Nitzvaim-Vayelech: Thought for this time of year

Every Elul, I participate in a phenomenal group of women who share divrei Torah throughout the month (and into Tishrei, until Yom Kippur). This is my piece this year, which tied in to the parsha:

This week’s parsha is a double parsha that is known by the name of Nitzavim-Vayelech, And they stood-And he went. The two parshios have fascinatingly different tones of voice. The first parsha, Nitzavim, is deep and heavy and frightful. Moshe declares to the people: “You are all standing here today…”to enter the covenant before continuing on to reiterate the horrible fate that awaits Bnei Yisrael should they go astray. Vayelech, on the other hand, has a much gentler tone as Moshe speaks in the first person, inducting Yehoshua and comforting the nation that even if they fall, Hashem will uphold His covenant.

There are, it would seem, two primary approaches to the month of Elul. (1) Watch out! Elul is coming, and so it is time to tremble at the awe of the upcoming days. There are countless descriptions of the great fear and trepidation the greatest of our leaders feel at this time. But then there is (2) the Elul of Ani l’dodi v’dodi li – I am to my beloved and my beloved is mine – when we are constantly reminded that “The King is in the field” and that Hashem wants us to approach Him and to bring Him our personal requests.

So which is it? Am I supposed to be worried and fearful and scared of being judged? Or am I supposed to be joyful about the opportunity of getting closer to Hashem? Fear and Love don’t feel like emotions that one can embrace at the same time. And neither is easy; both paths are incredibly difficult. Most of us have moments of true awe, an honest feeling of tension at the idea of being judged. But we don’t really live with it. There’s too much going on. And the same can be true for living with the constant energy for seeking out Hashem in the field. I desire to seek out my relationship with Hashem all the time but reality puts me at about 4%, if I am being generous.

The double parshios of this Shabbas remind us that these two perspectives on Elul, on life really, can and do exist side by side. “Nitzavim – And they stood” is a parsha that evokes trembling. It starts with the declaration of the eternity of the covenant, describes the depth of anger against anyone turning against Torah, and concludes with the imperative to choose life. This is the awesomeness of Hashem. As we enter Elul and move into Tishrei, we are standing in a spot to perceive the greater picture, to understand that as members of Bnei Yisrael, we are part of something much bigger and far grander than our own simple lives, but that we have deep and specific responsibilities.

“Vayelech – And he went” is a softer parsha. It is a parsha of encouragement presented in the first person. It is a parsha that reminds us of Ani l’dodi v’dodi li. Because there is in it an inference of second chances and new opportunities. Giving second chances is the essence of belovedness.

I have always preferred to focus on the Ani l’dodi, the seeking out a relationship, figuring out how to crown Hashem anew in my life. I avoid the fear and trembling – not because I don’t think it is important but because I don’t know how to even get close to it, let alone achieve it. But in putting together my thoughts for this dvar Torah, I have come to see how the two are really one. A relationship requires work and attention and responsibility. The fear - the trembling -- is not fear of punishment but rather the fear of disappointing Hashem because “I am to my Beloved as my beloved is to me. “ And because I fear disappointing Hashem, I must seek Him out in the field and enhance the relationship by reminding myself that Hashem wants to do for me and all I need to do is reach out.

Good Shabbas

And Shana Tova if I don’t get time to post.

Elul 2021 - Learning from the Women of Rosh Hashana

 This year I dedicate my Dvar Torah to my amazing sisters, none of whom are biological but all of whom have given me so much helpful love and support.

 

In honor of these wonderful ladies, this Dvar Torah will focus on the women of Rosh Hashana. It is interesting to note that when the sages chose the portions of the Torah and the Neviim to be read on Rosh Hashana, the primary focus, specifically on the first day, is on women. The Haftarah of the first day, the story of Chana, is commonly discussed in its connection to the holiday, but if you ask most people what the Torah portion of Rosh Hashana is, the response is the Akeidah. However, the Akeidah is not read until the second day of the holiday and the first day is the narrative of Sarah and Hagar.

 

While there are many explanations of why these portions were chosen, what stood out to me was that in studying Sarah and Hagar and Chana and Penina, we discover a stunningly complex portrait of human emotions. This could be said about many places in the Torah, but the emotions in these portions contain important lessons to us as we face these auspicious days each year. Let us look at them each more closely:

                                 

Penina: As it is written in the text of Shmuel, Penina is a minor but greatly flowed character. She was Elkana’s other wife, who had proven herself quite fruitful (10 children) and who is noted for having taunted Chana “Moreover, her rival, to make her miserable, would taunt her that the LORD had closed her womb. This happened year after year: Every time she went up to the House of the Lord, the other would taunt her, so that she wept and would not eat” (Shmuel I 1:6-7). The Midrash tells us, based, perhaps, on the fact that the text highlights that she did this most when they went up to the House of the Lord, that Penina taunted Chana with the intention of pushing Chana to pray.

Regardless of her intentions, she caused Chana tremendous amount of pain. Eventually, the blessing (her 10 children) which she had wielded as a cudgel became the source of her sorrow as, also according to the Midrash, they perished parallel to Chana’s own growing family. It took the death of eight of her children for her to gather herself and seek out forgiveness from Chana, which she was immediately given.

