People Evolve: Growing Into A Relationship

Parshat Vayera

by Rabbi Avi Billet

I am currently teaching a weekly parsha class using the commentary of Rabbi Yaakov Tzvi Mecklenberg, Ha’ktav v’hakabbalah. As it doesn’t appear in a classic Chumash, it is less known outside of Chumash scholarship – but the perspective he brings is fascinating and worth the effort of finding the text – available for free at Hebrewbooks.org – and studying at length.

Yiddish speakers will enjoy an additional perk, as he explains some concepts in finer detail with Yiddish expressions.

In Lech Lecha, he noted that the encounter in Egypt, when Sarah was taken by Pharaoh, ended with Pharaoh sending them out of Egypt, with the Torah describing their departure as accompanied by great wealth. Rabbi Mecklenberg explains, noting the word “Vayhi lo” (and he had) rather than “Vayiten lo” (that Pharaoh gave him) the wealth as an indication that Avraham and Sarah left Egypt with the wealth they had brought down to Egypt. Comparing Pharaoh’s evil designs against Sarah to the King of Sodom’s nefarious plans, and how Avraham rejected gifts from the latter to avoid his laying claim of making Avraham wealthy, Rabbi Mecklenberg makes the bold claim that Pharaoh did not actually give Avraham any parting gifts – Avraham wouldn’t have accepted them anyway. Pharaoh just let Avraham keep whatever he had brought down to Egypt.

In his lengthy analysis on their descent, Rabbi Mecklenburg makes another bold claim that Avraham and Sarah’s marriage was designed following Noachide rules. In those pre-Torah days, as Maimonides points out in his Laws of Marriage, all that was needed for a union to be recognized as a marriage was for a man and woman to agree to live together, consummate their union, and they’re married. Divorce was accomplished through their mutual agreement that the relationship was over. And the idea of remarrying the same person was not problematic, contrary to the verse in the Torah which forbids a re-union if the woman was with a different man in the interim. (Devarim 24:4)

As a Noachide-law marriage, knowing she would be abducted in any case, the goal of telling others they are siblings (in the same manner that Avraham and Lot were “brothers” – Sarah was Lot’s sister) was meant to share the relationship that was OK for the foreign nations to know of in a truthful manner, while not acknowledging a different relationship of marriage which, for a short time, actually ended!

With all of this as a background, it is interesting that Ha’ktav V’hakbbalah doesn’t make similar claims regarding Avimelekh in Chapter 20. Of course it is much harder to make a claim that Avimelekh did not give them anything, as the verse even says (20:14) “Avimelekh took sheep, cattle, and male and female slaves, and he gave [them] to Avraham. He [also] returned [Avraham's] wife Sarah to him.”

In 20:11-13 Avraham essentially explains why claiming Sarah as his sister is actually the truth, confirming the idea of Noachide marriage (and divorce) for us.

Rabbi Mecklenburg does not address the gift-giving at all. Perhaps it is already clear at this point that Avraham is wealthy. Perhaps Avimelekh’s character (flaws as it is) is a little more savory than Pharaoh and King of Sodom, allowing Avraham to be comfortable receiving these gifts. But one gift stands out, in 20:16, when Avimelekh says “I am giving your 'brother' a thousand pieces of silver. Let it be compensation for you.” (Living Torah translation)

The words “Ksut einayim” which Rabbi Kaplan translated as “compensation” are, as Rabbi Kaplan notes in his commentary

“A difficult idiom, literally translated as 'an eye covering.' Thus, 'something to prevent you from seeing any more evil' (cf. Ibn Ezra; Rashi). Others interpret it as a vindication, something that will cover other people's eyes and prevent them from seeing wrong (Rashbam). Another interpretation is that '[the money] will cover people's eyes and prevent them from looking at you wantonly' (Ramban). Other commentators take it literally, as a veil to show that Sarah was a properly married woman (HaKethav VeHaKabbalah). Still other sources translate eynayim as 'colors' rather than 'eyes,' and render the phrase, 'let [the money] be used to buy you a colorful cloak' (Radak). Finally, some make the subject of the phrase Abraham: '[Abraham] shall be for you as an eye-covering,' however the latter expression is translated (Ibn Ezra).” 

While Rabbi Kaplan was clearly aware of the K’tav V’Hakabbalah, in his miniscule reference here he doesn’t do justice to the length of the exposition on this verse. Making references to Middle Eastern cultures which routinely had women covering their faces, to preserve their beauty for their husbands (culturally a different outlook than that of the West), Rabbi Mecklenburg wonders about how Avraham and Sarah went about preserving or rejecting the face-covering custom. Moreso, he talks about how Avraham is the “eye covering,” protecting her and others from sinning due to her beauty.

