If Mercy's In Business, I Wish It For Your (Robert Hunter & Mickey Hart- "Fire On The Mountain")

           With my wife visiting our son in Israel during the Christmas and New Year’s vacation, I decided to pay a visit to my parents. During dinner with my parents, they both became incredibly serious. It was the kind of serious where I was awaiting for one of them to tell me some dreadful news. Apparently, they had the same talk with my younger sister last week.  Thankfully, the news wasn’t dreadful but the subject matter was rather troubling. My parents have aged a lot and I think the fact that they both had Covid this past summer has given them a powerful concern about their own mortality. So, during dinner, my parents expressed their concerns about aging, their own health, and their anticipated deterioration of health. Both talked about their desire to remain in their home for as long as they were physically and mentally capable. Both shared their concerns regarding what “measures” to take during the coming years if, in fact, health deteriorates rapidly. They both understood that in the coming years, my sister and I would be much more involved in making decisions for them or with them, decisions that will affect them. They were anxious, nervous, and needed peace of mind as they head into their very golden years together. So I listened, I smiled and I told them that my sister and I will do everything we can to respect their wishes. 

             This morning we read from Parsha Vayechi. This is the final Parsha in the book of Breishit. T Parsha begins with Yaakov calling Yosef and making him swear an oath that he will not be buried in Egypt. He also blesses his grandsons Ephraim and Menashe. He gathers his sons together and offers each son a blessing or a prophecy. Yaakov dies and his sons take him out of Egypt and fulfill their vow. They bury their father in Heron alongside Avraham and Yitzchak and Sarah Rebecca and Leah. Afterward, the brothers fear that Yosef will finally take vengeance for their mistreatment of him. Yosef doesn’t, and the brothers and their families continue to grow and prosper in Goshen. As Yosef prepares for his death, he makes his brother's vow to take his bones out of Egypt and bury his bones in Eretz Canaan. 

Yaakov’s final wish is to be buried in Canaan, in the Caves of the Machpela with his ancestors, Avraham/Sarah, Yitzchak/Rivka, and his wife Leah. Yaakov shares this wish with Yosef. Given his position within Egypt, Yosef would be the most likely of the sons who could arrange to fulfill Yaakov’s wish. After sharing his final wish with his beloved son Yosef; Yaakov asks Yosef to swear to him that he will carry out this final wish. To demonstrate one’s “swearing a vow,” Yaakov tells Yosef: Im Nah Matzati Chein M’Einecha If now I have found grace in your eyes Sim Nah Yadcha Tachat Yereichi put, I pray of you, your hand beneath my thigh v’Asita Imadi Chesed v’Emet –, and deal kindly and truthfully with me. However, Yosef does not do as his father asks; Yosef does not put his hand beneath his father’s thigh as an indication of swearing an oath. Rather, Vayomer [Yosef] said, Anochi Eseh Chidvarecha – I personally will do as you said. Yaakov, sensing his son’s hesitation, asks Yosef to swear that he will fulfill the request. Finally, Yosef acquiesces and swears an oath to fulfill his father’s request.

          Why does Yosef hesitate? The text clearly conveys that Yosef did not make a “vow” to Yaakov when first asked. Yosef did not immediately put his hand beneath his father’s thigh as an indication of making a vow.  Yosef did not immediately say “I swear to bury you with your ancestors”.  Why doesn’t Yaakov’s favorite son, Joseph,  swear this last dying favor to his father? What kind of son doesn’t swear an oath if asked by his dying father to do so if it means peace of mind and a soul at peace for his father?  Yosef’s first answer indicates that he will look after the request personally. Midrash explains the difference between Avraham’s servant’s behavior and Yosef’s behavior: HaEved Asa K’Avadoto Uven Chorin Asah K’Chiruto – Rabbi Yitzchak said: The servant acted like a servant and the free man acted as a free man, The servant acted like a servant, as it says ‘And the servant put his hand beneath his [Avraham’s] thigh; While the freeman acted as a free person: ‘And he said, I will do as you said’’ As a free individual, Yosef is only bound by his conscience. He is free to question. The servant, on the other hand, has no such ability. He is bound to fulfill his obligations whether forced or unforced. The Malbim, the 17th-century commentator explains that Yosef was acting as a son should. Yosef was trying to act out of filial responsibility, based upon his own free will rather than a servant who is bound by oaths. 

