To siyum or not to siyum is NOT the question Parshas Devarim

by Motzen | Aug 7, 2022 | Sermons

During the Nine Days of Mourning leading up to Tisha B’av, it is forbidden, according to Ashkenazic custom to eat meat (except for Shabbos). However, there is a loophole – if one attends a siyum, the celebration of the completion of a Mesechet or Tractate of Gemara, they can, at the siyum, eat meat.

Growing up, I recall friends letting me know they were making a siyum and inviting me to a private nine-days barbecue for their immediate friends and family. More recently this dispensation has arguably gotten out of hand. There are allegedly meat restaurants that make a siyum every hour so that the diners can eat meat. There are organizations that schedule their gala dinner during the Nine Days, advertising the unique opportunity to have a meat dinner during this time. They offer a meat dinner by inviting someone to join them and make a siyum. Someone recently suggested having a Nine Days hotel, with non-stop siyumim taking place so no one will heaven forbid go a week, or even a day without a steak.

We can chalk it up to an increase in materialistic hedonism in our communities, but the truth is, this has been going on for some time. Rabbi Yechiel Michel Epstein, author of the Aruch Hashulchan, the most important Halachic works of the 19^th century, lambasted these siyumim that were taking place in his time. He writes: “How are we not ashamed? Is it not true that many of the nations of the world have many weeks during which they refrain from meat, milk, and eggs? And we, the Jewish People, about whom the Torah says, “You shall be holy” are not capable of holding ourselves back for eight days in the year in memory of the Beis HaMikdash?!” (h/t R. Rael Blumenthal)

Now I’ll be honest, I am not so bothered by the eating of meat at a siyum during the Nine Days. Full disclosure, I made a siyum myself the other day. Sorry for not inviting you all… What troubles me is the mindset that often underpins this practice. You see, there are three possible mindsets when it comes to Jewish Law. The first often sounds like this:

“Rabbi, I need a heter, a loophole. I want to do X, I recognize it may not be ideal. Can you help me figure out a way to do what I want to do without transgressing any Jewish laws?”

This is what I call the ‘obstacle course mindset.’ Jewish Law being the obstacle course, me, with all my wishes and desires being the person stuck in this obstacle course, and the purpose of Judaism is to avoid getting stuck in the obstacle course while I try to get to my destination.  

I commend the people who live this way, I do. They obviously believe the Torah must be abided by. It is far better than those in the second category, who see the Torah as a ‘virtual reality obstacle course.’ This is the group of people who when they hit a wall in the obstacle course, they just remove the VR set from their head. To them, the Torah is not real, it’s a set of recommendations for when it’s not too inconvenient. So, I do admire people who believe with a full heart that the Torah must be observed at all times. But there is obviously something missing when our mindset is how can I do what I want without violating any Jewish law.

At one point I was using an app to help me eat more healthily. The way this app works is that you are given a certain amount of points each day and each food you eat costs you a certain amount of points. It’s a great app; you can scan the barcode of the food you’re eating and it will tell you how many points it will cost you and it really forces you to think about your food choices. But not all foods are in the database. Sometimes you have to input what you ate and try to figure out how many points it should cost you. And I remember one day, I was already low on points and I was kind of hungry, so I fudged the system: “Reeeeally, it’s not ice cream – which would cost me like 45 points. It’s really just churned milk, which is 2 points, and some sugar, 3 points, and some flavoring, another point. So really, it’s just six points.”

After devouring two pints of ice cream, I remember feeling quite silly. Who am I fooling? I am doing this because it’s good for me. This system was set up to help me eat more healthily. The only one who loses if I game the system is me.

So often we’re trying to game Halacha, Jewish law, but we’re only gaming ourselves in the process.

This week’s parsha begins with Moshe debriefing with the Jewish People before he hands over the reigns to Yehoshua. He spends some time reminding them of their many sins with the hope that they would grow from them and become better people. But one episode which he reviews seems a little out of place. He reminds them how at one point they shifted from Moshe being the only one who would answer all their questions to a system that trained thousands of others to address Halachic questions. That seems brilliant. That seems very efficient. That does not seem like a sin.  

But the commentators explain that yes, while it was very efficient, the fact that the Jewish People were completely comfortable with losing Moshe as the one they would approach with all their Halachic questions betrayed their real mindset towards the Torah – they saw it as an obstacle course. They saw the Torah as a burden, a set of restrictions that we were born into. And if that’s all they are, I rather just go wherever I find the greatest leniency, the most convenient pathway to avoid all those cumbersome laws. The last person I’d go to with my questions is Moshe!