Regarding the money, Rabbi Mecklenburg argues that it wasn’t really given, that Avimelekh had intended to give it to Avraham as a gift for the fine bride Avimelekh had taken from her brother. But that never came about, so the dowry was never given.

Like everyone, Avraham and Sarah evolved. They grew into their relationship, how they dealt with outsiders, and developed a trust of one another that, to a certain degree, is beyond our comprehension. How would any of us deal with a potentate who takes women at his will, and kills husbands to unchain the women (let the irony of justifying murder to avoid adultery not go unnoticed)?

Hopefully these are not challenges we come face to face with. But may all marriages be blessed to be built on understanding and trust, so challenges and hurdles can be overcome together, and not a cause for making a marriage fall apart.

Lot's Tarnished Legacy - And How to Avoid It

Parshat Lekh Lekha

by Rabbi Avi Billet

After returning from their adventures in Egypt, we are told that Avram, his wife, all who were with him, and Lot returned from Egypt and settled between Beit El and Ai, in the place where he had previously built an altar to God.

We are told about his wealth, as defined by the masses of animals he owned. And we are similarly told of Lot’s animal-wealth, both of which, combined, created an untenable situation, in which all of the animals simply could not share the same area.

Grounded in an idea put forth in the Midrash, most of the commentaries agree that the wealth Lot had acquired was through Avram’s merit – the ‘zchut’ of Avram. They don’t say Avram gave him his possessions, or that he didn’t build that wealth himself. They do say that his achievements were as successful as they were because of who his uncle was.

The major problem with Lot, Malbim explains, is that despite this being quite clear, Lot did not acknowledge this reality, or the gratitude he should have displayed towards his uncle.

This might help us understand why years later, a nation descending from Lot could go so far as to try to curse Israel – Moav were the ones who sent emissaries to hire Bilaam in Bamidbar 22. And thus the prophets Micha, Yechezkel, Zephaniah all cursed Amon and Moav to disappear in the future – which they have. Neither Moav or Amon continue to exist in our time.

Despite all this, Avram remains magnanimous and offers Lot to choose where to live. “If you leave, I’ll stay, and if you stay I’ll leave.”

While it’s true that Avram’s magnanimity carries the day, why couldn’t he just expand his borders? Because Avraham knew something – that Lot was growing apart from him.

Malbim continues, explaining that their differences in approach to life created a rift. Not so much between them personally, but, as Chazal noted, Lot’s shepherds were not careful about where they’d have Lot’s animals graze.

This explains why the verse in 13:7 notes that the Canaanites and Perizites lived in the land – like proximally close neighbors, they were able to hear the arguments between Avram and Lot, and their being nearby also caused a tremendous amount of anguish and embarrassment to Avram, for the tarnishing of his stellar, honest reputation, caused by the unscrupulous shepherds of his nephew.

The presence of the Canaanites and Perizites is indicative of another problem Avram faced. These were nations that were distantly related, and yet they seemed to get along. Avram’s argument to his nephew was “if they can get along, we should certainly get along, as we are essentially brothers” (Lot’s father was Avram’s brother).

And despite all this surface tension, Avram’s offer is “you decide where to go, and whatever you decide will determine where I go – whether to the right or the left.” Avram was not abandoning his nephew. He was saying, “I’ll be right near you! If you need me, we’ll always be neighbors!” But Lot’s choice to go towards Sodom was the last straw – not in Avram’s perception of their relationship, but in Lot’s efforts to become his own man, cutting off ties completely from the source of the merit which allowed him to flourish. “And Lot chose the entire Jordan valley, and Lot traveled east. And they separated, the man from his brother.”

It is true that Lot carries with him some traits he picked up in Avram’s home. When the angels arrive in Sodom in chapter 19, Lot is the only one to greet them, he invites them to his home, and he even insists they spend the night. This approach to treating guests comes directly from Avram’s playbook – so the influence is clearly there.

But I think what is also clear is that the three most important lessons Avram wanted Lot to walk away with were completely lost on him.

The first: gratitude to those who helped you.

The second: honesty in dealing with others.

The third: never forgetting God.

Avraham’s generosity of spirit helped Lot become wealthy. It also gave Lot the chance to choose to be a neighbor with Avraham, so the well of life lessons and emotional support would never run dry. Lot was ungrateful and shunned the need for that lifeline. See how his children grew up, as a result, in the city of Sodom, and what became of his only known descendants – the nations of Amon and Moav. Not a very impressive lot (pardon the pun).

Lot let his shepherds run wild in their dishonesty. The need to resort to trickery or cheating for personal gain became the formula utilized by Balak (King of Moav) in hiring Bilaam to curse the Jewish people, and of course in sending the women who enticed the Israelite men, ultimately causing the deaths of 24,000 people. What a legacy.

