Parshat Chayei Sarah
by Rabbi Avi Billet
Were the forefathers Jewish? Leaving aside the anachronistic usage of the term “Jew,” there are those who argue that while the forefathers were monotheists, calling them “Jewish” is a little disingenuous. The Torah hadn’t been given yet. The covenant of Sinai hadn’t been forged. And so, while they may have been the beginners of the family that came to be known as the Children of Israel, the faith that we now call Judaism hadn’t been formalized yet.
On the other hand, the Talmud claims the forefathers kept all the commandments of the Torah! (See Yoma 28b)
Notwithstanding the fact that during his lifetime Revelation is a few hundred years away, it can be argued that Avraham is the prototype of what it means to be a Jew.
Consider this eulogy for Avraham, written by Rabbi Hertz, and inserted in his Chumash at the conclusion of Avraham's living presence in the Torah.
"He was the pioneer of the monotheistic faith. Undazzled by the heathen splendour of a Nimrod or a Hammurabi, he broke away from the debasing idol worship of his contemporaries and devoted his life to the spread of the world-redeeming truth of the One God of Justice and Mercy.
"He forsook home and family to brave unknown dangers because the voice of God bade him to do so; and, throughout his days, he showed that faith in God must manifest itself in implicit and joyful surrender to the divine will. He set an example to his children to sacrifice the dearest things in life, and, if need be, life itself, in defence of the spiritual heritage entrusted to their care. While he preached renunciation in the service of God, he practiced lovingkindness and truth towards his fellow men.
"Witness his magnanimity in his treatment of Lot; his fine independence in the refusal to accept any of the spoils won by the men of his household; his benevolence in the reception of strangers; his stand for justice, when pleading for the doomed cities; and his all-embracing human pity, which extended even to those who had forfeited all claim to human pity.
Finally, the closing stage of his life shows his anxiety that the spiritual treasures he has acquired should be transmitted unimpaired through his son to future generations. Verily, he is the prototype of what the Jew should aim at being.
"The divine exhortation addressed to Israel is in Isaiah 51:1-2: 'Look at Abraham your father and at Sarah who bore you, for when he was but one I called him, and I blessed him and made him many.'"
Interestingly, Avraham is the only person referred to in the Bible as “Echad” – one; he's the only figure other than God to get such a title (see the Shema). In Ezekiel 33:24 we are told, "Son of man, the dwellers of these ruins on the soil of Israel speak, saying: Abraham was one, and he inherited the land, and we are many-the land has [surely] been given to us for an inheritance”
Avraham was Echad – He was the first, he was the innovator, he was the one who set the tone for what a Godlike existence could be, ought to be, is… essentially, what Rabbi Hertz called the prototype.
On the other hand, we have a different perspective about Avraham that should give us pause to think what our lives are about. Isaiah prophesied about a time when the needy will no longer need assistance. (Isaiah 29:20-24) In that section, the prophet throws in an aside, “Therefore, so said the Lord to the House of Jacob, Who redeemed Abraham…”
What could the verse be telling us when it says Avraham was redeemed by Yaakov?
The Midrash Rabba (63:2) tells us that “Avraham was saved from the fiery furnace on account of the merit of Yaakov." In other words, the Midrash explains, God knowing the future is what saved Avraham, because He knew Yaakov was to be born.
There are two choices we have in front of us when we think of modeling a life after Avraham:
The first is to be the first – or to model the path set for us by Avraham, each in our own way. I'm going to be an innovator. I'm going to connect with God on my terms. In my way.
The second is to take a moment to pause and reflect what purpose our lives serve. Perhaps some of us should consider that we are here "in the merit of someone who descends from me, whom I may or may not meet in my lifetime. It is my duty to set a good example. To become a legacy that people speak fondly of, not only when I'm alive, but even moreso when I'm gone." It is the people who leave legacies who, like Avraham, find a way to live forever.
Avraham's life mission was to get close to God, to have a child with whom he could share his spiritual legacy, and to teach his children about righteousness and justice. There are movements today that call for Justice (in some cases referring to the non-prosecution for a crime), but they neglect to focus on the need for righteousness among the same people for whom they seek “justice.” This is disingenuous and does not promote for an advancement of society – only hurting the next victims of criminals and excusing those who could otherwise be making positive contributions to society were they to simply make better choices in life.
May we merit to live up to the two lessons we learn from Avraham. To continue the tradition set by Avraham, the prototype, in our relationship with God, and to live up to the legacy we are meant to transmit to those whose future existence may have redeemed our own existence.
Wednesday, November 23, 2016
Tuesday, November 22, 2016
Sarah, Mt. Moriah, and Prayers for Our Future
Parshat Vayera
by Rabbi Avi Billet
When we consider the story of the binding of Yitzchak, one of the characters, who played quite a significant role until this tale, is conspicuously missing from the narrative. That person, of course, is Sarah.
In Pirkei D’Rabi Eliezer, chapter 32, he notes the absence of Sarah from the tale, but also suggests that when Sarah heard about where Avraham and Yitzchak were going and why, she cried in a manner echoing the sound of the Shofar (this suggests we blow shofar in this memory, not for the mother of Sisera – which can easily be explained as a mistake in pronunciation, as the Torah Shleimah claims: it should be the cries of “Ema Sarah” not “Ema d’Siserah”).
Rashi, among others, attaches Sarah’s death to the news of the binding and sacrifice of her son. And yet, that is not the only interpretation, as the age of Yitzchak at this time is subject to debate as well. And if it is true that he was younger than 37 (his age at the time of his mother’s death) at his binding, then Sarah’s death would not be connected to the news of his near-death experience. This is the approach in “Yismach Moshe,” in which the argument is presented that Sarah’s life was cut short on account of the way she treated her husband (and Hagar) in chapter 16.
It is interesting to note that the passage in Pirkei D’Rabi Eliezer describes how Mt. Moriah became a significant hotspot for the patriarchal family after the day of Isaac’s binding. Rabbi Yehuda explains that after 20 years of infertility, Yitzchak brought his wife to the place he had felt closest to God in his lifetime, so they could pray. It was in that spot that Yitzchak prayed and was heeded to, so his wife could become pregnant. When it was time for her to give birth and the labor pangs were driving her insane, Rivkah went “to seek out God” at a pure place: Mt. Moriah.
