Where is Gan Eden?

 

Paradise? A real place? Something mystical, other-worldly, or part of the afterlife? An Iron Butterfly song?

All of the above and maybe more. Let’s have a look at the sources.

Adam and Chava were placed in a “gan b’eden mi’kedem – garden in Eden in the east.” (Bereishit 2:8) However, God banishes humanity “mi’gan eden - from the Garden of Eden” (3:23) as punishment for Adam and Chava eating the fruit of the Tree of Knowledge. They are driven out eastward, and “the cherubm and a fiery ever-turning sword, guard the way back” (v. 24) These verses seem to describe Gan Eden as a paradise lost, an amazing place that could have been ours. We want to return, but there’s a pretty big, fiery, and sharp obstacle preventing us from entering Gan Eden again.

Or it can again be ours if only we could find it. The Torah describes the rivers that border Gan Eden. Find the rivers, find the garden. It’s not so simple. Reish Lakish (Eruvin 19a) speculated whether the entrance to the Garden of Eden was in Israel, Arabia or between the rivers of Babylonia. Ramban posits Gan Eden is located at the equator based on its spiritual characteristics.

It might just be easier to view Gan Eden as a spiritual realm where the soul goes after a person passes from this world. We mention this in the Kel Maleh Rachamim memorial prayer when we hope that Gan Eden will be the resting place for the soul of the departed.

Maybe Gan Eden is both a physical place and a spiritual place. It is hiding in plain sight and impossible to find. God intended the garden to be a paradise, but it didn’t work out that way. Instead, Gan Eden has taken on multiple meanings in various locations – or simply an elusive perfection for which we dream and strive. Mine is different than yours, and all of ours are Gan Eden.

Rabbi Shalom Noach Berezovsky, the Slonimer Rebbe, writes in his Netivot Shalom that every person needs to read the Torah as if it was written for them. In other words, we do not read about creation or Gan Eden as history only in the past. Our challenge is to read Torah in a way that it resonates with our existence. The story of creation might be filtered through our understanding of science or, in particular this year, the amazing findings and pictures of the Webb Telescope. The serpent might represent that voice which discourages us from doing what we know we should. It will be an interesting year of weekly portions to find ourselves in each one.

Gan Eden might be where we live (“Everything’s better by the beach!”), our homes (“There’s no place like home!”), time to ourselves, or time with family and friends. And it’s not a bad Iron Butterfly song either. Let’s keep searching for our individual Gan Eden while making our lives a little more idyllic wherever we find ourselves.

Beat It!

Sunday is Hoshana Rabbah, the last day of Sukkot. The day gets its name from the “Hoshana” service in the Beit Mikdash in which the people would circle the altar carrying an aravah, a willow branch, calling out “Hoshana,” which means “save us.” On the 7^th day of Sukkot, the service included seven circuits around the altar. More circuits meant more declarations of “Hoshana,” prompting the 7^th day of Sukkot be called “Hoshana Rabbah,” the day of many pleas for salvation.

Nowadays, Hoshana Rabbah is also marked as the last day of the High Holy Day season. In addition to an extended Hoshanot service of 7 circuits around the shul holding the lulav and etrog, there are additional prayers recited, and the tunes of the High Holidays are used. Some people extend a High Holiday greeting of “Gmar chatimah tovah” (a good sealing in the Book of Life) or the Yiddish “a gut kvittel” (a good verdict notice). I’ve always understood this as our verdict is written on Rosh Hashanah, it is sealed on Yom Kippur, and the book goes back on the shelf on Hoshana Rabbah. (Although some Chasidim extend the judgment season through Chanukah!)

The Talmud (Sukkah 43b) mentions another ritual performed with the willow branch on the 7^th day of Sukkot – chibut. Many commentators (including Rambam) say this meant to beat the aravah on the ground. This has developed into the practice known as “klopping hoshanos,” or beating a bundle of 5 aravot on the ground at the end of the Hoshanot service on Hoshana Rabbah.

