The Mendy Logs 2010
January 2, 2010
Parsha Vayechi
Mendy began by telling a story about the three cover pages published in the New York Times in the year two thousand. The first showed the cover page of 1990, the second, the day’s news of 2000, and the third predictions of 2010. At the bottom of the predictions page was a small line that read: “Jewish woman and girls will be lighting candles today at 4:45 p.m.” When asked in 2000 why that was included, the Catholic editor said that the only thing to be guaranteed is that Jewish girls and woman would be lighting candles. That was a real sweet story, and offers us a modicum of assurance and stability in a world where little is assured and little is stable.
The parsha this week is the last parsha in Genesis and deals with the death of Jacob and the blessings of his sons and of Joseph’s sons Manassah and Ephriam. Joseph, always the favorite son, receives a wonderful blessing, and when Joseph presents his own sons, Jacob places his right hand, the favored hand, on the head of Ephriam, the younger of the two. Joseph tries to reverse his father’s hands, but the patriarch is insistent. The favoring of the younger brother is a recurring idea in the Torah beginning with G od favoring Able’s offering over Cain’s, continuing with Jacob being favored of Esau, Joseph over all his brothers, and now, Ephriam over Manassah. In the Haftorah read today, we also see David blessing Solomon and giving him the kingdom over elder brothers.
What the Torah is clearly stating is that the concept of primogeniture, the concept of the eldest son inheriting in all ancient and some modern traditions, does not work in Judaism. Judaism, always a religion of transformation, was breaking new ground in society, and establishing meritocracy, not birth order, as the criteria for spiritual and secular leadership. One additional piece of information about these two brothers is that when a parent blesses his sons with the priestly benediction, it is prefaced with the words, “May G od make you like Ephriam and Manassah. Mendy asked us why this is done, and I responded with the statement that though raised in an alien environment with all the temptations that Egypt had to offer, these young men learned and remained true to their father’s faith. For their steadfastness in the face of temptation, they are so honored. For girls, parents bless them in the names of the matriarchs, because each also makes the choice since they came out of homes where paganism was the norm. All had to choose. The patriarchs did not choose but were chosen, so while they are honored, we do not bless our children in their names. Following these blessing, the other brothers make their appearances are given “blessings.” Some do not appear to be blessings, especially for the eldest three. Jacob seems to falter when speaking of his eldest, and his exasperation for Reuven is clear. Anthropologist have learned through ancient Mesopotamian records that the eldest son, when inheriting the leadership of the tribe, established his right to rule by taking to bed the former leaders concubines. Jacob, though living in this environment, found the tradition odious and seemed to stop mid blessing when the presence of his son reminded him of his son’s infraction. In tern, Judah and Levi remind Jacob of the Shechem slaughter, and like their older brother, Jacobs statement to them is not really a blessing. So it is left to the Rabbis and commentators to interpret what was really being said to the brothers, and turn them into blessings. I guess these interpreters were divinely inspired to see what I cannot.
Genesis ended, and with the ending of each the five books of the Torah, the congregation traditionally stands and says, “Be strong, be strong, and let us strengthen one another.” Again, the idea here is that the strength of the people comes from each member seeing him or herself as one obligated to support the others in the group. We are one people, one family, and that is one source of our continuing existence. What’s also nice is that anyone can join this family if he or she is so moved.
Genesis is a wonderful book filled with wonderful stories that aim to both inspire and inform our behavior. The characters, are thoroughly human, at times frail, at times brave, complex, fearful, anxious, joyful, crafty, generous, etc. In short, they experience the entire range of human emotions in their responses to the world about them. And they are all proactive. No one in Genesis stands still. They have visions and they have missions. They are impelled to act, and that’s why we can relate to them so readily. We are angry with them, we admire them, we laugh and cry with them, and we love them because we are them. They continue to live because they are as beautiful and as flawed as we are. Their triumphs and tragedies continue to speak to us. But there is something more at work in Genesis. Alan Dershowitz posited the idea that Genesis is a prequel book to Exodus. Exodus, literally a book of moving forward, is a book where specific laws regarding human behavior are clearly stated. But can laws exist without prior behavior to stimulate or inspire such laws into existence? First, there has to be a behavior for someone to judge that that behavior is either good or bad. A law for or against said behavior is promulgated. According to Dershowitz, narrative precedes law. Human beings relating to each other and to their societies make up the core stories of Genesis. The laws of Exodus may very well be a response to the experiences of the people of Genesis.
January 30, 2010
Parsha Beshalach
Today is Tu Bishvat, the new year of trees. I wasn’t aware of it, but it seems that with in the Jewish calender there are four commemorations of new years: one for trees, one for animals, one for kings, and one for the world which everyone knows as Rosh Hashonah. Mendy spoke metaphorically, making the comparison between people and trees. He spoke of trees that look strong and display massive limbs and a profusion of leaves, but in a great wind storm, such trees might blow over and be destroyed. He mentioned those trees that don’t look like much, scrawny, willowy, and gnarled but still able withstand the buffeting gale. The point he was making was that there are people who are very much like such trees, and the mark of a person, regardless of how he or she looks, is how they respond to the storms of life or as Shakespeare wrote, “the whips and arrows of outrageous fortune.” It is one’s humanity in the face of adversity that speaks to one’s true character. The man who appears to be more like the frail birch might bend when buffeted by the storm , whereas the man who is more like the oak might fall. It was a good analogy.
Mendy also spoke of leadership and this related to the parsha of the week which had the children of Israel caught between Scylla and Charybdis, between the Egyptian army and the Sea of Reeds. Leadership was the focus of his message, and he spoke of Nachshon, who happens to be one of my heroes. When Moses urged the Israelites into the water, they thought him mad, but this one man, Nachshon, with full faith in G od, stepped into the water and when the water got to Nachshon’s nose, the sea parted. This teaches that miracles don’t just happen. Miracles happen when people act and partner with G od. It was Nachshon’s faith that G od would act to save the people that caused the miracle to happen. Sometimes G od is a willing partner, and sometimes G od is not. But always, it is incumbent upon us to act first. Again, pray as if everything depends on G od, and act as if everything depends on you.
Following the splitting of the sea and the destruction of the Egyptian army, the people sing a song of praise to G od for the wonders performed. There was a major discussion during the Talmudic period as to how the people responded to this miraculous event, because Mendy devoted much of his time to three rabbinic leaders of the Talmud and their interpretation of the how and the why of this hymn of praise. At this moment I cannot recall the names of the rabbis. The first one he spoke of was either Hillel, or Akiva, the next was Rabbi Eliazar, and the third rabbis name began with an N. Again, one cannot take notes, and I am happy that I can remember this much.
Mendy’s comments also related to the concept of leadership, although I cannot recall the exact connection. In any case, the first rabbi insisted that leadership is revealed when one person tells others what they must do, and those told, follow without question. This first rabbi favored the idea that Moses composed the song, and the people sang exactly what he told them to sing. I think it was the third rabbi who insisted that the people composed the song simultaneously, and each separate individual was inspired with the same words. The concept of leadership here is that a leader is to inspire, and the people take over and act on their own to achieve the purpose. At this moment, I cannot recall the third concept of leadership and how it was interpreted by the rabbi as it related to the song.
Leaders want their constituents to accept what they have to say and act accordingly. Good leaders take their followers through a process that is similar to the process for developing values. If something is to be of value, it must be chosen from alternatives. It must be chosen after thoughtful consideration of the consequences. It must be chosen freely, and affirmed publicly. The value must also be stronger than a feeling. A good leader will make the case, lay out the pros and cons, and invite those listening to him or to her to consider, weigh, choose, and affirm though action by following.
It is interesting to note that there are some people who will pretend value something because they want to please, but when they are not under the guise of those whom they want to please, they might ignore the value. Children who are not given options may act on what their parents demand of them, but out of sight, they may act in a very different way. You can beat a value into some one, but it would be there only as long as the threat is there. How to inculcate values and likewise leadership skills are skills needed to be taught, and they can only be taught through modeling. Parents who drop their children off at the synagogue to be taught, but are not consistent in their holiday observances or attendance at services, are in effect saying to their children: “You value this education we are providing for you, but it is not something that should effect your way of life.” And it will not. The parents are modeling that this religion is a sporadic thing that belongs to your childhood and early adolescent years, but not needed when you are an adult. Parents are also leaders in their families.
February 13, 2010
Parsha Mishpatim
Mendy initially spoke of two laws: the first was a request for half a shekel or a half dollar to be given to the Temple, and the second spoke to a prohibition regarding the grafting of one species onto another. He asked why only a half and not a whole?, and what meaning can be found in the grafting of trees? The commentary that followed spoke of how we, like the half shekel, are only half of the whole, and that G od is the other half in the equation and how we need to be mindful of G od as an influence in our lives from moment to moment. To extend the metaphor, it would seem that through our actions, we daily bring ourselves to the Temple to encounter the G od that makes us whole. It was a meaningful interpretation of these ancient laws.
In some way that I no longer can recall, this led to the problem humans have of remaining on focus during any particular moment without our brains carrying us to other places that keep us from being in the here and now. Lurking somewhere in this was the implicit idea that we frequently find that we do not involve ourselves totally in the moment at hand, and this tends to injure our relationships, especially with our wives. Interestingly enough, I found myself leaving Mendy’s moment and thinking about Martin Buber and his I - Thou concept where he states that it is only when one is totally and truly focused on another person or an object then one can indeed experience G od. Such a focused moment might be rare, but it is always rewarding. In most instances, our relationships are I-It where something or someone becomes an object to be used. Having such moments are normal, but if I-It it is the only aspect in a relationship one experiences, it may not be a good relationship. The prohibition against grafting seemed to be the Bible’s way of saying that we must not deny people or things their right to their individuality or their right to rely on their own strengths. Each of us is unique with a unique gift to offer, and being lumped into a group or metaphorically grafted onto someone or something tends to reduce our individuality. Our differences are our strengths and what makes us unique as an individual or as a people are where our strengths lie. Again, as Mendy spoke, I found myself drifting to Genesis and thinking about the statement about a man and women becoming one flesh. I wondered if this were a contradiction. Marriage is a coming together of two people with the focus of creating a home and a family to carry on traditions, but must one subordinate one’s self to the marriage and lose one’s individuality? Marriage is a graft of sorts. Something to think about.
Somewhere in the talk I was reminded of the concept of the multiculturalism, and how that movement seeks to level the playing field by stating that all cultures are good and all moralities are equal. I reject this concept completely, because there are some ideas, ways of life, and moralities that are clearly superior to others. The view that life is the supreme value as taught in our tradition is clearly superior to any concept of modesty that would allow girls to burn to death because they might not appear immodestly in public, or allowing girls to die at birth because they are not boys. Yet a true multiculturalist might disagree. And I suddenly saw that I had refocused, was no longer in Mendy’s moment, and could not remember what brought me to where I was. I became at that moment the perfect example of what he was talking about. I lost focus in the moment.
Mendy also raise the question as to why, after the elevated ideals given in the Ten Commandment, does the Torah begin issuing rules about things as mundane as helping your enemy’s donkey if it falls beneath its burden. For me, the answer was clear even though I chose not to respond. The big ten are lofty ideas that exist both as guides for establishing a stable society, and as headings under which all other commandments in the Torah might be subsumed. But how to live day to day and how to deal effectively, honestly, and morally with your fellow human beings is what is also needed between the moments when a person is making the big decisions on whether or not to commit adultery or to covet. For example, we are commanded to love our neighbor. We are not commanded to love everybody. Our ancestors recognized that loving everyone was too broad an abstraction, and therefore too easy to dismiss being impossible, but loving a neighbor who might also be a complete ass was a better test of a person’s mettle. Moses was so wise. It was the interpretations of these commandments and my subsequent musings about them that got me really thinking about why I’ve chosen to attend Chabad each Shabbat even though I accept the reality that I will never be more than a tangential part of this community. I am not ashamed to say that I go there to listen to Mendy who is skilled at revealing to me the secrets hidden in the Torah. I doubt if others attend for this reason. I also go there because my soul finds comfort in the sound of other men praying in Hebrew, and I am profoundly moved by the intensity and apparent faith of those around me. Most appear to be far more learned and certainly more observant than I, but in truth, I have no personal knowledge at to whether any of them are more spiritual than I or even give spirituality much thought. To be perfectly honest, my encounter with the transcendent does not come from the siddur, and I frankly find the repetition of the prayers of praise and thanks boring, misguided if you consider the history of my people, and restrictive. While I’m sure I would find comfort in believing in the Orthodox concepts of G od posited in the siddur, I do not believe in a personal G od who hears and responds to these prayers, who is involved in history, or who is aware of me as an individual. My concept of G od is the En Sof, the Endless Creative Existence in the universe who is the creator of all things, who is infused in all things, and beyond all our imaginings and conceptions.
Spinoza, deemed a heretic and excommunicated for positing such alien a concept of G od to the devout Jews of Amsterdam, was I believe closer to the mystical vision of G od posited in the Kabbalah. Spinoza, like the Jewish mystics, recognized a transformative energy that was infused in all natural things and was revealed in the Laws of Nature. To bring En Sof into humanity’s grasp, the sages, recognizing this sensed presence, postulated a personal deity that would be more easily addressed and more accessible than an Endless Creative Existence. This formulation is the revealed G od of the Bible. They wrapped our creation story in metaphor which morphed En Sof into an anthropomorphic Being who created us not in his physical image because Endless Creative Existence has no physicality, but created us as extensions of a limitless creative mind and spirit. And we, as human beings, have been created in that image. It’s not our physical bodies that image God, but our minds.
In our ability to reason and to create, we can find our Creator if we take the time to wonder. We are told that we are co-creators with the Creator. This idea is a vestige of a great ancient truth. En Sof is Endless Creative Existence, even if I don’t totally apprehend what that fully means. Perhaps I never shall. The story within the story of Gan Eden explores the human spirit’s quest to be like G od which is right and proper since En Sof endowed us with a reason and the ability to create. But even the realization that we contain the elements of G od’s mind no less the idea that we have the potential to become G odlike, had to be a frightening idea to our ancestors who conceived it. While the underlying apple story is the story of humanity’s natural quest for knowledge, the telling of that noble quest devolved into a transformational myth written to explain why there is pain in childbirth and why people have to work to survive while hiding the core truth. But that is overly simplistic and a diversion from the true issue which is that it is dangerous for humans to recognize their potential and their ability to approach and become, divine. We are even told that those who were already divine were fearful of our apotheosis and of eating the fruit of the Tree of Life. Philosopher Manly P. Hall wrote: “If the infinite had not desired man to be wise, He would not have bestowed upon him the faculty of knowing.” Beings such as ourselves who were created can also become creators. We can ascend and that must have been the En Sof’s intention for us when we were conceived at our beginnings. Perhaps this metaphoric ascent manifests itself in our nobility of thought and action. And when we begin to harness those powers within, we will have enormous control over our world. This human ascension has revealed itself throughout history by individuals acting alone and in concert with one another. Such people, through their actions, have designed and instituted new worlds and new ways of seeing. We have always had the power to create new realities rather than merely react to them. The thoughts of such people affected the world, and when those thoughts and ensuing actions were good, civilization and humanity took great strides. When those thoughts and actions were dark, the effects left deep scars. It is far easier to destroy something than to create and build. En Sof has endowed us with such abilities. Collectively, humanity can be the hoped for Messiah, the personification of a future time when justice and peace will be pervasive. We can bring this about if we chose to work together.
People who become creators of new paradigms and who risk taking action, are often called heretics. The Baal Shem Tov was a heretic. He created a new vision of how people could come to a relationship with G od, and he was torn down and rejected by those defenders of what had always been. But eventually, what he created found believers, and the believers reached a critical mass, and suddenly there was a new and viable movement that became a truth that is still transforming Judaism despite those who reject this path. The perception of those who stood on the sidelines was transformed by another truth, and a new reality called Chassidism was born and continues to attract young and old alike.
Mendy, you inspire me to think and to be honest in my assessment of myself and the world around me. Perhaps in another life I shall act. Note: If anyone reading this is interested in more of my take on theology, you can read my New Genesis and Credo.
February 20, 2010
Parsha Terumah
Today, Mendy did not speak about the Torah portion at all, but chose to speak about a man who was on death row for twenty-five years and then executed. The man was Jewish and murdered a police officer in cold blood because he knew that by taking a gun for target practice into a national park, he was committing a parole violation. He was already a felon. And rather than return to prison, he decided to murder the person who would take him into custody. Mendy said that he himself did not have an issue with the death penalty, but he signed a petition to stay this man’s execution for what seemed to be two reasons: First, the petition called for an extension for a period of time, and secondly, because the man was a Jew and we, as a people, have to speak up for our own. I can understand Mendy’s reasoning with the former, but I have a problem with his reasoning regarding the latter. Mendy said that as long as there is legal recourse open to us, we as members of the Jewish people, must take that opportunity to save a “member of the tribe.” To me, this seems too ethnocentric or chauvinistic for my tastes, and while the tradition teaches that there are many conditions that need to be present before capital punishment can be effected, the Torah is very clear on killing someone if it is not in self-defense.
(As a side note, the initiators of this petition were the Satmir Chasidim and the massive turn out for this man’s funeral came from the Satmirs. Personally, I am suspect of the Satmirs, not just because they don’t believe that Israel should exist, but because they do not consider any one who is not a Satmir a real Jew.)
It is to be noted that the only people who supported this petition were the Orthodox.
Personally, I do believe in the concept of kal Yisroel; all Jews being part of one great family. That said, I am not so jingoistic as to feel that an offending Jew must be supported no matter what. When a Jew is successful and makes the world a better place, I rejoice in that person’s portion and take personal pride that we are connected. When one brings us shame through their behavior, I see such behavior as a blemish on us, and I am effected personally. As with any ethnicity and religion, there are good Jews and there are bad Jews. This young man brought shame to his people.
Mendy tangentially touched on something that I thought was really important, but he chose not to expand on it because he might have thought that by addressing it he was just “preaching to the choir.” But the fact that a Jewish boy could murder someone in cold blood deserves our attention. My response would be that as the Jewish people become more assimilated into American culture and move further away from the idea that G od has expectations for our behavior, we become just like everyone else in the society as far as morality is concerned. This young man gave himself permission to become first a felon, and then a murderer. G od could not possibly have been a living presence in his life. Of course, you can have a strong Jewish upbringing and still not make the connection between what you do and what our Torah asks you to do. If G od is not at your center, then it is the individual who becomes the arbiter of right and wrong. Then again, many do pray three times a day and are still thieves. So the great question remains: What gave this person permission to kill in cold blood? Why was there no overriding switch in his head that stopped him? In his fear and panic, why did his default button not move him to “life is sacred?”
As always, Mendy invited questions and comments from the congregation. I chose not to ask my question, but it would have been this: “Mendy, do you have any parameters when it comes to saving a Jewish life or must the Jew be saved no matter what the offense?” I would have asked this because throughout our history, there have been Jews who thought they would be safe in Christian and in Muslim communities if they became quislings and reported on or gave up their people. Such traitors caused the deaths of other Jews even if they did not commit the crime with their own hands. For example, back in the 12th Century, a Jewish convert to Christianity named Theobold of Cambridge, testified that Jews were required to sacrifice a Christian child annually, the choice of place being made at an annual conference of rabbis. This first accusation of ritual murder opened the door that eventually led to the blood libel, the resultant deaths of thousands of Jews, and the destruction of Jewish towns and villages. Would Mendy have signed a petition to save Theobold of Cambridge? since a fundamental belief of Orthodoxy is that one can never convert. And what of the Jewish capos in the death camps? I don’t think I am mistaken in my understanding of that precept.
To describe Theodore of Cambridge, I would use the Yiddish word, moser. I believe there are truly evil people in this world, and a moser who contributes to the deaths of Jewish people to me is not deserving of mercy even if considered a Jew. The man who was put to death by the Florida justice system killed an innocent human being, but it doesn’t make a difference if the murderer was Jewish or he wasn’t Jewish. “To destroy one life is as if you have destroyed an entire world” is also a guide to deciding whether one is deserving of the ultimate punishment, and for me, that is a powerful teaching. Justice must be blind to ethnocentricity and religion as well. Most African-Americans supported OJ and shouted for joy when he was acquitted. Color was more important than justice. The Uni-Bomber was turned in by his brother. I think that the brother was a hero for placing justice above blood. I do believe that if my brother or one of my own children were responsible for the deaths of innocent people, I would do the same. To place blood above justice is as wrong as placing ethnocentricity and religion above justice. “Justice, justice you shall pursue.” The Torah is very clear on this matter of justice. This time, I think Mendy is off base for placing the man’s ethnicity above justice.
March 6, 2010
Parsha Parshat Parah
Mendy chose not to speak about the parsha which was about the golden calf , but chose to speak about the Sabbath and the Friday night table service. He told us that he pooled a number of teenagers as to their understanding of the Sabbath, and I think he was somewhat saddened to hear them relate only the restrictions. That in itself is a learning experience, and I hope he learned that even these Orthodox children associate the Sabbath more with prohibitions than with the joy that it is meant to be. Some re-teaching is in order with a focus on the spiritual rather than on the regulations. For me, had he asked, I would have said that the Sabbath is a special few hours on those Saturday mornings when I am able to attend where I can separate myself from the negativity in the world and the anxieties that come just by living, and allow my soul to be bathed in the sounds and sights of the Shabbat morning service at Chabad. When I fist enter, I close my eyes and just listen. For me, there is actually physical sensation of being filled up and a deep appreciation of the moment, an experience often "too deep for tears."
Mendy then turned his attention to the Sabbath meal and its importance. I learned several new facts which I will incorporate. One tradition to be instituted is to place a cloth under the breads to commemorate the dew on the ground that protected the manna when it fell. So now I know that there was protection both under it and over it. I knew that salt was used to commemorate the sacrifice, but I did not know that each person must dip his or her piece in salt which seems to make the chalah more distinctive. I also learned that gefilteh fish that we know is the chopped fish that was originally the center of an appetizer that had a filet of fish wrapped around its outside. This was done because one of the Sabbath prohibitions had something to do with being unable to separate the good from the bad on the Sabbath and that included boning fish. So some brilliant bubba came up with the idea of creating a dish that did not have bones. (Damned clever these Jews.) He also talked about the traditions of lighting a minimum of two candles and of other traditions, and of the wine that is meant to ease the stress of the week and invite participation. These I knew.
I think Mendy missed something important in his exhortation to make Shabbat happen in one’s home. When I think of my Sabbath table, I see in it blurts of my people’s history. Yes, the two breads are to remind us of the double portion of manna collected, but they are also reminiscent of the loves of shew breads in the temple that were set in two rows. The cover above and below the breads recall the protection of the manna from the elements as we wandered in the desert, and the two candle sticks recall the two versions of the commandment to observe and to remember the Sabbath. The salt reminds us of the salt used in the sacrifices, and the water for washing the hands recalls the rituals for cleansing one’s self before the sacrificial offerings. The white table cloth recalls the pure table in the Temple. So in addition to reading an aspect of our history in the desert and our experience at Sinai, the Sabbath table also takes on the aura of what went on in the Temple itself.
The father stands and, like the priest, places his hands on his children’s heads and blesses them in the names of the matriarchs and Joseph’s sons which also teaches by recalling the choices these people made to embrace Judaism's G od. But by placing our hand on their heads, the father becomes a priest empowered to bless. No other religion on earth endows a father with such power. To me, the cutting of the challah is reminiscent of a sacrificial offering.
And by reading “A Woman of Valor” to his wife, the father is modeling for his children the respect and honor due the woman of the house. If young husbands or fathers actually understood the value of this weekly ritual and what it accomplishes for themselves and for those at the table, they would make every effort to make it happen weekly. And always, fresh flowers are presented to the wife for the Sabbath table as a token of affection and for beautification of the table.
I shall not go into details of my odyssey back to Judaism. Suffice it to say that when I first decided I would incorporate the Shabbat table into my life, I learned to do the following: The table always had a white cloth and fresh flowers were presented to my wife each Friday night. I also gave her a small token of affection. The candles were lite, and “Shalom Aleichem” was sung. This was followed by something called “highlights of the week” where we went around the table and shared the good things that had happened to us. The children could also do a “presentation” of something of which they were proud. “A Woman of Valor” was read, and my daughters were blessed. I taught myself to sing “vayacholoo” and the kiddish. I learned all necessary blessings and the meal began. Afterward, we did an abbreviated birchat hmazon and sang songs. Saturday morning we would go to shul (Beth Torah) in Willingboro and then we’d do “Super Shabbos” which was to do something that was both educational and fun. March 20, 2010
Parsha Vayikra
Mendy and a group of congregants just returned from Israel, and Mendy invited several men to the bimah to share their experiences. It was described as a wonderful trip, and I wish I could have been with them. Perhaps one day I shall. But I have my own recollections of Israel from my trip in 2005, and since most spoke about their experience at the Wall, I thought back to mine and to the log I kept. From the Golan, we traveled to Jerusalem, the city of David and the spiritual center of the Jewish universe. It’s a beautiful city, partially because a law was past in the early part of the last century by the British that only Jerusalem stone may be used in all construction. So there is a uniformity about the city, and this particular stone glows gold when the sun hits it just at the right angle at sun rise and sun set. The is a song entitled, “Jerusalem of Gold” that was written after it was recaptured from the Jordanians in 1967.
Everyone who had ever been to the Western Wall assured me that the experience would be profound and life altering. For some reason, everyone just expected that I, too, would have such an experience and I expected just as much. In my fanciful imagination, I had a Mahler symphony playing and several choirs singing in full voice accompanying my personal epiphany. I expected that Shechinah would descend upon me and transfigure me into the spiritual being I craved to be. Sadly, these things did not happen. The Wall seemed to have other experiences in store for me different from the ones I anticipated. Perhaps I was just too exited to see the Western Wall and to touch it, or perhaps I was just too tired. Or perhaps I was just too needy to feel the awe of the place and just too aware of the need to feel it. A person can lose the moment by focusing on the need and not on the experience itself. I think now that there were too many expectations, mine and others, not enough suspension of the self, and certainly not enough preparation for such a moment. I did hear something akin to music, but it was the soft murmuring cadences of other Jewish men who had also come there to pray and perhaps to also experience something of the holy. I was not absorbed by the sacredness of the spot, though I was fully aware of the awesomeness of the place. In the spiritual center of the Universe, I could not find my spiritual center. I had not prepared myself.
So I think that my experience at the Wall, by not fulfilling my expectations, was to make me more aware of the work I had to do to make my soul become more spiritually connected. I should have known that in such sacred places and at such sacred moments, one had to be able to free oneself from ego and earthly concerns and give oneself up to whatever was waiting. Such a spiritual connection takes work. I had not done the work, and it did not occur to me that I had withheld myself from the work that needed to be done. Releasing oneself into the moment, especially a sacred moment, is not an easy thing for me to do. Perhaps it is easy for truly pious people or people who do not endlessly struggle with theology, but I am neither. To enter sacred space, time needs to be suspended, and rational doubts need to be deferred. The mind needs to be cleared and open for elevated thoughts. Sacredness demands it. So needing to connect to this hallowed space, I placed my open palms against the golden stone and conjured a cognitive imagining that if the electrons in the extremities of my hands would form a bond with the electrons of the stone in the Wall, at least a connection could be made on an atomic level. Theoretically, the Wall and I would be one. Now that would be something. Certainly, if G od is everything as Spinoza taught, it would happen So, with my palms and forehead pressed against the very same stones that countless numbers of my people touched and wept upon, my Zeydeh’s tallis covering my head and shoulders, I desperately tried to physically and emotionally connect with my G od, the Temple Wall, my history, and my people. Like in most things, we expect G od to do the work for us, and I have to once again remind myself that that is not how G od works in this world. A midrash tells us that Nachshon ben Amidai walked into the sea up to his nose before the sea parted for the children of Israel. He did something to create his own miracle. He did his work and his work was one of faith. I had done no work, and as I had withheld myself from the work, the Wall withheld itself from me. That in itself was a major learning or relearning. And with that learning came a fuller understanding of the need for preliminary prayers, niguns, and focused imagery prior entering sacred time and sacred space. It takes time and a special mind set to realize before whom you stand when you face the Western Wall. Preparation is the key to the pardes gate. I had come with too many expectations for myself, for the Wall, and for G od. I had not done what I had to do to make my miracle happen. Standing there, were other blurts of revelations. One image that came to me was that I was in a place where all around me Jewish men were praying openly with reverence and passion, totally comfortable in their Judaism, and that I had never been as comfortable with my Judaism as I was at that moment. Another flash made me aware that I was in my ancestral homeland, and that if I could, I could trace myself back thirty-five hundred years to some farmer or herder, priest, or king who had sent his genetic material through centuries to a descendent who had finally returned to where his family began. Lastly, it came to me that the mighty Roman Empire that burned the Holy Temple and carried away its great treasure and people to build the Coliseum and beautify Rome, was long dead, and that I and my people were still here, still vibrant, and still trying to inch the world to a better tomorrow. And like the Western Wall, my people had survived the calumnies, the humiliations, and the brutalities of the centuries, and I know we shall continue to survive and continue our God given mission to bare witness to His law and to mend the world. Perhaps that all that can be learned at the Wall when time is limited and schedules demand attention and one has not truly prepared himself before entering such a sacred space. I did not get from the Wall what I came for, but I certainly did not walk away empty.
Connecting to the trip, Mendy told a story about a young Chasid who was a follower of the second Rebbe. It seemed this young man’s passion was to go to Israel, but he fell ill on his journey, and had to return home. His disappointment was profound, and the Rebbe comforted him by saying: “Make Israel where you are.” Mendy then invited us to think about how one might do that. How does one bring Israel into one’s life on a daily basis. For that to happen, I think one must understand what Israel stands for and how its “being” might effect an individual.
If Israel ever needed a motto, I think, “Wait till you see tomorrow!” would be a fitting one. It is a land of hope and of expectations with an indomitable spirit that is palpable. Bringing such a spirit of hope and expectations into one’s life can only make that life a better one and one worth living. I believe that to do so is to make Israel where you are. Then of course, there is the sanctity of this land and of Jerusalem itself. For me, Israel and Jerusalem are separate from the rest of the world on a purely spiritual plain, and to bring such sanctity into one’s life is to separate one’s self from that which is base in this world and from those instincts within ourselves that speak to our animal natures. To do so is to bring Israel into one’s life. And to do what is right when other choices are more tempting and rewarding, and to be honest when dishonesty is beneficial, and to be responsible when it is easier to walk away, are also ways of bringing the spirit of Israel to where I am.
Mendy also referred to sacrifice because the Torah portion was the beginning of Leviticus and the details of what is to be brought, when it is to be brought, and how it is to be prepared. We were asked to think of the sacrifices we make today, and we were asked to consider modern sacrifices as those activities we perform that are outside our comfort zones that make for a better world.
April 3, 2010
In order to understand what Mendy spoke of today, the seventh day of Passover and the day that commemorates the splitting of the Sea of Reeds, you have to understand the concept of midrash. A Midrash is a story that exists between the lines, and midrash stories are held in Orthodox tradition as having the same veracity as the Torah and the Talmud. For me, they are wonderful stories that fill in the spaces within established Torah stories and they were told by imaginative people who saw a need to flesh out the basic tale with additional details of events, characters, and philosophy. Now in dealing with the splitting of the sea, we are dealing with a miracle. Now miracles are those events that are unusual in nature. Miracles happen daily and seasonably, but because we are so used to seeing them, they appear normal. According to a midrash, before the beginning of creation, G od decreed that certain things would be created along with the other things we know about such as the heavens, earth, stars, etc. and these were things like: the mouth of the earth that would one day swallow Korah and the rebels, the mouth of Bilam’s donkey, the well that followed our ancestors in the desert, and a variety of other events that people call Biblical miracles. But our sages taught that by G od creating them at the time of creation and holding them until they were needed, they are not really miraculous happenings, but naturally ordained events. One of G od’s creations was water, and the midrash tells us that when G od created water, He informed the water that it would have to split itself in the future to save the Jewish People. G od then showed the water the righteous and pious Jewish souls to be born, and the water agreed. When it came time for the sea to split, the water refused. It seems, according to another midrash, there were four camps of thought at the sea as the Egyptians bore down on the Hebrews. One camp said that they had to fight, another said that they had to commit suicide, a third said that they should return to slavery, and the fourth said they should pray. No one seemed to think they should move ahead as G od intended. The water looked at these people and decided they were nothing like the worthy souls G od had shown it prior to creation, not worthy of being saved, and it refused to split. But in the Torah there is the story where Joseph requests that his bones be carried out of Egypt once the captivity was over, and when the water saw the bones of Joseph among the people, it recognized and remembered Joseph’s refusal to deny his heritage assimilate into the Egyptian world despite becoming a great leader. At the very same moment, another midrash tells us about a man named Nachshon ben Amidi who bravely walked into the water because of his faith that G od would save the people. At that moment, the water, recognizing that there were still pious and righteous people among the Jews, parted and the people passed through on dry ground. Delightful story.
Mendy, I knew the story of the bones of Joseph, and incorporated it into a graduation speech delivered at the Yeshiva. It follows.
Lech Lecha- an invitation to a journey into the unknown which may not be denied.
Lech Lecha-a rite of passage whose first step is called tomorrow.
It is written in our tradition that each of our ancestors, in order to encounter Hashem and become who they were to become, had to go out from the place where they were. Something out there was calling them, inviting them.
Abraham was the first to hear Lech Lecha, and he sets out into the unknown and he becomes the ancestor of mighty nations and mighty faiths.
Isaac also sets out with his father into the unknown, and into a Covenant with Hashem as does Jacob when he sets out for Beer Sheba to become Israel.
Joseph was sold by his brothers into the unknown to become a mighty counselor to Pharaoh and a savior to his people. And Moses flees Egypt into an unknown land called Media, finding Hashem and the strength to lead. And the Children of Israel hear Lech Lechca and are led into an unknown, hostile desert to the foot of Sinai and into history.
But the Children of Israel are told not to go out of Egypt empty handed, for along with the spoils of Egypt, they were told to take the bones of Joseph with them. The bones of Joseph-the bones of the person who was his people’s savior. The bones of Joseph, perhaps a metaphor for the Jewish commitment to community, values, history and tradition to be carried with us where ever we go.
You, like our ancestors, are hearing your own Lech Lecha and are setting out into your unknown to uncover the mystery of who you are and where you are going. And like our ancestors who carried out of Egypt the bones of Joseph, you also do not go out empty handed, for you take with you certain teachings that will direct you, counsel, you and sustain you if you choose to hold these teachings close to your hearts.
You have been taught you are part of a singular group of identifiable people who have a mission to be a light unto the nations, to model righteous behavior as Jews, and to be the voice of Hashem where ever you encounter cruelty and injustice. This is our reason for being and it is your purpose.
