Live With a Panoramic View of the World and See the Good All Around

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

(Adapted from drasha delivered on Parshas Chayei Sarah/Thanksgiving Weekend 2016)

 

Everybody knows that the day after Thanksgiving is known as “Black Friday,” but fewer know how it got its name. The earliest use has been traced back to 1951, referencing the practice of workers calling in sick on the day after Thanksgiving in order to enjoy a four-day weekend.  Around the same time, the term caught on among the Philadelphia police department to describe the traffic congestion caused by shoppers.  More recently, some use the term to describe the period of the year that retailers go “in the black,” making profits from all the holiday shopping.

 

Whatever the origin of the name, it struck me this year, that while we in America were enjoying the great deals of Black Friday and deciding what new possessions we can accumulate and bring into our homes, our brothers and sisters in Israel were experiencing an altogether different Black Friday, deciding which possessions to save from their homes as they fled through the black smoke that was threatening their communities.

 

V’Avraham zakein bah bayamim, va’Hashem beirach es Avraham bakol – now Avraham was old, well on in years and Hashem blessed Avraham with everything.”  Could there be a more ambiguous statement or phrase than baKOL, blessed with everything?  With what exactly was Avraham blessed?  Rav Avraham Ibn Ezra suggests that indeed, Avraham was blessed with everything – b’orech yamim, v’osher, v’chavod u’banim, v’zu KOL chemdas ha’adom.

 

And yet, something doesn’t sit right with that explanation.  At this point, Sarah, his life partner has passed away.  He had just lost his “everything.”  Additionally, Avraham is known for his unprecedented and perhaps unparalleled spiritual contribution to the world. It is difficult to accept that the Torah would describe Avraham as being blessed with material and physical wealth, as having “it all,” particularly at this stage of his life.

 

Moreover, the narrative itself seems to contradict this suggestion.  Immediately after supposedly being blessed with absolutely everything, Avraham summons his loyal servant Eliezer and says, “you know, there is something I desperately need: a wife for my son Yitzchak.  This is so important to me that you need to swear you will fulfill your promise and provide that which is lacking, a daughter-in-law.”  If Avraham was blessed with everything, why is the very next statement a description of that which he lacks?  What is this mysterious bakol that Avraham enjoyed?

 

In his Oros HaTeshuva, Rav Kook explains[1] that in a healthy person, there is an inseparable relationship between the individual and the totality of existence and creation.  The person who cares about other people and things around him or her will observe and sense the good in the universe.  In contrast, a self-absorbed person who is obsessed with his or her own happiness and interests is misaligned with creation and everything around them.  He or she simply cannot see the harmony, beauty, integration, and unity of the universe.

 

In Moreh Nevuchim, the Rambam speaks of a person who mistakenly believes that there is more evil and suffering than goodness and joy in the world.  He describes that this belief results from a person seeing himself as the center of the world and therefore measuring the whole world by his own narrow, limited experiences.  Such a person has separated himself or herself from the cosmos.

 

Rav Kook explains that when Hashem blessed Avraham “bakol” it means that Hashem empowered Avraham with a panoramic view of all reality and a broad perspective of the universe.  Rav Kook explains that being blessed bakol, seeing synthesis in the world, is not only to intellectually believe that, statistically speaking, there is there more good than bad in the world, but it means even seeing the “painful” as part of the meaning, order and purpose of the universe.  It means seeing the hard and dark moments and experiences as part of kol, the bigger picture.

 

Avraham lived with, and experienced the world through, a wide-angle lens and therefore, despite whatever particular challenge he was enduring, he was able to see and appreciate how much good there was all around him and even all the good he had.

 

Living with a sense of kol – seeing the whole picture and not just focusing on a small part – provides the faith, courage, and tenacity to endure that which is painful and recognize that even that is not without meaning and purpose.  Having a kol attitude brings calm, an optimistic spirit, and a deep sense of appreciation.

 

Conversely, not embracing a kol attitude, choosing to focus on pain, suffering, and darkness, with no vision or perspective, leaves a person, according to Rav Kook, chronically complaining and persistently unhappy.

 

Fires are raging around Israel.  Just when you think they have tried everything, our enemies invent a new form of terror, arson.  Over 200 separate fires have raged, tens of thousands have been evacuated from their homes, forests have burned, people have been injured, buildings, and homes have burned to the ground.  Among them is OJ, Yeshivas Ohr Yerushalayim where many of our members learned for their year or years in Israel and home to NCSY Kollel each summer, which was partially destroyed by a fire set to Beit Meir.

 

While the fire of evil rages around Israel, Hashem “beirach es Avraham bakol,” fire rages within the Jewish spirit as amazing displays of chesed have emerged.  I saw several websites with spreadsheets of volunteers offering anyone evacuated from their home, complete strangers, to come stay with them.  I don’t recall seeing that among the general population when Hurricane Matthew was headed our way. Nobody in Tampa invited strangers from Ft. Lauderdale to stay with them.  AirBnB in Israel waived all service fees and invited people to offer their homes to others for free.  There is good and beauty even within the dark and ugly.

 

In contrast, our enemies don’t see synthesis.  While we choose to see good, they choose to practice evil.  While we transform terror into opportunities for chesed, they take chesed and use it to advance terror.  It is not a coincidence that when Yishmael is born, the Torah warns us, he is “yado bakol” – his hand will be upon that sense of kol.  He wants to destroy goodness, optimism, hope, and synthesis.

 

Yishmael is yado bakol, but yad kol bo, we stubbornly hold on to our attitude of kol which will triumph over him.  Avraham passed this capacity to see the big picture with hope and graititude on to Yitzchak before he died.  The end of our parsha states, “Vayitein Avraham es KOL asher lo l’Yitzchak, and Avraham gave the kol, the everything he had, to Yitzchak.” Elsewhere we are told that Yitchak gave it to Yaakov and so on.

 

Even if a person is experiencing challenges, hardship or pain, he or she can employ their sense of kol and nevertheless choose to see the good in family, friends, and the world around them.

 

There is a 12-year-old boy and a 17-year-old girl from our community currently undergoing very difficult and painful treatments and in need of our heartfelt Tefillos.  Please daven each day for Eliyahu Dovid Yehuda ben Nechama Rut and Chaya Yocheved Alexandra bas Chaviva Tova.  I visited the pediatric floor of Sloan Kettering this week for a few hours and I must tell you I was overwhelmed by the pain and suffering all around.  My heart broke from hearing a little girl across the hall wailing to her mother and begging to “get them off of me, leave me alone, just stop.”  If you need a little perspective about what is important in life, what real problems look like, and what real pain feels and sounds like, spend some time in a pediatric oncology ward.

