11 Elul 5769
Last week's parsha discusses the Ben Sorer U'Moreh, the rebellious son. Rashi quotes the gmaras that explain that this 12 year old is killed because of what he will do in the future. He's stealing money from his parents today to buy meat and wine? Says Hashem, I'm enough of an expert on human psychology to know that this kid is headed down the wrong road. Kill him now to make sure he will die without sin on his hands, because if you leave him alive, he will die with terrible blemishes on his soul.
Many commentaries point out a glaring contradiction in Hashem's logic. In parshas VaYeira, Avraham sends away Hagar and Yishmael. After Hagar and Yishmael spend days in the desert, Yishmael takes ill. Chazal explain how Hashem was judging Yishmael at that point, whether he should die or live. The angels were saying: Hashem! Yishmael's descendants are going to kill tons of Jews! Why not kill him now and save Bnei Yisrael all the tzaros? Answers HKBH, I will not kill Yishmael now, because at this point, he is a tzaddik. That's the meaning of the words Ba'asher Hu Sham - seemingly extraneous words that appear in the story of Yishmael which literally mean "And that he was there." Meaning, Yishmael, at the point where he was, at that moment, he was a tzaddik.
Ask Chazal, what's the difference between Yishmael and the Ben Sorer U'Moreh? Both are destined for terrible things. And Yishmael survives, but the Ben Sorer U'Moreh gets killed? Explains the Mizrachi, Yishmael was a tzaddik at that point. The Ben Sorer U'Moreh was not - he started down the slippery slope already. He was stealing from his parents to eat meat and wine. If he started already, then he will continue. But Yishmael was a full tzaddik at that moment, so Hashem judged him according to how he was at that point and time.
Chazal explain that the reason we read the parsha of Yishmael on Rosh Hashana is because during these days of Teshuva, we have the koach of a Yishmael. We are not judged on future misgivings, we are not wholly judged on past misgivings - HKB"H looks at us as we are right now, Ba'Asher Hu Sham. Are we trying to do teshuva? Are we attempting to get closer to Hashem, to repent on past deeds, to pledge to move forward? If we are doing that, then Hashem accepts us Ba'Asher Hu Sham, as a complete tzaddik at this point and time. If we put in the effort, even just a small effort, to return to Hashem, then HKBH will see it and help us. May we all have the koach to get closer to Him.
Hatzlacha Raba!
Monday, August 31, 2009
Friday, August 28, 2009
Defining Good and Bad
8 Elul 5769
Obviously, the basic premise behind Teshuva is doing good and avoiding evil. This assumes, however, that a person knows the difference between good and evil.
But wait, you say. Of course I know the difference between good and evil! Well, to tell you the truth, those lines are much more blurred than you might think.
What would you say, for example, about killing somebody? That surely must be a heinous, evil act, right? Well, that may be so, but then why do we have a mitzvah to kill everybody in the nation of Amalek? Or a mitzvah to kill a Rodef, someone who's trying to murder you? Or a mitzvah to wipe out the seven nations of Eretz Yisrael - you know, the Chittie, the Prizi, the Yevusi, etc. How can we possibly have a mitzvah of genocide? That's right - we have a mitzvah to wipe out Amalek. Almost every Jew knows this. If murder is such an evil act, how can we have such a mitzvah?
Or take, for example, the idea of chessed, of doing kindness for someone. That surely is a good deed, isn't it? Well, this week's parsha (Ki Seitzei) discusses a Ben Sorer U'Moreh, a rebellious son. The next discussion right after that talks about someone who does an aveirah which makes him liable to the death penalty - ki yih'yeh b'ish chet mishpat mavet. Rashi on the spot explains why the two topics are back to back: because if the parents of a Ben Sorer U'Moreh have mercy on their son, and they extend kindness to him and don't bring him to Beis Din, he will end up performing a sin that will cause him to be liable to get misas bet din.
