Your Only Habit Should Be Not Doing Anything By Habit

According to management gurus, routine not only helps efficiency and productivity but also creativity. Many successful creative people swear by the routines they formed: author Stephen King famously sits down to write at the same time every morning. Routine is also a hallmark of many big thinkers: Geniuses like Steve Jobs and Albert Einstein liked to wear the same thing every day in order to not expend mental energy on wardrobe decisions.

The truth is that while there are benefits to routines, when people are too settled in their routines, complacency and contentment result. Complacency breeds apathy, one of the biggest obstacles to growth and progress. It also leads to poor decision-making and being blind to new choices and possibilities that could benefit us.

On Feb. 5, 2014, London Underground workers went on a 48-hour strike, forcing the closings of several tube stops. The affected commuters had to find alternate routes. When the strike ended, most people reverted to their old patterns. But roughly one in 20 stuck with the new route, shaving 6.7 minutes from what had been an average 32-minute commute. The closings imposed by the strike forced experimentation with alternate routes, yielding valuable results. And if the strike had been longer, even more improvements would probably have been discovered.

Researchers have long studied why people purchase name brand items when the equivalent generic is available with a significant cost savings which could compound to real money. This phenomenon is noteworthy for drugs, when generics and branded options are chemically equivalent. Why continue to buy a name-brand aspirin when the same chemical compound sits nearby at a cheaper price? Scientists have already verified that the two forms of aspirin are identical. The only difference is the label and the price. And yet, most buy the name brand. Why? Habit, ritual, and thoughtless routine.

So on the one hand, habits are powerful, they can help promote creativity and efficiency. But on the other hand, habits and routines can deny us the openness and flexibility to learn, to see new things, to grow, experiment, adjust and make changes that will improve us and improve our lives.

One study estimated that 47 percent of all our behaviors are the result of habits we have formed. That can be leveraged in a positive way. Just think about it – if we form the right habits—being on time, showing patience, being generous—we have half our day preprogrammed in a way we can be proud of. However, the downside is that nearly half our lives is not the result of thoughtful consideration, mindful choices, but simply having settled into habits and routines mindlessly. That is no way to live.

The mitzvah to light the Chanuka candles begins after sunset and the Gemara (Shabbos 21a) tells us, it extends עד שתכלה רגל מן השוק, until people are no longer walking around in the marketplace. The goal and purpose of the menorah is פרסומי ניסא to publicize God’s great miracles and so once there are no longer people present to see the lights, the mitzvah is no longer applicable. In the time of the gemara, and even the Shulchan Aruch, this time was somewhere relatively shortly after nightfall when people couldn’t function outside without natural light. Today, with artificial light, the time is significantly later.

The Sefas Emes quotes his grandfather, the Chiddushei Ha’Rim, who offers a homiletical interpretation of this measure, one that gives great insight into the essence of the holiday. עד שתכלה רגל מן השוק, says the Sefas Emes is not describing how long in time the candles must be lit, but how deep the light of the candles must penetrate into our hearts and our habits. He suggested don’t read it רגל, foot, but rather עד שתכלה הֶרְגֵל מן השוק, we must experience the light of the candles and the richness of these 8 days until it breaks our habits, jolts us from our routine and enables us to take a step back and look at our lives.

So many of us are caught on the hamster wheel of life. We wake up, go to work, exercise, brainlessly relax, go to sleep, wake up and start again. Or we wake up, make lunches, drive carpool, shop, cook, do homework, serve dinner, collapse, wake up and start again. Or we do some combination of the two. What they all have in common is being carried by inertia and momentum, moving at such a fast pace that there is no time or space, no margin or room to ever stop, look, assess, evaluate and mindfully determine if we are allocating our time, energy and resources in the maximum way, or if we are just creatures of routines, products of habits that were somehow formed at some time and have become our default, our normal, our assumed.

There is a beautiful campaign for Chanuka called Savor the Moment. It calls for Jews across the world to go screen-free for 30 minutes after candle lighting, the minimum necessary time for the candles to burn. For too many of us, being chained to our smartphone, tablet, laptop or TV has become routine. The average American touches his or her phone 2,617 times a day. That is a habit that needs to be broken.

The Gemara tells us הרגיל בנר הויין בנים תלמידי חכמים, one who habitually lights the candles has righteous children. The Shem MiShmuel explains that the flame of the candle looks like it is glowing constantly and consistently. Yet, the fuel that drives it is constantly changing, it is fresh and new. What our rabbis are telling us is that the only thing we should ever do by rote is never doing anything by rote and the only habit we should form is never doing things by habit. We should accustom ourselves to be like a candle, on the outside doing the same mitzvos and practices regularly, but constantly renewing and refreshing that which fuels our actions.

This Shabbos, we introduce a new siddur at BRS. Change is difficult and even uncomfortable, but change is also healthy and can revitalize, refresh and renew. The new font, layout, page numbers, paper and size of the siddur will take getting used to. Until then, embrace the newness by allowing it to inspire a renewed attitude, understanding, and performance of our prayers.

Chanuka provides us the courage and will to תכלה הרגל, to break the habits. When we do, we will truly see the light, both of the candles and of our lives.

Being Single Should Not Have to Mean Being Alone

Image result for alone Imagine not being invited for Shabbos dinner and going home from shul to eat all alone. You eat, you read, you read some more and when you look at the clock, it’s not even 8:00 pm.

For some that sounds like a dream come true, and maybe it is for one week. But what if that was your experience each and every Friday night. While others spend their week looking forward to laughing, singing, talking, and playing games, you experience each week the anxiety of waiting and wondering if an invitation will come, and, if so, from whom and who else will be there.

At what point during the week do you stop waiting and start dropping hints in the hope that someone will give you the dignity of at least acting as if they thought to invite you, rather than your having to invite yourself. You don’t want to feel like a chesed case or be assigned to people to host you, so when the invitation doesn’t come, you just go home and eat the backup minimal spread you put together in case nobody at shul asked you to come home with them.

If the above depiction seems harsh, it is a paraphrase of what has been described to me by those who experience it directly. If we understood that this was the alternative, we wouldn’t trade our full Shabbos tables, busy Friday nights, cooking, cleaning, serving and clearing for anything in the world.

We, the greater Jewish community, excel in times of crisis. We show up, we volunteer, we coordinate, pitch in, take over and do whatever is necessary to help those going through illness or loss to make sure that they don’t feel alone, isolated or abandoned, even for a moment. But what about those who are chronically alone, either after the crisis passes or without a crisis ever having arisen?

I was recently talking to a couple of people from our shul about the experience of being single in an observant, family-centric community. They answered by sharing a letter with me to pass on to you. These are their words:

Dear BRS Member,

I’m your neighbor. I live on your street. We wave to each other during the week as we get out of our cars, as we come home from work, or collect our mail. We smile and act as if we know each other. We say “Good Shabbos” to each other as we pass each other on our way to shul. But as friendly as we are to each other, you may not know this – I sit by myself eating Shabbat meals week after week.

