Unanimous Disapproval of Bad Behavior

It is a shame that these events are being politicized in Israel. The Israeli Left is blaming the Israeli Right for violence perpetrated by individuals. While both the Left AND the Right have condemned these acts of violence. Perhaps instead of pointing fingers, we can all look to how to respond in mourning to these tragedies, instead of blaming people who had nothing to do with the acts of violence. 

Parshat Eikev 

 by Rabbi Avi Billet 

 Last week, from Tisha B’Av through Tu B’Av (7/26 – 7/31), was loaded with a particularly bizarre set of circumstances in Israel. From the vandalism on a Conservative (Masorti) synagogue in Modiin on Tisha B’Av, to the inexcusable stabbings at the gay pride parade – which led to a death of Shira Banki as reported on Sunday of this week, to the arson attack on the Dawabsheh family home in Duma last Friday in which an 18-month old toddler died, one wonders what happened to the idea of being a light unto the nations.

 Of course, the media is all over these stories, as they should be, for each one, in its own way, is a heinous crime. As of this writing, the perpetrators of the vandalism and the arson had not been caught, and the speculation of both sets of attackers being Jews is circumstantial. But as most are assuming that the perpetrators in both cases are Jewish, let’s go with that assumption for now. The parade-stabber/murderer is clearly Jewish.

 In Devarim 8:14, Moshe warns the people of what will happen when “your heart may then grow haughty, and you may forget God your Lord, the One who brought you out of the slave house that was Egypt.”

 Ibn Ezra describes this haughtiness as the kind that comes from forgetting your past slave-life, and the suffering and the hunger and thirst you underwent. Presumably because now you have it all, life is good and easy, and you are coasting through a good life.

 For more than a generation, the question of whether the Zionist-spirit is dead has been discussed in various mediums. The pioneering spirit to build the country has been replaced by an “it’s been built, now what?” different kind of sense-of-purpose question.

 It has been argued that Arabs who engage in terror do so because they don’t have a self-fulfilling sense of purpose. They live in a culture of hate, in which too many people do not work, and therefore have the time to focus on destroying others’ lives instead of focusing on how to improve their own lives. How many people with families and a sense of purpose (a real job) engage in acts of terror? I would imagine the percentages are much lower than the unmarried non-working terrorists.

There is no question that Israel has been on the forefront of the world’s stage in technological innovation in medicine, arms-development, wifi and cellular technology, and hi-tech (computer systems, databases and apps). And so much more. Israel’s field hospitals in disaster and war zones is second to none, and is a model for the world of efficiency, care, and what it means to truly give in terms of resources, time, and manpower. So much good emanates from the tiny Jewish State, which aims to fulfill its purpose of being an accepted, contributing nation among nations.

 But then we have a week like last week, and the pundits come out with an all-out criticism of the Jewish state.

 As if the criminals represent the Jewish people. Which they don’t. And this point has been made clear with 100 percent condemnation from public leaders and private citizens alike.

 Some look at the arson story, for example, responding, “Yeah? You think this is bad? How many Jews have been victims of terror? How many Jewish children have been killed by Arabs?” They don’t mean to justify, but to offer perspective. This is not helpful, however because all it does is try to create a moral superiority of “they have thousands of terrorists, we only have two.” Which is irrelevant.

 The only “comparison” to be made is the 100% condemnation of these despicable acts, which is a sign that while the Jewish people apparently have criminals among us, our People are repulsed by individuals who act in a manner that may reflect an arrogance such as the kind the Torah frowns upon. On the other side, the polls that show the percentages of pro-Palestinian folks who say “terrorism is sometimes justified” are almost always in double-digits.

 The parade-murderer helps us understand what the Talmud means when it talks about how there was a time in Jewish history when there were many murderers in Israel. There may have been self-appointed vigilantes who felt that they had the right to defend Torah law against those they considered sinners, and they chose to do so in a manner that included murder. The arsonists have a skewed perspective of right and wrong. And they are wrong. And the vandals also have no concept of what it means to respect property, even if they disagree with how Judaism is to be practiced.