What's going on over here? I thought it's good to be merciful, it's good to do kindness! How can doing kindess be something that's frowned upon?
So you may have guessed the answer already. Good and evil is not defined by one singluar action. It's all based on context - what were you doing when you performed the act? Were you killing a fellow Jew, or killing an Amaleki? Were you doing chessed for your next door neighbor, or for a mass murderer? (For more on how perverted chessed can be, check out the following article on Aish - apparently the Scottish government just released the guy who killed 300 people by bombing an airplane twenty years ago. http://www.aish.com/ci/s/54944532.html)
And what is the moral compass by which we use to judge each context? The Torah. Not Western morals, not Christian morals, not Arabic morals. The Torah is what tells us what is good and evil. If we are able to take this to heart, that it is not our own moral compass that determines right and wrong, but the Torah HaKedosha, then iyH we will be zoche to be matzliach in our Teshuva efforts.
Hatzlacha Raba!
Obviously, the basic premise behind Teshuva is doing good and avoiding evil. This assumes, however, that a person knows the difference between good and evil.
But wait, you say. Of course I know the difference between good and evil! Well, to tell you the truth, those lines are much more blurred than you might think.
What would you say, for example, about killing somebody? That surely must be a heinous, evil act, right? Well, that may be so, but then why do we have a mitzvah to kill everybody in the nation of Amalek? Or a mitzvah to kill a Rodef, someone who's trying to murder you? Or a mitzvah to wipe out the seven nations of Eretz Yisrael - you know, the Chittie, the Prizi, the Yevusi, etc. How can we possibly have a mitzvah of genocide? That's right - we have a mitzvah to wipe out Amalek. Almost every Jew knows this. If murder is such an evil act, how can we have such a mitzvah?
Or take, for example, the idea of chessed, of doing kindness for someone. That surely is a good deed, isn't it? Well, this week's parsha (Ki Seitzei) discusses a Ben Sorer U'Moreh, a rebellious son. The next discussion right after that talks about someone who does an aveirah which makes him liable to the death penalty - ki yih'yeh b'ish chet mishpat mavet. Rashi on the spot explains why the two topics are back to back: because if the parents of a Ben Sorer U'Moreh have mercy on their son, and they extend kindness to him and don't bring him to Beis Din, he will end up performing a sin that will cause him to be liable to get misas bet din.
What's going on over here? I thought it's good to be merciful, it's good to do kindness! How can doing kindess be something that's frowned upon?
So you may have guessed the answer already. Good and evil is not defined by one singluar action. It's all based on context - what were you doing when you performed the act? Were you killing a fellow Jew, or killing an Amaleki? Were you doing chessed for your next door neighbor, or for a mass murderer? (For more on how perverted chessed can be, check out the following article on Aish - apparently the Scottish government just released the guy who killed 300 people by bombing an airplane twenty years ago. http://www.aish.com/ci/s/54944532.html)
And what is the moral compass by which we use to judge each context? The Torah. Not Western morals, not Christian morals, not Arabic morals. The Torah is what tells us what is good and evil. If we are able to take this to heart, that it is not our own moral compass that determines right and wrong, but the Torah HaKedosha, then iyH we will be zoche to be matzliach in our Teshuva efforts.
Hatzlacha Raba!
Wednesday, August 26, 2009
Who is Hashem?
6 Elul 5769
Before we get back to the topics we discussed two posts ago (ayein sham), an important word of introduction. I want to dispel a notion that I think is very prevalent amongst Jews nowadays. If you would ask your average Jew on the street "Who is Hashem and how does this teshuva thing work?", the answer would probably be something along the lines of the following:
Hashem is an all-powerful being, up in the sky. Invisible, of course, and everywhere - because, after all, He's God. Hashem has super powers - you know, like Superman - to do just about anything He wants. He sits up in heaven, on His throne, with a book open in front of him. Do a good deed, you get a check mark on the right side of the page. Do a bad deed, and you get an X on the left side of the page. When the checks outnumber the X's, you get reward. Yippee. When then X's outnumber the checks, you get punished. Which means Hashem is basically a super-accountant, keeping tabs on a world-ful of people, making sure everybody gets their just reward or due punishment. Now, that reward or punishment can be swayed by begging - a whole lot of begging - during the month of Elul and the first few days of Tishrei. Finally, after Hashem listens to more than a month of endless nagging, He decides to either change His mind, or not change His mind.