          There are moments when one’s own volition is not enough to fulfill a final wish. Yaakov makes Yosef swear the oath because he wants Yosef to acknowledge an authority greater than his own. He also wants Yosef to acknowledge an authority greater than Pharaoh. Yaakov wanted Yosef to be completely powerless and act solely on behalf of his father. Under normal circumstances, according to ChaZaL – our Talmudic sages of Blessed Memory, the acceptance of the Torah and its commandments are an acknowledgment and acceptance of an external authority greater than ourselves. Intrinsic to that acceptance is a humbling awareness that we are not all that powerful or in control of every aspect of life.  Of course, my sister and I will do everything we can to respect our parents' wishes as they enter these upcoming years.  As my parents spoke to me, and I listened, I only had one thought. After all the sacrifices my parents have made in helping me to become the best possible version of me, how could I not honor their request and do everything I can to make their golden years together as golden and as dignified as possible?  

Peace,
Rav Yitz

Mama, Mama, Many Worlds I've Come Since I First Left Home (Robert Hunter & Jerry Garcia - "Brokedown Palace")

           The United States observance and celebration of it Thanksgiving signal the beginning of the holiday season. If Christmas decorations have not yet appeared in storefronts, they do so now. Individual homes and town centers begin cleaning up and decorating acknowledging Christmas and Chanukkah. We all begin shopping for gifts for family and friends. Of course, all the Christmas specials are re-broadcast on television. Our family’s favorite Holiday season movie is Frank Capra’s 1946 film It’s A Wonderful Life.  I have watched the movie since I was a kid. With each passing year, with each phase of my life, I have seen Jimmy Stewart’s character, George Bailey, in a different light. As he went through different phases of growing up, getting married, and raising a family, I have done the same. As he struggled with his existential angst, so have I. This year, for the first time in 32 years, I have no children in my house. Instead, they are living their lives, on their own, following their path. As a result, I experienced the movie just a bit differently than before.   During one particular scene Jimmy Stewart’s character George Bailey sits at the dining room table with his mother, his father, and his younger brother, they discuss George’s future plans. He expresses his need to leave and go out on his own: “I just feel like if I don't get away, I'd bust.” I smiled to myself because, in my mind, it seemed like yesterday that I felt that way in terms of my parents. Now I am at a point in my life where my kids have all adopted a similar mantra. For the first time, I identified with George Bailey’s father, the parent offering guidance to the child who prepares to go off on his own. 

          This Shabbat we read from Parsha VaYeitze. The focus of the narrative is on Yaakov. For the first time, Yaakov will find out what it means to be alone in the world.  He has left his mother, Rivkah, and his father Yitzchak, for the first time. In fleeing his brother Esav, Yaakov now embarks on a new phase of his life. For the first time, but certainly not the last time, he will have to face being alone. He will learn to be an independent individual. Yes, Yaakov will meet his future wives, his cousins Leah and Rachel. He will work for his father-in-law, Lavan, and he will have children. The narrative will focus on Yaakov’s life from young adulthood to becoming a responsible father, earning a living, and all the trials, tribulations, and tensions of career and family. As Yaakov makes his way in life, hopefully, he will learn more about himself. With each event, with each adventure, Yaakov has an opportunity to become better connected, better connected to himself, and better connected to a covenant that his father bequeathed to him. Yet throughout the narrative he will learn to be alone, he will learn to become independent, and he will learn, through trial and error, to whom he should spiritually cling: Esav, his parents, Lavan, his wives, and God.

           At the conclusion of the previous Parsha, Parsha Toldot, we read that Yitzchak and Rivkah instructed Yaakov to go to Padan- Aram, to the house of Bethuel (Rivkah’s father’s home) and take a wife from there. We would expect Parsha VaYeitze to begin with Yaakov heading to Padan- Aram. Instead, VaYeitze begins: VaYeitze Yaakov M’Beer Sheva VaYeilech Charana – Yaakov departed from Beer Sheva and went toward Charan. Why doesn’t VaYeitze, say that Yaakov departed and went to Padan Aram? Why do we need to be told that he went to Charan? What’s in Charan? Yaakov has never been away from home. Although he is heading toward his mother’s family; even Rivkah knew enough to leave her family of origin. Now Yaakov, in order to preserve his life, must leave his family of origin. In Toldot, Yaakov was described as Ish Tam  Yoshev Ohalim – a simple man of faith who dwells in tents (Gen. 19;27) The Talmudic Sages explain that Yaakov’s dwelling in the tents meant that he spent time in his parent’s tents studying and learning. However, no learning would prepare him for what he would contend with when dealing with Rivka’s family and particularly her brother Lavan.  Rabbi Kamenetsky, (1891-1986), explained that prior to arriving in Paddan Aram, Yaakov stopped in Charan to learn from Shem and Eber. Shem was Noah’s son and Eber from the generation of the Tower of Bavel. Both were considered righteous and wise men who lived in unsavory environments and managed to retain their sense of righteousness. Yaakov sought their practical wisdom prior to his encounter with Lavan and dealing with becoming independent in an unsavory environment.  He will also need the wisdom of Shem and Eber to help him eventually return home. As a result of Yaakov’s diversion, Yaakov understands that he must maintain a relationship with God, and he understands that he will need to find his way home when the time is right.

