Kaddish for Our Father 12/29/2009
It's been 11 months since my beloved father left this world. by R. Yehuda Weinberg Today marks the end of the11th month since my father, Rabbi Noach Weinberg zt"l, passed away. This day is not marked as an official day that one has to do anything specific other than to stop saying the Kaddish prayer. But for me it's an especially sad day. Essentially, this is the first time I have to deal with mourning. I have learned that there are four stages in the mourning period. The first stage started from the minute I found out that my father passed away until the burial. This stage is obviously the most painful. The second stage begins from the burial and goes through seven days of sitting shiva. These seven days are a mix of pain and comfort, where so many friends come to console the mourners. The third stage is sheloshim, that starts after shiva and goes for 30 days from the burial. On those days, even though the pain is still present, it starts to get mixed into other areas of life. The last stage is the completion of the year since the death. At this time, the pain surfaces at different times in one's daily routine. Our Sages devised such a wise way to mourn and find comfort. King Solomon wrote that there is a time for everything, including a time to be happy and a time for sadness. Why do we need a time for sadness? During this period, I've learned to appreciate this teaching. Being sad presents an opportunity to grow and gain a deeper understanding about the meaning of life and the correct way to handle a crisis. During the first stage, from the minute that my father passed away, it was impossible for me to even talk. The pain and the sadness were so intense. The ceremony and the funeral afterward felt like a non-ending darkness. I felt like I was going down without any hope that the pain would subside. At the funeral, there were so many people who came to give their last respects to my great father, but I was someplace else, even though I was right next to him. Then came that moment where I was forced to speak. Fortunately, these were the first words that I needed to say: "Yisgadal V' Yiskadash Shemay Raba..." – reciting the Kaddish. Suddenly I felt I'm not alone. I remembered that I have the Almighty to rely on, forever and ever. I felt not only the pain of the loss of my father, but also the opportunity to remember him and everything he taught me through this special way of sanctifying and praising God's name. From that moment, I felt that I was starting to climb upwards and had hope that happier days were to come. Everyday when I have the opportunity to say the Kaddish prayer, I reconnect to this emotional healing feeling. So today when I need to stop saying Kaddish, it's an especially sad day. The reason that we stop saying Kaddish at the end of the 11th month is because the Sages say that the longest period of time that a person could be judged in the next world is 12 months. But we assume that the deceased does not require the maximum 12 months of judgment and stop saying Kaddish, which helps the deceased during this period, after 11 months. Although it's hard for me to stop saying Kaddish today, to stop using this tool that enables one to have a stronger spiritual connection with God, as well as with my beloved father, it's much easier to stop, knowing that this is giving honor to my father. I will definitely continue to learn in the merit of my father, to continue this meaningful connection. During this year of mourning, one of the things that I have gained was a long conversation with my father. My father has left behind a priceless treasure -- his teachings on so many topics and ideas. Whenever I would have something on my mind, I would dive into this sea of knowledge and listen to his words. I see this as a special privilege for me. I have received a priceless gift and I wish to share it with the whole world. This article can also be read at: http://www.aish.com/rebNoach/e/80251387.html Rav Gav- 4 Daily Meditations 12/27/2009
A great video-blog by an Aish HaTorah Rabbi from Jerusalem "I Want to See the Priest of this Synagogue" 12/22/2009
The Holtzberg's Role in Bhagirath Prasad's Long Journey Home By Mirish Kiszner Dr. Abraham near the Cave of the Patriarchs in Hebron, Israel. "Who are you?" the custodian questioned the stranger walking into the synagogue. "Why are you here?" "I want to see the priest of this synagogue," the visitor, a young doctor, replied. "Are you a Jew?" "No." The non-Jewish caretaker replied, "No, you can't come in here." Disappointed, Dr. Abraham began to make his way down the stairs, but blocking his path was an elderly gentleman. Every home he'd visit boasted several idols"Young man," he said in a kind voice, "I heard that conversation. Come, come, tell me what you want. My name is Freddy. Freddy Sofer." The elderly man ushered Dr. Abraham into a small room and ordered tea and snacks from the caretaker. "Come sit down, have a bite, and let's talk." The doctor, feeling more at ease, fixed Mr. Sofer with a hopeful gaze. "I want my son to be circumcised," he blurted out. The elderly man nodded kindly. "I see," he said. "So tell me about yourself." Dr. Abraham began to relate his story. The road leading to Bina, a rural village in India, is rough and ragged, but the local villagers seem happy. Against the backdrop of the scenic landscape, the tribal residents take pride in their traditions and rituals. Yet, the tempest within the heart of Bhagirath Mohandas Prasad, then a young man of about twenty-two, refused to abate. The storm began when, at eighteen, Prasad, emerging from his sheltered childhood, began to question his religious roots. Every home he'd visit boasted several idols which the families worshiped, and the inquisitive lad, the youngest of five children, couldn't help but doubt their authenticity. He sought answers in newspapers, books, and educated people. What was the use for these rituals? The explanations he received didn't calm the tempest either. The silent statues only emphasized his profound frustration. Until one day, compelled by something he couldn't quite define, Prasad lifted the figurines of stone and wood and hurled them across the floor where they remained lying in a broken heap. Fearing