Thursday, March 28, 2019

I Go Walking In The Valley Of The Shadow Of Death (Sarah Doudney & Ira David Sankey - "And We Bid You Goodnight")


The fact that three people died this week is not such a statistical anomaly. Sadly, people die each and every week. The fact that there were three suicides this week is also not such a statistical anomaly. However, what makes these three deaths, these three suicides, so troubling are the circumstances of the three people who committed suicide. In Parkland Florida, two of the teenagers who survived last year’s Parkland High School shooting suffered from PTSD. Tragically, they couldn’t live with the guilt of having survived; and they took their own lives. Imagine being the parents, siblings, grandparents or friends of those two teenagers? The third suicide occurred in Connecticut. Jeremy Richman was 49 years old, a husband and a father of three children. One of his daughters, Avielle, was murdered in the Sandy Hook School shooting in 2012. Upon his daughter’s death, Mr. Richman, a research scientist by training, created a foundation to promote research into the brain pathologies and mental health issues that lead to violence. Tragically, families and communities that dealt with the horror of a mass shooting in Parkland Florida, or Sandyhook, Connecticut or anyplace where such a tragedy occurs,  need to grapple with the fact that there are always more victims. Not only must families and communities struggle with the immediate loss of life, we know that those who survive rarely do so unscathed. Sadly and tragically, it seems that they are vulnerable and at risk to become victims and statistics. How those families, and their respective communities dealt the initial tragedy and how they deal with these current deaths may go a long way in preventing future deaths due to suffering from survivor’s guilt and PTSD.
This Shabbat is known as Shabbat Para because of the special Maftir Aliyah. Following the weekly Torah Portion,  the Maftir Aliya discusses the offering of the Para Adumah (the Red Heifer). The weekly Parshat, is Shemini.  Parsha Shemini consists of three complete chapters, focusing upon the three parties necessary for the Brit (the covenant) of B’nai Yisroel: God, the Kohen, and B’nai Yisroel. While certainly, God is the embodiment of Purity, the second and third chapters of the Parsha explain how the Kohen and B’nai Yisroel are able to achieve a higher level of purity. All three parties: God, the Kohen and B’nai Yisroel, must remain spiritually pure otherwise the relationship cannot work. As long as any one is spiritually impure, then that impurity creates a buffer between God, the Kohen and B’nai Yisroel.
In the second chapter of the Parsha, there is a very brief narrative about Aharon’s two sons Nadav and Avihu. After Aharon completed his own purification process, thereby making him pure enough to begin making offering on the behalf of B’nai Yisroel, Nadav and Avihu brought an unsolicited offering to God. They were never commanded to bring an offering. The result of Nadav and Avihu’s inappropriate approach to G-d caused a tragedy. VaTeitzei Aish Milifnei Adoshem VaToChal Otam Va’Yamutu Lifnei HaShemA Fire came forth from before Hashem and consumed them, and they died before Hashem (Lev. 10:2).  His two sons were tragically killed by the “strange fire” that they offered to God.  Aharon's sons, like Aharon were public figures. In a sense their deaths were public and Aharon's mourning might also have been public.  In an attempt to protect his older brother, in a desire to shield him from shame and embarrassment, Moshe tells Aharon of the sad news as follows: Bikrovai Ekadeish V’Al Pnei Chol Ha’Am  EkaveidMoshe said to Aharon; Of this did Hashem speak, saying: I will be sanctified through those who are nearest Me, thus I will be honored before the entire people (Lev. 10:3). Even though Aharon was clearly a public figure, he did not make their deaths any more public than they already were. We all would have forgiven Aharon if he wept, if he questioned his faith,  or if he decided to take a few days off to grieve for his sons.  Yet, Aharon remained a paragon of faith and dignity. Vayidom AharonAnd Aharon was silent (Lev 10:3). While his son’s deaths were tragic, and certainly the news became public, Aharon’s response, and his behavior reaffirmed his faith. Aharon did not question, he did not fight, he did not complain or rail at the heavens asking “why me?” Instead, in Aharon’s silence, and his own private response to his son’s death, Aharon was able to grant Nadav and Avihu dignity and grace in their deaths.
When we feel most helpless in our confrontation with death and tragedy, perhaps we can learn from Aharon. For some people touched by tragedy and death, there will be a struggle with their faith. Hopefully, those that struggle will not only maintain their faith, but their faith will actually strengthen. There is a dignity in that struggle for the survivor as well as for the memory of the deceased. We know that there will be a possibility of overwhelmingly dark thoughts seeping into our soul. But those thoughts need to be acknowledged  and dealt with. As parents, our inclination is to protect our children from death. Over the years, I have learned that the best way to protect our children from death and tragedy is to create an environment where it is safe to talk about it and safe to grieve in each person’s own way. May the souls of those three individuals finally be at peace, and may all the families that have been touched by any tragedy, be aware of these new vulnerabilities as they struggle to deal with death and tragedy.
Peace,
Rav Yitz

