When the Jews Actually United!

On Tuesday, in response to the racist killings in Charleston, SC, a wide spectrum of 13 Jewish organizations called for this Shabbat to be a Shabbat of solidarity with the African-American community and reflection on the role of racism in society.  Besides raising awareness, one action suggestion is to reach out to local AME churches with expressions and demonstrations of support.  We don’t often see these groups coordinate – let alone agree – on anything.  Yet here were all of the denominations and major Jewish groups making a statement about the dignity of man and the need for respect for all people regardless of race, color, or religion.  (Halevai, there could be similar unified sentiments and calls to action for internal Jewish issues!) 

Especially in the Orthodox community, we don’t pay enough attention to how we relate to the outside, non-Jewish world.  The days of collaboration with the African-American community on civil rights is a thing of the past.  Everyone has moved on.  We should think about issues like racism, discrimination, and hatred and what we can do to better our country every now and then. 

In that spirit, let me share two things.  One story, and one Torah teaching.

Earlier this week, my wife was reading a children’s book about Rosa Parks with our 7-year old daughter.  Young Rosa is pushed by a little white boy, whose mother then yells at Rosa.  My daughter didn’t understand why the boy’s mother should be so angry if it was the boy who started it.  Naama explained it was because Rosa had black skin.  My daughter responded, “Why does that matter?”

Maybe, with the right encouragement and guidance, the future holds some promise for eliminating hatred.

Rabbi Aharon Lichtenstein has a Hebrew essay on the subject of the Jews’ relationship with the non-Jew.  In a very direct manner, he states that both Jews and non-Jews have a mission to serve God.  Jews and non-Jews are all called to live lives of purpose and mission.  Our missions (and mitzvot) may differ, but Jews need to realize that we don’t have a monopoly on holiness or sanctity.  Rav Lichtenstein asks whether we think about this enough in how relate to non-Jews and our responsibilities toward them.

I know I don’t think about this all that often. 

I thank the united Jewish community for declaring a Solidarity Shabbat.  At least, it got me thinking.

Reflections on Gimmel Tammuz: The Chabadnik in me...

You might remember the old Kellogg’s Frosted Mini Wheat commercial.  Basically, the cereal has two sides: a frosted side and the whole wheat side.  The commercial features a person who transforms from a kid to an adult while saying, “The KID in me likes the frosted sugary side, while the ADULT in me likes the health benefits of the whole wheat side.”  It’s much better to watch the video.

What’s this have to do with anything?

This Shabbat (tomorrow) is Gimmel Tammuz, the 3^rd day of the Jewish month of Tammuz, which is the yahrzeit of Rabbi Menachem Mendel Schneerson, the late Lubavitcher Rebbe.  Chabad has had a considerable influence on my life, and I consider myself a chasid even though I don’t necessarily dress like one nor have all the customs and the like.  So…the Chabad chassid in me has something to say!

I could go on and on (and on) about the teachings of the Rebbe.  You can also buy some of the great biographies that came out last year for the Rebbe’s 20^th yahrzeit.  Instead, there are two articles which speak volumes – VOLUMES – about the Rebbe’s influence and what we can learn from Chabad.  

The first is an outstanding overview of the Rebbe’s thinking about the modern world entitled Divine Zeitgeist – The Rebbe’s Appreciative Critique of Modernity.  It is a tour de force of some of the guiding philosophy of Chabad with great footnotes to boot.  The second is a terrific graphic entitled Unconventional Wisdom: A sampling of the Rebbe’s revolutionary teaching and initiatives.  It offers a practical blueprint of what makes Chabad so successful.  Please read, enjoy, and I think you’ll also be inspired.

No person or movement is perfect, but I often say that if the whole Jewish community could be more like Chabad, we’d be much more successful – and closer to redemption.  

The Rebbe’s yahrzeit is as good a time as any to think about how we each can be more active in enhancing Jewish life in the modern world whatever we do and wherever we find ourselves.

Yehi zichro baruch – may his memory be for a blessing.

Are We Really ALL Holy?

“Ki kol ha-eidah kulam kedoshim u-v’tocham Hashem – For the entire assembly is holy and God dwells within them.” (Bamidbar 16:3)

This statement is valid.  Every Jew is holy.  Yet, when Korach makes the claim, it is a rebellion against Moshe’s leadership.  What’s wrong with Korach making the claim?

I think that Korach’s statement was flat out wrong.  We may wish it were true that Jews are all holy, but Jews are not always holy.  We don’t always act in a way that reflects God being within us.  Take the arson attack this week against the church in the Galilee.  That is not an act of a holy people. 