 Had they really appreciated the Torah as the word of G-d, had they really appreciated the Torah as a set of laws that guide us towards the most elevated, ethical, and spiritual life, wouldn’t it be best to go to the source? Or at least as close to the source as possible?

The third and correct mindset is that the Torah is the pathway to life; not just in the world to come, but here on earth. The Torah and Mitzvos are meant to guide us through this jungle of confusion called life and give us clarity. How often are we unsure what is right and what is wrong in a given circumstance? How difficult is it to elevate ourselves and not get sucked into the rat race, hedonism, nihilism? Moshe was reprimanding the Jews for not having the right mindset; The Torah is not an obstacle course, it’s the most glorious, helpful, uplifting pathway known to mankind.

***

There is nothing wrong with eating meat at a siyum during the Nine Days. What is wrong is that we are living in a world in which it is so hard to see how the Torah helps us. What is wrong is that we live in a reality where what is the most precious gift feels like a terrible burden. What is wrong is that deep down or not so deep down, we all want to feel connection to the Author of those laws, but we can’t. What is wrong is how we confuse our physical hunger for a steak with spiritual hunger for G-d, and we end filling our life up with things that we know will never satisfy us.

Obstacle course mindset, VR obstacle course mindset, or the Pathway to Life mindset. In this world as we know it, it takes an incredible amount of effort to see the Torah in its true light. It is so much easier to be troubled by laws that grate on our “sophisticated” ears. It is so much more natural to see the Torah as a set of cumbersome restrictions getting in the way of my personal joy and satisfaction. And that is what we are mourning tonight and tomorrow.

The Bais Hamikdash, the Temple, was the nexus, the connection point between heaven and earth, between the physical world, and what exists behind it. When it stood, we didn’t need imagination or mindsets. We felt G-d’s presence as we studied His Torah or ate Kosher food. We stood in prayer and knew that we were talking to the Divine. We saw each sin as a flaming fire that would damage our pristine soul.

On Tisha B’av, I mourn for the disconnect. I mourn for the fact that I don’t see my sins as toxic waste eroding my soul. I mourn for the fact that I don’t see the explosive impact of a single Mitzvah. I mourn for the fact that I don’t notice the angels dancing very time I overcome a challenge. I mourn for the fact that I don’t feel Hashem holding me up in dark times and smiling with me in times of joy. I mourn for the fact that I sometimes find myself in an obstacle course instead of the pathway to an amazingly fulfilling life.

The rebuilding of the Bais Hamikdash begins when we realize what it is that we are missing. May it be rebuilt speedily in our days.   

Know Thyself Parshas Mattos-Masei

by Motzen | Jul 31, 2022 | Sermons

I recently saw what I thought to be the most brilliant advertisement. It was a large truck and on the side of the truck it had the words: “It’s what’s inside that counts.” Here’s where it gets good. When you think of those words, you think of not judging a person by their cover, and how our middos, our moral character is so much more important than how we look. Right? 

But this ad was an ad for Life Fitness, a company that sells exercise equipment. 

And so under the words, it’s what’s inside that counts, there was an image of the inside of the truck. And what’s inside the truck? Exercise machines. “It’s what’s inside that counts.” 

This ad caused quite a controversy with many people feeling like they were being disingenuous, that this ad was completely out of line with the products and the lifestyle they promote. How can a fitness company that normally highlights perfectly toned bodies tell you that what really matters is what’s on the inside?! What I think many people missed is that this ad was a perfect example of Knowing Thyself and having a deep and honest self-awareness. Let me explain: 

Who was the most successful leader of the Jewish People? 

Undoubtedly that award goes to Moshe. Leads the Jewish People out of Egypt, performs the most memorable miracles known to mankind, facilitates the receiving of the Torah, and leads the Jewish people to the doorstep of the Land of Israel. Moshe is the GOAT, there is no competition. 

But Moshe has flaws. Part of his greatness is that he is cognizant of his flaws. The first flaw we learn about almost causes him to not take the job, and the final flaw we learn about causes him to lose his job. 

What’s the first flaw, or more accurately, the first disability? Moshe’s speech impediment. When Hashem initially asks Moshe to lead the Jewish People, Moshe says he can’t because – k’vad peh anochi, I am a man with a ‘heavy mouth.’ Moshe, as we know, had some form of a stutter. His first role was that of a spokesperson. Standing before Pharaoh and stuttering is not intimidating, and standing before the Jewish People and stuttering is not inspiring. 

How did Hashem respond? Mi sam peh l’adam? Who gives man a mouth? 