You have been given a vision that clearly states that cruelty and injustice need not be the norm and that tyrants and oppressive systems can be changed. Your ancestors in Egypt were the first to do it and we have been doing it ever since. You have been taught of the Messianic Vision, a vision of universal peace, the vision of the prophets. These are your bones of Joseph.
You were given the idea that as part of the Jewish people, you are obliged to act to bring about changes in the world that benefit all, but to bring about this change only under Hashem’s eternal moral law, for you know that if we substitute personal opinion for Hashem’s eternal law, values will become situational and morality will become relative.
You know that your purpose as participants in humanity and as members of the Jewish family is to assist Hashem in mending the world. These are your bones of Joseph.
You know that your Jewish identity is not solely centered in a set of dogmatic beliefs, but is also to be centered in a particular value system, in community, and history and that we will survive as a people as long as we all remain part of that community. These are also the bones of Joseph.
You also take with you the idea that Judaism is a life affirming faith whose adherents worship a life affirming G-d; a G-d whose primary expectation is that we treat each other well. And finally my dear students, you will go out into the unknown, into a world that will often tempt you with excess. But you know that you can control your appetites-not by stifling them, but by mastering them; enjoying everything in Hashem’s world with moderation, understanding that once your have marked off the limits of that which is permitted and that which is forbidden, you can enjoy yourselves within those parameters without wondering if you are doing right or wrong.
So we do not send you out empty handed. We send you out with your own bones of Joseph if you will. We send you with knowledge, with values, with purpose, and with a vision of how you can make a difference. And because you are now hearing your own Lech Lecha, we send you off with a prayer. “May it be thy will, O Lord our G-d and G-d of our fathers and mothers to conduct them in peace, to direct their steps in peace, to uphold them in peace, and to lead them in life, joy and peace unto the haven of their desire. O deliver them from every enemy, ambush and hurt by the way, and from all afflictions that visit and trouble the world. Send a blessing upon the work of their hands. Let them obtain grace, loving kindness and mercy in thine eyes and in the eyes of all who behold them. Hearken to the voice of our supplications; for Thou are a G-d who hearkenest unto prayer and supplication. Blessed are Thou, O Lord, who hearkenest unto prayer.” Amen.
P.S. Mendy, again, thank you for the honor of being called up to dress the Torah. I was having a particularly bad day, and your invitation was the connection I needed. It took me out of my personal Egypt.
April 10, 2010
Parsha Shemini
The parsha this week begins with the dedication of the Mishcan or tabernacle. The directions are explicit, and at one point, fire descends from heaven and consumes the offering. How can anyone not believe and rejoice in G od at this moment. Yet in the very next moment, Aaron’s sons die for bringing “alien” fire. How can anyone not be horrified? At one moment, elation, and seconds later, dismay. What kind of G od is this? This question was not asked by Mendy, but it came to my mind.
Aaron’s sons had no malice in their hearts when they brought their fire. These were devoted, pious men like their father and their uncle, who were participating as best they could. What kind of G od kills for infractions without informing them that their offering is not the proper procedure? How can anyone ever be comfortable with a G od who gives no wiggle room for mistakes? Again, these questions were not asked by Mendy, but someone in the congregation saw some connection between G od’s quick action at this moment, and G od’s lack of involvement in the Holocaust. Where was G od? While Mendy did not address that question, he made it very clear that anyone who blames the Holocaust on the victims for not being pious or righteous enough was mad. I think Mendy also struggles with the question of “Where was G od?” In some way he got around to the idea that being pious was not enough, and that action had to be taken. He urged us again to write letters to our congressmen and to the president about the relationship between the U.S.A. and Israel, and how it had to be kept strong.
This parsha also dealt with those animals that are considered kosher and those that are not. There are reasons to keep these dietary laws, and one new reason dealt with the idea that kosher foods enable the spirit to expand better than non-kosher foods. This I understand to be a purely spiritual phenomena, so I have no idea as to how this works. Personally, I’ve always thought of keeping kosher as a way of curbing one’s appetites and maintaining a degree of self control. I’ve also always seen it as a vehicle for keeping the people together, and as a pathway to personal elevation. In this I mean that eating enables us to live, and by referring to G od expectations regarding food three time a day, I am again reminded of the other commandments intendent upon my behavior. But Mendy focused in on fish, saying that if it has scales and fins, it is permissible. I think he also said that if it only has fins, it would also be considered kosher but not visa versa. The important point being made was that the scales are for protection, and the fins move the fish along. He drew the comparison between fish and people. We, as a people, need to protect ourselves from the intrusion of all that is crass and degenerative that comes at us through the internet, musical lyrics, films, etc. We need scales to do this. But we also need fins to propel us forward, because we may not stand still. We must grow in our humanity
Two weeks ago, Mendy led a stalwart band of congregants into Queens N.Y. to visit the Rebbe’s grave and then into Crown Heights to visit his old stomping grounds. The Rebbe is buried in the Old Montifiore Cemetery on Springfield Boulevard. I had never made a pilgrimage to a rabbi’s grave before, and I was particularly happy to go to this one because my great grand parents and great uncles and aunts are buried there, too but I could not visit them because they were very far from the Rebbe’s memorial. I first encountered the Rebbe through a quote that I committed to memory because it spoke to me at a time of disillusionment. The Rebbe said “Judaism is like a ladder with 613 rungs on it. Do not consider yourself a good or bad Jew based on where you are standing on the ladder, but whether you are ascending or descending.” At that moment, I was standing still on the ladder, and that piece of wisdom gave me permission to take a breath and not feel badly about where I was standing or about my inaction. Ultimately, I’ve been climbing, although from time to time, for the sake of “Shalom Bayit,” my feet have slipped a rung or two.
According to Mendy, this place is the holiest spot for Jews in America because two Rebbes are buried there side by side. Woman are buried separately from their husbands which was a surprise to me.
The first stop is a large hall were people are writing letters to the Rebbe asking for advice or inspiration. These letters are taken to the grave, read, torn, and tossed on this large open area where the Rebbes are buried. It’s very like going to the Wall in Jerusalem, writing your prayer on a piece of paper, and putting it into the wall. I asked for the strength to deal with some personal issues. In fact, the only prayer I ever utter is the one that asks for strength to get through whatever I have to get through. Since I’m still here and reasonably sound in mind and body, I believe that this prayer has always been answered. I hit on this prayer because too many others were denied. After writing, you take the prayer and move to the tomb which must be open to the sky. Prior to entry, prayer books are taken and a candle is lit. Through a door is an open court yard and both graves stand side by side. Petitioners stand behind a wall that forms a large square around the graves. I watched my fellow congregants as they prayed, and again, as when I went to the Wall in Jerusalem, I was painfully aware that I was not feeling what they seemed to be feeling and not focused in the way they were focused. But I can honestly say I was happy for them and for all the others there who fervently believed in what they said, and fervently believed that their petitions would be granted. I envy them and their faith, and while I was born into the same belief system as they, I have not internalized the faith the way they have. But long ago I learned that being a good Jew doesn’t mean that your heart has to be in your actions. It’s the actions that ultimately count and perhaps through the actions one might come to a closer feeling for that which is missing. So I continue to act, and attend, and study, and teach, and support and one day, I may come to believe as these people believe. But one thing I do believe is that Judaism will continue as long as there are such people as these who stood with me at the Rebbe’s grave and as long as there are such men as Mendy who can lead them and the straggling wannabes such as myself.
Afterwards, we got on our limo bus and went to Crown Heights, Brooklyn. This is were Mendy grew up as a child and where he had the honor of knowing the Rebbe. For me, there was some nostalgia, because as a child growing up in the ‘40's, I frequently visited my great grandfather who lived with my great uncle and aunt on Crown Street. Those memories conjured up are those of a family sitting in the living room around a radio on Sunday listening to Gabriel Heater comment on the news of the war, and then a comedy show like Jack Benny or Burns and Allen. As we walked down the streets, Mendy was greeted by a half dozen or more people he knew and they were all as happy to see him as he was to see them. I imagine that within this conclave, growing up was a good experience. We also had the pleasure of visiting the Rebbe’s office on Eastern Parkway and learning more about his life. We also visited the house of study where he taught and I was privileged watched the hundreds of young men in intense debate with one another as they sat opposite one another over a text of Talmud. It was a beautiful thing to see and hear, and I rejoiced in their being and was enormously proud to share the same faith as these young men. It was a wonderful day.
April 24, 2010
Parsha Acharei Mot - Kedoshim
There were two parshahs read this Shabbat: one continued with the excruciating and picayune laws of the Temple sacrifice, and the other dealt with the sublime laws of the Holiness Code that gave Western Civilization many of its values and its right to call itself civilized. I suspect Mendy does not revel in the sacrificial laws, so he spoke about an issue surrounding them in ancient Israel that seems to have caused a rift in how one perceives religion that is echoing down to this day. The issue dealt with where a certain offering of incense should be made. The traditionalists felt it should be offered within the sanctuary, and those opposing felt it was to be offered where it might be seen by all. Mendy extended this conflict to those people who look outside of traditional observance and create new traditions to keep up with the trends. These people look without. Mendy takes the traditionalist’s position and urges us to look within or to what has always been as the true path. At least, I think this is what he was saying. But I don’t think it is as simple as all that. For example, traditionalists forbid riding in a car on the Sabbath. Yet if I or many others in Mendy’s congregation only looked to tradition, we would not be able to attend services. I do not think our absence because we could not ride would be of benefit to anyone. I think the congregation and Judaism are better served with our attendance despite the tradition. And so, with a wafture of his hand, Mendy also dismissed the Conservative, the Reform, the Reconstructionist, and the Renewal Movements in Judaism as well as perhaps a dozen or so rabbis, Jewish philosophers, and even secularists who looked at the world and did conclude that some religious traditions needed to be adapted to the technological and industrialized world in which we live. I’m not willing to summarily dismiss anything that is not Orthodoxy. Certainly Orthodoxy does have its place, and the other divisions of Judaism have an authenticity of their own. I think the world is a better place because they, too, exist. I won’t go into detail, but I will only say that Israel could not exist without the support of the non-Orthodox.
I listened attentively, and since I have no particular "truth" that must be defended, I was not put off by Mendy's parochialism.
The second parshah read dealt with Levitical laws that, for the first time in recorded history, teach and demand decent behavior in dealing with one another. Laws such as “You shall not stand idly by upon the blood of your neighbor” is the first law to legislate assisting someone in danger. “You shall have a just weight and a just measure” legislates honesty in business. And there are dozens of others. But Mendy chose the “golden rule” to comment on: “Love thy neighbor as thy self,” or as Hillel put it, “That which is hateful to you, do not do to another.” Mendy asked if there was anyone in the congregation who “loved his neighbor?” and I foolishly raised my hand. More about that later.
First, I have to tell you that Judaism is a faith that does not set you up to fail. It says “love you neighbor,” not “love everybody,” and it doesn’t ask that because it recognized that it is impossible to love everybody because there are some disgusting human beings out there. So loving your neighbor becomes something manageable, especially if your neighbor is a real putz. It’s difficult loving such a person, but the Torah demands that you do it. In this interpretation, loving is not a broad concept where you can conceptually love everyone and never really have to love anyone in reality. The Torah demands that you love in reality, even the putz neighbor for the sake of harmony in the community. So you can see that my interpretation of “loving one’s neighbor” is different from Mendy’s. It’s complex. For me it means not showing your animosity if you have any, or treating your neighbor rudely even if he or she deserves it. Sometimes that’s not easy to do as it is not easy to “love.” But The Ethics of the Fathers wisely supports this attitude by mandating that we greet everyone cheerfully, and we let every man's honor be as dear to us as our own." We don’t have to love them. While the Torah mandates that we love, we must interpret love as, along with other things, treating another with respect or being honest in our dealings with them.
I was the only one in the congregation who foolishly raised his hand when asked if anyone loved his neighbor, but when others think about loving, they may be thinking things different from what I’m thinking. Mendy asked a general question about loving the “black hat” kids visiting, and as I looked at them, I could honestly say that I did have a great affection for them; perhaps love. I do believe that we are one great family, and they are part of mine. This Kal Yisroel concept has sustained us through the centuries, and while it is not exactly “love” it is definitely a strong affection for strangers simply because they share your faith, your history, your value system, and your dreams of what the world might be. There are different kinds of love. For example, David described his love for Jonathan as a love that surpasses the love a man has for a woman. This was a “platonic love,” a love between friends. I have felt this love for certain friends and for certain students. There is the love a man has for his spouse which is a romantic and sexual love which is again different from the love he has for his children which is based on nurturing, protecting and ego. I’ll give one last example. Mendy, like myself, is an “acquired taste,” and in the years that I have had the pleasure of listing to him and learning from him, I have developed a deep affection for him which is platonic and yet, because I am old enough to be his father, is also nurturing, protective, and respectful. I can say in all honesty that where he is concerned, I do “love my neighbor.” The word “love” in Leviticus must be open to interpretation.
I agree with Mendy that “loving everyone” is a difficult thing to do, but I don’t see the commandment as asking us to do that. And beyond this, just to get psychological, the word “love” must be interpreted because there are self-hating people out there who are very destructive, and to “love your neighbor as yourself” if you are one of those self- haters, can lead to serious consequences. If you do not see yourself as loving or lovable, it’s hard to see others in that way.
May 1, 2010
Parsha Emor
Mendy began by talking about counting the omer which I think may be shafts of wheat. It is counted daily between Passover (when we left Egypt,) and Shavuot (when we received the Ten Commandments and the Torah.) Why this is counted, I haven’t a clue, but the Torah mandates it be counted for seven weeks. It also specifies 49 days which is also seven weeks. So why doe the Torah make the distinction? It seems redundant. But the clarification made sense. The interpretation relates to how we see people and groups. Seven weeks is a broad overview that would be similar to a view of all the people, and the 49 days is to remind us that the seven weeks are made up of individuals who must be respected for who they are. Mendy expanded on this by referencing the discussion we had last week about loving your neighbor. He also spoke about another holiday called Lag Bomer where the deaths of many thousands of Rabbi Akiva’s students are remembered. It seems that Akiva’s primary mandate to his students was that they were to love one another, and the legend holds that a plague broke out among them because they were contemptuous and disrespectful of one another. So loving was again the topic, and Mendy reinforced the idea that you can love someone and yet not like them. Certainly, there were plenty of examples, especially when it came to family. Someone in the congregation suggested that love is an emotion and liking is a rational decision. We love our families because they are ours despite the fact that they have behaviors and qualities we do not like. But friends are people we choose because of certain qualities, and friends become dearer than family on certain levels. I would sooner be with my friends than be with certain members of my family.
Mendy also spoke about the tradition of shooting arrows at this holiday, because the bow and perhaps the arch of the arrow in the air reminds us the rainbow in the sky. I think the connection was to the holiday when the students died of a heaven sent plague. Perhaps the tradition is also a reminder to G od that He promised never to destroy mankind again, and the death of so many students seemed to indicate that He might have forgotten.
Sometime during his desultory comments, Mendy bemoaned the fact that we are losing our traditions or “yiddishkeit” and just how quickly this can happen. This reminded me of the bread story in my family. When I was a child, there was always bread for each meal on my mother’s table. Whether the bread was eaten or not, it was there. I also recall that there was always bread on my bubba’s table, but I also remember that no body ate until my zeydeh took a piece of bread, mumbled something I couldn’t hear, and ate it. Years later I recognized that my zeydeh was making a blessing over the bread, but what got translated to my home was the bread missing the blessing. So in one generation, the connection to thanking G od for the bread was lost but the symbol remained with out explanation. And that’s how G od and observance slipped away for this second generation American.
May 8, 2010
Parsha Behar-Bechukotai
This past Shabbat, Mendy started teaching again from The Ethics of the Fathers or the Pirkei Avos. It’s a small section of Talmud that recorded for posterity special comments made by the rabbis of the period. I like this book because it establishes almost a personal relationship between the reader and those wise men who lived centuries ago. They speak a timeless wisdom, and the sage suggestions for human behavior comes more in the form of a personal conversation with a mentor than commandments from an all powerful deity. I’m glad that that time for teaching from this book is back.
Mendy began with chapter 5, verse 19 where the rabbi said that “An love that depends on a specific cause, when that cause is gone, the love is gone; but if it does not depend on a specific cause, it will never cease.” Also, “Any dispute that is for the sake of Heaven will have a constructive out come; but one that is not for the sake of Heaven will not have a constructive outcome.” The wisdom is clear. If that which is superficial is the foundation of a romantic relationship, when time takes its toll and that aspect of the person is gone, the love may also go. For a relationship to last, there must be something deeper and lasting, something with permanence such as a particular quality that attracts that will always remain. Those inner qualities that sustain a relationship are those that one can call upon when there is stress in the relationship. While not specifically linked to relationships, the second quote dealing with “arguments for the sake of heaven,” might also teach something to a couple. If “heaven” can substitute for “marriage,” than any argument between a man and wife that is ultimately for the sake of the marriage will have a constructive outcome, but one that is based on ego and self-centeredness will not have a constructive outcome. Ancient wisdom is timeless.
The Torah portion section that Mendy chose to highlight was really interesting even though initially it seemed strange because it dealt with the actual monetary worth of people. It was not a sale price but an offering price. The Torah, especially in Leviticus, speaks of making sacrifices and offerings. So if a person chose to make an offering of his own worth, that price was set. I found setting a dollar amount on a human being a little off putting, but the interpretation that Mendy gave was really unique. Sometimes life is difficult and unfair. Such moments causes us to feel anguish, feel depressed, and to doubt our self-worth. Well, Mendy told us that whenever we are in such a place, (what we might think of as our personal Egypt,) we are always to remember that the Torah lets us know that we do have value. I think there may be a missing step that I don’t recall where we are to leap over the monetary price put on us and go to our spiritual value. I guess it is something of a comfort knowing that at my most depressed and worthless moments, I am still worth at lest several silver schekles.
May 15, 2010
Parsha Bamidbar
Mendy opened his talk with Chapter 6, verse 9 of the Ethics of the Fathers where we are told of an encounter between two men. One man is a Rabbi who comes from a devoutly religious and observant place of Torah, and the other man is rich and powerful. This man offers the Rabbi fantastic wealth if he will come and live in his town, but the Rabbi refuses saying that no amount of money could entice him away from his supportive, emotionally safe, and observant community. I personally think the Rabbi should have gone because he might have taken the opportunity to bring Torah to those people who may have been floundering. After all, that the philosophy of Chabad, and that’s what Mendy did. Mendy made mention of his own odyssey, his options of going to Jerusalem, Ukraine, or Cherry Hill. He rejected the Jerusalem appointment because it was a paid position, and he felt that if he were being paid, he would not work as hard. I have a feeling that he imagined that by taking that position, he thought he might be “bringing coals to Newcastle.” So Mendy, without any seed money or any financial backing from Chabad, came down here to bring Torah and “yiddishkeit” to people who may or may not have known that they were yearning for spirituality and a particular way of life. Certainly, I am glad he made that decision. While I am grateful that I’ve been with M’kor Shalom for 26 years, I am grateful for finding Chabad and Mendy. He praised the congregation for becoming his family away from Brooklyn, and he expressed his delight in how members of his congregation were also friends with one another outside of the building. While Mendy praises the kind, supportive, and generous people of the community he created, I believe he is also to be praised for his menchlichkeit. And beyond his ethos, I praise him for his incisive mind, his brilliance as a teacher and speaker, and his easy going and good sense of humor. I imagine he is wonderful friend to those to whom he has personally opened up his heart.
Today we started the Book of Numbers. You recall that Leviticus tediously listed techniques to be used in sacrifices, where Numbers tediously gives you lists of people. So you have to look beyond just the lists for wisdom. This book also lays out the logistics of where each of the tribes is to set up its tents, and all is in relationship to the Tabernacle. One important point that Mendy made had to do with neighbors. Good neighbors are a good influence, and bad neighbors are a bad influence. Cited were the tribes of Issacar, Zebulin, and Korah. The tribe of Issacar were scholars, and the tribe of Zebulin were business men. The lived side by side. Zebulin supported Issacar and both reaped the benefits of each other’s contribution. Korah led the rebellion against Moses, and his neighbors followed him and were also destroyed. Robert Frost, the great American poet, wrote in Mending Wall that “Good fences make good neighbors.” I disagree because if you are good, and he is not and there is a wall between you, how will you ever influence him? That’s the message of the Torah.
I was thinking about the friends I am blessed with and how we are all decent, and supportive people who look for opportunities to be with one another. I also thought about the influence of friends on children, and how a child involved with bad friends can influence a normally good child’s behavior. Parents have to be very careful about who their own children’s friends are. (But I digress.) I couldn’t help but wonder about the lives and personalities of all those people who were counted, and I fantasized about from which tribe I might be descended. I know there is a direct line that I am on that stretches back to the Exodus. Perhaps I am in the line of Issacar because I had the potential to be somewhat scholarly, but I also like the idea of being descended from Asher because I do like “to feast on dainties.” But then again, I might be descended from Judah because my bubba treated me like I was the Messiah, and my mother expected me to be him. According to tradition, all these questions will be answered when the real Messiah comes. I hope I’ve done what I was supposed to do. (But I digress.)
I think the purpose of counting each person and recording the name of each person not only says that they existed, but makes that existence special. Last week’s reading where we learned of the monetary value of each person’s individual worth, introduced the concept of an individual’s worth to civilization. The census reinforces this concept. Everyone was counted that means everyone was important. No one person because of yichas (pedigree), counted more than that person who had no pedigree. It was a kind of leveler for the society. It’s like going into a steam room. Men sit there wrapped in towels, and you don’t know who is wealthy and who is poor. Even in the tedium of recounting the names in the census there is some piece of wisdom. I’m starting to see the hidden wisdom locked within the Torah thanks to Mendy. Mendy shared with us that this Sabbath was his birthday. He’s forty-two. It’s hard to believe that I have children older than he. But age does not matter. Mendy carries wisdom; the wisdom of our ancestors. He has devoted his life to studying this wisdom and is here to share it with me and with others. For this, blessing should be showered upon him and his family. He is a blessing in my life, and I wish him good health and a good life for one hundred and twenty years. Happy Birthday, Mendy!
May 22, 2010
Parsha Nasso
Shavuot is one of the three pilgrimage holidays mandated in the Torah. While it is a harvest festival, it also commemorates the giving of the Torah and the moral law embodied in the Ten Commandments which are read in synagogues around the world. Tradition teaches that prior to the giving of the Torah, the Torah existed and portions of it were known by the patriarchs and matriarchs. But these laws, as tradition says, were only on loan to us. It was a Mt. Sinai, that the full Torah was given to us with the expectation that we would take this guide book and live according to its mandates. Of course, once something becomes yours, you may do with it as you like, and that means interpreting what these laws mean and how they might be implemented. Jewish people though out time have given themselves permission to interpret, and in many instances have formed different divisions. So understanding that this book is ours to interpret, we have created the Orthodox, the Reform, the Conservative, the Reconstructionist, and the Renewal movements in Judaism. Those who created these movements did this with the implicit understanding that this Torah was theirs, and their pathway through this Torah to G od was a valid one. Personally, I do not think one division is more authentic than another. Each group seeks a pathway and a relationship with G od as well as a means of creating decent relationships with other human beings. Yet there remains within the basic tenants of Judaism despite these man made divisions, a concept called Kal Yisroel which states that the Jewish people are all one unit. While Judaism stresses over and over again the importance of the individual, it also states that we are a collective. We pray as a group, not as an individual. We pray in groups, not alone. We are asked to be part of a community and not to separated ourselves from this community. To further impress this on us, we are told that our mourning period is seven days in which the community must gather around the bereaved person with comfort and sustenance. But here is the paradox. If a person dies right before a holiday, the morning process is suspended, and the mourners must enter the holiday in a joyful mood with the rest of the community. It seem to be a contradiction, but the rabbis teach that while the individual is important, the needs of the community take precedent over the needs of the bereaved. The needs of the many superceede the needs of the few or the needs of one.
[A slight digression: Spock said that in Star Trek. It is also noted that Mr. Spock used the hand symbol of the priestly benediction as the Vulcan greeting, and the planets were all members of The Federation. You think that was all coincidence? I think Mr. Spock was Jewish.]
This type of community support of the bereaved is evident at Congregation M’kor Shalom where the entire congregations stands with the mourners when the say the Kaddish. Oddly, no one is invited at Chabad to stand to support the bereaved. The absence of this type of support at such a supportive community as Chabad seems confusing and begs a question. But I digress and back to Shavuot. One tradition of Shavuot is to study through out the night. Mendy invited the congregation to do this and they did till four in the morning, but I chose not to involve myself in this mitzvah at least for this year. But wanting to experience the tradition of study, I decided to attend the study session at Congregation M’kor Shalom which was light on the time set aside for this tradition, but still meaningful. Cantor Hockman was there with her guitar along with the Rabbi Schwartz and Rabbi Frankle. We sat in a circle in the chapel, and focused on six lines from the Ethics of the Fathers, a section of the Talumud that recorded rabbinic wisdom. First, cantor Hockman led us in singing the songs that were composed for each of the following teachings, and the rabbis expounded on the wisdom of the teachings. The teachings are: 1.- “The world stand on three things: On Torah, on worship, and on acts of loving kindness.” 2.- Get yourself a teacher; acquire a friend to study with you, and let your house be a meeting place for the wise.” 3.- In a place where there are no men, strive to be a man.” 4.- It is not your duty to complete the work, but neither are you freed to desist from it. 5.- “Who is wise? Those who learn from all people. Who are strong? Those who control their impulses. Who is rich? Those who are happy with what they have.” 6.- One performed mitzvah leads to another. One sin leads to another. To be righteous is very good.”
All this is very good advice on how to live a decent life with good relationships, and I enjoy the Ethics of the Fathers because it is an intimate and accessible book. The rabbis alternated in their comments on each, but there was no invitation to discuss each, though we were invited to participate in guided meditation. For example, for number two, we were asked to picture in our minds a person who taught us and guided us at some point in our lives. This was followed by a series of statements that took us further and further into our relationship with that person. I found this difficult because some of the questions were framed in such a way that to me it seemed we were being asked to conjure up an idealized person, and every one of the people who entered my mind was dismissed because they were in some way flawed. So I kept changing people looking for someone without flaws, and realized that prior to this exercise, we should have been given permission to think about people who were not perfect mainly because no one is or has ever been. During one of the commentaries, one rabbi spoke about our good and our evil inclination, and how they war within us. After the session, I reminded the rabbi that in another place in the Talumud it says “That without the evil inclination, a man would never build a house or have a child.” It seems to me that this was contradictory, but we know that the Talmud is a record of different opinions and perceptions. My thoughts on this is that the evil inclination is really referring to the human ego. To have a child is to project your genes into the future. That is egotistical. To build a home to house your stuff is also egotistical. It says “Look at my home and look at my stuff and look at me.” Our stuff is a reflection of ourselves. Very egotistical. And there is absolutely nothing wrong with this. There would be no improvements in the world without the ego which is a great motivator. But when a person’s ego becomes so overblown that it becomes detrimental to others, it is then we can call it the evil inclination.
The following day, I went to Chabad to hear the Torah portion where the Ten Commandment are read. It is a very dramatic reading, and Mendy asked us each to close our eyes and imagine that we were actually there. There is a wonderful midrash that all Jewish souls that lived then and were to be born were actually at Mt. Sinai when the Revelation took place. (This midrash is supported today by an on line Jewish dating service called “seenyouatsinai.com). Judaism is the only faith were the revelation was given not to one single person as it was with Islam’s Mohamad, or with the Mormon’s Joseph Smith, or with Christianity’s Saints Peter and later, John. In Judaism, it was given to all the people at once. We are taught that we were present either in body or in spirit and saw the mountain, the fire, and the lightening. We heard the thunder, and felt the wind. We experienced directly the presence of G od. Mendy spoke of the three holidays were everyone was commanded to go up to the Temple in Jerusalem to make his or her offering. These were Succoth, Passover, and Shavuot. To commemorate Succoth, we are asked to build a little hut and eat in it, and to commemorate the Passover, we are asked to have a festive meal and explain the symbols. But for Shavuot, the great holiday when we receive the Torah and the moral law, there are no symbols and no home service to observe. Last year, Mendy taught that there are no symbols because they are a distraction from what is really important in this holiday which is to focus on one another. (I bet he’d be surprised to know that one of his congregants actually remembered what he said a year ago.) As I looked around, I again understood what he meant by focusing on others. So I focused on the people around me, and this is what I saw. Each Shabbat at Chabad there are at least four or five little kids running around and several infants and toddlers being held by their dads. Sometimes, I cannot help but watch them and smile as they run through or play with the curtains, or slide a toy along the carpet. They seem so comfortable with the sights and sounds of the service, and as they grow up, these sights and sounds will be as normal to them as will be their breathing. And whenever there is a major holiday, Mendy’s or Denie’s family come to visit, and that raises the number of children running around to maybe ten. They are all adorable and I delight in the way they way they climb on their bearded fathers or climb onto the readers platform to get a closer look at what’s going on. [I have no recollection of going to shul with my father because he did not go, but I do recall as a small child standing under my zeydeh’s tallis, holding on to his leg and playing with the fringes. The tallis I wear now was his, and in this way he is always close to me.] So I delight in the sight of men with children on their laps, or under their tallis’ for a blessing. Mendy’s father-in-law, a slight man with a beautiful long white beard, had the pleasure of listening to two of his grand sons chant the priestly blessings. Mendy’s eldest son, Lazer, led the group of Kohannim and his cousin, Berl, who couldn’t have been more than five, chanted from under his dad’s prayer shawl with his high pitched full voice that filled the sanctuary with his total enthusiasm and his total soul. I couldn’t help laugh out loud at this marvelous little boy, and I couldn’t help but imagine the sage with the long white beard just filled with the joy and pride one has knowing that something that he values greatly will be carried on by these grandsons and others. As I focus on what was going on around me, I enter into a silent relationships with these people, and I smile that they and I are part of this great family that stretches back 3500 years. I don’t recall if it were Mendy or Rabbi Schwartz who spoke about the line from the Ethics of the Fathers that related: “Who is happy? He who rejoices in his own portion.” Though Mendy didn’t say anything specific about any on of the Ten Commandments chanted, I connected this saying with the last commandment which states: “You Shall Not Covet.” This particular commandment should have a strong focus because to my mind, stealing, murder, and adultery may all be the result of coveting. When you covet your neighbor’s wife as King David did, you are led to commit adultery. And poor Uriah, upon David’s orders was put into a place that guaranteed he would be killed. So coveting also led to murder. Somewhere I recall a story about another King, possibly Ahab, who coveted someone’s vineyard and that property owner was murdered for his land. People who think they are more entitled than others because of position or wealth, along with everyone else are all people who have to be warned about coveting. I do not recall the connection, but Mendy told a story about a Russian soldier billeted in the home of an old Jewish couple on Shavuot. It turned out that he had been abducted as a child and raised in the army. During the dinner and the ritual, this entitled persons suddenly began to recall distant memories and he rediscovered that he was born a Jew. Such a story exist in my own family. My maternal great grandfather, Berl Wexler, was taken as a child and impressed into the Russian army for twenty-five years. From the few stories I’ve heard, he was not a happy or kind man. Chapter 4 of my first novel, Consider My Servant, describes his ordeal in detail. This Shabbat, Mendy used a quote that went something like this: “The best way to not to be good is to strive to be perfect.” I don’t think I’m quoting correctly, but the essence of his comments following it was that when you strive for perfection, you are so focused on your goal, you may not see what is needed by those around you, so you do nothing that is good for them. Happily, I shall never have that problem, since long ago I learned that no one could be perfect, and I am sustained in this belief because even those revered men and women who peopled the Bible, the Prophets, and the Talmud were not. Perfection was never an issue for me.
May 30, 2010
Parsha Beha’alotcha
Mendy introduced his talk by reminding us that among us and among our people, there are some who overtly demonstrate their devotion to ritual and to charity, and then go out into the world and steal from others. For me, this inconsistency or better, overt hypocrisy, demonstrates that those who pray at one moment and steal the next, have not really incorporated into their core beings the true meaning of the Torah, namely, that the wisdom found in the Torah should act as a consistent guide to one’s behavior. There are commandments that sanctify the relationship between man and G od, and commandments that sanctify the relationship between people. While this person may believe that his or her ritualistic purity pleases G od, they obviously do not see that their relationships with others disappoints the very same G od they spend time trying to please. This disconnect between being a decent human being and observance is a tragic mistake. Such people seem not to care that they are breaking the “don’t steal” commandment as well as the one that forbids us to take G od’s name in vain. What I mean is this: People who wrap themselves in a tallis, pray three times a day, and then go out and prey on the citizenry either by theft, adultery, coveting, or murder are giving G od a bad name. Observant Jews are seen by all, and come to be the overt face of Judaism. Such people are obligated to behave well, because by their dress and actions they are saying “Look at me. I’m a Jew.” When such people behave despicably, they provide our distractors with ammunition to be used against us. Such a person brings shame and betrayal to Kal Yisroel. Personally, I would rather live next door to a righteous Jew who is not particularly observant, then next to a seemingly devout Jew who has missed the point of his faith.
Mendy tied his introductory remarks into the parsha of the Torah we were about to read by making reference to three items that were to be housed in the Tabernacle. G od specifically mandates how these three items are to be made, and these were the seven branched gold menorah, the silver trumpets, and the golden male and female cherubim that were to be placed on top of the holy Ark of the Covenant. The one mandate for all these disparate items is that each was to be carved from its own single block of metal. After some back and forth, Mendy let us know that the commonality was because they had to symbolize consistency. Thus, in these items there would be no seams and no attachments. Each would be a smooth whole.
Now you may have heard the expression “Consistency is the hobgoblins of little minds,” but the interpretation of the word in the Torah implies a kind of unity, and the fact that these items made of one solid piece of metal was a to be a constant reminder that unity must exist among the people. Mendy gave the example when referring to the cherubim by relating them to children in a home. He said that for children to grow, there needed to be consistency between the parents. The child could not go to one and get an answer that would be different from the other parent. Parents in a divorce situation must never use their power over the children to get over on the spouse. Consistency lets children know the parameters. People were to learn from the solidness of the cherubim that they were to be unified and consistent in their adherence to G od’s laws and raising their children in those laws.
The menorah, the seven branch candle holder, was to symbolize the light of G od and also to remind the people that they would be “a light unto the nations. They reminded us that though a unified people, there would be a continuum of opinions; some to the left and some to the right. That has certainly proven true over the centuries. There is a midrash that tells us that each of the candles on each side burned pointing towards the center flame which is to teach us that though there are differences among us, we are to look to the One Unity that will ground us despite our disputes. Visually, we are to see the unity.
The silver trumpets were to summon the people to gather in joy as a unified entity. As I listened, I could not help but think that the concept of consistency was incomplete. I say this because a person can consistently be a nasty individual. I also thought of Einstein’s definition of insanity: “Doing the same thing over and over again and expecting a different result.” Being consistent is doing the same thing over and over again so it is not always beneficial. So in being consistent in ones actions, must combined actions with integrity. Now the word “integrity” might very well apply to the quality and strength of the metal that was used in the creation of these three items, but as it applies to people, integrity has to do with being honest when dishonesty is beneficial, doing what is right when other choices are more tempting, and valuing the good more than valuing one’s own desires.
