Judaism of Fire & Judaism of Water

It is a very busy holiday season (and that’s without factoring in the three three-day yom tovs).

I have always felt that Rosh Hashanah, Yom Kippur and Sukkot create a three-week Jewish new year’s celebration. On Rosh Hashanah, we begin a new year declaring how great we know we can be. We don’t repent or list sins. We boldly sound the shofar as a coronation of God’s Kingship and a declaration for what we are capable of, while recounting the patriarchal and Sinaitic covenants.

We then work to repair our mistakes and eliminate the sins that might get in the way of fulfilling our potential during the Ten Days of Repentance and Yom Kippur. Finally, two weeks into the new year, we celebrate over Sukkot. Sukkot is a chance to put our grand plan for the new year into practice with its myriad observances, rituals, and religious celebrations. We also keep things in perspective by reading Kohelet on Shabbat Chol Hamoed with its reminders that life isn’t one big party.

Rabbi Shlomo Yosef Zevin (La’Torah U’Lamoadim, V’Zot Haberacha) notes that Yom Kippur and Sukkot present two different models of Jewish living: fire and water.

On Yom Kippur, there is a lot of focus on fire. We read about the mizbeiach (altar) and all the sacrifices that were burned on it. The Kohein Gadol (High Priest) would bring fiery coals into the Kodesh Hakodashim (Holy of Holies). Sukkot, on the other hand, is a festival of water. There is the unique nisuch hamayim ceremony where water was drawn and poured out. The arba minim (four species) are all dependent on water, and the aravah (willow) specifically must grow by the water. Sukkot is the holiday where the rainfall for the year is set, and we start praying for rain at the end of the holiday on Shemini Atzeret.

Rav Zevin says fire is the Judaism of Yom Kippur, and water is the Judaism of Sukkot.

On Yom Kippur, we try to elevate our religious lives and experience a more sanctified existence. We forego physical pleasures. We spend the entire day in shul, within sacred space. We try to purify ourselves “lifnei Hashem,” standing before God, more angel than human. We try to transcend the earthly plane and rise the way fire burns upwards.

Sukkot is very different. On Sukkot, we bring holiness down into our daily lives. We leave our homes – not to go to shul but to the Sukkah. The mitzvah of dwelling in the Sukkah takes eating, sleeping, and just hanging out and creates an exalted religious experience. We take ordinary agricultural objects and turn them into the mitzvah of the Four Species full of symbolism and spiritual significance. Just as water drips or flows down, we bring kedushah down into our everyday lives.

Yom Kippur and Sukkot are opposites – fire and water. They provide two models of Judaism, The Judaism of striving upwards towards holiness through extraordinary means, and the Judaism of bringing religion into the nitty gritty of daily living.

Since October 7, we have seen many examples of both types of Judaism.

We have seen the sacrifice of so many who have given of themselves – and sometimes given their lives. The heroes who inspire us by their bravery, their resilience, or their sacrifice. There is a fiery religiosity on the battlefield. Rabbi Yosef Zvi Rimon noted that there have never been so many sefarim, Torah books, brought to the battlefield by soldiers who study every chance they get. There have never been as many soldiers declaring “Sehma Yisrael!” and other prayers before heading into combat. This is the fiery Judaism of striving mightily to rise higher and sanctify impossible conditions.

We have also seen ordinary people who inspire us with simple, heroic actions. We have seen goodness and kindness “trickle down” from the losses and horrors so many have endured.

Alon Mesika’s 23-year-old son, Adir, was murdered at the Nova festival along with most of his best friends. Adir was an avid surfer and traveler in the process of starting his own jewelry business, following in the footsteps of his father, a jeweler himself. He died trying to fight back and protect his girlfriend, Yuli, who ultimately survived. After sitting shiva, Alon told himself that he needed to stay busy. Coincidentally, he heard from one of Adir’s friends that there was a soldier hoping to propose who was looking for a ring. Alon invited him to the Diamond Exchange to pick up a diamond ring. He wanted to do more. He put out a Facebook message offering an engagement ring to the next soldier who comes out of Gaza and is about to get engaged. Within minutes, he got a response, and then another. As of May, he had given away 84 diamond engagement rings to soldiers!

Alon said, “Hamas is destroying houses and I am building them.” Transforming tragedy into a chesed opportunity is an example of bringing kedushah down.