?! What does this mean?! What kind of answer is that? 

Rabbeinu Nissim of Gerona, a 14th-century Spanish philosopher, shares a most beautiful idea: G-d was telling Moshe, “You think your speech impediment is a problem, an issue, something that will get in the way of your success as a leader of the Jewish People? It’s not a bug, it’s a feature! In order for you to be successful, you need to have that speech impediment!” 

Rabbeinu Nissim explains: The most important part of Moshe’s job was not to take the Jews out of Egypt, it was to help them receive the Torah. Moshe would be the one who would present G-d’s offer to the Jewish People: Do you want to receive the Torah? There are many laws, there are many responsibilities, it’s a big ask. 

Now imagine Moshe was not Moshe. Imagine Moshe was Rabbi Jonathan Sacks, and when he presented this question to the Jewish People, he did so with an English accent. Not only an English accent, but he first delivered the lecture of a lifetime; he wove together philosophy, stories, insights into the psyche of man, and all of this in his impeccable English, perfectly timed pauses, and brilliant prose. Frankly, by the time Rabbi Sacks would be done speaking he could sell me the Brooklyn Bridge. His eloquence translated into a magnetic charisma and he could talk you into just about anything. 

Now imagine Rabbi Sacks gave this delivery and the Jewish People answered their famous answer, “Na’aseh v’nishma!” We will do and we will learn!” and they accept the Torah. A few weeks later, or maybe a few years later, when the magic dissipates, don’t you think the Jewish People might make an argument that they never really willfully accepted the Torah? That they were inspired, enamored, swept up by Rabbi Sacks and his charismatic speeches that they said yes but they didn’t really mean it? It would be a pretty compelling argument, no? 

Says G-d to Moshe: “You think your ‘deficit’ your speech impediment is a ‘problem’? Who do you think gave you that speech impediment? I DID! And I did so for a reason! I did so because it was critical to your life mission!” It was critical for Moshe to not speak perfectly so that no one would ever say that they were duped, that Moshe, the used car salesman talked them into it. No! If you said yes, it was because you meant it. 

But G-d’s response is not just to Moshe; it’s to all of us. We all have our own ‘kvad peh’ our own impediments, be they physical, material, emotional. And what G-d is asking us to do is to stop seeing them as something that gets in the way and instead recognize that those ‘hindrances’ are a critical key to our life mission. That G-d gave us those handicaps, but not as a handicap, as a gift. For some, it’s figuring out how I can use that impediment to my advantage, like Moshe. And for others, it’s how I can overcome that impediment – that too is a life mission. To be born with something that can hold me back and to learn how to overcome. 

G-d is telling each and every one of us, “That feature that you’re so embarrassed of? That life circumstance that you can’t stand? I gave it to you. I gave it to you because I believe in you. Because I believe that you can transform that impediment into something beautiful. 

Sometimes though the goal is not to transform, sometimes we cannot even overcome, sometimes the goal is simply to be cognizant of our weaknesses, to learn how to see what’s in our blindspot. That too is an accomplishment and not a small order. And this brings us to the end of Moshe’s life. 

There is one consistent character flaw throughout Moshe’s life:

The Jewish People are told not to collect man on Shabbos, some people do. What does Moshe do? He yells at them. 

After the death of Nadav and Avihu die, the Kohanim leave an offering on the altar for too long and it gets burned. What does Moshe do? He angrily reprimands the remaining sons of Aharon. 

And of course, most famously, when the Jewish People complain about a lack of water, Moshe takes his staff and hits the rock. 

Moshe, Rav Chaim Shmuelevitz points out, struggled with anger. Over and over his anger appears. It causes him to forget laws that he had learned, as our Sages teach us, anger causes forgetfulness, and it causes him to lose his leadership through the infamous hitting of the rock. 

Despite the mishap at the rock, Moshe’s anger is still there. Once again, in this week’s Torah portion, we find him angrily reprimanding the Jewish soldiers as they come back from war. It never goes away. It never gets transformed into something beautiful. But Moshe’s greatness, in this instance, is his self-awareness.

How do we know that? When Moshe asks G-d for a successor, he has very specific criteria: “She’yehi sovel kol echad v’echad l’fi da’ato, that he will tolerate and will have patience for each and every person.” 

Moshe recognized his limitation. Moshe, despite being the greatest man to live, never fully transcended that character flaw but what he did do was acknowledge it. “I don’t have the requisite patience, please G-d, find a successor who does.” 

