Tefillin on Death Row, Second Chances, and Seizing the Moment

What kind of scene does this picture describe?

This is a picture of Rabbi Dovid Goldstein, director of Chabad-Lubavitch of West Houston, Texas, and Jedidiah Murphy, a death-row inmate in a West Livingston, Texas prison.  (Guess which one is which. J) 

The story was covered in the Jewish press, and there is longer story about this subject on Chabad's website.  Rabbi Goldstein enabled Murphy, convicted for killing a 79-year-old woman, to lay tefillin for the first time.  It was not easy to arrange as state law prevents death row inmates from having direct contact with their visitors.  Goldstein provided the tefillin and a kippah for Murphy and instructed him through the glass.  Rabbi and prisoner celebrated the “Bar Mitzvah” with chips and soft drinks from the nearby vending machine.

(This was not Goldstein’s first time putting tefillin on a death-row inmate.  In 2013, he helped Douglas Feldman put on tefillin one week before being executed by lethal injection.  That time, he was allowed direct contact with the prisoner since the tefillin were considered part of his last rites.)

What can we take away from a story like this?

There are Jewish criminals…Chabad is dedicated to every single Jew…It’s never too late to perform a mitzvah…

I find myself thinking about how we approach second chances.  Murphy never had a Bar Mitzvah or a chance to act in a Jewish way.  It took a death-row encounter with a truly dedicated rabbi to create this mitzvah moment.  Often, we seek out second chances in moments of extremis.  We repent in time for Yom Kippur or we try to spend more time with someone after not spending time with them earlier.  As the saying goes, “Better late than never…”

Why can’t there be more opportunities to seize the moment?  How about more positively-induced second chances?  We could each benefit from proactively wanting to do all these good things because they are too good to miss out on, and we want to experience them again.

Do you remember the Life Saver commercial in which a father and his daughter are sitting watching a beautiful sunset.  As the last of the light disappears beneath the horizon, the dad says, “Going...going...going...gone!”  And then the girl says, “Do it again, Daddy!” 

There are so many things we should try to experience again because they are just so special and awesome that, heck, why not?  We don’t need to wait until the last minute – or when it is too late – to try and spend more time with our family or enjoy the beautiful weather or read that book or try that new experience.

We may not be able to make the sun set again, and we, most certainly, don’t want to need to be in an extreme situation to push us to perform a mitzvah.  For now, as we start a New Year, let’s think about all the positive experiences - for religious and personal growth or spending time with family or just doing wonderful things – we can grab. 

Rosh Hashanah Renovations

It is so obvious, yet I never really noticed!

 

A few weeks ago, Tal Ohana, mayor of Yerucham in the south of Israel, spoke at Seudah Shlishit.  She shared some of the transformative initiatives taking place in her community and, since it was Shabbat, she also shared a Dvar Torah. 

She quoted Rabbnit Yemima Mizrachi, a very popular Israeli educator, who said that, on Rosh Hashanah, we should choose a new mitzvah to take on, and we should also identify something to improve.  This is because we sound the shofar, which is related to the word shippur, which means improvement.

Shofar (שופר) – shippur (שיפור).  Elevate and renovate.

This connection is noted in the Midrash (Tehillim 81):

תקעו בחדש שופר. רבנן אמרי חדשו מעשיכם ושפרו מעשיכם ואני מכסה על עונותיכם...

           

Blow the shofar at the time of the new month (Rosh Hashanah). The Rabbis said that, on Rosh Hashanah, God says to the Jewish people: Renew one’s actions and improve one’s actions, and I will overlook your sins.

The blowing of the shofar serves as a wake-up call to introspection and improvement of one’s relationship with God and man.  The shofar is a call to shippur – to self-improvement, to renovation, and to innovation.

Which new mitzvah can we take on? Which mitzvah can we improve? Which connection can we strengthen?  What can we innovate?

I have always loved the explanation of why the altar in the Temple was reached by way of a ramp and not steps.  When climbing a ramp, one must constantly exert effort to stand in the same place let alone ascend.  A Jew is someone who is always growing, striving, and improving.

As we hear the shofar this Rosh Hashanah, let’s all imagine how we can all celebrate, innovate, and renovate in our lives during the coming year.  

Shanah tovah!

