But The Heart Has Its Seasons And Evenings And Songs Of Its Own (Robert Hunter & Jerry Garcia- "Eyes of the World")

           We just celebrated my father’s 81st birthday. As his children and grandchildren have watched him age, we are all very aware that he is just a little frailer, a little more fatigued, with a few more aches and pains than he used to have. It is part of growing old. Unlike twenty years ago, or even ten years ago, I am also becoming more aware of my aging father’s mortality. I call him more often, and I make more of an effort to visit. This awareness of our own mortal temporary existence is one of the themes of Sukkot and its corresponding text, 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 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. In North America, the summer harvest has been completed as well. 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), and 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 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 is 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 for our living. Struggling to acquire anything else is futile. Torah is the embodiment of Wisdom. Sof Davar Ha’Kol Nishmah et Ha’Elohim Y’rah v’Et Mitzvotav Shmor  Ki Zeh Kol HaYamim- The sum of the matter, when all has been considered: Fear God and keep his Commandments, for that is man’s whole duty. By doing so, we don’t need to worry about another Judgment on Rosh HaShanah; we don’t need to worry about God’s showing us mercy on Yom Kippur. We will have guaranteed that we have done everything in our control to make our lives meaningful. The joy in our celebration is the joy in our opportunity to acquire wisdom and internalize it.

Peace,
Rav Yitz

And The Seeds That Were Silent All Burst Into Bloom And Decay (Robert Hunter & Jerry Garcia - "Eyes Of The World")

          With the conclusion of Passover and the return of our house to normal, I find myself constantly referring to the Jewish Calendar.  Besides counting the Omer every evening since the second night of Pesach, I start checking the calendar because a new Jewish month begins shortly. I check the calendar because this week the Jewish people commemorated Yom HaShoah, Holocaust Memorial Day. Next week, Israel will observe Yom HaZikaron (Memorial Day) and Yom Ha’Atzmaut (Independence Day). I recently conducted a funeral for a Holocaust survivor. The woman died alone. She had no surviving family members. She never married, never had children. She lived with her sister and when the sister passed away she went into an old age home. The lawyer who looked after her estate explained this to me. Normally, I would meet with the family and ask all kinds of questions in order to get to know the story and the life of the deceased. The silence occurs after the family has shared numerous details about the life of their loved one and that silence is the silence of quiet peaceful pleasant memory. For the funeral of this Holocaust survivor, there was only the silence of an elderly woman’s life and an even more resounding silence in her death. There was no one to tell me about her life nor her death. Rather there was only silence.

          This morning we read from Parsha Shemini. The Parsha is comprised of chapters 9,10, and 11 of Sefer Vayikra. In the first chapter of the Parsha, Aaron has now been separated from the camp, and the people for 7 days. He has now become spiritually pure to make offerings on behalf of the people to God. He now makes the first public offering on behalf of the people and God accepts it. The second chapter is a narrative that tells us about Aaron’s two eldest sons, Nadav and Avihu. They want to approach godlike their father did, however, they are not spiritually ready. They offer “strange fire”, and are immediately killed.  Moshe instructs Aaron and his two surviving sons about the appropriate behavior that is necessary when making offerings on behalf of the people. The third chapter of the Parsha discusses all the animals that are permitted and prohibited under the laws of Kashrut.

        Upon the death of Nadav and Avihu, Moshe has to tell his brother Aaron of his son’s death.  Vayomer Moshe El Aharon Hu Asher Diber Adoshem Leimor Bikrovai Ekadesh V’Al P’nei Chol Ha’Am Ekaveid – Moshe said to Aaron: “Of this did God speak, I will be sanctified through those who are closest to me, thus I will be honored by this entire people.” (Lev. 10:3) In as touching and humane a manner as one will ever read, Moshe tells Aaron that his sons have gone to God. Aharon’s response is silence. Vayidom Aharon – and Aaron was silent (Lev. 10:3). He didn’t cry out, he didn’t protest, but rather remained silent. Ramban, the 13th century Spanish Torah commentator explains that prior to Moshe’s words of comfort, Aharon had been weeping loudly. Moshe’s words of consolation calmed Aharon and he became silent. Aharon’s weeping was not only because he discovered that two of his sons had died but he was unable to make sense of the senseless. Parents aren’t supposed to bury children.  Aharon’s silence was not the silence of indifference, nor the silence of emotional shock. Aharon’s silence was the silence of acceptance.  He accepted Moshe’s words and God’s actions. Aharon’s silence indicated that he was able to make sense out of something that seemed senseless. When his sons died, there was someone to weep for them and there was someone to give meaning to their lives and to their deaths. Only in the aftermath of ascribing meaning to his sons' lives and his sons' deaths were Aharon capable of silence. Only then could Aharon listen to Moshe speak to his remaining two sons as to the appropriate manner in which he and his sons, given their stature and role within the community, must conduct their lives.  

