by Ner Tamid | Nov 3, 2023 | Sermons
Day One of the Orthodox Union United We Stand Mission
Ben Gurion is a ghost town.
In the void are signs, every few feet, for bomb shelters.
It’s not a depressing silence.
Everyone in that airport has purpose in their footsteps.
We’ve come to fight. We’ve come to help. We’ve come home.
Nearly every passenger from the US is carrying anywhere between 2 and 13 duffel bags.
I told them at customs my bag was filled with clothing for soldiers.
That’s what they told me.
It was filled with medical supplies.
The soldier looked at the supplies, looked at me, shrugged his shoulders and let me through.
Handed the bags to some off duty soldiers who were waiting for me. A quick embrace before they went back to their base.
We’re all family, bringing packages for our loved ones.
The highways are empty. I’m waiting for foxes to run across Kvish Echad.
But we’re not crying.
We’re all Rabbi Akiva.
Here to give hope and to experience the eternal hope of the Jewish People.
The hotel – this is the third hotel we booked as the others got filled up with displaced people, is now a refugee center.
A Bat Mitzvah is taking place.
Strangers off the street come to give the girls some joy.
Kids running through the halls.
Pressing all the buttons on the elevator.
Fighting ever so hard to just be normal.
How many people from the south told us tonight that they said shema on October 7th, thinking it was their last prayer? How many parents described giving out kitchen knives to their 13 year olds?
Who dared awaken these old plotlines from books from the crusades, movies of the Holocaust. What are they doing here?! In Israel?! In 2023?!
There are words that keep on being repeated: “Miracle” “Hashem was watching over me.” “Achdut!!”
The last time I was here was August and I’ve only been here a few hours, but I can confidently say, this is a new people; a people awakened from a deep slumber, a people energized with unity, with faith, and with resolve.
It’s midnight. There’s a cool breeze outside, blowing hope through the streets of Jerusalem. We have been knocked down. But we are anything but beaten.
Day Two of the Orthodox Union United We Stand Mission
There’s just too much to share and emotions that are too raw to unpack. So I’ll just share a single moment –
In Chevron, we learned that one of the soldiers stationed there got married a few days ago. Immediately after his wedding he went back to serve. Because that’s what you do in a time of war.
He didn’t have any sheva berachos. However his battalion decided to surprise him and brought his newly wed wife to their base for an impromptu sheva berachos. We crashed and this is what we experienced.
You can watch a clip of the sheva berachos here: https://www.instagram.com/reel/CzFAG-JrU7r/?utm_source=ig_web_copy_link&igshid=MzRlODBiNWFlZA==
V’haikar lo l’facheid klal.
May Hashem give them the strength to not be scared and to return home in safety.
Day Three of the Orthodox Union United We Stand Mission
It’s a pretty holy group of people I’m traveling with. Leaders of their community, international teachers of Torah, and just plain old good people. Despite their collective stature, there’s one sentiment I’m hearing from them over and over: “The people here are just on another level.”
The parents whose child is in captivity who affirms his faith in G-d’s plan, the father who just buried his 19 year old son who affirms his faith in the holiness of the land, the secular soldier who thanks us for coming to the kotel to pray, the unit whose job it is to identify bodies who have been pulling 24 hour shifts who have seen and smelt and touched the most horrific sites who somehow danced with us affirming their faith in the eternality of the Jewish people with huge smiles on their faces…
These are not rabbis or spiritual gurus. These are doctors, mechanics, college students, teachers…
To be in their presence pushes you, it opens your eyes to how shallow our version of spirituality is.
My dear colleague, Rabbi Larry Rothwachs, a different level individual in his own right, commented today how he’s afraid that whatever new vistas have been opened to us will be lost when we return, he wonders how long it will last. Those concerns shook me to the core.
I’m afraid it won’t even make it off the tarmac. It’s like those bottles of ‘Israel air’ they used to sell in the shuk.
We shouldn’t kid ourselves, the holiness of Israel cannot be imported. The people are different because the air is different. Or maybe it’s the other way around.
I’m already checked in to my flight tomorrow night, the ominous countdown has begun. But I’ll be back. We’ll all be back. Our soul is drawn to holiness like a magnet. No amount of missiles and no amount of terror can hold her back.
