In one of the many
mitzvahs that teaches us how to deal with animals, the Torah commands us not to
kill a mother and its offspring on one day.

The Sefer HaChinuch
explains that one of the rationales behind the mitzvah is “to train ourselves
in the trait of mercy, and to distance ourselves from the trait of cruelty.
Even though we are permitted to slaughter animals to eat, we must do so in a
merciful manner. Killing both the mother and the child in the same day is
merciless and will train us in brutality. Therefore, the Torah forbids
it.”

This Sefer
Ha’Chinuch is difficult to understand. If the Torah is concerned about
the good of the animal and its suffering, then the logical thing to do
would be to forbid slaughtering it. If, on the other hand, the Torah is
concerned about man and the damage such actions will have on him, then
slaughtering another living creature to consume its flesh is about as barbaric
an act as one could imagine. Surely the act of killing the animal should be
forbidden altogether. Yet the Torah allows you to kill animals for any
productive reason: whether for their hides, their meat, or any other use. Not
only that, you may slaughter as many of them as you like. You may butcher a
thousand cows in one day to make shoes to bring to the market – this won’t lead
you to cruelty – but make sure that none of these animals are related. If two
of those cows are mother and child, it is barbaric. Don’t do it! This mitzvah
seems very difficult to understand.

The answer to this
question is based on understanding how our middos are shaped.

In many places the Sefer
HaChinuch stresses that a person’s actions molds his very personality.
If he acts with kindness and compassion, these traits become part of his inner
nature. He will then feel other people’s pain, and it will become difficult for
him to ignore their pleas for help. He will become a kind, compassionate
person. The opposite is true as well. If a person acts with cruelty, this trait
will become part of him. It will be more difficult for him to care about
another person’s plight. He will have a difficult time being sensitive to the
suffering of others. He will have adopted callousness into his inner essence.

Dovid Ha’Melech was a mighty warrior

According to this logic,
it would follow that Dovid Ha’Melech should have been one of the
cruelest men in history. He was known as a mighty, merciless warrior. He killed
a mountain lion with his bare hands. He won the rights to marry Shaul’s
daughter by killing and disfiguring 200 Philistim and bringing back their body
parts to the king. When Avshalom waged war against him, Chushi advised, “Do not
think of ambushing him (Dovid) at night, for everyone knows that he fights like
a bear.” And Dovid said about himself, “I will seek out my enemy and have no
mercy upon them.”

Yet we know that Dovid
was one of the kindest, most compassionate men who ever lived. Tehillim
is not the expression of a cruel man. It is a manifestation of his pure
devotion to HASHEM, the outpourings of a heart that is pure, kindly and full of
compassion. How is it possible that going to war didn’t ruin him?

The
formula for perfecting one’s middos

The Orchas Tzadikim in his introduction
explains that perfecting one’s middos is comparable to a chef preparing a meal.
The right ingredients, in the right proportions, prepared in the right manner,
will yield a delicious dish. However, all three have to be correct. If, for
example, instead of sautéing the onions for 10 minutes, you leave them on the
flame for an hour, or if instead of a teaspoon of salt you add a cup, the food
will be inedible. It is the quality of the ingredients, in the proper amounts,
prepared correctly, that determines the final product.

So too, he explains, when working on one’s
character traits. It is the right amount of the right middah in the right time
that is the key to perfection. Each middah has its place, time, and correct
measure.

This seems to be the answer to Dovid Ha’Melech. When
he went to war, it was in the manner that HASHEM directed him. HASHEM designed
the human and understands the delicate balance within him: what affects him and
how. HASHEM commanded us to make use of certain behaviors, in certain measures,
and at certain times. The same act when done for the wrong reason will be
disastrous to the person. However, when it’s done for the right reasons, in the
right measure, it will not harm him. Dovid remained pure and unsullied because
he followed the Torah’s system of self-perfection, designed by the only One who
truly understands the nature of the human.

The Torah: the ultimate system of perfection

This seems to be the answer to the Sefer
Ha’Chinuch as well. The Torah isn’t concerned about the pain of the animal;
it is concerned about man. Man is the reason for creation. Everything in
existence was formed to serve him. However, man was fashioned in a delicate
balance. If he uses this world for its intended purpose, in the right way, in
the right time, then he grows and perfects himself. However, if he uses the
world incorrectly, in the wrong manner, or to the wrong extent, he is damaged
by that process.

The act of killing a mother and child is akin to
wiping out generations; it is pitiless and cruel. HASHEM, Who understands the
balance and nature of man, has told us that killing an animal for good use will
not lead you to a hardened nature, provided you do so within the given
boundaries. Remain within the system and you are safe. Leave these guidelines
and you are in grave danger.

This concept is very applicable as it helps us
appreciate the wisdom of the Torah’s system for growth. There is much that
modern man understands about the inner workings of the human, and there is at
least as much, if not more, that he doesn’t understand. HASHEM has
designed us and has given us the guidebook for perfection. It is our job to
follow the Torah’s directives in the right balance, in the right time, in the
right manner, thereby actualizing our potential as the reason for all of
creation.

The new Shmuz book: Stop
Surviving and Start Living is now in print! “Powerful”, “Thought
Provoking”, “Life changing”, is what people are saying about it.  Copies are now available in stores, or at www.TheShmuz.com, or by calling
866-613-TORAH (8672).

“And a man from the house of Israel, and from the converts who live with you, who shall consume any blood, I shall place My face against the soul of the one who consumed blood, and I shall cut it off from amongst your nation.” Vayikrah” 17: 10

The Torah warns us many times and with many different exhortations not to consume blood. The Kli Yakar points out than in Devarim the Torah tells us not to eat blood because “It will be good for you and your children after you”. He explains that: “Consuming blood brings cruelty into the one who eats it, and the nature of the father is given over to his children to be like him. Therefore, the Torah warns us not to consume blood so that we don’t acquire this nature.”

It seems clear from the Kli Yakar that consuming blood will cause a change in the nature of the person who consumes it. His sensitivities and reactions will have changed, and he will become a different person. However, not only will he become callous and pitiless, these traits will become part of his genetic transmission, so that any child that he then has will have this same predisposition towards cruelty.

This concept seems difficult to understand. Firstly, how does consuming blood make a person cruel? Secondly, how does that change affect the very hereditary transmission of a person so that his children will be pitiless as well?

To understand the answer to this, we need to focus on the basic make-up of man.

The Chovos Ha’Levovos (Sha’ar Avodas Elokim 3) explains that HASHEM created man out of two very distinct parts – a nefesh ha’Schili (intellectual soul) and a nefesh Ha’Bahami (animal soul). The “I” that thinks, feels, and remembers is comprised of two separate and competing parts, each one with its own nature, tendencies, and needs. The nefesh ha’Schili desires only that which is good, right, and noble. It yearns to help others, it hungers for meaning and purpose, and more than anything, it needs to be close to HASHEM.

Then there is the other part of man — the animal soul. It too has desires and inclinations, and it too hungers for things. One way to better understand the animal soul in man is to visit its parallel in the wild kingdom.

Understanding the Nefesh Ha’Bahami
HASHEM imprinted into the essence of each animal all the instincts necessary for its survival as well as for the continuation of its species. The animal doesn’t have a cognitive, reasoning element. It doesn’t have an “I” that is the master of the ship. But it does have a vibrant essence that is programmed to seek out its needs. That part is the nefesh of the animal.

That nefesh is pure instinct, drives, and passions, and is affected by both internal and external triggers. In the spring, birds fly north and engage in a fury of nest-building and mating. The individual bird doesn’t purposefully choose its mate. Two robins don’t sit down and say to each other, “It’s time for us to settle down and raise a family.” The animal is attracted by the sight, smell, and sound of one of its species, and then will hotly pursue it – often becoming bonded for life. It is driven by instinct in a preset pattern.

Those instincts and desires are affected by various forces. A bird from a different species will not elicit the mating response, nor will even the same bird in a different time of the year. In the dead of winter, these desires lay dormant. The change in season brings them forward to the extent that they take over the existence of that bird. They have been pre-programmed to respond to stimuli that allow for the success of the individual bird and the species as a whole.

The answer to the Kli Yakar
This seems to be the answer to the question. The Kli Yakir is teaching us that when the Torah forbids us to eat blood, it is because consuming it would make a dramatic change in our inner essence. We would be ingesting part of the nefesh of that animal, and it would become part of our own Nefesh Ha’Bahami. Our conscious reality would change because part of who we are is the animal soul, and we would thereby acquire cruelty. This change is so potent that if the person who drank that blood were to then have a child, that child would also have cruelty as part of his inner make-up.

Much like certain chemicals can affect a man’s mood; the Torah is teaching us that there are some properties that have a permanent effect on the nature of man. They change his Nefesh, and that changes the way that he thinks and feels.

Similarly, the mefarshim explain to us that none of the kosher animals are predators. The nature of a predatory animal is to hunt down and kill. If a person were to consume meat from such an animal, some part of the Nefesh of that animal would enter into man’s soul and he would acquire an aggressive, violent nature. The Torah forbids it because it would damage the fine balance in man.

This concept is very significant as it helps us better understand the Torah as the system of human perfection. HASHEM is the Creator, and He wrote the Torah as the guidebook for human growth. Contained within it are all the tools necessary to reach greatness. Some of the tools are easily understood and some takes years to fully comprehend, but the system is there. By following the guidelines, restrictions, and commandments, a person guarantees that he is headed in the right path – using his stay on the planet to grow and perfect himself.

For more on this topic please listen to Halacha Boot Camp – Hilchos Kashrus – Introduction, Parts 1 and 2

The new Shmuz book: Stop Surviving and Start Living is now in print! “Powerful”, “Thought Provoking”, “Life changing”, is what people are saying about it. Copies are now available in stores, or at www.TheShmuz.com, or by calling 866-613-TORAH (8672).

Parshas Metzorah

While traveling from
city to city selling his wares, a peddler approached the city of Tzipori and
called out in a loud voice, “Who wants to buy the potion of life? Who
wants life?” A crowd gathered around him. Rebbe Yanni heard the commotion
and stood by watching. When he heard the man’s offer, he said to him, “I would
like to purchase some.” The peddler responded, “It’s not for you and your
type.” Rebbe Yanni persisted. Finally the peddler took out a Tehillim and
opened it to the posuk, “Who is the man who wants life? Guard your tongue
from evil.”

Rebbe Yanni exclaimed,
“All of my life I’ve read that posuk, but I never appreciated how simple it was
until this peddler revealed it to me!” — VaYikrah Rabba 16:2

What did the peddler reveal to Rebbe Yanni?

It seems that Rebbe Yanni learned a great lesson
from this peddler, something so powerful that it impacted on both his outlook
and his actions. The difficulty with this Medrash is that it doesn’t seem that
Rebbe Yanni learned anything new. He clearly knew the posuk before the
peddler said it. He’d probably reviewed those words hundreds of times before.
As he was a Tanna, he had mastered the entire Torah and understood the
meaning, depth, and implications of those words. What new concept did Rebbe
Yanni learn from the peddler?