 

The suffering is startling, but the chesed is truly astonishing.  The kindness, sensitivity, and love from the staff and volunteers, who can only be described as angels, is beyond belief.  The faith, resolve, and perspective of the two families going through this is incredibly inspiring.  Neither is wallowing, questioning, angry, resentful, or turning inwards.  Neither is under a cloud of darkness.

 

As progeny and disciples of Avraham Avinu, as inheritors of an attitude of bakol, both families constantly express appreciation for all those around them and for the extraordinary acts of kindness and goodness they have seen and received.  Both have asked that we take on extra acts of kindness, mitzvos, and personal growth so that their children’s pain will be the catalyst and inspiration for bringing greater good into the world and give it some meaning, instead of it just being random.

 

I took an Uber from the hospital and the driver overheard me on the phone with Yocheved describing my visit and my observations about the hospital. When we arrived, my Pakistani driver asked me if he could give me his email address so that I can send him the name of the child so he could pray for her.

 

The capacity to see the good that results from your pain is what it means to be blessed bakol, with a positive perspective and a panoramic, broad vision.

 

My friends, on this Thanksgiving weekend, let us give thanks for being part of such a magnificent people and beneficiaries of such a special legacy.  Avraham was blessed bakol, and we, too, can be if we choose to live our lives with vision, perspective, optimism, and gratitude no matter what is happening.  At havdallah tonight, we will thank Hashem for distinguishing bein ohr l’choseh, between light and darkness.  We don’t have Black Friday or Black Sunday or Monday or Tuesday.  As Jews, our mandate and our mission is to illuminate each day and dispel the darkness.

 

May the dangerous fires in Israel be extinguished and a state of calm and safety return.  May Eliyahu Dovid Yehuda ben Nechama Rut and Chaya Yocheved Alexandra bas Chaviva Tova and all those who are ill have complete, speedy and painless refuah shelaymas.

 

And as we say in benching – “ha’rachaman hu yevareich osanu v’es KOL asher lanu, May God bless us and the KOL that we have, kmo she’nisbarchu avoseinu Avraham, Yitzchak, v’Yaakov baKOL, miKOL, KOL, as he blessed our forefathers with a perspective of KOL, kein yevareich osanu kulanu yachad bivracha shleima,” v’nomar amen.

 

[1] See R’ Moshe Weinberger’s “A Song of Teshuva” on Oros HaTeshuva for an expanded explanation and additional insights regarding this idea.

 

How Using Airplane Mode While on the Ground Can Change Your Life

Image result for airplane modeA few weeks ago, I was in the middle of davening Mincha with unusually-focused kavana, when I suddenly heard a bas kol, a heavenly voice proclaim, “Message received.”  I was reveling in the news that the combination of my heartfelt expressions of praise, personal requests, and gratitude had in fact been received by the Almighty, when suddenly I heard it again, “Message received.”  At that point I realized it was no heavenly voice; it was someone’s cell phone with an alert set for each text message received.  I must admit that for the rest of that Amidah, I struggled to overcome my resentment and frustration and return to the level of focus and concentration I had previously achieved.

A few days before this incident, a friend shared with me an experience at a tragic funeral he had attended.  A young man passed away and throngs came out to pay him kavod acharon, final respect.  As the crowd became silent and the officiating rabbi was about to begin, the chilling words “You’ve arrived at your destination,” were proclaimed.  The person sitting next to my friend immediately commented, “final destination.”  Someone had used a GPS app to direct them to the funeral and had failed to silence his phone, rudely disrupting the beginning of a tragic funeral.

 

Technology has enhanced our lives in countless ways, but it has also compromised and challenged the very foundation of existence, a sense of mindfulness and consciousness in all that we do. A recent study shows that the average person checks his or her phone every six and a half minutes.  Half of teens say they are addicted to their smartphones.  Other research shows that smartphones are actually making us stupid, not smart. Indeed, for super successful people like Warren Buffett, the “flip phone” is making a comeback.

 

In his essay, “Menuchas Ha’Nefesh,” Rav Chaim Friedlander writes, “The truth is, menuchas ha’nefesh, peace of the soul, is a fundamental and critical attribute upon which all success in every aspect of life rests…A person who is scattered, distracted and fragmented cannot achieve anything fully or in fullness.”

 

We all see the difference between the quality of our conversations, interactions, and experiences on Shabbos when we are liberated from and free of technology, from those that take place during the week, when whatever we are doing is competing with the alerts, notifications, vibrations and sounds that are relentlessly bombarding us.  The Zohar (3, 29a) says, “a scholar is called Shabbos.”  R’ Chaim Friedlander explains that it is because the scholar and righteous are able to experience the entire week with the menuchas ha’nefesh, the peacefulness of the mind and soul, that Shabbos provides.

 

I recently spent time in Israel and unlike in the past, I intentionally did not rent a SIM card to power my smartphone.  As a result, I only had access to the usual barrage of emails and texts when I was near Wi-Fi.  That meant every time I davened on the trip, I was entirely disconnected from technology and exclusively connected to my conversation with Hashem.  When I was out with my family, I was entirely immersed in whatever activity or conversation we were having, and utterly inaccessible and disconnected from all others.

 

The experience was enlightening.  My davening, conversations, and experiences were energized and experienced more fully than ever.  When I returned, I was depressed by the thought that I had left my mindfulness and menuchas ha’nefesh behind.  But then it dawned on me: I didn’t have to leave it behind at all. Each time we fly, we have to put our phones in airplane mode which disables the ability to receive calls or messages or be connected online.  (Although it seems the era of being disconnected while flying is coming to an end, too.) It dawned on me that airplane mode works, even while on the ground.

 

Even if we are unable to switch to a flip-phone, or to turn our phones off, we can disconnect at will.  When we walk into davening or begin a conversation we want to be fully present for, we can form the habit and ritual of switching to airplane mode.  We can have Shabbos during the week and experience menuchas ha’nefesh by simply adjusting one setting when we want to connect to what we are doing.

 

The Chovos H’Levavos writes that he knew a righteous man who used to pray “Ha’Makom yatzileini mipizur ha’nefesh, May God spare me from the scattering of the soul.”  Let us pray that we maximize our use of technology without scattering our souls and that we successfully maintain a sense of mindfulness in a world of mindlessness.

 

You May Think it is Not Your Problem – Here is Why You are Wrong

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For some time, the cost of Jewish education has been labeled a crisis.  While it feels like this issue has been addressed ad nauseam, believe it or, it is still being debated.  Our own Rabbi Adam Englander penned an article describing how KHDS was able to freeze tuition and even lower it.  Gershon Distenfeld, Chairman of Yeshivat He’Atid in NJ wrote an article in response entitled, “Is There Still a Tuition Crisis?”  He writes, “Today, what I (and others) are hearing is totally different. Many (day school administrators and board members chief among them) are expressing skepticism that we have any sort of “tuition crisis” for a very simple reason. Parents, and especially the younger generation, are demonstrating time and again that price just doesn’t factor much (if at all) into their decision-making process.”