Rosh Hashana is the Day of Judgement, but it is also the day on which we coronate the King of kings. We do so by acknowledging that God is omniscient and omnipresent, that God knows what each of us needs and when. Had Penina simply loved her children and appreciated her own blessings, rather that use her blessings as a way to taunt Chana, then no consequence would have ensued. Yes, she should have encouraged Chana to pray, but flaunting her own bounty was not the appropriate way to do so. Rather she should have separated the two actions, encouraged Chana to pray and loved her children to raise them up in the ways of Hashem. In this way she would have demonstrated her true gratitude to the King of kings.

Hagar: Hagar is one of the most complex characters in the Torah. It is easy to see her as bad because it is human nature seeks a villain to contrast our heroes, but the truth is never that simple. We are first introduced to Hagar when she is presented to Avram for a wife to bear children by Sarai. The Midrash tells us that she was from the royal court of Egypt and that she chose to be a handmaid to Sarai because she was aware of the uniqueness of Avram and Sarai. When she becomes pregnant immediately, the relationship of Hagar and Sarai devolves. She was rude and arrogant to Sarai, and Sarai was cruel to her. Eventually Hagar fled and was then sent back by an angel. She loses that baby but quickly becomes pregnant again, gives birth to Ishmael, and all seems fine for many years until they are sent away by Avraham at Sarah’s insistence. In the wilderness into which they wandered, Hagar gives up on her sick child, lays him by the well, and sits down to cry. While the Torah states that God hears the cries of the boy, He responds to Hagar and promises her that he will live and thrive.

Although some criticize Hagar for giving up on her son, for placing herself far from him when she expected him to die, this story also teaches us about tears. It is ok to cry. On Rosh Hashana, as we stand before the King of kings and we wish to beseech him for help, it is ok to cry. It is ok to ask. And when we ask, miracles can happen. This seems like an obvious message, but if many people are like me, this is far more challenging than it seems. In our culture today we are taught not to ask for help, to be strong and available to help others. But when things get tough… it is more than ok to cry.

Sarah: Sarah’s emotions throughout her long involvement with Hagar are quite fascinating. She must have had some level of trust and appreciation for her handmaid to choose her as a second wife for Avram, to choose her to be the one to have a child, and yet once Hagar is pregnant, it causes her a tremendous amount of pain. It was probably not just Hagar’s behavior, her loftiness, that led Sarai to afflict her, but a level of pain sourced from her own burning desire to have a child. The Torah makes is clear, however, Sarai treated Hagar so harshly that Hagar fled. Once she returned, however, we hear no more of the dynamics between the two women. When Sarah tells Avraham to send her and Yishamel away, it comes from a place of rational thought, the result of her observations of Yishmael’s behavior and not from animosity toward Hagar.

Rosh Hashana is the beginning of the Aseres Ymai Teshuva, the ten days of repentance. Studying Sarah’s behavior in regards to Hagar demonstrates how one can actually be successful in the hardest part of the act Teshuva, not repeating the same mistake. This might sound surprising since it appears that Sarah very much mistreats Hagar a second time, but the two stories only seem similar until one reads them closely. One can assume that Sarah never “warmed” back up to Hagar. One can only imagine a strained relationship. But Sarah does not appear to afflict her maid servant further after she returns and gives birth to Yishmael. She keeps them with the camp even after she has born her own child. As we enter the days of Teshuva we can learn from Sarah the simple message of you can do better.

 

Chana: There is not much to say about Chana and Rosh Hashana that has not already been written somewhere and so I will simply add here the words from the commentary of Rabbi Shimshon Refael Hirsch that I found so powerful:

“Thus the picture of Hannah, enduring, wishing, hoping, self-examining, praying, comes before our mental eye on Rosh Hashana, and wishes to lead us out of the tangled turmoil of our lives thither where peace and tranquility beckons to us too. Accordingly, her words sound warningly (2:3) how God tests our real feelings, and “how each single deed is reckoned up by Him,” hence the importance and responsibility of every single person; and then refers, (verse 6) to the vicissitudes of the external circumstances of life and declares how it is always the same God of Love (Hashem) Who reveals Himself in every phase of fortune…”

In addition to teaching us how to pray and teaching us faith in the continued hopes that our prayers will be answered positively, Chana’s prayer reminds us that everything – EVERYTHING – comes from Hashem.

Last year we stood on the threshold of Rosh Hashana and the universal prayer seemed to be that the next year would be better. Alas, that same sentiment pervades today as in addition to the challenges of the Pandemic (different as they are in each location and every situation), the strife and struggle of the world seems only to be increasing. On a personal level, I look toward Rosh Hashana just a few hours away and I wonder what it is that I should daven for exactly… my own personal struggles – unexpected, unwanted, and, as yet, unappreciated – have left me grappling with a need to understand. But when I look to the women of Rosh Hashana, I see a path to help me forward – appreciate my blessings, let myself cry out my pain to Hashem, work hard to do better in my most challenging situations, and know that everything – the good, the bad, and the ugly – is part of Hashem’s plan.

