom Hakippurim is the day on which we must perform specific actions in order to attain atonement. When translated more precisely it becomes clear that Yom Kippur is not about God bestowing upon us some status of atonement; rather today is about earning that selicha and kaparah- through our actions and our commitments. Our task on Yom Kippur is focused on Teshuva. The reason why the holiday’s name is in the plural, Kippurim, is because there are many different types of teshuva: complete teshuva and incomplete teshuva, thoughts of teshuva and acts of teshuva.

And Yom Kippur is not just the culmination of the Aseret Ymei Teshuva. It is also a beginning, a fresh start, the first day of the rest of our lives.

Rabbi Yosef Yitzchak Schneerson asked his father, the Rebbe Rashab, what to do after Yom Kippur. His father answered, “Now, we repent.” This reminds me of the story a person who attended a silent Quaker service. During the worship, he turned to an usher and asked, “When does the service begin?” The usher looked at him and said, “Sir, we believe that the real service begins when you leave the sanctuary and begin to live your real life again.”

Nechama Leibowitz once noted, “When I was a child, they used to tell us in school that we needed to improve our actions during the auspicious time of Aseret Yemei Teshuva, between Rosh Hashana and Yom Kippur. At home, my father would tell me that is true, however you also have to act just as good between Yom Kippur and Rosh Hashanah.

If we put in the work, and view Yom Kippur as just the beginning then we can be confident that we have done our part to bring about Kaparah and be ready to receive many blessings in the new year.

Thank Hashem. Then Ask for More

If we take a moment to look at the additions to our Amidah during Aseret Ymei Teshuva we will notice a progression. First we ask Hashem “Zochreinu L’Chaim”, Remember us for life.” Next (“Mi Kamocha”) we refer to Hashem as He “who remembers His creatures for life, in His mercy.” At the end of the Amida our requests become bolder: “Inscribe for a good life all the children of Your covenant.” Finally we ask for a lot: “In the book of life, blessing, peace and abundant maintenance, may we be remembered and inscribed before You…” The lesson of this progression is simple and profound: We thank Hashem for life. Life alone is a priceless gift deserving of our thanks to God. But during this time of year, when “the King is in the field” we don’t stop with the basics. We take advantage of the moment and ask for much more.

 Rav Yitzchak Tuvyah Weiss, who passed away last summer, would often tell the story that in his youth he lived in the town of Pesing that was about four kilometers away from Pressburg. When the Germans entered his city, the community leaders didn’t know how to deal with the Nazis. He didn’t know whether the community should listen to the Nazi's demands, or whether they should escape and seek to evade them. The head of the Jewish community sent the young Tuvyah Weiss to Pressburg, to get advice from the communal leader of Pressburg. In Pressburg he was told that the situation was very bleak. The leader in Pressburg also told young Tuvyah Weiss that the King of England sent a train to save one thousand Jewish children, and he received a thousand tickets to distribute. “I don’t know who to save, and who has precedence over whom, but since you’ve come here, take a ticket, and save yourself.” Reb Tuvyah went home, quickly packed his bags, said goodbye to his parents, and went to the transport.

Before long, he was in England with a thousand other children. The king wanted to see with his own eyes the thousand children the he saved. The children stood on both sides of the road, and the king drove between them. Rav Weiss recalls that standing next to him was a courageous boy. When the king’s chariot came near this boy jumped into the king’s chariot. The king’s servants wanted to send the boy away, but the king said that he wants to hear what the child has to say. The child thanked the king for saving so many children, "but it upsets me that the king's compassion isn't perfect, because I left behind my parents and family. How can I be happy with my salvation when I’m worried about the plight of my parents and family…” The king asked him for the boy’s parents’ details. Two weeks later, his parents and all his extended family were in England. Rav Weiss made the following observation: If the king was in his castle, this child wouldn’t be able to speak to the king. But now that the king is traveling he was able to come close to the king and plead for the lives of his parents. This is exactly what takes place on Rosh Hashanah. During Aseret Ymei Teshuva we have access to a special power of tefillah. On that day in England 999 children remained in their places; they didn’t take advantage of the king’s appearance. Only one child didn’t let this opportunity slip away. See how much he gained seizing the moment. Let us do the same this Yomim Noraim season.

Beware of the “If Only” Syndrome

During his lifetime, disciples of Rav Nachman of Breslov would be sure to be with their Rebbe for Rosh Hashanah. The Rebbe himself said in 1810 in front of of 100’s of Chasidim that “Rosh Hashana is my whole mission.” And “therefore no one should be missing.”

18 days later Reb Nachman passed away. But his disciples understood Reb Nachman’s preaching the importance of being together on Rosh Hashanah as a sign that they should continue the practice even after their Rebbe’s death. And so began a custom for Bresolver Chassidim to travel to their Rebbe’s gravesite in Uman for Rosh Hashanah. Over the next 150 years this custom was upheld by only a small number of the most ardent and committed Chasidim. For most disciples Uman for Rosh Hashanah was only a dream due to the danger, antagonism and uncertainty that comprised most of the 19^th and 20^th centuries for Jews in the Ukraine.

