I don’t know about you, but I sometimes find myself so caught up in my own perspective that I just need someone to come along and look me in the eye and tell me, “Snap out of it!” Well, enter the chag of Sukkot. Sukkot is all about taking a step back and looking at things from a new perspective.
Come on, leave your comfort zone, and step out to look at life from a new angle. It might not be comfortable, and there might be mosquitos or bees or rain or wind. But let’s get some new perspective on life. Why? Because the result is happiness, as Sukkot is called “zman simchateinu,” the time of our happiness.
Which is why one might find it ironic that during this time of happiness, Sukkot, we read what seems to be the most depressing sefer in all of Torah: Kohelet. But the message of Kohelet is the same message of Sukkot: Take a step back, get some perspective, and figure out what is really important in life. Life that is “tachat hashemesh,” that is under the sun, part of the physical world, is only about the moment. Things in the physical world come and go. Sure, pyshical pleasures, such as a nice delicious meal is good at the time, but life moves on. It is only “tachat hashamayim” under the shamayim, where there is Yirat Shamayim, where there is purpose that lasts forever. Of course you should enjoy the physical world right now, but realize that like the sun which rises and sets, it comes and goes. Focus on the things that last forever.
Another thing that Sukkot makes me think about is what I wrote here about trusting in Hashem and not in physical buildings. There was one day during the Chag when the wind was so strong and our Sukkah started swaying and I was afraid it would fall down, but it didn’t. It was not only because the Sukkah itself was strong, but because Hashem was protecting us.
When we step out of our comfort zone, it is not always so pleasant. We might discover things we don’t want to know, like that maybe we are wrong. Maybe we have been looking at things the wrong way. Maybe we are not who we think we are, maybe we need to change. But once we see things with new eyes, we have the ability to go forward and not just stay stuck where we are. We can take charge of our life and shift our priorities. Realize what is truly important and what is not quite as important.
Happiness is about changing perspective and looking at things differently. It is not always easy, and in fact, mostly it is not easy, and we have to work to get there.
May we all use this Chag HaSukkot, Zman Simchateinu, to discover a new perspective on our lives, one that will give us clarity, and give us the vision that we need to move forward in the right direction. May we take this chance to re-evaluate our priorities in life. And may this newfound perspective lead us to true happiness.
_
Showing posts with label Holidays. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Holidays. Show all posts
Sunday, October 16, 2011
Wednesday, September 28, 2011
Finding a Relatable Mashal for Rosh Hashana
When I was trying to think of what to write about for this post about Rosh Hashana, I figured I would start by looking at what I wrote on this blog last year (see here), so I could be sure not to repeat myself. That gave me a good laugh, because I saw that I wrote, “I always start by looking at the past year. Where was I last Rosh Hashana?” And, here I am again, looking back at last year. I do this because I try to think about how it was I got from there to here. Did I get here because I was passive and let myself sail down the river wherever life takes me, or did I row upstream and try hard to get here? It’s a little bit of both. Last year I wrote about how I look at the past and look at the future, and how I try to balance between feeling guilt and regret, and feeling hopeful and inspired.
This year, my thoughts are in a completely different place. Mostly I am in a very different place than I was last year- my life has changed so much in the past year, in very good ways. All the changes I talked about and hoped for at the beginning of the summer managed to work themselves out. Things in my life are busier now, which ironically has meant I have had less to write about. Somehow when things were slower and life was more boring I had so much to write about.
One thought I had about Rosh Hashana, is that in listening/reading to shiurim and other thoughts related to Rosh Hashana, I found all the parables being used to be completely un-relatable. Most of them are about Kings ruling a Kingdom and judgment. Sure, I understand what that means in theory, but it doesn’t relate practically to my life. Same thing with scales- I understand what a scale is, but the only kind of scale I use in my life is the one I hop on to see how much I weigh- not one of those scales in the classic Elul picture which looks more like a seesaw. Now, a seesaw I could relate to. But what about a King? How can I make the theme of Rosh Hashana, which is the idea of “Hashem Melech,” that Hashem is King and rules over my life, something that I understand not only in theory, but practically?
Since I have been in the working world, the thing that pops most into my mind is a CEO of a company or a President of a company. They have many employees and the job of every employee is to work for the CEO. At the end of the day, even if he or she is not your boss directly, he or she is your boss’s boss’s boss’s boss, and the bottom line is that you report to them. I’d like to share one of my experiences with you.
In one place that I worked, we had evaluations. This is a great Mashal for Rosh Hashana. It was not with the CEO, it was with your supervisor, but the CEO reviewed all of the forms. I was given a piece of paper with a bunch of different categories and I had to rate myself on a scale of 1 to 5 on how well I thought I was doing in each area. Then I had a meeting with my boss, who went over each of the criteria and gave me a rating in each area. I was quite nervous for that meeting! I mean, what if my supervisor was about to tell me that I was doing an awful job? Taking criticism is not easy.
Luckily, overall, my meeting went very well. For most of the categories, my boss and I were on the same page in terms of how well we thought I was doing. Then there were the categories where my supervisor thought I rated myself too low, and that I was actually doing much better than that. I figured it was safe to stay on the modest side instead of saying, “I think I’m great at everything!” But then there were the few items on the list where I thought I was doing well and my supervisor gently informed me that in fact I needed to improve a little bit. That is never easy to hear, but I gulped, nodded, and accepted what was said, knowing it was right (in the case where I disagreed I did speak up to defend myself.)
The interesting thing about employee evaluations is that looking around at other employees there was one factor that stood out to me as to which employees were better at what they were doing, and that factor is: How dedicated, committed, and passionate are they about the mission of the company? Everyone has a different job to do, and those who are there just to do their job and don’t care about where the company is going as a whole aren’t as good at what they do as those who are mission driven.
The same is true for us on Rosh Hashana. The reason Rosh Hashana is so critical is because we take a chance to say: Who are we working for? What is the point of everything that we do? Sure, we can go about the motions of doing Mitzvot, but if we don’t have this sense of WHY we are doing what we are doing, then it is so easy to slack off. Rosh Hashana is our wake up call to remind us that our mission in this world is to serve G-d.
Wishing you all a meaningful Rosh Hashana, a Shana Tova, and a Ketiva V’Chatima Tova! May we all be written in the book of life, and may this year be one of health and happiness for all, one in which all of our prayers be answered for the good.
__
This year, my thoughts are in a completely different place. Mostly I am in a very different place than I was last year- my life has changed so much in the past year, in very good ways. All the changes I talked about and hoped for at the beginning of the summer managed to work themselves out. Things in my life are busier now, which ironically has meant I have had less to write about. Somehow when things were slower and life was more boring I had so much to write about.
