Preparing for God’s Courtroom

“Do you solemnly swear or affirm that you will tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth, so help you God?”

“I do.”

Though there wasn’t formal training for this in Rabbinical school, over my relatively short career I have appeared in court on behalf of others at least a few dozen times. Often it is to testify on a divorce matter, but I have also served as a character witness on drug issues, financial disputes and even a false rape accusation.

Remarkably, more often than not, the occasions that I have been asked to come to court have fallen during this time of the year, in the month of Elul. As I sat in a courtroom again just this week, I noticed the many comparisons we can draw to the great court dates we will all face just a short time from now on Rosh Hashana and Yom Kippur, and the lessons we can learn:

1. Fate – The tension, anxiety and uncertainty in a courtroom are palpable. All parties, including highly skilled legal counsel, know that they can advance the most persuasive arguments and provide the most compelling evidence, but ultimately the judge – and the judge alone – will rule in their case as he sees fit. Despite all of their efforts and pleadings, the fate of the litigants is solely in the hands of the judge who will determine their future. There is much we can learn from observing the temperament, behavior and disposition of those appearing before a human judge. As we stand before the Almighty, how can we better truly feel and acknowledge that our fate is in His hands?

2. Decorum – The decorum in a courtroom is impeccable. The parties all dress formally, given the seriousness of appearing before a Magistrate. There is an absolute and total intolerance for talking, eating, ringing cell phones, noisy children, or anything else that will either distract from the proceedings or compromise the prestige of the courtroom. How is the decorum in God’s courtroom? Do we create an atmosphere that is equally intolerant of distractions and frivolous conversation? Do our dress and behavior reflect the seriousness and majesty of the forum in which we stand and the reason we are there?

3. Preparation – No lawyer or client walks into a courtroom without having prepared. The strategy is devised, the witnesses are prepped, and opening and closing arguments are scripted and rehearsed. Many hours are spent in preparation before appearing before the judge in an effort to achieve a favorable result. The gemara in Berachos tells us that the early pious Jews would spend an hour in meditation, preparing to pray. How much preparation do we do? Do we dedicate a few moments to clear our minds and focus our thoughts before making our presentation before the Judge of Judges?

4. Swearing In – I find it noteworthy that before a witness testifies, the court asks him or her to swear in God’s name that he or she will tell the truth. Implicitly, the statement acknowledges God’s existence and the consequences of dishonoring His name by lacking fidelity to the truth. The court assumes that the fear of God will prevent any witness from violating his oath to tell only the truth. Jewish law also mandates taking an oath in certain circumstances. The gemara explains that invoking God’s name will automatically elevate the seriousness with which the witness approaches his words. Our words matter, particularly in a courtroom, and using them accurately, appropriately and with integrity speaks to our very credibility as people. Do we always say what we mean and mean what we say? Are we honest, truthful and precise when reporting experiences to others? Does the fear of God lead us to be honest with God -– and ourselves?

5. Record – Every courtroom has either a stenographer sitting and typing each word that is uttered, or a recording device that captures everything that is said. Lawyers, witnesses and litigants must choose their words carefully, for once they are expressed they enter the record for posterity. The mishna in Avos teaches us to know Who is above us and therefore to recognize that an eye is always watching, an ear is always listening, v’chol ma’asecha b’sefer nichtavimv – and all of our deeds are recorded forever. Do we live with a cognizance and consciousness that what we say and do matters and that they enter the record of our lives, even when nobody is around to see it?

6. Contempt of Court – Part of the proceedings I observed this week included an accusation that one party had been in contempt of court for not following a court order. The judge turned to the accused party and said, “Do you understand that when I issue a ruling, if the other party can supply evidence that you knowingly and willingly disobeyed me, I will find you in contempt of my court and there will be great consequences? I can throw you in jail, and you will remain there until you obey my judgment.” Do we honor and obey the rulings of the Judge of Judges? Do we recognize that our choices have consequences and we are accountable for what we do? Are we in contempt of God’s court?

The comparisons could go on, but it is evident what I am trying to communicate at this solemn season of the Jewish year. Sitting in a courtroom in the month of Elul is, I have found, among the best sources of inspiration and motivation to prepare for the Days of Awe so that they are, indeed, awesome days of prayer, introspection, reflection and growth.

I hope and pray that none of us has to appear in a courtroom as a litigant. But should you find yourself there as a witness or juror or prospective juror, take advantage of the opportunity to observe and learn and find inspiration for your appearance in God’s courtroom in the hope that you will find favor in His eyes and secure a favorable outcome from the Supreme Judge.

A Land of Opportunity

It is not every day that you pull up to a Kosher restaurant in Boca Raton and discover two black SUV’s with tinted windows in the parking lot and Secret Service agents at the entrance. At first, I thought they were there to protect Yocheved and me on our dinner date and help us get some private time together without interruptions. But then I realized that sitting in the back corner, quietly and unobtrusively eating his meal, was Jack Lew, the White House Chief of Staff. Mr. Lew was in town for a couple of days of meetings and it shouldn’t come as a surprise that he sought out a Kosher establishment for dinner, as he is an observant Jew.

The hour was late and I knew he was leaving Florida the next day. We had met previously and, after reintroducing myself, I asked a somewhat brazen question: ”Did he have ten minutes to meet with our teens – anytime, anywhere?” The Krasnas were there too, and after I introduced them to Mr. Lew, they joined me in singing the praises of our BRS Pro-Israel Teen Advocacy group, under the inspired leadership of Rabbi Pilichowski. Mr. Lew told me that it was unlikely, but took my card just in case something would change.