And of course, Yaakov’s dream and prayer on his way to Lavan’s house are also credited with having taken place there.
It is incredible that Mt. Moriah became a place associated with prayer at such an early time in our history. And that most of the prayers mentioned here were aimed at securing the future through the next generation. Though she is not there, Sarah cries out for her son when he is there at that place. Yitzchak prays to have children. Rivkah prays that her children can be born and that she could survive to raise them. Yaakov is thinking about his journey ahead, but he knows he is looking to find a wife, which will hopefully lead to his having children.
One can make the argument that Sarah’s prayer really set the stage for the experience that turned Mt. Moriah into a place not just of sacrifice, but of prayer. Not only of prayer, but of the kind of prayer that gets and almost immediate response to those who seek out God in a sincere way.
Mt. Moriah may not be available as a place of prayer to us today (as we say, the only people discriminated against as an official policy, unrelated to security concerns, in Israel are Jews looking to pray on the Temple Mount) but it does not take away from the significance of that space, and of the important focus in prayer – focusing on the wellbeing of our children and of future generations of our people.
This is the guiding principle that governed Sarah’s thinking in Chapters 21 and 22, when she alone seemed to be the only one looking out for Yitzchak’s wellbeing (even though Avraham had other considerations driving him).
May we be blessed to remember why we live the lives we live. Whether we have or do not have children, we attach ourselves to the Jewish system in which we find ourselves, because we are hoping to serve as a model and to look out for the longevity of our people for generations to come.
by Rabbi Avi Billet
When we consider the story of the binding of Yitzchak, one of the characters, who played quite a significant role until this tale, is conspicuously missing from the narrative. That person, of course, is Sarah.
In Pirkei D’Rabi Eliezer, chapter 32, he notes the absence of Sarah from the tale, but also suggests that when Sarah heard about where Avraham and Yitzchak were going and why, she cried in a manner echoing the sound of the Shofar (this suggests we blow shofar in this memory, not for the mother of Sisera – which can easily be explained as a mistake in pronunciation, as the Torah Shleimah claims: it should be the cries of “Ema Sarah” not “Ema d’Siserah”).
Rashi, among others, attaches Sarah’s death to the news of the binding and sacrifice of her son. And yet, that is not the only interpretation, as the age of Yitzchak at this time is subject to debate as well. And if it is true that he was younger than 37 (his age at the time of his mother’s death) at his binding, then Sarah’s death would not be connected to the news of his near-death experience. This is the approach in “Yismach Moshe,” in which the argument is presented that Sarah’s life was cut short on account of the way she treated her husband (and Hagar) in chapter 16.
It is interesting to note that the passage in Pirkei D’Rabi Eliezer describes how Mt. Moriah became a significant hotspot for the patriarchal family after the day of Isaac’s binding. Rabbi Yehuda explains that after 20 years of infertility, Yitzchak brought his wife to the place he had felt closest to God in his lifetime, so they could pray. It was in that spot that Yitzchak prayed and was heeded to, so his wife could become pregnant. When it was time for her to give birth and the labor pangs were driving her insane, Rivkah went “to seek out God” at a pure place: Mt. Moriah.
And of course, Yaakov’s dream and prayer on his way to Lavan’s house are also credited with having taken place there.
It is incredible that Mt. Moriah became a place associated with prayer at such an early time in our history. And that most of the prayers mentioned here were aimed at securing the future through the next generation. Though she is not there, Sarah cries out for her son when he is there at that place. Yitzchak prays to have children. Rivkah prays that her children can be born and that she could survive to raise them. Yaakov is thinking about his journey ahead, but he knows he is looking to find a wife, which will hopefully lead to his having children.
One can make the argument that Sarah’s prayer really set the stage for the experience that turned Mt. Moriah into a place not just of sacrifice, but of prayer. Not only of prayer, but of the kind of prayer that gets and almost immediate response to those who seek out God in a sincere way.
Mt. Moriah may not be available as a place of prayer to us today (as we say, the only people discriminated against as an official policy, unrelated to security concerns, in Israel are Jews looking to pray on the Temple Mount) but it does not take away from the significance of that space, and of the important focus in prayer – focusing on the wellbeing of our children and of future generations of our people.
This is the guiding principle that governed Sarah’s thinking in Chapters 21 and 22, when she alone seemed to be the only one looking out for Yitzchak’s wellbeing (even though Avraham had other considerations driving him).
May we be blessed to remember why we live the lives we live. Whether we have or do not have children, we attach ourselves to the Jewish system in which we find ourselves, because we are hoping to serve as a model and to look out for the longevity of our people for generations to come.
Monday, November 21, 2016
Being Courteous and Respectful: A Motto For Life (even when you disagree!)
Parshat Lekh Lekha
by Rabbi Avi Billet
In our parsha we read about how when Avraham and Sarah embarked on their journey to the Land God will show them, they brought with them the “souls they made in Charan.”
Who these people were is unclear – though there are a number of possibilities that the Midrash and meforshim advance, depending on how they define the word “Asu” – “they made.”
They were people who had been converted by Avraham and Sarah to monotheism.
Or people who had been taught to do what is right – perhaps a group of humanitarians.
Rashi suggests they were Avraham’s and Sarah’s servants because “Asah – to make” (עשה) can be understood to mean “an acquisition.”
Rabbi Samson Raphael Hirsch notes how their “souls were created” – that people who had no spirituality in their lives had a fire lit inside them by Avraham and Sarah. Each “soul” was truly “created” by their mentors.
The Talmud (Avodah Zarah 9a) says that the world is supposed to last 6,000 years from Adam until the Messiah. The first 2000 years were emptiness, the next 2000 years were years of Torah, and the final 2000 years are called Y’mot Hamoshiach – the Days of the Messiah. The Talmud suggests that Avraham was 52 when these souls were “created,” since he was born in the year 1948 from the creation of Adam. 1948 plus 52 equals 2000, and at that age the 2000 years of Torah began.
Midrash goes into specific detail as to how Avraham brought these people in, and showed them love (Midrash Rabba 84 – Vayeshev). “Avraham would bring them into his home, feed them, give them to drink, bring them close, and enter them under the wings of the divine.”