And even if we only stay for a few days, we can still walk these holy streets, breathe the holy air, and hug the holy people of Israel who are radiating their holiness now more than ever.
Touching Down in the US
The commentators question why it is that Hashem made Noach save the animals. Why couldn’t G-d save them on His own?
“Olam chesed yibaneh, the world is created on kindness.” There is a principle that for the world to form it must be built on kindness. This is not only a mystical idea, but practically, the world cannot function unless there is kindness at its core.
The pre-flood society had devolved into a jungle where each person or tribe was focused entirely on themselves. That world was destroyed; it simply could not go on. Hashem asked Noach to look out for the animals as He wanted to ensure that the new world will be founded on the most important quality – chesed – only then would the world endure.
This past year was a low point in the history of the State of Israel and the Jewish People. Our differences seemed unbridgeable, our shared values seemed to not be enough to hold us together.
That world experienced its own mabul on October 7th; destruction and devastation beyond description.
In its place a new world is forming. Every Israeli citizen has been mobilized not to fight but to unite. Charedi teens are cleaning understaffed hospitals in Tel Aviv. Senior citizens are picking fruit to help farmers. Communities are creating massive meal trains for all the mothers whose husbands are on the front lines. One Israeli told me, “There are more volunteers than opportunities to help.”
“Olam chesed yibaneh, the world is created on kindness.” There is a new world forming and at its core is unity and kindness.
***
I’m about to land in Newark airport.
My heart is always in the east, but now more than ever, I want to be a part of the revolution of kindness that is sweeping across the land.
Below you will find a video and letter from a soldier to whom we brought cards drawn by children. I had assumed that these hardened soldiers, and these ones in particular whose job it was to deal with the dead, could not care less for silly cards. Boy was I wrong.
We can still be a part of the revolution from across the Atlantic. We have and we will continue to think and pray for the people of Israel – aside from its intrinsic value, they appreciate it more than you can imagine. We have and we will continue to fundraise unprecedented amounts of funds to help support the people of Israel – they need it now and they will need it for the long haul. We have and we will continue to do anything we can for them, up to and including drawing pictures, thanking the brave men and women of Israel.
But perhaps even more importantly, we can and we will rebuild our own world; maybe it wasn’t as broken as Israeli society, but our community too faces its own share of challenges. We can commit to rebuilding it it before it is destroyed.
My heart is not in the east. My heart is with my people, in Israel and in my backyard.
by Ner Tamid | Oct 21, 2023 | Sermons
Imagine Noach in his teivah.
Stuck in a structure for an entire year.
Imagine how claustrophobic he must have felt. The screams of the animals. The stench.
I wonder if he missed his neighbors, his cousins, his parents. All dead.
Imagine his dream at night – if he slept at all. The hellish nightmares that surely woke him up in a cold sweat.
If you look at the back wall of the shul, you will see the faces of a hundred people who know exactly how Noach felt.
If these men, women, and children, ranging from the age of 3 to their 80’s are even alive, they are most certainly feeling claustrophobic right now.
They are surrounded by people speaking a language they don’t understand. They hear missiles falling, sirens, and screams.
They may have just witnessed their family members or friends murdered in front of their eyes. Or worse, they have no idea what happened to their loved ones.
I can’t imagine they are getting any accurate reports.
And the nightmares. With no one to soothe them. To hold them. To tell them it’s going to be okay.
Not to compare in any way because to do so is an insult to the horrific experience these hostages are experiencing right now – but in our own way, we are all feeling claustrophobic right now. We’re all feeling boxed in, suffocated. Someone bumped into me quite physically at the subway station the other day. Was it a mistake or was it deliberate? Are people looking at us different or is it just our imagination?
You don’t have to be a conspiracy theorist to think the world is out to get us right now. Did you read what our “best and brightest” signed on to at Harvard and Penn?! Our future doctors, lawyers, and judges. Our future leaders?!
Have you seen the protests across the country where the thin veil of anti-Zionism has been dropped and antisemitism is on full display?
Like Noach, we’re all feeling short of breath; walls moving in; trapped.
***
The Torah describes the dimensions of the teivah and then adds an intriguing detail. “Tzohar taaseh lateivah, a tzohar should be made for the ark.” The Medrash relates a debate as to the meaning of this word. Rabbi Abba bar Kahana suggests that it is a window. Rabbi Levi suggests that it is a special stone that gave off light. On face value, they are debating where the light of the teivah came from, a rather technical architectural question. The first opinion suggesting that the light came from outside, whereas the second opinion arguing that there is no light outside during a vicious storm, and therefore it must have come from this special shiny stone.
