Friday, January 27, 2023

What Happened to Your Heart?

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I’d like to ask you a question: Why is the world falling apart? 

People will come up with many creative answers: They will blame everyone from the Chinese to the Iranians; from the capitalists to the socialists.   It’s the Democrats’ fault, it’s the Republicans’ fault.  It’s the price of oil, it’s the price of eggs….

My friends, I have the answer and I won’t even charge you for it. The reason the world is falling apart is because we are ignoring the word of G-d, His Torah. Our Torah is the blueprint of the universe. Before G-d created the world, He created the Torah. Therefore, the Torah is the DNA of all reality. So, if the world looks like one big mutant cancer gene, it’s because we have scrambled the DNA and tried to create the world according to our own “architectural design.” That ambition has failed man, time and time again:

Adam sinned, he was thrown out of Eden and brought death to the world. The generation of the flood sinned and G-d brought the mighty flood; the people built a Tower of Babel and G-d punished them.  Sodom and Gomorrah well, their fate wasn’t too pretty either. 

You see, G-d is the master coder, and when we try to overwrite the program, we find ourselves faced with catastrophic glitches and disasters.

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So why is the world broken? Because we ignore G-d’s will.

And there is one sin that I want to speak about that is at the root of it all – calloused hearts! 

When someone came to Hillel and asked him to summarize the entire Torah on one foot, he said: “‘That which is hateful to you, do not do to your neighbor. That is the entire Torah and the rest is commentary.  Go and study it.’”

You see, my friends, all of Judaism depends on the ability to view another person’s life as just as real and significant as one views one’s own. If we don’t see the human being in the other person, then we certainly don’t see the G-d in them. When our egos are too big, we leave no breathing room for the existence of others. It may very well be that we are the lucky one, the rich one, the pretty one, the healthy one, the employed one, but that doesn’t cancel out the fact that everyone’s life matters. If others are not as lucky as we are, it doesn’t give us the right to disqualify their existence or emotions. We should have empathy, compassion and an opened hand and heart. And conversely for those who are less lucky, we have no right to dismiss the woes of the more fortunate with contemptuous comments such as, “Ah they are rich what do they know of suffering.” Pain, suffering, heartache, sickness and troubles have no tax bracket.

But we’ve become so callous and numb to the ordeals and dignity of others, that our feelings of superiority or inferiority and our massive egos dehumanize our brothers, our friends, our neighbors and our fellow citizens. We spurn and trample on the one principle which Hillel highlights as encompassing the entire Torah.

The Torah commands us, “Love your neighbor as yourself.” In fact, the rabbis teach that you should pray for another before you pray for your own needs. The reward: You will benefit first.

G-d tells us to circumcise our hearts. The Rambam explains this as behaving fairly, justly, not only to people who are rich, powerful or popular but toward everyone. Have a heart for people who need your heart; have a dollar for people who need your dollar; Have a smile, a hug and kindness for people who need it, not just for people who can do something for you. Because that is just serving your own ends and using people as little props in your deceitful game of life. 

Truly, we live in such an egotistical, self-absorbed world that it is no wonder that it is falling apart. It’s fractured by the pull of each man for himself. From selfies to the social media platforms which broadcast them, the obsession with self is nothing less than suicidal. 

We deem others along with their ambitions and successes as threats to our own survival, and as such, everyone feels like an enemy and no one like a friend, a neighbor or a brother. 

 

In this week's Parshah, Bo, we read about Pharaoh’s persistent refusal to let the Israelites go. Pharaoh deemed himself a god. He believed that he created the Nile and that he created himself. He rejected G-d. While the most devasting plague was yet to hit his country, the death of the firstborns of Egypt, he slept in his bed. While his country was being destroyed plague after plague, he was still able to sleep because he had a heart only for himself. It’s repeated many times that Pharaoh hardened his heart. That hardened heart ruined him and his country. Ego has only false gains, but its collateral damage will always bring justice in the end.

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G-d did not command us to love our parents in the Torah, just to respect them. But He did command us to love Him and to love our neighbor. Rabbi Akiva said that doing so is a fundamental principle of the Torah. “A soul enters this world for seventy or eighty years just to do a favor for another,” says the Baal Shem Tov.