What is the reason for klopping hoshanos?

Some understand the practice as a more intense way to pray - especially for rain. The Mishnah teaches that Sukkot is the time the world is judged regarding the year’s rainfall. The last day of Sukkot is when the verdict is given. (This is why we subsequently recite “Geshem” and pray for rain on Shemini Atzeret.) The physical movement of beating the branches on the floor is meant to evoke a more passionate plea for rain. Some note that all the branches being beaten at the same time actually sounds like rainfall.

Another way to understand the beating of the branches is that we are beating away sinful behavior. This evokes the malkut, the punishment of lashes Beit Din would impose on certain sins. We klop in the hope that God views this act as expiation for our sins.

Rabbi Avraham Yitzchak Ha-Kohen Kook, in his classic style, offers a deeper explanation. He references the Midrash that the four species represent different types of Jews. The etrog, with its smell and taste, represents a Jew with Torah and good deeds; the hadasim and lulav represent Jews with good deeds but no Torah or no Torah but good deeds; and the aravah, which has neither a nice smell nor a good taste, represents those Jews who have no Torah or good deeds. The aravah, therefore, represents the simple Jew, who often demonstrates intuitive, healthy, and natural religious instincts. On Hoshana Rabbah, Rav Kook explains, we do not “beat the aravot," but “beat WITH the aravot,” invoking that simple religious fervor in our pleas to God.

However you slice it – or beat it, klopping hoshanos can be a very powerful, spiritual, and uplifting ritual. Kids love it! They try to smash the branch to smithereens. (So it can be kind of messy.) This ancient activity is a physical movement at the conclusion of a long series of pleas for salvation, health, wellbeing, and blessing. This is yet another way that Judaism moves us. We don’t just talk the talk; we walk the walk (7 times in fact) and beat our branches in an effort to literally and aggressively propel us forward into the New Year.

Klop on! Beat it!

I May Be a Golden Girl But That Doesn't Mean I'm Old

Have you ever watched the “Golden Girls” on TV? Considering that the show, which ran from 1985-1992, is about the lives of four widows in a retirement community in Florida, it’s amazing how many people my age remember the show. It was a big, award-winning hit.

And I just realized that I am a Golden Girl.

How old do you think the characters were in the show? I thought they must be, at least, in their 60s. I was recently shocked to learn that Blanche Deveraux, played by Rue McClanahan (above), was scripted as being 47 years old when the show began.  What?!?  She’s an old lady. I’M 47!!!!! So, you see, I am a Golden Girl. It’s been a rough week…

I know I am not old. I know many people who are in their 80s, 90s, or even 100+ who don’t act old. One such person liked to say, “Age is only a number – and mine is unlisted.” There is a chronological age, and there is an attitudinal and perspective age. The goal is to always approach life with as fresh, vibrant, and energetic perspective as possible.

Sukkot is a holiday of many messages. One is the message of freshness.

The Mishnah (Sukkah 3:1) teaches that lulav ha-yaveish pasul, a dried out lulav is disqualified and may not be used. Why is a fresh lulav required?

Rashi says that the problem with yaveish is that it lacks hiddur, it is not beautiful enough. In other words, we try to fulfill the mitzvah in as an ideal way as possible. A completely dried out lulav doesn’t even qualify for the base-line requirement to be considered as passable.

Rabbi Avin, in the Talmud Yerushalmi, says that the problem with yaveish is due to the verse in Tehillim that we read during Hallel, “Lo ha-meitim yehaleil kah – The dead cannot praise God.” Part of the performance of the mitzvah of the Four Species is the na’a’nuim, wavings, during Hallel. A dead, dry Lulav has no place in such a joyous activity.