While Avraham called out to God at every turn and opportunity, Lot chose to move to a place where the people were “evil and sinners towards God, in abundance.” (13:13)

It’s a very simple lesson – the way to not turn out like Lot and his failed family requires a few important traits to be placed on a pedestal.

Work hard and never forget your roots, expressing gratitude to mentors and those who gave guidance along the way. Be honest at every turn, without resorting to tricks and shtick to achieve dishonest goals. And never forget or neglect God, whose presence keeps us grounded, and whose morals guide us to be the best people we can be.

Why Flood Waters are Credited to Noach

Parshat Noach

by Rabbi Avi Billet

The verse in Yeshayahu 54:9 twice contains a curious phrase. “For this is to Me [as] the waters of Noach, as I swore that the waters of Noach shall never again pass over the earth, so have I sworn neither to be wroth with you nor to rebuke you.”

Waters of Noach?

Read through the Torah portion and it becomes very clear that the waters come from the heavens, in other words, they are more accurately “God’s waters.” God told Noach He was going to send the flood and destroy the world. If anything “belongs” to Noach, it is the ark that he took many decades to build. How are the waters his?

In his book “Me’otzarot Bereishit,” Rabbi Yeshayahu Maleyeff raises a popular comparison that is made between Avraham and Noach, as he turns it on its head.

Rashi famously compares Avraham and Noach noting two opinions: either that Noach was righteous only in his generation, but had he lived in Avraham’s time he’d have been nothing special, or that Noach was an extremely righteous man, no matter which time period he might have found himself.

One major difference between Avraham and Noach is that when confronted with the proposition that there was to be a destruction, Avraham prayed on behalf of Sodom, while Noach said nothing on behalf of the people of his era, simply going about his business.

Rabbi Maleyeff says it’s an unfair argument! Noach was told by God, “The end of humanity is before Me… I’m going to destroy the earth.” (6:13) Avraham was told, “The cries of Sodom have reached Me… I’m going to descend to see what’s going on…” (18:20-21)

What’s the difference? Before I give you the answer, I’ll give another example. Moshe is told, “Leave Me, so My wrath can flare up against them and I will destroy them.” (Shmot 32:10) Similarly, in the aftermath of the Korach story, as God begins to send a plague to kill those complaining about what had just transpired, He says to Moshe and Aharon, “Get away from this rabble so I may destroy them in an instant.”

The difference is that in Noach’s case, he was essentially told “This is going to happen and there’s nothing you can do about it.” In Avraham’s case, and in Moshe’s case, the pending destruction wasn’t clearly going to happen. Sodom needed to be examined. Twice it seems that the destruction facing the people was conditioned on Moshe leaving the space he was occupying. Such a concept is certainly unnecessary – meaning, if God wants to destroy and wants to spare Moshe, He could certainly make that happen without Moshe moving. So if Moshe needed to move, it is clear that God was opening the door for a prayer or objection to take place.

But in Noach’s case, the door doesn’t seem to be open to an objection.

Rabbi Meleyeff points out that Chizkiyahu, the king, was told by the prophet Yeshayahu “Put your house in order, because you are going to die.” (Kings II 20:1, Yeshayahu 38:1) Yet he was able to repent, and he lived another 15 years!

Along similar lines, we have the tale of Yonah whose prophesy to Nineveh was pretty definite: “Another 40 days and Nineveh will be overturned!” There doesn’t seem to be a way out. But, as we all know, the Ninevites changed their ways, and the decree was overturned.

And this is why the waters are ascribed to Noach. Because while it’s true that a definite pronouncement of a decree doesn’t seem to be open for discussion, there is a difference between whether Noach personally, or, better, the people it actually affected, could do anything about it. The Nineveh example is great because it demonstrates the truth that there was nothing that Yonah could do for the Ninevites, but in informing them of the pending doom, they could change their own destiny. Chizkyahu was essentially told by the prophet "As far as I'm concerned you're a lost cause. But as far as you're concerned, it might be in your power to change something."

Building an Ark is not enough – Noach needed to do more to teach his generation of the danger of the pending “unconditional” doom. Not that his prayers on their behalf would have been enough… I think that element was out of his hands. But it was not out of the hands of those who were to be directly impacted by the flood. As a result, the flood waters are ascribed to Noach, because he did nothing – to the extent that he could have had influence – to help people stay the waters of the flood. In contrast, Yonah was successful in inspiring the Ninevites to take their destiny into their own hand.

In that sense, he remains at fault. Even when things seem definite or destined to be, those most directly impacted have the power to shift their destiny. I’m not saying it’s easy – sometimes it is exceedingly difficult.