Imagine my surprise when after 11 p.m. an email arrived saying he had shuffled somethings around in his schedule and would be at BRS at 9:15 a.m. to meet with the students for 10 minutes. (Oh, and by the way, the Secret Service would be scoping out the BRS campus in the middle of the night.) Rabbi Pilichowski worked his magic, and less than nine hours later, more than 20 teens had an off-the-record meeting with the White House Chief of Staff in the Rand Sanctuary of the Boca Raton Synagogue.

Mr. Lew did not take advantage of this opportunity to campaign for or heap praise on the president and his administration. His words were neither partisan nor oriented to a particular philosophy or party. Instead, he spoke to the teens about something that every observant Jewish teenager – and adult, for that matter – should hear. His message was simple, and yet profound. If you respect your religion, your heritage, and your tradition, others will as well. If you carry yourself with dignity and class, it will reflect well on your belief system, and others will thereby honor your religious boundaries.

He continued by telling the students that at every stage of his career, whether it was during his work for Speaker Tip O’Neal, as part of the Clinton Administration or now, working directly for President Obama, his commitment to Shabbos, Kashrus, and Halacha never got in the way or held him back from advancing professionally. In fact, knowing how important Shabbos is to Mr. Lew, the President will often turn to him on a Friday afternoon and say, “Shouldn’t you be heading out now to make it home before sundown?”

The Chief of Staff’s second message was as important as his first. Just because you are an observant Jew, don’t feel entitled or act in a way that will cause others to be resentful of your lifestyle. If you need to be inaccessible on Saturdays, be the first to volunteer when something needs to be done on a Sunday. If you are not available on Jewish holidays, go out of your way to cover December 25^th through New Year’s. “Recognize,” said Mr. Lew, “every time you need to be off, someone else needs to cover for you and get your work done. Don’t take that lightly and don’t feel entitled.”

He closed by sharing an observation that should be moving no matter what party you affiliate with or how much you may agree or disagree with the current administration. Jack Lew’s father escaped from a small town in Eastern Europe that had no survivors from among those who remained after the Nazis took it over. He came to America barely speaking English and struggling to cling to his tradition and heritage. Mr. Lew described to the teens that just one generation ago his father had to run for his life simply because he was a Jew. Now, one generation later, he sits with the President of the United States in the Oval Office every day as an Orthodox Jew. This is a land of freedom, blessing and opportunity; never take it for granted.

The Chief of Staff’s final remarks resonated deeply for me because they were exactly what I felt on my two recent visits to the White House. In May, Yocheved and I were privileged to attend the Jewish Heritage Month reception in the East Wing of the White House. As we entered the reception together with Jewish leaders from across the country, all I could think of were the centuries and millennia that Jews were denied access to those who ruled over them. Instead of graciously being invited to a seat at the table, our ancestors were kicked out the door of many of the countries in which they lived. And now Yocheved, the granddaughter of Holocaust survivors, and I, the grandson of immigrants who fled after Kristallnacht, were invited to spend a few hours in the most powerful building in the world to celebrate Jewish contributions to this great country. As if that wasn’t enough, signs were displayed announcing that the food was “Glatt Kosher, Chassidishe Shechita, Pas Yisroel and all wine was Mevushal.” We were provided the Red Room to daven Mincha, as the Secret Service protected our prayers from being disturbed by noisy people gathering nearby.

Only a week after attending the Jewish Heritage Month reception, I was truly humbled to be invited among a group of Jewish leaders to a meeting in the West Wing under the auspices of the Orthodox Union. The meeting was intended to be with Jack Lew, though the president ended up joining us for the majority of the conversation. That day, too, I was overwhelmed by a sense of amazement and gratitude that we live in such an extraordinary time that the Orthodox Jewish community is considered worthy and significant enough to be hosted by the President in the White House. One can only wonder what might have been different if the American Jewish community had such access to FDR during the Holocaust and how many Jewish lives might have been saved?

Mr. Lew only had time for one question, and our students asked what is front and center on most of our minds: Will America back Israel if she attacks Iran? The Chief of Staff spent 2 minutes answering the question. But to be honest, it was his early remarks that left the more powerful impression on our teenagers, and I believe it will impact them for years to come.

In a time of heightened partisanship, particularly as we approach the election, one thing we can all agree on is that we live in historic times for the American Jewish community. Hakaras ha’tov, gratitude and appreciation, or more literally, recognizing the good, is a bipartisan value and should transcend politics. As Orthodox Jews, we in particular must be grateful for the opportunities afforded to us in this country every single day, opportunities many of our ancestors only dreamt of. We must not take them for granted and we should feel obligated to use them fully to create a Kiddush Hashem everywhere that we go. White House Chief of Staff Jack Lew is doing it, and so should we.

When You Can’t Find the Right Words

We all struggle to find the appropriate thing to say. Whether its bedside of a terminally ill person, seeing a friend whom you just discovered is getting divorced, comforting a mourner, or trying to show support to someone after a miscarriage or stillbirth, it is nearly impossible in some situations to find the right words. Indeed, instead, many fumble, stumble and actually say something that causes more discomfort than comfort and more stress than solace. So what should be done, how should we react?

Rav Asher Weiss asks that it seems we have two verses that teach the same thing. In our parsha, we are taught, acharei Hashem Elokeichem teileichu, follow Hashem by imitating Him. The gemara also derives from another source, az yashir – zeh Keili v’anveihu, just as He is kind and compassionate so must you be. These two teachings sound exactly the same, but we know that can’t be. We don’t derive the same lesson from two different versus so what is the difference between the messages?