The answer to this can be best understood with a moshol.
Imagine that a mother and father are looking for the right yeshiva for
their son. After much investigation, they hit upon the perfect solution. It’s
got the right type of environment, the right type of boys, just the right blend
– a perfect fit. But then they hear the news. The boys in that yeshiva smoke!

“Oh my goodness!” they both exclaim. “Now what? It
may be a great yeshiva, and our son might flourish there, but everyone
knows that smoking kills. It’s a habit that’s very difficult to break. It’s
just not worth it.”

So they decide not to send their son to that yeshiva.

While you and I may debate whether they made the
right choice, no one would argue that they have a very valid concern. After
all, bad habits really are difficult to change, and smoking does have
serious health consequences.

Now let’s play out the same scenario with just one
little adjustment: same young man, same yeshiva, same perfect fit.
However, instead of the parents finding out that the boys smoke, they find out
that the boys in that yeshiva speak lashon harah. What would we
anticipate the parents’ reaction to be?

“Oh my goodness! The Torah warns us against lashon
harah! With one conversation, a person can violate dozens of prohibitions.
And worse, it can easily become a lifelong habit. Lashon harah kills… It
may be a great yeshiva, but forget it. We can’t take the chance!”

Somehow it doesn’t seem likely that that would be
the reaction. More likely, their attitude would be, “Listen, it’s not something
we are happy to hear, but it isn’t a reason to disqualify a good yeshiva.”

Let’s analyze the difference in their reactions.
Assuming that these are well-educated people, they know that the Torah
specifically, clearly, and definitively tells us that speaking lashon harah
kills, and that guarding one’s tongue is the Torah’s guarantee to long life.
They have heard many shmuzin discussing the severity of this issue, and
they don’t question it.

On the other hand, they are aware that while
smoking has a high correlation to various diseases, at the end of the day it is
only a small percentage of people who actually die from smoking-related
complications.

So smoking, which might kill, they fear, yet lashon
harah, which they know definitely kills, they aren’t that concerned
about. How are we to understand this anomaly?

The answer is that when medical science tells us something,
we accept it as truth. These are the facts; this is reality. Unfortunately,
when the Torah tells us something, it just isn’t real. “You need a lot
of emunah to really accept that. I don’t know if I am on that level .”
And so in the parents’ minds, “Lashon harah. . . well, I mean, a mitzvah
it’s not, but it surely isn’t as dangerous as smoking. Smoking really kills!”

This seems to be the answer to Rebbe Yanni. As
great as he was, and as much as he accepted every word of the Torah as
completely true, on some level it wasn’t 100% real to him. The peddler revealed
to Rabbi Yanni that the Torah teaches us that “lashon harah kills” in
its most simple, direct meaning. It then became real to him.

The greatest distance on earth is between the head and the heart

There are two great lessons for us in this. One is
simply to understand the gravity of the words that we utter — their effects on
others and on ourselves. The second lesson is much more broad-based and affects
all areas of our growth. We humans are motivated by that which we consider
valuable. If we live in a culture that uses money and material possessions as
the measure of success, this affects us and becomes part of our reality. It
becomes a goal worth pursuing, something to aspire to and something to use as a
gauge of our achievements. While we are acutely aware that we can’t take it
with us, our value system becomes distorted. This affects our focus and how we
spend our time.

One of the most important aspects of growth is
making the Torah’s values real. Not in theory, not as some remote distant idea,
but rather “getting it,” understanding that every word in the Torah is
true. While we may not feel it now, one day we will. One day, we will
understand that every word of Torah learning is more precious than fine jewels.
One day, we will appreciate that every callous remark we ever made will come
back to haunt us. And one day, we will recognize that every action, deed, and
thought was being videotaped to be played back to us at the end of our days.

The more that we focus on the value system of the
Torah, the more real it becomes to us, and the more motivated we will be by
that which has eternal value and preciousness.

For more on this topic
please listen to Shmuz #26 Lashon Harah- Squandering our
Olam Habbah

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Surviving and Start Living is now in print! “Powerful”, “Thought
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When the Torah introduces the animals that we may and may not eat, it uses the expression “chaya.” Rashi explains this as a play on the word “chay,” meaning, “you should live.” He explains this according to the Medrash Tanchuma:

The Torah forbids us from eating non-kosher foods because we are fit to live for eternity. The nations of the world were created for their place in this world only. Therefore, it isn’t necessary for them to avoid non- kosher foods. But the Jews were created with a soul that will last forever, and so we are warned to avoid such foods.

This can be compared to a doctor who went to visit two critically ill patients. To the first one he gave strict instructions, “This you may eat; this you may not eat.” however to the second patient he said, “You may eat whatever you like.” When questioned on the difference in directives, the doctor responded, “The first patient, while gravely ill, will recover. So it is imperative that he eat wholesome foods that will aid in his healing. The second patient will not survive. There is no point in his watching his diet Let him eat what he enjoys.”

With this moshol, the Medrash explains why the Torah forbids us from eating treif food. Since we were created to last for eternity, we must avoid those foods that will damage us. The nations of the world, in contrast, were only created for this world, so they can eat what they want.

This is difficult to understand. What comparison does eating non-kosher food have to a sick man eating a specific diet? The diet of healthy or non-healthy foods directly affects the health of a person. When a person eats wholesome foods, his body utilizes the nutrients and he gains strength. If he eats unwholesome foods, his body becomes weaker and he loses vitality. This is the way of the world. However, this has nothing to do with the dietary laws that the Torah sets down. The reason we don’t eat treif food is a chok, a law without a reason, much like not wearing shatnez or not eating chometz on Pesach. How can the Medrash use this moshol of the diet of the two patients when it isn’t comparable to the nimshol?

A fundamental understanding of man

The Chovos Ha’levovos (Sha’ar Avodas Elokim 3) explains that HASHEM created man out of two very distinct parts – a nefesh ha’Schili (intellectual soul) and a nefesh ha’bahami (animal soul). Each has its desires and inclinations, and each is competing with the other, vying for primacy over man.

The sechel in man is what drives him to do all that is good and proper. It is the part of him that pulls him closer to HASHEM. It is the force in him that hungers to help others. Everything that is noble, proper and good in man stems from this side.

The Nefesh Ha’bahami on the other hand is comprised of the base instincts necessary for survival. This is a part of man just as it is  in the rest of the animal kingdom. It is made up of hungers, appetites, and desires.

The sechel and behaima are constantly in competition with each other, and each is in a state of flux. Much like a muscle, each becomes stronger with use and atrophies with disuse. The more a person uses his sechel, the stronger and more dominant it becomes. The more he allows his passions and desires to rule, the stronger a hold they have on him. Man is engaged in a constant battle.

In this conflict, the behaima has an unfair advantage. It is in its element, and everything that we do constantly utilizes it and therefore strengthens it. All of man’s daily activities – from working for a living to eating and sleeping – are constantly nourishing the behaima side. Very little that a person does strengthens his sechel. And so by all rights, the behaima side of man should become ever stronger until it vanquishes the sechel.

For that reason, the Torah gave us strict instructions about which actions to engage in and which to avoid, as those actions give an undue strengthening to the behaima side of man.

How treif food functions

Chazal tell us that “treif food deadens the heart.” When a person eats non-kosher food, he ingests that impurity into himself, so his behaima side becomes stronger, and it becomes more difficult for him to relate to anything spiritual. It becomes harder for him to learn, harder for him to daven, harder for him to experience HASHEM.

When Chazal call not eating treif food a chok, that refers to how it functions. Why does milk cooked together with meat give an unfair edge to the behaima side? Why does ingesting blood make a person cruel? To understand how these things function, one must be a scientist of the soul – something that very few individuals in history were able to become. But that it works that way is a given. And for that reason, the Torah forbids us from eating various foods, wearing shatnez, engaging in various physical relations…

This seems to be the answer for this Rashi. The moshol is exact. Since the Jew was given a soul that will last forever, he must be very guarded in what he eats. Impure food will deaden that holy part of him; it will damage his soul. A gentile, on the other hand, was not created with that same purpose, so it doesn’t matter if he eats these types of foods or not.

This concept is very applicable to us in the sense that we often overlook our predisposition for greatness. HASHEM created us with elevated souls, different than any of the other people who occupy this planet. We were created to live forever in an exalted and lofty state. We were given all of the inclinations and aptitudes to reach true greatness. Additionally, HASHEM gave us the greatest guide to spiritual perfection – the Torah. If we learn to follow its ways and appreciate its systems, we journey forward on the greatest mission of man – the road to perfection.

How does eating treif food damage my soul?

For more on this topic please listen to Shmuz #13 Nefesh Ha’Schili- Nefesh Ha’Bahami

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The Role of the Targum

This Targum is difficult to understand. The role of Targum is pshat—straightforward meaning. The
Torah said, “Remember that HASHEM gave you the strength to make this wealth.” But it is far more than advice that HASHEM gives,. HASHEM created the heavens and
the earth. Hashem wrote the laws of physics, chemistry, and biology. HASHEM created and maintains all of physicality — from the constellations down to
cellular functions. Why would the Targumso limit the explanation to this one issue of HASHEM giving advice to acquire merchandise?
The answer to this can be best understood with an example.

A Farmer in the Field

Imagine a simple farmer standing in his field, ready for harvest. Looking out, he sees rows and rows of ripe corn standing
tall, stretching as far as his eye can see. He feels joy in his heart as he revels in the abundance of his bumper crop.
And then he looks out at his neighbor’s field. Meager. Undergrown. Spotty.
The farmer thinks to himself, “Dang fool that boy is. How many times did I tell ‘im – plant corn this year! Not wheat. The rains
came late. The frost was still on the ground in April. Any man worth his salt knows wheat wouldn’t grow no good that way. Corn. Corn. Corn! I says to ‘im. If
only he’d a listened to me…”
And the farmer can’t help but feel a sense of pride. After all, it was his wisdom that led him to choose corn, not like that
fool of a guy next door who planted wheat.
The farmer, as naive as he is, understands that he didn’t bring the rain. It wasn’t his acumen that stopped the pestilence. And it
wasn’t he who made the sun shine bright in the sky, providing the warmth and energy the corn needed. Nevertheless, he feels smug because it was he who made
the wise decision that brought him to where he is.

The One Area Where They Could Have Taken Credit

This seems to be the answer to the Targum. This was the dor deah, the generation that knew HASHEM.
They experienced the splitting of the sea. They lived in the desert surrounded by miracles. They saw HASHEM on a daily basis. And they understood that HASHEM
runs the world. As such, they couldn’t possibly take credit for “growing the corn.” They knew that if their flocks increased, it was HASHEM’s blessing. If
their crops flourished, it was because HASHEM willed it to be.

The one area for which they could take credit was their wisdom. “It was my decision to purchase gold and not wood. I thought
about it and realized that cattle feed would do well. I came to the conclusion that water rights would be valuable.”

The Targum is telling us that this is the only mistake they could have made. Of course, everything is from HASHEM – that was never a question.  Yet they still could become arrogant,
thinking it was their wisdom that brought their success. The posuk says to them, “Remember: those thoughts were brought to you by HASHEM. The reason you made that choice is
because HASHEM guided your thinking.” The Torah is saying: recognize that even ideas are directed by HASHEM.