One thought I had about Rosh Hashana, is that in listening/reading to shiurim and other thoughts related to Rosh Hashana, I found all the parables being used to be completely un-relatable. Most of them are about Kings ruling a Kingdom and judgment. Sure, I understand what that means in theory, but it doesn’t relate practically to my life. Same thing with scales- I understand what a scale is, but the only kind of scale I use in my life is the one I hop on to see how much I weigh- not one of those scales in the classic Elul picture which looks more like a seesaw. Now, a seesaw I could relate to. But what about a King? How can I make the theme of Rosh Hashana, which is the idea of “Hashem Melech,” that Hashem is King and rules over my life, something that I understand not only in theory, but practically?
Since I have been in the working world, the thing that pops most into my mind is a CEO of a company or a President of a company. They have many employees and the job of every employee is to work for the CEO. At the end of the day, even if he or she is not your boss directly, he or she is your boss’s boss’s boss’s boss, and the bottom line is that you report to them. I’d like to share one of my experiences with you.
In one place that I worked, we had evaluations. This is a great Mashal for Rosh Hashana. It was not with the CEO, it was with your supervisor, but the CEO reviewed all of the forms. I was given a piece of paper with a bunch of different categories and I had to rate myself on a scale of 1 to 5 on how well I thought I was doing in each area. Then I had a meeting with my boss, who went over each of the criteria and gave me a rating in each area. I was quite nervous for that meeting! I mean, what if my supervisor was about to tell me that I was doing an awful job? Taking criticism is not easy.
Luckily, overall, my meeting went very well. For most of the categories, my boss and I were on the same page in terms of how well we thought I was doing. Then there were the categories where my supervisor thought I rated myself too low, and that I was actually doing much better than that. I figured it was safe to stay on the modest side instead of saying, “I think I’m great at everything!” But then there were the few items on the list where I thought I was doing well and my supervisor gently informed me that in fact I needed to improve a little bit. That is never easy to hear, but I gulped, nodded, and accepted what was said, knowing it was right (in the case where I disagreed I did speak up to defend myself.)
The interesting thing about employee evaluations is that looking around at other employees there was one factor that stood out to me as to which employees were better at what they were doing, and that factor is: How dedicated, committed, and passionate are they about the mission of the company? Everyone has a different job to do, and those who are there just to do their job and don’t care about where the company is going as a whole aren’t as good at what they do as those who are mission driven.
The same is true for us on Rosh Hashana. The reason Rosh Hashana is so critical is because we take a chance to say: Who are we working for? What is the point of everything that we do? Sure, we can go about the motions of doing Mitzvot, but if we don’t have this sense of WHY we are doing what we are doing, then it is so easy to slack off. Rosh Hashana is our wake up call to remind us that our mission in this world is to serve G-d.
Wishing you all a meaningful Rosh Hashana, a Shana Tova, and a Ketiva V’Chatima Tova! May we all be written in the book of life, and may this year be one of health and happiness for all, one in which all of our prayers be answered for the good.
__
Monday, July 4, 2011
Fireworks
As I was enjoying myself, relaxing, watching the colorful fourth of July fireworks, my mind started to drift. I was thinking about how interesting it is that as long as one of our five senses is being entertained, the other sense can put up with a little bit of annoyance. Fireworks are so loud and they were really hurting my ears, yet I had a good time because I was so focused on the beautiful shiny colors. Then I started thinking, we can learn something from everything in the world. What could I learn from fireworks? What lesson could they teach me?
The first thing that came to mind was how fireworks contrast to stars. A firework is one big exciting flash of light, while stars are less flashy and don’t make you go “wow!” quite as much, but yet, fireworks last for just a few seconds, and then they are gone, while stars shine every single night. Sometimes we think serving G-d is all about this one big, crazy, super, duper, awesome moment that we throw all of our energy into, but life is about shining every single night, just a little. It’s not about the one time unusual acts that we do, but about the day in and the day out.
I was sharing this idea with someone in my family who added this nice thought: Fireworks are awesome and really capture your attention, but even after 20 minutes, it starts to get boring. It’s true- I started to glance down at my watch and was ready for it to be over already. We want life to be full of these exciting moments, inspiring moments, all the time, but the truth is that even excitement gets dull. Inspiration fades, we get used to things quickly- no matter how big, bright, shiny, and loud they are. The key is to see the same old things in our lives as new every day.
_
Monday, June 6, 2011
Shavuos: Thoughts on Accepting the Torah
When we are little kids, we kind of just do what our parents and teachers tell us to do, but once we get older we start to think about things more. For many of us who grew up FFB (Frum from birth) keeping Torah seems natural, as though “Of course I will keep Torah, what else would I do?” But the truth is that keeping Torah is a choice, and even when it is not a choice, how we choose to keep Torah is a choice.
We love to hear stories of Baalei Teshuva (BTs), because it inspires us that someone who didn’t keep Torah would change their life around to keep Torah, but really all of us should have our own story. Perhaps it is not as dramatic, and perhaps not as big of a visible change, but we all should change. I suppose the fact that I grew up with parents who are BTs and mostly non-religious relatives, and having various interactions with non-Jews as a child made me question earlier since I saw that there was an alternative to leading an Orthodox Jewish life. I remember asking my father as a child how we know that Judaism is correct, since after all, our Christian neighbors believed that their religion was correct. The funny thing is that I don’t remember his answer at all, but I remember thinking that he answered my question. It retrospect, I wonder what he said that hit the spot.
My personal acceptance of Torah began as I became a teenager, when I started to think about whether G-d exists or not. It continued when I decided I believed in G-d, and that I believed in Judaism, but I looked around and saw so many different flavors of Judaism and wondered why my family did certain things or didn’t do other things that other Jews did. Accepting Torah for me was the choice to be passionate about Torah and Mitzvot. Yes, I grew up keeping Shabbos, but did I grow up loving Shabbos? No, unfortunately I did not. My parents love Shabbos, but I as I kid I sometimes felt that it was a day that was about all of the things that I couldn’t do. Yes, I sat in shul, and flipped through the pages of the siddur, moving my lips, “davening.” But was I talking to G-d?
For those who did not grow up religious, Shavuos is a day to say once again to Hashem, “Look what I took on for you. I am accepting your Torah even though I did not grow up this way.” But for those of us who grew up keeping Mitzvot, it is a chance to say, “Hashem, I accept your Torah. Even though I am used to keeping Mitzvot out of habit, I am not just keeping Torah because my parents told me to. I accept Torah on myself.”
