Yesterday was Gimmel Tammuz, the 3rd of Tammuz, the day that the Rebbe left us physically. A Tzaddik never leaves, his guidance and inspiration remains with us always, but we’re simple people and we need to see and hear a person to relate to them.
Gimmel Tammuz became famous long before the Rebbe. 3284 years ago it marked the date when Joshua suspended the sun in midair so he could rout a band of enemies who had attacked the Jews’ allies, the Gibeonites. G-d could have chosen any of a host of miracles to keep the battlefield lit long enough for Joshua to defeat the attackers. By choosing to stop the sun, Hashem set the tone for this unusual day- the third of Tammuz.
We Chassidim were spoiled, inspired and guided by the Rebbe through life’s every step for over forty years. The Rebbe was an expert teacher, weaving tapestries of Torah that intrigue the greatest Jewish minds until today. The Rebbe was a revolutionary, prodding us on to achieve what we were certain was light-years beyond our abilities. The Rebbe was a prophet, predicting the unexpected twists and turns of an ever-changing world. The Rebbe was a father, caring for the disenchanted Jew and the Israeli politician and the Chareidi scholar and the rebellious teen.
We were the fortunate followers, swept up in the raging tide of the Rebbe’s energy. A world without the Rebbe’s presence and guidance was unthinkable. Gimmel Tammuz surprised us completely, challenged our thinking and forced us to reassess our role.
But, the Rebbe had prepared us for that day and its subsequent reality. He had coached us through it from his inaugural address through to the last discourse he distributed. Again and again the Rebbe argued that a righteous individual- Moshe on the banks of the Jordan, Rabbi Shimon bar Yochai in ancient Israel or the Rebbe in New York- could have single-handedly achieved G-d’s mission for Life and brought Moshiach. But, that would defeat the purpose of Creation.
Hashem made an imperfect world for us ordinary people to fix. We don’t believe we can do it and prefer to defer to the greats of our nation, to let them guide us. Our great sages believe in us more than we do- not only did they trust that we could follow their instructions, but they believed we could even see our own way clear to fulfilling Hashem’s dream.
Just less than a year before the Rebbe took ill, he announced that he had done all he needed to for Moshiach to come and that he was handing the task over to us. On Gimmel Tammuz, the sun of the Jewish nation went still. The sun is still there, illuminating our path, but it has paused, waiting for us to win the battle.
We are an empowered people who can and must rise to the occasion and quite literally change our world. That may sound like a big ask, but one step in that direction is actually all we need. When G-d sees us recognize our potential and step up to the plate, He will push “play”, hopefully right away.
Friday, June 26, 2009
"Bad Jews"
Korach was a rogue, a rabble-rouser who challenged the rabbis of his time and everything Judaism held dear. Korach’s call for reform attracted hundreds of the Israelites’ best and brightest. They gathered, cried foul and insisted on change.
But, Korach and his anti-establishment crew all died in a public show of G-d’s support for His leadership structure, swallowed by the earth in front of the whole community. Ever since, Korach’s name evokes echoes of rebellion and disrespect. He is the paragon “bad Jew”.
It should surprise you, then, to find his name in lights. The Torah names the portion describing Korach’s uprising after him! King Solomon taught us to obliterate the names of the wicked and we usually relegate the rogues of history to obscurity, stamping out their memory. Here, we give Korach a platform that even Moses does not get- a Parsha named for him.
Korach’s uprising may appear to be a jealous spat targeting his cousins, Moses and Aaron, who got it all. On closer inspection, you can detect a wistful ambition for spiritual advancement in Korach. The irony of Korach is that he had the right motives, he just did not know what to with them.
His contention was that every Jew is holy and every Jew should be able to attain the coveted position of Kohen Gadol- high priest. Moses even agreed with his sentiment, responding that he, too, wished to become High Priest, but that G-d created systems and job allocations that we need to accept.
Korach knew something else- in the Messianic Age the Levites (he was one) would serve as kohanim, as priests. He wished to fast-track the process and become a kohen there and then.
When the Torah named this portion Korach, it wanted to teach us that yearning for a higher spiritual platform is a virtue. You only need to ensure that you keep idealis
m in check, or you could go off the rails as Korach ultimately did.
The Lubavitcher Rebbe teaches that this portion holds a vital lesson on how to view “bad Jews”. People often write off the rebels within our Jewish community. Traditionalists recoil at free-thinkers who reinterpret Judaism against convention; who vie for roles that Orthodoxy bars them from.
Rather than rush to condemn, the Torah wants us to recognize the Korach-like yearning to participate that every Jew feels. Not every Jew expresses that wish; not every Jew knows what do with it. Every Jew has it.
Each of us needs to nurture the yearning for greater spiritual participation that we feel and that others feel. We also need to learn how best to channel that want, so that its passion can spiritually uplift us rather than distract us.
This week we commemorate the Lubavitcher Rebbe (Thursday, the third of Tammuz, is the Rebbe’s yahrtzeit), someone whose life-mission epitomizes recognizing the soul-thirst that every Jew has and innovating methods to grow it into proper focused spiritual success.
We would all do well to emulate his example, and cultivate the spark within the Korachs we encounter.
But, Korach and his anti-establishment crew all died in a public show of G-d’s support for His leadership structure, swallowed by the earth in front of the whole community. Ever since, Korach’s name evokes echoes of rebellion and disrespect. He is the paragon “bad Jew”.
It should surprise you, then, to find his name in lights. The Torah names the portion describing Korach’s uprising after him! King Solomon taught us to obliterate the names of the wicked and we usually relegate the rogues of history to obscurity, stamping out their memory. Here, we give Korach a platform that even Moses does not get- a Parsha named for him.
Korach’s uprising may appear to be a jealous spat targeting his cousins, Moses and Aaron, who got it all. On closer inspection, you can detect a wistful ambition for spiritual advancement in Korach. The irony of Korach is that he had the right motives, he just did not know what to with them.
His contention was that every Jew is holy and every Jew should be able to attain the coveted position of Kohen Gadol- high priest. Moses even agreed with his sentiment, responding that he, too, wished to become High Priest, but that G-d created systems and job allocations that we need to accept.
Korach knew something else- in the Messianic Age the Levites (he was one) would serve as kohanim, as priests. He wished to fast-track the process and become a kohen there and then.
When the Torah named this portion Korach, it wanted to teach us that yearning for a higher spiritual platform is a virtue. You only need to ensure that you keep idealis
m in check, or you could go off the rails as Korach ultimately did.The Lubavitcher Rebbe teaches that this portion holds a vital lesson on how to view “bad Jews”. People often write off the rebels within our Jewish community. Traditionalists recoil at free-thinkers who reinterpret Judaism against convention; who vie for roles that Orthodoxy bars them from.
Rather than rush to condemn, the Torah wants us to recognize the Korach-like yearning to participate that every Jew feels. Not every Jew expresses that wish; not every Jew knows what do with it. Every Jew has it.
Each of us needs to nurture the yearning for greater spiritual participation that we feel and that others feel. We also need to learn how best to channel that want, so that its passion can spiritually uplift us rather than distract us.
This week we commemorate the Lubavitcher Rebbe (Thursday, the third of Tammuz, is the Rebbe’s yahrtzeit), someone whose life-mission epitomizes recognizing the soul-thirst that every Jew has and innovating methods to grow it into proper focused spiritual success.
We would all do well to emulate his example, and cultivate the spark within the Korachs we encounter.
Thursday, June 18, 2009
Whether you think you can or you think you can’t, you’re right.
Sunday, 14 June 2009- South Africa is on fire; cars zoom by trailing red, blue and green, Joburgers smile at each other. You can hear our anthem hummed at the supermarket, punctuated with vuvuzela blasts. We are the host nation!
Monday, 15 June 2009- Joburg is gloomy. Our hearts flutter with the forlorn flags. Vuvuzelas whisper the reality: Bafana will never make it.
Thursday, 18 June 2009- Yes, there is hope. 2-0!
After Bafana’s dismal showing against Iraq, there was a flurry of told-you-so’s. We all knew our team was sub-standard and were disappointed, but not surprised at their weak leg-work. Today, the die-hard patriots are warning against writing SA soccer off prematurely. Saturday night will tell who’s right, when our national team takes on one of soccer’s giants.
Just hours before the whistle, we’ll be at Shul, reading the secret of winning that match. More importantly, we’ll read the secret of winning the matches we play daily in our lives.
G-d took the Jews out of Egypt with the promise of a land. Every promise He had made to us, he kept. He guaranteed that He would take us out of Egypt, get us across the sea and miraculously care for us in the desert. He delivered every time.
To enter the Promised Land, He wanted the people to work out how they could succeed. G-d resisted playing Guide and allowed them to try figure it out. It should have been their crowning moment. They should have understood that He wasn’t abandoning them, only maturing them. But, they missed it. Rather than believing in themselves as their Maker did, they doubted.
They considered the goal, to take over a land occupied by pagans and transform it into a haven of holiness and hesitated. Impossible!
As soon as they declared the mission impossible, it became impossible. They could no longer enter that land and, instead, died in the desert. Only their children, who were naive enough to believe in miracles, went on to create the miracle of the Promised Land.
Bafana may or may not make it through to the semis., but if they see themselves as winners they stand a chance.
We have an advantage, G-d has assured us of success in our spiritual endeavors. If we only trust that we can succeed, we will.
Sunday, June 14, 2009
Get rich quick schemes
Bernie Madoff rocked the financial world last December when his $50 billion Ponzi scheme was exposed. Last week, South Africa uncovered its own ponzi mastermind and the smouldering trail of the billions that he took from investors.
South Africa's Jewish community is hurting as many have lost huge sums in this scam. Some have lost everything. People are shocked at how what looked like a watertight investment, proposed by a decent guy was really a skilfully contrived money-sucking plot.
I suppose this is one of those times to be grateful if you don't have much money. Nobody approached me to invest in this "amazing opportunity".
Timing is everything and G-d always designs events to happen around Torah portions that help you understand what has happened- or at least what you should learn from it.
Yesterday's Torah portion (which we read just hours after the story broke) describes the dangers of greed and worse, of expecting too-good-to-be-true returns on investment. It recalls how the Jews complained to Moses about the food he provided for them in the desert. Now, Jews complaining about food is not too unusual (after all, waiters at kosher restaurants often ask the patrons during the meal if anything is ok), but this fuss went beyond the norm.
Jews in the desert ate manna, a spiritual food that tasted like anything you could imagine and was nutrionally balanced to perfection. Still, that apparently wasn't enough and the Children of Israel insisted they needed meat. Moses wasn't happy, and neither was G-d who warned that the meat would come, but at a hefty price. With meat still stuck between their teeth, the carnivorous faction all died.
Lesson 1: When you have what you need and are still greedy for more, beware! As attractive as it may seem, greed always comes back to bite.
Even more intriguing than their urge to replace manna with meat was the line of argument the rabble-rousers used. "We remember the fish that we ate in Egypt for free!" they exclaimed.
For free? What higher price can there be than paying for something with your independence? They were slaves in Egypt, they paid with their lives for the "free" fish. Technically, the meals in Auschwitz were also free, but who would be as callous as to refer to them that way.
Rashi (the first commentary you consult to decode a Torah verse) solves the mystery. Nobody believed that the food in Egypt was free. They were saying that they missed eating for "free", without any moral responsibility.
Chassidic teachings develop the theme, stating that whatever appears to be "free" belongs to Egypt. Egypt is the antithesis of holiness. To attain spiritual meaning requires effort. Anything that comes too easily belongs to Egypt. It is treif.
If someone tells you to invest money and you will get near-immediate over-the-top returns for doing nothing, know that is Egypt speaking. It is treif.
If they assure you that you can fix your marriage by simply reading a book or attending a seminar, Egypt is at it again. When someone proposes that you can raise wholesome children in a few easy steps, he is coming at you from the Nile Delta. And let nobody assure you that erratic shul visits and an occasional shiur will mature your soul.
Anything valuable in life comes through effort. Nobody should try to convince you otherwise, because only nothing is for nothing.
South Africa's Jewish community is hurting as many have lost huge sums in this scam. Some have lost everything. People are shocked at how what looked like a watertight investment, proposed by a decent guy was really a skilfully contrived money-sucking plot.
I suppose this is one of those times to be grateful if you don't have much money. Nobody approached me to invest in this "amazing opportunity".
Timing is everything and G-d always designs events to happen around Torah portions that help you understand what has happened- or at least what you should learn from it.
Yesterday's Torah portion (which we read just hours after the story broke) describes the dangers of greed and worse, of expecting too-good-to-be-true returns on investment. It recalls how the Jews complained to Moses about the food he provided for them in the desert. Now, Jews complaining about food is not too unusual (after all, waiters at kosher restaurants often ask the patrons during the meal if anything is ok), but this fuss went beyond the norm.
Jews in the desert ate manna, a spiritual food that tasted like anything you could imagine and was nutrionally balanced to perfection. Still, that apparently wasn't enough and the Children of Israel insisted they needed meat. Moses wasn't happy, and neither was G-d who warned that the meat would come, but at a hefty price. With meat still stuck between their teeth, the carnivorous faction all died.
Lesson 1: When you have what you need and are still greedy for more, beware! As attractive as it may seem, greed always comes back to bite.
Even more intriguing than their urge to replace manna with meat was the line of argument the rabble-rousers used. "We remember the fish that we ate in Egypt for free!" they exclaimed.
For free? What higher price can there be than paying for something with your independence? They were slaves in Egypt, they paid with their lives for the "free" fish. Technically, the meals in Auschwitz were also free, but who would be as callous as to refer to them that way.
Rashi (the first commentary you consult to decode a Torah verse) solves the mystery. Nobody believed that the food in Egypt was free. They were saying that they missed eating for "free", without any moral responsibility.
Chassidic teachings develop the theme, stating that whatever appears to be "free" belongs to Egypt. Egypt is the antithesis of holiness. To attain spiritual meaning requires effort. Anything that comes too easily belongs to Egypt. It is treif.
If someone tells you to invest money and you will get near-immediate over-the-top returns for doing nothing, know that is Egypt speaking. It is treif.
