What To Do With Leftovers

It is a very relevant question the morning after Thanksgiving: What should we do with leftovers? (Do you remember this commercial for Perdue’s over stuffer roaster?)

Some people love them, while some people hate them. For some, leftovers are welcome reminders of what remains from a delicious meal. For others, it is time to move on, and they won’t touch leftovers. When there is a lot of food, there are going to be leftovers. Thanksgiving or Shabbat or Yom Tov generates leftovers. What might we learn from leftovers?

Psychologist Alex Korb explains that some people get pleasure from finishing leftovers because of dopamine. The brain releases the neurotransmitter dopamine when we experience pleasure as well as when we finish a goal. For example, Pringles are so addictive because the dopamine that gets released when you eat a chip, drives you to eat another, and the anticipation of more keeps releasing more dopamine. When you finally finish the whole can, even more dopamine gets released. Thanksgiving leftovers are so delicious because dopamine gets released due to the goal of the meal being completed.

I am not sure this works for everyone.

Rabbi Berel Wein tackles leftovers from a Jewish perspective. According to Jewish law, one may only cook on a holiday what is needed for that day. However, one may cook extra food if one thinks guests may show up. The extra food isn’t viewed as potential leftovers; it is viewed as food that is necessary to fulfill the mitzvah of hachnasat orchim (welcoming guests). Implicit in this idea is the concept of friendship and familiarity that Jews should feel about casually visiting one another to share the joys of the holiday. What some may consider “leftovers” (or potential leftovers) are really the tools to create closeness.

The Torah provides another example of “positive leftovers” when the Jewish farmer harvests produce from the fields. Every Jewish field has a corner that is not harvested and left over for those in need. Sheaves of grain that have fallen to the ground during the harvesting process are left over for the poor, and rows of produce that somehow were forgotten in the tumult of harvesting the field are left behind for the needy. These leftovers are a testament to the fact we are not he exclusive owners of our own property. God is in charge, and we are commanded to be kind to those in need.

Another lesson of “holy leftovers” is our connection to the past. Each day in the ”Al HaTzadikkim” blessing of the Shemone Esrei, we pray for “the remnant of scholars” of previous generations. They are not merely part of the past. We gain so much when have living grandparents or great-grandparents to inspire us. Even when not physically present, their spiritual legacy is essential to who we are today. We strongly embrace “holy leftovers,” the people, teachings, and stories that continue to nourish us.

Leftovers may not taste the same as when first cooked, but they serve as a still-tasty reminder of how we must connect and support others while remaining connected to our past. As Rabbi Wein concludes, “So, the next time that you are privileged to partake of warmed-over Shabbat food on Tuesday, think of it as being a blessing and not merely a method of using up extra food.”

I think the same is true for Thanksgiving – or any other – leftovers.

Youth is Not Only for the Young

“If you are not a liberal at 25, you have no heart. If you are not a conservative at 45, you have no brain.”

This quote is a version of a sentiment attributed to various thinkers including Thomas Jefferson. As people age, their viewpoints change. Some people are more idealistic in their youth, while, with the passage of time, some may become more cynical and less optimistic of being able to solve the world’s problems.

We cannot stop growing older, but we can try to maintain our youthful enthusiasm and optimism our whole lives.

“Sarah’s lifetime—the span of Sarah’s life—came to one hundred years and twenty years and seven years.” (Bereishit 23:1)

The commentators note the redundancy in the verse to mean that Sarah lived an incredibly meaningful life for her entire life. Rashi notes that, even at the age of 100, Sarah still possessed characteristics of a much younger woman of 20 and even some childlike qualities of a girl of 7.

The Talmud (Bava Kamma 97b) notes that there was a coin that represented Avraham and Sarah. (Think of those commercials for commemorative coins from the Franklin Mint. Remember those?) On one side, there was a likeness of an old man and an old woman, and, on the other, there was a likeness of a young man and a young woman. Some commentators explain this as representing Avraham and Sarah and Yitzchak and Rivkah. The older generation giving way to the new. I prefer understanding both sides of the coin as representing Avraham and Sarah, who, while older and wiser, maintained their youthful curiosity and idealism. We may think that both sides of the coin are not found in the same person, but they can be. For Avraham and Sarah, wisdom and idealism were mutually exclusive ideas but two sides of the same coin.

