Whether to Tikun or Not to Tikun is Not Even a Question

The Tikun Leyl Shavuot all-night Torah study is a mainstay of Shavuot programming.

Why?

On one level, it is intuitive to maximize and optimize the amount of Torah we study on the holiday which commemorates our receiving the Torah in the first place. But why stay up all night? We find two sources in rabbinic literature for the practice. Staying up all night on Shavuot can be a virtue or, on the other hand, it may be to repair a mistake our ancestors made 3,335 years ago.

The Zohar (Emor 35) states:

“The ancient pious ones would not sleep on that night but would study the Torah and say “Let us come take possession of the inheritance holy to us and our children….” That night, the Congregation of Yisrael is adorned, and comes to couple with the King…. R. Shimon said thus when fellows gathered with him that night: “Let us come to affix [le-takna] the jewels of the bride so that tomorrow she will be found in her jewels and her adornments for the King, as is fitting.”

Staying up all night is the natural reaction to the enthusiasm we feel towards Torah. The “tikun” is a proactive enhancement showing our love of Torah.

Alternatively, the Midrash (Shir HaShirim Rabbah 1:12) recounts:

“Israel slept all that night because sleep on Shavuot is sweet and the night is short…God came and found them asleep. He began to approach them with noises. That is what is written ‘And it was on the third day when it was morning and there were sounds and lightning’ (Shemot 19:16)…Rav Yitzchak said: This is what they are criticized for by Yeshaya (50:2)), as it is said, ‘Why did I come and there is no man, I called and there is no response…’”

The “tikun” is a correction, a repair for our ancestors’ drowsiness. (Alas, we also find a precedent for those who sleep during the rabbi’s sermon…)

Shavuot is as good a time as any to recognize “eilu v’eilu divrei Elokim chaim – both views represent the words of the Living God.” Like many Jewish practices, a variety of sources are part of the greatness and complexity of Torah and Judaism.

With regards to Tikun Leyl Shavuot, it is less about whether one stays up all night, half the night, or goes to sleep early. On Shavuot, what matters is we embrace the opportunity to study Torah.

Maybe we regularly study all year long. On Shavuot, study a little more. Add a little tikkun, an extra adornment, to that learning. Try a new book or topic; explore a tough question; try and understand a different perspective. Maybe we’re less regular in our Torah study year-round. On Shavuot, make a tikun, correct that, and be sure to study. Attend one of the classes offered, read a Dvar Torah sheet, explore something on your own.

There is a halakhic definition of a Jew: one who is born to a Jewish mother or converts to Judaism. There are other “definitions” that, while not technical, capture the essence of being Jewish. For example, “one is Jewish if one’s grandchildren are Jewish.” It’s not enough to be a Jew. One needs to ensure Judaism passes into the future. I think a Jew is someone who seeks to grow – grow in knowledge, grow in spirit, grow in kindness. Shavuot is the holiday of Jewish growth. The tikun is our chance to fuel our minds and souls with Torah, the source.

Rabbi Jonathan Sacks noted:

“I am a Jew because I cherish the Torah, knowing that God is to be found not in natural forces but in moral meanings, in words, texts, teachings and commands, and because Jews, though they lacked all else, never ceased to value education as a sacred task, endowing the individual with dignity and depth.”

This Shavuot, we should ask ourselves questions like: Why am I a Jew? What do I find in Torah study? Am I putting in the time and effort to expand my horizons?

Answering these questions while learning some Torah may be an all-night endeavor for some. For all of us, Shavuot provides an opportunity for tikun, for studying some Torah, exploring the foundations of faith, and committing to being Jewish by growing in all the ways that we can.

Don’t forget the cheesecake…

We Are Family!

You never know who you might be sitting next to on an airplane. This week, a selfie of Rabbi Yosef Tzvi Rimon and Noa Kirel went viral. Their encounter is a reminder of what it means to be part of the Jewish family.

Suffice it to say the two don’t run in the same circles. Rabbi Rimon is the Chief Rabbi of Gush Etzion with a huge following among Religious Zionists worldwide. He is known for his accessibility in responding to questions via WhatsApp. Noa Kirel, a 21-year-old pop star and IDF veteran from Raanana, finished third in this year’s Eurovision competition. They were seated next to each other on a plane from London to Tel Aviv.

Rabbi Rimon was puzzled when a message on the plane’s TV screens read, “Well done, Noa. We’re proud of you.” He asked his seatmate why congratulations were in order and to whom. She explained her Eurovision experience, surprised he didn’t recognize her. (I guess the rabbi has a different taste in music.) Rabbi Rimon texted his family that the two got to talking. Noa remarked that she had prayed at the contest and abstained from using her phone on Shabbat. Rabbi Rimon offered himself as a rabbinic resource in the future, and Kirel took his information, sending him their picture as a first communication.