If they assure you that you can fix your marriage by simply reading a book or attending a seminar, Egypt is at it again. When someone proposes that you can raise wholesome children in a few easy steps, he is coming at you from the Nile Delta. And let nobody assure you that erratic shul visits and an occasional shiur will mature your soul.
Anything valuable in life comes through effort. Nobody should try to convince you otherwise, because only nothing is for nothing.
Friday, June 12, 2009
How to heal yourself
Just the other day, the Hayom Yom (daily inspirational thought from the Rebbe) compared spiritual ailments to physical illness.
Before you can begin healing, it said, you need to admit you are unwell and identify the cause of the illness.
Here's a good example: http://tinyurl.com/lts4fy
I guess our challenge is to do for our souls what she did for her body.
Before you can begin healing, it said, you need to admit you are unwell and identify the cause of the illness.
Here's a good example: http://tinyurl.com/lts4fy
I guess our challenge is to do for our souls what she did for her body.
Don't throw it out
Joe Goldberg phones his stock broker in a panic. “Sell everything immediately,” he shouts into the phone. Joe’s broker is stunned and tries to dissuade Joe from making such a rash move. Seeing he is getting nowhere, the broker asks Joe what has prompted him to suddenly want to sell up.
“Well,” Joe explains, “For the last twenty years I’ve lied to my wife. She doesn’t trust the markets and forbade me from investing. So, whenever I’ve invested money, I’ve told her I was stuffing it into the mattress for safekeeping.”
“Ok,” the broker slowly replies, wondering where Joe was headed, “So, what’s the problem?”
“Well, you see,” Joe continues, “She’s just bought a new mattress- and they’re delivering it tomorrow!”
I heard this story less than a week ago, and smiled. Yesterday, I heard a bizarre real-life version of the same story. A woman in Tel Aviv - known simply as Annat- surprised her mother with a new mattress for her birthday, tossing her old one into the garbage. When mom arrived home, she was horrified. Over decades, she had stuffed $1 million of her savings into her tattered old bedding.
Now, the search is on at dozens of Israeli dumps and landfills, as the family hopes to recover the missing mattress.
Annat and her mom embody the Jewish story. Our zeides and bobbas painstakingly invested emotion and energy to create a heritage that would keep the next generation Jewish. Many of their children felt ashamed of the grey, worn and outdated “bed” their parents clung to. They threw it out and replaced it with a new-fangled, ergonomic version. And only then, when the old “mattress” was gone, did they appreciate what they had given up. Now the search is on- to recapture the treasure that our heritage offers.
If you have an “old mattress”, don’t rush to throw it out. If you don’t have one- start searching. You never know who will find it first.
“Well,” Joe explains, “For the last twenty years I’ve lied to my wife. She doesn’t trust the markets and forbade me from investing. So, whenever I’ve invested money, I’ve told her I was stuffing it into the mattress for safekeeping.”
“Ok,” the broker slowly replies, wondering where Joe was headed, “So, what’s the problem?”
“Well, you see,” Joe continues, “She’s just bought a new mattress- and they’re delivering it tomorrow!”
I heard this story less than a week ago, and smiled. Yesterday, I heard a bizarre real-life version of the same story. A woman in Tel Aviv - known simply as Annat- surprised her mother with a new mattress for her birthday, tossing her old one into the garbage. When mom arrived home, she was horrified. Over decades, she had stuffed $1 million of her savings into her tattered old bedding.
Now, the search is on at dozens of Israeli dumps and landfills, as the family hopes to recover the missing mattress.
Annat and her mom embody the Jewish story. Our zeides and bobbas painstakingly invested emotion and energy to create a heritage that would keep the next generation Jewish. Many of their children felt ashamed of the grey, worn and outdated “bed” their parents clung to. They threw it out and replaced it with a new-fangled, ergonomic version. And only then, when the old “mattress” was gone, did they appreciate what they had given up. Now the search is on- to recapture the treasure that our heritage offers.
If you have an “old mattress”, don’t rush to throw it out. If you don’t have one- start searching. You never know who will find it first.
Friday, June 05, 2009
(What) were you thinking?
In 1859, New York Congressman, Daniel Sickles gunned Philip Barton Key down in cold blood. Twenty-three years later, Charles J. Guiteau assassinated U.S. President James Garfield at a Boston railway station. The former was acquitted, the latter hanged. Both accused used the same line of defense- one that would become both notorious and intriguing: “temporary insanity”.
Had either case gone before a Beth Din, the judges would have laughed their defense right out of the courtroom. Judaism teaches that a person only ever does something wrong if they are temporarily insane, because a thinking Jew would naturally do as G-d wishes. The legal term for this is “shtus” or foolishness and the Talmud preaches that a person does not sin unless they have momentary shtus.
You might feel uncomfortable with the thought of lapsing into insanity a number of times a day (an hour?), but it really is a comforting notion.
We all know that we’re not perfect and that we mess up regularly. We promise ourselves that we will treat people better, keep the gossip down, learn more and grow spiritually. With all good intentions, much of the time we let ourselves down.
Some religions preach that messing up is part of being human; that we are inherently sinners, programmed to fail and destined to pay the price.
Judaism sees things completely differently. It teaches that we are innately spiritual and that spiritual success is programmed into our systems. When we mess up- regardless of how frequently that happens- we get up, dust ourselves off and move on.
You’ve surely stopped to ask yourself “what was I thinking” after behaving in a way that you know doesn’t suit you. In fact, you should probably acknowledge that “I wasn’t thinking”. Messing up happens when we stop thinking for a moment; when we lose our focus and succumb to shtus. Fixing that is merely a matter of getting back on task, refocusing our mind and getting in touch with our true self.
Judaism argues that getting it wrong is temporary and out of character. And easy to fix.
Had either case gone before a Beth Din, the judges would have laughed their defense right out of the courtroom. Judaism teaches that a person only ever does something wrong if they are temporarily insane, because a thinking Jew would naturally do as G-d wishes. The legal term for this is “shtus” or foolishness and the Talmud preaches that a person does not sin unless they have momentary shtus.
You might feel uncomfortable with the thought of lapsing into insanity a number of times a day (an hour?), but it really is a comforting notion.
We all know that we’re not perfect and that we mess up regularly. We promise ourselves that we will treat people better, keep the gossip down, learn more and grow spiritually. With all good intentions, much of the time we let ourselves down.
Some religions preach that messing up is part of being human; that we are inherently sinners, programmed to fail and destined to pay the price.
Judaism sees things completely differently. It teaches that we are innately spiritual and that spiritual success is programmed into our systems. When we mess up- regardless of how frequently that happens- we get up, dust ourselves off and move on.
You’ve surely stopped to ask yourself “what was I thinking” after behaving in a way that you know doesn’t suit you. In fact, you should probably acknowledge that “I wasn’t thinking”. Messing up happens when we stop thinking for a moment; when we lose our focus and succumb to shtus. Fixing that is merely a matter of getting back on task, refocusing our mind and getting in touch with our true self.
Judaism argues that getting it wrong is temporary and out of character. And easy to fix.
Thursday, May 28, 2009
Do you echo?
You know that feeling when you stop at a Joburg intersection and a taxi pulls up next to you, heavy bass booming from his radio, into your car, through your chest and stomach and out the other side? That is a sampling of what the Jews felt like at Mt. Sinai.
When G-d’s voice blasted the Ten Commandments at us from all six directions, it produced the most powerful sound every heard by humans. G-d’s thundering announcements hurled the people hundreds of metres backwards, knocking their souls our of their bodies. G-d had to dispatch an emergency angel team to revive them and bring them back to the foot of the mountain.
Every nation in the region quaked from the intense sound. Birds stopped chirping, animals froze and nature paused as the Divine sonic boom overwhelmed them all.
But, the powerful noise did not echo.
If you have ever visited the Sinai, you will know how stark and rocky it is. In that stony, sandy environment, you would think that every sound should echo, certainly a very loud one. Why did G-d’s voice defy nature and not reverberate?
The simple science of echoes might help us understand. Noise is really a series of sound-waves that emit from a source. If those sound-waves hit an obstacle that will not absorb them, they bounce back in the direction they came from. This is an echo.
Torah and its directives are designed for the real world. G-d does not want us to escape normal life to attain spirituality; He wants us to embed holiness within the normal life that we live. In other words, He intended His message to sink in to the world, not to bounce off its surface. If His message had echoed, it would have implied that it was too spiritual and could not be absorbed by our world.
On Shavuos you should ask yourself: “Do I echo?”
When G-d’s voice blasted the Ten Commandments at us from all six directions, it produced the most powerful sound every heard by humans. G-d’s thundering announcements hurled the people hundreds of metres backwards, knocking their souls our of their bodies. G-d had to dispatch an emergency angel team to revive them and bring them back to the foot of the mountain.
Every nation in the region quaked from the intense sound. Birds stopped chirping, animals froze and nature paused as the Divine sonic boom overwhelmed them all.
But, the powerful noise did not echo.
If you have ever visited the Sinai, you will know how stark and rocky it is. In that stony, sandy environment, you would think that every sound should echo, certainly a very loud one. Why did G-d’s voice defy nature and not reverberate?
The simple science of echoes might help us understand. Noise is really a series of sound-waves that emit from a source. If those sound-waves hit an obstacle that will not absorb them, they bounce back in the direction they came from. This is an echo.
Torah and its directives are designed for the real world. G-d does not want us to escape normal life to attain spirituality; He wants us to embed holiness within the normal life that we live. In other words, He intended His message to sink in to the world, not to bounce off its surface. If His message had echoed, it would have implied that it was too spiritual and could not be absorbed by our world.
On Shavuos you should ask yourself: “Do I echo?”
Thursday, May 21, 2009
It's all a numbers game
“Not one, not two, not three...” anybody who has been at the morning minyan will know about counting the crowd and waiting for that 10th man to arrive.
The Jewish community seems obsessed with numbers: “How many members does your Shul have?” “How many people were at the talk last night?” “How many guests did the Goldbergs have at their son’s barmitzvah?”
Is Judaism simply a numbers game? Do we rate the value of an institution, event or family by how many followers they attract?
In the early days of Facebook, a friend of mine won a radio competition for having the most “friends” in Joburg. I doubt whether he knows more than half of them, but he’s winning the numbers game anyway.
There are two ways to count people: You could reduce each person to a simple number, a statistic in a census, a mark on a ballot paper or a cog in a massive machine. Just 65 years ago, one-third of our nation was demeaned into a faceless sea of numbered bodies.
Or you could count them like the attentive collector, who proudly counts his artifacts or diamonds again and again- with love.
Jews don’t count Jews. We dare not relegate our fellow to a simple number. Hence the “not one, not two” formula for figuring out how many minyan-makers are present. It reminds us that a person is not a number.
G-d does count Jews. He obviously knows how many of us there are, so He’s not counting for numbers’ sake. He counts us to express His love and pleasure, like one who relishes knowing exactly how much he has of what he loves.
We are expected to emulate Him, to always see the preciousness of our fellow Jew.
The Jewish community seems obsessed with numbers: “How many members does your Shul have?” “How many people were at the talk last night?” “How many guests did the Goldbergs have at their son’s barmitzvah?”
Is Judaism simply a numbers game? Do we rate the value of an institution, event or family by how many followers they attract?
In the early days of Facebook, a friend of mine won a radio competition for having the most “friends” in Joburg. I doubt whether he knows more than half of them, but he’s winning the numbers game anyway.
There are two ways to count people: You could reduce each person to a simple number, a statistic in a census, a mark on a ballot paper or a cog in a massive machine. Just 65 years ago, one-third of our nation was demeaned into a faceless sea of numbered bodies.
Or you could count them like the attentive collector, who proudly counts his artifacts or diamonds again and again- with love.
Jews don’t count Jews. We dare not relegate our fellow to a simple number. Hence the “not one, not two” formula for figuring out how many minyan-makers are present. It reminds us that a person is not a number.
G-d does count Jews. He obviously knows how many of us there are, so He’s not counting for numbers’ sake. He counts us to express His love and pleasure, like one who relishes knowing exactly how much he has of what he loves.
We are expected to emulate Him, to always see the preciousness of our fellow Jew.
Thursday, May 14, 2009
Are you really better than the next guy?
Reb Hillel of Paritch was a tremendous Torah scholar who “crossed the floor” and became a Chabad Chossid. Over the years, he became a dedicated student of the second and third of the Chabad Rebbes, but never managed to meet the Alter Rebbe, founder of Chabad.
It’s not that he hadn’t tried, but Providence ensured that each time he arrived in a town that the Alter Rebbe was visiting, he just missed the Tzadik by a day. Eventually, Reb Hillel researched the Rebbe’s movements ahead in advance and arrived in a small shtetl ahead of the Rebbe’s brief visit there.
To make sure he would not miss the chance to meet the Rebbe, he smuggled himself into the Rebbe’s room, hid under the bed and waited...
Excited by the prospect of meeting this great Torah personality, Reb Hillel had prepared some intricate questions on the obscure topic of “erchin” (the appraisal of people’s value to donate to the Temple) to pose to the Alter Rebbe.
As the Rebbe walked into the room, before Reb Hillel could move, he announced: “If a young man has a question regarding appraising people, he should first concentrate on appraising himself!”
Reb Hillel fainted; the Rebbe’s message had hit its mark. By the time he came to, the Rebbe had left and Reb Hillel never got to meet him.
A man once asked the fifth Lubavitcher Rebbe why he allocated so much of his time to simple Jews, when he could surely have better invested his time with scholars. The fellow happened to be a diamond merchant, so the Rebbe asked to see his stones.
As he looked through the collection, the Rebbe remarked that he didn’t see why a particular stone was so expensive, it seemed rather ordinary. The dealer patiently explained that, as an expert, he could see the value of a stone that an inexperienced person could not see.
“I,” said the Rebbe, “am an expert in people, I can see a value that you cannot...”
If we are unable to see that preciousness in the next Jew, it is ourselves we need to assess.