Each person is unique and each person has to accept Torah in their own unique way. We say in Shema “Bichol Miodecha,” that we love Hashem with everything that we personally consider “Miod” “Very” – the things that are most dear to us. I accept Torah and Mitzvot upon myself, because Hashem created me and that is what He created me to do and asks from me to do. But I also accept Torah because I love doing Mitzvot and I love the Torah.
Wishing everyone a meaningful and spiritually uplifting Shavuos and a Chag Sameach/ Gut Yuntif!
______
We love to hear stories of Baalei Teshuva (BTs), because it inspires us that someone who didn’t keep Torah would change their life around to keep Torah, but really all of us should have our own story. Perhaps it is not as dramatic, and perhaps not as big of a visible change, but we all should change. I suppose the fact that I grew up with parents who are BTs and mostly non-religious relatives, and having various interactions with non-Jews as a child made me question earlier since I saw that there was an alternative to leading an Orthodox Jewish life. I remember asking my father as a child how we know that Judaism is correct, since after all, our Christian neighbors believed that their religion was correct. The funny thing is that I don’t remember his answer at all, but I remember thinking that he answered my question. It retrospect, I wonder what he said that hit the spot.
My personal acceptance of Torah began as I became a teenager, when I started to think about whether G-d exists or not. It continued when I decided I believed in G-d, and that I believed in Judaism, but I looked around and saw so many different flavors of Judaism and wondered why my family did certain things or didn’t do other things that other Jews did. Accepting Torah for me was the choice to be passionate about Torah and Mitzvot. Yes, I grew up keeping Shabbos, but did I grow up loving Shabbos? No, unfortunately I did not. My parents love Shabbos, but I as I kid I sometimes felt that it was a day that was about all of the things that I couldn’t do. Yes, I sat in shul, and flipped through the pages of the siddur, moving my lips, “davening.” But was I talking to G-d?
For those who did not grow up religious, Shavuos is a day to say once again to Hashem, “Look what I took on for you. I am accepting your Torah even though I did not grow up this way.” But for those of us who grew up keeping Mitzvot, it is a chance to say, “Hashem, I accept your Torah. Even though I am used to keeping Mitzvot out of habit, I am not just keeping Torah because my parents told me to. I accept Torah on myself.”
Each person is unique and each person has to accept Torah in their own unique way. We say in Shema “Bichol Miodecha,” that we love Hashem with everything that we personally consider “Miod” “Very” – the things that are most dear to us. I accept Torah and Mitzvot upon myself, because Hashem created me and that is what He created me to do and asks from me to do. But I also accept Torah because I love doing Mitzvot and I love the Torah.
Wishing everyone a meaningful and spiritually uplifting Shavuos and a Chag Sameach/ Gut Yuntif!
______
Monday, May 9, 2011
Israel and Yom HaAtzmaut
The first time I visited Israel, I was disappointed. I was disappointed because I did not feel a connection to Israel at all. I had learned about Eretz Yisrael in school, seen pictures of it, heard stories of it, and I knew it was an important place. So I thought that when I got there I would feel like I was in some place special, spiritual, holy. I tried so hard to feel the holiness when I was there, but I left feeling guilty. Guilty that I should be falling in love with our holy land, the land with so much historical significance, so much religious significance, but I did not feel connected.
My second trip to Israel was a similar story. By that point I was in high school and I was sure that things would be different because I was older. But it was the same story. I tried even harder the second time around to feel connected, to fall in love with Israel, but I had to face the fact that while both times I greatly enjoyed my trips, I did not experience the "WOW" feeling that everyone else I knew experienced. While everyone I knew would rant about how great Israel was, and would long to go back, I just sat there silently. Though I thought I was the only one feeling this disconnect, there were others who felt this way, and one such person felt brave enough to ask this question in an "ask the Rabbi" session I was at. My ears perked up as soon as she asked the question.
The Rabbi responded that there are different types of pleasures in life. Some types of pleasures we experience immediately, such as tasting good food, or smelling a pleasant smell. Others take a little bit of time to experience, such as a friendship or relationship. At the beginning of a relationship you don't feel connected to the person because you don't have shared experience and you haven't built the relationship yet. But picture a long lasting friendship or marriage that has lasted 20 or 30 years. The type of pleasure that a person receives from such a relationship is much deeper than the pleasure one gets from eating a piece of cake. The same is true for Eretz Yisrael.
Visiting Israel is not like visiting other countries. You can't just go and expect to automatically be connected. It is a relationship that you have to build, one that develops over time. But once it is developed, it is deeper than other connections. This answer really hit home for me, and that is why I share it with you today. I was fortunate enough to experience this deep connection first hand during the year I spent in Seminary in Israel.
I recall the first times I went to the Kotel, before my year in Israel, standing there repeating in my head, "This is where the Beit HaMikdash stood" over and over, trying to get it through my head that this was not just some random wall of stones. Perhaps the fact that it was crowded and that there were women pushing me, was unhelpful to my attempt to concentrate, but I couldn't feel anything. I was not overwhelmed or emotional, I just was. Contrast that to experience I had after a few months in Israel, after going to the Kotel many times. I can picture myself standing at the Kotel, closing my eyes, breathing in the fresh air, listening to the mumbles all around me, until emotion floods me and I pour my heart out to Hashem. To this day, the best Tefillah that I ever davened (aside from perhaps Rosh Hashana/Yom Kippur davening) was there at the Kotel.
Despite my initial indifference, or perhaps because of it, I can now say that I feel a strong connection to Israel and that I love Israel. It is a deep part of me and a place that is always in my thoughts. My davening is different because of it, especially the parts of davening that mention Israel, and specifically the bracha V'Lirushalayim Ircha in Shemoneh Esrei. I love the hills, the flowers, the sky, the streets, the homes.
I love Eretz Yisrael, our holy land, given to the Jewish people by G-d. I feel that it is easier to feel Hashem’s presence in Israel. I love the spiritual, religious, experience I have there, and I love modern day Israel. I love how today Israel is a homeland where all Jews have the right to be. I love how the entire country celebrates the Jewish Holidays, as opposed to how in the United States celebrating chagim feels strange, separating us out from the mindset of the rest of the country. I love that after centuries Jews can live in the place where we belong, that we have returned after a long exile.
Tonight and tomorrow we celebrate Yom HaAtzmaut, celebrating the fact that we, the Jewish people, have returned to our homeland. And while we ultimately await the coming of Mashiach and the rebuilding of the Beit Hamikdash, we thank Hashem for the numerous miracles that He has performed to give us this wonderful gift, of Eretz Yisrael.
Every day we praise Hashem and thank Him for the wonderful pleasures of this world, the ones that we experience every day- food, clothing, shelter. Tonight and tomorrow is a time for us to thank Hashem for giving us a place where we can join together and unite, and for a place where we are able to connect to Hashem, more than any place in the world. Even though it may take time, once we get there, it is worth the effort.
