EKEV 5770
I found something shocking in Today’s Torah portion. Do you realize that the Torah permits—no not only permits but commands us—to worship other gods and to bow down to them? And it does this, not in some obscure passage in the Torah, but right in the middle of the Shema?
Don’t believe me? Let me show it to you. Let’s turn to page 416 in our ArtScroll prayer books read from the 3rd line: V’sartem, v’avadtem elohim acheyrim,v’hishtachavitem lahem, “You shall turn and worship other gods and bow down to them.” Doesn’t it clearly read that it is a mitzvah to bow down to other gods and to worship them? Right?
Wrong! What is wrong with the verse, as I read it? You can see what I did—I read it out of context. I left out the 1st half of the verse which says: Beware lest your heart be seduced and you are tempted.” It makes all the difference in the world whether you include those words or not. Without them it is a command, “you are supposed to,” with them, it is a warning, “don’t.”
Rabbi Jack Reimer—who really showed me this nuance—points out that Maimonides then says: “From this we learn how important it is to be careful and never to judge any text or any person out of context.”
I share this with you because of a similar thing that’s happened in the news recently and because there is only a little more than 5 weeks till Rosh Hashanah and we need to begin to get ready.
A couple of weeks ago, Andrew Breitbart’s Big Government website released a heavily edited video of USDA Georgia State Director of Rural Development Shirley Sherrod speaking to the NAACP. That video appeared to show Sherrod talking about how she had, in the past, discriminated against a white farmer seeking help to save his land.
In a matter of hours Sherrod was attacked by politicians, denounced by pundits, criticized by that same NAACP, and told to resign her post immediately by the Obama administration.
But the clip was clearly taken out of context. It was part of a story in which she said that at 1st the farmer was rude and she didn’t want to help him. But then she did anyway and helped him save his land. She later said that working with the white farmer, “made me see that it’s really about those who have versus those who don’t, you know. And they could be black, and they could be white; they could be Hispanic.”
Now Shirley Sherrod is no saint, but she certainly didn’t deserve the treatment she got from the media and from the administration. Sherrod has now been offered a new position by the Obama administration and, hopefully, we all have learned a valuable lesson—not to judge so fast and not to take things out of context.
Yes, it’s only a little more than 5 weeks till Rosh Hashanah. The easy part of getting ready is to take care of the external arrangements, to pay up our financial obligations to the shule from the past year, choose an outfit, draw up a list who to invite for meals and make a menu. The hard part of getting ready is to look inside and see where we now stand spiritually, what have we done with our days since last Rosh Hashanah and what needs correcting before this one comes.
One of the sins in the Yom Kippur confessional is: Al Cheyt shechatanu l’fanecha biflilut, “for the sin that we have committed against You by false judgments.” It’s a sin that all of us are guilty of. We judge each other and we often do it—as in the Shirley Sherrod case—carelessly, casually and callously. Our tradition understands this, and so, at least once a year it makes us face up to it and atone.
Let me share with you a poem from the book, Prayers for Pagans, by Roger Bush, a minister from Australia. It’s a great commentary on this sin:
In The Street
She was pretty and she smiled at the men approaching. I could see her in profile. A sweet thing and cheeky, too. Embarrassed males turned away. Quickened their pace; Looked guilty, some blushed. But undaunted, she met with an expectant smile the next, Only again to be refused.
Soliciting, I thought; a prostitute; in broad daylight; until she turned. And I saw she was selling buttons for a charity.
******
He staggered down the steps and fell, Lrd, A crumpled mass on the footpath. His bottle broke and liquid spilled across the walk.
He’s drunk, I thought. Disgust. Disdain. Until¼2 girls rushed from a nearby car and cried; “It’s Daddy. Please help. He’s ill.”
******
He caught my gaze. This greedy-eyed young man. He too had seen the open handbag on the aged arm. With a few dollars exposed to view.
He stalked his prey, and the old woman just window-shopped. He’ll grab and run, I thought.
But no. Quietly he tapped her shoulder, pointed to the bag, exchanged smiles. They went their way.
O Lrd, Forgive me, Forgive me. Why do I always think the worst of Your children?