I once read an article in the Journal of the American Medical Association written by a second year medical student. He explained that he learned a lot of information, science and medicine in his first year, but there was one lesson that was more important. He writes of an experience going on rounds with his professor:

“I started by explaining that we were first-year medical students and that I hoped he wouldn’t mind if I asked him some questions about his illness. Mr. B replied that he was happy to participate. I started at the beginning of his illness and he told me that he had been readmitted to the hospital for the treatment of a recurrence of his cancer. As he told his story, he pulled up his loose hospital gown and exposed his abdomen, showing us a scar from a prior surgery, which had resulted in the removal of an abdominal tumor.

As I proceeded with the interview, I concluded that aside from the nurses, we were probably Mr B’s first visitors that day. I wondered about his family, which he had not mentioned so far. A bit later, I asked him if any of his family members had visited him since his readmission. In a stoic fashion, he answered that he had admitted himself to the hospital a week before to undergo his current chemotherapy regimen and he had pressed his wife to stay behind. He reported he did not feel it was worth his wife’s time to stay with him. He reasoned that he would be home in a week’s time and strongly encouraged his wife to avoid missing time at her job and to take care of their house.

On the one hand, Mr B’s composure, strength, and determination impressed me. At the same time, it seemed paradoxical. How was it possible for him to cope with a cancer recurrence all by himself? My curiosity got the better of me. I decided to deviate from my memorized list of questions and to explore gently his professed independence. After taking a moment to find the appropriate words, I said, “Mr B, your courage has impressed me and I admire your determination and strength. Can you share with us what it is that is carrying you through this challenging period in your life?” The question had barely left my mouth when his expression changed. The hard lines of his face and the rigidity of his trunk seemed to soften. It seemed like my question had struck a deep chord within him. He briefly glanced up at the ceiling and after a few moments, he looked back and confessed, “The hope of going back into remission is what’s carrying me through all of this.” He then began to cry.

Earlier in the year I had observed Dr C holding the hand of another tearful patient. After that patient encounter our group discussed with her the pros and cons of a physician taking hold of a patient’s hand. Some of us were more comfortable with doing so than others. Some students expressed concerns about the appropriateness of holding a patient’s hand and whether doing so might be deemed an intrusion into the patient’s personal space. After facilitating a discussion about the matter, Dr C concluded that a physician has to use appropriate judgment and be personally comfortable with holding a patient’s hand before extending his or her own.

There I was sitting next to my crying patient. I was at a loss for words to respond to my patient’s tearfulness. Instead, I took his hand and held it firmly. He gently squeezed my hand in reply. The room was briefly silent. Somehow, my gesture, I believe, seemed to confer a wordless message of support and encouragement. Eventually, after a few moments, Dr. C stepped forward. She thanked Mr B for his time. Our group wished him well, and we moved into the hall. I was the last to leave. As I did so, I looked back at Mr B, briefly bowed my head, and waved my hand as I stepped outside.”

Rav Asher Weiss explains that there is a fundamental difference between the two lessons that seem identical. Following Hashem by imitating Him represents the first level. It means we should emulate His actions. Visit the sick, bury the dead, feed the poor, comfort the mourner, etc. This level could be achieved by actions alone.

The second lesson, however, in which we don’t just follow Hashem, but glorify Him, requires us to give more than just our actions. We must give of ourselves. We must feel empathy, compassion and concern for those who are suffering. Following Hashem means taking care of His children. Glorifying Hashem means even more. It is feeling the pain of His children, identifying with their hurt, putting ourselves in their circumstance and seeking to sympathize with their plight.

As we begin the month of Elul, it is a time to not only work on our relationship with Hashem, but to improve the love, care and concern we show His children. Unfortunately, there are too many opportunities to give of ourselves and to display empathy all around us. Showing someone you feel his or her pain can bring tremendous comfort. Reach out to someone struggling financially, or to someone you suspect is feeling isolated or alone. Visit someone who is sick or recovering from illness.

When it is difficult to find the right words, don’t feel obligated to say any. Like the second year medical student, we can convey more with a silent gesture of empathy, affection or support, than with uncomfortable platitudes. Sometimes, just letting a person know that you empathize with their pain and wish you could take it away is the greatest comfort you can offer.

Many Ordinary People Have Led Extraordinary Lives

I was leaving Shul after davening Shacharis one recent morning when an older gentleman in our community stopped me and asked if I had a minute to talk. The truth was, I barely had time to say hello let alone entertain an entire conversation. I had intentionally “snuck” out of Shul so I could rush somewhere that I needed to be. But, he seemed so happy to run into me in the parking lot that morning and so I couldn’t say no. At the time I felt somewhat annoyed being delayed, but by the end of the conversation I couldn’t help but feel incredibly fortunate and blessed to have run into him that morning. He shared with me a most remarkable story that changed not only the way I see him as an individual, but also the way I relate to people in general.

A few days before this chance encounter between just the two of us, we had sat on the floor together with many others reading Kinnos, Lamentations commemorating the tragic suffering of our people throughout the ages. In my introduction to the Kinah composed by Yirmiyahu HaNavi for Yoshiyahu, I shared an insight of Rav Soloveitchik. Why, asked the Rav, do we pause in our mourning for millions of Jewish martyrs throughout the millennia, to focus on the story of a particular individual? He explained that when we reflect on the magnitude of the loss of Jewish lives throughout our history, the sheer number is overwhelming and staggering. Indeed, paradoxically, the greater the quantity of individuals lost, the more challenging the quality of our sense of grief for them. The Rav felt that we dedicate an entire Kinnah to Yoshiyahu, a single individual, to remember that the loss of millions is really the loss of one plus one plus one plus one. Each person is unique and irreplaceable. Each loss equals the loss of an entire world.

I continued by relaying a personal experience from leading March of the Living, a tour for teenagers of Poland and Israel. One of the most powerful points of the trip is the visit to the death camp, Majdanek. From the intact barracks to the enormous pit of human ash, touring Majdanek is simply devastating. One of the most stirring images of the entire trip is a barrack in Majdanek filledwith shoes that were confiscated from Jewish prisoners. When you enter the barracks, all you see are shoes everywhere.