Thursday, March 21, 2019

Come Wash The Night-Time Clean; Come Grow The Scorched Ground Green (John Barlow & Bob Weir "Cassidy")







One of the most indelible memories of my grandparents was the ritual of my grandfather taking out the garbage. Back in those days, there was no recycling, no separating paper and plastic and food. The ritual had more to do with the command given. The command would come from my grandmother, all 4’10” of her. She would only notice that the garbage needed throwing out when she was in the kitchen and he was not. So she would yell out his name tell him the garbage needed to be thrown out. All that was involved was removing the plastic sack from underneath the sink, tie it in a knot, walk out of the apartment into the hallway, open up the door to the garbage chute and let go. As a child, it was pretty fun to partake of this task with him and watch the garbage bag go down and then listen for the landing. Sometimes the landing would be muffled and sometime you would hear more stuff break. However as I grew older, so did they. The command never changed, nor did the fact that my grandfather would always be somewhere else in the apartment when she yelled at him to throw out the garbage. Usually, during my visit, I would be sitting in the kitchen as my grandmother felt obligated to give me something to eat or drink, that’s when the command would be issued. I learned to suggest to my grandmother that I would throw out the garbage and that she didn’t need to bother Grandpa. My grandmother claimed that he liked to throw out the garbage, maybe he derived the same thrill of listening to the garbage bag land that I did when I was a little boy. However, my grandfather explained that he didn’t really like it. However, for my grandfather, there was a valuable lesson in throwing out the garbage. As the President of a sportswear company, my grandfather explained that it was pretty easy to get caught up in the perks, the benefits, the “image” and the superficial. Throwing out the garbage, he explained, allowed him to retain his humility and that he wasn’t too important to engage in menial tasks. Menial work kept allowed him to maintain a sense of perspective, balance, and appreciation for everyone who worked an honest day.
This week’s Parsha is Tzav.  Like last week’s Parsha, Parsha Tzav focuses upon Korbonot (offerings). While last week we read of God’s commanding Moshe to teach the laws of Korbonot (Offerings) to B’nei Yisroel, this week we read of God commanding Moshe to teach the laws of Korbonot (Offerings) to Aaron and his sons. The Parshah concludes with instructions for Aaron and his sons to remain outside of the camp for seven days. These are the seven days required for spiritual and to some degree, physical preparation. The Priests must remain outside of the camp because they are in the process of purifying themselves for this extremely sacred and vital position, Kohen Gadol.
Besides Moshe, the Kohen Gadol was the most vital role within Israelite society. It was the Kohen Gadol that served as a vehicle for the common person to draw closer to God. When the common person or the king needed to atone, they would bring a sacrifice to God. However, it was the Priest that had to check for blemishes. It was the priest that had to slaughter the animal in a very precise way. It was the priest that had to sprinkle the blood.  Later on, it was the priest who became the “spiritual advisor” to the king. Unlike any other position, the priesthood was based upon lineage and was promised by God to Aaron for eternity (or as long as there was a Temple). Yet as important as this was for the welfare of B’nai Yisroel’s relationship to God, the Priest was eternally reminded of the importance of humility within a leader. V’hotzi et a Hadeshen el Michutz La’Machaneh el Makom Tahor-“and he shall bring the ashes to the outside of the camp, to a pure place (Lev 6:4).” Here is arguably the most important position within the community and he has to shlep the ashes out from the Mishkan. What’s even more amazing is what the Talmudic tractate Yoma teaches. The Talmud explains that the priests were so anxious to take out the ashes that a lottery system had to be introduced to pacify all those who wanted this “honor”. Anyone could have been commanded to take out the ashes. Why the Kohanim (the Priests)? Like all other aspects of the sacrificial process, the priests’ sole concern was the Temple and everything about the Temple. No task was below the priest. No aspect of the Temple remained untouched or unaffected by the Priest. The Sefer HaChinuch, a thirteenth-century work enumerating and explaining all 613 Mitzvot explains that Terumat HaDeshen is a positive commandment. The priest removes these ashes daily, and in doing so, he is enhancing the Mizbeach (the altar) and beautifying it to the best of his ability. Rashi adds that the priest would wear old clothes and nice his daily Priestly Vestments or his Holiday Vestments to do this type of menial work. All agree that the Kohen was never thought to be too important for such a lowly task.
So what can we learn from Parsha Tzav, and the Priest’s most menial of tasks? First, we learn just how vital it is for people to be willing to roll up their shirtsleeves and do some of the dirty work. After all, if family members or members of a community are unwilling to “to get dirty” for a greater purpose, then the purpose must not so great. Also if those in leadership positions within a family or a community are unwilling “to get dirty”, why should anyone else “get dirty? So on Thursday morning, it’s my job to take the trash and recycling to the curb. Our children know that they have their respective tasks and they know that they are responsible for and chores around the house. No one is so special that they are absolved from these tasks. Sure, they complain but I remind them that this is about developing character, independence, humility, and empathy. No matter how important we think we are, we always should be reminded to take out the ashes. We need humility in order to remind us of where we fit in, and who we are. Possessing this humility gives us credibility when dealing with anyone. Possessing this humility reminds us of how we should treat others as well as how we wish to be treated. Besides, it allows me to keep one of the lessons that my grandfather taught me alive and well in his great-grandchildren.
Peace
Rav Yitz

