Word

 The Word

Words spoken at the wrong moment can have dramatic and long-lasting consequences.  The same is true for words that have not been thought-out, a spontaneous blurt.  Reflect for moment on the residual insults, slights, and wounds you bear.  More often than not, we are not victims of physical assaults but have all been verbally abused.

Long after the words were spoken, long after the person who said them forgot what he said, we still remember.  Those words keep us up at night.  They come to us in dark moments and cause us to cringe…often decades later.

The internet has hastened the verbal decline in the psychic abyss.  Words sent with abandon are read and re-read, each time extracting new unintended meanings.  Deler licebit quod non edideris; nescit vox missa revert.  “You can change what you did not write - but words written you can never retract,” wrote the Roman poet Horace.  I know people who hold onto excoriating notes written to them years later and grow angrier every time they read them.

Perhaps that is why Rashi identifies the aspect of man that was “made in the image of God” as the gift of speech.  When we speak we build or destroy; we heal or hurt.  Just as God cast the world into being with words so too we become creators with what we say.  Words are never meaningless or empty; they are filled and volatile vessels.

It is interesting that the Hebrew for “words” is the same as for “things” (devarim).  I suspect that the ancient ones knew that words are things.  Once spoken they become alive.  They embed themselves quickly into the minds of the listener and become part of their being.  Kabbalah goes so far as to tell us that letters and words the building blocks of the physical universe.  The letters themselves are like the foundation which undergirds everything.  Without their power the universe would collapse on itself.

In tefilah, prayer, one word can have a tremendous impact.  One single word uttered with focus and intention can elevate a moment or even a lifetime.  In life, a word of praise spoken at the right time can redeem a lifetime of regret and despair.  A wrong word can destroy a person and even ruin their family.

The power invested in humanity by God through the gift of speech is overwhelming.  We are charged to use it well – for the sake of building life and not tearing it down.   Be compassionate in word.

Paradise Found

 “We were expelled from Paradise but Paradise was not destroyed.  In a sense, our expulsion from Paradise was a stroke of luck for had we not been expelled Paradise would have had to be destroyed.”  Franz Kafka

 

The familiar story of Eden has many facets.  One of the most compelling aspects to the story is man’s expulsion from it.  From that moment humanity lies fully exposed to aging, disease, and hatred.  The evil unleashed when the Gates of Paradise were closed and locked after the departing Adam Eve has stayed with us.

Who has not yearned for a release from the darkness of this world?  Who has not wept at taking of the forbidden fruit?  All suffering comes from that choice.

Paradise was created before the world came into being pesachim 54a  after the world was cast into being, God then placed Paradise on earth.  But perfection was not meant for this world.  It could not stand in a place where humanity desired more than they needed.  It could not remain where “wants’ were a more powerful urge than sacrifice.  

There was only one choice before God: destroy Paradise or wipe out humanity who not coexist with perfection.  The Holy One accepted neither choice:  He moved Paradise to another place.

Said Rabbi Isaac, “This world is only the vestibule to another world; you must prepare yourself in the vestibule so that you may enter the banquet hall.”
~ Avot, 4, 21.

 

Prayer

 Now that the holy Days are over, some reflections on prayer.

Prayer takes many forms.  

There are those who ask for something, e.g., healing, prosperity, joy…  Some praise (G-d is beneficent, forgiving, loving…)  Others are gratitude (for breath, companionship, eyesight, clothes…). 

For many, prayer is disjoint and cumbersome.  It is difficult to gather thoughts in an organized fashion (I think this is what some people mean when they say they do not like “organized religion.”  They wait for inspiration when it comes, not getting it from formal prayer).  

Some experience moments of impoverishment and appeal to Something that will alleviate the anguish.  Or a moment might jar us to an inner sense of wondrous thankfulness.  Each is a time of deep reflection and prayer, but they tend to be sporadic.

What did you pray for on the Yamim Noraim, Days of Awe?  

I want to make two suggestions for those who are searching for a connection to prayer.  

Ø One is silence.

There is much noise in our surroundings and in our heads.  We are constantly barraged by our cell phones (I call my phone a dog leash.  When it rings it demands a response, no matter where I am or what I am doing), messages that chime at all times of the day and night, music and news that relentlessly blares, traffic, sounds of construction, and the noise of the mind of things left undone that does not let up.  

When was the last time you sat quietly with all devices turned off and away from all distractions?  Prayer comes in those silences.

Elie Wiesel tells Rebbe Mendel the Taciturn who sat, with eyes closed, face turned toward Jerusalem in a fiery sanctuary as he listened to the song of silence – “a celestial and yet tangible silence in which both voices and moments attain mortality.” 

Ø The other suggestion is practiced gratitude. 