So what happened to these people? Why is this the only reference to them in the Torah? Where were they in all of Avraham’s adventures – maybe they make an appearance in the war to save Lot. Maybe some of them are circumcised when Avraham circumcises himself. But otherwise they disappear. We don’t hear about this group in Yitzchak’s time. They certainly don’t accompany Yaakov down to Egypt.
In his Pardes Yosef, Rabbi Yosef Pazanowski quotes the Alexander Rebbe who says that after Avraham died, Avraham’s converts did not want to learn from Yitzchak. They never saw him like Avraham. They stayed in their homes, “because they didn’t think of him as they thought of Avraham, and they sat in their homes until their (souls) became cold and they returned to their old ways.”
Rav Chanokh Henikh Alexander said, “This teaches us that a person should never say that the righteous person of today is not like the tzaddik of previous generations. A person must glean what he or she can out of the tzaddik of the current times.”
This is a very important lesson about perspective. We know there are no Rav Moshe Feinsteins today, no Rav Shlomo Zalman Auerbachs, no Rav Yosef Dov Soloveitchiks, no Rav Ovadiah Yosefs. But there are people we can learn from. Who can inspire us in our times. If we pine only for the days of yesteryear, we can never grow in the times in which we are living. Because we are only living in the past. And that is not a healthy approach to living.
There is another important lesson as well, one that perhaps we should have learned before the election of this week. And maybe, now that it is over, we can try again. And that is that we should find ways to look past the negative things we see in others, embrace our commonalities, and even embrace our differences! I have seen vitriol the likes of which I haven’t seen in any election in my lifetime. Even Bill Maher, the very liberal liberal, noted of late that the way he threw John McCain and Mitt Romney under the bus, two honorable men with whom he had many differences, was disgraceful in the previous two elections. (What he has said in this election is similarly disgraceful)
Political discussions should be a space in which people can respectfully express their views and, when necessary, debate, without having their character assaulted just because they have such a view. Anyone who voted for the main party candidates (Democrat and Republican) in this election had to look past MANY character flaws and disturbing personal history to cast a vote. Anyone who doesn’t see the looming inadequacies of each candidate is living with blinders.
The inability to see past a difference in worldview and to find common ground is what caused the souls Avraham and Sarah had brought with them to be lost to their ways once they were gone. This is also the danger of a cult of personality we see so often today, where people attach themselves to a rabbi or some kind of charismatic leader, and are aimless, hopeless and helpless when that leader dies, leaves the spotlight, or turns out to be corrupt.
So let us make a commitment to be like Avraham as described in the Midrash – and not like Yitzchak, who dropped the ball on Avraham’s people – to embrace people no matter where they are, and bring them up in their experience, whether religious or in general, and not put them down.
And with the new leadership which will be upon this nation come January, may God bless the United States of America. We’ll need all the divine help we can get.
by Rabbi Avi Billet
In our parsha we read about how when Avraham and Sarah embarked on their journey to the Land God will show them, they brought with them the “souls they made in Charan.”
Who these people were is unclear – though there are a number of possibilities that the Midrash and meforshim advance, depending on how they define the word “Asu” – “they made.”
They were people who had been converted by Avraham and Sarah to monotheism.
Or people who had been taught to do what is right – perhaps a group of humanitarians.
Rashi suggests they were Avraham’s and Sarah’s servants because “Asah – to make” (עשה) can be understood to mean “an acquisition.”
Rabbi Samson Raphael Hirsch notes how their “souls were created” – that people who had no spirituality in their lives had a fire lit inside them by Avraham and Sarah. Each “soul” was truly “created” by their mentors.
The Talmud (Avodah Zarah 9a) says that the world is supposed to last 6,000 years from Adam until the Messiah. The first 2000 years were emptiness, the next 2000 years were years of Torah, and the final 2000 years are called Y’mot Hamoshiach – the Days of the Messiah. The Talmud suggests that Avraham was 52 when these souls were “created,” since he was born in the year 1948 from the creation of Adam. 1948 plus 52 equals 2000, and at that age the 2000 years of Torah began.
Midrash goes into specific detail as to how Avraham brought these people in, and showed them love (Midrash Rabba 84 – Vayeshev). “Avraham would bring them into his home, feed them, give them to drink, bring them close, and enter them under the wings of the divine.”
So what happened to these people? Why is this the only reference to them in the Torah? Where were they in all of Avraham’s adventures – maybe they make an appearance in the war to save Lot. Maybe some of them are circumcised when Avraham circumcises himself. But otherwise they disappear. We don’t hear about this group in Yitzchak’s time. They certainly don’t accompany Yaakov down to Egypt.
In his Pardes Yosef, Rabbi Yosef Pazanowski quotes the Alexander Rebbe who says that after Avraham died, Avraham’s converts did not want to learn from Yitzchak. They never saw him like Avraham. They stayed in their homes, “because they didn’t think of him as they thought of Avraham, and they sat in their homes until their (souls) became cold and they returned to their old ways.”
Rav Chanokh Henikh Alexander said, “This teaches us that a person should never say that the righteous person of today is not like the tzaddik of previous generations. A person must glean what he or she can out of the tzaddik of the current times.”
This is a very important lesson about perspective. We know there are no Rav Moshe Feinsteins today, no Rav Shlomo Zalman Auerbachs, no Rav Yosef Dov Soloveitchiks, no Rav Ovadiah Yosefs. But there are people we can learn from. Who can inspire us in our times. If we pine only for the days of yesteryear, we can never grow in the times in which we are living. Because we are only living in the past. And that is not a healthy approach to living.
There is another important lesson as well, one that perhaps we should have learned before the election of this week. And maybe, now that it is over, we can try again. And that is that we should find ways to look past the negative things we see in others, embrace our commonalities, and even embrace our differences! I have seen vitriol the likes of which I haven’t seen in any election in my lifetime. Even Bill Maher, the very liberal liberal, noted of late that the way he threw John McCain and Mitt Romney under the bus, two honorable men with whom he had many differences, was disgraceful in the previous two elections. (What he has said in this election is similarly disgraceful)
Political discussions should be a space in which people can respectfully express their views and, when necessary, debate, without having their character assaulted just because they have such a view. Anyone who voted for the main party candidates (Democrat and Republican) in this election had to look past MANY character flaws and disturbing personal history to cast a vote. Anyone who doesn’t see the looming inadequacies of each candidate is living with blinders.