It's always nice to have a celebrity sighting, but this “Rabbi meets pop star” is more than that. Here, we have two Jews meeting on airplane. Many people I know would only recognize Rabbi Rimon in the picture. Many others would only recognize Noa. Rabbi Rimon and Noa Kirel did not know each other. They hadn’t heard of each other. Nevertheless, there was a bond between them: Shabbat and the prayers of Shabbat were things they had in common. As a colleague noted: “Basically, you have a leading rabbi and celebrity who don’t know each other sitting next to each other on the plane, bridging segments of Israel and appreciating the greatness of the other.”

We are family.

“L’mishpechotam – According to families” (Bamidbar 1:2) Time and again, as the Jews are counted throughout the Book of Numbers, the counting is done according to the family. There are many laws and lessons learned from how and how often the Jews are counted. Each time, though, we are reminded of the essential role that family plays. We know it to be true. Sometimes, however, family bonds become frayed, and the importance of a strong family connection is challenged.

In 1974, Rabbi Menachem Mendel Schneerson, the Lubavitcher Rebbe addressed the importance the family connection. He noted there are times that family members choose different paths. They may attend different shuls or have different approaches to Judaism. It is essential to find a unifying element. The Rebbe suggests that Shabbat unites, in particular the Shabbat meal. That is the time for the family connection to be strengthened regardless of the different choices made the rest of the week. It is noteworthy that Shabbat was a unifying feature in Noa Kirel’s encounter with Rabbi Rimon.

L’mishpechotam is repeated so many times because the family connection we have – with family and with others – can never be taken for granted. This relationship is stronger than any differences that exist in our thinking or actions. Professor Yedidia Stern of the Israel Democracy Institute recently spoke at a conference in Jerusalem about the divisions in Israeli society. He invoked the popular saying, “United we stand; divided we fall.” He remarked that is possible to stand divided. Families are often divided. We should lean into our divisions – so long as we remember that we are family.

The Jewish emphasis on family informs our sense of responsibility even beyond our immediate family.

Abdullah Abu Jaba, a Palestinian laborer from Gaza, was killed last week in a rocket attack while working near the southern Israel border town of Shokeda. He was one of 18,000 Gazans who have permits to work in Israel. Hundreds were believed trapped in Israel when the IDF launched its operation in response to Palestinian rocket fire, and the border crossings were shut. This week, Israel announced that Abu Jaba will be recognized by the state as a victim of terror, which will entitle his family to state benefits, consisting of payments to his widow and children. It is the right thing to do.

Contrast Israel’s action with the Palestinians ignoring Abu Jaba. Writing in the The Spectator, Stephen Daisley notes that nobody in the press seems to want to write how the Palestinian terrorists don’t care about their own people. There are stories about the rockets and Iron Dome and those killed – with extra coverage for civilians killed in Gaza. There is no coverage of Abdullah Abu Jaba. Daisley writes:

“Major media outlets will not compete to tell human-interest stories about how he played with his children or how his family will cope without him. No U.S. congressmen or British MPs will demand justice for him. Palestinians are killed in Israeli air strikes, too…The difference is that Palestinians inadvertently killed by Israel quickly become faces of the conflict while you have to turn to page 27 and scan another dozen paragraphs to learn about Palestinians killed by Palestinian terrorism.”

We are family. Our family bonds provide commonalities even when we haven’t heard of each other. The role family plays in connecting us to other Jews trickles down into our sense of responsibility towards others, towards strangers.

The world needs far more “l’mishpechotam,” and we must keep our family-ness front and center. It’s OK to be divided as long as we remember we are family.

A $50 Million Bible & True Value

It is the “Earliest Most Complete Hebrew Bible,” and it is expected to fetch $30-50 million dollars at auction. I am talking about the Codex Sassoon, which is on display at Sotheby’s until the auction next Wednesday. (Please spell my name correctly on the card if you buy it for me…)

A codex is the historical ancestor of the modern book. Instead of being composed of sheets of paper, it is made up of sheets of papyrus, animal skin or other materials. The term is most often used for ancient manuscript books with handwritten contents. The Codex Sassoon consists of the two dozen books of the Hebrew Bible, 792 pages made from several hundred sheepskins. It dates to around the year 900, and it is nearly complete, missing only 15 chapters out of the 929 in Tanach. There are other codices out there including the famous Aleppo Codex, which is arguably more accurate, but it is also far less complete.

Where does the Codex Sassoon come from?

