Wednesday, February 27, 2019

The Shabbos Sermon... and Shabbos Itself

Parshat Vayakhel

by Rabbi Avi Billet

The Yalkut Shimoni’s opening comment in his Midrashic exposition on Parshas Vayakhel is translated as follows:
Vayakhel Moshe - And Moshe gathered – Our Rabbis, the master Aggadists said that from the beginning of the Torah until the end there is no other Parsha that begins with a gathering. The Holy One Blessed Be He said, “Make for yourselves great gatherings/ communities and make drashas, sermonize before them in public regarding the laws of Shabbos, so that future generations will learn from you, to gather “Kehilos” (either gatherings or communities) every shabbos. And they should enter the study halls to teach and to show the Israelites the words of the Torah, the forbidden and the permitted, so that My Great Name will be spread amongst my children. 
From this, the rabbis claimed that Moshe established for Israel that they should study the laws of Pesach on Pesach time, the laws of Atzeres – meaning Shavuos – at Atzeres time, and the laws of Chag – meaning Sukkos – at Chag time. 
Moshe said to the Israelites, “If you do this in this manner, Hakadosh Baruch Hu (the Holy One Who is Blessed) will count it as if you have “crowned Me (meaning God) King in My World” as it says in Isaiah 43:12 – “You are My witnesses, the word of God, and I am God.” 
I think there are two important lessons we can take from this Midrashic account.

The first lesson is that clearly the concept of a drasha, certainly around Yom Tov time, but even week to week on every Shabbos, is a good thing. On Shabbos we create that communal gathering experience – the gathering of a community together, to pray together, to hear the Torah together, to learn together, and hopefully, to be inspired together. We should not feel rushed, that the rabbi speaks too long (unless he is unprepared and does not make a point worthy of everyone’s time). We need to remind ourselves why we come to synagogue! Some people do not have the opportunity to learn a little Torah during the week. But if we are a kehillah, a community, then a little patience will go a long way. The Torah thoughts shared during the sermon in every synagogue are meant to be a starting point of a larger conversation about Torah and our lives as Jews, under God. Our patience and positive support of sermons is a way which we strengthen the community, being facilitators of others’ learning when the response to a sermon is insightful, thoughtful and focused on its content, and its message. And if that conversation, about the topic at hand (and not about the speaker), extends to the Shabbos table, we are all blessed for it.

The second lesson is to help us focus on why we gather in the first place. Of course we come to the synagogue to pray, and to learn a little. Some people attend a class before or after the services as well, while some minimally get their fill from a sermon. But all of us attend for the focus of which the Yalkut Shimoni spoke, “so that My Great Name will be spread amongst my children,” and so that “God will view it as if we have crowned Him (meaning God) King in My World” as it says in Isaiah 43:12 – “You are My witnesses, the word of God, and I am God.”

Many shuls have a statement of some kind on or above the Aron Kodesh. In the interest of space I won’t share the many I’ve seen, but here is a summary of presumed objective of the verses or statements. Some are meant to put the fear of God in those who are present. Some are meant to put a focus on God’s presence in our midst. Some are meant to put the joy of God in our lives into people’s conscience. The joy of Torah might be a focus as well.

More than anything, I think our goal in synagogue attendance is to bring God in the shul-space and into our lives. Rabbi Shimon Pincus said that sometimes we can accuse ourselves of being guilty of having “cultivated a Judaism from which we have left Hashem out of the equation.”

Sometimes we are so busy serving God that we forget about God. Too often, even while we are praying we don’t pay attention to Whom we are praying! We focus too much on “did you say that part yet?” as opposed to “Did you communicate with your Creator?”

Even in our Shabbos observance we may run the risk of hitting all the check marks of Shabbos –– the cholent and kugel, the extra sleep, the family time, and even beautiful davenings – that we forget that all of these are only means to a much higher and important end. That ‘end’ is G-d Himself, Who is truly the beginning and the end!

Shabbos is such an integral part of our Jewish experience because it is through Shabbos that we testify to God’s existence, and that we note how he created the world in six days and stopped His creative work on the Seventh, choosing to sanctify the seventh day and make it holy.