Friends the very last letter of the Torah is a lamed and the first is a beit, combined they spell the world Lev, which means heart. We must have a heart! We put conditioner on our hair and skin to make it soft, more importantly we must condition our heart. Circumcise it, soften it, open it. If G-d gave us a heart, it’s because He wants us to use it! 

Shabbat Shalom

 

 

 

 

Friday, January 13, 2023

Thanks for What?

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I’ve known too many people in my life who have a “use them and abuse them” mentality. These egocentrics regard other people as servants and as a means to an end. They make their feelings pretty obvious that our existence revolves around their needs and ambitions. Once we’ve done all we can for them, our usefulness expires. They will find others to use and abuse. These thankless people may regard themselves as geniuses in their game of life, but the Torah regards them as Pharaohs, as arrogant enemies of Hashem.

We read in this week’s Torah portion, Shemot, about Joseph’s death and how “a new king arose over Egypt who knew not Joseph”-- the very Joseph who was the only man who could interpret Pharaoh’s dreams and who was appointed viceroy, standing only second to Pharaoh. The Joseph who made the country rich and saved it from ruin; The Joseph about whom  all of Egypt heard when his brothers had arrived. Yes, that famous Joseph, with a coat of many colors, who we all still know about thousands of years later, yet, somehow, Pharaoh just couldn’t seem to remember him. 

After all, remembering comes with a heavy price - we might have to say “Thank you.” We might have to repay kindness for kindness. And so, the new Pharaoh showed his gratitude by enslaving Israel and murdering their firstborn. Talk about appreciation! Some of our sages explain that the “new Pharaoh” was not a different person at all, but rather the very same Pharaoh who arose with a NEW attitude. Once the bad times were over, he figured the Jews were expendable.  He thought himself a G-d and didn’t want to be outdone or overpowered by the people who made him successful.  

The Torah teaches us a very different lesson about gratitude. After all the Egyptians did to the Israelites over their long years of slavery, the Torah commands us, “You shall not hate an Egyptian, for you were a sojourner in his land” (Deuteronomy 23:8). The Biblical commentator Rashi explains that we are not permitted to despise them because they hosted us in a time of need. The lesson should be clear: If we can’t hate those who tormented us because they were once good to us, imagine how much more we owe those who were good to us. We must appreciate and consider the efforts on their part which made our lives better and easier even if only for a moment. Sometimes it is just a single merciful moment that can save us from despair. 

Other examples in Judaism offer us sensitivity training and appreciation:  For instance, if we decide to change the mere casing of a mezuzah wherein a holy parchment was once contained, whether we change it to upgrade our decor or if the prior one was rotten or broken, it can’t just be thrown away in a garbage can. There is a respectful means of disposal;  Moses wouldn’t strike the waters and turn them to blood because the waters had once saved his life; We hide the challah on Shabbat under a cloth so as not to embarrass it when we first pray over the wine. All out of respect and gratitude. The Torah also prohibits needless destruction, directly or indirectly, of anything that may be of use to people.  

Thus, if inanimate objects which served us can’t be dismissed irreverently or disrespected, imagine how much more so are human beings to be treated with appreciation, dignity and gratitude if they helped us. When we are famished, it is easy to thank G-d for the sandwich in front of us. But the Torah commands us to say thank you also when we finish satisfying our appetites.  

It is actually only when we are in a perpetual state of gratitude that our best blessings are yet to come. “King Hezekiah had great messianic potential. G-d made great miracles for him...But because he did not sing a song of praise to G-d for the miracle, he was not appointed to be the Mashiach. (Sanhedrin 94a via Rabbi Avraham Arieh Trugman).  Gratitude is a fundamental of Judaism. In fact, the term "Yehudi"-- Jew, comes from the Hebrew name Yehuda, which means thanks and gratitude. It is thus from the tribe of Yehuda that the Mashiach will come.  