Never Forget Plus Always Remember

Tonight, we will begin our commemoration of Yom HaShoah, Holocaust Remembrance Day.  In a world so full of hatred and violence against Jews, philosopher Emil Fackenheim’s “614th mitzvah” to ensure Hitler never wins is more important than ever.  He wrote:

... we are, first, commanded to survive as Jews, lest the Jewish people perish.  We are commanded, secondly, to remember in our very guts and bones the martyrs of the Holocaust, lest their memory perish.  We are forbidden, thirdly, to deny or despair of God, however much we may have to contend with him or with belief in him, lest Judaism perish.  We are forbidden, finally, to despair of the world as the place which is to become the kingdom of God, lest we help make it a meaningless place in which God is dead or irrelevant and everything is permitted.  To abandon any of these imperatives, in response to Hitler's victory at Auschwitz, would be to hand him yet other, posthumous victories. (To Mend the World, p. 213)

While some take issue with using the terminology of mitzvah in relation to specifically responding to the Holocaust, Fackenheim essentially reinforces important Jewish principles of memory, continuity, optimism, and Jewish pride.  These are certainly critical tenets of our identity.

Often, on Yom HaShoah, we invoke the words, “Never forget.”  It sometimes seems unnecessary.  How can the world forget the atrocities of the Shoah?  Maybe there are some ardent deniers, the insane, and anti-Semites who deny the Holocaust, but how can anybody forget?

Many have.

A study commissioned last year by the Claims Conference found that 31% of all Americans and 41% of Millennials believe that substantially less than 6 million Jews were killed (two million or fewer) during the Holocaust.  In addition, while there were over 40,000 concentration camps and ghettos in Europe during the Holocaust, 45% of Americans cannot name a single one – and this percentage is even higher amongst Millennials.

Obviously, these numbers are different in our community.  At the same time, can we be so sure that we won’t forget even a little bit?  The number of survivors is dwindling, and it seems that fewer and fewer communities can draw large crowds for Yom HaShoah events. 

I believe that we need to place as much emphasis on Fackenheim’s second directive of his 614^th commandment:

...to remember in our very guts and bones the martyrs of the Holocaust, lest their memory perish.  

We need to find ways to actively remember and incorporate the memories and legacies of those who were murdered as well as those who survived into our very beings.

Never forget will never be enough.  We need to actively, passionately, and forcefully remember.

“EVEN WHEN THINGS ARE GOING WELL, REMEMBER THE SHOAH” – Yaakov

The above message was crafted by Yaakov Weinberger, a Holocaust survivor from Hungary who made his way to Israel.  He posted this sign all over his city of Nahariya and was dedicated to disseminating this message to all.  Yaakov believed it was forbidden to be silent, and he felt that it is not enough to “Never forget.”  People must internalize the Shoah as part of their being and always – always – remember.

Yaakov Weinberger went even further to encourage people to remember.  He and his wife legally changed their last name from Weinberger to Weinberger-HaShisha, explaining that “HaShisha” (the Six) was being added to “identify with the six million sacrifices of the Shoah.”  From then on, any time someone was introduced to Yaakov, they would remember the legacy of the Shoah.

We must never forget.  We must also always remember.  We need to introduce the stories and lessons of the Holocaust into our everyday lives, our dinner table discussions, and, in particular, find ways to share these with those outside our immediate circle.  Seek out the stories of survivors you know or explore the many stories available online.  (See HERE for full length testimonies of survivors collected by the USC Shoah Foundation.)

One way to reinforce the need to remember and feel the urgency in sharing these stories is to see ourselves, in a way, as survivors.

Rabbi Israel Meir Lau describes meeting NYC Mayor Ed Koch in the early 1980’s:

…He is a warm Jew, sensitive and emotional, a great lover of Israel and the Jewish people.  At our first meeting, he introduced himself to me and declared that he was also a Holocaust survivor.  Out of politeness, I refrained from asking him what exactly he survived and where he had been during the Second World War.  I wanted to give him a chance to tell his story himself.  He said that he had been born in the Bronx and had lived his whole life in New York, but insisted that he was a real survivor.  Smiling, I dared to ask how that could be - and Ed Koch began to explain.

Years earlier, he had traveled to Germany for an educational trip.  At one of the stops, the guide showed the group the globe that had sat on Hitler’s desk.  “It reminded me of Charlie Chaplain’s movie about the great dictator.  But unlike the one in Chaplain’s movie,” Koch recounted, “that big globe had lots of numbers written on it in black marker…The guide explained that when World War II broke out, Hitler recorded the Jewish population of each country.  After all, they represented his life’s goal. Albania, for example, bore the number 1 for the single Jew living there…The territory of the United States bore the number six million. That includes me,” said Ed Koch with undisguised anger.  “So I am also a Holocaust survivor-if the Allies hadn’t stopped the Nazi beast, no doubt I would have been destroyed.”