It’s not that he hadn’t tried, but Providence ensured that each time he arrived in a town that the Alter Rebbe was visiting, he just missed the Tzadik by a day. Eventually, Reb Hillel researched the Rebbe’s movements ahead in advance and arrived in a small shtetl ahead of the Rebbe’s brief visit there.
To make sure he would not miss the chance to meet the Rebbe, he smuggled himself into the Rebbe’s room, hid under the bed and waited...
Excited by the prospect of meeting this great Torah personality, Reb Hillel had prepared some intricate questions on the obscure topic of “erchin” (the appraisal of people’s value to donate to the Temple) to pose to the Alter Rebbe.
As the Rebbe walked into the room, before Reb Hillel could move, he announced: “If a young man has a question regarding appraising people, he should first concentrate on appraising himself!”
Reb Hillel fainted; the Rebbe’s message had hit its mark. By the time he came to, the Rebbe had left and Reb Hillel never got to meet him.
A man once asked the fifth Lubavitcher Rebbe why he allocated so much of his time to simple Jews, when he could surely have better invested his time with scholars. The fellow happened to be a diamond merchant, so the Rebbe asked to see his stones.
As he looked through the collection, the Rebbe remarked that he didn’t see why a particular stone was so expensive, it seemed rather ordinary. The dealer patiently explained that, as an expert, he could see the value of a stone that an inexperienced person could not see.
“I,” said the Rebbe, “am an expert in people, I can see a value that you cannot...”
If we are unable to see that preciousness in the next Jew, it is ourselves we need to assess.
Sunday, April 26, 2009
What I learned from Jacob Zuma
Like him or hate him, you've got to respect him. Jacob Zuma may have a checkered past, but he stole the hearts of South Africa and led the ANC to a landslide election victory last week.
I wouldn't advocate learning morals or honesty from Zuma, but here are a few things you can learn:
1. Don't limit yourself by what other say
Zuma stared down raging condemnation and campaigned his way to the country's top position.
As a Jew, you can expect plenty global criticism. Turn a blind eye and get on with what you know you need to do.
2. You don't have to know how it will all work out
I doubt whether JZ knew quite how he would wiggle out of his corruption trial. His skeleton-filled closet threatened to burst open right up until literally moments before the poll.
Today was the birthday of the fourth Lubavitcher Rebbe, whose motto was Lechatchila Ariber: Stay focused on your goal, put your head down and go for it. Don't waste time worrying about what could go wrong- just make it happen.
3. They don't care how much you know...
... but they know when you care. Zuma ousted the dispassionate and aloof, AIDS-denier Thabo Mbeki using his suave, people-friendly personality. He showed that he could relate to real people and their real problems, and that swung the electorate.
Being Jewish is not all about knowledge- despite what people may tell you- but about sincerely caring for your fellow Jew. Knowing the Talmud backwards, but being judgmental of the Jew who drives on Shabbos undermines the fundamentals of our faith.
4. Dare to conquer your enemy
The greatest coup of this election was the ANC's overwhelming victory in Kwazulu Natal. KZN is a traditionally Zulu stronghold and the most powerful base of Mangosuthu Buthelezi's IFP party. Never before has the ANC made such inroads into this region.
But Zuma is a Zulu. He campaigned heavily in volatile territory- and won.
A Jew is expected to venture into the "enemy territory" of our the mundane world, and transform it into holy territory. Be it business, excercise or eating- a Jew can and should convert the experience from its default position to serving a new and higher purpose.
I wouldn't advocate learning morals or honesty from Zuma, but here are a few things you can learn:
1. Don't limit yourself by what other say
Zuma stared down raging condemnation and campaigned his way to the country's top position.
As a Jew, you can expect plenty global criticism. Turn a blind eye and get on with what you know you need to do.
2. You don't have to know how it will all work out
I doubt whether JZ knew quite how he would wiggle out of his corruption trial. His skeleton-filled closet threatened to burst open right up until literally moments before the poll.
Today was the birthday of the fourth Lubavitcher Rebbe, whose motto was Lechatchila Ariber: Stay focused on your goal, put your head down and go for it. Don't waste time worrying about what could go wrong- just make it happen.
3. They don't care how much you know...
... but they know when you care. Zuma ousted the dispassionate and aloof, AIDS-denier Thabo Mbeki using his suave, people-friendly personality. He showed that he could relate to real people and their real problems, and that swung the electorate.
Being Jewish is not all about knowledge- despite what people may tell you- but about sincerely caring for your fellow Jew. Knowing the Talmud backwards, but being judgmental of the Jew who drives on Shabbos undermines the fundamentals of our faith.
4. Dare to conquer your enemy
The greatest coup of this election was the ANC's overwhelming victory in Kwazulu Natal. KZN is a traditionally Zulu stronghold and the most powerful base of Mangosuthu Buthelezi's IFP party. Never before has the ANC made such inroads into this region.
But Zuma is a Zulu. He campaigned heavily in volatile territory- and won.
A Jew is expected to venture into the "enemy territory" of our the mundane world, and transform it into holy territory. Be it business, excercise or eating- a Jew can and should convert the experience from its default position to serving a new and higher purpose.
Missed opportunities?
My brother has recently made Aliyah and moved to Modi'in. Over Pesach, he came to visit and told us all about the vibrant lifestyle in this fast-growing town. From the way he described their ultra-modern home, spectacular public transport system and overwhelmingly warm community, I can't wait to see it for myself. (I might have even considered moving there myself, but we've got plenty work to do here in S.A. so Israel's on hold till Moshiach).
Modi'in is clearly one of the most attractive places in Israel to live and real estate is very valuable. That made me wonder about people who had owned land there twenty some years ago, when Modi'in was little more than a Bohemian settlement. Those who had foresight to buy then must be sitting pretty now.
Then I remembered that we actually had family who almost moved to Modi'in in the early nineties. They almost became millionaires (considering that they almost bought property that would have fetched a fortune in today's market).
We all have "almost" stories. "Almost" made a fortune of money, "almost" met a public figure, "almost" this and "almost" that. Life is full of opportunities, but we almost always seem to miss the really good ones.
Last Wednesday was election day in South Africa. Like a good citizen should, I headed to the polling station up the road. Voting was moving very slowly and it took over an hour to cast my ballot. Normally, I would have stood and chatted to the strangers in line, possibly daydreamed or fretted at the inefficiency of it all.
For once, though, I had enough foresight to take advantage of the time. I took a book that I had needed to study and got through about half of it during the wait. Opportunity used.
Standing there reading reminded me of the Vilna Gaon, who quipped that he became a Torah giant in all those five minutes' that others simply wasted.
We are currently counting the Omer. The Omer days are not festivals, they're ordinary days. Counting the Omer each day transforms each day into a meaningful time- a mitzvah day.
You need less than five minues each evening to to count the Omer. In that short mitzvah-moment, you transform you whole day. Here is a cheap investment that offers great returns.
Counting the Omer is all about not missing opportunities. Yom Tov is always an inspiring time and, be it Pesach or Rosh Hashanah, we naturally feel we need to take advantage while the opportunity lasts. The Omer shows us that we don't need to wait for special days to find opportunities for meaning. They are there every day. And they only take a few minutes.
Five minutes of focus each day can change your whole day. Use five minutes each day for something worthwhile- a Torah-byte, chapter of Tehillim or one kind deed. It will change your day, possibly you life.
And, at the end, you won't have to look back and say "I almost made my life meaningful".
Modi'in is clearly one of the most attractive places in Israel to live and real estate is very valuable. That made me wonder about people who had owned land there twenty some years ago, when Modi'in was little more than a Bohemian settlement. Those who had foresight to buy then must be sitting pretty now.
Then I remembered that we actually had family who almost moved to Modi'in in the early nineties. They almost became millionaires (considering that they almost bought property that would have fetched a fortune in today's market).
We all have "almost" stories. "Almost" made a fortune of money, "almost" met a public figure, "almost" this and "almost" that. Life is full of opportunities, but we almost always seem to miss the really good ones.
Last Wednesday was election day in South Africa. Like a good citizen should, I headed to the polling station up the road. Voting was moving very slowly and it took over an hour to cast my ballot. Normally, I would have stood and chatted to the strangers in line, possibly daydreamed or fretted at the inefficiency of it all.
For once, though, I had enough foresight to take advantage of the time. I took a book that I had needed to study and got through about half of it during the wait. Opportunity used.
Standing there reading reminded me of the Vilna Gaon, who quipped that he became a Torah giant in all those five minutes' that others simply wasted.
We are currently counting the Omer. The Omer days are not festivals, they're ordinary days. Counting the Omer each day transforms each day into a meaningful time- a mitzvah day.
You need less than five minues each evening to to count the Omer. In that short mitzvah-moment, you transform you whole day. Here is a cheap investment that offers great returns.
Counting the Omer is all about not missing opportunities. Yom Tov is always an inspiring time and, be it Pesach or Rosh Hashanah, we naturally feel we need to take advantage while the opportunity lasts. The Omer shows us that we don't need to wait for special days to find opportunities for meaning. They are there every day. And they only take a few minutes.
Five minutes of focus each day can change your whole day. Use five minutes each day for something worthwhile- a Torah-byte, chapter of Tehillim or one kind deed. It will change your day, possibly you life.
And, at the end, you won't have to look back and say "I almost made my life meaningful".
Friday, April 24, 2009
Make it count
Did you vote?
I did. I even have the purple thumbnail to prove it.
Counting votes slowly continues today. One by one by one, IEC officials are tallying the tail end of some 20 million ballots. Some didn’t bother to vote, figuring they wouldn’t change the Zuma fait accomplis. Each result-update emphasizes how every ballot paper really does combine to create a grand total.
In Pretoria they’re counting the polls. Around the world, we’re counting the days. It’s now the time of numbers, of counting. It’s the period called Sefiras Ha’omer.
From second night Pesach until Shavuos, we count each day and tally each week in the longest seasonal mitzvah marathon of the year. Simply put, we’re counting the days until we re-receive the Torah on Shavuos.
Sefiras Ha’omer is more than a simple day-by-day count, though. Numbering the days as we do at this time alerts us to the message of counting.
You count things that are valuable. Some people count their money, others their blessings. Judaism teaches us to count every day that we live, to cherish each one and to make it count.
At the end of his life, our patriarch Avraham is described as “old and ‘come’ in days”. Avraham didn’t waste a day. When he looked back over his long and productive life, he could proudly recall how he had filled each day with meaning.
As the IEC does their counting, let’s make sure to do ours. Our challenge is to fill each day with meaning and growth.
I did. I even have the purple thumbnail to prove it.
Counting votes slowly continues today. One by one by one, IEC officials are tallying the tail end of some 20 million ballots. Some didn’t bother to vote, figuring they wouldn’t change the Zuma fait accomplis. Each result-update emphasizes how every ballot paper really does combine to create a grand total.
In Pretoria they’re counting the polls. Around the world, we’re counting the days. It’s now the time of numbers, of counting. It’s the period called Sefiras Ha’omer.
From second night Pesach until Shavuos, we count each day and tally each week in the longest seasonal mitzvah marathon of the year. Simply put, we’re counting the days until we re-receive the Torah on Shavuos.
Sefiras Ha’omer is more than a simple day-by-day count, though. Numbering the days as we do at this time alerts us to the message of counting.
You count things that are valuable. Some people count their money, others their blessings. Judaism teaches us to count every day that we live, to cherish each one and to make it count.
At the end of his life, our patriarch Avraham is described as “old and ‘come’ in days”. Avraham didn’t waste a day. When he looked back over his long and productive life, he could proudly recall how he had filled each day with meaning.
As the IEC does their counting, let’s make sure to do ours. Our challenge is to fill each day with meaning and growth.
Monday, April 20, 2009
Giving charity makes you money
There's new proof to show that giving charity makes you wealthy. Take a look.
Sunday, March 29, 2009
Message from a guy in a dogbox
If you have ever visited Covent Gardens in central London, you'll know just how diverse and entertaining a place it is. If you've never been, put it on your itinerary for your next visit.
We stepped off the Underground and into the human sea there last Sunday morning. As we turned into the pedestrian mall, I noticed a guy with his purple hair tied back in a ponytail. Figuring my kids would find that intriguing, I planned to surreptitiously snap a shot without attracting his attention.
My brother-in-law, who is far more audacious than I, decided to create the photo-op for me. He strode over to Purple-Hair, offered a loud American "hello" and asked if they could pose together for a photo. Politely, our model agreed, but I couldn't help thinking that he probably looked at our beards, tzitzis and yarmulkes and figured: "Boy, these guys look strange."
We continued on past jugglers, mimes and buskers, while the "how do they look at us" complex bounced around in my head as we walked.
A creative busker caught our eye. He sat under a table,
with his head protruding into a dog travel-box (you know, the type they use to take dogs on planes) and his face painted Fido-like. Two paw-gloves and a fluffy tail sticking out of the box topped off the costume.The guy in the dog-box teased passersby, sang and made everyone smile. Seeing us, he asked: "Are you Loob'evitch?"
I'll admit, I was surprised.
"I like the Loob'evitch," he continued, "they're cool!"
Now, I was truly gobsmacked.
Purple-Hair had given me a frum-appearance complex, but Guy Dogbox restored my perspective.
Yesterday, we started reading the third book of the Torah, Vayikra. The first word, Vayikra, is spelled with a shrunken letter Alef. It is unusual for a letter in the Torah to be enlarged or minimised, so when it happens, you need to pay attention and learn something.
Elsewhere, the first word of the book of Chronicles starts with an enlarged letter Alef at the head of the name "Adam".
Vayikra describes how G-d calls Moses, while Chronicles talks about Adam, the first human tasked with making the world a better place. Between the two Alefs we learn a powerful lesson: When dealing with G-d, shrink your Alef* and stand humble and ready to hear His instruction. When facing the world, let your Alef stand tall and proud so that the world respects who you are and is ready to learn from you.
Unfortunately, we often get our Alefs mixed up. We express our opinion when it's time to listen to G-d and sit back daunted when we look the world in the eye.
Luckily, Hashem sometimes sends us reminders- in the most unexpected ways- to reset our Alef perspective.