And that’s why I love that ad for Life Fitness. What is the biggest critique against a company that sells products that build your body and your body alone? The critique, the weakness, the deficit, is that by focusing on the externals, it ignores what really matters, what’s on the inside. Life Fitness leaned in, tongue-in-cheek, but they leaned in and acknowledged where they fall short. 

This is something every company and every organization needs to do. Acknowledge your deficit. And then you have to figure out, is this a deficit that can be made into a benefit? Is my speech impediment really a gift? Or maybe it’s something that really is a problem? In which case, at the very least, I’ll acknowledge it. 

I remember when I first became the rabbi of Ner Tamid and people asked me, who goes to the shul? Is it Modern Orthodox? Sort of. Is it traditional? Sort of. Is it for people who are newly observant? Sort of. Truth be told, it was awkward at first. But then I realized that’s not a weakness, it’s our superpower. There’s a word for that – we are the most diverse shul I am aware of! But there are other deficits that we have as an institution that we may not be able to reframe. And that’s okay. As long as we are aware of their existence they won’t hold us back. 

We just started the Nine Days of Mourning. In a week we’ll be sitting on the floor reminding ourselves of the destroyed Bais Hamikdash. Our Sages teach us that any generation in which the Temple is not rebuilt, it is as if during that generation, the Temple is destroyed. So instead of spending these days just thinking about what they did wrong, we need to ask ourselves, what are we doing wrong? What are our flaws? This is a question that needs to be asked as a community, but also for every thinking individual; do I know myself? Am I aware of my flaws? Because let me tell you, if you are not aware of any glaring flaws, then I could tell you what your flaw is, it’s a lack of self-awareness. Ein tzadik ba’aretz asher lo yecheta, there are no perfectly righteous people, only people who think they are. 

There is an apocryphal story told of Abraham Lincoln. Before he was president, he was a prominent lawyer in Illinois. One day, an inidvidual showed up in his office and asked him to help with some legal problems, but it would involve some shady business. Honest Abe said no, I can’t help you. 

The individual pulled out 50 dollars, a nice sum of money in the mid-19th century. Again, Lincoln said no. The man pulled out 100 dollars and put it on the table. Lincoln shook his head and said, no. Until the man pulled $500, equivalent to around $10,000, and at this point Abraham Lincoln  said: “Sir, everyone has a price and you’re getting awfully close to mine.” He picked the man up and threw him out the door. Know thyself; know your flaws and know your limitations. 

***

Life Fitness is right. “It’s what’s on the inside that really matters.”

They may not live up to that standard but at least, they know themselves. When we’re awake to our deficits and deficiencies, sometimes, we can transform that embarrassing flaw into a beautiful feature. But at the very least, the knowledge of our weakness is in and of itself the most incredible strength. 

Chasing Inspiration Parshas Pinchas

by Motzen | Jul 24, 2022 | Sermons

Introduction: More often than not, I write my sermon Friday morning. I knew this Friday would be a little busy so I woke up early and wrote it before davening. It was a wonderful feeling, some pressure of my back, and a certain lightness that accompanied me to shacharis that morning. After davening, Murray Friedman approached me and said: “Rabbi, I just want to confirm that the Haftorah this week is the special one for the Three Weeks, right?” 

He was right and I, had just spent a good amount of time writing a drasha that revolved around the wrong Haftorah… 

I quickly figured out what I would do, but I decided to have some fun with it and placed a poll on Twitter. I wrote: Rabbi Fail – I forgot that we switch this weeks haftorah because it’s the Three Weeks and spent the morning writing a drasha on what is NOT the Haftorah. Do I… 

I then listed three options and asked people to vote, which over 50 people actually did. Option one was rewrite the whole thing. 11% thought that was a good idea. I think that’s a chutzpah. Option two, voted on by 20% was, Use the D’var Torah, no one will know the difference… And the final option, the option that I decided already to go with was, Use the D’var Torah and acknowledge that I am human and make mistakes. And hope I don’t get fired for not knowing what Haftorah it is…   

Imagine the following scene – 

Rob and Ray over there grab water hoses and start spraying water all over and all around this pulpit. Like a LOT of water. Then, we turn the sprinkling system on (we don’t actually have a sprinkling system, but work with me) and it’s pouring water all over. And then, I lift my hands up like this, and yell: “G-d, if You exist, if You can see us and care about the decisions we make, if You want us to be meticulous in Mitzvah observance, if You want each of us to turn our lives around, then send down a HUGE fire from heaven and burn this pulpit to a pulp!” 

And then, a fire appears right above the pulpit, and slowly descends, and with all the water spraying everywhere, it consumes this pulpit in an inferno. 

