The Power of the Month: Tevet and Kislev

Every month on the Jewish calender has it's own energy and power. The month in which you are born can tell you a lot about yourself.  Rabbi Anava explains the power of the month of Tevet [anger management], and below the month of Kislev.  Also see Jewish Astrology.

A Guard Rail for Your Ego

Photo Geof Kern

When you build a new house, you shall make a guard rail for your roof... [Ki Teitze 22:8]

 A roof, being the highest part of any structure, alludes to the ego, which gives a person an elevated impression of himself.

Thus, in order to prevent a person from ''falling off his roof'' by allowing his feelings of swollen self-esteem to degenerate into selfishness, we are warned to ''make a guard-rail for your roof'' - to carefully control and temper the ego with ''guard-rails''.

Based on Likutei Sichos vol 24 p 140 Lubavitcher Rebbe

Is This ''Generation Moshiach''?

Applied Chassidus with Rabbi Simon Jacobson: Is it possible, G-d forbid, that this generation won’t bring Moshiach? Why is childbirth so difficult? And more.

Why does G-d make the process of childbearing so difficult for women? Is there any other significance to the painful process aside for it being attributed to Chava’s sin?

Is it possible, G-d forbid, that this generation won’t be the one to bring Mashiach? Even though the Rebbe said we would, is it conceivable that we failed and another generation will succeed? After all, the Rebbe said that “it’s up to us.” So what happens if we don’t fulfill the mission given to us?

The fear of someone else’s impression of us, often times, handicaps us. Why do so many people worry about it? Is it a confidence issue? How can one get over worrying about what others may think of him/her?

These are among the relevant and provocative issues Rabbi Jacobson will address in this week’s 126th episode of MyLife: Chassidus Applied. Other topics that will be discussed include: the possible limits to making a dirah b’tachtonim, other projects that Rabbi Jacobson was involved in, and follow up to previously discussed concerns related to a secular education.

See more at ColLive

The Subtle Evil

Art by Ileanap

Parshat Matot 31:1-3

According to Chassidic thought, the war against the seven Cana'anite nations alludes to the ''battle'' of refining one's overtly undesirable character traits [which fall into seven broad categories, stemming from the seven emotional facilities of the Animal Soul - the Nefesh HaBehamis]  Consequently, this ''war'' is not relevant to the tribe of Levi, or to those who aspire to their spiritual level - as Rambam writes that this could be ''any type of person - whose spirit inspires him, and he resolves in his mind to set himself apart [from worldly pursuit], to stand before G-d and serve as His minister, to work for Him, and to know G-d'' [end of Laws of the Sabbatical and Jubilee Years].

In contrast, the war against Midian involved fighting against a subtle type of evil which is found in virtually every personality, even those who dedicate themselves as full time ''ministers'' of G-d.  Thus, even the Levites and those among the Jewish people who devote themselves ''to stand before G-d and serve as His ministers'' must participate in waging the spiritual war against Midian.

What is the ''subtle evil'' that can plague even the most dedicated servant of G-d? Chassidic thought explains that this is a lack of unity and camaraderie between one man and another, indicating underlying emotions of divisiveness and unjustified hatred.   All this arises from a sense of our over-inflated self-importance, which causes a person to be intolerant of others and eventually view them as enemies.  Clearly the war against these attributes is very important indeed.

Source: Based on Likutei Sichos vol 28 Lubavitcher Rebbe

The Character of the “Man” Moshe

From the Teachings of the Gaon and Tzaddik Rabbi David Hanania Pinto Shlita 

It is written, “Now the man Moshe was exceedingly humble, more than any person on the face of the earth” [Bamidbar 12:3].

We should reflect upon the expression “on the face of the earth,” which seems superfluous. What is the Torah trying to teach us with these extra words?

I would like to explain this by saying that the verse is telling us that just as the earth does not feel anything when Lashon Harah is spoken about it, or if it is scorned, the same exact thing applied to Moshe. He was so humble that he felt absolutely nothing when Miriam and Aaron spoke Lashon Harah about him.

We may also explain this verse by saying that Moshe possessed two characteristics:

The first is that he is called a “man,” and the second is that he is called “humble.” These are opposite characteristics.

How could Moshe excel in both things at the same time? The answer is that when it came to the honor of Heaven and the leadership of the Children of Israel according to the holy Torah, he acted as a “man,” and he was a warrior. Yet when it came to himself, Moshe was “humble, more than any person on the face of the earth,” as the holy Torah testifies.

