Before every Bar and Bat Mitzvah I meet with the family to discuss their big day. At the end of our conversation, I often turn to the boy or girl and ask them if they have any questions for me. They usually meekly shake their head no and say a silent prayer that the meeting should quickly come to an end. But Simcha Schwartz surprised me and said, “Yes, I do.” And he went on to ask me an amazing question from this week’s Parsha:
We read something called the Tochacha today – it is a long list of curses that will befall the Jewish People if they do not obey the Torah. And Simcha, who studied his Torah portion, said, “That’s not fair! Our great-great-great-great-great-grandparents accepted the Torah at Sinai. They are responsible to keep it. But what does that have to do with me? I never accepted the Torah? How can I compelled to keep something that I never agreed to? Why would I get punished for breaking an agreement that I never made?”
It’s a good question, no? Why are we obligated to keep the Torah? Because my great-grandparents did? Because a mohel gave me a bris when I was 8 days-old and had no say in the matter?
Simcha, I want to share with you an answer, which at first may seem like a stretch, but bear with me until I am done. Deal?
Rav Yaakov Weinberg of blessed memory, one of the Roshei Yeshiva of Ner Yisroel asked this same question – you are in good company. And he shared the following answer:
You have been Simcha Schwartz since you were born. Was there ever any point when you were someone else? No, of course not. You started off as baby Simcha, and then you grew and grew. And now you’re 13-year-old Simcha.
But that’s not entirely accurate. The molecules, the particles of your skin and bone, almost none of them are the same ones you were born with. Those molecules are dying off and regenerating every moment. The heart that you were born with is not really the same heart. And the brain and the blood from your brain is not the same either. And yet, you still consider yourself the same person. When you look at a baby picture, you say, “Look, that’s me!”
The same is true for the Jewish People. Were we at Sinai? Did we accept the Torah? Yes, we did. The Jewish People did. And although the particular molecules that stood there are no longer, we are a continuation of them, we are the same, we are one. I am bound by my ancestor’s agreement the same way I am bound by decisions I made twenty years ago even though the physical matter of Sruli Motzen from twenty years ago is no longer.
Now you may be thinking to yourself, I don’t want to be part of this mega-Jewish Person thing. I want to be on my own; I want to be my own person. Well first of all, too bad. Molecules do not get a say in the matter and neither do you. But before you jump to any conclusions, I’d like to point out that this ‘being part of a Jewish nation’ goes in two directions. We are connected vertically to the very first Jews who committed to this incredible enterprise called Judaism, but we are also connected horizontally, to every Jew across the world, who will give the shirt off their back to help you.
Let me share with you two stories that will help you understand how significant this is:
If you travel through Tel Aviv right now, you will see signs from the municipality of Sderot. One of the most amazing stories that is not being told is what is happening with the significant amount of displaced people in Israel. The northern cities are empty and many in the south are still unable to return home. Where are these displaced people? They have been welcomed with open arms by their fellow Jews. For almost a year! So much so that the government of Sderot felt the need to take out huge billboards thanking the people of Tel Aviv for welcoming them with open arms.
This could only happen on such a large scale because the Jewish People see themselves as one, as a family, as one unit. Ingrained in every Jew is the notion that we are connected; acheinu kol beis Yisroel. And you, Simcha, have received this education from your parents. Your father’s career is focused on feeding Jews; what greater form of togetherness than that! And your mother has been an exemplary volunteer at our shul since the day she joined. Your family Is not living life in a vacuum; they see themselves as part of a community.
Story # 2- On Thursday, I had the honor of spending some time with Motty and Shiri Twito. Their son, Eyal, who spent some time volunteering at Ohr Chadash Academy in 2019, was tragically killed in January when he and some fellow soldiers were hit by an RPG. Motty and Shiri were in town to help fundraise for an organization that helped them with their grief. They described to me how they refused to speak to anyone after the death of their beloved son. They could not bring themselves to experiencing any joy, it was an exceptionally dark time. But then this organization, with their Shabbatons full of inspiration and meeting others in a similar situation, really changed everything.
Beautiful, right?
It gets better. Motty and Shiri are Daati-leumi, religious Zionists. The man who runs the organization they were here to promote is a Chassid. Together, they looked like an odd couple; two strapping, tanned, Jews – tiny kippah on Motti’s head, a little scarf covering a small part of Shiri’s hair. They’re sitting with a Chossid with his long coat and scraggly beard, who is looking out for them, providing them with relief and support.
And it gets even better. You know who got this Chossid started? You know who paid for the very first Shabbaton that he hosted for bereaved families after October 7th? A Satmar Chossid. Satmar is an anti-Zionist group. They object to the existence of a State of Israel. But there’s a Jew in pain – yes, this Jew’s daughter was dancing at a rave festival on Simchas Torah, yes, this Jew’s husband fought for the IDF, yes, this Jew’s father lived on a Kibbutz that was avowedly atheistic, none of that matters. They are Jews and we are connected.
***
Who here wants a good and favorable judgment this High Holiday season? We all do. So let’s take this idea one important step forward. I want to share with you something personal, but I think it is important to share in this context:
When I was in tenth grade, I decided to not speak on Yom Kippur. There is a tradition of not only abstaining from food on Yom Kippur but also abstaining from talking. It is called a Taanis Dibbur – a speech fast. It’s an incredible experience; it feels like a cleansing. We say so many silly words every day; inane conversations, filling the silence, sometimes we gossip or worse. And for 24 hours the only thing that came out of my mouth was prayer.
Then about 15 years ago, I started working for a group that did outreach – meaning, we taught classes and ran services for unaffiliated Jews. Part of my job was to attend Yom Kippur services with this group. There was no way I could maintain this Taanis Dibbur. I had to do Hataras Nedarim, which I did; I annulled the implicit vow to not speak on Yom Kippur. But I was quite disappointed. I really got a lot out of those 25 hours of silence.
I was speaking to a rabbi I was close with, and I shared this with him. I probably thought he’d be like, “Wow, I cannot believe you used to not speak for 25 hours…” But that’s not what he said. You know what he said?
“FOOL! You are a fool!”
“Not speaking for 25 hours is very nice. But when you stand before G-d on Yom Kippur as an individual who does not speak with others, you are standing as an individual who does not speak with others. G-d will judge you alone and that’s a pretty scary thought for G-d to assess your worth in a vacuum.
But this year, you are going to be connecting to your fellow Jew. You might end up talking about sports or politics, but you are connecting to a fellow Jew. And you will stand before G-d in a group of people. He will see you as part of a whole. When He sees you in a group, He judges the group together. And when you dedicate yourself to that group, G-d sees how valuable you are to His children, and that generates a radically different and far more compassionate judgment. You are lucky to be going into the High Holidays with a group of people that you will support and you will connect to.”
The best way to get a favorable judgment this year is to not go inward but to go outward. If you are hosting meals this Yom Tov season, there are so many people who would appreciate an invitation. More effective than the most heartfelt prayers is G-d seeing us share our blessings with others. 3-day-Yom Tov is a scary thing, especially for people living on their own. If you are not hosting meals, pray for others. If you are able to, give more tzedakah to help the many people in our community who are in need. Share their burden. Show G-d that you are part of the whole, that you are not an individual, you are part of the Jewish People. There is no such thing as a lone Jew; the quicker we embrace that, the more we live that, the better off we will be.
Yes, we are held accountable by the commitments of the Jews who came before us. But we are also held tight but the Jews who live around us. The sooner we embrace the reality that we are all connected, the better off we will all be.