Rabbi's Corner

Have you ever given any thought as to how, during the Festival of Sukkot, we are in a kind of "quarantine" with HaShem when we dwell in the sukkah?   Dwelling in the sukkah may very well be the closest thing to being in the ancient Temple in Jerusalem.  Why?  Because when we dwell in the sukkah we are surrounded by HaShem's love and concern.  Dwelling in the sukkah during this festival, which immediately follows the Yamim Nora'im (the Days of Awe) during which we offered prayers asking HaShem to forgive us and grant us another year of life, is the secret of the embrace given to us by HaShem that tells us everything is okay.

Let's say that during the period between Rosh HaShanah and Yom Kippur you met up with someone whom you knew you had wronged.  Let's say you had committed the sin of lashon hara (gossip) by speaking badly about him to others.  According to halachah (Jewish Law), you have to tell this person what you did and ask for his forgiveness.  It is only then that HaShem can forgive you.  This may the hardest thing for a person to do: to admit to another human being that you have wronged that person.  Nevertheless, you summon the courage to confront him and apologize profusely for what you have done.

What is the best possible outcome?  If this person loves you for who you truly are, and if he forgives you with all of his heart, he might give you a big hug and say something like this: "Forgive you?  Forgive you for what?  It never happened!  You need to remember that I love you unconditionally not matter what!"  He tells you that he appreciates how difficult this was for you and that he loves you so much that you have nothing to fear from him.  And this is the secret of the Joy of Sukkot!

The walls of the sukkah are the hug of HaShem's loving embrace.  When we enter the sukkah, we are totally enveloped by the Divine Presence.  We experience the awesome compassion, love, and total forgiveness given to us by HaShem.  Knowing this, felling this, how can  we be anything but joyous!?!  

In Sefer B’reyshit (the Book of Genesis) we read the following: “And Ya’akov went out from Be’er-Sheva, and he went to Charan. And he arrived at the place, and he lodged there for the sun had set, and he took stones of the place, and he put them at his head, and he lay down in that place. And he dreamed, and, behold: a ladder standing on the ground and its top reaching the Heavens; and, behold: Angels of G-d ascending and descending upon it. And behold: Hashem was standing over him, and He said, ‘I am Hashem, G-d of Avraham, your father, and G-d of Yitzchak; the land upon which you are lying I will give to your seed….” And Ya’akov awoke from his sleep, and he said, “Indeed Hashem is in this place, and I did not know.” And he was fearful, and he said, “…this is Sha'ar Shamayim (the Gate of the Heavens)!” (B’reyshit 28:10-13 & 16-17)

But just what is this “gate?” For the People Israel, “the Gate of the Heavens” has always been open and will always remain open. Each era of the People Israel has imagined “the Gate of the Heavens” as an entrance through which those whose prayers pass through will find a life of purpose, a life of presence in the here and now, a life that gives meaning, a life that creates a better world not only for the People Israel but for all peoples of this world.

Perhaps this well-known story about the Baal Shem Tov offers us the most sage advice on how each of us by way of our prayers may gain access to the gate: “It is Yom Kippur, the Day of Judgment. The Baal Shem Tov is conducting the prayer services. In the middle of his chant, he pauses abruptly. His face looks troubled and strained. Time passes and the congregation becomes increasingly anxious over this unusual delay. In the meantime, a young shepherd boy is sitting in the back of the synagogue. Never having received a religious education, he is unable to read the Hebrew words of the prayers. Yet his heart yearns to pray to his heavenly father. He pulls out his shepherd’s whistle from his pocket and decides to pray in the form of a tune. As he sounds the first note, the startled congregation turns around and silences him. Suddenly a smile brightens the Baal Shem Tov’s face. He resumes the service and brings it to a joyful conclusion. Afterwards, his disciples ask for an explanation of this curious behavior. The Baal Shem Tov replies: “I sensed the gates of heaven were closed to our prayers. A year of misfortune was to be decreed upon our people. I tried to break through but to no avail. However, that one sincere and heartfelt note which the shepherd boy emitted was enough. It pierced through all the heavenly gates. Thereafter, all our prayers were permitted to follow.”

May your hearts be filled to overflowing with your own individual prayers during these Yamim Nora’im (days of Awe), and may your prayers create a better life and a better world for you and those you hold dear!

Soon after the 1929 Arab anti-Jewish riots in Eretz Yisrael (the Land of Israel) which claimed the lives of so many of our people, the question arose as to why HaShem allowed such devastation to ravage the Holy Land.  A number of people gathered in the home of Rav Yosef Chaim Sonnenfeld to seek an answer to this question.  One man suggested, "Perhaps it is because of the soccer matches that are taking place on Shabbos," looking to Rav Sonnenfeld for approval of what he had just said.  Rav Sonnenfeld slowly rose from his seat and loudly declared, "Absolutely not!  Most of the people who are engaged in these soccer matches on Shabbos had previously been drafted into the Russian army and forced to desecrate Shabbos.   They were forced to eat non-kosher food, and were not allowed to perform any mitzvot.  After returning to their homes after their service, they were subjected to mass pogroms in which many of their family members were murdered.  And now you think that it is because these people who were forced to abandon Torah and mitzvot under these conditions that they are responsible for the punishment the entire Land has suffered?!"  The room fell silent as Rav Sonnenfeld continued, "Perhaps it is we who live here in Jerusalem who are to blame!  We have not suffered as have these people, and yet we also have not taken note of the great Torah scholars who live among us, and we do not follow in their ways.  Because more is expected of us, we are more to blame for not fulfilling our potential despite the great opportunity we have to do so by being Jews living in the Holy City of Jerusalem!"