It was one of the first lessons that our parents taught us: Say “please” and “thank you.”  We do not like people who do not express appreciation.  We call them in-grates.  Those who tell us how appreciative they are for the hello, the birthday message or present fills us with joy.

Reb Zusya was the ultimate teacher of knowing how to be grateful.

Whatever he had, Zusya gave away. There were always poor whose needs far outstripped his personal needs. There were times when Zusya did not even have enough to eat. That is why he said, "for those who say I have nothing, they are correct." Yet, at the same time Zusya also acknowledged that if someone were to ask what he needed, Zusya would tell him or her he had everything he required.

Zusya taught his acolytes through his actions.  He was deeply grateful for whatever he had and was happy to share whatever little he possessed with others who had less.

 

We are the richest civilization that ever lived.  We have so much that what we discard would be a cornucopia of delights to previous generations.  Yet, our faith reminds us that such things like food, clothes, air, or a roof over our heads, cannot be taken for granted.  In fact, the first prayers we utter each morning in our ritual services thanks the Almighty for each one of these and more.  Often the best segue into a modality of prayer is expressing thanks like saying thanks for food or expressing gratitude for being alive each morning.

 

Always Choose and Choose Well

 Many lenses filter what we see.

At times, the world appears bright, full of love and endless promises of goodness yet-to-come.  We anticipate the arrival of ample joy throughout the coming hours.  

At other times, the world is cold, dark and lifeless.  Any possibility of goodness is swallowed up by the consuming bleakness that hovers all about us.  

At yet other times, we are splayed open.  Ready to accept whatever comes our way, we greet the world in a forthright, almost childish way.

Countless other feelings color the way we receive the day.  These are psychic lenses that we place over our eyes.  They interpret what we say.  They become our reality.

The Talmud records the difference between the brothers of Genesis, Cain and Abel.  The former slew his sibling in a fit of jealous rage.  Here is the Talmud’s observation:

For Cain there was no justice in the world.  Good was not rewarded.  Evil went unpunished.  His world was empty, dark and forbidding.  Cain reasoned that goodness was not a virtue but a weakness.

For Abel, the vast universe was created with Divine love and mercy.  Able looked at the world and saw endless life and excitement in each petal, every blade of grass.  Forgiveness was part of the unwritten rule governing the universe.

We make our own reality.  We are the interpreters of what we see and then how we interact with the world.  Choose the path of goodness, of Godliness.  Choose the path of peace and aiding those who are crying.  It does not only change them…it also informs how we see our world, feel about ourselves, and please our Maker.

Look

 If you do not acknowledge someone, are they there? Can you remember the feeling of being ignored? Can you recollect the sensation of almost being violated when they looked right through you? Beyond you? When you tentatively raised your opinion in the conversation no one noticed. How did that feel?

Walking past a homeless person with an outstretched arm on the street poses the same conundrum. Do they exist? Do they matter? Do they feel violated? Or are they so used to being invisible that they no longer feel the pang of not being there?
Isn’t this the underlying basis of the philosophical question, "if a tree falls in the forest and no one hears it, did it really fall?’ Perhaps the question ought to be re-phrased as, "if a tree falls in the forest and no hears it, does the life of the tree matter?" Is the fact that it has fallen of any consequence? Of course it matters to the creatures of the forest. Some animals will lose their home while others will find one in the shelter of the bark. Some will die and some will live. New growth will replace the old. Perhaps the tree destroyed a berry bush beneath it. It will no feed the weary traveler in the future. Aren’t these good reasons to believe that a single fallen tree can make a big difference? Yet, if humans are the sole determinant of reality then a tree falling out of human view makes no difference. 
The Torah states, "You are My witnesses." Midrash interprets the statement by God as meaning, "If you are My witnesses then I am God. And if you are not My witnesses, I am not God." 
The midrash is trying to tell us is that while we do not determine the reality of whether a tree has actually fallen or not, we do determine our personal reality.
We can choose to live with or without God. Our mind will decide whether to view other people as God’s other children or mere objects to toy with. We can view nature as an annoyance or the first part of God’s creation. We determine our own joy or despair. 
God continually whispers to us to choose Him. Listen.
 
 
 
Rabbi Shmuel bar Nachmani quoted Rabbi Shimon:
Moses was directed by the Holy One, blessed be He, to build the Tabernacle, the Ark and the sacred vessels. Moses turned to Betzalel and told him to build the Ark, the sacred vessels and the Tabernacle.
Question: Why did Betzalel deliberately switch around the order of construction? 
Betzalel remarked: A man builds a house and only afterward places the vessels inside.
Interpretation: Betzalel changed Moses’ order because it was out of sequence.
Question: Who would have the temerity to contradict the master? What kind of a man was Betzalel that he would deliberately change what Moses had said?
Answer: A hero.
A hero is someone both listens and responds. They are alive and fully engaged.
When you speak with God today, speak from your heart. When conversing with peers use the lens of the Almighty to listen. Be attentive. Be awake.