The Secret to Success - Kill Your Ego

How to help kids with ADD and ADHD

I have a son who used to have ADHD, so whenever I heard a rabbi speaking about this topic, I tuned in.  However, to date, not one of these rabbis has ever had anything sensible to say about it, and to my horror some have even made fun of the problem, or denied that it even exists !  Finally Rabbi Alon Anava has once again come to the rescue.  He explains the spiritual reason, according to Kabbalah, although as he points out, if you want to really understand the process you would need to spend three years in a Yeshiva - but he does give us some great insights.  This is really something to think about, and if you are one of those people who ridicules the very real problem that exists, think again.

Moshiach the Leper?

by Rabbi Y. Y. Jacobson 

The Story of the Four Lepers In Our Own Lives 

The seventh chapter of Kings II (it is read as the Haftorah of the portions of Tazria-Metzora, related to the theme of those two portions), tells a fascinating story, about the “four lepers.”

The story takes place during the First Temple era, when the Syrian Army swept down on the Northern Kingdom of Israel and laid siege to the city of Samaria (Shomron). (Siege was the ultimate strategy in ancient warfare, comparable to a present day naval blockade. If an invading force could not penetrate the city walls, the enemy would encamp around the walls of the city, cutting off all supplies, especially food and water, and wait until the inhabitants were starved and forced to surrender.)

The city of Samaria was under siege by the Syrian army. The hunger was devastating. “A donkey’s head was being sold for food for eighty pieces of silver, and a cup of dove’s dung was a meal sold for five pieces of silver.” [Kings II 6:25]

The famine was so horrendous, people were resorting to cannibalism. One day the king of Israel, Jehoram (Yehoram), was walking along the inner walls of the city when a woman called to him, saying: "Your majesty, please help me." The king answered, "What is the matter?" The woman said, "My neighbor came to me, and said, 'Come, let us eat your [dead] son today, and then tomorrow we will eat my [dead] son.' So we cooked my son, and ate him. But then the next day when I said to her, 'Now let us eat your [dead] son.' But she refused, and has hidden her son from me [in order to have him for herself].”[1]

Jehoram, the king, was a fickle man. He blamed the great Jewish prophet of the time, Elisha (the disciple of Elijah the prophet), for his troubles, and had issued an edict of death against him. Jehoram even followed his soldier to Elisha’s quarters, to observe the arrest and execution. But instead of killing him, the king was confronted with a prophecy from Elisha declaring that G-d would provide deliverance for Israel the very next day.

"Then Elisha said, ‘Hear the word of the Lord. Thus says the Lord: ‘Tomorrow about this time a seah (a particular weight measure) of fine flour shall be sold for a shekel (a small currency), and two seahs of barley for a shekel, at the gate of Samaria.’’

"So an officer on whose hand the king leaned answered the man of G-d and said, ‘Look, even if the Lord would make windows in heaven [for rain to come down], could this thing be?’ And Elisha said, ‘In fact, you shall see it with your eyes, but you shall not eat of it.’" [2 Kings 7:1-2].

The Four Lepers

It is at this point where the narrative shifts from what’s happening inside the city walls to a scene outside the city walls—and this is where the haftorah of Tazria-Metzora begins—where four lepers are both starving and quarantined, because they are lepers and all lepers were quarantined outside of the city.

"Now there were four leprous men at the entrance of the gate; and they said to one another, ‘Why are we sitting here until we die? If we say, ‘We will enter the city,’ the famine is in the city, and we shall die there. And if we sit here, we die also. Now therefore, come, let us surrender to the army of the Syrians. If they keep us alive, we shall live; and if they kill us, we shall only die.’" [2 Kings 7:3-4]

They had at that point three options: 1) They could march back to the city that quarantined them in the first place, and try to get in. But what would be the point? There wasn’t any food inside the city. 2) They could march forward where the Syrian Army was encamped. The Syrians had plenty of food. But if the lepers did that, they might be killed on sight, because they were both lepers and from the enemy. 3) They could just sit there outside the walls of the city, and die from starvation without complication.

It was out of this deep distress that they said to each other: "Why just sit here until we die?"

The four lepers chose to get up and march directly to the camp of the Syrian army. In the evening hours, they marched toward the Syrian camp.

The Escape

It was then that something extraordinary occurred.

The Syrian troops imagined that they heard the noise of chariots, the sound of pounding of hundreds of horses' hooves. They were convinced they could hear the clashing of thousands of swords, the vanguard of an enemy army on the offensive. The Syrian army panicked and abandoned their camp, leaving their tents, armor, horses, and chariots, and all their food behind. In their perception, the Jews hired the Egyptian and Hittite armies to attack them. They fled for their lives.