Thursday, March 14, 2019

Heard A Voice A-Calling, Lord You Was Coming After Me (Robert Hunter & Jerry Garcia - "Bertha")

My children love to play games with me. No, I am not talking about “Monopoly”, or cards, or any of those kinds of games. My children like to play a game called: “Ignore”. Have you ever heard of it? I am convinced that every home that has teenage children plays some iteration of the “Ignore” game.  I remember playing it with my parents when I was a teenager.   The game can be played at any time of day and under nearly any circumstance. The rules of the game are rather simple. The parent initiates play by calling out to the teenager by making a request of him/her. The teenager ignores the first request. The parent generally should wait not less than 30 seconds but not more than 60 seconds before calling out to the teenager with the same request. Again, the teenager ignores and again after another 30-60 seconds, the parent calls out for the same request, only louder and more specifically. “Hello, I am talking to you” or “can you hear me? I am talking to you.” Now the game changes slightly. The teenager needs to respond, and generally, the response involves a grunt, “Huh” or a question such as “what?” or a statement such as “Ok, Ok, I heard you” or “Ok, I’ll do it in a minute”.  Keep in mind, that those statements are code for “I am ignoring you doing something else that I prefer to be doing rather than anything you request.” Now the game escalates, the parent needs to close the physical gap, stand in front of the teenager and issue the request, thereby making the teenagers ability to ignore much more difficult. The teenager can escalate by ignoring or declining to fulfill the request. Now, the parent faces three alternatives and needs to quickly assess the importance of the request. If the request is unimportant, then the parent can end the game by ceasing to make another request. If the request is important then the parent can utilize leverage in a loud threatening way. However, this usually leads to a delay in fulfilling the request by engaging in a fight, at which point the teenager wins the “Ignore” game. The third alternative requires great discipline but offers the greatest possibility of a parent’s victory. The parent needs to get the teenagers attention and to focus upon the request. To accomplish this the parent still utilizes leverage however does so in a quiet disarming manner. When I was a teenager, I knew that when my father took off his glasses and squint/glare like Clint Eastwood and spoke quietly, that it was time for me to listen, and fulfill whatever request was being made. I never mastered the Clint Eastwood glare like my father. Instead, I try to close the physical distance, and with as much calm in my voice, as I can muster, I turn the request into a transaction. While my father relied on his inner Clint Eastwood stare; I rely on my inner Don Corleone and try to “make an offer they can’t refuse”. I try to speak quieter in a colder more calculating manner and begin with a confirmation that they will ultimately fulfill the request.  Then I make a business arrangement and tell them that I know what their more imminent requests will be and that I won’t be able to fulfill them unless my request is imminently filled. We agree on a reasonable timeframe for the request to be fulfilled and with mutually agreed upon deterrents to prevent potential “forgetfulness”. Then I say “thank you” and the Ignoring game concludes.