Many of the sermons of the great Chassidic masters focus on the special nature of Shabbos. I sometimes wonder why the Rebbes felt the need to always talk about Shabbos. Really? Whether we identify with Chassidism or not, it is hard to imagine that sincere Chassidim would not observe the Shabbos. How could such a thing happen? I think the Rebbes were trying to assure that with all the trappings of Chassidus – making sure you dress right, that you go to the rebbe’s tish, etc. that you not forget what Shabbos is really all about. It is not about whether you got the “shirayim from the rebbe,” but whether you remembered to bring God into your life.

It’s hard to remember to maintain the special focus. It’s hard to make the Shabbos table conversation one of Torah and holiness at the forefront instead of as an afterthought at desert time.

The Yalkut Shimoni reminds us that we can follow even the most simple ingredients.

We must take the most we can out of the sermon. No matter where we find ourselves for Shabbos. Remember and recall not just whatever story or good line the rabbi told. But take the Torah content and message to heart.

We must make the most we can out of Shabbos. Seek to crown God as King in His World, and bear witness to His role in our lives. We who are so good at going through motions must strive to take all that we do to the next level. To feel as if we are His subjects at all times, with the responsibility, or better yet, privilege we have to fulfill His will.

Wednesday, February 20, 2019

The Kiyor - A Metaphor for Not 'Washing Our Hands' of Our Fellow Jews' Spiritual Needs

Parshat Ki Tisa

by Rabbi Avi Billet

The very last of the vessels of the Mishkan is finally described in chapter 30 as we learn of the “kiyor” – the washbasin the Kohanim were to utilize before involving themselves in the service of the Tabernacle.
“When they come to the Tent of Meeting, they are to wash with water [in order] not to die, or [they must wash] when approaching the altar to perform the divine service, presenting a fire offering to God. They must first wash their hands and feet [in order] not to die. This shall be for [Aaron] and his descendants a law for all time, for all generations.” (30:20-21) 
It is rather curious that in the span of two verses the same warning that “they not die” is repeated. This should seem superfluous as the context hasn’t changed at all, and both verses are connected to how the washing must take place in association with Mishkan-service.

The Pesikta notes on verse 21 that there are a number of things the Kohanim were warned of that could cause their death – such as if they were to perform the service drunk, with heads uncovered, without having had atonement done, missing a garment, and having neglected the washing of hands and feet.

As an aside, the end of Tetzaveh’s focus on both the sanctification of God that will take place at the time of the dedication of the Mishkan, along with the instructions for the construction of the small mizbeach – where k’toret spices are to be burned – along with our double reminder of how going unwashed or with unwashed hands can lead to Kohanic-death might all combine to be a premonition that Kohanim will be dying soon. We who have read the story before know what is coming in Vayikra Chapter 10. 

Leaving that aside, we are meant to understand, if at all possible, why the Torah would have the exact same warning twice, so close to each other.

The Or HaChaim notes a small difference in how the washings are presented. The repeat is meant to emphasize that even if the Kohen has just emerged from Tevillah (dunking in a mikveh or other body of water) he is still required to wash his hands and feet. It’s not about the removal of tumah alone. It is that the specific act of washing hands and feet is intentional and necessary.

One could take the leap to the perspective of the Shakh on the Torah (Rav Mordechai HaKohen) which argues that the second washing we hear of – which is for all time, for all generations – refers to the washing one does before eating. He is not suggesting that if one neglects to wash one’s hands before eating one will die, but rather that “one who does not wash is getting sustenance from ‘tameh,’ which is the breeding ground of death. Thus the word 'rachatz' (רחצ - to wash) has its letters switched around to read 'ratzach' (רצח - to be killed). Washing one’s hand elevates the fingers to holiness," allowing for eating to become a holy act.

Again, what we are seeing is that the washing of hands is not merely ritualistic but most intentional.

A look at some of the classic commentaries shows us the following explanations:

Rashi: The repetition shows that someone who serves on the Mizbeach without having washed hands is also culpable, because the first passage is only referring to those who enter the Mishkan without having washed (presumably their bodies).