[This miracle reminds us of what occurred on our own watch in June 1967 during the Six Day War. When it became clear that the Arabs were going to lose, and lose miserably, President Nasser of Egypt and King Hussein of Jordan concocted a story about the Americans and British entering the war on Israel's side. The demoralized Egyptians soldiers left mountains of shoes in the desert so as to run faster. They couldn't outrun Israeli tanks and so many were captured that the Israelis did not have where to place them].

A Loaded Camp

“And the lepers came to the edge of the camp, and they entered one tent, and they ate and they drank, and they carried off silver and gold and garments and they hid them; then they returned and entered another tent, and they carried items from there also and went and hid them.” (Kings II 7:8)

But then they experience a change of heart: “And they said to each other, ‘We are not acting properly. Today is a day of good news, and we are being quiet about it. If we wait till morning light, then we will have sinned. Now therefore, let us go and tell what we have learned at the King’s household.” [7:9]

The Good News

The lepers notified the guard at the gate of the city about the news. The gatekeeper had a hard time convincing the king that the Syrians had actually left and were not planning an ambush, but after sending some of his soldiers first, news came back to the monarch that indeed the Syrians had left behind all their belongings and enormous quantities of food.

There was a mad rush. The people ran out of the city to fetch the food of the Syrians. The prophecy of Elisha was fulfilled: A seah of wheat flower and two seah of barely were sold for a minimal shekel.

The king's right hand man, who had mocked Elisha the day before when the prophet foretold a miraculous deliverance, was assigned to patrol the gates and was trampled to death by the people who were rushing out to buy food at low prices. Elisha’s words to him, “you will see it but not eat it,” came to fruition. "Now the king had appointed the officer on whose hand he leaned to take charge of the gate. But the people trampled him in the gate, and he died, just as the man of G-d had said.” [2 Kings 7:17-18]

Do Something

Like all biblical stories, this one too contains many insights and lessons. Let’s focus on three.

Sometimes we feel stuck in life. We find ourselves between a rock and a hard ball. All options seem bleak. The worst thing to do in such a situation is to remain in one place. You must stand up and move. You must make a change; do something. Anything. But move forward. Even though you think you are subjecting yourself to further disaster, just making that move can transform your reality and you may discover an unexpected result that can alter your entire situation.

Sometimes you feel stuck in your business, in your marriage, in your personal psychological condition, or in any other paralyzing situation in life. The worst thing you can do is remain in one place and wait to wither away. Move! Reach out and speak to another person. Change your schedule. Start doing something new and different in your life. Open yourself up to new types of projects, peoples and experiences. Shock your system. Start biking; go to the gym; join a class, a group, become part of a project. Open yourself up to someone and share that which shames you most. Start learning Torah. Whatever you choose—but ensure it is something new and different. When we change our familiar patterns we open new pathways in our brains, and we generate new energy around us—and that can create opportunities unimaginable before.

Fear Not Opposition

There is another vital message here. Often we are afraid to initiate new projects, to undertake new ventures, to ask someone for assistance, since we are scared of what the response might be. If we march ahead, we might experience rejection, and that never feels good. If you are by nature soft and sensitive, getting a “no,” feels devastating. Some people never live out their dreams because they are too afraid of the feedback.

The lepers imagined that an entire Syrian army would be waiting for them to attack. Yet when they moved ahead, they realized there was nobody there.

When you are doing the right thing, when you are doing G-d’s work, do not worry that much about the perception of others and how they will respond. You march ahead and you might discover that there is no opposition.

A wise man (Reb Gershon of Zhlabin) once said to me: What is the difference between a 20-year old, a 40-year old and a 60-year old? The 20-year old is self-conscious about his place in the world. He is concerned to make a good impression, to be perceived as an awesome young man. He is very sensitive to how people view him. The 40-year old declares: “I do not care what people think of me. I could not care less how others look at me. I must be true to myself. You like me—good! You don’t like me, that’s fine too.” The 60-year old realizes that no one was ever looking at him.

Redemption from the Lepers

Finally, there is another profound message in this narrative.

The disease of leprosy was the quintessential malady of ancient times. Lepers were the outcasts of society. They were quarantined, isolated, and rejected. They lived alone in the outskirts of the city, separate from the rest of civilization. Yet the Book of Leviticus dedicates two complete portions to them—to their symptoms, their fate, their healing process and their return to society. Why?