 

It is true, that for those who can easily afford Jewish education there is no crisis, and frankly, for many of those receiving the largest scholarships it can be argued, there is no crisis in the sense that their children can remain in a Jewish school without question.  My experience has shown me, however, that there remains a crisis for a significant number of families who fall in between.  There is a population that is receiving a generous tuition reduction and yet they simply cannot afford to meet that reduced tuition contract.

 

None of us should know the crisis of having to consider the question of removing a child or children from a warm, nurturing, positive Jewish educational environment and put them in Public School for financial reasons alone. There are legitimate reasons to leave Jewish day schools, but money cannot and should not be one of them. I strongly believe that a Jewish education is a necessity, not a luxury, and every Jewish child deserves a chance at one.

 

To put it simply, these families, these children, need our help.  Our local Boca day schools are extraordinarily generous. Combined, they provide more than 6 million dollars of tuition assistance a year. They, and those paying full tuition that helps subsidize others are doing your part.  But to relieve the crisis for the children on the brink of leaving Jewish Day School, the rest of the community needs to step up and do their part.

 

In 2009, we created the BRS Jewish Education Scholarship Fund to provide modest support to struggling families and help close the small gap and keep their kids in Jewish schools. Since then, the generous donors to this fund have helped literally dozens of Jewish children stay in Jewish schools. The fund does not support the operating budget of schools or make donations to their fundraisers. The fund exclusively provides money on behalf of specific children in specific circumstances to ensure that they can remain in a Jewish school.  The fund has zero overhead or administrative costs.  Every penny that is donated goes directly towards the tuition of a particular child and helps them remain in Jewish school.

 

Helping the youth of our community is not the job of schools alone or of other parents who happen to have their children in the same school. It is the job, responsibility, and halachic obligation of each and every one of us alike, whether we have young children at home or are empty nesters.

 

You may be thinking, this fund is a fantastic idea and my neighbors should most definitely give, but I am exempt.  Here is why you are wrong:

 

MYTH #1 – “This is important, but it is someone else’s responsibility, not mine. I have been there and done that. I have built my children and grandchildren’s schools and now it is time for the next generation.” This is a myth and a fallacy.  In the year 64 C.E., R. Yehoshua ben Gamla introduced an idea that would revolutionize the educational world. He identified a crisis in which Jewish children, particularly orphans, were not being educated by their parents at home as they had been traditionally until that time. He left his prominent position and started the first Jewish public school.  He mandated each community to provide the funds to enable a Jewish education to all.  The Talmud (Bava Basra 21a) credits his vision and initiative with saving our people.

 

Indeed, his approach is quoted in Shulchan Aruch and remaining an obligation on Jewish communities until today.  The Rama, Rav Moshe Isserles writes, “In a place in which the residents of a city establish among them a teacher, and the fathers of the children cannot afford tuition, and the community will have to pay, the tax is levied based on financial means.” Living in a community means contributing to a fund that ensures every Jewish child can get the Jewish education they deserve.  One never graduates from this obligation, even if their children and grandchildren have graduated the schools they once supported.

 

MYTH #2 is “My children or grandchildren are struggling and I am helping them with their tuition.” That is fantastic, meritorious, and noble. However, it does not exempt you from giving locally as well.  Poskim are clear that local schools have the status of aniyei ircha, local indigent, and there is a halachic imperative and priority to give to them before giving to every envelope that comes in the mail and every knock that comes to the door. If for years we send at least something to every yeshiva, kollel and charity that contacts us, how could we not participate in our local communal obligation?

 

We need the community, especially those who are not otherwise giving to our schools right now, to participate in this fund. Whether you are single, married, young, old, an octogenarian or newlyweds, these are OUR children and OUR collective responsibility. This fund is not helping anonymous, unfamiliar children in faraway places. It is enabling your neighbor’s children, the children who sit next to you in shul or riding their bicycles down your street, to remain in Jewish schools.

 

Supporting the fund is an investment opportunity that is guaranteed to pay a return.  The dividends are informed, inspired, passionate Jewish children who are committed to Torah, the Jewish people, and the State of Israel. With all of the challenges we are having inspiring our youth, the research and statistics don’t lie.  One cannot compare the Jewish identity of a child that attended a Jewish day school with one who didn’t.  We need your help, please answer the call.

 

Go to http://www.brsonline.org/donate and generously enter an amount or drop off a check at Shul

 

 

Please consider one of the following levels:

 

$1-$1000 – Friend of Jewish Education

 

$1000 – $1800 – Supporter of Jewish Education (includes entry into the annual Poker tournament on November 29th)

 

$1800 – $3600 – Sponsor of Jewish Education

 

$3600 – $5000 – Pillar of Jewish Education

 

$5000 and up – Patron of Jewish Education

 

 

 

 

 

Trump Lovers and Haters are Making the Same Critical Mistake

Image result for in god we trust house of representativesOn the morning after this week’s historic upset in the election, the chazzan at the minyan I attended finished the repetition of the Amidah and something unusual occurred.  One person called out “Hallel,” indicating that for him it was a miraculous day in which we should sing out to the Almighty in appreciation.  Immediately, another person called out “Tachanun,” proclaiming the day as one of sobriety and sadness.  Both reactions were terrible and inappropriate disruptions to davening, but they reflect the deep divide across this nation.

On Wednesday, many people were euphoric, celebrating what they consider a miraculous victory that will herald in a new era for America.  Many others were despondent, grieving and mourning for what they consider a national calamity and tragedy.  Indeed, universities across the country considered canceling classes to allow students to absorb the results and many professors postponed exams.

 

On the one hand, thousands have taken to the streets protesting the election results and the president-elect.  A group is attempting to form a movement to convince Californians to secede if Trump is president.  A letter has been circulating entitled, “Open Letter From American Jews” that is addressed to “everyone who is threatened by the president-elect and his administration,” and asking people to sign.  And perhaps the most extreme response, as reported in Ha’aretz:  “U.S. Synagogues Invite Grieving Jews to Sit Shiva Together After Trump Victory.”

 

On the other hand is a group that is triumphant and jubilant, proclaiming with absolute confidence and certainty that the economy will improve, the US-Israel relationship will thrive, and that indeed, America will be “great again.”

 

The same pundits and pollsters who grossly miscalculated the election have not hesitated to offer their opinions on how and why the upset occurred and what the future will now hold for every aspect of American domestic and foreign policy.

