Freedom

 We have grown up in freedom.  We can say what we want to say, act within the boundaries of propriety (sometimes going a bit too far) because we are free.  It is very difficult to imagine what it would be like to live without that gift.  It is hard to imagine what it must be like to live in a totalitarian regime where every move is monitored and for the slightest infraction you can be thrown into prison.  There are dozens of modern-day examples.

Anywhere between 20 and 30 million people are slaves TODAY.  26% of that number involves children.   This number does not take into account more than 200,000,000 children working full time, for pennies.  It is entirely possible that children in Indonesia made the shoes you are wearing.  Children as young as five, are sent down into dank mines because they are able to squeeze into small places.  Some girls are sold or kidnapped as wives.  Remember the 200 captured in Nigeria?

It is stated by our sages, of blessed memory, that the idea of exploitation begins with a disparity in how people are viewed:

“That the master should not eat white bread and the slave eat course bread; that the master should not drink old wine and the slave drink new wine; that the master should not sleep on a feather mattress and the slave on straw….”  -Talmud, Kiddushin 20

Wherever there is inequality – when some deserve better than others - there follows forms of slavery. 

This is the essence of Pesach.  We remember what it means to have been a slave.  We are reminded that God hates slavery.  It is the Holy One who redeems the Children of Israel, our ancestors, from the torment of bondage.  It is He who wreaked havoc on a civilization because the Egyptians behaved uncivilly.

When we feel the power of freedom on Pesach and weep for the cruelly tormented in our time we have performed half the task that Passover demands.  The other half in found in the passage we sing on Yom Kippur from Isaiah:

 

Is such the fast I desire,
A day for men to starve their bodies???….
⁶ No, this is the fast I desire:
To unlock the fetters of wickedness,
And untie the cords of the yoke
To let the oppressed go free;
To break off every yoke.
⁷ It is to share your bread with the hungry,
And to take the wretched poor into your home;
When you see the naked, to clothe him,
And not to ignore your own kin.

⁸ Then shall your light burst through like the dawn
And your healing spring up quickly;
….⁹ Then, when you call, the Lord will answer;
When you cry, He will say: Here I am.  –JPS trans.

 

What is the prophet telling us?  The question most often asked is “Where is God when good people suffer?”  Remarkably, Isaiah teaches that the Holy Presence is among us when we continue the mission that He began.  God says “heneni” when bring freedom to the oppressed.

 

 

 

Happy/Unhappy

 Reb Shmelke and his brother approached the famed Maggid of Mezritch with a question. “The Talmud teaches, “A person must bless G-d for all the evil as well as the good that happens.”

“Please explain what this means,” they petitioned.

The Maggid simply replied, “Go ask Reb Zushya.  He will answer your question.”

Zushya was known as a wise, just man but one who lived in abject poverty and suffered from physical disabilities.

The two men went to the House of Study and found Reb Zushya sitting alone.  Wearing rags, Shmelke asked him to explain why we are taught to thank G-d for the bad and good.

Zushya looked at them perplexed.  “I am surprised that the rabbi sent you to me. I have never experienced anything bad in my lifetime.”

The two understood why they were sent to Zushya.

 

There are ample reasons to curse life’s many obstacles.  We have many responsibilities.  People who deceive and lie, manipulate and steal. We suffer insults and treacheries. People who are close to us and supposed to “have our backs” are nowhere to be seen when we need them most.  With age, comes numerous physical and cognitive challenges.  Death.

 

There are ample reasons to be full of gratitude.  We have a roof over us and protective walls that shield us.  Lots of food.  More clothes hang in our closets than any of our ancestors could accumulate over a lifetime. Phones. Cars. Bank accounts.  Central heat and air.  A country that protects us.  Doctors that attend to our ailments.  Entertainment.  Meaningful relationships.  Travel.  Longer life projections than ever.

 

When Jacob re-met his twin brother, Esau proclaimed that he was a very wealthy man.  Jacob responded that he had “everything” (Beresheit 33).  Is this true?  Did Jacob really possess everything?  Of course not.  But in Jacob’s eyes, he wanted for nothing, so he was in fact immeasurably rich.    

 

In the Mishna ,the rabbis define wealth by declaring that one who is satisfied with what they have is wealthy.  