May this gift from Hashem of Eretz Yisrael, which we received again in 1948, be followed by the bracha of peace throughout the world and particularly in Eretz Yisrael. May this be the beginning of the final of redemption, and may the Beit Hamikdash be rebuilt very soon with the coming of Mashiach, to bring us to the days when all Jews will gather from the four corners of the world and unite in the holy land that Hashem gave to us, Israel.
___
My second trip to Israel was a similar story. By that point I was in high school and I was sure that things would be different because I was older. But it was the same story. I tried even harder the second time around to feel connected, to fall in love with Israel, but I had to face the fact that while both times I greatly enjoyed my trips, I did not experience the "WOW" feeling that everyone else I knew experienced. While everyone I knew would rant about how great Israel was, and would long to go back, I just sat there silently. Though I thought I was the only one feeling this disconnect, there were others who felt this way, and one such person felt brave enough to ask this question in an "ask the Rabbi" session I was at. My ears perked up as soon as she asked the question.
The Rabbi responded that there are different types of pleasures in life. Some types of pleasures we experience immediately, such as tasting good food, or smelling a pleasant smell. Others take a little bit of time to experience, such as a friendship or relationship. At the beginning of a relationship you don't feel connected to the person because you don't have shared experience and you haven't built the relationship yet. But picture a long lasting friendship or marriage that has lasted 20 or 30 years. The type of pleasure that a person receives from such a relationship is much deeper than the pleasure one gets from eating a piece of cake. The same is true for Eretz Yisrael.
Visiting Israel is not like visiting other countries. You can't just go and expect to automatically be connected. It is a relationship that you have to build, one that develops over time. But once it is developed, it is deeper than other connections. This answer really hit home for me, and that is why I share it with you today. I was fortunate enough to experience this deep connection first hand during the year I spent in Seminary in Israel.
I recall the first times I went to the Kotel, before my year in Israel, standing there repeating in my head, "This is where the Beit HaMikdash stood" over and over, trying to get it through my head that this was not just some random wall of stones. Perhaps the fact that it was crowded and that there were women pushing me, was unhelpful to my attempt to concentrate, but I couldn't feel anything. I was not overwhelmed or emotional, I just was. Contrast that to experience I had after a few months in Israel, after going to the Kotel many times. I can picture myself standing at the Kotel, closing my eyes, breathing in the fresh air, listening to the mumbles all around me, until emotion floods me and I pour my heart out to Hashem. To this day, the best Tefillah that I ever davened (aside from perhaps Rosh Hashana/Yom Kippur davening) was there at the Kotel.
Despite my initial indifference, or perhaps because of it, I can now say that I feel a strong connection to Israel and that I love Israel. It is a deep part of me and a place that is always in my thoughts. My davening is different because of it, especially the parts of davening that mention Israel, and specifically the bracha V'Lirushalayim Ircha in Shemoneh Esrei. I love the hills, the flowers, the sky, the streets, the homes.
I love Eretz Yisrael, our holy land, given to the Jewish people by G-d. I feel that it is easier to feel Hashem’s presence in Israel. I love the spiritual, religious, experience I have there, and I love modern day Israel. I love how today Israel is a homeland where all Jews have the right to be. I love how the entire country celebrates the Jewish Holidays, as opposed to how in the United States celebrating chagim feels strange, separating us out from the mindset of the rest of the country. I love that after centuries Jews can live in the place where we belong, that we have returned after a long exile.
Tonight and tomorrow we celebrate Yom HaAtzmaut, celebrating the fact that we, the Jewish people, have returned to our homeland. And while we ultimately await the coming of Mashiach and the rebuilding of the Beit Hamikdash, we thank Hashem for the numerous miracles that He has performed to give us this wonderful gift, of Eretz Yisrael.
Every day we praise Hashem and thank Him for the wonderful pleasures of this world, the ones that we experience every day- food, clothing, shelter. Tonight and tomorrow is a time for us to thank Hashem for giving us a place where we can join together and unite, and for a place where we are able to connect to Hashem, more than any place in the world. Even though it may take time, once we get there, it is worth the effort.
May this gift from Hashem of Eretz Yisrael, which we received again in 1948, be followed by the bracha of peace throughout the world and particularly in Eretz Yisrael. May this be the beginning of the final of redemption, and may the Beit Hamikdash be rebuilt very soon with the coming of Mashiach, to bring us to the days when all Jews will gather from the four corners of the world and unite in the holy land that Hashem gave to us, Israel.
___
Tuesday, May 3, 2011
Sefirat HaOmer
It is Sefirat HaOmer again, and like every year I can tell it is going by so fast that by the time it gets to Shavuos I realize I haven’t prepared at all. Like always around this time, the topic of loving fellow Jews is on my mind. Actually that topic is frequently on my mind, not just during Sefira, but I guess that is just how I was brought up. Neither of my parents grew up Orthodox, though both grew up with a strong connection to Judaism. Because of this, though I always attended religious schools, during my childhood I found myself in non-religious or even non-Jewish environments.
This exposure really strengthened my Judaism, because when you are 10 or 11 years old and a non-Jewish kid asks you, “What does Kosher mean?” you have know the answer and know what you’re talking about. When your Reform friend comes over for shabbos and asks you questions, you need to know why you do what you do, and when your Conservative relative brings you to their synagogue, then you learn why in your shul the men and women sit separately, while in her shul they sit together. In addition, my experiences made me sensitive to the attitudes of Jews towards one another, particularly the attitudes of Orthodox Jews towards the other denominations.
Being Orthodox means believing that all of Torah (Torah shebichtav and Torah shebaal peh) are from Hashem, and this means disagreeing with Reform, Conservative, Reconstructionist or other types of Jews, but disagreement does not mean that the Orthodox attitude should be anything less than “ViAhavta L’Rayacha Kamocha” towards them.
I write this because a friend recently told me a story which she prefaced as being a “funny story” that had been making the rounds. The story was about non-religious Jews who enter an Orthodox home where the family is sitting shiva. Not knowing the protocol of what to do, they notice people muttering statements to the mourners, but do not know what to say. So they approach the mourners and read the only sign they see visible, the one that lists the davening times. Apparently this is amusing, but I do not find it to be so. Since I heard this story after it had been passed through a whole chain of people, I can only hope that it has been altered and that the situation was not as bad as it sounds.
I give credit to the fact that from the report I heard no one laughed out loud, and no one informed them of their mistake in a way that would embarrass them. I also of course don’t blame the mourners, who are going through difficult times. What bothers me about the story is that there were other frum Jews in the room. Why did none of them notice a few clearly non-religious people standing around awkwardly looking for direction? Could no one have approached them and tried to explain what to do?