I wish you all a Shana Tova. I cannot express enough my gratitude to Ruthie and Caryn for continuing this program year after year and my admiration for each woman in participating.

 

I will let you know later where I give tzedakah today.

 

Looking At Leah

This Dvar Torah was written in honor of my daughter Leah Sharona bas Sarah Rochel, whose Bas Mitzvah is today.

Everyone of the avos and emahos can be a source of inspiration, but I thought it would be nice to take a particular look at Leah Emanu and how she can inspire us at this time of year.

When talking about Elul, we often refer to the idea of the name of the month as an acronym of “Ani Ldodi Vdodi Li. I am to my beloved as my beloved is to me.” While this is an ideal of the relationship we should strive to have with Hashem, these are words that could be used to describe the relationship of Yaakov and Rachel. The same probably could not be said about the marriage of Leah and Yaakov. Theirs was not a “beloved” partnership, but, nevertheless, they had a deep and powerful relationship and Leah is the wife eternally by his side. When trying to understand a path for growth and a path for developing a relationship with Hashem, there is perhaps more to learn from Leah than there is from Rachel.

If I had to make an analogy, perhaps I might say that Rachel was like a flame: beautiful, powerful, alluring, and the source of obvious inspiration. She is the women we all notice who are put together, elegant, inspirational and seemingly perfect – not truly perfect, of course (although that is a hyperbolic adjective often assigned to such women) - but rather someone who always seems to be handling a situation with perfect aplomb and unswerving faith.

Leah, on the other hand, is like the coals in a fire pit. Equally intense but drawing far less attention. Coal gives off heat; it can be used to cook food equal if not better than a roaring flame, but it does not draw one’s notice unless one has a need for it. This is the everyday woman – probably the woman most of us see ourselves as (although I see all of you as Rachels 😊). These are the women with struggles and imperfections not wholly tucked away from public notice, and, equally, with accomplishments and successes that are noticed and shared.

Leah’s desire to love and be loved by Yaakov was, according to Midrashic sources, based on her understanding of Yaakov’s righteousness and the future that would be his descendants’ inheritance. Leah saw the bigger picture, the far-off future, and she wanted to be part of it. Aviva Gottlieb Zornberg shared an interesting thought in her book Genesis: The Beginning of Desire: “’When morning came, there [ve-hine – behold] was Leah!’ (29:25). Rashi comments: But at night she was not Leah. The effect of ve-hine (behold) is to convey a real jolt of perception….[in the middle of the night,] Leah had found in herself the potential to be Rachel.”

Leah had an “aha moment.” She had a taste of the sense of true connection, and henceforth she worked hard to get back to that place. This idea - of hitting a particular spiritual note and thus becoming aware that we can reach that place – is something to which many of us can relate. I remember the davening I experienced on Yom Kippur the year I became observant. It was at Hebrew University. I remember where I slept and the squeak of the chairs in the shul. Most significantly, I remember the incredible sense of connection I felt that year. I am not certain I have ever reached that level again, but the memory forever resonates with me and pushes me to try.

Through the naming of her children, Leah charts her own journey. It begins with her recognition that Hashem really knows she exists.

Leah learned about Hashem from Yaakov living among them for seven years, and she wanted to be part of the incredible people that was to come. But not only was she the product of a different culture (Laban’s house), she also had to overcome the negative perception of her actions. Bereishis Rabbah 71:2 notes that “everyone jeering at her and saying she is not inwardly as she appears on the surface. She appears righteous but is not. If she was righteous, she would not have deceived her sister” (Bereishis Rabbah 71:2).

Leah’s quick pregnancy, however, is a sign affirming everything she is working toward, and she names her son Reuven, an acknowledgment that Hashem saw her struggle. Her second son, born shortly thereafter, she names for God having heard her plight. I think that it is important that in this initial stage of her journey to being the right person to be Yaakov’s eternal partner (in machpela) she becomes aware that Hashem is actively in her life – especially as she could easily have viewed all that had occurred as the result of manipulations of her very human father.

The first half of Leah’s journey culminates with the birth of Yehuda, when Leah declares “This time let me gratefully praise Hashem.” This is not a surprising statement. There are an abundance of commentaries around the naming of the tribes and how this was a monumental moment of a person praising Hashem. What is significant to her journey is that once Leah has come to this point - where she can express unfettered gratitude to Hashem - she didn’t grow complacent and rest on her laurels.

There are myriad commentaries on Genesis 30:16, “And Leah went out” (to greet Yaakov and lead him to her tent). But in this context, I think that it is indicative that this is not the Leah of Genesis 29 (Reuven through Yehudah.) This, now, was a woman who was no longer on a purely internal path to connect to Hashem, but rather one who had strength in her conviction that Hashem was ready to bless her and that she was a partner with Hashem in building the Jewish people. This is reflected in the names of Yissachar and Zevulon (God has granted me my reward….God has endowed me with a good endowment).

The Midrash that explains that Leah davened to Hashem that her last pregnancy should be a girl so that her sister could have a share in the shevatim equal, at least, to the handmaids, makes an interesting juxtaposition with the chesed Rachel did for Leah nearly a decade earlier. Their individual acts of chesed for each other are, in some ways, demonstrative of their natures. Rachel represents passion and visible inspiration (even though what she did was in secret, its impact was external), while Leah represents practicality and a mindset for growth (her act had an internal effect). Rachel connects with love and chesed. Leah, on the other hand, connects to the recognition of balance and Divine order – thus Dinah, her daughter, named for din.