With the fall of Communism, that all changed. In 1989 over 1000 Chasidim were in Uman for Rosh Hashanah. That number doubled by the next year.

Ten years later the number of pilgrims to Uman reached 10,000. Five years later that number had doubled again. By now the pilgrims included not only devoted Breslov Chasidim but also Jews of diverse affiliations and nationalities, especially Israelis. At its height, before the war with Russia and COVID, there were close to 50,000 men making the pilgrimage to Uman for Rosh Hashanah.

Though the Chasid in me is intrigued by the phenomenon of Uman for Rosh Hashana, I tend to agree with those Rabbis who are opposed to the Rosh Hashanah pilgrimage. First, men with families belong home with their families on Yom Tov. Another issue I have with the trip to Uman is based on an idea that emerges from this morning’s Torah reading.

Moshe transmits to Bnei Yisrael the accessibility of Jewish life and meaning:

“It is not in the heavens, that you should say, 'Who among us can go up to the heavens and get it for us and impart it to us, that we may observe it?' Neither is it beyond the sea, that you should say, 'Who among us can cross to the other side of the sea and get it for us and impart it to us, that we may observe it?'" (Devarim 30:11-13).

Targum Yerushalmi adds a bit of commentary into the translation:

“The Torah is not in the heavens that you should say, 'If only we would have someone like Moshe the prophet who would ascend to the heavens and bring it to us and teach the laws, we would observe them.'

Neither is the Torah across the sea that you should say, 'If only we would have someone like Yonah the prophet who would descend to the depths of the ocean and bring it to us and teach the laws, we would observe them.”

A major impediment to change and growth is what I call the “if only” syndrome.

A person identifies the need for change or avenues for growth. But just when the plan begins to coalesce we begin to tell ourselves, “If only.” If only times were different or the situation was more conducive, this change would occur. If only leaders the likes of Moshe or Yona were available to teach and inspire us- then we could grow and change and improve.” If only I spend Rosh Hashanah in Uman- then I would be able to achieve my spiritual goals.”

A pilgrimage to Rav Nachman’s grave site for the New Year may be the right choice for a select few. But for most of us, instead of Uman Rosh Hashanah we need to focus on Po- Hayom, as mentioned at the beginning of the Parsha. Here and now we are blessed and equipped with the teachings and capacity to make resolutions. We must reject the “if only” syndrome and appreciate the potential that exists within us- Po Hayom, here and now.

Your Attitude Can Be a Blessing (or the Opposite)

 One of the lessons from Ki Tavo is that the blessings and curses as described in our Torah portion are self-imposed. God doesn’t bring about curses- we bring them onto ourselves. We know this to be true concerning the spiritual laws governing our existence: Our good deeds create goodness in this world and the opposite is true as well. We may not see it right away or fully understand how it works but it is a principle of faith.

 

 Not only our actions matter, but our attitudes also create blessings and curses

“Because you did not serve the Lord, your God, with happiness and with gladness of heart, when [you had an] abundance of everything.”

The Torah here provides us with two attitudes that can lead to self-imposed curses. First, a lack of “gladness of heart when you had an abundance”. Curses come about when we focus on the negative in our lives, without putting it into the context of all the blessings that surround us.

 

Second, the pasuk warns us against living a life without simcha. The Rambam writes about joy in his section on the Laws of Sukkot (described as the most joyous of holidays). The Rambam writes that when a person feels happy or inspired or ready to take a step in his/her growth, they should go for it. Don’t miss the opportunity. The Rambam continues in the next Halacha to warn us against hesitating in “taking the plunge” due to concerns about what other people might think or say about us. Maimonides brings the example of King David. During the rededication of the Aron, David leads the procession with great fanfare and intense dancing. His wife Michal rebuked King David for acting in such an enthusiastic manner; she thought it was unbecoming of the king’s stature. Our rabbis weigh in and say that Michal was wrong and King David was right. Once we research an issue, think deeply and make an action plan we should not worry about what others might think or say. Not taking the plunge due to what others might think can lead us on the slippery slope towards missing out on blessings, and even towards curses.

 

This reminds me of a saying, of unknown origins:

In our 20’s we worry a lot about what everyone else is saying about us and thinking about us.

In our 40’s we do not care what others think about us or say about us.

In our 60’s we realize that no one was thinking about us or speaking about us in the first place.

 

The sooner we realize this, the sooner we can embrace the simcha in our lives and do our part to bring about the blessings that are ready to come our way.

As we prepare for the New Year, let us resolve to avoid the pitfalls that can cause curses and prepare ourselves to be the receptacle necessary to receive all of the blessings that God has in store for us.