Does that poem speak to you as directly as it does to me? We Jews should be so sensitive to judging others because we are so often judged out of context. When Israel boarded the Mavi Marmara as it tried to break the Gaza blockade a couple of months ago, the whole world was quick to condemn her—even before the facts of what happened were known. And, as the videos later clearly showed, Israeli soldiers were mercilessly attacked by armed thugs—not peaceful protesters as the media called them. During the war in Gaza last year, the media focused on close-ups of babies without limbs, civilian homes destroyed. We wince every time we see these pictures because it hurts us to see any carnage, any rubble, any human pain. And we wince because we know the pictures aren’t fair—that they only tell part of the story, and not the whole story. They show a truth out of context.
There’s an old saying that the devil can quote scripture. It’s true; all he needs to do is what I did today and quote ½ a verse and leave out the context. I know how risky it is to speak, how open to quick judgment one can be. Rabbi Reimer said: “For every sermon I give there are 4 versions: what I say, what I should have said, what they say I said, and what I meant to say.” I hope no one goes home today and says that I said that the Torah commands that we worship other gods. Instead, let us all learn from this verse that I misquoted to judge each other carefully. Or better yet, not to judge at all—for who knows the whole context of anything anyone does? And to this will you all please say with me: Amen!
Rabbi Mark Hillel Kunis
7/31/10
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DEVARIM 5770
This is Shabbat Chazon, the Shabbos before the great fast of Tisha B’Av—the 9th day of the Jewish month of Av. As I have often said, this is such a sad day for the Jewish people because every major tragedy that ever happened to us either occurred on this day or had its roots in something that occurred on this day. You’ve all seen the partial list that I have distributed of these tragedies—it’s staggering! And so, Monday night we will begin to fast and recite the Book of Eycha, Lamentations, and Kinot memorial prayers to remember and to mourn. This kind of national mourning is essential for the Jewish soul for we can’t really understand who we are unless we remember and acknowledge the pain and scars that helped shape us.
A colleague from NY tells the story about a man whose wife was working in the World Trade Center on September 11th, 2001. Fortunately she was on the 1st floor when the planes stuck and she was able to escape. Her husband said, “You know, I don’t think my wife ever got over that day. But I don’t think she wants to get over it, either. There’s something important about remembering, and about living with those difficult memories.”
That is what Tisha B’Av is all about: “There’s something important about remembering, and about living with difficult memories.” Have you heard people say sometimes when the Holocaust makes the news, “Get over it already; it was more than 65 years ago!?” Like the husband said, we “don’t want to get over it.” As discomforting as it may be to remember, there is something powerful about holding on to the terror and sorrow of moments like the Holocaust long after it has taken place. Such events shape who we are.
The 1st and 2nd major catastrophes we commemorate on Tisha B’Av are the destruction of both the 1st and 2nd Temples. Most of the liturgy for Tisha B’Av refers to them. What does it mean to remember the destruction of the Temples? Why bother today observing days that emphasize our powerlessness when we finally have a land of our own, and after 2,000 years have the ability to defend ourselves? Each year I find myself asking the same question: why do we need Tisha B’Av?
Even more difficult are the theological implications of Tisha B’Av. Even if the Jewish people were not saints, did they deserve to have their Temples destroyed and to suffer such horrific trials throughout history? The 1st Temple, the sages of the Talmud taught, was destroyed because the Jewish people were guilty of murder, idolatry and sexual immorality—the 3 cardinal sins. But the people of the 2nd Temple were deeply committed to Gd and the observance of Torah. Why was their Temple destroyed? In the end the sages explained the destruction of the 2nd Temple as a result of Sinat Chinam, “causeless hatred.” But even then they seemed to sense that somehow the punishment outweighed the infraction.
In the aftermath of the Holocaust, what does Tisha B’Av mean? No one in their right mind is willing to explain or rationalize why the Holocaust took place, or why Gd seemed to turn His face away from His people. It would seem that either Gd is cruel and uncaring, or cruelty happens and Gd is powerless to stop it. Both explanations are unacceptable.
Let me suggest that the purpose of Tisha B’Av is not to explain our suffering but to allow us to relive it, to re-experience it and to take it in each year so that the pain remains an immediate and powerful force in our lives. Like the woman from 9/11, we sense that we must not let go of the events we commemorate on Tisha B’Av—as painful as they are.
The key word of Tisha B’Av is not “why,” but “how.” It’s no accident that this is the opening word of the Book of Lamentations we read on Tisha B’Av. The Book begins: Eycha yashva vadad, usually translated, “Alas, lonely sits the city once great with people—she has become like a widow.” But the word eycha can also be translated as “how.” It’s both an exclamation and a question.