Talk about not being holy.  Did you hear this statement?  One ultra-Orthodox member of Knesset said that the Women of the Wall, “are no less dangerous than the rioters who damaged the Christian site on the Sea of Galilee — not to draw a comparison… The rioters in both places are contemptible and are liable to cause hate crimes in Israel and in the world. All those who condemn, and rightfully so, hate crimes against Christians and understand that it may lead to bloodshed, must condemn the hate crime against the Jewish Haredim. Against the holy Torah scrolls at the Western Wall.” 

Really?!?  Are we really all holy when such actions or sentiments emerge from Bnei Yisrael?

I find myself thinking about a second statement that describes us all. We believe that all of humanity is created in the image of God.  100%.  But those words ring hollow when people don’t act in accordance with them.  I find myself thinking about that in light of the murder of 9 people in the church in South Carolina.

Korach just selfishly wanted to lead.  He felt that he was entitled to lead since everyone is holy.  He was flat out wrong.  Big bold pronouncements mean nothing without the actions that reflect such values.  I am glad that the Jewish community reacted to console the mourners in South Carolina and condemn the murderer.  You can see the letter of the Rabbinical Council of America here.  When I saw that come out, I asked the RCA leadership if there would be a condemnation of the arson in the Galilee, and one was released later that day.  

We aren’t all holy.  We need to STRIVE for holiness.  If all our actions reflect this lofty goal, we can hope to, please God, get there.

This is Forty!

 I delivered this sermon this past Shabbat, Parshat Shelach. Enjoy!

I have no problem admitting it.

The seemingly mild-mannered rabbi standing before you today is forced to make the very same admission that will soon be made by Alex Rodriguez of my beloved New York Yankees.

This is the very same admission made by Hollywood heartthrob Bradley Cooper and versatile actress, Drew Barrymore.

It is nothing juicy enough for TMZ or the New York Post.  But I still want to come clean.

I'm turning 40.

And, should any of you be wondering, let me declare loudly and publicly: my wife is much younger than I am.

Yes, starting July 3^rd, all of those clichés – the red sports car, it must be his mid-life crisis, etc. - can be directed at me.

Some people are uncomfortable with aging. You may have heard Larry Miller’s comedy routine about the only time in our lives where we really like to get old is when we're kids. If you're less than 10, you're so excited about aging that you think in fractions. I’m four and a half, six and three quarters, etc.

As we get older, it all changes. You turn 30. Makes you sound like sour milk. Then you're pushing 40. You reach 50 and you make it to 60. (After that…you just age gracefully!)

The good news is that Judaism has a more positive and reverent way of looking at aging.

40, for instance, is the age of binah - wisdom, understanding. It’s an age of maturity. The Talmud (Avoda Zara 5b) says one does not fully comprehend what one has learned until age 40.

40 is also a Jewish age for transformation. Rabbi Akiva was 40 when he completely changed his life. He went from ignorant shepherd all the way to being...R. Akiva. So it's an age of potential and promise.

The Jewish view is that any age holds potential and promise.  Any age gives us the opportunity to heed God’s call and serve life with great purpose.  Birthdays, therefore, are an appropriate time for all of us – even Rabbis - to reflect on where we are in life.

Who are we? Are we on the right path?  These are questions we should consider at any age, although numbers that end in a zero seem particularly appropriate.

Back in September, I started to send personalized birthday messages to KJ members whose birthdays we have on file. I wanted people to be aware that birthdays are an ideal time for reflection.

            Judaism encourages each and every one of us to ask the famous question: What is the purpose of my life? This is often the most difficult question to answer, at least honestly.  It’s particularly difficult because sometimes we get stuck on our way to achieving our purpose.

Psychologist Abraham Maslow introduced the Jonah Complex into the language of human behavior.  It is defined as the fear of success which prevents self-actualization, or the realization of one's potential. It is the fear of one's own greatness, the evasion of one's destiny, or the avoidance of exercising one's talents. The name is based on the actions of Jonah the prophet, who tried to evade his mission to warn the people of Ninveh that God would destroy them.  

Any time we face a crossroads or a decision that may bring more or different responsibility – a new job, marriage, or aging, we may get stuck and think “I might succeed, and that will make my life more complicated. There may be even greater expectations to follow. I will be different from others.”

Just like the Biblical Jonah, we may need a little push from above to fully examine our purpose.

It is this very question of purpose that leads us to one of greatest failings in the history of humanity, found right here in this week’s Parshah.  The spies failed, FAILED, to confront their purpose.  They FAILED to rise to the challenge, and they ultimately FAILED in their mission to enter the land of Israel.  The price of their failure:  40 years of exile.  Here, 40 is not such a good number. 