 

Both those that are grieving excessively and those that are celebrating jubilantly are making the same critical mistake.  With unintended hubris, both groups presume to know exactly what the outcome of this election means and what the future holds.  While an elected official’s campaign speeches and promises certainly give an indication of what they hope to accomplish and what policies they will pursue, never forget that the future is not entirely up to them.

 

As observant Jews and people of deep faith, we must not fall prey to the mistake of the both the haters and the lovers of our president-elect.  Long ago King Shlomo (Mishlei 21:1) taught us, “Palgei mayim lev melech b’yad Hashem, al kol asher yachpotz yatenu, the heart of a king is like a stream of water in the hand of Hashem, wherever He wishes, He will direct it.”

 

It is only natural and expected that when losing a loved one or suffering a painful setback one mourns and grieves.  However, the Rambam writes (Hilchos Aveilus 13:11) that while it is acceptable and even encouraged to mourn, it is prohibited to mourn excessively.  On the prohibition to cut one’s skin in reaction to suffering the death of a family member, the Ramban writes, grieving excessively suggests that one doesn’t believe in God, the afterlife, the world to come, or the reunion of souls.

 

When one mourns and laments hopelessly he has erased God from the equation and fail to trust in His presence and His divine plan.  Similarly, Chazal tell us not to experience unrestrained celebration or laughter.  Only when redemption comes, “az yemalei sechok pinu, our mouths will be filled with unbridled laughter and happiness.”  Until then, we must be cautious with our joy and careful with our delight.

 

Both excessive mourning and extreme celebration presume to fully understand the meaning and implications of a particular event or experience.

 

We say every single day in our davening, “Al tivtechu b’nedivim, don’t place your faith and trust in princes and diplomats.” As believing Jews, we recognize that ultimately it is the Master of the Universe who orchestrates domestic, foreign and all policies and their consequences.  To be a student of Torah and of Jewish history is to see the Almighty’s guiding hand.  His Hand guided our history and ultimately it is His hand that will guide our destiny.

 

It is not only as observant Jews and people of faith that we believe it is God who guides the world.  On every bill in our currency and adorning the House of Representatives is the phrase  “In God We Trust.”

 

So yes, we campaign, lobby, and advocate for our candidate and on behalf of the policies that we think are best.  But when the election is over, when the dust settles, it is with deep humility and profound modesty that we place our trust in God.

 

None of us, the haters, lovers, or those in between, know with true confidence what this election means for America or for Israel.  It is understandable to be disappointed or to be jubilant, but don’t be arrogant.  Let the pundits pontificate.  As Torah Jews, we pray. Whether you are desperately worried about the future or tremendously hopeful, channel that feeling into heartfelt prayer to the One who holds not only the key states, but the keys to everything, Hashem.

 

Sitting it Out Should Not be an Option: Get Out and Vote, It Matters!

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After what feels like forever, thank God it is finally here.  November 8 could not come any sooner.  This election has created an incredibly divisive atmosphere filled with vitriol, rhetoric, and people on both sides having a general disbelief that anyone could possibly tolerate, let alone support, the “other” candidate.  Our mailboxes, inboxes, televisions, and radios have been inundated with negative ads like never before and we are all desperate to move on and put this contentious election behind us.

 

There is only one thing left to do – vote.  That may sound obvious and, indeed, in most presidential elections it is.  However, more than ever before, I have been hearing people who are disgusted by both major candidates conclude that since they cannot stomach voting for either, they are simply going to sit this one out.  I am sympathetic to that sentiment and conclusion, and as tempted as I am to follow it myself, I want to suggest a few reasons it remains critically important to vote in this election and in every election.

 

     

  1. Your Vote Matters – In 2000, President George W. Bush was elected by only 537 votes, some of which were cast in our very district. Put another way, the number of people who go the 9:00 a.m. Minyan on Shabbos morning at BRS decided a presidential election.  That same year a Connecticut Congressman won by 21 votes and a representative from Vermont was elected by a margin of 1.  Voting in South Florida matters.  It has decided elections and may do so again.  If you sit it out, you are neglecting and abdicating an opportunity and responsibility to influence policy and the future of our country.
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  1. Amendments Matter – We sit around Shabbos tables debating and discussing issues like taxes, medical marijuana, and more.  On Tuesday we will have an opportunity to not only voice our opinion, but to shape policies and laws on these issues and others. Research the proposed amendments, understand them, take a position on them, and participate in the process of deciding them.
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  1. Gratitude Matters – On October 3, 1984, Rav Moshe Feinstein zt”l, the undisputed Halachic authority of America at the time, wrote a responsa—on his stationary and fixed with his signature—regarding the obligation to vote:
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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 HaTov – 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 sees voting as a halachic and moral imperative.  Staying home is not just forfeiting an incredible right and privilege.  It is an act of ingratitude and thanklessness.  Sitting out an election doesn’t just damage the system and hurt the candidates.  It hurts the one who fails to express his or her appreciation for freedom and the right to vote.

 

And so, if you support one of the major party candidates, go out and vote for him or her.  If you cannot stomach pulling the lever for either, issue a protest vote by supporting a third-party candidate or by writing in a name.  Just don’t sit it out and neglect a privilege and right that many of our ancestors could only have dreamed of having.

 

There is much at stake in this election beyond the choice of president.  Florida is deciding on Supreme Court justices.  Local candidates have different views on issues that affect us, such as school choice.  National candidates have different views on issues that matter deeply to us such as health care, the economy, foreign policy, and of paramount importance, the US-Israel relationship.

 

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.  Choose candidates whose positions and opinions you share.  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.

 

 

 

What Do Married Couples Fight About Most? A Sukkos Lesson for the Whole Year

Image result for sukkahAccording to researchers in England, the average couple fights in their bedroom 167 times a year.  What do they fight about?  The survey concluded they fight about leaving a light on to read, the temperature in the room, allowing the children to sleep in the bed, and snoring.  More than anything else, however, they found that the one issue couples fight about in their bedroom most is hogging the blanket.

The Shulchan Aruch (634:1) says that the minimum size of a kosher sukkah is 7 tefachim by 7 tefachim, or approximately 2.5 ft by 2.5 ft.  For perspective, that is less than half the size of my desk.  Indeed, the Mishnah Berurah says as long as the sukkah can hold your head, most of your body, and part of your table, it is kosher.

 

Rav Yankele Galinsky notes that Pesach and Sukkos have many similarities and parallels, yet there is one glaring difference.  On Pesach we spread out, recline, and dine like royalty. In contrast, on Sukkos, we squeeze and squish into our fragile, flimsy, temporary small huts.  Once we are all inside, pressed up against one another, when there is no room left, we first begin to recite the ushpizin and invite guests to come join us.  Not only do we welcome Avraham, Yitzchak, etc. but v’imach kol ushpizei ila’ei, come one, come all, plenty of room for everyone.  Where?