But perhaps there is more at play. Perhaps Rabbi Abba bar Kahana is teaching us a relevant and personal lesson. Perhaps the window of the teivah is meant to teach us that when one feels lost and alone, when one feels like they are locked away from the rest of society and begins to give up hope – look out the window! There is always more than meets the eye. There are always people out there who can help you. As Mr. Rogers would say, “Look for the helpers.”
As dark and lonely and depressing as it is to be a Jew right now, there is also a lot of light outside. For example, the vast majority ofAmerican political leaders who are strongly supporting the Jewish People. Or the French government who attempted to outlaw supporting Hamas. Or the leadership of Germany and England who made solidarity trips to Israel. And of course, President Biden’s historic trip to Israel, lending Israel’s fight against Hamas international legitimacy, and providing all forms of needed aid to the citizens of Israel and the IDF.
As claustrophobic as we all feel, there is a lot of light shining through.
But Rabbi Levi reminds us that there isn’t always light coming in from outside. Imagine once again those many hostages who are all alone, hidden in some bunker in Gaza. They don’t know that much of the international community is cheering them on. They have no clue that President Biden just visited the region. They’re probably being fed lies day and night. They’re probably being told that Israel is losing the battle, that Hamas is winning the war.
Says Rav Levi, even when there is no light coming in from the outside, even when you are enveloped in darkness, there is a tzohar, a precious stone, that can give off light. It is possible to find hope in the midst of a terrible storm.
In the sixth century BCE, Jerusalem was surrounded by the Assyrian forces. The Assyrian army was the mightiest in the region, wreaking havoc and devastation everywhere they turned. These were the same Assyrians who conquered the Northern Kingdom of Israel and obliterated the ten tribes who lived there. Chizkiyahu, the king of Judea, was given the opportunity to surrender, but he chose not to. “I have a tradition from my great-grandfather, King David,” he proclaimed. “Afilu cherevchuda al tzavarecha, even with a sharp sword on your throat, we do not despair.” (Talmud, Berachos)
No nation provided any military support to King Chizkiyahu. And yet, the Judean Kingdom survived. All those nations who didn’t come to the aid of King Chizkiyahu, the Babylonians, the Edomites, the Moabites, they are gone. The Assyrian army is a relic of history. And yet, the Jewish People are still here.
I hope and I pray that those 203 hostages who have no window to the outside world, can draw upon that inner hope that has shined for us for so many years. I hope and pray that those 203 hostages who have no window can find their own tzohar, something to keep them going, as they face unimaginable horrors.
But you and I, as claustrophobic as we may feel, we are not stuck. You and I can do something for those trapped inside. And we must.
Do you remember how the Jewish world was turned upside down a few years ago when the three teenagers were kidnapped? Remember what we did and said for 3 people? There are now 203 who have been kidnapped!! 203 sets of mothers and fathers and children crying their eyes out!! I imagine we are all just so overwhelmed by all the news that we haven’t let it sink in that 203 men, women, and children, who are being held by people who a few days ago, violated, decapitated, burned and destroyed entire families.
There was some discussion among the shul leadership before putting those signs up in the back of the shul. We wondered if it’s too intense.
But we decided to go ahead with it, precisely because it is so intense; we cannot afford to lose sight of what these 203 hostages are going through.
So we will look into their eyes, we will read their names, we will be shocked at their ages. And now we have to ask ourselves, what can we do? I’d like to share 3 suggestions:
1) Contact your congressman. Thank him for supporting Israel and beg him to do everything in his power to bring these hostages home.
2) Show up. There are vigils, there will be rallies. Every person in attendance makes a difference. We can’t afford to say we don’t have the time when 203 people are trapped in Gaza and all alone.
3) Pray. “Afilu cherev chuda al tzavarecha, even with a sharp sword on your throat, we do not despair.”
G-d willing, we will have a chance to one day meet one of these 203 hostages. And we will be able to look him or her in the eye and say, I did not give up. I thought of you, I prayed for, I fought for you.
