Remembering The Rav & Listening for the Knock at the Door

Friday was the 31^st yahrzeit of Rabbi Joseph B. Soloveitchik, affectionately referred to as “the Rav” in the Modern Orthodox community.

I never saw the Rav in person. At the same time, as a child of Yeshiva University alumni, a student at MTA, and a card-carrying member of the Yeshiva University branch of the Modern Orthodox world, I grew up knowing all about him. I remember when and where I heard the news of his passing and vividly recall attending his funeral at the Maimonides School in Boston. In the weeks that followed, I attended a series of eulogies given by some two dozen YU rabbis. It struck me then – and now – how no two were the same. The Rav was different things to different people.

One of the Rav’s most famous works is Kol Dodi Dofek. Given first as an address at Yeshiva University on Israel’s Independence Day in 1956, it was later published and translated into English. It discusses God and the Holocaust, the importance of the modern State of Israel and the role of Zionism in American Orthodoxy and has become a classic text of Religious Zionist philosophy.

The title comes from Shir HaShirim (Song of Songs), Chapter 5, Verse 2: 

אֲנִי יְשֵׁנָה וְלִבִּי עֵר קוֹל  דּוֹדִי דוֹפֵק פִּתְחִי־לִי אֲחֹתִי רַעְיָתִי יוֹנָתִי תַמָּתִי שֶׁרֹּאשִׁי נִמְלָא־טָל קְוֻצּוֹתַי רְסִיסֵי לָיְלָה׃

(The maiden relates:) I was asleep, but my heart was awake. Hark, my beloved knocks!
(He says:) Let me in, my darling, my faultless dove! For my head is drenched with dew, my locks with the damp of night.

The Rav goes on to enumerate and elaborate upon six knocks, instances of God’s tangible presence in the recent history of the Jewish people and the emergence of the State of Israel. He also issues a clarion call to American Orthodoxy to embrace the State of Israel and commit itself to its development. The imagery is profound. In the aftermath of the Holocaust, the Jewish nation is in a state of despair. All of a sudden, God “knocks” at the door. Like the maiden in Shir HaShirim, will we listen to the knocks? Will we understand their message and respond?

1)  “First, the knock of opportunity was heard in the political arena. No one can deny that from the standpoint of international relations, the establishment of the State of Israel, in a political sense, was an almost supernatural occurrence.”

2)  “Second, the knocking of the Beloved could be heard on the battlefield. The small Israeli Defense Forces defeated the mighty armies of the Arab countries. The miracle of “the many in the hands of the few” took place before our very eyes.”

3)  “Third, the Beloved began to knock as well on the door of the theological tent, and it may very well be that this is the strongest knock of all…All the claims of Christian theologians that God deprived the Jewish people of its rights in the land of Israel, and that all the biblical promises regarding Zion and Jerusalem refer, in an allegorical sense, to Christianity and the Christian Church, have been publicly refuted by the establishment of the State of Israel and have been exposed as falsehoods, lacking all validity.”

4)  “Fourth, the Beloved is knocking in the hearts of the perplexed and assimilated youths. The era of self-concealment (hastarat panim) at the beginning of the 1940’s resulted in great confusion among the Jewish masses and, in particular, among the Jewish youth…Buried, hidden thoughts and paradoxical reflections emerge from the depths of the souls of even the most avowed assimilationists. And once a Jew begins to think and contemplate, once his sleep is disturbed—who knows where his thoughts will take him, what form of expression his doubts and queries will assume?”

5)  “The fifth knock of the Beloved is perhaps the most important of all. For the first time in the history of our exile, divine providence has surprised our enemies with the sensational discovery that Jewish blood is not free for the taking, is not hefker!”

6)  “The sixth knock, which we must not ignore, was heard when the gates of the land were opened. A Jew who flees from a hostile country now knows that he can find a secure refuge in the land of his ancestors…Now that the era of divine self-concealment (hester panim) is over, Jews who have been uprooted from their homes can find lodging in the Holy Land.”