This is just a story, but many non-religious Jews feel that Orthodox Jews look down on them. They feel this way because many Orthodox Jews do look down on them. That pains me because the Torah attitude is not to judge others and if there is anyone who should excel at kindness in interpersonal relationships, at Mitzvot Bein Adam L’Chavero, it is those who keep Torah. Unfortunately that is not always the case. I had a teacher who said that when it comes to our relationships with people, we have to separate the Gavra and the Cheftza- the person and their actions. As frum Jews, may disagree with the actions of non-religious Jews- the fact that they do not keep shabbos or kashrus, but our attitude towards their actions does not need to be the same as our attitude towards them as people.
I don’t mean to lump all Orthodox Jews into this category, and in fact most of the Orthodox Jews I know are kind towards non-religious Jews, and I most often see religious Jews making a Kiddush Hashem with their outstanding behavior. During this time I think about how important it is to work on how we deal with other people. This skill is a different one than we are often used to working on in life. We grow up attending school, where the focus is on learning, on how much you know, on being smart, on intelligence, on getting good grades. A person can be brilliant or knowledge, a person can even know the halachos and know how to treat people right, but that does not translate into action. That is what we learn from Rabbi Akiva’s talmidim. No doubt that they were brilliant and knew a tremendous amount of Torah, more than we can fathom. But they did not treat each other right, and at the end of the day, that was important to Hashem.
___
This exposure really strengthened my Judaism, because when you are 10 or 11 years old and a non-Jewish kid asks you, “What does Kosher mean?” you have know the answer and know what you’re talking about. When your Reform friend comes over for shabbos and asks you questions, you need to know why you do what you do, and when your Conservative relative brings you to their synagogue, then you learn why in your shul the men and women sit separately, while in her shul they sit together. In addition, my experiences made me sensitive to the attitudes of Jews towards one another, particularly the attitudes of Orthodox Jews towards the other denominations.
Being Orthodox means believing that all of Torah (Torah shebichtav and Torah shebaal peh) are from Hashem, and this means disagreeing with Reform, Conservative, Reconstructionist or other types of Jews, but disagreement does not mean that the Orthodox attitude should be anything less than “ViAhavta L’Rayacha Kamocha” towards them.
I write this because a friend recently told me a story which she prefaced as being a “funny story” that had been making the rounds. The story was about non-religious Jews who enter an Orthodox home where the family is sitting shiva. Not knowing the protocol of what to do, they notice people muttering statements to the mourners, but do not know what to say. So they approach the mourners and read the only sign they see visible, the one that lists the davening times. Apparently this is amusing, but I do not find it to be so. Since I heard this story after it had been passed through a whole chain of people, I can only hope that it has been altered and that the situation was not as bad as it sounds.
I give credit to the fact that from the report I heard no one laughed out loud, and no one informed them of their mistake in a way that would embarrass them. I also of course don’t blame the mourners, who are going through difficult times. What bothers me about the story is that there were other frum Jews in the room. Why did none of them notice a few clearly non-religious people standing around awkwardly looking for direction? Could no one have approached them and tried to explain what to do?
This is just a story, but many non-religious Jews feel that Orthodox Jews look down on them. They feel this way because many Orthodox Jews do look down on them. That pains me because the Torah attitude is not to judge others and if there is anyone who should excel at kindness in interpersonal relationships, at Mitzvot Bein Adam L’Chavero, it is those who keep Torah. Unfortunately that is not always the case. I had a teacher who said that when it comes to our relationships with people, we have to separate the Gavra and the Cheftza- the person and their actions. As frum Jews, may disagree with the actions of non-religious Jews- the fact that they do not keep shabbos or kashrus, but our attitude towards their actions does not need to be the same as our attitude towards them as people.
I don’t mean to lump all Orthodox Jews into this category, and in fact most of the Orthodox Jews I know are kind towards non-religious Jews, and I most often see religious Jews making a Kiddush Hashem with their outstanding behavior. During this time I think about how important it is to work on how we deal with other people. This skill is a different one than we are often used to working on in life. We grow up attending school, where the focus is on learning, on how much you know, on being smart, on intelligence, on getting good grades. A person can be brilliant or knowledge, a person can even know the halachos and know how to treat people right, but that does not translate into action. That is what we learn from Rabbi Akiva’s talmidim. No doubt that they were brilliant and knew a tremendous amount of Torah, more than we can fathom. But they did not treat each other right, and at the end of the day, that was important to Hashem.
___
Wednesday, April 13, 2011
Pesach Divrei Torah
Seven Divrei Torah for Pesach:
I apologize that I don’t have sources for all of these Divrei Torah. They come from things that I read in various Haggadahs and heard from various teachers. Enjoy!
#1
A speaker I heard once told this Dvar Torah in the name of the AriZal. He says that the purpose of the Simanei HaSeder (Kadesh, Urchatz etc.) is to describe the path of Avodas Hashem.
Kadesh- We start off by stating the goal: to reach Kedusha, holiness.
Urchatz- The first step to holiness is we must "wash ourselves"- we must get rid of all of the bad actions we are doing.
Karpas- When we first start serving G-d, all we have is a little taste of how good it is.
Yachatz- Next, we break the matza = we try to break our bad character traits.
Maggid- After that, the next step is to learn Torah.
Rachtza- Now we wash our hands WITH a bracha. We cleanse ourselves again, this time with intention.
Motzei Matza- We finally get to start eating. Now we start to see the results here of our actions.
Marror- After that, sometimes things get really hard and it's not easy, or exciting. This represents the hard times we go through in serving G-d and keeping Torah.
Korech- It's bad and good together- it's the next step, when things still aren't so great, but they are getting better.
Shulchan Orech- Part of a keeping Torah is being patient and waiting. After this whole LONG Seder, finally we have the meal. Sometimes it's hard to wait so long, but it's worth it.
Tzafun- We realize that there is so much that is hidden from us; so much we don't know or understand.
Barech and Hallel- We Thank G-d and praise G-d for everything He has done for us.
Nirtza- This talks about the future- Mashiach etc.
#2
An important part of the Seder night is Tefilla, prayer. A Gemara in Psachim, says that Matza is called "Lechem Oni" (literally a poor man's bread) because "sheh onin alav dvarim harbeh"- that Hashem answers our prayers. Note that the root of "oni" and of the Hebrew word for answer "ana" are similar. All of our prayers are answered and that's why it's called Lechem Oni. In addition, Pesach = Peh Sach, a mouth that speaks, talks. I once heard that in some Haggadas, right after Ha Lachma Anya, and right before Mah Nishtana, it says "Kan HaBen Shoel," which means, "here the son asks," but it could also be referring to Bnei Yisrael, the children of Hashem. Here we have the chance to ask for something from Hashem.