Resolving the Paradox of Power

 Why is it that many people in positions of power end up being accused of mistakes that cause them to lose those positions? Psychologists suggest an answer lies in what they call the paradox of power. The very traits that help leaders attain positions of power in the first place all but disappear once they rise to power. The good news is that Machiavelli was wrong. Nice guys (and gals) do not finish last. Studies have consistently shown that people give authority to those whom they genuinely like.  And the reverse has been shown as well: People that are not well-liked are usually never given a chance to become powerful.

The bad news shows up when these nice people actually attain power. Instead of being polite, honest and outgoing, they become impulsive reckless and rude. “It’s an incredibly consistent effect,” explained Dacher Keltner, a psychologist at UC Berkeley, “When you give people power, they basically start acting like fools.” Keltner compares the feeling of power to brain damage, noting that people with lots of authority tend to behave like neurological patients with a diminished capacity for empathy and decision making.

 Parshat Ki Teitzei addresses this paradox of power. Our Parsha contains many mitzvot that deal with situations in which there is an imbalance of power: debtor and lender, employee and employer, widows and orphans and those in a more secure socioeconomic status. How do we ensure that powerful people treat more vulnerable in the proper way, as the Torah requires?  Three ways:

One way is through transparency. The worst abuses of power can be prevented if people knew that they’re being monitored. When describing the laws associated with each of these imbalances of power, the Torah interjects Hashem into what seemingly is purely an issue between human beings. For instance when it comes to the obligation to treat the debtor with dignity, the Torah adds, “Ulecha Tihyeh Tzedaka Lifnei Hashem Elokecha”- “it will be an act of righteousness- before Hashem your God.” The Torah similarly includes mention of Hashem when it comes to the timely payment of employees and the treatment of widows and orphans (in the seventh aliyah). The Torah is reminding powerful people that God is always watching, and this realization should provide the transparency necessary to combat the paradox of power.

 A second way is to foster a sense of sympathy and identification with the other party. The Torah calls the debtor “Reyacha”, your fellow, your friend. Even if the two do not normally hang out in the same social circles, the lender must realize that lack of capital does not lower the debtor’s standing in the eyes of God, nor should it do so in the eyes of the lender.

The third strategy for avoiding the pitfalls of power is by addressing any delusions of grandeur. The Torah reminds us, “Vezacharta ki eved hayita B’Mitzrayim.” “Remember that you were a slave in Egypt.” This is not only a reminder of our shared humble beginnings, but also a reminder of our shared history and shared identity. The debtor and lender, the employer and employee, the widow and orphan we are all equal in our collective experience of the Exodus from Egypt, the moment that transformed us not only into a Nation but into a caring community.

We are in the midst of Elul, crunch time for High Holidays preparation. The same tactics utilized to avoid the paradox of power are those strategies that can empower us for the High Holidays: appreciate the transparency in our lives, reject any delusions of grandeur, and foster a heightened sense of sympathy. In this way Parshat Ki Teitzei can help us realize that power need not be a paradox. By following the Torah’s advice, it is not only plausible but probable that power can be harnessed as a force for good, benefitting ourselves and the world around us.

The King’s Two Torahs

 The 613^th and last mitzvah in the Torah is the commandment for each individual to write a Torah scroll. In Parshat Shoftim the Torah teaches that there is one person who is required to write a second Torah for himself. While we might have thought that a second Torah is appropriate for the Kohen Gadol as a spiritual leader or the Chief Justice of the Sanhedrin due to his legal expertise and leadership, we learn that it is the political leader, the king, who is required to write a second Torah.

Rav Kook explained who a Jewish king needs a second Torah. At Har Sinai the Jewish People accepted the Torah on two levels: personal and national. The Torah comes to refine and elevate a person and a nation. However, whereas most people are in general agreement as to what it means for an individual to be moral and ethical, it is much more difficult to find consensus on what does it mean for a nation to be moral and ethical. The king, as representative of the nation, writes a second Torah to demonstrate his (and our) commitment to utilize Torah values to guide us on a national level. In the Diaspora this means that Jewish communities must seek ways to live our Jewish values in how we operate.

In Israel this challenge is greater, for the Jewish State is supposed to be governed by Jewish values. The Jewish People went almost 2,000 years without the opportunity to apply Jewish values to the bureaucracy and institutions of the state, such as the legislature and judiciary. Without a lived tradition of how to do this, the State of Israel has been a blessed and miraculous experiment in how to apply Jewish values to nation building while navigating all of the challenges such as: partisanship and differences of opinion, protecting minority rights, national defense, building and economy, the list goes on and on. One example of this challenge is the debate in Israel today regarding judicial reform. While it is easy in a hyper-partisan climate to simplify a debate and caricaturize the opposing views, the reality is more complex and more nuanced.

Rav Kook cautioned regarding the moral and spiritual dangers inherent in political life:

“We must not allow the tendency toward factionalism, which threatens most strongly at the inception of a political movement, to deter us from seeking justice and truth, from loving all of humanity, both the collective and the individual, from love for the Jewish people, and from the holy obligations that are unique to Israel. We are commanded not only to be holy individuals, but also, and especially, to be ‘a kingdom of priests and a holy nation.”