I shook his hand warmly and said, “Today I have learned an important lesson from you, and I will carry it home with me to Israel.  I’ve heard that not all Jewish communities feel a connection to Holocaust Day. From now on, I’ll tell them about the Jew born in New York who lived all his life in an American city, but who feels like a Holocaust survivor…”  (Out of the Depths, p. 241-242)

Each of us is connected enough to the Holocaust so as to feel compelled to “Never forget” while, at same time, to “Always remember!”

This way, we can keep alive the memory of what happened while also incorporating the legacy of the Holocaust into a meaningful present and ensuring a vibrant future.

Lulav, Maggid & the Power of Stories

I bet you’re thinking, “Wrong holiday.”  What does the lulav have to do with Pesach?

The Talmud (Sukkah 11b) raises the issue of “lulav tzarich egged,” the lulav needs a handle to bind it together with the hadasim (myrtles) and aravot (willows).  The word “egged” contains the root which means to bring together or to unite.

That root also has a prominent place at our Pesach Seder table during Maggid, the part of the Seder when we recount and try to recreate the story of our exodus from Egypt.

Maggid has two purposes.  One is “egged,” all Jews read the same text containing similar facts and details about a shared experience.  The other is “l’haggid,” to tell stories, to jump off the page and share our own personal understanding and familial experiences.  We all read the story of the rabbis having a Seder in Bnei Brak.  Each of us, though, knows and tells our own personal favorite Seder stories.  What is your favorite Pesach memory?  Where did your great-grandfather celebrate Pesach?  Remember the time we couldn’t fine the afikoman? 

Jews are called “the people of the book,” but one can also say that we are “the people of the story.”  Judaism is about religion, law, and theology, and Judaism is also about transmitting our individual and communal narrative.  Rav Kook notes the role of both stories and law in the Torah. He calls the experiences of the patriarchs and matriarchs, “Torat Avot,” and we learn about our responsibilities and law in “Torat Moshe.”

Pesach, with its sippur yetzias mitzraim obligation of telling the Exodus story, is our annual festival of stories.  We reconnect with our ability to tell, teach, and transmit stories.  We get in touch with our inner child and our ability to get excited over how the story will still end.  We remember that stories have a unique power to inform and to inspire, to fascinate and to educate.

Stories help guarantee our future.

A story is told of two rabbis competing for the position of Rabbi of an important Jewish community in Easter Europe.  One was a famed scholar of halakhah, while the other, while also a scholar, was more well-known for his knowledge of Jewish history.

The scholar made his claim in being the superior candidate by claiming, “I know the whole Torah.  Even if others forget or don’t have the books, I can ensure Torah will be remembered.”  The other rabbi also made his case for deserving the position.  He said, “I am an expert in the telling of the story of the Jewish people.  If we know and teach the story, Judaism will never be forgotten.”

The second Rabbi got the job.  Stories are key to Jewish survival.

Here is another of my favorite stories which demonstrate the power of stories.

The holy Baal Shem-Tov loved his people.  Whenever he sensed they were in danger, he would go to a secret place in the woods, light a special fire, and say a special prayer.  Then, without fail, his people would be saved from danger.  The Baal Shem-Tov passed on and his disciple, the Magid of Mezritch, came to lead the people.  Whenever he sensed his people were in danger, he would go to the secret place in the woods. "Dear God," he would say, “I don't know how to light the special fire, but I know the special prayer.  Please let that be good enough.”  It was, and the people would once again be saved from danger.

When the Magid passed on, he was succeeded by Rabbi Moshe Leib of Sasov, and whenever he heard that his people were in danger, he would go to the secret place in the woods.  "Dear God," he would say, "I don't know how to make the special fire, I don't know how to say the special prayer, but I know this secret place in the woods.  Please let that be good enough."  It was, and the people would once again be saved from danger.

When Rabbi Moshe passed, he was succeeded by Rabbi Israel of Rizhyn, and whenever somebody told him that his people were in danger, he didn't even get out of his armchair.  He could only bow his head and shrug his shoulders.  "Dear God," he would pray, "I don't know how to make the special fire. I don't know how to say the special prayer.  I don't even know the secret place in the woods.  All I know is the story, and I'm hoping that's good enough."  It was, and his people would be saved.

Stories have tremendous value.  As we gather around the Seder table, let’s tell some of the greatest stories ever told.  It may not be enough, but it is an essential step in the right direction for today.

More Mishloach Manot!

What is the first thing you think of when you hear the words Mishloach Manot (Purim gifts of food)?