Sukkot is Zman Simchateinu, a time to rejoice. Even in difficult times, we should celebrate the opportunities we have as Jews to rise up and improve our lives and the lives of those around us. We should also rejoice in the ordinary opportunities that allow holiness to flow down into our everyday lives.

Praying with Sinners

How do we relate to Jews with whom we vehemently disagree? What happens when Jews engage in despicable behavior? Are they still part of the community? Do we welcome them to Shul? How about those Neturei Karta scoundrels, who show up to protest Israel and support Iran? Or maybe you saw the images of Chabad students putting tefillin on a pro-Hamas protestor on October 7.

On the one hand, the Talmud (Sanhedrin 44a) teaches: “Af al pi she-chata Yisrael hu - Though a Jew may sin, a Jew he remains.” On the other hand, Jews supporting our enemies is a violation of basic loyalty to the Jewish people.

As infuriating as some Jews are, once a year, everyone is welcome. Before we begin Kol Nidrei, we declare: “Anu matirin l’hitpaleil im ha-avaraynim – We have permission to pray with the transgressors among us.”

What does this expression mean? Where does it come from? What does it teach us?

Inviting the sinner to pray is based on a teaching of Rabbi Shimon Chasida in Keritot (6b) that the prayers of a public fast day require the participation of “posh’ei Yisrael,” the sinners of Israel. The source for such inclusion is the spice called chelbanah, galbanum, which was an ingredient in the ketoret, incense. It had a terrible scent, but it was included – and essential – to the mix. So, too, the participation of sinners is critical in creating community in times of grave importance.

On Yom Kippur, every single confession is in the plural. We acknowledge that there are sins in our community even though we did not commit them, and there are sinners in the community. We begin Yom Kippur aspiring for achdut, unity.

There has been a lot of talk about Jewish unity. For most of 2023, there was a lack of unity as Israel was roiled by the dispute around reforming the judicial system. For the last 12 months, since October 7, the pendulum shifted towards more unity as Jews around the world came together to fight our common enemies. The expression “Yachad nenatzeiach – Together, we will be victorious!” was everywhere, and it seemed to be working. Most recently, it seems like we have reverted to old habits of disagreements. Unity isn’t easy.

Even our enemies understand the power and fragility of Jewish unity.

Sapir Cohen endured 55 days of brutal Hamas captivity before being released on November 30. Her partner, Alex (Sasha) Trufanov, remains held by the Palestinian Islamic Jihad. Sapir shared a gripping account of her experience in an interview with Israel Hayom, including how she actually spoke with Yahya Sinwar. She recounted an exchange with one of her captors:

"During my captivity, one of my captors called me to watch Al-Jazeera when they were showing footage of the Hostages Square. I saw tens of thousands of Israelis united in purpose, and it filled me with hope. The captor smiled, interlocked his fingers into two fists, and said, 'When all the Jews are like this, it's strong, strong, strong. We'll wait a bit, there will be chaos among you.' It was then that I understood they are acutely aware of our vulnerabilities and know that our greatest threat comes from within.”

Even Hamas recognizes we are stronger together. Sapir continued:

"This is why we don't need to share the same opinions, but rather respect each other, practice tolerance, and remember that we're all one family. We cannot afford to be indifferent to human life, and we must do everything in our power to bring back Sasha and the remaining hostages. We can't allow them to be out of sight and out of mind. If we choose the wrong path, we risk facing even greater tragedies. While there's talk of dismantling Hamas, we seem to be moving towards dismantling the unity of Israel itself."

“Anu matirin l’hitpaleil im ha-avaraynim – We have permission to pray with the transgressors among us.”

This Yom Kippur, the Tzohar organization is Israel, is emphasizing and promoting Jewish unity. They are arranging for hundreds of services throughout Israel that are open to Jews of all backgrounds and levels of observance. They are encouraging all Jews to add prayers for the unity of the Jewish people before Kol Nidrei and before Neilah. You can learn more about the effort and see the prayers HERE.

We know that Jews are a fractious, diverse people. At the same time, what better time than Yom Kippur to hope, pray, and aspire that there is still much more than unites almost all of us than divides us. Rabbi Jonathan Sacks said:

“Everything about Yom Kippur teaches us the absolute indivisible unity of the Jewish people. On the holiest day of the year, on the holiest spot on earth, the holiest man among the people – the High Priest – would do what? He would atone for himself, and then for his family, and then for the entire congregation of Israel. There were absolutely no divisions. The most righteous still needed to be forgiven. And the least righteous still were able to be forgiven. On Yom Kippur there is complete equality between Jews and complete unity between Jews.”