While you sing zmirot and share words of Torah, I thumb through the weekly while I sip my soup alone. I’ve tried to fill my own table by inviting guests. It’s wonderful to host others, but as a single person it is difficult to sustain these activities week after week.

As I watch you invite your many friends into your home, I think to myself. “Isn’t there room at their table for just one more?” I’m happy to bring a delicious dish or a D’var Torah, or participate in a lively discussion. I’d be happy to contribute to your Shabbat table. I love living in the BRS community, but often, my Shabbats and Yom Tovim are long and lonely.

Perhaps the next time that you are planning your menu and guest list for Shabbat, you could please consider your single neighbor and add just one more chair to your table.

Our conversation and their letter got me thinking. Here are a few thoughts:

To those who are married:

Regularly ask yourself, whom do you know who might be alone and would greatly appreciate your invitation. Don’t make it look as if you are doing them a favor by saying things like, “do you have your meals covered” or “do you have a place to go,” but invite them like you would anyone else – in advance, with class, and with happiness that your guest can put it on their calendar.

Being single doesn’t define a person; it is one facet of his or her life. Don’t invite singles as a group, as if it is your weekend to offer them Invite and engage your neighbors based on their personalities, professions, interests and views.

Don’t just think about Shabbos and Yom Tov meals. There are other times during the year when it is painful to be alone. Invite someone to come over to join you for Chanuka candle lighting (though each person needs to light in their own home), exchanging gifts and making latkes. Make room at your Thanksgiving table, at the meal before the Yom Kippur fast and other such times.

To singles:

Don’t feel or act entitled to invitations. Show up with wine, flowers or a gift, offer to make something, or make a donation to Tomchei Shabbos to say thank you, but don’t take the hospitality for granted.

You may not be able to offer home hospitality in return, but you can offer to take someone who has hosted you several times out for dinner to say thank you.

Don’t only rely on invitations; take initiative. Arrange pot luck dinners, coordinate singles events and meals, and network with friends, so you are on their radar and in their thoughts.

As a result of an event in the parsha last week, we refrain from eating the sciatic nerve, the gid ha’nashe. Why? Before going to meet Esav, Ya’akov Avinu went back to retrieve “forgotten items” and he ended up wrestling the Angel of Esav the entire night. We commemorate the injury Ya’akov sustained by abstaining from eating from the place where he was wounded. Normally, when our people triumph over an enemy, we commemorate the event by eating, not by abstaining, so why the prohibition of gid ha’nashe?

The Chizkuni explains that this mitzvah doesn’t correspond to our triumph, but rather reminds us how Ya’akov got injured in the first place. Vayivaser Ya’akov levado, Ya’akov was all alone and as a result he was vulnerable and exposed and ultimately attacked. The mitzvah not to eat the gid ha’nashe reminds us of our obligation to make sure a Jew is never alone again.

So, the next time you are planning to host, set an extra seat or two for your neighbors and ensure that nobody ever has to wrestle with being alone.

Thanksgiving & Being a Jew

Was it President Lincoln in 1863, President Washington in 1789, or the Pilgrims themselves in 1622? While historians may debate when the holiday of Thanksgiving was first instituted, the practice of giving thanks began much earlier.

We read in last week’s parsha, Vayeitzei, that Leah names her fourth son Yehudah from the root hoda’ah out of gratitude to Hashem. Indeed, the Talmud (Berachos 7b) quotes Rav Shimon bar Yochai as teaching that, in fact, Leah was the first person in history to say “thank you” to Hashem.

How could that be? Did Adom Ha’Rishon upon being exiled from Gan Eden and learning about second chances not say “tov l’hodos laShem, it is good to thank the Almighty?” Did Noach and Malki Tzedek not express their gratitude to the Master of the Universe? Did Eliezer not communicate appreciation for divine assistance in fulfilling his mission of finding a wife for Yitzchak? And the list could go on. How could the Talmud make such a bold assertion when it seems from the Torah itself not to be true?

Rav Shmuel Binyamin Sofer of Pressburg offers a beautiful suggestion. Yes, there were individuals prior to Leah who had expressed gratitude. However, their gratitude was always in response to a supernatural phenomenon, to the revealed hand of God in their life. Leah, in contrast, was the first to say thank you for something which others considered completely natural. Her thank you wasn’t the result of being miraculously saved or being given a second chance. Leah expressed deep gratitude to Hashem for the natural, biological experience of having a baby. Her thank you was an implicit acknowledgment that even that which appears natural, regular or ordinary is also the result of the extraordinary hand of the Divine.

As we mark the holiday of Thanksgiving this weekend, it is an opportunity to remind ourselves that the most authentic thanks is for that which we are tempted to take for granted and not even recognize at all. If you woke up this morning and you have all your faculties, you should give thanks. If you have a roof over your head and food to eat, you should give thanks. If you are blessed with a spouse and children, you should give thanks.

And as our brothers and sisters in Israel have tragically learned too often of late, if when you go to sleep at night, everyone in your family and in your home is as healthy and well as they were when you and they woke up, you should give tremendous thanks.

The great Rav Yeruchem Levovitz offers another answer to our question. He explains that most people say thank you in order to pay off their debt of gratitude. Someone does something nice for us and in a quid pro quo, we say thank you to them to settle the score. Indeed, in each of the incidents that preceded Leah saying thank you, the speaker offered a one-time expression of appreciation and moved on.

Leah did something categorically different. She named her son Yehudah. She named him, “I am grateful.” Every time she called out his name – “Yehudah come for supper, Yehudah did you do your homework, Yehudah – what time will you be home tonight,” she reawakened her sense of appreciation. Unlike the others who said thank you and paid off their debt of gratitude, Leah formulated a feeling of thanks that was sustained, perpetual, and that was felt each and every day on a consistent basis.

Rav Yeruchem explains that this is what Leah meant when she gave him his name. “Hapa’am odeh es Hashem?” Should I only thank Hashem this one time and move on? No! I will continue to thank him over and over again.

The United States may officially celebrate Thanksgiving one day a year, but to be a Jew, to be the progeny of our Matriarch Leah, is to be overflowing with thanks each and every day. The Chiddushei Ha’Rim of Ger, Rav Yitzchak Meir Alter, points out that we are called Yehudim after Yehudah specifically because we as a nation are to be characterized by an ever-present sense of gratitude.

Though we read of Leah naming Yehudah last week, her message continues to resonate into this week as we celebrate the holiday of Thanksgiving. Let us live up to our name as Yehudim, and rather than be consumed by only worry and concern, feel deep and profound gratitude for all of the blessings in our lives, particularly those that we too often take for granted and fail to appreciate.

BRS Siddur Party: Why Are We Transitioning to the New RCA Siddur?