This may help us understand the debate regarding how old Avraham was when he discovered God. Some say he was 3 years old. Others say he was 40. The answer is both! Avraham had a childlike relationship with God, one of simple faith and awe similar to the way preschool students think about Hashem. At the same time, Avraham also thought deeply and rationally about his relationship with God. It wasn’t all songs and wonder. Avraham related to God as a mature adult with all the complexity that entails.

Each of us must strive to combine youthful enthusiasm and thoughtful maturity. Rabbi Joseph Soloveitchik teaches:

 “The child is endowed with a capacity of an all-absorbing faith and trustfulness; youth bursts with zealousness, idealism, and optimism; the adult, mellowed with years, has the benefit of accumulated knowledge and dispassionate judgment. Each age is physically and psychologically attuned to particular emphases, but the superior individual can retain and harmonize the positive strengths of all three periods during his or her lifetime” 

                    (Man of Faith in Modern World by Rabbi Abraham Besdin, p. 89)

How can we harmonize our youthful zealousness and adult mellowness?

Firstly, we need to learn from each other. Older people should seek advice from the young people to infuse some fresh ideas and creativity into the way we’ve always done things. This can be at home, in school, in shul, or in communal institutions. Young people are always telling me I’m old. Instead of being insulted, I should ask them how they think I can be less old. At the same time, young people should seek advice from those who have been around longer to gain wisdom and life experience.

A second way to merge idealism and experience is to encourage intergenerational activities. It is true that the music may be too loud for the older people and the program too long for the youngsters, but the best way to optimize the experience is when we all come together. There is a time for different demographics to do their own thing, but we can strive for a synergistic relationship in which new approaches are taken without abandoning the past. Each generation needs to appreciate its essential role in being the generation that came before and will come next.

George Bernard Shaw famously said, "Youth is wasted on the young" It doesn’t have to be true. We can be old and young at the same time. Just as young people need the wisdom and tradition of the past, older people need the enthusiasm, passion, and idealism of the old. The goal is a synthesis. Rav Kook put it best: “Hayashan yit-hadesh vehahadash yitkadesh – That which seems old can become new, and that which is new can become sacred.”

The Protest of Avraham

Avraham was a trailblazer.

He was the first monotheist to share his teachings with the world. He stood up for family and fought for Lot - even if they didn’t fully get along. And Avraham stood up to God when he felt God was unfairly destroying Sodom.

“Chalilah Lecha - Far be it from You to do such a thing! To bring death upon the innocent as well as the guilty, so that innocent and guilty fare alike. Far be it from You! Shall not the Judge of all the earth deal justly?” (Bereishit 15:25)

Think about it. Avraham is better known for obeying God. God said, “Go,” and Avraham went. God said, “Listen to Sarah to send away your son, Yishmael,” and Avraham cast them away. God will tell Avraham, “Offer your son as a sacrifice…” You get the idea.

In the case of Sodom, however, Avraham pushes back. God tells Avraham the people of Sodom are wicked, and the place must be destroyed. Avraham essentially accused God of un-Godly conduct. Why? Did Avraham think he could change God’s mind?

The question is compounded by the fact that the wickedness of Sodom was anathema to the goodness and kindness of Avraham. Why should it bother Avraham so much to see evil eradicated?

Finally, when Avraham fails in his mission to save Sodom, the Torah says (Bereishit 15:33), “Avraham shav li’meloko - Avraham returned to his place.” Where else did he go? What do we learn from how Avraham handled defeat?

In the Sodom scenario, Avraham models several critical characteristics that are in short supply these days. 

1)  When something seems wrong, speak up. 

Elie Wiesel tells the following story about protest. ("Words from a Witness", p. 48) 

One day a Tzadik came to Sodom. He knew what Sodom was, so he came to save it from sin, from destruction. 

He preached to the people. "Please do not be murderers, do not be thieves. Do not be silent and do not be indifferent." 

He went on preaching day after day, maybe even picketing. But no one listened. He was not discouraged. He went on preaching for years. 

Finally someone asked him, "Rabbi, why do you do that? Don't you see it is no use?" 

He said, "I know it is of no use, but I must. And I will tell you why: in the beginning I thought I had to protest and to shout in order to change them. I have given up this hope. Now I know I must picket and scream and shout so that they should not change me." 