It is true, but what can we do to make it true?

We can commit to Jewish unity and do our best to act in ways that bring Jews together in united purpose. This Yom Kippur, we can also daven for more Jewish unity. Here is a prayer for unity composed by Rabbi Yosef Zvi Rimon:

“May God who blessed our ancestors, bless and watch over each and every one of the people of Israel. May God instill in our hearts the goodwill to see everything with a kind eye, great love for each and every one from Israel, and may we be granted powerful unity and complete redemption speedily in our days. And let us say: Amen.”

This Yom Kippur, as we take steps to make ourselves and our relationship with God and others better, let’s not give up on that elusive superpower called achdut. Jewish unity might be something beyond our reach, but that doesn’t mean we stop trying.

Thoughts this October 7

I am certain that your inbox, like mine, is filled with emails containing the subject “Remembering October 7.”

It is important to stand up today to declare that October 7, 2023, was the day Hamas slaughtered and kidnapped innocents in Israel while simultaneously launching an assault on free people everywhere.

While we commemorate today, I feel it is impossible to memorialize something that is still ongoing. The battle rages on, thousands of Israelis are displaced, and the hostages have not been freed. For thousands of individuals, October 7 is a specific date that devastated them and their families. For all of us, it changed us and continues to change us. Today is a day to recognize how we have changed and how those changes have changed us.

There have been hurtful and painful changes.

Our faith in the State of Israel to protect its citizens was shaken on October 7. In America, we have learned the truth about some of our supposed friends. We have seen a rise in Jew-hatred and Israel-bashing. The voices opposing us are getting louder while interest in the truth about Israel’s war against Hamas, Hezbollah, the Houthis, and Iran is hardly mentioned by the mainstream media.

There have also been encouraging changes.

We have witnessed the inspiring heroism of the IDF and the courage of their families. There have been countless tales of valor, final letters of fallen soldiers, and the brave faces shown by the bereaved relatives at military funerals. We have seen the unbelievable resilience of Israeli society as an entire country mobilized to help in ways large and small. We, too, answered the call and responded with generosity, attended rallies, offer prayers, and loudly speak up for Israel and the hostages wherever we can.

Today on October 7, we are grieving, remembering the fallen, reading the reflections, and attending solidarity gatherings. Let’s also be inspired and rededicate ourselves to the steps forward taken during this past year, the inspiration, the growth, and all the goodness.

Today, I know of a number of Torah dedications taking place to commemorate October 7. I think that is such an appropriate and meaningful way to mark this day. Regardless of how religious or secular you are (or think you are), Torah represents the eternity of the Jewish people. On a day which defies easy commemoration, dedicating a Torah scroll – even if you won’t be attending such an event in person - captures everything we hope to remember, grieve, honor, celebrate, fight against, and rededicate ourselves to today.

Today marks the completion of one year since last October 7, but it does not represent the closing of a circle. I shared this story on Rosh Hashanah:

A group of IDF soldiers in the field welcomed a new Torah. It was very moving, with all the soldiers dancing and singing the popular, joyous songs.

Suddenly in the middle of the dancing, a religious soldier got up and said, “I am very moved and excited. I feel that this dancing with the Torah now is closure for me. On Simchat Torah I was forced to stop in the middle of the Hakafot to go out to battle. Now, I am able to close that loop by continuing to dance with the Torah!”

A non-religious soldier suddenly got up and said, “There is no closure here!”

 

A very uncomfortable feeling swept over the group of soldiers. The non-religious soldier continued, “I am not a religious person. I don’t go to shul. In my entire life, I never experienced a Simchat Torah. On Simchat Torah you danced with the Torah and in the middle of Hakafot you left for battle. But I never danced. I never began the Hakafot. Now, we are all dancing together. There is no closure, no closing of a loop here, but rather it is a beginning, opening a new circle now!”

Today, the one-year anniversary of October 7, is a painful day, but it is not, by any means, the closing of the circle. Israel and the Jewish people continue to fight our enemies, and we need to redouble our efforts to help. Here are five ways to support Israel that we have promoted for the past year:

• Stay informed.
• Visit Israel! Stay connected with family and friends in Israel.
• Free them now! Keep the names and stories of the hostages front and center.
• Give generously. Support the JCAB Israel Emergency Fund or other charities.
• Pray. 