 

No amount of money or possessions will make us happy.  One yardstick of wealth was recently described by seven fundamental measurements.  They are friends, security, health, peace with nature and the world, pastimes, respect for others and a general positive outlook.  Not a word about money, house, car, spouse….

 

In a far earlier version of the “glass being half full or empty,” rabbis long ago stated, “Do not look at the container but what is within.”  (Avot 4) Joy comes from deep inside, not from any material gains.  One wise man in our congregation once said to me, “You can be unhappy anywhere.”  Joy is a choice.

 

Philosopher Horace Kallen wrote, “There are persons who shape their lives by the fear of death, and persons who shape their lives by the joy and satisfaction of life. The former live dying: the latter die living.

These are challenging times.  Do the best you can to help those in need, particularly those suffering in Israel after the devastation by Hamas.  And do good. Wherever and whenever you can.  Then look at yourself and rejoice in the manifold wondrous things that you are and that are yours.

 

Harold Kushner paraphrased the book of Ecclesiastes when he posed, “I’m unhappy because I feel something is missing in my life.”  What if nothing is missing?  And everything is exactly as it is supposed to be?

Hanukkah

 One of the oddest questions posed by the Talmud asks, “What is Hanukkah?”  

Why does it ask such a question?  Is it not self-evident what Hanukkah means?  Doesn’t every six-year old know the reason for Hanukkah?

The Talmud provides an answer to its own question by describing the miracle of oil.  While kosher oil, unearthed by the Maccabees, was enough to last one day it burned for eight days.  Some say it burned brighter with each passing hour, yet another miracle.

Yet the initial question remains, why does the Talmud not assume we know why Hanukkah is observed?

Here are four possibilities:

1.      One of the underlying messages of Hanukah is that righteousness can triumph over numerics.  Despite the overwhelming odds against them posed by the militant Greek power, the Maccabees through sheer determination won a long and hard battle.  This message certainly resonates with modern Israel, the beleaguered Jewish state founded in ashes, forged in fire, and continually assaulted on all sides for all the years of its brief life.

2.     Hanukkah is meant as a symbol of hope, when, in the darkest hours of the long winter nights, we kindle flames a s a bulwark against the encroaching darkness around, we learn a powerful message about keeping hope alive even when everything else in life would seem to indicate the despair.

3.     Hanukkah is a metaphor for the internal and ongoing struggle each human engages in day-to-day.  It is the battle for goodness that is continually waged against the internal dark forces (yotzrot) urging us to embrace our worst impulses.  Hanukkah comes with the message that we can triumph over our most implacable foe, the internal enemy.

4.     Perhaps Hanukkah is nothing more than a childhood dream of safety; good warm tasty food, laughter and love?  If that is its message it too is worthy.

 

Maybe the Talmud poses the question about Hanukkah’s meaning because it has so many overlays, so many variant meanings.  Why then did they opt for the simple miracle of oil outlasting its normal life?  To show that God is the apex of all life.  It is too easy to dismiss God from Hanukkah, or Purim, or any other human event.  In fact if you read the tale of Hanukkah it is not unusual to miss the God part altogether.  The war was won though perseverance and strategy by the wily Maccabees.  Just like the rest of our lives.  Who wrested the big sale from the client?  Me or God?  Who won the court case?  Who raised our children?  Who is the breadwinner?  

It is simple to exclude God from the realities of daily living.  Maybe this is the real genius of the rabbis: it is not so much about writing our story but recognizing the glorious nature of even the tiniest event.

 

Words: “And Thy word broke their sword when our own strength failed us…”

Destination

 FOCUSING ON THE DESTINATION

 

 

 

Rabbi Mendel Futerfas spent many years in a Siberian gulag tells how he learned a great lesson from a tightrope walker who was also imprisoned there.

 

The rabbi asked the tightrope walker what is the secret to his art. "What does one need to master? Balance? Stamina? Concentration?"

 

The tightrope walker's answered surprised him: "The secret is always keeping your destination in focus. You have to keep your eyes on at the other end of the rope, and that's how you get there is a straight line, without wavering. But do you know what the hardest part is?"

 

"When you get to the middle?" the rabbi ventured.

 

"No," said the tightrope walker. "It's when you make the turn. Because for a fraction of a second, you lose sight of your destination. When you don't have sight of your destination that is when you are most likely to fall."