his father's anger and the likelihood of a beating, young Prasad decided to run away. He escaped to Bhopal, about two hundred kilometers from Bina, where he continued his medical education. A job in the government health services secured him enough money to visit the big city of Mumbai where he could learn English and live among people from disparate cultures and geographical backgrounds. He craved a life of honesty, if a simple oneAnd still, the storm in his heart wouldn't cease. He witnessed one too many episodes of corruption, exploitation, and unabashed bribery. Prasad became convinced that this system was not for him. He craved a life of honesty, if a simple one. If he couldn't proffer goodness, at least he wouldn't spread evil. He turned to Christianity, but was quickly deterred, though he continued to treasure the Bible he received from his would-be teachers. At the time, Prasad was employed in a nursing home, working the night shift. A young nurse noticed his interest in the Bible and they shared many nocturnal talks. Prasad was amazed at her wide knowledge of the Bible and delighted in the answers that were always on her tongue. Her name was Rani, which, in the Hindi language, means "queen." It wasn't long before the two got married, with Rani continuing to teach Prasad, and Prasad continuing to read the Bible. The Ten Commandments held a magnetic pull for Prasad, but Rani wasn't very pleased. She sent Prasad to several learned people to talk him out of his obsession but they quickly gave up, thinking Prasad a fool. Of course, this caused a tussle between the couple, but Prasad continued to insist on the Torah's authenticity. Dr. Abraham and his children at the Chanukah celebration in Mumbai. When the couple's first son was born, Prasad decided that his son would have no connection to his background. Since every Indian child carries his father's name as well as his own, Prasad began to look for a new name, a name from the Bible. "For my first name, I chose Aaron, after the High Priest, and Abraham as my surname after our forefather Abraham who, like me, searched for G‑d. My wife, Rani, became Malka, which means "queen" in Hebrew. She was fascinated by the Biblical Samuel, so we gave that name to our son. We changed all our legal papers so that nothing remained of our past." "Do you know a Jewish family?" he asked the librarianWhen Dr. Prasad, now Dr. Abraham, read about the idea of circumcision, he was set on having his son circumcised. "I had been circumcised medically, so I thought I was fine. I didn't know that a medical and Jewish circumcision differed," he explained. The desire to circumcise his firstborn led Dr. Abraham to search for the Mumbai Jewish community, his only clue a Jewish library. "Do you know a Jewish family?" he asked the librarian. "No." "Do you know of a Jewish church, then?" he tried again. "No, no. Don't call it that. Jews call it a synagogue and, yes, there's one right across the road. It's closed now at 8:30 PM, but you can go there anytime during the day." And that's how it happened that several weeks later, one Shabbat afternoon, Dr. Abraham climbed the steps to the synagogue only to be stopped by the caretaker. "I want my son circumcised," Dr. Abraham told the elderly man. Mr. Sofer leaned back in his chair and regarded Dr. Abraham with gentle eyes. "Dr. Abraham, your story is very interesting. But it's not that easy, my friend. According to Jewish law you have to convert in order to be circumcised. If you want to convert, you will have a very tough life. It's not easy to live as a Jew." But these words didn't discourage the young doctor. He felt prepared for the drastic change, for the tough life, if only to become part of a people that believed in One G‑d. The years passed in a whirl of Hebrew studies and mitzvah observanceThe years passed in a whirl of Hebrew studies and mitzvah observance, learning and growing, community volunteer work, attempts at conversion and painful rejections. Still, Dr. Abraham and his wife, who by then shared her husband's commitment, didn't give up. When his dream of visiting Israel was fulfilled, the longing in his heart intensified, and yet, his application for Israeli citizenship was refused. Rabbi Gabi Holtzberg joyful after finishing to build the sukkah. But in 2003, an extraordinary young couple, Rabbi Gavriel and Rebbetzin Rivky Holtzberg, arrived in Bombay. "One of their boys was sick and brought into the hospital where I worked," Dr. Abraham recalls. "It was Friday, and I saw Gabi felt strained. I understood that he was worried about Shabbat so I offered to stay with the child. After Shabbat, he approached me with a thick bundle of Indian rupees, but I insisted that what I did was not for the money, but for Shabbat. He tried to push me to accept the money but when I refused, he brought me a set of Torah books, a gift that became very precious to me." The Holtzberg's taught Dr. Abraham and Malka Hebrew language and Jewish law. They wouldn't make a move without consulting the Holtzberg's, spending every Shabbat and holiday in the Holtzberg's Chabad House. In 2008, Rabbi Holtzberg wrote a letter to the head of the conversion committee in Israel, vouching for the Abraham's sincerity. "The Holtzberg's were totally devoted to Chabad and the Jewish nation. He always welcomed us graciously. 