Sound familiar? Is that your basic idea of Hashem and how the Yamim Noraim work?
Well, no offense to public opinion, but that is a horrible and tragic perception of what's going on. Let's start with the first part of that paragraph, and we'll move onto the rest of it tomorrow (or the next day).
Hashem is not some great being up in the sky. That's Zeus. Zeus is up there (well, not really), hanging out with his pals, throwing lightning bolts at whomever he chooses like he's Amon Goeth in Schindler's List. My friends, that is not Hashem. Hashem is Ein Od Milvado - simply put, Hashem is this world. He is the source of this world's existence, the whole reason why it exists, the whole reason how it exists. This is a much longer discussion that needs to be explored in far greater depth, but let's tackle one concept within this idea right now.
When Moshe asked Hashem what His name was, so that Moshe could report it back to Bnei Yisrael, Hashem replied "Ehyeh Asher Ehyeh" - or, "I will be what I will be." Meaning, Hashem is beyond time: the past, present, and future are all the same in front of Him. For example, picture in your mind a huge mosaic, the mosaic of world history. We are but ants on one small stone; we have a tiny limited viewpoint. Hashem can see the whole mosaic, the whole of history. He transcends time completely.
So Hashem is "I will be what I will be." In other words, Hashem is the ultimate Be-er - that's what He does. He exists; in the past, present, and future. So if Hashem is a Be-er - watch this, follow carefully - then we are human be-ings. Just like a painter makes a painting, a builder makes a building; the ultimate Be-er made a be-ing. That's us. Banim Atem LaShem Elokeichem - we are children of Hashem. We are creations of Hashem. We are the be-ings of the ultimate Be-er.
When you have that perspective, things start to get a little bit more rosy. How does a painter feel about his work? Or how does an architect feel about his work? If you've ever spent a lot of effort to create something, think about how you felt about that work. You love it to death. You cringe every time the table shakes, lest it fall off a table and shatter. You jump every time a baby goes near it, lest he spit up on it or something. You worry about it constantly, making sure it has a good spot in the house where both everyone can see it and nobody can damage it.
That is how Hashem feels about us. We are His children, his be-ings. And He loves us.
You hear that? Hashem LOVES us. We will discuss how this impacts our work in Elul in the next post, but for now, stop feeling bad about yourself and get your self-esteem out of the gutter. HASHEM LOVES YOU. HE CARES ABOUT YOU. HE IS WATCHING YOU - not with the angry glare of a taskmaster, but with the genuine love of a parent who watches his son/daughter. If you can internalize that, then you're well on your way towards true teshuva.
Hatzlacha Raba!
Before we get back to the topics we discussed two posts ago (ayein sham), an important word of introduction. I want to dispel a notion that I think is very prevalent amongst Jews nowadays. If you would ask your average Jew on the street "Who is Hashem and how does this teshuva thing work?", the answer would probably be something along the lines of the following:
Hashem is an all-powerful being, up in the sky. Invisible, of course, and everywhere - because, after all, He's God. Hashem has super powers - you know, like Superman - to do just about anything He wants. He sits up in heaven, on His throne, with a book open in front of him. Do a good deed, you get a check mark on the right side of the page. Do a bad deed, and you get an X on the left side of the page. When the checks outnumber the X's, you get reward. Yippee. When then X's outnumber the checks, you get punished. Which means Hashem is basically a super-accountant, keeping tabs on a world-ful of people, making sure everybody gets their just reward or due punishment. Now, that reward or punishment can be swayed by begging - a whole lot of begging - during the month of Elul and the first few days of Tishrei. Finally, after Hashem listens to more than a month of endless nagging, He decides to either change His mind, or not change His mind.