The inability to see past a difference in worldview and to find common ground is what caused the souls Avraham and Sarah had brought with them to be lost to their ways once they were gone. This is also the danger of a cult of personality we see so often today, where people attach themselves to a rabbi or some kind of charismatic leader, and are aimless, hopeless and helpless when that leader dies, leaves the spotlight, or turns out to be corrupt.
So let us make a commitment to be like Avraham as described in the Midrash – and not like Yitzchak, who dropped the ball on Avraham’s people – to embrace people no matter where they are, and bring them up in their experience, whether religious or in general, and not put them down.
And with the new leadership which will be upon this nation come January, may God bless the United States of America. We’ll need all the divine help we can get.
Friday, November 4, 2016
Human goals... are they for the birds?
Parshat Noach
by Rabbi Avi Billet
Why send the raven – it didn’t seem to have a mission? Did the raven return to the Ark? Considering that it went out around three months before the occupants of the Ark were able to leave, was it able to fly around for that length of time? Why send the dove? Why not a different bird? Considering that the dove came back – seemingly unsuccessfully – why send it out again, why not change birds as he did from raven to dove?
Rabbi Chaim Paltiel notes that the raven was not sent “from being with him” nor was it sent “to see.” Firstly, the pure (what we might call “kosher”) birds lived with Noach in his domicile, while the impure (nonkosher) birds were elsewhere in the Ark. Secondly, the raven was not sent to see anything, because he was not sent on a particular mission. The Talmud tells us (Sanhedrin 108) that the raven was one of three beings (the others being the dog and Noach’s son Cham) that violated the moratorium on mating in the Ark. The raven was being sent out as a punishment – and it went back and forth, hoping Noach would take him back. Noach sent him out with the thought process that God had brought the flood on all living creatures, humans AND animals and birds, on account of sins of this nature. Noach felt he needed to send the raven off the boat.
Alshikh adds that the raven was sent out, after all rain ended, and he could perch himself on the deck of the Ark, because it is used to living on wood (branches). This kind of treatment was available to the raven, who had the gift of flight and the ability to survive in the elements, while the dog and Cham would not survive under such circumstances.
So why the dove? Alshikh quotes the Rabbis who say that the raven was not willing to go very far because he did not want to abandon his mate (I assume, even though Noach was blocking off access to her). But the dove is of a different mentality. It is very trusting of its mate – even if it is separate from her for a while, it did not enjoy being fed by Noach for it preferred to eat the bitter olive from God than any sweets from a human of flesh and blood. And Noach recognized this, saw that if the dove would find a place to live it wouldn’t come back, and through this he would know the land was dried up.
The only piece that is missing is why Noach would need such a sign. Wouldn’t he trust that God would tell him when to leave the Ark, as God in fact did in 8:16?
To summarize our answers, we see the raven was sent out for a very different reason than the dove – with no particular mission. It did not fly around aimlessly, as it simply moved its perch to the Ark’s deck. The dove was the bird that was itching to get away from the human, and ready to stay wherever it would find a place to stay. This is why the dove was sent again and again.
Which leaves us with Noach and his trust of God concern. This is a shot in the dark, but Noach demonstrated even at the beginning of the flood that he wasn’t going to wait for God to tell him what to do. (see Chapter 7:7-16, which is somewhat confusing) As such, waiting for God to tell him to leave wasn’t necessarily in his lexicon either.
The message we take from all this is that humans and animals all have character traits inherent in their nature. Some animals are more trusting of humans, some less so. Some march to the beat of their own drum, and some can be trained.
Humans also have their own issues with trust, and seeking out their own destiny. It is important to have trust in God. But sometimes it is also important not to wait for a sign from God, because that sign is not always coming. Some people are blessed to see signs in some or many of their experiences. But those who see that their destiny lies in the good decisions they make, and the initiatives they undertake to shape their future (“hishtadlut”) often see the true benefits of their efforts.
Like Noach, who – in general – did not wait around for things to happen, we should be blessed to take charge of our future, so we can see success in the areas of life which are in our control.
by Rabbi Avi Billet
“And he sent the raven, which went back and forth until the water dried up from upon the land. And he sent the dove from being with him, to see whether the water had lowered from being on the earth.” (8:7-8)A few questions strike us.
Why send the raven – it didn’t seem to have a mission? Did the raven return to the Ark? Considering that it went out around three months before the occupants of the Ark were able to leave, was it able to fly around for that length of time? Why send the dove? Why not a different bird? Considering that the dove came back – seemingly unsuccessfully – why send it out again, why not change birds as he did from raven to dove?
Rabbi Chaim Paltiel notes that the raven was not sent “from being with him” nor was it sent “to see.” Firstly, the pure (what we might call “kosher”) birds lived with Noach in his domicile, while the impure (nonkosher) birds were elsewhere in the Ark. Secondly, the raven was not sent to see anything, because he was not sent on a particular mission. The Talmud tells us (Sanhedrin 108) that the raven was one of three beings (the others being the dog and Noach’s son Cham) that violated the moratorium on mating in the Ark. The raven was being sent out as a punishment – and it went back and forth, hoping Noach would take him back. Noach sent him out with the thought process that God had brought the flood on all living creatures, humans AND animals and birds, on account of sins of this nature. Noach felt he needed to send the raven off the boat.
Alshikh adds that the raven was sent out, after all rain ended, and he could perch himself on the deck of the Ark, because it is used to living on wood (branches). This kind of treatment was available to the raven, who had the gift of flight and the ability to survive in the elements, while the dog and Cham would not survive under such circumstances.
So why the dove? Alshikh quotes the Rabbis who say that the raven was not willing to go very far because he did not want to abandon his mate (I assume, even though Noach was blocking off access to her). But the dove is of a different mentality. It is very trusting of its mate – even if it is separate from her for a while, it did not enjoy being fed by Noach for it preferred to eat the bitter olive from God than any sweets from a human of flesh and blood. And Noach recognized this, saw that if the dove would find a place to live it wouldn’t come back, and through this he would know the land was dried up.
