Shaking In The Garden, The Fear Within You Grows (Robert Hunter & Jerry Garcia - "When Push Comes To Shove")

            Nearly four weeks ago, the Jewish people began the Jewish Holiday season. A new year was inaugurated, judgment was handed down, atonement was made, forgiveness was received, and thanks was given and we celebrated. Amid the pattern of eating sleeping and praying was the acknowledgment of cycles and seasons. We began these nearly four weeks during summer and concluded them with autumn in the air. We finished reading the Torah and now begin a new Torah reading cycle. I know that some people find transitions to be difficult, a time of angst, where we leave the familiarity of ”what was” to the anxiety of “what will be”. While we have experienced a transition from summer to fall, from the end of the Torah to the beginning of the Torah, from the conclusion of one year to the start of a new year, we have taken the time to ritualize and celebrate these transitions. Ritualizing transitions can be seasonal, “Spring Training” for example and it can also be developmental, a toddler going through “toilet training”, or a child finishing high school choosing and applying to universities. Well, I am too old to be dealing with a child going through “toilet training”. However, our son, our youngest child, is currently in grade 12. This year, with the conclusion of the Jewish Holidays, the season of visiting University campuses begins. So my son and took a drive and looked at a few campuses outside of Toronto. There will be more visits to campuses, in Montreal, upstate New York, New Jersey, and around Washington D.C. As we walked around those first couple of campuses, I forgot how much I enjoyed being on a University campus.     

           This morning we begin the Torah from the very beginning in Parsha Breishit. We are all familiar with the narrative of this Parsha. The first chapter focuses upon the narrative of creation from God’s perspective. The second chapter focuses upon the narrative of creation from a humankind perspective. The third chapter focuses upon Adam and Chava’s disobedience of God, their obedience to the serpent their partaking of the fruit from the Tree of Knowledge, and the resulting consequences. The fourth chapter focuses upon the family’s growth, sibling rivalry as well as fratricide. The fifth chapter focuses upon ten generations of the family’s genealogy beginning with Adam and Chava and concluding with Noach and his sons. In the sixth chapter, God expresses disappointment with mankind’s behavior and God expresses disappointment in his creation.

          There is a moment after Adam and Chava ate from the Tree of Knowledge, and they realized that they had failed to follow directions. VaTipakachna Einei Shneihem VaYeidu Ki Eirumim Heim – then the eyes of both of them were opened and they realized that they were naked. By eating from the Tree of Knowledge, their eyes opened.  They had become enlightened. They had become “aware” of their existence in context. They were not like other aspects of creation.  Despite this enlightenment and this awareness what do they do? VaYitChabei Ha’Adam V’Ishto Mipnei Adoshem Elokim B’Toch Eitz Hagan – and the man and his wife hid from Hashem God among the trees of the garden.  They tried to lose themselves amid the trees. So when God asks Ayeka – Where are you? God knows where they are. The problem is that they do not know where they are. They don’t answer the question.  Et Kolecha Shamati BaGan VaIra Ki Eirom Anochi VaEichavei – I heard the sound of You in the garden and I was afraid because I am naked, so I hid. This answers the question of why did you hide? But the answer to “where are you” is simple. It is an answer that more spiritually mature and aware people will offer. The answer to the question “where are you?” is “here”.   However, the answer “here” assumes that one knows where they were before arriving “here”. On a deeper level, answering “here” suggests that one has arrived at a final destination or at a point along the journey. Such an answer suggests that the person is not so lost. Perhaps the answer to the question “where are you?” is  “I am here now,”. The answer could even be, “I don’ know”. All these answers suggest “enlightenment”.  If Adam is enlightened because he ate from the Tree of Knowledge, Adam’s response is disturbing. He is not as enlightened as his descendent Avraham who will respond “Hineini -Here I am”. Nor is he enlightened to know that he is lost. To be lost suggests at least knowing the destination but not knowing how to get there. Adam can’t answer the question because he doesn’t know where he is going nor does he know from where he comes. He only knows that he is naked and without purpose. 