Image result for rca siddur When R’ Yosef Mendelevitch was sent to a Soviet prison, among his most precious possessions was a small Rinat Yisrael siddur he smuggled in. He did not know the words of the prayers, and barely knew how to read Hebrew, but the siddur was his connection to God, and he consequently lived in constant fear that the siddur would be discovered and destroyed.

In his autobiography, “Unbroken Spirit: A Heroic Story Of Faith, Courage and Survival,” he writes:

Then I hit upon an idea. I would copy the prayer book into an inconspicuous notebook. I volunteered that night for the night shift, knowing that when I returned in the morning the barracks would be empty, giving me a few precious hours while everyone else was at work to do the copying. This I did eagerly, knowing that in the case of a search, I wouldn’t stand a chance. After several weeks of my new daily ritual, I finished copying out the daytime prayers, and began to pray properly. Still, I feared that notebooks full of Hebrew letters might draw undue attention, so I copied the prayers once more, this time to small pieces of paper that, like my vocabulary words, I could hide in matchboxes. I copied out two sets of prayers like this, wrapping the matchboxes in plastic and burying them.

And then something surprising happened. I discovered that I knew the prayers by heart – that in all this covert copying the words had become a part of me. The discovery felt like I had acquired another freedom; I could now pray anytime, anywhere, whether it be at work or in solitary confinement. Prayer could never again be taken from me.

While the recitation of Shema is a Torah commandment and the Shemoneh Esrei was adopted by the Anshei Knesses HaGedola around the time of the destruction of the Beis HaMikdash, the first formal siddur was curated by Rav Amram Gaon around 850 CE. In the 11^th century in France, the siddur known as Machzor Vitry was printed based on the teaching of Rashi. The Rambam had his version of the siddur and appended it to the laws of prayer in his Mishneh Torah. Rav Yaakov Emden published a siddur, and we have siddurim based on the views of the Gra, Arizal, and countless others that reflect different times, places, traditions, and hashkafos, worldviews.

In 1984, the Rabbinical Council of America collaborated with ArtScroll to publish an RCA edition of its then-new, amazing siddur. Since that time, it has become a staple in many of our shuls and schools. Although our prayers and liturgy are essentially fixed, over time new commentaries emerge, and our community has particular observances and sensitivities that demand an updated edition of the siddur.

The RCA has just published a new siddur, this time in collaboration with Koren. R’ Basil Herring, the project’s editor-in-chief, did an outstanding job providing commentary throughout the siddur from Rav Soloveitchik, Rav Kook, Rav Lichtenstein, and many others. The detailed halachik instructions were written by our own Rabbi Josh Flug, and were reviewed and approved by Rav Herschel Schachter.

Just some of the features of the new siddur are:

A contemporary, relatable translation

Additional prayers for life cycle events

Prayers for the observance of Yom Hashoah, Yom Ha’atzmaut, and Yom Yerushalayim

Full Tehillim with translation

All five Megillos

Sensitivity to gender-specific prayers and practices

Essays on history, halacha, kavana and background to specific prayers

With the encouragement of the Rabbis, our board of directors voted to make the new RCA Siddur the standard at Boca Raton Synagogue and ordered 1,000 copies. As the new siddur was published, we had a special opportunity to print a BRS edition which includes a personalized dedication page and an embossed “Welcome to Boca Raton Synagogue” on the cover. I am deeply grateful to our sponsors who dedicated our edition of the siddur in memory of their parents and sisters; may their neshamos all have Aliyos through the prayers that will be offered and generated in their memory.

With so many minyanim throughout our campus, we have a continued need for most of the old siddurim. The bookcases in the lobby, however, will only contain the new siddur and the page announcements in the Rand Sanctuary will be based on its pagination.

Anyone who dedicated a siddur in the last few years will have the sponsorship sticker inserted in the inside cover of the new siddur. To sponsor a new siddur in memory or in honor of someone for $54, please contact Gloria at gloria@brsonline.org.

Image result for shulem lemmer At their Siddur Party, when children receive their siddur, there is a palpable excitement, energy and enthusiasm and we look forward to those same feelings at our BRS Siddur Party when we welcome the new siddurim on Shabbos Chanukah. That Shabbos, thanks to the generosity of George and Stephanie Saks, we will have the privilege of hosting world-renowned chazzan and singer, Shulem Lemmer, a Belzer chassid who recently signed a record deal with Universal Music Group, one of the country’s largest music corporations. We look forward to his magical voice leading us in tefillah from our new siddur for the first time.

Additionally, timed with the new siddur’s arrival, I look forward to beginning a new series called “Siddur Snippets.” Each day, between Mincha and Maariv we will spend a few minutes exploring the words of our siddur in an effort to better understand and inspire our prayer experiences. (The series will be recorded and shared in the weekly compendium of audio shiurim.)

The Gemara (Berachos 32b) says that four things need daily chizuk, strengthening, and one of them is prayer, which can easily become stale and rote. Unlike Yosef Mendelevich, we don’t have to fear that our siddurim will be confiscated. Nevertheless, we, too, can literally or figuratively annotate and personalize our prayers to acquire them and make them our own.

I hope and pray that the transition to our new siddur brings a renewed study of our tefillos and an reinvigorated excitement and inspiration to our prayers.

Tragedy Has Struck, Now What?

Image result for tree of life pittsburgh This weekend, our community lost an incredible woman, a young mother, extraordinary teacher and tremendous example, Dannie Grajower z”l. On the way back from her funeral in NY, I sent this letter to our BRS community reflecting on her loss and the horrific tragedy in Pittsburgh that is on all of our minds.

_________________________

Dear BRS Family,

This past weekend was filled with two horrific tragedies, one that shook the Jewish community globally and another that affected our community locally. Before Shabbos was even over, word spread of the tragic murder of eleven innocent people in Pittsburgh who had come to their Synagogue, Tree of Life, simply to pray, celebrate, and experience community. The ADL characterized this atrocity as the greatest anti-Semitic attack in US history. The moment Shabbos ended, we got word from Rabbi Josh Grajower that his extraordinary wife Dannie, a treasured member of, and teacher in, our community and a young mother of three, had succumbed to her illness and passed away. It is only now, on the way back from her funeral, that I have been able to take a moment to gather my thoughts and share them with you.

These two events, the loss of many lives due to the act of an evil, anti-Semitic madman, and the loss of one, a victim of a disease that cancer keeps winning despite medicine’s valiant declarations of war, are both incomprehensible and challenge our faith. How does one explain to their children how a person can arm himself with weapons, walk into a holy space and open fire with the intent of murdering as many people as possible? And how does one answer children when they ask why God would make their beloved teacher suffer from illness and pass away at such a young age?

In a remarkable display of courage and conviction, Rabbi Grajower prefaced his eulogy by stating unequivocally that firstly, we work for God, He doesn’t work for us. And secondly, he assured us it is alright to be filled with so much pain that we can’t feel closeness to Hashem. Struggling to understand is not the same as struggling to believe.