 

Life is something like a tightrope. To navigate it successfully you must have your destination in focus. You must know where you are going. When the time comes to make a turn, and for a moment you cannot see where you are headed, you have to have your destination in your mind's eye.

 

The ultimate destination—the final goal of all human efforts throughout history—is called geulah ("redemption"), when the world will realize its purpose and reach ultimate refinement. The Jewish people have always kept their eyes on this destination; it gave them the power and freedom to forge ahead, despite all difficulties.

 

Geulah is not a destination you can see by looking in front of you, you can only see it by looking inside you.

 

Real focus is not physical, it is transcendental. Real focus is your relationship with your Divine mission.  If it is well developed, it can guide you past the moments of danger, and keep you moving with confidence even in moments of greatest fear and darkness.

Conscience

 Wouldn't it be wonderful to not have a nagging conscience?  If only all those incessant voice that disturb our sleep and taunt us in our waking hours would disappear!  The unearthly racket that goes on in the mind can be deafening!

Medicines can help.  There is pharmacological cornucopia of drugs that can take the edge off life.  With a bevy of people practically waiting in line to fill out a prescription for what ails us, we do not need to suffer needlessly.  Perhaps you have seen the pictures on tv.  First there is a black and white shot of a depressed adult moping over life.  In the next picture appears a content well-adjusted smiling person in color that has been healed.

Our faith knows and understands that life is difficult.  Rabbi Yose ben Hanina was bemoaning the afflictions of the world when he remembered the verse from isaiah that said, "Then would Your peace be as a river, and Your righteousness as the waves of the sea..."  48:18 berachot 6a

Since we have a conscience; since we remember the bad things we have said and we sometimes coddle the nasty things others have done to us; since day-mares turn into nightmares and seem to have no end; and since we all suffer from the same malaise, it is good to give our best effort to triumphing over despair.
 

The Hafetz Hayim woke up one chilly morning to say Shacharit, the morning prayers.  The yetserhara routed him and said, "Why are you up so early?  You are already an old man.  Go back to bed; it's cold outside.
The Hafetz Hayim replied, "You are a lot older than me and you are up already."

What we Carry

 A diamond dealer patiently waited for the arrival of his shipment.  It was late.  The merchant stared out his front window waiting for the diamonds to arrive.  “He should have been here long ago!  Something must have happened, ” he thought.  

Then he saw the man trudging up the street wearily carrying a heavy suitcase.  His shoulders drooped and the messenger looked near exhaustion, almost lifeless.

The merchant ran out to meet him.  “What has happened?  I know something terrible has happened!”

Distraught, the merchant envisioned that that is man sat by the road, drifted off to sleep while a thief made off with the precious stones.  It could not be otherwise because when a person carried something of great value they do not feel the weight but when the carry something valueless it feels like a ton.

Isn’t life like that?  When we carry something we love it is weightless: when it is a burden it is an unbearable weight.  Regrets are like leaden weights.  So are sins.

My sins are over my head.  They are a burden that is too heavy for me. Psalm 38:5

When regrets get in the way of living it is time to jettison them.  It is time to ask God for forgiveness and relieve us of abiding pain that hobbles our growth.

“I am bent and bowed greatly.” Psalm 38:7

Forgive me Lord.  Love me.  Grant me the freedom that comes from your wiping the slate clean.  And Lord, let me, my harshest critic, forgive me. 

Three

 Rav Ilai said, “A person’s real self can be observed in three ways, his kos (cup), kis (pocket/money) and ka’as (anger).”   Talmud, Eruvin 65b

With this concise statement there is a wealth of wisdom that can help us determine the character of the people we are with.

Kos

In its context the “cup” refers to drinking alcohol.  How does a person behave after they have drunk?  As the rabbis say, “when alcohol comes in, secrets come out.”  What happens to a person when they drink?  Do they act bizarrely?  Are they confrontational?  Bitter?  These may be behaviors that are sublimated but ever lurk under the surface.  At the same time, how a person treats alcohol is likely to recur.

In our tradition the purpose of wine is holy.  It is present to help us celebrate sublime moments of God-infused love.  Think of Kiddush on holy days and Shabbat.  Abuse is not appropriate under any circumstances.

Kis

The second item in the list is “kis.”  “Money [may] be the root of all evil” and it may also be redemptive.  Just like “cup” money can be used for great good or serve bad purpose.  For Jews, we are reminded to use the gift of money to redeem our own people.  It is not without good precedent that whenever Jews were in trouble, Entebbe, trapped in Ethiopia, afflicted in Iraq, Yemen or elsewhere Israel has swiftly come to rescue them.  