Everything comes from G-d. Even if we can’t stand the “messengers” He uses to execute His will, we have to be thankful. When we are not, we snub not only those who help us, but G-d as well. The Hebrew word for “thank you” is todah (תודה); When those same letters are permuted, they spell the word dotah (דותה) which means “illness.” When we are unthankful we are like an emotionally “sick” person and we separate ourselves from the Almighty. A thankless society is a Godless society.

It's funny because we often remember what we do for others, even the $5 we lent someone 20 years ago, and insist we are only upset "on principle" that they didn’t pay us back. But when we owe others, we can manufacture excuses a mile a minute as to why the account has been settled. We overvalue ourselves in the giving and undervalue favors when we are taking.  

At the end of the day, it all comes down to one thing. Are you a Pharaoh with a short term convenient memory? Have you rewritten history to fit your own narrative wherein you are a superhero and the other is vilified? Or are you a mensch? Are you a grateful person? Is “thank you” on your tongue; and even more importantly, is it in your heart and in your actions. 





Thursday, January 5, 2023

The Original


My whole life I always hated it when people copied me. I always deemed it as a form of identity theft. I know some will say imitation is the highest form of praise. But for me, imitation is the highest form of irritation.  And I’ve often racked my brain as to why it bothers me so much. Was I afraid that if you wore the same hat and ring that I would mistake you for me? At what point do I risk losing my unique identity altogether? And then I think about it another way and question whether those things which are copyable are really me at all. Some advise and say that if you’re being copied then you must be doing something right. But I’ve concluded that if I am copyable then I’m doing something very wrong. 

The problem with us is that we each think that the whole universe revolves around us. We live in a fractured generation that nurtures egotism with social media as its bolstering and enabling cohort. What good can come from that? The individual is entrenched in a world of  “I,” selfies and self-promotion causing brother to envy brother and friend to envy friend. Who really cares about their community anymore or even world events? Our potent egos have isolated us and desensitized us. This separateness is antithetical to creation where cohesion and oneness are essential for existence, where elements intrinsically know that they must function as a team, i.e. rain, earth, plants, air, in order for things to work. Like notes in a song which must come together to create a song; we humans must find our “note” and realize that no other can make our unique sound: D♭ (D flat) cannot usurp C# (C sharp). In addition, while copying another in envy we will always be singing out of tune. For each one of us is a unique soul and if we’d be truly pressing ourselves to extricate what is uniquely us we would be as inimitable as a thumb print; we’d love ourselves and all that we’d do in  a healthy way; and we would not be threatened by others nor feel the need to copy or envy them.

In this week’s parashaVayechi, the last in the book of Genesis, we read about the imminent death of Jacob who with foresight at the impending moment blessed his sons, the future tribes of Israel. His parting words were by no means a blanket blessing to wish his sons a one-size-fits-all good luck and farewell. Each son received a unique blessing which was intrinsic to his soul and his idiosyncratic and divine destiny. Each tribe would ultimately be represented by a precious stone embedded in the breastplate of the high priest when serving in the Holy Temple. Could the sapphire representing Issachar imitate the pearl which represented Zebulun? Could the emerald representing Judah imitate the turquoise representing Naphtali? Each gem has its own beauty and brilliance to reflect in the world.  Ultimately, scholars descended from Issachar, seafarers from Zebulun, leaders from Judah, judges from Dan, priests from Levi, etc.  Why even bother having 12 tribes if each was destined to be like the other.  Obviously, they were not. “All these are the twelve tribes of Israel...each man, according to his blessing, he blessed them.” (Genesis 49:28)

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When we become the best and highest version of ourselves, no one can steal our thunder because we own the sky.  Don’t tell Cecil B DeMille, but the Sages teach that when the Jews left Egypt the Re[e]d Sea didn’t split into two, it actually split into twelve paths, providing a distinct path for each of the twelve tribes. Each one of us should to take an honest, deep look at ourselves and find the gem within that is distinctly us. It’s not only about living a purpose-driven life; it is about living, in heightened form, our own unique purpose. Here I am now at my laptop, writing only what I can write. It is my purpose, it is my soul, it is my thumbprint, it is Aliza. Who are YOU?