by Ner Tamid | Nov 24, 2024 | Sermons
Ladies and gentlemen, I have solved our fundraising challenges once and for all. I came up with an idea so good that we will never ask you for money again.
I present to you- 
A strikingly similar piece of art was sold by Sotheby’s this past week for 6.2 million dollars.
Do we have an opening bid??
Maurizio Cattelan is the creator of this piece. Apparently, it took him years to come up with this. It took Hindy five minutes to put it together.
Maurizio, in one interview, explained that the meaning behind this masterpiece was to highlight the absurdity of our subjective likes and dislikes. In other words, why does one piece of clothing sell for hundreds and a similar piece of clothing, made of the same material, sell for less? Why were pleated pants and shoulder pads seen as out of style a few years ago and now are the height of fashion? It’s absurd.
As an annoying father, I sometimes challenge my daughters to explain why they think this or that skirt or dress looks cool, or “preppy” in their parlance, or why they would not be caught dead wearing browns two years ago, but now browns are in.
Our taste is more than subjective; it’s fickle. It’s easily manipulated by a myriad of psychological and social forces.
His observation, in my opinion, is not worth 6.2 million, it’s priceless.
Let me explain:
There is a major debate among the medieval commentators about the existence of a bashert, what some would translate as a soulmate. A Gemara in Sotah teaches us that 40 days before a person is born, a voice rings out from the heavens stating, “This boy will marry that girl,” – they are meant to be. According to this approach, dating is about finding your destiny. If you find him or her, you will live the most blissful life. If you don’t, good luck. Being single just got a whole lot more stressful.
Then there are others, like the Rambam (Shmoneh Perakim) and Meiri (Sotah), who, based on other Talmudic passages, rejects this out of hand. There is no one person you are destined to marry. There is no such thing as a bashert.
Now it’s not my place to weigh in on a debate between Torah luminaries. But if I was forced to choose, I would tell you that the opinion of the Rambam, that we do not have a bashert, is far healthier to live by. And that’s because those who subscribe to the bashert view will invariably wake up one day, maybe after a week-long fight, and say, my wife or my husband is not feeling very bashert-like right now. I think I chose the wrong person.
But if you subscribe to the I-could-have-married-almost-anyone-in-the-world view, this was never THE ONE. It was simply the person you committed to come what may.
Our feelings are fickle; they come and go. If this piece of garbage could sell for 6.2 million dollars, what does that tell you about our feelings of love and attraction towards a significant other? Bashert today; bozo tomorrow.
But maybe marriage is more than a feeling? Maybe marriage is not about two people falling in love – or about finding their other half? It’s about two people committing to stay and stand in love.
Tish Harrison Warren, an Anglican priest and a very thoughtful writer, once wrote about the challenges she and her husband faced in their marriage. She then went on to describe how society’s view of divorce has changed over time:
“There was a time, not long ago, when getting a divorce in America was prohibitively difficult. That left individuals — usually women — stuck with philandering husbands and in abusive and dangerous marriages. Divorce is at times a tragic necessity. I’m very glad it is available.”
So am I.
“But,” she continues, “now the pendulum has swung so far that surrendering personal happiness to remain in an unfulfilling marriage seems somehow shameful or cowardly, perhaps even wrong.
We hear stories of people leaving a marriage as an act of self-love, to embark on a personal, spiritual … journey of self-discovery. … In contrast, the story of someone staying in a disappointing marriage for the kids or because of a religious commitment or for some other similarly pedestrian reason is, at best, boring. Worse, it seems inauthentic and uncreative, lacking in boldness and a zest for life.”
For Warren, this commitment to staying married even when it seemed to make no sense, eventually bore fruit as he and her husband now share an imperfect but beautiful relationship.
Our parsha highlights a most imperfect union. Yitzchak and Rivkah could not be more poorly matched (see Netziv); he was old, she was young. He was intense, she was meek. She was born to idolators, he was born to the first Monotheist. And yet, “vaye’e’haveha,” he loved her, and she loved him. It was a commitment and a choice that would override all the tension that existed between them and would keep them together through all the challenges they faced. Love is a verb; we don’t passively fall into love – certainly not the lasting type. True love, lasting love, is born out of a commitment to stay committed even when we don’t feel it.
And I must add, what is true for a relationship with a spouse is true for our relationship with Hashem. How often do I hear someone tell me how they are just not feeling it; they are waiting to be lovestruck, they are waiting to be inspired by Judaism, they are waiting until they feel close to G-d. And until that time, they ask me, why should they bother praying? It feels so inauthentic.
Let me share with you something I learned over the past few decades. I grew up in a home in which we did not say, I love you. It wasn’t that we didn’t love each other, we did, it just wasn’t a phrase that we used.