 

Israeli war hero and statesman Moshe Dayan was once stopped for speeding by a military policeman. Dayan argued: “I only have one eye.  What do you want me to watch – the speedometer or the road?”

 

The quality of so much of our life experience is contingent on which eye we use to see.  It is not so contingent on what we see, but rather how we see.  The Mishnah in Avos (5:22) encourages us to be the students of Avraham Avinu and not Bilam.  Avraham is characterized by having an ayin tova, a generous eye, while Bilam lived with an ayin ra’ah, a stingy, critical eye.

 

Living with a good eye, a kind, optimistic, positive and magnanimous view is not mutually exclusive from having an ayin ra’ah, a negative, stingy, judgmental, pessimistic and intolerant view.  In truth, all of us have both, and employ different pairs of eyes depending on the moment, the circumstances, and our mood.

 

In marriage, in parenting, in friendships and in life, there are times we are in a place with someone in which they can do no wrong.  We feel particularly close to them for whatever reason at that moment and so when they do things that would otherwise bother us, we don’t notice, we give them the benefit of the doubt, we laugh away their idiosyncrasy, we excuse their behavior, and we see them only with our ayin tova, our generous eye. Psychologists have studied this natural behavior and even coined their own term: The Halo Effect.

 

Other times, however, when we feel alienated or disaffected from someone, we see them exclusively through our ayin ra’ah, our critical eye and they can do absolutely no right.  It is as if they are already on our bad side before they even woke up in the morning.  The smallest slight, otherwise normal behavior on their part, grates at us, irritates us, and drives us crazy.

 

What determines if we are looking at our husband or wife, our son or daughter, our friend, neighbor or co-worker with an ayin tova or an ayin ra’ah?  Certainly their behavior and choices influence how we see them, but all else being equal, in circumstances when they are behaving the same way but we are in a different place, the only thing that determines our perspective and viewpoint and by extension our relationships and happiness is us.

 

The Talmud (Sanhedrin 7a) says – when a couple’s love is strong they can sleep on the edge of a sword with room left over.  When their love is weak, a bed that is sixty amos (90 feet wide) will feel cramped and out of room.

 

The bed is an objective size; the blanket has fixed dimensions.  What determines if it feels cramped or spacious – only our perspective and our view.

 

Rav Galinsky explains that Sukkos is the holiday of unity.  We have spent the High Holidays bonding, reconciling, repairing our relationships and striving to form a bond.  We feel a closeness and a love and therefore we see with an ayin tova giving others the benefit of the doubt, being tolerant of our differences, choosing to dismiss slights and hurts and seeing the good in the person.

 

Rav Galinsky notes that on Pesach we have four sons, four cups, and on Sukkos we have four species, but there is a big difference.  Each of the four sons has his own independent question and we give each an individual answer.  The four cups are invalid if consumed in combination.  The Talmud (Pesachim 105b) says you must drink them one at a time.

 

In contrast, the four species of Sukkos must be taken b’agudah achas, bundled together, taken as one unit in order to be kosher.

 

Our sukkos are objectively small, close quarters. Will we feel cramped, crowded, and confined?  Will we be going crazy, needing our space, craving a break?  Or will our Sukkah feel roomy, spacious, and with plenty of room for others to join?  Will we look forward to the next meal and more conversation?

 

The answer is not found in the dimensions of our sukkah, or in the quality of the food, or even in the behavior of our guests.  It is found in ourselves.  If we put on our ayin tova, our generous eye, there will be all the room in the world.  If we are seeing through our ayin ra’ah, our critical view, there isn’t a sukkah big enough in the world for us to be comfortable.

 

The Mishnah in Avos 5:5 lists ten miracles that occurred in the Beis HaMikdash.  One of them is that people stood crowded yet bowed down spaciously and nobody said that it was cramped.  The Chassam Sofer (y.d. 2:234) explains: Har HaBayis, the Temple Mount, was objectively crowded.  The miracle was that nobody felt confined or restricted because of the joy and love they felt at that moment.

 

Howard Schultz, the Chairman and Chief Global Strategist for Starbucks, visited Israel in 2011 and wrote an article upon his return.  He related an encounter that he and a number of high-powered executives had when they met with Rav Nosson Tzvi Finkel, zt”l, the former Rosh Yeshiva of the Mir:

 

Gentlemen, the elderly rabbi began, who can tell me the lesson of the Holocaust? The Rabbi called on one of the men who was surprised to be singled out and he began meekly, “We will never, ever forget …” The Rabbi indicated this was not the right answer… No one wanted to be called on next. Schultz avoided eye contact with the teacher so he wouldn’t be recognized. Another man spoke up saying “We should never be a victim or a bystander.”  The elderly Rabbi dismissed this answer as well.

 

At this point, Schultz said the entire group felt reduced to a group of elementary school students.  Then the Rabbi responded in gentle but firm voice, “Let me tell you the essence of the human spirit.  As you know, during the Holocaust, people were transported in the worst possible inhumane way, by cattle cars, convinced they were going to prisoner of war camps but ultimately they ending up in death camps. After hours and hours in the stifling crowded cattle car with no light, no bathroom, nowhere to sit, they arrived in the camps freezing cold and hungry.  The doors of the rail cars were swung wide open and the people inside were blinded by the light.

 

Men and women were separated, mothers were torn from their daughters and fathers from their sons, and they were herded off to bunks to sleep.  Only 1 person out of 6 was given a blanket. And at that moment, that person, who was fortunate enough to be handed that blanket, had a choice: am I going to push the blanket to the other five people who didn’t get one or am I going to pull it toward myself to stay warm?  Am I going to give or am I going to take?  It was during this defining moment that we learn the power of the human spirit, when people pushed the blanket to five others.” With that, the Rabbi stood up and said “take your blanket, take it home and push it to five other people.”

 

This Sukkos, let’s see our sukkah, our blanket and our love as big enough to share with other people.

 

 

 

The Most Important Trait to be a Good Friend

The wedding was magnificent. A beautiful chuppah took place on the beach as the sun set, and then it was time to go inside for the reception. I looked at my place card and went to my assigned table. When I got there, I was startled to discover that I was seated at a table of the chassan’s young friends, many of whom I had never met. I looked around the ballroom and noticed both a rabbis’ table and a table of community members, either one of which would have been a much more logical placement for me. I engaged in great conversation with the young men at my table and I enjoyed the evening, but I must admit, I was bewildered and confused as to why I was put at that table. To be honest, I was more than just perplexed. I was insulted and offended and felt somewhat singled out.