Seeing HASHEM in Our World

This concept is very relevant to us. As maaminim we recognize that we don’t control market conditions. One worldwide depression and we’re all of out a job.
So that isn’t a test for us. The challenge is the area that seems to in our control. The decisions we make, the choices we opt for. Real estate or oil? Treasury bonds or mutual
funds? Should I buy short? Should I invest in gold now?

The Torah is teaching us that this too is in HASHEM’s control. He guides our thinking, putting thoughts into our minds that
bring us to where we are supposed to be.  It is hard to know why sometimes we have a good feeling about a business opportunity, and sometimes we don’t. It is
difficult to define why certain people find favor in our eyes, and some don’t. Ask a young man going out why one woman catches his fancy and another doesn’t.
Granted some of it is natural attraction, but there is far more going on. Often a more attractive, more presentable girl will not sway him, yet “somehow” the
other one did.

One of the ways that HASHEM runs this world is by putting opinions, ideas, and attitudes into our minds. While we are still free
to listen or not, we are greatly influenced by that input. Identifying this phenomenon and seeing it in action is part of learning to see HASHEM in our world.

The new Shmuz book: Stop Surviving and Start Living is now in print! “Powerful”, “Thought
Provoking”, “Life changing”, is what people are saying about it.  Copies are now available in stores, or at www.TheShmuz.com, or by calling
866-613-TORAH (8672).

For more on this topic please listen to Shmuz #51 -  Bitachon and Hishtadlus – Finding the Balance

After months and months of rebellion, Pharaoh finally admitted that he was wrong. The Dos Zakainim explains that the makkah
of barad moved Pharaoh more than any other. And it was because of one factor: Moshe had warned him that the hail
would kill anything living. Again and again, Moshe cautioned Pharaoh to take his livestock and his slaves inside. Because Pharaoh was repeatedly warned to
save the living creatures, he was moved and recognized his error.

This Dos Zakainim is difficult to understand. Why would this detail cause Pharaoh to admit that HASHEM was
right? He witnessed the greatest revelation of HASHEM’s mastery of nature—and it didn’t move him. He watched as Mitzrayim, the superpower of its time, was
brought to its knees. That didn’t move him. Why should this single factor have such an effect?

Why did this move Pharaoh?

This question is best answered with a moshol.

The Nature of the Human

Henry Ford, while a brilliant businessman, was not known for his kindliness. In fact, he
used to brag that he never did anything for anyone.  The story is told that while he was going for
a walk in the fields with a friend, they heard yelps coming from a nearby property.
A dog had gotten caught in a barbed wire fence and couldn’t get out. Ford
walked over to the fence, gently pulled on the wire, and freed the dog. When he
returned to the road, his friend said to him,  “I thought you were the guy who never did anything for anyone.”
Henry Ford responded, “That was for me. The dog’s cries were hurting me.”

This story is compelling because Ford
didn’t care about anyone but himself. He didn’t choose to be kind. He didn’t want
to feel the pain of others. In fact, he tried his best to squelch this
sensitivity. But it was still there. He couldn’t stop himself.  He was pre-programmed to have mercy. In his
inner makeup, there was that voice that said, “Henry, the poor animal is in
pain. Go do something!” Even though he prided himself on selfishness, he
couldn’t quell that voice inside. It bothered him to hear a creature in pain.
When he heard those cries, they reached down to his inner core, to that part of
the human that only wants to do good, proper and noble things. That part was
touched. It saw an animal in pain and said, “Don’t just stand there, Henry. Do
something. That poor animal is suffering.”

Let Us Make Man

This is illustrative of the basic components of the human. When Hashem created man, He
joined together two diverse elements to form his soul. These are his spiritual soul, what we call his nishamah,
and his animal soul, which is comprised of all of the drives and inclinations needed to keep him alive. The conscious “I” that thinks and
feels is made up of both parts.

The nishamah comes from under the throne of Hashem’s glory. It is pure and holy and only
wishes for that which is good, proper and noble. Because it comes from the upper worlds, it derives no benefit from this world and can’t relate to any of its
pleasures. The other part of man’s soul is very different. It is exactly like that of an animal, with all of the passions and desires necessary to drive man
though his daily existence.

We humans are this contradictory combination. Within me is an animal soul made up of pure
desires and appetites, and within me is a holy nishamah that only wishes to do that which is right and proper. The animal soul only knows its needs and
exists to fulfill them. The nishamah is magnanimous and only wishes to give. These two total opposites are forged together to create the whole we know
as the human.

Touching the Soul

This seems to be the answer to the Dos Zakainim. Pharaoh was a human being,
and as all humans, he had a sublime side to him. He may have spent years ignoring and pushing it down, but it remained within him. What he experienced during
the plague of hail was pure chessed. His enemy was concerned for his good. There was nothing that HASHEM had to gain
by protecting the cattle and the slaves of the Egyptians. The only motivation was generosity, goodness, and a pure concern for others. Seeing this warmed
even the callous heart of Pharaoh. He recognized this wasn’t driven by lowly motives. He understood that he was dealing with something outside of the realm of normal
human interests. He saw HASHEM.

Being like HASHEM

This also helps us understand one of the great ironies of life.

The selfish person is focused on his needs and his wants. The generous person is concerned about the welfare of
others—even at the cost of his own needs. We would assume that the selfish person would happy. After all, he is singly focused on what’s good for him. But
the generous person has the good of others on his mind—surely he can’t be as happy.  He has to worry about the good of others.

Yet, just the opposite is true. The more a person is focused on others’ needs, the happier he is. The more he focuses on his own needs and wants, the unhappier he will be.

When man develops the trait of giving, he achieves inner peace, balance, and harmony. When he ignores it, he suffers.
His sense of self becomes fragmented.  One part of him is demanding, “What’s in it for me?” and the other side is crying
out, “What have I done for others?” The more a person develops the nature of giving, the more he becomes like HASHEM, and the holier he becomes.

This why kindliness is so basic to being a Torah observant Jew. If it could be, HASHEM is all-giving, kindness,
and mercy. Many mitzvahs train us in these traits because this is the greatest elevation of the human—to be as much
like HASHEM as humanly possible.  While it takes focus and attention to bring out the higher part of our personality,
it is ingrained in our soul and so it comes naturally to us.

For more on this topic please listen to Shmuz # -  Chessed the Basis of Serving HASHEM

The new Shmuz book: Stop surviving and Start Living is now in print! “Powerful”, “Thought
Provoking”, “Life changing”, is what people are saying about it.  Copies are now available in stores, or at www.TheShmuz.com, or by calling
866-613-TORAH (8672).

One of the daily activities in the Mishkan was taking out the ashes. The Chovos Ha’Levavos explains that HASHEM commanded Aaron to do this action each day “to lower himself and rid himself of the arrogance in his heart.”

This statement seems to imply that Aaron was arrogant, and that HASHEM felt he needed specific work to get rid of that sense of superiority. The problem with this is that it is difficult to imagine that Aaron Ha’Kohain was a haughty individual. This concept becomes even more problematic when we focus on the Torah’s description of Aaron.
A man of sterling character traits
When HASHEM appeared to Moshe and said, “I want you to lead the Jewish people out of Mitzrayim,” Moshe refused. He was afraid that Aaron would feel slighted. Up until that point, Aaron had been the leader of the nation, the one who brought the word of HASHEM to the people. Now his younger brother, unheard of for sixty years, would usurp that position. As great as Aaron was, Moshe knew that he was still human and would feel the pain of being displaced. Therefore, Moshe wanted no part of it.

HASHEM explained to Moshe that while this might be a well-founded fear in regards to the average person, because of Aaron’s great spiritual stature, he was above jealousy and competition, and this wouldn’t cause him any pain. He had so eliminated bad character traits from his heart that he would feel nothing negative. In fact, when Moshe assumed this position and Aaron set out to meet him, the posuk says, “It was with joy in his heart.”

HASHEM was telling Moshe was that Aaron was in a different category of people. He had mastered his nature. He was like a moloch in human form.

Of all men, Aaron wouldn’t be haughty and overbearing. So why did HASHEM feel that it was necessary for him to take out the ashes each day to eliminate arrogance from his heart?

The answer to this question is based on understanding the underpinnings of our relationship with HASHEM.

A servant needs a master and a master needs a servant
The Chovos Ha’Levavos (Shaar Ha’chnah) explains a basic truism: a servant needs a master, and a master needs a servant. By definition, a servant can’t be a servant without a master, and a master can’t be a master without a servant. They are mutually dependent. With that, he explains the danger of arrogance. The arrogant person feels powerful, mighty, and independent. These are not the traits that one finds in a servant; quite the opposite, these are the traits of superiors, people who rule. These are the traits of the master. For that reason, the arrogant person can’t be a servant of HASHEM.

HASHEM alone has the right to wear the trait of Ga’avah. He alone is mighty, He alone is powerful, and He alone is independent. Anyone else who harbors these thoughts in his heart is “wearing the King’s robes.” He views himself in a manner that is false and delusional. More significantly, in that state, he cannot serve HASHEM. “How can a person as mighty, significant, and important as I possibly have a master? I am the master!” For this reason, arrogance utterly skews the relationship of man to his Creator. Its opposite, humility, is central to all Avodas HASHEM.

This seems to be the answer to the question. In no sense was Aaron haughty or overbearing; he was amongst the most modest of men. The problem was that his role required even more. As the representative of the nation, he was going into the Holiest of the Holies; any imperfection in his intentions would have spelled an imperfect avodah, so he needed to be perfect in his humility. To attain that state, he needed a physical exercise. He had to, so to speak, take out the garbage each day. By doing this, any trace of independence was eliminated from his heart, and he was able to reach that most elusive understanding: I am utterly, completely, and totally dependent upon HASHEM. I am the creation, and He is my Creator. As great as Aaron was, he still needed improvement in this area, and it was only through concrete, physical actions that he could reach a state of true humility.
Humility is the core of being an Eved HASHEM
This concept is very applicable in our lives. All of our avodas HASHEM hinges upon accepting HASHEM as our Master. While we may not be haughty, unless we have worked on acquiring humility, there will be trace elements of arrogance in our hearts, and these will greatly impede our being subservient to HASHEM. They stop us from standing as servants in front of our Master.

The only way to achieve true humility is by being exposed to life situations that allow us to grow in humility. By being subjected to the various situations in life, where we come to recognize that we are not mighty, powerful, and independent, the reality starts to seep in. I am a mere mortal. Here for a few short years, unable to even control my own existence, I am but a creation dependent upon my Master for my very existence.

To help us grow, HASHEM will often custom-tailor situations for us. Not every circumstance in life is pleasant, and not every condition is something would we wish for. Some situations may be demeaning. It may feel like you are being asked to take out the garbage. You might even feel indignant. “HASHEM why are You subjecting me to this? What have I done wrong to deserve this?” The answer may well be nothing. It wasn’t something wrong that you did that brought this about. Rather, it was something you did right, some merit that you have that allowed you to have this opportunity to acquire that rare commodity – humility.

Recognizing our need for situations that bring us to a sense of dependence upon HASHEM can help us understand life, and then we can use these situations to grow and to accomplish our purpose in Creation.