The Zohar notes that “Because all of Leah’s deeds were secret, her death is not mentioned in the Torah like Rachel’s death” (1:158a). After the birth of her children, Leah is no longer an active figure in the text of the Torah, but Leah’s path is one to which most of us can relate to and from which we can draw inspiration.

Rachel was beloved, and inherently connected, but Leah had to work. “The King is the field,” as we are so often reminded in Elul, and for some beautiful souls it is easy to seek Him out, to beseech Him and rejoice in His presence. For others, however, it takes work. It takes seeing God in our lives, reminding ourselves that He hears our prayers, feeling that His presence escorts us, and expressing constant gratitude for the gifts He gives. Making the efforts to create that connection (which this group certainly helps me to do) offers us the opportunity to experience the truly beautiful relationship with Hakodesh Baruch Hu that is open to us during the month of Tishrei.

Teshuva and the Process of Humbling Oneself

“If My people, who are called by My name, humble themselves, pray, seek My face and turn from their wicked ways, then I will hear from heaven and will forgive their sin and heal them” (II Divrei Hayamim 7:14).

Most of us don’t get a chance to study Divrei Hayamim, and I only stumbled upon this quote when searching for new material for JewishTreats.org (my day job, so to speak). I never managed to find a way to use it in a Treat, but it stayed in my mind until I was ready to write my Elul group DT.
This quote is from the seventh perek of II Divrei Hayamim, which discusses the completion of the building of Solomon’s Temple. Hashem told Solomon that the people would stray and He would cause famine and pestilence against them. Verse 14 is the path to redemption, meant to take place in the Temple,  laid out by Hashem. Like so many verses in Tanaach, this posuk has meaning and significance beyond the context in which it is written. It offers the steps for the nation to redeem itself, and a beautiful path for individuals as well.

Quite often discussions at this time of year focus on the actions of teshuva: recognizing our transgressions, regretting them, confessing them, apologizing for them and actively seeking not to repeat them. I wonder, however, if this posuk in Divrei Hayamim is revealing that the action of teshuva, which is “turn from their wicked ways,” is actually the last step in a much more complex process.

Perhaps the teshuva process really begins with humbling one’s self. While one could say that is what is accomplished in recognizing one’s transgressions, I think that the process of humbling one’s self is more than just saying “I sinned.” Rather, it is recognizing our humanity, our inability to achieve perfection, and, therefore, our total dependence on Hashem.

The process of human humbling often, but not always, is a reaction to something happening to us: a business deal going awry, an injury, or, perhaps, drastic weather. This is when we turn to prayers from the heart that lead us to contemplate God and the world. Prayer is particularly on our minds during Elul and Tishrei. Even our prayers that we say everyday, without the incitement of being humbled, are transformed during the Aserres Y’mei Teshuva, when we have to slow down and remember the subtle changes in wording.

Prayer is our venue in which we speak to Hashem, but the truth is that many of us pray out of a sense of yira - reverential fear - the reaction to knowing how much greater Hashem is than we are, how much we have for which to be grateful to Him (an understanding that comes through humbling one’s self). In the pasuk from Divrei Hayamim, the final step that comes before the actions of teshuva is “seek my face.” This step is striving to act out of ahava - love - rather than yira.  To seek God’s face it to try to get closer to Him, an act of a loving relationship.

Once these steps have been achieve, only than can true, heartfelt teshuva happen because it is not then an act, it is not a hope, it is not a striving. When we can achieve ahavas Hashem, then our act of teshuva is transformational. And this idea leads me to another quote I found that same day which I tried to use as well (but didn’t):

“Rabbi Meir used to say, ‘Great is repentance for on account of one true penitent, the entire world is pardoned” (Talmud Yoma 86b).

I do try and do proper teshuva during Elul and Tishrei, and I can’t say I do a fabulous job because I honestly can’t remember the majority of transgressions that I am certain I have committed. So when I read this quote, I was trying to imagine the power of such a true penitent and I think that such a penitent would have to be one who had really and truly transformed their emunah and their relationship with Hashem.

For those of us who are still just working on humbling ourselves, on embracing emunah and, perhaps, learning to pray truly...Rabbi Meir’s statement can also be read differently. When an individual works hard at the actions of teshuva, just the final steps of turning from wicked ways, and succeeds, they have, indeed, managed to ensure that an entire world is pardoned: their world. As it says in Sanhedrin 37a: “Whosoever preserves a single soul..., scripture ascribes [merit] to him as though he had preserved a complete world.”

As much as we would love to be superheros (ok, I’d just like to get through a day without screaming at my kids), the fact is that our first and most necessary project is to work on ourselves. We as a nation have to power to change the world, and we, as individuals have the power to be world-changers by effecting, ourselves and the world around us.