'Come, bring your wife and children,' he always told me. We built a sukkah together, celebrated Chanukah together, joined his Passover seder. He was so kind to the Israeli tourists, the backpackers who were often robbed by the Indians. Rabbi Gabi helped them in every way; he provided shelter, food, money… whatever they needed until they received their immigration papers from the Israeli Consulate." Many people returned to Jewish practice through Rabbi Gabi. Once, a young Israeli entered the Chabad House disturbed and depressed. He said to Rabbi Gabi, "Where is G‑d?" Rabbi Gabi heard his problems, assured him all would be well, and gave him a place to stay. This fellow stayed with Rabbi Gabi for about two weeks, observing Rabbi Gabi's practice of Judaism. He prayed with Rabbi Gabi and put on tefillin daily. He left a different person, stable in mind and committed to a Jewish lifestyle. "They never discriminated… they treated everybody equally"Another young Israeli tourist who suffered from medical problems once contacted Rabbi Gabi, telling him he wasn't feeling well. Rabbi Gabi immediately went to visit him, brought him to the hospital and paid the advance deposit of $300 to cover medical costs. "They never discriminated… they treated everybody equally. Rivky worked tirelessly in the kitchen, preparing large quantities of food, supervising the dishes, personally taking care of everything. "The Holtzberg's told us that when we move to Israel, they'd miss us terribly, but would share our joy. And then, this terrible, unfortunate terrorist attack happened. It's a loss for everybody, but our lives were shattered." Dr. Abraham's daugher, Sharon, playing with Moishie Holtzberg. In the aftermath of the tragedy, an Israeli reporter formed a connection with Dr. Abraham and urged him to send his son, Shmuel, to Israel where he arranged for him to learn in Yeshivat Machon Meir in Kiryat Moshe, Jerusalem. When the Abraham's aliyah – immigration to Israel – was finally approved, this same journalist helped the family find a place in his own city of Kiryat Arba. My meeting with Dr. Abraham was coming to an end when an urgent look appeared on Dr. Abraham's face. He leaned forward and told me, "Please write these words." "If someone is sincere to G‑d, He will never forsake you, as my experience has taught me. G‑d sent me help through many angels, including Rabbi Gabi and Rebbetzin Rivky. It took me twenty years to come to live in Israel, so, please, never give up hope, and be sincere to G‑d's will and His Torah." from Chabad.org The War on Chanukah 12/22/2009
by Michael Freund NY Times' David Brooks could not possibly have gotten it more wrong For more than 2,000 years, Jews around the world have been faithfully celebrating Chanukah, the annual festival of lights which commemorates the miracles performed for our ancestors during the great Hasmonean revolt against the Seleucid tyrant Antiochus Epiphanes. It is a holiday rife with meaning for young and old, which in part explains its popularity among all sectors of Jewry, from the most estranged to the most observant. Who, after all, does not draw inspiration from the heroism of the Maccabees? Guided by divine providence, they restored our national and religious sovereignty, defeated the Syrian-Greek invaders and purified the Temple in Jerusalem. What a stirring example of Jewish faith and fortitude! And yet, in recent years, a deeply troubling phenomenon has taken root, as the festival and its underlying themes have come under attack. By defacing and distorting its meaning, a growing number of pundits have essentially declared war on Chanukah, seeking to hijack the holiday to advance their own personal or political agendas. For the most part, the assault on this beloved holiday has largely been led by devotees of the left, who have sought to shear away Chanukah's historical, religious or even cultural content, and transform it into a vehicle for promoting entirely unrelated issues. Take, for example, an article in last week's Philadelphia Inquirer, which proclaimed the advent of "Chanukah with a climate-change message," It quoted Arthur Waskow of the Shalom Center, who said regarding the holiday: "Can there be a more perfect occasion to focus on energy conservation and breaking our dependence on fossil fuel?" Somehow, I doubt that when Judah the Maccabee and his brothers made their valiant stand two millennia ago, they did so to promote awareness of global warming. The fact of the matter is that the Maccabees fought to salvage Judaism, not to save the oceans or even the whales. To suggest otherwise is to misrepresent the holiday and its message. Moreover, at a time when American Jewry is rapidly attenuating as a result of assimilation and intermarriage, it would hardly seem wise to dilute Jewish holidays of their Jewish content. If anything, ways need to be found to underline and reinforce their uniquely Jewish aspects. Not everything in life is always so clear-cut, but the victory and miracles of Chanukah most assuredly are. But it would be wrong to suggest that the onslaught against Chanukah is solely the province of the left, for even some political conservatives have decided to take up arms against the festival. The latest to do so is David Brooks, the conservative New York Times columnist, who penned an article last Friday that was utterly offensive and displayed a keen misunderstanding of what Chanukah is all about. Referring to the Maccabees as a "bunch of angry, bearded religious guys," Brooks asserted that they were "best understood as moderate fanatics." "The Maccabees," he acknowledged, "heroically preserved the Jewish faith. But there is no honest way to tell their story as a self-congratulatory morality tale." "The lesson of Chanukah," Brooks insisted, "is that even the struggles that saved a people are dappled with tragic irony, complexity and unattractive choices." Brooks could not possibly have gotten it more wrong. Indeed, his moral relativism and befuddled judgment is precisely the kind of thinking that the Maccabees were fighting against. Matityahu and his sons went to war because everything that Judaism held sacred was in danger. They risked their lives for something larger than themselves, and every Jew alive today owes them a debt of gratitude as a result. Theirs was a black-and-white struggle, a straightforward encounter between good and evil, which ensured that the Jewish people did not go the way of other ancient nations and become extinct. Sure, not everything in life is always so clear-cut, but the victory and miracles of Chanukah most assuredly are. And that is why it is so crucial that we stave off efforts by the Waskows and Brookses of the world to water down or submerge entirely the core elements of this special holiday. Everybody, it seems, wants to reinterpret the Maccabees, rather than just accept them for what they were: national patriots and spiritual heroes. It is those most basic of values -- fidelity to Jewish tradition, love of freedom and faith in the justness of our cause -- which embody Chanukah and which we must all strive to emulate. So when I light the candles, I don't think about carbon footprints, hybrid cars or any other such causes, however worthwhile they might be. Instead, I celebrate the great miracles performed for our ancestors, and hope very much for our own. This op-ed originally appeared in the Jerusalem Post. This article can also be read at: http://www.aish.com/jw/s/79747967.html Evolution: My Stance on the Issue 12/09/2009