What is life worth, if we can’t use our strengths for a purpose and to put ourselves in the driver’s seat to bring us to our goals?

Sukkos: The Jewish Thanksgiving

Sukkos

by Rabbi Avi Billet

The holiday of Thanksgiving in the United States of America is classically observed as a celebration of God's bounty.

It is for the same reason, according to Ramban, that the Torah tells us to have Simcha, joy, during this holiday of Sukkos. The Torah reading on Sukkos includes three different words thar command celebration and joy. In Devarim, the word Simcha is used multiple times with relation to the holiday. 

How does a person rejoice? Over what? That water is coming back? Is it really possible to dance so much with a lulav and esrog? With a Torah? It depends on why we are celebrating, and how in tune we are to that cause of celebration.

Many years ago, Rabbi Aharon Lichtenstein wrote an article, “The Source of Faith Is Faith Itself.” It seems, according to Ramban, that we can say the same thing about the joy of Sukkos. As Ramban puts it as he explains all the hyperboles for joy and rejoicing, “You’re going to celebrate your Chag, on account of the Lulav, the Simcha, and the Sukkah.”

Could it be that – to use Rav Lichtenstein’s formulation – that the source of Joy is Joy Itself?

What is the Simcha of the sukkah? Utilizing the verse that says, "all citizens of Israel should dwell in the sukkah booths," Ramban suggests the sharing of that space is something which will further unite the Jewish people.

On the agricultural side, Chizkuni points to the differences between Pesach and Shavuos on the one hand, and Sukkos on the other hand – for both pesach and Shavuos, the gathering in Jerusalem is tainted because people were concerned for their spring and summertime harvests which were incomplete when the holiday rolled around. But the Autumn harvest was complete – everything was brought in Sukkos time, which is why people could leave their homes joyfully, knowing their agricultural responsibilities for the season were over on the one hand, while appreciating God’s bounty on the other hand.

Other reasons for the Simcha of this holiday, as advanced by Daat Zekenim, include that fruits are only gathered Sukkos time, but not at Pesach and Shavuos when the harvest is only grain. Also, since we have a clean slate on account of Yom Kippur having taken place just a few days ago, we have another reason to rejoice in this holiday.

To quote Daat Zekenim, "all you have to do is involve yourself with joy."

What were the pieces of the holiday that caused joy? To summarize:

Ramban: Lulav, Simcha, and Sukkah.
Ramban #2: Since all citizens of Israel use sukkot, we will be definition share each other’s company
Chizkuni: A complete harvest which translates to hard work is over + appreciation of God’s bounty.
Daas Zekenim: Fruits are gathered at this time, a fresh slate after Yom Kippur

It’s an amazing idea, if we think about it. We have a commandment to be happy. To rejoice. It means that we have the opportunity to fulfill a mitzvah in the Torah if we can simply smile.

We don’t live in an agricultural society – here fruit grows in supermarkets – but along similar lines, we can appreciate God’s bounty nonetheless. Living in places where there is so much abundance year-round is a blessing which we tend to lose sight of, but the holiday can serve as a reminder for how grateful we ought to be.

This is in addition to the Daat Zekenim who reminded us of the Simcha of a fresh slate after Yom Kippur. Each person can hopefully rejoice in that fresh slate on a personal level.

So we have much to be thankful for – this is our Jewish Thanksgiving – and we have much to celebrate. So let us put on our smiles, enjoy each other’s company, enjoy the sukkah, enjoy yom tov, enjoy our clean slate. And fulfill our many mitzvahs of celebration and rejoicing in our own sukkahs, in one another's sukkahs, and with our God.

A Haunting Kol Nidrei

Yom Kippur

by Rabbi Avi Billet

Rabbi Yissachar Shlomo Teichtel (author of Eim Habanim Semeichah) described a Kol Nidrei during the Holocaust, Yom Kippur 1942. He was in Hungary at the time, from where mass deportations wouldn’t begin until 1944, gathered with many others, to one of the only synagogues still functioning in that terrible time. The following is my translation of what appears in Mishneh Sachir, Yom Kippur 5703.