This Shabbat we begin the third book of the Torah, Sefer Vayikra by reading from the Parsha with the same name VaYikrah. For all of Bereishit (Genesis) and the first half of Shmot (Exodus), we read narratives. The Second half of Shmot, we read the blueprints of and then the actual construction of the Mishkan – the portable worship station that would accompany Bnai Yisroel on their Trek towards Eretz Yisroel. Now the Torah takes a break from narrative and construction. Now we begin reading the various types of offerings that Kohen Gadol, the High Priest, will make on our behalf. These offerings are the various means by which the individual or the community is able to approach Hashem. We approach Hashem for a variety of reasons, including special occasions for personal reasons: repentance, thanksgiving, and special occasions for communal reasons: seasonal festivals, or daily service.

We are familiar with the language that usually appears when Hashem speaks to Moshe. VaYomer Adoshem el Moshe Leimor Hashem said to Moshe saying; or VaYiDaBeR Adoshem El Moshe LeimorAnd Hashem spoke to Moshe saying. Now for the first and perhaps only time, Hashem neither ‘says’ nor “speaks” to Moshe. Instead, we read   Vayikrah el Moshe -God called to Moshe (Lev 1:1). ” Imagine, God calling out to a person before speaking? The word “VaYiKRa” ends with a letter that is in smaller font size than the rest of the letters that are found in the Torah. So clearly, this type of VaYiKRa is different than the typical kind of VaYiKRA with all the letters being the same size. Rashi, the 11th-century French vintner, and commentator explain that God speaks in a loud booming voice; a voice that can shatter trees and be heard throughout the world. However, this VaYiKRa, was only heard by Moshe. The calling was done so in a loving manner. The diminutive final letter – Aleph; suggests two possibilities.  First, Hashem whispered Moshe’s name in a manner that only Moshe could hear. Second, Moshe was humble enough, as symbolized by the diminutive letter, that his soul was receptive to God’s calling. The result of which Moshe quickly and eagerly responded with Hinneni“Here I am”.

I can’t imagine Moshe ignoring God’s calling out to him. On those rare occasions when my children don’t feel like playing their games, and they respond to my calling the first couple of times, they always seem surprised that I am nicer, easier going, and my request never seems so neither overbearing nor unreasonable. They even think that I am a good mood. Usually, their acknowledgment elicits a smile from me. I explain to them that no one likes to be ignored and that we get along so much better when we actually pay attention to one another, especially when we hear our names being called.

Peace,
Rav Yitz

Wednesday, March 6, 2019

Honest To The Point Of Recklessness Self-Centered To The Extreme (Robert Hunter & Jerry Garcia - "Althea)