We encouraged the students not to look at all of the shoes together. Instead, we told them, pick out one shoe to focus on. Gaze at it. Who was its owner? How did they feel when they bought those shoes and when they slipped them on for the first time? Where did these shoes lead them? Recognize that each shoe was worn by a person who had a mother and father and perhaps a spouse and children. They had a personality, dreams, ambitions, and goals. All of it was tragically cut down and all that is left to commemorate them is the shoe that is before you.

Standing in the parking lot a few mornings later, the elderly man reminded me of my remarks and told me that he must share a story. He proceeded to say that when he was a young child he was taken, together with his family, to Auschwitz. His brothers and father were taken one direction and he was ordered to go a different one. He found himself in a room with other children and elderly people. The Nazis instructed them to take off their shoes and undress. There was one older man who was wearing the most magnificent, fancy, expensive shoes. He went up to the guard and said, “I won’t leave my shoes here, they are my prize possession.” The guard’s laughed and said, “do you think where you are going you are going to need shoes” and commanded him to undress.

Our member continued by telling me that even as a young child, when he heard the guard’s laugh and his unforgettable words, he thought to himself, dos iz nisht gut, this is not good, and instinctively ran, avoiding all of the guards, until he rejoined his brothers and father. Looking back all these years later, he confessed, he doesn’t know how he made it from one barracks to another without being caught or seen or how he was able to blend in with the grown up men as a young boy. But, he said, the only reason he survived is because of that man’s fancy pair of shoes and the fact that he wouldn’t part with them.

I walked away from the conversation that morning feeling so small, utterly insignificant, and frankly somewhat embarrassed. Until that morning, this man, whom I have always tried to be friendly towards, was nothing more than ordinary to me. True he had an accent and likely had a “story.” But, he modestly blends in and quietly goes about his business as if he has led the most mundane, uneventful life when in truth his life, was anything but.

If you look around you on a regular basis, there are seemingly ordinary people who in fact have led the most extraordinary lives. This shy, humble, quiet man had displayed unfathomable courage, tenacity and strength in his life. His attendance at davening every day of the week is in truth an enormous expression of faith and devotion to the Almighty, despite the hardships, tragedy and loss that he has confronted.

All too often, we only learn the background of a person when it is too late to ask them questions. We walk away from their funeral inspired, impressed, but also curious to learn more. With their loss goes their story as only they could tell it, the answers to our questions and the solutions to that which peaks our curiosity.

Last week I learned that a man I had considered an “average Joe,” was indeed a mighty hero. Let’s not wait until it is too late to learn other people’s stories. Be inquisitive, ask questions, and most importantly recognize that behind most ordinary people are extraordinary experiences that we can all learn from, if only we take a moment to ask.

The Value of Every Millisecond

There are countless lessons to extract from the Olympics currently taking place in London, England. The tenacity, resolve, grit, discipline, drive, and sense of teamwork of each athlete, is simply inspiring and can serve to motivate each one of us to pursue our dreams relentlessly. Olympians serve as models of being extraordinarily focused and determined to realize the goals they have set for themselves. They are not satisfied with anything less than putting forth their very best effort and achieving the best results. Watching them obligates each one of us to identify at least one dream or goal for ourselves and to pursue it with everything that we have.

But there is another lesson that strikes me during this Olympic season and it too is applicable to our lives. Most of us tend to devalue time. Young people think that they will live forever and have endless amounts of time before them. Older people sometimes feel that the prime of their lives is over and spend the days trying to pass the time. Contemporary society has even developed an idiom “killing time.” Technology has made this task easier as we can pass the hours mindlessly surfing the web, playing on our smart phones or flipping the channels.

From a Jewish perspective killing time is a crime tantamount to murder, only when you do it, you are both the perpetrator and the victim simultaneously. Time is among the most precious commodities that we have. Once it has passed, it cannot be recovered. If it is wasted, it cannot be made up. There is a limited amount of it allocated to each one of us and with every passing second we come closer to emptying our account. As badly as we would like to slow it down sometimes, or speed it up at others, we cannot control time as it moves along at a steady pace entirely beyond our controller manipulation.

Each moment of our lives is precious and pregnant with possibility. We have the choice to fill our time with noble pursuits like helping others, improving ourselves, challenging our minds, developing our souls, caring for our bodies, or connecting with family and friends. Or, God forbid, we can allow time to pass without anything meaningful, squandered, wasted and unused.

As endless and limitless as time may seem in our lives, in truth every single moment counts. There is no place that we see the value of every second more poignantly than the Olympics. Athletes train their entire lives building up to this moment. Whether diving into a pool or pushing off the starting line of the track, everything they have worked for comes down to this. Races are often decided in the fraction of a second. The difference between qualifying or staying home, winning a medal or simply showing, being celebrated or a forgotten can be a millisecond.

Not only must we make every day in our lives count, every hour, every minute and as the Olympics teaches us, every millisecond matters, and can make or break us. If we combine all those milliseconds that we waste, we can find the time we think we don’t have, to pursue noble endeavors and to achieve our goals, aspirations and dreams.

A Jew once asked Rav Yisroel Salanter “if I only have fifteen minutes a day to learn, what should I learn, Chumash, Gemara, Navi or Halacha?” Rav Yisroel answered – “Learn Mussar, character development, and you will realize that you have much more than fifteen minutes a day to learn.”

Every Moment Is Precious (Author Anonymous) –

To realize the value of ONE YEAR

Ask a student who has failed his exam.

To realize the value of ONE MONTH

Ask a mother who has given birth to a premature baby.