We continued down the cobblestone, while the Dogbox struck up a lively "Hava Nagilla".
* Alef is the first letter of "Ani", the Hebrew for "I".
Friday, March 27, 2009
Stealing the limelight
Every tourist to London inevitably stops for a photo-op at Buckingham Palace. We were no exception and chose to get there for the much talked-about “changing of the guard”.
We arrived just moments before the royal spectacle began and the streets were already overcrowded with Nikon-wielding tourists from around the globe, vying for front row spots. We joined the throng to the first strains of march music as the Bearskins rounded the corner, followed by the stiffly synchronised marching guards.
We were not close enough to watch all the proceedings inside the palace grounds, but caught glimpses of flags marching back and forth and heard the barking of orders as the shifts changed. My camera captured more than my eye could and- thanks to digital technology- I was able to watch everything frame-by-frame a few seconds after it happened. Stretch arm, snap, look at photo, stretch, snap, repeat.
One photo is particularly revealing. It shows a flag-bearing guard and his armed counterpart brusquely marching along, while a nondescript suit ‘n tie clad man with an ID tag dangling from his neck looks on from inside a doorway.
My first thought when I saw it: “There’s the real security of Buckingham Palace”.
The honour guard at the palace is a great tourist trap, but the royals are most likely watched over by people you wouldn’t even notice.
Serving the King of kings is not too different. Some strut their Mitzvah stuff with a display that turns heads and elicits gasps of admiration. Others go about doing what needs to be done, with nobody noticing.
As we start the third book of the Torah this week, we will read the secret of offerings to G-d: “Adam (a man) who brings from you an offering to G-d”.
In Hebrew, you could also call a man ish, gever or enosh, yet the Torah chooses the name Adam in this context. It wants to remind us of the first person to ever give something to G-d: Adam. Soon after his creation, Adam offered a sacrifice to G-d. Nobody else was around to see what he had done. Adam was not out to impress anyone with his dedication to the Divine, because there was nobody around to impress.
The Torah highlights this message: Before you get into the details of what you plan to do for G-d, make sure you know how to do for G-d. Be like Adam, unconcerned for the approval of others, focused instead on what G-d needs you to do .
Friday, March 13, 2009
Need a lift?
Welcome to the morning after.
Purim was spectacular, Boruch Hashem, with best-ever crowds at Shul and good spirit all round. Now, we’re in the doldrums that follow the high.
I’m not talking about hangovers or headaches (thankfully), just that dullness that seems to follow wonderful moments. It’s not just that we battle to keep the high, it seems we humans naturally slip after the good times. It’s almost like the higher we climb, the harder we fall.
Maybe that’s why we read this week’s Parsha straight after Purim. It tells us how the Jews slid to our lowest ebb ever just days after experiencing history’s greatest high. Not long after G-d Himself revealed His Torah to us, our spiritual ADD kicked in and we built an idol. We went from hero to zero in record time!
You would expect the Torah to decry this horrible piece of our past, to subtly allude to it in less-than-polite terms. After all, the Golden Calf almost cost us our nationhood and remains the ugliest blight on our history’s landscape.
You probably know that the Torah refers to incidents with the name that would best describe the essence of the event. It should surprise you then to hear that the Torah portion that reports on the faith-lapse of the Jewish nation is called “Ki Sisa”, meaning “when you will lift or elevate”.
Is this Torah sarcasm?
If anything we will read this week of how the Jews FELL. The giving of the Torah was the ultimate lift, but we dropped sharply from unprecedented heights all the way down to rock bottom. Where’s the “lift” in this story?
To be sure, the “high” at Sinai was artificial. We were elevated by G-d, we didn’t elevate ourselves. When you lose inspiration and fall, you earn the opportunity to climb back up. In the portion Moshe rebukes his people, they recognize their spiritual recession and they immediately work to rise again. This time around they lift themselves- maybe not as high, but definitely more meaningfully.
Purim excitement is over, so it is now time to lift ourselves.
Purim was spectacular, Boruch Hashem, with best-ever crowds at Shul and good spirit all round. Now, we’re in the doldrums that follow the high.
I’m not talking about hangovers or headaches (thankfully), just that dullness that seems to follow wonderful moments. It’s not just that we battle to keep the high, it seems we humans naturally slip after the good times. It’s almost like the higher we climb, the harder we fall.
Maybe that’s why we read this week’s Parsha straight after Purim. It tells us how the Jews slid to our lowest ebb ever just days after experiencing history’s greatest high. Not long after G-d Himself revealed His Torah to us, our spiritual ADD kicked in and we built an idol. We went from hero to zero in record time!
You would expect the Torah to decry this horrible piece of our past, to subtly allude to it in less-than-polite terms. After all, the Golden Calf almost cost us our nationhood and remains the ugliest blight on our history’s landscape.
You probably know that the Torah refers to incidents with the name that would best describe the essence of the event. It should surprise you then to hear that the Torah portion that reports on the faith-lapse of the Jewish nation is called “Ki Sisa”, meaning “when you will lift or elevate”.
Is this Torah sarcasm?
If anything we will read this week of how the Jews FELL. The giving of the Torah was the ultimate lift, but we dropped sharply from unprecedented heights all the way down to rock bottom. Where’s the “lift” in this story?
To be sure, the “high” at Sinai was artificial. We were elevated by G-d, we didn’t elevate ourselves. When you lose inspiration and fall, you earn the opportunity to climb back up. In the portion Moshe rebukes his people, they recognize their spiritual recession and they immediately work to rise again. This time around they lift themselves- maybe not as high, but definitely more meaningfully.
Purim excitement is over, so it is now time to lift ourselves.
Saturday, February 14, 2009
Our world has gone to the dogs (part III)- the good news
After my last two posts, you probably think that I'm complaining about the way the world has "gone to the dogs". Actually, I'm quite excited by it. I've been looking forward to this for quite some time.
It began about 15 years ago when I came across a rather cryptic Talmudic passage. Towards the end of Tractate Sanhedrin, the sages describe what the world will look like before Moshiach comes. All of their their descriptions are intriguing, some completely enigmatic.
I've always been fascinated by what our sages meant with these predictions, especially since I'm convinced that we're living in that time now. A simple glance at our world's rapid and unpredictable changes should tell you something major is afoot. Plus, this generation's greatest Jewish leader, the Lubavitcher Rebbe, repeated at every opportunity that "now is the time" and we need to open our eyes to see it happening.
Here are a few eye-openers: The current global economic meltdown could fit the Talmud's prediction that "the Messiah will not come until pockets are empty of coins" (although that could simply refer to credit cards or online banking). Rampant chutzpah, discord in Israel and family feuds are forecasts from that Talmudic passage I can relate to.
But, one prediction had me stumped. According to the Talmud, you'll know Moshiach is close when you seee "the face of the generation resembles a dog".
What does that mean? I know some say that every dog looks like its owner, but that hardly seems a plausible precursor to the Messianic Age.
I think our sages were telling us that before Moshiach comes, our world will go to the dogs.
It began about 15 years ago when I came across a rather cryptic Talmudic passage. Towards the end of Tractate Sanhedrin, the sages describe what the world will look like before Moshiach comes. All of their their descriptions are intriguing, some completely enigmatic.
I've always been fascinated by what our sages meant with these predictions, especially since I'm convinced that we're living in that time now. A simple glance at our world's rapid and unpredictable changes should tell you something major is afoot. Plus, this generation's greatest Jewish leader, the Lubavitcher Rebbe, repeated at every opportunity that "now is the time" and we need to open our eyes to see it happening.
Here are a few eye-openers: The current global economic meltdown could fit the Talmud's prediction that "the Messiah will not come until pockets are empty of coins" (although that could simply refer to credit cards or online banking). Rampant chutzpah, discord in Israel and family feuds are forecasts from that Talmudic passage I can relate to.
But, one prediction had me stumped. According to the Talmud, you'll know Moshiach is close when you seee "the face of the generation resembles a dog".
What does that mean? I know some say that every dog looks like its owner, but that hardly seems a plausible precursor to the Messianic Age.
I think our sages were telling us that before Moshiach comes, our world will go to the dogs.
Wednesday, February 11, 2009
Our world has gone to the dogs (part II)
In my last post I suggested that our world has gone to the dogs. Nu, what's so bad about that? After all, isn't a dog man's best friend?
Well, that's actually the point.
Dogs love us unconditionally, which is why we love them. Even when you arrive home in a foul mood, your loyal mutt will bound over, wag its tail and deposit a slobbery "hello" all over your face. Besides, Rover doesn't hold grudges, even don't take him walkies every day. He'll continue to love you after you grip the leash and stop him chasing the pigeons.
Canine loyalty isn't a cerebral thing. They don't love your for your talents or achievements. Dogs are loving and loyal because dogs are loving and loyal.
In Hebrew, a dog is called a kelev, which hints at kol-lev (all heart). Dogs are heart-creatures, emotion-driven not intellect driven.
Modern trends and opinions are also heart-driven. People make sentimental lifestyle choices, not always rational ones. You buy what you like- or think others will like- more often than you buy what you need or can afford. The credit crunch is thanks to kelevesque investment decisions taken impulsively, not rationally.
People vote for their leaders with their heart, not their minds. Obama's policies didn't steal the vote, his "Yes we can!" and "Change" rhetoric did. He spoke so successfully to people's hearts that he didn't need to appeal to their minds.
Kelev mentality.
More sinister is the way people's prejudices are shaped by emotive nonsense rather than hard facts.
Israel has lagged hopelessly in the media war for a long time. Yet, during Operation Cast Lead in Gaza, they seemed to rally. Tzippi Livni, Bibi Netanyahu and Mark Regev argued Israel's case eloquently on CNN, Sky and BBC. The IDF splashed out video footage of booby-trapped schools, missile stockpiles in mosques and IAF precision bombings, including pilots redirecting their missiles from terrorist targets when they entered civilian areas.
The world replied: "Don't confuse us with the facts".
And the facts are glaring: Close to 9000 missiles fired at Israel, Palestinian civilians used as human shields and Israel fighting the most moral war the world has ever seen. Still, nobody's interested.
Israel's pushing facts. Pallywood's pushing sensationalism. "Yes we can!" ignites the American heart, but so does "civilian victims". "War crimes" and "disprapotionate force", mixed with horrifying images of Palestinians parading their dead and wounded for the camera push the emotional buttons hard.
Here in South Africa they simply use a one-word emotive hook: "Apartheid". That's it, everyone now knows Israel is wrong.
It is so frustrating.
It is also so expected. You cannot reason with a world that thinks with its heart- not the deep intuitive heart, but the fickle emotive heart.
After all, our world has gone to the dogs...
Well, that's actually the point.
Dogs love us unconditionally, which is why we love them. Even when you arrive home in a foul mood, your loyal mutt will bound over, wag its tail and deposit a slobbery "hello" all over your face. Besides, Rover doesn't hold grudges, even don't take him walkies every day. He'll continue to love you after you grip the leash and stop him chasing the pigeons.
Canine loyalty isn't a cerebral thing. They don't love your for your talents or achievements. Dogs are loving and loyal because dogs are loving and loyal.
In Hebrew, a dog is called a kelev, which hints at kol-lev (all heart). Dogs are heart-creatures, emotion-driven not intellect driven.
Modern trends and opinions are also heart-driven. People make sentimental lifestyle choices, not always rational ones. You buy what you like- or think others will like- more often than you buy what you need or can afford. The credit crunch is thanks to kelevesque investment decisions taken impulsively, not rationally.
People vote for their leaders with their heart, not their minds. Obama's policies didn't steal the vote, his "Yes we can!" and "Change" rhetoric did. He spoke so successfully to people's hearts that he didn't need to appeal to their minds.
Kelev mentality.
More sinister is the way people's prejudices are shaped by emotive nonsense rather than hard facts.
Israel has lagged hopelessly in the media war for a long time. Yet, during Operation Cast Lead in Gaza, they seemed to rally. Tzippi Livni, Bibi Netanyahu and Mark Regev argued Israel's case eloquently on CNN, Sky and BBC. The IDF splashed out video footage of booby-trapped schools, missile stockpiles in mosques and IAF precision bombings, including pilots redirecting their missiles from terrorist targets when they entered civilian areas.
The world replied: "Don't confuse us with the facts".
And the facts are glaring: Close to 9000 missiles fired at Israel, Palestinian civilians used as human shields and Israel fighting the most moral war the world has ever seen. Still, nobody's interested.
Israel's pushing facts. Pallywood's pushing sensationalism. "Yes we can!" ignites the American heart, but so does "civilian victims". "War crimes" and "disprapotionate force", mixed with horrifying images of Palestinians parading their dead and wounded for the camera push the emotional buttons hard.
Here in South Africa they simply use a one-word emotive hook: "Apartheid". That's it, everyone now knows Israel is wrong.
It is so frustrating.
It is also so expected. You cannot reason with a world that thinks with its heart- not the deep intuitive heart, but the fickle emotive heart.
After all, our world has gone to the dogs...
Friday, February 06, 2009
Our world has gone to the dogs (part I)
It suddenly dawned on me, as I watched video footage of Muslim protestors attacking police* and trashing London, that our world has gone to the dogs.
Rows of Bobbies wagged truncheons and ordered the protestors back, as they inched slowly backwards, for blocks. I kept watching, waiting for reinforcements to arrive, certain the riot police would rush in to take control. But, the agitators continued to hurl abuse, sticks and traffic cones at The Law, while cops shouted, threatend, false-charged and retreated.
To me, these officers looked just like the protective beagle that growls and barks at the gate, but scampers away as soon as you confront him.
"Allah hu akbar!"
"Yip, yip, yip". Scamper. "Yip, yip, yip".
French police backed off from marauding Muslims on Parisian streets and Oslo cops battled to stand up to demonstrators there. In San Francisco, police ignored flag-burning and incitement like "Every Zionazi is a legitimate military target". They instead removed a lone Jewish protestor with an anti-Hamas placard.
"Yip, yip, yip."