The only piece that is missing is why Noach would need such a sign. Wouldn’t he trust that God would tell him when to leave the Ark, as God in fact did in 8:16?
To summarize our answers, we see the raven was sent out for a very different reason than the dove – with no particular mission. It did not fly around aimlessly, as it simply moved its perch to the Ark’s deck. The dove was the bird that was itching to get away from the human, and ready to stay wherever it would find a place to stay. This is why the dove was sent again and again.
Which leaves us with Noach and his trust of God concern. This is a shot in the dark, but Noach demonstrated even at the beginning of the flood that he wasn’t going to wait for God to tell him what to do. (see Chapter 7:7-16, which is somewhat confusing) As such, waiting for God to tell him to leave wasn’t necessarily in his lexicon either.
The message we take from all this is that humans and animals all have character traits inherent in their nature. Some animals are more trusting of humans, some less so. Some march to the beat of their own drum, and some can be trained.
Humans also have their own issues with trust, and seeking out their own destiny. It is important to have trust in God. But sometimes it is also important not to wait for a sign from God, because that sign is not always coming. Some people are blessed to see signs in some or many of their experiences. But those who see that their destiny lies in the good decisions they make, and the initiatives they undertake to shape their future (“hishtadlut”) often see the true benefits of their efforts.
Like Noach, who – in general – did not wait around for things to happen, we should be blessed to take charge of our future, so we can see success in the areas of life which are in our control.
Thursday, October 13, 2016
Raising Children Can't be Pawned Off to Others!
Parshat Haazinu
by Rabbi Avi Billet
With that as a background, the statement Moshe makes about being able to instruct children is actually profound. We tend to focus on our own connection to Judaism, and leave our children’s connection to their Rebbeim and Morahs. But Moshe does not say here “Leave your children’s education in others’ hands!” He says it is YOUR job.
So now I’m going to be a bit blunt. But there’s no time like right after Yom Kippur to face some hard truths.
Schools can only do so much. They have a lot to cram into an overwhelmingly long day. They can’t focus on middos. They bring in anti-bullying programs, but the bullying still goes on. What gives any child the right to mistreat another child? To make fun of a child who isn’t as quick on the uptake. Who looks a little funny. Who talks a little weird. Who has some kind of disability. Do our children not recognize that the child in question is a human being, created in the image of God, who is loved by his or her family?
Go on the internet and find Steve Hartman “on the road” videos in which he profiles – among other things – sports teams who have embraced a special needs child who found an outlet as a mascot on the team. Of course our children (hopefully) have a different attitude when they go to a HASC or YACHAD program. But they understand that these kids (or adults) are “different.” But in a mainstream school, the idea that “if you can’t take the pressure (from other kids) get lost and stay there” can not fly.
Teachers are humans. They are not perfect. They have lots of kids in their classes. As much as every school claims to be able to provide differentiated instruction, teaching the “whole student” and gearing towards different methods of learning and comprehension, the fact is that schools which provide this are few and far between. And when children disrespect the humanity of the teacher, make fun of the teacher, or say or do things knowing that the teacher can not do anything about it, this is a moral failing in the upbringing of these children.
I remember saying as a child at the end of school years, “no more pencils no more books, no more teachers dirty looks” and “no more chimmesh no more mishnayis, no more rebbes with longeh payis.” I was just repeating what other kids said. But the idea that these chants would even make it around to our schools shows a simple disregard for people, and for the concept of learning in general.
I find it odd that any of us look at vacation days as “vacation from Judaism” days. Boys leave their tefillin in school – what do they do Sunday if there’s no school? I actually know one father who bought his son a second pair of tefillin – one to leave in school, and one to have at home for when school was off. It’s a solution, but it also demands little responsibility of the child.
A few parting thoughts.
First, the Seforno, which we’ll have to unfortunately reject. He says that you have to instruct your children “at the end of your life as you write in your will to your children all of these things, that they should observe to guard their souls, lest they become corrupt.” As we all know, if we only wait until the end of our lives to instruct our children, by that time they may be too far away or completely lost.
More poignantly, Midrash Tanaim suggests Moshe is saying, “Just as I give you credit for following the Torah following my example, you should be complimentary to your children for following the Torah after your example.”
Alshikh says, “This is in your nature, and it is for your benefit.”
Explaining Moshe’s thought process, he says
by Rabbi Avi Billet
“Pay close attention to all the words through which I warn you today, so that you will be able to instruct your children to keep all the words of this Torah carefully.” (32:46)In preparation for my Shabbos Shuva Drasha, I came across a fascinating article printed in Hakirah: The Flatbush Journal of Jewish Law and Thought, entitled “Is There a Disconnect between Torah Learning and Torah Living? And If So, How Can We Connect Them? A Focus on Middos” by Aharon Hersh Fried. Find it online. Read it. (http://www.hakirah.org/Vol%206%20Fried.pdf)
With that as a background, the statement Moshe makes about being able to instruct children is actually profound. We tend to focus on our own connection to Judaism, and leave our children’s connection to their Rebbeim and Morahs. But Moshe does not say here “Leave your children’s education in others’ hands!” He says it is YOUR job.
So now I’m going to be a bit blunt. But there’s no time like right after Yom Kippur to face some hard truths.
Schools can only do so much. They have a lot to cram into an overwhelmingly long day. They can’t focus on middos. They bring in anti-bullying programs, but the bullying still goes on. What gives any child the right to mistreat another child? To make fun of a child who isn’t as quick on the uptake. Who looks a little funny. Who talks a little weird. Who has some kind of disability. Do our children not recognize that the child in question is a human being, created in the image of God, who is loved by his or her family?
Go on the internet and find Steve Hartman “on the road” videos in which he profiles – among other things – sports teams who have embraced a special needs child who found an outlet as a mascot on the team. Of course our children (hopefully) have a different attitude when they go to a HASC or YACHAD program. But they understand that these kids (or adults) are “different.” But in a mainstream school, the idea that “if you can’t take the pressure (from other kids) get lost and stay there” can not fly.