June 20, 2010
Parsha Chukat
Mendy started off by saying that he has encountered people who have challenged him as to how he can justify counseling people and their relationship issues when he has no letter credentials after his name. But what he did say is that what he has is knowledge of Torah, and all that is needed for good relationships between and among people can be found there in addition to the laws that govern morality and daily living. He was going to prove his point by talking about the process of establishing good relationships and forgiveness among people through Torah interpretation.
Oddly enough, he did not use the many incidents that could have been a spring board into the topic such as the Abraham, Sarah, Abimelech incident in Genesis, but he used the incident in the desert with the brazen or copper serpent Moses was told to create by G od in order to heal those who had rebelled by once again complaining that Moses had brought them out of Egypt to die in the desert from lack of water and food.
So G od, easily annoyed as He often is, sends, as a punishment, biting serpents and the people once again beg Moses to intercede on their behaves. The underlying theme here that Mendy spoke about had to do with forgiveness. Both G od and Moses have to forgive these stiff necked and complaining people who still have no faith even though the time frame indicates that by this time, the generation that came out of Egypt had passed on.
G od, easy to anger, is also easy to appease, but it is Moses who must learn and teach what true forgiveness is. And that involves investing one’s self and one’s property into healing the relationship. The interpretation is that the copper serpent must be crafted by Moses himself with resources that Moses himself must supply and he does this immediately. Perhaps, like some of us, we might say “Let them suffer just a little more. They deserve it.” But Moses doesn’t say this, and we are not to say this either when we are asked for forgiveness. The message is that we must act and forgive immediately, and it must be sincere. To be sincere, we must invest ourselves and our resources in the forgiving process. Moses symbolically invests himself in the forgiveness process by using his resources and creativity. So by extension, when we are asked to forgive, we must not hesitate, and we must pursue forgiveness as we must pursue justice. Of course, we cannot forgive those who have injured others. Such people must go to the injured and deal with them. Proxy forgiveness such as the absolution of sin by a religious official, is alien to Judaism. Only those who have been injured can forgive the one who has injured them. There is no third party intercession. And there is a process in Judaism relating to asking for forgiveness that demands that the heart not be hardened.
Mendy turned his comment to specifics, and uttered one statement that really resonated with me because it was a statement made to me many years ago by my first wife. She said, and I quote: “I can forgive you, but I can never forget.” I do think that that was one of the crueler things she ever said in a long list of cruelties, and I also think now that it was that statement that made me realize that our marriage could not be saved. In fact, in my second novel, I put that statement into the mouth of my protagonist’s wife, and have him respond in a way that I should have responded and didn’t in real life.
Mendy specifically said that such a statement is a very un-Jewish statement because it is not forgiveness at all but just a dropping of the subject. He also said that such “forgiveness” is never real because the event that cause the statement is brought up over and over again in arguments. It is never forgotten, and therefore there is no forgiveness. Mendy has probably never heard of the concept of “stamp collecting” as it applies to psychological interactions, but bringing up past issues over and over again because they have never really been laid to rest is called “stamp collecting,” and is a term that comes out of Transactional Analysis, a therapeutic model used in understanding transactions in relationships. It works like the old Green Stamps or King Korn Stamps people use to collect in order redeem them for prizes. When you have collected enough stamps, you redeem them in for a gift. Emotional stamps can work the same way. You generate feelings, you store them and if they are good feelings, you redeem them for something that is a treat because you deserve something good. If they are anger stamps, you redeen them on a fight that you perceive is well deserved for all you’ve had to take. If they are depression stamps, you redeem them for a well deserved depression. But the difference with psychological stamps and “green” stamps is that once you redeem these stamps for your gift, you can never use these stamps again. But with psychological stamps, you can use them over and over again, and the more you use them, the more justified you feel for your feelings. A person who “can’t forget” is a person who is a psychological stamp collector and will always feel justified when redeeming his or her stamps.
Forgiveness in Judaism precludes the redemption of negative stamps. If you truly forgive, you must not bring the issue up again unless you are reminding the person that his or her behavior was once forgiven and should not be acted on again. Which brings us to another side of this story.
If you are a person who has done wrong and injured someone, part of your growth as a human being in a relationship is never to choose to perform in such a way that the offending action or statement is made again. That awareness and monitoring of your words and behavior becomes your responsibility if you don’t want a repeat of the problem. If something you said or did was injurious to a relationship, you need to choose not to repeat that again in other circumstances or at another time. If you continue to do so, you must recognize that you have a problem because you are recreating for yourself and the other person a similar situation which will garner a negative reaction. The Torah and commentators such as Rashi, and Rabbis such as Mendy teach such things.
June 27, 2010
Parsha Balak
The parsha this week was about Balik hiring Baalam to curse the Jewish people. Balik knew the Jewish people were under the protection of G od, so a military victory was out of the question. So he employed Baalam, a know spiritualist and alleged sorcerer, to defeat the Hebrews with a curse. But Baalam says that he can only utter what G od tells him to say.
It would seem that Baalam understands that there is a single G od, and this is same G od that the the Jews worship. But as a spiritualist, it seems that Baalam is also in tuned with the negative aspects of the “G od field,” the realm of spiritual energy. His involvement with negative energy is what makes him suspect in Rabbinic literature, and he is condemned for being too eager to curse the people despite his statement that he will say only what G od tells him to say.
At this point in the narrative, there is the story of the talking donkey who sees the angel that Baalam cannot see because of his personal blindness to righteous behavior. Even a supposedly dumb animal can see more than Baalam can see. So the donkey speaks logically to Balaam and Balaam is outraged. At this juncture, Mendy mentioned that there were four levels to creation. The first level was that of the inanimate– rocks, earth, the non-living things. The second level of creation was the trees and plants that live off the earth. The third were the non-sentient animals that lived off of the level of creation beneath them, and the fourth level was the sentient beings who live off the levels below them. I expected Mendy to speak about a fifth level of creation– the level of what we would call miracles such as the mouth of the donkey, the mouth of the earth that swallowed Korah, the well that followed our ancestors in the desert, etc. These were created at the dawn of creation so they would appear as natural events and not miraculous. Perhaps Mendy raised the issue of the four with the intention of mentioning the fifth and just forgot. Otherwise, mentioning the four was irrelevant to the story. Another interesting fact here is that the donkey is stopped by “ha satan” an angelic being whose job is it to stand in the way of people achieving their objectives, especially if the objective is not worthy. This “concept” now represented by an angel, evolves into a proper noun and takes on the form of the accuser as he is in the book of Job. Now he is Satan with a capital “S.” In Judaism, this angelic being is never in contention with G od. As time goes by, this Satan continues to morph into a heavenly being who causes strife among men and who ultimately becomes the Devil of Christianity. The story of Satan is fleshed out in detail in John Milton’s Paradise Lost. Dante’s Inferno advances the imagery of the fallen angel and his minions who are now in contention for the souls of human beings. Satan is depicted in art as a horned and cloven footed creature who is red. Such a depiction is based on the red color of the Egyptian god of the underworld, the Greek god Pan who had goat horns and a cloven hoof, and the horned god of northern Europe who was the god of the religion that existed prior to the advent of Christianity. Satan, in the hands of Christianity, becomes a composite of all the pagan deities Christianity had to confront and conquer.
I apologize for the digression. Now back to the story. Ultimately, Balaam blesses the people with one of the most famous blessings in our liturgy that begins with “How goodly are thy tents of Jacob, thy dwelling places of Israel.” It’s called the ma tovu and opens our prayer service. Mendy said that the Rabbis wrote that the people were deemed worthy of blessing because the tents were set up so the tent openings did not face one another. In this way, one could not see what was going on in another tent. Respect for privacy was given and it seems that that was worthy of blessings. But while privacy was sacrosanct, and whatever was happening was consensual and within the parameters of that which was acceptable, becoming aware of abuse that was going on with a neighbor and not saying anything to rectify it, was a sin. The laws such as “You shall surely rebuke your neighbor, so as not to incur his sin,”and “You shall not stand idly by upon the blood of your neighbor,” are just two of the laws attesting to the fact that being aware of injustice, pain, and abuse carries with it obligations to act.
Since Baalam’s involvement was in the realm of the spiritual because the Hebrews could not be defeated physically, Mendy thought it important to talk about spirituality. The difference he said between spirituality and Godliness is that spirituality connects one with the energies of the universe that are both good and bad, while Godliness is an involvement with positive action and a betterment of the individual condition and of society. One need not be spiritual to be G odly. Mendy seemed to disparage the “spiritual” person if spirituality was all his or her involvement in life. Of what use is the connection with the energy of the universe if you involve yourself with the negative forces? Currently, I am meeting with a group exploring a “spiritual process,” and while I can see it’s value regarding assisting people to create a “sacred space” for themselves, and connecting with the “G od field,” it is a an experience that does not move the world in a positive direction nor make it a better place. I think that if one can connect with the G od field and as a result see what needs to be done to better the world and act on that need, the process is of value. Spirituality is not action, and it’s all about action.
Mendy also shared his response to a memo that came out of the Jewish Community Relations Council now directed by a former student of mine. The memo called for Jewish people to hang out yellow balloons to mark the fourth year of captivity for Gelad Shalit, a young Israeli soldier captured by Hamas and held with out the benefit of the Red Cross or his parents being allowed to visit. Even Iran has allowed the parents of the young people held there to visit, but Shalit gets no such privilege, and no one seems to care. Mendy said that hanging out balloons was only a way for those who did it to feel good and give themselves a sense of well being for having done something when in reality, the act accomplishes absolutely nothing. I fully agree with him. When the murderers took down the Twin Towers, I bought a flag and rode around with it on my car. I flew another from my porch. I felt better because I felt I was doing something to support my country. In reality, it accomplished nothing. A yellow balloon would accomplish the same nothing.
I do believe that we must continue to pressure our government to demand the release of Shalit as a condition for continued support for the Arab Palestinians. To that end, letters will be written. That’s the very least of what I as an individual can do.
Mendy, briefly, also berated PETA for having been instrumental in closing the kosher meat packing plant in the mid-west and disrupting the lives of the workers and the American Jewish community that heavily relies on the kosher products produced there. Now I have to say that PETA is not one of my favorite organizations, but I also have to say that after reading about the situation, PETA was not the real issue. The real issue was that the owner, an Orthodox Jew, was given a prison sentence that was very long when compared with other people who had also defrauded banks so as to line their own pockets. Now I am of the opinion that the plant and owners would never have come under the scrutiny of PETA nor the U.S, Government had they not broken any number of banking laws, safety rules, health rules, violated worker’s right, immigration laws, etc. At the root of this rests the owner’s greed, the alleged unrighteous treatment of workers, and their unwillingness to comply with state and federal laws. I am in full agreement with the Orthodox community that the sentence of 27 years is entirely too long. It is as out of line as was the life sentence meted out to Jonathan Pollack. That said, I could not help but think if the Orthodox community was vociferously defending one of its own because ethnicity to them is more important than justice. Whatever disruption to the lives of the people who depended upon that plant occurred, it occurred because of personal greed on the part of its owner. The sentence should definitely be appealed, and the man deserves jail time
.July 3, 2010
Parsha Pinchas
Mendy’s brother-in-law, a Chabad Rabbi in northern N.J. took the bima to deliver the commentary. He is a very articulate and personable man, with an air of nobility about him.
He initially began by confessing that the portion read today, a portion that deals with the second census and the sacrifices to be brought for each holiday were not particularly engaging, but he pointed to one small aspect which dealt with the sacrifices intendent upon the new moon. It would seem that the translation in English speaks about bringing the sacrifice to G od, but that the Torah uses the word that implies that the sacrifice is brought for G od. It would seem that the Rabbis interpreted this in a way to imply that G od recognizes that He created an imperfect world where there is suffering. This suffering is the result of the inviolate free will we’ve been granted, and the result of people making evil choices that cause pain. We recognize that we, too, are not always righteous and that we, too, cause suffering to other. So the new moon sacrifice is an atonement for G od’s regret as having created an imperfect world, and this same new moon sacrifice is also a statement of our regrets to Him for our complicity in keeping the world imperfect. In short, it seems to be a single sacrifice of simultaneous regret.
BEGINNING OF RANT : I like the interpretation that G od has regrets and does feels our pain. Such behavior makes for a real and more personal G od. Still, it takes a great deal of faith and integrity not to hurl villifications at heaven for the horrendous things that have been brought upon us over the centuries despite the concept that “G od feels our pain.” A lot of good that does us. And though we are promised that a remnant shall always remain, is that concept really compensation for the brutality we have suffered because of our faith? We have looked to an ethical monotheistic G od, we have looked to a law that demands that we pursue justice, we have stayed a unique people, and we have done this in the face of a hostile world and destructive forces. And every day we still get up to hostility. Is this condition due to our not having brought the world to ethical monotheism? Is this all our fault? There are times I want intervention, and I would gladly suspend free will from time to time if that would eliminate the evil that seeks to destroy us in every generation. Besides, it is not our free will that needs to be suspended, but the free will of those who hate us. We pray to G od daily to thwart the intentions of our enemies, and isn’t that a prayer for Divine intervention and theabnegation of free will? If G od is the parent who feels the suffering of his children, how does He decide which one of his children lives and which one dies? Certain people may believe it was a miracle that they survived the Holocaust. Perhaps they are part of the “promised remnant.” But what of the young boy who walked on the death march next to the one who was saved by a miracle? Why wasn’t there intervention for both? And if He is an all omnipotent G od, is free will so important for evil people that G od views it as inviolate as gravity? He certainly interceded directly in the desert when our ancestors exerted their free will and annoyed Him. How many thousands died there because they exerted their free will? Is an inviolate free will belief is a rationalization for G od’s silence?
I would rather believe that G od has absolutely nothing to do with choosing who lives and who dies and the manner in which they do this. Perhaps G od can eek out a little miracle for an individual if that individual happens to catch His attention at that moment. But the really big miracles like the one that created Israel or the one that has enabled Israel to survive, comes from the resolve of certain individuals, the pressure on the powerful, the voting booth, organized marches, money, and large weapon systems. Prayers of intervention are a “cover all bets” attempt at self delusion and waste of breath. I would rather believe that it is best to act like Nachshon who waded into the Sea of Reeds and took his fate into his own hands.
END OF RANT
I was reminded during the talk about a joke about a farmer standing on a hill looking over the straight rows of corn, the rows of vegetables, and the beautiful and lush orchards of fruit that he had planted and tended. A traveler comes over to him looks at the sight below and say, “You should thank G od for all this bounty.” The farmer looks at the man and says, “I do thank G od for the bounty, but you should have seen this place when G od was running it all by himself.” Humanity and G od are partners. G od provides the raw materials, and we create from them. We thank G od for the wine and bread, but there would be no wine and bread without the efforts of mankind. The Rabbi also made references to the Buddhists. To the Buddhists, life is suffering and we are to accept it. That is not the Jewish way. Tikkun Olam, mending the world, is second only to “Be a light unto the nations” as a Jewish mandate and a reason for being. The world cannot become a better place if we accept what is when what is is not good. Our focus must be on improving this world and not worrying about the next. There was more, but I can’t recall what it was.
July 11, 2010
Parsha Matot-Mass’el
Back in the 60's and 70's, there was a poster that proclaimed, “Bloom Where You’re Planted.” I always liked that poster, and I was reminded of it today during Mendy’s talk. The Torah portion began with the tribe of Reuven and Gad requesting that they be allowed to stay on the eastern side of the Jordan River and not cross into the Promised Land because of how perfect the land was for pasturing their large herds of cattle. In terms of livestock, they had the most because these two tribes ate only the manna to honor Moses, and therefore, their cattle increased.
Moses is annoyed at first because he initially sees their request as a denial of the primary objective, and asks them if they expect the other tribes to lay their lives on the line during the conquest without the tribes of Reuven and Gad risking theirs. Reuven and Gad respond that their fighting men will enter the fray and stay until the land has been conquered. Moses acquiesces to this counter offer even though he is still not sure.
His difficulty ultimately is that with these tribes separated from the rest, he feared that they would not continue to be in tune or continue to revere the traditions and laws that had been promulgated in the desert. So Moses sends half the tribe of Joseph’s offspring to settle with them. It seems that the tribe of Manassa had very learned and devout people in it who would be ongoing spiritual lights to these other two tribes.
For Moses, the concept of “holy” from the statement, “Be holy, for I am holy,” was of paramount importance. To be holy means to be separate. As G od is separate from humanity, so man must be separate from his basic animalistic instincts and tendencies. Man must rise above his basic nature, and this can be done when one accepts G od’s law as the center of one’s existence and the guide to one’s behavior. Moses wanted the tribe of Manassa to be among the tribes of Reuven and Gad as a reminder of what their focus needed to be and as a model of holy. To tie everything together, Mendy told the story of a young man who dreamed of going to the Holy Land with the Alta Rebbe maybe two centuries ago. During the trip, the young man fell ill and could not continue. The Rebbe comforted him by telling him to make Israel where he was, or “Bloom Where You’re Planted.” Simply, Israel, in addition to being the other name of Jacob, the title of the entire people, and the name of the land itself, is also a state of being that is revealed through one’s behavior. It is a series of ideas and values that one carries with himself or herself wherever he or she goes. It is never further away than a thought or action. It is always near. I’m sure this is one of the reasons why we have survived all these centuries.
July 18, 2010
Parsha Devarim
Tish’a B’av ends a nine day period of observance that commemorates several nasty events in our history and in the history of the world. Unlike most religions that commemorate events in the lives of their religious figures or of their deities, Judaism commemorates concepts and moments in time. Tish’a B’av asks us to recall the destruction of the two temples (422 BCE and 68 CE respectively), the date that the decree was given that our ancestors would wander in the desert for forty years, the expulsion from Spain, the day WW I began, and if I’m not mistaken, the day the Nazis crushed the Warsaw rebellion.
Mendy pointed out a crucial difference between the thinking about this date between the Chasidim and the rest of the Jewish world. While all observant people will refrain from eating meat or drinking wine during this period, and on the actual day which is the 5th of the Hebrew month of Av will fast for 24 hours, not bathe, and not have marital relations, the Chasidim focus on the joyous thought of the rebuilding of the Third Temple and the coming of the Messiah that ushers in that event. He spoke of the prophet’s warnings of the coming destructions that our ancestors would bring about because their faith and observances had become perfunctory, and because their treatment of one another had become abusive. But Mendy spoke of G od’s unfaltering belief that His people could return to Him and that He would bless them once again. Mendy told a story to reflect this. Once there was a father who had great wealth. He had made for his son a wonderful suit of clothes that the boy put on and wore proudly. But the boy, being a boy, went out to play while wearing the suit and it was ruined and had to be thrown away. But the loving father had another suit made for the boy, and boys being boys, once again went out wearing the suit to play and again it was ruined. The father had a third suit made, but this time he kept it in the closet until his son was mature enough to understand that things of great value should not be treated casually. Of course, this is all a metaphor. The father is G od, the son is the Jewish people, the suits represent the Temples, and the activities of the boy that ruined the suits were those behaviors that were unrighteous and harmful to the spirit of Judaism. G od has created the Third Temple and is holding it for us until we are worthy. When we are worthy, the Messiah will come.
Mendy made reference to some idea that there were no people who could truly focus on prayer, not even the great rabbis. I wasn’t clear on this because there is a legend that there are always 36 totally righteous men living at any one time who keep the world from falling apart. Surely, they must be focused enough. There was also some reference to the coming of Moshiach, and if total focus on prayer is the criteria that will let the Moshiach know that it is time to arrive, then it seems we are being told that Moshiach will never come because we cannot focus totally on prayer. Again, the standard sets everyone up to fail, and it seems not to be the Jewish way. His comment seemed to be reminiscent of something from the Christian bible where people are told that if they had the “faith the size of a mustard seed,” something or other would happen. It seems that in both instances, a standard of perfection is set up that rationalizes why Moshiach has not yet come. I’m not at all clear on the point, and hopefully, prayer itself is not the sole criteria. I’d prefer decent behavior.
July 31, 2010
Parsha Elkev
Prior to Mendy introducing Rabbi Epstein from Sons-of Israel, he mentioned that people often asked him why he so reveres the old rabbis? Why are you always looking to the past? My immediate thinking response was the quote “that if you don’t learn from history, your doomed to repeat it.” But Mendy’s take was the reverse of this negative admonition. Mendy believes that the old rabbis have great wisdom that is built on even older wisdom, and that there is much to learn from these venerable men. He spoke of the Rebbe’s father in law who was banished by the Russian government to a place where he could not teach Torah or study with other Jews. They even would not allow him paper and pen so he might write. So his wife ground up spices and herbs, and he wrote his commentaries in the empty spaces around the texts of the books he was permitted to take with him. Such devotion to the Jewish way of life (Yiddishkite) is admirable and worthy of emulation. I agree. If we do not learn from the lives and history of these rabbis, we would be doomed not to repeat their efforts or values, and so much of what we revere may be lost to us.
The key question that Rabbi Epstein addressed when he was invited up to the bemah to speak was “How do we become what G od wants us to become? We are told that we should imitate G od in our ways. I’m glad it doesn’t insist that we imitate G od in His ways because that would set us up for failure. And we are told in several places in Torah how to do this, and I don’t exactly recall what the Torah says. But I specifically recall what the prophet Micha gleaned from it. Micha writes, “What does the Lord G od want from you but to do justice, love mercy, and walk humbly with your G od.” Long ago I memorized this statement because it resonated within me and is a good guide and they guide my daily behavior although I sometimes have difficulty doing humble. Still, those are three tasks that are doable, and I think that most people have a grasp of what they mean. Sadly, as the rabbi reminded us, there are those who forget these exhortations the moment they leave a religious environment and go out into the world. From where I stand, these are the people who miss the point of Judaism despite their observance. Seeking justice, mercy, and humility is something a Jew is supposed to do 24/7. Sadly, as in other faiths that call for such behavior, it doesn’t always happen.
The fear of G od was another issue, and the rabbi clarified it nicely. He said there is a fear that we are to experience because there are things we must not do and if we do them, we should be afraid of retribution. Examples of these are too numerous to mention, but in the portion read today, Moses points many of them out. Then the rabbi spoke of the fear that is translated also as awe, the awe one feels when one looks out at the universe and experiences that smallness but also experiences the wonder of being part of that smallness and part of whatever plans there are. It reminded me of when I taught that in the process of developing a secular moral conscience, there were those who obeyed the law and did the right thing because they feared being caught and of being punished, yet there were those on the other end of the continuum who do what was right because they recognized that there has to be a social contract among people mutually applicable if we are to survive. Evolving from fear of being caught to a social contract involves developing character and ethics.
Secular humanism relies on the individual’s awareness of the needs of society to grow in goodness. Where as, in developing a religious conscience, there is a powerful force we call G od to whom we ascribe the power of judgement and who is the arbiter of right and wrong. Without this universal authority that is to be both held in fear, and held in awe, no one would be safe. When human beings reject G od’s authority, moral behavior can and often changes from person to person, group to group, and nation to nation. Judaism posits an unchangeable and universal morality. The vision of the Messianic Age where all turn to Israel and recognize the supremacy of G od, is that moment when a universal belief in ethical monotheism will lead all humanity to treat each one decently regardless of religious affiliation, color, orientation, or creed. There was more, but it’s hard to remember everything.
August 8, 2010
Parsha Re’eh
Mendy began his talk by referencing two passages fromThe Song of Songs which is attributed to King Solomon. This is a very sensuous piece of writing, and it is included in our canon because the rabbis interpreted it as the love between G od and the Jewish people. Mendy commented on the meaning of two lines: “I am my beloved’s and my beloved is mine,” and “My beloved is mine and I am his.” The difference between the two has to do with who is acting on whom. In one the interpretation is that man is acting and in the other, G od is acting. If I recall correctly, the expansion of this comment is that in one, I seek out G od to make G od mine, and the other is interpreted to mean that G od seeks me out to make me his. At least that’s how I recall the interpretation but I’m not exactly sure. Mendy was particularly passionate today and spoke even more rapidly than usual. It seemed to be a very important topic to him for personal reasons, and was a very important topic for us, because the high holidays are approaching and this is a time where we are the ones who seek out G od. He mentioned that Rosh Hoshonah was the time when we enter the synagogue on a quest for a relationship with G od. He said that everyone who comes, comes with a longing, but whether you leave having found what you are looking for depends on the effort you will be making. The moment may come when a phrase or even a word glows with the intensity of apprehension. Or it may not come to you at all, but you will return and return again because there is something locked deep within us that cries out for connection with the creator of the universe.
Mendy said that while Rosh Hashonah is the time we search for G od, Passover was the time when G od came searching for us. I never thought of this before, and suddenly becoming aware of such insight is only one of the many reasons why I have chosen to become part of this wonderful community. We did nothing to merit G od taking us out of Egypt after two hundred and ten years of slavery. This is where the rabbis interpreted the line, “My beloved is mine and I am his” as G od saying these people are my beloved people and I am their G od. They did nothing to deserve the blessing. G od chose them to be blessed. Mendy made reference to his own life and how blessed he was to be brought up in his home where G od showered him with blessing after blessing. He did nothing to merit them, and yet they came. He recalled that one of his brothers said, “Mendy was born not only a silver spoon in his mouth, but also on a silver plate.”
It seems as if there are two ways to encounter G od and one is no better than the other. The first is to seek G od out as we do on Rosh Hashonah. The second is to be sought out by G od as we were sought out in Passover. The former is more difficult and I think ultimately more rewarding for the following reason: When you are raised with loving parents, a loving G od, a firm belief in salvation through mitzvot, and in resurrection, faith in G od and love for G od come more easily. Why shouldn’t it. Life is good and your belief is that G od has made is that way. This of course is no guarantee that life will be good. Tzadiks also may be shaken by the “whips and arrows of outrageous fortune,” but the anchor is there even if thoughts and behaviors tend to wander. Mendy claims that it is hard for him to become the Jew he knows he can be. I genuinely believe he really does wrestle with the angels daily, not because he has lost his faith, but because his faith has not allowed him to become the man he wants to be. For those of us who came late to a Judaism that was not composed solely of Eastern European superstitions and a damning G od who watched and waited and then condemned you for any behavior you performed that upset your mother, we have a much more difficult journey than those who were raised by people like Mendy’s folks even if such people feel they have similar growth issues. I know that I made some bad decisions in my life and these decisions took me to dark places. Those decision were based on erroneous conclusions I reached as a child and they informed my life. When I took back my life resolving never to repeat past behaviors and never to involve myself with angry people again, my life began to turn around. Perhaps mixed up in this was this perennial search that I began in my twenties to find that special relationship with my G od. But instead of finding the daily Teyveh dialogue I sought, I’ve concluded that G od manifests himself into the decent people I meet who are loving and helpful friends. His voice is the voice of such people. His voice is Mendy’s voice.
August 14, 2010
Parsha Shoftim
Mendy introduced the parsha of the week by stating that he would talk about a topic probably no one ever spoke about from the bimah. He referenced a particular statement where G od is telling the Israelites what is acceptable in an altar that will hold his sacrifices and what is not. What is acceptable are altars made of dirt or of stones, but what is not acceptable are altars made of a single block of granite, marble, etc. In fact, and this was the point, G od Himself says that he hates such altars. A statement about G od hating is rare in the Torah, and to hate a particular type of altar where sacrifices would be made out of love and sincerity seems odd. So Mendy took us to the metaphoric place where we were better able to understand. A stone altar is composed of many different pieces of rock, and each rock by itself has its own individuality. The Jewish people are one people yet each is very different and brings to his or her worship unique perspectives, hopes, and aspirations. We are taught that G od loves the diversity. I recall other talks where this theme is echoed. When we were at the Sea of Reeds, midrash tells us that there were twelve paths through the water to accentuate the respect for the individuality of each tribe, but to reinforce that, the sole focus was on getting to dry land and that G od was saving us. Later, when the tabernacle was set up in the desert, each tribe was grouped so as their individuality as a tribe would be recognized, but their focus was on the Tent of Meeting. And so too with the altars. The diversity of the people is to be symbolically honored at the same time that altar is used to honor G od. Diversity with a single purpose. Pagan altars on the other hand, were constructed of a single piece of stone, and everyone was bound to worship the god in a lock stepped manner. There was no respect for the individual. Not so in worship of our G od. Each of us brings to our worship a particular uniqueness and a particular experience that colors that worship. Mendy spoke of those who come to shul to express gratitude, and of those who come to shul to express anger. He spoke of those who come to shul to question, and he spoke of those who come to shul to vent their frustrations. All come to shul and all offer up hearts that rejoice at one end of the continuum and weep at the other. His modesty did not permit him to say that there are those of us who come to shul to listen to him and draw closer to G od and meaning through what he teaches. And yet I cannot help but think that as an individual, each of us must find a pathway to a relationship with G od. Often though, that pathway is not the same pathway as the Orthodox path, and while those of us who are not Orthodox have given ourselves permission as a valued individual to seek G od in our own way, the Orthodox have no problem in telling us that we are just plain wrong. So how does that square with the alter concept? If G od loves the diversity, and the focus is all the same, who is to say that one path is more authentic than another if at the end of that path is that special relationship? It’s something to think about. I believe Chabad and I are on the same page when it comes to inviting Jews who are on different paths in. That said, I am also of the opinion that Chabad believes that its path is the only true path as do all the other Orthodox sects. At least I have never heard a Chabadnick use the words “halul Hashem” when referring to another Jew, and that to my mind makes them worthy of my involvement with them.
Mendy then told us of a recent experience he had up in the Catskills waiting for a pizza. A young man asked him where he was from, and when he said Cherry Hill, the young man said, “Thats the place where the rabbi murdered his wife.” So Mendy’s identity became bound up with that terrible event almost twenty years ago. Later, another couple came in and after some small talk, Mendy heard the husband tell his wife that Mendy’s claim to fame was that he was the study partner of the rabbi who became the Chief Chabad Rabbi of St. Petersburg. So in the space of moments, Mendy lost his identity to a notorious moment in his township’s history, and to a rabbi who receives the movers and shakers of the world at his synagogue and home in Russia. Mendy then introduced this rabbi with other glowing terms about his life, his brilliance, and his wonderful family, and I cannot recall a word this man said. I asked three other congregants at lunch if they could recall what the guest rabbi spoke of because I wanted to comment on it, but they also could not. Am I the only person who actually tries to remember what rabbis say from the bimah?
I have heard Mendy’s brothers speak from the bimah, and I have heard guest rabbis speak from the bimah. Thus far, none of them has matched Mendy for clarity of imagery, for staying on focus (except when Shaul asks a question), or the passion of his belief in what he is saying. Mendy Mangel can hold his own on any bimah in the world, or in any other venue in which he might find himself.
We are still in Deuteronomy, and I found a statement that I found rather interesting. Paganism was the major problem confronting our ancestors when they entered the land of Canaan, and the expressed danger was that there might be Israelites who would fall under the influence of paganism and turn away from G od. The tendency was there. So there is written a law that says, “You shall burn the evil out of your midst.” I couldn’t help but recall the line from the Christian testament that puts into the mouth of Jesus the words, “Resist not evil, but if someone strike you on one cheek, turn to him the other.” This, I believe, is an unreasonable expectation for any human being, and points out one of the key differences between Judaism and Christianity. Christianity is saying that the thing to do is to allow evil to fester and eventually, your goodness will bring the evil person to see that goodness and passivism is the correct path.* Perhaps this was true for the saints, but I have never seen a Christian or a nation claiming to be Christian, turn the other cheek when confronted by an adversary. It’s an impossible expectation and sets one up to feel hypocritical if you are a serious believer in you faith when you act to defend yourself. Judaism teaches that if you recognize evil, you destroy it before it begins to fester and reaches a critical mass where it begins to spread. It’s almost as if the Left, the Presbyterians, and the Methodists who periodically call for boycotts against Israel and condemn Israel for protecting herself, are expecting the Jews to be the Christians that they themselves have chosen not to be.*Gandi and Mandela were successful because the British who were involved in both India and South Africa were civilized people who responded to the criticism of the world. Had the world not pressured them, they would have done nothing. Their response did not arise out of Christian good will. The reasons the Nazis were able to murder Jews with impunity was that the Christian world did not care enough to condemn the atrocities. In fact, many participated. World War II did not break out to save the Jews.That’s why when I see the main stream Protestant communities supporting the terrorists, I wonder how they can do this again.
Parsha Vayechi
Mendy began by telling a story about the three cover pages published in the New York Times in the year two thousand. The first showed the cover page of 1990, the second, the day’s news of 2000, and the third predictions of 2010. At the bottom of the predictions page was a small line that read: “Jewish woman and girls will be lighting candles today at 4:45 p.m.” When asked in 2000 why that was included, the Catholic editor said that the only thing to be guaranteed is that Jewish girls and woman would be lighting candles. That was a real sweet story, and offers us a modicum of assurance and stability in a world where little is assured and little is stable.
The parsha this week is the last parsha in Genesis and deals with the death of Jacob and the blessings of his sons and of Joseph’s sons Manassah and Ephriam. Joseph, always the favorite son, receives a wonderful blessing, and when Joseph presents his own sons, Jacob places his right hand, the favored hand, on the head of Ephriam, the younger of the two. Joseph tries to reverse his father’s hands, but the patriarch is insistent. The favoring of the younger brother is a recurring idea in the Torah beginning with G od favoring Able’s offering over Cain’s, continuing with Jacob being favored of Esau, Joseph over all his brothers, and now, Ephriam over Manassah. In the Haftorah read today, we also see David blessing Solomon and giving him the kingdom over elder brothers.
What the Torah is clearly stating is that the concept of primogeniture, the concept of the eldest son inheriting in all ancient and some modern traditions, does not work in Judaism. Judaism, always a religion of transformation, was breaking new ground in society, and establishing meritocracy, not birth order, as the criteria for spiritual and secular leadership. One additional piece of information about these two brothers is that when a parent blesses his sons with the priestly benediction, it is prefaced with the words, “May G od make you like Ephriam and Manassah. Mendy asked us why this is done, and I responded with the statement that though raised in an alien environment with all the temptations that Egypt had to offer, these young men learned and remained true to their father’s faith. For their steadfastness in the face of temptation, they are so honored. For girls, parents bless them in the names of the matriarchs, because each also makes the choice since they came out of homes where paganism was the norm. All had to choose. The patriarchs did not choose but were chosen, so while they are honored, we do not bless our children in their names. Following these blessing, the other brothers make their appearances are given “blessings.” Some do not appear to be blessings, especially for the eldest three. Jacob seems to falter when speaking of his eldest, and his exasperation for Reuven is clear. Anthropologist have learned through ancient Mesopotamian records that the eldest son, when inheriting the leadership of the tribe, established his right to rule by taking to bed the former leaders concubines. Jacob, though living in this environment, found the tradition odious and seemed to stop mid blessing when the presence of his son reminded him of his son’s infraction. In tern, Judah and Levi remind Jacob of the Shechem slaughter, and like their older brother, Jacobs statement to them is not really a blessing. So it is left to the Rabbis and commentators to interpret what was really being said to the brothers, and turn them into blessings. I guess these interpreters were divinely inspired to see what I cannot.