May we see that day bimheira v’yamenu, speedily in our days.
by Ner Tamid | Oct 15, 2023 | Sermons
I received a call this past week from someone in Israel. He told me he had a question, but he couldn’t get the words out. Finally, through the deep breath and sobs, he managed to ask, “How can I pray?”
He is involved in emergency work and so he got wind of what was going on Shabbos morning. And he told me that when he heard that something was unfolding in the south, he prayed like he never prayed before. He poured his heart out, begging G-d to have mercy.
But then the news started to trickle through, and then pictures started to emerge. He found out what happened to the innocent, to the elderly, to the men, to the women, to the infants. “Where is G-d? How can I pray?”
As he was speaking, I remembered my grandfather who had a similar question. My grandfather told us how he would pray every single day, Shacharis, Mincha, and Maariv. But on Rosh Hashana, he watched as hundreds of children were led to the crematorium. The next time he tried to daven, he simply forgot the words.
He never told us how, and I wish I had asked him, but eventually he did find the words. Ultimately, he became a chazzan leading others in prayer. I knew there must be a way forward.
So let me tell you what I told this young man – truly the least inspiring message I could share – but it’s true:
Nowhere in the torah does it say that if we pray G-d will answer.
Nowhere in the Torah does it say that those who are good will be rewarded and those who are evil will be punished.
You may be wondering, yes it does? The Torah constantly talks about reward and punishment in this world. It talks about evil people getting punished. The righteous being rewarded?! It speaks of the power of tefilah?!
It does. In the context of a Messianic era. In the context of a time when the Temple stands. In the context of a time when G-d’s presence is among us.
At such a time, we will see justice in the world; those who are morally bankrupt – and my oh my, how many we are seeing today, they will be eradicated from this earth. At such a time, those who are holy will shine. At such a time, will pray and feel G-d before us.
But right now? In a non-Messianic era, the Torah tells us what we will experience, a reality described as Hester Panim; the hiding of G-d’s face.
In such a reality, nature is in control; the righteous suffer, the evil prosper.
In such a reality, we pray, and we feel like we’re talking to ourselves.
That is what hester panim is – G-d is not looking at us; He’s hiding.
People tell me in general they struggle with prayer – of course you do! G-d is hiding. And when some rabbis try saying, just pray harder, just pray better, and you’ll feel it. That’s all you need to do! They’re right in that you may feel a little bit, prayer can be the most exhilarating experience possible. But you won’t feel G-d’s presence fully. I am sorry to say they’re lying to you. Not in this world you won’t, not before Mashiach comes.
People wonder how such bad things happen to good people – this is precisely what hester panim means; that G-d allows us to be ruled by the random rules of nature. And when some rabbis try pointing out the divine plan in everything around us, “you just need to look harder.” They are lying to you.
And then people wonder, they may not say it out loud, do we really need a Messianic era?
Part of that is our fault, the rabbis’ fault, for painting such a perfect picture of Judaism; for claiming that Jewish Law is perfect when without a Sanhedrin, a grand court, it is broken; for claiming that what we have in Israel is so great, when without a Bais HaMikdash, it is incomplete; for claiming that if we only prayed more or better we could hear from Hashem, when G-d is hiding His face; for claiming that if we just had a more positive perspective we would see the Divine Hand, when it’s not true; the Divine hand is in self-imposed exile.
I understand why you struggle to pray, I told this young man. I understand why you struggle to see G-d’s hand. He’s hiding, and I’m sorry that we claimed otherwise.
Now I know this sounds like the most depressing message possible, but I don’t think it is. Allow me to share with you an analogy:
I wake up every morning and the battery on my phone is at 100%. The green rectangle is full. As the day progresses, the green gets smaller and smaller, and eventually, it turns yellow. When it turns yellow, it means the phone is on ‘battery saver mode.’ Battery saver mode kicks in when the phone knows that it is soon going to die and in order to keep it going, it shuts off certain applications, and it slows down. This mode allows the battery to preserve itself.
When G-d told us in the Torah that when He destroys the temple, He will hide his face, He could have so easily just “shut the phone off” and left us with no connectivity whatsoever. Instead, He provided us with battery saver mode. Yes, prayer is difficult, excruciatingly so, but at times we can still feel an incredible connection. Yes, Jewish Law is not perfect, but it’s still glorious and magnificent! Yes, bad things do happen to good people – but sometimes we do get to see G-d’s hand!