There is a concept in Judaism called Cheshbon HaNefesh, an accounting of the soul. Cheshbon HaNefesh, similar to analyzing a balance sheet, Cheshbon HaNefesh forces the individual to engage in analysis of “where they are in their lives”. How far astray have they wandered from the most sacred and holy aspects of themselves? How far astray have they wandered from the best version of themselves? It is not a process that leads to a request for forgiveness although it is a process that may lead to an apology. It is not a process that leads to a request for mercy; although it is a process that may inform and direct others to avoid the mistakes that the individual made. It is not a process that generally occurs in public; rather it is a deeply personal and spiritual endeavor.  Last week and this week; it was possible to watch and listen to Michael Cohen as a case study in Cheshbon HaNefesh – a spiritual accounting of the soul. He offered no excuses.  His character flaw made him susceptible to all kinds of temptation, he did many bad things he was going to prison. His character flaw meant that he sacrificed the values and morals that he learned from his parents, he had become untethered to the code and behavior by which he was supposed to live his life. He knew that he had disappointed his family and himself.  He had just made an accounting, and where his misdeeds affected others, he apologized.  After the two days of hearings, it is quite clear that Cohen has become unburdened, spiritually cleansed and ready to do time, without noise, drama, fanfare or a pardon.
            This week's Parsha is Pekudei. It is the last Parsha of Sefer Shmot. The Parsha, in a very matter of fact way, provides us with an accounting of all the material that was used for the Mishkan. The Parsha, in a very matter of fact way, tell us all that Betzalel and Oholiab had done while inspired by God and their art. We derive this idea of "taking stock" from the first Pasuk. Eilah F'kudei Ha'Mishkan Ha'Eidut Asher Pukad Al Pi Moshe Avodat Ha'Leviim - These are the countings of the Tabernacle, the Tabernacle of Testimony, which was reckoned at Moshe's bidding (Ex.38:21). What follows is essentially a ledger of all materials that were used in the Mishkan's construction.  What follows is essentially a ledger of the order in which Betzalel, Oholiab, and B'nai Yisroel used these materials and actually constructed the Mishkan. Why do we need this accounting? We have been reading about the Mishkan for the last four Parshiot. However, it was not until now, when Moshe and B'nai Yisroel were able to look back at the process and see exactly how far along they have come. Think about it. For a lengthy period of time, B'nai Yisroel, as told to us in the Torah, had experienced an individual, communal and spiritual revolution. They watched Ten Plagues destroy Egypt, fled Egypt, and experienced the miracle of the Crossing of the Yam Suf. They witnessed the revelation at Sinai, received the Ten Commandments, panicked and built the Golden Calf. They began the Teshuvah process by bringing a half Shekel as a means of expressing atonement. They willingly brought their precious jewels and raw materials for the construction of the Mishkan. They came together as a community and they successfully constructed "God's dwelling place."
Certainly, there were specific events that we would deem as vitally important, including the actual exodus from Egypt, the Crossing of the Reed Sea, and the Revelation at Sinai. However, in each of these three pivotal moments, B'nai Yisroel behaved as individuals. During each of these three pivotal moments, one could argue that B'nai Yisroel was more reactive than proactive. After the Tenth Plague, following God's direct command, B'nai Yisroel left Egypt. After God opened the Reed Sea, B'nai Yisroel began to cross it. It is the Midrash that explains that B'nai Yisroel took the first steps into the water prior to God's miracle.  The Revelation at Sinai was a more reactive experience than a pro-active one. Even the Golden Calf fiasco could be argued as B'nai Yisroel's response to the fact that Moshe delayed his descent from the mountain. B'nai Yisroel only acts pro-actively when they willingly bring their donations in order to build the Mishkan. Those donations were a proactive expression of their engaging in Teshuva, Repentance.  For this generation, constructing and completing the Mishkan, was perhaps its greatest achievement.  For the time being, they were finally pure of soul and pure of heart. They understood what it meant to be a community, a holy community, and the Mishkan was an expression of that. Therefore when B'nai Yisroel completed this transition to “peoplehood” culminating in the completion of the Mishkan; it makes sense that an accounting of the Mishkan's construction would occur.
  From Moshe's "accounting", we learn something very important about human nature. As individuals, as part of a team and as part of a community; we need to do Cheshbon HaNefesh, an accounting of our souls. While it is certainly important to do Cheshbon HaNefesh at prescribed times with the community (Yom Kippur for example); it is also vital that we engage in this process when we have survived and successfully or unsuccessfully navigated through a transition.  These transitions and changes are not necessarily confined to lifecycle events or the calendar but as a part of life in general; and certainly when about to begin a new and difficult phase of life. Parsha Pekudei reminds us that we must possess the self-awareness to step back and look back at the process and own it, and if it is appropriate, mourn it, celebrate it, or learn from it. The result is that when the time comes for the next project, (The Holy Temple), the next national endeavor (Bnai Yisroel’s entry in to the land of Israel), the next hardship to be faced or the next joyous occasion to celebrate; Cheshbon HaNefesh will lead to thoughtful and correct decisions that are to the benefit of the person and the community.

Peace,
Rav Yitz