Yet, that is not sufficient because that is their contribution not yours.  What we do with our wallet is what counts.  As the Torah teaches, ten percent of our gross income must be given towards works that improves life.   How we react toward a homeless person with their hand outstretch is consequential.  If we are blessed with money in our “kis” we are obliged to use it to do good things with it.

Ka’as

Finally, “ka’as” is how we react when things do not go as we planned them.  It is about when people let us down or are insulting.  The anger we display is also about our core identity.  Said  Rabbi Rafi Lipner, “Everyone gets mad but what we do when we are furious allows others to see us at our worst.”  When we become unplugged, unglued, undone, or whatever you want to call it, we unveil the worst part of our character.  Read again: We unveil the worst part of our character when we seethe.  In other words, the anger is not an aberration; it was there all along lurking in the background of our self.

 

Life is challenging.  Our inner personality cannot be cloaked or hidden indefinitely.  Sooner or later it will be revealed through one or all of these vehicles, kos, kis, or ka’as.  Rabbi ilai’s advice has two powerful applications. The first is judging one’s friends and partners.  How do they behave when one of these three items is concerned?  The second involves judging our character through the refraction of one of these lenses.

First Thing

 There are many draws on life.  For the seeker of God, learning how to pray is vital.  It can occupy much time.  The one who wishes to guard their tongue from gossip must expend great effort.  It is not easy to change the way we talk.  To keep to the speed limit may require significant energy if you are not used to it.  The same can be said for any spiritual change.  

Despite all the draws, here is what the Talmud has to say:   “The first question a person will be asked when they appear before the Heavenly Court will be, “Have you been honest in business”?”            ~  Shabbat 19a

The most elemental part of being human begins with integrity.  God is most concerned with how we behave in the marketplace.  Why?  Because it has a ripple effect that radiates out in a wide arc of unanticipated ways.  Here are a few:

·         The person affected will suffer.

·         One person whose pocketbook is affected will likely try to recoup their loss from someone else.  That means a chain of people will be hurt.

·         The lesson we teach by our actions will be absorbed by others.  They will imitate us.  More pain.

·         God is particularly concerned when we can “get away with it.”  After all, the sins which pass unnoticed are the most insidious.

 

There are many places to commence the great journey of life.  The first step is how we treat one another with commerce.

 

Mercy

 We need mercy.  We want mercy.  In moments of anguish, or deeply introspective times, we beg for it.  

Mercy is important because we feel weighed down by inadequacies, short-comings, and sins.  Mercy has the quality of being not just forgiven by the other but, at least as important, by the self.  

Two are really one.  As we are so flawed and needy, we crave validation from another.  That is where mercy comes in: when someone forgives us we are healed.  When we are granted mercy we become whole.  Two becomes one when our fellow forgives us and the fractured part of our self becomes one, no longer broken.  That is why we need mercy.

If when we require mercy and are granted it, shouldn’t we do the same for others?

Rabbi Levi Yitzhak of Berditchev stood before the holy ark on the sacred day of Yom Kippur.

“You forbid us to write on the Holy Days – except to save a life.  Therefore, O Lord, even You may not write on this day – except to write our names in the Book of Life.”  Bernard Greenfield

Pray for someone else.  Pray for someone who needs it just as much as you do.  And then give them the healing that they require just as we long for the same. 

Rabbi Levi Yitzhak of Berditchev was asked, “Rebbe, we have so many different mesechtot, tractates, in the Talmud that deal with so many different topics.  Why are there no tractates in the Talmud about service to God, or love of humanity, or fear of God?”

Said Rabbi Levi Yitzhak, “My dear student, there are no mesechtot on these sacred ideas because God sends great and holy men in each generation who teach and instruct us on these paths.”

 

Protection

 I cannot speak or write about the things I experience with community or congregational members because it crosses the borders of confidentiality.  Every now and then there is an exception:

It was a small dark colored car.  Four door.  Kind of old and battered.

It is hard to see inside the windows of a car, even from a short distance.  I knew that someone must be sitting in the car because of its position outside the main sanctuary.  I waved, not knowing whether the people inside saw or acknowledged me.