Earlier today, I received a text from a Jewish communal professional who was part of my first mission to Israel after 10/7. It powerfully captures what I feel is the essential message for today:

"Thinking of all of you. Am Yisrael Chai. From victims to heroes. Onward…"

Let's Keep Moving

 

Ki Teitzei – Ki Tavo – Nitzavim

These are the names of the three Torah portions we always read to close out the Jewish year.

Rabbi Moshe Avigdor Amiel, the chief rabbi of Antwerp and later of Tel Aviv, notes that these names provide a powerful message at the end of the year.

Ki Teitzei and Ki Tavo – we can come and go, but, in truth, “atem Nitzavim hayom kulchem lifnei Hashem Elokeichem,” we are always standing before God. Wherever we may be and no matter how far away we may go, we always return. Year after year, we come back to the shul, to the same place, to continue our relationship with God and with our millennia old tradition.

These names also correspond quite well with the time on the calendar on which they are read.

As the summer draws to a close, we read Ki Teitzei, as people head out on one last vacation, one last breath of fresh air. Afterwards comes Ki Tavo, as people come back home. Next comes Nitzavim, as people firmly take their places in school and shul and resume their routines.

This year, we also read Vayelech before Rosh Hashanah. It fits in nicely with Rav Amiel’s theme as it symbolizes our need to stride forward and walk purposefully into the New Year.

Nitzavim – Vayelech: We must stand before we can walk.

Rabbi Shlomo Yosef Zevin, a prominent and unique Eastern European-born Jewish scholar who spent the second half of his life in Israel, explains the word nitzav as remaining resolute and strong b’komah zekufah, with a straight posture. Actions should never just occur. They must be infused with a specific sense of purpose. The key to Rosh Hashanah is to stand up and resolve to make specific decisions.

At the same time, we’ll only have a successful New Year if we keep moving. We cannot remain nitzavim, standing in place, tethered to what happened this past year for good or for not so good. It is not enough to be resolute in our desire to better or strongly declare our good intentions. We need vayelech - to get busy moving forward.

Judaism is an ever-changing, evolving, dynamic experience.

Water is a powerful symbol in Judaism because it represents life and movement. We reference mayim chaim, living waters, and ma’ayan mitgabeir, an overpowering spring. King Solomon writes (Mishlei 18:4), “The words a man speaks are deep waters, a flowing stream, a fountain of wisdom.” The Greek philosopher Heraclitus said, “No man ever steps in the same river twice. For it’s not the same river and he’s not the same man.” Jewish living ebbs and flows, slows down and speeds up, and can be choppy or tranquil.

Jewish law is called “halakhah,” which literally means to walk or travel along a path. “Mutar” means permissible and also released or untied. Something “asur” is forbidden, while the world also means bound or tied. We navigate the path of Jewish life. Sometimes, the way is open, and sometimes the path is blocked. Sometimes, Judaism feel like a small, narrow path, and sometimes it’s a multilane highways with plenty of room to maneuver.

In recent years, the term “off the derech” has been used to describe individuals who stray from observance, the right derech or way of life. I think the term is wrong. Everyone is on a derech, on their own path. We just need to keep moving.

An alumnus of a prominent university returned to campus years after graduation for the chance to meet the university president who was in office when he was a student.

This particular individual had done well for himself. As he was introduced to the now elderly president, he took him aside and said, “Sir, I will be forever grateful to you for the words you whispered to me on my graduation day as you handed me my diploma. Over the course of my life there have been ups and there have been downs and thank God things have turned out all right for me. But in the dark moments, it was the wisdom you shared with me that day that has sustained me throughout.”

The university president was at a loss. He turned to the man saying, “Son, I am humbled by your kindness, but I have presided over decades of college graduations, every graduation with thousands of graduates. I have handed more diplomas to more people than I can count. Embarrassed as I may be, I must admit, I don’t remember. Please tell me – I need to know – what was it that I said to you?”

The man looked at him and replied, “You said to me, ‘Keep moving.’”

There has been a lot that took place in 5784 that is difficult to overcome. We are still mired in the aftermath of October 7. There is tremendous pain and sorrow along with a lot of uncertainty. We cannot ignore what happened, but we cannot remain standing in place defined by the difficulties of the past year. We will resolve to move forward.