Genesis ended, and with the ending of each the five books of the Torah, the congregation traditionally stands and says, “Be strong, be strong, and let us strengthen one another.” Again, the idea here is that the strength of the people comes from each member seeing him or herself as one obligated to support the others in the group. We are one people, one family, and that is one source of our continuing existence. What’s also nice is that anyone can join this family if he or she is so moved.
Genesis is a wonderful book filled with wonderful stories that aim to both inspire and inform our behavior. The characters, are thoroughly human, at times frail, at times brave, complex, fearful, anxious, joyful, crafty, generous, etc. In short, they experience the entire range of human emotions in their responses to the world about them. And they are all proactive. No one in Genesis stands still. They have visions and they have missions. They are impelled to act, and that’s why we can relate to them so readily. We are angry with them, we admire them, we laugh and cry with them, and we love them because we are them. They continue to live because they are as beautiful and as flawed as we are. Their triumphs and tragedies continue to speak to us. But there is something more at work in Genesis. Alan Dershowitz posited the idea that Genesis is a prequel book to Exodus. Exodus, literally a book of moving forward, is a book where specific laws regarding human behavior are clearly stated. But can laws exist without prior behavior to stimulate or inspire such laws into existence? First, there has to be a behavior for someone to judge that that behavior is either good or bad. A law for or against said behavior is promulgated. According to Dershowitz, narrative precedes law. Human beings relating to each other and to their societies make up the core stories of Genesis. The laws of Exodus may very well be a response to the experiences of the people of Genesis.
January 30, 2010
Parsha Beshalach
Today is Tu Bishvat, the new year of trees. I wasn’t aware of it, but it seems that with in the Jewish calender there are four commemorations of new years: one for trees, one for animals, one for kings, and one for the world which everyone knows as Rosh Hashonah. Mendy spoke metaphorically, making the comparison between people and trees. He spoke of trees that look strong and display massive limbs and a profusion of leaves, but in a great wind storm, such trees might blow over and be destroyed. He mentioned those trees that don’t look like much, scrawny, willowy, and gnarled but still able withstand the buffeting gale. The point he was making was that there are people who are very much like such trees, and the mark of a person, regardless of how he or she looks, is how they respond to the storms of life or as Shakespeare wrote, “the whips and arrows of outrageous fortune.” It is one’s humanity in the face of adversity that speaks to one’s true character. The man who appears to be more like the frail birch might bend when buffeted by the storm , whereas the man who is more like the oak might fall. It was a good analogy.
Mendy also spoke of leadership and this related to the parsha of the week which had the children of Israel caught between Scylla and Charybdis, between the Egyptian army and the Sea of Reeds. Leadership was the focus of his message, and he spoke of Nachshon, who happens to be one of my heroes. When Moses urged the Israelites into the water, they thought him mad, but this one man, Nachshon, with full faith in G od, stepped into the water and when the water got to Nachshon’s nose, the sea parted. This teaches that miracles don’t just happen. Miracles happen when people act and partner with G od. It was Nachshon’s faith that G od would act to save the people that caused the miracle to happen. Sometimes G od is a willing partner, and sometimes G od is not. But always, it is incumbent upon us to act first. Again, pray as if everything depends on G od, and act as if everything depends on you.
Following the splitting of the sea and the destruction of the Egyptian army, the people sing a song of praise to G od for the wonders performed. There was a major discussion during the Talmudic period as to how the people responded to this miraculous event, because Mendy devoted much of his time to three rabbinic leaders of the Talmud and their interpretation of the how and the why of this hymn of praise. At this moment I cannot recall the names of the rabbis. The first one he spoke of was either Hillel, or Akiva, the next was Rabbi Eliazar, and the third rabbis name began with an N. Again, one cannot take notes, and I am happy that I can remember this much.
Mendy’s comments also related to the concept of leadership, although I cannot recall the exact connection. In any case, the first rabbi insisted that leadership is revealed when one person tells others what they must do, and those told, follow without question. This first rabbi favored the idea that Moses composed the song, and the people sang exactly what he told them to sing. I think it was the third rabbi who insisted that the people composed the song simultaneously, and each separate individual was inspired with the same words. The concept of leadership here is that a leader is to inspire, and the people take over and act on their own to achieve the purpose. At this moment, I cannot recall the third concept of leadership and how it was interpreted by the rabbi as it related to the song.
Leaders want their constituents to accept what they have to say and act accordingly. Good leaders take their followers through a process that is similar to the process for developing values. If something is to be of value, it must be chosen from alternatives. It must be chosen after thoughtful consideration of the consequences. It must be chosen freely, and affirmed publicly. The value must also be stronger than a feeling. A good leader will make the case, lay out the pros and cons, and invite those listening to him or to her to consider, weigh, choose, and affirm though action by following.
It is interesting to note that there are some people who will pretend value something because they want to please, but when they are not under the guise of those whom they want to please, they might ignore the value. Children who are not given options may act on what their parents demand of them, but out of sight, they may act in a very different way. You can beat a value into some one, but it would be there only as long as the threat is there. How to inculcate values and likewise leadership skills are skills needed to be taught, and they can only be taught through modeling. Parents who drop their children off at the synagogue to be taught, but are not consistent in their holiday observances or attendance at services, are in effect saying to their children: “You value this education we are providing for you, but it is not something that should effect your way of life.” And it will not. The parents are modeling that this religion is a sporadic thing that belongs to your childhood and early adolescent years, but not needed when you are an adult. Parents are also leaders in their families.
February 13, 2010
Parsha Mishpatim
Mendy initially spoke of two laws: the first was a request for half a shekel or a half dollar to be given to the Temple, and the second spoke to a prohibition regarding the grafting of one species onto another. He asked why only a half and not a whole?, and what meaning can be found in the grafting of trees? The commentary that followed spoke of how we, like the half shekel, are only half of the whole, and that G od is the other half in the equation and how we need to be mindful of G od as an influence in our lives from moment to moment. To extend the metaphor, it would seem that through our actions, we daily bring ourselves to the Temple to encounter the G od that makes us whole. It was a meaningful interpretation of these ancient laws.
In some way that I no longer can recall, this led to the problem humans have of remaining on focus during any particular moment without our brains carrying us to other places that keep us from being in the here and now. Lurking somewhere in this was the implicit idea that we frequently find that we do not involve ourselves totally in the moment at hand, and this tends to injure our relationships, especially with our wives. Interestingly enough, I found myself leaving Mendy’s moment and thinking about Martin Buber and his I - Thou concept where he states that it is only when one is totally and truly focused on another person or an object then one can indeed experience G od. Such a focused moment might be rare, but it is always rewarding. In most instances, our relationships are I-It where something or someone becomes an object to be used. Having such moments are normal, but if I-It it is the only aspect in a relationship one experiences, it may not be a good relationship. The prohibition against grafting seemed to be the Bible’s way of saying that we must not deny people or things their right to their individuality or their right to rely on their own strengths. Each of us is unique with a unique gift to offer, and being lumped into a group or metaphorically grafted onto someone or something tends to reduce our individuality. Our differences are our strengths and what makes us unique as an individual or as a people are where our strengths lie. Again, as Mendy spoke, I found myself drifting to Genesis and thinking about the statement about a man and women becoming one flesh. I wondered if this were a contradiction. Marriage is a coming together of two people with the focus of creating a home and a family to carry on traditions, but must one subordinate one’s self to the marriage and lose one’s individuality? Marriage is a graft of sorts. Something to think about.
Somewhere in the talk I was reminded of the concept of the multiculturalism, and how that movement seeks to level the playing field by stating that all cultures are good and all moralities are equal. I reject this concept completely, because there are some ideas, ways of life, and moralities that are clearly superior to others. The view that life is the supreme value as taught in our tradition is clearly superior to any concept of modesty that would allow girls to burn to death because they might not appear immodestly in public, or allowing girls to die at birth because they are not boys. Yet a true multiculturalist might disagree. And I suddenly saw that I had refocused, was no longer in Mendy’s moment, and could not remember what brought me to where I was. I became at that moment the perfect example of what he was talking about. I lost focus in the moment.
Mendy also raise the question as to why, after the elevated ideals given in the Ten Commandment, does the Torah begin issuing rules about things as mundane as helping your enemy’s donkey if it falls beneath its burden. For me, the answer was clear even though I chose not to respond. The big ten are lofty ideas that exist both as guides for establishing a stable society, and as headings under which all other commandments in the Torah might be subsumed. But how to live day to day and how to deal effectively, honestly, and morally with your fellow human beings is what is also needed between the moments when a person is making the big decisions on whether or not to commit adultery or to covet. For example, we are commanded to love our neighbor. We are not commanded to love everybody. Our ancestors recognized that loving everyone was too broad an abstraction, and therefore too easy to dismiss being impossible, but loving a neighbor who might also be a complete ass was a better test of a person’s mettle. Moses was so wise. It was the interpretations of these commandments and my subsequent musings about them that got me really thinking about why I’ve chosen to attend Chabad each Shabbat even though I accept the reality that I will never be more than a tangential part of this community. I am not ashamed to say that I go there to listen to Mendy who is skilled at revealing to me the secrets hidden in the Torah. I doubt if others attend for this reason. I also go there because my soul finds comfort in the sound of other men praying in Hebrew, and I am profoundly moved by the intensity and apparent faith of those around me. Most appear to be far more learned and certainly more observant than I, but in truth, I have no personal knowledge at to whether any of them are more spiritual than I or even give spirituality much thought. To be perfectly honest, my encounter with the transcendent does not come from the siddur, and I frankly find the repetition of the prayers of praise and thanks boring, misguided if you consider the history of my people, and restrictive. While I’m sure I would find comfort in believing in the Orthodox concepts of G od posited in the siddur, I do not believe in a personal G od who hears and responds to these prayers, who is involved in history, or who is aware of me as an individual. My concept of G od is the En Sof, the Endless Creative Existence in the universe who is the creator of all things, who is infused in all things, and beyond all our imaginings and conceptions.
Spinoza, deemed a heretic and excommunicated for positing such alien a concept of G od to the devout Jews of Amsterdam, was I believe closer to the mystical vision of G od posited in the Kabbalah. Spinoza, like the Jewish mystics, recognized a transformative energy that was infused in all natural things and was revealed in the Laws of Nature. To bring En Sof into humanity’s grasp, the sages, recognizing this sensed presence, postulated a personal deity that would be more easily addressed and more accessible than an Endless Creative Existence. This formulation is the revealed G od of the Bible. They wrapped our creation story in metaphor which morphed En Sof into an anthropomorphic Being who created us not in his physical image because Endless Creative Existence has no physicality, but created us as extensions of a limitless creative mind and spirit. And we, as human beings, have been created in that image. It’s not our physical bodies that image God, but our minds.
In our ability to reason and to create, we can find our Creator if we take the time to wonder. We are told that we are co-creators with the Creator. This idea is a vestige of a great ancient truth. En Sof is Endless Creative Existence, even if I don’t totally apprehend what that fully means. Perhaps I never shall. The story within the story of Gan Eden explores the human spirit’s quest to be like G od which is right and proper since En Sof endowed us with a reason and the ability to create. But even the realization that we contain the elements of G od’s mind no less the idea that we have the potential to become G odlike, had to be a frightening idea to our ancestors who conceived it. While the underlying apple story is the story of humanity’s natural quest for knowledge, the telling of that noble quest devolved into a transformational myth written to explain why there is pain in childbirth and why people have to work to survive while hiding the core truth. But that is overly simplistic and a diversion from the true issue which is that it is dangerous for humans to recognize their potential and their ability to approach and become, divine. We are even told that those who were already divine were fearful of our apotheosis and of eating the fruit of the Tree of Life. Philosopher Manly P. Hall wrote: “If the infinite had not desired man to be wise, He would not have bestowed upon him the faculty of knowing.” Beings such as ourselves who were created can also become creators. We can ascend and that must have been the En Sof’s intention for us when we were conceived at our beginnings. Perhaps this metaphoric ascent manifests itself in our nobility of thought and action. And when we begin to harness those powers within, we will have enormous control over our world. This human ascension has revealed itself throughout history by individuals acting alone and in concert with one another. Such people, through their actions, have designed and instituted new worlds and new ways of seeing. We have always had the power to create new realities rather than merely react to them. The thoughts of such people affected the world, and when those thoughts and ensuing actions were good, civilization and humanity took great strides. When those thoughts and actions were dark, the effects left deep scars. It is far easier to destroy something than to create and build. En Sof has endowed us with such abilities. Collectively, humanity can be the hoped for Messiah, the personification of a future time when justice and peace will be pervasive. We can bring this about if we chose to work together.
People who become creators of new paradigms and who risk taking action, are often called heretics. The Baal Shem Tov was a heretic. He created a new vision of how people could come to a relationship with G od, and he was torn down and rejected by those defenders of what had always been. But eventually, what he created found believers, and the believers reached a critical mass, and suddenly there was a new and viable movement that became a truth that is still transforming Judaism despite those who reject this path. The perception of those who stood on the sidelines was transformed by another truth, and a new reality called Chassidism was born and continues to attract young and old alike.
Mendy, you inspire me to think and to be honest in my assessment of myself and the world around me. Perhaps in another life I shall act. Note: If anyone reading this is interested in more of my take on theology, you can read my New Genesis and Credo.
February 20, 2010
Parsha Terumah
Today, Mendy did not speak about the Torah portion at all, but chose to speak about a man who was on death row for twenty-five years and then executed. The man was Jewish and murdered a police officer in cold blood because he knew that by taking a gun for target practice into a national park, he was committing a parole violation. He was already a felon. And rather than return to prison, he decided to murder the person who would take him into custody. Mendy said that he himself did not have an issue with the death penalty, but he signed a petition to stay this man’s execution for what seemed to be two reasons: First, the petition called for an extension for a period of time, and secondly, because the man was a Jew and we, as a people, have to speak up for our own. I can understand Mendy’s reasoning with the former, but I have a problem with his reasoning regarding the latter. Mendy said that as long as there is legal recourse open to us, we as members of the Jewish people, must take that opportunity to save a “member of the tribe.” To me, this seems too ethnocentric or chauvinistic for my tastes, and while the tradition teaches that there are many conditions that need to be present before capital punishment can be effected, the Torah is very clear on killing someone if it is not in self-defense.
(As a side note, the initiators of this petition were the Satmir Chasidim and the massive turn out for this man’s funeral came from the Satmirs. Personally, I am suspect of the Satmirs, not just because they don’t believe that Israel should exist, but because they do not consider any one who is not a Satmir a real Jew.)
It is to be noted that the only people who supported this petition were the Orthodox.
Personally, I do believe in the concept of kal Yisroel; all Jews being part of one great family. That said, I am not so jingoistic as to feel that an offending Jew must be supported no matter what. When a Jew is successful and makes the world a better place, I rejoice in that person’s portion and take personal pride that we are connected. When one brings us shame through their behavior, I see such behavior as a blemish on us, and I am effected personally. As with any ethnicity and religion, there are good Jews and there are bad Jews. This young man brought shame to his people.
Mendy tangentially touched on something that I thought was really important, but he chose not to expand on it because he might have thought that by addressing it he was just “preaching to the choir.” But the fact that a Jewish boy could murder someone in cold blood deserves our attention. My response would be that as the Jewish people become more assimilated into American culture and move further away from the idea that G od has expectations for our behavior, we become just like everyone else in the society as far as morality is concerned. This young man gave himself permission to become first a felon, and then a murderer. G od could not possibly have been a living presence in his life. Of course, you can have a strong Jewish upbringing and still not make the connection between what you do and what our Torah asks you to do. If G od is not at your center, then it is the individual who becomes the arbiter of right and wrong. Then again, many do pray three times a day and are still thieves. So the great question remains: What gave this person permission to kill in cold blood? Why was there no overriding switch in his head that stopped him? In his fear and panic, why did his default button not move him to “life is sacred?”
As always, Mendy invited questions and comments from the congregation. I chose not to ask my question, but it would have been this: “Mendy, do you have any parameters when it comes to saving a Jewish life or must the Jew be saved no matter what the offense?” I would have asked this because throughout our history, there have been Jews who thought they would be safe in Christian and in Muslim communities if they became quislings and reported on or gave up their people. Such traitors caused the deaths of other Jews even if they did not commit the crime with their own hands. For example, back in the 12th Century, a Jewish convert to Christianity named Theobold of Cambridge, testified that Jews were required to sacrifice a Christian child annually, the choice of place being made at an annual conference of rabbis. This first accusation of ritual murder opened the door that eventually led to the blood libel, the resultant deaths of thousands of Jews, and the destruction of Jewish towns and villages. Would Mendy have signed a petition to save Theobold of Cambridge? since a fundamental belief of Orthodoxy is that one can never convert. And what of the Jewish capos in the death camps? I don’t think I am mistaken in my understanding of that precept.
To describe Theodore of Cambridge, I would use the Yiddish word, moser. I believe there are truly evil people in this world, and a moser who contributes to the deaths of Jewish people to me is not deserving of mercy even if considered a Jew. The man who was put to death by the Florida justice system killed an innocent human being, but it doesn’t make a difference if the murderer was Jewish or he wasn’t Jewish. “To destroy one life is as if you have destroyed an entire world” is also a guide to deciding whether one is deserving of the ultimate punishment, and for me, that is a powerful teaching. Justice must be blind to ethnocentricity and religion as well. Most African-Americans supported OJ and shouted for joy when he was acquitted. Color was more important than justice. The Uni-Bomber was turned in by his brother. I think that the brother was a hero for placing justice above blood. I do believe that if my brother or one of my own children were responsible for the deaths of innocent people, I would do the same. To place blood above justice is as wrong as placing ethnocentricity and religion above justice. “Justice, justice you shall pursue.” The Torah is very clear on this matter of justice. This time, I think Mendy is off base for placing the man’s ethnicity above justice.
March 6, 2010
Parsha Parshat Parah
Mendy chose not to speak about the parsha which was about the golden calf , but chose to speak about the Sabbath and the Friday night table service. He told us that he pooled a number of teenagers as to their understanding of the Sabbath, and I think he was somewhat saddened to hear them relate only the restrictions. That in itself is a learning experience, and I hope he learned that even these Orthodox children associate the Sabbath more with prohibitions than with the joy that it is meant to be. Some re-teaching is in order with a focus on the spiritual rather than on the regulations. For me, had he asked, I would have said that the Sabbath is a special few hours on those Saturday mornings when I am able to attend where I can separate myself from the negativity in the world and the anxieties that come just by living, and allow my soul to be bathed in the sounds and sights of the Shabbat morning service at Chabad. When I fist enter, I close my eyes and just listen. For me, there is actually physical sensation of being filled up and a deep appreciation of the moment, an experience often "too deep for tears."
Mendy then turned his attention to the Sabbath meal and its importance. I learned several new facts which I will incorporate. One tradition to be instituted is to place a cloth under the breads to commemorate the dew on the ground that protected the manna when it fell. So now I know that there was protection both under it and over it. I knew that salt was used to commemorate the sacrifice, but I did not know that each person must dip his or her piece in salt which seems to make the chalah more distinctive. I also learned that gefilteh fish that we know is the chopped fish that was originally the center of an appetizer that had a filet of fish wrapped around its outside. This was done because one of the Sabbath prohibitions had something to do with being unable to separate the good from the bad on the Sabbath and that included boning fish. So some brilliant bubba came up with the idea of creating a dish that did not have bones. (Damned clever these Jews.) He also talked about the traditions of lighting a minimum of two candles and of other traditions, and of the wine that is meant to ease the stress of the week and invite participation. These I knew.
I think Mendy missed something important in his exhortation to make Shabbat happen in one’s home. When I think of my Sabbath table, I see in it blurts of my people’s history. Yes, the two breads are to remind us of the double portion of manna collected, but they are also reminiscent of the loves of shew breads in the temple that were set in two rows. The cover above and below the breads recall the protection of the manna from the elements as we wandered in the desert, and the two candle sticks recall the two versions of the commandment to observe and to remember the Sabbath. The salt reminds us of the salt used in the sacrifices, and the water for washing the hands recalls the rituals for cleansing one’s self before the sacrificial offerings. The white table cloth recalls the pure table in the Temple. So in addition to reading an aspect of our history in the desert and our experience at Sinai, the Sabbath table also takes on the aura of what went on in the Temple itself.
The father stands and, like the priest, places his hands on his children’s heads and blesses them in the names of the matriarchs and Joseph’s sons which also teaches by recalling the choices these people made to embrace Judaism's G od. But by placing our hand on their heads, the father becomes a priest empowered to bless. No other religion on earth endows a father with such power. To me, the cutting of the challah is reminiscent of a sacrificial offering.
And by reading “A Woman of Valor” to his wife, the father is modeling for his children the respect and honor due the woman of the house. If young husbands or fathers actually understood the value of this weekly ritual and what it accomplishes for themselves and for those at the table, they would make every effort to make it happen weekly. And always, fresh flowers are presented to the wife for the Sabbath table as a token of affection and for beautification of the table.
I shall not go into details of my odyssey back to Judaism. Suffice it to say that when I first decided I would incorporate the Shabbat table into my life, I learned to do the following: The table always had a white cloth and fresh flowers were presented to my wife each Friday night. I also gave her a small token of affection. The candles were lite, and “Shalom Aleichem” was sung. This was followed by something called “highlights of the week” where we went around the table and shared the good things that had happened to us. The children could also do a “presentation” of something of which they were proud. “A Woman of Valor” was read, and my daughters were blessed. I taught myself to sing “vayacholoo” and the kiddish. I learned all necessary blessings and the meal began. Afterward, we did an abbreviated birchat hmazon and sang songs. Saturday morning we would go to shul (Beth Torah) in Willingboro and then we’d do “Super Shabbos” which was to do something that was both educational and fun. March 20, 2010
Parsha Vayikra
Mendy and a group of congregants just returned from Israel, and Mendy invited several men to the bimah to share their experiences. It was described as a wonderful trip, and I wish I could have been with them. Perhaps one day I shall. But I have my own recollections of Israel from my trip in 2005, and since most spoke about their experience at the Wall, I thought back to mine and to the log I kept. From the Golan, we traveled to Jerusalem, the city of David and the spiritual center of the Jewish universe. It’s a beautiful city, partially because a law was past in the early part of the last century by the British that only Jerusalem stone may be used in all construction. So there is a uniformity about the city, and this particular stone glows gold when the sun hits it just at the right angle at sun rise and sun set. The is a song entitled, “Jerusalem of Gold” that was written after it was recaptured from the Jordanians in 1967.
Everyone who had ever been to the Western Wall assured me that the experience would be profound and life altering. For some reason, everyone just expected that I, too, would have such an experience and I expected just as much. In my fanciful imagination, I had a Mahler symphony playing and several choirs singing in full voice accompanying my personal epiphany. I expected that Shechinah would descend upon me and transfigure me into the spiritual being I craved to be. Sadly, these things did not happen. The Wall seemed to have other experiences in store for me different from the ones I anticipated. Perhaps I was just too exited to see the Western Wall and to touch it, or perhaps I was just too tired. Or perhaps I was just too needy to feel the awe of the place and just too aware of the need to feel it. A person can lose the moment by focusing on the need and not on the experience itself. I think now that there were too many expectations, mine and others, not enough suspension of the self, and certainly not enough preparation for such a moment. I did hear something akin to music, but it was the soft murmuring cadences of other Jewish men who had also come there to pray and perhaps to also experience something of the holy. I was not absorbed by the sacredness of the spot, though I was fully aware of the awesomeness of the place. In the spiritual center of the Universe, I could not find my spiritual center. I had not prepared myself.
So I think that my experience at the Wall, by not fulfilling my expectations, was to make me more aware of the work I had to do to make my soul become more spiritually connected. I should have known that in such sacred places and at such sacred moments, one had to be able to free oneself from ego and earthly concerns and give oneself up to whatever was waiting. Such a spiritual connection takes work. I had not done the work, and it did not occur to me that I had withheld myself from the work that needed to be done. Releasing oneself into the moment, especially a sacred moment, is not an easy thing for me to do. Perhaps it is easy for truly pious people or people who do not endlessly struggle with theology, but I am neither. To enter sacred space, time needs to be suspended, and rational doubts need to be deferred. The mind needs to be cleared and open for elevated thoughts. Sacredness demands it. So needing to connect to this hallowed space, I placed my open palms against the golden stone and conjured a cognitive imagining that if the electrons in the extremities of my hands would form a bond with the electrons of the stone in the Wall, at least a connection could be made on an atomic level. Theoretically, the Wall and I would be one. Now that would be something. Certainly, if G od is everything as Spinoza taught, it would happen So, with my palms and forehead pressed against the very same stones that countless numbers of my people touched and wept upon, my Zeydeh’s tallis covering my head and shoulders, I desperately tried to physically and emotionally connect with my G od, the Temple Wall, my history, and my people. Like in most things, we expect G od to do the work for us, and I have to once again remind myself that that is not how G od works in this world. A midrash tells us that Nachshon ben Amidai walked into the sea up to his nose before the sea parted for the children of Israel. He did something to create his own miracle. He did his work and his work was one of faith. I had done no work, and as I had withheld myself from the work, the Wall withheld itself from me. That in itself was a major learning or relearning. And with that learning came a fuller understanding of the need for preliminary prayers, niguns, and focused imagery prior entering sacred time and sacred space. It takes time and a special mind set to realize before whom you stand when you face the Western Wall. Preparation is the key to the pardes gate. I had come with too many expectations for myself, for the Wall, and for G od. I had not done what I had to do to make my miracle happen. Standing there, were other blurts of revelations. One image that came to me was that I was in a place where all around me Jewish men were praying openly with reverence and passion, totally comfortable in their Judaism, and that I had never been as comfortable with my Judaism as I was at that moment. Another flash made me aware that I was in my ancestral homeland, and that if I could, I could trace myself back thirty-five hundred years to some farmer or herder, priest, or king who had sent his genetic material through centuries to a descendent who had finally returned to where his family began. Lastly, it came to me that the mighty Roman Empire that burned the Holy Temple and carried away its great treasure and people to build the Coliseum and beautify Rome, was long dead, and that I and my people were still here, still vibrant, and still trying to inch the world to a better tomorrow. And like the Western Wall, my people had survived the calumnies, the humiliations, and the brutalities of the centuries, and I know we shall continue to survive and continue our God given mission to bare witness to His law and to mend the world. Perhaps that all that can be learned at the Wall when time is limited and schedules demand attention and one has not truly prepared himself before entering such a sacred space. I did not get from the Wall what I came for, but I certainly did not walk away empty.
Connecting to the trip, Mendy told a story about a young Chasid who was a follower of the second Rebbe. It seemed this young man’s passion was to go to Israel, but he fell ill on his journey, and had to return home. His disappointment was profound, and the Rebbe comforted him by saying: “Make Israel where you are.” Mendy then invited us to think about how one might do that. How does one bring Israel into one’s life on a daily basis. For that to happen, I think one must understand what Israel stands for and how its “being” might effect an individual.
If Israel ever needed a motto, I think, “Wait till you see tomorrow!” would be a fitting one. It is a land of hope and of expectations with an indomitable spirit that is palpable. Bringing such a spirit of hope and expectations into one’s life can only make that life a better one and one worth living. I believe that to do so is to make Israel where you are. Then of course, there is the sanctity of this land and of Jerusalem itself. For me, Israel and Jerusalem are separate from the rest of the world on a purely spiritual plain, and to bring such sanctity into one’s life is to separate one’s self from that which is base in this world and from those instincts within ourselves that speak to our animal natures. To do so is to bring Israel into one’s life. And to do what is right when other choices are more tempting and rewarding, and to be honest when dishonesty is beneficial, and to be responsible when it is easier to walk away, are also ways of bringing the spirit of Israel to where I am.
Mendy also referred to sacrifice because the Torah portion was the beginning of Leviticus and the details of what is to be brought, when it is to be brought, and how it is to be prepared. We were asked to think of the sacrifices we make today, and we were asked to consider modern sacrifices as those activities we perform that are outside our comfort zones that make for a better world.
April 3, 2010
In order to understand what Mendy spoke of today, the seventh day of Passover and the day that commemorates the splitting of the Sea of Reeds, you have to understand the concept of midrash. A Midrash is a story that exists between the lines, and midrash stories are held in Orthodox tradition as having the same veracity as the Torah and the Talmud. For me, they are wonderful stories that fill in the spaces within established Torah stories and they were told by imaginative people who saw a need to flesh out the basic tale with additional details of events, characters, and philosophy. Now in dealing with the splitting of the sea, we are dealing with a miracle. Now miracles are those events that are unusual in nature. Miracles happen daily and seasonably, but because we are so used to seeing them, they appear normal. According to a midrash, before the beginning of creation, G od decreed that certain things would be created along with the other things we know about such as the heavens, earth, stars, etc. and these were things like: the mouth of the earth that would one day swallow Korah and the rebels, the mouth of Bilam’s donkey, the well that followed our ancestors in the desert, and a variety of other events that people call Biblical miracles. But our sages taught that by G od creating them at the time of creation and holding them until they were needed, they are not really miraculous happenings, but naturally ordained events. One of G od’s creations was water, and the midrash tells us that when G od created water, He informed the water that it would have to split itself in the future to save the Jewish People. G od then showed the water the righteous and pious Jewish souls to be born, and the water agreed. When it came time for the sea to split, the water refused. It seems, according to another midrash, there were four camps of thought at the sea as the Egyptians bore down on the Hebrews. One camp said that they had to fight, another said that they had to commit suicide, a third said that they should return to slavery, and the fourth said they should pray. No one seemed to think they should move ahead as G od intended. The water looked at these people and decided they were nothing like the worthy souls G od had shown it prior to creation, not worthy of being saved, and it refused to split. But in the Torah there is the story where Joseph requests that his bones be carried out of Egypt once the captivity was over, and when the water saw the bones of Joseph among the people, it recognized and remembered Joseph’s refusal to deny his heritage assimilate into the Egyptian world despite becoming a great leader. At the very same moment, another midrash tells us about a man named Nachshon ben Amidi who bravely walked into the water because of his faith that G od would save the people. At that moment, the water, recognizing that there were still pious and righteous people among the Jews, parted and the people passed through on dry ground. Delightful story.
Mendy, I knew the story of the bones of Joseph, and incorporated it into a graduation speech delivered at the Yeshiva. It follows.
Lech Lecha- an invitation to a journey into the unknown which may not be denied.
Lech Lecha-a rite of passage whose first step is called tomorrow.
It is written in our tradition that each of our ancestors, in order to encounter Hashem and become who they were to become, had to go out from the place where they were. Something out there was calling them, inviting them.
Abraham was the first to hear Lech Lecha, and he sets out into the unknown and he becomes the ancestor of mighty nations and mighty faiths.
Isaac also sets out with his father into the unknown, and into a Covenant with Hashem as does Jacob when he sets out for Beer Sheba to become Israel.
Joseph was sold by his brothers into the unknown to become a mighty counselor to Pharaoh and a savior to his people. And Moses flees Egypt into an unknown land called Media, finding Hashem and the strength to lead. And the Children of Israel hear Lech Lechca and are led into an unknown, hostile desert to the foot of Sinai and into history.
But the Children of Israel are told not to go out of Egypt empty handed, for along with the spoils of Egypt, they were told to take the bones of Joseph with them. The bones of Joseph-the bones of the person who was his people’s savior. The bones of Joseph, perhaps a metaphor for the Jewish commitment to community, values, history and tradition to be carried with us where ever we go.
You, like our ancestors, are hearing your own Lech Lecha and are setting out into your unknown to uncover the mystery of who you are and where you are going. And like our ancestors who carried out of Egypt the bones of Joseph, you also do not go out empty handed, for you take with you certain teachings that will direct you, counsel, you and sustain you if you choose to hold these teachings close to your hearts.
You have been taught you are part of a singular group of identifiable people who have a mission to be a light unto the nations, to model righteous behavior as Jews, and to be the voice of Hashem where ever you encounter cruelty and injustice. This is our reason for being and it is your purpose.
You have been given a vision that clearly states that cruelty and injustice need not be the norm and that tyrants and oppressive systems can be changed. Your ancestors in Egypt were the first to do it and we have been doing it ever since. You have been taught of the Messianic Vision, a vision of universal peace, the vision of the prophets. These are your bones of Joseph.
You were given the idea that as part of the Jewish people, you are obliged to act to bring about changes in the world that benefit all, but to bring about this change only under Hashem’s eternal moral law, for you know that if we substitute personal opinion for Hashem’s eternal law, values will become situational and morality will become relative.
You know that your purpose as participants in humanity and as members of the Jewish family is to assist Hashem in mending the world. These are your bones of Joseph.
You know that your Jewish identity is not solely centered in a set of dogmatic beliefs, but is also to be centered in a particular value system, in community, and history and that we will survive as a people as long as we all remain part of that community. These are also the bones of Joseph.
You also take with you the idea that Judaism is a life affirming faith whose adherents worship a life affirming G-d; a G-d whose primary expectation is that we treat each other well. And finally my dear students, you will go out into the unknown, into a world that will often tempt you with excess. But you know that you can control your appetites-not by stifling them, but by mastering them; enjoying everything in Hashem’s world with moderation, understanding that once your have marked off the limits of that which is permitted and that which is forbidden, you can enjoy yourselves within those parameters without wondering if you are doing right or wrong.
So we do not send you out empty handed. We send you out with your own bones of Joseph if you will. We send you with knowledge, with values, with purpose, and with a vision of how you can make a difference. And because you are now hearing your own Lech Lecha, we send you off with a prayer. “May it be thy will, O Lord our G-d and G-d of our fathers and mothers to conduct them in peace, to direct their steps in peace, to uphold them in peace, and to lead them in life, joy and peace unto the haven of their desire. O deliver them from every enemy, ambush and hurt by the way, and from all afflictions that visit and trouble the world. Send a blessing upon the work of their hands. Let them obtain grace, loving kindness and mercy in thine eyes and in the eyes of all who behold them. Hearken to the voice of our supplications; for Thou are a G-d who hearkenest unto prayer and supplication. Blessed are Thou, O Lord, who hearkenest unto prayer.” Amen.
P.S. Mendy, again, thank you for the honor of being called up to dress the Torah. I was having a particularly bad day, and your invitation was the connection I needed. It took me out of my personal Egypt.
April 10, 2010
Parsha Shemini
The parsha this week begins with the dedication of the Mishcan or tabernacle. The directions are explicit, and at one point, fire descends from heaven and consumes the offering. How can anyone not believe and rejoice in G od at this moment. Yet in the very next moment, Aaron’s sons die for bringing “alien” fire. How can anyone not be horrified? At one moment, elation, and seconds later, dismay. What kind of G od is this? This question was not asked by Mendy, but it came to my mind.