          As our son walked around the campuses, I could see both a sense of excitement and trepidation in his eyes. We acknowledged these seemingly contradictory feelings, and he understood that it was perfectly normal to be excited by the future and as well as be a bit nervous. Our son also understood where he was coming from, a home, a family, and a community that stressed the importance of higher education. He also realizes that he has intellectual interests as well as career interests all of which are predicated upon attending University. So, where is our son? He is “here”, exactly where is supposed to be in this transitional time, laying the groundwork, and preparing to eventually be “there”.  I find it very reassuring and comforting in the seasonality and developmental transitions.

Peace,
Rav Yitz 

Some Folks Would Be Happy Just To Have One Dream Come True (Robert Hunter & Jerry Garcia- "Mission In The Rain")

          Every year at this time my son and I get to bond while we assemble our Sukkah. As he has grown older, his help evolved from sitting and talking, to tightening bolts on the bottom, to carrying supplies, to tightening bolts above, to helping put up the skach (the sukkah’s roof), and now he as a point where he offers suggestions to improve and expedite the entire operation.  While we were putting the Sukkah together he shared with me something he learned in school. He explained that one of the commandments associated with Sukkot is to be happy. As a brooding, 17-year-old 12th grader who cannot leave high school quick enough,  our son thought that commanding joy and happiness or any emotion for that matter,  violate the idea of “free will”. He suggested that perhaps we can engage in behavior that causes joy and such as those associated with Sukkot: eating in the Sukkah and waving the Lulav and Etrog. He then asked a very poignant question. “Abba how can you be commanded to ‘be happy’ if you are in mourning?” I asked him what he meant. He explained that there must be so many aveilim - mourners since Covid, how can the Aveilim be happy?” I stopped what I was doing and told him that I wonder the same thing. It is hard to be happy when you have suffered a loss. How do we do resolve the tension between how we feel due to a loss and the feeling associated with Chag Sukkot?

          Among the most spiritually difficult texts is Sefer Kohelet the Book of Ecclesiastes. We read it in its entirety once a year on Shabbat Chol HaMoed Sukkot, the Intermediate Sabbath of Sukkot. According to the tradition, Shlomo HaMelech, King Solomon, towards the end of his life, wrote this Megillah, this scroll. Tradition has this perspective because the language is not one of optimism but rather realism. This is a person who has “seen it all” – Ein Kol Chadash Tachat HaShemesh – There is nothing new under the sun! And yet there is a certain harsh realism and a certain sense of harsh optimism. The author provides us with a cold, clinical sense of comfort. He does not coddle us. He does not baby us. Rather the author shoves our faces in this “reality” and gives us a perspective on how to deal with a world that is not as wonderful a place as we might have thought of in our youth, or even a few weeks ago. The question that so many of our sages have asked, is why is such a text, a text that does not offer such explicit hope, a text that does not offer explicit comfort, and is universally recognized as a “downer” of a text, why is such a text read on the holiday that is commonly regarded as Zman Simchateinu – the time of our joy?

        In Eretz Yisroel, the Autumn Harvest is complete. We unabashedly celebrate our joy on a physical level because of a successful harvest. We also unabashedly celebrate our joy for having been judged favorably by God, (Rosh HaShanah), having been the recipients of God’s mercy (Yom Kippur). On Sukkot, we are commanded to Samachta b’Chagecha – celebrate in your holiday. Yet, this text seems to diminish our celebration. While the nature of the Sukkot holiday is to celebrate our unrestrained joy in receiving God’s blessing, we also know that very often it is human nature to forget God and celebrate our achievements and ourselves. Kohelet reminds us that, like the fragile nature of the Sukkah itself, not everything is as much in our control as we think. V’Zerach HaShemesh U’Vah HaShemesh – the sun rises and the sun sets- no matter what we do, no matter how much control we may perceive that we have, at the end of the day, we are ultimately powerless. God is the ultimate cause of all things. The sun rises and sets because of God, not mankind. Kohelet helps us maintain our perspective. Kohelet reminds us that we are not the center of the world. Kohelet reminds us that for all the physical pleasures we seek, for all the material comforts we work hard to afford, such things are fleeting.