First Message

 

 What I Want

 

I want a community of peers, not just congregants.  There is a great difference between the two.  In the first instance we stand shoulder-to-shoulder bearing Beth Shalom.  In the second instance, there is an imbalance when one person sings boisterously in a largely silent community or a cantor cants alone.  I want you to know that one of the primary reasons I wanted to join you is because I perceived this to be community of involved, interested people.  I liked what I saw heard when we first met.  

I do not like “singing” alone.  My first comment to the leadership of this community many months ago was that I liked to strongly encouarge congregational participation.  For me, the ‘kiss of death’ of my professional life is when a congregational service is a performance.  It must never become that.

I read with interest a recent article in Conservative Judaism, which told of a worshipper who was chastised for “singing to loudly,” (check it out on the Spring issue 2008).  Reading the story made me cringe.  How awful!

In an opera house it is impolite (to say the least) to cough, chat or make any kind of disturbance.  In some houses of worship, it is much the same. Members are supposed to sit with their hands clasped front of them, resting in their lap, silent and attentive.  That is not the Jewish ideal; it is not even Jewish.

The Jewish way is leading with the voice.  It is singing, full-throated and filled with zeal.  The aim of prayer is to touch the Almighty.  One does this by entering into a dialogue; singing praises, crying tears of hope and despair, reaching out of oneself to find a connection with the Holy One.  Go to any uplifting service and ask yourself why it was so meaningful.  The only consistent answer is participation.  Where the members sing out loud and put their soul into their prayers it becomes a spiritual and meaningful event.  I am no different from you: I seek the same experience.

I sometimes wonder if I became a rabbi not because of what I saw as a youngster but despite it.  Services were dull.  The only good part was sitting next to dad and playing with his tzitzit…and later on with mine.  I wondered then if there was a way to change that.

Nowadays when somebody sings too loudly I bless them.  When someone shouts out an “Amen!” I am buoyed.  When members yell, “yasher koach!” after someone receives an aliyah, I grin.  That is the way it is supposed to be. 

God doesn’t like quiet.  Does that sound absurd?  The Talmud actually says that in different words.  The Talmud instructs us that when we pray, “Our ears must hear what our mouth is saying.”  In other words, there is no ‘silent prayer.’  Ever. 

We pray with our mouths and bodies (traditionally, called ‘shuckling’).  We talk to God in much the same way that we speak with one another.  We express ourselves in voice that sometimes rises and falls, with our hands as we gesticulate and with expressiveness that marks our sincerity. 

It is time to leave behind the traditional Protestant modality that we have absorbed a bit too well.  Jews don’t sit still.  We never did.

I hope you find your voice at your shul.

 

 

Mephiboshet

 Text: 2 Samuel 4:4 and 9: 6-13

      "Fear not for I will show you kindness."  
      These words were spoken by King David to Mephiboshet in the king’s chamber.  Mephiboshet was Jonathan's son, Saul's grandson.  Saul, the previous King of Israel, felt threatened by David's existence.  David was popular, fearless and visionary.  Saul, on the other hand, was jealous, myopic and terrified of his countless enemies- real or imagined. Saul was so xenophobic that he actually had assassins try to murder young David. 
     In time, Saul was killed in battle along with his son Jonathan.  When news of the king’s death became known, Saul's family became terrified that they were persona non grata to the new king, David.  They believed their lives were in danger.  They fled as soon as they heard news of Saul’s death, bringing only what their arms could carry at a moment’s notice.  

     The nurse of five-year-old Mephiboshet swept the boy up and ran.  In their anxiety to quickly leave, Mephiboshet fell and broke bones in both his legs.  The legs would never properly heal and Mephiboshet would remain helpless cripple for the rest of his life.
     Years later, King David found out that one of his best friend's  (Jonathan) sons was alive.  He ordered Mephiboshet brought before him.  The young man quivered and shook at the feet of the great king of Israel.  Mephiboshet believed he would be sentenced to death.  The eyes of the monarch grew moist at the sight of this frightened, disabled figure lying before him.
      How often fear motivates our life!  Undoubtedly, Mephiboshet spent years dreading the moment when he would have to face King David.  He probably imagined the terrible things that would happen to him when the king finally caught up with him.  The moment came and nothing happened as he imagined.  The king was benevolent and loving instead of being full of vim and resentment.
     Have you ever been wrong in judging someone?  It happens often. We misjudge a person or an event.  Fear takes over where faith ought to have kept us sure.  Hopelessness is not reality: it is an emotion.  It is the way we feel.  There is no situation which is utterly hopeless, even death.  For every situation we face hopelessness has no basis in realty. 
     Face your fears. You will find they are often "paper tigers" with no substance behind them.  Above all, remember David's words which echo the Divine message from Above, "Fear not for I will show you kindness." 