Faced with incompressible tragedy and sorrow our ancestors’ 1st reaction was to cry out: Eycha, “Alas!” “How can this be?” “What I have I done to deserve such suffering?” “Why?” But there are no easy answers to these questions, and I’m not certain that they were even asked as true questions. In the face of human suffering our questions are often a cry for help. When we ask “Why me?” we are not necessarily looking for an answer, but for a shoulder to lean on and a caring heart to turn to.
This 1st word teaches us that the question we must ask is not Lamah, “why,” but Eycha, “how?” There are no easy answers to the “why” questions in the face of tragedy. We can only ask Eycha: “How? How should I respond? How do I go on living in the face of such pain and suffering?”
In today’s Torah portion Moses asks: Eycha, “How can I alone bear the trouble of the burdens and the bickering?” Here Moses gives expression to his frustration of dealing with a willful and stiff-necked people. We chanted this verse in the melody of Lamentations as a reminder of our sorrow.
And in the Haftorah which is also chanted in the mournful melody of Lamentations, the prophet Isaiah says: Eycha, “Alas—how has the faithful city become a harlot—a city that was filled with justice, but is now filled with murders?” Isaiah wonders how it is possible that a city for which there was such a vision of hope and goodness could become so corrupt and degraded.
As Jews, we do not ask lama, “why, but eycha, “how.” There are no explanations that will assuage our sorrow but there are paths that can lead us to light and wholeness. The response to sorrow and the response to tragedy is activism. We must search for new paths and new ways to deal with our pain and to heal the world of its sorrow.
For me this is what Tisha B’Av is all about. 1st it’s to remember and cry out Eycha! ALAS! And 2nd, it is to ask ourselves Eycha? “How?” How do we go on living in the face of such sorrow? What must I do in the face of tragedy?
And so, in the face of the destruction of the 2nd Temple, the rabbis became the architects of a whole new way of living Jewishly that focused on the home and the synagogue and house of study rather than the Temple in Jerusalem. In response to the Spanish Inquisition and exile, the Kabbalists developed a new concept of mysticism which challenged the Jewish people to see themselves as active participants in bringing redemption to the world. To each national tragedy the Jewish people have asked the question, “How now?”
Tisha B’Av, then, is a crucial day in the Jewish calendar. You don’t have to be religious to observe it. You just have to care about Am Yisrael, the people of Israel. Rabbi Harold Kushner tells the story of a family he knew growing up in Brooklyn that was ardently secular and anti-religious. This was the kind of family that went out of its way to eat on Yom Kippur. They made a point, however, of fasting on Tisha B’Av. When Kushner asked why, they explained that they while they thought that ideas like sin and repentance were mumbo jumbo, they fully understood how important it is to remember the suffering and to grieve for the losses the Jewish people experienced.
There is a Chasidic saying that makes a similar point: “On Yom Kippur who wants to eat, and on Tisha B’Av who can eat?” When we think about the suffering of our people throughout history, beginning with the destruction of both Temples and continuing into our own times, how can one sit down and eat a meal on the anniversary of our catastrophes? You don’t have to be a believer to observe Tisha B’Av. Tisha B’Av is not a matter of faith or belief, but of taking in the hard and cold facts of history.
Today we need Tisha B’Av more than ever. We need to remember our past but also to develop a sense of hope that we are not merely victims. We can and do make choices. Tradition teaches that Mashiach, the Messiah, will be born on Tisha B’Av. It’s a day that begins with grief. It then leads to reflection and remorse. But it ends with resolve and hope. May our fast this Monday night and Tuesday lift us from the depths of our frustrations with the course of our lives and help us to be inspired by those who came before us, who—in the face of tragedy—asked Eycha, “How?” and found the strength to live and to love and to create. Amen!
Rabbi Mark Hillel Kunis
7/17/10 Last Updated (Monday, 19 July 2010 16:31)
MATOT MASEY 5770
It’s good to be back home with you this Shabbos, although the last 3 Shabbosim for me and Cheryl were truly unique and amazing. 3 weeks ago, on Friday night, we went to the Shira Chaddasha synagogue in the German Colony in Jerusalem. What is unique for me about this shule—besides being an orthodox mechitza minyan that encourages women’s participation in a way similar to our shule—is that everyone who comes sings loud and clear with great spirit. 200 voices in harmony—it’s inspiring! On Shabbos morning we went to the Great Synagogue to hear the great new 25-year-old chazzan phenomenon, Chaim Dovid Berson. Amazing!
