Support The Troops!

Seventy-four of the Torah’s 613 commandments are in the Parshah of Ki Teitzei. Choosing an idea to write about this week was as difficult as shopping in Marshalls. Nice things all over the place, you dont know where to look first, and you have to sort through everything to find what speaks to you at that moment. Some of the mitzvos this week include the laws of the beautiful captive, laws governing the purity of the military camp, the prohibition against turning in an escaped slave, and other laws and discussions about fighting in war.
 With laws as interesting as how to respond to the wayward and rebellious son, burial and dignity of the dead, returning a lost object, sending away the mother bird before taking her young, the duty to erect a safety fence around the roof of one’s home, the judicial procedures and penalties for adultery, for the rape or seduction of an unmarried girl, and for a husband who falsely accuses his wife of infidelity...and a whole lot more, why have I chosen to focus on war? Not because that´s the hot topic in the world right now. This war has no connection to Iran, to the U.S., to Israel, or to Afghanistan. It has nothing to do with Obama.
The war I speak of  is one that´s more personal than the ones we read about on the headlines on Yahoo. It´s a war in which each one of us are the soldiers. Or if we´re lucky, even the Generals. The battle is called LIFE.
In this world, we are all in an ongoing war: our spiritual selves battle our animal selves; our mind fights mindless emotionality; higher, broader vision constantly battles limited vision.
Each time we come to a crossroads, and we have to decide whether to go right, or to go left, we experience an inner conflict. Whatever decision we make will result in some sort of sacrifice, so naturally we choose the easier one.
Easy and Hard. These two antonyms are mistake number one. The second set would be Good and Bad. We often connect and confuse the two ideas by thinking that EASY=GOOD and HARD=BAD. The most practical example disproving this misconception would be: chocolate cake vs. exercise. The cake is EASY...way too easy...but it´s BAD for you. Exercise is HARD...oh, so hard...but it´s GOOD for you. So, easy doesn´t mean good, and hard doesn´t mean bad. Sometimes the more difficult the decision is to make, the more beneficial it will be for us.
We are put to this test, not just daily, but multiple times per day. In our physical lives, and in our spiritual lives. I constantly find myself at a crossroads trying to be victorious over my conflict of wills. My will vs God´s will. Easy vs hard. Intellectual vs emotional.
And sometimes the battle is even more intense, when we make a choice, but the decision made presents a whole new set of choices, bringing us into the overwhelming maze of option. Like choosing to admire instead of ridicule, or to praise instead of slander, to be independent instead of to conform. But... the war isn´t over yet. One must choose to admire, but not envy, to follow but not imitate, to praise but not flatter, to lead but not manipulate.
Life is an ongoing war. And, like in any war, the winner is the one who stoops in order to conquer.

¨ If there exists no possibility of failure, then victory is meaningless ¨

Have a great shabbos! 

The Neighborhood Watch

Double Standards. That's what the problem is.

 

I'm in a big rush so I can't give anyone a ride.... but she's so self centered and that's why she's not offering to take me home.

 

I forgot to invite her to my simcha- I'm only human... but what a chutzpah that someone should forget to invite ME...

 

I can forget to throw my socks into the hamper- sometimes I'm just  soooo tired... but him? How dare he!

 

If any of these examples, or similar ones, just made your brain go 'oops', I think you'd better keep reading.

 

The Parsha this week, Shoftim, speaks about setting up judges and police to ensure some safety in da hood. Safety is a mitzvah. Seat belts, car seats, property and personal protection... it's all written in the Big Book. But we're gonna talk about a different type of safety in a different kind of neighborhood. 

The neighborhood is a small one, consisting of just one individual. Me. Well, that's who's in mine. You- are in yours. The point of us setting up judges and police people (gotta be politically correct) for ourselves is to apply constant supervision over all of our actions and motivation.

 

It is so so easy to find fault in others.

They're spoiling their kids- they really need some chinuch classes.

 

Why doesn't she go on a diet- doesn't she have a mirror at home?

 

He's so intense. Why can't he be more like...me?

 

You get the point.

 

We can blame others and we can judge others without the slightest bit of effort. But this can easily lead to arrogance and stagnation. We need to turn the microscope around and face it inward. Let's be a little self absorbed for once.  Yes, we do have the obligation to make sure others are growing in the right direction... but not before we check our own compasses.

 

Ever been on a plane? Notice how the flight attendants make a whole performance about flight safety? When they act out the scene about what to do when there's a loss of cabin pressure, they tell you very clearly to first make sure your oxygen mask is secured and then reach over to help someone else.