Notes on the manuscript attest to its past. A man named Khalaf ben Abraham gave it to Isaac ben Ezekiel al-Attar, who gave it to his sons Ezekiel and Maimon. It later migrated to the town of Makisin in northeast Syria, where it was dedicated to a synagogue in the 13th century. Sometime in the following decades, the synagogue was destroyed, and the codex was entrusted to Salama ibn Abi al-Fakhr until the synagogue would be rebuilt. It never was.

Its whereabouts for the next 500 years remain uncertain until it resurfaced in Frankfurt, Germany, in 1929 and was purchased by David Solomon Sassoon, a Bombay-born son of an Iraqi Jewish business magnate who possessed a massive collection of Jewish books and manuscripts.

Sassoon’s estate was broken up after he died and the codex was sold by Sotheby’s in Zurich in 1978 to the British Rail Pension Fund for around $320,000. The pension fund did quite well when it flipped the Codex Sassoon eleven years later. It was auctioned off for $3.19 million and then purchased immediately afterward by Jacqui Safra, a banker and art collector, for $4.2 million. He is now ready to sell the codex once again.

As I stood in line on Tuesday waiting to get a closeup look at the Codex Sassoon (and take the requisite pictures), I started wondering, “What’s the big deal?” The codex is a like a big, old Chumash. It might be important, but we have all this information already. Our Biblical textual tradition is solid, and it won’t change now if something different might be found in the pages of the codex. Aren’t there more important causes on which to spend $50,000,000? That kind of money could go a long way in supporting Jewish education. Why is the Codex Sassoon so important?

There are some good reasons why the Codex elicits such enthusiasm and will fetch a high price. We cherish the Torah and value Jewish learning and knowledge. The Codex Sassoon is a big – 25 pounds big – cornerstone of Jewish learning. Call it a crown jewel in our literature, and crown jewels are expensive.

“Codex Sassoon is a transformative witness to how the Hebrew Bible has influenced the pillars of civilization – art, culture, law, politics – for centuries.” This quote is from Sharon Mintz, Senior Judaica Specialist, Books and Manuscripts at Sotheby’s. While it is her “business” to tout the importance of such items, there is something exhilarating and empowering in seeing our tradition reflected back at us in a work that is 1,200 years old. There is talk that the final sale price of the codex will exceed the record $42.3 million paid for a copy of the U.S. Constitution. That would be nachas! We always invoke Jewish continuity. Well, here is Jewish continuity in the flesh! (Or sheepskin…)

Another value-added aspect of the Codex Sassoon is the fact that we have it at all. It was missing for 500 years, and then it came back. There is no better story of survival than the story of the Jewish people. The reappearance of the codex after centuries is a tangible example not to count the Jews or Judaism out. It’s more than continuity. It’s the possibility of miraculous rebirth and a case study in never giving up.

The Codex Sassoon is pretty cool. It was worth waiting in line to see a piece of our history that exemplifies Jewish learning, tradition, influence, and survival. I still can’t wrap my head around the price tag. Maybe if the purchaser donates the Codex Sassoon to a Jewish institution or the State of Israel or makes a simultaneous donation of similar magnitude to Jewish life. The codex is great and interesting, but it’s not real. It’s a tangible relic of the Jewish past, but it takes real-liveJews to make Judaism come alive.

Today, I attended the funeral of my great-uncle, Fred Goldschmidt, z”l. He passed away on his 95^th birthday and lived a full life of piety, family, devotion, and community. He was the youngest of four siblings – my grandfather being the oldest. The family fled Germany, marking the end of 200 years of the family’s presence in their small village near Frankfort. Uncle Freddy was just ten years old, and the Nazi rise and Kirstallnacht left an indelible mark on his life. He was deprived of a Jewish education, so he became chairman of a day school. He saw synagogues burned, so he became a Shul president and a daily worshipper. He experienced family disruption, so he built a growing, loving family who carry on his values.

The Codex Sassoon contains the teachings of our faith. We need to be the ones who live those teachings and values. The words on the page need to come to life. Viewing the Codex Sassoon or even buying it is an experience. Living purposeful Jewish lives is a true legacy.

The Codex Sassoon is worth $30-50 million. Living Jewish values is priceless. 

Responding to the Loneliness Epidemic

Just when you thought it was safe to go back in the water…

This morning, I received a news alert saying, “WHO says Covid-10 is no longer a global health emergency.” Hooray!  It’s just that earlier this week, the U.S. Surgeon General declared a loneliness epidemic.

Dr. Vivek Murthy announced the release of “Our Epidemic of Loneliness and Isolation,” an 81-page report from the Department of Health and Human Services. Murthy noted that about half of U.S. adults say they've experienced loneliness and that social isolation’s effects on mortality are equivalent to smoking up to 15 cigarettes every day.