We can never just accept a scenario that seems wrong, unfair, or unjust. 

2.  Don’t give up on people. 

Avraham refused to believe there was a place that had no redeeming people. Even as an exemplar of loving kindness, he wasn’t ready to give up on wicked people without a fight. 

Sometimes, we may be quick to write off those who are different or people with whom we have less in common. Who needs ‘em? Maybe we’re not looking hard enough at what we do have in common with them. Our default setting should be to try and find a way in which we align rather than jumping to write such people off. 

3.  It’s OK to lose. 

Avraham lost. God convinced him Sodom was irredeemable. How did Avraham respond? Shav li’mekomo. He went back to where he was before. Avraham was undeterred. He went back to being Avraham, the same God-loving, obedient, kind monotheist he had become.

He fought the Lord, and the Lord won. Now back to the business of being the best Avraham he could be. He went “li’mekomo,” back to where he had been before.

I thought about Avraham’s reaction in relation to the recent elections in Israel and the US. Elections are a battle of people and ideas. Not an actual war, but it can be intense. How do the losing candidates and their supporters react?

Congresswoman Elaine Luria, who narrowly lost her re-election bid, had a terrific perspective. 

When her loyal supporters booed her concession announcement, Luria admonished them. “Please don’t boo,” she said. “Because the success of this district depends on my opponent’s success. This was a hard-fought race; she won this election. We came out short of where we wanted to land. But the truth is that we do need to wish her the best of luck and my team is here… we’re going to be fully behind a smooth transition.”

Shav li’mekomo. Don’t let a setback or defeat alter who we are or what we believe. 

It’s not easy to protest. It’s not easy to see the redeeming qualities in those who are different. It’s not easy to lose. It’s not easy to be like Avraham. That doesn’t mean we shouldn’t try. 

The Army of Avraham

Who else, as a kid, was a member of Tzivos Hashem?

Tzivos Hashem, literally the Army of God, was founded in 1980 by the Lubavitcher Rebbe as a youth group to increase religious observance and knowledge of Jewish customs and religious practice in Jewish children. The idea was to empower participants by using military language, imagery, and even ranks to add structure, competition, and fun to Judaism. You would start as a Private and then be able to climb the spiritual and literal ranks all the way to General.

I was a career Private.

Viewing our Jewish responsibilities as a military mission was not a modern innovation. Avraham was the first Jewish (or Jew-ish) soldier. He joined the battle of the five kings versus the four kings to rescue his nephew, Lot. Avraham did not want to fight, but he felt the need to stand up and do battle for what was just and to protect his family.

The Torah says (Bereishit 14:14) that Avraham armed his “disciples,” and they went off to battle. What is the significance of the Torah describing these soldiers as disciples? Avraham did not merely impart information to his students. He taught them to act. His students didn’t just absorb lessons and values. Avraham impressed upon them the need to act upon and even fight for those values.

Students are not usually the ones who go off to battle. Most of us do not fight with weapons. Each and every one of us, though, has a mission. We have orders to follow and battles to win. Our mission is to follow Avraham’s example and stand up for what is right. Our battle is to fight for goodness and respect and kindness. It is a battle to be a mensch, a good person and a good Jew.

We don’t have weapons with which to fight. We have our smiles, our mitzvot, our acts of kindness, and our commitment to do what is right.

Next Friday is Veterans Day. Several years ago, at a Ramaz Veterans Day assembly, Mr. Manny Gross, a veteran and father of Esther Kremer, asked to say a few words. His powerful message was absolutely incredible! (I strongly encourage you to watch it HERE.) Mr. Gross described his army experience. He focused on how he maintained his Judaism throughout his time in the military. He put on tefillin EVERY SINGLE DAY. He described keeping kosher and how he would trade his rations with other soldiers for food that he could eat like crackers, jam, and tuna fish. Mr. Gross is a military veteran as well as a veteran – and a victor – in the battle for Jewish identity and values.

We can learn a lot from our veterans about dedication, purpose, and standing up from what is right. This Veterans Day, coming on the heels of Parshat Lech Lecha, we also remember the Torah’s first veteran, Avraham. We remember that he led his students to battle. Each and every one of us is a student of Avraham. Let’s do our best to fulfill our individual missions and win the battle for what is right.