by Yitzchak Alderstein Winds blew some Intelligent Design folks into town, and I wasn’t quick enough to catch the last stage out before they arrived. As a confirmed contrarian, I immediately moved into defensive and skeptical postures. Nonetheless, I came away with a different attitude than before. Given where I started off, I even surprised myself. Many of my friends greeted the ID people with open arms. After all, everyone “knows” that ID people give a hard time to evolutionists, and everyone knows that properly Orthodox people blanch at the very mention of the e-word. So if the ID people give evolutionists a hard time, they must be our friends. Maybe I’m not properly Orthodox, but evolution is just not an issue for me. (I know what you are thinking, but spare me. I’ve written this before. Much of what follows is an abbreviated form of an exchange with David Klinghofer in this forum in November 2006.) I recognize that I am in the minority in this regard (although not so sure if this is true for frum folks with scientific background), but I made peace with evolution years ago. I’m neither convinced of its truth (although it explains volumes of collected phenomena that no one in the frum community even begins to deal with) nor convinced of its untruth. Of course I reject one small assumption made by some evolutionists, including the most strident and vocal ones. They believe that not only did G-d have no part in it, but that having adequately explained the Great Mystery of Life, there is no need to believe in G-d, c”v. My belief is that if the Ribbono Shel Olam set up the original conditions, including the physical constants of nature in such a way as to produce the world as we know it, using natural selection and about 15 billion years (a span of time so large I simply can’t wrap my mind around it to decide whether the scenario is plausible or ludicrous), I for one would have no objection. As R Samson Raphael Hirsch wrote in the infancy of the theory – well before he could, in all fairness, properly analyze it, but also before over a century of corroborating evidence – if the theory turns out to be true, we will stand in even greater awe of the wisdom of HKBH. There is wondrous elegance in reducing all of existence to what was contained in the singularity that preceded the laws of nature as we know them. Reducing all there is to a mysterious oneness has great appeal to me. In other words, it makes no difference to me whether Hashem created the world in six days of miraculous intervention, or telescoped all of the miraculous into some moment preceding Big Bang. As long as the results are attributed to the Will of HKBH, I can live with either scenario, and I don’t really need to know which of these – or some other alternative – is correct. There are advantages and disadvantages to each. Believing in six literal days makes it much easier to follow the verses of the first chapter of Bereishis – but leaves so much of the observed world, as seen by multiple disciplines, unexplained. (My preference is to leave them unexplained, rather than offer some of the explanations I have heard people propose, which I can only regard as well-intentioned silliness, guaranteed to drive young people off the derech should they ever study real science.) Evolution provides a framework for understanding much of the natural world – but sends those who accept it scrambling to find an acceptable approach to the Creation story. (Just what some of those approaches might be is a topic for some future post, but not this one.) How to choose? If you have no occasion to ever step over the threshold of modern science, there would seem to be little reason to abandon the plain meaning of the opening of Bereishis. This seems to be the message of quite a few Gedolei Torah who live in communities in which science simply doesn’t figure. Their advice should be vigorously heeded. For others, there is no compelling reason to choose at all. We live with many valid and opposing options in other areas of Jewish life, including halacha and just about any daf in Shas. We don’t need answers to all questions. It should be satisfying to some people to be able to hedge their bets. Their formulation might be expressed this way: Maybe the evolutionists are right; maybe they are not. Either way, I feel comfortable getting up in the morning and shouting, “Mah rabu ma’asecheh Hashem…!” Others, however, have different needs. People who spend time in the science classroom or the research lab cannot be expected to sit calmly at the 50 yard line, watching the action on both sides. The language of biology is the language of evolution, and it has been that way for decades. People tend to invest themselves in what they spend their time doing. It is natural to expect that they will not or cannot be expected to function as intellectual aliens within their disciplines. Rejecting evolution for them is the equivalent of asking a frum geographer to join the Flat Earth Society. What options are available to such people in the frum world? I am aware of two. The first is the Divinely authored and engineered form of evolution I described above. The second is ID. I would have thought that the former is greatly to be preferred. After all, what we are looking for is a way for a frum scientist or student to minimize the apparent tension between science and emunah. Embracing a Divinely driven evolution does just that. A student can sit in any classroom, take part in any discussion, read any paper, without having to pinch himself or herself and say, “Hey, I’m not really supposed to believe any of this!” He can believe any of it he wants – except for the very beginning of the process, which tends not to come up in any discussion because it is outside of the purview of science. Our student will not feel compelled to speak up in class to protest his disbelief, nor feel guilty for not speaking up! The tension is minimized. If, on