  I am recalling and transcribing in order not to forget what I saw and heard that Yom Kippur. A sight I had never seen before in my life. A vision that was awesome and dreadful, that Yom Kippur night.
  The rabbi came into shul, completely bent over. Bent over from the dread of judgment. But even more contributed to his being hunched over – the pain of our generation. The rabbis who were there told me he was bent over double the way he normally was, carrying both the fear of judgment with the pain the nation of Israel was going through. He was literally bent over to the ground.
  This is how he walked and stepped up to the holy Ark, and began crying out “Shir hamaalos Mimaakim Karasicha Hashem – from the deepest depth of pain reflecting our situation now, we CRY OUT TO YOU!”
  And he began to enumerate the terrible things that had befallen them. “Where are my brothers? I’m missing my balabatim (congregants)!” And he started to name them! “Where is this one? And this one? Last year he was here. We were ALL here together. And more and more and more – it’s impossible to recount everyone. Where is each one now?”
  And then he added: “Fathers who are here now are asking ‘where are our sons who were here last year?’ Sons are asking, ‘Where are our fathers who dedicated their souls to raising us, and who have now been stolen from us? Where are they?’
  “The husband asks about his wife, and the wife asks about her husband. Where is she? Where is he?
  Small children who were stolen from their mother’s embrace, whose parents know nothing of their whereabouts.” He enumerated the multiple tragic stories that have affected families among us.
  And then there was a tremendous emotional outcry, the likes I had NEVER BEFORE SEEN IN MY LIFE. Throughout the synagogue, men and women were crying, in a loud voice, screams which almost caused people to faint. Children six years old and younger were also crying in a loud voice – almost like a stone wall was crying with us without stopping.
  The rabbi continued, “Avinu Malkeinu – Our Father in Heaven – asei l’maan – do it for the children who study! Hear the simple cries of innocent children, over whom the Satan has no prosecutorial argument. See how they have been exiled in this most difficult way, from their mothers.
  “Avinu Malkeinu – Our Father in Heaven – asei l’maan – do it for those who have been murdered over Your Holy Name! How many of Acheinu Bnei Yisrael (our Jewish brothers and sisters) have been killed by the hands of the cursed ones, even though they had done NOTHING to deserve this fate!
  “Avinu Malkeinu – Our Father in Heaven – have mercy upon us and our children…
Through all of this expounding on the Avinu Malkeinus, the crying never stopped – the great sound of everyone’s voice, the broken hearts from every corner, both from the men section and the women section.
  I do not have the ability to describe this awesome sight which I saw in this synagogue – the only one in the country, where a large number of people gathered, bli ayin hara, and Hashem should add for us 1000 times this number. As the blessing of Moshe says, “The Lord your God should heap upon you a thousand fold…”
  In the whole country, many communities have already been destroyed, to the point that many did not even have a minyan in these Holy Days. And in my community of Pishtian, which had close to 500 Jewish families, since the expulsion from there from the Pesach through Rosh Hashana, there are only 3 families left. No minyan at all. There is only a minyan where I am now because the rabbi here is a tremendous tsaddik, the Chief Rabbi, and in his merit, people came from all over the country to benefit from his shade.
  We are very grateful to the wonderful Baalei Batim, important, wealthy, influential, God-fearing men who were able to impress upon the officials of the city not to bring about the decrees of the country to this place in the manner that has befallen other communities. That is the main reason why this congregation is still here. Although even from here around 4000 souls have been deported. But 1000 people still remain here, and God should save them from the terrible decree. And they should remain here until God will bring a great salvation soon. Many who have become refugees from their cities are here as well, such as myself and my family, and that is why there is a large contingent here.” 

This concludes Rabbi Teichtel’s recounting of that tragic Yom Kippur. The rest of the story is well-known, as Hungarian Jewry was largely wiped out in the summer of 1944, including Rabbi Teichtel.

Let us allow the depth of the seriousness of that Yom Kippur to inspire us to tap into what kind of day Yom Kippur ought to be.

Shana tova to all.

Why Bad Things Happen… An approach to understanding life’s challenges

Rosh Hashana Sermon 

One of the more timeless questions of Theodicy is why bad things happen to good people. Rabbi Harold Kushner wrote a whole book using that title, and the question is addressed in great books, such as Iyov, the Zohar, and the Talmud (Brachos) places the question in the mouth of Moshe Rabbenu.

One can argue it is the central theme of today’s Torah reading, in that Avraham is given the instruction to take his most precious possession, his son Yitzchak, and go to a mountain where he is to bring Yitzchak as some kind of offering or sacrifice.

In Rabbi Soloveitchik’s analysis of Avraham’s experience, there isn’t a whole lot of depth in the thought process. He says that as soon as God ordered Avraham to sacrifice Yitzchak, the sacrifice was implemented in the depths of his heart. To him, Yitzchak was surrendered right away. He was already dead. Going to the mountain was a fait accompli because Yitzchak was already gone – all that was needed was a substitute sacrifice, which he ended up offering in the form of a ram, but the young man himself no longer existed.

In his inimitable dramatic fashion, Rabbi Soloveitchik paints the image of what Avraham is going to look like on his way back from the Akedah. “We can imagine Abraham’s desolation and loneliness. He knew that on the way back there would be no Isaac. He knew this was the last journey with Isaac. In a matter of days, Isaac would be gone and Avraham would travel alone. There would be no more companionship, no more young child in the house, no more laughter, no more enjoyment, no more joy.