What played out on the avenues of London and Paris is a microcosm of world leadership's (in)action against this century's most serious threat. Those who are supposed to police our planet and contain rogue behaviour are all bark and no bite. They yelp, sneer and dart off as soon as they feel the heat.
"Pyonyang, halt your nuclear programme immediately!"
"Yip, yip, yip".
"Ahmadinejad, Nasrallah, Assad, don't threaten Israel!"
"Yip, yip, yip".
War on terror. "Yip, yip". Regime change for Zimbabwe. "Yip, yip".
Our world has gone to the dogs...
* WARNING: Strong language in this clip!
Rows of Bobbies wagged truncheons and ordered the protestors back, as they inched slowly backwards, for blocks. I kept watching, waiting for reinforcements to arrive, certain the riot police would rush in to take control. But, the agitators continued to hurl abuse, sticks and traffic cones at The Law, while cops shouted, threatend, false-charged and retreated.
To me, these officers looked just like the protective beagle that growls and barks at the gate, but scampers away as soon as you confront him.
"Allah hu akbar!"
"Yip, yip, yip". Scamper. "Yip, yip, yip".
French police backed off from marauding Muslims on Parisian streets and Oslo cops battled to stand up to demonstrators there. In San Francisco, police ignored flag-burning and incitement like "Every Zionazi is a legitimate military target". They instead removed a lone Jewish protestor with an anti-Hamas placard.
"Yip, yip, yip."
What played out on the avenues of London and Paris is a microcosm of world leadership's (in)action against this century's most serious threat. Those who are supposed to police our planet and contain rogue behaviour are all bark and no bite. They yelp, sneer and dart off as soon as they feel the heat.
"Pyonyang, halt your nuclear programme immediately!"
"Yip, yip, yip".
"Ahmadinejad, Nasrallah, Assad, don't threaten Israel!"
"Yip, yip, yip".
War on terror. "Yip, yip". Regime change for Zimbabwe. "Yip, yip".
Our world has gone to the dogs...
* WARNING: Strong language in this clip!
When in doubt, opt for love
Yale Butler caused a storm in Pittsburgh’s Jewish community. It was the early 60’s and Yale was just twelve at the time.
A creative youngster, Yale wrote a fictional column for his school’s newspaper. The article that caused a stir fantasized about Fidel Castro calling on his brothers (people with untrimmed beards) from 770 Eastern Parkway (Lubavitch World Headquarters) to help fight off an invasion of Cuba.
Pittsburgh Jews were not impressed and Yale was sharply taken to task. But, a local Chabadnik figured that instead of berating the budding writer, he’d take him to meet the Rebbe in New York. An encounter with the Rebbe, he figured, would do far more to educate Yale than lectures or reprimands.
The Rebbe greeted Yale warmly and specifically complimented his writing talent. On the Rebbe’s desk sat a copy of the offensive article. The Rebbe did not mention it.
In time, Yale became an editor for a major Jewish newspaper, eventually using the Rebbe’s talks as the basis for his weekly Parsha column. The Rebbe became one of his subscribers, and once mentioned how he had known Yale “since he was a child”.
On Wednesday, we commemorated the 58th anniversary of the Rebbe’s leadership. His opening statement as the new Rebbe was: “Three loves are intertwined- love of G-d, love of Torah, love of the Jewish people.”
As the man who would lead a revolution of Jewish revival, love- not judgement- would be the guiding theme of his Jewish outreach campaign.
You may, at times, feel tempted to react harshly to a friend or family member, especially if they’ve stepped out of line. They might accept your criticism. They might not.
Show them love- even when you criticize- and you are guaranteed success.
That’s how the Rebbe responded to Yale Butler and tens of thousands like him. That’s how the Torah wants us to respond to those around us.
When in doubt- show love.
A creative youngster, Yale wrote a fictional column for his school’s newspaper. The article that caused a stir fantasized about Fidel Castro calling on his brothers (people with untrimmed beards) from 770 Eastern Parkway (Lubavitch World Headquarters) to help fight off an invasion of Cuba.
Pittsburgh Jews were not impressed and Yale was sharply taken to task. But, a local Chabadnik figured that instead of berating the budding writer, he’d take him to meet the Rebbe in New York. An encounter with the Rebbe, he figured, would do far more to educate Yale than lectures or reprimands.
The Rebbe greeted Yale warmly and specifically complimented his writing talent. On the Rebbe’s desk sat a copy of the offensive article. The Rebbe did not mention it.
In time, Yale became an editor for a major Jewish newspaper, eventually using the Rebbe’s talks as the basis for his weekly Parsha column. The Rebbe became one of his subscribers, and once mentioned how he had known Yale “since he was a child”.
On Wednesday, we commemorated the 58th anniversary of the Rebbe’s leadership. His opening statement as the new Rebbe was: “Three loves are intertwined- love of G-d, love of Torah, love of the Jewish people.”
As the man who would lead a revolution of Jewish revival, love- not judgement- would be the guiding theme of his Jewish outreach campaign.
You may, at times, feel tempted to react harshly to a friend or family member, especially if they’ve stepped out of line. They might accept your criticism. They might not.
Show them love- even when you criticize- and you are guaranteed success.
That’s how the Rebbe responded to Yale Butler and tens of thousands like him. That’s how the Torah wants us to respond to those around us.
When in doubt- show love.
Thursday, January 29, 2009
My way or...
“Let my people go!”
“No!”
“Let them go!
“No!”
Robert Mugabe must be a great-great-grandson of Pharaoh. Indisputable facts mean nothing to him. He’s convinced Zim is just fine, despite its complete economic collapse and wildfire cholera epidemic.
He is just like Pharaoh, who watched his country’s water become infected, all its crops destroyed and his people become ill and die. Yet, he remained unmoved.
How can a leader be so blind to the obvious crisis in his backyard?
Pharaoh- and all his spiritual heirs through history- remained convinced at all times that he was the only one who “really” understood. His way was the right way. After all, things had run his way for as long as he could recall and had worked.
“Free the Jews? We’ve never done that, why should we start now?”
“Obey Hashem? Nobody tells me what to do!”
Pharaoh could choose to be “right” or to be happy. He chose to be “right”- and paid the price.
He’s still alive today, Pharaoh, inside you and inside me.
He still spews rhetoric about how he’s the only one who truly understands and nobody is clever enough to advise him and how he has always done things this way, which must prove he is right. Pharaoh is our voice of over-confidence and inflexibility.
To succeed in life we need to listen to our Moses-voice, the one that urges progress, openness to new ideas and a listening ear.
“No!”
“Let them go!
“No!”
Robert Mugabe must be a great-great-grandson of Pharaoh. Indisputable facts mean nothing to him. He’s convinced Zim is just fine, despite its complete economic collapse and wildfire cholera epidemic.
He is just like Pharaoh, who watched his country’s water become infected, all its crops destroyed and his people become ill and die. Yet, he remained unmoved.
How can a leader be so blind to the obvious crisis in his backyard?
Pharaoh- and all his spiritual heirs through history- remained convinced at all times that he was the only one who “really” understood. His way was the right way. After all, things had run his way for as long as he could recall and had worked.
“Free the Jews? We’ve never done that, why should we start now?”
“Obey Hashem? Nobody tells me what to do!”
Pharaoh could choose to be “right” or to be happy. He chose to be “right”- and paid the price.
He’s still alive today, Pharaoh, inside you and inside me.
He still spews rhetoric about how he’s the only one who truly understands and nobody is clever enough to advise him and how he has always done things this way, which must prove he is right. Pharaoh is our voice of over-confidence and inflexibility.
To succeed in life we need to listen to our Moses-voice, the one that urges progress, openness to new ideas and a listening ear.
Friday, January 23, 2009
Big Talk
Fools rush in.
Many of us feel frustrated at Israel’s poor PR effort. Why can’t they just hire a top-notch marketing company to brainstorm and get our side of the story out there? Sure, this time around we’ve had better media representatives than ever, but nobody seems to hear what they say. CNN and co. keep spewing the same “Israel = aggressor” rhetoric despite out best efforts.
Amazingly, as always, the weekly Torah portion is a mirror of contemporary events.
Pharaoh created a high-grade propaganda machine that turned his nation against the Israelites. Who did Hashem send to face off with him? Moshe, a man with a speech impediment!
Oh, but Hashem also backed him up with state-of-the-art miracles to convince Pharaoh that he had better listen. Moshe and Aharon confronted with a lifeless staff and transformed it into a writhing serpent.
Pharaoh remained unmoved. His people could do the same- if not better. The Egyptian sorcerers quickly responded with snakes of their own, water that turned to blood and a swarm of frogs- matching Moshe move for move and dismissing his antics as party tricks in the hub of black magic.
Moshe drew a trump-card. Lice. Witchcraft has no mastery over such tiny creatures, so Pharaoh and his henchmen were stumped. And silenced.
“A fool lets out all his wind, but afterwards a wise man will quiet it”, says King Solomon.
A fool yells a phony message, throwing out “proofs” quickly and loudly, conning the world for a time.
The wise man carries eternal truth. He is quiet and measured, confident that Truth will trounce falsehood again- as it always has.
Many of us feel frustrated at Israel’s poor PR effort. Why can’t they just hire a top-notch marketing company to brainstorm and get our side of the story out there? Sure, this time around we’ve had better media representatives than ever, but nobody seems to hear what they say. CNN and co. keep spewing the same “Israel = aggressor” rhetoric despite out best efforts.
Amazingly, as always, the weekly Torah portion is a mirror of contemporary events.
Pharaoh created a high-grade propaganda machine that turned his nation against the Israelites. Who did Hashem send to face off with him? Moshe, a man with a speech impediment!
Oh, but Hashem also backed him up with state-of-the-art miracles to convince Pharaoh that he had better listen. Moshe and Aharon confronted with a lifeless staff and transformed it into a writhing serpent.
Pharaoh remained unmoved. His people could do the same- if not better. The Egyptian sorcerers quickly responded with snakes of their own, water that turned to blood and a swarm of frogs- matching Moshe move for move and dismissing his antics as party tricks in the hub of black magic.
Moshe drew a trump-card. Lice. Witchcraft has no mastery over such tiny creatures, so Pharaoh and his henchmen were stumped. And silenced.
“A fool lets out all his wind, but afterwards a wise man will quiet it”, says King Solomon.
A fool yells a phony message, throwing out “proofs” quickly and loudly, conning the world for a time.
The wise man carries eternal truth. He is quiet and measured, confident that Truth will trounce falsehood again- as it always has.
Friday, January 16, 2009
Israel sure has received some bad press lately. With accusations of targeting schools, killing children and bombing UN agencies- it’s not surprising some of our own community are feeling a little uncomfortable with what we’re hearing.
We know the Israeli answer, but find it difficult to digest. Would Hamas really put their children in the line of fire? To the Western mind, this is impossible.
And, is it possible that world media carries an anti-Israel (read anti-Semitic) bias? Don’t they research and report objectively?
None of this is news to us. It’s part and parcel of the Jewish reality. We have had to deal with this sort of thing from even before we were a nation. Anti-Semitism is older than Judaism.
Chassidic philosophy teaches that the Egytpian Exile is the prototype for every subsequent anti-Semitic event or era. Read the story of Egypt and you’ll know what to expect- and how it will all end.
Pharaoh hated Jews, we all know that. But, his people didn’t. They had good memories of Jews, after all Joseph had saved their country from economic collapse and built it into a world superpower.
Slowly and deliberately Pharaoh fed his nation warnings of the “Jewish threat”: “They will take your jobs”, “They will ally with our enemies”, “They breed like rabbits, they will overrun us”. For all you know he could have used Joseph to illustrate how the Jews control the world.
Pharaoh was so intent on killing Jews he ordered all baby boys thrown into the Nile- Jewish and Egyptian. Golda Meir wasn’t visionary for saying peace would depend on the Arabs loving their children more than they hate us. She understood history.
Welcome to Pharaoh 2009.
We’re not praying for the IDF to win this war. Or any other.
We want Moses 2009- to take us Home and make the world a peaceful place.
Friday, January 09, 2009
Israel- a call to action
It's a few minutes before Shabbos and the rush is on, but this thought struck me and I would like to share it.
Israel's at war- again. Our collective Jewish heart skips a beat each time we hear of another missile attack or a soldier that was killed. Our collective Jewish conscience cringes each time a Palestinian is killed, because we don't celebrate the deaths of our enemies.
Global Jewish mobilisation in support of Israel is heart-warming. From Israeli-flag Facebook profiles to following IDF soldiers on Twitter to pro-Israel demonstrations to letters to the press to emailing video clips- people have responded.
Well, here's another "what you can do for Israel", gleaned from tommorrow's Torah portion.
Jacob dies. His last will calls for his sons to bury him in Canaan, which they set out to do. Egyptian dignitaries join the sad procession in respect to Joseph, their viceroy who is mourning his father.
Others have darker intentions.
As the procession leaves Egypt, a band of Ishmaelite and Canaanite princes ambush the group. Suddenly, inexplicably, instead of attacking the small Jewish band and their Egyptian associates, the princes join the funeral, hanging their crowns on Jacob's bier.
What changed their attitude?
Joseph's crown. The Talmud describes how they saw his crown adorning the casket and felt compelled to do the same.
Notice- they didn't change their tune out of fear of the Egyptians (World Superpower at the time) who accompanied the Jews. The emphasis is on Joseph's crown, not the viceroy of Egypt's crown.
What is the secret of Joseph's crown? Why did it stop the assault dead in its tracks?
Joseph was an atypical Jew. Unlike his brothers, he didn't live in isolation, tending the flocks, free to meditate and pray all day. He was deeply involved in the modern world, managing the most powerful position in the world.
Unlike others who rise to prominence, he didn't assimilate into the surrounding culture. Riding the wave of Egyptian world-domination, Joseph remained faithful to his roots. Rather than allowing society to shape his life, Joseph used morality and values learned in his father's home to guide society.
Joseph teaches us how to live in the "real" world, proud of the Jew we are.
As Israel battles its enemies in Gaza and its critics around the world, we need to wear Joseph's crown. It is the crown of Tefillin on our heads each morning and the pride of our Jewish heritage for all the world to see always.