The following Shabbos we were at the Western Wall on Friday night, and despite a heat wave the day before, it was very cold—but the spirit of the thousands there davening in hundred different minyanim was certainly warming. On Shabbos morning we went to Yakar, a very unique shule in the Old Katamon section of Jerusalem. They have a spirited davening and brake for kiddush before Torah reading, followed by a choice of classes on the parsha. It certainly helped prepare me for the Torah reading. It’s a great concept, but I’m afraid if we tried to have our kiddush before the Torah reading, we might have too much food left over. By the way, Israeli shules begin Shabbos morning at 8:00am and conclude by 10:30am. I wonder what would happen if we tried that?
Our last Shabbos we spent visiting a yishuv (settlement) called, Mitzpe Netofa in the Galilee. The 200 or so modern orthodox families there live a Zionistic religious life with a great sense of community. There is only one shule and everyone comes both Friday night and Shabbos morning. And the views from almost everywhere of the Galilean hilltops with its lush vegetation are spectacular. Eating and singing at shalashudos on the patio of a friend with her large family as the sun was setting over the mountains was something I’ll never forget.
So yes, it’s good to be back, but I miss Shabbos in Israel as well. What else did we see in Israel? I can’t take the time to review everywhere we went. We went as far south as the Dead Sea—where we swam—and as far north as the border of Lebanon on the coast at Rosh Hanikra, with we explored it’s grotto caves; to the east at Kiryat Shemona, where the Arabs used to hurl rockets so often a whole generation of children have grown up sleeping in bomb shelters; and then further east on the Golan Heights—all the way up to the Syrian city of Kunetra. But what struck me this time—and it was so striking because of the contrast with America—is that Israel is really prosperous!
I’ve been to Israel probably at least 12 times. Every other time I felt almost a depression from the people over how hard it was just to get by financially. Not this time! While I’m sure many are struggling, so many are not. The amount of building everywhere is staggering. In the Galilee, which was mostly populated by Arabs, there is a phenomenal buildup of infrastructure, with several new highways crisscrossing Israel and new housing everywhere, encouraging thousands of Israeli families to move to the Galilee.
The expensive restaurants and resorts are not only visited by tourists today, they’re filled with Israelis! The combination of the high-tech boom and sound fiscal policy has spared Israel from the awful economy the rest of the world is currently suffering from.
What’s the political mood of the country? While Jews love to debate politics, I didn’t hear much criticism of its current government. The last week I was there, Prime Minister Bibi Netanyahu went to Washington and this time, Obama made nice to him. They had an “excellent” discussion, Netanyahu’s statement was, “wonderful,” and the U.S.-Israel relationship continues to be, “extraordinary.” Whether or not this is just posturing for the upcoming November elections or not, it’s encouraging.
More encouraging news that was missed by the media because it was reported during the Flotilla incident last month that hogged the spotlight was the discovery of a gigantic deposit of natural gas called the “Leviathan,” in Israel’s territorial waters. This discovery may provide Israel with the security of its own energy supply and even turn it into an important natural gas exporter with a supply of gas equal to 1/5 of the US natural gas reserves.
More encouraging news that was missed by the media because it was reported during the Flotilla incident last month that hogged the spotlight was the discovery of a gigantic deposit of natural gas called the “Leviathan,” in Israel’s territorial waters. This discovery may provide Israel with the security of its own energy supply and even turn it into an important natural gas exporter with a supply of gas equal to 1/5 of the US natural gas reserves.
But most encouraging for me about Israel was an article I read the day after I returned—on Thursday—in the Opinion page of the Wall Street Journal by 10 internationally powerful figures who have created what they call, “The Friends of Israel Initiative.” And they are: Jose Maria Aznar, former prime minister of Spain; David Trimble, former 1st minister of Northern Ireland; John Bolton, former U.S. ambassador to the U.N.; Alejandro Toledo, former president of Peru; Marcello Pera, former president of the Italian Senate; Andrew Roberts, British historian; Fiamma Nirenstein, vice-president of the Committee on Foreign Affairs in the Italian Chamber of Deputies; George Weigel, a senior fellow at the Ethics and Public Policy Center; Robert Agostinelli, managing director of the Rhône Group; Carlos Bustelo, former minister of industry in Spain.