Ibn Ezra: The Torah is emphasizing how important and significant it is that every new entry requires a new handwashing.

Chizkuni: They are being reminded of how important this rule (of washing hands) is... forever.

The Netziv takes it all a step further, comparing the “death warning” to that of the Kohen who approaches while missing one of his Kohen-clothes. In comparing the idea of washing hands and feet to wearing the necessary Kohen-clothes, the warning for wearing the proper garments is only for when the kohanim are engaged in doing actual Avodah.

The warning for washing hands and feet, however, applies even if they are just entering the Mishkan for a perfunctory task unrelated to their activities of holiness, such as to fix something.

It is clear here that the “death” the kohanim are warned of is the kind that comes “at the hand of heaven.” As such it behooves the Kohen to make sure he himself has done what he needs to do in order to avoid anything terrible happening to him.

How much is it everyone else’s responsibility to oversee the Kohen? It would seem that more than anything, the Kohen must learn the laws pertaining to his own conduct, so that he can self-monitor his situation so he not bring any kind of terrible consequence on himself.

For the rest of us, and certainly in the absence of a Mishkan, there are certainly spiritual obligations we have, and personal self-monitoring we should all be doing, related both to tumah/taharah and not bringing bad consequences on ourselves.

But we must always remember that our places of worship and study are and should be open for all who seek to have a connection with God. Even if the death we face is not a physical one, when the spirit is snuffed out or torn away from the Jew, the death of the soul follows close behind.

Perhaps the Torah is warning us of the most dire consequences which come if we “wash our hands” of the spiritual needs of our co-religionists.

The job of the kohanim was to take care of their own needs vis a vis God so they can serve as the conduits for the People in their own service of God. Surely if we are all doing our part as God has instructed us, we will be blessed to see neither physical or spiritual deaths in our places of worship and study.

Thursday, February 14, 2019

Aharon's Burden - Remembering ALL the Jewish People

Parshat Tetzaveh

by Rabbi Avi Billet

A year ago 17 families’ worlds and lives were turned upside down, as were the lives of countless relatives, friends and communities with the horrific shooting in Parkland, FL.

A year later, and we can and must remember. Not just because 5 of the families are Jewish, but because all 17 families were victims of a senseless criminal act that is now part of history, but very much remains part of our collective present.

There is no word for “history” in older Hebrew. In modern Hebrew, the word used is “Historia,” but in older Hebrew, history was defined based on the root “Zchor” – to remember. What people remember and carry as memorials - that defines history.

Tetzaveh is filled with memory – all aimed at teach the Bnei Yisrael about their history. In Chapter 28, we are told: “Place the two stones on the two shoulder pieces of the ephod as remembrance stones (Zikaron) for the sons of Israel, and Aharon will carry the names, before God, on his shoulders as a remembrance (Zikaron).“ (28:12)

It seemed pretty clear from the first mention of Zikaron that the stones atop the shoulder straps of the Ephod – on which were engraved the names of the 12 tribes - were meant to be Memorial stones for the tribes of Israel, both the individual sons of Yaakov and their descendants. This memorial is something Aharon was to carry with him always, in his role as Kohen Gadol.

The 12 stones of the Choshen were also a Zikaron.

Aharon was to carry the names of Bnei Yisrael, on the CHoshen, on his heart, as a Zikaron Before Hashem always. (28:29) 

The very next verse describes how the Choshen had the Urim and Tumim and that they were placed on Aharon’s heart (28:30).

Aharon’s job was to carry the laws or judgment of the Children of Israel on his heart always.

There was one more burden Aharon was to bear. When the Tzitz, the forehead plate, is described, we are told that it was to be on Aharon’s forehead.

“Aaron shall thus carry the device that expiates errors in the sacred offerings that the Israelites consecrate as holy gifts. It shall be on his forehead at all times to make [these offerings] acceptable for [the Israelites] before God.” (28:38)

Aharon was to carry the burden of mistakes in the Kodshim that Bnei Yisrael would bring. It would be on his forehead Tamid. Before God. Always.