Joseph's crown is so powerful, anyone who sees it switches from enemy to ally.
We pray for the day when there will be no more war, when all people will collaborate and assist each other. May today be that day.
Israel's at war- again. Our collective Jewish heart skips a beat each time we hear of another missile attack or a soldier that was killed. Our collective Jewish conscience cringes each time a Palestinian is killed, because we don't celebrate the deaths of our enemies.
Global Jewish mobilisation in support of Israel is heart-warming. From Israeli-flag Facebook profiles to following IDF soldiers on Twitter to pro-Israel demonstrations to letters to the press to emailing video clips- people have responded.
Well, here's another "what you can do for Israel", gleaned from tommorrow's Torah portion.
Jacob dies. His last will calls for his sons to bury him in Canaan, which they set out to do. Egyptian dignitaries join the sad procession in respect to Joseph, their viceroy who is mourning his father.
Others have darker intentions.
As the procession leaves Egypt, a band of Ishmaelite and Canaanite princes ambush the group. Suddenly, inexplicably, instead of attacking the small Jewish band and their Egyptian associates, the princes join the funeral, hanging their crowns on Jacob's bier.
What changed their attitude?
Joseph's crown. The Talmud describes how they saw his crown adorning the casket and felt compelled to do the same.
Notice- they didn't change their tune out of fear of the Egyptians (World Superpower at the time) who accompanied the Jews. The emphasis is on Joseph's crown, not the viceroy of Egypt's crown.
What is the secret of Joseph's crown? Why did it stop the assault dead in its tracks?
Joseph was an atypical Jew. Unlike his brothers, he didn't live in isolation, tending the flocks, free to meditate and pray all day. He was deeply involved in the modern world, managing the most powerful position in the world.
Unlike others who rise to prominence, he didn't assimilate into the surrounding culture. Riding the wave of Egyptian world-domination, Joseph remained faithful to his roots. Rather than allowing society to shape his life, Joseph used morality and values learned in his father's home to guide society.
Joseph teaches us how to live in the "real" world, proud of the Jew we are.
As Israel battles its enemies in Gaza and its critics around the world, we need to wear Joseph's crown. It is the crown of Tefillin on our heads each morning and the pride of our Jewish heritage for all the world to see always.
Joseph's crown is so powerful, anyone who sees it switches from enemy to ally.
We pray for the day when there will be no more war, when all people will collaborate and assist each other. May today be that day.
Imbalance
Deja vu.
Israel fighting to defend its citizens and World condemnation of Arab bloodshed.
They call it a "cycle of violence" and blame "both" sides. They demand a balanced truce.
As if the two sides could be equated.
I say to the World: The day you see a photo of a Hamas terrorist and Jewish child interacting like this Israeli soldier and Palestnian girl, you can dare to use the expression "both" sides.
Israel fighting to defend its citizens and World condemnation of Arab bloodshed.
They call it a "cycle of violence" and blame "both" sides. They demand a balanced truce.
As if the two sides could be equated.
I say to the World: The day you see a photo of a Hamas terrorist and Jewish child interacting like this Israeli soldier and Palestnian girl, you can dare to use the expression "both" sides.
Tuesday, December 09, 2008
A "previously unheard-of terrorist group"
We now have a new kid on the terror-monger block, the so-called "Decca Mujahideen". They're the amoral beasts who wreaked havoc in Mumbai and slaughtered six of our own in the city's Chabad House.
It seems as if each time there's a new terror attack in the world, there's a new group that pops up with it.
Honestly, I find it difficult to believe that a fledgling group tucked away in a Pakistani village has the capacity or resources to train and arm the professional assault team that attacked India's financial capital last week.
Around the world, governments and anti-terror agencies are being distracted by the "previously unheard-of" group theory. These shop-front splinter cells are simply a deflection from the big-daddy, mega-terror states and ideologies that sponsor them.
But, I'm not an expert on geopolitics nor on terrorism and don't believe a short vent here will solve these problems.
I do believe that our inner worlds reflect whatever plays out on the global stage- and that is where we need to focus our attention.
Each of us has a core of goodness, values and integrity. We also have a distracting side that will do anything to mislead and confuse us. It's the old Yetzer Tov (good inclination) v. Yetzer Horah (evil inclination) scenario.
You try to develop your spiritual side, but your negative impulses kick in- pulling in any direction but the one you know you should follow.
With minimal focus, you can identify your enemy. He's the one telling you how tired you are, how busy you are, how unrealistic your spiritual expectations are. When you know your enemy, you can remain alert to his attacks and commit yourself to thwarting them.
Of course, your internal enemy does not simply continue using old strategies, keeping himself in your sights and allowing you easy access to self-development.
Just when you think you've brought peace to your personal world, a "new" group attacks. If you've become a little more frum, you're suddenly hit with the "holier-than-thou" challenge; once you've mastered keeping your mouth shut and not spreading all that juicy gossip, your judgmental mind comes to life.
If you're not thinking, you could fall for the gag that you've conquered the serious areas of inner-struggle and now have a "new group" to address. If you are thinking, you'll appreciate that any small assault on your spiritual growth is sponsored by the mega-terrorist within. Until you've uprooted him, you'll keep on battling.
How do you oust your Innerdinejad?
Darkness runs from light. Concentrating your energies on fighting your frailties will tire you out. Investing extra energy in doing even more of the right stuff will empower you- and weaken your enemies.
Friday, December 05, 2008
Mumbai...
This has been the longest week to have ever flown by. Each day has brought a blur of news reports, countless blog-tributes and heart-searing images that will be indelibly etched in all our memories.
I boarded a plane at JFK airport last Wednesday, soaring on the high of a spectacular Chabad rabbi's convention. The world was still intact.
I crash landed as I walked our of the airport in Johannesburg and heard the unspeakable news. Instead of my usual routine of catching my wife up on the stories, encounters and "farbrengens" of my annual NY recharge, we both stayed glued to our Tehillim (Psalm) books and Internet.
Moments before Shabbos, we got the confirmation we wanted to never hear...
Last week, with exacting precision, darkness incarnate pierced the warmth of Chabad Mumbai and the hearts of Jews around the world. Six of our brothers and sisters were brutally cut down in what was always a haven in the madness of India’s financial centre.
Only now, the haze is lifting somewhat, the jumble of emotion beginning to come into focus. While there was so much to say, there was nothing I could say for the last week.
The dam wall is cracking, thoughts cascading out along with an urgency to do; to make a difference.
Considering the meticulous planning that preceded this attack, you have to wonder why they selected the modest Chabad House rather than the magnificent (and more central) Knesseth Eliyahoo Shul. Built in 1884, it is certainly more of a Jewish icon than Nariman House.
Knesseth Eliyahoo represents the Judaism that was, while Chabad housed Judaism with a future. The Chabad House and its dedicated directors brought Judaism to life in an otherwise dwindling community. Pharaoh’s ghost has returned to try once more to eradicate the promise of a Jewish tomorrow.
Yet, Pharaoh is again trounced as baby Moshe is plucked from the clutches of savagery; as his family swears he will one day return to lead the Jewish community in Mumbai; as world Jewry unites in an unprecedented fashion and pledges to add light in a world turned dark.
I remember, in the 80’s when the Rebbe called on us all to name our private homes Chabad Houses. He even wanted us to hang “Chabad House” signs on our front doors.
"Chabad House" is not a restricted brand, Chabad Shliach (emissary) is not an elite club. It’s time to take up the challenge: use your home as a hospitality base, invite your friends and family to do an extra Mitzvah.
Become the phoenix that rises with greater force each time they try to destroy us.
Friday, November 07, 2008
Moshiach & Obama
No, he’s not the Moshiach, if that’s what you thought I meant. Sorry.
I’ll be honest, this time last year I had no idea who Barack Obama was. In January I heard a speaker predict that Illinois Senator Obama would be the next president of the United States. I went home to Google his name, doubtful that I would ever need to remember it.
Incredibly, here’s a man who went from near-obscurity to the most powerful position in the world overnight.
As Jews, we need to look for the lesson in stories that touch our lives or capture our imaginations.
The Rambam writes that every person has the capacity to change the whole world. “Nice theory,” we all think. Well, we have now seen: “Yes we can!”
People often ask me if I really believe that one day a religious Jew (read: Moshiach) will suddenly emerge as the unchallenged leader of the world. Well, an African American did it in a country that sits on a deep racial rift, despite all claims to the contrary.
Did Hashem push Obama to win so he would pull America out of economic turmoil and war?
I don’t know.
Did He put him there because he’d look after Israel’s interests?
I have my doubts.
Maybe, He wanted to ease us into accepting that leaders can emerge from nowhere, so that when the Ultimate Leader suddenly appears and promises true peace and prosperity- we are not taken by surprise.
May Hashem send us that leader we’ve always dreamed of- now.
I’ll be honest, this time last year I had no idea who Barack Obama was. In January I heard a speaker predict that Illinois Senator Obama would be the next president of the United States. I went home to Google his name, doubtful that I would ever need to remember it.
Incredibly, here’s a man who went from near-obscurity to the most powerful position in the world overnight.
As Jews, we need to look for the lesson in stories that touch our lives or capture our imaginations.
The Rambam writes that every person has the capacity to change the whole world. “Nice theory,” we all think. Well, we have now seen: “Yes we can!”
People often ask me if I really believe that one day a religious Jew (read: Moshiach) will suddenly emerge as the unchallenged leader of the world. Well, an African American did it in a country that sits on a deep racial rift, despite all claims to the contrary.
Did Hashem push Obama to win so he would pull America out of economic turmoil and war?
I don’t know.
Did He put him there because he’d look after Israel’s interests?
I have my doubts.
Maybe, He wanted to ease us into accepting that leaders can emerge from nowhere, so that when the Ultimate Leader suddenly appears and promises true peace and prosperity- we are not taken by surprise.
May Hashem send us that leader we’ve always dreamed of- now.
Monday, October 27, 2008
Who's it all about, anyway?
Apparently sibling rivalry is as old as siblings themselves. Consider Cain and Abel- they only had each other (although the Midrash indicates they also had sisters), yet look how they fought.
You have to wonder how Cain, reared by parents who spoke to G-d Himself (in fact, they chatted just before he knocked his brother off) went so extremely off the rails- and murdered his own brother!
This may just have been the first of thousands of conflicts that were sparked by religion. After all, the Cain-Abel fallout started as a religious exercise, each bringing an offering to G-d. They experienced the typical “my-way-to-G-d-is-better-than-your-way”. Only, in this case, G-d took sides.
Cain offered a simple grain-offering. Abel sacrificed a prized animal. G-d accepted Abel’s offering and turned away from Cain.
Abel was furious- not with G-d, but with his brother. Instead of contemplating why G-d had ignored him, he shifted the blame to Abel.
Cain didn’t bring an offering to serve G-d, but to satisfy himself. Cain wanted to get away with the bare minimum to satisfy himself that he had serviced G-d. Abel happily stretched himself beyond his means to satisfy G-d.
“Commitment to G-d” that’s based on the what’s-in-it-for-me philosophy can have devastating results. Religion and spirituality are about Higher Purpose, not Self.
If our world had more Abels and fewer Cains, we’d be living in peace.
You have to wonder how Cain, reared by parents who spoke to G-d Himself (in fact, they chatted just before he knocked his brother off) went so extremely off the rails- and murdered his own brother!
This may just have been the first of thousands of conflicts that were sparked by religion. After all, the Cain-Abel fallout started as a religious exercise, each bringing an offering to G-d. They experienced the typical “my-way-to-G-d-is-better-than-your-way”. Only, in this case, G-d took sides.
Cain offered a simple grain-offering. Abel sacrificed a prized animal. G-d accepted Abel’s offering and turned away from Cain.
Abel was furious- not with G-d, but with his brother. Instead of contemplating why G-d had ignored him, he shifted the blame to Abel.
Cain didn’t bring an offering to serve G-d, but to satisfy himself. Cain wanted to get away with the bare minimum to satisfy himself that he had serviced G-d. Abel happily stretched himself beyond his means to satisfy G-d.
“Commitment to G-d” that’s based on the what’s-in-it-for-me philosophy can have devastating results. Religion and spirituality are about Higher Purpose, not Self.
If our world had more Abels and fewer Cains, we’d be living in peace.
Friday, October 17, 2008
The Sukkah- template for the Jewish home
Ever since the Jews left Egypt some 3500 years ago, we've been wandering the globe. Be it due to pogroms, expulsions or our innate itch for change, we've crisscrossed the globe numerous times through our history.
That may explain why we resonate with the Sukkah- a temporary home that can be set up quickly just about anywhere. In a sense, the Sukkah represents the Jewish home: It's not rooted in one place, requires little to build and can be constructed from readily accessible materials.
But, I suspect there's more to the Sukkah's message for a Jewish home. After all, the Torah expects us to make it our home- in every sense- for a full week right at the start of the Jewish year. Whatever we do in the first days of our year impacts how the rest of the year progresses- and Sukkah is no exception.
To build a kosher Sukkah, you need to have two primary elements:
1. Walls that are stable.
2. A roof that is not.
If your Sukkah walls flap in the wind, your Sukkah may not be kosher. A Sukkah's roof that is impermeable is a no-no (you need to see the stars or at least let the rain in).
Regardless of where in the world our People has made its home, we have always built on these two principles.
Our walls are solid. What people do in their societies is their business, but we preserve an environment of our own inside our homes. Our Jewish identity remains pristine, safely preserves inside the stable walls that define us, regardless of where we are.
And, no matter how tough our situation might be, we keep an eye out for the heavens. There is no firm ceiling to our potential, to the possibility for change and improvement. At all times, we remain aware of the gaps above us that allow us to dream, to transcend the here-and-now, and to succeed.
Happy Sukkos!
That may explain why we resonate with the Sukkah- a temporary home that can be set up quickly just about anywhere. In a sense, the Sukkah represents the Jewish home: It's not rooted in one place, requires little to build and can be constructed from readily accessible materials.