To realize the value of ONE WEEK

Ask an editor of a weekly newspaper.

To realize the value of ONE DAY

Ask a daily wage laborer who has ten kids to feed.

To realize the value of ONE HOUR

Ask those waiting for a loved one in surgery

To realize the value of ONE MINUTE

Ask the person who missed the train.

To realize the value of ONE SECOND

Ask a person who has survived an accident.

To realize the value of ONE MILLISECOND Ask the person who won a “silver” medal in the Olympics.

Take advantage of every moment and be a champion at whatever you aspire to do.

Is the Siyum HaShas the Antidote to Tisha B’Av?

If unity were easy, everyone would be practicing it. If it didn’t require compromise, concession or cooperation, it wouldn’t be such a big deal to call for unity. Unity, achdus, is difficult and challenging, and practicing it can sometimes feel lonely.

Our tradition states clearly that the main cause of God’s withdrawal from His Beis Ha’Mikdash and the source of the harsh exile we have suffered is the divisiveness and discord found among our people. For close to two thousand years, we have experienced pogroms, persecution, oppression, hatred, relentless anti-Semitism and a systematic attempt to exterminate our entire nation. Throughout those two millennia, we have been reminded over and over again that the main barrier and obstacle to finally ending all of our suffering and heralding a Messianic era characterized by peace and tranquility is simply our inability to learn how to get along and be respectful of one another.

Can we really blame Hashem for retreating from being around us, His children, when we can’t get along with one another Do we as parents not demand from our children that they practice loyalty towards one another, and be minimally respectful and accepting of each other, despite any differences they may have?

God Himself provided us with the tool that is to be the solution. Torah was given as a great unifier, a vision and set of values that we can all rally behind and embrace as one united community. We, as a nation of 2 to 3 million, received the Torah ‘k’ish echad b’leiv echad,’ as one person with one heart.

We recite in birchas ha’Torah “asher bachar banu mi’kol ha’amim, v’nasan lanu es Toraso, God chose us from among all the nations and gave us His Torah.” Becoming a nation and feeling a sense of peoplehood and community preceded receiving the Torah and, indeed, was a prerequisite to it. Authentic and genuine Torah in our time must be learned, observed and practiced with a deep sense of commitment to the wholeness, unity, health and well being of our people.

Therefore, it is a great comfort that as we mournfully count down the remaining few hours to Tisha B’av, we can eagerly anticipate a monumental milestone event that will follow it closely, namely the Siyum Ha’Shas. Ninety thousand men, women and children will fill Met Life Stadium in New York and hundreds of thousands more will join via internet to celebrate around the world in a great display of kavod ha’Torah, respect and honor for our sacred tradition as Shas, the six orders of Talmud, is completed.

Before Shabbos Nachamu, the Shabbos of consolation even arrives, the Siyum Ha’Shas should be just the soothing salve we need to heal the wounds and aches of Tisha B’av. As my friend and colleague, Rabbi Shalom Baum, pointed out to me, on Tisha B’av we will sit on the floor mourning the public burning of hundreds of volumes of the Talmud in France and Italy centuries ago. Just a few days later, we will affirm the vibrancy, vitality and relevancy of that same Talmud at the completion of its study in a similarly very public manner.

There is so much to celebrate and take pride in regarding the Siyum Ha’Shas. Jews of varied backgrounds, levels of observance and world outlook will attend the siyum together. Diverse Roshei Yeshiva and Talmidei Chachamim will sit on the dais, and a video that includes OU (Orthodox Union) Rabbis Steven Weil and Moshe Elefant will be shown. Thousands will gain entry into the exclusive club of “shas yidden,” those who have completed every single folio page of Talmud. Thousands more will be finishing shas for a second or third time, and yet thousands more will begin the marathon of the next seven and a half year journey through the sea of Talmud.

To be sure, there are wonderful stories and profiles surrounding the Siyum Ha’Shas. But sadly, other stories are emerging that, rather than reflect the spirit of unity and togetherness that we desperately need, tell the continued tale of the divisiveness and conflict that caused Tisha B’av to begin with. A prominent Chassidishe Rebbe has forbidden his flock from attending the siyum at MetLife since Zionist Rabbis, such as former Chief Rabbi of Israel, Rabbi Yisrael Meir Lau, will address the audience.

Admirably, a mechitza that costs six figures is being built for this three hour event to make sure that all segments of the Torah community feel comfortable attending. But, in contrast, how much energy and how many resources have been allocated to market and explain this monumental event to the unaffiliated and to help the uninitiated feel invited and welcome as well?

In addition, an alternative “Modern Orthodox” Siyum Ha’Shas has been arranged, and its organizers claim it will reflect a different perspective and approach than the one at Met Life Stadium. Like a lightning rod, this alternative Siyum has attracted immediate controversy, so much so that two prominent speakers who were to address the alternative Siyum have withdrawn from the program.

As we approach the Siyum Ha’Shas, the Torah community has much to be proud of. Deep appreciation and gratitude must be expressed to Agudas Yisroel and their leadership who have worked tirelessly to organize an incredible event that in so many ways is a great Kiddush Hashem. My words are not intended in any way as an indictment against them, God forbid.

But, I believe that if we really long for the geulah, the redemption, and yearn for the Messianic era, the entire width and breadth of the Torah community must ask ourselves – do the values of community, people hood and the unity of Torah not supersede our personal sensitivities and interests? Many may feel: “The program is not designed specifically the way I would want it and it doesn’t include exactly the speakers I would prefer. Attending and supporting it would take compromise and concession on my part.” My response is simple – doesn’t creating unity among diverse people always require conciliation, and isn’t it well worth it?