#3
The four sons: The Rasha/wicked son asks: מה העבודה הזאת לכם What is this work that you are doing? What is wrong with his question? The chacham’s question is not so far off!
He sees it as work and it is work, it’s not easy. But he builds it up- it’s work it’s too hard, it’s impossible, you should just give up. That’s why he’s the rasha. Not because he sins, everyone sins at some point, no one is perfect, but he says “its impossible; I shouldn’t even bother trying.” And this idea is completely against what we believe. We do NOT believe that it’s all or nothing. (See my post on that topic) G-d asks a lot from us, and although we strive for perfection, G-d knows we are not perfect, he didn’t create angels. All we are supposed to do is try. The Rasha/wicked son doesn’t even try. That’s why the opposite of the wicked son is not called “the Tzadik,” “the righteous son” it’s the Chacham- the son who is learned, who always asks, who tries to learn more. At the end of the day he is admired not for accomplishing, but because of his constant quest for growth and for striving to be better and not saying “It’s too hard so I might as well not do any of it.” Every little thing we do is precious to G-d. Pirkei Avot says- you don’t know which things are big to G-d and which things are small.
#4
Also on the four sons: Why is it in that order? You would think it would go in order of greatness- the חכם/wise son being first and the רשע/wicked son being last. Why is it not that way? Because they each have something to learn from each other. The חכם must not become arrogant and say, “look at me! I’m so smart and good and wise!” He must realize that he is right next to the wicked son on the list- if he is not careful, then he will become wicked. Being good isn’t a point you reach and don’t have to worry about ever losing that status, it’s something you must constantly work on. The wicked son must also learn his lesson that he is right next to the wise son on the list- he is so close to being righteous, it’s not that far away, not something he can’t hope to achieve.
#5
לא על ידי מלאך ולא על ידי שליח. G-d redeemed the Jews himself, not through an angel or a messenger. We are supposed to emulate G-d. What we can learn through this is that Every single person has a unique purpose in this world. We all have to ask ourselves, “Why did G-d put me here on this world?” And the answer is to do a specific task that cannot be done by anyone else in the world. We are put in our generation, in this year for a reason, put in this place, this family for a reason. And our task can’t be done by anyone else- not by an angel, not by a messenger, we each have unique talents and abilities that G-d gave us specially to use to fulfill our unique task in this world. (Breslov idea)
#6
On a similar note, Rav Kook asks: If we went from being slaves to Pharoh to being Ovdei Hashem = servants to servants, how did we really achieve cheirut, freedom? He answers that everyone has things that are unique to them, their abilities and their specific potential. When they are forced to do something against their nature, that isn’t made for them, that is slavery. But when they do want they are supposed to do, what they are meant to do, and can be themselves fully, then they are free. The Jewish people are inherently supposed to be servants of Hashem. He has made them for this purpose. By being ovdei Hashem we are fulfilling are purpose and so it is true freedom.
#7
In the Haggadah we read about ברית בין הבתרים, how Hashem promises Avraham that his children will be slaves, but ultimately redeemed. Isn’t this a strange promise? I promise that your children will be slaves. Oh, great, how comforting!! Why did Hashem make this promise to Abraham that his children will be slaves? Why was this experience necessary for us in order to become a nation? There are many answers to this question, and here are a bunch that I have complied:
• Unity: The Torah was given to us as a nation, we had to be numerous, because when people come together, that is SO powerful. The Jewish people are described as one person with one heart. Additionally, if the Torah was given to just one person then perhaps we would say “oh it’s only for him to keep, it was not given to me.” The Torah was give to lots of different people, are there are many of different ways to connect to G-d.
• G-d wanted us to experience difficulties and hardships so we would learn how to deal with them. Imagine that a child never got sick, and then she grows up and is 30 years old and gets sick. She wouldn’t know what to do with it. Life isn’t easy, and G-d wanted to prepare us for that.
• Another point, which is mentioned other plaches in the Tora, is that we needed this experience so we would know what it was like to be strangers, and so we would learn how to treat others. If someone is mean to you, then you learn that it’s bad to be mean and you need to be nice to other people. This is a very important message that G-d wanted us to learn.
• There are a lot of reasons for struggles. That’s how we grow. An interesting thing about a seed- we bury it in the dirt, only through burying it can it ultimately grow. Additionally, one reason we have struggles is to help others who have the same struggle. The Jewish people can say to other slaves, “Hey, we were slaves once, and look! G-d saved us. Hang in there, things will turn out Ok for you too.” If we do badly in a class and then work hard and in the end we do well, then when someone else is struggling, we too can say “I was also failing out of chemistry, let me help you, cause I know what that’s like.” G-d also gives us struggles so that we will call out to Him in prayer and through the prayer we change ourselves and become deserving of the thing we are asking for. G-d gives us struggles in life for so many reasons, but the struggle is designed specifically for us, to help us work on the things we need to work on.
• “No situation is so desperate that it cannot be turned to good”- Rebbe Nachman. That is something to learn from the Exodus from Egypt. No matter how bad things get, they can always turn around.
I hope this Pesach we will each be able to get the most out of our seder, absorb the numerous messages within the Haggadah, and that we should each receive personal redemption for all of our personal challenges and difficulties. May Hashem send our national redemption with the coming of Mashiach, bimiheira biyamenu. I wish you all a meaningful, uplifting, inspirational, wonderful, happy Pesach, and a Chag Kasher V’Sameach!!
_
I apologize that I don’t have sources for all of these Divrei Torah. They come from things that I read in various Haggadahs and heard from various teachers. Enjoy!
#1
A speaker I heard once told this Dvar Torah in the name of the AriZal. He says that the purpose of the Simanei HaSeder (Kadesh, Urchatz etc.) is to describe the path of Avodas Hashem.
Kadesh- We start off by stating the goal: to reach Kedusha, holiness.
Urchatz- The first step to holiness is we must "wash ourselves"- we must get rid of all of the bad actions we are doing.
Karpas- When we first start serving G-d, all we have is a little taste of how good it is.
Yachatz- Next, we break the matza = we try to break our bad character traits.
Maggid- After that, the next step is to learn Torah.
Rachtza- Now we wash our hands WITH a bracha. We cleanse ourselves again, this time with intention.
Motzei Matza- We finally get to start eating. Now we start to see the results here of our actions.
Marror- After that, sometimes things get really hard and it's not easy, or exciting. This represents the hard times we go through in serving G-d and keeping Torah.
Korech- It's bad and good together- it's the next step, when things still aren't so great, but they are getting better.