My wife, on the other hand, grew up in a home in which they always said I love you. Like most things in my home, we defer to Hindy. And so, we always say, I love you. Before the kids go to sleep, I love you. When we get off a call, I love you.
Growing up, I remember there being times when I felt like I wanted to convey the fact that I loved my parent or sibling but I just did not have the words; it was incredibly awkward for me to use that phrase.
And now, as someone who says, I love you, to my children, do you think I only say when I mean it? Of course not! Sometimes I mean it, and sometimes what I really mean is, you are being so obnoxious right now, and I need to get off this call, I love you. But I still say it, because I’m committed to them.
Do I feel like praying every day? No. Do I feel connected to Hashem every time I stand before Him? I wish I did. But I’m in a relationship with Him, and so whether I feel it I not, I show up.
And just like a daily I love you, my daily prayer builds and maintains a bridge, so that my love and my relationship has somewhere to live and flourish. (H/T to Dr. Rivka Press Schwartz)
There was a couple I once met with; they were going through a very difficult patch, including infidelity. We fell out of touch and when I saw them again a few years later, the husband told me that their relationship was flourishing.
I remembered being so frustrated talking to them; nothing seemed to get through. The husband had decided that he made a terrible mistake. What happened, I asked him.
He sheepishly smiled: “I made a choice.”
“I chose to be attracted. I chose to see the good. I chose to be more thoughtful and understanding.”
This does not mean that if you are single you should go to kiddush today, find the first person you see, and propose. This most certainly does not mean that if you are in an abusive relationship or even a relationship that you have invested in endlessly with no reciprocity that you should stay put. Divorce exists for a reason.
What it does mean is that all of us who are blessed to be in a relationship should perhaps stop getting so caught up in our feelings; they come and go; this banana will be spoiled by tomorrow. Instead, we can all choose, and we can all commit to working a little harder.
by Ner Tamid | Nov 10, 2024 | Sermons
This past Sunday a letter was circulated in my little rabbi world. The authors of the letter were looking for more rabbis to sign on to their letter titled, Orthodox Rabbis Endorse Kamala Harris. It cited Trump’s values and character as reasons to disqualify him from office. It did not take long for a new letter to start circulating, called, you guessed it, Orthodox Rabbis Endorse Donald Trump. It cited Trump’s impressive track-record supporting Israel as the reason Jews should vote for him.
And then… a third letter circulated! Oh, rabbis…
This message, which was the most popular, suggested that rabbis should not get involved in politics whatsoever.
I signed on to none of them. Not the rabbis against Trump, not the rabbis for Trump, and not the rabbis who said rabbis should not weigh in on politics.
Let’s begin with the group that argues that Rabbis should not get involved in anything partisan. Of course, there are legalities. I am not allowed to tell you who you should vote for from this little perch. But if we met on the street and you asked me who I am voting for, or even who you should vote for, I am allowed to share my views. There is also a question of strategy – is it wise for the Jewish community to publicly endorse one party if the other party will likely be in power in the next few years? But the most fundamental question is this – should we use the Torah to influence our political views, or should Judaism remain apolitical?
I know this will be quite off-putting to some of you, but to me, suggesting that Judaism should stay out of the public and political arena is comical. Prophets, from Moshe onward, were constantly advocating for political change. The Torah’s legal system directs behavior not only in the privacy of one’s home but in the public sphere as well. Avraham takes down four superpowers, Moshe stands up to the injustices of Egypt, and every prophet’s main role was to criticize the immoral policies of the ruling king. Of course, Judaism is meant to be a vehicle for political change.
The oft-quoted “Render unto Ceaser the things that are Caesar’s, and to G-d the things that are G-d’s,” is found in the books of Matthew, Mark, and Luke. Yeshaya and Yonah would laugh at such a sentiment. Does anyone really believe that the Torah has nothing to say about the weighty topics that this and every election revolves around? Really??
You might be wondering, if the Torah does indeed have what to say about public matters, what does the Torah say about who we should have voted for? Why did I not sign on to either one of those letters – Rabbis for Trump or Rabbis for Harris?
You may accuse me of being afraid to offend people in the shul, and I am sure that blind spot is at play, but trust me, by the time I am done this morning, I will have offended everyone here…
Let me share with you an old poem by John Godfrey Saxby.
It was six men of Indostan
To learning much inclined,
Who went to see the Elephant
(Though all of them were blind),
The First approached the Elephant,
And happening to fall
Against his broad and sturdy side,
At once began to bawl:
G-d bless me! but the Elephant
Is very like a wall!
The Second, feeling of the tusk,
Cried, Ho! what have we here
So very round and smooth and sharp?