May we be up for the challenge to resolve how to live our best, true lives for ourselves and for others and keep moving forward.

Lord, Get Us High!

Ishay Ribo in concert at Madison Square Garden, Spetember 15, 2024

It’s not the most complicated Shlomo Carlebach song – and, considering its folk, hippie origins, it has a certain innuendo to it. The song, originally composed for a wedding that took place in Golden Gate Park with the words “Yasis alayich Elokayich,” describes the aspiration to connect in a genuine way with God and people in a better world.

“Lord get me high, get me high, get me high. Lord get me high, get me higher. (2x)
Higher and higher, higher and higher, higher and higher and higher. (2x)”

I was thinking about soaring spiritual heights while attending Ishay Ribo’s sold-old Madison Square Garden concert on Sunday night. Together with 15,000 Jews (I’m guessing only members of the tribe would have paid those prices to attend!), we sang, prayed, swayed, and danced.

The attendees came from all different communities, affiliations, and religious backgrounds. There was a palpable energy in the room whenever Ishay mentioned Israel, the IDF, wounded soldiers, bereaved families, or, Israel’s ultimate victory. When the spotlight shone on Ronen and Orna Neutra, whose son Omer is one of the hostages, it felt like the entire audience was embracing them together.

Ribo began the concert quoting from the sefer (Torah book) he is currently studying about how there is tremendous koach ha-tzibbur, spiritual energy when many Jews come together. The assembled congregation heard lyrics such as “Rak Lecha – Only to You, Lord” and “Ein lanu Melech ela Ata – We only have You, Lord, as our King.” Ishay led everyone in the prayer “Ana Hashem hoshiah na – Please, God, save us!” and asked everyone in the arena to commit to speak less lashon ha-ra (gossip). The last words sung that evening were “Baruch shem kevod malchuto l'olam va'ed - blessed is the name of God’s glorious kingdom forever and ever.”

All in all, a pretty frum, religiously uplifting evening.

Ishay Ribo is one of a growing number of Israeli singers whose soulful songs are growing in popularity with religious and secular Jews alike. Not all the singers are religious, but the religious themes have become wildly popular.

From the songs to the prayers to the onstage persona with his tzitzit visibly out, Ishay is particularly soulful and religious. In a New York Times article last year, he mentioned that he envisioned his melodies might sound like Coldplay, the popular British rock band, but his lyrics “would be about God and faith.” The songs resonated more than he could imagine. In 2021, “Sibat Hasibot,” a song about God as the Cause of all, was the most played song on Israeli radio stations, religious and secular alike. “I never imagined I’d play to this kind of crowd,” he said after one concert. A decade ago, he said, “This kind of crowd just didn’t really exist.” Now, he has sold out the Garden twice.

All of this popularity of genuinely Jewish music today is response to the Jewish soul’s desire to rise. Shlomo Carlebach would call it “Lord, get me high.” I call it elevational. The Jewish soul naturally strives to ascend.

It’s a blessing.

This week, we read the tochecha, the blessings and the curses. Tucked into the blessings is one that, on its surface, may not seem all that special. 

וְהָיִיתָ רַק לְמַעְלָה וְלֹא תִהְיֶה לְמָטָּה

“You will only be up, and you shall not be below.” (Devarim 28:13)

What exactly is the blessing of being up?

Rabbi Ezriel Hildesheimer, a leading 19^th century Modern Orthodox German Rabbi, explains that this blessing emphasizes the Jew’s gravitational pull towards spirituality. When we do our best to act like Jews, follow mitzvot, and connect with God and others, then we will feel uplifted, inspired, and elevated. That’s a tremendous blessing.

The natural state for a Jew is to connect to a higher purpose, something beyond ourselves. Living our most authentic Jewish lives is the pathway towards the blessing of being up.

Over and again, we discuss Judaism as a quest for being holy. What does it mean to be boly? Rabbi Chaim Vital, the famed Kabbalist and student of the Arizal, taught:

“A holy person is one who has opened themself up to holiness. A holy place is a place which draws people looking for holiness. A holy time is a time that awakens or invites us to holiness.”