Yeah, we like helping others improve. Something about that makes us feel all warm and fuzzy inside. Especially when we can be so focused on their issues and just put ours on ignore.

 

"Make for YOURSELF judges and police", as it is written in the parsha, is our own personal obligation to keep taking notes, asking for directions, and reviewing our own behaviors in order to continue improving.

 

Before you make judgments about other people, make sure to judge yourself first. And then, fix whatever needs fixing.

 

 Next time a child says to you, "when I get bigger, I wanna be a cop", tell him what a great idea that is.  

 

"Don't keep blaming others for your problems. Just blame them once, and move on".

 

Have a great shabbos!

Not A Vampire´s Favorite Parsha

If you often find yourself craving a slurpee or frapp made from unmodified beast blood, I´d suggest developing a taste for mocha or strawberry instead. Because this week’s Torah portion, Re’eh, includes a prohibition against eating the blood of any animal.  Along with this prohibition, the verse states: “You shall not eat it, in order that it be well with you and your children after you, when you do what is right in the eyes of G-d” (Devarim 12:25).

A close examination of the verse reveals an apparent contradiction: The commandment requires us NOT to do something – namely, to refrain from eating blood. Yet, the reward of a good life for oneself and one’s children is predicated on DOING what is right in the eyes of G-d, even though there is no actual deed associated with fulfilling this mitzvah.

The question then is whether the reward in this case is granted for doing the right thing, or for not doing the wrong thing, and how the two are related.
There is a statement in the Talmud (Kiddushin, 39B), which says that when someone refrains from doing the wrong thing, his spiritual reward is on par with having actually performed a positive commandment.
When someone holds back from delivering a really exciting piece of gossip, her reward for NOT speaking is equal to her reward for actually DOING a positive mitzvah.
I wish some aspects of physical reward worked the same way as spiritual reward. Imagine if by refraining from eating a custard doughnut we´d actually burn as many calories as if we had a full work out?! We do try our best, tho. We order 2 slices of pizza and a whole serving of french fries...but we get it with a Diet Coke, so it sorta cancels out...right?
But anyway, Rashi takes this concept a step further: If the Torah rewards a person for not doing something most people find repulsive in the first place, such as eating blood, we can imagine how much more merit a person would receive when overcoming a temptation that is powerful and readily available.
Of course, each individual is unique. One person’s challenge is another person’s child’s play. As such, the reward we receive is measured according to our own personal struggle. This is the meaning of the Mishnah in Pirkei Avos,  “According to the effort, so is the reward.” The determining factor is not just actions, but also the sacrifice and struggle involved in doing the right thing or refraining from acting improperly.
As a side note, this is also why it´s unfair to place judgement on or to examine and determine the actions of others. It may seem obvious or easy to us, but it might be a very difficult challenge for them. And the opposite, as well. Something hard for us may be a breeze for someone else.
So, NOT doing something, is equal to DOING something.
We spend much of our lives focusing on doing things. What am i doing today? What am I doing this summer? What am I doing with my life? What am I doing with my talents?
These are all super- powerful questions that must be addressed in order to accomplish our tasks in life. But there´s another equally significant side to this that many of us don´t recognize.
What am I NOT doing today? What have I NOT done this summer? What am I NOT doing with my life? What am I NOT doing with my talents?
Super- powerful questions. With super- powerful answers.
In order to accomplish our goals, and in order to reach our full potential in life, we need to turn our focus from what I´m DOING, to include what I´m NOT doing. How many opportunities are passing me by? How many people am I not helping? How many of my gifts am I not using? How many lives have I not changed? By recognizing what I´m NOT doing, I´ll be able to DO a whole lot more.
 
Oh, and I totally recommend mocha, anyway.
 
¨Don´t judge me because I sin differently than you¨
 
Have a great shabbos!

The Transformers

Everyone, at some point in their lives, has been or will be asked to partake in a ´40 Event´. Although a costume party with silky buttoned up blouses, casual gloves and glossy pearls, with flouncy pin curls sounds like a lot of fun, the ´40 event´ I´m referring to has nothing to do with the 1940´s era. It means being part of a 40 person prayer group, challah baking group, Perek Shira group, etc...Or it can mean going to the Kotel for 40 days, reciting Shir Hashirim for 40 days, etc...
Has anyone ever wondered why 40? Why not 10, like a minyan? Or 18, for chai? Or 324 for chai times chai? Why 40? What´s the significance of the number 40? What makes it special? What makes it worthy of bringing about the result we desire?
Throughout the Torah, we see numerous times how the number 40 creates a transformation of some sort. We´ll start with this weeks parsha, Eikev.
The Jews are nearing the end of their 40 year desert tour. Moshe warns them about potential pitfalls they may encounter in their new lives as a Jewish nation, and he details the rewards that are in store for them, should they follow the Torah properly.