Rabbi Yaakov ben Asher, the Ba’al Ha-Turim, explains that Lulav has the gematriya (numerical value) of chaim, life. Both are 68. That, he says, is why a dry lulav is unfit. A lulav signifies life, so it must be fresh since that is how life is meant to be lived.

Throughout the Sukkot holiday, we encounter rituals and symbols of beauty, joy, and vitality – etrog, lulav, sukkah, Simchat Torah, and more. Taken together, they create an atmosphere of freshness that is meant to combat any negative or stagnant feelings that may make us feel “old.”

So, I’m OK with being a Golden Girl. Age is a number. Jewish life is a glorious joyous, fresh adventure. L’chaim!

Just One Shabbos!

 

It’s a classic! I listened to the Mordechai Ben David song “Just One Shabbos” in my youth. My kids sang it in school. I imagine some of you are now singing it in your heads.

The lyrics tells the story of the transformative power of Shabbat. The chorus of “Just one Shabbos, and we’ll all be free!” invokes the Rabbinic teaching (Jerusalem Talmud Ta’anit 1:1): “If Israel would keep one Shabbat properly, David’s son (Moshiach) would immediately come.” This statement is the motivation for initiatives like Shabbat Across America, The Shabbat Project, and other efforts to encourage more Jews to experience and observe Shabbat. It’s a beautiful thing and might just bring the redemption.

While I am a big fan of large Shabbat gatherings, I am not so sure we’ll get all Israel to keep Shabbat together. I understand the statement as a call for each of us to make Shabbat the best we possibly can.

During this time of year, we review of our past actions, recognize our mistakes, repent, and resolve to do better. Sounds simple enough, but it can be quite a tall order. Where do we start? On what should we focus?

Rav Yehuda Amital, the late Rosh Yeshiva of Yeshivat Har Etzion, suggested we keep it simple. In his inimitable wisdom, he said we should focus on three things.

1. Identify and focus on the mitzvah or aveirah, the good actions or challenges, with which we struggle most.

2. Choose a mitzvah we enjoy and build upon it. It might be prayer, minyan attendance, blessings, or volunteering. Add something to something at which we already are succeeding.

3. Everyone should focus on Shabbat and find a way to enhance it. Attend services in shul, invite guests, add zemirot (songs) or a Dvar Torah to the meal. Each of us can make the Shabbat experience just a little better and more meaningful.

This is the first Shabbat of 5783. The year ahead may not see all Israel observe “Just One Shabbos” together, but it can definitely be the year we take our Shabbat and find “just one way” to make it – and our entire year – more exalted, liberating, and meaningful.

Let's Not Forget What We Did Right

 

We are entering a season of confession. Starting with Selichot, we will confess dozens of times before Yom Kippur ends. Parshat Ki Tavo contains a unique type of confession.

“Asiti k’chol asher tzivitani - I have acted according to everything that You commanded me.” (Devarim 26:15)

This verse is part of the confession which is recited when one turns over the tithes to their rightful recipients. Why are we commanded to confess to doing the right thing? Confession is usually associated with making amends for mistakes!

Often, we feel improving means to admit mistakes and talk about what went wrong. The only way to move forward and grow is by admitting and overcoming the mistakes of the past. The lesson of this different confession is that we need to confess what goes right as well. Of course, we must own up to our mistakes and shortcomings. We also need to admit that some things, indeed, are going well. During this season of reflection, we tend to be overly focused on the mistakes, but we need to also remember the good things. This can encourage and inspire us to be even better.

It makes sense that we associate confession with the negative. Often, that is our default setting. Judaism asks us to transcend that default setting. Add a little joy to the reflection and repentance. Rabbi Jonathan Sacks quotes Soren Kierkegaard, who wrote, “It takes moral courage to grieve; it takes religious courage to rejoice.” I know there is plenty of guilt and contrition this time of year – and that’s not all bad. At the same time, let’s not forget what we did right and feel pride and joy over what we accomplished.