        So how can such a text offer us comfort? Well if we have the perspective of Kohelet, then we can understand how an elderly person, who has seen everything: man’s goodness, man’s evil, the joy of life, and the futility of life, offers us comfort.  Kohelet reminds us that there is only the Here and Now. The harvest and Thanksgiving that is associated with Sukkot reminds us that there is only the Here and Now.  The next cycle of planting, pruning, and harvesting is not in our control so why bother. Rather we celebrate that we arrived at Now. Yes, we may be scarred. Yes, we might have suffered horrible losses, perhaps devastating types of losses. Be we are here, sitting in the sukkah, shaking a lulav and etrog, and that might be worth celebrating. Being in the Now just might be reason enough to be happy.

          As we finished putting up our Sukkah, I finally figured out an answer for our son. Maybe the lesson of Sukkot and the commandment to be happy, “VeSamachata v’Chagecha”, is to remind ourselves to be happy with what we have, and not focus upon what we don’t have.  Indeed,  so many people have died from Covid, and yes, there are so many people who have mourned this past year and continue to mourn. Perhaps these Aveilim and anyone who has experienced the loss of a loved one is supposed to find joy and comfort in the blessings of wonderful memories, and the laughter that results when sharing stories about our loved ones.

Peace,
Rav Yitz

And It Speaks Of A Life That Passes Like Dew (John Barlow & Bob Weir- "Black Throated Wind")

           My wife is from California, and she has family in Los Angeles and San Francisco. So I read about environmental issues faced by the West with a bit of personal interest. At the end of August, there was a troubling article in the New York Times about the drying up of the Colorado River. The Colorado River supplies approximately 40 million people with water. My wife is from California. Lake Meade, the largest man-made reservoir, and the Hoover Dam are part of the infrastructure dating back from 1930 that regulates the supply of water for California, Nevada, Arizona, and New Mexico. The reservoir has not been completely filled since 1983. California has been experiencing a drought for the past several years. While California has done yeoman’s work to conserve water, drought has taken its toll. It is dry, it is parched. Several years of above-normal rainfall would be required to alleviate the drought.  Such torrential rains have occurred exactly three times over the past 135 years.   California’s current fires have burned a total acreage the size of New Jersey or the size of Israel. Eventually, the fires will be brought under control, but the drought conditions will continue. The dire need for precipitation will remain.

          This Shabbat, we read Parshat Ha’Azinu. Parshat Ha’Azinu was the “song” or the “Poem” that God had commanded Moshe to compose in the previous Parsha VaYeilech.  The content of this “song” is not very cheerful. Moshe invokes the heavens and the earth to witness these words that he gives to B’nai Yisroel. Moshe reminds B’nai Yisroel of their covenant with God. Moshe reminds B’nai Yisroel of their spiritual shortcomings and the ensuing punishment. He reminded B'nai Yisroel that despite all of these shortcomings, despite the idolatry, despite wavering from the covenant, we can still engage in T’shuvah, we can still return to God and know that God will welcome us back.

          In the poem, during the introduction, Moshe not only invokes Heaven to listen to these words as a testament to the prophecy offered to his people, but Moshe also hopes Ya’Arof KaMatar Likchi Tizal Katal Imrati Kisirim Alei Desheh Uch’revivim Aley Eisev – May my teaching drop like the rain, may my utterance flow like the dew; like storm winds upon vegetation and like raindrops upon blades of grass (Deut. 32:2). The word “teachings” in this verse comes from the verb LaKaCh or Take. The idea, of course, is a two-way street. Moshe’s words, his wisdom his teachings are offered to B'nai Yisroel. Moshe offers his teachings as a source of spiritual nourishment. His words, like water, are a life-sustaining force. The other half of the equation, of course, is B’nai Yisroel. B’nai Yisroel must drink in the teaching,  they must "take in" the words of wisdom, the nourishment, and the water that Moshe continues to provide up until his death, and make it part of their lives. When rain falls and it is not absorbed it pools together it forms a puddle. However, when water is absorbed, it nourishes, it maintains life it sustains vegetation, and it sustains our physical existence. Moshe’s words, in fact, all the words of the book of Deuteronomy are Moshe’s words. Moshe makes his final plea to B’nai Yisroel to listen to the wise words of an old and dying man. Moshe makes a final plea to B'nai Yisroel to “take” his words to heart, to drink them in, and incorporate them into life. For the Rabbis, a draught was not only a physical condition due to lack of water. A draught was a spiritual condition caused by a lack of Torah. After all, Torah is alluded to as “Mayim Chayim” living waters. Rain is categorized as Mayim Chaim. Mayim Chayim sustains physical life as well as spiritual life. Torah sustains our spiritual life.

