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 

Say The Weather Down Here So Fine But Who Can The Weather Command ( Robert Hunter & Jerry Garcia - "Black Peter")

My wife’s family has been spending the Holiday of Sukkot with us. They live in California.  My three nieces and nephew have been amazed at how people deal with what they perceive as the rapid changes in the weather.  Sun and Rain, single digits overnight to low 20’s during the day; wind and calm; and all that might occur within a twenty-four hour period of time let alone a week. They watch us in amusement as we take tables and chairs in out of Sukkah in order to prevent the furniture from getting wet. Most of all they are impressed that whatever the weather may be, everyone quickly adjusts and continues doing whatever it is they were doing. A little drizzle doesn’t stop us from eating in the sukkah or prevent us from walking to wherever it is we are walking. We don’t just stay indoors and stop whatever we are doing. Also, if the weather is beautiful or even not so beautiful, we tell our children to go outside and play or plan some kind of activity outdoors knowing what we will be “hibernating” in a few months. We have all noted the irony of the weather. We can control our preparation for Yom Tov. We can control ourselves, and how we express our joy and happiness during Sukkot. We can control many things that enhance our Sukkot experience. But we all have limits to the extent of that control.

Among the most spiritually difficult texts is the 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 as “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 no holds barred 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 tempers 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 the 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.  With control comes responsibility. With power comes responsibility. Kohelet teaches us that we should celebrate the fact that we have so little control. Kohelet teaches us that we should derive joy from the fact that we don’t need to worry about the sunrise or the sunset. We shouldn’t be so terribly joyous when life comes into the world or upset when life leaves the world. Intellectually speaking, life and death are not within our control. Living our life is within our control. Living the best possible life is within our control. Living a life that has spiritual meaning and the acquisition of wisdom is the crux of our existence, the purpose of our living. So our Los Angeles nephew and nieces learned to appreciate a 12 degree sunny few hours because the rains came, the weather grew colder and they had to go inside. They began to appreciate that they couldn’t control the weather, only how to plan and respond. Interestingly enough, they definitely appreciated the weather in Los Angeles because they didn’t have to worry about such changes in the weather over the course of a day.

Peace,

Rav Yitz

The People Might Know, But The People Don't Care ( Robert Hunter & Jerry Garcia - "Black Peter")

It has been an exciting week in Toronto. For a while, the city was buzzing about its baseball team. The Blue Jays reeled off 12 straight victories before losing three games in a row to the N. Y. Mets. The Women’s World Cup began and Canada and the United States are winning the matches they are supposed to in order to get to the next round. Hockey enthusiasts were rewarded with 6 close and exciting even if another year has come and gone without Lord Stanley’s cup residing with Toronto’s beloved Maple Leafs. Yet for all that excitement, our home experienced some very real turmoil. My wife comes from San Francisco, and while she is not at all a sports enthusiast, when her home team is playing for a championship, well we all get kind of excited. My wife love all things Israel. She loves the food, loves the music, loves the cities, and loves the people. Yes, if it was up to her, we would have made Aliyah the day after we were married. For the past week, my wife’s hometown basketball team, the Golden State Warriors have been vying for the NBA championship against the Cleveland Cavaliers. Normally, this should not have caused any turmoil for my wife as she should have been completely supportive of her hometown team. Always the one to stir the proverbial pot, I shared some vital information about the Cleveland coach: David Blatt. First I told her that he went to Princeton University (I remember him in college). That bit of information certainly did not impress her. Then I revealed that he is Jewish. My wife’s interest was piqued. Yet she still could not be swayed about rooting for her Golden State Warriors. Then I shared the last bits of information. First, he played professional ball in Israel for several years. Second he coached Maccabi Tel Aviv for many years. Third he married an Israeli girl and made Aliyah.  Well my wife still cheered for her hometown team but she also was cheering for the “Israeli” coach. The series was fascinating to watch. One team had the best player on the planet LeBron James, and otherwise played undermanned as two of their starters were injured. The other team, Golden State, played as a team and didn’t rely only upon one player to do everything even though it had the league MVP in Stephen Curry.  Needless to say the better team beat the better individual. As heroic as the individual was in his efforts to carry the team, he understood that a championship is a collective success and losing the championship is a collective defeat.

This week's Parsha is Korach. Korach was a relative of Moshe's. They both came from the tribe of Levi. Korach questioned Moshe's authority. He did not do this during a private meeting between individuals. Rather, Korach gathered 250 supporters, and then publicly challenged Moshe. Moshe tried to keep peace within the community, but to no avail. A divine test is administered, and Korach and his supporters fail. The earth swallows them up. However God is angry and a plague falls upon the people. God speaks to Aaron and binds Aaron's line even closer to the rest of the tribe of Levi, and Korach's family. In a sense, they now have greater reliance upon one another. "Also your brethren the tribe of Levi, the tribe of your father, shall you draw near with you, and they shall be joined to you….. (Num. 18:2-7). 

Normally, as part of our modern perspective, we disapprove of communal punishment. Even B’nai Yisroel considered it unfair as they raise their concern to God. "Ha'Ish Echad Yechtah v'Al Kol Ha'Edah Tiktzof- shall one man's sin, and you be angry with the entire assembly?" (Num. 16:22). The answer is yes, there are times when communal punishment is most effective.  Rabbi Shimon Bar Yochai explained this verse with the following analogy. "A man on a ship took a drill and began to drill a hole under his own seat. When his companion asked him 'Why are you doing this?' he replied, 'Why should it bother you? Am I not drilling only under my own seat?' His companions look at him incredulously:  'But the water will rise up and flood the ship for all of us!' (Leviticus Rabbah 4:6). A community is a combination of symbiotic relationships. For B'nai Israel that symbiotic relationship was manifest in the role that each tribe played within the community. That symbiotic relationship was also manifest in Amcha's (the nation's) desire for God to dwell among it. If anything threatened God's dwelling among the nation, then the threat must be removed. Such a threat was removed from the camp in the previous Parsha when the man was corporally punished for violating the Sabbath when he was picking up sticks during the Sabbath Day. During that episode the community was not punished because the community did not follow the individual’s behavior, in fact the “community” was offended by the behavior and brought the issue to Moshe. However here in the rebellion of Korach, and even in the narrative of the Twelve Spies, the community stayed silent and passive. Their silence was condoning the behavior.

What do we learn from Korach's rebellion, and the ensuing communal punishment? First, we learn that a community cannot be polarized and hope to survive. That was the reason Korach was punished in the first place. Second, we learn that a community and its leadership must share in a common vision. Third, there must be room for disagreements to take place. There must be room to ask questions. Questions must be asked, and disagreements must arise and be dealt with in a way that focuses upon the welfare of the community, the welfare of the team and not the glory of the individual. Korach's demise demonstrates that questions and disagreements can never occur under false pretenses, arrogance, or in a self-serving manner.

Shabbat Shalom,

Rav Yitz