And then God asked for a substitute. And God’s name changed from Elokim, the god of Judgment, to Hashem, the God of Mercy.

Rabbi Soloveitchik notes that Avraham was a yerei Elokim, one who fears Elokim, when his relationship with God was one of strict justice, of total surrender, when God wanted him to give away the best he had. It is easy to be a yerei hashem when God treats you with love, charity, and kindness, when he bestows grace and benevolence upon you like a father treats his son. But to be yerei Elokim when God applies middat hadin, the measure of justice, when you have to surrender everything and to thank Him for hardships, is very difficult.

In 1973, in the wake of the Yom Kippur war, Rav Aharon Lichtenstein delivered an address to senior educators in Israel on the topic of trust in God. After the lecture, he was asked several questions, one which was “How do you explain the concept of yissurin shel ahavah – that God gives chastisements of love?”

The question, was a follow up to a specific point RAL had raised, addressing lessons to be taken from the YK War, and how to relate to the terrible losses. While one never has an answer, and RAL was not the kind of person to utter a sentence such as “This tragedy happened because” or “This suffering happened in order that…” he was not averse to reflecting on the kinds of lessons Chazal might have taken from the difficult time that was the YK War. And in that context he noted that such a concept exists – that Bad Things Happen to Good People – and there is a reason for it. And he was asked to elaborate further.

One view, that of Rabbi Yehuda Loew of Prague, is that Yissurin Shel Ahava is a form of punishment. RAL was of the view, that Yissurin Shel Ahavah is a form of suffering that come to purify a person. Certainly there are people who are broken by suffering. But RAL argued, there are people who can be purified by it. One does not know how one will perform under the duress of suffering, until the difficult time takes place.

To the point – which is relevant here today – RAL noted, “What was accomplished by the Akedah?” And the answer… the Akedah is a creative act that stands by itself. Avraham after the Akedah is not the same Avraham as before the Akedah, because the experience of suffering purified him.

RAL’s message was this. We do not, in our Jewish experience, revel in suffering. But when it occurs, it is essential to turn it into a force for self-rehabilitation and growth. Then it can become chastisements of love – yissurin shel ahavah – which can creatively build the person’s soul and enhance his or her spiritual development.

Arguably, the most important elements of the Akedah narrative is the 3-day journey that Avraham took to get to the mountain. The rabbis focus heavily on the spiritual grapplings he went through. Trying to understand the inherent contradiction in fulfilling God’s commandment while knowing that murder is wrong. It’s that 3-day struggle that brought him to the conclusion that God’s will must be followed. And of course, it was that same conclusion which allowed for God’s command to be countered only by a different command to not touch the lad.

Most fascinating to me is the depiction of Avraham pre-Akedah vs. Avraham post-Akedah as not being the same person.

When I was trying to conjure up such an image, the thought that came to my mind was Charlton Heston emerging from the Burning Bush in “The Ten Commandments.”

Before

After

His face glows, his hair has assumed a grayness and authority that was not present before, and he has clearly BECOME – MOSES, the leader, the deliverer, the one who is ready to face Pharaoh in order to free the Hebrew slaves. One experience, and he is a changed man.

Heston actually wrote an article about how he “met Moses 3 times.” Without getting into the details, he describes his own struggles walking on the mountain near Egypt which the filmmakers were told was Mt. Sinai, and his struggles when playing the scene when Moses is exiled into the desert, at the mercy of the elements. In both cases Heston imagined Moses as a regular human being. Plagued by a lack of clarity, uncertain about his faith in God, unsure of where he is going, and going through the struggle of contending with nature.

And the last time he “met” Moses was when he came out to film the Exodus scene. He was in costume and makeup, and knew there were 7,000 Egyptian “extras” there. 7,000 people, to him, were as far as the eye could see. Lending us to wonder what 600,000 or 3 million people might have looked like to the real Moshe.

These people had trusted Moses, they had followed where he led—and where had he led them? Into this waterless desert? Into this unspeakable wilderness?

  I turned and looked back at the sea of old men, half-starved women, tiny children. Moses could not have led them into this desert!
  Not the Moses I had seen—not the man who had crawled on his knees through this very wasteland. Not the man who had struggled, panting and terrified, up the slopes of Mt. Sinai; that man was capable of doubt. Could he now walk into this desert with the little girl and her geese?
 The moment had come for Moses to lift his staff and signal Exodus. I walked slowly to where they waited, twisted and tangled back through the cool sphinxes. What had Moses felt as these eyes turned to him in trust? The man I had glimpsed on Mt. Sinai had been afraid.
 I had met Moses on Sinai, yes, but Moses had met God. And then I knew what Moses had felt, he had been confident, joyous, unhesitating.
 Of course Moses could not lead these thousands across the desert. He never would have tried. But God could do it. And Moses, this all-too-human man, this man so much like the rest of us, had simply turned himself into the instrument through which the strength of God moved.
 With joy I cried out the words that Moses cried: “Bear us out of Egypt, O Lord, As the eagle bears its young upon its wings...”
  Then I lifted Moses’ staff and saw the multitude heave into a vast shudder of motion, and walk out from bondage. 