We could have had nothing. G-d could have hidden His face entirely, but He chose not to. And to think and to know that in this time of hester panim, despite not having everything, we do have a land of our own, we do have an army that will fight back – and a brave and amazing army! And we have unity once again like never before! To think that in Tel Aviv, just a few days ago, they had to call in the army to break up fights among fellow Jews! And this week, all striped of Jews gathered in those same squares to pack bags for soldiers!
And to think that during this time of hester panim, we have been able to maintain our faith, that my friends, is remarkable. That, my friends, is worth celebrating.
When Bibi Netanyahu was heading to the UN assembly for the very first time as an ambassador for Israel, he stopped at the Lubavitcher Rebbe for a visit. And he asked the Rebbe advice; “The UN is a place that is not very friendly to Jews or to the State of Israel. How will I manage?”
And the Rebbe famously replied, “It’s a dark place. But one small candle, one small light can banish a whole lot of darkness.”
Yes, it is a dark world. It is especially dark this week. For those of us who forgot that He has been hiding His face from us for 2000 years, we were given a rude reminder this past week. But there is light!
There is light in the outpouring of support from the world around us!
There is light in the precious unity that we are experiencing!
There’s light in the incredible chesed and tzedakah that we have all been a part of!
And let’s not just see the light. Let’s add light; through our prayers, through our extra Torah learning, through our charity, through our unity and kindness.
AM YISRAEL CHAI!
We will prevail.
We will keep on seeking out the light,
And we will keep on adding our own light until the ultimate day of light. Until the day we merit the original spiritual light of creation, a world in which we can see and experience G-d and all of His goodness, bim’heira v’yameinu, speedily in our days. Amen!
by Ner Tamid | Oct 2, 2023 | Sermons
My very first Chol Hamoed Sukkos in Israel started off terribly. The first two days of Sukkos were beautiful; I had pleasant meals with relatives and slept comfortably in the sukkah. But after Yom Tov was over, I headed to Meah Shearim to partake in the many Simchas Beis Hashoeva celebrations that I had been hearing about from my friends. “They’re awesome.” “They’re so spiritual.” “What a unique experience.”
These celebrations go all the way back to the time of the Bais Hamikdash. The Jewish People would gather in the courtyard of the temple for an all-night party celebrating the forgiveness that we just attained over Yom Kippur. The leaders of the Jewish People would lead the way with juggling and dancing and there are many tales told of their acrobatic feats. The Talmud relates that “one who never saw the joy at the Simchas Beis Hashoeiva never experienced joy in their life.” Talk about hype. Of course, the Talmud was referring to the original in the Bais Hamikdash, not the celebrations in Meah Shearim, but still I was quite excited to see the continuation of this tradition for myself.
I got to Meah Shearim, met up with my friends, and we started going from shul to shul. Each celebration had their own unique flavor. One place we went to was known as the dryer – as in a clothes dryer. The dancing there is as chaotic as dryer. People holding hands and running in every direction at high speed. It’s nuts. We went to another place where they were known for singing really loudly. The rumors were true. It was deafening. We went from simchas beis hashoeva to simchas beis hashoeva. Everyone around us was happy but me and my small group of friends, we just weren’t feeling it. We weren’t connecting to it in any way.
Another friend called us and told us we were in the wrong place – he told us we need to go to Yeshiva Merkaz Harav. This is the yeshiva founded by Rav Kook. It is the flagship religious Zionist institution. So we headed over there. It was definitely very festive, and we tried to get into it. At one point I was standing near the band – there was a band performing – and I must have been standing right under the trumpet player and all of a sudden, I felt a huge glob of wetness on my face. I am told by professional trumpet players that it is not spit, it is condensed water. You could call it whatever you want, it was gross.
We left.
It was midnight. Everywhere we went people were laughing and dancing and joyous, and we weren’t. It’s a pretty lousy feeling to be surrounded by such joy and to feel so distant from it. It’s a very lonely feeling. To go through an experience that is supposed to be spiritually uplifting and not feel uplifted at all, is kind of crushing.
I imagine some of you may have felt this way on Rosh Hashana or Yom Kippur, maybe this year, maybe in years past. People around you are into the services and you’re not. You know you’re supposed to be feeling something and you can’t feel anything at all. It’s lonely and demoralizing.