The article is called, “Israel: A Normal Country.” Let me conclude by reading it to you:
Israel is a Western democracy and a normal country. Nonetheless, Israel has faced abnormal circumstances since its inception. In fact, Israel is the only Western democracy whose existence has been questioned by force, and whose legitimacy is still being questioned independently of its actions.
The recent flotilla crisis in the Mediterranean provided yet another occasion for Israel's detractors to renew their frenzied campaign. It was so even before the facts of that tragic incident had come to light. Eyes were blind to the reasons why Israel had to respond to the Gaza flotilla's clear provocation.
Because we believe Israel is subjected to unfair treatment, and are convinced that defending Israel means defending the values that made and sustain our Western civilization, we have decided to launch the Friends of Israel Initiative. Our goal is to bring reason and decency back to the discussion about Israel. We are an eclectic group, coming from different countries and holding different opinions on a range of issues. It goes without saying that we do not speak for the State of Israel and we do not defend every course of action that it decides upon. We are united, however, by the following beliefs, principles and aims:
First, Israel is a normal, Western democracy and should be treated as such. Its parliamentary system, legal traditions, education and scientific research facilities, and cultural achievements are as fundamental to it as to any other Western society. Indeed, in some of these areas, Israel is a world leader.
Second, attempts to question Israel's basic legitimacy as a Jewish state in the Middle East are unacceptable to people who support liberal democratic values. The State of Israel was founded in the wake of United Nations Resolution 181, passed in 1947. It also arose out of an unbroken Jewish connection to the land that stretches back thousands of years. Israel does not derive its legitimacy, as some claim, from sympathy over the Holocaust. Instead, it derives legitimacy from international law and from the same right to self-determination claimed by all nations.
Third, as a fully legitimate member of the international community, Israel's basic right to self-defense should not be questioned. Nor should it be forgotten that Israel faces unique security threats—from terror groups such as Hezbollah and Hamas, and from an Iran seeking nuclear weapons.
United Nations condemnations of Israel arising from last year's Goldstone Report on the recent war in Gaza, for example, ignore the security challenges that Israel faces. All democracies should oppose such campaigns, which ultimately undermine the legitimacy not merely of Israel but of the U.N. itself.
Fourth, we must never forget that Israel is on our side in the battle against Islamism and terror. Israel stands on the front line of that fight as a bulwark of Judeo-Christian values. The belief that the democratic world can sacrifice Israel in order to placate Islamism is profoundly wrong and dangerous. Appeasement failed in the 1930s and it will fail today.
Fifth, attempts by people of good faith to facilitate peace between Israel and the Palestinians are always to be supported. But outsiders should beware of attempting to impose their own solutions. Israelis and Palestinians should know how to build a viable peace on their own. We can help them, but we cannot force them.
Sixth, we must be alive to the dangers that the campaign against Israel poses in reawakening anti-Semitism. Hostility to the Jews has been a stain on the Western world's honor for centuries. It is a matter of basic self-respect that we actively confront and oppose new manifestations of an old and ugly problem.
The Friends of Israel Initiative has come together to encourage men and women of goodwill to reconsider their attitudes toward the Jewish state, and to relocate those attitudes inside the best of Western traditions rather than the worst. We urge them to recognize that it is in our own best interests that an increasingly jaded relationship between Israel and many of the world's other liberal democracies is rescued and reinvigorated before it is too late for us all.
At the end of this week’s Torah reading Gd tells us what the borders of Israel are. The borders are recorded in the Bible, held sacred by most of the world. The land was given to us by Gd thousands of years ago. It’s our land, and no one has a right to call into question its legitimacy. It’s about time the rest of the world recognizes that, and the Friends of Israel Initiative is an inspiring start. Amen!
Rabbi Mark Hillel Kunis
7/10/10
KORACH 5770
Why do things so often turn out differently than we expect? Why do so many of the hoped-for, happy endings end up the opposite of what we wanted?
We’re all watching with great concern the disastrous oil spill in the Gulf of Mexico, particularly because we remember the disastrous Exxon Valdez oil spill in Alaska. The average cost of rehabilitating a seal after that spill was $80,000. At a special ceremony, 2 of the most expensively saved animals were released back into the wild amid cheers and applause from onlookers. A minute later, a killer whale ate them both. Why do things so often turn out differently than we expect?