Aaron’s sons had no malice in their hearts when they brought their fire. These were devoted, pious men like their father and their uncle, who were participating as best they could. What kind of G od kills for infractions without informing them that their offering is not the proper procedure? How can anyone ever be comfortable with a G od who gives no wiggle room for mistakes? Again, these questions were not asked by Mendy, but someone in the congregation saw some connection between G od’s quick action at this moment, and G od’s lack of involvement in the Holocaust. Where was G od? While Mendy did not address that question, he made it very clear that anyone who blames the Holocaust on the victims for not being pious or righteous enough was mad. I think Mendy also struggles with the question of “Where was G od?” In some way he got around to the idea that being pious was not enough, and that action had to be taken. He urged us again to write letters to our congressmen and to the president about the relationship between the U.S.A. and Israel, and how it had to be kept strong.
This parsha also dealt with those animals that are considered kosher and those that are not. There are reasons to keep these dietary laws, and one new reason dealt with the idea that kosher foods enable the spirit to expand better than non-kosher foods. This I understand to be a purely spiritual phenomena, so I have no idea as to how this works. Personally, I’ve always thought of keeping kosher as a way of curbing one’s appetites and maintaining a degree of self control. I’ve also always seen it as a vehicle for keeping the people together, and as a pathway to personal elevation. In this I mean that eating enables us to live, and by referring to G od expectations regarding food three time a day, I am again reminded of the other commandments intendent upon my behavior. But Mendy focused in on fish, saying that if it has scales and fins, it is permissible. I think he also said that if it only has fins, it would also be considered kosher but not visa versa. The important point being made was that the scales are for protection, and the fins move the fish along. He drew the comparison between fish and people. We, as a people, need to protect ourselves from the intrusion of all that is crass and degenerative that comes at us through the internet, musical lyrics, films, etc. We need scales to do this. But we also need fins to propel us forward, because we may not stand still. We must grow in our humanity
Two weeks ago, Mendy led a stalwart band of congregants into Queens N.Y. to visit the Rebbe’s grave and then into Crown Heights to visit his old stomping grounds. The Rebbe is buried in the Old Montifiore Cemetery on Springfield Boulevard. I had never made a pilgrimage to a rabbi’s grave before, and I was particularly happy to go to this one because my great grand parents and great uncles and aunts are buried there, too but I could not visit them because they were very far from the Rebbe’s memorial. I first encountered the Rebbe through a quote that I committed to memory because it spoke to me at a time of disillusionment. The Rebbe said “Judaism is like a ladder with 613 rungs on it. Do not consider yourself a good or bad Jew based on where you are standing on the ladder, but whether you are ascending or descending.” At that moment, I was standing still on the ladder, and that piece of wisdom gave me permission to take a breath and not feel badly about where I was standing or about my inaction. Ultimately, I’ve been climbing, although from time to time, for the sake of “Shalom Bayit,” my feet have slipped a rung or two.
According to Mendy, this place is the holiest spot for Jews in America because two Rebbes are buried there side by side. Woman are buried separately from their husbands which was a surprise to me.
The first stop is a large hall were people are writing letters to the Rebbe asking for advice or inspiration. These letters are taken to the grave, read, torn, and tossed on this large open area where the Rebbes are buried. It’s very like going to the Wall in Jerusalem, writing your prayer on a piece of paper, and putting it into the wall. I asked for the strength to deal with some personal issues. In fact, the only prayer I ever utter is the one that asks for strength to get through whatever I have to get through. Since I’m still here and reasonably sound in mind and body, I believe that this prayer has always been answered. I hit on this prayer because too many others were denied. After writing, you take the prayer and move to the tomb which must be open to the sky. Prior to entry, prayer books are taken and a candle is lit. Through a door is an open court yard and both graves stand side by side. Petitioners stand behind a wall that forms a large square around the graves. I watched my fellow congregants as they prayed, and again, as when I went to the Wall in Jerusalem, I was painfully aware that I was not feeling what they seemed to be feeling and not focused in the way they were focused. But I can honestly say I was happy for them and for all the others there who fervently believed in what they said, and fervently believed that their petitions would be granted. I envy them and their faith, and while I was born into the same belief system as they, I have not internalized the faith the way they have. But long ago I learned that being a good Jew doesn’t mean that your heart has to be in your actions. It’s the actions that ultimately count and perhaps through the actions one might come to a closer feeling for that which is missing. So I continue to act, and attend, and study, and teach, and support and one day, I may come to believe as these people believe. But one thing I do believe is that Judaism will continue as long as there are such people as these who stood with me at the Rebbe’s grave and as long as there are such men as Mendy who can lead them and the straggling wannabes such as myself.
Afterwards, we got on our limo bus and went to Crown Heights, Brooklyn. This is were Mendy grew up as a child and where he had the honor of knowing the Rebbe. For me, there was some nostalgia, because as a child growing up in the ‘40's, I frequently visited my great grandfather who lived with my great uncle and aunt on Crown Street. Those memories conjured up are those of a family sitting in the living room around a radio on Sunday listening to Gabriel Heater comment on the news of the war, and then a comedy show like Jack Benny or Burns and Allen. As we walked down the streets, Mendy was greeted by a half dozen or more people he knew and they were all as happy to see him as he was to see them. I imagine that within this conclave, growing up was a good experience. We also had the pleasure of visiting the Rebbe’s office on Eastern Parkway and learning more about his life. We also visited the house of study where he taught and I was privileged watched the hundreds of young men in intense debate with one another as they sat opposite one another over a text of Talmud. It was a beautiful thing to see and hear, and I rejoiced in their being and was enormously proud to share the same faith as these young men. It was a wonderful day.
April 24, 2010
Parsha Acharei Mot - Kedoshim
There were two parshahs read this Shabbat: one continued with the excruciating and picayune laws of the Temple sacrifice, and the other dealt with the sublime laws of the Holiness Code that gave Western Civilization many of its values and its right to call itself civilized. I suspect Mendy does not revel in the sacrificial laws, so he spoke about an issue surrounding them in ancient Israel that seems to have caused a rift in how one perceives religion that is echoing down to this day. The issue dealt with where a certain offering of incense should be made. The traditionalists felt it should be offered within the sanctuary, and those opposing felt it was to be offered where it might be seen by all. Mendy extended this conflict to those people who look outside of traditional observance and create new traditions to keep up with the trends. These people look without. Mendy takes the traditionalist’s position and urges us to look within or to what has always been as the true path. At least, I think this is what he was saying. But I don’t think it is as simple as all that. For example, traditionalists forbid riding in a car on the Sabbath. Yet if I or many others in Mendy’s congregation only looked to tradition, we would not be able to attend services. I do not think our absence because we could not ride would be of benefit to anyone. I think the congregation and Judaism are better served with our attendance despite the tradition. And so, with a wafture of his hand, Mendy also dismissed the Conservative, the Reform, the Reconstructionist, and the Renewal Movements in Judaism as well as perhaps a dozen or so rabbis, Jewish philosophers, and even secularists who looked at the world and did conclude that some religious traditions needed to be adapted to the technological and industrialized world in which we live. I’m not willing to summarily dismiss anything that is not Orthodoxy. Certainly Orthodoxy does have its place, and the other divisions of Judaism have an authenticity of their own. I think the world is a better place because they, too, exist. I won’t go into detail, but I will only say that Israel could not exist without the support of the non-Orthodox.
I listened attentively, and since I have no particular "truth" that must be defended, I was not put off by Mendy's parochialism.
The second parshah read dealt with Levitical laws that, for the first time in recorded history, teach and demand decent behavior in dealing with one another. Laws such as “You shall not stand idly by upon the blood of your neighbor” is the first law to legislate assisting someone in danger. “You shall have a just weight and a just measure” legislates honesty in business. And there are dozens of others. But Mendy chose the “golden rule” to comment on: “Love thy neighbor as thy self,” or as Hillel put it, “That which is hateful to you, do not do to another.” Mendy asked if there was anyone in the congregation who “loved his neighbor?” and I foolishly raised my hand. More about that later.
First, I have to tell you that Judaism is a faith that does not set you up to fail. It says “love you neighbor,” not “love everybody,” and it doesn’t ask that because it recognized that it is impossible to love everybody because there are some disgusting human beings out there. So loving your neighbor becomes something manageable, especially if your neighbor is a real putz. It’s difficult loving such a person, but the Torah demands that you do it. In this interpretation, loving is not a broad concept where you can conceptually love everyone and never really have to love anyone in reality. The Torah demands that you love in reality, even the putz neighbor for the sake of harmony in the community. So you can see that my interpretation of “loving one’s neighbor” is different from Mendy’s. It’s complex. For me it means not showing your animosity if you have any, or treating your neighbor rudely even if he or she deserves it. Sometimes that’s not easy to do as it is not easy to “love.” But The Ethics of the Fathers wisely supports this attitude by mandating that we greet everyone cheerfully, and we let every man's honor be as dear to us as our own." We don’t have to love them. While the Torah mandates that we love, we must interpret love as, along with other things, treating another with respect or being honest in our dealings with them.
I was the only one in the congregation who foolishly raised his hand when asked if anyone loved his neighbor, but when others think about loving, they may be thinking things different from what I’m thinking. Mendy asked a general question about loving the “black hat” kids visiting, and as I looked at them, I could honestly say that I did have a great affection for them; perhaps love. I do believe that we are one great family, and they are part of mine. This Kal Yisroel concept has sustained us through the centuries, and while it is not exactly “love” it is definitely a strong affection for strangers simply because they share your faith, your history, your value system, and your dreams of what the world might be. There are different kinds of love. For example, David described his love for Jonathan as a love that surpasses the love a man has for a woman. This was a “platonic love,” a love between friends. I have felt this love for certain friends and for certain students. There is the love a man has for his spouse which is a romantic and sexual love which is again different from the love he has for his children which is based on nurturing, protecting and ego. I’ll give one last example. Mendy, like myself, is an “acquired taste,” and in the years that I have had the pleasure of listing to him and learning from him, I have developed a deep affection for him which is platonic and yet, because I am old enough to be his father, is also nurturing, protective, and respectful. I can say in all honesty that where he is concerned, I do “love my neighbor.” The word “love” in Leviticus must be open to interpretation.
I agree with Mendy that “loving everyone” is a difficult thing to do, but I don’t see the commandment as asking us to do that. And beyond this, just to get psychological, the word “love” must be interpreted because there are self-hating people out there who are very destructive, and to “love your neighbor as yourself” if you are one of those self- haters, can lead to serious consequences. If you do not see yourself as loving or lovable, it’s hard to see others in that way.
May 1, 2010
Parsha Emor
Mendy began by talking about counting the omer which I think may be shafts of wheat. It is counted daily between Passover (when we left Egypt,) and Shavuot (when we received the Ten Commandments and the Torah.) Why this is counted, I haven’t a clue, but the Torah mandates it be counted for seven weeks. It also specifies 49 days which is also seven weeks. So why doe the Torah make the distinction? It seems redundant. But the clarification made sense. The interpretation relates to how we see people and groups. Seven weeks is a broad overview that would be similar to a view of all the people, and the 49 days is to remind us that the seven weeks are made up of individuals who must be respected for who they are. Mendy expanded on this by referencing the discussion we had last week about loving your neighbor. He also spoke about another holiday called Lag Bomer where the deaths of many thousands of Rabbi Akiva’s students are remembered. It seems that Akiva’s primary mandate to his students was that they were to love one another, and the legend holds that a plague broke out among them because they were contemptuous and disrespectful of one another. So loving was again the topic, and Mendy reinforced the idea that you can love someone and yet not like them. Certainly, there were plenty of examples, especially when it came to family. Someone in the congregation suggested that love is an emotion and liking is a rational decision. We love our families because they are ours despite the fact that they have behaviors and qualities we do not like. But friends are people we choose because of certain qualities, and friends become dearer than family on certain levels. I would sooner be with my friends than be with certain members of my family.
Mendy also spoke about the tradition of shooting arrows at this holiday, because the bow and perhaps the arch of the arrow in the air reminds us the rainbow in the sky. I think the connection was to the holiday when the students died of a heaven sent plague. Perhaps the tradition is also a reminder to G od that He promised never to destroy mankind again, and the death of so many students seemed to indicate that He might have forgotten.
Sometime during his desultory comments, Mendy bemoaned the fact that we are losing our traditions or “yiddishkeit” and just how quickly this can happen. This reminded me of the bread story in my family. When I was a child, there was always bread for each meal on my mother’s table. Whether the bread was eaten or not, it was there. I also recall that there was always bread on my bubba’s table, but I also remember that no body ate until my zeydeh took a piece of bread, mumbled something I couldn’t hear, and ate it. Years later I recognized that my zeydeh was making a blessing over the bread, but what got translated to my home was the bread missing the blessing. So in one generation, the connection to thanking G od for the bread was lost but the symbol remained with out explanation. And that’s how G od and observance slipped away for this second generation American.
May 8, 2010
Parsha Behar-Bechukotai
This past Shabbat, Mendy started teaching again from The Ethics of the Fathers or the Pirkei Avos. It’s a small section of Talmud that recorded for posterity special comments made by the rabbis of the period. I like this book because it establishes almost a personal relationship between the reader and those wise men who lived centuries ago. They speak a timeless wisdom, and the sage suggestions for human behavior comes more in the form of a personal conversation with a mentor than commandments from an all powerful deity. I’m glad that that time for teaching from this book is back.
Mendy began with chapter 5, verse 19 where the rabbi said that “An love that depends on a specific cause, when that cause is gone, the love is gone; but if it does not depend on a specific cause, it will never cease.” Also, “Any dispute that is for the sake of Heaven will have a constructive out come; but one that is not for the sake of Heaven will not have a constructive outcome.” The wisdom is clear. If that which is superficial is the foundation of a romantic relationship, when time takes its toll and that aspect of the person is gone, the love may also go. For a relationship to last, there must be something deeper and lasting, something with permanence such as a particular quality that attracts that will always remain. Those inner qualities that sustain a relationship are those that one can call upon when there is stress in the relationship. While not specifically linked to relationships, the second quote dealing with “arguments for the sake of heaven,” might also teach something to a couple. If “heaven” can substitute for “marriage,” than any argument between a man and wife that is ultimately for the sake of the marriage will have a constructive outcome, but one that is based on ego and self-centeredness will not have a constructive outcome. Ancient wisdom is timeless.
The Torah portion section that Mendy chose to highlight was really interesting even though initially it seemed strange because it dealt with the actual monetary worth of people. It was not a sale price but an offering price. The Torah, especially in Leviticus, speaks of making sacrifices and offerings. So if a person chose to make an offering of his own worth, that price was set. I found setting a dollar amount on a human being a little off putting, but the interpretation that Mendy gave was really unique. Sometimes life is difficult and unfair. Such moments causes us to feel anguish, feel depressed, and to doubt our self-worth. Well, Mendy told us that whenever we are in such a place, (what we might think of as our personal Egypt,) we are always to remember that the Torah lets us know that we do have value. I think there may be a missing step that I don’t recall where we are to leap over the monetary price put on us and go to our spiritual value. I guess it is something of a comfort knowing that at my most depressed and worthless moments, I am still worth at lest several silver schekles.
May 15, 2010
Parsha Bamidbar
Mendy opened his talk with Chapter 6, verse 9 of the Ethics of the Fathers where we are told of an encounter between two men. One man is a Rabbi who comes from a devoutly religious and observant place of Torah, and the other man is rich and powerful. This man offers the Rabbi fantastic wealth if he will come and live in his town, but the Rabbi refuses saying that no amount of money could entice him away from his supportive, emotionally safe, and observant community. I personally think the Rabbi should have gone because he might have taken the opportunity to bring Torah to those people who may have been floundering. After all, that the philosophy of Chabad, and that’s what Mendy did. Mendy made mention of his own odyssey, his options of going to Jerusalem, Ukraine, or Cherry Hill. He rejected the Jerusalem appointment because it was a paid position, and he felt that if he were being paid, he would not work as hard. I have a feeling that he imagined that by taking that position, he thought he might be “bringing coals to Newcastle.” So Mendy, without any seed money or any financial backing from Chabad, came down here to bring Torah and “yiddishkeit” to people who may or may not have known that they were yearning for spirituality and a particular way of life. Certainly, I am glad he made that decision. While I am grateful that I’ve been with M’kor Shalom for 26 years, I am grateful for finding Chabad and Mendy. He praised the congregation for becoming his family away from Brooklyn, and he expressed his delight in how members of his congregation were also friends with one another outside of the building. While Mendy praises the kind, supportive, and generous people of the community he created, I believe he is also to be praised for his menchlichkeit. And beyond his ethos, I praise him for his incisive mind, his brilliance as a teacher and speaker, and his easy going and good sense of humor. I imagine he is wonderful friend to those to whom he has personally opened up his heart.
Today we started the Book of Numbers. You recall that Leviticus tediously listed techniques to be used in sacrifices, where Numbers tediously gives you lists of people. So you have to look beyond just the lists for wisdom. This book also lays out the logistics of where each of the tribes is to set up its tents, and all is in relationship to the Tabernacle. One important point that Mendy made had to do with neighbors. Good neighbors are a good influence, and bad neighbors are a bad influence. Cited were the tribes of Issacar, Zebulin, and Korah. The tribe of Issacar were scholars, and the tribe of Zebulin were business men. The lived side by side. Zebulin supported Issacar and both reaped the benefits of each other’s contribution. Korah led the rebellion against Moses, and his neighbors followed him and were also destroyed. Robert Frost, the great American poet, wrote in Mending Wall that “Good fences make good neighbors.” I disagree because if you are good, and he is not and there is a wall between you, how will you ever influence him? That’s the message of the Torah.
I was thinking about the friends I am blessed with and how we are all decent, and supportive people who look for opportunities to be with one another. I also thought about the influence of friends on children, and how a child involved with bad friends can influence a normally good child’s behavior. Parents have to be very careful about who their own children’s friends are. (But I digress.) I couldn’t help but wonder about the lives and personalities of all those people who were counted, and I fantasized about from which tribe I might be descended. I know there is a direct line that I am on that stretches back to the Exodus. Perhaps I am in the line of Issacar because I had the potential to be somewhat scholarly, but I also like the idea of being descended from Asher because I do like “to feast on dainties.” But then again, I might be descended from Judah because my bubba treated me like I was the Messiah, and my mother expected me to be him. According to tradition, all these questions will be answered when the real Messiah comes. I hope I’ve done what I was supposed to do. (But I digress.)
I think the purpose of counting each person and recording the name of each person not only says that they existed, but makes that existence special. Last week’s reading where we learned of the monetary value of each person’s individual worth, introduced the concept of an individual’s worth to civilization. The census reinforces this concept. Everyone was counted that means everyone was important. No one person because of yichas (pedigree), counted more than that person who had no pedigree. It was a kind of leveler for the society. It’s like going into a steam room. Men sit there wrapped in towels, and you don’t know who is wealthy and who is poor. Even in the tedium of recounting the names in the census there is some piece of wisdom. I’m starting to see the hidden wisdom locked within the Torah thanks to Mendy. Mendy shared with us that this Sabbath was his birthday. He’s forty-two. It’s hard to believe that I have children older than he. But age does not matter. Mendy carries wisdom; the wisdom of our ancestors. He has devoted his life to studying this wisdom and is here to share it with me and with others. For this, blessing should be showered upon him and his family. He is a blessing in my life, and I wish him good health and a good life for one hundred and twenty years. Happy Birthday, Mendy!
May 22, 2010
Parsha Nasso
Shavuot is one of the three pilgrimage holidays mandated in the Torah. While it is a harvest festival, it also commemorates the giving of the Torah and the moral law embodied in the Ten Commandments which are read in synagogues around the world. Tradition teaches that prior to the giving of the Torah, the Torah existed and portions of it were known by the patriarchs and matriarchs. But these laws, as tradition says, were only on loan to us. It was a Mt. Sinai, that the full Torah was given to us with the expectation that we would take this guide book and live according to its mandates. Of course, once something becomes yours, you may do with it as you like, and that means interpreting what these laws mean and how they might be implemented. Jewish people though out time have given themselves permission to interpret, and in many instances have formed different divisions. So understanding that this book is ours to interpret, we have created the Orthodox, the Reform, the Conservative, the Reconstructionist, and the Renewal movements in Judaism. Those who created these movements did this with the implicit understanding that this Torah was theirs, and their pathway through this Torah to G od was a valid one. Personally, I do not think one division is more authentic than another. Each group seeks a pathway and a relationship with G od as well as a means of creating decent relationships with other human beings. Yet there remains within the basic tenants of Judaism despite these man made divisions, a concept called Kal Yisroel which states that the Jewish people are all one unit. While Judaism stresses over and over again the importance of the individual, it also states that we are a collective. We pray as a group, not as an individual. We pray in groups, not alone. We are asked to be part of a community and not to separated ourselves from this community. To further impress this on us, we are told that our mourning period is seven days in which the community must gather around the bereaved person with comfort and sustenance. But here is the paradox. If a person dies right before a holiday, the morning process is suspended, and the mourners must enter the holiday in a joyful mood with the rest of the community. It seem to be a contradiction, but the rabbis teach that while the individual is important, the needs of the community take precedent over the needs of the bereaved. The needs of the many superceede the needs of the few or the needs of one.
[A slight digression: Spock said that in Star Trek. It is also noted that Mr. Spock used the hand symbol of the priestly benediction as the Vulcan greeting, and the planets were all members of The Federation. You think that was all coincidence? I think Mr. Spock was Jewish.]
This type of community support of the bereaved is evident at Congregation M’kor Shalom where the entire congregations stands with the mourners when the say the Kaddish. Oddly, no one is invited at Chabad to stand to support the bereaved. The absence of this type of support at such a supportive community as Chabad seems confusing and begs a question. But I digress and back to Shavuot. One tradition of Shavuot is to study through out the night. Mendy invited the congregation to do this and they did till four in the morning, but I chose not to involve myself in this mitzvah at least for this year. But wanting to experience the tradition of study, I decided to attend the study session at Congregation M’kor Shalom which was light on the time set aside for this tradition, but still meaningful. Cantor Hockman was there with her guitar along with the Rabbi Schwartz and Rabbi Frankle. We sat in a circle in the chapel, and focused on six lines from the Ethics of the Fathers, a section of the Talumud that recorded rabbinic wisdom. First, cantor Hockman led us in singing the songs that were composed for each of the following teachings, and the rabbis expounded on the wisdom of the teachings. The teachings are: 1.- “The world stand on three things: On Torah, on worship, and on acts of loving kindness.” 2.- Get yourself a teacher; acquire a friend to study with you, and let your house be a meeting place for the wise.” 3.- In a place where there are no men, strive to be a man.” 4.- It is not your duty to complete the work, but neither are you freed to desist from it. 5.- “Who is wise? Those who learn from all people. Who are strong? Those who control their impulses. Who is rich? Those who are happy with what they have.” 6.- One performed mitzvah leads to another. One sin leads to another. To be righteous is very good.”
All this is very good advice on how to live a decent life with good relationships, and I enjoy the Ethics of the Fathers because it is an intimate and accessible book. The rabbis alternated in their comments on each, but there was no invitation to discuss each, though we were invited to participate in guided meditation. For example, for number two, we were asked to picture in our minds a person who taught us and guided us at some point in our lives. This was followed by a series of statements that took us further and further into our relationship with that person. I found this difficult because some of the questions were framed in such a way that to me it seemed we were being asked to conjure up an idealized person, and every one of the people who entered my mind was dismissed because they were in some way flawed. So I kept changing people looking for someone without flaws, and realized that prior to this exercise, we should have been given permission to think about people who were not perfect mainly because no one is or has ever been. During one of the commentaries, one rabbi spoke about our good and our evil inclination, and how they war within us. After the session, I reminded the rabbi that in another place in the Talumud it says “That without the evil inclination, a man would never build a house or have a child.” It seems to me that this was contradictory, but we know that the Talmud is a record of different opinions and perceptions. My thoughts on this is that the evil inclination is really referring to the human ego. To have a child is to project your genes into the future. That is egotistical. To build a home to house your stuff is also egotistical. It says “Look at my home and look at my stuff and look at me.” Our stuff is a reflection of ourselves. Very egotistical. And there is absolutely nothing wrong with this. There would be no improvements in the world without the ego which is a great motivator. But when a person’s ego becomes so overblown that it becomes detrimental to others, it is then we can call it the evil inclination.
The following day, I went to Chabad to hear the Torah portion where the Ten Commandment are read. It is a very dramatic reading, and Mendy asked us each to close our eyes and imagine that we were actually there. There is a wonderful midrash that all Jewish souls that lived then and were to be born were actually at Mt. Sinai when the Revelation took place. (This midrash is supported today by an on line Jewish dating service called “seenyouatsinai.com). Judaism is the only faith were the revelation was given not to one single person as it was with Islam’s Mohamad, or with the Mormon’s Joseph Smith, or with Christianity’s Saints Peter and later, John. In Judaism, it was given to all the people at once. We are taught that we were present either in body or in spirit and saw the mountain, the fire, and the lightening. We heard the thunder, and felt the wind. We experienced directly the presence of G od. Mendy spoke of the three holidays were everyone was commanded to go up to the Temple in Jerusalem to make his or her offering. These were Succoth, Passover, and Shavuot. To commemorate Succoth, we are asked to build a little hut and eat in it, and to commemorate the Passover, we are asked to have a festive meal and explain the symbols. But for Shavuot, the great holiday when we receive the Torah and the moral law, there are no symbols and no home service to observe. Last year, Mendy taught that there are no symbols because they are a distraction from what is really important in this holiday which is to focus on one another. (I bet he’d be surprised to know that one of his congregants actually remembered what he said a year ago.) As I looked around, I again understood what he meant by focusing on others. So I focused on the people around me, and this is what I saw. Each Shabbat at Chabad there are at least four or five little kids running around and several infants and toddlers being held by their dads. Sometimes, I cannot help but watch them and smile as they run through or play with the curtains, or slide a toy along the carpet. They seem so comfortable with the sights and sounds of the service, and as they grow up, these sights and sounds will be as normal to them as will be their breathing. And whenever there is a major holiday, Mendy’s or Denie’s family come to visit, and that raises the number of children running around to maybe ten. They are all adorable and I delight in the way they way they climb on their bearded fathers or climb onto the readers platform to get a closer look at what’s going on. [I have no recollection of going to shul with my father because he did not go, but I do recall as a small child standing under my zeydeh’s tallis, holding on to his leg and playing with the fringes. The tallis I wear now was his, and in this way he is always close to me.] So I delight in the sight of men with children on their laps, or under their tallis’ for a blessing. Mendy’s father-in-law, a slight man with a beautiful long white beard, had the pleasure of listening to two of his grand sons chant the priestly blessings. Mendy’s eldest son, Lazer, led the group of Kohannim and his cousin, Berl, who couldn’t have been more than five, chanted from under his dad’s prayer shawl with his high pitched full voice that filled the sanctuary with his total enthusiasm and his total soul. I couldn’t help laugh out loud at this marvelous little boy, and I couldn’t help but imagine the sage with the long white beard just filled with the joy and pride one has knowing that something that he values greatly will be carried on by these grandsons and others. As I focus on what was going on around me, I enter into a silent relationships with these people, and I smile that they and I are part of this great family that stretches back 3500 years. I don’t recall if it were Mendy or Rabbi Schwartz who spoke about the line from the Ethics of the Fathers that related: “Who is happy? He who rejoices in his own portion.” Though Mendy didn’t say anything specific about any on of the Ten Commandments chanted, I connected this saying with the last commandment which states: “You Shall Not Covet.” This particular commandment should have a strong focus because to my mind, stealing, murder, and adultery may all be the result of coveting. When you covet your neighbor’s wife as King David did, you are led to commit adultery. And poor Uriah, upon David’s orders was put into a place that guaranteed he would be killed. So coveting also led to murder. Somewhere I recall a story about another King, possibly Ahab, who coveted someone’s vineyard and that property owner was murdered for his land. People who think they are more entitled than others because of position or wealth, along with everyone else are all people who have to be warned about coveting. I do not recall the connection, but Mendy told a story about a Russian soldier billeted in the home of an old Jewish couple on Shavuot. It turned out that he had been abducted as a child and raised in the army. During the dinner and the ritual, this entitled persons suddenly began to recall distant memories and he rediscovered that he was born a Jew. Such a story exist in my own family. My maternal great grandfather, Berl Wexler, was taken as a child and impressed into the Russian army for twenty-five years. From the few stories I’ve heard, he was not a happy or kind man. Chapter 4 of my first novel, Consider My Servant, describes his ordeal in detail. This Shabbat, Mendy used a quote that went something like this: “The best way to not to be good is to strive to be perfect.” I don’t think I’m quoting correctly, but the essence of his comments following it was that when you strive for perfection, you are so focused on your goal, you may not see what is needed by those around you, so you do nothing that is good for them. Happily, I shall never have that problem, since long ago I learned that no one could be perfect, and I am sustained in this belief because even those revered men and women who peopled the Bible, the Prophets, and the Talmud were not. Perfection was never an issue for me.
May 30, 2010
Parsha Beha’alotcha
Mendy introduced his talk by reminding us that among us and among our people, there are some who overtly demonstrate their devotion to ritual and to charity, and then go out into the world and steal from others. For me, this inconsistency or better, overt hypocrisy, demonstrates that those who pray at one moment and steal the next, have not really incorporated into their core beings the true meaning of the Torah, namely, that the wisdom found in the Torah should act as a consistent guide to one’s behavior. There are commandments that sanctify the relationship between man and G od, and commandments that sanctify the relationship between people. While this person may believe that his or her ritualistic purity pleases G od, they obviously do not see that their relationships with others disappoints the very same G od they spend time trying to please. This disconnect between being a decent human being and observance is a tragic mistake. Such people seem not to care that they are breaking the “don’t steal” commandment as well as the one that forbids us to take G od’s name in vain. What I mean is this: People who wrap themselves in a tallis, pray three times a day, and then go out and prey on the citizenry either by theft, adultery, coveting, or murder are giving G od a bad name. Observant Jews are seen by all, and come to be the overt face of Judaism. Such people are obligated to behave well, because by their dress and actions they are saying “Look at me. I’m a Jew.” When such people behave despicably, they provide our distractors with ammunition to be used against us. Such a person brings shame and betrayal to Kal Yisroel. Personally, I would rather live next door to a righteous Jew who is not particularly observant, then next to a seemingly devout Jew who has missed the point of his faith.
Mendy tied his introductory remarks into the parsha of the Torah we were about to read by making reference to three items that were to be housed in the Tabernacle. G od specifically mandates how these three items are to be made, and these were the seven branched gold menorah, the silver trumpets, and the golden male and female cherubim that were to be placed on top of the holy Ark of the Covenant. The one mandate for all these disparate items is that each was to be carved from its own single block of metal. After some back and forth, Mendy let us know that the commonality was because they had to symbolize consistency. Thus, in these items there would be no seams and no attachments. Each would be a smooth whole.
Now you may have heard the expression “Consistency is the hobgoblins of little minds,” but the interpretation of the word in the Torah implies a kind of unity, and the fact that these items made of one solid piece of metal was a to be a constant reminder that unity must exist among the people. Mendy gave the example when referring to the cherubim by relating them to children in a home. He said that for children to grow, there needed to be consistency between the parents. The child could not go to one and get an answer that would be different from the other parent. Parents in a divorce situation must never use their power over the children to get over on the spouse. Consistency lets children know the parameters. People were to learn from the solidness of the cherubim that they were to be unified and consistent in their adherence to G od’s laws and raising their children in those laws.
The menorah, the seven branch candle holder, was to symbolize the light of G od and also to remind the people that they would be “a light unto the nations. They reminded us that though a unified people, there would be a continuum of opinions; some to the left and some to the right. That has certainly proven true over the centuries. There is a midrash that tells us that each of the candles on each side burned pointing towards the center flame which is to teach us that though there are differences among us, we are to look to the One Unity that will ground us despite our disputes. Visually, we are to see the unity.
The silver trumpets were to summon the people to gather in joy as a unified entity. As I listened, I could not help but think that the concept of consistency was incomplete. I say this because a person can consistently be a nasty individual. I also thought of Einstein’s definition of insanity: “Doing the same thing over and over again and expecting a different result.” Being consistent is doing the same thing over and over again so it is not always beneficial. So in being consistent in ones actions, must combined actions with integrity. Now the word “integrity” might very well apply to the quality and strength of the metal that was used in the creation of these three items, but as it applies to people, integrity has to do with being honest when dishonesty is beneficial, doing what is right when other choices are more tempting, and valuing the good more than valuing one’s own desires.
June 20, 2010
Parsha Chukat
Mendy started off by saying that he has encountered people who have challenged him as to how he can justify counseling people and their relationship issues when he has no letter credentials after his name. But what he did say is that what he has is knowledge of Torah, and all that is needed for good relationships between and among people can be found there in addition to the laws that govern morality and daily living. He was going to prove his point by talking about the process of establishing good relationships and forgiveness among people through Torah interpretation.
Oddly enough, he did not use the many incidents that could have been a spring board into the topic such as the Abraham, Sarah, Abimelech incident in Genesis, but he used the incident in the desert with the brazen or copper serpent Moses was told to create by G od in order to heal those who had rebelled by once again complaining that Moses had brought them out of Egypt to die in the desert from lack of water and food.
So G od, easily annoyed as He often is, sends, as a punishment, biting serpents and the people once again beg Moses to intercede on their behaves. The underlying theme here that Mendy spoke about had to do with forgiveness. Both G od and Moses have to forgive these stiff necked and complaining people who still have no faith even though the time frame indicates that by this time, the generation that came out of Egypt had passed on.
G od, easy to anger, is also easy to appease, but it is Moses who must learn and teach what true forgiveness is. And that involves investing one’s self and one’s property into healing the relationship. The interpretation is that the copper serpent must be crafted by Moses himself with resources that Moses himself must supply and he does this immediately. Perhaps, like some of us, we might say “Let them suffer just a little more. They deserve it.” But Moses doesn’t say this, and we are not to say this either when we are asked for forgiveness. The message is that we must act and forgive immediately, and it must be sincere. To be sincere, we must invest ourselves and our resources in the forgiving process. Moses symbolically invests himself in the forgiveness process by using his resources and creativity. So by extension, when we are asked to forgive, we must not hesitate, and we must pursue forgiveness as we must pursue justice. Of course, we cannot forgive those who have injured others. Such people must go to the injured and deal with them. Proxy forgiveness such as the absolution of sin by a religious official, is alien to Judaism. Only those who have been injured can forgive the one who has injured them. There is no third party intercession. And there is a process in Judaism relating to asking for forgiveness that demands that the heart not be hardened.