Rav Shimshon Raphael Hirsch suggests that it is no coincidence that the words Aveil and aval are closely related. An Aveil, a mourner, feels a profound sense of aval – “however,” “but,” as if to say things are different and will never again be the same.

To a degree, whether it is connecting with the global Jewish community mourning the victims of Pittsburgh, or the family, friends and our local community grieving with the Grajower and Epstein families, we can’t help but feel aval, things are different, they will never be the same.

So what will we do about that? There are few things sadder than tearing keriah on a young boy and watching him say kaddish for the loss of his mother. If this is a cliché it’s because it is completely true: this week, we need to hug our children a little tighter, love our spouses a little deeper, and generally work to recognize the blessings in our lives with at least a little more gratitude and appreciation.

When tragedy strikes, Rabbi Soloveitchik calls us to not ask, lamah, why, but le’mah, for what, what will we do now? Certainly we pause to grieve, mourn and stand in solidarity with our brothers and sisters in Pittsburgh, but that is not enough. This atrocity demands a greater response.

The brutal murder in Pittsburgh is a harsh wake-up call and reminder that as much as things change, they remain the same. Anti-Semitism is as old as the Jewish people and while we can be lulled into a false sense of security and acceptance, we must always remain vigilant and proactive in confronting our enemies and defending our people.

Historian Robert Wistrich calls anti-Semitism “the longest hatred.” The recent surge of anti-Semitism hasn’t happened in a vacuum. It has grown in a climate of rhetoric, vitriol and demonization. We must all take extreme ownership over lowering the temperature, being more careful with our words, and holding those filled with hate, discrimination or racism accountable.

In the Hagaddah we declare, b’chol dor va’dor omdim aleinu l’chaloseinu, in each generation they rise against us to exterminate us. We continue, she’lo echad bilvad amad aleiynu l’chaloseinu, which we normally translate as, it is not only one who stands against us. The Sefas Emes suggests an alternative reading. She’lo echad bilvad, when we simply are not united, when we are divided ourselves, omdim aleinu, that is enough to fuel our enemies to stand against us and makes us vulnerable to their nefarious plans.

This week, we mourn and we grieve, but we also resolve to both fight hatred against our people and to purge hatred from within our people. We participated in two community-wide events, memorials to the victims, the Jewish martyrs who died al Kiddush Hashem. We pray that the people of Pittsburgh find the strength to endure, feel the love of the Jewish community, and good people everywhere and that the world’s oldest hatred finally come to an end.

The name of the Congregation in which the tragedy occurred is Tree of Life, Eitz Chaim. We are told la’machazikim bah, the Torah is a tree of life for those who grab onto it. Dannie z”l grabbed onto the Torah, Hashem and her faith and it carried her through hard times. We too must grab the Tree of Life, our tradition and the Tree of Life, the congregation, to lift one another during these times.

18 Million Reasons Why You Should Vote This Election

Do you feel strongly about Israel’s safety, security and the US-Israel relationship?

Do you have concerns about the environment, gun control, or the justice system?

Do you have opinions about how the tax code impacts the economy and your personal finances?

Has the cost of tuition for Jewish day school impacted you or your family and do you have an opinion about the use of tax scholarships to relieve the pressure?

It is hard to believe that you didn’t answer yes to at least one, or some, if not all, of the above questions. Who wouldn’t want to influence how much taxes they pay, the tuition crisis or this country’s strategic relationship with Israel?

Historically, only 40%, less than half of eligible voters, cast a vote in midterm elections. With strong political feelings on both sides and much at stake, pundits are predicting and celebrating a major spike in voter turnout, with some estimates predicting turnout as high as… fifty percent. That still means that despite consequential issues at the center of the upcoming election, half of those eligible will stay home and squander their sacred vote.

Many people sit it out because they think their vote doesn’t matter. In some places and for some elections that may be true, but it isn’t for us. In the year 2000, President George W. Bush won Florida by only 537 votes. Put another way, fewer than the number of people who go the 9:00 a.m. Minyan on Shabbos morning at BRS determined a presidency. That same year a Connecticut congressman won by 21 votes and a Representative from Vermont was elected by a margin of 1. Vote for whomever you see fit, but vote because it matters, particularly here in South Florida.

On October 3, 1984, Rav Moshe Feinstein zt”l, the greatest Halachic authority of America at the time, wrote a responsum regarding the obligation to vote. It says:

On reaching the shores of the United States, Jews found a safe haven. The rights guaranteed by the US Constitution and the Bill of Rights have allowed us the freedom to practice our religion without interference and to live in this republic in safety.

A fundamental principle of Judaism is hakaras ha’tov – recognizing benefits afforded us and giving expression to our appreciation. Therefore, it is incumbent upon each Jewish citizen to participate in the democratic system which guards the freedoms we enjoy. The most fundamental responsibility incumbent on each individual is to register and to vote.

Therefore, I urge all members of the Jewish community to fulfill their obligations by registering as soon as possible, and by voting. By this, we can express our appreciation and contribute to the continued security of our community.

Rav Moshe saw voting as a halachic and moral imperative. To stay home is not just to waste a right and privilege; it is an act of ingratitude. We enjoy a freedom and opportunity so many others are deprived of. The least we can do to say thank you, is to take advantage of that gift.

Showing up to vote is a start, but it isn’t enough. Too many people fail to prepare or choose to be uneducated about the candidates and issues, and instead cast their vote based solely on who has a Jewish sounding name or which party they belong to. But candidates are people with personalities, ideas, positions, and platforms. They undoubtedly worked hard to raise money and likely gave of their own capital to fund their campaign. They seek to make a difference, and whether or not they will be elected and realize their dream of public service depends entirely on the people who come to cast a vote. How could we determine someone’s fate so callously? Similarly, our ballot includes numerous proposed amendments to our state Constitution, some of which have a direct impact on our finances, our rights, and our lives. At the end of the day, how could we determine our own fate and what the election results will mean for us so flippantly and frivolously?

We are given a gift of inestimable value, a chance that others, including many of our ancestors, could only dream of: the opportunity to vote, to make choices, and to have a voice. Squandering it is not just a lack of gratitude for the blessing of this country and the freedom it affords us, it is just irresponsible, and even worse it is foolish. These issues matter to us and we can impact them positively.

This weekend at BRS is dedicated to Teach Florida, an amazing organization co-chaired by our own Daniel Adler, fighting for equitable government funding, tax credit scholarships and education savings accounts, to make a difference for our students, families and schools. As a result of their hard work, in 2017-2018, Florida’s tax-credit scholarship program helped 2,575 students attend 32 Jewish day schools in Florida through a total of $18 million in scholarships. This year, the Gardiner and McKay scholarship programs helped 300 students with special needs attend Jewish day schools in Florida, totaling more than $2 million to Jewish day schools. Teach Florida also won $654,000 in first-time state funding for Jewish school security in 2017-2018 and a threefold increase of $2 million in the state’s 2018-19 budget.