Rav Moshe Schreiber, otherwise known as the Chasam Sofer, one of the most influential rabbis of the 19th century, has a beautiful and pertinent thought about the holiday of Sukkos. There is a debate in the Talmud about what we are commemorating on this holiday. Rav Eliezer says that we are commemorating the clouds of glory that surrounded the Jewish People as they journeyed through the desert. Rabbi Akiva argues and says that we are commemorating actual booths that the Jewish People built for themselves in the desert. But here’s the problem – the Torah tells us explicitly that there were clouds of glory that surrounded the Jewish People. There is no mention of the Jewish People building booths and why would they? They had these miraculous clouds that protected them from the elements?
Suggests the Chasam Sofer, Rabbi Akiva agrees that there were clouds of glory that protected the Jewish People. But the Torah also teaches us that certain individuals had to sometimes leave those clouds of glory and live outside the Jewish camp. People who were tamei, impure, people like the Metzora, individuals who had a form of skin disease that indicated that they had sinned. Such people, due to their state of impurity, were forced to leave the clouds of glory and stay by themselves, away from everyone else. Those people did not have clouds of glory to protect them from the beasts of the desert. These people did not have clouds of glory to protect them from the elements. What did they do? They built huts. Sukkos mamesh.
What Rabbi Akiva is suggesting is that on Sukkos, we are not commemorating the nation of Israel being surrounded by clouds of glory – as great as a miracle as that was. We are commemorating the individual Jew, the lonely Jew, who was not connected to the nation in that moment, who felt alone, who felt broken, who felt lost. Who nonetheless was protected by G-d even though he or she was not surrounded by the clouds of glory. That is what, or rather, who, we are commemorating on this holiday. The Zohar writes that the Sukkah is meant to be a hug from Hashem. It is a hug to the solitary Jew who is all alone.
And that’s what Sukkos is meant to be. You may feel distant, you may not feel loved by G-d, you may not feel connected to your fellow Jews, you may not feel inspired by religious experiences. But then you go into your Sukkah. Simple walls and roof, no rituals you have to do. You just sit there surrounded by G-d. A hug from Hashem for those of us who do not feel connected.
At about midnight that evening on Chol Hamoed Sukkos, my friends and I had given up on having an uplifting evening. We were walking by the central bus station, the tachana merkazi. We were hungry – we were 19, we were always hungry. So we bought some danishes and beer from a convenience store, and sat down in the small sukkah outside. One of my friends started singing, and we joined him. A few minutes later, a woman who was carrying a whole bunch of bags with her – she seemed homeless, joined us. A little while later, a young chossid came in the sukkah as well. More and more people joined us in this little sukkah. We bought some more food, some more drinks. People shared stories and we sang. More stories, more songs. It was the most beautiful simchas beis hashoeiva I have experienced in my life.
Sometimes we need to go off the beaten path to reconnect. Sometimes we need to be a little bold, we need to try something new and different to get that spark of spirituality that we crave. Sometimes we need to leave our comfort zone, sometimes we need to leave the clouds of glory because that’s the only place we can really find ourselves.
The Sukkah is a reminder to all those who feel disconnected, all those who feel impure, and all those who feel lost and alone, that Hashem is still there with you and He’s giving you a hug.
by Ner Tamid | Sep 27, 2023 | Sermons
Tonight, in shuls across America, rabbis are talking about “hamatzav,” the situation in Israel. In some shuls, there are rabbis lambasting the chareidi community who are growing in size and are not contributing enough to the Israeli economy nor serving in the IDF. In other shuls, rabbis are criticizing the secular community for forgetting that Israel is a Jewish State not just a state for Jews. And yet in other shuls, it is the religious Zionists who are being attacked for their brazenness in leading the charge on judicial reform. Personally, and truly with the greatest of respect, I think all those rabbis are wrong. Not wrong in their opinions, but they are wrong for bringing this up on Yom Kippur.
“Ki bayom hazeh y’chaper aleichem mikol chatoseichem, for on this day, you will be forgiven of all your sins.” Yom Kippur is a day of repentance, it’s a day dedicated to personal transformation. In what way do we become better people by discussing who is right and wrong in Israel?