Opening the door to the sanctuary I motioned to the blank window and yelled,”Do you want to come in?”  The door cracked open and three people climbed out, two from the front and one from the back.

They introduced themselves to me as newcomers to town from Texas.  Then the man pointed to the younger man and told me that this was his son who is in training at Ft Jackson.

The three of them davenned with the congregation in the chapel that Friday evening.  The father knew his prayers well and sang them loudly, so loudly that he forced me to change one of my tunes so that I would be in sync with him.

Services ended with Yigdal and after a few hand shakes and embraces I made my way over to the trio and asked how long the young man was going to be here in Columbia at the Ft Jackson.  “He’s leaving tomorrow,” said the father.  

“To Afghanistan,” added his wife.

I nodded.  

“Come with me,” I pulled the three of them over to the Aron HaKodesh, the Holy Ark, after the last member had exited.  “Stand here.”  

I opened the Ark, held the young soldier’s hand and prayed: “Avinu Shebashamayim, Lord of Heaven, I am here with Your child who is off to a distant land tomorrow.  Look after him. Guard his steps.  Be with his officers to protect them and protect one another.

“Let him serve his duty with dignity and grace and bring him back home to his family whole.”

Tears trickled down this soldier’s cheeks. Everyone is human.

The father placed his hands on his son’s head and bensched him with the Priestly Blessing.

Rosh Hashanna and Yom Kippur

 Introduction

Rosh Hashanna comes once per year and lasts two days.  It is part of the yamim noraim, the Days of Awe and is part of the framework of the Asseret Yemei haTeshuvah, the Ten Days of Repentance.  Both of these names include Yom Kippur as it too is part of the Days of Awe and there are ten days from Rosh Hashanna until the Day of Kippur. This time is for serious reflection, self examination, and reconciliation.   It is a time for us to consider our  sins and look for forgiveness from people we have hurt and from God. 
Rosh Hashanna also is a great celebration of time.  We celebrate a New Year, the gift of another year for humanity, and looking to the future with a hopeful heart.  It is the festival of Creation when we fete the world for all its God-given majesty.
The Meaning
Like the secular calendar the lunar calendar, the Jewish one, has twelve months.  Coming in the month called Tisray, Rosh Hashanna inavriable starts at the beginning of autumn.  While the solar date will change from year to year the lunar date never varies.  On the eve of Rosh Hashanna there will be a new moon.  In the holiday itself we say, HaYom Harat Olam which means today is the birth day of the world.  Today is the time we measure the world's birth.  It is the anniversary of the world.
Torah: In the seventh month, on the first day of the month, there shall be a rest day for you, a remembrance proclaimed with the blast of horns, a holy convocation. You shall not do any labor and you shall offer a fire-offering to the Eternal. (Leviticus 23:24-5) 
In the Torah Rosh Hashanna is called the seventh month because we measure our time by the anniversary of our freedom, Passover.  Think of it this way: January 1 is the new year while July 4 is the celebration of America's birth.
Another name for Rosh Hashanna is Yom Teruah, the Day of the Blast.  Rosh Hashanna is associated with the blowing of the shofar, ram's horn.  Throughout the history of the Jewish people the hsofar has been used to call the people to war, summon them for a urgent convocation and announce the new moon.  The sharp shofar blast calls us together and makes a grand  announcement on Rosh Hashanna: the king is here!
There are three primary kinds of sounds emitted by the shofar.  One sounds like an attentive call (Tekiah), another is akin to a broken heart (teruah) and the last are like tears (shevarim). In all there are one hundred blasts on Rosh Hashanna.  It is a great mitzvah to hear all of them.
Maimonides adds another dimension to the sound of the Teruah.  he says it is an opportunity to feel the sting of fleeting time.  He says, “Awake all you who are asleep; search your ways and mend them in repentance.” In other words, the shofar shakes us out of lethargy.
Yom HaDin is yet another name for the holy day.  Yom haDin means Day of Judgment.  We know from the announcement made by the shofar that the King has arrived.  The Day Of Judgment underscores the idea that we are in the presence of the Holy One, the Master that knows all.  It is useless to give excuses or hide.  All is revealed the the Lord.
As declared by the Unteneh Tokef the remedy to all personal inadequacies is Teshuvah, Tefillah, Tedakah (Repentance, Prayer and Charity).  These alone will redeem us from our flaws.
The powerful tale of the Akeidah is read on Rosh Hashanna.  It tells of the unflagging faith of Abraham, our father.  His willingness to go to any extreme for God is a paragon of devotion.  We consider ourselves- what we do for God in his light.  The story ends with Abrham sacrificing a ram to God.  The shoar that means so much to the holy day is a reminder of that act, Abraham's faith, and God's unbroken promise.
Observances
It is customary to greet one another with the words, L'Shana Tovah Tikateyvu, "May you be written for a good year."
Apples are dipped in honey as we say, "May it be His Will that this New Year will be as sweet as these apples and honey."  We eat round hallahs instead of the usual long ones.  These symbolize the fullness of another year.
On the first day of the holy day (unless it is Shabbat) we perform Tashlich.  We go to flowing waters and say a few short prayers.  It is primal, immediate as we shake out our pockets and declare: 
Who, O God, is like You? You forgive sins and overlook transgressions.
For the survivors of Your people;
He does not retain His anger forever, for He loves kindness;
He will return and show us mercy, and overcome our sins,
And You will cast into the depths of the sea all their sins;
You will show kindness to Jacob and mercy to Abraham,
As You did promise to our fathers of old.
Finally, we take to heart the idea of Teshuva and turn to people we have wronged and make up to them.  We ask for forgiveness.  Not only that but is also customary to go to the cemetery and do that same for those who have passed.