To me tis mighty clear
This wonder of an Elephant
Is very like a spear!
The Third approached the animal,
And happening to take
The squirming trunk within his hands,
Thus boldly up and spake:
I see quoth he, the Elephant
Is very like a snake!
The Fourth reached out his eager hand,
And felt about the knee.
What most this wondrous beast is like
Is mighty plain quoth he,
Tis clear enough the Elephant
Is very like a tree!
The next one grabs the elephant’s ear, the next one grabs its tail. You get the point. And this is how it ends:
And so these men of Indostan
Disputed loud and long,
Each in his own opinion
Exceeding stiff and strong,
Though each was partly in the right,
And all were in the wrong!
And I know what you’re thinking, I can’t believe Rabbi Motzen spoke about an elephant and not a donkey!!
In all seriousness, are we not all blind to some degree? Is it not incredibly hard to see the entire picture with all its vast complexity?
The Gemara tells us that in ancient Jewish history, to be elected to the Sanhedrin, Judaism’s equivalent to the Supreme Court, you had to suggest 50 reasons why something the Torah lists as impure, tamei, is actually tahor, pure. What that means, explains the Maharal, is that the highest level of intelligence, the prerequisite for sitting on the highest court in Israel, is the ability to not see things in black and white, to recognize that even if in the final analysis something is impure, something is wrong, something is evil, but nothing is absolute. There are 50 pure features in something that is ultimately impure.
To those saying, of course, Trump is better for Israel and for the Jewish People, I ask you, are you familiar with Bret Stephens, a proud Jew, a staunch conservative, someone who believes that Israel’s strength is needed for the wellbeing of the planet, who nonetheless, begrudgingly voted for Harris?
To all those saying, of course, we cannot vote for Trump because of his character and temperament, I ask you, are you familiar with the millions of Never Trumpers who changed their tune and begrudgingly voted for him?
As you know, I am Canadian, and I do not vote. But if I was not so lazy and took care of the paperwork, and finally became an American citizen, I know who I would have voted for.
But can I understand the individual who shares virtually the same Jewish values as I do and who chose to vote for someone else? Yes. Yes, I do. To take one complicated topic – abortion. The Halachic position does not fall neatly into either party’s ideology.
And that’s why I would not have signed on to the Rabbis for Trump or the Rabbis for Kamala. Because I cannot in good faith tell you that voting for this candidate is mandated by the Torah.
Last and most important point – Reena, our Bat Mitzvah girl, is multi-talented. She is bright and athletic; apparently, she’s a great goalie. She is musical and has the most easy-going personality. You’re just an awesome person. But Reena’s favorite talent is her artistry. At Kiddush, you’ll see one of her many paintings; it’s excellent.
Reena, I have a question for you – when you’re drawing, you know what you are trying to create, right? But if I were watching you sketch, would I necessarily know? No, not at all. If anyone here has ever played Pictionary, you know how long it takes to recognize what is being drawn.
There are people in this room who woke up Wednesday morning elated; Trump is going to be amazing for the economy and for the Jewish People. And there are people in this room who woke up Wednesday morning despondent; what will be with our civil liberties and human rights?
Sometimes when we are so stuck in the moment, we forget that there is Someone up there painting this picture. Before making a covenant with Avraham, G-d asks him for one thing – Heyeh tamim, which Rashi translates as, “Walk with G-d wholeheartedly. Put your hope in Him. Do not attempt to investigate the future.”
Anyone with the most rudimentary knowledge of history knows that presidents who were expected to do X, did Y, who was supposed to be bad for Israel, were good for Israel, who was supposed to kill the economy, enabled it to flourish. Heyeh tamim, “Do not attempt to investigate the future.”
G-d is throwing splotches of black paint here and brilliant reds there. He is erasing and redrawing. He is sharpening and smudging. When watching the Artist of artists painting, do we really have the hubris to say we know what this picture will look like?
Of course, we have to do our part. Of course, we have to ensure that it is our Torah values that influence our every decision, including political decisions. But to be overjoyed because (quote) “these next four years will be amazing?” Or to fall into despondency? Whether it’s over the elections or even over the horrendous news coming from Amsterdam? Yiush?! Giving up hope?!
Hold on. He’s not done drawing just yet.
We have no idea what comes next on the canvas of world history. And so we pray, and we trust, and we march forward.
And as we cautiously do so, we try to appreciate the colors that don’t always speak to us, and when we do so, we start to realize how all the colors, all those differing opinions, are not clashing, but bringing out the best in one another, and creating a brilliant mosaic.
Reena, keep painting your beautiful pictures, and may we all merit to see the day when the final painting will be unveiled.