          For the funeral of the Holocaust survivor, there was only silence because no one was able to tell me about this woman’s life nor death. I couldn’t help but think about the hundreds of thousands, if not millions of Jews whose deaths were greeted with silence because there was no one to talk about their lives, their deeds, their stories. This was not the silence of a pleasant memory after the memories have been shared. Nor the acceptance of death because that person’s life made sense.  Instead, there was only the silence of not accepting the unacceptable nor trying to make sense out of the senseless. 

Peace,

Rav Yitz

Wake Now Discover That You Are The Song That The Morning Brings (Robert Hunter & Jerry Garcia - "Eyes Of The World")

When each of my children was born, and it was my job to rock them to sleep, I would whistle a particular song that I chose for them. For my eldest daughters, because there was a nine-year gap, I whistled the same song for each of them: "Summertime".  For my now 18 year old, it made sense, she was born in the summertime.  For my eldest, I loved Miles Davis’ version of the song so I chose it for her. When our now 16-year-old daughter was born, I chose “Somewhere Over the Rainbow”. When our youngest child and only son was born, I chose Louis Armstrong’s “What a Wonderful World”.  Since our kids are a bit older, and I don’t put them to bed anymore, I am sure that each has favorite songs that they have chosen, that “speak” to them. My kids and my wife know that if I hear my favorite song on the Grateful Dead internet radio station, or on satellite radio, they will either stop what they are doing so I can hear the song and sing along, or they will have to lower their conversation to a whisper. Usually, when the song comes on, they see that I am all smiles and genuinely happy, as a result, they even start to hum or sing along with me. Ironically, the lyrics are not sickeningly sweet but rather speak of growing up and a parent figure letting go so that child can learn to fall down and get back up on his/her own. The tune, however, is incredibly upbeat and happy. Because my children have heard the song hundreds of times they have learned to appreciate the juxtaposition between the simple, upbeat tune and the bittersweet lyrics.  They all know that I have never heard the song in concert and it is one of my “bucket list wishes”. I joke that if I never hear the song live at a concert, then it must be played at my funeral.

This Shabbat we read from Parshat Ha’Azinu.  The Parsha is poetry, a song that God had commanded Moshe to compose in the previous Parsha, VaYeleich. Composing this song was the final deed that God commanded Moshe. The song is the final prophecy that God told Moshe in the previous Parsha, VaYeilech.  As a song, Ha"Azinu does not contain the most pleasant of lyrics, and it is not particularly uplifting or inspiration. The song does not offer such an optimistic future.  Rather, Moshe invokes Heaven and Earth to offer testimony to God’s prophecy and future punishment against his people.

   Throughout Sefer Devarim, Deuteronomy,  Moshe has taught the law and inspired Bnai Yisroel to choose fidelity to God and God’s Torah.  Choosing to follow would result in a reward. Choosing not to follow would result in a punishment. Now, during the final moments of Moshe Rabbeinu's life, the song suggests neither choice nor the results of that choice. Instead, we are told that we will choose badly and that we will be punished.  There is nothing explicit within the song that suggests or even offers a means by which we are able to do Teshuva (repent) and ultimately return to God. While intellectually, Moshe has taught that concept to Bnai Yisroel; here in the song that possibility is not explicit. However, when the song is complete, Moshe speaks his word to Bnai Yisroel. His words offer a sense of hope, a sense of inspiration. He reminds Bnai Yisroel that even when they have grown distant from God, even though the resulting punishment will be brutal; there is still a measure of hope, hope for the next generation.  SImu Levavchem L’Chol Hadvarim Asher Anochi Mei’id Bachem Hayom, Asher T’Tzavoom et Bnaichem Lishmor La’Asot et Kol Divrei HaTorah Ha’Zot -  Apply your hearts to all the words that I Testify against you today, with which you are to instruct your children, to be careful to perform all the words of this Torah.  Ki Lo Davar Reik Hu Mikem Ki Hu Chayeichem Uvadavar HaZeh Ta’Arichu Yamim – for it is not an empty thing for you, for it is your life, and through this matter shall you prolong your days on the Land to which you cross the Jordan to possess it.

In Moshe’s final moments, he reminds us that the key to our survival is to teach Torah to our children. Yes, according to the song, we will grow distant from God, yes we will engage in idolatry. Yes, we will be punishment. However, there will always be hope for the next generation if they are educated in such a manner that when it comes time for them to make a choice; they choose wisely, they choose God’s Torah.  Moshe reminds his people that the Torah is not empty. Moshe’s song juxtaposes the immediate short-term future that he sees; a future of hardship, despair and a distancing from God and a long-term future consisting of a reconciliation with God,  a return to the covenantal obligations and the joy that will come with that return.  Because it’s a song or poetry, the children will hear the song, not once but repeated over and over. In the long run, the B’nai Yisroel will come to appreciate the lyrics and its complexity. I know that my kids, in the long run, have come to appreciate my song and its lyrics, music, and complexity.

