Akiva Society

1. The Road Home THERE was a time, at first, when I used to believe that all those who recognized the Jews as a people, with a claim to an individual life of its own, were full, national Jews—no matter in which soil they had their spiritual roots.  At that time I did not think at all about religion.  To be sure, I knew that in earlier times religion occupied the foremost place in the life of the Jewish people, and it seemed that even today it still wielded a considerable influence.  But that did not concern me, nor those who thought as I did.  After all, we were national Jews—national loyalty, not religious conviction, was to us the criterion of a Jew.

Somewhat later I came to realize that it was not good enough merely to acknowledge allegiance to one nation or another, as one pleased; to belong to it, one had to enter into its life and spirit.  Of course this view did not let me treat religion with my former indifference: it was in religion that the Jewish spirit had expressed itself through the ages.  Yet I still felt that the Jewish religion had lost its significance for present and future.  Why, indeed, need it be considered the only, immortal expression of the Jewish spirit?  Could this not come to the surface in other, in all, aspects of social and cultural life?

I could not cling to this view for long.  It became clear to me that the history of humanity, of all the nations, all the efforts and achievements of culture, had crystallized and developed around religious, spiritual centers.  I gazed with awe and fervor upon the mysterious spiritual forces which direct the paths of man according to set goals.  Naturally I applied this discovery also to Jewish history; and recognized that the future of the Jewish people, if there was to be one, could only be inspired by, and built around, its central spiritual core.  But I was still too deeply steeped in the spirit of materialism to draw practical consequences from my new wisdom.  I knew well enough now that religion could not be explained away as a useful invention of man; and I realized that its teachings on the unity and meaningfulness of historic developments were true.  But I did not act upon these teachings, because I did not, at this time, truly believe: I did not know G-d yet.

Today I do; I have meditated much about the latter and, if necessary, I can defend (not, G-d forbid, prove) my belief in G-d and all its implications by all manners of rational arguments.  For example, I can note the fact that the plan of a man's life, the development of his spirit, is already determined at the moment of his coming into existence; why, then, should nature and history as a whole be considered to be planless, accidental, without a living spirit to direct them from the first?  Actually, if there were only a purely mechanical process of world development, we could not speak of moral laws (as we in fact do); these only make sense if we consider humanity capable of freely realizing given spiritual goals.  We may consider the development of our world very much like the unreeling of a string from a spool; more and more of the string appears to us, but all of it had already existed before, although invisible to us—and, in the same way, world development may be conceived as the gradual expression of a prior plan laid down by the Eternal Spirit.  Religious faith is challenged by the assertion that world development was not planned, and only appears to express a meaningful plan—yet such an assertion is itself based on a new kind of faith.  It can hardly be denied that where there appears a plan there must be a planner, that the immense structure of the world presupposes a world builder.  From this idea of G-d as planning for eternity I can derive the omnipotence, omniscience, justice and mercy of G-d, without concern for the fashionable arguments of our time.

But these, and other, considerations are not the reason for my faith in G-d today; and it was not they which led me to it.  I did not seek G-d, as people put it, very nicely but hypocritically; I did not have to find Him.  He suddenly announced Himself to me and entered into my consciousness.  Without any mediating speculation I recognized Him, in whom the spiritual foundations of all nations are anchored, the Father and First Cause of all that exists, the Prime Planner of all developments, the Prime Builder of our world.  For a while false shame did not let me submit to this new discovery.  But soon it was overcome by a new and burning shame which has not left me to this day: shame that I should have been for so long among those who do not know of Him; that the wisdom of my ancestors, the greatest there ever was on earth, had so long been dormant within me, and the voice of my people silent so long.

It was then that I rid myself of the last vestiges of my materialistic view of history, and came to recognize the unique nature and life of my people.  True enough, I realized, the other nations had men who knew of G-d even before Jewish influence had reached them.  But these men only philosophized about Him as a cold and lofty abstraction; they did not love Him, and were not His messengers.  He did not inspire them to rise up before their peoples, to proclaim Him to them, to enter with Him into the world.  The nations continued to go their diverse ways; they looked for G-d in the multiplicity of appearances, in the colorful variety of idols.  Only to us, to the speck of dust among the mountains; to us, who since time immemorial, had known G-d without seeking Him, the first and only ones; to us alone was He more than a philosophical discovery.  We entered with Him into the world, to understand its meaning and purpose; we entered with Him into history, to shape it according to His will.  We alone organized our little community for Him alone, without looking for power or petty profits.  Thus we remained lonely and unrecognized among the heathen nations of ancient times—eccentrics for whom they had no use or understanding.  Even later, through the ages, when we met with the nations of the world, we stayed in splendid isolation.