To summarize: On his shoulders, a Zikaron remembers the past. On his heart, the names of the tribes of Israel were a Zikaron before God – a concern for the present. Finally, on his forehead, he carried the missteps of the Kodshim (holy offerings) - the future. This is the totality of the story of the Jewish people. This is what Aharon carried.

What do we carry on our shoulders, on our hearts, on our minds? Burdens? Cares? Loved ones? Do we think about others? Pray for others? Wish the very best for others? Try to help people have both a healing of the body and the soul, both of which are so needed today?. What we carry on our hearts, shoulders and minds is something to think about. It reflects the past, the present and the future.

What is a Zikaron Lifnei Hashem – a memory before God? Doesn’t He see everything, know everything? How could He possibly need a reminder for anything?

Memory is something humans have. “I recall a memory.” “If memory serves me right.” “I’m losing my memory.” “I have no memory of that.”

Memory is for us. We see the tzitzis and we are supposed to REMEMBER the Mitzvos of Hashem and do them. We have a seder to remember Yetzias Mitzrayim. How God was there for our ancestors, and how He remains there for us now. We have to remember Amalek. So we can make every effort and take every precaution that they not rise again. We have reminders, through the mezuzah, through certain seasonal mitzvos we have, through the Shema, of where we stand with relation to God.

WE need Reminders. God does not. And yet the memory is “before Hashem”?

Netziv explains that God’s memory is essentially triggered when a salvation is needed. Aside from Yosef’s memory of his dreams, the four “And he remembered” refers to God remembering Noach during the flood, remembering Avraham while Lot was being saved from Sodom, remembering Rachel post her claim that she would die if she has no child, and remembering Israel in Egypt and His promise to Avraham, Yitzchak and Yaakov.

Aharon’s carrying the Zikaron on his shoulders and on his heart was meant to serve as a constant reminder of the love God had for Avraham, Yitzchak and Yaakov, and their children. This is also why Rosh Hashana is called Yom HaZikaron – it’s a time when the memory of Avraham, Yitzchak and Yaakov is invoked in order to bring about what is hopefully a salvation for the Jewish people.

While there are certainly some people whose lives are devastated forever on account of tragedies, some manage to continue to live – even with a deep hole in the heart. And that hole is an important hole that should never be filled. Because if it is filled, there is no memory.

What we all must take from the memory of those lost to terrorism and senseless acts of violence and other tragedy is to do good and positive things in the memory of those whose lives were cut short. We make their memory a blessing when we do chesed and fulfill mitzvos in their name. In their memory. Or change policy – such as the Taylor Force Act to stop funding Palestinian terrorism. And that’s how we imitate Aharon, who carried the Bnei Yisrael, as a Zikaron before Hashem tamid.

Having a memory, having a sense of history, is meant to inspire us to be better people. Sadly we have to live life with an air of caution! But we must also promote the memory of our forbears and those who can no longer do good things, through bringing goodness to the world in their name, in their memory and on their behalf.

Monday, February 11, 2019

I will be running a Half Marathon in Jerusalem in March - with your help!

To my Dear Family, Shul Members, Friends,

As shared previously, on March 15th 13 Rabbis will i'yh have the zechus to run in Yerushalayim. With a lot of hard work and dedication I am making progress in my training and already reaching the 10 mile marker and almost ready for my race (of 13.1 miles!). It’s not an easy task to find the time and the energy to run each week but I believe this cause is worth all the effort.  

Please partner with me to support Kav L’Noar and Rabbiscanrun.org. I have currently raised $4,181 but have more to go to reach my goal of $6,000. Your help will make a big difference in my campaign and help us reach our collective goal of $90,000.  I thank those who have already contributed (this is not a re-appeal to you! Personal emails will be coming when the campaign is over), and so appreciate those who will contribute now. (For the record, I contributed too, as you can see in the list of contributions.)

Please partner with us as we run for families to help keep families running and help us spread the word that, YES RabbisCanRun!
PLEASE GIVE NOW        
We thank our Corporate Sponsors listed below. TO BECOME A CORPORATE SPONSOR PLEASE EMAIL mkaniel@olami.org for details.