But, I suspect there's more to the Sukkah's message for a Jewish home. After all, the Torah expects us to make it our home- in every sense- for a full week right at the start of the Jewish year. Whatever we do in the first days of our year impacts how the rest of the year progresses- and Sukkah is no exception.
To build a kosher Sukkah, you need to have two primary elements:
1. Walls that are stable.
2. A roof that is not.
If your Sukkah walls flap in the wind, your Sukkah may not be kosher. A Sukkah's roof that is impermeable is a no-no (you need to see the stars or at least let the rain in).
Regardless of where in the world our People has made its home, we have always built on these two principles.
Our walls are solid. What people do in their societies is their business, but we preserve an environment of our own inside our homes. Our Jewish identity remains pristine, safely preserves inside the stable walls that define us, regardless of where we are.
And, no matter how tough our situation might be, we keep an eye out for the heavens. There is no firm ceiling to our potential, to the possibility for change and improvement. At all times, we remain aware of the gaps above us that allow us to dream, to transcend the here-and-now, and to succeed.
Happy Sukkos!
Saturday, October 11, 2008
And now?
Yom Kippur a powerful time.
And this year was extra powerful. Boruch Hashem, we had a full-house for the Shul services, everyone was focused on davening and connecting and the atmosphere was electric. We ended Neilah on a high with the sounds of "Shema Yisroel" and the lively Napoleon's March reverberating in our ears.
Soon enough, the last Shul members headed home and the kids went to sleep. In the quiet I mused over how Yom Kippur catapults us into transcendence, and then leaves us in suspended animation. Our challenge is to crystallize the experience, capture the high, take it home and live differently for the next year.
But how?
By the next morning, I had my answer.
Dr. Schneur Levin had been my paediatrician. I have very fond memories of his boundless love for us kiddie-patients, his quirky humour and his eccentric homemade remedies. Visits to the doctor fun and his house-calls (yes, he still did house-calls) lifted the mood of the whole family.
I hadn't seen Dr. Levin for at least 25 years. I "outgrown" him and moved on to a regular GP a couple of years before my Barmitzvah and we only crossed paths sporadically over the next few years.
On Friday morning, I heard that Dr. Levin had passed away. I decided to attend his funeral to say a final thank-you for all the amazing things he did for me as a kid.
As the funeral procession made its way through the lines of graves, I walked alongside an old friend's father.
'They could have written a book on him," he said, "I could tell you a hundred of stories about him".
"Ok," I prompted, "Then at least tell me one."
Dave told me how Schneur Levin had attended the "Jewish Government" school in Doornfontein. Apparently, the school still operates today as a regular government school (there are no Jews living in that part of Johannesburg any longer).
Some years ago, Dr. Levin visited the school, probably for "old times sake". He chatted to the staff, walked the familiar corridors and reminisced about the "old days". He also paged through the old school journal and found the entry from the day his brother had fallen in the playground and broken his leg.
The journal entry recorded how the school had called for an ambulance, which had cost the equivalent of 25c, to take him to hospital.
Now, Dr. Levin knew that his parents did not have that sort of money in those days and realised that the school must have paid for the ambulance.
Without hesitating, he calculated the 30-or-so years worth of interest on the 25c and handed the school an donation to that effect!
That's when I realised it was no coincidence that Dr. Levin was escorted from this world on that day. After all, he held the clue to translating the inspiration of Yom Kippur: Be a mentsch.
And this year was extra powerful. Boruch Hashem, we had a full-house for the Shul services, everyone was focused on davening and connecting and the atmosphere was electric. We ended Neilah on a high with the sounds of "Shema Yisroel" and the lively Napoleon's March reverberating in our ears.
Soon enough, the last Shul members headed home and the kids went to sleep. In the quiet I mused over how Yom Kippur catapults us into transcendence, and then leaves us in suspended animation. Our challenge is to crystallize the experience, capture the high, take it home and live differently for the next year.
But how?
By the next morning, I had my answer.
Dr. Schneur Levin had been my paediatrician. I have very fond memories of his boundless love for us kiddie-patients, his quirky humour and his eccentric homemade remedies. Visits to the doctor fun and his house-calls (yes, he still did house-calls) lifted the mood of the whole family.
I hadn't seen Dr. Levin for at least 25 years. I "outgrown" him and moved on to a regular GP a couple of years before my Barmitzvah and we only crossed paths sporadically over the next few years.
On Friday morning, I heard that Dr. Levin had passed away. I decided to attend his funeral to say a final thank-you for all the amazing things he did for me as a kid.
As the funeral procession made its way through the lines of graves, I walked alongside an old friend's father.
'They could have written a book on him," he said, "I could tell you a hundred of stories about him".
"Ok," I prompted, "Then at least tell me one."
Dave told me how Schneur Levin had attended the "Jewish Government" school in Doornfontein. Apparently, the school still operates today as a regular government school (there are no Jews living in that part of Johannesburg any longer).
Some years ago, Dr. Levin visited the school, probably for "old times sake". He chatted to the staff, walked the familiar corridors and reminisced about the "old days". He also paged through the old school journal and found the entry from the day his brother had fallen in the playground and broken his leg.
The journal entry recorded how the school had called for an ambulance, which had cost the equivalent of 25c, to take him to hospital.
Now, Dr. Levin knew that his parents did not have that sort of money in those days and realised that the school must have paid for the ambulance.
Without hesitating, he calculated the 30-or-so years worth of interest on the 25c and handed the school an donation to that effect!
That's when I realised it was no coincidence that Dr. Levin was escorted from this world on that day. After all, he held the clue to translating the inspiration of Yom Kippur: Be a mentsch.
Friday, September 26, 2008
Shopping through life
I'll admit it publicly: I'm not a great shopper. Unless it's a bookshop, I'm itching to get out from the moment I arrive.
Pick 'n Pay Hypermarket in Norwood is the Jewish woman's shopping mecca- and a shopaphobe's nightmare. Certain times of year transform this normally hectic palace of purchase into chaos unleashed. Pre-Yom Tov is one of those times. Mix pre-Yom Tov with a public holiday plus end-of-month shopping and you have a recipe for bedlam.
My wife and I arrived, set on getting what we needed and getting out in record time. Our headlong thrust slowed to a crawl as we bumped into at least one friend/ congregant/ shiur-attendee per aisle. At one point I doubted we'd make it home in time for Rosh Hashanah.
Relief at seeing the tills looming ahead was also short-lived. Long lines snaked back into the store from each one of them and it seemed that nobody was moving (I figured that we'd at least have a minyan if we were still there by Yom Tov).
Fortunately, my personal Moshiach arrived in the nick of time in the form of the ever-jovial Rabbi Yehoshua Chaiton, who pulled his overflowing shopping cart alongside our twin trolleys.
"So," he began with a mischievous smile, "What's the Kabbalah of shopping?"
We had plenty of time to ruminate while on line, and we worked out that everything you need to learn about life, you could learn in a supermarket:
For a start, as the Mishnah in Pirkei Avos (Ethics of the Fathers) says, "You are born against your will". We have no option but to shop, the merchandise doesn't come to us of its own accord.
Once you're in the store, you wander through the aisles, selecting products and placing them in your cart. You may have the whole supermarket mapped out and follow a carefully planned route from the paper products to the freezer section. Or you might run haphazardly back and forth as you remember what you should have picked up three aisles earlier.
Some of us know where we're headed in life, others go in circles.
An interesting supermarket phenomenon is the way you keep bumping into the same people again and again as you go along.
Some people keep coming into our lives too- we don't always know why they keep appearing, and sometimes they even seem to get in the way.
Now, imagine coming from a small town with nothing more than a one-man convenience store and entering a supermarket for the first time. You'd stumble around wide-eyed at the variety and the sheer quantity of products. You may even be tempted to take "one of these" and "one of those" and pile your shopping cart high. You'd soon realise, though, that there's only so much your shopping cart can hold, and only so much you can use.
Life offers diverse experiences and opportunities, but nobody has it all. Take what you can handle and make a success of it, rather than trying to get everything.
As you meander through the rows of products, you might not find what you're looking for. Luckily, help is at hand. Look out for people wearing the store uniform and they will readily assist you. Just be sure to ask the store employees for advice and not the casual packers, who may look like they know what's what, but are really only familiar with one product.
Look around you and you'll find guides for life, people who know more than you do and can make your journey more pleasant and your goals more accessible.
Every once in a while you'll encounter friendly, yet persistent people who want to sell you an "amazing new product" you don't want and most likely don't need.
Avoid the candy-coated superficialities of life, regardless of how well they may be marketed, and stay focused on what you really want to achieve.
Any good store will warn you to buy frozen goods last and your common sense says do the same with eggs.
Living life to the fullest is about prioritizing right, so that the sensitive parts of living don't crack under the pressure, and so you can experience special moments while they last.
Once you've selected everything you need, it's time to check out. You can really have whatever you want from the shop, but you have to pay for it. At the till, you may decide you don't really need an item or realise that the advertised price was wrong and the bargain you thought you were getting is really no bargain. No problem, you can discard the unwanted items before you pay.
Rosh Hashanah is checkout time for the year. As we line up at the Supernal Till, it's time to reflect on this year's journey. Did we rush through the aisles, collecting stuff or did we stop to greet the friends we met en route? What have we loaded in our life's trolley? Do we really want to take all the things of last year with us or would we rather get rid of some of the poor choices we've made, while we still can?
There's little time left before the New Year, but it's still not too late to run back into the store and add one or two things to our cart. Another mitzvah or an extra prayer; a smile or a phone call.
It's closing time for 5768, time to get your shopping in order.
Pick 'n Pay Hypermarket in Norwood is the Jewish woman's shopping mecca- and a shopaphobe's nightmare. Certain times of year transform this normally hectic palace of purchase into chaos unleashed. Pre-Yom Tov is one of those times. Mix pre-Yom Tov with a public holiday plus end-of-month shopping and you have a recipe for bedlam.
My wife and I arrived, set on getting what we needed and getting out in record time. Our headlong thrust slowed to a crawl as we bumped into at least one friend/ congregant/ shiur-attendee per aisle. At one point I doubted we'd make it home in time for Rosh Hashanah.
Relief at seeing the tills looming ahead was also short-lived. Long lines snaked back into the store from each one of them and it seemed that nobody was moving (I figured that we'd at least have a minyan if we were still there by Yom Tov).
Fortunately, my personal Moshiach arrived in the nick of time in the form of the ever-jovial Rabbi Yehoshua Chaiton, who pulled his overflowing shopping cart alongside our twin trolleys.
"So," he began with a mischievous smile, "What's the Kabbalah of shopping?"
We had plenty of time to ruminate while on line, and we worked out that everything you need to learn about life, you could learn in a supermarket:
For a start, as the Mishnah in Pirkei Avos (Ethics of the Fathers) says, "You are born against your will". We have no option but to shop, the merchandise doesn't come to us of its own accord.
Once you're in the store, you wander through the aisles, selecting products and placing them in your cart. You may have the whole supermarket mapped out and follow a carefully planned route from the paper products to the freezer section. Or you might run haphazardly back and forth as you remember what you should have picked up three aisles earlier.
Some of us know where we're headed in life, others go in circles.
An interesting supermarket phenomenon is the way you keep bumping into the same people again and again as you go along.
Some people keep coming into our lives too- we don't always know why they keep appearing, and sometimes they even seem to get in the way.
Now, imagine coming from a small town with nothing more than a one-man convenience store and entering a supermarket for the first time. You'd stumble around wide-eyed at the variety and the sheer quantity of products. You may even be tempted to take "one of these" and "one of those" and pile your shopping cart high. You'd soon realise, though, that there's only so much your shopping cart can hold, and only so much you can use.
Life offers diverse experiences and opportunities, but nobody has it all. Take what you can handle and make a success of it, rather than trying to get everything.
As you meander through the rows of products, you might not find what you're looking for. Luckily, help is at hand. Look out for people wearing the store uniform and they will readily assist you. Just be sure to ask the store employees for advice and not the casual packers, who may look like they know what's what, but are really only familiar with one product.
Look around you and you'll find guides for life, people who know more than you do and can make your journey more pleasant and your goals more accessible.
Every once in a while you'll encounter friendly, yet persistent people who want to sell you an "amazing new product" you don't want and most likely don't need.
Avoid the candy-coated superficialities of life, regardless of how well they may be marketed, and stay focused on what you really want to achieve.
Any good store will warn you to buy frozen goods last and your common sense says do the same with eggs.
Living life to the fullest is about prioritizing right, so that the sensitive parts of living don't crack under the pressure, and so you can experience special moments while they last.
Once you've selected everything you need, it's time to check out. You can really have whatever you want from the shop, but you have to pay for it. At the till, you may decide you don't really need an item or realise that the advertised price was wrong and the bargain you thought you were getting is really no bargain. No problem, you can discard the unwanted items before you pay.
Rosh Hashanah is checkout time for the year. As we line up at the Supernal Till, it's time to reflect on this year's journey. Did we rush through the aisles, collecting stuff or did we stop to greet the friends we met en route? What have we loaded in our life's trolley? Do we really want to take all the things of last year with us or would we rather get rid of some of the poor choices we've made, while we still can?
There's little time left before the New Year, but it's still not too late to run back into the store and add one or two things to our cart. Another mitzvah or an extra prayer; a smile or a phone call.
It's closing time for 5768, time to get your shopping in order.
Monday, September 08, 2008
The Great Escape!
Rosh Hashanah is the New Year- we all know that. Logically, then, we are now at the end of the year. And “end of the year” means time to get away, doesn’t it?
It’s been a challenging year and most of us would probably appreciate a break before the third quarter. Imagine disappearing into the bush or to an exotic island just to escape it all…
The good news is Elul is a month of escape.
No, it’s not the Jewish December, where you leave your home, business and neighborhood, only to take your self (and your real issues) with you “on holiday”.
This is the time of year to get away from it all; to really escape.
Humans are designed with great ambitions, but frequently let themselves down. Our spirit guns for lofty achievements, but our natural cynicism and apathy keep us grounded. Eventually, we decide that who we are is who we will remain and there’s no point in trying to achieve spectacular things- at least not spiritually.