the other hand, we would embrace ID, we gain very little. We still put our students at loggerheads with what everybody else in their discipline believes, because – whether for good reason or bad – the ID view is rejected by most. What do we gain by substituting one unpopular alternative to the industry standard (ID) for another unpopular one (the old creationism)? Let me clarify for those who may not be up on the details of the topic. ID is a scientific formulation, to those who subscribe to it, not a philosophical or theological one. It does not speak about G-d, although it is patently G-d friendly. It argues that there are scientifically valid ways to show design, rather than the aggregate product of natural selection. Furthermore, it argues that therefore the present understanding of evolution (which we will call neo-Darwinian synthesis, or NDS) simply cannot explain the phenomena we know about. This last point is the rub. A frum evolutionist could believe that everyone else’s understanding of how evolution happened (again, other than the Divine role in setting it up) is correct. The ID supporter has to believe that they all are laboring under a misconception. Natural selection alone cannot and did not do the trick. This moves the ID supporter to the margins of accepted scientific thought, or beyond them. Speaking purely practically, why should we put ourselves there? So when Stephen Meyer of the Discovery Institute addressed an early morning meeting of LA rabbonim, I challenged him with this very pragmatic question. (A few weeks before, I had challenged David Berlinski with the same question, and found him agreeing with me!). I also posed a more theoretical challenge to him. He responded to both well enough to get me thinking – and to modify my thinking in part. More on that in the continuation of this topic later. from Cross-Currents.com Life...Never Forget 12/06/2009
Powerful short film on the Holocaust, very worth watching. Living with the Tension 12/06/2009
by Rabbi Jonathan Rosenblum of Cross-Currents.com Yaakov Avinu represents the highest level of perfection among the Avos. Avraham Avinu produced a Yishmael; Yitzchak Avinu produced an Esav. But Yaakov’s progeny became the Twelve Tribes; each one of them entered into Klal Yisrael. Avraham’s defining middah (characteristic) was chesed (loving-kindness); Yitzchak’s was the opposite, gevurah (strict judgment). Yaakov’s characteristic of emes (truth) can be viewed as a synthesis of the two. The above schema is well-known. But it raises an interesting question. Why did HaKadosh Baruch Hu have to proceed through Avraham and Yitzchak to reach Yaakov? Why could He not have just started with the embodiment of emes in Yaakov? Apparently, emes could only arise out of a creative tension between chesed and din. That tension was a necessary condition for reaching the ultimate perfection. My friend Rabbi Aharon Lopiansky first articulated this insight while counseling a young ba’al teshuva who was torn between his desire to deepen his own Gemara learning and his sense of obligation to share what he had already learned with the great majority of Jews who have never tasted Torah in their lives. The most important thing, Rabbi Lopiansky told him, was to continue to live with the tension rather than try to deny the validity of either goal. Many of the most difficult choices in life are of this nature. The choice is not between life and death, good and evil, but how to balance two Torah values. The easiest course is often to suppress one side of the equation and to remove the tension. But from such a course, emes will not emerge. Avraham Avinu and Yitzchak Avinu both were tested in ways that required them to act against their dominant middah. For Avraham, the greatest test was Akeidas Yitzchak, which required him to act contrary to the message he had taught the entire world for decades by sacrificing his own son. Yitzchak’s greatest test, as described by Rabbi Dessler in Michtav M’Eliyahu, came when he affirmed the blessings to Yaakov. Yitzchak knew that Yaakov was at a higher spiritual level than Esav, and thought therefore that Yaakov should not receive any material blessing but rely exclusively on strict justice. When Yitzchak sensed, because of Yaakov’s voice and the scent of Gan Eden emanating from his clothes, that it was Yaakov standing before him, he recognized a Divine hint to depart from his lifetime emphasis on strict judgment and that Yaakov might also need a blessing of material bounty. Thus his great fear and trembling. Avraham and Yitzchak were severely tested. But only Yaakov, the man of emes, experienced a life of unbroken travail – from being forced to flee from his brother Esav, to the twenty years in Lavan’s house, to the confrontation with Esav, to the twenty-two years that he mourned for Yosef. Only Yaakov could have said, “Few and bad have been the days of the years of my life. . . (Bereishis 47:9). From Yaakov we learn that fashioning a new synthesis, while holding fast to two competing poles, is the most difficult task. But only by doing so can emes emerge. Too frequently, when we hear something with which we disagree our initial inclination is to suppress it. Yet often times, both on an individual and a communal level, we would benefit from an airing of both sides of the debate. On most important issues that affect us as individuals and as a community, there is more than one perspective that is relevant. And the truth is more likely to emerge from the clash between the varying approaches than from one side of the debate trying to censor the other. The great historian of the Italian Renaissance Jakob Burkhardt wrote in the 19th century that the future would belong “to those who see things simply.” And in the next century, we witnessed totalitarian regimes that slaughtered tens of millions of human beings in the name of some easily grasped ideal promising to free human existence from all tension and complication. THE NECESSITY OF Avraham Avinu and Yitzchak Avinu, with their diametrically opposed defining characteristics, preceding Yaakov Avinu also has important implications for our understanding of Jewish history. Far from being static, Jewish history follows certain cycles and patterns. The Ohr Somayach, in