How is it conceivable that ten of the 12 greatest leaders of Israel did NOT want to enter the land of Israel? Had they completely forgotten God's miracles of the last 12 months? Had they not just seen with their own eyes the glory of the land? Weren't they excited to see this national dream come true?

Sadly, God's miracles and promises were not enough.

The grave sin of the spies was quite simply a blindness to their purpose. They didn’t realize who they were. They didn’t realize their own possibility. They were so close to living in the promised land, living happily ever after. So close, but they failed to believe that God believed in them.

The challenge of the spies, the Lubavitcher Rebbe teaches, was to confront their destiny to live in the land of Israel. But, they had grown comfortable with their current reality. They didn't want to live in the real world of sowing and reaping, of worrying and struggling.  It was much easier to remain in the desert with a high level of spirituality and God providing for all their needs.

Their JOB was to cultivate the land and combine the physical with the spiritual. To raise the level of the physical world by infusing it with Godliness. To show that the infinite can dwell in the finite.  That was and is the purpose of mitzvot and why Bnei Yisrael was going to enter the promised land.

Instead, they, we and Jewish history itself were left with this colossal, calamitous failure.

All of this then begs the question as we reflect on our own actions:  Are we like a modern day version of the spies, or are we heeding God’s call? Are we succeeding or failing?

I would argue that we are doing both, and we need to do better. And by we, I include myself as I, too, reflect on the challenge of heeding God’s call.

On a day to day basis, we try to heed God’s call and generally do the right thing. We come to shul. We give tzedakah. We care about family. We act ethically. We’re civilized – even at a hot Kiddush.

But do we have the driving sense of purpose and divine mission that the spies were supposed to have? Do we feel that God is calling us and calling us now?

The answer is often no.

We can forget – even in shul – that we can and must find God’s presence and calling in what we generally call ordinary. Al nisecha she-b’chol yom imanu – There are miracles that surround us every single day.  (That’s why we say v’techezena before Modim. We need to open our eyes.)

We can also forget that the challenges that confront us are opportunities to grow. We may think they are obstacles to prevent us from progressing, and we get discouraged. Not so. They are not obstacles; they are building blocks. They, too, are part of God’s plan.

Like the spies, we may want to settle for the current reality and rest on our laurels. How many of us have said, “I’m a good Jew, I’m a good person, I’m doing enough already.” It’s completely understandable, and I do it myself sometimes.

But this is where we can learn from the spies’ failure. It wasn’t just that they failed in their mission. They failed in their mission because they were afraid to fail. And so they orchestrated a strategy by which the people would stay in the desert.

They were wrong to avoid the challenge. The possibility of failure is part of the beauty.

Rabbi Jonathan Sacks notes: Fear of failure causes us to fail. The willingness to fail is what allows us to succeed.

So, I offer one simple action item today.  Take one new risk in your life. Undertake a commitment that frightens you a little and know that when you do so, you are serving God and answering His call. It can be large – like an hour of daily mediation on God’s glory – or small – one extra prayer or blessing a week.

For my part, I’m going to try to manage my time better. Be more careful to spend time with family. Share more of my thinking on Judaism through my blog. Exercise more.  To be more disciplined in these areas is a challenge for me.  I will have to confront scheduling pressures as I strive to maximize God’s gift of time and use it most effectively.

What will be your challenge?  If you think you might fail at it, that’s even more of a reason to try it.

Before I close, I’d like to offer one final point.  A very simple one, but worth reiterating:  Believe in yourself.

The spies did not.

The spies not only felt inadequate to the task at hand, they even thought that they knew what the Canaanites thought of them! "We're like grasshoppers in THEIR eyes." How did they possibly know what the Canaanites thought?

They didn’t. They just did not believe in themselves.

R. Tzadok HaKohein, the Rebbe of Lublin, (154) notes that it is actually a mitzvah to believe in yourself.

This week, I attended the closing retreat for UJA-Federation’s rabbinic fellowship for visionary leaders. The program was a one-year opportunity for study and collaboration with 14 New York rabbis of all denominations. I was the only Orthodox rabbi in the group. One of the recurring topics throughout the year was articulating vision. Vision is what we aspire to and what ultimately gets us out of bed in the morning. It is our “why.”

So I have been doing a lot of thinking about:  Who am I? What's my why? This goes beyond things that are important and fundamental like family.

What's my vision? What gets me out of bed each morning?

I came to the conclusion that the answer is simple: To be a rabbi.