With Much Appreciation,
Rabbi Avi Billet

OUR CORPORATE SPONSORS:

ABC COMMUNICATIONS
Centurion Anesthesia (https://www.centurionanesthesia.com)
Scott J. Rothenberg, Esq. (www.InjuryLawyer.com)
Red Group Management  (http://www.redgroupny.com)

Wednesday, February 6, 2019

Rising Above the Loneliness - with God's Help

Parshat Terumah

by Rabbi Avi Billet

In one of the opening statements of his essay “The Lonely Man of Faith,” Rabbi Joseph B. Soloveitchik writes “The nature of the dilemma can be stated in a three-word sentence. I am lonely.” 

He goes on to explain that he is not lonely in the sense of not having friends and loved ones. That would be categorized as being “alone.” He is lonely, as in misunderstood by others, as in having thoughts and feelings that others don’t share, see, or relate to. He relates this loneliness to the verse of “For my father and mother have abandoned me, and God has gathered me in.” (From Tehillim 27, L’David Hashem Ori) I don’t even have my parents to lean back on – all I have is God.

It is a fantastic essay.

Different life choices, and in particular some professions, can lead anyone to a similar kind of feeling. Several times have I heard Dr. David Pelcovitz tell the story of the Rebbe RaShab, the 5th Lubavitcher Rebbe (Sholom Dovber Schneersohn), who wrote in his diary of feeling similarly lonely. He describes how he went to a famous doctor (possibly Freud) for help with his loneliness. The guidance he was given, which he found helpful, was to ask people for feedback on the work he was doing, as a Rebbe, in helping them.

How does one fill the existential loneliness one might feel? For Rabbi Soloveitchik, having family, friends, colleagues, students, helped counter feeling alone. But it could not undo the loneliness. Only God could do that.

It’s a fascinating concept that King David introduced us to: when parents are gone, God gathers me in.

But the truth is that this teaching is one of the oldest teachings in Parshat Terumah.

On the verse “They shall make for Me a sanctuary and I will dwell in them,” the literal interpretation or translation is hard to understand. The verse should say, “And when you make a sanctuary for Me, I will dwell amongst you.”

Most divrei Torah on this parsha that focus on this verse follow the interpretation that the creation of a sanctuary will translate to God being found in the hearts, minds, and bodies of the Israelites.

And I think that is really what Rabbi Soloveitchik was getting at. How does a person create a sanctuary of God in oneself, in order to, with God’s help, overcome loneliness?

Each of us ought to ask ourselves, does God dwell in me?

For those who are naturally more spiritual, perhaps the answer is an easy “Yes.” For others, each of us can hopefully find a way that “God’s presence in me” is tangible and noticeable.

What does it take? I think one important step is tapping into our tefillah (prayer) experience. Of course, finding the strength to put away the phone during the week is paramount! Between the words of the siddur, the words of Psalms, and just the atmosphere we can easily create in the right space and with the right group of people, we can let the words we say penetrate our hearts. I find the very familiar songs of Adon Olam and Yigdal to be so profound in helping us achieve that – except that we tend to view them as children’s songs. I have found sitting down (focus), while reading the English while reciting the so-familiar Hebrew words to be an absolute game-changer in remembering to Whom we are praying.

In explaining why Aharon became the High Priest over Moshe, the Slonimer Rebbe noted there are two kinds of humility – Moshe’s type came from an understanding of the infinity of God, and realizing that man is nothing in comparison. Aharon’s humility came from going through a broken heart, through feeling oneself as the lowest of the low, only able to stand in the presence of the Almighty because of God’s graciousness in accepting Teshuva. This is something Moshe couldn’t relate to. He hadn’t sinned with the Golden Calf. But Aharon had.

If we can approach God with either kind of humility, we are well on our way to having God dwell in us.

Rabbi Soloveitchik’s loneliness was a type which should challenge each of us. How can I build to have such a relationship with God? How can I make my regular tefillah, my learning, my dedication, my service of God turn into an insurance policy, that I build on and continue to foster, so that when I need God, He carries me?

Because I know if He is carrying me, if He dwells in me, I will never feel lonely.