Peace,

Rav Yitz

And The Seeds That Were Silent All Burst Into Bloom And Decay (Robert Hunter & Jerry Garcia - "Eyes Of The World")

Well it happened again.  Over the past 7-10 days there have been two terrorist attacks. One occurred in Brussels, approximately 35 people were killed and nearly 300 were wounded. This past Sunday, Easter Sunday, there was a terrorist attack in Pakistan where Christians were targeted, 72 were killed and approximately 340 were injured.  Each of the terrorist was a Muslim fundamentalists linked to ISIS. As I watched the news, and I watched my children watch news, I thought about the victims. Normally, I think about the terrorists, the environment in which they operated their religious fanaticism. This time, however, my thoughts gravitated toward the victims. No, I did not know any of them. Rather, the most obvious thought came to light. Each of these victims was someone’s child. Children were killed, millenials were killed, baby- boomers were killed. No matter their age, each of those killed had parent.  I watched my children and I tried to imagine how the authorities told the parents that their child was killed in a terrorist attack, and I tried to imagine the parent’s response to such horrific news.

This Shabbat is known as Shabbat Parah. The weekly Torah reading is Parsha Shemini. However, at the very end of the Torah reading, an excerpt from the first 21 verses from Parsha Chukat that discusses the laws of the Red Heifer, are read. Parsha Shemini consists of three chapters. The first of the three chapters discusses the Aaron’s final preparations and offerings that makes prior to his taking over the responsibilities of the Priestly service, offerings and opening of the Mishkan. He makes a Chatat, a Sin Offering, he makes an offering on behalf of the people, he blesses them, and everyone sees the offering is accepted by God. The second of the three chapters tells the narrative of Aaron’s two eldest sons deciding to make their own illicit offerings after the ceremony concludes. Their offerings are not only spurned but Aaron’s two sons are consumed by the fire of the offering. Moshe has to tell Aaron, his brother, the tragic news,  Aaron listens, Aaron mourns in his own way, and then Moshe warns Aaron and his two youngest sons to be sober when making the offerings and to be in an appropriate state of mind. The third of the three chapters discusses the laws of Kashrut and specifically those animals that are permissible to eat and those that are prohibited to eat.  The Parsha concludes with Hashem reminding the people that Kashrut is an expression of holiness and just like God is holy; B’nai Yisroel’s behavior must express its holiness and the holiness of its relationship with Hashem.

Aaron’s two eldest sons, Nadav and Avihu, “each took his fire pan, they put fire in them and placed incense upon it and they brought it before Hashem an alien fire that He had not commanded them. A fire came forth from before Hashem and consumed them, and they died before Hashem.  (Lev. 10:1-2). Moshe must now bring the news of the sons’ death to Aaron. Aaron’s response is amazingly dignified, profound and linguistically simple: VaYidom Aharon – And Aaron was silent.  Ramban, the great 12^th century commentator explains that until Moshe approached Aaron and offered an incredibly humane explanation as to what transpired, Aaron had been weeping. Moshe told Aaron Bikrovai Ekadeish – I will be sanctified by those who are nearest me.  Upon hearing Moshe’s explanation and consolation Aaron’s weeping ceased and he “silence” was an expression of his accepting Moshe’s consolation. Other commentators suggest that Aaron’ had been weeping because he mistakenly thought that his son’s were killed as a result of Aaron’s involvement with the Eigel Zahav – The Golden Calf. Moshe’s explanation convinced Aaron that he had been completely absolved of his involvement with the Golden Calf. As the Kohen Gadol who understood the nature of Korbonot, of offerings; intellectually, Aaron understood that nothing spiritually impure could ever be in close proximity to Hashem. The fact that Moshe suggested that his sons were in such close proximity to Hashem gave Aaron great comfort. Aaron’s silence should not be construed as a lack of sadness or loss. Rather Aaron’s silence demonstrated a profound belief in God despite suffering a tragic loss, and the strength of acceptance.

I can’t imagine hearing such tragic news and greeting it with silence. I can’t imagine that I would be capable to demonstrate my unwavering belief in God with silence; yet our tradition teaches us that when we hear tragic news we say Baruch Dayan Emet –Blessed is the God of Truth. The response doesn’t mean that we are neither weeping nor wailing on the inside. The response doesn’t mean that we are insensitive to the loss of those most treasured by us. Rather, we understand that sometimes the death of a loved one, certainly, God Forbid, the death of a child, seems so random and so out of order and utterly unfathomable; there are no words. Instead there is only the truth of silence. For all those parents who received the tragic news that their child was killed in Brussel and in Pakistan, there only response is the silence in the re-affirmation of life.