The Mishna in Pirkei Avos states, “Rabbi Chanina ben Tradyon omeir, shnayim she’yoshvim v’ein beineihem divrei Torah, harei zeh moshav leitzim, if two sit together and there are no words of Torah between them, it is a session of scorners.” Rav Chaim Yaakov Goldvicht z’l, my revered Rosh Yeshiva at Kerem B’Yavneh, explained this Mishna in a creative fashion. The two people the Mishna describes are chavrusos, study partners. They are engaged in Torah learning. So how can it be described as a moshav leitzim, a session of scorners? Rav Goldvicht explained because for these two people, the Torah is not beineihem, it doesn’t bring them together and unify them. Yes, they are learning Torah, but the Torah is not transforming them into more thoughtful, caring people connected to one another.

Rav Meir Shapiro z’l introduced the idea of Daf Yomi so that all Jews, no matter where they are found in the world, would literally be on the same page. Celebration of the Daf in particular, and commitment to Torah in general should bring us together in a united fashion and help put us on the same page, not divide us, God forbid.

As we approach yet another Tisha B’av and bemoan the Jewish condition in the world, let’s pledge to improve ourselves by doing more to care for our fellow Jews. Unity doesn’t come easy. It takes work and it usually requires compromise.

May the Siyum Ha’Shas not only inspire us to learn more and, for those who can, strive to commit to go through the entire shas, But, even more importantly, let us strive to have shas go through us and bring about the unity for our people that is the necessary prerequisite for bringing Moshiach.

Is the Glass of Redemption Half Full or Half Empty?

Last week, an Israeli Rabbi wrote an article in a weekend magazine wondering out loud why we still observe the fast of the 17^th of Tammuz. After all, we have recovered Jewish sovereignty over the land of Israel, we have a thriving State of Israel, and more people are learning Torah in Israel than ever before. So why are we fasting, why are we mourning, what are we commemorating? This Rabbi found his questions so compelling that he concluded that indeed, we should no longer be fasting as the redemption is upon us. We intuitively know he is wrong, but why?

As I spent the 17^th of Tammuz in Israel, I too was bothered by similar questions. The Prophets description of Yerushalayim as desolate, barren and in ruins, is no longer accurate. We are meriting seeing with our own eyes Yerushalayim and the Land of Israel blossoming, blooming, developing and growing in ways that were unimaginable just a short time ago. Why then are we fasting, mourning, not shaving, listening to music or rejoicing? Why are the practices of the 3 weeks and the fasts of the 17^th of Tammuz and the 9^th of Av still relevant and how do we find meaning in them given the contemporary circumstances in Israel?

I suggest to you that to feel the pain of this period and the agony of an incomplete redemption, one need do nothing more than open the newspaper or follow Israel in the news. Just a few examples from the past few weeks alone to help give meaning to our mourning:

Fifty Metro-North subway stations in NY have just received new ads including an accusation that Israel has been systematically taking Palestinian territory. The ad refers to 4.7 million Palestinians as refugees. The Anti-Defamation League has called the ads “Deliberately misleading, biased and fundamentally anti-Israel.”

A global counter terrorism forum initiated by the US was held this week in Spain. Twenty-nine countries that have suffered from terrorism and are committed to fight against it participated. Noticeably absent, due to a lack of invitation, was a country that has suffered more terrorism than any other and that knows how to fight it better than any other – Israel. Most analysts have concluded that this snub was intentional and was necessary to get other Arab countries to participate.

Iran defiantly tested ballistic missiles including of the long-range variety that can travel 2,000 kilometers and easily hit Israel and parts of Europe. Senior Iranian leaders accompanied those tests with the most threatening remarks directed against Israel to date.

Israel continues to be the victim of a campaign to isolate and delegitimize her. One of the most heinous and hurtful accusations often hurled against Israel is that she is guilty of apartheid and no different than the former South Africa that discriminated against blacks. Rabbi Dr. Danny Gordis has already pointed out that this claim is absurd, ridiculous and offensive. “In apartheid South Africa, were there blacks on the Supreme Court? (Justice Salim Joubran, an Arab, serves on Israel’s highest bench; nor is he the first to do so.) In apartheid South Africa, were there recognized black parties in the parliament, legally pressing for their rights? The list could go on, almostendlessly.”

This week I was shopping with my brother in a supermarket near his home in Alon Shvut, which is located over the “Green Line” in the “West Bank.” Throughout the store, one could easily notice the many Arabs shopping. My brother pointed out to me that these are not Israeli Arabs, but they are Palestinians who are openly welcome to shop freely in this store and the others in the Gush Etzion neighborhood. Perhaps the only apartheid being practiced is the lack of ability of a Jew to equally shop freely in a Palestinian store in the same area without risking his or her life.

My daughter and I were at the Kotel this week when suddenly we heard several loud pops that sounded like gunfire. Silence overcame the Kotel plaza for a few moments while everyone looked up to see what was happening. It turns out that someone in the Arab quarter lit a few firecrackers and no danger was posed at all. Despite the benign nature of the noise, my daughter was scared and wanted to leave. I wonder if we heard the same sound while walking on Montoya Circle if we would have felt the same anxiousness or if my daughter would have wanted to leave. The constant state of worry and unease we have been forced to live with, even at our holiest and most sacred locations, where we should be consumed exclusively with spiritual pursuits, is itself a tragedy and worthy of our mourning.

Yes, if you walk around Israel with your eyes even partially opened you cannot help but feel the beginning of the redemption is upon us. And yet, if you read the news with your eyes even partially open you cannot help but recognize how incomplete and partial that redemption is, and how far we still must go to experience it fully.

The destruction we mourn until this date is the result of Hashem withdrawing his intense countenance from our midst. He did so because we misbehaved in our attitude towards one another. But, he did so also because we failed to appreciate the divine gifts He bestowed upon us and we took for granted what it means to be protected by His presence.