Mendy turned his comment to specifics, and uttered one statement that really resonated with me because it was a statement made to me many years ago by my first wife. She said, and I quote: “I can forgive you, but I can never forget.” I do think that that was one of the crueler things she ever said in a long list of cruelties, and I also think now that it was that statement that made me realize that our marriage could not be saved. In fact, in my second novel, I put that statement into the mouth of my protagonist’s wife, and have him respond in a way that I should have responded and didn’t in real life.
Mendy specifically said that such a statement is a very un-Jewish statement because it is not forgiveness at all but just a dropping of the subject. He also said that such “forgiveness” is never real because the event that cause the statement is brought up over and over again in arguments. It is never forgotten, and therefore there is no forgiveness. Mendy has probably never heard of the concept of “stamp collecting” as it applies to psychological interactions, but bringing up past issues over and over again because they have never really been laid to rest is called “stamp collecting,” and is a term that comes out of Transactional Analysis, a therapeutic model used in understanding transactions in relationships. It works like the old Green Stamps or King Korn Stamps people use to collect in order redeem them for prizes. When you have collected enough stamps, you redeem them in for a gift. Emotional stamps can work the same way. You generate feelings, you store them and if they are good feelings, you redeem them for something that is a treat because you deserve something good. If they are anger stamps, you redeen them on a fight that you perceive is well deserved for all you’ve had to take. If they are depression stamps, you redeem them for a well deserved depression. But the difference with psychological stamps and “green” stamps is that once you redeem these stamps for your gift, you can never use these stamps again. But with psychological stamps, you can use them over and over again, and the more you use them, the more justified you feel for your feelings. A person who “can’t forget” is a person who is a psychological stamp collector and will always feel justified when redeeming his or her stamps.
Forgiveness in Judaism precludes the redemption of negative stamps. If you truly forgive, you must not bring the issue up again unless you are reminding the person that his or her behavior was once forgiven and should not be acted on again. Which brings us to another side of this story.
If you are a person who has done wrong and injured someone, part of your growth as a human being in a relationship is never to choose to perform in such a way that the offending action or statement is made again. That awareness and monitoring of your words and behavior becomes your responsibility if you don’t want a repeat of the problem. If something you said or did was injurious to a relationship, you need to choose not to repeat that again in other circumstances or at another time. If you continue to do so, you must recognize that you have a problem because you are recreating for yourself and the other person a similar situation which will garner a negative reaction. The Torah and commentators such as Rashi, and Rabbis such as Mendy teach such things.
June 27, 2010
Parsha Balak
The parsha this week was about Balik hiring Baalam to curse the Jewish people. Balik knew the Jewish people were under the protection of G od, so a military victory was out of the question. So he employed Baalam, a know spiritualist and alleged sorcerer, to defeat the Hebrews with a curse. But Baalam says that he can only utter what G od tells him to say.
It would seem that Baalam understands that there is a single G od, and this is same G od that the the Jews worship. But as a spiritualist, it seems that Baalam is also in tuned with the negative aspects of the “G od field,” the realm of spiritual energy. His involvement with negative energy is what makes him suspect in Rabbinic literature, and he is condemned for being too eager to curse the people despite his statement that he will say only what G od tells him to say.
At this point in the narrative, there is the story of the talking donkey who sees the angel that Baalam cannot see because of his personal blindness to righteous behavior. Even a supposedly dumb animal can see more than Baalam can see. So the donkey speaks logically to Balaam and Balaam is outraged. At this juncture, Mendy mentioned that there were four levels to creation. The first level was that of the inanimate– rocks, earth, the non-living things. The second level of creation was the trees and plants that live off the earth. The third were the non-sentient animals that lived off of the level of creation beneath them, and the fourth level was the sentient beings who live off the levels below them. I expected Mendy to speak about a fifth level of creation– the level of what we would call miracles such as the mouth of the donkey, the mouth of the earth that swallowed Korah, the well that followed our ancestors in the desert, etc. These were created at the dawn of creation so they would appear as natural events and not miraculous. Perhaps Mendy raised the issue of the four with the intention of mentioning the fifth and just forgot. Otherwise, mentioning the four was irrelevant to the story. Another interesting fact here is that the donkey is stopped by “ha satan” an angelic being whose job is it to stand in the way of people achieving their objectives, especially if the objective is not worthy. This “concept” now represented by an angel, evolves into a proper noun and takes on the form of the accuser as he is in the book of Job. Now he is Satan with a capital “S.” In Judaism, this angelic being is never in contention with G od. As time goes by, this Satan continues to morph into a heavenly being who causes strife among men and who ultimately becomes the Devil of Christianity. The story of Satan is fleshed out in detail in John Milton’s Paradise Lost. Dante’s Inferno advances the imagery of the fallen angel and his minions who are now in contention for the souls of human beings. Satan is depicted in art as a horned and cloven footed creature who is red. Such a depiction is based on the red color of the Egyptian god of the underworld, the Greek god Pan who had goat horns and a cloven hoof, and the horned god of northern Europe who was the god of the religion that existed prior to the advent of Christianity. Satan, in the hands of Christianity, becomes a composite of all the pagan deities Christianity had to confront and conquer.
I apologize for the digression. Now back to the story. Ultimately, Balaam blesses the people with one of the most famous blessings in our liturgy that begins with “How goodly are thy tents of Jacob, thy dwelling places of Israel.” It’s called the ma tovu and opens our prayer service. Mendy said that the Rabbis wrote that the people were deemed worthy of blessing because the tents were set up so the tent openings did not face one another. In this way, one could not see what was going on in another tent. Respect for privacy was given and it seems that that was worthy of blessings. But while privacy was sacrosanct, and whatever was happening was consensual and within the parameters of that which was acceptable, becoming aware of abuse that was going on with a neighbor and not saying anything to rectify it, was a sin. The laws such as “You shall surely rebuke your neighbor, so as not to incur his sin,”and “You shall not stand idly by upon the blood of your neighbor,” are just two of the laws attesting to the fact that being aware of injustice, pain, and abuse carries with it obligations to act.
Since Baalam’s involvement was in the realm of the spiritual because the Hebrews could not be defeated physically, Mendy thought it important to talk about spirituality. The difference he said between spirituality and Godliness is that spirituality connects one with the energies of the universe that are both good and bad, while Godliness is an involvement with positive action and a betterment of the individual condition and of society. One need not be spiritual to be G odly. Mendy seemed to disparage the “spiritual” person if spirituality was all his or her involvement in life. Of what use is the connection with the energy of the universe if you involve yourself with the negative forces? Currently, I am meeting with a group exploring a “spiritual process,” and while I can see it’s value regarding assisting people to create a “sacred space” for themselves, and connecting with the “G od field,” it is a an experience that does not move the world in a positive direction nor make it a better place. I think that if one can connect with the G od field and as a result see what needs to be done to better the world and act on that need, the process is of value. Spirituality is not action, and it’s all about action.
Mendy also shared his response to a memo that came out of the Jewish Community Relations Council now directed by a former student of mine. The memo called for Jewish people to hang out yellow balloons to mark the fourth year of captivity for Gelad Shalit, a young Israeli soldier captured by Hamas and held with out the benefit of the Red Cross or his parents being allowed to visit. Even Iran has allowed the parents of the young people held there to visit, but Shalit gets no such privilege, and no one seems to care. Mendy said that hanging out balloons was only a way for those who did it to feel good and give themselves a sense of well being for having done something when in reality, the act accomplishes absolutely nothing. I fully agree with him. When the murderers took down the Twin Towers, I bought a flag and rode around with it on my car. I flew another from my porch. I felt better because I felt I was doing something to support my country. In reality, it accomplished nothing. A yellow balloon would accomplish the same nothing.
I do believe that we must continue to pressure our government to demand the release of Shalit as a condition for continued support for the Arab Palestinians. To that end, letters will be written. That’s the very least of what I as an individual can do.
Mendy, briefly, also berated PETA for having been instrumental in closing the kosher meat packing plant in the mid-west and disrupting the lives of the workers and the American Jewish community that heavily relies on the kosher products produced there. Now I have to say that PETA is not one of my favorite organizations, but I also have to say that after reading about the situation, PETA was not the real issue. The real issue was that the owner, an Orthodox Jew, was given a prison sentence that was very long when compared with other people who had also defrauded banks so as to line their own pockets. Now I am of the opinion that the plant and owners would never have come under the scrutiny of PETA nor the U.S, Government had they not broken any number of banking laws, safety rules, health rules, violated worker’s right, immigration laws, etc. At the root of this rests the owner’s greed, the alleged unrighteous treatment of workers, and their unwillingness to comply with state and federal laws. I am in full agreement with the Orthodox community that the sentence of 27 years is entirely too long. It is as out of line as was the life sentence meted out to Jonathan Pollack. That said, I could not help but think if the Orthodox community was vociferously defending one of its own because ethnicity to them is more important than justice. Whatever disruption to the lives of the people who depended upon that plant occurred, it occurred because of personal greed on the part of its owner. The sentence should definitely be appealed, and the man deserves jail time
.July 3, 2010
Parsha Pinchas
Mendy’s brother-in-law, a Chabad Rabbi in northern N.J. took the bima to deliver the commentary. He is a very articulate and personable man, with an air of nobility about him.
He initially began by confessing that the portion read today, a portion that deals with the second census and the sacrifices to be brought for each holiday were not particularly engaging, but he pointed to one small aspect which dealt with the sacrifices intendent upon the new moon. It would seem that the translation in English speaks about bringing the sacrifice to G od, but that the Torah uses the word that implies that the sacrifice is brought for G od. It would seem that the Rabbis interpreted this in a way to imply that G od recognizes that He created an imperfect world where there is suffering. This suffering is the result of the inviolate free will we’ve been granted, and the result of people making evil choices that cause pain. We recognize that we, too, are not always righteous and that we, too, cause suffering to other. So the new moon sacrifice is an atonement for G od’s regret as having created an imperfect world, and this same new moon sacrifice is also a statement of our regrets to Him for our complicity in keeping the world imperfect. In short, it seems to be a single sacrifice of simultaneous regret.
BEGINNING OF RANT : I like the interpretation that G od has regrets and does feels our pain. Such behavior makes for a real and more personal G od. Still, it takes a great deal of faith and integrity not to hurl villifications at heaven for the horrendous things that have been brought upon us over the centuries despite the concept that “G od feels our pain.” A lot of good that does us. And though we are promised that a remnant shall always remain, is that concept really compensation for the brutality we have suffered because of our faith? We have looked to an ethical monotheistic G od, we have looked to a law that demands that we pursue justice, we have stayed a unique people, and we have done this in the face of a hostile world and destructive forces. And every day we still get up to hostility. Is this condition due to our not having brought the world to ethical monotheism? Is this all our fault? There are times I want intervention, and I would gladly suspend free will from time to time if that would eliminate the evil that seeks to destroy us in every generation. Besides, it is not our free will that needs to be suspended, but the free will of those who hate us. We pray to G od daily to thwart the intentions of our enemies, and isn’t that a prayer for Divine intervention and theabnegation of free will? If G od is the parent who feels the suffering of his children, how does He decide which one of his children lives and which one dies? Certain people may believe it was a miracle that they survived the Holocaust. Perhaps they are part of the “promised remnant.” But what of the young boy who walked on the death march next to the one who was saved by a miracle? Why wasn’t there intervention for both? And if He is an all omnipotent G od, is free will so important for evil people that G od views it as inviolate as gravity? He certainly interceded directly in the desert when our ancestors exerted their free will and annoyed Him. How many thousands died there because they exerted their free will? Is an inviolate free will belief is a rationalization for G od’s silence?
I would rather believe that G od has absolutely nothing to do with choosing who lives and who dies and the manner in which they do this. Perhaps G od can eek out a little miracle for an individual if that individual happens to catch His attention at that moment. But the really big miracles like the one that created Israel or the one that has enabled Israel to survive, comes from the resolve of certain individuals, the pressure on the powerful, the voting booth, organized marches, money, and large weapon systems. Prayers of intervention are a “cover all bets” attempt at self delusion and waste of breath. I would rather believe that it is best to act like Nachshon who waded into the Sea of Reeds and took his fate into his own hands.
END OF RANT
I was reminded during the talk about a joke about a farmer standing on a hill looking over the straight rows of corn, the rows of vegetables, and the beautiful and lush orchards of fruit that he had planted and tended. A traveler comes over to him looks at the sight below and say, “You should thank G od for all this bounty.” The farmer looks at the man and says, “I do thank G od for the bounty, but you should have seen this place when G od was running it all by himself.” Humanity and G od are partners. G od provides the raw materials, and we create from them. We thank G od for the wine and bread, but there would be no wine and bread without the efforts of mankind. The Rabbi also made references to the Buddhists. To the Buddhists, life is suffering and we are to accept it. That is not the Jewish way. Tikkun Olam, mending the world, is second only to “Be a light unto the nations” as a Jewish mandate and a reason for being. The world cannot become a better place if we accept what is when what is is not good. Our focus must be on improving this world and not worrying about the next. There was more, but I can’t recall what it was.
July 11, 2010
Parsha Matot-Mass’el
Back in the 60's and 70's, there was a poster that proclaimed, “Bloom Where You’re Planted.” I always liked that poster, and I was reminded of it today during Mendy’s talk. The Torah portion began with the tribe of Reuven and Gad requesting that they be allowed to stay on the eastern side of the Jordan River and not cross into the Promised Land because of how perfect the land was for pasturing their large herds of cattle. In terms of livestock, they had the most because these two tribes ate only the manna to honor Moses, and therefore, their cattle increased.
Moses is annoyed at first because he initially sees their request as a denial of the primary objective, and asks them if they expect the other tribes to lay their lives on the line during the conquest without the tribes of Reuven and Gad risking theirs. Reuven and Gad respond that their fighting men will enter the fray and stay until the land has been conquered. Moses acquiesces to this counter offer even though he is still not sure.
His difficulty ultimately is that with these tribes separated from the rest, he feared that they would not continue to be in tune or continue to revere the traditions and laws that had been promulgated in the desert. So Moses sends half the tribe of Joseph’s offspring to settle with them. It seems that the tribe of Manassa had very learned and devout people in it who would be ongoing spiritual lights to these other two tribes.
For Moses, the concept of “holy” from the statement, “Be holy, for I am holy,” was of paramount importance. To be holy means to be separate. As G od is separate from humanity, so man must be separate from his basic animalistic instincts and tendencies. Man must rise above his basic nature, and this can be done when one accepts G od’s law as the center of one’s existence and the guide to one’s behavior. Moses wanted the tribe of Manassa to be among the tribes of Reuven and Gad as a reminder of what their focus needed to be and as a model of holy. To tie everything together, Mendy told the story of a young man who dreamed of going to the Holy Land with the Alta Rebbe maybe two centuries ago. During the trip, the young man fell ill and could not continue. The Rebbe comforted him by telling him to make Israel where he was, or “Bloom Where You’re Planted.” Simply, Israel, in addition to being the other name of Jacob, the title of the entire people, and the name of the land itself, is also a state of being that is revealed through one’s behavior. It is a series of ideas and values that one carries with himself or herself wherever he or she goes. It is never further away than a thought or action. It is always near. I’m sure this is one of the reasons why we have survived all these centuries.
July 18, 2010
Parsha Devarim
Tish’a B’av ends a nine day period of observance that commemorates several nasty events in our history and in the history of the world. Unlike most religions that commemorate events in the lives of their religious figures or of their deities, Judaism commemorates concepts and moments in time. Tish’a B’av asks us to recall the destruction of the two temples (422 BCE and 68 CE respectively), the date that the decree was given that our ancestors would wander in the desert for forty years, the expulsion from Spain, the day WW I began, and if I’m not mistaken, the day the Nazis crushed the Warsaw rebellion.
Mendy pointed out a crucial difference between the thinking about this date between the Chasidim and the rest of the Jewish world. While all observant people will refrain from eating meat or drinking wine during this period, and on the actual day which is the 5th of the Hebrew month of Av will fast for 24 hours, not bathe, and not have marital relations, the Chasidim focus on the joyous thought of the rebuilding of the Third Temple and the coming of the Messiah that ushers in that event. He spoke of the prophet’s warnings of the coming destructions that our ancestors would bring about because their faith and observances had become perfunctory, and because their treatment of one another had become abusive. But Mendy spoke of G od’s unfaltering belief that His people could return to Him and that He would bless them once again. Mendy told a story to reflect this. Once there was a father who had great wealth. He had made for his son a wonderful suit of clothes that the boy put on and wore proudly. But the boy, being a boy, went out to play while wearing the suit and it was ruined and had to be thrown away. But the loving father had another suit made for the boy, and boys being boys, once again went out wearing the suit to play and again it was ruined. The father had a third suit made, but this time he kept it in the closet until his son was mature enough to understand that things of great value should not be treated casually. Of course, this is all a metaphor. The father is G od, the son is the Jewish people, the suits represent the Temples, and the activities of the boy that ruined the suits were those behaviors that were unrighteous and harmful to the spirit of Judaism. G od has created the Third Temple and is holding it for us until we are worthy. When we are worthy, the Messiah will come.
Mendy made reference to some idea that there were no people who could truly focus on prayer, not even the great rabbis. I wasn’t clear on this because there is a legend that there are always 36 totally righteous men living at any one time who keep the world from falling apart. Surely, they must be focused enough. There was also some reference to the coming of Moshiach, and if total focus on prayer is the criteria that will let the Moshiach know that it is time to arrive, then it seems we are being told that Moshiach will never come because we cannot focus totally on prayer. Again, the standard sets everyone up to fail, and it seems not to be the Jewish way. His comment seemed to be reminiscent of something from the Christian bible where people are told that if they had the “faith the size of a mustard seed,” something or other would happen. It seems that in both instances, a standard of perfection is set up that rationalizes why Moshiach has not yet come. I’m not at all clear on the point, and hopefully, prayer itself is not the sole criteria. I’d prefer decent behavior.
July 31, 2010
Parsha Elkev
Prior to Mendy introducing Rabbi Epstein from Sons-of Israel, he mentioned that people often asked him why he so reveres the old rabbis? Why are you always looking to the past? My immediate thinking response was the quote “that if you don’t learn from history, your doomed to repeat it.” But Mendy’s take was the reverse of this negative admonition. Mendy believes that the old rabbis have great wisdom that is built on even older wisdom, and that there is much to learn from these venerable men. He spoke of the Rebbe’s father in law who was banished by the Russian government to a place where he could not teach Torah or study with other Jews. They even would not allow him paper and pen so he might write. So his wife ground up spices and herbs, and he wrote his commentaries in the empty spaces around the texts of the books he was permitted to take with him. Such devotion to the Jewish way of life (Yiddishkite) is admirable and worthy of emulation. I agree. If we do not learn from the lives and history of these rabbis, we would be doomed not to repeat their efforts or values, and so much of what we revere may be lost to us.
The key question that Rabbi Epstein addressed when he was invited up to the bemah to speak was “How do we become what G od wants us to become? We are told that we should imitate G od in our ways. I’m glad it doesn’t insist that we imitate G od in His ways because that would set us up for failure. And we are told in several places in Torah how to do this, and I don’t exactly recall what the Torah says. But I specifically recall what the prophet Micha gleaned from it. Micha writes, “What does the Lord G od want from you but to do justice, love mercy, and walk humbly with your G od.” Long ago I memorized this statement because it resonated within me and is a good guide and they guide my daily behavior although I sometimes have difficulty doing humble. Still, those are three tasks that are doable, and I think that most people have a grasp of what they mean. Sadly, as the rabbi reminded us, there are those who forget these exhortations the moment they leave a religious environment and go out into the world. From where I stand, these are the people who miss the point of Judaism despite their observance. Seeking justice, mercy, and humility is something a Jew is supposed to do 24/7. Sadly, as in other faiths that call for such behavior, it doesn’t always happen.
The fear of G od was another issue, and the rabbi clarified it nicely. He said there is a fear that we are to experience because there are things we must not do and if we do them, we should be afraid of retribution. Examples of these are too numerous to mention, but in the portion read today, Moses points many of them out. Then the rabbi spoke of the fear that is translated also as awe, the awe one feels when one looks out at the universe and experiences that smallness but also experiences the wonder of being part of that smallness and part of whatever plans there are. It reminded me of when I taught that in the process of developing a secular moral conscience, there were those who obeyed the law and did the right thing because they feared being caught and of being punished, yet there were those on the other end of the continuum who do what was right because they recognized that there has to be a social contract among people mutually applicable if we are to survive. Evolving from fear of being caught to a social contract involves developing character and ethics.
Secular humanism relies on the individual’s awareness of the needs of society to grow in goodness. Where as, in developing a religious conscience, there is a powerful force we call G od to whom we ascribe the power of judgement and who is the arbiter of right and wrong. Without this universal authority that is to be both held in fear, and held in awe, no one would be safe. When human beings reject G od’s authority, moral behavior can and often changes from person to person, group to group, and nation to nation. Judaism posits an unchangeable and universal morality. The vision of the Messianic Age where all turn to Israel and recognize the supremacy of G od, is that moment when a universal belief in ethical monotheism will lead all humanity to treat each one decently regardless of religious affiliation, color, orientation, or creed. There was more, but it’s hard to remember everything.
August 8, 2010
Parsha Re’eh
Mendy began his talk by referencing two passages fromThe Song of Songs which is attributed to King Solomon. This is a very sensuous piece of writing, and it is included in our canon because the rabbis interpreted it as the love between G od and the Jewish people. Mendy commented on the meaning of two lines: “I am my beloved’s and my beloved is mine,” and “My beloved is mine and I am his.” The difference between the two has to do with who is acting on whom. In one the interpretation is that man is acting and in the other, G od is acting. If I recall correctly, the expansion of this comment is that in one, I seek out G od to make G od mine, and the other is interpreted to mean that G od seeks me out to make me his. At least that’s how I recall the interpretation but I’m not exactly sure. Mendy was particularly passionate today and spoke even more rapidly than usual. It seemed to be a very important topic to him for personal reasons, and was a very important topic for us, because the high holidays are approaching and this is a time where we are the ones who seek out G od. He mentioned that Rosh Hoshonah was the time when we enter the synagogue on a quest for a relationship with G od. He said that everyone who comes, comes with a longing, but whether you leave having found what you are looking for depends on the effort you will be making. The moment may come when a phrase or even a word glows with the intensity of apprehension. Or it may not come to you at all, but you will return and return again because there is something locked deep within us that cries out for connection with the creator of the universe.
Mendy said that while Rosh Hashonah is the time we search for G od, Passover was the time when G od came searching for us. I never thought of this before, and suddenly becoming aware of such insight is only one of the many reasons why I have chosen to become part of this wonderful community. We did nothing to merit G od taking us out of Egypt after two hundred and ten years of slavery. This is where the rabbis interpreted the line, “My beloved is mine and I am his” as G od saying these people are my beloved people and I am their G od. They did nothing to deserve the blessing. G od chose them to be blessed. Mendy made reference to his own life and how blessed he was to be brought up in his home where G od showered him with blessing after blessing. He did nothing to merit them, and yet they came. He recalled that one of his brothers said, “Mendy was born not only a silver spoon in his mouth, but also on a silver plate.”
It seems as if there are two ways to encounter G od and one is no better than the other. The first is to seek G od out as we do on Rosh Hashonah. The second is to be sought out by G od as we were sought out in Passover. The former is more difficult and I think ultimately more rewarding for the following reason: When you are raised with loving parents, a loving G od, a firm belief in salvation through mitzvot, and in resurrection, faith in G od and love for G od come more easily. Why shouldn’t it. Life is good and your belief is that G od has made is that way. This of course is no guarantee that life will be good. Tzadiks also may be shaken by the “whips and arrows of outrageous fortune,” but the anchor is there even if thoughts and behaviors tend to wander. Mendy claims that it is hard for him to become the Jew he knows he can be. I genuinely believe he really does wrestle with the angels daily, not because he has lost his faith, but because his faith has not allowed him to become the man he wants to be. For those of us who came late to a Judaism that was not composed solely of Eastern European superstitions and a damning G od who watched and waited and then condemned you for any behavior you performed that upset your mother, we have a much more difficult journey than those who were raised by people like Mendy’s folks even if such people feel they have similar growth issues. I know that I made some bad decisions in my life and these decisions took me to dark places. Those decision were based on erroneous conclusions I reached as a child and they informed my life. When I took back my life resolving never to repeat past behaviors and never to involve myself with angry people again, my life began to turn around. Perhaps mixed up in this was this perennial search that I began in my twenties to find that special relationship with my G od. But instead of finding the daily Teyveh dialogue I sought, I’ve concluded that G od manifests himself into the decent people I meet who are loving and helpful friends. His voice is the voice of such people. His voice is Mendy’s voice.
August 14, 2010
Parsha Shoftim
Mendy introduced the parsha of the week by stating that he would talk about a topic probably no one ever spoke about from the bimah. He referenced a particular statement where G od is telling the Israelites what is acceptable in an altar that will hold his sacrifices and what is not. What is acceptable are altars made of dirt or of stones, but what is not acceptable are altars made of a single block of granite, marble, etc. In fact, and this was the point, G od Himself says that he hates such altars. A statement about G od hating is rare in the Torah, and to hate a particular type of altar where sacrifices would be made out of love and sincerity seems odd. So Mendy took us to the metaphoric place where we were better able to understand. A stone altar is composed of many different pieces of rock, and each rock by itself has its own individuality. The Jewish people are one people yet each is very different and brings to his or her worship unique perspectives, hopes, and aspirations. We are taught that G od loves the diversity. I recall other talks where this theme is echoed. When we were at the Sea of Reeds, midrash tells us that there were twelve paths through the water to accentuate the respect for the individuality of each tribe, but to reinforce that, the sole focus was on getting to dry land and that G od was saving us. Later, when the tabernacle was set up in the desert, each tribe was grouped so as their individuality as a tribe would be recognized, but their focus was on the Tent of Meeting. And so too with the altars. The diversity of the people is to be symbolically honored at the same time that altar is used to honor G od. Diversity with a single purpose. Pagan altars on the other hand, were constructed of a single piece of stone, and everyone was bound to worship the god in a lock stepped manner. There was no respect for the individual. Not so in worship of our G od. Each of us brings to our worship a particular uniqueness and a particular experience that colors that worship. Mendy spoke of those who come to shul to express gratitude, and of those who come to shul to express anger. He spoke of those who come to shul to question, and he spoke of those who come to shul to vent their frustrations. All come to shul and all offer up hearts that rejoice at one end of the continuum and weep at the other. His modesty did not permit him to say that there are those of us who come to shul to listen to him and draw closer to G od and meaning through what he teaches. And yet I cannot help but think that as an individual, each of us must find a pathway to a relationship with G od. Often though, that pathway is not the same pathway as the Orthodox path, and while those of us who are not Orthodox have given ourselves permission as a valued individual to seek G od in our own way, the Orthodox have no problem in telling us that we are just plain wrong. So how does that square with the alter concept? If G od loves the diversity, and the focus is all the same, who is to say that one path is more authentic than another if at the end of that path is that special relationship? It’s something to think about. I believe Chabad and I are on the same page when it comes to inviting Jews who are on different paths in. That said, I am also of the opinion that Chabad believes that its path is the only true path as do all the other Orthodox sects. At least I have never heard a Chabadnick use the words “halul Hashem” when referring to another Jew, and that to my mind makes them worthy of my involvement with them.
Mendy then told us of a recent experience he had up in the Catskills waiting for a pizza. A young man asked him where he was from, and when he said Cherry Hill, the young man said, “Thats the place where the rabbi murdered his wife.” So Mendy’s identity became bound up with that terrible event almost twenty years ago. Later, another couple came in and after some small talk, Mendy heard the husband tell his wife that Mendy’s claim to fame was that he was the study partner of the rabbi who became the Chief Chabad Rabbi of St. Petersburg. So in the space of moments, Mendy lost his identity to a notorious moment in his township’s history, and to a rabbi who receives the movers and shakers of the world at his synagogue and home in Russia. Mendy then introduced this rabbi with other glowing terms about his life, his brilliance, and his wonderful family, and I cannot recall a word this man said. I asked three other congregants at lunch if they could recall what the guest rabbi spoke of because I wanted to comment on it, but they also could not. Am I the only person who actually tries to remember what rabbis say from the bimah?
I have heard Mendy’s brothers speak from the bimah, and I have heard guest rabbis speak from the bimah. Thus far, none of them has matched Mendy for clarity of imagery, for staying on focus (except when Shaul asks a question), or the passion of his belief in what he is saying. Mendy Mangel can hold his own on any bimah in the world, or in any other venue in which he might find himself.
We are still in Deuteronomy, and I found a statement that I found rather interesting. Paganism was the major problem confronting our ancestors when they entered the land of Canaan, and the expressed danger was that there might be Israelites who would fall under the influence of paganism and turn away from G od. The tendency was there. So there is written a law that says, “You shall burn the evil out of your midst.” I couldn’t help but recall the line from the Christian testament that puts into the mouth of Jesus the words, “Resist not evil, but if someone strike you on one cheek, turn to him the other.” This, I believe, is an unreasonable expectation for any human being, and points out one of the key differences between Judaism and Christianity. Christianity is saying that the thing to do is to allow evil to fester and eventually, your goodness will bring the evil person to see that goodness and passivism is the correct path.* Perhaps this was true for the saints, but I have never seen a Christian or a nation claiming to be Christian, turn the other cheek when confronted by an adversary. It’s an impossible expectation and sets one up to feel hypocritical if you are a serious believer in you faith when you act to defend yourself. Judaism teaches that if you recognize evil, you destroy it before it begins to fester and reaches a critical mass where it begins to spread. It’s almost as if the Left, the Presbyterians, and the Methodists who periodically call for boycotts against Israel and condemn Israel for protecting herself, are expecting the Jews to be the Christians that they themselves have chosen not to be.*Gandi and Mandela were successful because the British who were involved in both India and South Africa were civilized people who responded to the criticism of the world. Had the world not pressured them, they would have done nothing. Their response did not arise out of Christian good will. The reasons the Nazis were able to murder Jews with impunity was that the Christian world did not care enough to condemn the atrocities. In fact, many participated. World War II did not break out to save the Jews.That’s why when I see the main stream Protestant communities supporting the terrorists, I wonder how they can do this again.
August 21, 2010
Parsha Ki Teitzei
Mendy and his wife were at an international conference this Shabbat, and the very tall rabbi from Israel took to the bimah to deliver the drush. When I say tall, I mean possibly six seven or eight. In fact, I would go so far as to suggest that he is the tallest rabbi in the Lubavitchah movement if not the tallest Chasid in the world. This is the first time I heard him speak from the podium, and he is well spoken and interesting. He has a slight accent.
His first focus was on a line in Deuteronomy which states that a person who hires another man must pay his worker at the end of the day. One congregant could not understand why such a law was in the Torah because he didn’t comprehend that in a subsistence and agricultural economy, people lived hand to mouth and relied on such payment for daily food and shelter. But the rabbi skillfully made the connection to us today by asking us to consider ourselves as workers and G od as the employer. As an employer, G od pays us daily with the miracle of life etc. etc. He also spoke about the differences between workers and contractors. While individual Jews may be the laborers in “G od’s vineyard,” the people as a group have been contracted by G od, and their job is to make the world a better place and to teach the world of ethical monotheism by modeling righteous behavior in G od’s name. Contractors are not paid until the whole job is done to satisfaction. While we have done this to some extent, we have not received our “payment” because the job has not been completed.
I personally have a problem with that kind of rationalization because I detect in this the “mustard seed” concept in the Christian Testament that claims that if a person had the faith the size of a mustard seed, the Kingdom of G od or something like that would be brought about. Again, I think statements like this and the idea that we have not completed the job are both statements that rationalize the fact that the Messiah has not come and will not come until some unknown standard of human behavior is reach to some mysterious level. It generates feeling of failure which may be well deserved.
So why do bad things happen to good people remains a question, and the only honest answer for me is that we do not know. Somewhere along, a congregant moved the talk to the concept of rewards and punishments. The rabbi spoke of some people who blame the terrible things that go on in the world on the fact G od is displeased with how we act. To Christians, this is known as “the wages of sin.” I would hope that most Jews reject the allegation that bad things happen because G od is displeased, and to say that Katrina happened because of our acceptance of homosexuality or that the Holocaust happened because people didn’t light enough candles on the Sabbath, or that the earthquake in Haiti happened because whatever, is ludicrous and fallacious. Hurricanes and earthquakes are non-sentient natural disasters, and the Holocaust was the result of evil people being allowed to run amok while the world stood by in silent complacency and therefore, complicity. The rabbi, trying to redirect the conversation, challenged us to recall some moment in our lives when G od’s hand was visible and we saw “our payment.” Had he asked for examples, he might have better re-focused the discussion, but congregants insisted on pursuing the “bad things happening to good people” line, and raised the idea regarding those punishments that seemingly have no relationship to the decency of the individual being punished. And if we did know, the rabbi pointed out, we might not do anything to support someone who is sick or in pain because we are sure that this was a punishment from G od and we should not interfere. In the Hindu and Buddhist faith, this is called “Karma.” Karma is the results of what you have done in a past life or in this life, and to interfere is to be disrupting the process of the person’s spiritual quest for enlightenment and freedom. This is definitely not a Jewish concept since we are obligated to help. The world is not made better if you don’t help.
In thinking about this subject, I’ve not only concluded that we don’t know why bad things happen to good people, I’ve also concluded that suffering has little to do with G od. We have suffered because evil people have caused us to suffer, and the only promise that G od made that has been consistently kept is that a remnant will be saved. Did good people die when Assyria attacked and dispersed the tribes? Yes, and a remnant was saved. Many good people died when Babylon attacked and carried off the remnant that ultimately gave us the Babylonian Talmud. A remnant survived the Romans, the Inquisition, the Chilmineki Massacres, the Pogroms, and The Holocaust. Righteous people get sick, die, and are murdered. But there is a remnant and the promise of the people’s survival is kept. We have never been promised that we shall survive as individuals but as a people. I struggle with this concept because that logical extension of this train of thought is that prayers of intervention are of little value. In fact, the only prayer that I pray that has been consistently answered positively is addressed to Ayn Sof where I request the cosmic energy to deal successfully with my problems. In my most desperate moments when I did call upon G od to save the lives of young people I have love, the prayer was denied and both of them died. So while I continue to have a belief system, I have learned not to have any expectation of G od’s intercession, and without a belief in intercession, I can continue to believe in Ayn Sof, my creative, universal energy that moves through all things.
The remnant at Chabad have a faith and intensity of prayer I wish I had. In some ways I envy it and in all ways I honor it. . I looked around the room at the remnant praying at Chabad. I am grateful and happy to be part of this fellowship.
