If You Find The Secret, Tell Me How To Build A Mold (Ron 'Pigpen' McKernan - "Chinatown Shuffle")

Despite the most recent blast of winter during this final week of February, I was reminded that that winter is nearing its cold dreary conclusion. My son and I were reminded of the inevitable conclusion of winter the other evening. With my son sitting and studying downstairs, I happened to be watching my news show. During the commercial, I did a bit of channel surfing and landed upon the Major League Baseball network.  My son looked up from his studies and we gave each other knowing smiles. There it was, a beautiful sunny day in Florida, two teams that neither of us actually care about, and yet we sat there on the sofa watching mesmerized. We were watching baseball! Yes, it is only spring training. It was meaningless. Yet we couldn’t move. The grass was green, the field was well manicured, the fans and the players were having a relaxed wonderful time. My son and I understood immediately that the baseball season was nearing its start and with it the end of winter and the eternal home of spring. We watched a few innings and listened to the announcers talk baseball. The players interacted with the “snowbird” fans. The interviews with the players were more relaxed. The fans were much closer to the field than in a typical major league baseball park. The relaxed atmosphere of the game made it more approachable, and pure. Young draft picks were trying hard to make the team, and grizzled veterans were trying hard to remain on the team. This is where the Baseball Gods dwell, in the simplicity of the spring training facility, in the spring air, and the eternal hope and optimism of a new season.

            This week’s Parshah is Terumah. Terumah means “a portion”. In the context of this week’s Parsha, the portion in question is the portion of wealth that B’nai Yisroel would dedicate to the construction of the Aron, the ark that would hold the Luchot Habrit (the stone tablets upon which the Ten Commandments were written), the lamp, the table, and the material for the Ohel Moed (the tent of the meeting). All of which comprised the Mishkan or the Tabernacle. If you are in construction, interior design, or architecture, the details in Parsha Terumah are fascinating. If you’re not in any of those occupations then all the details might seem, shall we say, a bit dry. Whether a fan or not, whether an architect or not, there are certain things that we can all appreciate, and there are certain concepts that increase our appreciation and perspective for the Mishkan as well as the ballpark. Moshe was told: V’Asu Li Mikdash v’Shachanti B’tocham- “They shall make a sanctuary for Me so that I may dwell among them” (Ex.25:8). What follows is the details and decor of a place where the people were able to approach God. If they build according to plan, then God will reside there. If they behave according to G-d’s Torah then G-d will dwell among them.

 I know what you’re thinking. “ Isn’t G-d everywhere?” “If so, how can G-d only reside in the Mishkan?” One way to understand the verse is in terms of our needs, the community’s needs. If B’nai Yisroel builds it, he will dwell among them. Certainly, G-d resides everywhere. However, the verse is incomplete. If they build it, yes, G-d will dwell among them. If G-d dwells among them, that is the entire community, then the entire community must have a central gathering place, the Ohel Moed (the tent of the meeting). The difference, of course, is that the Mishkan was built so that G-d could be among the people in the present. The spring training stadiums are frequently sold out because baseball fans yearn for a  place for people to go that reminds them of something simpler and more romantic – their childhoods.

As I have grown older and I watch my children grow, I have started to appreciate that God dwells in some fascinating places. God dwells in the imaginations of small children and the wonder with which they see the world. God dwells in the questions that our children ask, or the concern they express when they see suffering or injustice in the world. God dwells with the family that has been struck by the loss of a loved one but has rallied together to offer support and sustenance to each other. No wonder my kids think I am crazy. They want to grow up already, speed up the process. I want to return to the carefree days of my childhood, playing catch with my friends without a care in the world because God dwells in our ability to return to the more innocent and pure days of springtime.