God

 In uncertain times when the rebbe called the community together it meant some impending terrible event was coming.  Who knows what it might mean?  A pogrom with its rushing hordes of Cossacks moving with such ferocity that the ground itself shook in fear as the malevolent ones drew near?

Perhaps it was an edict that would send woman and children, grandparents and strangers scurrying to gather their belongings before the village was cleansed of its Jewish population?

It may be a new tax placed upon the community to pay for the local lord’s gambling debt.  Who could guess the reason for the gathering?

People shuttered their shops, yeshiva students left their books and homes were abandoned as they ran to the shul to hear the announcement.  Silently they filled the pews of the ancient synagogue to hear the news.  

The rebbe mounted the bima at the front of the sanctuary, the place where the holy Torah were taken from the ark.  His face radiant, Levi Yitschak shouted, “I have news, urgent news for you -  there is a God in the world!”

 

What else is there?  If there is God, what else truly matters?

The Eyes that Witness

 Many lenses filter what we see.

At times, the world appears bright, full of love and endless promises of goodness yet-to-come.  We anticipate the arrival of ample joy throughout the coming hours.  

At other times, the world is cold, dark and lifeless.  Any possibility of goodness is swallowed up by the consuming bleakness that hovers all about us.  

At yet other times, we are splayed open.  Ready to accept whatever comes our way, we greet the world in a forthright, almost childish way.

Countless other feelings color the way we receive the day.  These are psychic lenses that we place over our eyes.  They interpret what we say.  They become our reality.

The Talmud records the difference between the brothers of Genesis, Cain and Abel.  The former slew his sibling in a fit of jealous rage.  Here is the Talmud’s observation:

For Cain there was no justice in the world.  Good was not rewarded.  Evil went unpunished.  His world was empty, dark and forbidding.  Cain reasoned that goodness was not a virtue but a weakness.

For Abel, the vast universe was created with Divine love and mercy.  Able looked at the world and saw endless life and excitement in each petal, every blade of grass.  Forgiveness was part of the unwritten rule governing the universe.

We make our own reality.  We are the interpreters of what we see and then how we interact with the world.  Choose the path of goodness, of Godliness.  Choose the path of peace and aiding those who are crying.  It does not only change them…it also informs how we see our world, feel about ourselves, and please our Maker.

Feed Your Soul

The key to living is to feed and nourish the body. The key to growth is to feed and nourish the soul.

The growth that is required by the soul is not about finding voices that agree with what we already know, our preconceived opinions. Instead, it is about being open to new possibilities, including the fact that we may be wrong.

George Washington wrote, "it is impossible to rightly govern the world without God and the Bible." Why would the first president of this nation make that claim? Perhaps he meant to suggest that we need to always be vigilant to the possibility that we may be in error. A true guide is one that challenges our beliefs. That guide has the potential to move us out of complacency and into real growth. That is why scholar and philosopher Rabbi Abraham Joshua Heschel said that ‘the Bible is meant to be our critic, not we its critic.’ With an open heart and mind we are supposed to open up the holy Torah daily and find signs that are meant to challenge, uplift and afford us the possibility of understanding ourselves and the world better.

"Do not make up your own interpretation and laws of Judaism or else you open the door to great sin and ultimate destruction into the cosmos." Introduction to the zohar
Open your heart and mind.

Thank You

Ben Zoma was in a vast crowd on the steps of the Temple Mount. He said: "Blessed is the One who discerns secrets, and blessed is the Holy One who has created all these people to serve me." For, he also used to say, "What labors did Adam have to carry out before he obtained bread to eat? He ploughed. He sowed. He reaped. He tied the sheaves. He threshed the grain and winnowed the chaff. He selected the ears, then ground them, sifted the flour, kneaded the dough, and baked it. After all that, he was able to eat.  I, on the other hand, get up and find that all these things have been done for me. And, how much effort did Adam have to carry out before he had clothing to wear?! He had to shear the sheep, wash the shearing, comb, spin, and weave it. Only then did he have a piece of cloth ready to wear. I get up and find these things done for me. Many craftsmen come early to the door of my house. I rise in the morning and find all these before me." – Talmud Berachot 58a. 

 
Look around and see the Garden of Plenty spilling out its wares before you.  Never in the history of mankind has there been so much, so available, to every person.  Entertainment lies in a small box.  Portable telephones are at hand.  Cars race us across the city in record-breaking speed.  We can course the nation or the continent in a span of a few hours.   Hundreds of television stations air programs all day and night!  Kiwis!  Who ever heard of them twenty years ago?  What about grapefruit in the late winter and spring?  That was unheard one generation ago.
 