Sound familiar? Is that your basic idea of Hashem and how the Yamim Noraim work?
Well, no offense to public opinion, but that is a horrible and tragic perception of what's going on. Let's start with the first part of that paragraph, and we'll move onto the rest of it tomorrow (or the next day).
Hashem is not some great being up in the sky. That's Zeus. Zeus is up there (well, not really), hanging out with his pals, throwing lightning bolts at whomever he chooses like he's Amon Goeth in Schindler's List. My friends, that is not Hashem. Hashem is Ein Od Milvado - simply put, Hashem is this world. He is the source of this world's existence, the whole reason why it exists, the whole reason how it exists. This is a much longer discussion that needs to be explored in far greater depth, but let's tackle one concept within this idea right now.
When Moshe asked Hashem what His name was, so that Moshe could report it back to Bnei Yisrael, Hashem replied "Ehyeh Asher Ehyeh" - or, "I will be what I will be." Meaning, Hashem is beyond time: the past, present, and future are all the same in front of Him. For example, picture in your mind a huge mosaic, the mosaic of world history. We are but ants on one small stone; we have a tiny limited viewpoint. Hashem can see the whole mosaic, the whole of history. He transcends time completely.
So Hashem is "I will be what I will be." In other words, Hashem is the ultimate Be-er - that's what He does. He exists; in the past, present, and future. So if Hashem is a Be-er - watch this, follow carefully - then we are human be-ings. Just like a painter makes a painting, a builder makes a building; the ultimate Be-er made a be-ing. That's us. Banim Atem LaShem Elokeichem - we are children of Hashem. We are creations of Hashem. We are the be-ings of the ultimate Be-er.
When you have that perspective, things start to get a little bit more rosy. How does a painter feel about his work? Or how does an architect feel about his work? If you've ever spent a lot of effort to create something, think about how you felt about that work. You love it to death. You cringe every time the table shakes, lest it fall off a table and shatter. You jump every time a baby goes near it, lest he spit up on it or something. You worry about it constantly, making sure it has a good spot in the house where both everyone can see it and nobody can damage it.
That is how Hashem feels about us. We are His children, his be-ings. And He loves us.
You hear that? Hashem LOVES us. We will discuss how this impacts our work in Elul in the next post, but for now, stop feeling bad about yourself and get your self-esteem out of the gutter. HASHEM LOVES YOU. HE CARES ABOUT YOU. HE IS WATCHING YOU - not with the angry glare of a taskmaster, but with the genuine love of a parent who watches his son/daughter. If you can internalize that, then you're well on your way towards true teshuva.
Hatzlacha Raba!
Monday, August 24, 2009
Learn from Our Mistakes
4 Elul 5769
I just moved apartments, and my house currently consists of boxes, suitcases, and more boxes. But I wanted to get in a quick thought - don't worry, I will deliver on my promise to discuss what Elul is all about in a few days. Just as soon as life gets back to normal :).
I heard the following idea from a Rav Zecharyish, rav of the shul Ahavas Shalom in Ramat Bet Shemesh:
In last week's Pirkei Avos, we learn the following: (loosely translated)
- There were ten generations between Adam and Noach. Hashem showed His incredible mercies by delaying their punishments. Then they were all destroyed in the Mabul.
- There were ten generations between Noach and Avraham. Hashem showed his incredible mercies by delaying their punishments. Then Avraham came (and saved them), claiming the reward of all ten generations in the process.
Naturally, there are many things we can learn from this mishna. But consider the following: Which set of ten generations were worse? The ones who were wiped out by the flood, or the ones whose reward Avraham got all to himself?