I have a whole rush of memories of little bottles of grape juice, baskets in cellophane, Purim day delivery runs, and going through baskets looking for the “good stuff” while tossing aside whatever I didn’t like.  The Mishloach Manot operation (or as we call it – Shaloch Manos) was truly a highlight of Purim.  It’s not the same anymore when there are projects for which you check off names, and receive one big basket (no matter how nice it is).

The Rambam teaches (Laws of Megillat Esther 2:15) that it is praiseworthy to send more Mishloach Manot than the obligatory gift to one friend.  At the same time, he writes (2:17):

One should rather spend more money on gifts to the poor than on his Purim banquet and presents to his friends. No joy is greater and more glorious than the joy of gladdening the hearts of the poor, the orphans, the widows, and the strangers…

While the Rambam is absolutely right that helping those in need far outweighs giving more food to friends, I am convinced that, today, we need more Mishloach Manot.

The source of the mitzvah of Mishloach Manot is Esther 9:19:

וּמִשְׁלוֹחַ מָנוֹת אִישׁ לְרֵעֵהוּ

Send portions of food from one friend to another.

The verse states that portions of food (plural) must be sent from one friend to another.  From here, we learn the familiar requirement of sending two kinds of food to, at least, one person.  (The need for the foods to be different blessings is actually not required.)

We might be done with this mitzvah except for the fact that there is an interesting halakhic debate whether the primary purpose of the mitzvah is on the Mishloach Manot, sending the food, or whether the mitzvah focuses on Ish L’Ray-ay-hoo, the friendship between the sender and recipient.

What difference does it make?  Actually, quite a bit.

If the mitzvah is all about the food, what happens if the recipient doesn’t like the food in the package?  If it’s about friendship, does the food even matter?  Or my favorite technicality: If Mishloach Manot is all about the food, then if I receive food but don’t know who it’s from, the mitzvah is fulfilled.  If it’s about creating feelings of friendship, then there is no mitzvah if the sender cannot be identified.

Which is more important? 

I like a nice Purim treat as much as the next person, but, today, we need much more focus on friendship.

The Rambam is correct.  We don’t need to go overboard on Mishloach Manot - sending gifts of food to friends.  Yet, we do need a lot more Ish L’Ray-ay-hoo – we need to increase as much as we possibly can the feelings of friendship between people.  

It’s getting nasty out there.

A recent column quoted a study that found that just over 42% of the people in each party view the opposition as “downright evil.”  This suggests that 48.8 million voters out of the 136.7 million who cast ballots in 2016 believe that members of opposition party are in league with the devil.  Furthermore, some 20% of Democrats (that’s 12.6 million voters) and 16% of Republicans (7.9 million voters) do think on occasion that the country would be better off if large numbers of the opposition died.

It’s getting really nasty out there.

We need more Mishloach Manot. 

We need more gestures of friendship, kindness, and civility.  We need more exchanges of ideas, opinions, and thoughts that don’t devolve into arguments.  We need more opportunities to tone down the very real differences that divide us and gather around a cup of coffee or a meal and find the many things that we do share.

Purim is all about our encounter with others.  We read the Megillah in public.  We gather around the table with others for the Seudah (festive meal).  We give gifts of food to others, and we share with others in need. 

All of Purim is a timely reminder of the need to be strict about Ish L’Ray-ay-hoo – creating genuine bonds between people – even those with whom we have less in common or disagree.

Happy Purim!

This is Not Politics; This is Judaism

Should American Jews weigh in when it comes to the Israeli elections? 

No. 

Citizens of Israel, who defend Israel, who face the risks and pay the price for living in Israel decide who leads the country. That’s the blessing of a democratic State of Israel. 

Can American Jews weigh in regarding moral issues and Jewish values? Absolutely. 

This has become especially relevant in recent days after Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu encouraged the merger between Jewish Home, a religious Zionist party, and Otzma Yehudit (Jewish Power), an extremist right-wing party led by Kahane’s disciples. The merger will increase the united party’s chances of gaining enough votes to enter Knesset.

Some argue this is politics as usual. It is quite common for elections to bring out unsavory tactics in an effort to win. 

At the same time, this is not “business as usual.” Otzma Yehudit includes voices, views, and personalities that are way outside the mainstream in Israeli life and are anathema to Jewish values. Adherents express and promote such policies as expulsion of Arabs who are not "loyal" to the State and strict segregation between Jews and Arabs. These are policies that do not reflect traditional Torah values as expressed in public life. 