The Rav challenged Jews in the 1950s to hear God’s “knocks,” realize they were a call to responsibility, and support the State of Israel. We’ve been trying ever since.

The imagery of God’s knocking on our door remains powerful today.

October 7 unleashed a series of challenges and opportunities for the Jewish people. In many ways, we have responded to that knock on our door in our support for Israel, advocacy for the hostages, and maintaining Jewish pride.

This week’s headlines of a dramatic rise in anti-Jewish activity on campuses across America are another knock. The fact that the college campus is not friendly towards Israel is not new. The fact that much of the anti-Israel activity is antisemitic is also sadly not new. What’s increasingly alarming is the acceptance of anti-Israel and anti-Jewish speech and behavior that would not be tolerated if directed against other minorities, groups, or issues. For universities to tolerate students claiming “I am Hamas” or calling the Hamas atrocities of October 7 part of legitimate resistance is criminal. This normalized double standard against Jews is a knock on the door.

What is our reaction? We will not change the minds of those who hate us. We must demand that university leaders enforce their own rules and regulations. Protests must adhere to codes of conduct and those violating the rules must be disciplined. If the universities can’t do it alone, they should call in the police.

Yet even when the rules are followed, we are living in times in which “the genie is out of the bottle” or, more aptly, “the rats are out of the sewer.” It is time for us to embrace our friends and separate from our enemies. Maybe there are campuses Jews should avoid. May 1 is “decision day” for many incoming college students. Based on this week, I wouldn’t encourage saying “yes” to Columbia or Yale. It might even be time to transfer out of these schools for the safer confines of a Brandeis or Yeshiva University.

The media coverage does not describe the lived experience of many Jewish students at schools in which anti-Jewish sentiment is surging. The situation is fluid, and there have always been – and will always be – challenges on the college campus. We must heed Rabbi Soloveitchik’s advice and listen to the “knocks on the door.” The Rav described the knocks after the fact. We should be proactive in hearing the knocks and taking the actions necessary to maintain our Jewish pride and safeguard our Jewish future.

Didn’t We Do the Same Thing Last Year?

Do any of you have a similar reaction to the Seder?

As “Ma nishtana” is recited, I find myself wondering, “Didn’t we ask that last year?”

It’s true. Don’t we do a lot the same way we did it last year? Last generation? Last century?

Judaism encourages repetition.

The Talmud (Chagigah 9b) states: “Hillel taught: one who reviews one’s study 100 times is not comparable to one who reviews one’s study 101 times.” In Talmud study, we place a premium on chazarah, review of what one studies. It’s often easier to move forward, but one only masters the material by chazzering it.

We know from experience that repetition need not be tedious or without benefit. People watch the same shows and movies all the time. Nowadays, there’s a classic sports channel on which people watch old games when they already know who won. Of course, one can rewatch Seinfeld episodes countless times…

Cristel Antonia Russell and Sidney Levy, professors of business and marketing, researched repetition and published, “The Temporal and Focal Dynamics of Volitional Reconsumption: A Phenomenological Investigation of Repeated Hedonic Experiences.” They found four reasons people like reruns or repetitive experiences.

1. The simple reason. Whether it be a movie or an experience, people just enjoy the repetition.

2. The nostalgic reason. Some people feel good remembering the past.

3. The therapeutic reason. Sometimes, people want to watch it or do it again to get it right.

4. The existential reason. Repetition builds on the initial experience, making it more impactful.

We see these four rationales at the Seder. We enjoy the family traditions and the memories from Seders past. We tell the same jokes – that still get a laugh. We keep trying to get the matzah balls cooked just right. We are creating new memories as well as ensuring the next generation is steeped in tradition. We say, “Afilu kulanu chachamim, even if we are all wise.” There is always more to learn, experience, internalize, and grow from the familiar rhythm of the Seder.

Elliott Holt, an author, describes a practice he learned from a friend in which he reads the same poem each day for a month. He writes: “Repetition led to revelation…When you reread the same poem over and over again, you stop scrolling along the surface and dive deep beneath it.” Repetition is about more than quantity. Repetition helps elevate the quality.