Am I concerned? Oh yes, I am. Should the future of the State of Israel be a focal point of our prayers on this holy day? Absolutely. The prayer of “simcha l’artzecha, bring happiness to Your land,” has never been so pertinent. But simply talking about it this evening will not help in any tangible way. You want to make a difference? Invest in Israel Bonds, pray. But speaking about what this group or that group is doing right and wrong in Israel and expecting that to move the needle? It’s as ludicrous as suggesting that we straighten that pole over there with the Israeli flag, and by doing so, it will bring a positive resolution to Israel’s political nightmare. That crooked pole has been driving me crazy for the past year…
In his best-selling book, The 7 Habits of Highly Effective People, Stephen Covey introduces the concept of the Circle of Influence and the Circle of Concern. We all have a circle around us of the people that we are able to influence with our actions or words; family, neighbors, community, co-workers. For some of us, our circle of influence is larger and for some of us it’s smaller, but we all have a circle. Then there is the Circle of Concern. In this circle are the people or events that we are concerned about.
“Proactive people,” writes Covey, “focus their efforts in the Circle of Influence. They work on the things they can do something about. Reactive people, on the other hand, focus their efforts in the Circle of Concern. They focus on the weakness of other people… and circumstances over which they have no control.” What Covey was trying to say is that a healthy individuals’ circle of concern is as big as their circle of influence – their concern matches up with the amount of influence they have. An unhealthy person’s Circle of Concern is far larger than the circle of influence – they waste endless energy and attention on people and events well out of their control.
There’s a beautiful story my friend Rabbi Benji Goldschmidt reminded me of. It’s a story of a Lubavitch chossid who was imprisoned in Russia many years ago. In his cell, there were a number of men who would play poker. Only that in this jail, it was illegal to play cards. Every once in a while things would get a little rowdy and the guards would come running in looking for the cards. But every time they came in, they could not find the cards. They’d strip-search the inmates, they’d check under the beds, in the ceiling. The cards could not be found.
After this happened a number of times, the chossid turned to one of his fellow inmates and begged him to tell him how they managed to always hide the cards. “Easy,” he said. “We’re professional pick pocketers. When the guards come in, we slip the deck of cards into their pocket. Right before they leave, we take them back. They look everywhere, but they never look on themselves.”
We could spend this evening and spend the next 25 hours pointing fingers at this group or that group of Israelis who are destroying our country. There are people who spend a lifetime pointing fingers at everything that’s wrong around them, but they never look in their own pockets.
The Baal Shem Tov, the founder of the Chassidic movement, had a transformative teaching that can help us close the gap between our circle of concern and our circle of influence. He would often say, “Everything you see, everything you hear, is a personal lesson from G-d.” Whether you believe that to be the case or not, imagine living your life with such a mindset. If you read in the news about a tragedy that took place in Libya, there is a message there for you. If you watch the Orioles clinch a playoff spot, there is a message there for you. What the Baal Shem Tov did was acknowledge that our concern, our interest may go well beyond what we can influence – but that’s such a waste. So we bring those interests, those concerns back into our circle of influence by internalizing, by making it about us and how we can change. “Everything we see, everything we hear is a personal lesson to be learned.”
So when we see our fellow Jews in Israel who are not doing enough for their country, we need to ask ourselves, are we doing enough for our country? For our community? For our shul? Are we really carrying our part of the burden or are we allowing others to do all the work?
When we see our fellow Jews in Israel who want to diminish the Jewish character of the State, we need to ask ourselves, do we wear our Judaism with enough pride, or do we attempt to blend in, to be just like everyone else?
When we see our fellow Jews in Israel pushing their view without broad consensus, we need to ask ourselves, how well do we listen to those around us? Do we care what others think or do we bulldoze ahead because we know we’re right?
The Talmud observes (Yoma, 43b) that the Kohein Gadol in his service on Yom Kippur would first bring a sin-offering for his sins and the sins of his family. Then and only then, after atoning for his own sins, would he bring a sin-offering for the sins of the Jewish People. In a similar vein, Covey points out that those who focus on what they can change, on their circle of influence, such people, with time, tend to expand their circle of influence – those are the people who end up changing the world.
Are things broken in Israel? Yes, they are. But today is not a day to point an accusatory finger across the ocean. It’s Yom Kippur, it’s a day for real change. 25 hours of focusing on our circle of influence, of putting our hands in our own pockets, of trying to change the one person we have any chance of changing – ourselves.