This has elicited strong reactions from across the political and religious spectrum. 

Many in Israel’s religious Zionist camp were outraged. Rabbi Benny Lau wrote:

“As someone who dreams the dream of the return to Zion, I will fight so the doctrine of Kahane doesn’t enter the Knesset because it is a racial doctrine like the Nuremberg Laws.”

Some criticized the harsh comparison between Jews and Nazis. It’s a sign of how charged the issue is.

In the US, AIPAC joined American Jewish Committee (AJC) in condemning the views of Otzma Yehudit as “reprehensible” and “they do not reflect the core values that are the very foundation of the State of Israel.”

Malcolm Hoenlein, head of the Presidents Conference and a prominent leader of the American Jewish community, noted, “For those who follow this, there’s a lot of concern...What we have to deal with is how it is perceived and understood in the United States...And we have to be very careful because it feeds certain tendencies that are very concerning to us...politics can’t dictate everything.”

These are voices which do not criticize Israel lightly - certainly not internal Israeli election politics. It’s unprecedented! That’s a good indication of how important the issue is seen by the mainstream American Jewish and pro-Israel leadership. 

I think the best reason that we cannot remain silent was expressed by Yossi Klein Halevi.    

This situation is a chilul HaShem, a desecration of God’s name. Hate and racist ideology have no place in Jewish politics - even if one thinks it’s necessary for a greater good. 

This is a chilul HaShem. That’s why Jews need to speak out - even if it’s an internal Israeli matter. When there’s a chilul Hashem, we can’t just sit back and let our Israeli brothers and sisters speak up. Yes, Israelis - who by and large reject extremist ideology - will be the ones to decide this issue at the ballot box. At the same time, all who are dismayed, pained, and outraged by this terrible arrangement can - and should - express an opinion. 

Israel will, please God, survive regardless of who wins the upcoming elevation. It will thrive when our connection with and support for Israel are deeply rooted in love and commitment to Kiddush HaShem, sanctifying God’s name, through our dedication to Torah and Jewish values. 

Give the Chanukah Present of Being Present

Have you seen this one about how to explain the Chanukah miracle in contemporary terms?

It’s funny because it’s true. 

We CAN better appreciate what it’s like to have just a little bit of fuel last for a long time through the analogy of our cell phone batteries.  Who among us doesn’t know what it’s like to be searching frantically for a charger or an outlet as the “Battery Low” message appears on the screen?

We’re spending too much time looking at our screens!

Now, screens and devices aren’t all bad.  Don’t know the answer to a question?  Google is there with an instantaneous answer.  At the same time, all of this screen time means less time for reality.

While the scientific data is still evolving, we are well aware of the negative effects of too much time spent on screens and not enough spent living in the moment.  I found it particularly ironic that when I read this article online about the subject, the pop-up ad was for a new T-Mobile phone!

That’s why I thought this initiative was very appropriate:  “This Chanukah, Go Screen Free for 30”

The idea is to put away the phones and avoid screens for (at least) the first 30 minutes after kindling the Chanukah lights.  The 30 minutes comes from the minimum time the candles must remain lit to fulfill the mitzvah.  (Kudos to Ramaz for publicizing this initiative as well!)

Each night, after lighting the candles, we proclaim: "Ein lanu reshut l'hishtameish bahem ela lir'otam bilvad - we have no permission to use the candles for mundane purposes.  Their only purpose is to be watched.  How awesome would it be if the only thing we do after lighting the candles is to be fully focused on the lights of those around us?

The Talmud states:

תנו רבנן מצות חנוכה נר איש וביתו

The mitzvah of Chanukah is for there to be a light kindled for oneself and one’s household

Often, this teaching is the jumping off point for the discussion of how, while the mitzvah requires only one candle, we light more to fulfill the obligation in a more ideal fashion – mehadrin min ha-mehadrin.  I suggest we focus our attention on those three little words – near ish u’veito.  The mitzvah of Chanukah is fulfilled when we focus our attention on the family.

This can be why, even though the ideal is to place the candles where they can be seen by those outside, the Talmud concludes:

מניחה על שלחנו ודיו

            It suffices to light the Chanukah lights on the table

The best, most fundamental way, to celebrate Chanukah is to focus – really focus – on those around us, those sitting around the table.  That’s plenty.

It is not easy to set aside our connection to the wonders of the internet, Facebook, Twitter, Instagram, Snapchat, and the other portals for information.  I know from experience.  At the same time, the greatest present we can give ourselves as Chanukah ends is to try and be more present – more fully present – for all the great things going on around us.