 Rabbi Morris Joseph wrote in the late 1890s “We thereby affirm, not that we are better than others, but that we ought to be better.” The first step in being “better” (a self-monitored aspiration) is coming to a communal and national sense of purpose, hopefully which comes from the opposite angle of what causes the problem outlined in Devarim 8. Our hearts must never grow haughty, and we must never forget the God who took us out of Egypt.

 Because it is only through humility and through a God-oriented sense of purpose that respects all of God’s children that we can attain the status of being a light unto the nations. Most of us are there. We pray that all Jewish people can join the ranks of those who remember what it meant to be slaves, so we can live in peace with those who are looking to live a decent life.

 
                  

It Starts With LOVE

Parshat Eikev

by Rabbi Avi Billet

"If you listen to God, He will keep his covenant with you. He will love you, He will bless you, etc." (7:13)

And what does He want of you? "To walk in His ways, to love Him, and to serve" Him. (10:12)

After all, "God desired to love your forefathers, and He chose their children" (10:15) to be His nation, to whom He gave His Torah and has asked of them filial devotion.

He models this kind of love through "loving the stranger" (10:18), an expectation He commands and demands of you as well (10:19)

In the Shma we are famously instructed to love God (6:5), and that exhortation is repeated in 11:1, as a condition to receiving rain and good tidings in the land (11:13 – in "V'haya Im Shamoa"), and as a condition to inheriting the land from those who no longer deserve to be its inhabitants (11:22).

One can argue that a theme of the parsha is all about love. Sometimes love is natural, as in God's love for our forefathers and for the stranger; sometimes it is commanded, as in our love for God and our love for strangers.

Coinciding with the command to love God is a command to revere God. The Shma is preceded by "Fulfill the commandments so you may revere your God…" (6:2), and is followed by "Revere and serve your God" (6:13); and in our parsha, the instruction quoted above in 10:12 of what God wants of you actually begins with "to revere Hashem your God".

In Vayikra 19:14,32 and Vaikra 25:17,36,43 we see a number of "You must revere your God" instructions as well.

Essentially, these two themes, loving and fearing God, are counted as two separate commandments. The Sefer HaChinukh lists them as commandments 418 and 432 respectively, while Maimonides has them as positive commandments numbers 3 and 4.

Now that we are a little over a week away from the month of Elul, it is an appropriate time to revisit these commandments to understand how we can best go about fulfilling them.

Sefer HaChinukh suggests a person can't fulfill commandments properly without loving God. If our attitude is such that every deed we undertake as part of our religious experience is fulfilled under the premise that we are doing this for love of God, the act is elevated and becomes more real. This is why the Shma reminds us that these words must be on our hearts all day and every day, and we must review them in our heart and soul.

Revering God, on the other hand, manifests itself in a person who guards oneself from sin on account of fear of punishment and retribution.

Maimonides goes about explaining the two commandments slightly differently. He compares loving God to how a person relates to a person one admires greatly. "When you love someone, you pay attention to the person, you praise the person, and you want others to love your friend as well." You introduce your friend to everyone. Wouldn't it be amazing if we were able to communicate this about God?

The greatest example of this was our forefather Avraham whose existence dripped with his love of God. He is credited with bringing people close to  monotheism through simply being an exemplary character, with a stellar reputation, who just modeled his love for his God on a very consistent basis.

Fearing God is not just about being scared, or fearful of punishment. It is about a higher level of respect, including not taking or using God's name in vain.

These commandments are hard to take on in practical terms. How does one apply love or reverence to a being we can not see, to which we cannot relate in our o-so-humanly needy way?

Through example. We know how to love our parents. We know how to love our children. We must view our love of God in such a way.

God's modeling of love of the stranger is helpful as well. Whether the "stranger" is a convert or someone who has chosen to live amongst the Jewish people, the life choice that causes one to give up everything to cling to the Jewish people is so beloved to God, that His love effuses to that person in a way which is humbling to the rest of us. How could we ever mistreat or stigmatize someone who has, by choice, joined our people, who God Himself loves unconditionally?

