I Have Spent My Life Seeking All That's Still Unsung (Robert Hunter & Jerry Garcia- "Attics Of My Life)

           Well, the unofficial end of summer is upon us. It is Labour Day Weekend. Indeed, summer came and went, our children headed off to where they are supposed to be, and I quietly celebrated a birthday.  Yep, another year has gone by. My beard is grayer and while I am thankful for the hair on my head, it is grayer as well. I have never been a big fan of birthdays. I always like to spend them quietly. While some in my family prefer some extraordinary family activity or party, I prefer a round of golf, sitting by a swimming pool, reading a book while my kids swim, and then grilling some steaks and eating dinner outside with my wife and children. Usually during golf, while I am admiring the scenic beauty, while I watch my children playing in the pool, or while I am grilling dinner; I have an opportunity for a bit of self-reflection. This year, I spend my birthday returning home from dropping our daughter off at college in Maryland.  I had lots of time to reflect while my wife slept and I drove through Maryland, Pennsylvania, New York, and eventually Ontario.  I thought about successes and failures, I thought about what my plans were after college, and where I am in terms of those plans. Have I realized any of my goals? Am I on course, or off course? If I am off course, am I so far off course that I cannot get back on course? For thirty-two years I have had a child in my house and my children have been at the forefront of every decision I have made. Have I accomplished anything? On one level, the self-reflection exercise can be pretty brutal. There are times I feel like a complete failure except as a father.  I seriously wonder if I measure up to the standards that I set for myself way back when I had first left home and set out on my life’s journey. There are moments when this birthday self-reflection can be really quite depressing. Once in a while, there is a moment of contentment. I am always amazed by the differences between my idealized pristine life and my not-so-pristine life grounded in reality. 

        This week’s Parsha is Shoftim. Moshe has completed his lecture on the values of monotheism and covenant. Now he begins telling B'nai Yisroel all the nitty gritty details of living a Jewish life within this community. What a downer! B’nai Yisroel is inspired and ready to enter Eretz Canaan and begin living life in the land that God had promised their ancestors. They are now ready to begin fulfilling the dream that allowed them to survive centuries of slavery. So what does Moshe Rabeinu do? He brings them crashing back to reality. Now they will listen and understand laws concerning war, punishments for idolatry, choosing a king, jurisprudence, priestly entitlements, and unsolved murders. Moshe gives B’nai Yisroel a healthy dose of reality by supplying all the details required to uphold the Covenant.

        One of these laws is rather curious yet serves as a reminder of how important it is to maintain a balance between dreams and reality, between the idealism of our youth and the cynicism of age. V’Hayah Ch’shivto Al Kisei Mamlachto V’Chatav Lo Et Mishnei HaTorah Hazot – And it shall be when he sits on the throne of his kingdom, he shall write for himself two copies of this Torah in a book… V’Haitah Imo V’Kara Vo Kol Yemei Chayav Lema’an Yilmad L’yirah et Adonai Elohav – It shall be with him and he shall read from it all the days of his life, so that he will learn to fear the Lord his God, Lishmor et Kol Divrei HaTorah Ha’Zot V’Et HaChukim Ha’Eilah La’Asotam – to observe all the words of this Torah and these decrees, to perform them so that his heart does not become haughty over his brethren and not turn from the commandment right or left so that he will prolong years over his kingdom, he and his sons amid Israel (Deut. 18:18-20). The king must write and maintain two Sifrei Torah. The “personal” Torah must be carried with him wherever he goes: meetings, wars, benefit dinners, etc. The Torah must always remain physically near his heart. However, the second Sefer Torah sits in the treasure room as a pristine copy, as a benchmark. This “benchmark” Torah remains enclosed, protected, and untouched. The king may consult it, but this pristine copy never leaves the sanctuary. How brilliant! The “personal” Torah that is carried around eventually becomes worn, the letters fade, and the parchment may even tear. This would most likely occur unbeknownst to the king. Yearly, the king must lay his “personal” Torah besides the “benchmark” Torah. There, in the inner chamber, the two Torahs are checked against each other. Then if there are any discrepancies in the “Personal” Torah, the king must make the necessary corrections. The king’s “personal” Torah must reflect the purest and highest standard. Through daily wear and tear, through the compromises necessary to manage a kingdom, the king must regularly check to make sure that he has not gradually drifted away from the “Pristine” or “Benchmark” Torah.

        This is the ultimate form of personal “Checks and Balances”! Instead of waking up one morning thirty-two years later with the kids all grown up and moved out of the house wondering “What’s become of me”; Judaism understands that we all make compromises. Sometimes we may even, unfortunately, compromise our integrity our values, and our own sense of propriety. Sometimes our drift from the ideal is not even that pernicious. Sometimes we just slow down or get sidetracked. However, Judaism is about behavior that expresses our relationship with each other and with God. Like a king that needs to periodically check his “personal Torah” against the “Benchmark Torah”, we also must check our “Personal Torah” against the “Benchmark Torah”. Certainly, the process may be uncomfortable, and yes, there is the danger of becoming so self-absorbed that we become so paralyzed that we are unable to move our lives forward. There is a very real danger that we can be hard on ourselves that we lose sight of the good. Thankfully, the process occurs on a regular enough basis that we don’t become so paralyzed that we are unable to enjoy a round of golf, watch the kids swim, enjoy a steak dinner with the family, or appreciate the beautiful scenery while driving from Maryland, through Pennsylvania, New York, and Ontario or even appreciate the quiet blessings of another birthday.