His first focus was on a line in Deuteronomy which states that a person who hires another man must pay his worker at the end of the day. One congregant could not understand why such a law was in the Torah because he didn’t comprehend that in a subsistence and agricultural economy, people lived hand to mouth and relied on such payment for daily food and shelter. But the rabbi skillfully made the connection to us today by asking us to consider ourselves as workers and G od as the employer. As an employer, G od pays us daily with the miracle of life etc. etc. He also spoke about the differences between workers and contractors. While individual Jews may be the laborers in “G od’s vineyard,” the people as a group have been contracted by G od, and their job is to make the world a better place and to teach the world of ethical monotheism by modeling righteous behavior in G od’s name. Contractors are not paid until the whole job is done to satisfaction. While we have done this to some extent, we have not received our “payment” because the job has not been completed.
I personally have a problem with that kind of rationalization because I detect in this the “mustard seed” concept in the Christian Testament that claims that if a person had the faith the size of a mustard seed, the Kingdom of G od or something like that would be brought about. Again, I think statements like this and the idea that we have not completed the job are both statements that rationalize the fact that the Messiah has not come and will not come until some unknown standard of human behavior is reach to some mysterious level. It generates feeling of failure which may be well deserved.
So why do bad things happen to good people remains a question, and the only honest answer for me is that we do not know. Somewhere along, a congregant moved the talk to the concept of rewards and punishments. The rabbi spoke of some people who blame the terrible things that go on in the world on the fact G od is displeased with how we act. To Christians, this is known as “the wages of sin.” I would hope that most Jews reject the allegation that bad things happen because G od is displeased, and to say that Katrina happened because of our acceptance of homosexuality or that the Holocaust happened because people didn’t light enough candles on the Sabbath, or that the earthquake in Haiti happened because whatever, is ludicrous and fallacious. Hurricanes and earthquakes are non-sentient natural disasters, and the Holocaust was the result of evil people being allowed to run amok while the world stood by in silent complacency and therefore, complicity. The rabbi, trying to redirect the conversation, challenged us to recall some moment in our lives when G od’s hand was visible and we saw “our payment.” Had he asked for examples, he might have better re-focused the discussion, but congregants insisted on pursuing the “bad things happening to good people” line, and raised the idea regarding those punishments that seemingly have no relationship to the decency of the individual being punished. And if we did know, the rabbi pointed out, we might not do anything to support someone who is sick or in pain because we are sure that this was a punishment from G od and we should not interfere. In the Hindu and Buddhist faith, this is called “Karma.” Karma is the results of what you have done in a past life or in this life, and to interfere is to be disrupting the process of the person’s spiritual quest for enlightenment and freedom. This is definitely not a Jewish concept since we are obligated to help. The world is not made better if you don’t help.
In thinking about this subject, I’ve not only concluded that we don’t know why bad things happen to good people, I’ve also concluded that suffering has little to do with G od. We have suffered because evil people have caused us to suffer, and the only promise that G od made that has been consistently kept is that a remnant will be saved. Did good people die when Assyria attacked and dispersed the tribes? Yes, and a remnant was saved. Many good people died when Babylon attacked and carried off the remnant that ultimately gave us the Babylonian Talmud. A remnant survived the Romans, the Inquisition, the Chilmineki Massacres, the Pogroms, and The Holocaust. Righteous people get sick, die, and are murdered. But there is a remnant and the promise of the people’s survival is kept. We have never been promised that we shall survive as individuals but as a people. I struggle with this concept because that logical extension of this train of thought is that prayers of intervention are of little value. In fact, the only prayer that I pray that has been consistently answered positively is addressed to Ayn Sof where I request the cosmic energy to deal successfully with my problems. In my most desperate moments when I did call upon G od to save the lives of young people I have love, the prayer was denied and both of them died. So while I continue to have a belief system, I have learned not to have any expectation of G od’s intercession, and without a belief in intercession, I can continue to believe in Ayn Sof, my creative, universal energy that moves through all things.
The remnant at Chabad have a faith and intensity of prayer I wish I had. In some ways I envy it and in all ways I honor it. . I looked around the room at the remnant praying at Chabad. I am grateful and happy to be part of this fellowship.
August 28, 2010
Parsha Lo Tavo
This day on the 18th of the month of Elul on the Hebrew calendar is an important one because it celebrates
the birthdays of two major figures in Jewish life: the birthday of the Bal Shem Tov who created the Chassidic Movement, and the birthday of the first Rebbe who created the Lubavitch Movement. Both men took Judaism to a new place, a place where the mysteries of G od were celebrated in joy .
This idea led Mendy into a discussion about the high holidays, and how the Chassidim, while viewing the majesty and awe of the days of Rosh Hashonah and Yom Kippur, also view them as an opportunity to be positive about the good things that have happened to you during the year and as a vehicle for expressing gratitude. Personally, I try to be grateful each day, first for getting up again in the morning, and then focusing on or appreciating the other good things that go on in my life. Perhaps I am deluding myself by always refocusing from the disturbing onto what I have that is good, but I do believe that only when one is truly grateful for what one has, only then can one be truly happy for what another has. This attitude keeps one from coveting, and therefore keeps you from breaking all sorts of commandment that result from coveting. I genuinely rejoice in other people’s portions.
I must have a Chassidishe soul, because many years ago I thought of how it might be if people recounted the blessing they committed instead of the sins, and I came up with the following which I’ve decided to have my Rosh Hasshonah dinner guest read as an addition to our regular table service.
A New Alchet
For the joy of staying with Judaism rather than leaving it.
And for the joy of bringing religion into our homes.
For the joy of passing along to our children more than we received as Jews.
And for the joy of speaking nobly to our children of Jewish survival and giving
them every reason to believe us.
For the joy of being Jews in both name and spirit , not being content to allow the current situation for Jews in this world to further deteriorate.
And for the joy of having seen evil in the world and acted to change it.
For the joy of making the sounds of the words written in the books and appreciating their meaning.
And for the joy of confessing our errors with our lips as well as with our souls and of reciting this prayer and sensing its truths for each of us.
FOR ALL THESE BLESSINGS, GRANT US PEACE
.
For the joy of donating to worthy needs to the point of personal sacrifice.
And for the joy of offering t'zdaka before we are asked.
For the joy of supporting our synagogue and other synagogues with our
funds as well as our presence.
And for the joy of claiming possession of great rabbis and coming to study with them.
For the joy of proudly proclaiming our Jewishness and knowing what that claim means.
And for the joy of fully accepting our Judaism knowing what we are accepting.
For the joy of not being indifferent to our children.
And for the joy of closing the gulf between our aspirations and our actions
For the joy of developing our Jewish identities.
And for the joy of treasuring our Jewish identities.
For the joy of believing that this one night of Jews at worship begins our obligations.
And for the joy of allowing the powerful meaning of this season to remain with us.
For the joy of passing through this season realizing it's potency is a year long enterprise.
And for the joy of increasing our Judaism by allowing ourselves to be here in body as well as in spirit.
FOR ALL THESE BLESSINGS, GRANT US PEACE.
Compiled by Leonard H. Berman
Mendy also spoke about the blessings and the curses that Moses utters to the people prior to their entrance into the Promised Land. He divides the congregation into two, and one group hears the blessing standing on one mountain, and the other group hears the blessings standing on the other. Both are promises of what will befall the people if they forsake G od and the commandments.
The question Mendy then asked was “Why did G od order them separated when they were both hearing the same words? Wouldn’t they be just as effective if the people stood together as a collective?” The answer he gave was really interesting and so applicable to today’s world. The separation comes because there are blessings and there are curses. There is a right and there is a wrong. There is good and there is evil, and the people were to physically feel the separation and actually see the differences. Certainly, there are and must be shades of gray and that is why different infractions garner different punishments. Being put outside the camp for a time was different from being stoned to death. But according to the Torah, when it comes to discernible evil, there are and must be no shades of gray when identifying it and condemning it. No one must say they “can understand the stress the person was under because of his family problems when he blew up the building killing innocent people.” The Torah tells us what is good and what is evil and requires us to see it clearly. “You shall burn the evil out of your midst,” is a very clear statement of what our attitudes must be if we are to maintain a just and stable society. It’s a hard Torah to learn and accept, but a necessary one.
If you are interested in reading an article I wrote entitled, "Making Kids Decent," click here.
the birthdays of two major figures in Jewish life: the birthday of the Bal Shem Tov who created the Chassidic Movement, and the birthday of the first Rebbe who created the Lubavitch Movement. Both men took Judaism to a new place, a place where the mysteries of G od were celebrated in joy .
This idea led Mendy into a discussion about the high holidays, and how the Chassidim, while viewing the majesty and awe of the days of Rosh Hashonah and Yom Kippur, also view them as an opportunity to be positive about the good things that have happened to you during the year and as a vehicle for expressing gratitude. Personally, I try to be grateful each day, first for getting up again in the morning, and then focusing on or appreciating the other good things that go on in my life. Perhaps I am deluding myself by always refocusing from the disturbing onto what I have that is good, but I do believe that only when one is truly grateful for what one has, only then can one be truly happy for what another has. This attitude keeps one from coveting, and therefore keeps you from breaking all sorts of commandment that result from coveting. I genuinely rejoice in other people’s portions.
I must have a Chassidishe soul, because many years ago I thought of how it might be if people recounted the blessing they committed instead of the sins, and I came up with the following which I’ve decided to have my Rosh Hasshonah dinner guest read as an addition to our regular table service.
A New Alchet
For the joy of staying with Judaism rather than leaving it.
And for the joy of bringing religion into our homes.
For the joy of passing along to our children more than we received as Jews.
And for the joy of speaking nobly to our children of Jewish survival and giving
them every reason to believe us.
For the joy of being Jews in both name and spirit , not being content to allow the current situation for Jews in this world to further deteriorate.
And for the joy of having seen evil in the world and acted to change it.
For the joy of making the sounds of the words written in the books and appreciating their meaning.
And for the joy of confessing our errors with our lips as well as with our souls and of reciting this prayer and sensing its truths for each of us.
FOR ALL THESE BLESSINGS, GRANT US PEACE
.
For the joy of donating to worthy needs to the point of personal sacrifice.
And for the joy of offering t'zdaka before we are asked.
For the joy of supporting our synagogue and other synagogues with our
funds as well as our presence.
And for the joy of claiming possession of great rabbis and coming to study with them.
For the joy of proudly proclaiming our Jewishness and knowing what that claim means.
And for the joy of fully accepting our Judaism knowing what we are accepting.
For the joy of not being indifferent to our children.
And for the joy of closing the gulf between our aspirations and our actions
For the joy of developing our Jewish identities.
And for the joy of treasuring our Jewish identities.
For the joy of believing that this one night of Jews at worship begins our obligations.
And for the joy of allowing the powerful meaning of this season to remain with us.
For the joy of passing through this season realizing it's potency is a year long enterprise.
And for the joy of increasing our Judaism by allowing ourselves to be here in body as well as in spirit.
FOR ALL THESE BLESSINGS, GRANT US PEACE.
Compiled by Leonard H. Berman
Mendy also spoke about the blessings and the curses that Moses utters to the people prior to their entrance into the Promised Land. He divides the congregation into two, and one group hears the blessing standing on one mountain, and the other group hears the blessings standing on the other. Both are promises of what will befall the people if they forsake G od and the commandments.
The question Mendy then asked was “Why did G od order them separated when they were both hearing the same words? Wouldn’t they be just as effective if the people stood together as a collective?” The answer he gave was really interesting and so applicable to today’s world. The separation comes because there are blessings and there are curses. There is a right and there is a wrong. There is good and there is evil, and the people were to physically feel the separation and actually see the differences. Certainly, there are and must be shades of gray and that is why different infractions garner different punishments. Being put outside the camp for a time was different from being stoned to death. But according to the Torah, when it comes to discernible evil, there are and must be no shades of gray when identifying it and condemning it. No one must say they “can understand the stress the person was under because of his family problems when he blew up the building killing innocent people.” The Torah tells us what is good and what is evil and requires us to see it clearly. “You shall burn the evil out of your midst,” is a very clear statement of what our attitudes must be if we are to maintain a just and stable society. It’s a hard Torah to learn and accept, but a necessary one.
If you are interested in reading an article I wrote entitled, "Making Kids Decent," click here.
September 4, 2010.
Parsha Nitzavim - Vayeilech
Mendy began his talk by telling us about an incident at his family’s Shabbat table where one of his children (he has eight) was acting out and after repeated warnings that if he or she did not apologize, he would have to leave the table and not participate. Mendy, recalling his own childhood knew he was playing into the kid’s plan, but the die was cast and the child left the table. Mendy, being Mendy, was saddened that one of his children would not participate and went up to the room again to request an apology. Alas, the initial request was denied, but eventually it all worked out and the family was reunited.
This introduction was kind of an introduction to Rosh Hashonah, the new year, where we attempt to reconcile with G od by sincerely seeking his forgiveness after we apologize. So G od becomes the father at the table who is dealing with a stubborn, recalcitrant, and often unrepentant child. And G od is always open to our returning to the table providing our repentance or teshuvah is real. G od is genuinely saddened like any father would be at negative behavior from one of his children.
This introduced another piece which was something of a dilemma. It seems that the Torah teaches that the Gates of Repentance are always open, but it also teaches that if you sin with the intention of sinning and at the same time with the intention of being absolved through repentance, such sins are not forgiven. So what is to be believed. Mendy taught that forgiveness is always available through repentance, but it is not going to be easy. That’s how the conflict is resolved, but he did not expound on the process. G od, like the father at the Shabbat table, is wanting all his children to behave so all can rejoice as part of the greater family. G od may be annoyed with his children and may threaten to withdraw from them, but He never does not love them, always wants them, and is eager to forgive them. G od is always present despite hiding his face. Somewhere during the drush, Mendy made reference to G od being miffed at certain prophets because they did not speak well of the Children of Israel and they were punished. I recall that on more than one occasion Moses speaks ill of the people, but he is punished by not being allowed into the Promised Land because instead of speaking to the rock to bring forth the water, he hit it with his staff as he often did when he wanted things to happen. Here, there seems to be an inconsistency as to what annoys G od. But as Mendy later said, would anyone want a G od that a mere mortal would understand? This I thought was an interesting come back to a congregant who questioned him about understanding G od.
G od’s certainly has his mysterious ways, but I think we do not want to understand G od. I think what human beings want is some tangible proof the G od is in fact a watchful and loving father. Right now, all people have is faith, but for some who are touched by tragedy, they want to know that there is a plan and that their suffering is not for no purpose.
But I digress from Mendy and his family.
Mendy, if you want to really analyze the “bid for recognition transaction” at the table we have here what is called a parallel transaction. On the psychological level, the Child Ego State in your son is in a transaction with the Parent Ego State in you. I’m sure, with eight children, you are well aware of the maxim that “any recognition is better than no recognition at all.” This is a basic tenant of psychology and applies to both children and adults. As one of eight, I’m sure this particular child has already figured out how to get attention and even negative attention reinforces his or her individuality by pulling the focus to themselves even if they are pulling the focus from the Sabbath and from G od. The imperative to control and to be recognized may be outside of one’s awareness, but it is a powerful imperative.
When I still conducted professional workshops, I would offer two entitled Parent Effectiveness Training and Teacher Effectiveness Training. They were really the same but with different target audiences. They were both predicated on the fact that when people enter into a relationship, they will send signals that something is bothering them. With both children and adults, what is bothering them may not be expressed directly, but it is expressed through symbolic action. “I have a stomach ache. Can I stay home from school?” That’s a code. The parent who gets this message can say “Of course dear. I’ll stay home with you,” or “Get dressed and get on that bus,” or “Something is going on in school that’s causing your stomach to hurt.” By feeding back with the latter sentence, the child hears that you are actually listening, recognizes that you read the code beneath his statement, and will open up more often than not. This type of response is called an “Active Listen.”
This brings us to the concept of problem ownership. In this case, you do not own this problem because whatever is going on at school is causing your child stress. Your child owns this problem. This identification is not cold. It must be done to decide on how to respond. The active listen, the feeding back to your child of what emotion or condition you perceive is the appropriate response to get someone who owns the problem to open up.
But what if the child’s behavior is causing you the problem? The problem is owned by the person who is disturbed by the behavior. Mendy was disturbed by his child’s behavior, and there for he owned the problem. Obviously, the child was not disturbed by his behavior. He was using it to gain attention and to control the situation.
When you discover that you own the problem, the message to be sent is not a threat or a demand for an apology. Of course you have to make executive decisions as to an appropriate repose. A child who is in harms way must be pulled away from the situation without concern for his or her feelings at the moment.
So the person who owns the problem needs to deliver an “I” message which has three parts: A non accusatory statement of the behavior that is bothering you, followed by a statement of how that is making YOU feel, followed by a non threatening statement of effect if the behavior continues. An example: “When you act out and complain at the Shabbos table, I feel sad because that behavior pulls my focus away from the Shabbat and Hashem and the feelings of joy and peace that I should be feeling are lost.” Your child, if he does not have a serious issue with you will hear your need and back off. If he doesn’t, he is either too young to understand and empathize or he is so angry with you that he is willing to bite down on the jugular you’ve just exposed by saying “I don’t care.” If that is the response, then you must realize that the relationship itself has a problem and has to be clarified and renegotiated.
At that point, if you have the time, active listen by feeding back the feeling such as “Wow, you’re really angry with me, aren’t you?” If the answer is “Yes!” Then you can say, “Would you be willing to talk to me about this problem after Shabbat diner so we can begin Shabbat now?” That should work.
Mendy, if you want to really analyze the “bid for recognition transaction” at the table, we have here what is called a parallel transaction. On the psychological level, the “Child Ego State” in your son is in a transaction with the “Parent Ego State” in you. Parallel transactions, like parallel lines go on for ever unless you cross the transaction with an “Adult Ego State” statement which is the “I message.” The “I message” statement is not the anticipated statement the Child Ego State in your son anticipates, and this cognitive dissonance will push your son’s Child into his Adult where he can hear you and hopefully, accommodate your needs.
Not knowing what went on between you and your dad, I cannot easily identify the actual transactions going on. But my hunch is that you either started off in a parallel transaction where your dad’s Parent Ego State anticipated that your Child Ego State would agree with him, but you crossed the transaction and insisted that whatever stance you were taking was correct, thus trying to put him into his Child Ego State so he might acquiesce to you. When that didn’t work for either of you, you both went into a Critical Parent to Critical Parent transaction and retired to your separate corners. You, being the man you are, went into your Nourishing Parent (an important section of the Parent Ego State) and tried to make things better by sitting your parents at your table. But then again, this may not have been you Nourishing Parent but the manipulative part of your Child who arranged the table seating. You do have a wonderfully Manipulative Child in you, but only you know the ego state from whence you were operating.
Enough interpretation, but I’m now thinking it would be really interesting activity to chart the transactions between G od and His people though out the Torah. Maybe I’ll do that one day.
September 9, 2010
First day of Rosh Hashanah
I went to M’kor Shalom for the first day of Rosh Hashonah, and the transitional Rabbi spoke well and sincerely, and I cannot recall what he said. I do know that after his sermon, I wanted to sing “Kum Baya.”
September 10, 2010
On the second day of Rosh Hashonah, the story of the sacrifice of Isaac is read. The story deals with Abraham and the proof of his devotion to G od. The imagery has become universal. So Mendy’s theme was on sacrifice.
He began by stating that he wanted to talk about himself and a new awareness of the story.
He began telling true stories about sacrifice, and two stand out. The first was about a father and his young son in a Nazi concentration camp. It seemed that there were 1500 boys and young men who were to be murdered, but the Nazis decided to let the tallest one hundred live. So they set up a bar and whoever walked under the bar was marked for death. But there was corruption, and it was discovered that a father could buy his son’s freedom but that would mean another man’s son would have to be killed in his place. A desperate man comes to the Rabbi and asks him if he could save his son’s life. He wants the Rabbi to tell him. The Rabbi tells the father that as a Rabbi, he cannot comment and he has no answer. The man begs and pleads and still the Rabbi would give him no answer. So the man concludes that he cannot save his own child at the expense of the life of another. This Mendy said, is what sacrifice is. The other story I recall just happened out in California. A massive anti-Israel protest was going on, and this single young man, wrapped himself in an Israeli flag and paraded in front of this screaming mob. When a reporter asked him who he represented, he said, “The Jewish People.” He risked his life. This, too was a sacrifice.
So Mendy asked us to think about the sacrifice of Isaac story and the three he told and ended the drush rather abruptly by saying, “What do you sacrifice?”
I think Mendy wants us to consider what will take us out of our comfort zone, because outside of our comfort zone is that place where we grow in self-awareness and in spirituality. Personally, I am always open to growth, and I like my comfort zone.
September 11, 2010
Parsha Ha’azinu
Shabbat Shuvah
Today, Shabbat Shuvah, is the Sabbath that falls between Rosh Hashonah and Yom Kippur, two of the most sanctified days of the year for the Jewish People. The word “shuvah” refers to “return,” and for weeks prior to these days, we have been directed to embark on a yearly spiritual journey that will bring us back into a stable relationship with G od from a relationship that might have faulted. It is a time where we not only ask G od for forgiveness, but we must also ask for forgiveness from those we may have injured in the past year or in any past year. Confronting the fact that not only do you have to admit being wrong, owning up to your error, you have to apologize to the person you have offended, and doing that takes some character and some courage.
Mendy told of an e-mail he had received where the person asked him for his forgiveness, and Mendy said his reply was that his forgiveness to this person was as sincere as this person’s apology to him. Several congregants took Mendy to task for his feelings of being offended suggesting that it may have taken all this person’s courage to apologize. I tended to agree feeling that this is the season where we are to exercise compassion, but when I later found out that this was a blanket e-mail sent out to many people, I thought that perhaps it might not have been very sincere. The underlying issue here deals with “the relationship,” and that was the excellent segue brought us into Mendy’s main objective which was to evaluate what the words “tehsuvah” (mostly translated as repentance) “tefilah” (translated as prayer) and “tzedakah” translated as charity. These three words end a particular prayer were collectively as a congregation acknowledge that we have sinned, and that there are some terrible consequences awaiting us for those infractions. And even if you yourself know that you are not guilty, you must state it because what one does, is a reflection on everyone else and therefore we are all in the same boat. As a people, we pray collectively. So after this difficult prayer we say, “But tehsuvah, tefilah, and tzedakah, repentance, prayer, and charity, avert the severe decree. So what is the severe decree? Those awful things that can befall any human being. But we read that G od can be appeased through repentance, prayer, and charity. Mendy voiced his disagreement with the statement saying that G od is not appeased through meaningless words such as “I’m sorry,” or “words of praise,” or a donation to some cause. G od cannot be bought off that easily.
Mendy made it clear that tehsuvah does not mean repentance, but return, and our goal is to return to that moment before we committed the sin or the injury. The object of the return is to reestablish the relationship that was injured at that moment. He offered no particular formula of how that is done, but for my part, it must begin by assessing the current relationship, how it became injured, what your part was in injuring that relationship, and if you were to blame, a face to face apology, and then a renegotiation of that relationship so it can be returned to the way it was. This can be a face to face with another person or with G od. Later, Shaul, a wonderfully vocal congregant who is very sincere in his passionate confrontations with Mendy, asked Mendy how you know when G od forgives you if you’ve committed a sin or injured a relationship? I don’t know if Mendy actually answered him, but I said to Shaul that whenever you have the opportunity to commit a particular sin or offense that you know is a sin or offense, and you choose freely not to commit that sin or offense again, it is at that moment that G od forgives you. Just asking for forgiveness with a promise not to do it again does not get you forgiveness. It is the behavior or change in behavior that earns you forgiveness. In Judaism, no one can forgive you for a sin except the person who was sinned against.
He next spoke about “tefilah” or prayer, and commented on just how many words were contained in the text. He also said that the words are not what will help. G od needs neither the words nor the ancient sacrifices. What G od is looking for is a sincere heart and words that actually have meaning to you and not read mechanically. Mendy says that if you can find a word or a phrase or sentences that speaks to your core, that is the prayer that G od seeks from you. It is the truth and intensity that come our of your soul that is desired.
Finally, he spoke of the true meaning of “tzedakah” or charity, and to make his point clear, he told several stories. The one I liked best took place many years ago in the time of the Alta Rebbe who was, I think, the founder of Mendy’s religious movement. The story goes that as Yom Kippur was about to start, a very pious man heard about a young widow who was about to give birth at the far end of town. She had no help other than her children and no heat to keep the baby warm. So this righteous man, recognizing that Yom Kippur is about to begin and knowing that he will be violating the laws of the holiday, still goes to the widows home and chops wood for her so that their hovel might at least be warm. Mendy said that this was the true spirit of tzedakah and the Alta Rebbe recognized it as such and recorded the tale so all would know it. The other story also dealt with Yom Kippur, and also with a righteous man. This Rabbi, right before the holiday, receives a woman who begs him to go to the land owner to have her husband freed. He had not paid his rent to this man. So the Rabbi goes there and tries to negotiate the farmer’s freedom, but the owner that he is owed 500 rubels, but will accept 250 if it comes tonight. So the Rabbi goes through the town trying to collect the money, but it’s a very poor town. Finally, he sees five Jewish men in the tavern who are not observing the holiday, and he asks them if they will contribute. One of them says that he will give him 50 rubels if he will drink a large glass of vodka. This he does, and begins to feel light headed. The next one offers him the same, and he realizes that if he can drink all the vodka, he can raise the money. So he does and is totally smashed. Stumbling, falling, he makes his way to the landowner’s home, pays the money, frees the farmer, and staggers to the shul. The congregation is appalled that he desecrated the holiday, but again, the great Rabbi said that he acted in the true spirit of tzadakah. Both dealt with honesty of purpose. Neither of these men were trying to avoid the holiday.
September 18, 2010
Yom Kippur at M’Kor Shalom
Rabbi Frankle spoke on Yom Kippur about the story of Jonah, a fragment of which was read on that day. It was well delivered and quite meaningful. She spoke of Jonah as a man who flees responsibility, not just because he does not think the people of Ninevah do not deserved to be saved, but because he does not want to be successful. This I found really idea really interesting. She explained that there are certain people who choose not to take leadership positions as Jonah chose, or stand out for what their accomplishments might be. She reasoned that such behavior would give them additional responsibilities, and such people basically feel that such responsibilities would overwhelm them, proving to the world finally that they are as inadequate as they believe themselves to be. Also, they do not want to be burdened by the expectations that come with success.
So Jonah does what he must do, and to his astonishment, he is a success. The people listen to him and they repent. But rather than feel good about what he has done, he becomes angry. Jonah is not a man who is compassionate, and must ultimately be taught that compassion for G od’s creations is the true test of a man’s character.
October 2, 2010
Parsha Baresheit
Mendy spoke of Moses’ death and how all the men of Israel mourned. Then he compared this response to death to Aaron’s death where the Torah says that all of Israel mourned him. So the Rabbis ask the question as to why Moses who is the leader and the giver of the law is not mourned by the entire community and his brother was. The answer the give relates to how the people viewed both men. Aaron throughout is depicted as a man of peace who looked for the good in everyone and negotiated truces among people. He was a diplomat where as his brother, Moses, saw the world in black and white and told people what they had to do. Moses may have negotiated with G od, but he was not of a mind to negotiate with the people. So when Moses died, he was not given the same honor that Aaron received. The implication is that the people liked Aaron better than they liked Moses. I think it may also mean that people respond to people who are open minded and are willing to listen and negotiate.
This introduction led to the core idea that we as individuals must try to imitate Aaron and make peace between people. Mendy admonished us not to look down on others or presume that we are better than they are because we attend services more than they do. In fact Mendy said that if we have to make any comment about service attendance, you just say that “It’s nice to see you.” Mendy was asking us to be like Aaron. He’ll be the Moses in the congregation by telling us what we have to do.
He also told a very enigmatic story from the Talmud about the great Rabbi Hillel. Hillel we are told was once confronted by a Roman who demanded that he summarize the Torah standing on one foot. Hillel raised his foot and said, “That which is hateful to you, do not do to another. The rest is commentary. Now, go and learn.” Hillel was also noted for never losing his temper. The Talmudic story Mendy told was about two men who made a bet that one of them could get Hillel to lose his temper. So the man goes to Hillel on the eve of the Sabbath and first interrupts him while taking a bath to ask him why the people in Babylon have very odd shaped heads. Hillel answers him and he goes away. He returns again right before Sabbath begins with the question of why certain people have very narrow eyes, Hillel answers him and he goes away. Finally, he returns and asks Hillel why certain people who live in a certain area have big feet. Unruffled, Hillel gives him an answer, and before the man lives he tells Hillel that he hopes there will never be another man like him because he has cost him an enormous sum of money.
Mendy explained that each of the questions was to be interpreted metaphorically (my word). He said each person described in each question related to types of people who exist among us and who have not been given the benefits that come with being afforded a proper Jewish education. The first group is illiterate and know nothing, the second is blind to the beauty of their history and faith, and I can’t recall the third. It was an interesting drush.
We began Genesis today, and the story of creation.
October 9, 2010
Noach
Mendy began by saying he wanted to talk about a tangential story found in Noah that everyone knows as The Tower of Babel. Mendy said that the reason for building the Tower was to wage war against G od for having destroyed the world, but that story is not in the Torah itself so it is obviously a midrashic interpretation written by some ancient or Medieval sage. We know the story of how G od saw what the people were doing and confounded the languages, for up until this time, all people spoke the same language, had the same culture, and were totally unified in thought and action. But it would seem that G od values individuality, and this unity of thought and purpose would not do. So suddenly, the people began speaking different languages and that forced them to move away from each other and to establish diverse communities which led to diverse civilizations.
To me, this story is nothing more than a transformation myth which is a story to explain how something came to be. In this case, it explains the miraculous development of languages and language families, and precedes by millennia, the Indo-European Hypothesis formulated by Otto Jeserperson. Now Jesperson’s theory postulated that millennia ago, probably in what we call the Cradle of Civilization, there was a group of land locked people who had a common language and lived in a temperate climate. This philologists hypothesize this from certain common words that exist in the most ancient of languages living and dead. Eg. All these have a common root for the word “honey,” but none for the word “ocean.” (I’m remembering this from college in 1959) As these people traveled from the Middle East to Europe, and to the Far East, they brought with them a language that changed over centuries due to isolation, natural barriers, discoveries, inventions, etc.
The story is interesting, but like the story of Noah which is borrowed from the older Mesopotamian tale of Gilgamish which was probably known to Abraham and handed down to his descendants, the tower story is also a borrowed fragment from older tales. Now don’t get me wrong. I believe that there was a flood. In that the story is absolutely true. But this flood may have been brought about by an earthquake that cause a fissure that ripped away the land that separated the Mediterranean sea from the inland fresh water lake we today call the Black Sea probably about ten thousand years ago. The Mediterranean sea roiled into this low lying area causing such mega destruction and devastation, that it was imprinted on the minds of the people living around what is now the Black Sea who survived, escaped, and told the story. Over the centuries as it was passed down it became embellished, and when our ancestors adopted it into our literature, it was G od, saddened by the corruption of his creations, who purposefully and rightfully brought about their destruction.
This flood story entered the folk lore of many nations, and many nations have a flood story to relate. Earthquakes and floods were common to the Middle East, and Professor Wooley of Princeton University, digging in Iraq in the early part of the 20th Century, dug down through layers of Middle Eastern civilization, came to a thick layer of mud, continued digging, and found even older civilizations. Some devastating deluge had created that layer of mud that stretched for miles. Now those who have faith might say that it was G od, working through the natural order He created that caused the quakes and the floods, and I certainly would not disagree with people who have that faith and believe that every word in the Torah is true. Sadly, I do not. And this point brings me to another piece of the midrash of the Tower of Bable story. Mendy said that the tower was destroyed but not entirely, and I’m a little fuzzy here. I recall him saying that there were three components: The top third of the tower that was destroyed forever, the section that was left standing but seriously damaged, and a third that was under the ground that occasionally will resurface and again disappear. These he said corresponded to three types of Jews respectively. Those who have given up their Judaism and yiddishkeit and walked away from their people, those who live Jewish lives with some yiddishkeit, but have substituted and accepted scholarship in lieu of faith based on their educations, and finally, those Jews who appear and disappear depending on the time of year and who are Jewish at the holidays, practice sporadically, and who do not have yiddishkeit and G od at the core of their beings.
The Mendys of the world and others who are sincerely devout, do not figure into the symbolism of this metaphorical tower. He was speaking to someone like me, a person who loves the concept of yiddishkeit, who does have G od at his center, who does believe in the efficacy the moral law in the Torah, and who also believes that G od must be the authority behind it so there is no moral relativism. But Mendy was also speaking to someone like me who does not believe in the idea that the Torah was written by G od and taught to Moses. My belief is that Moses, the greatest moral genius who ever walked this earth, recorded the stories handed down by his ancestors and added the laws he knew from other ancient codes, but he improved upon these, making them far more just and far more ethical than any laws preceding the ones he changed or promulgated. He was inspired by the balances and harmonies of the G od created world and sought to apply such balances and harmonies to human society through law.
October 23, 2010
Parsha Vayera
I hadn’t been to Chabad because of a bar and bat mitzvah in Ashville, N.C. The rabbi spoke of the Parsha Lech -Lecha and she inferred that lech lecha meant “Go out and find yourself.” This I found very interesting and meaningful. Abraham, in this part of Genesis, is told by G od to pick himself up and go to a land that he will be shown, but the implicit meaning of the words hold the idea that he will go on a path of self-discovery. Each of us hears his own Lech Lecha at various moments in our lives, and if we have the spirit to move out of our comfort zones, we have the potential to discover an inner world that might be both fascinating and fulfilling. At least, that is what I took from the message “go out and find yourself.” I wonder how Mendy interprets these two words?
When I did get back to Chabad, Mendy asked the congregation if they knew why he spoke weekly from the bima. Some laughter and quiet whispers followed. Still, there were a variety of answers including mine which was that “he expects us to internalize his messages and act on them.” This is what I take away from his weekly talks.
As a side note, I must praise Mendy for his growth as a teacher, since the question was clearly a “guess what is going on in my head” type of question. But Mendy accepted each statement and pointed to other people with out comment. Since no one was being told that they were wrong, there were a lot more participants than usual. Mendy is learning. Now he needs to just acknowledge each response with a simple “Thank you.”
After the responses, Mendy said that his purpose, (if I recall correctly) beyond teaching, is to establish some controversy so people will start thinking outside the comfortable boxes they are in and also outside of their comfort zones. He mentioned that in the prior week he had said something that was edgy enough to prompt some negative responses to his comments. I asked him what he had said to generate such controversy, after the service, but he said that he never discusses past sermons. This may be true. I can accept that even though it came to mind that he might not have remembered what he said that caused the controversy or that he regretted saying it and didn’t want to revisit it. I did not pursue the matter, but one congregant alluded to something that Mendy said to him about his personal growth as a Jew that seemed to indicate that Mendy was reluctant to allow congregants on the bima to chant Torah or the service if he perceived that they were not climbing that yiddishkeit ladder to his satisfaction. Of course, this comment dealt with a personal issue between Mendy and the congregant and may not at all be related to the comments from the bimah. If that is in fact what when down, I think Mendy is out of line. To me, the skills and knowledges needed to chant Torah and the service are a remarkable gift to bring before G od and such people should be honored for their skills and allowed to chant regardless of where they are on the ladder. People with such skills are to be admired, not castigated for not doing enough to grow in their yiddishkeit . Of course, a prerequisite for approaching the Torah is that the reader is a decent human being.