Thank you.  What else is there to say?

 
Ben Zoma used to say, "What does a good guest say? "How much trouble my host has taken for me! How much meat he has set before me! How much wine he has set before me! How many cakes he has set before me! And all the trouble has taken was only for my sake!" -- Talmud Berachot 58a. 
One who crosses the ocean and is rescued from a shipwreck gives thanks to God. Should we not thank God if we cross without a mishap? One who is cured of a dangerous illness offers praise to God. Should we not praise God when God grants health and preserves us from illness? –The Radziminer Rebbe 

Time

 Norman Vincent Peale remarked that when he was young the ticking of his grandfather’s clock was ponderous.  “It seemed to say, “There—is--plenty – of –time.   There—is--plenty – of –time.  There—is--plenty – of –time.   There—is--plenty – of –time.”  But modern clocks, having a shorter pendulum with a swifter stroke, seem to say, “Time to get busy!   Time to get busy!    Time to get busy!    Time to get busy! ” 

We have as much time as our ancestors had.  In fact, we have more because we live longer!  Then why does it seem that we have less time?  

We run from appointment to appointment.  Our calendars are so jam packed that we actually schedule “free time”  (if we can squeeze it in between frenetically sprinting from one meeting to the next).

All of those gadgets that are supposed to make our lives more condensed, safer, and swifter contribute to the problem.  A text “dings” in the middle of a meeting. The phone “jingles” in conversation with a friend.  We are on the phone wile driving to work.  Our kids play while we receive yet another “tweet.”  The car sounds when we forget to put on our indicator when we notice the lady driving towards us is “texting.”

Remember when Moshe rabbenu was on the mountain as heard the Voice telling him to take off his shoes while standing on holy ground?  Would Moshe even hear God speaking today with all the noise?

The prophet Habakkuk seemed to anticipate this when he said, “Let the earth be silent.”  In order to hear the supernal one speaking we need to quiet the noise in our head.  That means slowing time.

In the Talmud, a sage observed, “not all people, and not all places, and not all moments are the same.”  Every meeting, each touch, and all moments are unique events.  They happen once and can never be relived or re-done. Once gone, it is gone.

Rabbi Al Lewis used to tell that story of a young man applying for a new job.  “How long did you work for your last employer?” he was asked.

“Thirty-five years.”

Puzzled, the interviewer asked, “How old are you?”

“I am thirty,” he replied.

“Then how can you say you put in thirty five years in your former position?”

“I put in a lot of overtime.”

 

Is this you?  

Time is relentless but it is not infinite.  

King Solomon gave the best advice for a healthy life many thousands of years ago.  Enjoy life with your wife [read: family], whom you love, all the days of this meaningless life [read: the efforts we expend for empty endeavors] that God has given you under the sun--all your meaningless days. For this is your lot in life and in your toilsome labor under the sun.

Solomon was not being negative: he was witnessing the human proclivity to place value of things of little consequence. 

We all know what is right and good and lends meaning to life.  In fact our tradition demands it.  Here are five:

1.                    Shabbat is meant to be spent with the people you love.  It is sacred, holy time.

2.                    Candles are beautiful.

3.                    Food is to be consumed but blessed.

4.                    Holy days and Shabbat, when spent with family and singing at shul, adds immeasurably to the value of our meager time.

5.                    We work to live not vice versa.

The New Year

 Let me be part of the narrative in the story they will write some day." - Eliza Schuyler Hamilton.

"I am the one thing in life I can control. I am inimitable. I am an original." - Aaron Burr.

 

With the New Year about to begin we think about where we have been and where we want to be in the next year.  Awaiting us are new opportunities.  In preparing to greet 2017 it is wise to pause and reflect of a developing a vision of who we wish to become. There will be disappointments and failures but we greet this dawn together.  You are not alone.   All the glory that we experience come s in the company of friends, family, community and country.

 

Bob Dylan read a powerful and moving speech at the Noble Prize awards.  Yet, there was one line, which caught my attention. “As a performer I've played for 50,000 people and I've played for 50 people and I can tell you that it is harder to play for 50 people. 50,000 people have a “singular persona,” not so with 50. Each person has an individual, separate identity, a world unto themselves. They can perceive things more clearly. “

 

Maya Angelo wrote, ”We are all at once both a composition and a composer. We have the ability not only to compose the future of our own lives, but to help compose the future of everyone around us and the communities in which we live.” 

 

Now is the time to reflect on where we want to go, individually and collectively, in the coming year.  Let us pause, conjure up that vision and then make it a reality.  If you can dream it, it can be.