Shulchan Orech- Part of a keeping Torah is being patient and waiting. After this whole LONG Seder, finally we have the meal. Sometimes it's hard to wait so long, but it's worth it.
Tzafun- We realize that there is so much that is hidden from us; so much we don't know or understand.
Barech and Hallel- We Thank G-d and praise G-d for everything He has done for us.
Nirtza- This talks about the future- Mashiach etc.
#2
An important part of the Seder night is Tefilla, prayer. A Gemara in Psachim, says that Matza is called "Lechem Oni" (literally a poor man's bread) because "sheh onin alav dvarim harbeh"- that Hashem answers our prayers. Note that the root of "oni" and of the Hebrew word for answer "ana" are similar. All of our prayers are answered and that's why it's called Lechem Oni. In addition, Pesach = Peh Sach, a mouth that speaks, talks. I once heard that in some Haggadas, right after Ha Lachma Anya, and right before Mah Nishtana, it says "Kan HaBen Shoel," which means, "here the son asks," but it could also be referring to Bnei Yisrael, the children of Hashem. Here we have the chance to ask for something from Hashem.
#3
The four sons: The Rasha/wicked son asks: מה העבודה הזאת לכם What is this work that you are doing? What is wrong with his question? The chacham’s question is not so far off!
He sees it as work and it is work, it’s not easy. But he builds it up- it’s work it’s too hard, it’s impossible, you should just give up. That’s why he’s the rasha. Not because he sins, everyone sins at some point, no one is perfect, but he says “its impossible; I shouldn’t even bother trying.” And this idea is completely against what we believe. We do NOT believe that it’s all or nothing. (See my post on that topic) G-d asks a lot from us, and although we strive for perfection, G-d knows we are not perfect, he didn’t create angels. All we are supposed to do is try. The Rasha/wicked son doesn’t even try. That’s why the opposite of the wicked son is not called “the Tzadik,” “the righteous son” it’s the Chacham- the son who is learned, who always asks, who tries to learn more. At the end of the day he is admired not for accomplishing, but because of his constant quest for growth and for striving to be better and not saying “It’s too hard so I might as well not do any of it.” Every little thing we do is precious to G-d. Pirkei Avot says- you don’t know which things are big to G-d and which things are small.
#4
Also on the four sons: Why is it in that order? You would think it would go in order of greatness- the חכם/wise son being first and the רשע/wicked son being last. Why is it not that way? Because they each have something to learn from each other. The חכם must not become arrogant and say, “look at me! I’m so smart and good and wise!” He must realize that he is right next to the wicked son on the list- if he is not careful, then he will become wicked. Being good isn’t a point you reach and don’t have to worry about ever losing that status, it’s something you must constantly work on. The wicked son must also learn his lesson that he is right next to the wise son on the list- he is so close to being righteous, it’s not that far away, not something he can’t hope to achieve.
#5
לא על ידי מלאך ולא על ידי שליח. G-d redeemed the Jews himself, not through an angel or a messenger. We are supposed to emulate G-d. What we can learn through this is that Every single person has a unique purpose in this world. We all have to ask ourselves, “Why did G-d put me here on this world?” And the answer is to do a specific task that cannot be done by anyone else in the world. We are put in our generation, in this year for a reason, put in this place, this family for a reason. And our task can’t be done by anyone else- not by an angel, not by a messenger, we each have unique talents and abilities that G-d gave us specially to use to fulfill our unique task in this world. (Breslov idea)
#6
On a similar note, Rav Kook asks: If we went from being slaves to Pharoh to being Ovdei Hashem = servants to servants, how did we really achieve cheirut, freedom? He answers that everyone has things that are unique to them, their abilities and their specific potential. When they are forced to do something against their nature, that isn’t made for them, that is slavery. But when they do want they are supposed to do, what they are meant to do, and can be themselves fully, then they are free. The Jewish people are inherently supposed to be servants of Hashem. He has made them for this purpose. By being ovdei Hashem we are fulfilling are purpose and so it is true freedom.
#7
In the Haggadah we read about ברית בין הבתרים, how Hashem promises Avraham that his children will be slaves, but ultimately redeemed. Isn’t this a strange promise? I promise that your children will be slaves. Oh, great, how comforting!! Why did Hashem make this promise to Abraham that his children will be slaves? Why was this experience necessary for us in order to become a nation? There are many answers to this question, and here are a bunch that I have complied:
• Unity: The Torah was given to us as a nation, we had to be numerous, because when people come together, that is SO powerful. The Jewish people are described as one person with one heart. Additionally, if the Torah was given to just one person then perhaps we would say “oh it’s only for him to keep, it was not given to me.” The Torah was give to lots of different people, are there are many of different ways to connect to G-d.
• G-d wanted us to experience difficulties and hardships so we would learn how to deal with them. Imagine that a child never got sick, and then she grows up and is 30 years old and gets sick. She wouldn’t know what to do with it. Life isn’t easy, and G-d wanted to prepare us for that.
• Another point, which is mentioned other plaches in the Tora, is that we needed this experience so we would know what it was like to be strangers, and so we would learn how to treat others. If someone is mean to you, then you learn that it’s bad to be mean and you need to be nice to other people. This is a very important message that G-d wanted us to learn.
• There are a lot of reasons for struggles. That’s how we grow. An interesting thing about a seed- we bury it in the dirt, only through burying it can it ultimately grow. Additionally, one reason we have struggles is to help others who have the same struggle. The Jewish people can say to other slaves, “Hey, we were slaves once, and look! G-d saved us. Hang in there, things will turn out Ok for you too.” If we do badly in a class and then work hard and in the end we do well, then when someone else is struggling, we too can say “I was also failing out of chemistry, let me help you, cause I know what that’s like.” G-d also gives us struggles so that we will call out to Him in prayer and through the prayer we change ourselves and become deserving of the thing we are asking for. G-d gives us struggles in life for so many reasons, but the struggle is designed specifically for us, to help us work on the things we need to work on.
• “No situation is so desperate that it cannot be turned to good”- Rebbe Nachman. That is something to learn from the Exodus from Egypt. No matter how bad things get, they can always turn around.
I hope this Pesach we will each be able to get the most out of our seder, absorb the numerous messages within the Haggadah, and that we should each receive personal redemption for all of our personal challenges and difficulties. May Hashem send our national redemption with the coming of Mashiach, bimiheira biyamenu. I wish you all a meaningful, uplifting, inspirational, wonderful, happy Pesach, and a Chag Kasher V’Sameach!!