The Prophet Yirmiyahu bemoans, “Tziyon hi, doreish ein lah, no one searches out Zion, she is forgotten.” Taking an interest in Israel, identifying with her people, her problems and her destiny is not only part of what it means to be a Jew, it is part of what it will take to bring the Geulah and rebuild the Beis Ha’Mikdash.

Two Remarkable Graduations

Greetings from the Holy Land.

When it comes to the State of Israel, there is never a shortage of things to worry about. It seems that since its birth just a few years ago, Israel remains in a state of perpetual crisis due to enemies from the outside, and tragically sometimes from the inside. In America, we tend to focus on the existential threat posed by Iran and its maniacal leaders. We raise awareness, lobby our elected officials to take a firm stand, and most significantly, daven that Iran not be allowed to realize its stated goal of wiping Israel off the map.

Remarkably, in Israel, one hardly hears about, reads about, or talks about Iran. Instead, conversations everywhere from taxis, Shabbos tables, and op-eds in newspapers all focus on the Tal Law revisions and the question of Chareidim and Israeli Arabs serving in the IDF. As one can imagine, the emotions run high when discussing this issue. If a significant and satisfactory compromise is not found, a further rupture and widened divide will likely result between the religious and irreligious in Israel. The chasm and hatred that will result may be as real and dangerous a threat as Iran.

Yet, with all the challenges, crisis and threats, the overwhelming truth is that Israel is thriving in extraordinary ways. Every visit back to our blessed homeland, I see incredible building, progress and innovation. Perhaps this thriving can best be measured by one particular piece of data. I recently learned that amazingly, Israel has the highest fertility rate among Western countries (those included in the OECD) with an average of 2.96 children per household, significantly higher than the average of 1.74. You may think that this number is skewed by the large Chareidi families, but further analysis of the data shows that Chilonim, non-religious Jews in Israel, also have considerably larger families than the average.

Throughout history, the fertility rate is a good measure of how much happiness, meaning and faith people have. We only bring children into a world that we think will be good for them and to them. The high fertility rate in Israel is a true testimony to the faith, tenacity, resolve and resiliency of our people and represents their collective affirmation that Israel is here to stay and the best is yet to come for our people.

Last week I attended the Kindergarten graduation of my nephew Shlomo in Modiin where my sister and her family live. Thirty five children and their families packed into a small room that due to a poorly timed power failure lacked air conditioning and lights. Under normal circumstances I wouldn’t have been able to tolerate the intense heat and claustrophobic feeling of being in a dark space with lots of people. But as I watched these beautiful children with their Israeli accents sing their songs, dance their dances and wave their flags, I didn’t feel the sweat running down my back. Instead, I felt the goose bumps of excitement at watching the future of the State of Israel and the fulfillment of thousands of years of dreams and prophecies coming true.

A week before I arrived, another nephew of mine, Shmuel, had his third grade graduation ceremony, an Israeli tradition. My brother and his family live in Alon Shvut which is part of Gush Etzion. Gush is filled with great biblical and historical significance. Avraham and Yitzchak walked through on their way to the Akeidah. Ruth gathered crops from the fields of Beit Lechem. Dovid Ha’Melech watched his father’s sheep on her hills and went on to proclaim his kingdom there.

After thousands of years, in 1927 Jews tried to settle the area once more, but the conditions were too harsh. A second attempt to settle Gush was made by Shmuel Holtzman in 1935. Arabs drove the pioneers out and the settlement was unsuccessful. In 1943, a third attempt was made, this time successfully with a group of four communities being founded. However, in the War of Independence in 1948, all four settlements were totally destroyed. 240 men and women were murdered, with another 260 taken into captivity.

After 1948, the children of those parents who tragically fell and those who survived longed to return to Gush Etzion. After 19 years banished from their homes, the miracle of the Six Day War brought about a fourth opportunity to settle Gush Etzion and for these families to return, this time permanently, please God.

With this history in mind, my nephew’s third grade graduation was remarkable not only because of where it was being held, but because of how many third graders graduated. Shmuel was one of 220 third graders from 10 third grade classes from the small area of Gush Etzion alone.

We must be cautious, wary and concerned about our enemies both from without and within. But, with all the fear and unease, let’s never forget to feel gratitude for the incredible blessing and redemption we are living through. How fortunate we are to merit living at this time and how great is our obligation to not take the land of Israel or the State of Israel for granted for even one second.

How to Get the Most out of Vacation

Last Shabbos, I began my sermon by quoting noted Psychiatrist Dr. Daniel Amen’s 18-40-60 rule. He says when you are 18, you worry about what everyone is thinking about you. When you are 40, you could care less what everyone thinks about you. And then you turn 60 and you realize that all along, nobody was thinking about you.

Well, perhaps that rule doesn’t apply to Rabbis. This past week alone I have heard of three separate rumors regarding my family and me. Firstly, I heard that I accepted a job in Washington D.C. and will be announcing it shortly. False. I love my job and have no interest in any other. Secondly, I attended an ORB meeting that began by my colleagues asking me if the rumor that I am starting a new Kosher supervision is true. After laughing, I told them of course it is not. The most popular rumor going around is that I am leaving this week on a year Sabbatical to Israel. Not true. I am leaving for my annual summer vacation and I will be back before you or I know it.

Each year, like so many of you, I eagerly look forward to my summer vacation. Used properly, a vacation is not only an opportunity to take a break from the rigors of work, but it provides tremendous learning and growing opportunities. In fact, it can be said that how we use our vacation and what we do in our down time not only reveals much about our priorities, but has a huge impact on our children as well.