For more on this topic please listen to Shmuz # 59- Humility: an issue of Perspective

The new Shmuz book: Stop Surviving and Start Living is now in print! “Powerful”, “Thought Provoking”, “Life changing”, is what people are saying about it. Copies are now available in stores, or at www.TheShmuz.com, or by calling 866-613-TORAH (8672).

Great affront to the Mitzrim

After months of witnessing HASHEM’s mastery over nature, the Jewish people were commanded to commit the ultimate affront to the Mitzrim: to take their very god, tie it to the bedpost, and prepare it to be slaughtered on the 14^th of Nissan. They were then to take the blood of the korbon and smear it on their doorposts as a sign to protect them. Additionally, they were told that since all first-born Mitzrim were to be killed, no Jew should leave his house that night. Rashi explains that even though blood on the doorpost was a sign that that house belonged to a Jew, if a Jew were to walk in the street, he would be in danger. “Once permission is given to the destroyer to destroy, he doesn’t distinguish between innocent and guilty.”

Where is the justice?

It seems that Rashi is saying that had a Jew remained in his house that evening, he would not have been killed, and had he left his house, he might die – not because he was guilty of any sin, not because he deserved to die, but because once the destroyer is given permission to kill, anyone in his path is in danger.

Where is the justice if the

tzaddik is killed just like the rasha?

This Rashi is quite difficult to understand. If someone is innocent, then how is it possible that he would die? The basis of our entire belief system is that there is no power in this world other than HASHEM. We accept that all decisions are directly guided and carried out by Him alone. So how is it possible that someone undeserving of death would have been killed anyway, just for going outside that evening? Where is the justice?

Immutable laws of nature

The answer to this question is based on the way that Chazal understand the system of Creation. HASHEM formed this world with definite and distinct laws: heat tends to rise, gases tend to expand, and heavy objects tend to fall. These laws are the bedrock foundation for all of physicality. Just as HASHEM created laws for the physical world, so too, He created laws for the spiritual world. These are specific and exact, and carry throughout Creation.

Before HASHEM created the world, He thought (if it could be) to create it with the middas ha’din – strict justice. However, the world couldn’t exist if it operated according to this system, so HASHEM created the world using the middas ha’rachamim – the system of mercy. The operating principle then became compassion. The way that actions were weighed and people were judged was now with a different scale and measuring rod. However, since HASHEM acts with complete honesty, justice cannot be ignored. It is mitigated and guided by kindness, but it still demands its due.

The Mesillos Yesharim explains that pure middas ha’din would demand instant punishment for a sin. After all, in this world, you are a creation, a visitor in the King’s land, created by and supported by Him. The King gave you laws for your good, and if you have the audacity to violate the express command of the King, even a slight transgression should be immediately punishable by death. The middah of mercy allows for a different way of judging an act: a sinner is given time to repent, the punishment isn’t as severe, and there is a system of tshuvah – of somehow undoing the sin itself.

However, din cannot be ignored, and there are times and situations where it comes into full force. For reasons that we humans will likely never understand, HASHEM runs this world in cycles and time settings. There are times of greater leniency, and times that demand more scrutiny in judgment. We are advised to daven on Yom Kippur with extra fervor because it is a time of greater rachamim. The same amount of regret and tshuvah on our part will accomplish more. The middah of rachamim is in greater force.

Times of strict judgment

This seems to be the answer to the question on Rashi. When HASHEM was taking retribution on the firstborns of Mitzrayim, justice was being served, and so there was a global shift in the middah in operation. Din went into effect. As such, it was a very dangerous time. Now man – any man – would be judged with the system of din, and very few individuals would be able to pass as innocent. Therefore, the Klal Yisroel were warned, “Do not go out from your home.” The destructive angel was given permission to act in a manner different than under normal circumstances. A person who might be innocent under the normal mercy system would now be found guilty and might warrant death. Because of that, the Jews were advised to avoid the situation.

Understanding the middah of din

This concept has great applications to our lives. In many situations, we are tempted to ask questions on HASHEM. “It’s not fair! Why should that person suffer? Why do bad things happen to good people?” Yet when we focus on what man is capable of accomplishing, we understand that there are very few individuals who truly live up to their potential. If the middah of din were exacted, there would be few who would escape unscathed. So, there are no issues of “it’s not fair.” The only question is why in one case it seems that din is in operation more than in another. And because there are so many factors that affect the balance, we humans may never know the answer to these global questions. However, the question of HASHEM’s “cruelty” never applies.

Using the middah of mercy

Even more, these concepts affect our relationship to HASHEM. When we understand what strict din is, we understand that our very existence is dependent upon mercy. We can then tap into one of the most powerful forces in Creation. Even a slight change in the amount of mercy HASHEM uses in judging me can have a fantastic difference in the outcome. The question I have to ask is: how do I awaken the middah of mercy?

One of the keys is to utilize the power of tefillah, to ask HASHEM for help – not based on my merit or anything that I have done, but out of sheer mercy. Another method is to act toward other people with mercy. Chazal tell us that the way that a person is judged mirrors the way he judges others. Since he established the criteria, that itself is justice, and in Heaven that is the scale they use.

Understanding these ideas greatly impacts the way that we approach others and the way we approach life itself.

For more on this topic please listen to Shmuz #163 Only the Good Die Young

The new Shmuz book: Stop Surviving and Start Living is now in print! “Powerful”, “Thought Provoking”, “Life changing”, is what people are saying about it.  Copies are now available in stores, or at www.TheShmuz.com, or by calling 866-613-TORAH (8672).

“He made the wash basin of copper and it base of copper,
from the mirrors of the women who gathered at the entrance to the Ohel Moed.”
— Shemos 38:8
The mirrors are the most precious of gifts

The Torah specifies that the wash basin in the Mishkan
was made of copper taken from the mirrors that the women brought as donations.
Rashi explains that by telling us where the copper came from the Torah
is teaching a significant lesson.

Moshe Rabbeinu was appalled by the idea of
using the mirrors in the Mishkan because they were used to enhance a
woman’s beauty, which is a source of yetzer ha’rah. Yet HASHEM said that
not only should they be used, they were the most precious of all the items that
were donated. In fact, the very reason HASHEM wanted them to be used in the Mishkan
was that the women used them to beautify themselves and attract their husbands.

How could Moshe Rabbeinu have been so mistaken?

This Rashi leaves us to wonder: how could
Moshe Rabbeinu have been so mistaken? Chazal tell us he was the greatest human
who ever existed. For forty days, he lived like a moloch – without food,
drink, or sleep – and he learned the entire Torah. Yet he looked at these
mirrors with disgust until HASHEM told him that they were actually the most
precious gift given. How is it possible that Moshe was so off in his
understanding?

Boys and girls are different

The answer to this question can be found by
watching little children at play in the local public schoolyard. The girls will
be off on one side playing jump rope or hopscotch while the boys will be off to
the other side playing tag or touch football. Even though the classes are
mixed, it is rare to find boys and girls together in play.

The reason for this is that boys and girls are
different. They have different interests, desires, and value systems. They are
different in the way that they behave, relate to each other, and communicate.
In fact, boys and girls are so different that you would almost assume they come
from different cultures, maybe even different planets. It isn’t that they are
socialized or trained differently; it is that their inner makeup is
fundamentally different.

As an example, studies show that when asked “Who
is your best friend?,” three-year-old boys are as likely to name a girl as they
are a boy. At that age, mixed gender friendships are quite common. Yet by the
time this same group of children is five years old, only 20% will have a best
friend from the opposite gender. By the time that they are seven, it is almost
nonexistent for a boy to have a best friend who is girl, or for a girl to have
a best friend who is a boy – because by then they have almost nothing in
common.

This separation and disinterest continues until
puberty when something remarkable happens: the boys become very interested in
the girls, and the girls become very interested in the boys. It isn’t that
their differences have disappeared. Quite the opposite, they are even stronger
now, but there are powerful forces developing within them that pull them to
each other – attraction and infatuation.

Why did HASHEM create this state of infatuation?

HASHEM created these entities so that man and woman
could marry. If it weren’t for these forces, a successful marriage would never
exist. To ask two individuals, vastly different in nature, outlook, and
temperament to live as one would never happen – it would be impossible.

To allow man and woman to create a successful
union, HASHEM put various forces into the person, and attraction and
infatuation are two of them. They are very powerful, so powerful that they can
pull together opposites and bring them together in harmony, peace, and love.
However, as powerful tools, they can also easily be misdirected and misused.

Answer to Moshe Rabbeinu

The answer to the question on Moshe Rabbeinu seems to be
that he was fully aware of the powerful force of attraction and the pull that
it exerts. What he wasn’t aware of was the purity of the women who donated the
mirrors. HASHEM told him that these women were different. They used their
beauty only for its intended purpose – to attract their husbands. These mirrors
had become holy as they had been used to strengthen the bond of love and
devotion between husband and wife. The children brought forth from such a union
were pure and exalted; therefore, these mirrors were the most precious of all
the donations.

Lack of understanding in our times

This concept has great relevance in our times. We
live in an age when the very social fabric of society seems to be tearing apart
at the seams. With divorce rates in the Western world hovering at 50%, the
concept of raising children in a stable home seems to be a relic of the past.

One of the causes of this breakdown is the misuse
of the very system that HASHEM put into man to allow him to flourish.
Attraction and infatuation are tools that, when used properly, allow a husband
and wife to achieve harmony, tranquility, and peace. However, when misused,
these forces no longer accomplish their intended purpose, and the couple
suffers — never quite understanding why their marriage doesn’t work anymore.

Understanding the purpose and proper use of these
forces that HASHEM created is one of the keys to living a successful life.

For more on this topic
please listen to Shmuz #99 – Men are from Mars

The new Shmuz on Life book: Stop
Surviving and Start Living is now in print! It is a powerful, inspiring
work that deals with major life issues. Copies are available in sefarim stores,
or at www.TheShmuz.com, or by calling
866-613-TORAH (8672).

When Moshe Rabbenu comes down from Har Sinai

When Moshe Rabbeinu came down from Har Sinai, he
found a very different scene than the one he left forty days earlier. A segment
of the Jewish nation, in rebellion against HASHEM, had formed a golden calf and
was worshiping it. The rest of the nation stood by and didn’t protest. In
context, this was such an egregious act that HASHEM threatened to destroy the
entire nation.

Rashi explains that during the process of asking for
forgiveness, Moshe Rabbeinu said to HASHEM, “You caused this. You
gave the Jewish people gold and silver; they left Mitzraim with great riches.
Isn’t it obvious that they would come to sin?”

What possible use would the

Klal Yisroel have for money in the desert?

This Rashi seems difficult to understand when we focus on
who these people were and where this was taking place.

The Klal Yisroel was living in the desert. They
neither worked for a living nor had any use for money. All of their needs were
taken care of. They ateMon that was delivered to their tents daily. They
drank water from the Be’er, the rock that followed them in their
journeys. Their clothes were washed by the Clouds of Glory, and their
shoes never wore out. They didn’t need money and couldn’t use it. How could it
become their downfall?