These issues are complicated, and I fully acknowledge there are different perspectives on them. Nevertheless, there is currently no greater solution or proposal to positively impact the cost of Jewish tuition than this movement. This year, the schools in OUR community are receiving $2 million dollars and over 300 of our children are directly benefiting. Many of these families could not afford a Jewish education if not for these funds. These efforts met success because of the broader movement for school choice, championed by John Kirtley, our speaker this Shabbos. At the conclusion of the 9:00 a.m. minyan on Shabbos morning, John will help us understand the issues and provide practical advice on what we can do to help grow these already substantial numbers and benefit even more of our families and schools.

One of the most basic and yet greatest gifts and blessings God has bestowed upon us is our bechirah chofshis, our free will and ability to choose. If you fail to vote or to be informed when voting, it naturally follows that you forfeit your right to complain, kvetch or bemoan the issues you could have impacted.

Choose candidates whose positions and opinions you share. Be part of shaping your own destiny. Nobody can or should tell you how to vote, or for whom. But we can and must all tell one another to go out and vote, because it matters and it is our responsibility.

The Blessing in Being a Blessing

Image result for be a blessing Each year at the Rabbinical Council of America convention, an award is given to a chaplain. To be honest, it has never been the highlight of the gathering for me. A few years ago, however, I was grateful to be present when the award was given to Rav Zvi Karpel. When he accepted the award, he described what had driven him to work in chaplaincy. His words moved me to tears and touched me deeply.

וְאֶעֶשְׂךָ לְגוֹי גָּדוֹל וַאֲבָרֶכְךָ וַאֲגַדְּלָה שְׁמֶךָ וֶהְיֵה בְּרָכָה:

“And I will make you into a great nation and I will bless you and I will make your name great… v’heye beracha.”

In a world of paganism, idolatry and moral depravity, Avraham discovered and chose God and now, in our parsha, at the age of 75 the Almighty reciprocates and chooses Avraham. Hashem promises if you come with Me, leave your homeland, your father’s house and all you know, I will make you a great nation and shower you with beracha, blessing.

Hashem’s proposal to Avraham concludes with an interesting phrase – וֶהְיֵה בְּרָכָה. It can’t mean “and you will be blessed” because Hashem has just told him, וַאֲבָרֶכְךָ, “I will bless you.” So what does it mean?

Rav Samson Raphael Hirsch writes: “It does not say והיית ברכה, or ותהיה ברכה, but והיה ברכה, become a blessing. In these two words the whole moral task is summarized… All others strive, not להיות ברכה to be a blessing, but להיות ברוכים, to be blessed.”

With this charge, Hashem was not only promising Avraham that he would be blessed, but at the same time was challenging Avraham to take the richness of his experience, to learn from his own story and to use it to become a blessing for others. Others pursue being blessed, satisfying their wants and needs and finding their own happiness. To be progeny of Avraham is to take whatever blessing we have and to pursue becoming a blessing in other people’s lives, using it to help others find happiness.

This, in fact, was the true test of לך לך , go forth. The journey was not a geographical one but an existential one. The destination was not a physical address but a journey of self-discovery – לך, go. Where? לך, to who you are meant to be.

Hashem was challenging Avraham and all of us – reflect on your life, identify your talents and skills, and contemplate the lessons you have learned from your life experiences, and then pay it forward. Become a blessing. Help others and enhance their lives.

When accepting his award, Rabbi Karpel shared the following (shared here with his permission):

I lost my father when I was five and a half years old. This coming yahrzeit will mark his 60th. Put in other terms, by the time I was Bar Mitzvah, I had been saying yizkor for half of my life. My mother z”l raised me on her own. She herself became seriously ill my junior year in high school, and passed away my sophomore year in college. I relate these events because in retrospect, I feel that losing both my parents as I did had a tremendous impact on my life and my decision making.

I grew up in Rockville Centre, New York, a town on Long Island void of any Orthodox presence. I attended the public schools there, and received my religious education at an afternoon Hebrew school in the Conservative synagogue. My first real exposure to Orthodoxy was spending a Shabbos at my Kitah Bet teacher’s home in Far Rockaway, Queens.

For college studies, I went away to the State University of New York at Albany. It was that fall that I decided to become Shomer Shabbos, at least as far as I knew how to be one. I emerged as one of five yamulka-wearing students on a campus that arguably boasted 4,000-5000 Jewish students.

I knew that I needed a plan as to what I was going to do after graduation. Since my yiddishkeit is what most prominently drove my thoughts, feelings and actions, I decided I wanted to become a Rabbi. In addition, I realized that having never gone to yeshiva, I needed to accelerate my Jewish education, so I decided to go to learn in Israel. When I returned here to the States, I was accepted into the semicha program at RIETS. Overlapping with the learning in the yeshiva, I matriculated into the Wurzweiler School of Social Work, and earned my MSW in conjunction with my semicha.

After working as a social worker for a couple of years in a day program for a Jewish nursing home, I began working as the full-time Rabbi at the Daughters of Israel. There I have remained for the last 32-plus years.

If I were to relate to you the single most significant aspect of my work, I would say it’s providing the spiritual and pastoral care to family members when their loved one is dying. In thinking way back to the experience with my own mother, I can tell you that when I heard her voice over the telephone and sensed she was close to the end, without hesitation I made the decision to leave the university to be with her. It turned out that I was to be at her bedside for her last week.

In reflecting back on that time, I know that I could have really used the support of a chaplain; I also know that I was not only a son at the bedside, I was my mother’s chaplain, walking with her during her final journey. The Shulchan Aruch tells us in hilchos kibbud av v’aim, “Chayav l’chvodo, afilu achar moso”. A person is obligated to honor one’s parents, even once they have passed. I would like to think that my work with residents and their family members at the end of life provides some measure of kavod to my parents, may their memories be blessed.

Rabbi Karpel was orphaned at a young age. He could have reflected on his life experience with a sense of bitterness, anger and resentment. Instead, he decided to become a blessing. He recognized that his personal experiences positioned him to help others and provide for them what he didn’t have. For over 32 years, countless families at Daughters of Israel Geriatric Center in West Orange, New Jersey had support, love, guidance and help when their loved one was transitioning to the next world.

For all of them, Rabbi Karpel is a blessing. היה ברכה – look at your life and figure out how you can become someone else’s blessing.

Impolite Things Otherwise Polite People Do in Shul – Improving Shul Etiquette

Related image The long Yom Tov season is over and our children are back in school. But what did they learn while they were off? There is no question that young people gain formal education and amass information from their teachers and schools, but the most powerful influence on their character is the model they see from those around them. Ralph Waldo Emerson once said, “Your actions speak so loudly, I cannot hear what you are saying.”

We are blessed to live in an amazing community with kind, sensitive, courteous people. I get regular feedback praising our members and our community as warm and welcoming. I am always proud when people comment how refreshing it is to interact and engage with the people in our shul and not to experience some of the rude behavior that unfortunately is commonly associated with our brothers and sisters in other communities.