And finally, as Rabbi Chanina suggests in the Gemara (BRachot 33b), even reverence of God is something which is not as challenging as we thought. When Moshe introduces it in our parsha, Moshe says, "What does God 'ask' of you?" Not what does God demand or command, but what does God ask.

One can suggest that the reverence of God begins as a choice we make – because the command is more frightening and stifling. But if we build up our love of God, through the model of our relatives and the model of the stranger, hopefully we will come to revere God in the way the Torah otherwise instructs.

It starts with love. The rest will naturally flow from that source.

Remember, and Don't Forget

Parshat Eikev

by Rabbi Avi Billet

Our parsha features another installment of Moshe's Wilderness History 101 crash course for the second generation entitled, "Where your parents messed up at the Golden Calf." It includes Moshe's account of how he went up the mountain for three 40-day spans, and how God wanted to destroy the people but didn't on account of Moshe's prayer.

In the midst of all this, we are told one of the "Shesh Zekhirot," the six remembrances that appear at the end of Shacharit in many siddurim.

"Remember and never forget how you provoked God your Lord inthe desert. From the day you left Egypt until you came here, you have been rebelling against God." (Devarim 9:7)

The other remembrances are understandably important daily reminders.

Remembering the Exodus (1) reminds us of God's presence and His covenant to watch over the descendants of Avraham. Remembering Shabbos (2) is ostensibly one of the most distinguishing qualities of the Jewish people. God's presence at Mt. Sinai (3) is the source for our devotion and dedication to the Torah. What happened to Miriam (4) is an ever constant reminder that even the greatest amongst us are at the perils of lashon hara, and that it is a draw that we ought to fight from the deepest depths of our souls. The reminder to destroy Amalek (5) is a call to vigilance, for the Jewish people to never lose sight of the fact that there are enemies looking to harm them.

But a reminder about the Golden Calf (6) seems counterintuitive and counterproductive. Why should we be reminded of a major sin? Why be reminded of a time when our ancestors angered God? While it may be true that the generation that left Egypt rebelled against God over and over, does that mean their children were similarly rebelling? Furthermore, is this remembrance something that was meant to be applicable for all time, or was Moshe directing this memory-command at the people he addressed for only their time, and only their generation?

The obvious answer is that if we are reminded of how bad we were, the memory of the repercussions of such a sin might trigger an automatic forcefield against the inclination to sin.

The Torah Temimah (Baruch HaLevi Epstein) struggled over how to explain this "remembrance."
Firstly, the injunction to "Remember" is more than just feeling it in your heart. It is about repeating things over and over, saying things with your mouth. He mentions Ramban's struggle over whether to count this as a mitzvah – was it a one-time instruction or was it for all future generations?

"I don't know what are the qualities of this mitzvah…" Rabbi Epstein pondered. "What to remember, when to remember, because many of the parshas in the Torah talk about when Israel angered God. For example: desiring to return to Egypt, the collecting of the manna on Shabbos, the Golden Calf, the complainers, the spies, the Korach rebellion, and the Baal Pe'or debacle, etc."

He goes on to compare this instruction to the instructions for wiping out Amalek, which includes a similar double language of "Remember, and do not forget." Not to forget is an instruction to be reminded once a year. But to 'remember,' that is something that must take place on a regular basis. It requires an active regular effort.

It might not be a mitzvah – Maimonides, for example, did not codify it – but there is something about the instruction that should strike a resounding chord in our souls. Which would suggest that it was not only meant for the wandering Israelites, but for us as well.

Rabbi JJ Schacter shared a very interesting insight inhis Tisha B'Av webcast, on an unrelated subject, that I believe has relevance here. He quoted Rav Kasher who said that sometimes when you see a verse quoted, it is meant to remind us of the context in which the verse appears. In our case, the next few verses describe how at the moment we generally, and Moshe most specifically, were closest to God, we somehow managed to turn in the other direction – a complete 180 degree turn.

In essence, this reminder is doubled (Remember and don't forget) because the draw of sin is so powerful, so enticing, so exciting, we need to put up safeguards at every turn.

Ramban wrote a very instructive letter to his son, encouraging him to read it once a week in order to stay on the proper path and veer away from sin. (It can be found in some prayer books near the six remembrances.)