During the High Holidays, the verse that stands out for me is “Gilu bi’re’adah – rejoice while trembling.” (Psalm 2) Judaism is a religion of joy. We must declare that we can overcome obstacles and transcend limitations. It need not be easy, but it is always possible.

Let’s confess. Let’s confess to what needs fixing. Let’s also confess to what works while striving for what is possible.

Carry On Wayward Son

Whenever I hear the song by Kansas, I think of the ben sorer u’moreh, the rebellious child. While the song is not religious and the lyrics have nothing to do with the Torah’s account, I just feel that “wayward” is a better way to describe the child than rebellious, and I like the music.

The text (Devarim 21:18-21) does not provide very many details. There is a child not listening to their parents. The parents discipline the child to no avail. They tell the elders that the child is disobedient as well as a glutton and drunkard, and the child is executed by stoning as a cautionary tale. If this sounds strange, the Talmud (Sanhedrin 71a) delves more deeply into detailed conditions so unlikely that there never was such a case. Why, then, does the Torah teach it?

D’rosh v’kabel s’char – We are to study this issue and be rewarded with the lessons we learn from this exploration.

What lesson? Essentially, the ben sorer u’moreh scenario highlights the importance of moderation, discipline, and communication. These are key ingredients in parenting as well as any relationship.

The Talmud (Sanhedrin 88a) teaches that if the parents forgive their rebellious child, then the child is forgiven, and no punishment is meted out. Rabbi Shmuel Borenstein, in his Shem Mi’Shmuel, asks a very fundamental question. We are ready to execute the rebellious child for his sins even if – let’s be honest – they’re not so terrible. We are so worried about what the child will ultimately become that we take drastic, preventative action. And you want to tell me that if the parents are willing to excuse and forgive their child that he is now off the hook?! That’s ridiculous! What role should parents’ forgiveness play in such a case? If the situation is so dire that we’re ready to execute the child, it would seem like we’re well past parental forgiveness.

Rabbi Borenstein explains that the ben sorer u’moreh is executed because of what he may become only when he has no positive parental influence. If, however, he has parents who are willing to forgive, this demonstrates that all is not yet lost. Ben sorer u’moreh may not be a realistic scenario, but it teaches a positive influence and a caring relationship can make all the difference.

A boy from Bnei Brak strayed from his religious upbringing and became engaged to a non-Jewish girl. His cousin was quite upset but was unable to convince him to break off the engagement. He did, however, convince him that he should break the news to his parents in person. He agreed and told his parents he was coming home for Shabbat, but they shouldn’t expect him to observe Shabbat just because he was coming home. He did his own thing – listened to his music, smoked on the porch. He planned to break the news after Shabbat. 

On Shabbat afternoon, his father invited him to join him for a shiur given by Rabbi Aharon Leib Shteinman, one of the leading rabbis of the community. Surprisingly, the son agreed to go. Afterwards, they approached Rav Shteinman to say good Shabbos, and the father informed the rabbi that, unfortunately, his son is no longer observant.

Rav Shteinman looked at the young man and asked, “How long has it been since you were observant?” He answered, “Two years.”

“And during that time, did you ever think about repenting?”

"Yes. Four times."

“How long did these thoughts last?”

“Approximately 10 minutes each time.”

“Ah. This means that for 40 minutes over the last 2 years you would be considered a bal teshuvah, a penitent person, who is on a higher spiritual level than even the righteous. I am envious of your spiritual level. Good Shabbos.”

The young man went back home, and Rav Shteinman's words left him no peace. He ultimately broke off his engagement and began to return to tradition.

But why did this young man agree to go with his father to Rav Shteinman’s class in the first place?

He answered by recounting a story from fourth grade.