Every day in Shema we recite “v’sheenantam levanecha v’dibarta bam,” teach your children and speak about Torah, “b’shivtecha b’veisecha u’velechtecha ba’derach,” when you are sitting at home and when you are traveling on the way. I once heard a very powerful interpretation. We certainly teach our children Torah through the words we say and the messages we articulate. But even more so, we teach them through our actions and behaviors b’shivtecha b’veisecha, what we do when we are at home, and b’lechtecha ba’derech, when we are out of our homes, traveling on the road, enjoying a vacation.

When we are on vacation with our families, do they still see us davening three times a day and making every effort to attend minyan? Do they see us making time to learn, study and read? Are we able to truly disconnect and spend quality time with those that we love in meaningful, memorable ways?

The summer is not only a time for us as adults to rejuvenate, revitalize and refresh. The break represents an amazing, often neglected opportunity for our children to grow as well. In fact, I would humbly submit to you that the 2 months in between school is as important and significant in molding and shaping a child as the 10 months they attend school.

For ten months a year, children that attend Yeshiva Day School are well versed and familiar with the weekly parsha from school. Do we make sure that they study the parshios that fall between June and August as well? For ten months a year, our children begin each day by Davening to Hashem. Do we make sure that they realize that davening is part of a Jew’s daily routine, whether they are in school, working, or on vacation? For ten months of the year, many children wear uniforms that reinforce the value of modesty. In the two months that they are off, are we vigilant to make sure that their choice of clothing and dress sends the right message?

For ten months of the year, our children are stimulated intellectually and challenged academically to think, read and study. For the two months that they are off from school, do we allow them to be off from thinking and growing intellectually as well or do we challenge them to read for fun, explore their interests and expand their minds? The down time and ability to have fun and be kids is critical to their development. But, it doesn’t mean we should be indifferent to our kids spending their summer playing video games and watching tv and movies.

As I head off on my summer vacation, not Sabbatical, I want to wish all of you a healthy, happy, safe and super productive summer.

How do You Define Quality of Life?

He was a complete stranger when I sat down, but after a three and a half hour delay, I had made a new friend. My flight to NY to attend what would be the magnificent Tirschwell wedding was delayed significantly and so I found myself a comfortable seat to settle into for a few hours. The elderly gentleman sitting next to me bemoaned our unexpected wait and we proceeded to exchange pleasantries for a few moments. It turns out he lives in Boca too and while he had a more traditional upbringing, he confessed that he hasn’t been to “Temple” for many years.

I took out my laptop and my cell phone and began to use the newfound time to get some work done. A significant amount of time had passed in which I returned emails, made phone calls and spent some time learning. All the while, my new friend stared at his iPad. When I inquired what he was doing he told me he was watching his stocks. For three straight hours, he literally stared at the screen and watched his stocks go up a few cents, down a few cents. He didn’t read a book or newspaper, talk to family on his cell, or even watch a movie. He just stared at his portfolio endlessly.

As I observed my new friend and his singular activity, I couldn’t stop thinking of an expression that dominated two difficult conversations that I had this week – “quality of life.” The culture of medicine has shifted radically of late, particularly in end of life situations. Two separate individuals struggling with their health, heard the same thing from their doctors independently. Their physicians, who had taken the Hippocratic Oath which includes a pledge to never do harm to one’s patients, did just that through their biased judgment and slanted statements.

Both men were told almost the identical thing by their Doctors. Both Physicians refused to perform minor procedures to heal their patients claiming it was unkind to extend the lives of people with such little “quality of life.” One Doctor actually told his patient, “you can no longer care for yourself and you can’t do anything meaningful. Just accept the fact that you are dying.” Not surprisingly, these words have had a horrific impact on this person and his attitude towards recovery.

Unquestionably, Jewish law takes the concept of quality of life into account in sophisticated end of life dilemmas like DNR orders, etc. A patient or their family may decide to forgo heroic or life saving measures if they determine that quality of life will not be restored should they experience cardiac arrest or another life ending incident.

However, Jewish law leaves the determination of what is quality of life to the patient and their family. Halacha values every single moment of life and each and every breath is considered precious no matter the level of cognition or function. Jewish law mandates doing everything in our power to sustain a person and keep them alive, assuming that is their wish. That is why having a Halachic Living Will or Health Care Proxy is so critical. To violate the patient’s wishes and withhold care that could lengthen their life is tantamount to a form of murder.

The approach and insensitive words of these two doctors was egregious, harmful, irresponsible and inexcusable. In the end, both were persuaded to follow the family’s orders and carry out the procedures. But the damage done through their earlier statements is irreparable. Not only are the patients themselves disheartened, despondent and pessimistic about their future, the families of these individuals feel like they have been punched in the gut. Of course they understand the poor prognosis of their loved ones and are realistic about their diagnosis. But while they once saw the Doctors as being their greatest source of support and hope, they now view them as adversaries in the fight to keep their loved ones alive.

As I sat next to my new friend in the airport having just spoken to these two families, I was struck by our society’s approach to end of life issues and the distorted contemporary definition of quality of life. The elderly man sitting next to me, at least superficially, looked healthy. And yet, given his chosen activity for 3 hours straight, it seems to me he lacks a real quality of life. The two men I described are struggling with their health, and rely on lots of medicine, care and therapies. And yet, simply interacting with their wives, children and grandchildren, putting tefillin on and davening every day, makes them feel like their lives have great quality, despite what their physicians may say.

It is up to each and every one of us to determine and achieve quality in our lives. Meaning, purpose and worth can be found no matter our health or condition. Whether we are young or old, healthy or God forbid ill, working or retired, let’s fill our time in meaningful ways and use our energy now matter how great or how little to connect and bond with those we love, including Hashem.

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