          In It’s A Wonderful Life, George Bailey’s desire to leave home was symbolized by his request and his “wish to never been born”. Indeed, when George cries out “I want to live again” he is asking to return home. For Yaakov, he needed to leave his physical home, but clearly, he took with him the values and the learning that he acquired from his family. He took God with him as well as the sense of the land. He took with him a desire to return home. Yaakov and George Bailey derive an aspect of their independence from not only leaving home but leaving home with a code as well has to have the courage and humility to return home. Indeed, our children have all left home, however, our children also know that whenever the need arises, the doors of the home are always open, and their parents' arms are also open to hug them when they walk in the door

Peace
Rav Yitz.

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

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

Lately It Occurs To Me What A Long Strange Trip It's Been (Robert Hunter, Jerry Garcia, Phil Lesh & Bob Weir- "Truckin' ")

           I recently visited my parents. I wanted to check on them as they continue to recover from Covid. While we were eating dinner, we began to speak about future life cycle events and opportunities for our family to spend time together. In the upcoming year, there will be University Graduation and a grandson learning in Israel and returning next summer. Since my parents are both 80, they also hope that they can see their grandchildren get engaged and married. As we spoke of these imminent and hopeful future lifecycle moments, a discussion that was clearly focused on the future; something odd began to happen. With each grandchild and their future lifecycle events, my parents began talking about past events. With an eye toward the future, both of my parents continued to discuss the path that each grandchild had taken.

          This morning we read from Parsha Matot/Masei. These are the final two parshiot of Sefer BaMidbar (Book of Numbers).  Like the end of most books, Matot/Masei ties up numerous loose ends. It ties up the loose ends of the narrative such as how to deal with the Midianites following the episode with Pinchas, the daughters of Tzelophchad, and issues of inheritance, as well as the borders of Eretz Canaan, and the Cities of Refuge. All these final issues must be dealt with since, from a narrative perspective, B’nai Yisroel is spiritually and physically ready to cross the Jordan River and enter Eretz Canaan. B’nai Yisroel is about to realize the Brit, the covenant that God made with the Avot: Avraham, Yitzchak, and Yaakov.

     Whenever an individual, a group, a community, or a people stand on the precipice of a realized goal; looking back upon the journey only makes sense.  Whenever an individual, a group, a community, or a people experience anxiety about the ability to handle future unknowns; looking back at past lessons also seems to make a lot of sense. We look back upon the journey for a variety of reasons. First, we look back upon the journey in sheer wonderment; we cannot believe we have traveled so far and finally achieved. Second, we look back upon the journey in order to provide context and meaning for all those who joined in the journey towards the middle or the end. Third, we look back upon the journey as a series of opportunities that were necessary in order to realize the stated goal. Fourth, we look back knowing that we overcame past obstacles and fears, then we should be able to overcome future anxieties, obstacles, and fears.  Eilah Masei V’nai Yisroel Asher Yatzu M’Eretz Mitztrayim L'tzivotam  B’Yad Moshe v’Aharon – These are the journeys of the Children of Israel, who went forth from the Land of Egypt according to the legions under the hand of Moshe and Aharon … V’Eilah Maseihem L’Motzaheihem – And these are their journeys according to their departures. (Num. 33:1-2) God commanded Moshe to keep a record of their travels according to their Maseihem - destination. This is means of recording based upon positive expectations when there were no travails, issues, or problems. Moshe also kept a record of their travels based upon Motzaheihem -  their departure, when there were travails, issues, and great difficulties, when people murmured against God, against Moshe, etc. Now that Bnai Yisroel stands on the brink of entering Eretz Canaan, all the experiences, both positive and negative gave Bnai Yisroel an opportunity to learn Faith.  The journey and all that was experienced during that 40-year journey were necessary in order to arrive at this point in time.