The women in this group are definitely world-changers. I’ve been part of the Elul group since its beginning, and I have seen the beautiful growth of the women involved, some friends, some strangers, but all dear to me at this time of year. Without question, Caryn and Ruthie deserve special credit in that world changing department, because they have offered this opportunity and encouraged me even in the years that I thought I could not actually manage it. May we all continue to grow together in emunah, yiras Hashem and ahavas Hashem.

Sarah Rochel Hewitt
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So, one of my earlier drafts began like this, and I just wanted to include it as well as a separate thought:

“Rabbi Meir used to say, ‘Great is repentance for on account of one true penitent, the entire world is pardoned” (Talmud Yoma 86b).

I feel like I should apologize right here and right now. Sorry guys, I don’t think I am gonna make the cut this year. Sheesh, I don’t think I’ve ever come close to making that cut. And for that, I am sorry. Well, perhaps sorry is the wrong term...And for that I have regret and, to be perfectly honest, a good bit of guilt. I am so far from where I need to be that I wonder, sometimes, if there is something wrong with me.

But questioning, seeking, searching, accepting and starting all over again seems to be a critical element in Jewish life. It’s not for no reason that we ask for tshuvot (responses) as we learn how to grow spiritually and work toward true teshuva.

This past summer, my almost Bat Mitzvah daughter gave me a joltingly beautiful understanding of this process of growing through asking questions. On Shavuot, she informed me that she and several of her friends had been talking about “stuff” and, basically, questioning how one could actually know if any of what they were being taught was true. I was alarmed, mildly, yet pleased, mildly, too, because I know this is a critical step in her owning her Judaism for herself. I suggested we start learning something together and we went off looking for the right book to learn. We spent a month looking for something that was neither pre-supposing of emunah (like Living Emunah, which tells you how to live a life of emunah, but not how to gain emunah) or to baal teshuva oriented or too mature for her. Then life got busy and our search was forgotten a bit.

When, later, asked her if she was upset that we hadn’t managed to follow through on this project and find a sefer, she said no because she had come to realize that the answer was too big for someone to answer in a book and that these questions were actually too big for herself to be able to simply judge and understand.

I was blown away by her response. If only my own battle for emunah could be so brilliantly resolved!

Facing Manhood

This Dvar Torah was written as part of a group that says Tehillim/Psalms together during the month of Elul (through Yom Kippur).


5777 - This is the year my son will “become a man,” as popular Bar Mitzvah messages assert. In just over seven months, my bachor will become Bar Mitzvah and for the last several months this fact has become a constant little niggle, that type of thing one says one isn’t going to think about but nevertheless finds oneself constantly discussing. Halls for the kiddush, caterers, how to balance the different things he needs...

As I sat thinking about the Dvar Torah I wanted to write, the Bar Mitzvah once again popped into my head. This time, however, my thoughts were not focused on the “to do” but rather on the personal significance. Every year when I get “the call” (ok, the email, but it’s so much more dramatic sounding the other way) about the Elul group, I become suddenly more aware of the growth I need to do, of the growing I haven’t done... of my status as a baneinu. I’m not bad, but I’m not particularly good, either.

Twenty some odd years ago, I started keeping mitzvot. The first several years were all about acquiring knowledge and adding observance. They were hard because had to bend myself, but they were easy because there was so much new to do...and so much encouragement!

When I got married, I expected many things from myself, but life, work, children, running...running...running (B.H.) kept me very busy. Slowly, learning and growing drifted away. Even davening. Last year, I believe, I wrote about davening and how much I increased my davening as I expected my fifth child. One of the other reasons I made an active effort to increase my davening was that I wanted my children, my girls in particular, to see me daven, to know that it wasn’t just Tatty who did so.

This year, about two months ago, I found a whatsapp group of women in my neighborhood (mostly). The group is about emunah and growth but, to be honest, I really joined it to try and build a stronger social connection within Montreal. I found much more. I am in awe of the spiritual drive of these ladies, just as I am in awe of the dedication of the ladies of this Elul list -particularly, of course, Caryn and Ruthie, who have been doing this longer than a bar mizvah.  Last week this group spoke of the idea that a tzadik cannot stand in the same place as a Baal Teshuva, which led to a discussion of how doing teshuva provides each person witha chance to not only start anew, but to really start to be new. As the conversation got deeper, I was struck by the thought that I didn’t really deserve the title of Baal Teshuva anymore. Sure, became observant on my own, but last year I actually passed the mark of being shomer Shabbat longer than not being shomer Shabbat...and what growth had I been doing?

Today (ok, tomorrow) is first day of Elul. The King is in the Field! Now is the time, the best time, for me to seize the day and start myself anew. This Elul, I want to use the energy of the month to call out from my heart: “Hashem, help me grow! Hashem, open my soul! Hashem, help me feel that passion I felt when I first started this journey. And Hashem, help me show that love and passion for Torah to my children!”

The ladies with whom I have been learning are incredible, spiritual and connected on an emotional level. If you know me, you know that is not so much how I am wired. But I learn from them, as I learn from each woman on the Elul list each year, how to be a little more. And from each of these things I am inspired by the necessity to open up, to call out and communicate to Hashem in the same way I have a “heart to heart” with a good friend, and then more so.