We did indeed give them new religious foundations; our Jewish idea of G-d entered into the world as a perpetual ferment—so that we can almost speak of a "colonial Judaism" among the nations.  But again and again the tough pagan strain inherent in the nations asserted itself by rebelling against our great and unique remaking of the human spirit.  Ever more frequently they attacked those religious and social institutions and movements in their midst which had been inspired by Judaism (even though these structures themselves had rebelled and developed away from their Jewish origins).  They seemed unable to tolerate their Jewish background and component elements.  Particularly since the days of the Renaissance, the attacks multiplied upon the Jewish principle, "G-d first, and only then the world"; and upon the restraints divinely imposed on man.  The ancestral instincts of pagan man strove ever more to break through these restraints, and to attain the so-called "'free play of forces" which does not only let a Cain slay an Abel but even, on occasion, allows one Abel to destroy another.

We, however, were like men in a well-protected port, looking out upon a storm-swept sea.  With astonished eyes we watched the battle raging abroad because of a little part of our Jewish faith.  We remained in our safe haven, alone with our holy mysteries of eternity.  G-d had chosen us—and we Him. 

by Riva Pomerantz
A small revolution began with a broken window.

In a rundown, rough-'n-tumble neighborhood in East Cleveland, a group of Orthodox Jews sporting beards and kippas stand out like sore thumbs. But every morning, they make their way downtown to their warehouse buildings, seemingly oblivious to their forlorn surroundings.

Shimon Weiner is one of these men. From his office on East 131 Street, he often sees people, mainly African-Americans, wandering aimlessly down deserted streets. Sometimes he catches a glimpse of the occasional fight, and every day without fail he sees swarms of children running to and from the public school around the corner.

It was at the end of a school day when the first window was broken. Shimon heard a loud crack as a perfectly aimed stoned found its mark. Hoots of laughter accompanied the shower of broken glass. When the window-breaking spiraled from a one-time incident to a favored leisure activity, Shimon decided he was not going to sit still.

When the next stone hit his window, Shimon hit the roof.

He raced down the stairs and collared the first kid he could. After exchanging a few choice words with the group of terrified youngsters, he finally let them off the hook with threats should there be a reoccurrence.

He was surprised when the next day began with a satisfying crrrack.

Shimon Weiner is not a small man. When he barreled down the street that morning, the kids began to quake. After expressing his rage, Shimon released his captives with the threat that if they ever threw another stone, they'd wish they had never been born.

Oy! Shimon said to himself, as he made his way back to the office calming himself down. What in the world have I done? Messing with inner city kids is not the wisest thing to do, and he felt the ramifications of his reaction sinking in fast. He dialed the school and asked to speak to the principal.

"A group of your kids are on their way to school and they're probably a little shaken up," he admitted sheepishly. "They've been breaking my windows and I really lost my cool." Then he added, "I want to think of a constructive way to stop their behavior."

The principal took the initiative to give Shimon's number to the parents of the offending students. It was not long before he received a call.

"Is this Mr. Weiner?"

"Yes," said Shimon, preparing to get lambasted for intimidating the children.

"I wanted to apologize for my son breaking your windows. I'm so sorry," said the voice on the other line.

Shimon was flabbergasted.

"Well," he said. "Why don't you and some of the other parents come down to my office? I have an idea how we might be able to stop these boys from damaging more windows."

A few hours later a group of parents joined Shimon in his downtown office for some cake and juice. Shimon explained his idea.

"I figure that if the kids and I could get to know each other a bit, they won't want to break my windows," he said simply.

Later that day, a small group of elementary school students walked into the offices of DryCast Inc. Shimon greeted them warmly, offered them some snacks, then paid them to do some light work in his warehouse. The meeting was a huge success. As they were leaving, Shimon told the kids, "You're always welcome to come to my office. Whether you need a bathroom, a drink or help, the door is always open. "

The next morning, Shimon had a bunch of kids knocking on his door eager to say good morning to 'Simon.'

Now they come often. Before school and after school they stop in to say hello and chat with Shimon and his partner Avraham. He asks them about their aspirations in life, about who their heroes are. Some of these children live in homes without father figures; many of them wake up each morning to face a difficult, uncertain world. With his gentle guidance and warmth, Shimon has become a source of hope to dozens of kids.

He is brainstorming on how to expand this kernel of success to help more inner-city kids realize their full potential.

As we anticipate Shavuot, the day on which we renew our commitment to God and His Torah, this story speaks volumes. Torah wasn't given to angels; it was given to imperfect human beings who are striving to bring spirituality into their day-to-day life. Shimon realized his mistake of acting in anger and wanted to repair the damage. He picked up the pieces of that broken glass and made it whole again.