          One of the final commandments that God gives to Moshe is to record where B'nai Israel had been.  Before embarking on the future, B'nai Israel needed to know from whence they came. As my parents and I finished dinner, I thought that the seamless shift between the future paths of their grandchildren's lives and the paths that they traveled took an interesting twist. They both understood and appreciated that the path that their grandchildren had taken, and the anticipated future lifecycle moments have a lot to do with the path the parents have taken and in turn the path that the grandparents have taken. At that moment, generations, choices, and paths taken became interconnected; past and future merged. The lesson became clear. One needs to know where one comes from in order to make the wisest decisions on the path forward towards the future. 

Peace,

Rav Yitz 

Let's See With Our Heart These Things Our Eyes Have Seen (Robert Hunter & Jerry Garcia - "Blues For Allah")

           Our youngest daughter will turn 19 this Shabbat. On this particular year, her secular birthday and her Hebrew birthday fall on the same day. However, this year, because she is in Israel,  we won’t be able to celebrate her birthday with her.  However, I am willing to bet that we will miss celebrating her birthday with her more than she will miss celebrating her birthday with her parents. Of our four children, she is the most blonde, the most artistic, and appreciates the creative process that art embodies. Her Jerusalem apartment is adorned with her paintings. When we packed her year in Israel, she insisted on bringing paint, brushes and small canvases. She finds the creative process of painting cathartic and soothing.  She is the daughter who could spend hours looking at fashion and home design magazines, appreciating the colors, lines, and shapes. Certainly, she has an affinity for the physical realm. Ironically, she is not at all superficial nor is she mesmerized and awed by physical beauty and “perfection”. On the contrary, her eye is drawn to that which is interesting:  the juxtaposition of color, shade, light, lines, and shapes.  When her two older sisters and younger brother comment that my white beard makes me look much older; our 19-year-old notices my white beard in the context of the wrinkles around my eyes when smiling or squinting. She is the daughter that sees the wrinkles and the “youthfulness” in my eyes and comments on that juxtaposition. Because of her artistic eye, she is able to find beauty everywhere. Interestingly enough, my grandmother for whom our daughter is named also had a similar “artistic” eye.

          This Shabbat we read from Parshat Emor. The four chapters that comprise Parsha Emor focus on the various aspects of Perfection. First, the Torah focuses upon the importance of the spiritual perfection and purity of the Kohen. He must remain in a perpetual state of purity. He is restricted in terms of whom he can marry. He is restricted for whom he can mourn. He cannot go to a cemetery. He cannot make sacrificial offerings if he has physical abnormalities. The second of the four chapters reminds B’nai Yisroel that when approaching God with an offering, the individual must be spiritually pure and perfect and so must the offering. These offerings must come directly from the individual making them and not from “the hand of a stranger” (Lev.22:25). The third chapter of the Parsha deals with the perfection and the purity of time. Time is perfect; each season follows another in order, the holidays such as Shabbat, Pesach, Shavuot, Sukkot, Rosh Hashanah, and Yom Kippur are designated to come in a particular order. That order is both pure and perfect since time and the designation of “Sacred” time comes from God. The fourth chapter speaks about maintaining purity and the perfection of physical space in this case the Mishkan, and all that is in the Mishkan. The Torah even deals with the perfection and purity of human relationships and the punishments meted out when that perfection, purity, and holiness are violated. In a sense, this last chapter reminds us of God’s charge to B’nai Yisroel.