Once upon a time, I used to seek out deep texts and challenge myself to create innovative and admirable divrei Torah. I wanted to do that again...So here is a very brief thought, and not that wow. I have been looking into Mishlei a bit, an excellent source of quotes on which to build Jewish Treats, and I was struck by several verses in Chapter 16:

16:3 Commit your works to the Lord, and your thoughts shall be established.
16:7 When a man's ways please the LORD, he makes even his enemies to be at peace with him.
16:9 A man's heart devises his way: but the Lord directs his steps.

If I have the right intention in any of my endeavors – I try to exercise knowing that I am acting on a mitzvah of taking care of my body, if I focus on cooking Shabbas not as a chore (yes, sorry, week after week) but for the mitzvah - then God will help me in those actions. And I believe this means, for me at least, that I will gain a level of serenity from doing them. This connects to the next verse quoted, but my biggest enemies are in my head. From the yetzer harah to low self esteem, I am easily brought into a negative headspace. When I have given my thoughts and actions a God-focused perspective, however, I find more peace. Last, but not least, of course is a verse that makes me think of “man plans, God laughs,” but it is not nearly so flippant. This is the essence of free will. I get to make decisions, but God is still maneuvering all the pieces on the board to either help or hinder my wishes from coming true.

I don’t know if that made sense to anyone, and in truth I am adding that paragraph just before sending it (when I should be cooking). Mostly now, I write to inspire only myself, and, if by chance you can relate to what I have set down, I hope I give you chizuk as well. I often find that reading of other people with similar thoughts, feelings, experiences can give me strength to grow and move forward.
In seven plus months, my son will have to take responsibility for his own mitzvot. During the hectic months to come, I hope to work on myself as well, so that when he becomes something more, I too can be something more and reclaim the legitimacy of the label B.T.

Thank you all for the inspiration.

Elul Group - Davening Thoughts

This Dvar Torah was written as part of a group that says Tehillim/Psalms together during the month of Elul (through Yom Kippur).

First and foremost, a hearty yasher koach to Caryn and Ruthie for once again arranging this group.

While I must admit that I have not been able to read all of the divrei Torahs, the ones that I have read have been inspiring, moving and strengthening in that it helps to “hear” people touch upon so many concepts that I see in my own life. I would like to also apologize to the group for the days I missed saying tehillim. Hodu L’Hashem, we were blessed with a little boy on 21 Av (which was 6 August) so the first few weeks of Elul were kind of a blur.       

Our Rabbis have taught: On entering the barn to measure the newly harvested grain one shall recite the benediction, ‘May it be Your will O Lord, our God, that You may send blessing upon the work of our hands.’ Once he has begun to measure, he says, ‘Blessed be He who sends blessing into this heap.’ If, however, he first measured the grain and then recited the benediction, then his prayer is in vain, because blessing is not to be found in anything that has been already weighed or measured or numbered, but only in a thing hidden from sight” (Talmud Taanit 8b).

More succinctly put, as noted on the same Talmudic page, “In the school of Rabbi Ishmael it was taught: Blessing is only possible in things not under the direct control of the eye, as it is said, ‘The
Lord will command the blessing with you in your barns’” (Deuteronomy 28:8).

We are in the midst of the time of year when this message is particularly appropriate because we are all focussed on analyzing the year that has passed and contemplating what we want for the future. Living in a world where there is so much immediate gratification and so much technology that allows us to discover the unknowable,  we often approach situations with a desire, almost a need, to know the answers to all of our questions and all of the undetermined aspects of our life.

During the course of my pregnancy, I was in a position where my doctor was placing a lot of pressure on me to go for extra testing to make sure everything was as desired (given my age).

A natural worrier, this pressure caused a great deal of anxiety for me until I thought about this concept. Now was the time to step away from my need for control and to remember that HaShem runs the world. I told the doctor that I was going to go with the faith in God plan. Having refocused my brain on emunah (rather than worrying), it was time to transform that into action.
Davening, however, has never been easy for me. I have a hard time concentrating, prioritizing my time and most importantly, as anyone who knows me will agree, asking for something.

Once upon a time, I davened Shacharit and Mincha every day. The year I was in aveilus for my father, I even went to a mincha minyan most days. Baruch Hashem, life got busy, and I found myself missing mincha more often than not. Then life got busier still and my davening time was reduced to birchat hashacher...often mumbled while serving breakfast. Like many people, my davening increased in times of difficulty, but that often faded.

My davening actually began to increase a little over a year ago, not because I felt that I was connecting to Hashem, but because I thought it was important to set an example for my children. Now, however, I was davening for me.

I would love to say that my davening was transformative...the challenges I faced before are still there. When I go to daven, however, I try to remember that HaShem wants our requests and that He gives us a multitude of opportunities to turn to Him.

During the Aseres Ymai Teshuva, we change our davening - which is an excellent opportunity to work on concentration! - and I think that the alteration from haKel Hakadosh to HaMelech HaKadosh is a powerful reminder of our opportunity to make requests. HaKel is the idea of a deity, which is far less approachable than HaMelech, the King.

I am going to close now with a bracha that we should all only have simple things to daven for and that each of you should be blessed with bracha, parnassa, simcha and shalom.