Now of course the first thing that will cross your mind is, “Wow, I didn’t know the rabbi’s also a magician…” BUT THIS IS NOT A MAGIC SHOW! You’ll know, somehow, that this is legit. 

Would that change your life? A fire descending from heaven. It does not get more old-school miraculous than that. Would that change you? Would that make you a greater believer? Would that impact the way you daven? Would that change how you spend your Shabbos? Your every day? Knowing for a FACT – because you saw it with your own eyes – that G-d exists, that He sees you, that He cares about you. I can’t think of anything more inspiring or life-changing than witnessing a full-blown miracle. 

About two thousand five hundred years ago, your great-great-grandparents lived in Israel. They weren’t that different than us. They went to shul, they kept some mitzvos, they identified themselves as good Jews, buuuut they also did some other stuff that didn’t exactly fit that billing. They weren’t always so careful about this Mitzvah or that Mitzvah. They believed but they had their doubts. Sounds familiar? 

Eliyahu Hanavi, the great prophet, had a fabulous idea – I am going to inspire the Jewish People, by giving them the most magnificent, spiritual experience, so that this inner struggle, the inconsistency, the apathy, it will all be done with, once and for all. 

And so Eliyahu gathers the Jewish People to a Mt. Carmel, and he does exactly what we just envisioned. He takes an animal, places it on an altar, surrounds the altar with buckets of water, and then he prays. And in full sight of the entirety of the Jewish People, a fire comes down from the sky, lower and lower, and then burns the wet animal, sitting in buckets of water, to a crisp. You know what happens? 

The people go crazy – “HASHEM HU ELOKIM! Hashem is our G-d,” they yell out in a frenzy. Game over. Eliyahu nailed it. This is the life-changing, inspiring moment they’ve all been waiting for. Shabbos is going to be Shabbos; I won’t even dip my feet in the pool. Kosher is going to be Kosher; no messing around, even when I’m on vacation. I’m going to pray every day. Like, really pray. I might even show up to weekday minyan. I’m going to be kidn to people, not only in public, but behind closed doors. Torah study, lashon hara, you name it. 

And it works. This group of Jews who were, in the words of Eliyahu, posei’ah al shnei se’ifim, who were wildly inconsistent, they change overnight. 

But then, a day later, maybe a week later, it all falls apart. Despite that intense experience of rapture, it doesn’t stick. Before you know it, the Jewish People are back to their inconsistent, apathetic, Jewish life. 

***

Out of all the challenges people present to me, there is one that I really struggle addressing. I get some pretty wild and difficult questions sent my way, and they’re painful, they rip your heart to shreds, but I’m not afraid of them. But there’s one question that scares me: 

“Rabbi, I don’t feel inspired. How do I get back that spark of inspiration in my spiritual life?” 

You ask me that question, in my head, I run for the door. 

I’ll be honest, it’s embarrassing. You want to ask me why bad things happen to good people? I could spend the next ten hours giving you a lecture on the topic. Your relationship is on the rocks? I could try share some practical advice and happy to help finding you a good therapist. But the one question which is probably the most basic to my job – helping people feel connected to G-d, guiding people in finding a spark and passion, ensuring that there is a spirit of inspiration in our lives, that question… I can’t answer it. Or to say it better, I can’t answer it in a way that you, the questioner will be satisfied. And that’s a problem. 

If you’ve ever experienced that feeling of being really inspired – maybe you felt your breath caught in your chest, or the room expanding, or you felt absolutely certain about something, or total clarity, or just a sense that you were standing before G-d – that feeling is bliss, right?  But as we all know, those feelings don’t last for very long. And so those blissful feelings end up being the biggest tease. Because we know what they are; we’ve experienced them, they were awesome. But now we can’t. And so now, we feel like we’re groping in the dark. 

“Rabbi, I don’t feel inspired anymore.” 

“Rabbi, what do I do to feel connected?” 

“Rabbi, how do I recreate that amazing sense of connection that I used to have?” 

