Everything in its Place

 “A person is obligated to say a blessing for the bad things just as he is responsible to say it for the good.”  Berachot 33b

Having a world view is important.   We know where we stand in a comprehensible universe.  Chaos becomes minimized and confusion reduced.  In such a mind-set everything has a place and makes sense.  There is a purpose to all things.  Nothing is extraneous.  Nothing is lost.

Of Talmudic fame, Rabbi Akiva is a prime example of someone who possessed a world view that enabled him to lead a rich life.  Akiva’s life was far from pristine.  He was an impoverished and illiterate shepherd. He had virtually no possessions, certainly nothing of real value.   Eventually, Akiva fell in love with a rich landowner’s daughter and subsequently spent many years separated from her because of his impoverishment of both money and learning.  His father-in-law had such a low opinion of him that he severed his relations with his daughter when she informed him of her love for the poor and ignorant farmer.  

Akiva’s guiding principle in life was, “Everything God does is for our good.”  Now, that does not mean that Akiva joyfully embraced the many painful and terrible things that happened to him but he understood that even bitter medicine was still medicine.  Every event in his life had kernels of growth hidden inside.  It was his task to find it and grow from it.

We hear people say, “It is God’s Will,” when bad things happen.  Such a way of thinking is akin to making the best of every situation and accepting that we can grow and learn from any experience.  Railing against reality does us no good while asking what we can learn from a situation affords great opportunity.

 

“Blessed is God day by day.  He bears our burdens.  The Lord is our salvation. Selah.” Psalm 68:17

 

The Deeds

 Mishna teaches, “All whose actions exceed his wisdom, his wisdom will endure.  All whose wisdom exceeds his deeds, his wisdom will not last.” (Avot 3:5)  

This Mishna could mean that without implementation we forget.  Has it ever happened that no sooner had you learned an interesting fact that you lost it?  If we do not put into practice what we have learned the knowledge leaves us.  Question for contemplation: If this is true how would we change what we read or watch?

The Mishna could also be a philosophical comment.  What is the purpose of listening to the news?  Or reading the latest journal?  Why bother taking advanced courses or going to school at all?

For our faith, the purpose of learning is to inform life, not simply gather information.  In other words, we learn to change.  There is little value to knowledge if it does not lead to growth.  In fact, one of those most powerful statements of this belief is found in the second paragraph of the Aleynu where it reads our objective is, “to perfect the world.”  Knowledge can be used to win an argument, build a more effective way of killing people, or fix that which is broken.  We choose.

I have performed far too many funerals for my liking.  I recall few instances where the bereaved family proudly told me how brilliant the deceased was.  I remember times when their wisdom was lauded in connection with great accomplishments and also remember other times when their knowledge was mentioned in a derogatory, snide way.

Each hour should contain moments when we actualize the meaning of the Aleynu.  At the end of the day we ought to be able to recall times when we lifted grayness from the world and allowed more light to filter in; when the world became less broken and more whole because of something we did or said.

That is why Judaism insists of the path of mitzvot, action.  We have 613 mitzvot, or behaviors, that govern our lives.  It is learning put into action.

Winston Churchill said in 1936 at the brink of the World War, “I am looking for peace.  I am looking for a way to stop war, but you will not stop war by pious statements and appeals.  You will only stop it by making practical arrangements.”

We are -- there for we do.

 

A wealthy man approached the Gates of Heaven.  He tried to enter but the Ministering Angel blocked his way.  Finally, he took out his checkbook and said, “Everyone has a price.  How much do you want?”

“You don’t understand.  We don not take checks up here.  Only receipts.”

Anyway

 Anyway

 

People are often unreasonable, illogical, and self-centered;

Forgive them anyway.

If you are kind, people may accuse you of selfish, ulterior motives;

Be kind anyway.

If you are successful, you will win some false friends and some true enemies;

Succeed anyway.

If you are honest and frank, people may cheat you;

Be honest and frank anyway.

What you spend years building, someone could destroy overnight;

Build anyway.

If you find serenity and happiness, they may be jealous;

Be happy anyway.

The good you do today, people will often forget tomorrow;

Do good anyway.

Give the world the best you have, and it may never be enough;

Give the world the best you've got anyway.

You see, in the final analysis, it is between you and God;

It was never between you and them anyway.

Anonymous

Patience

"God of patience, 
teach me 
patience. 
Help me learn 
to wait— 
for the good 
that is just around the corner; 
for the assistance 
that will soon be within my reach; 
for the relief 
that is just a moment away. "


 The Gentle Weapon

On Account

            At the Phoenix House in New York, the celebrated drug rehabilitation center in New York City, newcomers arrive and gather for their first session.  They sit around in their chosen seats and gab.  Then, someone will say something like, “It isn’t your mother or society or even the pushers who put the needle in your arm.  You did.”  Only then does the therapeutic process begin. US News and World Report

Most of what we have leaned is due to pain.  We suffer and grow.  Who among us cannot attribute innumerable physical and psychic scars to moments of shame, despair, and loss?  No one seeks pain but we all grow from it.

They say that nothing is assured except “death and taxes.”

Regarding the first, we are all survivors.  As we age the scythe of the Angel of Death comes closer and closer and we feel more vulnerable to its sharp edge.  Judaism has many prescriptions for addressing death.  You know what they are: immediate burial, shoveling earth into the grave, sitting shiva, observing the eleven months of mourning, yahrzeit…  I find most folks nowadays want to remove themselves from the process.  They want to get it over with quickly and “move on.”

Life waits for no one and we have to run if we expect to keep up.  It is shame.  