 

Tzedaka

 Hypothetically.  Just say you have one or two million dollars to give away.  It was a good year and now it is time to give back; time to do some “tikkun,” improvement.  The first decision you need to make is how to best use such a goodly amount. After all, being a good entrepreneur with solid business skills, you know that giving money must also be solidly researched and well-thought.  So you begin to think of all the worthwhile charities you can donate the money to with an awareness that the money must make a real and significant difference for your people.  You want to give it to Jews.  

The next decision is how best to allocate the money; there are many worthwhile causes.  Among them are programs and activities for the infirmed.  The money could go a long way toward giving meaning to the elderly.  Israel is a possibility too.  With years at war and ongoing economic as well as frontal assaults, such an infusion of cash would give much needed money along with an unspoken statement of support.  Youth programs are certainly worthwhile.  Recreational and sports activities for children.  So many things to choose!

You could even decide to divide the money up among the many willing and noble causes.  Why not give a little to each?  The only problem with that is that he greatest effect of the donation will not be met.  A single lasting contribution by you cannot be achieved when the money is thinned out among different agencies.  What do you do?

The one area so often overlooked when philanthropists seek ways to contribute to the welfare of the Jewish people is through the synagogue.  Odd, isn’t it?  In the past twenty years memorials and museums have been constructed to the memory of the Six Million in metropolises throughout the world.  Relying on deep pockets these buildings rise on significant gifts and bequests.  Massive JCCs have been built in virtually every city through the nation costing many millions of dollars.   At the same time, most religious institutions continue to exist on a shoe-string budget.  They barely balance their meager balance sheets.  And yet synagogues are the most meaningful contributors to Jewish survival!  

The fact that there are philanthropists at all that still remember they are Jewish is because of the shuls they were brought up in.  They never forgot the lessons of cheder (religious school).  Their teachers were insistent that tzedaka is humanity’s redemption.   Ingrained in their memory are sitting at shul and crying to God.  They will never forget the serious learning the long impassioned discussions about tzedaka and justice.  Wrapped in a tallit, benching licht (candle lighting), full emotional outpouring of the soul are all memories which inform the present.

It is usual too see sprawling hospitals in large metropolitan areas named for Jewish contributors.  The same is true of our universities.  A few years back a very rich and giving philanthropist died.  He donated millions to museums, institutions of learning.  One of his many legacies is the Annenberg Foundation which gives away grants and affords opportunities for many people throughout our country.    Training programs, educational media, communications and so much more were left by Walter Annenberg.  The name will be familiar if you watch PBS.  Little was given to Jewish causes.  Nothing at all that I am aware of was given to synagogues.  Why?

The same question can be leveled at many Jewish do-gooders.  Why do they ignore the fountain which feeds all the tributaries  If it were to dry up, rest assured the balance of the Jewish landscape would wither in its wake.  The Day Schools are in a similar quandary.  While they nurture the youngest shoots of the flower they receive scant attention from big donors.  Millions are given to create a chair at a university which does nothing to foster Jewish identity while rabbis and principals go about with their hands out.

Another oddity: all the afore mentioned buildings and programs will eventually fall away.  As proven through the epochs the only remaining feature of Jewish life are shuls and their educational appendages.  Need proof?  Think of the last time you traveled.  What noteworthy Jewish sites remain for more than a century?  Almost without exception they are synagogues.  What happened to the rest of their communal activities and structures?  We do not know.  They did not survive.

So why do the moneyed forget the place where the future is to be written?  I do not know.  But if anyone has an answer I would love to hear it.  

The Date Tree

 Shortly after the Six Day War, a man named Avshalom Feinberg was buried in Israel. During the tempestuous years of World War I, he was one of a small group of Palestinian Nili spies who, at great risk to their lives, were providing vital information to the Allies. In the dead of night, they would courageously swim to the British ships in Haifa harbor with information procured the same day about enemy troop movements. It happened in the course of their activities, that a few members of this Nili group were entrusted with a dangerous mission in Egypt and set out on foot through the Sinai desert. All but Avshalom were captured, tortured and hung. Avshalom never surfaced. No one knew what happened to him. He never returned to his family in Palestine. No one ever heard from him again.

            At the outbreak of the Six Day War, fifty years later, during the mad dash of Israeli tanks through the parched sands of the Sinai desert to the Milta Pass, an Israeli tank commander noticed a strange sight. In the middle of the desert, there was an oasis of date palms. So unusual was this sight that after the war was over, the commander returned to the incongruous palms, and began to explore the area. He noticed something under the palms and began to dig. From beneath this oasis of trees he disinterred the remains of Avshalom Feinberg. 

            Apparently, during his mission, Avshalom succumbed to his burning thirst and the desert’s devastating heat. His comrades buried him there, in the barren wilderness, beneath the sand. But there were dates in his pockets and they miraculously sprouted into palms. The commander notified the Israeli authorities and Avshalom Feinberg’s remains were reinterred next to the grave of Theodor Herzl in the Jerusalem military cemetery. Never in his wildest imagination did Avshalom Feinberg dream that, 50 years later, tanks of the independent State of Israel, in full pursuit of the Egyptian enemy, would he come to rest next to the founder of the state of Israel.