The answer is in the story of the four lepers. We each have a leper within—that dimension of ourselves which makes us feel isolated, ugly and unworthy. The extraordinary message of this story is that sometimes the news about salvation comes from the four lepers outside the city. If we ignore the lepers around us, we deprive ourselves of our own redemption. And if we ignore the leper within ourselves, we deny ourselves our own liberation.

It is precisely the aspects of your personality which you are most ashamed of that may provide you with the most penetrating insights into your life and mission, if you only have the courage to expose it and dig deep into it. If you work with those parts of yourself, if you stare them in the eyes, if you acknowledge them with full honesty and vulnerability, if you share them with others you trust, you may discover how they constitute a spring board for your own moral, emotional and spiritual growth. The “leper” within you might set you free.

Moshiach the Leper

Which may be one way of explaining the perplexing Talmudic statement: “What is the name of Moshiach? The leper!”[2] Why would the Messiah be gives this title?

Because that which shames you most may hold the key to your redemption, if you will only muster the courage to embrace it and see it in its most pristine and pure state. What you have been running away from most, what you have tried to quarantine, what you are so deeply ashamed of, carries your deepest light. You need only trace it back to its authentic nature and origin, and then you will discover how this very “leper” is your Moshiach, your prophet and messenger of psychological and spiritual emancipation.

That is why the name given to Moshiach is the “metzorah,” the “leper.” How will Moshiach heal such an insane world (a “meshugene velt?”) He will show that the healing energy was always there. We were just misreading the map—the map of ourselves and of others.

The late Jewish philanthropist Irving Stone spent a lifetime studying greatness, writing novelized biographies of such men as Michelangelo, Vincent van Gogh, Sigmund Freud, and others. Stone was once asked if he had found a thread that runs through the lives of all these exceptional people. He said, "I write about people who sometime in their life have a vision or dream of something that should be accomplished and they go to work. They are beaten over the head, knocked down, vilified, and for years they get nowhere. But every time they're knocked down, they stand up. You cannot destroy these people. And at the end of their lives they've accomplished some modest part of what they set out to do."[3]

Footnotes:

[1] This is the interpretation of Rashi 6:29. Others explain it differently (see Radak and Ralbag).

[2] Sanhedrin 98b

[3] This essay is partially based on Likkutei Sichos vol. 22 Tazria-Metzorah. Vol. 37 Metzora. Sefer Hasichos 5751 Tzaria-Metzorah.

Source: Yeshiva.net

Achieving Great Heights

by Rabbi Yisrael Bronstein


וַיִּקְרָא  "Vayikra - He called" [Vayikra 1:1]

Why is the word "Vayikra" written with a small alef? asked R' Simchah Bunim of P'shischa.

The verse comes to teach us, answered the rebbe, about the extraordinary humility of Moshe Rabbeinu. Even when he was engaged in conversation with Hashem, the King of the entire world, Moshe remained the most humble of men.

To what can this be compared? asked the rebbe.  To a man who had scaled an enormous mountain and looking about, he could get the impression that he towers over all those around him.  However, if he is a wise man, he will realize that he is not tall at all, nor does his elevated position point to any personal greatness.  For it is the mountain upon which he is standing that is tall. He knows that he has not grown any taller and that he is still small compared to all the mountains around him.

This is the secret to Moshe Rabbeinu's humility, explained the rebbe. For even though he had achieved great heights, so much so that Hashem was calling him in order to speak with him, he nonetheless remained humble, as he did not attribute any of his greatness to his own personal strengths.

There is a commonly asked question regarding the word וַיִּקְרָא in this parshah: Why is it spelled with a small alef?

The word Vayikra begins the sefer that deals with sacrificial offerings. The main purpose of bringing sacrifices is to bring atonement to a person who sinned. But that is only accomplished if the person regrets his previous misdeeds and repents wholeheartedly for what he has done.

The mussar masters have taught us that the trait of haughtiness lies at the root of all sin. A humble and subdued person does not sin easily, but one whose heart is filled with pride and arrogance pays little heed to rebuke, so he will inevitably succumb to sin.

The letter alef stands for the word ani - I. "Vayikra" is spelled here with a small alef to teach us that if we make our ani small - if we make ourselves small and act with humility - then we will avoid sins and we will have no need to bring sacrificial offerings.

Mental Illness: Where does it come from? How to fix it?

Rabbi Alon Anava

 

Moshiach's Arrival: How Do We Know It's Imminent

I ''accidentally'' stumbled upon this shiur, while I was looking for something else.  It is one of the best shiurim I've heard.   It was given a couple of years ago, but is timeless - absolutely brilliant

Rabbi Shimon Kessin speaking at KSY, Kehillas Shivtei Yeshurun, in Ramat Beit Shemesh, Israel in 2013.