Maybe we can find a mussar talk that we can read or some inspiring recording that we can listen to as a podcast or on a cd in the car. If we can take the positive action step of giving ourselves such constant reminders, with God's help we will succeed in warding off the yetzer hara as we continue to grow spiritually in our continued quest to get closer to God.

Everyone, Shlit"a

This was also published in the Jewish Star

Parshat Eikev

Other than former current events, nothing dates a Jewish book more than when discussing or quoting a deceased great rabbi, the text writes "Rabbi So and So, Shlit'a, says…"

The term "Shlit'a" is an acronym for "She'yichyeh L'Yamim Tovim Arukhim" – that he should live for good, lengthened days. Essentially it is a wish upon the person that he have a long and blessed life, a term which is out of place when one is speaking of or reading of the deceased.

While it is a lovely sentiment to write about someone, due to the likelihood that the written word will outlive the person, it seems silly to put it in print for posterity. Besides, it is really meant to be a blessing one "says" about someone, naturally, when quoting the living person or speaking nicely of the person.

And, of course, we should not limit it to rabbis, but should thus bless everyone we know with good, lengthened days. Including my two grandmothers, who should, please God, continue to live and be well.

How does one achieve long life? My grandfather, zichrono livracha (may his memory be a blessing) used to say "If you eat horseradish for a hundred years, you'll live a long life." Can't argue with that.

But many, fond of Torah trivia, will tell you there are two mitzvot in the Torah for which people merit long life – honoring one's parents (Shmot 20), and sending away the mother bird (Devarim 22). Is that all it takes?

Not really. Because the Torah, in fact, has many other examples of activities and manners of behavior that raise the possibility of extended and multiplied days on this earth, or in the Land of Israel proper.

Devarim 4:40 suggests that keeping the commandments is good for you and lengthens your days "Al ha'adamah" – on the land, just as does honoring your parents, as depicted in Devarim 5:15

Devarim 5:29 says that following God's path brings "life, is good for you, and causes lengthened days in the land of your inheritance." This verse leads into chapter 6:1-2, in which observance of the commandments leads to fear of God, which causes you and your descendants to have lengthened days.

In telling about Datan and Aviram, who were swallowed by the ground, the Israelites are reminded that their eyes have shown them the benefits of allegiance to God. "Keep the commandments, so you will be strengthened, and you will come and inherit the land – so your days may be lengthened on the earth that God promised to your fathers." (Devarim 11:6-9)

Perhaps most famously, the second paragraph of Shema, which appears in our parsha, concludes with the phrase "In order that yours and your children's days be multiplied on this earth" (11:21) suggesting that the wearing of tefillin and the placing of mezuzahs, as well as general allegiance to God's instructions ("Im shamoa tish'm'u"), will give one extended life.

Oddly enough, Devarim 25:14-15 says that carrying honest weights and measures and being honest in business is a good ingredient for lengthened days.

The ends of Devarim 30 and Devarim 32 also speak about how general commandment fulfillment leads to extended life while turning away from God leads to eternal destruction.

It could be that there is a focus on honoring parents and the sending of the mother bird because they are two specific positive commandments on opposite ends of extremes – honoring parents is most difficult, while sending away the mother bird is a relatively simple act.

Do any of these guarantee long life? Not really. They all guarantee lengthened days. And since lengthened days is relative in every person's life experience, we have no idea who has merited and who has not. A person who dies at 40 may have been meant to live twenty years, while a person who dies at 80 may have been meant to live 100 years. We don't really know how God takes account.

Our task is to do our best, to choose a life of Torah and to be as committed to God as possible. Upright observance, sanctifying God's name, and living as a model Jew from whom all walk away thinking "That is a Godly person," are the common denominator of all the ticket items mentioned above. You certainly don't need to be a rabbi to do all of them, and it is highly inappropriate to expect one's rabbi to "be Jewish for me."

May you, shlit'a, and you, shlit'a, (rabbi or not) merit to follow as many of these precepts as possible. In their merit and in the merit of the other fine deeds we will accomplish in our limited time on earth, may we enjoy the blessings of health and happiness as we live out our good, lengthened days.