Peace,

Rav Yitz

They're A Band Beyond Description Like Jehovah's Favourite Choir (John Barlow & Bob Weir - "Playing In The Band")

Our 11th-grade daughter plays on her high school’s volleyball team. This week,   her volleyball postseason tournament which culminated in the championship game took place this week. Forgetting the outcome of the team’s tournament performance; our daughter has grown and matured in a manner that can only occur as a result of participating in a team sport or group activity. I played basketball for my High School and I played two years of college basketball. That experience continues to be an importance influence in how I view my family, my friends, my job, my community and functioning as an observant Jew. We noticed similar changes in each of our children as they participated in a team or in a long term group project. Our volleyball playing daughter has taken greater initiative at home, and at school. Playing volleyball has taught her the importance of teamwork, doing one’s job, putting aside individual accolades for the good of the team, and working hard towards a common goal. I was particularly fascinated when she expressed frustration when a teammate seemed to be a bit lax in their effort in practice, and I was just as fascinated as she expressed frustration when she sensed that some of her teammates didn’t appear to understand that the team was more important than the individual.                

This week’s Parsha is Vayakahel. Following the sin of the Golden Calf and Teshuvah (repentance), B’nai Yisroel begins executing God’s instructions for the Mishkan, the Ark, and the Tent of the Meeting. We recall that when God gave these instructions to Moshe, God started from the middle of the structure (the holiest point of the structure) and worked out towards the outer walls of the structure. God gave instructions beginning with the building of the Aron (the Ark), and concluding with the walls of the Tent of the Meeting. When B’nai Yisroel begins the building process, they begin with walls of the Tent, and then conclude with the altar and finally the Ark. 

After the destructive behavior of worshipping the Golden Calf, B’nai Yisroel comes together and shares a common constructive experience bound by a common goal. Their goal is to complete the construction of the Mishkan. The common experience is their contributions of raw materials. V’Yavo’u  Kol Ish Asher Nasahu Libo V’chol Asher Nadvah Rucho- Every man whose heart inspired him came; and everyone whose spirit motivated him brought the portion of God for the work of the Tent of the Meeting, for all its labor and for the sacred clothing (Ex.35:21). By participating in this constructive process, everyone had an opportunity to repent for the sin of the Golden Calf and for its lack of faith. If viewed as a process, B’nai Yisroel began on the fringes, idolatry, and after repentance, began moving towards the Holy of Holies. First, they built the walls of the Tent of the Meeting, the altar, then the Holy of Holies. For the vast majority, we approach God in a similar way. As we become inspired, we are drawn towards Judaism. As we become motivated, we dedicate a greater portion to God, both in terms of Tzedakah and time. It is very rare when our motivation or dedication comes as a result of a “bolt of lightning” or some existential metaphysical sign or wonder. No, our motivation and dedication is a result of our recognition that there is something missing in our lives. We miss meaning in our lives. We miss contentment in our lives. We miss peace in our lives. Certainly, we can be happy without meaning. Certainly, we can be happy without contentment. Certainly, we can be happy without peace. Why? Happiness is rather fleeting and quite often it is the result of some external factor. Meaning, contentment, and peace are ultimately internally influenced and far less fleeting.  Our movement towards God, our movement towards greater observance, is a series of steps. We don’t begin as a Tzaddik observing all mitzvoth.  Rather, one mitzvah leads to another, learning leads to more learning which eventually leads to doing.

We learn several vital lessons from this Parsha. First, we learn that Judaism requires two parties, God and B’nai Yisroel. Both must exist together in a balanced relationship. When God and Torah become so far out of reach, B’nai Yisroel will become alienated and turn to idolatry, such as the Golden Calf, crass materialism, money or some other type of “God”. When B’nai Yisroel fails to elevate itself in Kedusha, in holiness, then we fail in our dual mission: make our lives more meaningful and spiritual; “be a light among the nations”. However, when we enter into a highly participatory and shared communal experience, such as building the Mishkan, or any project or program that we build, we must sacrifice some of our personal needs for the well-being of the community. Second, we learn that when the community shares a commons sense of purpose, something wonderful happens. We achieve that balance between God and ourselves. The result, of course, is that God will dwell among us. God’s dwelling among us makes our community a little warmer, a little kinder, and more significant. Third, we also learn that the actual construction process requires hard work. B’nai Yisroel, like any team, shared in the task’s difficulty. Greater participation made the experience that much more meaningful. When the experience is more meaningful, then the reward will be greater. What is the reward? The reward is a community that shares simchas (joyous occasions) and tsuris (sad occasions), victories as well as defeats. The reward is that no individual member of the community should ever feel alienated and alone. The reward is a community that strives for growth and improvement. This brings more meaning to the life of the individual, the family, and the community.