2 animal rights protesters were protesting the cruelty of sending pigs to a slaughterhouse in Bonn. Suddenly, the pigs, all 2,000 of them, escaped through a broken fence and stampeded, trampling the 2 hapless protesters to death.
Why do things so often turn out differently than we expect? It’s sometimes a very weird world we live in, isn’t it? Yet, these unexpected, tragic outcomes seem little different from what we find in today’s Torah portion. Korach, a cousin of Moses, and, therefore, a member of the priestly tribe of Levi, decided to, “rise up against Moses, together with 250 Israelites, chieftains of the community chosen in the assembly, men of repute. They combined against Moses and Aaron and said to them, ‘You have gone too far! For all the community are holy, all of them, and Gd is in their midst. Why, then, do you raise yourselves above Gd’s congregation?’”
That doesn’t sound too terrible, does it? These are all reputable people of the community. If they have a criticism of something Moses and Aaron have done, is it such a crime that they voice it? They seem to be making the valid point that all the people are holy, and hence, should have more of a say in what’s going on. They seem to be asking for something we deeply cherish: greater democracy.
But the response is hardly what you’d expect. Moses attempts to put down the rebellion by appealing to some of Korach’s supporters—but without success. He gets extremely upset and challenges his critics to a duel with their fire-pans and incense. Scarcely had he finished speaking when the ground under them began to quake and the earth opened its mouth and swallowed them up. All Korach’s people and all their possessions went down alive, the earth closed over them and they vanished: “And a fire went forth from Gd and consumed the 250 men offering the incense.” (Numbers 16:35)
As if that wasn’t enough, the very next day, a terrible plague broke out in the camp to punish those who were still sympathetic to Korach. This time, it was Aaron who put incense on his fire pan—as instructed by Moses—as he went out to the people to try to stem the plague. He stood between the dead and the living until the plague was checked. Gd then settles the matter of who is to be the high priest and the leader through a miraculous sprouting of blossoms on Aaron’s staff.
Obviously, things are not what they seem. It’s like the woman who came home to find her husband in the kitchen, shaking frantically with what looked like a wire running from his waist toward and electric appliance. Intending to jolt him away from the deadly current, she whacked him with a handy plank of wood that happened to be by the back door, breaking his arm in 2 places. Till that moment, he had been happily listening and dancing to his IPod.
The missing IPod for the Korach story is found right at the very beginning: “Korach, son of Yitzhar, son of K’hat, son of Levi.” Usually, the Torah introduces people as so-and-so, the son or daughter of so-and-so. For the grandfather to be listed is unusual. For the great-grandfather to be listed, as it is here, is practically unheard of. The commentators, of course, want to know why.
Their answer is brilliant. Korach’s grandfather, they point out, had 4 sons—all of them, of course, Leviim. The eldest was Amram. His sons, Moses and Aaron, received the religious and political leadership of the people. The next eldest was Yitzhar, Korach’s father. The youngest was Uzziel. It was Uzziel’s son, Elitzafan, who received the honor of leading the tribe.
There was the problem: plain, old-fashioned jealousy. Korach felt that the honor of leading the tribe should have been his since his father was older. Since he didn’t get it, we would probably be correct in assuming he didn’t deserve it and his actions only confirm that. Korach was wealthy. He had a good family. He was respected. He was smart. He was well-liked. What more could he want? But it didn’t matter what he had. He only wanted what he couldn’t have—and that was power and when he couldn’t have it, revenge.
Once we understand the motivation for the crime, the punishment begins to make sense. Korach tried to “swallow up” all legitimate leadership in order to elevate himself. He swallowed up the needs of the community, of his friends, neighbors, and relatives. Hence, it was fitting that he and his followers were swallowed up. The plague of jealousy and illegitimate criticism of Moses and Aaron that he unleashed took a high toll in the community. Had it continued to spread, who can say if our people would ever have made it out of the wilderness to the land of Israel?