“My class went to be tested by Rav Shteinman. Our teacher requested that the rabbi ask the boys easy questions so they would be able to answer. That’s what happened. The rabbi asked each boy an easy question, and they each answered and received a candy as a reward. The rabbi asked me a question, and I didn’t know the answer. This happened a second and third time, but I still didn’t know the answer. I was the only boy without a candy. As we were leaving, Rav Shteinman called me over and said, ‘In Torah and Judaism, we reward effort, not results. Your fellow students put in effort for one question, so they got one candy. You tried three times, so I am giving you three candies.’

“That interaction in fourth grade is why I went to Rav Shteinman’s class with my father.”

A genuine, engaged, caring relationship can make all the difference. It might save the ben sorer u’moreh from death. It might lead someone back into the fold. It helps each of us carry on.

E-L-U-L: Putting the Pieces Together

 

We all know about the E-L-U-L acronym, a verse that has words beginning with א-ל-ו-ל that can teach us how to utilize Elul as a month of preparation for the High Holidays.

The most famous is “Ani L’dodi V’dodi Li – I am for my beloved, and my beloved is for me.” (Shir Hashirim 6:3) Elul is a time for recapturing a close, loving relationship with God.

A lesser-known acronym is: “Ish L’rei’ay’hu U’matanot La’evyonim - One gives a gift to another and charity for the poor.” (Esther 9:22) While the verse speaks about the obligations of Purim, it also teaches us the importance of establishing and strengthening generous relationships with others. Our High Holiday preparations must focus on people and not just on God.

Here’s an acronym I bet nobody has heard of. Rabbi Natan Nata Spira, a 17^th century Kabbalist, writes that the letters of Elul stand for “Aron Luchot Ve-shivrei Luchot – the ark, the tablets, and the broken tablets.”

The Sages teach these three holy objects were kept together. Why were the broken tablets kept together with the new set of whole ones in the Ark? The lesson is that future accomplishment does not negate the mistakes of the past. We are who we are because of all the things we did to get to this point – the good and the not so good. This powerful symbolism is a timely reminder that, no matter our mistakes – or maybe because of them, we have the ability to put the pieces back together in the coming year.

John Roedel is a comic who became well-known as a writer and poet through his heartfelt Facebook conversations that went viral and became a best-selling book titled, “Hey God. Hey John.” Here is one of his poems.

Me:  Hi God
God:  Hello, my love
Me:  I'm falling apart. Can you put me back together?
God:  I would rather not
Me:  Why?
God:  Because you aren't a puzzle
Me:  What about all the pieces of my life that are falling down onto the ground?
God:  Let them stay there for a while. They fell off for a reason. Take some time to decide if you need any of those pieces back
Me:  You don't understand! I'm breaking down!
God:  No! You don't understand. You are breaking through. What you feel are just growing pains. You are shredding the things and the people in your life that are holding you back. You aren't falling apart. You are falling into place. Relax. Take some deep breaths, and allow those things that you don't need anymore to fall off of you. Quit holding onto the pieces that don't fit you anymore. Let them fall off. Let them go.
Me:  Once I start doing that what will left of me?
God:  Only the very best pieces of you.
Me:  I'm scared of changing.
God:  I keep telling you - YOU AREN'T CHANGING. YOU ARE BECOMING!
Me:  Becoming who?
God:  Becoming who I created you to be! A person of light and love and charity and hope and courage and mercy and joy and mercy and grace and compassion. I made you for more than the shallow pieces you have decided to adorn yourself. With that you cling to with such greed and fear. Let those things fall off of you. I love you! Don't change! Become! Become! Become who I made you to be. I'm going to keep telling you this until you remember it.
Me:  There goes another piece
G0d:  So let it be
Me:  So...I'm not broken?
God:  No, but you are breaking like dawn. It's a new day, a day of becoming. Become! Become.

There are lots of ways to prepare for the High Holidays, many messages our tradition gives us. While we strive to improve and correct, let’s also examine the many pieces that make us who we are and find the best way to put them together. Like any puzzle, it requires patience and may even get a little frustrating. When all is said and done, though, we need to fit them all together to create the finished product.