40 years in the dessert. 40 years were necessary in order to transform the Jewish people from a nation of slavery, into a nation of freedom.
During that time, Moshe went on a 40 day heavenly retreat, literally up to heaven, to  acquire the Torah for us. Those 40 days were needed in order to transform the Jews from a regular nation of the world, into the Chosen Nation.
Going back in history for a minute, we recall another significant 40. The 40 days of the Mabul, the Flood! The 40 days and nights of relentless rain, erased the world of evil and transformed that world into a brand new one.
Ever wonder why the first 40 days of a woman´s pregnancy is the most vulnerable? And why one can pray for a specific gender for up to 40 days? And in extreme cases where an abortion is needed, a Rav will giver the woman a heter just until the 40th day. Why 40? Because there are 40 days from when a baby is conceived until the soul is introduced, transforming it from a regular body, to a spiritual being.
So the concept of bringing 40 people together to pray or to perform a mitzva, is to be able to create some sort of transformation in that particular situation. If someone is c¨v sick, we want to transform them into health. If someone is childless, we want to transform them into a parent. The list of transformations we desire is endless.
So... really? That´s all it takes? Just gather the 40, sing a little shir hamaalos, and we´re done? We´ve become The Transformers?
I thought it was as simple as that, until I read the parsha this week. Moshe is reminding the Jewish People of the incident of the Golden Calf. What was the point of the review? They´re past it already. They´ve moved on. Why the reminder?
When Moshe had ascended upstairs to receive the Torah, the 40 day period was meant to be one of spiritual and psychological growth on a personal and individual level, to prepare themselves to be the recipients of the Torah. Upon his descent, Moshe saw the Golden Calf, constructed to replace him, indicating a strong fault in character and a major lack in their spiritual development. They had NOT transformed themselves into the people they needed to be. They had NOT become the people worthy of living in the Holy Land and following God´s word.
Hence the following 40 years in the desert. When God realized how unable we were to transform ourselves into the people we needed to be as individuals, He decided He needed to transform us completely, as a nation. This generation will not be able to go into Eretz Yisrael and live their new, spiritually elevated lives there; they needed to wait for a generation change. The ultimate transformation. 40 years later, the new generation had proved that they were able to transform into the spiritual beings they needed to be in order to truly become The Chosen Nation.
So, gathering the 40 is step one. A very important one. But the only way for the power of the 40 to create the proper transformation is by each individual working to create his or her own personal psychological and spiritual transformation.

A Grave Mitzva

Have any of you seen the movie The Ten Commandments? If you liked the movie, you would LOVE the book! To read the original and authentic version, open up the chumash to the sedra this week, Véschanan. All ten are fascinating, interesting, and beneficial to all of us, but we're gonna focus on just one of them. Honor thy father and mother. Did you know that kibud av vaem is the only commandment that  requires of us to respect it after death too? No, this isn´t a horror film; the dead person remains in the grave at all times. What I mean is that even a parent who dies must still be treated with and spoken about with the same respect as if they were alive.
Who do we know that was famous for his kibud av vaem? The first person is Esav. Then there's the famous story of Dama Ben Nisina. What do these two people have in common besides possessing strange names? They were both not Jewish. Interestingly, the only people mentioned in the Torah for their outstanding behavior towards their parents, are non Jews. How could it be that the one commandment that we are obligated to follow during life and death is not even being fulfilled properly by Jews- only by the other nations?

So there's a machlokes- argument in the gemorah about the complications of the mitzva of kidub horim. Rav Yochanan said 'lucky is the person who's an orphan'. This statement was alluding to the fact that the mitzva of kibud av vaem is the most difficult mitzva in the Torah.
There's another gemorah that says that fulfilling this mitzva properly is so hard, that it's better not to have been born at all. This is so weird, because nowhere else do we see the Torah speaking this way. Is it also better to be born without an arm so we don't have to wear tefillin? Or without knees so we don't have to cover them? Why is this commandment so especially hard for Jews to do, but the non Jews can excel at it?Let's hear the MAHARAL'S perspective on this.