Being open to holiness, to growth, and to the soul are the first steps towards acquiring the blessing of elevation. When people mention the pintele Yid, the spark of the Jewish soul, they are referring to just this openness. A non-observant Jew once noted, “I do not know why, but whenever I drive through an observant Jewish neighborhood, I feel a gravitational pull.” Somehow, the Chasidic Jew or the kosher restaurant or the Orthodox experience exudes a more authentic Jewish air.

We live in a world where so much seems to be dragging us down. The past 11 months in Israel have been a huge strain on our positive energy as so many thousands have been impacted, pained, and bereaved. Here in America, there is more and more Jew hatred and overall negativity. (Did you know there’s an election soon?) It would be very easy to just get sucked down into the negativity. Instead, we should follow our innate spiritual natures upwards.

Shlomo Carlebach, Ishay Ribo, the Shabbat table, the High Holidays, supporting Israel, praying for the hostages, performing acts of kindness and just being Jewish are all pathways to this elevated experience and the blessing of being up.

Lord, get us high!

Listen to Your Yeitzer Ha-Ra

It is a mitzvah like no other.

“If you go out to war against your enemies, and the Lord, your God, will deliver them into your hands, and take captives. And you see among the captives a beautiful woman, and you desire her. You may take her as a wife.” (Devarim 21:10-11)

This is the mitzvah of eishet yefat to’ar, the captive bride, Mitzvah #532 in the Sefer Ha-Chinuch.

Really?! It is true that there are very specific guidelines attached to the permissibility of such a captive bride, and the Sages struggle to explain the order of events. No one is encouraging such an eventuality, but the very possibility raises eyebrows. Does this treatment of captives correspond to the Torah’s moral code? Should a vanquished woman be forced to marry her captor against her will? It is a strange mitzvah indeed.

The traditional response to these questions is found in Kiddushin 21b: “Lo dibra Torah ela k’neged yetzer ha-ra – the Torah is relating in this situation to a person’s evil inclination.” In effect, expected behavior takes a back seat to desire. How can this be?! As Rabbi Yair Kahn of Yeshivat Har Etzion puts it:

“Isn’t the Torah a blueprint for the redemption of man? Isn’t the purpose of the mitzvoth to help the individual control their desires and lead a moral life? Wouldn’t it be more appropriate for the Torah to encourage one who encounters the beautiful captive to overcome the carnal desire? Why do our Sages suggest that the Torah allows us to give in?”

Lo dibra Torah ela k’neged yetzer ha-ra recognizes the reality of human frailty.

We are human beings. Permission to marry the captive bride is an accommodation to human weakness. It is a singular acknowledgment that our desires can get the better of us.

At the same time, it comes with a warning. No good comes out of this union. The Talmud states that marrying the yefat to’ar will lead to a dysfunctional family and, ultimately, a ben sorer u’moreh, the rebellious child. We are warned about the danger, but it is still allowed. Why? The dangers serve as motivation to fight even if technically we are allowed to give in.

Rabbi Michael Rosensweig of Yeshiva University writes:

“[T]he Torah communicates through the halachot of yefat toar that one must strive mightily to maintain halachic standards and perspective even in the most challenging environments and circumstances. While conceding man's spiritual frailty… our ultimate goal is to attain authentic kedushah (holiness)…”

Sometimes, we may grudgingly listen to our yetzer ha-ra and give in to our desires. It may be allowed, but it is not ideal. It is the exception that is meant to guide us back to following the rules.

The captive bride demonstrates the very real struggle of being human. We know what we are supposed to do. Sometimes, we face temptation. Ideally, we resist. We understand there are limits. There may also be consequences. But…sometimes the desire is too strong, and we transgress. Hopefully, we do better next time.

This is the “conversation of the evil inclination” the Torah describes with this episode.

OK. We’re human. We struggle. We make mistakes. We fall, and we get back up again. Why teach this lesson specifically using the eishet yefat to’ar? The details of the captive bride are mind boggling. After all the explanations, one word still comes to my mind: Really?!? How would we respond to a real-life implementation of this mitzvah. Even if it could not happen today, I have always wondered if such a case was ever confronted. Let’s say it happened. How would we respond? I know how I would respond: That’s preposterous!

Eishet yefat to’ar is presented as a cautionary tale that no sin should be unfathomable. Lo dibra Torah ela k’neged yetzer ha-ra. The evil inclination is real, and sometimes it wins. Do not be surprised by what people are capable of doing. 