 

The final dance concluded, sheva brachos were recited, and I headed to the valet to retrieve my car. I reached into my suit pocket for the ticket, and immediately I felt like a fool. In my pocket were two place cards that looked exactly alike, with nearly identical envelopes and calligraphy. In truth, I had been assigned to sit at the table with my peers. Unbeknownst to me, however, a place card from a different wedding had remained in my pocket, and when the time came to find my seat, I had taken that old place card out instead of the one I had been assigned at this wedding.

 

place-cardThe Gemara (Bava Basra 60b) tell us, “Keshot atzmecha v’achar kach keshot acheirim,” which is usually translated as, “Correct yourself first and only then correct others.” Rav Samson Raphael Hirsch suggests an alternative translation. The word keshot appears a number of times in the tefillah of Berich Shmeih — as in Oraisei keshot u’neviohi keshot — and it means “truth.” Based on this, Rav Hirsch explains the mandate of our rabbis as, be truthful with yourself and only then examine others.

They say that when you point a finger at someone else, three more point back at you. In my case, it became obvious and undeniable that although I was pointing a finger at my hosts for having seated me in the wrong place, the blame lay entirely with me.

 

Often, life is more complicated and less clear. And yet how often do we rush to judgment, failing to pause and reflect on our role in any given situation? How often do we draw unfavorable conclusions regarding those around us, even our good friends?

 

The Mishnah (Avos 1:6) tells us: Aseh lecha rav u’kneh lecha chaver, v’hevei dan es kol ha’adam l’chaf zechus — Make yourself a rav and acquire for yourself a friend, and judge each person in a favorable manner. What is the connection between the injunction to give the benefit of the doubt and the imperative to acquire a friend?

 

Rav Menachem Benzion Sacks, in his commentary on Pirkei Avos, explains that the capacity to give the benefit of the doubt is a prerequisite to being a good friend. Nobody is perfect. Everyone has flaws and deficiencies. Shlomo Hamelech, in his great wisdom, observed, “Ki adam ein tzaddik ba’aretz asher yaaseh tov v’lo yecheta — there are no fully righteous people in the world who only do good and never fall short.”

 

We cannot have real, meaningful, and enriching friendships if we cannot favorably judge the people we interact with. Nobody wants to be judged negatively. None of us wants to be caught, criticized, or condemned by our friends.

 

To be a good friend means to allow other people to be imperfect and vulnerable and to give them the confidence that you will be loyal — which means giving them the benefit of the doubt and assuming the best, whenever possible.

 

So they didn’t e-mail, text, or call you back immediately. Perhaps they never received your message or were preoccupied with a pressing matter. So they haven’t reciprocated by inviting you for a Shabbos or Yom Tov meal. Maybe they cannot afford to entertain guests, or they are insecure in their ability to host a proper or meaningful Shabbos or Yom Tov seudah. So they said hello and shook hands with others at the kiddush or simchah and ignored you like you were invisible. Maybe they simply didn’t see you or were distracted at the moment.

 

To be a good friend is to be forgiving, flexible, and willing to cut others slack. It is to see the best in them, not look for the worst. To find an excuse or explanation for their behavior, not to compile the evidence to support a case against them.

 

Of course, not everyone deserves the benefit of the doubt, nor does everyone deserve our friendship. But if we seek to develop lasting friendships and acquire real friends, not just passing acquaintances, we must be more forbearing, and train ourselves to give the benefit of the doubt and not jump to assume the worst.

 

Rav Menachem Benzion Sacks points out that the Mishnah subtly includes a strategy for judging others favorably. Rather than say hevei dan ha’adam l’chaf zechus it says hevei dan es kol ha’adam l’chaf zechus, judge the entire person favorably. The key to drawing positive conclusions is to look at the entire person, including his finest qualities and your whole history with him, rather than concentrate on the isolated negative incident alone. To be a good friend is to see the totality of the person, including who he strives to be, and not just focus on the reality of that particular moment.

 

Next time you are tempted to point your finger at another, check your pocket. You may just find that the fault lies with you.

 

Strategies for Making Real Changes in Your Life

“Rabbi, what is that on your wrist?”

“It’s a Fitbit.”

 

“Why do you wear it?”

 

“It tracks how many steps I take each day, the quantity and quality of my sleep, and other important pieces of information.”

 

“C’mon Rabbi, sounds like shtick to me.  Do you really need that?  What does it do for you?  You already know you should be active each day and that you need to get enough sleep, so just do what you are supposed to, why do you need to wear something?”

 

I thought about his question and it struck me as compelling.  We know what we need to do in life, so why not just do it?  Why involve outside “shtick”?  Isn’t it just a distraction?

 

And then I remembered an excellent quote from the great management expert Peter Drucker: “What Gets Measured Gets Managed.”

 

“The value of wearing a Fitbit,” I told my friend, “is that it holds me accountable to achieve my commitment and forces me to confront the reality of falling short, rather than at the end of each day bluffing or fooling myself about what had in fact transpired that day.”

 

Across the world from Professor Peter Drucker lived another management expert, only he specialized in personal management. Rav Kalonymus Kalman Shapira, Hy”d, also known as the Piaseczno Rebbe, was a Chassidic Rebbe in Poland who served as the Rabbi of the Warsaw Ghetto and, after surviving the uprising, was later shot dead by the Nazis in the Trawniki labor camp. Among his many talents, he had incredible insight into human psychology.

 

In his spiritual diary called Tzav V’Ziruz he writes the following entry (#15):

 

If you have been able to draw up personal rules for your spiritual growth, consider this a success.  But if you have not, then either you have not devoted your life to personal growth or you are blind to your own failures and successes.

 

Because the spiritual seeker who channels his efforts to his inner world will inevitably be faced with difficulty and distraction – not only external ones like supporting his family but also in his inner world such as indolence, negative tendencies, destructive character traits, and so forth – and because the spiritual seeker is constantly involved in this inner battle, sometimes winning and sometimes losing, he will inevitably come to conclusions: which strategies work for him and which ones bring out his weakness.

 

So someone who cannot draw such conclusions is not engaged in the battle – he neither wins nor loses.  Or else he is unaware of both his inner weaknesses and strong points.  (Translation from Yehoshua Starret)

 

Essentially, the Piaseczno Rebbe says that when it comes to our character, our personal growth and becoming the best version of ourselves – what gets measured, gets managed.  One cannot claim to care about growing spiritually and fail to devise a plan or a strategy, set goals, and, most importantly, identify how progress will be measured.

 

It is one thing to say you want to work on having greater patience and being slower to anger and another to articulate a plan for how.  Does the plan answer questions such as: What triggers your anger? Why do you lose patience?  How will you learn to react differently?  How will you measure and track if you are improving in this area?