I still think, however, that there are areas in derech eretz, kindness and courtesy, which we as a community can work on. Having spent so much time in Shul over the last several weeks, I observed several patterns of behavior that, while not malicious or poorly intended or reflecting a rude attitude, nevertheless lack the consistent derech eretz we aspire to. These are not particular to our community; indeed, in consultation with my colleagues from around the country, I can confidently say most are ubiquitous in shul life. And I want to be very clear: while pointing some of these out may seem self-serving, I really don’t believe any of this is about me or protecting rabbis’ honor generally. This is about all of us and the sometimes unintended consequences and messaging resulting from what feels like benign behavior. If we make these minor adjustments and remain sensitive in these areas and others, we can raise the level of courteousness and consideration in shul and everywhere we go.

“If you come here to talk, where do you go to daven?” This sign discouraging talking during davening hangs in many shuls and appeals to our spiritual conscience and ambition not to talk. But there is an even more basic reason to refrain from conversation during shul: It is rude. Even if we struggle to connect with prayer and are willing to exchange a conversation with the Almighty for a conversation with our neighbor, it is unkind to someone within earshot who isn’t undergoing that struggle. People who talk aren’t bad people. They are often outgoing, social, warm, and gregarious. But without even being aware, they are acting unkind. There are people all around shul davening who are utilizing a safe space to experience an intimate conversation with Hashem. We wouldn’t talk while someone is trying to watch a movie or Broadway show, we wouldn’t talk while someone is swinging on the golf course or tennis court, and we shouldn’t talk and cause a distraction when people are trying to daven. Talking in our shul generally is not bad, but that is not the standard we strive for in any other area and we shouldn’t be satisfied with it regarding this. We can do better; we owe it to ourselves and to those around us.

When I was young, if a child walked across a room while someone was speaking to a crowd or congregation, the child’s parent would be mortified, grab the child to come sit until the talk was over, and would strongly instruct the child never to walk into a room while someone is speaking again. If not the parent, another adult would stop the child and direct them not to walk through the room at that time. Our sweet, precious children rely on us to place boundaries and condition proper behavior. Children who come into shul during a sermon or lecture to speak with a parent, or to collect candies, or deliver a message, should gently be instructed that this is not an appropriate time to do so. If we don’t teach them derech eretz, who will?

We have a wonderful community of learners who come each Shabbos for the class before mincha. Even many people coming for mincha arrive early to catch the end of the class. If we aren’t there in time, the proper thing is to find the first available seat. If we are early for mincha, we should wait quietly in the back. Arriving towards the end of class and walking through the room is discourteous to both the speaker and those attending the shiur.

We are fortunately blessed to enjoy the presence of many young children in shul. Shul should be a place children feel excited to come to and be part of. That said, parents must use judgment when bringing younger children into shul during davening. If the child begins to make noise, the “shushing” that follows is almost always ineffective and only serves to make the disruption worse. Parents—men and women—should be aware that the best solution to their child making noise is to immediately take the child out of shul. Even if one is in the middle of Shmoneh Esrei, it is Halachically preferable to pause, walk out of shul with the child, and continue the prayer outside, than to ineffectively shush the child or allow him or her to continue to disrupt others.

It is understandable that it isn’t always possible to be in shul on time, particularly for women. While catching up with davening, it is important to be thoughtful and considerate when saying the Shmoneh Esrei (Amida). If you are by your seat during the derasha, standing and swaying in davening blocks others from seeing the speaker and distracts the person speaking. Better to move to the side or back, or step into the hall to recite the Amida.

We are blessed to celebrate many simchas in our community. They are often marked with the throwing of or distribution of candy, which in turn generates lots of garbage. Often, wrappers can be found on the floor of the shul. Children drop them or walk right past them without anyone saying anything. We wouldn’t allow a child to leave garbage on the floor of our home and we shouldn’t let them walk past garbage on the floor of our sanctuary. Stop a child and (kindheartedly) teach them to pick it up or pick it up yourself so they see it isn’t beneath adults to keep Hashem’s home as clean or cleaner than our own.

Each week, when shul is over, our wonderful custodians spend considerable time collecting siddurim and chumashim and returning them to the shelves with great care and respect. But why should they have to? Isn’t it basic derech eretz to put something back on the shelf when we finish using it? “Being people of the book” means not only learning what is in it, but modeling what we literally do with it.

It is one thing to not go to a shiur, but it is an altogether different thing to get up and choose to walk out of one. Over the holidays, and daily between Mincha and Maariv, someone gives a short Dvar Torah. Sometimes, a person may have an obligation or responsibility at home or elsewhere that necessitates their leaving shul. On the other hand, some people leave to stand in the lobby and shoot the breeze, share the latest gossip, or simply pass the time. Others make an exit for what they consider a noble reason—to go to the Beis Midrash for “real” learning. Some remain in shul and brazenly open a sefer to study, oblivious to the impression it leaves and the message it sends. Whoever is speaking in the front of the room worked hard to prepare, is putting in effort, and is making themselves vulnerable by speaking. Walking out, opening a sefer, or staring at or texting on the phone, isn’t menschlich and is unintentionally hurtful.

The Torah and its many laws and directives isn’t given until Sefer Shmos, the second book. Yet, we have an entire first book preceding it to teach us about proper character, respectful behavior, and fine qualities. Indeed, the famous midrash (Vayikra Rabba 9) tells us “Derech eretz kadma laTorah,” derech eretz preceded Torah by 26 generations.

In his introduction to his commentary on Bereishis, the Netziv writes that the first book of the Torah was referred to by our rabbis as Sefer HaYashar, the book of the upright, because it tells the story of our patriarchs and matriarchs who lived honest, respectful, kind lives. One has to be a mensch in order to be a vessel to receive Torah, as the Mishna in Avos (3:17) teaches: im ein Torah, ein derech eretz v’im ein derech eretz, ein Torah, If there is no Torah, there is no derech eretz and if there is no derech eretz, there is no Torah. On this Mishna, Rabbeinu Yonah writes, “One must first improve one’s own character traits and with that, the Torah can endure with him because it cannot endure with a person that doesn’t have good character traits. One cannot learn Torah first and then acquire good character traits because this is impossible.”

Shul is perhaps the most powerful classroom our children attend. They are watching and learning what we do to see if it matches what they hear us say. With a little more thoughtfulness and effort to be mindful of the unintended consequences of our innocent behavior, we can teach them to emulate our ancestors and to earn the label yashar, to be counted among the upright, honest and menschlich.

Drawing Strength From Yesterday’s Sacrifices

Many years ago, two bachurim, students, came to the yeshivah of the Chasam Sofer, Rav Moshe Schreiber (1763-1839) in Pressburg, Hungary to take a farher, an entrance exam, to determine whether or not the boys qualified for admission as talmidim in his prestigious yeshivah. It was right after Sukkos, just a few days before the new zman, the semester was to begin, and the bachurim were anxious to become part of the world-renowned yeshivah. One of the boys had the reputation of being an iluy, a genius, whose understanding and perception of sugyos was outstanding. The second boy also had the reputation of being an exemplary student for his age, but he was not known to possess as sharp a mind that the first boy had.

