Love of God

There are different types of personalities, thank God.  Yet, sometimes these “different” types can lead to misunderstandings.  Here is one example:

Rabbi Levi Yitzchak of Berditchev was full of exuberance while Rabbi Baruch of Medzhibozh was reserved.  When Levi Yitzchak davenned (prayed) he was so full of joy and enthusiasm that he often shouted, swayed, danced and sang extemporaneously.  Rabbi Baruch was just the opposite.   He davenned quietly, moving his lips, barely swaying, the picture of calm.  Stories about Rabbi Baruch’s holiness and piety were legend. 

When Rabbi Yitzchak heard of Rabbi Baruch’s erudition and holiness, he yearned to spend a Shabbat with him.  Yet, he was warned not be to be over-ecstatic.  People told Rabbi Levi to control himself if he was going to sit in the presence of this great luminary.  It would not be fitting for Rabbi Levi to be his usual excitable self.

Rabbi Levi vowed that when he sat at Rabbi Baruch’s table he would not open his mouth except to say “Amen” to the blessings he heard.

When the date finally arrived, Rabbi Levi sat attentively at the table, barely moving.  He watched the motions of Rabbi Baruch intensely and yet refrained from budging an inch, although it was quite difficult for him.

There used to be a tradition on Shabbat that the meal would consist of sweet and sour fish.  The seated guests would take their preference. 

Late in the meal Rabbi Baruch turned to Rabbi Levi and asked, “Which do your prefer?  The sweet or sour fish?”

At that point Rabbi Levi could no longer contain himself and jumped up from his seat.  “Do I like sweet or sour fish?!!  I love God!” he yelled with gusto and joy.

As he sprang up, so did his Kiddush cup which splashed all over Rabbi Baruch’s tallit.  Along with most of the food! 

A hushed silence fell over the table.  When Levi Yitzchak saw what he had done he was embarrassed and apologized profusely.   Yet, the stately Rabbi Baruch shushed Levi Yitzchak and his guests.  He said, “Anyone who loves God so deeply is truly a holy man.” 

Shlomo Carlebach taught that Rabbi Baruch never washed his tallit.  The stains were there for the rest of his life as a sign of real devotion to God.

It is a Jewish custom that a person is buried in the tallit that they wore during their lifetime.  Yet, this was not the case for this holy tallit.  That tallit was handed down from generation to generation of rabbis until it came into the possession of the Munkitcher rebbe who only wore it at Neila, the conclusion of Yom Kippur, as the tallit was so fragile.  When the Munkitcher died the tattered tallit was finally buried with him.

Every day we read, “And you shall love the Lord, your God….”.   Is it really so challenging to choose love?  To elect to see goodness?  The way we view the world is a reflection of who we are.  Perhaps that is why the Torah is so insistent that we love God.  If we dedicate ourselves to finding the source of such love within ourselves the world becomes so much brighter.

Mitzvah

“We are sinful not merely because we have eaten of the Tree of Knowledge, but also because we have not yet eaten of the Tree of Life.”- Franz Kafka

Mitzvah lies at the core of Judaism.  Mitzvah is our attitude to life; our interrelationship with all things animate and inanimate.  I do not think there is any more oft misunderstood concept than this:

Mitzvot are the hands of life.  Mitzvah is the way the Jew reaches out into the universe and understands it.  There are 613 different ways to express Mitzvah, each one a definite action.  Some example:

We put on a Tallit, wrapped our torso in its fabric as we utter the blessing.

No one needy must be passed without doing tzedaka.  Some need money.  Some need food.  Many need a kind word.

The food that we eat must be balanced so that meat and dairy are not inadvertently mixed.  Meat is death.  Milk is life.  They are not to be consumed together.

Candles must be lit as the sun sets every Shabbas to bring light and deep warmth into our home.

The sick must be healed.

Slaves must be redeemed.

Jewish homes must have mezuzahs on their door.

The list moves on.  Each mitzvah is a commandment to use our hands. 

If Mitzvah represents our hands then learning is our heart.

On Coming into a Synagogue

On the Jewish Laws of head coverings:

Men: Nowhere in the Torah does the Law indicate that males must cover their heads.  Most likely, people living in the environs of such hot climes wore some kind of protection from the fierce heat of the sun.  Yet, a yarmulke or kippa is not indicated.  The word kippa simply mean ‘covering’.   Yarmulke, on the other hand, comes from an amalgamation of yareh Elokim, ‘fearing God’. 

One famed Talmudic rabbi, Nachman bar Yitzhak, would never venture forth without first covering his head out of “fear of the Lord.”  From that distant time it gradually evolved that wearing some kind of covering over one’s head showed appropriate reverence for God. 

Women: Unlike the custom with men, a woman covering her head has more ancient roots that began with married women wearing a covering over their hair to show both modesty and an identification that they were married (a ring was a later introduction).

How to enter the Synagogue:

When entering the doors of the shul, we are supposed to pause, gauge our new surroundings, and leave any baggage outside the doors.  One Hasidic Master said that when entering into a holy space, we should feel as if we area passing over a border into a new country.  That is why, perhaps, we are supposed to recite the Mah Tovu prayer to ourselves as we first come in.  The Mah Tovu was first uttered by an outsider names Balaam who was struck with the awesomeness of God.  In the same way, we imagine and galvanize ourselves to gaze at the face of the Almighty.

On choosing a seat:

It is a definite help to choose a place where you feel most comfortable.  Questions to be considered:  Can you see what you need to see?  Can you hear the Torah being read?  The prayer that are being recited?  Some like to be near the door, others proximate to the Bima.  Whatever the place might be, stay in the same general location whenever you return.  You may find that the space choose you.  Comfort and familiarity are important.

At the same time, it is good to be seated around people who are like-minded. There is nothing so distracting as sitting near talkers.  Find a place that feels and is right for you.

On putting on a Tallit (tallis):

A Hasidic Rebbe once said that the time a woodcutter spends sharpening his axe is as important as the time he spends cutting down the tree.

1. Make sure that the stings in the four corners (tzitzit) are intact).
2. Place the Tallit over the head and cover the face with the cloth.
3. Ask God to protect and envelope you with care.  “In Your light, may we see light,” is a traditional prayer.
4. Utter the berakha (blessing) in the prayer book, page 2.
5. Drape around shoulders.