***

I’m comforted by today’s almost Haftorah. In the Haftorah we did not read, I learned that I’m not the only one who doesn’t know how to deal with this. Eliyahu Hanavi, after bringing that heavenly fire down to earth, after facilitating the most spiritual experience ever, after witnessing the Jewish People change overnight, and then witnessing them lose that inspiration entirely, he ran away. Now, part of the reason he ran away is because some people wanted to kill him. But he also ran away because he was experiencing an existential crisis; what did I do wrong? I did everything I can to bring the Jewish People back to G-d, and it failed. What else can I have possibly done to inspire the Jewish People? Eliyahu is down, he’s depressed, he can’t understand what went wrong. So G-d shows up and gives him a masterclass in inspiration and it goes like this: 

First G-d sends a powerful wind, and Eliyahu assumes, this is an image of G-d, but he doesn’t see G-d in the wind. And then G-d sends an earthquake, and Eliyahu assumes that G-d is found in that earthquake, but He’s not. And then G-d sends a fire, and Eliyahu just know that this fire is a representation of G-d, but it’s not. And then finally, G-d sends forth, a thin still voice, kol d’mamah daka, and G-d, we read, is found there, in that thin still voice.  

To paraphrase Rabbi Jonathan Sacks: G-d was trying to teach Eliyahu by not appearing in the whirlwind, by not appearing in the earthquake, and by not appearing in the fire, that G-d is not to be found in violent confrontation, in drama, with spectacle. Rather G-d is found in gentleness and the word softly spoken. G-d was telling Eliyahu that true G-dliness is found far away from the drama. 

And that’s why it’s so hard to guide people to be inspired. That’s why it’s so hard to say some words, and poof, the listener feels turned on. What we’re after is a fallacy. It doesn’t work. It’s not meant to work. 

Moishe Bane, President of the Orthodox Union, summed it up quite nicely in a recent article. He wrote: “Perhaps we confuse holiness with religious exuberance just as young people often mistake infatuation for love. Infatuation, though exhilarating and intense, inevitably fades. Authentic love, by contrast, builds slowly over time. An authentic relationship with our Creator is the same.” 

True love is not Hollywood. True love is showing up day in and day out. At times, it’s draining and difficult and not fun. Fireworks is getting the kids out the door in the morning. Passion is scrubbing the floor vigorously after someone spilled a bottle of milk. Romance is unplugging a toilet. 

But between all that, there are sparks, a smile, a gaze, a touch. There is richness, there is beauty, and there is love, but it’s found thin voice and silence. And that’s exactly how inspiration works. 

Can I invite you in to my davening experience? 

I daven three times a day, every single day. And almost every day, I take three steps back, and I try to speak G-d. I say all the words and I try to say them with meaning. But more often than not it feels like I am smashing my head against a wall. Lightly. The words aren’t going anywhere. They fall flat. I could feel them falling flat. And then – once every, I don’t even know, the room melts away, and the words are like magic, they roll off my tongue, and I sense, I know, that they’re connecting to Hashem, and I feel G-d’s Presence right there in front of me. And then, smashing my head against a spiritual wall for weeks on end. 

But that’s the only way it works, and that’s okay. Embrace it. Inspiration is found by showing up. Connection to G-d, that feeling of being lifted up and inspired is no different than love. You could dim the lights all you want, that’s not how romance works in real life. Day in and day out, consistency, the thin still voice, no drama. And in between the humdrum, the regular, the daily Mitzvos, the tefilos, the Torah study, that’s where love, and that’s where a deep and exciting and passionate connection to G-d is really found. 

We’re celebrating the Bar Mitzvah of Yehuda Friedman. Yehuda, it has been a pleasure watching you grow up, and I mean that literally. Wow. In addition to height, G-d gave you many talents and qualities; you’re creative, you’re an artist, a sensitive soul. You’re protective over your younger siblings, you’re doting on your mother. You’re responsible – if anyone needs their lawn mowed, let Yehuda know. And today, Yehuda, you’re beginning a journey called Judaism. 

Yehuda, I need to warn you – I hope over the next couple of years you have a wildy inspiring experience. Many of us, somewhere between teenagehood and young adulthood, have some life-defining spiritual experience that we never forget. But then, life’s going to get busy, you’re going to grow up, and you’re going to wonder, where’s that inspiration I once felt? Where’s that rush and intensity that I once had? Was it nothing? Can I ever access it again? How else will I feel connected to Hashem? How else will I feel inspired to be a good Jew? 

And I hope you remember this speech. I hope you remember the lesson from Eliyahu Hanavi, the kol d’mamah daka, that in the thin still voice, and know to look there for inspiration. 

But the truth is, even if you forget this speech, and even if you forget me, I’m not worried. Because you’ll have your Aba and Ima to look to. And you’ll see two paragons of quiet consistency, two people who if you look closely, glow ever so faintly, two people who so clearly are invested in one another, invested in you, and in their quiet and consistent way are teaching you what love really  is, love of a spouse, love of a child, but also the recipe for love of G-d: kol d’mama daka, that thin, consistent, and still voice. Don’t give up. Show up. Because that’s where the magic is found.  