Peace,

Rav Yitz

Wake Up To Find Out That You Are The Eyes Of The World (Robert Hunter & Jerry Garcia - "Eyes of The World")

There is nothing like teenage girls.  I dreaded the five years between 8^th grade through 12^th grade of our oldest daughter and I am already dreading these tumultuous five years of our soon to be 13 year old daughter.  The best thing about this five year period of emotional ups and downs with our daughter is the knowledge and experience that it will eventually end. One day it will be over. Maybe it will end when she heads off to college so that we don’t have to deal with it. Maybe it will end when she spends a period of time away and gets the antidote to these difficult five year – “perspective”.  Maybe it will end when she finally grows weary of the seemingly unending drama of who is a friend with whom, what is in style, what my friends think, as the most important criteria for making decisions.  For now, we merely take a deep breath. We try to avoid the emotional roller coaster of a teenage girl’s life, sit in awe as she spends hours getting her hair just right, and listen as she tries to struggle with the opinions of her friends and the opinions of her family. Unfortunately, at this point, there is no question she is much more concerned with how her friends perceive her as opposed to how her family perceives her.  My wife and I smile hopefully, aware that someday, God Willing, she will be less concerned about the perception of others and more concerned with her own self-perception and her parents’ perception.

This Shabbat we read from Parsha Shelach Lecha. The Torah portion begins with the narrative of Moshe gathering up twelve spies, one corresponding to each of the twelve tribes, and giving them the mission. The spies are told to investigate the quality of the land – fertile or barren, its inhabitants - warlike or peaceful, the nature of cities –fortified or open? The spies go and investigate and return. Ten spies offer a negative report and two, Caleb and Joshua, offer a positive report. Bnai Yisroel listen to the ten spies with the negative report and fell utterly overwhelmed at the prospect of entering into the land that Hashem promised them.  Hysterical, the people beg to return to Egypt. Hashem wants to wipe them all out immediately but Moshe defends the people just like he did after the Golden Calf. So rather than wiping out an entire people Hashem punishes Bnai Yisroel by prohibiting this generation from entering into the land. Eventually, when the slave generation has died out, the generations born in freedom will enter Eretz Canaan.  The people hear the punishment and decide they are ready to enter the land. Moshe explains that it is too late since entry into Canaan is ultimately premised upon faith.  Then Moshe begin teaching Bnai Yisroel laws specific and premised upon settlement in the Canaan.  First Moshe teaches the Libation Offering as well as Challah. Next, Moshe teaches the laws of public atonement of unintentional idolatry, individual unintentional idolatry, intentional idolatry, a reminder about violating Shabbat and finally the laws of Tzitzit.

The ten spies whom Bnai Yisroel chose to believe did not really bring such a negative report. They explained that the land was fruitful and fertile, there were trees and that it was really quite beautiful.  The problem with the report was that it revealed more about the spies and Bnai Yisroel than the land itself. When seeing some of the inhabitants and the physical size of some of those inhabitants.  The Ten spies said Vanhi V’Eineinu Ka’CHaGaVim V’Chain Hayinu B’Eineihem – we were like grasshoppers in our eyes and so we were in their eyes. (Num. 13:33) How do the ten spies know how the Nefilim (the Giants) perceive them? Did they ask the Nefilim? The answer to both questions is “No”. No they don’t know how the Nefilim perceive the Ten Spies and “No”, the Ten Spies did not ask the Nefilim. The spies feel small because from their own perspective and self image, they are small. When they look in a mirror, they see slaves. They don’t see people who stood at Sinai and received the Torah. They don’t see a people who carry a Mishkan with Hashem protecting them and scattering their enemies. They don’t see a people worthy of Hashem’s daily miracles of Manna, and water.  Instead they carry with them the burden of two centuries of slavery and being slightly less than human rather than being slightly less than angels.  Rabbi Menachem Mendel of Kotzk (The Kotzker Rebbe) explained that this was the root of the spies as well as Bnai Yisroel’s sin. They had no right to consider how others viewed them, nor should they have been at all concerned.  They should have all been spiritually strong enough to realize and accept that they were “priests to the nations” and “chosen by God”. The fact that such spiritual awareness was still lacking even after all the miracles and promises that God made; meant that problem lay with Bnai Yisroel. These former slaves were not ready for the responsibility of land and people hood.

Yes, the most frequently asked question by our soon to be teenage daughter is, “does this look ok?” “What will they think?” Yes we try to explain that more important than what THEY think is what SHE thinks. The most rewarding moments these days occur after the emotional outbursts, after the tears of frustration, after the fights, when she calmly sits down with us and shares with us her realization how much happier she is  when she worries less about what other think and say. Maybe the next five years won’t be as difficult as we anticipate.

Peace,

Rav Yitz