          Moshe makes his last plea prior to his death. Like the land can be subjected to drought; so it is with the Jewish People. Without our “water supply”, without our heavenly rains, and gentle dew, we can suffer through spiritual drought, our souls dry up and we became empty. Torah, like the rain, comes from the heavens. From Moshe’s perspective, it is a limitless supply of spiritual Mayim Chayim, Living Waters. We need only study it, learn it, incorporate it into our lives and we will have a limitless supply of spiritual water, water that nourishes our soul, allowing it to grow in holiness.

Peace,  
Rav Yitz

Hoping Love Would Not Forsake The Days That Lie Between (Robert Hunter & Jerry Garcia - "Days Between")

           This Shabbat, September 11th, marks the 20th Yartzeit of the September 11th attacks. Since those attacks, the world has been a very different place. For the survivors and for the families of the victims, life became very different. For a generation of young men and women, they have grown up in the shadows of war. For many others, we certainly remember where we were, perhaps we knew someone who had perished, but for the most part, over the course of twenty years, people mourned, many adjusted to the new normal and some did not. Having just celebrated Rosh HaShanah, having just stood before God in judgment, the days leading up to Yom Kippur are known as Aseret Yemai Tshuvah, Ten Days of Repentance. It is a time in which we seek forgiveness from our fellow man ultimately leading up to Yom Kippur in which we seek forgiveness from God. The idea of Teshuvah, of repentance, is derived from the Hebrew word Shuv or return. When seeking forgiveness from our fellow man, and from God, we are returning to the purest most divine aspects of our souls. The Talmudic Sages explains that one should engage in TeShuva before one dies. Since we don’t know when that will happen, we therefore should engage in TeShuvah every day. As a result, the Aseret Yemai TeShuvah and it focus upon Repentance and returning to God requires that we strive towards spiritual clarity, a state of being in which we learn that no matter the pain, anguish, and emptiness our souls can remain content and able to always focus upon the goodness in life. 

        On this Shabbat, known as Shabbat Shuvah, we read from Parsha Yeileich. Moshe experiences, perhaps for the last time, a moment of clarity. However, of all the moments of clarity including the Burning Bush, the Revelation at Sinai, the Personal Revelation when he saw the back of God while defending B’nai Yisroel following the episode of the Golden Calf; it is the moment of death to which we can all relate. It is at the moment of impending death that Moshe has perfect clarity. He sees and understands the anguish that his children will experience as they drift towards and away from their Covenant with God. He sees all that his life has been and he recognizes that while his life will be no more, there will be closure. Ki Yadati Acharei Motie Ki Hashcheit Tashchitun v’Sartem Min HaDerech Asher Tziviti Etchem V’Karat Etchem Ha’Ra’Ah B’Acharit Hayamim Ki Ta’Asu et Ha’Rah B’Einei Adoshem L’Hachiso B’Ma’Asei Y’deichem – For I know that after my death you will surely act corruptly, and you will surely act corruptly, and you will stray from the path that I have commanded you, and evil will befall you at the end of days, if you do what is evil in the eyes of HaShem, to anger Him through your handiwork (Deut.31:29). We should note that closure does not necessarily mean that the content of the closure will be positive, however, the process of closure is always positive.

          Our sages are adamant about the vital importance of closure. When a person engages in Tshuvah, a spiritual return to God,  to re-engage with the holy presence, or Vidui, the confession immediately prior to death; these actions are tantamount to a person who has returned to living a life of Mitzvot. In moments of clarity, certainly, such a moment exists at death, Moshe has the opportunity to make that moment holy, sanctified, an un-wasted moment. For the survivors, such moments of clarity come at a funeral or a life cycle event that normally would have been shared with a loved one. Sometimes, clarity occurs during the unveiling, when the survivor can look back over the course of the year and see how far he/she has come from the devastating loss of that day a year ago. Sometimes, clarity comes at one's impending death. Sometimes clarity comes at a yartzeit, twenty years later.