a famous passage, describes one such pattern with respect to recently exiled Jews arriving in a new land and the change from one generation to the next. After every catastrophic event that destroys the previous equilibrium, there is a pendulum swings until a new equilibrium is found. Let us take one contemporary example. The period between the beginning of World War I and end of World War II completely destroyed a European Jewish civilization built over nearly two millennia. In order to rebuild the entire world of Torah learning destroyed by the Nazis, Rabbi Aharon Kotler in the United States and the Chazon Ish in Eretz Yisrael declared a societal ideal of long-term Torah study for all males that had few precedents in Jewish history. The pendulum swung in one direction, as part of the rebuilding. As the original small flock of dedicated idealists who rallied to the banner of Reb Aharon and the Chazon Ish has miraculously swelled today to an entire community of hundreds of thousands, encompassing a wide range of abilities and spiritual levels, the pendulum has begun to swing in the other direction in search of a new equilibrium. But whatever happens in the future it is s crucial to understand that the extreme response was absolutely necessary, just as the pure chesed of Avraham and the pure din of Yitzchak were necessary for Yaakov to emerge. And so it has been with many of the great conflicts in Jewish history, like that between Chassidim and Misnagdim. In retrospect, the extremes of the early Chassidic movement and the fierceness of the Misnagdic response can be seen as necessary for the synthesis of the qualities of both that has emerged. We could all gain a great deal in the way of tolerance if we recognized that approaches that we dismiss out of hand are often the necessary expression of one pole of an inherent tension. Our task as individuals and a community is too forge our own synthesis from the tension. Understanding Shalom: Rebbetzin Jungries 12/05/2009
I saw her speak at Aish's Partners Conference. One of the holiest Yid in the world. She was the most real and caring person I have had the privilege to meet. Listen Effectively 12/05/2009
by Rabbi Noah Weinberg When the media hits you with another message, don't take the idea for granted. Listen for the message behind the message. Analyze and question. Were you ever in an important conversation and you felt like you weren't getting your point across? You started shouting: "Do you hear what I'm saying? You're not paying attention. Do you hear me!?" Everyone is guilty of this. How many times do we think we're listening to the other person, only to find out later that our mind was somewhere else? Before you decide whether to accept or reject an idea, before you argue, before you make statements, before you decry -- first make sure you're being objective. Otherwise, you're expressing an emotional prejudice -- not an intelligent opinion. Shmi'at b'ozen literally means "listen with your ears." When the Torah uses the word Shema -- as in "Hear O Israel" -- it implies a deeper level listening -- focusing, paying attention, understanding, and putting into action. Zero in on just what is being said and let the message penetrate your thoughts. Effective listening means:
DEFINE YOUR TERMS I was once talking to a tourist on his first visit to Israel. He seemed disenchanted. "They call this the Holy Land," he said. "But I've been up north, down south, to Jerusalem, Masada, all over -- and there's nothing holy about this place." So I asked him: "Tell me, are you a bafoofstik?" "What's that?" "Just answer the question: Are you a bafoofstik or not?" "How can I answer when I don't even know what you're talking about?!" "Aha," I stopped him. "And holiness? Is it angels flapping their wings down the street, in rainbows of color and light, swirling in and out of rocks?" We throw around concepts, but often our thoughts are vague and unsubstantial. Without an objective definition, we can't begin any intellectual process. "Are you a good person?" "Of course, I'm good! What kind of an insulting question is that?" "So tell me, what is the definition of a good person?" If you really desire to be a good person, you need more than feelings to determine whether you're reaching your goal or not. You'll need a clear way of measuring it. Otherwise people can do whatever they feel like doing and paint themselves "good." Even Hitler presumably had a goal of "doing good" -- ridding the world of Jewish vermin. But somewhere, something went wrong. Once you have an objective definition, then you can determine if your life is consistent with that definition. It's true, a person can twist anything. But the more clarity you've got, the harder it is to twist. THE "I-YOU-HE" GAME The 48 Ways has a concept called the "I-You-He" game. It's based on the premise that we usually describe people on three levels. When we refer to ourselves, we paint the best picture possible. With others, we don't want be insulting to their face, so we paint them gray. And when someone is not around to defend himself, we paint him black. "I" am white. "You" are gray. "He" is black. You're the passenger in a car careening 90 miles an hour down a winding mountain road. As you grip the dashboard in fear for your life, you turn to the driver and say, "Aren't you being a bit foolhardy?" "Me? Oh, no. I'm brave. I'm not afraid of anything!" If you're lucky enough to live to tell about it, you say, "That guy's a reckless idiot!" The driver refers to himself as "brave." To his face, you call him "foolhardy." To a third party, he's a "reckless idiot." Which one is the reality? By working through objective definitions, we can assess the situation without personal feelings getting in the way:
Back to the car on the mountain road. You turn to the driver and say, "Why are we risking our lives? What is the worthwhile purpose?" The driver will have to agree he's being a reckless idiot. That's being an intellectual. Leading with your head, rather than muddling through life based on feelings alone. Otherwise, you're always stuck on the level of: "I'm brave, he's a reckless idiot." GET BACK TO BASICS To get your definitions straight, start with the basics. Think of concepts you use all the time, fundamentals upon which you've built your life. Don't use words until you have a definition. You'll be surprised how much you've assumed about a particular idea, and how that assumption has guided your life. You believe in "tolerance." What do you mean by it? You believe in justice? Truth? Love? Freedom? Fairness? Ask yourself: "What do these ideas really mean?" If it's a basic idea that shapes your world outlook, you had better know what it means! Take the example of free will. Judaism says that free will is the decision between what you "want" to do, and what you "feel like" doing. For example, if you harmed someone, you know that you "want" to apologize. Sure, it's the right thing to do and will make peace. But you don't "feel like" doing it because it may be embarrassing and unpleasant. With rare exception, no one consciously chooses evil in the sense of "evil, oooooh, I want to be bad and inflict suffering." No. We choose evil because in the short term, it's a less painful way of dealing with a difficult situation. We do what we "feel like" doing because it's easy. Apply this definition of free will to your life. Do you want to be great? Sure! But you don't feel like making the effort. You feel like postponing it, procrastinating it and ducking the issue. "I don't want to be great, I only want to be average." "Really? You want mediocrity?" "Of course not. I want greatness. Just not today!" "Why not today?" "Because I just don't feel like it..." Do you have a goal? You know you can do it. It's just too painful. Make the decision and nothing will stop you. That's using your free will. OBJECTIVE ARGUMENTATION Sometimes we don't pay attention. We can talk for hours and not even know what we're arguing about. Beit Hillel and Beit Shammai are two famous disputants in Talmudic literature. They argued about almost everything and saw the world from nearly opposite perspectives. For example, Beit Hillel says we should light one Chanukah candle the first night, and add one candle each subsequent night. Beit Shammai, on the other hand, says to light eight candles the first night and then decrease one candle each night. Opposite perspectives! Jewish law follows Beit Hillel. Why? Because in any disagreement, Beit Hillel would always first state the opinion of Beit Shammai, and only then state his own position. In this way, Beit Hillel's position was deemed more objective, reflecting a truth that lay somewhere in between. That's why Jewish law follows Beit Hillel. The next time you find yourself in an argument, get the picture straight. Don't take any ideas for granted, even if you think you understand what they mean. Listen for the message behind the message. Very often the fight is about something entirely different than you thought it was. Maybe underneath the other person is feeling, "He doesn't respect me," or "He takes me for granted." Get the message, not only the words. Ask: "What is her point? What does she mean? What does she want?" Don't be busy getting your answer ready while the other person is still talking. Through questioning, you'll find there is always something deeper. Ask the person: "Do you mean to say... Please tell me if I understand you correctly." This way at least you know that you're arguing about the same thing." Once you think you understand the idea, make the effort to say it over in your own words. Similarly, choosing our own example to illustrate what others are saying forces you to zero in on the essence of that idea. It's a good test to see if you understand the message. And it will help you integrate it and remember it. DON'T BE A ZOMBIE Laziness is holding us back. Creatures use their best instruments effectively -- wings, claws, beaks. But man frequently fails to use his best instrument, his mind. Man will go to any amount of work to avoid thinking. You can read the New York Times for a few hours and then ... nothing, blank! It's a great feeling, but what does it mean? What did you learn? Get into a defining mode. Acquire the habit of analyzing what's happening around you. Anything worth your time -- reading the newspaper, a novel, having a conversation, watching a movie, touring -- should be productive. Always define your goal ahead of time. What do you want to accomplish? Then afterwards, articulate what you learned. If you don't, you'll wind up living with intellectual confusion. For example, people who get fired from a job say they've learned a lot: "Now I know that I can't trust employers, that I'm incapable of a successful career, that the business world is hell, and that..." But that's not what you are supposed to learn. What you should learn is the importance of studying the keys to a successful career before you get a job! In Judaism, we go a lot deeper. We say "clarity or death." "Death" is the complete absence of consciousness; reduced consciousness is therefore partial death. Either you know what you are living for, you know what you want, you know what your pleasure is -- or else you are living like a zombie. That's why we need definitions. It gives us clarity for living. TORAH WISDOM Proper definitions are especially important when you are learning about our Jewish heritage. Taken at face value, the Torah may appear simplistic. Yet we know from tradition that the deepest concepts are contained within Torah, often encoded in simpler messages. Every word is carefully chosen. If the Almighty is speaking, you ought to understand exactly what He's saying. When we speak of Torah, we're speaking of God and eternity, forever. We cannot afford mistakes in this area of life. A mistake in understanding Torah is a mistake for eternity. It's like sending a rocket to the moon. If you send it in a general direction -- but you're off target by a fraction of a mistake in a logarithm of the arc -- then you're lost in space. Let's take an example. The Torah says there is a commandment to "know there's a God." So ask: "What is a commandment? What does it mean to 'know?' Who is God?" Define your terms in order to get behind the message and discover deeper ideas for life. Decode the key. There's a crucial final step as well. Always ask yourself: "Now that I understand, what am I going to do about it?" WHY IS "EFFECTIVE LISTENING" AN INGREDIENT IN WISDOM?