Peace
Rav Yitz

Where All The Pages Are My Days, And All My Lights Grow Old (Robert Hunter & Jerry Garcia - "Attics Of My Life")

          Shimon Peres passed away earlier this week. It was interesting to note that earlier in his political career, there were moments where he was reviled by Israel’s electorate and was beaten on several occasions for the Prime Minister position. Eventually he did serve as Prime Minister. However even as Prime Minister, he never enjoyed resounding political support. Yet Peres managed to persevere and even transcend his lack of Israeli popularity to forge the Oslo Peace accords in the early 1990’s. It was only as he grew older holding his last position as President when he began to truly enjoy a popularity as a statesman, a popularity that was long overdue. Perhaps his lack of popularity was a result of his courage, courage to act and do the unpopular and the difficult.

            This week’s Parsha is the Parsha Nitzavim. According the Aggadah, this 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 wood chopper 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 in perhaps the most wonderful fashion. 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 Parsha Nitzavim, we learn that while impending death is sad, death in the manner of Moshe’s can take on an aura of holiness – of Kedusha. 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 Succot, when we recite the 27^th 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. Shimon Peres had that kind of strength. Both had the spiritual capacity to be aware of the end of life, to prepare for it, to draw loved ones toward them and share that wisdom. Perhaps that is the epitome of courage.Shimon Peres spent his transmitting his love of Israel and the Jewish People. He spent a lifetime teaching and cajoling the Israeli electorate and the world that Israel must be counted among the nations and that she has the strength to make peace even if its not the popular thing to do. Shimon paid the price and earned the praise of the world for those beliefs. As an old year winds down and a new year begins, may we have the strength  of our morals and our character to teach those values to the next generation.

Peace,

Rav Yitz.

I Have Spent My Life Seeking All That's Still Unsung (Robert Hunter & Jerry Garcia - "Attics of My Life")

It’s hard to believe but our family has already marked the Shloshim of my grandfather’s death.  Over the past few weeks, I have spoken with my parents much more frequently than normal. Our conversations have been about Grandpa, sharing experiences, and sharing our sense of loss. My children have also spent these past few weeks asking about their great- grandfather. Sharing these stories with my children or commiserating with my parent usually causes me to smile as I think about my Grandfather. However it is the quiet moments, when my wife and kids are asleep, and I see a picture of my grandfather that I close my eyes and think of some of the things he has said to me. As he grew older, as his family grew, as we made our way in life, I can still the see the look on his face when we would all be together. He couldn’t belief that he was the patriarch of this family, blessed with children, grandchildren and great grandchildren. He often shared with me how he knew he was blessed, he also wondered what he did right to deserve such feelings. As he grew older and sensed his own deterioration, he shared this “spiritual awareness” with me more and more. The last conversation I had with my grandfather while he was still knew who I was, expressed his acknowledgment that he was and led such a good life.  As he said goodbye to me, he complimented me on my family: my wife, three daughters and son. He reminded me to take care of myself and “take good care of that family of yours.” I joked and told him that they were his family too. He laughed and said “that is why I am reminding you to take care of them.”  

            This week’s Parsha is the Parsha Nitzavim/VaYeilech. According 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 in perhaps the most wonderful fashion. 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 Parsha Nitzavim, we learn that while impending death is sad, death in the manner of Moshe’s can take on an aura of holiness – of Kedusha. 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 can carry the heaviest load. We think of the person who doesn’t cry, who remains stoic, even if he/she is all torn up inside. At this time of year, from Elul through Succot, when we recite the 27^th 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. He was aware of the end of his life, he prepared for it, he drew loved ones toward himself and told them his thoughts, and his concerns. In a sense, this final action is the epitome of courage.

            Now, I realize the significance of his saying goodbye to me like that while he still had his cognitive faculties. I have to believe that somewhere deep down, he understood what was happening to him and what would eventually result. So before his condition worsened, before his memory was so diminished; he needed to impart one more bit of wisdom, one more bit of fatherly/grandfatherly advice, a few words that would give me a sense of purpose even when I mourn for him.  “Take care of your family”, not only for my sake and their sake, but for his sake as well. It is the quiet moments when I think of those words, and see my children and my wife asleep; I realize that I not only have a responsibility to my wife and children, but I have a responsibility to my grandfather as well. Through the tears, I smile to myself and know that I have been blessed: blessed to have been his grandson, blessed with a wonderful wife and four terrific children. As we observe the last Shabbat of 5774, we should all take this time to appreciate the blessing of the past year.

Peace & Shanah Tova,

Rav Yitz