Our contemporary reality proves this. This past year, we have witnessed the pure evil of innocents slaughtered and ripped from their families. We have seen American students wave Hamas flags. We have seen supposed friends and allies refuse to acknowledge the crimes committed against the innocent. The Torah warned us about this. The yetzer ha-ra is evil. We ignore ours – and its power over others – at our own peril.

Listening to the yetzer ha-ra is relevant as the High Holidays approach, and we are tasked with reflecting on our actions and decisions. The sins we see or hear about or commit are reminders and cautionary tales of how easy it is for anyone to act in surprisingly terrible ways. If eishet yefat to’ar can occur, how much more so, must we pay attention to the mistakes we are capable of and those made by others.

Let’s listen to the yetzer ha-ra. Just as heeding it can be responsible for unfathomable mistakes and lows, taking heed and acting positively can propel us and those around us to unfathomable heights in the coming New Year.

Chasing Tzedek

This week has us screaming for justice.

On Sunday, we were shattered by the news of the six hostages murdered just before IDF troops reached them. Throughout the week, we saw images and heard reports of how much our enemies hate us. Our kids are back on campuses where rules against hate-speech and interfering with students are not enforced. Institutions we think we can trust do nothing or even pile on the hatred. A doctoral student at Columbia University, who was roundly mocked for demanding "humanitarian aid" for the students who broke into and occupied a building on campus in April, is teaching a class in that same building this fall – a class which all undergraduates are required to take in order to receive a diploma. Yesterday, the Portland, Maine, city council voted to divest from companies doing business with Israel.

All these developments are painful, frustrating, and dispiriting. Where is the justice?

While there are no easy solutions, we must chase after tzedek.

“Tzedek tzedek tirdofe – Tzedek, tzedek shall you pursue.” (Devarim 16:20).

Tzedek is most often translated as “justice.” I believe justice doesn’t do justice to the word “tzedek.”

Tzedek means to act honestly, uprightly, and charitably to fill a void. An act of tzedek may be to punish the criminal or speak and deal honestly or to give to the needy. “Give a little tzedakah!”

The Torah repeats the word “tzedek” because there are many types of injustice that require our attention. Martin Luther King, Jr. said, “Injustice anywhere is a threat to justice everywhere.” There are many wrongs that need righting, and one size of “justice” does not resolve all of them.

It is not within our power to set everything right, but that doesn’t mean there is nothing for us to do. Rav Kook, whose yahrzeit is today (3 Elul), noted:

“The pure and righteous do not complain about wickedness: they increase righteousness. They do not complain about heresy: they increase faith. They do not complain about ignorance: they increase wisdom.” (Arpilai Tohar, pp. 27–28)

We cannot sit back and let injustice get the better of us. We respond with acts of goodness, kindness, justice, and we speak up loudly for Israel and our community. That is Tzedek.

The Torah commands us to pursue tzedek with the word “tirdofe,” which literally means to run or chase. Pursuing tzedek by acting honestly, justly, and generously is a race. When it comes to running, people run at different paces and can run for different distances. The pursuit of tzedek is a different “race” for each issue and each person. We may not finish. What is important, though, is for each of us to get in the race. We cannot sit on the sidelines.

There is another type of tzedek to pursue.

Tzedek is the root for tzaddik, the righteous or accomplished individual. “Tzedek tzedek tirdofe” requires of us each to be the best we can be and seek out the tzaddik in ourselves and others. There’s no guarantee we’ll “catch” that tzaddik, but we need to try.

Rabbi Shlomo Zalman Auerbach was a great Torah scholar and posek. He had an amazingly warm and kind personality which endeared him to all. When he would see a car drive by on Shabbat, which, being Israel, was very likely being driven by a Jew, would shout out, “Mazal tov!” Why? He figured that a Jew driving must be heading to the hospital for a good reason like the birth of a child.

Reb Shlomo Zalman was fulfilling the mitzvah of “tzedek tzedek tirdofe,” chasing after the righteousness in others. We should do the same and seek the righteousness within and within others.

There is a lot of injustice surrounding us, and tzedek to pursue everywhere. The Torah doesn’t tell us to catch justice; we are commanded to pursue it and seek it even if we cannot achieve it. As we begin the month of Elul, it’s time for each of us to open our eyes, our minds, and our hearts, put on our “tzedek shoes,” and join the race for justice, honesty, integrity, charity, aspiring for righteousness and seeing it in others.

The race is on. On your mark, get set, go!