The Secret of Happiness 12/02/2009
by Rabbi Noah Weinberg ztl (My Rebbe) The key to happiness is to appreciate what you have. If it's so simple, why are so many people unhappy? A young man with an unusually happy disposition once came to meet me in Jerusalem. I asked him, "What's your secret?" He told me, "When I was 11 years old, God gave me a gift of happiness. I was riding my bicycle when a strong gust of wind blew me onto the ground into the path of an oncoming truck. The truck ran over me and cut off my leg. "As I lay there bleeding, I realized that I might have to live the rest of my life without a leg. How depressing! But then I realized that being depressed won't get my leg back. So I decided right then and there not to waste my life despairing. "When my parents arrived at the hospital they were shocked and grieving. I told them, 'I've already adapted. Now you also have to get used to this.' "Ever since then, I see my friends getting upset over little things: their bus came late, they got a bad grade on a test, somebody insulted them. But I just enjoy life." At age 11, this young man attained the clarity that it is a waste of energy to focus on what you are missing, and that the key to happiness is to take pleasure in what you have. Sounds simple, doesn't it? So why are so many people unhappy? Happiness Is a State of Mind People often think happiness is based on what you achieve and acquire. My whole life would improve if I had a new car... I just need a better job and then I can relax and be happy... If only I met the right girl... You get the car and what happens? For a whole week you're walking on air. Then you go right back to being unhappy. Happiness comes from mastering the art of appreciating. Happiness is not a happening; it's a state of mind. You can have everything in the world and still be miserable. Or you can have relatively little and feel unbounded joy. As the Talmud says, "Who is rich? The one who appreciates what he has" (Ethics of the Fathers, 4:1). That's why the morning prayers begin with a series of blessings thanking God for the simple and obvious: Thank you, God, for giving me life Thank God I can see, that I can use my hands and feet, that I can think. Happiness comes from mastering the art of appreciating and consciously enjoying what you already have. On the Ledge Imagine you are standing on the 70th floor of the Empire State Building, gazing at the cityscape. Suddenly a rather large man brusquely pushes past you, wrenches the window open and announces his intention to jump. You yell out, "Stop! Don't do it!" The six-foot-five figure turns to you and menacingly says, "Try to stop me and I'll take you with me!" "Umm... No problem, sir. Have a safe trip. Any last words?" "Let me tell you my troubles," he says. "My wife left me, my kids won't talk to me, I lost my job and my pet turtle died. So why should I go on living?" Suddenly you have a flash of inspiration. "Sir, close your eyes for a minute and imagine that you are blind. No colors, no sights of children playing, no fields of flowers, no sunset. Now imagine that suddenly there's a miracle. You open your eyes and your vision is restored! Are you going to jump? Or will you stick around for a week to enjoy the sights?" "I'll stay for a week." "But what happened to all the troubles?" "I guess they're not so bad. I can see!" "Well your eyesight is worth at least five million dollars. You're a rich man!" "Your eyesight is worth at least five million dollars. You're a rich man!" If you really appreciate your eyesight, the other pains are insignificant. But if you take it all for granted, then nothing in life will ever truly give you joy. Misconceptions on the Road to Happiness Misconception #1: "Once I know the tools for being happy, then it will work like magic." Don't expect the results to come automatically. It is possible to understand how to attain happiness, yet not put it into practice. In fact, many people actually prefer to be comfortable and unhappy, rather than endure the discomfort of changing their habits. Just as learning any new skill requires effort, you have to be willing to invest serious effort to achieve real happiness. Misconception #2: "If I become content and satisfied with what I have, I'll lose my motivation to achieve more." Happiness doesn't drain your energy. It adds more! Ask a happy person: "I have a boat. Do you want to go fishing?" "Great! Let's go!" Now ask someone who is depressed, "C'mon, let's go fishing!" "I'm tired. Maybe tomorrow. And anyway, it might rain..." Happy people are energetic and ambitious. There's never enough time to do everything they want to do. Misconception #3: If I want to be depressed, that's my own prerogative. A beautiful Sunday afternoon. You're in the park having a picnic with friends. Suddenly the air is pierced by one person complaining: "Who forgot the forks? It's too hot for volleyball. I want to go home already." When our mood negatively affects others, we recognize we have an obligation to be happy and not spoil the fun. That's why we try to put on a happy face when we're at a party. But what about when we're at home with our spouse and kids? Or when we trudge into the office on Monday morning? Like an open pit in the middle of the road, a sourpuss is a public menace. Being happy is part of being considerate to the people around us. Happiness Exercises These exercises will increase your gratitude and help you build a solid foundation for a lifetime of happiness: a. The Daily Pleasure Count To increase your appreciation of life, pinpoint some things you are extremely grateful for and count them every morning for one month, e.g.: your eyes, your hands, your children, your cat. Set aside a few minutes each day to contemplate these pleasures and feel gratitude for them. To really drive this home, sit down with your spouse or friend every evening and discuss one pleasure that each of you had that day. At the very least, you'll have a happier spouse or roommate! You can incorporate this into your family routine so that your children will also learn to appreciate their daily pleasures. b. One-Hour Blessing-Fest The next exercise is more challenging. Spend one hour writing down everything for which you are grateful. Most people fly through the first 15 minutes. The next 15 minutes the pen moves more slowly. The next 15 minutes get even tougher, but you can pull through if you include your eyebrows and socks... The last 15 minutes are excruciating. Once the list is compiled, add one new blessing each day. The power of this exercise is clear: You must be conscious of all your blessings in order to appreciate whatever new blessings come your way. c. Prioritize Your Blessings To become a real expert at appreciation, prioritize your list. Which is more valuable: your hands or your feet? Eyes or ears? Sense of taste or your sense of touch? Comparing pleasures forces you to articulate the subtle aspects of each one. This article can also be read at: http://www.aish.com/rebNoach/t/48968901.html | AuthorA group of young, motivated students and young professionals blogging Torah, inspiration, and our thoughts. ArchivesMarch 2010 CategoriesAll |
RSS Feed