Teachers are humans. They are not perfect. They have lots of kids in their classes. As much as every school claims to be able to provide differentiated instruction, teaching the “whole student” and gearing towards different methods of learning and comprehension, the fact is that schools which provide this are few and far between. And when children disrespect the humanity of the teacher, make fun of the teacher, or say or do things knowing that the teacher can not do anything about it, this is a moral failing in the upbringing of these children.
I remember saying as a child at the end of school years, “no more pencils no more books, no more teachers dirty looks” and “no more chimmesh no more mishnayis, no more rebbes with longeh payis.” I was just repeating what other kids said. But the idea that these chants would even make it around to our schools shows a simple disregard for people, and for the concept of learning in general.
I find it odd that any of us look at vacation days as “vacation from Judaism” days. Boys leave their tefillin in school – what do they do Sunday if there’s no school? I actually know one father who bought his son a second pair of tefillin – one to leave in school, and one to have at home for when school was off. It’s a solution, but it also demands little responsibility of the child.
A few parting thoughts.
First, the Seforno, which we’ll have to unfortunately reject. He says that you have to instruct your children “at the end of your life as you write in your will to your children all of these things, that they should observe to guard their souls, lest they become corrupt.” As we all know, if we only wait until the end of our lives to instruct our children, by that time they may be too far away or completely lost.
More poignantly, Midrash Tanaim suggests Moshe is saying, “Just as I give you credit for following the Torah following my example, you should be complimentary to your children for following the Torah after your example.”
Alshikh says, “This is in your nature, and it is for your benefit.”
Explaining Moshe’s thought process, he says
“Moshe wanted to give merits to the Israelites by giving them the chance to teach their children. Every Jewish person’s soul is naturally inclined to connect with God and His Torah, and as long as that connection remains the person can truly live. After telling the song of Haazinu to the people, much of which is negative and deflating visions of the future, Moshe felt the people needed a pick-me-up. So he spoke to them using a tone of love. Beginning with an image of rain falling, which causes grass to grow, then dew which helps the grass sustain itself without the rain, this is what the Torah is supposed to be for a person. Rain needs to be pounded in – the Torah needs to be pushed through the blood of the child, sometimes with real struggle – so that the grass can grow. Once the grass grows, the child can sustain him/herself with the tools that have sent it in the proper path and direction.“All this simply means, that with all the emphasis we claim to make on our commandments between Man and God and the relationships we are to have with our fellow man, there are conversations we should be having with our children on a regular basis. Here are some topics: why it’s wrong to steal; why being racist is a vile character trait; how we have to treat ALL people with respect, even if they’re different from us, and especially if they’re your siblings or parents (and how parents should treat their kids!); to greet everyone with a kind word and smiling countenance; to stand for the elderly under every circumstance; how to have empathy for others; how to stand up for the mistreated. Make your own list. It is our job – not to be pawned off to anyone. And the way we do all this is by modeling by example and practicing what we preach.
Thursday, October 6, 2016
Choosing the Relationship With God
Parshat Nitzavim
by Rabbi Avi Billet
There are at least two reasons why Parshat Nitzavim is read before Rosh Hashana. Firstly, it talks about Teshuvah (repentance) (Biur Halacha 428: “9 Av”), and secondly, it serves as a buffer between the Tokhacha (Rebuke) of Ki Tavo and Rosh Hashana (see also Biur Halacha there).
Simply consider how chapter 30 begins: after you will have experienced the blessings and curses (as discussed in last week’s Torah portion), you’ll think about what brought you to exile. You’ll then choose to return to God and the ways in which He commanded you. And after you return to Him, with your heart and soul, he will bring you back, gathering you from the nations of the world. (30:1-3)
Then Moshe tells the people that “Even if your diaspora is at the ends of the heavens, God will gather you up from there and He will take you back.” (30:4) This promise is followed by an additional promise of prosperity even greater than those who were there before you, as you will have the opportunity to get closer and closer to God. This will assure your survival.
The idea that the diaspora will go to the ends of the heavens is clearly not meant to be taken literally. Ibn Ezra says the edge of the heavens refer to the edges as seen from the land of Israel – in other words, the horizon. But it isn’t always true that the word “Shamayim” equals “sky” as a direct translation. So what is Moshe telling the people about what will happen in the future? Where will they be coming from when they are returning to God?
The Alshikh’s perspective on this set of verses may help us understand more clearly.
The return to God, he explains, will take place in the Babylonian exile. Of course it can only come after the realization of how and why the exile came about in the first place. The return will reflect the Shir Hamaalot we often sing before Birkat Hamazon “when God returns those who return to Zion” as happened in the time of Cyrus, the Persian king who allowed the Jews to return to build the second Temple.
However, since the repentance was not complete at that time, the Redemption was incomplete. And it will remain incomplete until the exile that took place at the time of the destruction of the Second Temple is gathered in.
All this is straightforward. And then Alshikh explains that the reason the exile isn’t completely over is because all of the repentance will have come about only out of fear. Real repentance must come out of love of God. This is why the segment ends with verse 6, “God will remove the barriers from your hearts and from the hearts of your descendants, so that you will love God your Lord with all your heart and soul.”
Perhaps now we can begin to understand what the diaspora being at the ends of the heavens means. When we think about the word “heaven” with reference to our relationship with God, the Hebrew phrase that comes to mind is “Yirat Shamayim” – fear of heaven. The Alshikh is telling us that the key to achieving a complete and final redemption does not come from a relationship with God grounded in fear, but rather in a relationship with God that is guided by love.
And what does the last verse of the parsha say is the goal for our people in “choosing life?” You have “to love God your Lord, to obey Him, and to attach yourself to Him.”
We are living in a time when the old method of “fear of God” is met with resistance, cynicism, and rejection. While there are Jewish communities that are strong and that seem successful in transmitting their vaiues to the next generation, the idea of fear of God doesn’t always sell. As well it shouldn’t.
Our goal is to foster and create a feeling that we are to love our God. Which shouldn’t be so hard, right? We do say it every day in the Shema!
And yet, it is an overwhelming challenge. Of course, love of God should lead to a “reverence” (better word than “fear”) of Heaven. But it is this limbo state of being between connecting with God through fear (having our diaspora spread as far as heaven goes), and having our love truly reach the heavens, in which we find ourselves.