We were brought into this world by our parents. Without them, we wouldn't be. I know its hard to picture the world without us, but it would go on even with that loss. We owe our parents everything, plus tax, for bringing us here.  One of the most fundamental aspects of Judaism is the knowledge that we are presently living in a temporary world, walking through it in order to get to the real world.
But, there's only one person that will be responsible for your entrance into the next world. Not Dad. Not Mom. Not G-d. Only YOU.
The other nations of the world, generally are born to eat pepperoni pizza and Big Macs. They live for discos and Hummers and romance. Well, they came to the right place! They are created and brought into THE world. This is the place they live for. Therefore, they are overflowing with gratitude to their parents for bringing them to the world of their dreams. There is no other way they could've entered.
The Jews, however, were brought into this world, where we spend all our waking hours living for the next world. Even while eating pizza and driving Hummers, we're supposed to be focusing on and striving toward our eternal life in the real world. And that's haaaaard. But, since we're just paying rent here and not buying a permanent home, we're not so full of gratitude to our parents, because we're not really that thrilled to be here.
Our parents have nothing to do with our entrance to the next world. Only we do. And that's the world we're living for. So, we have a more difficult time respecting them and honoring them than the others have.

But, since we could never get to our eternal home without first passing thru here, it´s imperative to recognize everything our parents did for us and continue to do for us- from giving us life, to the constant physical and emotional support they supply us with, the list will have no beginning and no end. Therefore, the respect that we should have for them is equally limitless- and that's why the mitzva extends into the grave.

"Children are a great comfort in your old age - and they help you reach it faster, too" :)
Have a great shabbos!

The Good-bye Party

Parshas Devarim
The desert tour is just about over. After 40 hot, sweaty years of travel, Moshe is wrapping things up in preparation for his retirement. It's strange, though, that instead of ending these trips the usual way, with an inspiring, slightly off-tune kumzitz,  and with everyone posing cheesy smiles for 500 cameras and swapping email addresses, Moshe had another method of saying goodbye. He got up and started giving over 40 years of pent up criticism to the Jewish people. During all these years he just smiled casually at their shortcomings and mistakes, and now, at the end of it all, he opens up the bottle and let's it all out. He spoke to them about Korach's rebellion, about the sin of the Golden Calf, and other not good stuff. Doesn't sound like a very inspiring ending for a rather inspiring journey.

Actually, this was ingenious. Not only that, but it's such a powerful lesson learned from a true leader.

Moshe purposely saved it for now. Because criticism is all nice and dandy, but it has to be given under certain conditions, and timed precisely, in order for the message to be constructive, and not destructive. If the receiving party is left angry, hurt, or defensive- it's better not to bring it up altogether, but if we really wanna help them, we have to know the how and when. Moshe, being completely in touch with his people, clearly realized that the moment was now, and not sooner (or later for that matter, since it would've been a bit freaky to hear it from him  after his death).

The Rambam writes that there are 3 steps to delivering proper criticism:
1: It must be done in privacy and never ever in public. Sometimes we tend to purposely admonish others publicly, just to glorify our own power. Like when an employer feels compelled to show his employees who's boss around here by yelling at a worker in front of everyone. Thumbs down.
2: While rebuking, we must stress the positive and not the negative.
There's a possuk in mishlei that states: Al tochach letz, pen yisnaecha, hochach l'chochom v'yeehavcha. Don't give mussar to a cynical person (you know who that is- every shul has one of those) because he'll just hate you, but give mussar to a wise person and he'll love you.This seems to be pretty logical. A cynical person devalues everything. He lives life in a bowl of cherries and spits the pits out on anyone passing by. Therefore, there's a low probability of him taking your words to heart and trying to improve himself. A wise man, however, wants to improve, and therefore welcomes criticism. Sort of like someone who's beauty conscious and wants to look their best. She'll buy the most magnifying mirror with the sharpest lighting in order to find every blackhead, whitehead and blemish, so she can get rid of them and improve her complexion.

The shlah hakadosh derives a fascinating insight from this possuk in mishlei quoted above.He says to shift the commas around and put emphasis on different words. Listen to this carefully.
Al tochach, letz.- don't criticize someone by calling him a letz- don't tell someone
"You idiot!" 
"you're so stupid"
 "what's wrong with you?!?"
Or any other lovely negative expression- cuz it aint gonna work- pen yisnaecha- he's just gonna hate you.
But, hochach l'chochom- tell him he's achochom  - tell him how smart he is, how good he is, or any other creative positive expression  - v'yeehavecha- and he'll love you. This is the only way to receive the results you're hoping for.
3: You must have the persons' best interest in mind. There may not be any ulterior motives here. No anger, no personal benefit... nothing other than the persons' best interest.