 

Pride

Art by Ben Goosens

Text by Rabbi David Hanania Pinto Shlita 

Pride is a type of currency that the Supreme King has declared null and condemned in the Torah: “Beware lest you forget the L-RD your G-d, Who brought you out of the land of Egypt.” In fact, the man of pride forgets his Creator, as it is written: “Your cattle and sheep increase, and you increase silver and gold for yourselves … and you may say in your heart, ‘My strength and the might of my hand made me all this wealth!’ Then you shall remember the L-RD your G-d, that it was He Who gave you strength to make wealth.” The king himself is also warned, “so that his heart not become haughty over his brothers.” If the Torah judged it necessary to make this recommendation to the king, how much more so is it essential for ordinary people, in order that they not lord it over one another!

A person can act arrogantly with his ears, by not listening to the cries of the poor, or by his nose, if he is disgusted by standing near the poor or going to their homes because of the smell. One can also be arrogant by one’s words, by making haughty and brazen remarks against the upright. Pride can be recognized by eating and dressing habits, with the man who wears pretentious clothing. The Torah warns us concerning this: “Do not follow the ways of the nations.” Arrogant men are abysmal in G-d’s eyes – “All haughty hearts are loathsome to G-d.” These people will be delivered to their desires because G-d, Who loathes them, will not come to their aid. And even if a man does not demonstrate his arrogance to others by his actions or his words, but rather keeps it in his heart, he is called “loathsome,” for it is written: “All haughty hearts are loathsome to G-d” – even if his pride is only in his heart.

An Eighth of an Eighth

"I have become unworthy through all the acts of kindness" [Vayishlach 32:11]

The Vilna Gaon was once asked to explain Chazal's statement [Sotah 5a]  "Said R'Chiya bar Ashi in the name of Rav: A Talmid chacham must have one-eighth of an eighth [of haughtiness]".  

Rashi explains that it is essential for a talmid chacham to possess this minute amount of pride in order to prevent those who are ignorant in Torah learning from making light of him and his words.  Why did Chazal choose specifically the measure of one-eighth of an eighth?

The term "one eighth of an eighth" answered the Gaon, is not a reference to a particular measure. Rather it is hinting at the eighth verse of the eighth parsha of the Torah.  The eighth portion in the Torah is Parshas Vayishlach, and the eighth verse of the parsha [32:11] begins with the word "katonti" - "I am very small".

While a talmid chacham must possess a certain amount of arrogance, it must be a "very small" amount.

Source: Rabbi Yisrael Bronstein

The Trait of Arrogance

וְלֹא תָבִיא תוֹעֵבָה אֶל בֵּיתֶךָ 

Nor should you bring an abomination into your house [Eikev 7:26]

The verse teaches us, noted R' Levi Yitzchak of Berdichev, just how despicable the trait of arrogance truly is.  It is so abhorred that one is forbidden to even allow a haughty individual to enter his home.

We learn this from a verse in Mishlei: ''Every haughty heart is the abomination of Hashem'' [Mishlei 16:5]

We see, therefore, that a haughty individual is referred to as an ''abomination'', about which our verse explicitly states:  "And you must not bring an abomination into your home''.

Source: Rabbi Y. Bronstein

Tikkun for an Evil Eye



Art: Linda Boucher

"He who possesses a beneficient eye shall be blessed." [Proverbs 22:9]

There is a “beneficient eye” and an “evil eye”. Both terms have been used for several millennia and are found in the Talmud as indicators of the measure of a man.

Abraham was the paradigm of one who possesses a “beneficient eye”. He always looked for good in others, and felt neither jealousy of, nor hatred for, his fellow man. Bilaam, on the other hand, epitomized the possessor of an “evil eye” – one who always looks for fault or is jealous of another’s possessions or status.

The Talmud, when referring to the evil eye, credits it with almost mystical powers. Looking at another’s possessions with jealousy in your eyes can cause evil to befall that person. For this reason Talmudic law forbids us to build our homes too close to that of our neighbours. Privacy is very important, lest we look upon our neighbours’ possessions with a covetous eye. Neighbours should maintain a reasonable distance between one another, or, at the very least, homes should be built with a separation and a space between them.

Having an “evil eye” is usually understood as looking at another person with the intent that evil should befall him. It also includes coveting another’s possessions, being annoyed at his success (as if his success somehow impinges on our ability to succeed in life), pettiness and so on.