It’s easy to “choose” to love God. It is much more of a challenge to actually demonstrate that love. Of course, as Rav Dessler has pointed out, love is about giving. Once upon a time we would give to God through offerings and sacrifices. Now we have to find other ways to give to God. If we could only be blessed to love God through the different ways in which we sacrifice and give to Him, perhaps we will be blessed to not just have some of the Jewish population of the world gathered again in Israel (as it is now), but we will see a Final Redemption, well deserved, in which all the Jewish people will feel at home in the Promised Land.
by Rabbi Avi Billet
There are at least two reasons why Parshat Nitzavim is read before Rosh Hashana. Firstly, it talks about Teshuvah (repentance) (Biur Halacha 428: “9 Av”), and secondly, it serves as a buffer between the Tokhacha (Rebuke) of Ki Tavo and Rosh Hashana (see also Biur Halacha there).
Simply consider how chapter 30 begins: after you will have experienced the blessings and curses (as discussed in last week’s Torah portion), you’ll think about what brought you to exile. You’ll then choose to return to God and the ways in which He commanded you. And after you return to Him, with your heart and soul, he will bring you back, gathering you from the nations of the world. (30:1-3)
Then Moshe tells the people that “Even if your diaspora is at the ends of the heavens, God will gather you up from there and He will take you back.” (30:4) This promise is followed by an additional promise of prosperity even greater than those who were there before you, as you will have the opportunity to get closer and closer to God. This will assure your survival.
The idea that the diaspora will go to the ends of the heavens is clearly not meant to be taken literally. Ibn Ezra says the edge of the heavens refer to the edges as seen from the land of Israel – in other words, the horizon. But it isn’t always true that the word “Shamayim” equals “sky” as a direct translation. So what is Moshe telling the people about what will happen in the future? Where will they be coming from when they are returning to God?
The Alshikh’s perspective on this set of verses may help us understand more clearly.
The return to God, he explains, will take place in the Babylonian exile. Of course it can only come after the realization of how and why the exile came about in the first place. The return will reflect the Shir Hamaalot we often sing before Birkat Hamazon “when God returns those who return to Zion” as happened in the time of Cyrus, the Persian king who allowed the Jews to return to build the second Temple.
However, since the repentance was not complete at that time, the Redemption was incomplete. And it will remain incomplete until the exile that took place at the time of the destruction of the Second Temple is gathered in.
All this is straightforward. And then Alshikh explains that the reason the exile isn’t completely over is because all of the repentance will have come about only out of fear. Real repentance must come out of love of God. This is why the segment ends with verse 6, “God will remove the barriers from your hearts and from the hearts of your descendants, so that you will love God your Lord with all your heart and soul.”
Perhaps now we can begin to understand what the diaspora being at the ends of the heavens means. When we think about the word “heaven” with reference to our relationship with God, the Hebrew phrase that comes to mind is “Yirat Shamayim” – fear of heaven. The Alshikh is telling us that the key to achieving a complete and final redemption does not come from a relationship with God grounded in fear, but rather in a relationship with God that is guided by love.
And what does the last verse of the parsha say is the goal for our people in “choosing life?” You have “to love God your Lord, to obey Him, and to attach yourself to Him.”
We are living in a time when the old method of “fear of God” is met with resistance, cynicism, and rejection. While there are Jewish communities that are strong and that seem successful in transmitting their vaiues to the next generation, the idea of fear of God doesn’t always sell. As well it shouldn’t.
Our goal is to foster and create a feeling that we are to love our God. Which shouldn’t be so hard, right? We do say it every day in the Shema!
And yet, it is an overwhelming challenge. Of course, love of God should lead to a “reverence” (better word than “fear”) of Heaven. But it is this limbo state of being between connecting with God through fear (having our diaspora spread as far as heaven goes), and having our love truly reach the heavens, in which we find ourselves.
It’s easy to “choose” to love God. It is much more of a challenge to actually demonstrate that love. Of course, as Rav Dessler has pointed out, love is about giving. Once upon a time we would give to God through offerings and sacrifices. Now we have to find other ways to give to God. If we could only be blessed to love God through the different ways in which we sacrifice and give to Him, perhaps we will be blessed to not just have some of the Jewish population of the world gathered again in Israel (as it is now), but we will see a Final Redemption, well deserved, in which all the Jewish people will feel at home in the Promised Land.
Post Rosh Hashana - Is There a Plan For the Future?
Some of the following was part of my sermon on the first day of Rosh Hashana. Perhaps I'll post some of my "Shabbos Shuva Drasha" later.
Shabbos Shuva
by Rabbi Avi Billet
Though Rosh Hashana was Monday and Tuesday, it never hurts to look back on what we saw.
The Torah reading of the first day of Rosh Hashana begins at the point when Sarah is remembered. The Talmud tells us in several places that Sarah and Rachel and Chana were all remembered on Rosh Hashana. In the same breath, the Talmud tells us in Meseches Rosh Hashana that Yitzchak was born at Pesach time.
These dates, of course, are 6.5 months apart. So, barring any information coming to light that Yitzchak was born 3 months premature, we have a problem.
It is possible that he was a preemie. Moshe may have been 3 months premature as evidenced in how long his mother was able to hide him. But wouldn’t the Torah have told us if something were out of the ordinary (beyond that his parents were 100 and 90)?
It is also possible that Sarah only noticed her pregnancy at the end of trimester I because she hadn’t been menstruating anyway. Perhaps in this light she felt remembered at that specific time – on Rosh Hashana. And six months later, Yitzchak was born.
Is this really why we read this portion on Rosh Hashana? In all seriousness, there are other tales of Avraham’s and Sarah’s life which are so much more impressive.
I would suggest that for Avraham and Sarah, the birth of Yitzchak turned them into people with a new sense of purpose. They were now parents. They had so much more to live for than at any other time in their lives.
In Vayikra Rabba 29:12, we are told that on Rosh Hashana everyone is viewed as a new creature. New creations. With a new slate. Perhaps, with a new lease on life.
From Avraham’s and Sarah’s perspective, therefore, this reading is perfect for this day and this time period. Because what any individual has been through during the year no longer matters. What does matter is the current situation, in which a new book is being opened, and how do we see ourselves on that opening page?