 

It is one thing to say you want to work on improving your davening and another to design a strategy to actually grow in your prayer experiences.  Have you considered what is your biggest challenge connecting in prayer?  When has prayer uplifted you in the past and what elements contributed to that positive experience and result?  How will you improve?  Will you read a book on prayer?  Listen to classes on prayer? What are the metrics you will use to measure your growth in davening?

 

The difference between a desire to grow being just lip service and empty words versus the beginning of real change is designing our personalized Spiritual Fitbit – a Spiritbit.

 

Here are a few things to consider when programming your Spiritbit:

 

     

  • Limit – Identify one or two areas you want to work on at a time. Taking on too much at one time makes it overwhelming and intimidating, making it almost impossible to make real progress.
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  • Be Real – Be realistic in setting the goals. Don’t pledge to make radical changes that are impossible to achieve and unsustainable to maintain.
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  • Plan – The Rambam writes that to authentically accomplish teshuva, vidui, articulating what we have done wrong, must be done out loud. Only by saying or writing what went wrong and what we will do to repair and improve in the future can we avoid bluffing ourselves or our way through this process.  Putting our plan and goals into words causes us to be thoughtful, strategic, honest, and gives us a reference to measure against.
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  • Accountability – Involve a family member, friend, or confidant in holding you accountable for doing what you say you are going to do. Choose someone trustworthy, kind, and who is more interested in helping you grow than in catching you fail.
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  • Schedule – Most businesses and companies have employee reviews. A good review seeks to validate and accentuate the positive while identifying and isolating areas that need improvement.  Without scheduled reviews, it is unlikely time would be taken to reflect and to plan.  Put in your schedule designated times to review your progress.
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  • Celebrate – Make space to celebrate your progress and growth. Be proud and use that pride to be motivated to grow further.
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  • Start Again – Don’t stop just because you accomplished your particular goal. Set more goals and pursue them with the same resolve that brought you success the first time.
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Get more sleep, lose weight, have less anger, stop feeling jealous, improve davening, be more scrupulous in following Jewish law, set aside time daily for Torah study – whatever the area you want to work on, this can absolutely be your year.

 

But it won’t happen if you don’t design a Spiritbit, a mechanism to be honest and to track results.  Wear your Spiritbit and finally become the best version of yourself.

 

Does Anything Give You Goosebumps?

Image result for beethoven's piano bonn germany

The home of the great composer Ludwig van Beethoven has been preserved and serves as a museum in Bonn, Germany.  One historical gem in the museum is the piano upon which Beethoven composed most of his renowned works.  The piano is estimated to be worth more than $50 million and is understandably roped off and out of the reach of the thousands of visitors who pass it by each day.

 

The story is told about a group of students from Vassar College who were once visiting the Beethoven museum. One of the students came to the room that held the piano and couldn’t resist the temptation to ask a museum guard if she could play it for a moment.  The guard allowed himself to be influenced by her generous tip and let the young woman beyond the ropes for a few moments.  She sat at the famed piano and knocked out several bars of Moonlight Sonata.  When she finished, her classmates applauded.

 

As she stepped back through the ropes, the young woman asked the guard, “I suppose over the years, all the great pianists that have come here have played the piano?”  “No, miss,” the guard replied.  “In fact, just two years ago I was standing in this very place when Ignacy Paderewski visited the museum.  He was accompanied by the director of the museum and the international press, who had all come in the hope that he would play the piano.

 

“When he entered the room he stood over there, where your friends are standing and gazed at the piano in silent contemplation for almost fifteen minutes.  The director of the museum then invited him to play the piano, but with tears welling in his eyes Paderewski declined, saying that he was not worthy even to touch it.”

 

Non-human mammals get what we call goosebumps, the constriction of skin surrounding hair follicles, when they feel threatened or attacked.  Only human beings get goosebumps for a different feeling: awe.  Awe is the feeling of being in the presence of greatness, of being exposed to that which is transcendent or extraordinary.  Paderewski was in a room with Beethoven’s piano and was frozen with awe.  The young student saw the piano and thought it would be cool to casually play it.

 

Researchers believe that we are living in a time of awe deprivation.  Technological advances have made things once thought impossible not only real, but normal, expected, even mundane and unimpressive.  We FaceTime with people on the other side of the globe without another thought, we have search engines that access millions of pages of information in nanoseconds, we instinctively use global positioning satellites to find the quickest route and avoid traffic.  The result of the speed with which breakthrough, change, and advance happens leaves us struggling to be impressed with anything.

 

We have gone from calling everything “awesome,” to reacting to everything by saying (or thinking) “eh.”  The byproducts of being awe-deprived are increased arrogance, decreased empathy, greater challenge to find meaning, and even failing health.

 

A Wall Street Journal article describes how current research shows that the capacity to feel awe makes people more empathetic, generous, kind, and humble.  The actual feeling of awe and the experiences that inspire it make us healthier, improve our relationships, and give more meaning to our lives.  The author writes, “Awe is an emotional response to something vast, and it challenges and expands our way of seeing the world.  It might be triggered by an encounter with nature, a religious experience, a concert or a political rally or sports event.  We’re not likely to find it on a treadmill at the gym.”

 

She goes on to describe that some experienced awe at the birth of a child, others watching a meteor shower, others visiting the Pine Forest in California, and interestingly, others who found it awe-inspiring to work with homeless people and witness their resilience and kindness.  Dr. Dacher Keltner from UC Berkeley found that feeling awe can help fight depression and can even help reduce inflammation in the body.  Dr. Paul Piff from UC Irvine explained that “awe minimizes our individual identity and attunes us to things bigger than ourselves.”

 

This week we officially begin Elul and with it the countdown towards the Yamim Noraim, the Days of Awe.  On Rosh Hashanah we will coronate God as King of the Universe and remind ourselves of His awesome omnipotence and omniscience.  On Yom Kippur, we will be evaluated and judged to determine if we are fulfilling our role in His renewed kingdom and the purpose for which we were created.  As described in U’nesaneh Tokef, these days are in fact, norah v’ayom, they are simply and literally awesome.

 

But we will only be moved by the awesomeness of these days if we still have the capacity for awe, reverence, and veneration.  If everything is so utterly unimpressive, uninspiring, and ordinary, these days will be ritualistic and ceremonial, empty and devoid of meaning and transformation.