The real danger of wealth

The answer to this question is based on understanding why
the Misilas Yesharim calls wealth one of the great tests of man

Materialism and self-indulgence are the risks of affluence,
but an even greater danger is that wealth can lead a person to view himself as different
than everyone else. “There are regular people, but I am different because I am
rich. The world is full of people, but I am in a different category. I am a rich
man.”

With this also comes a sense of self-sufficiency and
arrogance. “I am a wealthy man, so I don’t need anyone. I don’t need my
children. I don’t need my wife. In fact… I am so wealthy that I don’t really
need HASHEM.”

The danger of wealth is the sense of being a rich man

This seems to be the answer to this Rashi. Granted the
Jewish people living in the desert needed nothing and could do nothing with
their money, but the real risk of wealth is the sense of superiority that comes
along with it. In their minds, they were now rich. As rich men, they were
significant, important, too big to be dependent upon anyone, and this feeling
was the root cause of their rebellion against HASHEM.

Who were these people?

This concept becomes a tremendous chiddush when we take into
account that these individuals were on a higher level than any other generation
in the history of mankind. They had been slaves in Mitzraim and were
freed. They had lived through the entire process of the Maakos and
splitting of the Yam Suf. They watched as HASHEM showed total dominion
over every facet of nature.

But more than all of this, they had only recently stood at
the foot of Har Sinai when HASHEM opened up the heavens and the earth
and revealed the greatest secrets of Creation. They had seen and experienced
HASHEM more clearly than did the greatest Naviim, which tells us that
they knew exactly why they were created and how passing and insignificant is a
person’s station in this world. And yet Moshe Rabbeinu compared their
being wealthy to such a difficult test that it would be like putting a young
man on the doorstep of sin.

This is highly illustrative of the inner workings of the
human. HASHEM created deep within our hearts many needs and desires. One of
these is the need for honor and prestige. The drive for Kavod is one of
the strongest forces in man. Often we are unaware of its existence until a
given situation brings it to the fore.

While the Klal Yisroel were then living in the
ultimate Kollel community, money still had value to them – not in what it could
buy, but in its more alluring sense, in the associated feeling of power and
importance that it brought. They were now rich people, and that sense is
so dangerous that it can destroy even the greatest of men. For that reason,
Moshe said to HASHEM, “You caused this. The gold and the silver that You gave
them brought them to sin.”

Living in our age

This concept has particular relevance in our day and age.
Never in the history of mankind have so many enjoyed such wealth. On some
level, each of us has the opportunity of “one day being rich.”

As with many life situations, prosperity can be either a
blessing or a curse. If a person changes because he is now a rich man,
he needs more, he feels that he deserves only the best, and he won’t be
satisfied with what everyone else gets by with. That sense of superiority
will turn him against his Creator, and the very wealth that he acquired will be
the source of his ruin. For eternity, he will regret having been given that
test – which he failed.

However, if a person remains aware that he was granted
wealth for a purpose – that he is not the owner of it, but rather its
custodian, duly charged with its proper use – then he can use it as a tool to
help him accomplish his purpose in existence. His wealth will then be a true
bracha that he enjoys in this world, and for eternity, he will enjoy that which
he accomplished with it.

The new Shmuz book: Stop
Surviving and Start Living is now in print! “Powerful”, “Thought
Provoking”, “Life changing”, is what people are saying about it.  Pre release copies are now available at www.TheShmuz.com, or by calling
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“You shall place both stones on the shoulder straps of the ephod, remembrance stones for the Children of Israel.”  Shemos 28:12

Moshe was commanded to make garments for the Kohanim

Moshe was commanded to make garments for the Kohanim. Included in these was the ephod, a piece of clothing similar to an apron, with two shoulder straps on top holding the avnei shoham, gold settings that contained precious stones. HASHEM told Moshe to engrave the names of the twelve shvatim (tribes) onto these stones as a remembrance. Rashi explains that this was so that the memory of Reuvain, Shimon, Levi, etc. would be invoked when the Kohain Gadol did the avodah, and HASHEM would then remember their righteousness.

The shvatim sinned

This Rashi seems to be difficult to understand. The avodah (service) of the Kohain Gadol is vital and highly sensitive; the world’s very existence depends upon it. As a result, there are many items that are avoided in the avodah so as not to bring up even the faintest memories of sin. While there is no question that the shvatim were men of extraordinary greatness, that greatness was also tainted with the sin of selling their brother. Didn’t that sin permanently affect who they were? Shouldn’t that be reason enough not to mention their names in such a critical situation?

Every diamond has a flaw

The answer to this is based on an issue of perspective.

Weren’t the shvatim tainted

by the sin of selling Yosef ?

Imagine that there are two large diamonds in front of you, one a beautifully cut jewel with a minor flaw, and the other the same as the first, but flawless – a perfect diamond.  If we were to ask a diamond expert to appraise the two, there is no doubt that he would tell us that the difference between them is huge. He would say that the diamond with the minor flaw is worth a fortune while the completely flawless diamond is almost worthless — because it is a fake. One of the signs that a diamond is real is that it has a flaw. While it may be a very minor imperfection and almost unnoticeable, all genuine diamonds have flaws. The only perfect diamonds are made of cubic zirconium, and are costume jewelry.

HASHEM created the human, knowing he would sin

When HASHEM formed man, it was not for him to be perfect. Perfection rests in the realm of the Molochim (angels). A moloch will spend its entire existence without sin. Molochim are perfect. But molochim aren’t man. Man and man alone was given the unique opportunity in all of Creation: to determine his destiny, either becoming the greatest of all, or sinking below the animals.

To allow man to create who he would be for eternity, HASHEM gave him free will. However, free will doesn’t mean the theoretical ability to choose; it means being put into situations where either choice is viable and either option is real. Man has to be challenged. To allow for that, man has to be tempted to choose either good or bad and be given the ability to make mistakes. Every man has, and every man will make mistakes. Some are large, and some are small, but the idea of man living without sin isn’t part of the picture.

The shvatim were like flawed diamonds

The answer to the question on Rashi seems to be that the shvatim were in fact men of unimaginable greatness, but they also had flaws and sinned. Each would be compared to a 200-carat diamond – with an imperfection. They were huge, beautiful diamonds, with flaws.

When viewing a diamond, you don’t see the flaw. To perceive it, you need to look through a jeweler’s loop that magnifies the stone by a power of ten times or more. Only via direct scrutiny does the flaw become noticeable. It is always present, but the eye doesn’t see it. All the eye sees is glimmer and reflected light in an object of extreme beauty.

What will I be like in Olam Habbah?

This concept has great relevance to us. People often wonder, “What will it be like for me in the World to Come? I’ve done many good things in my life, but I’m no tzaddik. I’ve also done plenty wrong, and I can’t even say that I did teshuvah for everything.”

“For eternity, I will be exactly what I made myself into. So what kind of Olam Habbah am I going to have? Forever I will walk around with my faults permanently part of me. How will I ever enjoy eternity when I am sullied – permanently stained?”

I will be like a diamond with a flaw

This Chazal tells us that our imperfections are what they are, and unless we remove them with the process of teshuvah, they will be on our permanent record. However, all that means is that I will have flaws, like a diamond. Maybe I’ll be a two-carat diamond, maybe a four-carat – but a precious gem nonetheless. While the blemishes will be there, so too will the shining brilliance of a jewel. One doesn’t cancel out the other. The flaw isn’t eliminated, nor is the brilliance eradicated. Both are there. I will be a diamond with a flaw.

My work now, as long as I have time left, is to improve the quality of the diamond and to eliminate its faults. By learning Torah, doing mitzvahs, and working on my middos, I change the weight, color, and clarity of the stone. Who I will be for eternity is in my hands. If I focus my attention and energies on growth, my reward will be perfection more valuable than the finest diamonds ever mined.

For more on this topic please listen to Shmuz #16 –  Olam Habbah as a Motivator

The new Shmuz on Life book: Stop Surviving and Start Living is now in print! It is a powerful, inspiring work that deals with major life issues. Copies are available in sefarim stores, or at www.TheShmuz.com, or by calling 866-613-TORAH (8672).

Moshe Rabbeinu was charged with the construction of the Mishkan, the dwelling place of HASHEM in this world. While the components of the structure are physically complex, the kavannas — the specific intentions required during the process of building it — are even more intricate.

Why did Moshe need to see an image of the menorah if it was going to be formed by the fire?

The most complicated of all of the vessels was the menorah. Its design was so elaborate that even after HASHEM taught Moshe how it was to be built, Moshe still didn’t understand its unique nature and was unable to form it. Therefore, HASHEM showed Moshe an image of a menorah made of fire so that Moshe could actually see the finished form and imitate it.

Yet Rashi tells us that when it came time for the construction of the menorah, Moshe still could not fathom its structure and was unable to fabricate it. HASHEM said, “Throw the clump of gold into the fire, and it will form by itself.” This is how the menorah was created — on its own.

This Rashi is perplexing. Since the menorah was so intricate that Moshe could not understand its inner nature and how to form it, then why did HASHEM bother to show him the image of the menorah in fire? HASHEM knew that Moshe wasn’t going to be able to create the menorah himself. He knew that in the end it would have to come about by Moshe’s throwing the clump of gold into the fire. Why did HASHEM show Moshe the image of the menorah so that he should understand how it was to be formed? Clearly, creating the menorah was beyond human capacity. Why did Moshe need to have a clear image of what it was to look like?

Balance of bitachon and hishtadlus

The answer to this question is predicated on understanding the balance between HASHEM’s involvement in the running of the world and man’s obligation to put in his effort — the balance between bitachon and hishtadlus.

One of the basic facts of life is that HASHEM runs this world. While it may appear that man is in charge, HASHEM orchestrates every activity on the planet. The question is: what is man’s part? If HASHEM determines all outcomes, how is man supposed to act? What is his role?

How much effort should I put in?

The Chovos Ha’Levovos teaches us that we are obligated to act b’derech hatevah – in the ways of the world. In other words, we are obligated to go through the motions as if the results are dependent upon us, knowing all the while that the outcome is completely out of our hands.

We work for a living, knowing that the amount of money we are to make has been set on Rosh Hashanah. We go to doctors when we are sick, even though we know that our health is determined solely by HASHEM. We put in our effort, knowing all the while that it is HASHEM’s world and that He alone determines the outcome.

Amazingly, whenever we accomplish something in this world, the results are credited to us even though we are fully aware that HASHEM was One Who did it all. We merely went through the motions. When we use that system, it is considered as if we did the action.

Answer: Why Moshe needed to see the image of the menorah

This seems to be the answer to the question on Rashi. HASHEM wanted the Mishkan and its vessels to be constructed by man. However, it was impossible for man to make them. Even the greatest of men couldn’t comprehend how to make a menorah. So his effort was to do all that he could and then rely on HASHEM for the rest. Moshe would put the gold into the fire, and the menorah would form on its own. Moshe used the system that HASHEM created to bring forth the menorah.