Rebbe Nachman teaches that an evil eye leads to an increased breathing rate. Somehow, jealousy and rage at another’s success causes one to draw breath at an accelerated pace.The Talmud therefore teaches “The cup of benediction at the conclusion of a meal should be given to one with a good eye. It is thus written (Proverbs 22:9) “He who possesses a beneficient eye shall be blessed.” Do not only read “shall be blessed” but shall bless….”

Conversely, one should beware of people with stingy and jealous eyes, as King Solomon cautions (Proverbs 23:6) “Do not break bread with [one who possesses] an evil eye”.

It is not merely a matter of superstition. As much as a good eye blesses, an evil eye takes. The source of the power of the evil eye is greed. When one looks upon another's possessions with greed, and the other is in any way guilty of mis-using his money, or is otherwise unworthy of the wealth he possesses, he might lose his possessions, G-d forbid. Clearly the way we look upon another's possessions can arouse Divine judgment against him. In the same vein, when we view the possessions of others generously, we can with a mere look of our eyes, bring blessing upon them.

When we realise that the eyes are the "windows to the mind" the significance of "evil eye" increases.

Rebbe Nachman taught: Memory depends upon the eyes, as in (Exodus 13:9) "[the tefillin shall be as] a remembrance between your eyes". In order to guard one's memory, one must first guard oneself from an evil eye - from evil thoughts about others, from jealousy, and from all forms of negativity. The evil eye can cause harm not only to the one being focused upon, but also to the one who is focusing, to an even greater degree. Conversely, maintaining an evil eye goes hand in hand with forgetfulness."

Yet we needn't live in constant fear of the evil eye, of others who may wish us harm. Rebbe Nachman teaches that if we feel incapable of guarding ourselves against an evil eye, then we should flee from it. However, if we can come to understand the essence of the evil eye, our actions can be far more effective: we can rectify it.

For example, a person might have an evil eye against another's position in life. This evil eye stems from the fallen attribute of Malkhut (kingship) which, when blemished, leads to low self-esteem and the need to put others down in order to get ahead. To correct one's own fallen Malkhut, one should strive to elevate G-d's Malkhut - by learning Torah or by otherwise disseminating G-d's Name in the world. In this way, one demonstrates one's allegiance to G-d, rather than to one's own need for self-aggrandizement. This serves to rectify the evil eye of the fallen Malkhut at its root.

Source: "Anatomy of the Soul" - Chaim Kramer - from the writings of Rebbe Nachman of Breslov

When you invite jealousy, you're inviting negative energy from someone else. For this insensitivity or transgression on your part, you may incur a Divine consequence of losing some of your blessing. [If you give a child a toy and he hits his little brother with it, you might take the toy away. He's not using it the way you intended.]

Another spiritual rule that the kabbalists describe, explains the evil eye like this:

When someone stares at your blessing and thinks, "Why should so-and-so have that brand new Hummer? He's not so righteous. Why is God rewarding him?", it's like a complaint to Heaven, and an accusation that gets registered. The heavenly court then examines you and your blessing to determine if you in fact deserve it. If you don't, your blessing may be damaged or lost.

Of course, the accuser doesn't get off scott free, either, because then the heavenly court decides to investigate the accuser. "Who is this that comes to judge My child?" God asks.

So it's always a bad idea to give someone else an evil eye. And it's a bad idea to expose yourself to it, too.

The Soul of Addiction

The Golden Calf You and I Construct

By: Rabbi YY Jacobson 

Wisdom of a Child

A child sees the bulletin of the Synagogue announcing that the congregation had just hired a new rabbi, his name is Rabbi Dr. Epstein. The child is so excited that the new rabbi is also a doctor, that the next time he has a stomach ache, he calls the Synagogue.

"I would like to speak to the Rabbi Dr.," the boy says. The rabbi gets on the line and asks how he can be of help. "Well rabbi, the boy says, I have a stomach ache and I was wondering what you suggest I do."

"Sorry son, I'm not a medical doctor," replies the rabbi.

"What type of doctor are you?" asks the boy. "I am a Dr. of Philosophy," was the response.

The child thought for a moment and then asked, "What type of sickness is that?"

What's the Big Deal?

It is difficult for us to relate to the boundless passion that inspired the Jewish people to create and worship a calf of gold, merely 40 days after they stood at Mt. Sinai and heard the Divine decree of (1) "You shall have no other gods before me." After all, are there any among us who would find delight in dancing around a molten calf and declaring, "This is Your G-d, O Israel? (2)."