In this week's parashah, Parashat Ki Tavo, we read the following: "Cursed is the one who does not uphold the words of this Torah to perform them." (Devarim 27:26)  It is all too easy for ultra-observant Jews to blame non-observant Jews for much of the suffering within the Jewish world.  Their "proof" is this verse which declares that non-observant Jews bring a curse upon the People Israel.  But is this really true?  The Talmud answers this question in the negative by telling us that every Jew is obligated to say "the world was created solely for me." (Talmud Bavli Sanhedrin 37a)  Looking beyond what appears to be an intense self-centeredness on the part of anyone who says these words, we must realize the lesson they teach is that every occurrence that happens in our lives is a learning experience from which we are supposed to grow, to improve ourselves, and to extend ourselves to others.  Especially at this time of the year, during the month of Elul, each one of us must evaluate our own actions or non-actions so that we may admit how we may have caused problems for the People Israel, be they in our own families, in our own communities, or in our own Synagogue.  When all is said and done, the answer to the question is that all of us are to blame.  The real blessing is that all of us can be the solution as well.  And that solution can be found only in the Torah!

During training flights, the lead pilot of an Israeli squadron of F-16 fighter jets had the task of shooting out flares in the area of the target to mark where his squadron was to aim their missiles.  After doing so, he would immediately elevate his plane to a higher altitude so that the planes flying with him would be able to attack the target.  One night, as they were flying in total darkness, he shot out his flares and was immediately overcome with vertigo.  As a result he turned his pane upside down while thinking all along that he was right side up.  He began to pull the plane into what he thought was its regular steep incline not realizing that he was actually heading straight towards the ground at hundreds of miles per hour.  And although the altimeter was sounding a warning that he was in a steep dive rapidly approaching the ground, he ignored it thinking that it was malfunctioning.  The jet had two different systems to warn the pilot of an impending crash, and this second one was beeping frantically.  Suddenly, both pilots of the two jets that had been alongside of him during this training run informed him that he was upside down and was about to crash.  They told him to invert his plane and pull up before it was too late.  Even though he was certain he was right side up,  he followed their instructions and brought his plane back for a safe landing.

In this week's parashah, Parashat Shoftim, we read : "You shall not deviate from the word they (the appointed judges) tell you." (Devarim 17:11)  Moshe Rabbeinu, Moses our teacher, told B'nei Yisrael that they had to obey the rulings of the courts (made by the appointed judges) even if they were convinced that these rulings were wrong.  If the judges said that left was right and right was left, their word was law.  Silly?  No.  And let me tell you why.

When you are driving to work along your old familiar route, you know that your favorite gas station is on your left hand side.  However, when you go home from work along the same route, this same gas station is now on your right hand side.  You see, it all depends upon your perspective.  Our Rabbis are telling us that perhaps our perspective is wrong.  We must turn around.  We must face the opposite direction  in order to gain the proper perspective as to what is happening in our lives.   And that is what the month of Elul is all about.  We are to prepare to do t'shuvah by turning around and viewing our lives from the proper perspective utilizing our family, our friends, our synagogue, our tradition and HaShem to go forward into the new year.  May we all be successful in doing this!

We read the following in this week's parashah, Parashat Eykev: "And I dwelt on the mountain for 40 days and 40 nights; I did not eat bread nor did I drink water." (Devarim 9:9)  This verse relates how Moshe went up the mountain shortly after B'Nei Yisrael (the Children of Israel) had received the Aseret HaDibrot (the Ten Commandments) coming down on Shiv'a Asar B'Tammuz (the 17th of Tammuz).  Upon seeing B'Nei Yisrael worshiping Eygel HaZahav (the Golden Calf), he throws the tablets down shattering them into pieces.  Moshe then returns to the top of the mountain to plead with HaShem not to kill the people.  "And I fell down before HaShem like the first time for 40 days and 40 nights; I did not eat bread or drink water...." (Devarim 9:18)  Moshe descends the mountain on the 29th of Av having achieved his goal.  On the very next day, Rosh Chodesh Elul, Hashem tells him: "Engrave for yourself two tablets of stone just like the first ones, and ascend to Me up the mountain and make for yourself an ark of wood." (Devarim 10:1)  The end of this 40-day/night period is Yom Kippur upon which B'Nei Yisrael are forgiven for this grievous sin.  Rashi tells us that during the middle 40 days/nights period, the period during which Moshe voluntarily ascended the mountain to plead with HaShem on behalf of B'Nei Yisrael, HaShem was angry with them to the point that He wanted kill them.  Moshe "convinced" H-m otherwise.  This middle 40 day/night period teaches us an important lesson: in order to develop a positive relationship with another person, we must work very hard at this process over an extended period of time.  This best evidenced via the Jewish marriage ceremony.