It was actually on this very date 12 years ago that Rabbi Lookstein offered me the job to be a rabbi at KJ, and the rest is history in the making.

I am a rabbi in my bones, and my vision is to change lives by sharing kedusha (holy, meaningful experiences). I see my role as a rabbi to lead a synagogue that fosters individual Jewish identity as well as collective Jewish identity.

That's who I am.  That’s my vision.

What is your vision?

Each of us needs to have our own Godly calling.

It is never too early or too late to explore who you are and what your vision should be. Know who you are and own that role.  Start with minor steps.  Add one pushup to the exercise routine.  Donate a little more to tzedakah.  One extra unit of Torah study. Take on a new volunteer project – even if only one time. Spend an additional 20 minutes each evening with your children.  Heed God’s call and mission for you.

This process together will be transformative, and, as a community, not only will we not fail like the spies, but we will flourish and grow together.

If we embark on this mission together, then I am hopeful that by my 50^th birthday, that we will have, please God, many beautiful realized visions and accomplished missions to celebrate.

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Sin of the Spies or Sin of the People?

Here’s what we know.  Moshe sent twelve meraglim (scouts or spies).  They all come back with a very nice report concerning the land, but ten of them were far less glowing in terms of the chances of success in conquering the land.  The Jews, in character, complain.  The whole generation is condemned to die during 40 years in the desert.  (I always wondered how the punishment for this sin could be 40 years – as the Torah says: one year for each day the spies spent in the land - if they had already been in the desert for one year.  Was the punishment only 39 years?  Were the Jews in the desert for 41 years?  I’m open to suggestions!)

Now, it’s time assign the blame.  It would seem pretty obvious.  Looks can be deceiving.

Ramban, Nachmanides, places the blame squarely on the spies. They may have technically spoken truthfully, but he highlights the word “efes – but” that the spies used in presenting their report (Bamidbar/Numbers 13:28).  This shows they had a pessimistic, negative attitude that colored their report and discouraged the Jewish people, culminating in the punishment of 40 years in the desert.

Rabbi Naftali Zvi Yehuda Berlin, the Netziv, presents a different view.  It was also the people’s fault.  “Va-yotzi’u dibat ha-aretz – The spies presented a report of the land.” (13:32)  The verse does not say that they presented a negative report.  They gave over the facts of what they saw.  These facts, however, can be interpreted in a positive or a negative way.  It depends on who is listening.  Alas, it was a people who took the report and focused only on the negative.  They heard only the scary stuff, and acted accordingly.  Scientific studies have demonstrated that people actually seek out information that confirms what they already believe, while, for the most part, ignoring contrary information.

These two approaches highlight the complexity of the story of the spies.  Leaders need to genuinely lead.  At the same time, followers need to do more than follow. 

Leadership and follow-ship are not easy. We read too often about leaders failing to lead and also followers (communities) not demanding more from leaders.  Let’s strive to be the best leaders and followers we can be.

Sheryl Sandberg & Jewish Unity Day

I am sure many of you read (or read about) Sheryl Sandberg’s extraordinarily meaningful and moving shloshim post for her late husband, Dave Goldberg.  It captured many of the traditional Jewish responses to tragedy, pain, and suffering.  There are no answers, but there is the need to “lean in” and move forward.  This can be captured by the approach of Rabbi Joseph B. Soloveichik, in which the question in response to tzores (troubles) is not “Why?”  It is “What now? What can be done to move forward?”

I find it very powerful that such meaningful and potentially uplifting messages can emerge from such sad moments in people’s lives.  I only saw the sadness in Dave Goldberg’s untimely passing.  Sheryl Sandberg found – and shared – the strength.

This idea resonated while reading the coverage of “Jewish Unity Day 2015,” marking the one-year anniversary of the day when Eyal Ifrach, Gilad Shaer, and Naftali Fraenkel were kidnapped (and likely murdered that day as well).  The idea is to recapture the incredible Jewish unity that emerged to support the families and, at the time, demand the teens’ release.  I don’t know if you heard about the initiative, but it certainly did not capture anywhere near as much attention or unity as was focused on the teens and their families last summer.

Why is it that the sad, tragic, unfortunate, and painful events seem to be far more effective than the joyous or everyday happenings to elicit messages of strength, meaning, and unity? 

I am sure there is some sort of psychological, emotional, and even spiritual explanation.  It’s like Jews flock to shul for Yom Kippur but not for the chance to enjoy a beautiful Seudah Shlishit.  I get it, but that doesn’t mean I have to accept it.

How can we create and sustain more positive and lasting feelings of meaning for ourselves, our families, and those around us?

Not a bad topic to think about on a long Shabbat.