The Clothes Make the Man

  There are many words in the Torah that are focused on the vestments, dress of Kohen Gadol, the Great Priest.  Whole chapters are devoted to the minute details of how he was to present himself before the people at all times. 

     Why is this so important?   Ramban, the mystic and scholar, noted that kings also wore clothing that was not dissimilar to the Kohen Gadol. The Ramban then remarks that dress gives definition to our stature in the eyes of other people.  In the instance of the Torah, B’nai Yisrael became aware of the grandeur of its leader Aaron, through his specified and ornate clothing, as they gazed at him.

 

     Another commentator, Benno Jakob, believes that clothing connotes something far more powerful than dignity. Remember that the Holy One, blessed be He, personally made clothes for primordial man in the Garden of Eden?  This act separated the man and woman from the beasts of the world.  While the animals wore only their natural fur, shell or skin humanity was now cloaked in vestments that were foreign to their bodies. The clothes Adam and Havvah wore differentiated them from beasts.  Of all the things that God could have given humanity – food, shelter, gifts of all sorts - He chose to only make for them clothes. 

 

     What Benno Jakob is telling us is that not only do clothes change the way we are seen they also have an impact on how we view ourselves.  They separate us from animals, lower life.  Yet, it is not only clothes alone that separate us from the beasts of the earth because we could wear ornaments that would only magnify the worst aspects of animal instinct.  Clothes can also have the ability to separate us from our worst, most base animal instincts.  For this reason, Judaism places great emphasis on dress, how we present ourselves

 

      Modesty of dress is one avenue of connection to the world and to the Divine.  Modesty means that we respect borders and privacy.  The way that we dress, for one example, is about limiting others from accessing our privacy.  It is the outward symbol of our desire to connect with other people positively and then as a result connect with the Divine One.  That is why the prophet Micah urges us “to walk with modesty before God.” 6:8

 

     How we present ourselves in the holy Sanctuary of Or Atid is one aspect of our physical carriage (provocative clothing is a no-no) but every time we venture out into the world we make a statement about our morals, values and what we wish to communicate to pothers about who we are.

 

     Moshe personally clothed his sibling, Aaron.  It was his task to appoint and dress the first Kohen.   When people saw Aaron wearing his Kohen garb they would accept him for his powerful office and high status. At the same time, Aaron would also feel special because the clothing would remind him that he was different. 

 
          Clothes are distinctive reminders of our being.  A tale of Nachum of Chernobyl tells of when he once lost sensation in his legs on a Shabbat. He looked down and discovered he was still wearing his weekday trousers. The soul of the tzaddik was sensitive to Shabbat and the great division between the mundane and the kodesh.  His subconscious was mindful of the holiness that his Shabbat clothes provided.

We Chose Pain

If there is a single moral to the tale of Creation it is that Adam HaRishon (primordial man) elected to take the path of pain instead of spending his days on utter comfort.  The Garden was perfect.  There were no needs or wants.  They did not have to work and the possibility of failure did not exist.  There could be no failure.  Likewise there was nothing to succeed at.  All Adam HaRishon had to do was breathe.  