Rabbi Jonathan Sacks says something similar about the Haggadah and the Seder experience.

“When I take part in a Seder service on Passover, telling the story of the book of Exodus, I am not engaged in a cultural act like watching a film or reading a book about it. I am enacting it, making it part of me. On Passover, the Exodus ceases to be mere history and becomes memory: not something that happened somewhere else to someone else long ago, but something that is happening to me, here, now. It defines me as part of that story, linking me to a community of others in different places and times. It changes me, for I now know what it feels and tastes like to be oppressed, and I can no longer walk by when others are oppressed. People who have lived the seder service are different for having done so, and the world is different because of them.” (The Great Partnership, p. 172)

This may be why, no matter how many innovations we may think to introduce to the Seder and Haggadah, you can’t beat the real thing.

In 1973, after the Yom Kippur War, Israeli Prime Minister Golda Meir was invited to be the guest of honor at a dinner in New York hosted by the Conference of Presidents of Major American Jewish Organizations. Rabbi Shlomo Riskin was there and witnessed the following exchange. During the dinner, the Prime Minister already looked bored as an unplanned presentation was added to the program. She was given a new copy of Rabbi Mordechai Kaplan’s interpretation of the Haggadah. In this new version, the Egyptian slavery was replaced by the Holocaust, and the State of Israel was center stage as the Israelites travel in the Sinai desert. Mrs. Meir skimmed quickly through the Haggadah and returned it, saying “Thank you very much, but I’m not really interested.”

The American leaders making the presentation were shocked. “But you are not Orthodox, and this new rendition makes the story more relevant for a generation that experienced the horrors of the Holocaust followed by the creation of the State of Israel!”

Golda’s response was priceless: “No, I am not Orthodox, and I never will be. Nevertheless, I do host a Pesach Seder each year, especially for my grandchildren. What is most important to me is that my granddaughter at the Seder uses the same words that my grandmother said at her Seder.”

“How is THIS Pesach different from all other Pesachs?”

This year, it’s a question with a very definitive answer. We feel a heaviness and sadness after the events of October 7, the war against Hamas, tens of thousands of Israelis displaced from the north and south, so many soldiers and civilians killed, the hostages, and, most recently, the attack by Iran. Pesach is not the same for so many that it must be different for all of us. While partaking of the familiar rituals, we will inject them with contemporary insights and feelings. Israeli President Isaac Herzog called on all Jews to have an empty chair at the table to recall the emptiness so many will experience - whether it be physically or emotionally - this year.

Infusing the familiar and repetitive with contemporary spirit is how we ensure Jewish continuity and relevance. Each time we do things the same way but a little differently, we fortify the foundation of our tradition to make sure it lasts forever.

Combatting Lashon Hara: From the Chafetz Chaim to Omer Adam

I don’t repeat lashon hara (evil speech)…
So listen carefully the first time…

The Torah never mentions the words lashon hara nor directly specifies the punishment for speaking it will be the skin affliction called tzara’at, often translated inaccurately as leprosy. It is implied in the story of Miriam speaking ill about Moshe's wife and then being afflicted with tzara'at. Tradition puts one and one together, and tzara'at and lashon ha-ra are forever linked at the hip.

The Talmud and Jewish law briefly describe the details of lashon hara. There are two types – gossip and slander. There are certain exceptions when information needs to be shared. Essentially, the best way to sum up the rules of lashon hara is, essentially, “If you don’t have something nice to say, don’t say anything at all.”

Lashon hara got a big boost of its profile in the writings of Rabbi Yisrael Meir Kagan of Radin (1838-1933), who is better known as the Chafetz Chaim, the title of the book he wrote devoted to the subject of lashon hara. The words mean “one who desires life” and are from Psalm 34: 

מִי־הָאִישׁ הֶחָפֵץ חַיִּים אֹהֵב יָמִים לִרְאוֹת טוֹב׃ נְצֹר לְשׁוֹנְךָ מֵרָע וּשְׂפָתֶיךָ מִדַּבֵּר מִרְמָה׃

“Who is the one who desires life, who desires years of good fortune? Guard your tongue from evil, your lips from deceitful speech.”