The surgeon general called for changes that will boost the country's connectedness. People should join community groups and put down their phones when they're catching up with friends; employers should think carefully about their remote work policies; and health systems should provide training for doctors to recognize the health risks of loneliness. “There's really no substitute for in-person interaction,” Murthy said. “As we shifted to use technology more and more for our communication, we lost out on a lot of that in-person interaction. How do we design technology that strengthens our relationships as opposed to weaken them?”

Judaism knows this to be true. “It is not good for humans to be alone.” (Bereishit 2:18) Judaism also provides strategies to respond: We face loneliness, and we fight loneliness.

In The Lonely Man of Faith (pp. 4-5), Rabbi Joseph Soloveitchik faces his loneliness:

“I am lonely because, in my humble, inadequate way, I am a man of faith for whom to be means to believe…Apparently, in this role as a man of faith, I must experience a sense of loneliness which is of a compound nature.”

The Rav describes having friends and family, yet still feeling lonely. It is an existential loneliness, a realization that we need to strive to move beyond our current condition. There is always a deeper level of faith or knowledge to explore. We are lonely. That is a fact, yet it need not define us or cause us to despair. It is a place from which we can grow.  

Rabbi Menachem Mendel Schneerson, the late Lubavitcher Rebbe, wrote a letter to a young person who complained of feeling lonely while studying away from home. The Rebbe encouraged the student to take the bull by the horns and to proactively seek out friends. He invoked the teaching of Yehoshua ben Perachiah (Avot 1:6) to “acquire a friend.” One might find companionship without effort, but, when one feels lonely, get out there and connect with someone else.

Judaism also fights loneliness by placing a premium on being there for someone else. This has a powerful impact on both the lonely individual and the one who steps forward to ease the loneliness of others.

Last week, at the opening plenary of the World Orthodox Israel Congress in Jerusalem, Natan Sharansky spoke, and he mentioned that he really found religion while in prison in the Soviet Union. He used Tehillim for comfort and strength, and it was in the gulag that he fully understood the verse in Psalm 23, “Lo ira ra ki ata imadi - I shall fear no evil, for You are with me.” Sharansky said that in prison he understood the word “ata” as referring to not only Hashem, but also to the Jewish People. He gained much strength when he realized that he was not alone, that he was never alone.

Loneliness can be overcome when people step up to be there for other people. We must be the “ata”’s for others. We must be sensitive to situations when we can fill the emptiness someone feels and seize opportunities to be of assistance and make people feel connected. If society is suffering from a loneliness epidemic, we can provide an antidote by connecting and assuring each other that, even if it may feel like it, we are never really alone.

Shlomo Carlebach loved the teachings of Reb Kalonymus Kalmish of Piacenza, also known as the Rebbe of the Warsaw Ghetto. He desperately wanted to meet one of the Piacenza’s students. Finally, near the beach in Tel Aviv, he happened upon an old hunchback Jew sweeping the street, and he had a premonition.

Reb Shlomo said: “Reb Yid, where are you from?” The hunchback said, “Piacezna.”

Shlomo was thrilled and asked the old Jew to share a teaching of the Rebbe.

The old man replied, “Look at me. I spent five years in Auschwitz. I am broken. I have nothing. Do you think I remember any of those teachings?”

Shlomo said, "Yes. The words of the holy Rebbe penetrate you forever."

He stopped sweeping. He looked at me and said, "Do you really want to know?" 

“Please share with me something that you learned from the rabbi! Whatever you tell me I shall tell all over the world,” Rabbi Carlebach begged.

After some coaxing, the hunchback replied, “This is what the rabbi said to us over and over again: ‘The greatest thing in the world is to do somebody else a favor!’”

The man continued, “I’m here in Tel Aviv and I have no one in the world. Sometimes I’m at my end, but then I hear my rabbi’s voice saying, ‘The greatest thing in the world is to do somebody else a favor.’ A person can do favors anywhere at any time. Do you know how many favors you can do on the streets of the world?”

The greatest thing in the world is to do somebody else a favor.

There is loneliness. There is an epidemic of loneliness. There is the loneliness we, at times, feel, and the loneliness faced by others. Our loneliness can be the characteristic that motivates us to be more than we currently are, and we are the ones that can help ease someone else’s loneliness. If we don’t have someone to connect to, create the opportunity to connect with others. Call a friend you haven’t spoken to in a while. Reach out to a shul member you don’t know. Volunteer with an organization that matches people with those who can use a call or visit.

Our awareness that loneliness exists coupled with the commitment to ease it for ourselves and others is exactly how we counter the loneliness epidemic.