Both boys took the farher and afterwards the Chasam Sofer announced that he would be accepting only one of them: the second boy, the one with the fine reputation but not the outstanding iluy. Staff members who had observed and overheard the boys being tested were surprised. Both had done well, and the iluy certainly had done better. “Why,” they asked the Chasam Sofer, “are you taking only the second bachur?”

The Chasam Sofer peered at those who questioned him and answered sternly, “I was sitting near the window and noticed the two bachurim as they made their way from the street into this building. There was some s’chach on the sidewalk from one of the sukkos that had just been taken down after the yom tov. The first bachur did not make it a point to avoid the s’chach, but nonchalantly stepped on it as he was walking. “The second boy, however, walked around the s’chach. I maintain,” continued the Chasam Sofer, “that a bachur who can step on s’chach just two days after Sukkos does not have the proper sensitivity to kedushas hamitzvos. He will find someplace else to learn.” (R. Paysach Krohn, Footsteps of Maggid, pg. 135)

The Gemara in Megilla 26b says explicitly that unlike a Sefer Torah, tefillin or mezuza, items used for the performance of a mitzvah don’t contain intrinsic sanctity and can be thrown out. In just a few days, we will all be taking down our sukkos and if we used palm fronds as s’chach, we will place them at the curb to be picked up by the sanitation department. So why did the Chassam Sofer not admit this young man to his yeshiva? What did he do wrong?

The answer can be found in the Gemara (Shabbos 22a) which tells us that while technically tashmishei mitzvah, items used for the performance of a mitzvah, can be discarded when the mitzvah is completed, nevertheless, we cannot treat them in an undignified or demeaning manner, lest we commit what is called tashmish shel bizayon. For example, we are permitted to place our lulav and esrog in the garbage, but we first wrap it in its own garbage bag, and then place that in the garbage so as to continue to show deference to these objects that were recently used for mitzvos.

And so the Chassam Sofer understood that while the mind of this student might be very sharp, his memory was in fact impaired if the experience of sitting in the sukkah could be so easily forgotten and dismissed just a few days later evidenced by his trampling on the s’chach. Yesterday’s experiences cannot so easily be discarded and cast off. We don’t step on and trample the memories and experiences, but instead we embrace them, carry them with us and continue to draw from them.

This is perhaps best expressed in an incredible insight and comment of Rav Sampson Raphael Hirsch on the mitzvah of terumas ha’deshen. At the beginning of parshas Tzav, the Torah instructs the Kohanim – “v’lavash ha’kohen mido vad u’michnesei vad yilbash al besaro v’heirim es ha’deshen asher tochal ha’eish es ha’olah al ha’mizbeiach, v’samo eitzel ha’mizbai’ach.”

The Kohen does something unusual. He gets dressed up to take out the garbage… literally! The Kohen who cleans the altar from the burnt ash of yesterday’s korbanos puts on his two of the four priestly garments and instead of taking the garbage all the way to the curb, outside the Temple, for some reason he places them down on the floor of the courtyard, east of the ramp that leads to the top of the Altar. Why does he get dressed up and why does he leave yesterday’s garbage next to today’s sacrifices?

Rav Hirsch writes:

The terumas ha’deshen is an avodah itself and may only be done by a kosher kohen in priestly vestments…He takes a handful of the ash and he places it deliberately, not scattered on the mizrach, the east side next to the altar… The ash has been laid down as a remembrance of the devotion represented by the sacrifices of the past day to God and to His holy Torah… It would give the idea as the introduction to the service of the day, that today brings no new mission, it has only to carry out, ever afresh, the mission that yesterday too was to accomplish. The very last Jewish grandchild stands there, before God, with the same mission of life that his first ancestors bore, and every day adds to all its solution of the task given to all generations of the House of Israel.

In other words, according to Rav Hirsch, the message is clear – before sacrifices can be made today, you must acknowledge and recognize the sacrifices of yesterday. We don’t trample on palm fronds that just yesterday served as our s’chach and we don’t discard yesterday’s ash and move on to today’s service. We place the memory of yesterday’s sacrifice next to today’s sacrifice and thereby celebrate the contiguity and continuity of the Jewish experience.

Shortly, we will complete six incredible weeks that began with Elul and end with Simchas Torah. We don’t conclude this journey without pausing to think about all it took to get here.

In 2003, Abe Foxman, the longtime National Director of the Anti-Defamation League, wrote a book called “Never Again?” In it, he recounts the experience of being hidden by a Catholic nanny for four years during the Holocaust, separated from his parents. He tells an incredible story that happened to him involving a Russian soldier in the fall of 1945 after liberation as a five-year-old boy. Also in 2003, Jewish music songwriter Abie Rotenberg was on a flight sitting next to an old Jewish man, Rabbi Leo Goldman from Detroit, and the two struck up a conversation.

The old man told him a story from after the war involving a young boy that Abie Rotenberg says, “changed my view of life.” He was so moved that he wrote lyrics to a song called “The Man from Vilna” telling over the story. In 2010, a researcher from Yad Vashem heard Foxman tell his story and was moved to try to find the Russian soldier. He came across Abie Rotenberg’s song and put two and two together.

It wasn’t long after that Abe Foxman took a flight to Oak Park, Michigan, and Rabbi Goldman and he were reunited 65 years after their incredible story occurred. They hugged and cried and prayed together. Goldman’s children describe that their father told this story every single year and Foxman too often recounted the experience that shaped his life. Now they have all met one another and corroborated the story from both perspectives, giving the story even greater meaning and emotion.

So, what is their incredible story? The Catholic nanny saved Abe Foxman’s life but she also taught him to spit on the ground when a Jew walked by. In the middle of 1945, he was reunited with his parents who had miraculously survived. His father didn’t know what to do with his little boy who now had negative feelings for Judaism. He waited four months to take him to Shul until it would be the holiday of Simchas Torah since it is associated with fun and joy.

Foxman remembers walking to Shul that evening and when passing a Church making the sign of the cross on himself, as he had been taught to do by the nanny. Leo Goldman had lost his parents and many relatives to the Nazis before being enlisted to serve in the Russian army. By the fall of 1945, the concentration camps had been liberated and those who survived were reuniting with family across Europe. He had gone back to Vilna, of which only 3,000 of the 100,000 Jews survived.

This is the rest of the story from Leo Goldman’s perspective with Abie Rotenberg’s lyrics from his incredible song, the Man from Vilna, that you must listen to:

I remember liberation, joy and fear both intertwined. Where to go, and what to do, and how to leave the pain behind. My heart said “Go to Vilna”, dare I pray yet once again, For the chance to find a loved one, or perhaps a childhood friend? It took many months to get there, from the late spring to the fall. And as I, many others, close to four hundred in all. And slowly there was healing, darkened souls now mixed with light, when someone proudly cried out, Simchas Torah is tonight.