Want to live a long life? Watch your tongue.

The Chafetz Chaim’s focus on lashon hara transformed the subject from a mitzvah among many into an ethical focus which has spawned further books, campaigns, and initiatives. It was an important effort as gossip, slander, and all forms of negative speech are so easily spoken. By expounding on the subject within the context of Jewish law – like other aspects of Jewish behavior, the Chafetz Chaim tried to get us to treat lashon hara as seriously as the rest of our Judaism.

Over the past 100 years, the problem has only gotten worse. The rapid expansion of media and now social media has created a reality in which we encounter all types of lashon hara – negative speech and communication that extend far beyond “just” gossip and slander.

The lines between lashon, communication and speech, and lashon hara, negative speech, have become blurry. Besides how this impacts the object of the speech, speaking or hearing lashon hara has a negative impact on us. We become desensitized to the power of words to hurt; we become far less discriminating in how we speak with others; and we become less discerning and more dismissive of views that differ from our own.

In a world of short attention spans suffused with lashon hara, a new effort was needed to combat all the negativity. About 12 years ago, Israeli David Halperin started using the slogan “Lashon Hara Lo Medaber Eilay,” which means lashon hara doesn’t speak to me, as a simple tool to combat all the negative speech out there. The idea is that we are better than the crude, hurtful, and disparaging language that is so prevalent today. He started a campaign based on the slogan complete with ads and stickers that can be seen all over Israel and beyond. The expression speaks to all kinds of audiences from secular to Haredi and has numerous celebrity endorsements.

Omer Adam is an Israeli singer whose music fuses elements of eastern Mizrahi music and Western Pop instrumentation. He has a 2020 song entitled “Lashon Hara Lo Medaber Eilay.” While the lyrics may not be a comprehensive presentation of the laws of lashon hara, the song notes all the noise out there and a desire to focus on the truth and things which matter. We can and must be better.

“Let your eyes look forward, your gaze be straight ahead.” (Mishlei 4:25)

Rabbi Naftali Tzvi Yehuda Berlin, the Netziv, explained this verse teaches us that if you look at someone and first notice a fault, turn your eye inward and look at yourself instead.

Even though it sometimes seems that speaking lashon hara can be satisfying and enjoyable, the truth is that it is exactly the opposite. Speaking lashon hara corrodes our viewpoint, corrodes our relationships, and ultimately corrodes our soul. Avoiding lashon hara creates space for us to appreciate the blessings that we have. Avoiding lashon hara will make us happier people, allowing us to develop our positive dispositions and to strengthen our relationship with God and with others.

Maybe some of the negativity out there is a reflection of ourselves and how we look at things.

The Torah commands us against speaking evil. The Rabbis codified the rules. One hundred years ago, the Chafetz Chaim recognized the need for a crusade. Today, Omer Adam has become the spokesperson (or song-person) to carry the message to the masses that lashon hara must not speak to us. Instead, we must look inwards at the best of our nature so as to see the best in others.

 

Total Eclipse of the Sun

Reservations made? Gas tank filled? Glasses ready?

I mean eclipse glasses of course.

Everyone is getting ready for the total eclipse of the sun taking place on Monday, April 8. (Anyone else have Bonnie Tyler’s song playing in your head now?)

As explained by NASA: A total solar eclipse happens when the Moon passes between the Sun and Earth, completely blocking the face of the Sun. People located in the center of the Moon’s shadow when it hits Earth will experience a total eclipse. The sky will darken, as if it were dawn or dusk. Weather permitting, people in the path of a total solar eclipse can see the Sun’s corona, the outer atmosphere, which is otherwise usually obscured by the bright face of the Sun.

There is a lot of excitement since the zone of “totality,” where it will get completely dark, will be experienced by millions of people across a large swath of the US heading northeast from Texas up through Illinois, Ohio, Upstate New York, Vermont, and Maine. Plenty of people are hitting the road to experience this rare event. (The next one will take place in 2044 and won’t be as accessible.)

