Thursday, October 25, 2012

Making Aliyah?

Imagine packing up your life and moving to a new country after your 70th wedding anniversary? Well, in February of this year Phillip (95) and Dorothy (93) Grossman of Baltimore did just that and became the oldest married couple to make aliyah. Considering that our forefather Avraham was 75 (and Sarah 65) when they packed for the Holy Land, apparently the Grossmans are now the reigning Aliyah champions.
In fairness though, Avraham and Sarah didn't have the Aliyah Department arrange their flight, shipment of personal effects or new apartment in Rechavia. No welcoming committee picked them up upon arrival in Canaan. So, maybe Avraham and Sarah can still claim credit for immense dedication and faith for having uprooted their lives to start over at an age when they should have been retiring.
The truth is, Avraham and Sarah didn't just make aliyah, they made Aliyah. 
Literally, the term means "uplitfment" or "ascent". Moving to Israel is no simple relocation, it is a spiritual upgrade (or at least, it's meant to be). Talmudic geography notes that you travel up to  Israel, regardless of where you're coming from. That's because Israel is loftier (not topographically higher) than any other country. After all, it is called the Holy Land (and not just by Jews). Emigrating to Israel is meant to be about more than landing  a villa in Raanana; it's supposed to be a journey of discovery, growth and increased Jewish dedication.
Aliyah means that you are uplifted by the process.
Now, how did Israel become a Holy Land? What process transformed it from desert to Divine embassy? You can thank Avraham and Sarah for that. They literally made aliyah, not just the upliftment of themselves, but the upliftment of the land too. They dedicated their lives to making an ordinary location into a place of learning, of discovering G-d and of improved personal conduct. Most people at that time were wholly disinterested in Avraham and Sarah's teachings, but in due course this unique couple garnered a huge following (consider how many religions trace their roots to Abrahamic principles). 
We don't read the stories of our forefathers to discover what they did; we read them to learn what we should be doing.
A chossid once approached the third Lubavitcher Rebbe, the Tzemach Tzedek, to ask his blessing to move to Israel. The Tzemach Tzedek responded "mach doh Eretz Yisroel" (make here into Israel). Israel equals holy country. G-d engineered history to ensure that Jews would land up scattered in the other "unholy" countries so that we could impact them and upgrade them to become Israel-esque. We're living in Joburg at the moment so that we can help Joburg make Aliyah.
Avraham and Sarah started their area-upgrade years before G-d told them to up and go to Canaan. In fact, it was in response to their efforts to imbue the world with spirituality that G-d gave them a holy land. By us upgrading the neighbourhoods we live in, we pave the way for G-d to give us the full-scale version of the Holy Land that will only be unveiled when Moshiach comes, please G-d immediately.

Friday, October 19, 2012

Stepping out...

After all these festival-disrupted weeks, five consecutive days of work can feel arduously long. It's like we've plummeted faster than Felix Baumgartner from the high of Yom Tov into the humdrum of the rat-race. 

When we'll read the Noah's Ark story on Shabbos, it may well resonate with our own feelings of being flooded with work backlogs or the rush to meet end-of-year deadlines. In a sense, last month felt a little like the secure, protected environment of the Ark- where the tempest around you doesn't really bother you. This week we face the chaos again. 

One intriguing point about the Noah's Ark story is that G-d had to tell Noah and his family to leave the Ark and regain their position in the world once the waters had receded. You would have expected that, after 365 cramped days of living on top of each other and scores of animals, the people would have leaped out into the open air as soon as the safety hatch was opened. 

Yet, nobody moved and G-d Himself had to coax them out. 

When El Al lands in Tel Aviv after hours in the air, the passengers are out of their seats and headed for the door as the wheels touch the tarmac. Yet, the Noah family- who had been at sea (is it called "at sea"?) for a year- did not budge even after the door had been opened. 

Truth is, who could blame them? 

In the Ark they had lived a miraculous experience (How else do you explain feeding elephants for a year? And how else do you account for all the impalas coming off the boat alive, considering the lions were kept just metres away?). 

As soon as they would step out of the Ark, they would have to take on that dreaded thing called work

Life in the Ark was a holiday, but stepping back into the outdoors would mean getting their hands dirty, shouldering responsibility and setting themselves up for disappointments. 

Inside the Ark, everyone felt connected and together. Once back in the "real" world, they could expect to feel alone. 

Human nature seeks the path of least resistance. Human achievement is about facing and overcoming challenges. Impulse says "stay where it's warm and secure and predictable". Human spirit says "step out into the cold and barren outdoors and make it warm and secure". 

Noah and his family may have imagined that they would have felt happy had they stayed in their floating refuge, but G-d knew that they could only feel fulfilled once they ventured out to make a difference. So, He schlepped them back into the realm of responsibility. 

Since then, human nature still pulls us to stay under the covers and look after ourselves. But, all human achievement only begins when we pull those covers back, step our of our comfort zone and do something to give to the world, rather than to wait to discover what the world has to give us.

Stepping out...


After all these festival-disrupted weeks, five consecutive days of work can feel arduously long. It's like we've plummeted faster than Felix Baumgartner from the high of Yom Tov into the humdrum of the rat-race. When we'll read the Noah's Ark story on Shabbos, it may well resonate with our own feelings of being flooded with work backlogs or the rush to meet end-of-year deadlines.
In a sense, last month felt a little like the secure, protected environment of the Ark- where the tempest around you doesn't really bother you. This week we face the chaos again.
One intriguing point about the Noah's Ark story is that G-d had to tell Noah and his family to leave the Ark and regain their position in the world once the waters had receded. You would have expected that, after 365 cramped days of living on top of each other and scores of animals, the people would have leapt out into the open air as soon as the safety hatch was opened. Yet, nobody moved and G-d Himself had to coax them out.
When El Al lands in Tel Aviv after nine hours in the air, the passengers are out of their seats and headed for the door as the wheels touch the tarmac. Yet, the Noah family- who had been at sea (is it called a sea?) for a year- did not budge even after the door had been opened. 
Who could blame them? In the Ark they had lived a miraculous experience (How else do you explain feeding elephants for a year? And how else do you account for all the impalas coming off the boat alive, considering the lions were kept just metres away?). As soon as they would step out of the Ark, they would have to take on that dreaded thing called work. Life in the Ark was a holiday, but stepping back into the outdoors would mean getting their hands dirty, shouldering responsibilty and setting themselves up for disappointments.
Inside the Ark, everyone felt connected and together. Once back in the "real" world, they could expect to feel alone. 
Human nature seeks the path of least resistance. Human achievement is about facing and overcoming challenges. Impulse says "stay where its warm and secure and predictable". Human spirit says "step out into the cold and barren outdoors and make it warm and secure".
Noah and his family may have imagined that they would have felt happy had they stayed in their floating refuge, but G-d knew that they could only feel fulfilled once they ventured out to make a difference. So, He schlepped them back into the realm of responsibility.
Since then, human nature still pulls us to stay under the covers and look after ourselves. But, all human achievement only begins when we pull those covers back, step our of our comfort zone and do something to give to the world, rather than to wait to discover what the world has to give us.