When G-d says, Get Out! Parshas Shlach

by Motzen | Jun 26, 2022 | Sermons

Have you ever noticed the logo of the Israeli tourist ministry?

It is two men carrying a huge cluster of grapes.

You know, the spies from this week’s parsha who carry the fruit back to the Jewish People, then share a slanderous report about the land of Israel, using those fruit as props, then end up dying by plague, and causing the Jewish People to delay entering the land by 40 years. THAT’s the symbol they chose to use as the symbol of the tourist industry. What were they thinking?!

I’ve gotten over the many English signs in Israel with terrible grammar. Okay, they didn’t check in with one of the, I don’t know, two million English-speaking Israelis, fine. But this?! How could the State of Israel go ahead and choose, out of all the Biblical stories, the one story that represents such failure?! The one story that represents Jewish leaders sabotaging their opportunity to govern the land of Israel, the one story that represents a complete breakdown in leadership – how these spies could not rally around the leadership of Moshe, the one story that represents a group of leaders who for their own gain caused the Jewish People so much suffering…

Until I realized, wait a second, I cannot think of a story that represents the State of Israel better than the story of the spies! You know, the country that’s about to go into its fifth set of elections in three years, fifth! because none of the leaders seem to be able to get their act together. The country where the teachers are striking and not showing up to teach their classes. The country that just issued an unofficial suggestion to tourists to not bring luggage because there is so much chaos in their airports. Maybe spies carrying some grapes is not such a bad symbol for the State of Israel, after all.

Obviously, I’m being a little cynical, but it does beg the question – at what point in this experiment called the reborn state of Israel, would we say, maybe this was a mistake?

Let me explain what I mean: Over the past hundred years, there has been pushback in some Jewish circles about the legitimacy and appropriateness of creating a Jewish State. There is a Talmudic passage that, in its simple interpretation, indicates that it is forbidden for the Jewish People to reclaim the land of Israel until the times of Mashiach. Further, some Jewish leaders argued that there was a spiritual danger in living in a country that is Jewish, but not religious in nature. And lastly, some argued that it was a disgrace to have the holy land of Israel led by politicians who were not sensitive to the spiritual nature of the land.

The most famous and vocal opponent of the establishment State of Israel was the first Satmar Rebbe, Rav Yoel of Satmar. He dedicated a book to this topic; filled with argument after argument as to why the state of Israel was a terrible idea and a sin. He wrote this book in 1958.

However, in 1967, he felt compelled to write a follow-up book. Why? Because the six-day war, the miraculous success of the six-day war, seemed to be the nail in his ideological coffin. The fact that the IDF was able to defeat Jordan, Syria, in Egypt in such a short amount of time, the fact that Israel was able to more than double her land mass, and the fact that Har Habayit b’yadeinu; Yerushalayim and the Temple Mount were once again in Jewish hands, indicated to all that clearly, clearly, the State of Israel was no mistake. It seemed that G-d, through this victory was making it abundantly clear to all that the State of Israel was His will, not a sin! How else could one explain the miraculous nature of those six days? G-d was so clearly speaking to us and telling us, “You made the right choice!” G-d was screaming through the IDF, through the march of history, that He was happy to have us back in the land.

And so, Rav Yoel of Satmar felt the need to defend his thesis. He wrote another book, explaining how the six-day war was not the act of G-d. His book explained how people were misinterpreting these events, and instead, G-d was sending us a very different message.

Let’s perform a thought experiment, a very dark thought experiment – let’s say the six-day war did not go as it did. Let’s say the six-day war went ahead like some thought it would, with mass casualties and huge losses. The Satmar Rebbe may have written a very different book. This book would have been much easier for him to write. It would have pointed to the defeat, Heaven forbid, of the IDF, as a proof; as a message from G-d that we made mistake, that we should pack our bags and leave.

This argument, for and against the establishment of the State of Israel is based on a principle – G-d speaks to us through history. It’s certainly not as clear as the classical prophetic voice. But it is a communication and we’re obligated to listen to, to attempt to interpret, and to internalize. When things go well for the Jewish People, what does that mean, what is G-d trying to say to us? And when things do not go well, Heaven forbid, we also have to ask ourselves, what is G-d trying to say.   

Rav Yosef Soloveitchik reported that during the Holocaust, he used to be confronted by Christians who would say, “See! Clearly, G-d has forsaken the Jewish People. Clearly, you all made a mistake. How else could He be allowing this Holocaust to take place?!” It’s that same principle. 