Shimon's tiny revolution started with a broken window. Your next beautiful experience may be only a stone's throw away.





Author Biography:
Riva (Henig) Pomerantz lives with her husband and four children in Ramat Beit Shemesh. Her stories and articles appear on www.aish.com, in Mishpacha Magazine, and in several other publications. Her serialized story, Green Fences, will be released in Summer 2009, to be published by Targum Press. You can visit Riva's website and read her blog at www.rivapomerantz.com.

by Aaron Ross

A group of Israeli backpackers volunteer in Himalayan village schools.

50,000 Israeli go to India each year, looking for freedom after the army, a good time and spirituality in Eastern religions. In Bhagsu Village in Northern India, near Dharamasala, approximately 60% of the population is Israeli. Signs and menus in all shops are written in Hebrew, keyboards in Internet cafes have Hebrew letters and restaurant menus have hummus and Israeli salad on them. When not sitting around drinking chai and chatting, many enroll in yoga and meditation retreats, ayurvedic healing and massage courses and a whole range of different spiritual practices.

One man who understands what they are looking for is Bradley Cohen, a new Israeli immigrant who spent six years in the East, learning eastern spiritual traditions and martial arts. Two years ago he came to Israel, where he found the spiritual insight and Torah wisdom studying at Aish haTorah. He made aliyah last November. Last year in April he walked the entire length of Israel to raise money for orphanages in Africa and Israel, believing we must be a light unto the nations by working in tikkun olam - repairing the world.

His latest project saw him return to India and lead a group of 15 Israeli backpackers, between the ages of 20 and 27, into the foothills of the Himalayas to volunteer in local schools in the morning and learn about Jewish wisdom and spirituality in the afternoon and evenings. Cohen found all the volunteers 24 hours after putting up a Hebrew sign in the village of Bhagsu, an Israeli tourism hot spot located a half-hour away from Dharamsala.

"It is amazing that these people come all the way here to search for spirituality and 'the truth.' They, like me, were never introduced to the beauty of Judaism and don't think to look to it for answers to their life questions. It was sad for me to see that so many people have had negative experiences of Judaism and bad interactions with religious Jews. I think they found it refreshing to be able to ask all their questions to someone with a kippah and tzitzit, but who could also relate to where they were coming from."

The course lasted for eight days, in which the group walked into the mountains to four village schools, an average of an hour apart by foot. They cooked for themselves as a group, surviving often on just rice and vegetables, sleeping on the floor of the schools, making fire, showering in the river -- a real experience of Indian village life. The group, sponsored by the American Jewish Joint Distribution Committee, provided over 200 children with notebooks, pens, sports and music equipment, English and Hindi story books, wall charts and posters, pressure cookers and other equipment much needed by the schools. They ran creative art workshops, English lessons, music and exercise classes and in general gave the kids a great time and long lasting memories. In the afternoon and evening Cohen taught Jewish meditation, gave classes on Jewish topics, as well as answering any questions the group had about Judaism.

The volunteers themselves were varied in their level of Jewish observance and often had long discussions about how to bridge the religious gaps in Israel. "One of the best things was seeing the religious and non-religious working together and respecting each other, and discussing important issues in the evening, getting rid of preconceived ideas and prejudices," said Cohen.

The program also greatly improved the reputation of Israeli travellers amongst the locals, proving that Israelis want to reach out and help, rather than just take and exploit the country.

"As a nation we have a duty to do tikkun olam and be a light unto nations, a duty which we succeeded in on this trip. It was a huge Kiddush Hashem."

The next Be a Kli trip is planned for September. Anyone interested should visit www.allforthekids.org.









This article can also be read at: http://www.aish.com/jewishissues/israeldiary/Be_A_Light.asp

by Aish.com Staff An interview with the founding director of the Wharton School's Leadership Program and Wharton's Work/Life Integration Project.

Google Professor Stewart Friedman and you'll discover that he is the founding director of the Wharton School's Leadership Program and Wharton's Work/Life Integration Project. You will discover that he has a BA in Psychology from Binghamton University and an M.A. in Psychology and Ph.D in Organizational Psychology from the University of Michigan. If you read carefully you will learn that he spent two years as the director of the Leadership Development Center at Ford and that he has consulted with many and varied organizations and individuals including Jack Welch and Al Gore.

But you won't understand who he is and how he arrived at his important and potentially life-changing perspective on integrating life's different components. Aish.com tried to learn more about Professor Friedman in a recent phone interview.

Professor Stewart Friedman's philosophy and approach are summed up in his latest book, Total Leadership: Be a Better Leader, Have a Richer Life. He believes that we are all able to integrate the different parts of our lives -- work, home, community and private selves -- in ways we never thought of and that we don't have to always sacrifice one area of our lives to achieve success in other parts.