 

Rav Yitzchak Hutner z”tl explains that Amalek is the archrival of the Jewish people because their philosophy is the very antithesis of ours.  When recounting Amalek’s attack on the Jewish people, the Pasuk says, “Asher karcha baderech – they happened upon you.” Amalek believes in mikreh, in chance, randomness, and happenstance.  They see nothing as chashuv, nothing as significant, meaningful, or worthy of awe.  As a result, Amalek’s attitude is to denigrate, to knock down, to destroy, to be cynical, and sarcastic.  Amalek mocks and makes fun, they look at something or someone others are in awe of and they seek to demolish, to degrade, to vilify.

 

We, the Jewish people, are charged to live life with the opposite attitude and approach.  Our mission is to live life with awe, to see ourselves as a small part of something much greater.  Our charge is to see and create meaning and purpose, to lift up, to build, to admire, to revere, and to venerate that which is worthy and important in the world.

 

Rav Hutner describes that the battle between the attitude of Amalek and the attitude of the Torah is the battle between what he calls the ko’ach ha’chillul and the ko’ach ha’hillul.  The ko’ach ha’chillul is the power of skepticism, the influence of that little voice inside each of us that, like Amalek, tries to get us to be cynical, to mock and belittle, rather than to respect and be filled with awe.  The ko’ach ha’hillul is the capacity to praise, honor, identify and admire the beauty and the greatness which is sometimes beneath the surface.

 

Preparing for the Days of Awe includes working to defeat the Amalek inside us.  It demands we weaken and eliminate the ko’ach ha’chillul, our tendency or inclination towards cynicism and skepticism, and strengthen and build up our capacity for ko’ach ha’hillul: to see that which is impressive, remarkable and praiseworthy in people, places, and things all around us.

 

Awe is not only the result of being in the presence of, or exposed to, something worthy of awe.  Awe results from an openness, willingness, and interest to see greatness and be moved by it.  My brother Judah pointed out to me that when Yaakov Avinu first encounters Har HaMoriah he is unmoved and in fact goes to sleep.  Only after his dream and epiphany does he awaken with a sense of “Mah norah ha’makom ha’zeh, how awesome is this place?”   Even a great person like Yaakov could encounter the holiest place in the world and at first find no meaning in it.  Only with new insight and a changed attitude did he see beyond the ordinary stones and identify the place for what it truly was: norah, awesome.

 

The WSJ article suggests that to preserve and expand our capacity for awe, we must make an effort to have three awe experiences a week.  This Elul, look at something, study something, contemplate something, admire someone, experience something that makes you feel “Wow! That is awesome.” “That is incredible.” “That is humbling.”

 

Albert Einstein is quoted as saying, “There are only two ways to live your life.  One is as though nothing is a miracle, the other is as though everything is a miracle.”  As we prepare for the Days of Awe, let’s choose to see everything as a miracle and be filled with awe as a result.

 

The New Isn’t Always Better Than the Old

**The following article appears in The People & the Book column of the Jerusalem Report

 

 

 

Over three decades later, it is still considered one of the biggest marketing blunders of modern times.  In 1985 one of the most recognized businesses on the planet admitted a newly-released product had flopped, and relaunched the product that had been superseded, to general satisfaction. We can learn a great deal from their miscalculation: more of this shortly.

 

This week’s Torah portion, Ekev, contains the second paragraph of the shema prayer, which begins by telling us that if we listen to God’s expectations of us, we will live a fulfilled and blessed life. “V’hayah im shamo’a tishme’u el mitzvotai.”  This opening expression is awkward and indeed proves difficult to translate.  Why does it mean to surely listen as opposed to just listen?

 

The eighteenth-century scholar, Rav Chaim Ben Attar in his commentary Ohr Ha’Chaim explains it as follows: V’haya, im shamo’a, if you listen – if you sincerely and genuinely consider what is being said – tishme’u, then you will hear.  The verb was repeated to show that being an active listener is a prerequisite for true hearing, which is the cornerstone of a healthy relationship. This insight is not only true for our relationship with the Almighty and His messages and directives for us, but also critical for every relationship we have in life.

 

In his highly acclaimed Seven Habits of Highly Effective People, author Stephen Covey writes, “Most people do not listen with the intent to understand; they listen with the intent to reply. They’re either speaking or preparing to speak. They’re filtering everything through their own paradigms, reading their autobiography into other people’s lives.”  Imagine how our world would change, our relationships would grow, our opportunities would expand and our wisdom would increase if we learn to be better listeners so that we truly hear the words and messages coming our way regularly.

 

The great medieval commentator Rashi offers an alternative interpretation.  Quoting the Midrash he says: “Im shamo’a b’yashan, tishme’u b’chadash.  If you listen to the old, you will hear it in the new.”  What does that mean?

 

Words have connotations.  “Old” often has a derogatory undertone and implies outdated, antiquated, stale, tired and no longer useful.  We use “new” to describe something fresh, exciting, cutting edge and superior.  In our world, the old is obsolete and discontinued while the new is sought after and sold out.

 

Perhaps Rashi is telling us that this paradigm is flawed.  The new is not necessarily an upgrade.  The old is often superior and it is the standard by which the new is measured.

 

Let’s go back to where we started. In 1985 Coca-Cola was 99 years old and the company was concerned the drink was becoming stale and outdated.  They therefore reformulated Coca-Cola and launched “New Coke.” Their extensive taste tests had convinced them that their new formula was more satisfying to “modern taste buds.”

 

It turned out that the old was much better and more sought after than the new. The public reaction was such that in less than 80 days, Coca-Cola announced that they were bringing back the original Coke, now branded as Classic Coke.   It still sells over a billion bottles and cans a day.

 

In the world of marketing and products something is either old or new.  However, in the life of a Jew committed to Torah there is no such dichotomy or clash between old and new; they co-exist and complement one another beautifully.  The new must be built on the age-old; the old is its foundation, and it is the window and filter through which the new is viewed and received.  The old, our heritage, tradition, teachings and values are the yardstick through which we measure, evaluate and absorb the new.

 

Never has “new” occurred at such a frantic and feverish pace.  In our lives, the word upgrade is everywhere.  We are bombarded with messages encouraging us to upgrade our cell phone, upgrade our software, upgrade our apps, upgrade our car and even upgrade our appearance.

 

The “new” in technology, medicine, social progress and even Jewish practices brings much opportunity and blessing that we should embrace and integrate into our lives.  However, much of the “new” is incompatible with and rejected by our old, timeless and inviolate values, teachings and practices.  In religious life, often ideas and practices that are presented as upgrades and progress are in fact downgrades and regress.

 

How do we know if we should embrace or rebuff, accept or reject the new?  According to Rashi, the answer is in our portion and we repeat it each day in our Shema.  “If you listen to the old, you will hear it in the new.”  We must always investigate the “new” and see if we find echoes of the “old” making it a continuation of our tradition, not an abandonment of it.

 

Rabbi Efrem Goldberg

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