However, for the creation of the menorah to be credited to man, Moshe had to at least have a vision of what it was that he was creating. Once he had that concept in mind, throwing the clump of gold into the fire was considered as if he made the menorah himself. It was then considered as if he used HASHEM’s system to bring about this result. If Moshe didn’t have a clear vision of what it was that he was creating, then in no sense could it be considered something he made — it would have been the fire that made it. Once he knew what it was that he was setting out to make, he then harnessed a force that HASHEM created to bring about that result. In this case, the force was the fire bringing about the menorah.

Bitachon in our lives

This concept has great relevance to us as there are many situations in which we reach a point where there is no clear path to follow. Whether it be deciding from two almost identical career choices, determining which medical “expert” to listen to, or deciding which school to enroll our children in, we are obligated to be responsible, use our best judgment, and determine according to the ways of the world what is the best approach. Once we have reached that point, we “throw our clump of gold into the fire.” We rely on HASHEM to bring about the results that He has predetermined to be the best for us.

For more on this topic please listen to Shmuz #51 – Bitachon and Hishtadlus – Finding the Balance

The new Shmuz on Life book: Stop Surviving and Start Living is now in print! It is a powerful, inspiring work that deals with major life issues. Copies are available in sefarim stores, or at www.TheShmuz.com, or by calling 866-613-TORAH (8672).

The Dos Zakainim teaches
us that “before them” means before the Jews and not before the gentiles.
The Torah is for the Jewish people exclusively.

He then brings an example
of this concept. On the inside of almost every Chumash is the Targum written by
Onkolus. While Onkolus became a profound talmid chacham, that wasn’t his
beginning. He was a gentile, the nephew of the Caesar Adrianna. He became aware
of the truth and desired to convert to Judaism, but he was afraid of his
uncle’s reaction.

He approached his uncle
and said, “I wish to engage in commerce.”

His uncle responded, “If
you need money, my treasure house is open to you. Take whatever you need.”

Onkolus responded, “It
isn’t money that I seek; it is knowledge. I wish to go out to discover the ways
of the world. Please, my uncle, give me advice. Which type of merchandise do you
recommend that I invest in?”

Adrianna responded, “Find
a commodity that is depressed in value. The ways of the world are cyclic. What
is low now will rise later, and you will ride the crest upwards and find your
fortune.”

With that, Onkolus left
to Israel and approached the Chachamim, seeking to learn Torah. They told him,
“The Torah cannot be absorbed by one who isn’t Jewish.” He converted, went to
yeshiva to learn, and became a Torah scholar.

After he returned home,
his uncle noticed that his appearance had changed. “Why do you look different?”
he asked.

Onkolus responded,
“Because I converted and have learned Torah.”

“Upon whose advice did
you do this?”

“Yours, my uncle. Didn’t
you tell me to invest in merchandise which is currently depressed because
surely it will rise? I searched and found no nation as downtrodden as the Jews.
Yet in the World to Come, there is no people that will be as exalted.”

His uncle was so
impressed with this line of reasoning that he promptly smacked him across the face.
“You could have learned Torah without converting!” he exclaimed.

Onkolus responded, “Torah
cannot be learned by one who doesn’t have a Bris Milah.”

Understanding the implications

While this is a beautiful story, when we take into
account two points, a powerful question emerges.

Why couldn’t
Unkolus

learn Torah
without a

Bris Milah?

1. We are dealing with a man who is clearly
brilliant. Once he converted, he became such a master of the Torah that he was
able to distill all of its wisdom into a concise Targum that has become
universally accepted throughout the generations. Obviously, he was of
extraordinary intelligence.

2. We are dealing with an extremely motivated
individual. He was living in the lap of luxury, enjoying great power and
prestige, and had the entire world open to him. He was a favored nephew of the
most powerful emperor of his time. When he approached his uncle for help, his
immediate response was, “My treasure house is open to you.” In simple terms, he
had everything that a young man could dream of. Yet he was willing to give it
all up, at risk of his position and maybe even his life, to go to a foreign
land to learn Torah. Clearly he was a driven individual.

With
all this, why couldn’t he learn Torah without converting? The Chachamim
didn’t say to him, “You aren’t allowed to learn.” They didn’t tell him that the
halacha prohibits a gentile from studying Torah. They said it
won’t work. The question is, why not? Here we have a man who was so
brilliant and dedicated that he was willing to give up everything to learn. Why
would he be incapable of learning Torah if he wasn’t Jewish?

The nature of Torah

The answer to this lies in
understanding the nature of Torah.

The Torah is pure wisdom
from HASHEM. A Rashi on Chumash can be understood by an eight-year-old child.
Yet that same Rashi contains worlds of depth and opens up to understandings
that are infinite. The ability to delve into the depth of Torah is specifically
what a gentile can’t do. A gentile can study geometry, physics, or business
law. Those studies are accessible to the mind of man. The Torah is different.
It is the “word of HASHEM” and cannot be perceived by man.

However, HASHEM created
the Jew with a Nishamah uniquely suited to learn Torah. Different than
all of the nations of the world, the Jew alone has the ability to access the
Torah, to be able to plumb it depths, and to reach the Divine wisdom contained
in it. But more than simply the ability to learn Torah, we were given a
tremendous receptivity to it.

Torah comes naturally to the Jew

This seems to be the
answer to the question. As wise and as motivated as Onkolus was, had he
remained a gentile, he could never have mastered the Torah. Torah is the
exclusive heritage of the Jew. Only we have the right to it, but even more,
only we have the inborn capacity to understand it and master it.

This concept is very
relevant to us because the Torah contains all the wisdom of the world. There
may be times when we feel overwhelmed by the challenge. But the understanding that
the Torah is our exclusive heritage and that we are uniquely suited to learn it
should be a motivating force to help us set goals of mastering our portion in
Torah.

We have a natural
affinity for learning Torah; while we may have to strain our minds and exert
ourselves, we are naturally suited to it, so it settles into our soul easily.
We are like a musically gifted child sitting down to play the violin – it is in
our blood.

For more on this topic
please listen to Shmuz #119 Bris Milah – Sign of a Holy
People

The new Shmuz on Life book: Stop
Surviving and Start Living is now in print! It is a powerful, inspiring
work that deals with major life issues. Copies are available in sefarim stores,
or at www.TheShmuz.com, or by calling
866-613-TORAH (8672).

With these words, the
Torah explains what motivated Yisro to join the Jewish people. He heard all of
the great miracles that HASHEM did: the ten Makkos, the splitting of the
sea… all done for Moshe and Yisrael.

Rashi makes an
observation on this posuk. The Torah seems to equate Moshe to the entire Jewish
people, with the words “that which HASHEM did for Moshe and Yisrael.”
This implies that all of the stupendous events of Yitzias Mitzraim had
been brought for these two equals: Moshe and the entire Jewish nation.

Rashi explains that not
only is this correct, it is what the Torah is teaching us. Moshe really was the
equivalent to the entire nation. The Torah said “that which HASHEM did for
Moshe and Yisrael” to teach us this very point.

How can one human being equal a nation?

The problem with this
Rashi is that it doesn’t seem possible that one human being could be the equal
to an entire nation. At this time, the Jewish people consisted of approximately
three million men, women, and children, including many Zakainim, and
many very righteous individuals. As great as Moshe may have been, how is it possible
that one person could be the equivalent to so many?

The answer to this
question lies in understanding the difference between physical
and spiritual growth.

On a physical plane, the
human is capable of extraordinary accomplishments. An Olympic athlete can take
a bar weighing over 500 pounds and in one smooth movement lift it over his head
– an act that seems beyond human capacity. Yet this athlete didn’t start out
lifting stupendous amounts. He began just like anyone else, and through a program
of progressive weight training, he changed his physicality. By systematically
challenging his body, he developed strength that is astonishing.

But that growth is
limited. As strong as he may be, he is still made of flesh and blood. He can’t
bench press a freight train, or pick up a house. And, if he was hit by a truck,
he would end up much like you and I would. While he may have changed his
muscularity and body mass index, his growth remains within the bounds of physical
limitations.

Spiritual growth, on the
other hand, is far more expansive and almost limitless. To better understand
this, it may be helpful to focus on understanding who we are.

The “I” that tells my
fingers to move, my tongue to speak, and my legs to walk is a spiritual
entity. I was once sitting under HASHEM’s throne up in Shamayim and have
now been temporarily put into this heavy cloak of physicality. In the near
future, I will once again separate from this body, and in whatever state of
perfection that I have reached, will live on forever.

HASHEM custom-designed
this world, and our current existence, specifically so that we can grow. We
were given all the challenges and tools needed to shape ourselves into powerful
spiritual entities that can tower over the greatest celestial beings.

The difficulty that we
have in understanding our potential is because we think in physical terms and
try to apply them to the spiritual realm. However, spirituality has a very
different set of rules.

If we were to borrow a
physical moshol, it would work something like this.

If physical growth were without limits

Imagine that HASHEM
created a world solely so that man could become as physically big and as strong
as possible. In this world, rather than his growth being slow and incremental,
it happens almost instantly and without limits.

So our prototype man
shows up to the gym on day one weighing 150 lbs., puts 100 lbs. on the bar, and
starts lifting. Because the work that he puts in brings about results, he
grows. The next day, he shows up to the gym weighing 200 lbs. of solid muscle.
He now puts 300 lbs on the bar and starts lifting – easy as pie. And this work
also brings about results, so the next day he walks into the gym weighing 250
lbs. and can easily lift 400 lbs.

The startling part is that
the growth is exponential. Because each day he is bigger and stronger than the
day before, he can now do more work, which itself challenges his body to a
greater extent, and thereby causes increased growth. Because the increased
growth builds on growth, within a short time he will be a towering hulk, able
to accomplish physical feats that are beyond our comprehension.

Moshe Rabbenu was unique

This seems to be the answer to
Moshe Rabbeinu. He was created with a unique nishamah, and he
used his potential fully. From his first moments of understanding, he devoted
himself to the service of HASHEM. As a result, he grew. That growth was
compounded exponentially, level after level, until he became so huge that he
alone equaled an entire generation of people. Something that is impossible in
the physical world: but can be realized in realm of the Nishamah.

How can one man

be equal to an entire nation?

The application to us

This concept is very
relevant to our lives. We were created with almost unlimited potential to grow,
to change our inner essence. And that growth is something that we enjoy for
eternity. When a person focuses on his true potential, life itself takes on a
whole different dimension. Every moment is a precious opportunity to reach
levels and acquire riches that will last forever.

For more on this topic please listen to Shmuz #14 – Living Like a Rock

The new Shmuz on Life book: Stop
Surviving and Start Living is now in print! It is a powerful, inspiring
work that deals with major life issues. Copies are available in sefarim stores,
or at www.TheShmuz.com, or by calling
866-613-TORAH (8672).

Egypt, the
country that bragged that no slave had ever escaped its land, stood by
helplessly as the Chosen Nation triumphantly left. Yet even at this moment,
Pharaoh sent spies along to follow them. After three days, his agents reported
back that the Jews had veered off course. Pharaoh called out to his people, “Let
us reclaim that which is ours,” and he led them in pursuit.

When the
Mitzrim arrived on the scene, the Jews were camped out against the Yam
Suf. At that moment, the cloud of fire that led the Jews through the desert
moved to the back of the camp and stopped the Egyptians from advancing. That
entire night, both camps stood in their places, separated by the Clouds of
Glory.