I wish society would turn back to when time was not a commodity but a luxuriant gift.  With a determination to sit, tells stories of the dead, say kaddish, and openly weep we give ourselves the gift of healing.  We take responsibility for the true loss we have experienced.  We own it, understand it, and learn from it.  And such time is a luxury.

What do we learn from such attention to the time of shiva and going to say kaddish on yahrzeits?  One lesson is that we are far less than we think we are.  In the end we are dispensable.  We may attempt to stave off the claws of the death but it will only be a temporary stay.  Then what will happen to our clients?  People who depend on us?  They will “move on” and forget about us.  This is one of the lessons of being quiet and waiting for the lesson.

An idea from our past: the kaddish is the prayer that asks God to acquit the dead.  It is an altruistic prayer, a gift to the souls who have passed.  That is noble.  It is also an act of memory and who does not want to remembered after their life is over?

Another item learned from saying kaddish is the broad path that is left by death.  When we stand to say kaddish in a community we are rarely alone.  Looking around we see others who have suffered. We knowingly look at them and they at us as we share a bond, a sacred unspoken bond.  We support one another.  That is why kaddish happens only in a minyan, in a community.  It is never to be said alone.

Abraham Joshua Heschel wrote, “God is concern, not only power.  God is He to whom we are accountable.  In the wake of religious insight, we retain an awareness that the transcendent God is He to Whom our conscience is open.”  In other words, God wants us to be accountable.  He does not desire us to pass by the many roads of life without looking both ways.  We are supposed to laugh, cry, talk, be silent at all the appropriate times.

And regarding taxes (see third paragraph), a law student was finishing a course in federal income tax.  As he was walking in to take the final he spotted a penny, heads up, on the ground.  He picked it up and said to the professor, “It must mean good luck for the exam.”

“Not necessarily,” he replied.  “But it does mean you have taxable income.”

Be accountable.  Be responsible.  It is God’s gift to you and the best gift you can give yourself.

Do

 Once there was a lonely woman.  She went to class by herself.  She did homework alone.  No one wanted anything to do with her.  There was a good reason for it; she was not a nice person.

Feeling isolated, she went to a rabbi seeking advice.  A far as she was concerned she was fine.  Life was treating unfairly (people tend not be able to see personal flaws).  While sitting with the rabbi her personality shone through and he saw the young woman for what she was, selfish and self-centered.

“What should I do?” she wept as she told of her isolation.

The rabbi listened compassionately, waited and then said, “Here is what I want you to do.  Go to the school cafeteria as you usually do at lunch but I want you to look for people to help with their trays, paying for what they cannot, getting them salt, a seat, whatever.”

The young woman went away relieved that she had a specific task to do.  It enabled her to focus on something and slowly, as she performed these helpful duties, she began to see herself differently, and, as a result, others began to view her differently too.

Many programs like Dr. Phil or lots of self-help books emphasize what is wrong with our lives and how to fiddle with it.  They tell us to enroll in step programs or take certain classes which will change our behavior.

The Jewish approach tells us that what we do influences the way we think and behave. That is why we place such a heavy emphasis on mitzvot and tend to minimize creeds or statements of faith.

Rabbi Abraham Joshua Heschel wrote, “God is more immediately found in the Bible as well as in acts of kindness and worship than in the mountains and forests. It is more meaningful for us to believe in the immanence of God in deedsthan in the immanence of God in nature.”

Heschel teaches us that our actions, mitzvot, as a response to the call of God.  That in addition to the fact that when we act we change our character are strong reason to follow the mitzvoth our faith places before us.

There are always mitzvot to perform  On Shabbat we bless our children, bless our spouse, light candles, make Kiddush.  Pesach follows with its own actions/mitzvot.  Each time we act with God, travel the path of our ancestors we alter some powerful part of our self.

 

 

This is for the thoughts I place at the bottom of my column:

A Jew is asked to take a leap of action rather than a leap of thought- -Abraham Joshua Heschel

Av

"Woe unto the heart that is not broken,” wrote Aryeh Cohen. 

No one wants pain but no one can avoid it.   

People let us down.  

Our bodies are instruments where the parts wear out and sometimes are defective.  

The things that we expect to make our lives simpler often do the opposite.  

When life does not cooperate with our expectations it is frustrating, to say the least.

 

As we pass through time we amass a wide array of these broken experiences.  Learning how to manage life’s disappointments is wisdom.   Wisdom does not come from books or what others teach us, it what we learn as the wheel of life turns.

 

This month on August 13 is Tisha B’Av, on the Jewish calendar.  Tisha B’Av is a day of historic tragedy.  It marks when our ancestors the Children of Israel, were sentenced o forty years of aimless wandering in the desert. It is the day that marks the destruction of the both the first and second Temples in Jerusalem.  It is also the anniversary of when Betar, the last breath of Jewish independence for 2,000 years fell.  Jews all over the worlds read Jeremiah’s Lamentations and fast.

 

Why?  Why bother to remember an historic event that has no bearing on our life?

 

A story:

 

One Tisha B’Av Napoleon rode by a synagogue in small town and noticed Jews sitting on the ground and wailing bitterly.

“Why are the Jews crying?” he asked a bystander.

“They are mourning their land which was destroyed about two thousand years ago,” he was informed.

These words deeply impressed Napoleon.  “A nation that can mourn over the destruction and loss of their land which occurred two thousand years ago,” he exclaimed, “Such a people will never perish.  They may be certain they will survive and that their land will eventually be restored to them.”

 

Our memory - both individual and collective – takes our pain and uses it to become wiser in our years.  Just as a scab started out as a bleed, it becomes much more resilient when new skin forms over it.  But, and this is crucial, a scar remains to remind us and teach us how to enrich our lives through the panoply of our experiences, good and bad.