Yet, even a superficial reading of this week's Torah portion, Ki Sisa, in which the story of the golden calf is related, indicates the cataclysmic effect of this seemingly meaningless event on the eternal destiny of the Jewish people (3). Why did the creation of a foolish idol by a group of Jews in the Sinai desert become one of the most central episodes in the history of the Jewish people?

Abraham's Search

In Maimonides' laws on idolatry, where he describes the first Jew's quest for truth and his recognition of Monotheism, we read that initially, Abraham was "immersed amongst the foolish idol worshippers of Ur Kasdim [a city in Mesopotamia]; his father, mother and the entire population—he amongst them—all worshipped idols (4)."

Asks Rabbi Schneur Zalman of Liadi (5): Why did Maimonides find it important to emphasize in his book of Jewish law (not Jewish history) that the first Jew was steeped in idol worship (6)?

The Soul of Idol Worship

By failing to understand the underpinning virtues of idol worship we are unintentionally engaging in just that: idol worship. Let me explain:

What is the essence of idol worship? Nothing more than a person in need of a power in his life, attributing that power to a particular object or person and thus surrendering his or her self to that object or person, worshipping it as a deity.

The problem of idol worship lies not in the yearning and need for a power that leads one to worship an idol; this yearning and need is, in fact, positive, even sacred. It is in accepting the notion that a worthless and lifeless object carries within it the fulfillment of one's yearning—that is what turns idol worship into a meaningless and often destructive pursuit.

This is why it is important that we know that the first Jew once passionately worshipped idols. Had this young man been indifferent to the idols of his native land, he never would have searched for and discovered the true G-d. Since Abraham yearned for truth and craved intimacy with G-d, he passionately devoted himself to worship the idols of his father's home in the erroneous belief that they embodied the ultimate truth of the cosmos.

In other words, underlying Abraham's fiery idol worship was a soul yearning for the one living G-d. Thus, when he matured, he discovered that his sacred craving needed to be redirected toward the true G-d and not to the false substitutes for G-d.

The Soul of an Impulse

We all experience in our daily lives various impulses and urges directed toward certain people or particular things.

Are you infatuated with a particular person? Are you starving for attention, compliments and approval? Do you crave nicotine, alcohol or weed? Are you obsessed with an unceasing urge for physical intimacy? Are you in love with food? Do you enjoy dominating and controlling other people's lives?

Judaism teaches (7) that these impulses and many others are not necessarily negative or destructive in and of themselves. In fact, all of these cravings may be expressing the purest and most spiritual needs of the soul. At the core of a crush on another human being or an obsession with intimacy, food or attention, may be the longing of one's soul for a sense of inner worth and dignity, for companionship, vulnerability and self fulfillment.

Our psyches, however, distort our clarity and attribute false symbolism to these essentially hollow pursuits. As a result of this distortion we—just like the Jews in the desert—devote our time and passion to carefully construct and worship our personal "golden calves" in the mistaken belief that they will fill the void in our heart and nourish the hunger of our souls.

Behind many an addiction there is a profound yearning to receive or give love. But our minds are often so bruised and wounded that the outlet we target with our addiction to achieve that love is an “idol,” a futile target which will only distance us from the true love we are searching for.

The Torah's war against the creation of the golden calf is central to our mission in life. It symbolizes our daily relentless effort of turning our attention from the false carriers of value to the true carriers of value.

To read the footnotes click here

Just One Friend

by Rabbi Michoel Gourarie

One of the important relationships that form human existence is friends. In Pirkei Avot [Ethics of the Fathers], our sages teach: "Make for yourself a mentor and acquire for yourself a friend". When analyzing the text of this instruction we notice that sages talk about a 'friend' and not 'friends'. Is one friend sufficient? Wouldn't someone with only one friend be considered anti-social?

The answer to this question lies in the definition of a friend. Friends are not just people that we can socialize with and enjoy their company. A friend is not just someone who we can talk for hours with, or a person whose sense of humor we find entertaining.

A true friend is someone with whom we build an inner connection extending beyond superficialities. True friendship is a relationship built on trust and acceptance. The famous Chassidic Rabbi of Kotzk said that each person should have at least one friend that he can tell all of his secrets to, even the most shameful ones. A true friend is someone who is able to accept us unconditionally and would never let us down.

While we might have many acquaintances or many people that we share good conversation with, one real friend might be hard to find. But one good friend is all we need.

Why Me?

by Rabbi Aron Moss

Question of the Week:

Does G-d pick on some people? I think he is picking on me because I have suffered one loss after another for much of my life. It seems that as soon as I have survived one tragedy, another one comes crashing down on me. I always bounce back but I am starting to take it personally...