The
Ramban explains that during the night, an eastern wind began blowing.
This was the wind that split the sea. At first, it made small indentations in
the sea, but as the night wore on, the wind became stronger, and those small
indentations grew in size and depth until the sea itself was split into twelve
distinct pathways – ready for each tribe to cross in its own channel.

The
Ramban explains that HASHEM split the sea with the wind “so that it would
appear as if the wind split the sea into partitions.” Even though the wind can’t
possibly split the sea, much less split it into twelve separate partitions,
nevertheless, because of their great desire to harm the Jews, the Mitzrim
“pegged it on a natural cause.” It was just the wind, nothing more.

This
Ramban is very difficult to understand. How could the Mitzrim
possibly pin the splitting of the sea on the wind? They were intelligent,
thinking people. They, as everyone else, clearly understood that this couldn’t
be a natural occurrence. How is it possible that they accepted this sham
– that the wind split the sea?

How could the Mitzrim

possibly believe the

wind split the sea?

Understanding free will

The answer to
this question is predicated upon understanding the concept of free will. Free
will doesn’t mean the theoretical ability to do good or bad. It is the
practical ability where either side is possible. When a person can just as
easily turn to the bad as to the good, then it is his decision to choose.

As an
illustration, do you have free will to put your hand in a fire? In theory, you
do. You could do it. But you never would. It is damaging. It is foolish. So,
while in theory you have free will to do it, on a practical level,
you don’t.

Creating man

Chazal
(our sages) tell us that HASHEM created man to give him the opportunity to shape
himself into what he would be for eternity. That molding of the person is
accomplished by choosing what is good and proper and avoiding that which is
wrong and evil. By making these choices, man forms himself.

To create an
even playing field, HASHEM took the sechel – that pure, brilliant part of
me – and inserted it into a body filled with drives, passions, and hungers. Now
the two parts of me are integrated. I don’t want only what is good and proper
and noble. I also desire and hunger for many other things. My choice of doing
only good is no longer so simple.

However, if
HASHEM created man only out of these two parts – the sechel and the
guf – the purpose of creation would never have been met. The wisdom of
man is so great that it would be almost impossible for him to sin. Since every
sin damages me and every mitzvah makes me into a bigger, better person,
my natural intelligence wouldn’t allow me to sin, no matter how tempted I might
be. I would clearly recognize it as damaging to me. Much like putting my hand
into a fire, in theory I would have free will to do it, but on a practical
level, I wouldn’t.

Imagination – its role and
function

Therefore,
HASHEM added one more component to the human: imagination. Imagination is
the creative ability to form a mental picture and sense it so vividly, so
graphically; it is as if it is real. Ask anyone who has ever cried while reading
a novel whether imagination isn’t a powerful force.

Now armed with
this force, man can create fanciful worlds at his will and actually believe
them. If man wishes to turn to evil, he can create rationales to make these ways
sound noble and proper – at least enough to fool himself. If he wishes he can do
what is right, or if he wishes, he can turn to wickedness, and even his
brilliant intellect won’t prevent him. With imagination, he is capable of
creating entire philosophies to explain how the behavior he desires is
righteous, correct, and appropriate. Now man has free will.

People believe what they want to
believe

The result of
this is that people don’t believe that which is factual, proven and true; they
believe what they want to believe. And, one of the greatest manifestations of
this is the Egyptians following the Jews to their death. Despite living
through the makkos, despite seeing the sea split into twelve sections,
they didn’t believe it was a miracle. They attributed it to the wind because
that is what they wanted to believe.

We see a parallel to this in our day, when educated
people claim that the world just evolved. No Creator. No Plan. No purpose. All
of the complexity of this vast world just happened. You might wonder how anyone
could be so blind.

The answer is quite simple—I don’t want to accept G-d.
If G-d exists then someone is in charge. If G-d exists then there are rules.
Things I have to do, things I can’t do. That makes me uncomfortable. I am just
much more at ease with denying the whole thing.

For a person to see the truth, he must put away his bias
and ask himself what do I honestly think?  Forget the consequences. Forget my
agenda. What does logic dictate? In that framework, a person will see the
Creator as clear as day. However, if he doesn’t want to see the truth, nothing
in the world will convince him, not the greatest miracles, and not even the
splitting of the sea itself. He is capable of believing exactly what he wants to
believe.

For more on
this topic please listen to Shmuz #28 People Believe what they want to believe

The new Shmuz on Life book:
Stop Surviving and Start Living is now in print! It is a powerful,
inspiring work that deals with major life issues. Copies are available in
sefarim stores, or at www.TheShmuz.com, or by calling
866-613-TORAH (8672).

Pharaoh remains steadfast in his opposition to HASHEM

From the first time that
Moshe appeared in his court, Pharaoh’s attitude had been, “Who is this HASHEM
that I should listen to him?” Time after time, Pharaoh insulted HASHEM and
Moshe.

Now, HASHEM is sending
Moshe on the final mission: “Tell Pharaoh if he remains in his wickedness, all
of the first born in Mitzrayim will be killed.” The stakes were raised.

Moshe changes the message

Rashi tells us that when
Moshe spoke to Pharaoh, he modified the message. Moshe knew that in the end Pharaoh
himself would come running back to him and beg him to take the Jews out of
Mitzrayim. However, since it wasn’t respectful to mention that the king would
come running, Moshe changed the wording to, “Your servants will come
running.” Rashi explains that this was done out of respect for the monarchy.

This concept becomes difficult
to understand when we take into account what his government stood for and who
he was as an individual.

A wicked government

It would be difficult to
imagine a government more evil than Pharaoh’s. Official policy was enslavement
and oppression of the Jews – not as a tolerated social ill, but as public
policy and mandate of the government.

State law denied Jews all
rights – ownership of property, freedom of speech, the right of public
assembly. They were treated as chattel, owned by the Mitzrim. But more
than that, Jews didn’t even have the right to live. As the Jewish people
continued to thrive, infanticide became state policy.

Furthermore, Pharaoh
himself was a butcher. When he contracted tzaras, his wise men offered
the cure – bathe in human blood. The Medrash tells us that to do this, he would
bathe in the blood of Jewish babies each day. However, he needed a bath in the
evening as well, and heaven forefend to use stale blood, so each morning and
evening he would have 150 innocent Jewish souls slaughtered – for his personal
comfort.

Why should Moshe treat such
a king with respect?

Respect for the institution not the individual

“Without fear of government,
a man will swallow his friend alive.” (Pirkei Avos).
Anyone who has lived through a period of lawlessness can attest to the primal
fear he felt as he helplessly watched rioting, looting, and mob behavior.

Ask a recent émigré from
South Africa what it is like when a group of thugs appears at his backyard
picnic and begins indiscriminately shooting up his family. It’s a country where
carjackings, muggings, and armed holdups are the norm, and there is no one to
talk to, not because people there are different, but because the respect for
authority has melted.

It seems that the answer
to this question is the distinction between respecting the institution
and respecting the individual.

For the proper running of
society, and therefore for the good of mankind, there needs to be a system of
leadership and a hierarchy of authority, what we know as government. For
government to be effective it must wield power, and its citizens must respect
its authority. One of the obligations of any member of a society is to obey and
respect its leaders. It is a correct and proper manner of behavior. Without it,
society itself cannot function.

As the king occupies the
position of leadership of the country, it is the obligation of all to respect
him. That is basic to the good of society. It is the right way to act, and it
is the way that HASHEM wants us to act. This respect has nothing to do with the
individual; it has to do with the position. I may
recognize that a leader as an individual is a lout, and I may feel that way about
him privately, but as long as he maintains his position, I am obligated to
respect him.

Moshe Rabbeinu was
doing what was right and proper. Despite the fact that this individual was
wicked, he held the position of king, so Moshe showed respect for the
institution of leadership. Even though that institution was now being used to
pursue wicked ends, the institution itself was still worthy of respect, and
therefore Moshe acted accordingly.

What this means us

This message is particularly
relevant in our times. Historically, kings viewed their populations as sources
of taxes and foot soldiers – vehicles by which to expand their fame and
fortune. Rare was the king who actually ruled for the good of his people.

We find ourselves in very
different conditions, a government “of the people, by the people, and for
the people.” Whether we agree with every policy or not, it is an
unprecedented advance for the good of man, a regime run for the good of the
citizens of that land.

To us as Jews, this is
especially poignant. For almost two thousand years, we have wandered from
county to country, oppression to oppression, expulsion to expulsion. We now
find ourselves welcome members of the American society, citizens with all the
rights of any other citizen. We are allowed to operate our own schools in the
manner that we see fit. We are allowed to worship in the way that we feel
appropriate. We are allowed to conduct our lives in the way that we so choose.
The only request made upon us is to abide by the laws of the land.

In the history of our
long exile, we have never had it this good. And, therefore, it is especially
incumbent upon us to respect this land, obey its laws, pay homage to its
leaders, and appreciate the great blessing that we enjoy in living in this country.

For more on this topic
please listen to Shmuz #27 –America the Beautiful

The new Shmuz on Life book: Stop
Surviving and Start Living is now in print! It is a powerful, inspiring
work that deals with major life issues. Copies are available in sefarim stores,
or at www.TheShmuz.com, or by calling
866-613-TORAH (8672).

HASHEM sent Moshe Rabbeinu to be the redeemer of the Jewish people. However, from the moment that he embarked on this mission, the slavery became more intense and the pain more profound. Out of love for his nation, Moshe turned to HASHEM and said, “Why have You worsened the situation? Why have You sent me?”

The Gemara tells us that Moshe was punished for questioning HASHEM. HASHEM said, “It is a shame that that which is lost can no longer be found.” It is as if HASHEM were saying, “They don’t make them like they used to. Avrohom, Yitzchak, Yaakov, those were great people, but no more. Moshe, you don’t compare to them. They trusted Me, but you aren’t on their level.”

Moshe was the single greatest human being who ever lived

The question on this Gemara is that that the single greatest human being who ever lived was Moshe Rabbenu. The Rambam calls him the “father” in Torah and wisdom. He was the greatest of all prophets. In fact, one of our Thirteen Principles of Faith is that Moshe was the greatest of all Navi’im, greater than those who came before him and those who came after.

Since we know that Moshe was greater than even the Avos, how can we understand this Gemara? It seems to saying that Avrohom, Yitzchak, and Yaakov were superior to Moshe.

The difference between Emunah and Bitachon

The answer to this question lies in understanding the distinction between emunah and bitachon. The Rambam defines emunah as the knowledge that HASHEM created and continues to run all of Creation. Simply put, nothing can exist and no activity can occur without HASHEM.

Bitachon, however, is a quite different. The Chovos Halevovos defines bitachon as trusting in HASHEM. It is a sense of relying on HASHEM to watch over and protect me, as if to say, “I take my heavy burden and place it on HASHEM.” While I am responsible to be proactive, I am not in charge of the outcome, and I am not the determinant of the results. I rely on HASHEM to care for me.

Emunah is a state of understanding; bitachon is a state of trust. Emunah means knowing that HASHEM is involved in every activity on the planet; bitachon means trusting in HASHEM in every situation.