Jealousy usually begins with a small seed. And that seed begins with not appreciating one’s inner worth—that we are each an image of Gd and, therefore, of infinite value. And as jealousy spreads it can become all-consuming and destructive. There are certain forms of jealousy that are positive and good. There’s the concept in the Talmud of kinat sofrim, “the jealousy of scholars.” It’s good to be jealous of someone else’s knowledge, so that you would work to be more knowledgeable. It can be good to be jealous of the amount of tzedaka that some else gives, so as to aspire to give more yourself. But to covet someone’s possessions or wife or position can be most destructive—and a great sin. It’s saying to Gd that your management of the world is wrong —a world where some else has what you think you should have, a world where Moses is the leader and not Korach. If one can appreciate one’s inner holiness—one’s real value and worth as a human being—than there is little reason to ever be jealous.
Why have the Jews consistently been targets of hatred? Undoubtedly jealousy has played a strong part. What was Helen Thomas’ motive? Last Monday, Rabbi David Nesenoff launched his new blog www.rabbilive.com, and on it was a video he took when he went to the White House on May 27th celebrating Jewish Heritage month with his son. He interviewed several people about their feelings toward Israel and then he noticed Helen Thomas, the dean of the White House correspondents, who always asks the 1st question at a press conference—and he asked her. She was well known for her anti-Israel, almost anti-Semitic bias. However, thanks to Rabbi Nesenoff, we have it on tape saying: “Tell them to get the hell out of Palestine…they should go home to Poland and Germany.” This was too blatant and she had to resign. But everyone knew her bias before, so I wonder: if she had displayed a comparative view towards African Americans, would she not have lasted a year, let alone 4 decades? It can’t be because she was from a Lebanese Christian family because the famous comedian Danny Thomas was also from a Lebanese Christian family and he was a good friend to Israel. Undoubtedly, Helen Thomas has a deep issue about every human beings’ self-worth—especially hers!
Contrast that to the Detroit Tiger’s Amando Galaraga, who pitched, what was really a perfect game this week—a rarity in baseball. It only happened 20 times in more than 100 years. He was denied the honor because on the last out of the bottom of the 9th inning, the umpire, Jim Joyce, botched the call of a routine ground out and called the runner safe. The replay clear showed that he was out by a step. What followed showed the innate goodness of both Galarga, the pitcher, and Joyce, the umpire. The umpire as soon as he saw his mistake on video literally cried when he realized that with his call he had destroyed a pitcher’s dream of a perfect game. Galarga with ultimate grace comforted Joyce and said that those are the breaks of the game and then they hugged each other.
The next day, Leyland, the manager whose task it is to hand over the scorecard with the day’s lineup to the plate umpire, gave the task to Galargo who came out and gave the lineup to Joyce. In a perfect orchestration of goodness Joyce who was supposed to have the day off was at the plate to receive the scorecard from Galarga. All this with the cheers of the crowd at the Stadium. These were 2 men of class who understood the value and the worth of every human being.
Eyzeh hu asher? “Who is truly wealthy,” asks the Talmud (Avot 4:1), hasomeyach b’chelko, “one who is content with his portion in life.” Let us learn from the mistakes of Korach and his followers, of the contrast of Helen Thomas to Amando Galarago and Jim Joyce, to be not only content with what Gd gives us in life, but to make the most of it, understanding that it will then bring out the tzelem Elokim, “the image of Gd,” within us, for as Korach correctly taught, “all of us are holy.” Amen!
Rabbi Mark Hillel Kunis
6/23/01 Last Updated (Monday, 14 June 2010 13:58)
BEHAALOTCHA 5770
How would you like a 2nd chance? “For what?” you might ask. I’ll let you decide. Close your eyes for a moment as I ask you this question: if you could have 2 pass cards for a 2nd chance or a “do-over,” what 2 things would it be for? Hold on to that thought, I’ll return to it later.
The Torah today tells us about the very strange law of Pesach Sheyni. If a Jew was ritually unclean and, therefore, not fit to bring the Passover sacrifice, or if one was away on a journey and could not return in time to celebrate Passover, then he is given a 2nd chance a month later on the 14th of Iyar. Passover is a holiday of joy and happiness and if one could not partake of that happiness—through no fault of his own—Gd gives him another chance.
One of my colleagues tells the story of what happened when he was teaching this law. He mentioned that since we no longer offer the Korban Pesach, the Passover offering, because the Temple has not yet been rebuilt, it really doesn’t apply in our time. Suddenly a hand went up from an elderly gentleman saying, “Rabbi, I did it! I observed the 2nd Passover!” He explained that during WWII he was in the battle for Iwo Jima. The invasion was during Pesach and it was impossible to have a Seder, so the following month the Jewish chaplain arranged a 2nd Seder opportunity for all the Jewish personnel on the island.