Moshe realized, based on their situation, that now, at the end of the trip, and right before his death was the best time for the mussar. He knew they would listen intently since these were his dying words. He knew they wouldn't have to face him in the future, so there was no embarrassment. He knew that if there any positive changes, they wouldn't be changing for him, since he wouldn't see it anyway, but for themselves. For these reasons, and others, Moshe thought the situation through and timed his criticism perfectly.

Many times throughout our lives we find ourselves in a position to give  criticism to another person. Let's make sure it'll always be constructive and not destructive. 

Just as a side point, on the other end of the spectrum, we have the issue of how to receive criticism. Many of us take a lesson from the weather- we don't pay any attention to criticism. Mussar is a hard thing to accept- it's hard on our egos, it's hard on our emotions... but if we can't acknowledge and accept our shortcomings and  mistakes, there's  zero chance of improvement and growth.  Let's hope people will rebuke us in the correct manner, but whether they do or don't, we have a responsibility to take it to heart- whether taking it with a grain of salt, or removing from it a grain of salt. It's for our benefit.


Have a great shabbos!

Am I A Murderer?

PARSHAS MATOS- MASAY
One of the themes in the sedra this week (Masay) are the Cities of Refuge, the arai miklat. These are special cities where entry is allowed only by someone who's guilty of accidental murder. The reason these cities were founded was not only to escape the perhaps revengeful hand of the victim's pained family. But, also because people who belong there are generally good, straight individuals who committed these unforgivable crimes completely by mistake, and were so torn and broken about it that they just didn't know what to do with themselves or where to go. 

The  Chidushei HaRim explains that when someone in klal yisrael hurts someone, even unintentionally, he naturally feels full of pain and guilt. In fact, he'll be so broken that he'll feel as if he has no place in the world for him to go. That's why Hashem is offering him this City Of Refuge- a safe cove for him to hide in until the passing of the Kohen Gadol which served as the dismissal bell.

I have a friend who, a couple of years ago, at the age of 28 had 6 kids under the age of 10. May she live and be well. One day, her husband went into the hospital for a very minor, uncomplicated sinus procedure, where he was in the hands of a skilled doctor. During the surgery, though, the doctor accidentally touched a wrong nerve which caused bleeding in his eye. While trying to fix that, he shifted the bleeding and caused his patient a serious brain hemorrhage. He remained in the hospital, completely relying on life support, in a vegetative state, for the last few months of his life.
The point of bringing you this tragic story was not just to be a carrier of bad news. No way. It's because the doctor, a fine, honest, caring Jew, was so beside himself with pain and guilt that he just didn't, and still doesn't know where to put himself. He wants to run. He wants to hide. He wants to cry. He wants to repent. When I was reading the parsha this week, I understood a little better how important it is to have these cities of refuge for people who are guilty- but purely by accident.

Now, there's a catch here. Yes, the cities of refuge are a wonderful thing for people. But, it only helps if a person really feels remorse and pain. It only benefits a person who is so shattered by what he did that he feels there is no place in the world for him to go.  Someone who's not touched or moved too deeply by his mistake will not find consolation or benefit in any way from going there.
Why??
Because when you harm someone in any way, and you deeply regret it, this can be something very positive and beneficial. It can motivate you to improve. It can encourage you to be more careful next time. Even when we do things by accident, there's a high chance that if we would have been just that much more careful, it wouldn't have happened. So if the guilty feeling brings one to be more attentive or less negligent in the future, there will definitely be a positive outcome from their mistake. And that's what the arei miklat are for. To help deal with the guilty party's emotions and help him become a person who's more conscious and careful.

Thank G-d most of us aren't actually killing anybody, but we sure do hurt people in many other ways. We don't have a City Of Refuge for that, nor do we need one. But let's at least try to feel guilty when we do, and try to turn those feelings into greater consciousness and alertness.

Someone once went to the Steipler Gaon and asked him for a bracha that he should be found innocent in court for a  violation of a traffic law. Instead of giving him a blessing, the Steipler admonished him, saying "If you violated a traffic law, you're endangering the lives of other people. Therefore, you are deserving  of the greatest punishment."
We hurt people with words and with actions. Ironically, we also hurt people with a lack of words and a lack of action.
This weeks parsha teaches us AWARENESS. To recognize when  we have caused someone pain and to feel so bad about that mistake, that we will not repeat it again in the future.

Have a great shabbos!