When we think about our own struggles, I think Heston’s insight about Moshe is essential. If we truly believe in God, and trust that He is at our side, we have to remind ourselves that while perhaps I don’t have the strength to do what God is putting me up to… that while I don’t think I can survive the suffering experience I am having… that while I will have questions until the day I die about why I needed to have this experience… the difficult time is a struggle I can get through because God is with me.

Avraham goes from being a Yrei Elokim to a Yrei Hashem because he sees God is not just about judgment. God is also merciful. God spared Yitzchak, even after Yitzchak was dead to Avraham.

And as RAL noted, it is that difficult moment that serves as a watershed in a person’s experience.

When I was in yeshiva in Israel post-high school, I remember going to the funeral of Rabbi Kenny Hain’s father, AH. One of the rebbeim in yeshiva, who had grown up in Woodmere, took my brother and I there, and after the funeral he offered to take us to the graves of RAL’s parents. At the back of every section we passed in the cemetery were smaller, in some cases unmarked graves. These were miscarriages, still borns, children who did not survive long after birth.

And there were A LOT of them

Har Hamenuchot has one way streets. And this rebbe remarked to us, “Do you know why the streets are one-way in the cemetery? Because you never go out the same as how you came in.”

I think that line summarizes what Rosh Hashana is meant to be for us. It’s a day when we look to Avraham, perhaps we look to Moshe, we look to all those who suffered in their lives and we realize “I’m not alone.” And if we trust in God, we can tell ourselves that the cleansing that comes from the difficult experience will help define who I am. It might help me become a stronger person, it might give me clarity in life.

I saw a video this year for the organization Kids of Courage. They create amazing experiences for kids and young adults who live in the most trying of circumstances. Whether born with tremendous physical handicap, attached to life saving machinery, or whether they had a debilitating life-event, such as the perfectly normal young man who was electrocuted by a telephone wire, losing both legs and an arm.

In the video, after describing his accident and how he first came to the realization of what had happened to him after waking from the coma, he said he didn’t think he had a reason to live anymore.

But if I could use RAL’s words, the accident cleansed him. It gave him pause to think, to consider, to analyze his life, what he puts into it, and what he hopes to get out of it.

A few weeks ago I quoted a line from Joseph Telushkin’s mother, AH, who said “The happiest people I know in life are people I don’t know very well.”

Every person in this room has something going on that we wish were different. Finances, illness, loss, infertility, divorce, drugs, difficulty with a child. A personal struggle with a medical problem, with a temperament problem, with an aging problem, or some form or another of loneliness.

Where does it take us?

It’s Rosh Hashana. It’s the Yom HaDin. The Day of Judgment. Perhaps one message from the shofar is to blast our problems away, as we take our struggle and do our best to move forward with it.

But even that’s not easy. And perhaps it’s not a good solution. But the sound of the shofar is also reminiscent of God at the Mountain, when He sounded the shofar that accompanied Revelation.

Rabbi Soloveitchik wrote a lot about his relationship with God, and the feeling of having God carry him, the feeling of God’s gentle caress on his worn and frail shoulders. And maybe that’s what the totality of our Rosh Hashana experience is meant to be. It’s a heavy day. We’re in shul many hours. Maybe we’re hungry. Maybe we’re tired. Maybe we’re looking at the clock wondering when this will be over.

But if we take it all in – Confidence in Judgment as I mentioned yesterday; the realization of how any struggle is the gate to the new me; the connection with God that is meant to be symbolized through the Shofar; the model of Avraham and Moshe who went to edges of despair and emerged as the incredible men they became, we begin to see the doorway for our own deliverance opening.

Let today’s Torah reading be the closest we should ever get to experiencing our own Akedah. But like RAL said about Avraham’s experience there. Let the person who exits shul this afternoon be a committed-to-better person than the one who entered this morning.

If Rosh Hashana moves each of us properly, let that be the blessing of our collective experience.

There’s No Crying in… Rosh Hashana

Rosh Hashana 

 by Rabbi Avi Billet 

There is a tale in the book of Nechemiah, a tale of Rosh Hashana. It was in the initial years of the Return from the exile of 70 years following the destruction of the first Temple.