Creating boundaries and allocating our time in a thoughtful way is even more crucial today since the digital revolution makes it possible to engage in work-related activities 24/7. In order to truly take advantage of the benefits of this technology (for example, reducing travel by using digital tools), we must be conscious of the danger of becoming even more enslaved. Professor Friedman's tools of self-examination come into important play here.

In order to "be real" we need to introspect and discover what's most important to us. What are our core values? This can be an uncomfortable process that not everyone wishes to engage in (and may avoid through even more work!) but it is certainly worthwhile.

In order to "be whole," we need to ask the most important people in our lives what they expect of us. Professor Friedman has found that what we assume others expect of us is usually greater than what they actually expect. This may provide an opportunity for us to reallocate our attention.

Even if people's expectations are, in fact, not less than you expected, this exercise still leads to a clear and more realistic view of the situation, allowing us to evaluate the relative importance of different relationships.

The third step in this process of self-discovery is for individuals to experiment with new and different ways of getting things done to see what works for them. Since everyone's lives and needs vary greatly, this is a customized program, not a "one size fits all." It requires work and trial and error, as in all experimentation, on the way to getting it right.

The goal is improved performance in all domains with greater satisfaction in each. Note to workaholics: Productivity actually increases with the level of harmony and integration and NOT with the amount of hours spent.

Although Professor Friedman's exposure to Judaism was very limited as a child, his ideas certainly reflect core Jewish thought and values about self-actualization, the search for meaning and the need to lead a thoughtful, balanced and purposeful existence.

Ultimately everyone experiences a greater sense of control and freedom in living in ways that are consistent with what they're passionate about.

Professor Friedman grew up in Brooklyn in a family of artists. His father is a hair stylist and photographer who, at the age of 79, is publishing his first book of photographs. His mother is a painter and playwright. He has a brother who is an actor and a sister who is a textile artist. Although a position at Wharton business school would seem to make him the black sheep of the family, his field of expertise is definitely reflective of the creative influences in his upbringing as well as his studies in psychology.

Friedman credits his parents and their evolution in their roles with inspiring him to pursue this field and was definitely aware of their struggles to be available for their children, their work and each other. He could feel their challenges and that set the stage for his later work.

Although Friedman was always interested in work/life issues and their implications for leadership, it was all theoretical until the birth of his first child. Then the task of integrating the different parts of life became a serious practical reality. We asked Professor Friedman if his wife would say he managed this juggling act successfully but he dodged the question. "You'll have to ask her," he said. "I'm certainly conscious of trying to achieve harmony and alignment among the different parts of my life. I think those of us in this field frequently feel like frauds as we witness the gap between the espoused ideal and our own lives. We all aspire to do a decent job even if it's not as a good as we would like it to be."

We agreed that this model remains harder to achieve for women than for men with women continuing to bear the primary responsibility for child-rearing while being pressured to accomplish so many other things as well.

On the other hand, men have the unique challenge that their sense of self-worth is intimately tied to their income and the status of their employment. This is a challenge at all times but particularly during this economic downturn.

For some this is truly an opportunity to implement Friedman's system, pruning away wasteful activities and focusing on what's most essential. It's a chance to rethink career paths and move out of a rut.

For others the struggle is more basic -- to find a sense of purpose in whatever they do. This is, of course, a fundamental human challenge and Professor Friedman's position has been informed by Victor Frankl's post-Holocaust work, Man's Search for Meaning. "It's crucial for all of us," says Friedman, "to connect our work with something we really care about."

The question of work/life integration and satisfaction seems to be one of the pre-eminent issues of our times.

We suggested to Professor Friedman that keeping Shabbos was a good way to resolve these tensions, to which he agreed. "I live in an area that is predominantly modern orthodox and I've grown to have an appreciation for the rituals of Judaism that I didn't have previously. The more I learn about Jewish philosophy and thought, the more I see that my values and system are very connected."

"Although I was not a great student of Judaism in my youth, what I have learned as an adult has been deeply meaningful to me."

Professor Friedman recently taught his system to a group of philanthropists at the Jewish Federation of Greater Philadelphia and he went on a mission to Israel with them.

Like all good teachers, Professor Friedman teaches in order to keep learning. "In constantly thinking about how to help others, I believe we raise our own consciousness."

Professor Friedman believes his core message is to "do what you love - which starts with clarifying what's important and then figuring out how to get as close to that as we can in our everyday lives."

For more information, please visit www.totalleadership.org.
This article can also be read at: http://www.aish.com/societyWork/work/Total_Leadership.asp