          The Torah places an emphasis upon the physical appearance of the Kohen as it relates to his spiritual purity and eligibility of serving as the Kohen Gadol.  The last eight verses (21:16-24) explain all the physical abnormalities that exclude the Kohen from assuming the position of Kohen Gadol. Blemishes, blindness, being lame, having any broken bones, bad skin, abnormally long eyebrows, a blemish in his eyed, are but a few of the physical attributes that make a Kohen ineligible for the position of Kohen Gadol.   How can the Torah, with its primary focus upon Mitzvot (commandments) and the importance of deeds and the Kavanah, the intentionality behind those deeds, now focus upon something as superficial as appearance? Sefer HaChinuch, a 13th-century halachic texts that lists and comments on each of the 613 commandments in the order in which they appear in the Torah,  comments: “At the root of the precept lies the reason that most actions of people are acceptable, appealing to the heart of those who see them, in accordance with the eminence of those who do them. For when a man is distinguished in his appearance and good in his actions, he will find grace and good understanding (Prov. 3:4). With all that he does in the eyes of all who observe him. Should he be, however the opposite of this- inferior in his form, or peculiar in his limbs then even if he is correct in his ways, his activities will not be so attractive to the heart…” (Emor 275). As upsetting and politically incorrect as that sounds, the comment and the Torah text infer a keen understanding of human nature. While watching the physically flawed Kohen conducting the ritual slaughtering in a perfectly correct manner; our attention would be upon a perceived flaw in appearance or perceived imperfection. As a result, our Kavanah - our intention concerning our sacrificial offering would be lacking and the sacrificial process would fail.

          We are now thousands of years removed from a Beit HaMikdash (Holy Temple), the institutions of sacrificial offerings, and a Priestly class. The Beit HaMikdash has been replaced by Synagogues, shteibles, or wherever a community gathers to pray. Sacrificial offerings have been replaced by the words and music of prayer. The community no longer relies upon the Kohanim to serve as a conduit between it and God. Rather, the person leading the community in prayer and the community itself connects to God. Over thousands of years, there has been a spiritual maturing of God’s children. While the physical characteristic of a person may have once appeared like a flaw or an imperfection to spiritually immature eyes, now those perceived flaws and perceived imperfections are sources for interest and wonderment as we recognize that we are created in God’s image. As a result of mankind’s spiritual maturation, what had once been a physical “imperfection” is now viewed as part of the panoramic display of God’s presence. So as my wife and I look at pictures of our daughter on her birthday, I think about how our daughter sees the world, sees colors, light,  lines, and shapes. May she continue maturing into a confident, thoughtful, intelligent free spirit who can still see the youthfulness in my eyes despite my white beard and wrinkles around my eyes.  May she continue to find beauty in the world.

Peace,
Rav Yitz

All The Years Combine; They Melt Into A Dream (Robert Hunter & Jerry Garcia - "Stella Blue")

We spent the American Thanksgiving with our family in Rochester. Our children spent time with their grandparents and their 97 year old grandfather.  Because of his severe dementia, when we saw him, he asked us to introduce ourselves when we greeted him.  I sat next to him during thanksgiving dinner. I cut his turkey for him. I fed him sweet potatoes, I fed him stuffing. Besides the fact that suffers from dementia, at 97, and confined to a wheelchair, he looks small, he looks frail, and he looks old. He seems almost unrecognizable compared to the recent images of my grandfather, even as recent as 4 years ago. For all of my life, my grandfather has always had an incredibly young spirit.  Yes, he was part of the “Greatest Generation”: born during WW I, experience the Great Depression, and WWII. However as a salesman of athletic wear to numerous university athletic departments; he spent an inordinate amount of time on university campuses. He frequently sat with college students, spoke with them, asked them school and would frequently check their collar labels in order to make sure that it was his brand.  When I traveled with him, I would find this act utterly embarrassing; I intuitively understood that this environment, engaging university students in conversation, checking their sweatshirts to make sure that they wore his brand, kept my grandfather spiritually young. Ironically, it was about 4 years ago when he stopped checking the labels of my sweatshirt labels and the sweatshirt labels of his great grandchildren.

In this week’s Parsha, Vayigash, Yosef reveals himself to his brothers. He urges his brother Yehudah to bring his father down to Egypt in order to reunite father and son as well as save him from the famine. Yosef arranges for his brothers and all their households to live in Goshen, thereby preserving their livelihood as shepherds. Yosef then brings his 130 year-old father to meet Pharaoh. After a very revealing exchange, Yaakov blesses Pharaoh. The Parsha concludes with all Yaakov’s sons, and their households and cattle settling down again. However instead of Canaan they settle down in Goshen, and they thrive.