I maintain that growth is a very personal thing, and a person will grow at his or her own speed despite guilt trips from well meaning rabbis. Guilt trips in the area of religion tends to turn people of any age off and pushes them away. Still, Mendy maintains that this is were soul growth takes place, and it is our soul’s yearning to grow. This, I believe, is Mendy’s truth and that is why he is constantly challenging the congregation to climb higher on the yiddishkeit ladder.
I have recently had a handyman come to my home to talk about building an overhang on my deck that will be decorated as a succah in the future. I have not had a succah in my backyard in about thirty years, but I’ve decided to return to this mitzvah. But I know that this will not be a kosher succah because it will be a permanent part of the deck. I no longer have the strength or stamina to build and dismantle a succah for this holiday. Am I to be castigated because my attempt to climb higher on the yiddishkeit ladder is not taking the Jewish law regarding the succah into full consideration? Would it be better if I didn’t build my succah because it will not be kosher or will G od smile at the attempt? Would Mendy come and make kiddish with me in my non-kosher succah or help me welcome in the traditional biblical guests?
As I said before, it took thirty years for me to get back to having a succah. Climbing the ladder for some is a slow and deliberate affair. Am I not to be rewarded with blessings for the effort?
November 6, 2010
Parsha Toledot
There was an “uf ruf” which is the tradition of honoring a young man by calling him up to the Torah before his wedding. It’s just another Jewish excuse to celebrate life, and to shower the bride and groom with well wishes and blessings. I don’t think you can have too much of those celebration.
So in trying to relate the parsha of the week to some good advice that might inspire the bride and groom, Mendy chose to deal first with Isaac and Rebecca who initially could not have children and then with the story of Esau, Jacob, and the blessing that Rebecca insisted should go the younger son.
At one point the Torah tells us that Isaac and Rebecca stood at opposite ends of their tent and prayed for each other. But the emphasis seemed to be on Isaac praying for Rebecca more than for himself. And Mendy instructed the couple that if each is going to look to what the other person can do for them, the marriage may become troubled. A good marriage Mendy said, is one where you look to do for the other rather than for yourself. Buber’s “I-It” and “I-Thou” relationships came to mind, and I fully understand the need to love your spouse more than you love yourself.
Mendy’s second piece of wisdom came in reference to the boys themselves and how Rebecca supported Isaac’s belief that one day Esau, his favorite, would turn from his wild ways and become more responsible and spiritual like his brother and be worthy of the blessings and the right to carry on the traditions. But Rebecca knew that that would never happen, but she said nothing because she believed that each son, no matter the problems that son caused, should have one loving parent in his corner being supportive and hopeful of growth. But eventually, push came to shove, and Isaac was ready to bless the son who would never be able to fulfill the vision of his father and grandfather. So Rebecca convinces Jacob to pretend he is his brother and she deceives her blind husband. But Isaac says “The voice is the voice of Jacob, but the hands are the hands of Esau.” He knew something was not right, but he blesses him anyway. Rebecca knew that the blessing and the continuation of the vision had to go through Jacob because that was G od’s statement to her when her sons were born. She never told Isaac this because she felt if he knew, he would not have taken the time with Esau and each son deserved a parents support and love.
Mendy’s message to the couple was that there is a mutuality in parenting and children need consistency, support, and affection. They also cannot have their feelings protected from some hard truths about themselves and their behaviors, and at one point it is made very clear to Esau that the wives he has taken from the Hittite women are a disappointment to his parents. Perhaps they might have said something to him before he married them.
There are three items that I think are really important in this parsha. The first deals with romantic love. In the society in which these patriarchs lived, the woman gained status and security by producing a male heir. If they did not, the husband had the right to send her away even if she was the primary wife. Sarah bemoans her condition, but Abraham would never think of letting her go. He is in love with her, and it makes no difference that she has not borne a son to him. Eventually, she does so his line continues. Isaac is the good son, and Ishmael, the bad son. Like his father before him, Isaac’s wife Rebecca, cannot provide him with a son, but his love for her is such that he does not send her away and take an other wife. Again, she eventually does, and the line can continue. Jacob is the good son, and Esau, the bad son. Many parallels.
The second item of interest is the situation where Isaac tells the ruler of the country that Rebecca is his sister, not his wife. He does this to save his life. His father, Abraham, also used this rouse for the same reason. It must be understood, that the times in which the patriarchs lived violent times and a time without establish law that protected individual. Any ruler could kill a husband with impunity if he wanted the man’s wife. In order to survive, guile had to be employed, and our patriarchs and matriarchs employ guile and deceit so they can go on living. Too weak to resort to force, they resorted to duplicity, and none of them ever murdered to acquire what they had. In many ancient cultures and literatures there are characters both human and animal who are honored as “tricksters” for their ability to survive in the face of hostile powers. I honor our patriarchs and matriarchs for the message they send us regarding survival. And I like to think that one of G od’s criteria for choosing us to carry His message to the world was because we were clever and knew how to get on without being violent.
The third item of interest here deals with a remarkable challenge to the order of the society in which these people live. When G od informs Rebecca that “Two nations struggle in her womb, but the elder shall serve the younger,” the entire system of inheritance was put into dispute. Up until now, primogeniture, or the right of the first born to the lion’s share of the inheritance and whatever power went with being the eldest, was the law. But the Jews introduced the concept of “meritocracy” or the passing on of the leadership and blessings to the one who merited carrying on the traditions of the tribe because they were the one suited to do so. Adding this new concept to the one we gave the world at Sinai that there is a single G od who demands that we treat one another well and that our G od is the only God and all others are false, might be just another reason they didn’t like us. This challenge to primogeniture begins with G od’s acceptance of Able’s offering over Cain’s. Cain was the elder brother. Moses is younger than Aaron, Joseph is younger than the Leah’s, Zilpah’s and Belah’s sons, David is younger than his brothers, Solomon is younger than his etc., etc., etc. The tradition of the younger receiving the honor because he was deserving of it is recounted often in the scriptures.
Mendy was on his A game this Shabbat.
Note:
Mendy, you mentioned that you disagreed with statements in my last log. I can understand why and I suspect your issue dealt with the secular scholarship I referenced. I guess you can see that I have a problem with absolute theism. Had I grown up with the same faith and yiddishkeit with which you grew up, I would have no problems with issues of faith. I do believe that the Torah is a brilliant compilation initiated by a G od inspired Moses, handed down orally and in writing over the next centuries until it was codified. But this is my problem. I know that G od needs to be the authority behind moral law or else we are open to moral relativism and a floating morality. But if I cannot believe that every law in the Torah was dictated to Moses by G od Himself, how do I reconcile my issue of humanity needing G od to be the authority?
I have never asked you for a theological response, but if you have some redirection of thinking that does not require me to abdicate my reason, I’d be very much eager to sit with you to hear what you have to say.
November 13, 2010
Parsha Vayetze
Mendy did not speak this Shabbat other than to introduce a rabbi whose name I cannot remember. Mendy introduced him as a tzadick or righteous man to which the rabbi promptly informed us that he was not a tzadick. At lunch, I walked over to him and said, “Perhaps you do not acknowledge your righteousness because of your modesty, but if you are not a tzadick, then who is?” I really meant this. I would prefer that such a man say that he is “a tzadick in training” or just smile at the praise which is probably a common introduction rather than disavow the praise and present us with false modesty.
In any case, he spoke rapidly and from time to time I could not absorb his message. Initially he spoke of Jacob and leaving a place. Jacob does leave his home, and the rabbi informed us that it is said that when a righteous man or tzadick leaves the place he has been , he takes with him the three qualities that he brought with him, the last one being the crown that is his knowledge of the Torah. I do not recall the other two. He spoke of other patriarchs such as Abraham who “went down” from the Land of Israel to Egypt which implied a going down to a place that was spiritually barren. But where Isaac was concerned, there wasn’t a going down when he left. The implication was that Isaac took with him the spiritual qualities embodied in the land wherever he went. I like this idea, the idea that we carry the values of our people and our spiritual connection to the land wherever we go, so we are never far from holiness. At least this is what I took away from this part of the drush. I think a righteous person always leaves something of himself when he leaves a place.
This parsha is really interesting because it has the story of Jacob’s dream of the ladder with the angels ascending and descending, as well as the way Laban uses Jacob after he substitutes Leah for Rachel. It tells of the birth of his twelve sons and one daughter by Leah and Rachel as well as the handmaidens, Bilah and Zilpah. As I read this chapter, I couldn’t help but think of the phrase, “What goes around, comes around.” Jacob had deceived Isaac and Esau and now Jacob was being deceived by Laban. There are balances that need to be put straight. But I digress. The rabbi spoke about none of these things, but did speak about the three visitors who were really the angels Gabriel, Michael, and Uriel who came to Abraham’s tent. The rhetorical question asked was why are there only three. The answer given was that each angel had a particular mission: One was to heal Abraham after his circumcision ordeal, one was to inform Sarah that she would become pregnant, and the other one was to destroy Sodom and the other cities of the plains. So the next question was why wasn’t there a fourth angel sent just to save Lot and his family since that’s what happens, and why Lot at all since he was not a particularly righteous individual? And this is where my memory gets a little dicey because two roots of this story have to be understood in order to understand why Lot is saved.
One root has to do with the idea that Moabite men, because they did not bring out bread and water to the Israelites when they passed near their land after fleeing Egypt, were forbidden to convert to Judaism. But the women were because they were confined to their homes to protect them and their modesty. This is important because Ruth was a Moabite woman and is the ancestor of David as well as the Messiah. Had Lot not been saved, and had he not had a son/grandson by one of his daughters named Moab, Moab’s line would never have produced Ruth. The rabbi did not mention this, but Moab was the product of an incestuous relationship, but because Lot’s daughters actually believed that they were the last survivors on earth, they felt compelled to repropagate the earth with their father. Because their motives were honest, they and their children were not punished.
The second root of the Lot story deals with Sarah. When the angel inquires of Abraham about where Sarah is at that moment, Abraham tells him that she is in the tent. The sages tell us that she is there because of her modesty, and her modesty does not permit her to appear before three strangers. This is indeed praise, and it is Sarah’s modesty that in some way triggers a connection with the Moabite woman that G od informs Gabriel, the angel assigned to destroy Sodom, to save Lot and his family so Lot can be the ancestor of Ruth. Saving Lot is an after thought and solely due to Sarah’s behavior.
I was fascinated by what I was learning though I felt pushed back against my seat by all the rapidly fired words that came at me. I was amazed and very impressed with the machinations and creativity of our sages who pieced together all these elements to explain a question they asked themselves as to why there was no fourth angel. I am still smiling. It was very instructive and though skillfully delivered, and as good as he was, he was no Mendy.
November 20, 2010
Vayishlach
Mendy’s drush this week was on the story of Jacob reuniting with his brother Esau after twenty years. Jacob is really nervous after being told that his brother approaches with an armed band of four hundred men. So Jacob formulates a plan and it reflects who this man is. Jacob, because he has no idea how his brother is going to respond, will send numerous gifts in waves in the hope of appeasing his brother if his brother has murder on his mind. He refers to himself in a message to Esau that he, Jacob, is Esau’s servant. This act of humility and this suing for peace, while it should be the first step in all conflicts, is in reality a stratagem for survival. He does not trust his brother. If it works, he and his family are safe, but if not, he must fight. Flight does not seem to be an option. His Plan B calls for separating his primary and secondary wives and their children into four camps, his beloved Rachel and Joseph being at the rear because they are the most loved and the ones he most wants to protect. (I can only imagine how Bilah and Zilpah felt.) So right from the beginning, Jacob knew that he could not go into this situation blind to the reality of what might be nor should he have done so. He also had no intension of accompanying his brother home, and lying, he tells Esau that he will follow at a slower pace because of his wife and children and then takes off in another direction. Jacob is no fool.
Jacob, like his father and grandfather, is a survivor and will use deception and trickery to maintain his life and protect those in his family. Duplicity, if it is to save a life, is approved of in the Torah. In one of the prophetic books , I don’t remember which one, G od Himself tells the prophet to send the pursuers in a different direction from the one being pursued. Jonathan lies to his father to save David’s life. Today, the police are within their legal rights to lie to a suspected perpetrator of a crime if it can get a confession. Jacob is a master manipulator as proven in his dealings with Laban, but not a murderer. He is good, but he’s not all that good. He’s very real and very human.
But Jacob is also unhappy because he feels he has labored for what he has and deserves to “sit under his fig tree with none to make him afraid.” But just after the Esau incident, we are told that his only daughter, Dina, is raped by Prince Shechem and that she is being held. The prince has fallen in love with her and begs Jacob for her hand in marriage. Jacob seems amenable to this arrangement, but his eldest sons by Leah, Reuben and Simone, men very like their father, agree with Jacob that this is a good idea. But they, working on their own duplicitous agenda, insist that before the marriage can take place, all men of Shechem must be circumcised. This happens, and on the third day, (everything important happens on the third day) Reuben and Simeon sneak into the city and murder all the men. Now when Jacob hears of this, his immediate statement is that now all the people will hate me and try to kill me. The fact that he never berates his sons for murdering scores of innocent people but sees the consequences only as it effects him, I personally do not think speaks well for this man. But the boys, part of an ancient society that regarded honor as paramount, utter the words, “Shall our sister be treated like a harlot?” Very succinct and very true. They are all products of their time, and reflect the values of these desert clans.
So here we have two stories in this family. Both deal with duplicitous behavior; one to survive a brother’s potential anger, and the other to avenge a sister’s honor.
Our patriarchs lived at a time where might made right, and survival often meant deception. I think one reason G od may have liked Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob was because they were men who survived not by might but by being clever and sometimes devious. The story of Jacob teaches us that in any conflict, be it between husband and wife, or nation and nation, the first effort is to sue for peace, even if it means bending a little so the other might bend, too. But there is a limit to bending because when something bends, it can also break. A man can go along for the sake of shalom bayit, but there may come a time when to bend is to break and to loose one’s self and what one holds dear. The foot has to go down. Mendy asked us to think of how we deal with conflicts and I immediately thought of my first marriage and my second. I know exactly why my first marriage didn’t work and exactly why the second does. It all has to do with bending appropriately and standing up when bending is not appropriate.
The piece of the story that really got me thinking was the brother’s response. While Jacob feared that all would turn against him because of what his sons did, the sons rationalized that by taking such a drastic step, everyone will learn of it and fear them. No one would come after people who murdered the men of an entire city. Being feared is better than being perceived as weak. Naturally, I immediately thought of Israel and how if Iran continues to threaten, or if Hamas continues to shell Israel, Israel, despite the condemnation of the world, will have to do something really dramatic to get the terrorists to take heed.
The denigration of the United States in the Arab world began with Jimmy Carter who didn’t drop a bomb on Tehran when the extremists took over the Marine barracks. Had he done that, Iran wouldn’t be the problem it is today. Had Bush not pulled back and acquiesced, Osama would be dead today. There are certain groups who understand only power and respect only power. If Israel is going to survive, it must never appear weak in the eyes of the Arab world. If the United States is going to survive, it must tone down the multi-cultural and politically correct stance it has assumed over the past decades. Teddy Roosevelt said “Walk softly, and carry a big stick.” Reagan was the last president who wasn’t afraid to use the stick. Obama is walking softly, but is naive to believe that the stick is not going to be needed.
December 11, 2010
Parsha Va-Yigash Gen. 44:18-50.26
Mendy began by telling us about his daughter’s report where she decided to interview children of Rabbis to find out what their lives are like and how they function. Mendy related how it was being the son of a very prominent Rabbi in his community, and the difficulty his own children have with him as the Rabbi in his community. Mostly, he is away from them dealing with his congregation while other fathers might be home with their families. The key point he was making was that when a person becomes a community leader, he no longer belongs only to his family. Mendy came to this realization when he was nineteen after viewing a tape of the Rebbe’s daughter saying that her father’s library was not owned by the Rebbe or by his family but belonged to the people. The child of a community leader eventually must conclude that he or she must share this parent with others. But with this also comes the child’s responsibility not to embarrass this parent as people watch the behavior of such children expecting them to behave better than others because of who the parent is. The expression in English which describes this is “Caesar’s wife” which simply means that the person connected to “Caesar” has to be above reproach in his or her behavior because of the reflection negative behavior would bring to “Caesar.” I would imagine some children of Rabbis would accept this as their role and other might resent it enormously.
Mendy then turned his attention to the Parsha which was about Joseph’s reconciliation with his brothers. It is a very moving story which brings Joseph to tears and I frequently feel tears welling up too because it holds out the hope that people who are estranged from one another in families might also one day be reconciled. Mendy throughout was making the point that Joseph had been thrown in jail and languished there probably resentful and enraged for a time at his brothers for selling him, until he came to the conclusion that this was G od’s doing and he had been given the specific mission to go before his family to Egypt so as to be able to provide for them when the famine came upon the land. He also related a story that tells of a Chasidic Rabbi who was put in jail in Russia with other prominent men. The prominent men complained bitterly at the injustice of their incarcerations, yet this Rabbi looked at the situation from a different perspective and suggested that his imprisonment was G od’s plan, and he had to continue his vision and mission from behind bars. That was the whole point.
According to Orthodoxy, we each have been given a mission to perform in this world. Some of us get put on the top of the heap where it is performed and some of us on the bottom. But it’s all G od’s doing to fulfill G od’s purpose. This idea of fundamental pre-destination I thoroughly reject because it seems to deny the fundamental thing that makes us fully human which is free will. I am at a loss to see how Orthodox Judaism can resolve this fundamental paradox in its theology. Perhaps Mendy might enlighten me on this point.
But the idea of changing your perspective as Joseph did when finding yourself in difficult circumstances, and seeing an alternative to what only appears to be negative, is a very good idea. This giving yourself permission to change perspective reminds me of a similar idea explored in the film Crossing Delancy where the young man tells a young lady of a man who always changed his hat when he needed a new perspective on life. By not allowing yourself to be overwhelmed by the situation, you give yourself time to consider alternatives and you may just find something positive and a new path to consider or to follow.
December 4, 2010
Parsha Mi-Ketz
Mendy introduced the parsha of the week which tells of Joseph’s interpreting Pharaoh’s dreams and being made viceroy of Egypt. It also deals with his brothers coming to Egypt to purchase food from Egypt and the anguish they are made to go through at Joseph’s instigation. Of course Joseph may have inflicted this pain on them with just a hint of revenge, but it is more likely that the core of his torment of them was to see if they had grown in their humanity. Mendy did not speak to this at all. In fact, he introduced his drush by saying that because this parsha falls on the Shabbat of Chanukah, it is often pushed aside in favor of some talk about the holiday. And that’s exactly what Mendy did. He spoke about Chanukah by inviting the congregants to imagine themselves approached by the Maccabee brothers and invited to join this pitifully small band of warriors who where going up against the major power in the ancient world, the Syrian Greeks. He challenged us to consider what we would do to protect what he calls “yiddishkeit” ( the Jewish faith system and the laws that emanate from this system that make us a distinctive people) and would we would be willing to make the supreme sacrifice? Happily, this was a rhetorical question. But he did invite the congregation to consider the question.
Mendy did mention how different the two civilizations were and how the Greeks considered the arts, sciences, and intellect the supreme goal of the human quest. He made it clear that the Jewish focus was not on beauty but on the beauty and growth of the spirit. Mendy also spoke about G od and G od’s centrality to the Chanukah story.
It is interesting that if you symbolically look at Western Civilization as a lintel on a door way, we can say that this lintel rests on one column that comes from ancient Greece with the other column from Jerusalem. Greece gave Western Civilization its sense of beauty and proportion through its architecture and the other arts, our beginnings of science, philosophy, drama, and other types of literature. But from Jerusalem, Western Civilization took its morality, and without morality, you cannot have a stable society or justice no matter how beautiful your buildings are or no matter how well you are entertained. Jewish values came in with the advent of Christianity via the Septuagint, which was the Torah translated into Greek.
The Syrian Greeks brought to Israel a wealth of new wonders, and many Jews became enamored of the Hellenistic way of life. Many Israelites embraced these wonders, and some rejected them, unwilling to give up their own culture and religion. The Syrian Greeks, like so many in the ancient world and in the world today, saw that by the Jews continuing to existing and by continuing to hold fast to their G od, their law, and their sense of nationhood, they in some way presented not only a challenge to the Syrian Greek way of life, but also challenged the validity of that way of life. No people like to be told by a conquered people that they are wrong to believe and behave as they do, and that their gods are false. It is important to know, that the Maccabe revolt was not only a revolt against the Syrian Greeks who demanded that the Jews give up their way of life and become Hellenists, it was also a civil war against those Jews who were willing to become Hellenists. It was a bloody fight to preserve Judaism on two fronts, and Mendy did mentions that the success of the Maccabees enabled Judaism to continue. For me, the concept underlying the Chanukah celebration is the right of all people to have freedom of religion. The tradition of placing a menorah on the door posts of your home or in your window stems from that ancient civil war between Jews who were proud of who they were and between those who wanted to assimilate. That battle is still being fought.
Mendy’s key point was that G od was in the miracle that was Chanukah, and that we must always remember this. His posited that if our faith is strong and we are doing what is right to protect our way of life, G od will strengthen us and our efforts. He did mention the fact that the two books that tell the story of the Maccabees is not in the Bible, but in the Apocrypha which are those books that were not selected to be part of the Bible when the Bible was codified. It is possible that the books were rejected because G od was not in the Maccabee story, but that begs the question as to why both the Book of Esther, and The Song of Songs are included when these do not mention G od either? I once was told that the Rabbis chose to exclude the books because the feared that the story would embolden young Jewish men to revolt against whomever was controlling Judea at the time, and that seems plausible, too. Another Rabbi mentioned to me that the books were excluded because they were written by Josephus who, because of his association with the Romans, was considered persona non grata with the rabbis.
The Books of the Maccabees have no record of the miracle of the oil, and may possibly indicate that they were not celebrating a new holiday but celebrating Sukkot because it had not been celebrated that year in the Temple and they needed to pray for rain. So it was referred to as Tishrei in Kislev and also took the same eight days. There are only about twenty Jews left in the city and the synagogue is open for services only for the holidays. It is possible that it became its own holiday because the Jewish people demanded it. It was Talmud that first tells the story of the miracle of the oil and the suggested reason is to place G od at the center of the story and not soldiers. Happy Chanukah,
December 11, 2010
Parsha Va-Yigash Gen. 44:18-50.26
Mendy began by telling us about his daughter’s report where she decided to interview children of Rabbis to find out what their lives are like and how they function. Mendy related how it was being the son of a very prominent Rabbi in his community, and the difficulty his own children have with him as the Rabbi in his community. Mostly, he is away from them dealing with his congregation while other fathers might be home with their families. The key point he was making was that when a person becomes a community leader, he no longer belongs only to his family. Mendy came to this realization when he was nineteen after viewing a tape of the Rebbe’s daughter saying that her father’s library was not owned by the Rebbe or by his family but belonged to the people. The child of a community leader eventually must conclude that he or she must share this parent with others. But with this also comes the child’s responsibility not to embarrass this parent as people watch the behavior of such children expecting them to behave better than others because of who the parent is. The expression in English which describes this is “Caesar’s wife” which simply means that the person connected to “Caesar” has to be above reproach in his or her behavior because of the reflection negative behavior would bring to “Caesar.” I would imagine some children of Rabbis would accept this as their role and other might resent it enormously.
Mendy then turned his attention to the Parsha which was about Joseph’s reconciliation with his brothers. It is a very moving story which brings Joseph to tears and I frequently feel tears welling up too because it holds out the hope that people who are estranged from one another in families might also one day be reconciled. Mendy throughout was making the point that Joseph had been thrown in jail and languished there probably resentful and enraged for a time at his brothers for selling him, until he came to the conclusion that this was G od’s doing and he had been given the specific mission to go before his family to Egypt so as to be able to provide for them when the famine came upon the land. He also related a story that tells of a Chasidic Rabbi who was put in jail in Russia with other prominent men. The prominent men complained bitterly at the injustice of their incarcerations, yet this Rabbi looked at the situation from a different perspective and suggested that his imprisonment was G od’s plan, and he had to continue his vision and mission from behind bars. That was the whole point.
According to Orthodoxy, we each have been given a mission to perform in this world. Some of us get put on the top of the heap where it is performed and some of us on the bottom. But it’s all G od’s doing to fulfill G od’s purpose. This idea of fundamental pre-destination I thoroughly reject because it seems to deny the fundamental thing that makes us fully human which is free will. I am at a loss to see how Orthodox Judaism can resolve this fundamental paradox in its theology. Perhaps Mendy might enlighten me on this point.
But the idea of changing your perspective as Joseph did when finding yourself in difficult circumstances, and seeing an alternative to what only appears to be negative, is a very good idea. This giving yourself permission to change perspective reminds me of a similar idea explored in the film Crossing Delancy where the young man tells a young lady of a man who always changed his hat when he needed a new perspective on life. By not allowing yourself to be overwhelmed by the situation, you give yourself time to consider alternatives and you may just find something positive and a new path to consider or to follow.
December 18, 2010
Parsha Va-Yechi Gen. 47:28-50:26
Mendy spoke of the Rebbe and his father-in-law, the older Rebbe who did not wish to be buried in Israel but in Queens, New York because they felt that it was important that holy men stay where they are when they die so they can make their place of burial a holy place as well as an inspiration to those who come to that place and pray. One Rebbe died in the heat of the summer, and the other in the bitter winter. Yet thousands stand on line for hours in heat and in cold for a few seconds of prayer in the place where they repose.
This was a good transitional point to the parsha where both Jacob and Joseph die and both request that they be borne out of Egypt. Jacob insisted that Joseph promise that he would be buried in the Cave of Machpela in Hebron where his parents and grandparents were interred, because the Pharaoh would not deny Joseph a promise made to his dying father.
There is a midrash which tells about Esau, Jacob’s twin brother, refusing to allow the sons to bury Jacob in the tomb claiming the niche was his despite the story that he sold that slot to his brother when Jacob buried Leah in the spot reserved for him. Naftali is told to race back to Egypt to retrieve the agreement and the brothers continue to argue. One of Dan’s grand sons is deaf and what is happening is explained to him. He can only see his grandfather being dishonored by not being buried, and not being use to arguing, debating, or the process of persuasion in which hearing people involve themselves, he kills Esau. The point that this midrash was making and that Mendy supported was that when people get involved in long discussions or arguments over a point they value, they often forget the purpose or the mission and may even allow themselves to be swayed by another person’s argument for the sake of being seen as open minded and politically correct when they know in their hearts it is a hollow argument. Mendy related a discussion with his nephew where Mendy ultimately ended the conversation because he was not going to be swayed about certain music, and he saw the continuation of such a dialogue as a waste of his time. Uncles as well as parents often have to say, “This is not open for discussion! Do it!” or “You will not wear me down on this. Deal with it!” Mendy has his truth and will not involve himself in an argument that will try to persuade him to think differently. Proselytizers, he said, who come to the door are not interested in discussing ideas, but are interested in getting you to listen to and accept theirs. They are interested in witnessing to you, not listening to what you have to say. I do believe that they have a cognitive disconnect when it comes to a truth different from their own and it is psychologically dangerous to allow in any doubt. I suspect Mendy, too, has a cognitive disconnect when it comes to his understanding of Judaism, but unlike the automatons who come to the door, I do believe Mendy has wrestled with G od. He’s much too spunky not to have questioned growing up, and he is just too bright not to have raised challenges as he grew to manhood. If Mendy, whom I admire and honor for his knowledge and faith, and I ever did have a dialogue, it would likely end with a respectful agreement to disagree. I often say to my students, “Can we disagree passionately, and still remain friends?” I have never met a student who said we could not.
Another part of the parsha dealt with Jacob calling his sons to him for their blessings. The first three are not blessing at all, but a recounting of shameful behavior caused by his three eldest sons. How the rabbis can twist these outrages into blessings I am at a loss to know. Reuven, the eldest, is reminded how he fornicated with one of Jacob’s second wives. Now this was a tradition in ancient Mesopotamia that the heir apparent, to establish his right to head the tribe, bedded down with one of the former chief’s wife. An interesting tradition, but not recognized by Jacob and recalled at his death. Levi and Simeon likewise conjure up the shameful murders they committed in Shechem that threatened the entire tribe. But in those lawless days, letting others know what you were capable of doing was also a warning to others who might come against you or disrespect your sister. The rest of the brothers receive blessing although some of them are short and cryptic. Judah and Joseph come out well, and Jacob also adopts Joseph’s two sons, Ephraim and Manasha making them half-tribes and granting them a portion in the Land of Israel. The sons take Joseph’s portion. It is also interesting to note again that Jacob places his right hand upon the head of the younger son, again demonstrating that primogeniture is not the Jewish way of inheritance. We were to establish something of a meritocracy where anyone, through his own merit, could exceed his older brother. It was a pattern that began with Cain and Able and continues throughout our history. Jacob knew this very well having spiritually excelled well beyond his older brother Esau. In fact, we bless our sons in the names of Manasha and Ephraim because these two boy, raised in the glitz of Pharaoh’s world, chose to honor their father’s faith and the G od of their forefathers.
December 25, 2010
Parsha Shemot
This parsha begins the second book of the Torah and introduces us to Moses, the greatest moralist who ever walked the earth. It is the morality that Moses writes that becomes the foundation for the morality of Western Civilization, and it enters Western Civilization via the Greek translation of the Torah called the Septuagint which is adopted by the Christian world. (Mendy did not say this, but I think it is important for people to know that this is the second key contribution the Hebrews gave the world. The first is an ethical monotheistic G od. Of course, we’ve been hated and ridiculed for these gifts since we gave them, but a stable society and a stable civilization cannot exist without a moral code or an authority behind it. The Talmud says that “the hatred comes from Sinai.”)
Mendy raised a question that was posed to him by a congregant who wanted to know, “How one acquires and keeps one’s faith in G od? Mendy began to refer us to the moment in Exodus when Moses encounters the burning bush and asks G od His name so he will be able to tell the Israelites who has sent him. G od responds and Moses continues to press Him, saying that “I shall be what I shall be,” will not cut it. So G od continues and Moses is not satisfied until G od says, “Tell them that I am the G od of their ancestors, Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob and that I hear their suffering and that I will be with them.” Moses is satisfied, but continues to complain that he doesn’t speak well. G od is getting annoyed at his reluctance and appoints Aaron to be Moses’s mouth piece. That seems to satisfy Moses.
The point that Mendy was making to the congregant was that we must go back to the patriarchs Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob, and the matriarchs in our lives, recognize from whom we are descended, and teach their ways and laws to our children and grandchildren. Our participation in the yiddishkeit of these ways and laws will enable us and them to develop a relationship with G od that will be handed down through the generations. Do first, and faith will follow. In short, if you act like a Jew and remember who you are, faith will come.
(This saddened me tremendously because four out of my nine grandchildren are not being afforded a Jewish education, and will never know the beauty of our faith. They also live very far away so I have no tangible effect on their lives, and when I have made the effort, I have been told to “back off.” When I think of my personal failures, a major one is that I was never able to convey to my own family the beauty and benefits of keeping Judaism in their lives. Yiddishkite is an alien concept.)
But that was not what the congregant wanted Mendy to address and restated the question. Basically, he wanted to know how one cannot doubt G od considering all the events in the world and in one’s life that pulls a person away from a belief that G od cares and is in control. Mendy, said that though he was not prepared to answer such a complex question, like Hillel, standing on one foot to summarize the Bible, Mendy, too, rose to the occasion as he usually does and expounded with a response that was both complex and enlightening. It dealt with miracles and why it would be devastating to humanity if all fully believed with out a doubt in G od. In my mind it was as if terrible things happened just to provide a challenge to belief.
Doubt is essential, for without doubt there are no choices. Questioning is essential, for without questioning, there is no free will. At this point I could see some Kabbalistic teachings come into his response as well as some Spinoza although I doubt if Mendy would acknowledge Spinoza. First Mendy said that everything before creation was G od and everything that is creation is G od. That’s Spinoza! Mendy, deal with it. But Mendy immediately left Spinoza when he said that G od infused Nature with an entity that causes Doubt. It has a name, but I don’t recall what it is. Then he told us that G od’s reason for creating us was to see if we could come to know Him and continue that effort despite the challenges and Doubts He would place in the paths we take in our search for Him. The bad things that happen to us seems to me to be part of that process G od is using to cause us to doubt his existence. It’s like hide and seek with G od hiding and us trying to find Him. (Not a very mature or comforting aspect of our theology. Life is too serious for such games, and what can be the purpose? Why does G od need so much proof of faith? Within this past year, two of my friends lost their sons to cancer. One was 42, and one was 19. They remain Jews but G od no longer is in their equations. So now that G od knows that there are four more people who have lost their faith because the challenge that was placed was just too much, is G od increased or decreased. And does He care one way or the other?)
Entities such as Doubt with seemingly sentient qualities, is all very allegorical. I couldn’t help but wonder if this entity was connected to the satan which is an entity that gets in the way of what we wish to do. This Doubt, this entity that seems to be hidden in everything we experience seems to be essential to our faith, because this Doubt, also like the Jealousy in the Cain and Able story, is always crouching at the door ready to spring. Science is very much part of Doubt. (Einstein said that science is what is, and religion is what should be. There should be no conflict. I have my own ideas as to why G od created us, and they have more to do with an non-corporal Deity seeking to become more aware of itself through corporeal beings who are a physical manifestation of Itself. Or perhaps it was just because G od was lonely, bored, and decided to create just to have company and see what would happen with a being created in His own image. Personally, I don’t think G od has a clue as to what we will do next, and that is what keeps Him interested in us. But I digress.)
Mendy spoke of miracles as possible proofs of G od’s existence in our lives, but also pointed out that miracles and their effects do not last long. He cited any number of times our ancestors in Egypt and in the desert who saw the miracles still complained bitterly to Moses. Miracles did not bring a lasting faith. And once again, Mendy returned to the idea that if we had absolute proof of G od’s existence, there would be no challenge to us and we would become automatons. It is the challenge on the path to the knowledge that G od is with us and how we respond to that challenge that makes us who we are. It is not the destination, but the journey.
So who are we when the “slings and arrows of outrageous fortune” move us to stop playing G od’s hide and seek stratagem, give up the game, no longer care for a relationship with G od, or to be involved with religion? Who are we and who do we become when the challenges placed on our path are just too much to endure? I have been told that G od never gives a person a burden that they cannot carry. I do not know if that is a Jewish or Christian concept, but whatever it is, it is a horrendous rationalization or explanation for whatever horrors may befall a person. And when a person cannot carry the burden, goes insane, overdoses, climbs into a bottle, or commits suicide, does G od say, “Oops?”