All week long, people have been asking how does Judaism view an eclipse? An eclipse actually has deep Jewish historical and theological significance. (See HERE for my recent class on the subject.)

There are a number of Biblical references to eclipses in the Prophets. One notable verse is: And in that day - declares the Sovereign God - I will make the sun set at noon, I will darken the earth on a sunny day. (Amos 8:9) Scholars have suggested that the prophets experienced eclipses and have even identified some historical synchronicity between known eclipses and Biblica accounts.

The Talmud (Sukkah 29a) generally views eclipses in a negative light: “The Sages taught: When the sun is eclipsed it is a bad omen for the entire world.” This may be a function of the terror people felt when it got dark suddenly in the middle of the day. Nowadays, we better understand the science of eclipses and know when they will occur. While some rabbinical authorities maintain the eclipse should prompt prayer and penitence, others say we have nothing to fear from these events as they are part of the natural order.

Is a beracha, blessing, recited when witnessing an eclipse?

While there are blessings recited over natural phenomena such as seeing lightning, hearing thunder, and encountering the wonders of creation, there is no beracha specified for an eclipse. This leads many rabbis to conclude that no beracha should be recited when seeing an eclipse. There is a minority view that blessings over natural phenomena don’t require a precedent or specific instruction. The most common beracha recited over nature is “Oseh ma’aseh bereishit – God Who made the wonders of creation.” If one is inspired when witnessing the eclipse and wants to acknowledge God, then this beracha may be recited. (Ask your local Rabbi!)

Blessing or no blessing, a total eclipse of the sun brings us face to face with the beauty, glory, and complexity of creation. It should excite us! We may not all decide to pack up the car, drive for hours, and make overpriced motel reservations to experience the zone of totality, but we should, at least, mark the occasion through a religious prism.

On June 29, 1927, there was a total solar eclipse visible in Eastern Europe. An account was published of how Rabbi Yisrael Meir Kagan of Radin, better known as the Chafetz Chaim, reacted to the event:

“And the Chafetz Chaim taps again with his right hand on the table with an expression of victory, and smiling he adds, “They should come to see. It is a mitzvah to see the sun eclipsed, to actually see that a creation was actually formed by the Creator…And he taps lightly again with his right hand, a quiet smile... [they] had already prepared for the Chafetz Chaim, a special triply thick, darkened pair of glasses which properly fit the good and trustworthy eyes of the holy and vaunted elder. The righteous one does this [looking at the eclipse] with holy trepidation, exactly as he would silently gaze at his chanukiah, from it he does not remove his eyes so long as there are sparkling remnants of oil…And behold the darkness has eclipsed the entire sphere, as if a large well of ink has spilled and filled the space … a strange darkness, not that of the twilight nor even like the thick darkness of night…Behold, a black curtain has been stretched on the face of the Sun; there remains not even one red streak. And behold the Wonder. Behold, behold, once again, born is the new sun — like the six days of creation…”

Rabbi Benjamin Blech views an eclipse as a religious message while also noting the similarity between how we watch an eclipse and a well-known Jewish ritual:

“An eclipse may be an omen but it is not a verdict or a final judgment. It is a moment in time which serves as a reminder of God’s awesome power and goodness…The awesome message of an eclipse and its meaning for us has a remarkable parallel to a universal Jewish custom. It is extremely important, NASA and other experts tell us, that we cover our eyes and not look directly at the sun when it happens. Failure to heed this counsel could lead to blindness. I cannot help but think of the very same admonition to cover our eyes when we recite the Shema. At the moment when we contemplate God’s uniqueness and greatness we indicate that His splendor is beyond the capacity of our vision; to think we truly see His essence with the limited perspective of our eyes is to be blind to the reality of His infinite magnificence.”

An eclipse, like the Chanukah lights, is holy. In times of chaos, it provides us with a few moments to close our eyes and reorient ourselves towards the Godly and good of the world around us and inspire us to do our share to live up to that potential.