Avraham and Sarah had been “old.” Now they were a young couple with a baby. She becomes like a tiger-mom, showing that no one will take advantage of her child.
There is one more piece to the puzzle that helps us understand the Rosh Hashana/new beginnings nature of this Torah portion. And that is the end of Bereshit 21, when Avimelekh appears to make a treaty. He says, “Swear to me here by God that you will not deal falsely with me, with my children, or with my grandchildren. Show to me and the land where you were an immigrant the same kindness that I have shown to you.”
Why would he think otherwise? Because his reality has also changed. Up until now, Avimelekh assumed that when Avraham died, his belongings would go to society. After all, if you have no heir, you can’t take it with you.
But now that Yitzchak has been born and Avraham has an apparent heir, Avimelekh’s destiny has changed as well. And so he realizes that a treaty is the only way he can secure the safety of his descendants.
And for us, the question is, where does our new reality lead us?
Are we adequately prepared for what is coming? Some changes are amazing! Some changes are devastating. Do we have a plan for the best, and for the worst?
In this coming year, many people will turn bar mitzvah and bat mitzvah. Do they know what kind of commitment and responsibility comes with coming of age?
Many people will get engaged and married. Do they know that the life to be lived after the wedding requires much more preparation and planning than does the wedding itself?
Many people will finish school. Do they know what they’re going to do with their degrees? How they’ll earn a living? Do they know that it is OK to pursue a trade (plumber, electrician) – as long as they’re doing something to earn a living?
Some people will get divorced. Is there a plan for how to make such a very difficult decision least difficult for everyone involved? If there are children, is there a plan for them? Has a pre-nup or post-nup agreement been signed, to assure the timely deliverance of a “get”?
Some people will die this year. Are burial plots already purchased? Have pre-need funeral arrangements been made? Does each spouse have the tools and abilities to function alone, or will the death of one inevitably lead to the death of the other (in one form or another)?
Some people will suffer injuries, car accidents, etc. Are there plans in place – health insurance, disability insurance, life insurance?
We never want to think things are out of our control. And hopefully the life changes that come our way are in the positive side of the equation. But we learn from Sarah and Avraham – remembered on Rosh Hashana – that all kinds of changes can happen. How we choose to operate when those changes come will make all the difference in how our lives will turn out in the coming year.
Shabbos Shuva
by Rabbi Avi Billet
Though Rosh Hashana was Monday and Tuesday, it never hurts to look back on what we saw.
The Torah reading of the first day of Rosh Hashana begins at the point when Sarah is remembered. The Talmud tells us in several places that Sarah and Rachel and Chana were all remembered on Rosh Hashana. In the same breath, the Talmud tells us in Meseches Rosh Hashana that Yitzchak was born at Pesach time.
These dates, of course, are 6.5 months apart. So, barring any information coming to light that Yitzchak was born 3 months premature, we have a problem.
It is possible that he was a preemie. Moshe may have been 3 months premature as evidenced in how long his mother was able to hide him. But wouldn’t the Torah have told us if something were out of the ordinary (beyond that his parents were 100 and 90)?
It is also possible that Sarah only noticed her pregnancy at the end of trimester I because she hadn’t been menstruating anyway. Perhaps in this light she felt remembered at that specific time – on Rosh Hashana. And six months later, Yitzchak was born.
Is this really why we read this portion on Rosh Hashana? In all seriousness, there are other tales of Avraham’s and Sarah’s life which are so much more impressive.
I would suggest that for Avraham and Sarah, the birth of Yitzchak turned them into people with a new sense of purpose. They were now parents. They had so much more to live for than at any other time in their lives.
In Vayikra Rabba 29:12, we are told that on Rosh Hashana everyone is viewed as a new creature. New creations. With a new slate. Perhaps, with a new lease on life.
From Avraham’s and Sarah’s perspective, therefore, this reading is perfect for this day and this time period. Because what any individual has been through during the year no longer matters. What does matter is the current situation, in which a new book is being opened, and how do we see ourselves on that opening page?
Avraham and Sarah had been “old.” Now they were a young couple with a baby. She becomes like a tiger-mom, showing that no one will take advantage of her child.
There is one more piece to the puzzle that helps us understand the Rosh Hashana/new beginnings nature of this Torah portion. And that is the end of Bereshit 21, when Avimelekh appears to make a treaty. He says, “Swear to me here by God that you will not deal falsely with me, with my children, or with my grandchildren. Show to me and the land where you were an immigrant the same kindness that I have shown to you.”
Why would he think otherwise? Because his reality has also changed. Up until now, Avimelekh assumed that when Avraham died, his belongings would go to society. After all, if you have no heir, you can’t take it with you.
But now that Yitzchak has been born and Avraham has an apparent heir, Avimelekh’s destiny has changed as well. And so he realizes that a treaty is the only way he can secure the safety of his descendants.
And for us, the question is, where does our new reality lead us?
Are we adequately prepared for what is coming? Some changes are amazing! Some changes are devastating. Do we have a plan for the best, and for the worst?
In this coming year, many people will turn bar mitzvah and bat mitzvah. Do they know what kind of commitment and responsibility comes with coming of age?
Many people will get engaged and married. Do they know that the life to be lived after the wedding requires much more preparation and planning than does the wedding itself?
Many people will finish school. Do they know what they’re going to do with their degrees? How they’ll earn a living? Do they know that it is OK to pursue a trade (plumber, electrician) – as long as they’re doing something to earn a living?
Some people will get divorced. Is there a plan for how to make such a very difficult decision least difficult for everyone involved? If there are children, is there a plan for them? Has a pre-nup or post-nup agreement been signed, to assure the timely deliverance of a “get”?
Some people will die this year. Are burial plots already purchased? Have pre-need funeral arrangements been made? Does each spouse have the tools and abilities to function alone, or will the death of one inevitably lead to the death of the other (in one form or another)?
Some people will suffer injuries, car accidents, etc. Are there plans in place – health insurance, disability insurance, life insurance?
We never want to think things are out of our control. And hopefully the life changes that come our way are in the positive side of the equation. But we learn from Sarah and Avraham – remembered on Rosh Hashana – that all kinds of changes can happen. How we choose to operate when those changes come will make all the difference in how our lives will turn out in the coming year.
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