A Thought to Heal the World

 "All those who do not visit the sick are like those who are guilty of shedding blood"  ~ Nedarim 40a

This powerful admonition flies across the ages to reach out to unborn generations.  what does the Talmud mean when it emphatically ascribes such guilt to those who ignore the ailing?
Level One: We take away the terrible loneliness of those who suffer when we attend to their needs.  By bringing them flowers, washing their feet, massaging their shoulders, or just speaking with them we assure them that they matter.  We communicate in a powerful way that their life counts.  They are not alone.  They have not been abandoned.  We care enough to make time to come and visit.  That act alone signals tremendous internal healing because it states that they are important.  Staying away leaves them feeling cast away like refuse, bereft.
Level Two: Who is not ailing?  Who lives such a static existence that they are not reduced to wondering if they matter?  Does not every person have such doubts?  Don't we all suffer from insecurity?  Lack of personal self-worth?
In this sense we are all sick.  We all suffer from the same inadequacies and internal pain.  What we need, others need.  Where we are lacking, others are lacking.

Bikkur Holim

 It is a mitzvah to visit the sick.  What that means in legalistic terms is that we must do this command from Above: God ordained it.   The problem is frequency.  The Torah does not reveal its hand when it gives the mitzvah.  How often must we visit the sick?  Every day?  Every month?  One a year?  Do we go when called?  Or do we seek out the ill?

Also, who are the sick?  There are many varied kinds of illnesses.  Is mental illness included?  What about someone suffering from addiction…is this considered sick?  What about a woman in childbirth or a person going through a divorce – do these count as illness?  If so, we may want to include job loss and infirmity like old age and change of life.  There are days – you know the kind – when the car gets flat, the water heater breaks, we get a pink slip….

Who could forget the myriad issues that children bring?  Each day brings fresh problems to solve, some worse than others.   Parents provide their own obstacles to the ever-expanding heap of things that could be called sick.   

If all these life circumstances could be labeled as sick we are all frequent visitors to that realm.   We may be sick for months or several times a day.  

“It is taught: On visiting the sick there is no fixed amount.”   ~ Nedarim 29b

Perhaps the reason why the Sages do not set the amount of time we need to address the ill is because the need is ongoing and universal.  Make the call you have been putting off, send the letter that you have been thinking about, go spend time with someone who needs you.

On Prayer

 "God will support him on the bed of illness ..." Ps. 41:4

Rav Dimi taught, “All who visit the sick infuse them with life.  Ana all those who refrain from visiting the sick bring about death.”  Nedarim 40a

Does Rav Dimi’s teaching mean that prayers contain the power of healing to make people well?  When we offer our prayers on behalf of the ailing do they shoot straight up to God and cause the Hand of the Universe to move saving them from their affliction?  

Are prayers that powerful?  Do they also prop up the living to the extent that people die from lack of people praying for them?