Peace,

Rav Yitz

Like A Child She Is Pure, She Is Not To Blame ( Robert Hunter & Jerry Garcia "Help Is On The Way")

Finally, we thought it would never happen. We waited and waited. Even suffering through a snow day and the interminable shoveling of the driveway, the melting and the eventual re-freezing of the snow, we have muddled our way through winter. Now finally, the first vestiges of spring are here. My children have been listening to me for weeks, literally counting down the days. And this week it happened. No, it is not quite spring in Toronto or anywhere in the Northeast. But the other day, I forced my children to watch the sports highlights. There they were, stretching, joking, jogging and tossing the ball. Pitchers and catchers have reported to spring training and position players will be down in Florida and Arizona in a few more days. Spring Training is here, and my children think I am nuts. However, as I grow older, this ritual, this symbol of hope springing eternal, this childlike enthusiasm for being outside in the sun, and returning to the simplest aspects of childhood, reminds me of the simplicity and innocence of childhood. As a child I used to listen to the baseball games on the radio. The greatest thing was to be able to listen to spring training games on the radio. In the middle of February, I could imagine the simplicity of spring training stadium. I could imagine the colors, the breeze blowing, people casually dressed in their Florida spring clothing.  I could close my eyes and picture players laughing, casually signing autographs, relaxed and chatting with the crowd. More so than going to a major league ball park, attending spring training games was incredibly fun. Going to a spring training game is like going back in time to ones old childhood, playing with your friends on the local high school baseball field. It is approachable, it is pure. This is where the Baseball Gods dwell, in the simplicity of the spring training facility, in the spring air, and the eternal hope and optimism of a new season..

            This week’s Parshah is Terumah. Terumah means “a portion”. In the context of this week’s Parshah, the portion in question is the portion of wealth that B’nai Yisroel would dedicate to the construction of the  Aron, the ark that would hold the Luchot Habrit (the stone tablets upon which the Ten Commandments were written), the lamp, the table, and the material for the Ohel Moed (the tent of the meeting). All of which comprised the Mishkan or the Tabernacle. If you are in construction, interior design, or architecture, the details in Parshah Terumah are fascinating. If your not in any of those occupations then all the details might seem, shall we say, a bit dry. Whether a fan or not, whether an architect or not, there are certain things that we can all appreciate, and there are certain concepts that increase our appreciation and perspective for the Mishkan as well as the ball park. Moshe was told: V’Asu Li Mikdash v’Shachanti B’tocham- “They shall make a sanctuary for Me so that I may dwell among them” (Ex.25:8) What follows are all the details and decor of a place where the people were able to approach God. If they build according to plan, then God will reside there. If they behave according to G-d’s Torah then G-d will dwell among them.

 I know what you’re thinking. “Rabbi, isn’t G-d everywhere?” “If so, how can G-d only reside in the Mishkan?” One way to understand the verse is in terms of our needs, the community’s needs. If B’nai Yisroel builds it, he will dwell among them. Certainly G-d resides everywhere. However the verse is incomplete If they build it, yes, G-d will dwell among them. If G-d dwells among them, that is the entire community, then the entire community must have a central gathering place, the Ohel Moed (the tent of the meeting). The difference, of course, is that the Mishkan was built so that G-d could be among the people in the present. The spring training stadiums are frequently sold out because baseball fans yearn for a  place for people to go that reminds them of something simpler and more romantic – their childhoods.

           

As I have grown older and I watch my children grow, I have started to appreciate that God swells in some fascinating places. God dwells in the imaginations of small children and the wonder with which they see the world. God dwells in the questions that our children ask, or the concern they express when they see suffering or injustice in the world. God dwells with the family that has been struck by the loss of a loved one but has rallied together to offer support and sustenance to each other. No wonder my kids think I am crazy. They want to grow up already, speed up the process. I want to return to the carefree days of my childhood, playing catch with my friends without a care in the world because God dwells in our ability to return to the more innocent and pure days of springtime.

Peace,

Rav Yitz