The crowd who returned was very assimilated – many had intermarried, the people were not well versed in Torah, and yet they returned to their ancestral homeland to reestablish the commonwealth that had been destroyed by the Babylonians, who were now gone.

Be that as it may, Nechemiah chapter 8 relates the following tale: “The people gathered to the square that was before the Water Gate, and they said to Ezra the scholar to bring the Torah… and he brought it before the congregation of men and women… on the first day of the seventh month. He read in it… from the [first] light until midday in the presence of the men and the women and those who understood… And Ezra opened the scroll before the eyes of the entire people… And Ezra blessed the Lord, the great God, and all the people answered, "Amen, Amen," with the uplifting of their hands, and they bent their heads and prostrated themselves to the Lord on their faces to the ground… Then Nehemiah and Ezra… said to all the people, "This day is holy to the Lord your God; neither mourn nor weep," for all the people were weeping when they heard the words of the Law. And he said to them, "Go, eat fat foods and drink sweet drinks and send portions to whoever has nothing prepared, for the day is holy to our Lord, and do not be sad, for the joy of the Lord is your strength." And the Levites quieted all the people, saying, "Hush, for the day is holy, and do not be sad." Then all the people went to eat and to drink and to send portions and to rejoice greatly, for they understood the words that they informed them of.”

Rashi says the people were crying because they realized they had not been fulfilling the Torah properly. Ignorant of Torah they may have been, but sincere people trying to do what was right they also were. When the Tur compares Rosh Hashana to a Judgment Day of anyone in the world, he says people wear black and they may forget to groom, because they don’t know how things will turn out. But we wear white, and wrap ourselves in white, and we shave and cut fingernails, and eat and drink and we are happy and joyous and confident for our outcome.

The Talmud in Sukkah tells us that from the verse “the days of your joy, and your holidays, and your Rosh Chodeshes” we learn that the only Rosh Chodesh not celebrated as Rosh Chodesh, namely Rosh Hashana, is a special day of Simcha/joy! After bringing a number of rabbinic opinions who felt that Rosh Hashana should be a day of fasting, Rabbi Ovadiah Yosef notes that the simple understanding of Nechemiah’s response is that there were people who didn’t understand Rosh Hashana and felt they were supposed to fast! Nechemiah was explaining to them not to fast because Rosh Hashana is a day of joy.

Rav Ovadiah writes that not only is it wrong to cry on Rosh Hashana, but on the contrary, a person should go through the prayers with pleasantness and with joy. Kaddish and kedusha are said with the selichos melody because there is an element of rejoicing which should be accompanied by trepidation. But the overwhelming attitude of this day is one of great joy.

Yet Rav Ovadiah recounts a seeming contradiction. Rabbi Chaim Vital noted how the Arizal cried all day on Rosh Hashana, and even moreso – obviously – on Yom Kippur. And the Ar”i felt anyone who didn’t cry had a soul that hadn’t been self-molded properly.

On the other side, the Vilna Gaon felt that one is NOT ALLOWED TO CRY at all, and he would have the chazzan say a Kaddish with a melody more reflective of Yom Tov than of Selichos.

Rav Ovadiah explains that there is no contradiction. A person should not be making himself cry. But if his intensity and his kavvanah brings him to cry, there is allowance for this. This was certainly the case with the Arizal, who carried the weight of the world on his shoulders because of his deep understanding of the Zohar and the secrets of the universe – he could be drawn to crying. Rav Ovadiah compared this to a known passage about Rabbi Akiva, who would cry on Shabbos when he read Shir HaShirim. When his students asked him how he cries when it is forbidden to be sad on Shabbos, he replied that it was therapeutic for him to cry, citing a fulfillment of “oneg Shabbos” – enjoying Shabbos.

Perhaps the same means of getting to cry is ok here – if the crying comes from a place of Kedusha, and from a deep connection and longing for clinging to God – such as the Arizal approach, rather than out of fear.

Rabbi Ovadiah puts it this way – “but to bring oneself to cry through a mournful act of crying is not permissible.”

And he concludes with this important message:

The bottom line is one should not cry on Rosh Hashana. And the prayers of the days should be recited with joy and with holy pleasantness, and with great kavvanah and intensity, for prayer without intent is like a body without a soul. However, one who stirs himself to cry on account of his kavvanah is not violating a prohibition. He should be blessed all the same.

Teshuvah that is accompanied by joy is a fulfillment of what the Tur spoke about – a confidence we have that our repentance and our prayer has been accepted. The two – Teshuvah and joy – go hand in hand.

May we be blessed to enjoy our High Holidays, with the confidence that our joy will carry us to where we need to be when Yom Kippur is over – to a fulfillment of “Serve God with joy!”