Halakhah (Jewish Law) intentionally divides the Jewish marriage ceremony into two distinct parts: erusin, where the man and woman are bound to each other in a betrothal that did not allow them to live with each other, and nisuin, the ceremony under the chuppah (wedding canopy) that did permit them to finally live together as husband and wife.  In pre-Medieval times, the period between erusin and nisuin was one year.  Obviously the entire process of getting married was compressed into one ceremony that still contains both parts, each part being separated by the reading of the Ketubah (the wedding contract).  Even this small amount of time between each part of the Jewish marriage ceremony continues to give emphasis to the fact that love between husband and wife requires time and effort to develop and grow.  Because our relationship with HaShem is akin to the relationship between husband and wife, it also takes much time and great effort to develop and grow.  The simple fact of the matter is that the more time and effort we put into our relationship with HaShem, the greater and more satisfying will that relationship be

As we approach the month of Elul, that period of time when we prepare for the Yamin Nora'im (the Days of Awe), may we put even more effort into nurturing our relationship with HaShem as well as all our relationships with our spouses, our families, our Synagogue, and the People Israel.  

In Masekhet (Tractate) Megillah 18b of the Talmud Bavli (Babylonian Talmud) we find instructions on writing a Sefer Torah (Torah Scroll).  The sofer (scribe) must copy out of text located in front of him.  It is forbidden to write even one letter of the Sefer Torah by heart.  The Talmud then relates the story of Rav Chisda once finding Rav Chananel writing a Sefer Torah without a written text in front of him.  Rav Chisda knew that he must rebuke Rav Chananel, but because he respected and admired Rav Chananel he did not know how to do this.  Finally, Rav Chisda said this to Rav Chananel: "You are qualified to write the entire Sefer Torah by heart.  However, the Sages ruled that it is forbidden to write even one letter from memory."  What we have here is evidence of a loving rebuke.  We find the same situation in this week's parashah (Torah portion), Parashat Devarim.

When Moshe Rabbeinu (Moshe, our Teacher) rebuked B'Nei Yisrael (the People Israel) at the end of his life, he recounted how he appointed judges over the nation due to B'nei Yisrael's excessive quarreling.  "So I took the Heads of your Tribes, distinguished men, who were wise and well-known, and I appointed them as heads (judges) over you." (Devarim 1:15)  Moshe went into detail, listing the qualities needed for those judges.  Why was it necessary for Moshe to list these qualities at this point in the journey?  As the Torah text points out, Moshe began by explaining how qualified these "distinguished men" were and why they, in particular, were needed to assume the duties that needed to be fulfilled.  It should be noted that Moshe prefaced his rebuke with praise.  He told B'Nei Yisrael how special they were in that they needed these specially selected people to ensure that they would follow the dictates of the Torah.  So, what is the lesson here?

Criticism (i.e.- rebuke) is dangerous.  Why?  Because it can wound one's pride.  It can demoralize the recipient for a long time, perhaps even forever.  However, being critiqued (i.e.- criticism) can also lead to tremendous growth.  It can broaden one's vision (chazon) and help one to proceed on a new and better path.  As the Torah teaches us, it is only when we see the positive traits in the one who needs correction that we are then able to give that person a loving rebuke.  And when that happens, everyone wins!   

In this week's parashah, Parashat Chukat, we read the following: "Take the staff, and gather together the assembly, you and Aharon your brother, and speak to the rock before their eyes, so that it shall give forth its waters."  Once again the B'nei Yisrael are complaining vociferously, this time that they have no water.  Miryam, sister of Moshe and Aharon, has died and the well of "Mayim Chayim" ("Living Water") has ceased to produce the life sustaining liquid that has kept them alive all the years of their wandering in the desert.  So HaShem commands Moshe to speak to the rock to bring forth water for the B'nei Yisrael.  It is interesting to note that this is the very same rock that Moshe had previously been commanded to strike to bring about the same result.  Why the difference in methods to produce the same result?

There are two distinct methods by which a person can obtain a desired result in this world.  The first is by strength.  People often use their physical strength, voice, or facial expressions to compel others to do their bidding.  In fact, more often than not, the more forceful the exertion of such strength, the quicker others listen and fulfill the desired "request."  The second way to obtain a desired result is through the use of wisdom.  It is through the exercising of wisdom that the one making the request is compelled to think of creative ways to favorably influence others to do their bidding.  It is this use of wisdom, not strength, that separates man from animals.  Animals operate by instinct and patterned behavior to get what they want.  Human beings have the ability given to them by HaShem to exercise wisdom and judgment to reach their desired goals.

The first time that the B'nei Yisrael received water from the rock, Moshe had been told to strike it, and strike it he did.  This occurred at the beginning of the desert wanderings.  But after 40 years of wandering in the desert and as preparation for their entering into the Promised Land, the B'nei Yisrael needed to be shown that the more intelligent way of achieving their desires is to use wisdom - not strength.  Shlomo HaMelekh (King Solomon) said: "...wisdom is better than might." (Kohelet 9:16)