(I apologize, I usually write more cohesively, but Asher seems to know every time I sit down to concentrate.) I will be giving tzedakah to Midreshet Rachel V'Chaya.

Nailbiting and Song - A Strange Combination

This Dvar Torah was written as part of a group that says Tehillim/Psalms together during the month of Elul (through Yom Kippur).

I too would like to thank Caryn and Ruthie for starting this inspiring group. I printed a great number of the divrei Torah on erev Rosh Hashana, and they were incredibly inspiring.

Each year, when I receive the initial email from Caryn and Ruthie, I hem and I haw. I have never been good at daily activities (even now, with 3 kids on anti-biotics for strep, I missed a dose!) This year, Ruthie did not let me hesitate. I had called her for an update on Elisheva Bracha Chaya and she left me no choice by immediately telling me she was signing me up and would give me “easy tehillim.” For this I thank her because it truly did make it easier for me.

As many of you know, I spend my days writing about a wide variety of Jewish topics, which actually sometimes makes it more challenging to feel as if I am writing something new and inspiring. In the past years I have often found myself using this dvar Torah as a cathartic opportunity to both write on a personal level and to open my heart and admit my great challenges.  This year has not been without its challenges, and sadly many of them are the exact same challenges I have faced in the years past - too much anger, not enough patience, too much working, too much judging others.

This Shabbas was Shabbas Shuva (yes, I am writing this motzei Shabbas...don’t ask!). This year, instead of trying to “connect” to the “feelings” I think that I am supposed to be feeling, I have found myself approaching the aseret y’mei teshuva in a more practical manner. For Shabbas Shuva it was actually a very, very practical manner. I bought “bitter nail” and put it on my nails and that of my two oldest children who are nail biters. I did NOT bite my nails all Shabbas. (For those of you who don’t know people with this bad habit, let me tell you that it is incredibly difficult to break.) Conscious of the nail biting because of the “bitter nail,” I found myself more conscious of Shabbas in general.

Perhaps this can be a beautiful analogy to all averos. My son told me he doesn’t bite any more. I held out his hand to show him the nails and said...”Yes, you do, you just don’t even realize when you are putting your fingers to your mouth. You do it without noticing.”

How often do we speak loshon harah without realizing it? Ok, butloshen harah is the easy analogy. Let’s be honest, it’s the most frequent trangression people make and, perhaps, the most discussed (except maybe tznius). But look further. How often do we take a bite of something and forget to make a bracha, eat something and never get around to saying the after-bracha, or steal someone else’s time (or even ideas) without considering our actions?

Alas, God has not provided a “bitter nail” for our daily lives because then we would not have free will. (But it would be so much easier!)

When I sat down to write, however, this is not where I expected to go. (Nor can I neatly tie these two sections together...sorry.)

As Shabbas went out, I glanced back at the parasha and had an all together different line of thought. What jumped out at me from this weeks parasha, and connected to next weeks parasha (which is appropriate on Motze Shabbat) was the concept of song.

As I alluded to above, and as those of you who know me will recognize, “spiritual” is not a description I use of myself. I don’t easily connect to the emotional side of Judaism. I don’t get goosebumps at the kosel or lose myself in prayer. (I truly wish that I did.)

When I do wish to daven for something particular, I always feel self-conscious and at a strange loss for word. (Odd for a writer, don’t you think.) A few months ago, feeling challenged by this fact, I decided that when I did wish to turn to personal tefilla, the best means for me to do so would be through song. One of the most moving prayers I ever felt myself pray was when I was in Israel in 1994 and the soldier Nachson Wachsman had been kidnapped by Arabs. That Shabbas, walking to shul at Hebrew U., I sang out to Hashem the refrain from “Bring Him Home” (Les Miserables).

Since making the decision to sing my prayers, I have actually done so on a number of occasions. (I would add here that, perhaps for the first time, I have felt truly moved by reciting Tehillim over the last few weeks when saying them for Elisheva Bracha Chaya...which has also helped me connect to reciting the Tehillim for this group.)

In Parasha Vayelch, it is written “And Moshe wrote this song on that day.” The song, written out in next week’s parash Haazinu, opens with praise of Hashem and a reminder that Hashem is our Creator and the rock of our lives. Moshe sang of all the kindness that Hashem did for our people. But then his song describes the transgressions that overcome our people and God’s wrathful response. From wrath, however, Moshe sang of hope and love and our ultimate redemption.”

Moshe song was both a lesson for the Jewish people, one that is relevant to every generation, and a prayer stated in narrative. Our job is to listen to this prayer and respond by recognizing Hashem’s greatness and following in his ways.

In just a few days it will be Yom Kippur. As we head into this holiest of days, I wonder how I will achieve what I wish to achieve. My greatest height of “spiritual connection” on Yom Kippur was attained through the rigor of standing in shul an entire day. It has been 8 years since I have been able to go to shul on Yom Kippur (Barch Hashem) and, in truth, I no longer even feel that I could concentrate if someone volunteered to take my children all day.

Perhaps, however, I will remember this d’var Torah, my promise to sing and God will accept my heartfelt desire to truly grow in the year to come.

In addition to Caryn, Ruthie and the entire Elul women’s group, I would like to thank my husband for putting the kids to bed and cleaning up while I composed this dvar Torah.