Perhaps those who are so unfortunate to have no one pray for them are forgotten by God?  Or maybe if they are too ill to pray for themselves and no one will pray for them they will die a silent spiritual death?  The universe will not note their passing.

Rav Dimi may also mean that prayer galvanizes the dwindling spiritual energies of the sick.  With our added words and focused prayers they become stronger as their prayers ride on the backs of ours.  Could this be true?

It may be that our prayers reinforce their waning strength.  The real power of prayer would then be that it sends to the weak an invisible message of hope that enables them to surmount the obstacle of illness.  Prayer is almost a tactile weapon that directly impacts the person prayed for.

So which one is it?  One of the above?  All of them?  None?

 

I suggest it does not matter.  The only thing that counts is it changes both the one who prays and the one who is prayed for.  What else matters when prayers said for another are enough to change lives?

Stand for God

 An old proverb has it: position is everything in life. Muslim prostration reflects the belief of Islam that God is everything and humans are nothing. Christian kneeling reflects the belief of Christianity that humans need help in being reconciled with God, that God has to get down to our level in order to forgive human flaws. And Jewish standing during prayer reflects the assertion that even sinful, flawed humans possess a basic dignity that we don’t need to discard in order to become one with God. 

When the great early-20th century philosopher Hermann Cohen rediscovered his Jewish heritage, one of the things that most impressed him was this point: that Jews stand during Yom Kippur.  That God doesn’t want us to come to him without dignity, facing the earth.  Rather, God forgives us while we’re standing erect, with our faces looking ahead towards the future, and with our eyes directed towards heaven. 

 

I hope that during Neilah you will appreciate this truth. Confessing what we’ve done wrong and asking for forgiveness doesn’t mean throwing away our self-respect.  It means affirming our self-respect. That is why we stand, assuming the physical position that affirms our dignity as human beings. They used to tell how the old Modznitzer Rebbe would sing the confessional of the Al Het to a waltz tune. When people asked him why he used a happy melody rather than a sad one, he replied:  “If the king asked you to clean up his throne room, wouldn’t you be happy for the honor to do it?” 

 

What we can Achieve

 A rich and poor child attended school together. One day the wealthy one brought in a fine leather wallet. The other students gaped and were envious of the beautiful object. The other children began to their save money so they could buy one just like it. The poor one had no chance; it was hard enough to just get fresh pencils and a backpack. That child felt miserable…

The child went to the local storekeeper, put his meager change on the counter and said, “This is all the money I have. Can I please have that wallet?”

“So you do not have another penny?” asked the owner. “Tell me, if you have no more money, what good is the wallet to you? You have nothing to put in it.”
 
The storekeeper makes sense. As adults we would say the same. And yet, there would be a small inner voice that understands the cry of the child who yearns to be like everyone else, wants to have what they
have, and does not wish to stand out as different.  The child has grown up but still struggles over the same issues. We want and cannot always have what want.

 It has been said by many pundits and economists that the economic slump that we are in is largely due to living beyond our means. We wanted the lovely wallet, could not afford it, but got it anyway.  Everybody felt the same way, including the banks. We went out and bought what we should not have purchased.

 Looking around it is easy to fall prey to desiring what others have.  Just watching television is an exercise in restraint as commercial
after commercial tells us “If we order now….” We are barraged by billboards, ads on radio and on the Internet that imply satisfaction and contentedness if we -- along with the rest of the country -- buy what they are selling.
 

 Sociologist George Ritzer has called this phenomenon the “McDonaldization of America.” In this new world everyone gets the same car, same house, same TV, and the same everything. One city  looks like another and states lose their individuality until all America looks alike.
 
On an individual level, Talmud has a distinctly different idea. “Man strikes many coins from one die and they are all alike. The Holy One, blessed be He, however, strikes each person with the same die as Adam but not one is the same as the next.”* Not only does our faith tell us about the uniqueness of our formation but it declares we each play an indispensable role in the universe. In other words, we have special gifts that only we can give to the world. In the absence of that gift the world is incomplete.

 What this all means is that we are not supposed to look for ways to be like one another. Instead, we are called by God to seek out our own destiny. Certainly, others will play a role in that process but it is our journey towards becoming whole, not theirs.
 
 “According to the effort is the reward.”** Our task is to bring about the fullest self we can achieve. There is no one who can do this but  you: you are one of a kind since the inception of Creation.

 *Sanhedrin 38a
 **Avot 5:26