Answer:

There was once a tow-truck driver who lived near a muddy old country road. Every day he would jump into his truck and drive a mile or so to a particularly sludgy bend in the road, and every day his truck would get stuck in the mud. But it was a trusty old truck, and its chunky tires and growling engine would always be able to beat the mud and climb up onto solid ground.

Most days, as he drove along he would encounter other motorists who had unknowingly ventured onto the muddy road and got stuck in the bog. Some of them had been trapped there for hours, haplessly revving their engines and watching their wheels spin aimlessly in the muck. The truck driver would appear like a savior and offer them a tow, drag them out and set them back on the road.

The truck driver's son once asked him, "Why do you always drive down this muddy road. You always get stuck in it. Why don't you take your truck somewhere smoother, where the road is clear and dry?"

"That's the whole point," said the truckie to his son. "My tow-truck has the power to get through that mud. The only reason I pass by there every day is to find others who are stuck and can't get out themselves. That's what a tow truck is for."

Some souls are like tow-trucks. They somehow have the strength to burst through the thickest and muddiest roads of life. No matter what life throws at these people, they muster the inner fortitude to get through. And so they keep getting thrown into the abyss, over and over again.

What these souls probably don't even realize is that they are helping others. When you face a tough time and beat it, you bring light into that dark place, which can shine a path for others who are stuck in their own darkness. It could even be that the only reason you had to pass through that dark roadway is to help drag other souls out of their darkness.

Sometimes we help others directly, by sharing our experiences and teaching a new way to those who can't see a way out. Or it may happen indirectly. The mere fact that you went through it and survived blazes a pathway, opens a door, and other suffering souls whom you may never meet suddenly find a way out of their quagmire and are set free.

So perhaps you are a tow-truck soul. Perhaps sometimes you are being towed. We all experience both. But if we would realize that every time we conquer our own darkness we may be helping someone who can't help themselves, we would be inspired to keep on trucking.

Potential: A Gift of Fire

The sages tell us that out of one thousand students who embark on the path of Torah study, only one emerges worthy of rendering halachic decisions [Vayikra Rabbah 2:1]. Hashem endows some people with more natural gifts - such as superior intelligence and less of a propensity towards being distracted - than others.

Natural abilities are like a fire: if they're misdirected they become destructive.

Yichus is also a gift of fire. Torah is the vessel that can safely handle the fire, but if someone doesn't have Torah, then all his inherited talents and energy become a fire than can consume him. If he doesn't use his fire for Torah, then it will be used for other things, or will ultimately consume the person himself.

Source: Rabbi Mendel Kaplan

"Reb Mendel and His Wisdom" by Yisroel Greenwald

Silence: The Language of Connection

by Rabbi Michoel Gourarie

Art: Luis Beltran

In Pirkei Avot a great rabbi taught:

"All my days I grew up among the sages and did not find anything better for the body than silence."

Jewish sources define the human being as "the speaker". The ability to communicate is central to human function. Speech allows us to express our feelings, develop our emotions, explain concepts, influence other people and strengthen relationships.

Why then would the sage suggest that silence is a value worth pursuing? Isn't silence the absence of speech?

The answer lies in the definition. There are two forms of silence. One is just absence of words and the other is a prerequisite and foundation of effective speech.

The first silence is a negative trait that stems from an inability or unwillingness to communicate effectively. This silence [unlike speech] causes division and separation, creating dysfunction in human relationships.

Some examples:

• Getting upset and giving someone silent treatment. When we are offended or hurt, respectful conversation is the only tool to resolve issues and repair relationships. Remaining silent and refusing to talk is a form of aggression and totally ineffective.
• A parent who is afraid of his/her children and cannot be assertive with appropriate guidance and direction. This is a silence that comes from weakness and leads to dysfunctional behavior.

The second is a good silence that creates the platform for effective and positive speech. It allows the goals of communication to be achieved. True communication can only occur when there is mutual understanding and deep respect for each other's position. For this to take place our words must be preceded and guided by appropriate silence. This means:

Waiting to respond so that we can think before we talk rather than speak impulsively.

To actively listen to someone else without interrupting them so that we can really understand their perspective and that they can feel heard.

Creating boundaries around our words so that we carefully choose words that will bring us closer together and remain silent when they create more distance.

It is this form of silence that the sage is referring too. Before we can be true to our identity as "speakers and communicators" we must learn the art of good silence.

Being quiet when we should talk creates dysfunction and disunity among us. But silence, when timed correctly, is the language of connection.