While last week’s Parsha embodied the theme of appearances, this week’s Parsha is all about the effect of emotions upon appearances. Specifically, we read that Yosef could no longer contain his anguish and his excitement at the possibility of seeing his father. Later towards the end of the Parsha, Pharaoh looks upon this 130 year old man and asks, “How old are you”? We see what life has done to Yaakov and his response. “Uma’at Shanah V’Raim hayu y’mei Shnei Chayai, V’lo Hisigu et Y’mei Shnei Chayai Avotai Bimei M’gureihem” Few and bad have been the day of the years of my life, and they have not reached the years of the life of my forefathers in the days of their wanderings.  Yaakov has had his share of tzuris. He spent over twenty years working for his evil uncle Lavan, and fearing his brother Esav. His daughter was raped. Then for the last twenty- two years he has been living with the anguish that his beloved son Yosef had been dead. Yaakov has been through life, and these tragedies aged him. Yaakov tells Pharaoh that he is not as old as his father or grandfather. He just looks old. So much so, that when Pharaoh looked upon Yaakov, he was amazed to see such an ancient looking man.

Our experiences affect us. We know that tragedies age us, and longevity takes a toll upon our bodies, our minds and sometimes our spirit. While Yaakov’s answer indicates that he had been through a lot, his answer is that of a Tzaddik. Not only does Yaakov answer, indicating that his mind is still sound, but his answer gives us insight into his soul. No matter how sad the situation, or tragic the experience, Yaakov possessed within him the element of a fighter. His name is Yisroel, and he is called by this name several times during the Parsha. He could accept a situation and then handle whatever came his way. His descendant, my grandfather, is no different. His experience aged him, but it did not kill him. Instead other experiences kept him young both mentally and spiritually. He possessed within him the spirit of Yisroel. He, too, wrestled and survived.  The sparks of my grandfather’s soul are less evident and they come less frequently. However, every once in a while, we see a spark and we are thankful for it. Every once in a while we see a glimmer of the man my grandfather used to be. When we see that glimmer, we smile and indeed, we are thankful as we were on Thanksgiving. The good days of his life are much less frequent now. They are not days, but rather a seconds. However even in those couple of seconds, I can see my grandfather’s spirit still fighting to emerge from the darkness of his dementia.

Peace,

Rav Yitz

And It Looks Like The Old Man's Getting On (Robert Hunter & Jerry Garcia "Brown Eyed Women")

A few weeks ago, I had a chance to visit with my grandfather. He is 96 years old. Our family recently moved him from the assisted living part of the Jewish Home to the actual Jewish home. He has a room, he has some pictures of his family, and he has the 24 hour care that he now requires. Until he turned 96, he certainly did not act his age, now as my wife lovingly reminds me, “You have a 96 year old grandfather.” Even though for last ten or so years, it was always in the back of my mind that something may happen to my grandfather:  severe dementia, Alzheimer’s, some debilitating disease and death.  However, having such thoughts in the back of one’s mind is substantially different than the cold stark reality of my grandfather’s dementia and residing in the Jewish Home in Rochester. Seeing him now, is very different than visiting with him even a couple of years ago.  Now, when I visit or call, I tell him my name and who I am. Our conversations are generally the same. I know that when I hang up with him or when my visit concludes, he will put me and memory of me away deep in the recesses of his mind. Yet, even now, I recall conversations with my grandfather, not all that many years ago. One conversation strikes me as particularly poignant given this week’s parsha and the fact that Rosh Hashanah begins less than a week from now. 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 he was reminding me to take care of them. Then he said that he has truly been blessed, children, grandchildren and great grandchildren. He continued by saying even though his wife passed away several years before, he has no regrets in his life. He finished by saying that he could die tomorrow completely at peace and satisfied with his life, and the blessings that he received.  That was last meaningful conversation that he and I have had. It probably occurred a year ago.

            This week’s Parsha is the Parsha Nitzavim. 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 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. 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. Not having the opportunity to say goodbye, not having a chance to speak ones final words to people who matter most is far more tragic.

            Now, I realize the significance of the conversation that transpired between me and my grandfather a year ago. Somewhere deep down, he understood what was happening to him and what would eventually result. So before his condition worsened, before his memory was diminished and he became far less than what he ever was even a short time ago; he needed to say goodbye to me, and so he did. It’s just that I have to accept and learn that I said goodbye to my grandfather during that conversation as well.  With each phone call and visit over the past year and especially now that he is in the Jewish Home; that last conversation in my car is what I hear. I hear the courage in his voice, the acceptance of his reality, the understanding that his life has truly been blessed, and the happiness of no regrets.  On this Shabbat, the Shabbat before Rosh HaShanah, before Yom HaDin (Judgement Day), let us all have the courage to impart our wisdom to our loved ones every day, and be able to understand and accept our blessings.

Peace & Shanah Tova,

Rav Yitz