Thank G-d, Israel is doing just fine. Chaos in the Knesset, yes. Bureaucratic dysfunction, yes. Splintering of society, yes. Fine. But there is also so much good. The tech boom in Tel Aviv continues to flourish. Official ties with Saudi Arabia seem to be around the corner. And for all the societal disunity, there is more and more overlap between the different segments of the country taking place away from the media and outside of the limelight of the political sphere. Baruch Hashem, the State of Israel is alive and well. Very well. But I return to my original question: what if it was not doing well? What if… and I rather not even say, but what if things were really not going well, how would we interpret that message? Would the Satmar Rebbe be vindicated after all?

After G-d informs the Jewish People that they would not be entering the land of Israel and that they would be spending the next forty years in the desert, a large group, recognizing that they had sinned, decided to right the wrong. They acknowledge that they should have believed in Hashem, they arm themselves and start marching towards the Holy Land. “וַיַּשְׁכִּ֣מוּ בַבֹּ֔קֶר וַיַּֽעֲל֥וּ אֶל־רֹאשׁ־הָהָ֖ר לֵאמֹ֑ר הִנֶּ֗נּוּ וְעָלִ֛ינוּ אֶל־הַמָּק֛וֹם אֲשֶׁר־אָמַ֥ר יְהֹוָ֖ה כִּ֥י חָטָֽאנוּ׃ In the morning, they went to the top of the mountain and proclaimed, behold, we will go to the place that G-d had told us about, because we have sinned.”

 Moshe tells them, “Don’t do it! G-d does not want you to do it.” And then Moshe says,

וְהִ֖וא לֹ֥א תִצְלָֽח

“And THIS will not be successful.”

 That’s weird. This, as opposed to what?

Says Rav Tzadok Hakohein (Tzidkas HaTzadik, 46) – Moshe was telling them, “Defying G-d by entering the land of Israel will not be successful THIS time. But there will be a time in the future that it will be successful; a time in which even if G-d says, no, you shouldn’t stop. Go anyway and you will be successful!” Meaning, even if the dreams of our enemies come true, Heaven forbid, we should not see that as a sign of G-d pushing us away from our land. No matter how bad it gets, no matter how much it may seem that G-d is telling us that this experiment is a failure, persevere, don’t give up, don’t allow those messages to deter you from staying in G-d’s home.

***

Rav Tzadok does not limit this idea to the land of Israel, he interprets this section to be relevant to the everyday life of every Jew. There is a passage in the Talmud that goes like this: Whatever your host tells you to do, you should. “Kol mah she’omer lecha ba’al habyais, aseh. Chutz, mi”tzei!” With the exception of the host kicking you out of the house. If he tells you to leave, tzei, you can ignore him.

What kind of strange etiquette did they have in the ancient world? Please don’t try that at my house. If I ask you to leave, I really need you to leave. What in the world does this passage mean?!

Rav Tzadok explains that the Gemara is not talking about social etiquette, how to be a guest. It is describing our relationship with G-d. G-d is the host (not the ghost). G-d is in control of the world. Whatever he tells us to do, we need to listen. “Kol mah she’omer lecha ba’al habyais, aseh”

But there’s one exception. Sometimes G-d seems to be pushing us away, sometimes, we feel like we’re trying so hard, but everything is going wrong. We’re working on ourselves endlessly, but we keep on falling short. We want to connect to Hashem every time we come to shul, but we feel like He’s ignoring us. Sometimes, the messages we are receiving from Hashem seem to be telling us, “Tzei! Go away. I don’t need you here.”

And to that Talmud responds. Yes, we must listen to G-d. Not only must we listen to the explicit messages of the Torah, but we must also listen to the implicit messages, the messages of our life, asking ourselves constantly, what is G-d trying to tell me? And then live our lives accordingly. “Kol mah she’omer lecha ba’al habyais, aseh.”

But there’s one exception. There is one message we have every right to ignore. “Chutz, mi”tzei!” When we feel down, when we feel distant, when we feel turned off, don’t take that to heart. Push on. Forge forward. Use that beautiful Jewish characteristic called chutzpah. No matter how many times Hashem says no or He says go, we have a right and an obligation to refuse, to stay put, and to say G-d, I am not going anywhere. I am staying with You.

Those two people carrying that huge cluster of grapes, they remind us that G-d does want us in His home. Yes, there was a time when He said, no, when He said, leave. But now, in this pre-Messianic era, even if He tells us to leave, even if, Heaven forbid, all goes bad in our precious homeland or in our own spiritual lives, even if it feels like He wants nothing to do with us, we will push forward, we will not listen. V’hi sitzlach. And we will be successful.