Hashem knows how we think, so He offers us 30 days a year to escape our self-mistrust and step into a world where anything is possible.
Like our Parsha’s “Cities of Refuge” that protected an inadvertent murderer from his victim’s avengers, Elul shelters us from every built-in mechanism we have that blocks soul-progress.
Simply put- if you daven a little extra, make it to a minyan, join a shiur or help another person during the next couple of weeks, the payoff will astonish you.
It’s time for the “Great Escape”- don’t squander the opportunity.
It’s been a challenging year and most of us would probably appreciate a break before the third quarter. Imagine disappearing into the bush or to an exotic island just to escape it all…
The good news is Elul is a month of escape.
No, it’s not the Jewish December, where you leave your home, business and neighborhood, only to take your self (and your real issues) with you “on holiday”.
This is the time of year to get away from it all; to really escape.
Humans are designed with great ambitions, but frequently let themselves down. Our spirit guns for lofty achievements, but our natural cynicism and apathy keep us grounded. Eventually, we decide that who we are is who we will remain and there’s no point in trying to achieve spectacular things- at least not spiritually.
Hashem knows how we think, so He offers us 30 days a year to escape our self-mistrust and step into a world where anything is possible.
Like our Parsha’s “Cities of Refuge” that protected an inadvertent murderer from his victim’s avengers, Elul shelters us from every built-in mechanism we have that blocks soul-progress.
Simply put- if you daven a little extra, make it to a minyan, join a shiur or help another person during the next couple of weeks, the payoff will astonish you.
It’s time for the “Great Escape”- don’t squander the opportunity.
Friday, August 01, 2008
WARNING: Jewish terror plot!
A news report out of the Middle East this week warns of a Jewish terrorist ploy that will threaten one of Islam’s holiest sites. The article quotes a senior Islamic spokesperson who claims that a coordinated effort is under way in 200 locations globally to destroy the Al Aqsa mosque, on the Temple Mount.If the article is correct, I could be arrested under International anti-terrorism laws.
The claim fingers Chabad as an extremist Jewish movement, looking to establish a new Temple in Jerusalem. Zahi Nujidat, of the Islamic movement, notes that a three-week course on the Beis Hamikdash being held at Chabad centers worldwide indicates the movement’s intentions to destroy Al Aqsa to make way for a Jewish Temple.
I guess they’re not wrong. We do yearn for our Temple to be rebuilt. We do study about it at this time of the year, because this is when we recall the Temple’s destruction- and when we are most hopeful for its restoration.
But, we don’t wish harm on anyone in the process; we’ve never attacked people in the name of religion.
We see our Temple as a source of peace for the whole world. Praying and hoping for its rebuilding means dreaming of a better world- for all.
Our Temple will reverberate with prayer-calls, but these will be voices of blessing, peace and goodwill for all people.
The Talmud notes that, if the nations of the world had appreciated how much blessing the Jewish Temple brought them, they would have sent their armies to Jerusalem- to protect it.
Terrorism may be threatened by our Bais Hamikdash, but upstanding citizens around the world have everything to gain when it is restored.
May it happen speedily!
Thursday, July 24, 2008
Tractor terror
Yet another Arab terrorist attack in Jerusalem, this time just a little closer to home. Ghasam Abu-Tir used a mechanical digger to smash three cars and a public bus, injuring 11 people before police shot him.
Just a few meters away, a large group of our local rabbis sat eating lunch. Some saw the tractor attack, the rest dived to the floor when the shooting began.
We’ve seen rocket attacks, suicide bombings, shootings and knifings in Israel. Now, it seems there’s a new terror tactic. It’s called “Beating ploughshares into swords”.
I remember a 1991 magazine article that described how Armscor had started using technology that had originally been developed for weapons’ production to produce better-quality tractors.
Over the last 15 or so years, the world has shifted towards converting military technology and hardware into peaceful uses. Radar, GPS, nuclear energy, Internet and satellites are the better known examples of war-technology being used for useful purposes. Lesser known would be Kleenex (originally designed for gas masks), disused rifles that comprise avalanche-prevention systems in the USA and testing performance and stability of trucks on tank-testing sites.
“Beating swords into ploughshares” is a prophecy regarding the Age of Moshiach. As we draw closer to that special time, the world is already starting to behave accordingly.
Well, at least most of the world, with the notable exception of East Jerusalem.
Shortly after the destruction of the second Temple, Rabbi Akivah and some colleagues were walking past the ruins, when a fox darted out of the site of the Holy of holies.
Seeing this, the rabbis began to cry. Rabbi Akivah laughed.
“Why are you laughing?” they challenged him.
“Why are you crying?” Rabbi Akivah retorted.
“We are crying, because we’ve just seen a fox run out of the site that was so holy only the Kohen Gadol was allowed to enter, and only once a year. This is exactly what the prophet Micha predicted: ‘Tzion will be plowed over as a field.’”
“And that’s why I am laughing,” Rabbi Akivah explained, “Seeing the prophecy of Micha has been fulfilled assures me that Isaiah’s prophecy of the Temple’s rebuilding will also be fulfilled.”
Jerusalem is being plowed over again, this time with mechanized ploughs. It fits the Three Weeks of mourning the destruction of the Beis Hamikdash.
Now that we’re seeing Micha’s dire prediction happening all over again, let’s hope it means Isaiah’s prophecy is about to be fulfilled.
Just a few meters away, a large group of our local rabbis sat eating lunch. Some saw the tractor attack, the rest dived to the floor when the shooting began.
We’ve seen rocket attacks, suicide bombings, shootings and knifings in Israel. Now, it seems there’s a new terror tactic. It’s called “Beating ploughshares into swords”.
I remember a 1991 magazine article that described how Armscor had started using technology that had originally been developed for weapons’ production to produce better-quality tractors.
Over the last 15 or so years, the world has shifted towards converting military technology and hardware into peaceful uses. Radar, GPS, nuclear energy, Internet and satellites are the better known examples of war-technology being used for useful purposes. Lesser known would be Kleenex (originally designed for gas masks), disused rifles that comprise avalanche-prevention systems in the USA and testing performance and stability of trucks on tank-testing sites.
“Beating swords into ploughshares” is a prophecy regarding the Age of Moshiach. As we draw closer to that special time, the world is already starting to behave accordingly.
Well, at least most of the world, with the notable exception of East Jerusalem.
Shortly after the destruction of the second Temple, Rabbi Akivah and some colleagues were walking past the ruins, when a fox darted out of the site of the Holy of holies.
Seeing this, the rabbis began to cry. Rabbi Akivah laughed.
“Why are you laughing?” they challenged him.
“Why are you crying?” Rabbi Akivah retorted.
“We are crying, because we’ve just seen a fox run out of the site that was so holy only the Kohen Gadol was allowed to enter, and only once a year. This is exactly what the prophet Micha predicted: ‘Tzion will be plowed over as a field.’”
“And that’s why I am laughing,” Rabbi Akivah explained, “Seeing the prophecy of Micha has been fulfilled assures me that Isaiah’s prophecy of the Temple’s rebuilding will also be fulfilled.”
Jerusalem is being plowed over again, this time with mechanized ploughs. It fits the Three Weeks of mourning the destruction of the Beis Hamikdash.
Now that we’re seeing Micha’s dire prediction happening all over again, let’s hope it means Isaiah’s prophecy is about to be fulfilled.
Friday, July 11, 2008
Dear Mr. Ahmadinejad, can’t you say something nice for a change?
Ali Shirazi (he’s the Iranian guy who threatened to “burn Israel” if provoked) chose the right week to open his mouth- only he doesn’t know it.
As Ahmadinejad oversees missile tests and Iranian clerics spew hate-speech, Jews are studying details of the same story, set in a similar region, at a different time.
Balak, king of Moab, was afraid of the Jews. He had witnessed their miraculous victories against mighty armies, his own neighbours and allies. He had seen this band of refugees become a powerful nation. Balak appreciated that conventional warfare had failed against these people in the past, and that he needed a special weapon.
Balak hired Balaam, a deeply spiritual man; a prophet renowned for his unique ability to harm with words. Most importantly, Balaam was an avowed anti-Semite.
Together, they chose a prime vantage point from which to launch their barrage against the Children of Israel. With the entire Jewish nation in his sights, Balaam set about preparing his unique ammunition- inescapable curses that would destroy the People more effectively than any army could.
Balak looked on smugly, impatiently waiting to see the Jews’ certain fate unfold before his eyes.
It never happened.
Balaam, who could only curse, only see the bad, only spout evil- blessed the Jews! Balak was beside himself, but Balaam was unstoppable as blessing after blessing spilled from his mouth.
What went right? How did this wholly toxic human being turn benevolent?
Balaam himself answered that in his blessing: “Mah tovu oholecho Yaakov, mishkenosecha Yisroel- How good are your tents, Jacob; your dwellings, Israel”. Words that are so potent, we repeat them daily in our prayers.
As Balaam’s hateful eye focused on his intended victims, he was overwhelmed by their unusual camp-formation. Each tent was positioned so that everyone had complete privacy. Their unity and mutual respect made the Jews immune to Balaam’s verbal assault.
Love and respect for every Jew is potent stuff. It not only protects us from harm, it transforms our enemies and even causes them to bless us.
Let’s do more to show respect and concern for each other, to allow people their space and privacy, without ignoring their needs.
Let’s see what Shirazi and Ahmadinejad have to say then. It might be quite miraculous.
As Ahmadinejad oversees missile tests and Iranian clerics spew hate-speech, Jews are studying details of the same story, set in a similar region, at a different time.
Balak, king of Moab, was afraid of the Jews. He had witnessed their miraculous victories against mighty armies, his own neighbours and allies. He had seen this band of refugees become a powerful nation. Balak appreciated that conventional warfare had failed against these people in the past, and that he needed a special weapon.
Balak hired Balaam, a deeply spiritual man; a prophet renowned for his unique ability to harm with words. Most importantly, Balaam was an avowed anti-Semite.
Together, they chose a prime vantage point from which to launch their barrage against the Children of Israel. With the entire Jewish nation in his sights, Balaam set about preparing his unique ammunition- inescapable curses that would destroy the People more effectively than any army could.
Balak looked on smugly, impatiently waiting to see the Jews’ certain fate unfold before his eyes.
It never happened.
Balaam, who could only curse, only see the bad, only spout evil- blessed the Jews! Balak was beside himself, but Balaam was unstoppable as blessing after blessing spilled from his mouth.
What went right? How did this wholly toxic human being turn benevolent?
Balaam himself answered that in his blessing: “Mah tovu oholecho Yaakov, mishkenosecha Yisroel- How good are your tents, Jacob; your dwellings, Israel”. Words that are so potent, we repeat them daily in our prayers.
As Balaam’s hateful eye focused on his intended victims, he was overwhelmed by their unusual camp-formation. Each tent was positioned so that everyone had complete privacy. Their unity and mutual respect made the Jews immune to Balaam’s verbal assault.
Love and respect for every Jew is potent stuff. It not only protects us from harm, it transforms our enemies and even causes them to bless us.
Let’s do more to show respect and concern for each other, to allow people their space and privacy, without ignoring their needs.
Let’s see what Shirazi and Ahmadinejad have to say then. It might be quite miraculous.
Sunday, July 06, 2008
Paradox
Today is Gimmel Tammuz.I find this day difficult to define. Some will simply call it the yahrtzeit of the Rebbe, but it is significantly more than that. A Tzadik’s passing is anything but ordinary.
This morning I bumped into a colleague who described how a congregant had asked him: "Do I wish you 'long life' today?"
No, it's not a mournful day.
It's not a festive day either. After all, Gimmel Tammuz reminds me of the good times when the Rebbe inspired us every single week, called on us to achieve the impossible and reminded us uneqivocally that G-d runs the world and that Moshiach is on our doorstep.
Gimmel Tammuz is a day suspended between day and night, between sadness and joy, between nostalgia and hope.
This is the nature of the day- as it has been for centuries. The 3rd of Tammuz became famous over 3000 years ago, when Joshua led the Jewish nation in conquest of the Promised Land.
Overwhelmed by the Jews’ miraculous victories, the people of Givon made a truce with the invading Israelites. Soon enough five kingdoms attacked Givon, who then called on Joshua for help. G-d assured Joshua that he’d defeat those powerful armies and Joshua led his forces into battle at the Ayalon valley.
Joshua’s troops closed in on this huge allied force and, by day’s end, were poised to defeat them. It was getting late and the light was failing. After dark, they would have to stop fighting, which would allow the Canaanite forces to regroup.
G-d intervened and allowed Joshua to stop the sun just above the western horizon and suspend the moon as it rose in the east. During this unique daylight savings time, Joshua wiped out the attacking armies.
I’m sure you’ve heard that story, it’s very well-known. I doubt you knew it had happened on Tammuz 3rd. Most people don’t.
Gimmel Tammuz is a paradox. Both the sun and the moon share the sky. It is a day that’s outside of the ordinary- technically night, but still light.
On this day, the moon hangs in the darkening sky; reminding us of those wonderful times we had with the Rebbe, which are now on hold.
Yet, the sun has not set. Kabbalah defines a Tzadik’s yahrtzeit as a time of celebration, as his soul soars higher and his lifetime’s achievements resonate more strongly through the world.
Talmudic lore calls wicked people dead while they are still alive, and deems the righteous alive, even after their deaths. Jewish mysticism adds that a Tzadik’s impact on the world increases after his passing.
The Rebbe’s yahrtzeit is not simply a nostalgic time, but an empowering time.
Gimmel Tammuz is when- in the words of the Zohar- “Crying is entrenched in one side of my heart and joy in the other”.
Today reminds me how much all us Chassidim- and thousands of others- miss the Rebbe, as it reminds me that he is always with us. It is a day full of memories of his crystal-clear guidance to individuals and to nations; guidance we can still find today.
And these memories will reassure me of his crystal-clear vision that our world is in mid-preparation for Moshiach.
G-d first made Gimmel Tammuz famous with a spectacular miracle in the Ayalon valley. May He honour this Gimmel Tammuz with an even greater miracle.
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