At first glance, you might think that the first set was worse. After all, they got destroyed! But upon further examination, the opposite is true. The only reason the second set of ten generations were not destroyed, after all, is because Avraham saved them. Had Avraham lived ten generations earlier, the Dor HaMabul might've been saved. Make no mistake - the second set of ten generations were far worse, because they saw what a life of partying and aveiros got the first set of ten - and didn't take heed at all.
Rabosai, we have a month to reflect on the past year. Let's say we take the time, a few minutes a day - heck, a few minutes the whole month would be more than most people. But if we don't act on such reflections, what good does it do us? We have to figure out our weaknesses, yes, but then we have to set aside time to improve them, or in some cases, eradicate them.
May we all have the strength to not only recognize our faults, but to have the courage and the strength to act on them and improve them.
Hatzlacha Raba!
I just moved apartments, and my house currently consists of boxes, suitcases, and more boxes. But I wanted to get in a quick thought - don't worry, I will deliver on my promise to discuss what Elul is all about in a few days. Just as soon as life gets back to normal :).
I heard the following idea from a Rav Zecharyish, rav of the shul Ahavas Shalom in Ramat Bet Shemesh:
In last week's Pirkei Avos, we learn the following: (loosely translated)
- There were ten generations between Adam and Noach. Hashem showed His incredible mercies by delaying their punishments. Then they were all destroyed in the Mabul.
- There were ten generations between Noach and Avraham. Hashem showed his incredible mercies by delaying their punishments. Then Avraham came (and saved them), claiming the reward of all ten generations in the process.
Naturally, there are many things we can learn from this mishna. But consider the following: Which set of ten generations were worse? The ones who were wiped out by the flood, or the ones whose reward Avraham got all to himself?
At first glance, you might think that the first set was worse. After all, they got destroyed! But upon further examination, the opposite is true. The only reason the second set of ten generations were not destroyed, after all, is because Avraham saved them. Had Avraham lived ten generations earlier, the Dor HaMabul might've been saved. Make no mistake - the second set of ten generations were far worse, because they saw what a life of partying and aveiros got the first set of ten - and didn't take heed at all.
Rabosai, we have a month to reflect on the past year. Let's say we take the time, a few minutes a day - heck, a few minutes the whole month would be more than most people. But if we don't act on such reflections, what good does it do us? We have to figure out our weaknesses, yes, but then we have to set aside time to improve them, or in some cases, eradicate them.
May we all have the strength to not only recognize our faults, but to have the courage and the strength to act on them and improve them.
Hatzlacha Raba!
Friday, August 21, 2009
Back for a Third Season
1 Elul 5769
Shalom Aleichem Rabosai! It looks like another Elul is upon us. I pray that this will be the Elul where all of Klal Yisrael return fully and wholly to Hashem. And to help facilitate that, this blog will be back for a third season, giving semi-daily (i.e. 3-5 times a week) teshuva-oriented blurbs that will hopefully aid the Teshuva process through the long month of Elul and Aseres Yimei Teshuva.
And away we go...
For me, Elul is the hardest time of the year. Because every year I go through the following thought process (and I would assume that you do too): I know I have sinned, I know I'm probably slated for some kind of punishment, and I know that if I do Teshuva, I can avoid said punishment.
But all of that is very: a) depressing, and b) theoretical. It's depressing in the sense that I feel like I have a debt that's unrepayable, and that's a pretty horrible burden to carry around. It's theoretical in the sense that I cannot possible grasp how many sins I've committed, nor what the punishment will be for those sins. And do I know that I'm definitely going to get punished? How bad is that punishment going to be? Maybe the sins are worth it? Or maybe the punishment is so great that I can't possibly do Teshuva for it? Everything is extremely esoteric.
We'll get to all of the above questions in due time. Al regel achas, don't ever feel that you can never do Teshuva for your sins - the Torah is clear and adamant that we can always do Teshuva, even for a lifetime of sins. But let's work with one part of the above statement for a second: How do you know that if you sin, you're going to get punished?