In the taking the forbidden fruit shame launched itself in the consciousness of the two beings.  First naked and unashamed (2:25) Adam and Havvah felt their vulnerability grow into an unrelenting self-conscious throb.  Now, instead of roaming about the Garden Adam and Havvah now crouched in the bushes.  Just moments before the universe stretched before them.  Now, the world had closed in on them.  The skies felt like they were crushing down upon them.  
Self-loathing and fear gripped Adam and Havvah.  Dark suspicions colored the previously pristine Garden.  They accused one another, contemptuously.  He said, “The woman that You gave me—she gave the fruit…” The woman said, “The serpent…”  Perfection was blemished.  Shunned from Eden, Adam and Havvah now had to deal with unimagined pains that would assault their physical being and relentlessly pursue their consciousness.  They crouched lower into the foliage, terrified of the inner darkness.  
Why did they choose the path of pain?
On Hanukka we celebrate in many ways.  Among the more opaque observances is the tradition of spinning the dreidle. B'nei Yissachar said that the difference between Hanukka and Purim is best demonstrated by the dreidle and the gragger.  The dreidle is spun by taking hold of the top and twisting one’s wrist.  The gragger is sounded by taking hold of the bottom and yanking it around.  One is gripped from below; the other above.  That reminds us of the difference between the two holidays.  While Purim celebrates Esther’s ability to find her self and God and save the Jews (below); Hanukka recalls God’s intervention in coming to the aid of the Hasmonean warriors (above) with the miracle of the oil.  
Redemption has different origins in the two holidays.   There are times when we depend upon God and other times when we must depend upon ourselves.  Yet, the connection between Purim and Hanukka is that redemption only comes about through struggle, pain.  Both tales are pock-marked with rivalry, desperation and fear.
It would be nice if life was different…and it was for a brief flicker of time in our past.  We return to our first question: why did they do it?  Why did the sole inhabitants of Eden forfeit perfection?   Why could they not turn their backs from the Tree of Knowledge and forever walk in the Divine Radiance?
The searing question of pain is compounded in this week’s parasha as Jacob’s family descends into the grasp of Egypt.  At first it is a most that benefits everybody.  Prosperity swiftly turns to anguish as Jacob’s children becomes slaves to their present-day neighbors.  Why such pain?  Why must generation after generation endure agony?
In connection with the Torah reading, the Midrash offers:  A farmer needed to yoke his cow.  The cow had no desire to have the wooden plank placed and tightened around her shoulders so she balked. Turning her neck this way and that the farmer could not put the yoke on the animal.  So what did he do? 
The farmer went to the shed and led her calf out in front of the mother.  Pathetically bleating the calf caused the cow to lurch protectively forward. Because of her child the cow allowed herself to become yolked.
It was foreseen that Jacob would have to migrate to Egypt (15:13) long ago.  It was part of the pact that God made with Father Abraham.  There were countless ways to facilitate Abraham’s descendent leaving Canaan for Egypt but God decided to bring the calf first to induce the mother.  The Holy One declared: "He is My firstborn.  Shall I then bring him down to Egypt in disgrace?    I will draw his son before him, and so he will follow despite himself.”  Jacob was forced to go down to Egypt.
So God wants us to suffer?  He ordained the slavery?

Rabbi Shimon bar Yochai said: The Holy One, Blessed is He, gave three good gifts to the Jewish people, and all are acquired through suffering: Torah, the Land of Israel, and the World to Come. (Brachot 5a)

Chassidic teaching explains that two counter-objectives had to be achieved. On the one hand, Jacob had to be compelled to relocate to Egypt -- a voluntary migration would not have been an exile! Galut, by definition, is a place where one does not want to be -- a place that is contrary to one's intrinsic self and will. On the other hand, the fact that Jacob arrived in Egypt in honor, glory and in a position of power as the father of that country's ruler, rather than as a prisoner in chains, meant that he and his descendents would never truly be subject to their host country. Thus the key to Israel's eventual liberation from Egypt was already "programmed" into the circumstances for their galut (exile).

Rabbi Shimon bar Yochai [the author of the "Zohar"] taught: "Come and see how beloved is Israel to the Holy One, the Source of all blessing. Wherever Israel went into exile, the Shechina went along into exile. They went to exile to Egypt, the Shechina went with them as it is written, Did I not appear to your ancestor's family when they were in Egypt [enslaved] to the house of Pharaoh (Samuel 1:2-27. They went to Babylon in exile and the Shechina went with them, as it is written, because of you I was sent to Babylon (Isaiah 43:14). And when they will eventually be redeemed, the Shechina will be redeemed along with them, as it is written, Then the Lord your God will bring back your captivity and have mercy upon you (Deut. 30:3). The verb used in the verse is not veheshiv, the proper grammatical way to express bringing back someone else in Hebrew, but veshov which expresses the idea of returning oneself; to teach you that God Himself returns along with Israel from its exiles. (Talmud, Megilah, 29a)

 

What Death Takes

 Why do we comfort mourners?  In fact, why is comforting mourners such a great mitzvah?  Is it not obvious?

Part of life is cut away when a life is complete.  No more kisses or caresses.  No more conspiratorial meetings or happenstance encounters at the refrigerator.  No more birthdays.  Nor more blessings.    How could the yanking of a life string be anything but painful?

Sarah died.  According to the Midrash Abraham saw the distraught looks on their faces.  He looked at their pain and saw how abandoned people felt.  He watched heir tears and squirmed as they ground their hands helplessly into one another. Isaac dissolved into tears cry out, my mother, my mother! Why have you left me?”  The servants gathered about and ripped their clothes as they fell to the ground weeping.  

So Abraham went to console them.  Abraham?  The bereft was comforting everyone else?  

When we finish reading, studying a holy text, we say Tam v’nishlam…” All is whole and complete now.  The book is not complete until it has been read and finished. Only then is it tam, whole.  We then return the volume to its place on the shelf.  It is finished.  So it is with Sarah, our Mother.  Having lived a full and rich life she returns to the resting place of Adam and Eve, Machpeleah.

Abraham knows that this separation is temporal.  He is old and will soon regain the companionship of his life.