In the merit of the women of this Elul group, I will be giving Tzedakah to Midreshet Rachel v’Chaya.

I wish you all a successful Yom Kippur.

(Oh and don’t’ forget that Montreal is a great place to visit!!!!!)

The Fifth Day of The Ten Days of Teshuva

This Dvar Torah was written as part of a group that says Tehillim/Psalms together during the month of Elul (through Yom Kippur).

I am writing this Dvar Torah for Monday. The normal crazy, hectic, back-on-schedule, what-was-I-working-on Monday, that will be made crazier by the long holiday. But this Monday is also the fifth day of the aseret ymai teshuva. One might say it is the midpoint of these day on which we are meant to be more alert to our spiritiual needs.

In my hectic, get-the-kids-up, carpool, work, medical appointments, carpool entertain-feed-put-them-to-bed weekdays, connecting to the aserest ymai teshuva is incredibly difficult. The question, of course, is what to do with it.

This year’s Tzum Gedaliah fast was a strange one for me. Perhaps because it was really the fourth of Tishrei instead of the third, or perhaps because it was a rainy, gray Sunday (never the best days in our house). I think, however, it had a lot to do with a conversation I had with someone about the very ambiguity of the day. Oddly enough, this person expressed a thought that I too had had about this fast, only said more clearly: "What were the sages thinking? Don’t we have enough fast days that they added this one?" The point was not the fasting, but the lack of any connection as to why we were fasting. Taanis Esther we all understand, it is so obvious from the text itself. Tisha B’Av, Asarah b’ Tevet, Shiva Asar b’Tamuz...these also give us something to connect with...ok, I can reflect on the loss of the Beis Hamikdash. But Tzum Gedaliah doesn’t feel like it has the same weight. Nebach, one Jew murdered another. But its happened at other points in history. We today are highly desensitized to these sort of things. The stroy of Gedaliah has intrigue, political motivations, dire consequences...it sounds like a pulp fiction paperback.

I’m jumping a bit here, but please be patient...

In doing research for writing Jewish Treats (I write the blog Jewishtreats.org), I was intrigued by the story in Talmud Rosh Hashana 25a, in which Rabban Gamaliel orders Rabbi Joshua to appear before him with his staff and his wallet on the day Rabbi Joshua believed was Yom Kippur. Rabban Gamaliel had declared the new month based on two witnesses who may have been wrong, since no moon actually appeared that night. Rabbi Joshua, following Rabbi Dosa ben Harkinas, declared the two witnesses false...accept that their testimonies had already been accepted by Rabban Gamaliel. Rabbi Joshua arrived at the Sanhedrin as ordered because

Rabbi Akiva...said to him: I can bring proof [from the scripture] that whatever Rabban Gamaliel has done is valid, because it says, "These are the appointed seasons of the Lord, holy convocations, which you shall proclaim in their appointed seasons," [which means to say that] whether they are proclaimed at their proper time or not at their proper time, I have no appointed seasons save these. He [Rabbi Joshua] then went to Rabbi Dosa ben Harkinas, who said to him: If we call in question [the fecisions of] the beth din of Rabban Gamaliel, we must call in question the decisions of every beth din which has existed since the days of Moses up to the present time.

It all goes back to Devarim 17:11, "According to the law which they shall teach you, and according to the judgment which they shall tell you, you shall do; you shalt not turn aside from the sentence which they shall declare to you, to the right hand, nor to the left."

We fast on Tzum Gedaliah because God instructed us to follow the sages, even if we aren’t quite certain of their logic. God trusted them to make the right decisions for us.

Two Shabbasim ago we read Parashat Nitzavim, in which there is a verse that I found particularly profound. "The secret things belong to the Lord our God; but the things that are revealed belong to us and to our children for ever, that we may do all the words of this law" (Deuteronomy 29:28).We can’t always get an answer to why things we must follow certain laws (chukim) - well any laws really - and we can’t understand why things happen in the world.

And in the end, every question about how to connect to the asert ymai teshuvacomes back to God and trust, to remembering that which we will say on Yom Kippur in Kee Anu Amecha: We are Your handiwork, and You are our Shaper.

Over Rosh Hashana I was lucky enough to be able to daven all of Pekudei D’zimrot, Shacharit and Mussaf (for those who don’t know me, I have four kids 7 and under, none of whom were at shul). As I ended P.D. on the second morning, I "pretended" to be in shul and shouted out HaMelech. Avi, my oldest, thought this was quite strange and asked my husband (who had not yet gone to shul) why I did it. David explained that this was one of the themes of Rosh Hashana.

Thinking back on this incident, however, I realize that this is my key. I’m not a good "davener," I don’t connect when I recite Shemona Esrei. I have yet to feel a link to the Divine when reciting Tehillim. But I can shout out Hamelech with gusto and emotion. That one word says so much. God is the King, and we have to love and fear and be grateful to him at all moments.

So for the remainder of the asert ymai teshuva, I am going to try and call out to the king, even if it is just a short momentary call of Hamelech when I wish to say thank You, or help me, or simply to remind myself, that everything in life, whether it makes sense or not, is sent to me from the King.