So in reality, this is not a concept found in Chodesh Elul. Elul teaches us that we can return to Hashem, no matter how terrible our predicament. But how do we know that we need to return to Him? What proves to us that there is a concept of sin, and for that sin there is punishment?
This is what Chodesh Av teaches us. The horrible experiences that us Jews have suffered in Chodesh Av - on both a national and personal level - teaches us about the consequences of sin. We read the Kinnos, Megillas Eichah, the Haftorahs of Chodesh Av, the parshiyos of Chodesh Av - all of these writings illustrate the following simple equation: sin=punishment. Period, end of story. So if we're having a hard time conceptualizing the idea that our sins are going to land us in hot water, just take out that Kinnos or Megillas Eicha that you put away behind the Haggadahs for next year. Or simply read through Moshe's speeches in the first few parshiyos of Sefer Devarim. They're eye-opening reminders.
Now, as I mentioned before, all this is extremely depressing. What, then, is Chodesh Elul all about? Is it about depressing ourselves to the point where we feel that we have to do Teshuva? Does Elul make us focus on our iniquities so much so, so that we feel insignificant and terrible? Chas VeShalom. Elul is something much greater, much more exciting. But that's for another day, and another post. Until then, I wish you much siyata d'shmaya in all your endeavors.
Hatzlacha Raba!
Shalom Aleichem Rabosai! It looks like another Elul is upon us. I pray that this will be the Elul where all of Klal Yisrael return fully and wholly to Hashem. And to help facilitate that, this blog will be back for a third season, giving semi-daily (i.e. 3-5 times a week) teshuva-oriented blurbs that will hopefully aid the Teshuva process through the long month of Elul and Aseres Yimei Teshuva.
And away we go...
For me, Elul is the hardest time of the year. Because every year I go through the following thought process (and I would assume that you do too): I know I have sinned, I know I'm probably slated for some kind of punishment, and I know that if I do Teshuva, I can avoid said punishment.
But all of that is very: a) depressing, and b) theoretical. It's depressing in the sense that I feel like I have a debt that's unrepayable, and that's a pretty horrible burden to carry around. It's theoretical in the sense that I cannot possible grasp how many sins I've committed, nor what the punishment will be for those sins. And do I know that I'm definitely going to get punished? How bad is that punishment going to be? Maybe the sins are worth it? Or maybe the punishment is so great that I can't possibly do Teshuva for it? Everything is extremely esoteric.
We'll get to all of the above questions in due time. Al regel achas, don't ever feel that you can never do Teshuva for your sins - the Torah is clear and adamant that we can always do Teshuva, even for a lifetime of sins. But let's work with one part of the above statement for a second: How do you know that if you sin, you're going to get punished?
So in reality, this is not a concept found in Chodesh Elul. Elul teaches us that we can return to Hashem, no matter how terrible our predicament. But how do we know that we need to return to Him? What proves to us that there is a concept of sin, and for that sin there is punishment?
This is what Chodesh Av teaches us. The horrible experiences that us Jews have suffered in Chodesh Av - on both a national and personal level - teaches us about the consequences of sin. We read the Kinnos, Megillas Eichah, the Haftorahs of Chodesh Av, the parshiyos of Chodesh Av - all of these writings illustrate the following simple equation: sin=punishment. Period, end of story. So if we're having a hard time conceptualizing the idea that our sins are going to land us in hot water, just take out that Kinnos or Megillas Eicha that you put away behind the Haggadahs for next year. Or simply read through Moshe's speeches in the first few parshiyos of Sefer Devarim. They're eye-opening reminders.
Now, as I mentioned before, all this is extremely depressing. What, then, is Chodesh Elul all about? Is it about depressing ourselves to the point where we feel that we have to do Teshuva? Does Elul make us focus on our iniquities so much so, so that we feel insignificant and terrible? Chas VeShalom. Elul is something much greater, much more exciting. But that's for another day, and another post. Until then, I wish you much siyata d'shmaya in all your endeavors.
Hatzlacha Raba!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)