_
Sunday, April 10, 2011
Pesach Thoughts
There are very few words in the English or Hebrew language that make me quite as excited or happy as the word “Pesach.” (Shh don’t tell my mom!) In case the previous sentence didn’t give it away, Pesach is my favorite Chag, for a few reasons. The main reason is that it is a family-oriented holiday and I love spending time with my family. The second reason is the simple idea that the more you put into something, the more you get out. The more you prepare and work for something, the more sense of accomplishment you feel. Pesach requires more prep than any other chag, and as crazy and stressful as it is sometimes, I love the experience simply because I put so much into it and spent so much time on it. The third reason I love Pesach so much is that the themes of the chag seem to resonate with me a lot:
1. Freedom. Luckily I never experience slavery, but I always learned that although Pesach refers to a national redemption, Pesach is also about personal redemption. We all have difficulties and problems in life- that’s how life goes and I wouldn’t have it any other way. But recognizing G-d as the source of salvation and freedom from all of life’s challenges- whether it is a rift in friendship or with a family member or other relationship, whether it is a lack of clarity or direction. Whatever your issue is right now, just take a look at what G-d did for the Jews. The situation seemed hopeless, but Hashem proved that we should never despair. Hityatzivu U’Riu et Yishuat Hashem. Just watch! Hashem can save you.
2. The theme of love and closeness between Hashem and B’nei Yisrael. We read Shir Hashirim on Pesach, and the entire story of Yitziat Mitzrayim and Kriyat Yam Suf is full of Hashem saying, “I love you” to us and us responding with “I love you” to Hashem. That is why we call this chag “Pesach,” remembering what Hashem did for us, passing over our houses and only killing the Egyptians, while Hashem in the Torah never calls this chag Pesach, but rather Chag HaMatzot, “remembering” in a sense, what we, B’nei Yisrael, did for Hashem, our mitzvot- we ran out before our dough had a chance to rise, and today we do the Mitzvah of eating Matzah on Pesach.
3. The theme of spring, Chag HaAviv, renewal. Spring is a beautiful season. Watching trees that had no leaves on them start to blossom and watching the leaves appear amazes me every year. Plants are dead in the winter, things are dark and gloomy, and then spring comes and the flowers come out and it is just wonderful. We, too, can renew ourselves. We all have low points, and we can all start over. It is interesting in Judaism that we have two beginnings of the year and two beginnings of each day. A Jewish day begins at night, but in some sense, the morning is also the beginning of the day- we say Modeh Ani, it’s a new chance. Each year has two beginning points. Tishrei and Rosh Hashana are the beginning in some sense, but Nisan is the first month of the year, too.
There is so much more out there to say about Pesach, but those three points are the main points that really speak to me. Hopefully I’ll get a chance to post some of my favorite Divrei Torah to say at the seder, but I am always on the lookout for new Divrei Torah to share at my seder, so feel free to post your favorite thoughts and ideas in the comments or email me!
Also, if you have not yet seen this video, put out by aish.com it is really great:
Google Exodus
_
1. Freedom. Luckily I never experience slavery, but I always learned that although Pesach refers to a national redemption, Pesach is also about personal redemption. We all have difficulties and problems in life- that’s how life goes and I wouldn’t have it any other way. But recognizing G-d as the source of salvation and freedom from all of life’s challenges- whether it is a rift in friendship or with a family member or other relationship, whether it is a lack of clarity or direction. Whatever your issue is right now, just take a look at what G-d did for the Jews. The situation seemed hopeless, but Hashem proved that we should never despair. Hityatzivu U’Riu et Yishuat Hashem. Just watch! Hashem can save you.
2. The theme of love and closeness between Hashem and B’nei Yisrael. We read Shir Hashirim on Pesach, and the entire story of Yitziat Mitzrayim and Kriyat Yam Suf is full of Hashem saying, “I love you” to us and us responding with “I love you” to Hashem. That is why we call this chag “Pesach,” remembering what Hashem did for us, passing over our houses and only killing the Egyptians, while Hashem in the Torah never calls this chag Pesach, but rather Chag HaMatzot, “remembering” in a sense, what we, B’nei Yisrael, did for Hashem, our mitzvot- we ran out before our dough had a chance to rise, and today we do the Mitzvah of eating Matzah on Pesach.
3. The theme of spring, Chag HaAviv, renewal. Spring is a beautiful season. Watching trees that had no leaves on them start to blossom and watching the leaves appear amazes me every year. Plants are dead in the winter, things are dark and gloomy, and then spring comes and the flowers come out and it is just wonderful. We, too, can renew ourselves. We all have low points, and we can all start over. It is interesting in Judaism that we have two beginnings of the year and two beginnings of each day. A Jewish day begins at night, but in some sense, the morning is also the beginning of the day- we say Modeh Ani, it’s a new chance. Each year has two beginning points. Tishrei and Rosh Hashana are the beginning in some sense, but Nisan is the first month of the year, too.
There is so much more out there to say about Pesach, but those three points are the main points that really speak to me. Hopefully I’ll get a chance to post some of my favorite Divrei Torah to say at the seder, but I am always on the lookout for new Divrei Torah to share at my seder, so feel free to post your favorite thoughts and ideas in the comments or email me!
Also, if you have not yet seen this video, put out by aish.com it is really great:
Google Exodus
_
Sunday, March 20, 2011
Hope you had a Happy Purim!
Purim is over, but I still wanted to share my thoughts. Every year I get the chills at the same point in the Megillah, one of my favorite scenes in all of Tanach. You can probably guess what is it, since it is the climax of the Megillah and the scene most mentioned in speeches and Divrei Torah. The scene is the one where Esther finds out about Haman's wicked decree and tells Mordechai that she cannot go to Achashevrosh, and Mordechai replies with those words that get to me every time: "Maybe this is why everything happened!"
Just about all of the time, we don't know why things happen. And as someone who always asks "Why?" and who constantly thinks about meaning and purpose, I love the clarity that Esther has at the end of story, where she realizes that she was placed in a unique situation where she had the opportunity to play a crucial role that is remembered for generations.
Purim leaves me with much to think about. About the relationship between my external self and my internal self, about appearances, who I really am vs. who I show the world. About Hashem's hidden presence in the world and seeing Hashem's interaction in my daily life. What is my purpose here? Where do I go with all the things that Hashem has given me? What makes each aspect of my life meaningful? How can I take advantage of each opportunity comes my way?
Esther finds herself in a situation where she has a unique chance to make a difference. Mordechai doesn't tell her what to do. He doesn't say, "Don't just stand there! You have to do something!" He tells her what her possibilities are. Hashem is going to save the Jews and she can jump in or she can stay put. All I can think about is: Am I jumping in? Am I doing what I can do? Am I striving enough, or am I just passively floating through life, going wherever it takes me without paddling and playing my role?
I hope you all had a meaningful, happy Purim.
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