We danced round and round in circles as if the world had done no wrong. From evening until morning, filling up with song. Though we had no Sifrei Torah to clutch close to our hearts. In their place, we held the future, of a past so torn apart. We ran as one towards the shul, our spirits in a trance. We tore apart the barricade, in defiance we would dance. But the scene before our eyes shook us to the core. Scraps of siddur, bullet holes, and bloodstains on the floor.

Turning to the eastern wall, we looked on in despair. There’d be no scrolls to dance with, the Holy Ark was bare. Then we heard two children crying, a boy and girl who no one knew. We realized no children were among us but those two. We danced round and round in circles as if the world had done no wrong. From evening until morning, filling up the shul with song. Though we had no Sifrei Torah to gather in our arms. In their place, we held those children. The Jewish people would live on. We danced round and round in circles as if the world had done no wrong. From evening until morning, filling up the shul with song.

Though we had no Sifrei Torah to clutch and hold up high. In their place, we held those children. Am Yisrael Chai.

Goldman described that he hadn’t seen a Jewish child in over a year. When he heard the voice of a little boy he bent down and asked if he was Jewish. When Foxman said yes, he couldn’t help but lift him and dance with him as the living Sefer Torah they longed for. Foxman describes the soldier, a stranger, had embraced him in public, in a synagogue. He had carried him like a trophy around the Shul.

Foxman said, “That was for me the first time anyone took pride in me. As a hidden child I didn’t know who or what I was. [After that simchas Torah] I came home and told my father that I wanted to be Jewish. It was the beginning of my life as a Jewish person.”

Abe Foxman, as you know, went on to live a richly Jewish life filled with Jewish leadership, fighting anti-Semitism, and defending the future of the Jewish people.

We are heading into the final stretch of a long, amazing holiday season. We are so blessed to live in a beautiful community, to have an incredible shul filled with Sifrei Torah, the written ones and the living ones, those that are here and those that worked so hard to build what we benefit from today. Like the terumas ha’deshen, their sacrifices sit right next to our service and perpetually remind us that we are simply the continuity of what they began.

Don’t Suffer From Spiritual Dehydration – Water Your Soul

Related image

The Mishna in Sukkah (29b) teaches that a stolen lulav and a dried out lulav are disqualified from fulfilling the mitzvah. The problem with a stolen lulav is evident: how could one possibly fulfill a mitzvah through an inherently corrupt and unethical action? The invalidity of a dry lulav, however, requires closer analysis. After all, once a lulav is cut from the tree, it is going to dry out eventually. What difference does it make if I shake a lulav that has lost its green color?

Rashi explains – When performing a mitzvah we seek something which is beautiful and will best glorify Hashem. A dry lulav is unattractive and unpleasant, and therefore, is invalid. The Yerushalmi, however, gives an altogether different reason, suggesting that a dry lulav is not valid because ‘lo ha’meisim y’halelu kah – the dead cannot praise God.’ A dry lulav is dead and therefore cannot be used as an instrument or vehicle for praise. Indeed, the Ba’al Ha’Turim notes that the Gematria of lulav is 68, which is the same as chayim, life.

The Yerushalmi’s insight has broader applications. If a dead, wilted, lifeless lulav cannot be used as an instrument of praise to Hashem, than certainly a wilted, lifeless, dried out, burnt out person cannot connect to the Almighty. Generally speaking, too many of us are spiritually dehydrated. We are living but we are not alive.. Lo ha’meisim y’halelu kah – we cannot expect to connect with Hashem, family members or others if we have no simchas ha’chayim, no joy in our lives. Some of us are a lulav ha’yaveish, a wilted lulav, because of the stresses, pressures, and responsibilities of life. Others are simply burnt out from this intense holiday period filled with long davening, arduous introspection, and painful self-reflection.

But now is not the time to burn out, to dry out or to lose the joy in life. We worked hard to get sealed in the Sefer HaChayim and now is the time to add simcha so we are living with true simchas ha’chayim. Now is the holiday of v’samachta b’chagecha. We deserve happiness, joy, good food, good friends, a good shluf, a good conversation, and most importantly a good laugh or smile. We worked hard over the Yamim Noraim and we earned this Yom Tov that is zman simchaseinu, the time of joy and happiness.

The following story was related some years ago by a college student:

The first day of school our professor introduced himself and challenged us to get to know someone we didn’t already know. I stood up to look around when a gentle hand touched my shoulder. I turned around to find a wrinkled, little old lady beaming up at me with a smile that lit up her entire being. She said, “Hi, my name is Rose. I’m eighty-seven years old. Can I give you a hug?” I laughed and enthusiastically responded, “Of course you may!” and she gave me a giant squeeze. “Why are you in college at such a young, innocent age?” I asked. She jokingly replied, “I’m here to meet a rich husband, get married, have a couple of children, and then retire and travel.” “No seriously,” I asked. I was curious what may have motivated her to be taking on this challenge at her age.

“I always dreamed of having a college education and now I’m getting one!” she told me. We became instant friends. Every day for the next three months we would leave class together and talk nonstop. I was always mesmerized listening as she shared her wisdom and experience with me. Over the course of the year, Rose became a campus icon and she easily made friends wherever she went.

At the end of the semester we invited Rose to speak at our football banquet. I’ll never forget what she taught us. She began: “We do not stop playing because we are old; we grow old because we stop playing. There are only four secrets to staying young, being happy, and achieving success: 1) You have to laugh and find humor every day. 2) You’ve got to have a dream. When you lose your dreams, you die. We have so many people walking around who are dead and don’t even know it! 3) There is a huge difference between growing older and growing up. If you are nineteen years old and lie in bed for one full year and don’t do one productive thing, you will turn twenty years old. If I am eighty-seven years old and stay in bed for a year and never do anything I will turn eighty-eight. Anybody can grow older. Growing older is mandatory, growing up is optional. 4) Have no regrets. The elderly usually don’t have regrets for what we did, but rather for things we did not do.”

At the years end Rose finished the college degree she had begun all those years ago. One week after graduation Rose died peacefully in her sleep. Over two thousand college students attended her funeral in tribute to the wonderful woman who taught by example that it’s never too late to be all you can possibly be.

Lo ha’meisim y’halelu kah, the dead cannot praise God. Let’s stop being a lulav hayaveish. Stop walking around with a farbissina face, a depressed disposition and a down attitude. Don’t be negative. It’s hot in the sukkah – so what? Spiritually hydrate with a positive attitude, a smile, a joy for life and a simchas ha’chayim.

Rav Yisroel Salanter said that our faces are also a reshus ha’rabim they are public domain. The decision to be b’simcha doesn’t only affect us, but is contagious and can positively influence the whole environment around us. If we are generous with our smiles and if as Rose taught, we choose to be alive, we can truly have a chag sameach.

Join Our Community