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

 

Do You Love Me?

One of the most impressive and memorable scenes from Fiddler on the Roof is win Tevye asks his wife if she loves him. Remember what happened? She guffaws. Tevya insists on having an answer while Golde continues to balk and stall. Finally when pressed to the point, “Do you love me?” she resignedly mutters, still trying to avoid the issue, “I suppose I do.”

Nowhere does it state that a woman must love her husband or vice versa. In all 613 commandments found the Torah there is no law demanding that we love our spouse. I have yet to come across a mitzvah among the thousands of mitzvot in the Talmud either. Certainly, there are commandments about fidelity, sexual relations, raising children, obligations toward parents, physical support, but not in love.

There are numerous magnificent statements and stories in our literature about caring, sensuality and devotion -one thinks of the grade passages of love and tenderness between Rabbi Akiva in Rachel or Rabbi Meir and his wife Bruria - but no all encompassing rule exists demanding between love spouses.

When a young couple meets we say they “fall in love.” It is precisely that, an act of falling. The effect is intoxicating and dizzying. Heads spin and emotions gyrate like a top. But it is not all love, it is mostly falling. The warm spots on flushed cheeks, the clammy hands and sweaty brow are all part of a feeling of lust and desire. To be sure, that is the beginning or foundation of love but not more.

Love is born from adversity and joy. It emerges through time via the pains of loss and renewal of life. The birth of a child is not necessarily an act of love but it is a sign post; holding hands through shiva is not love either but it is a marker along that path. Directionals on the road abound but when we desire a renewal of the libidinous rush that infected our youth, disappointment arises.  Just we no longer laugh at the silly jokes that made us double over when we were young and cannot maintain a marathon pace of life as we age, so too we cannot turn back the dial of time to recreate re-create the first kiss feeling the burning desire of youth.

Love is a road we travel but seldom appreciate.

Through the passage of years our mate has seen us at our worst temper; without masks of competence and certainty they have witnessed our triumphs and crushing defeat. Our moles are exposed.

Love to do with caressing and holding? What has love to do with comfort during the period of rejection? Everything.

            

Love takes hard work and effort.

“Do I love you?” After all that has been said and done, after all the late nights and changing diapers, the ear infections and illnesses; after the difficult process of adjustment following the marriage, after the frightening stay at the hospital and nights alone in an empty home, after the anxiously watching children exit the home in venture out into the world, the problems with work; after all these things, yes I suppose I do.

That Which is Difficult is Easy

 That which is difficult is easy, the easy is difficult. Why is this so?

We get through most of life's challenges by making snap decisions, knee-jerk reactions or having honed responses so finely that we do not linger over them. 

But present most people with an easy question like, "What is life for?" "What is your purpose in living?" And they begin to stutter and mumble.

"Oh," you say, "those are not simple questions!"  

I counter, "If every day we make decisions that are hinged upon our response to those questions we should know the answer.  Well, you go to work, open savings accounts, put money away for vacations, tell your kids they need more education, do all these things and so many more and you would never think to ask what is our purpose? The answer to that question should inform the rest of our lives.  The reason why we do everything in life should be our response to the question, "What is our life's purpose?"

 Nu?

The first man and woman in the garden had a single task: to maintain what had been created in Eden.  As we know that simple charge ended in failure. 

Noah was assigned seven commandments for his heirs.  As the Torah and history reveals, this experiment also failed. 

So what is the ultimate lesson that curtails humanity's appetite for wrongdoing?  How does Torah configure the destiny of humanity?  It answers, make him responsible for more than himself.  While this may seem counterintuitive, read on.

In the Talmud, we learn of one of the students a rabbi who became ill.  As the student was new to the Academy and not very well learned or known no one went to visit him.  When the master, Rabbi Akiva, heard that his student was sick he ran to his home to pay him a visit.  The brief tale ends with the student rising out of his sickbed and thanking his teacher profusely for restoring him back to life. The lesson? Everyone is obligated to visit the sick.  This is not a good deed. It is a mitzvah, a commandment.

"Those who do not visit the sick are guilty of spilling blood," declare our sages.

There is another story of a ship floundering in a fierce storm. One companion said to another, "This is the worst thing to ever happen!"  His companion replied, "No. Something far worse would be when someone asks you for bread and you have none to give." 

In these instances and one thousand more examples just like them, our responsibility in life, to God and to the world is not to hoard but a gift to be taken and shared. Giving gives life meaning.

Returning to the initial question posed at the beginning of this message, "that which is difficult is easy, the easy is difficult" is simple to understand. We fight against doing what we feel is imposed upon us (mitzvah).  That makes it difficult. But once we self obligate to do God's will we find it is very easy and our actions breathe meaning into life.  And on the other side of the equation, when we do that which is most expedient it provides no sense of real achievement.  In the final analysis, it leaves us empty.

So, what is the meaning of life? What is your answer?

On Summer

        Grappling with the answer to ‘knowing why we are alive’ occupies so much of our time and energy.  There are times when we fully grasp the answer and we are exultant.  Other times we float in the void of not-knowing and are in despair.  During those moments of full self-disclosure life is utterly meaningful.  The largest question of life is how to live within that mind set...

Midrash: One of the young acolytes of Rabbi Akiva became ill.  Tilting toward death, the Master heard of his disciple’s danger. [Mind: this was one of thousands of aspiring students.]  Rabbi Akiva went to visit the ailing man.  Seeing that the room was drab and dark he opened the shutters, swept the room clear and brought him some hot broth.

Immediately, the young man began to sit up and recover his waning strength,

Rabbi Akiva then entered the Academy and pronounced, “Whoever does not visit the sick, it is as if they have snatched their life away.” 

            No act is ever committed in a vacuum.  There are ripple effects to every action we will have ever taken/ will ever take.  What is most disturbing is that we will never be aware of the full extent of our deeds.  All we have is the view in front of our eyes.  If we knew, for example, that our erratic driving caused someone to go home angry and start a fight with their family, we would seriously re-think our actions.  On the other hand, if we were aware of the full extent of the surprise phone call we made to a friend experiencing problems, we might call more often.  The fact is- we can not know these things.

            Riddle: what do you call someone sitting shiva alone? Answer: unrequited pain.  A death that had no response.

            One thing that we all share in common is loss.  No one gets through this world without the awful pain of death.  The typical Jewish response to death is shiva, bringing over meals for the bereft, showing up at minyans for the survivors, coming the funeral, following up with letters and calls...  All these responses to death ameliorate the pain.  The same is true of hospital stays, divorces and so much more.  Every visitor takes away a fragment of the pain when they leave.  Their presence and words gives meaning to life. 

            As once-upon-a-time you needed help and cried out, so it is with others.  What if we were created just for this specific purpose?  What if our lives had meaning only because of an event yet to unfold where our comfort was needed?

            I wish for all family members (that's you) a summer of opportunities to do both good deeds and mitzvot.  May our light dispel the darkness and through that light come meaning.

All Things Considered

“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 an understanding of where we are in the world is important. When we know where we stand chaos is minimized; confusion is 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.

The famous Rabbi Akiva is a prime example of someone who possessed a worldview that enabled him to lead a rich life.  Akiva’s life was far from ideal.  He was an impoverished and illiterate shepherd.  He had virtually no possessions, certainly nothing of real value.   Akiva fell in love with the daughter of a rich landowner.   Embarrassed by his ignorance Akiva spent years separated from her trying to make up his lack of 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 shepherd. 

Akiva’s guiding principle in life was, “Everything God does is for our good.”  Now, that did not mean that Akiva joyfully embraced the 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 have heard 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