The law of Pesach Sheyni is a metaphor, of sorts, for us. Sometimes life gives us a 2nd chance at happiness, and when it does, we need to embrace it.
This is Memorial Day weekend when we pause to remember those who have died in defense of our country. It was because of their bravery and self-sacrifice that we had a 2nd chance to live in freedom. It’s a good time for us to pause and reflect about being grateful for 2nd chances. No matter what mistakes we make, no matter what foolish decisions we arrive at, no matter the trouble we’re in, there’s always hope and new opportunities.
Some of you may have hoped for a 2nd chance pass card at being better parents to your children? You may feel that you have failed your kids, or not supported them adequately, or were poor role models, or did not impart proper values to them, or had little rapport. You can get a 2nd chance and change that. How? By discussing it openly with our kids, expressing regret and becoming the parent now you never were.
Some of you may have hoped for a 2nd chance pass card with your parents? Did you spurn a mother or father...did you rebel or hurt or belittle them? Do you regret that your relationship was not closer, that you rarely communicated and seldom visited? You can wipe the slate clean and get a 2nd chance. Become the child now you never were.
Some of you many have hoped for a 2nd chance at your careers, businesses or professions? Have you failed an assignment, botched up a job, made a bad impression? You can turn things around and begin again. Yes you can—despite the economy! You can have a 2nd chance.
How about a 2nd chance in business? Have you made a bad investment, a foolish decision? Were you tempted to liquidate as the economy began to sour, but didn’t and now you regret it? It’s not too late. You can have a 2nd chance.
Some of you may have hoped for a 2nd chance to finally—at long last—renew severed relationships! Have you been at all selfish, intolerant or demanding? Have you ruined a good relationship in the past that you now regret and feel remorse about? What if you could do it all over again? What if you had a 2nd chance in your marriage?
On this Shabbos when we read in the Torah about Gd giving us a 2nd chance, I ask you: what would you do differently the 2nd time around? If you could change just 2 mistakes, what would they be? Would it have to do with family relationships as a spouse, a sibling, a child? Would you change a foolish error in business? Would you live in the same place? Would you have chosen the same profession or business? Would you have lost your temper, been abusive, gambled, drunk, smoked?
I supposed there are some who would make no major changes, who are satisfied with their life decisions. I suspect, however, that most of us would do something quite differently given a 2nd time around. Life is full of missed opportunities. So often we look back with regret thinking, “If only.” “If only” we had spent more time with our children. “If only” we had seen the doctor in time. But we make a terrible mistake if we continue to live only in the past, looking back constantly with regret.
As Jews we really do have a 2nd chance. There is Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur wiping our sins clean so we can start over in the New Year. And forgiveness is something we can receive at any time—from Gd or from each other. We just have to ask.
Every day brings infinite possibilities. If we are blessed with health and strength, with our faculties, our loved ones, and the security of living in what Michael Medved likes to call “this greatest country on Gd’s green earth,” then there are always opportunities. No mistake is too great.
Each new day gives us the opportunity to demonstrate to others how much we love them—to demonstrate our awareness of their needs, our sensitivity to their susceptibilities. Each new day presents us with the opportunity to view situations from the other’s point of view, to exercise care in what we say and—most important—how we say it.
Do you remember what we used to say in the 60’s? “Every day is the 1st day of the rest of our lives.” We can make our lives better. The Torah tells us that Gd gives us 2nd chances. Nothing is ever hopeless. As the prophet Micah (7:8) puts it: “Though I am fallen, I shall rise again.”
A 2nd chance is ours for the asking as husbands and wives, as parents and children, as siblings and friends, as professionals or in business, we can always look forward to a new beginning. As Jews, there are opportunities for greater closeness to Gd every moment of every day. It is never too late!
As I began I asked you: if you could have 2 pass cards for a 2nd chance or a “do-over,” what 2 things would it be for? Do you get a 2nd chance in life? You don’t need to wait for Gd to hand you a Pesach Sheyni pass card. You can make the changes now in your life that will make a real difference. So what are you waiting for? Amen!
Rabbi Mark Hillel Kunis
5/29/10
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