Peace,
Rabbi Lipson

Just Want To Have A Little Peace To Die And A Friend Or Two I Love At Hand (Robert Hunter & Jerry Garcia - "Black Peter")

          Late last week, while  Americans and allied forces prepared to leave Afghanistan, and airlifting Afghanis who were able to get to the airport and had the necessary papers to leave, a suicide bomber killed over 100 Afghan civilians 13 U.S. service members: 11 Marines, one from the Army and one from the  U.S Navy. With 4 days before pulling out of Afghanistan, these 13 Service members, 12 of whom were between the ages of 20-23, and one was 31 lost were days away from going home, their families were days away from being reunited with loved ones. Not one of those 13 service members had a chance to prepare for their own deaths, to gather loved ones around them, tell them that he/she loved them.  So I watched 13 coffins arrive at Andrews Airforce base, 13 coffins treated with the dignity and the respect that the deceased should always be treated, and ultimately escorted to their families for burial. Each coffin was saluted by the President, the First Lady, the Secretary of the Defense, and other military brass.It was a somber moment and a powerful reminder of the importance of closure when dealing with the death of a loved one.

            This week’s Parsha is the Parsha Nitzavim. According to the Aggadah, this is the recounting of Moshe Rabeinu’s last day of life. Unafraid of his imminent death, he gathers his family: Rosheichem, Shivteichem, Zikneichem, v’Shotreichem, Kol Ish Yisroel, Topchem N’Sheichem V’Geircha Asher B’Kerev Machanecha Meichotev Eitzecha Ad Sho’eiv Meimecha – The heads of your tribes, your elders, and your officers, all the men of Yisroel; your children, your women, and the stranger who is in the midst of our camp, from the woodchopper to the one who draws water (Deut. 29:9-10). Moshe imparts his last vestiges of wisdom to his children, his people. Moshe wants to make sure that everything is in order when he dies and Joshua takes over. Moshe truly has been blessed. He has had the blessing of old age, and here God has granted him the gift of saying goodbye. God has commanded Moshe to say his goodbyes and impart the final vestiges of wisdom.

            We are taught that death is a part of life. Yet many of us are afraid of death. Many of us believe that we should shield our children from death, sadness and loss. However, when we read Parshat Nitzavim, we learn that while impending death is sad, death in the manner of Moshe’s can take on an aura of holiness – of Kedushah. It is in holiness that we attain the highest level of life, a life that is directly connected to God. When death comes like this, from God, with an opportunity to say Goodbye- with an opportunity to impart wisdom to one’s children, death is not mundane, death is not ordinary, but rather holy and part of life, the final expression of holiness in a very physical endeavor. When we talk of strength, we, unfortunately, think of the person who lifts a lot of weight. We think of the person who doesn’t cry, who remains stoic if he/she is all torn up inside. At this time of year, from Elul through Sukkot, when we recite the 27th Psalm and conclude with the words Chazak v’Ya’Ameitz Libecha, v’Kavei El Adoshem – Strengthen yourself, and he will give you courage; and hope to HaShem!, we now understand what it means to strengthen oneself.  Moshe had that kind of strength. To be aware of the end of life, to prepare for it, to draw loved ones toward and tell them how we feel is the epitome of courage.

         One of the service members was a 23-year-old Marine from California, Sgt Nicole Gee. Days before the attack, while helping Afghans get through the myriad of obstacles that separate them from freedom, she posted a picture of her cradling a little baby. She posted the picture on her social media account with the caption saying that this is why she loved her job. Amid a war zone, amid the chaos of an airlift and the stress of an enemy waiting for America and its allies to leave before they do whatever they want to Afghan citizens, Sgt, Nicole Gee was able to re-affirm life in a place and a moment where life was cheap and death seemingly close by. Sargent Gee, with that poignant picture, reminds us to reaffirm life no matter how difficult, no matter how troubling. The Jewish People are less than a week from celebrating Rosh HaShanah, (Jewish New Year). Rosh HaShanah is also known as Yom HaDin (Judgment Day). So while there is joy at arriving on the brink of a new year, perhaps there is a bit of anxiety while awaiting Judgment. The tragic deaths of those 13 service members should remind us that if we have that we should seize the opportunity to tell our loved ones, that we love them so that there is always closure.

Peace,
Rav Yitz

 there is always closure.

Peace,

Rav Yitz