A person can have emunah and not bitachon

Aperson can have emunah and not bitachon. Pharaoh was a classic example. When threatened by the Jewish overpopulation, Pharaoh’s solution was to throw the baby boys into the Nile. The Medrash explains that this wasn’t a flippant reaction – it was highly calculated. Pharaoh knew that HASHEM promised Noach that He wouldn’t bring another flood. He also knew that HASHEM pays back “measure for measure.” Therefore, Pharaoh determined that HASHEM would want to bring a flood to pay back the Egyptians for drowning the babies, but because of HASHEM’s promise to Noach, that couldn’t happen, so he felt protected from HASHEM’s wrath.

Clearly, Pharaoh understood the power of HASHEM. He realized that HASHEM watches over the world. He also understood that HASHEM acts with justice. Pharaoh had no problem with emunah, but he sure didn’t trust in HASHEM – he rebelled. He had emunah, but no bitachon.

Growing in emunah

Both emunah and bitachon are based on relating to the world in a deeper manner. Emunah is the understanding that HASHEM is involved in more than just the big picture issues: life and death, war, famine, disease. . . HASHEM is involved in the minutiae of my daily life. HASHEM is there with me, 24/7, 365, all day, every day, from morning to night.

Amazingly, I can have this understanding and yet lack a level of trust in HASHEM.

Bitachon requires understanding the goodness of HASHEM

To truly rely on HASHEM, there are two additional criteria I must feel. I must know that HASHEM loves me more than I love myself, and I must know that HASHEM knows better than I do what is for my good.

Bitachon is predicated upon knowing that HASHEM has my best interests in mind and that He knows better than I what is for my good. When a person realizes this, and then takes his heavy load and transfers it to HASHEM – that is bitachon.

The answer: Moshe was greater in emunah – the Avos were greater in bitachon

The answer to the question seems to be that Moshe Rabbeinu was on a higher level of emunah than any other human being, then or since. He saw HASHEM with an absolute clarity. Just as we see a piece of wood in front of us as undeniably real, he saw HASHEM – right there. But absolute trust in HASHEM doesn’t necessarily follow. Bitachon islearned, and practiced. Much like a character trait that one develops over many years, one learns, often through life experiences, to be totally and utterly trusting in the kindness of HASHEM. Apparently, the Avos reached a higher level in this regard. They had an unwavering sense of the constant goodness and loving kindness of HASHEM; hence, they were able to be more trusting of HASHEM even when on the surface, there were many questions to be asked. Moshe was greater in emunah, while they were greater in bitachon.

This distinction has great relevance. Often our problems with faith come from this one issue: we have emunah, but not bitachon. When a person comes to the core understanding that HASHEM is more concerned for my good than I am, and that HASHEM knows my needs far better than I, he comes to a different degree of trust, a different level of relying on HASHEM. He comes to true bitachon.

For more on this topic please listen to Shmuz #18 –The Difference between Emunah and Bitachon.

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A most joyous reunion

Yosef was the most beloved of Yaakov’s sons. All of the Torah that he learned, he taught to Yosef. In Yosef, Yaakov saw brilliant intelligence and wisdom, In Yosef, he saw all of the attributes of his beloved Rochel — the kindness, the beauty, and the leadership qualities needed to head a nation. In Yosef, he recognized all of his own life events playing out in parallel.

When Yaakov gave the kisones pasim (the coat of many colors) to Yosef, it was a symbol that established Yosef as the leader of the brothers. To Yaakov, Yosef represented the greatest of the Shvatim (tribes)and the future of the Jewish nation.

Why would Yaakov

read Shema now?

When the brothers came back with the report that Yosef was murdered, Yaakov was inconsolable. The tragedy was so profound that none of his children and none of the dignitaries who came to visit could comfort him. For years, the intensity of mourning didn’t leave Yaakov. His beloved son was gone.

Finally after twenty-two painful years, father and son were reunited. The joy and emotion of the moment is difficult to imagine — deep yearnings of the heart finally realized. Yosef was so moved that he kissed his father, and then hugged him and cried, not just with tears, but with profuse crying that it seemed as if it were without stop. However, Rashi notes that Yaakov did not kiss Yosef, nor was he crying. He was reciting the Shema.

This appears as a rather odd activity. Of all times, why did Yaakov see fit to read the Shema right then?

Yaakov was locking in the emotion

It would seem the answer to this question is that Yaakov felt such intense emotions at that moment — possibly more intense joy than he had ever experienced — that he wanted to capitalize on those feelings. He didn’t want them to simply pass; he wanted lock them in, to put them into concrete form so that they would become eternal. He wanted to take that extreme sense of joy and completion that he felt and use it to reach a new level. With the high that he experienced, he proclaimed HASHEM’s sovereignty of all. “You, the Master of the universe, have brought my son back to me.” He recognized HASHEM with an unparalleled sense of appreciation and proclaimed the majesty of HASHEM with a level of complete clarity that he may well never had reached before.

This wasn’t the first time that Yaakov said Shema

Obviously, this wasn’t the first time that Yaakov read Shema. He had accepted HASHEM’s dominion on a daily basis for decades and decades. But this was a new level of understanding that he was only able to obtain through these powerful emotions.

Emotions wax and wane

This concept has great relevance to us. In the course of our lives, we experience highs and lows, times of great joy and times of deep sorrow, times of excitement and enthusiasm, and times of boredom and listlessness. There are times when we are passionate and fervent, and there are times when we are apathetic. None of these states remains for long. Like waves of an ocean, they come, they go, and when they are gone, we remain the same as before – unchanged.

Emotions are tools for growth

The ability to capture the moment, to convert it into something permanent, is one of the keys to growth. If a person has a dramatic realization, if an event occurs that is the undeniable result of HASHEM’s direct involvement in his life, there is a sense of appreciation of recognition. But that feeling will pass. That sense of clarity will leave.

Sometimes we are so moved by a sudden turn in circumstances that we say, “It is hashgacha!” (Divine intervention) But obvious as it may be at the moment, ten minutes later that sense of clarity is gone. The only way to prevent that it from passing is to put that emotion into action, to take that understanding and make it permanent.

Thank You HASHEM

Sometimes even the most elementary action can have a profound effect, something as simple as saying thank you. If a person says the words, “HASHEM, I recognize that these events were not by chance. I see that it is You Who orchestrates this world and I thank you,” this statement can take a fleeting recognition and make it lasting. Even though the concept was already clear, going through the process can have a dramatic effect on whether this understanding actually remains and changes my perception.

On the good and on the bad

On the opposite side of the spectrum are painful experiences — loneliness, suffering losses, failing in business. Nobody wishes for them and nobody wants them. However, when experiencing them, a person does have a very different perspective on themselves and on life. Gone is the feeling of independence, gone is the illusion of infallibility, and gone is the aura of superiority. In that sense, these are peak moments, moments of extraordinary clarity.

Ironically, the pain will pass and be forgotten. The question is: will the gain pass with it as well? If a person doesn’t take concrete steps to make that vision permanent, it too will pass and become just part of a distant memory.

When a person reaches a new level of understanding, that experience can be an event of life that happens and passes. But with one small step, it can become a permanent part of the person.

By training ourselves to lock in these peak moments, we can take life experiences, moments of unique lucidity, and make them part of ourselves. Often, all it takes is a simple conscious action, a decision, or a small change to make lofty concepts and emotional highs permanent — changing who I am forever.

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Why do we celebrate Chanukah?

“When the Yivanim entered the Bais HaMikdash, they defiled all the oil set aside for lighting the Menorah. When the Chashmonoim were victorious, they searched and were able to find only one small jug of oil with the Kohain Gadol’s seal intact. It had sufficient oil to last only one day, but miraculously it lasted eight days. In honor of the miracle of the oil lasting eight days, Chazal inaugurated these days for Hallel and thanksgiving.” — Gemara Shabbos 21b

Al Ha’Nisim: the miracle of the battle

The Maharal states that this Gemara seems to contradict what we say in Al Ha’Nisim, a tefillah that was written by the Tanaim hundreds of years before. In the Al Ha’Nisim, we proclaim thanks to HASHEM for the miracle of the war. We thank HASHEM for delivering the Yivani armies into our hands. “You fought their battles, judged their judgments, took their revenge. You put the mighty into the hands of the weak, the many into the hands of the few…” According to the Al Ha’Nisim, the miracle of Chanukah was that HASHEM delivered us from the armies of the Yivanim. Yet the Gemara in Shabbos says that we celebrate Chanukah because of the miracle of the oil lasting eight days. The Maharal asks, “Which one is correct?”

How could anyone

not see the victory

as a miracle?

The miracle of the oil revealed the miracle of the war.

The Maharal answers that both reasons are true, and both are consistent with each other. The actual event for which we give thanksgiving and sing Hallel is the salvation of the Jewish people. We won a war against all odds. However, it wasn’t clear that the victory was a miracle. To people living in those times, the military success seemed to be natural. It was attributed to Jewish resilience and bravery. It didn’t appear that HASHEM had delivered us from the hands of the Yivanim; rather, it appeared as “their might, and the strength of their arms.” It was only through the miracle of the oil that they came to understand the miracle of the battle. Once people saw the oil last eight days – an overt miracle from HASHEM — they then came to see that their success on the battlefield was from HASHEM as well. The miracle of the oil revealed to them the miracle of the war.

Israel didn’t have a standing army

This Maharal becomes difficult to understand when we take into account a basic historical overview.

The events of Chanukah take place around the middle of the era of the Second Bais HaMikdash. From the time that Bavel destroyed the first Bais HaMikdash up until that point, the Jewish people lived under the reign of gentile monarchies. Our right to exist and our form of self-government was decided by the ruling parties. We were a vassal state under foreign rule, and when the Yivanim entered Yerushalayim, the Jewish people did not even have a standing army.

This wasn’t a war of a stronger army against a weaker opponent. It was a war in which the most powerful empire in the world was pitted against a band of unorganized, unarmed, private citizens.

While the war itself lasted three years, during the entire first year of fighting, there were no formal battles. Two armies were not squaring off against each other; there was no Jewish army. The fighting consisted of guerrilla skirmishes. Some Jews would sneak up on a lone detail of Yivani soldiers, kill them, and take their arms. Bit by bit, more Jews would join Yehudah Ha’Macabi, but at every point during the war, the Jews were far outnumbered, outgunned, and preposterously less battle-ready than their enemies.

The leaders of the rebellion were Kohanim

Even more startling is that almost all of the original fighters had no battle experience. The leaders of the rebellion were Kohanim. A Kohain is a Torah teacher, one who serves in the Bais HaMikdash, one who guides the klal Yisroel in ruchniyus (spiritual matters). He isn’t a soldier. So this was a war led and fought not by soldiers, but by roshei yeshiva. It was akin to Reb Shmuel Kaminetsky leading the Lakewood Yeshiva in battle against the US Marine Corps.

How could anyone not see the miracle of the war?

No intelligent assessment of the situation would have predicted a Jewish victory. How then is it possible that the Jews at the time saw these events as anything other than the miracles that they clearly were?

This seems to be natural to the human

The answer to this question seems to be that when one is many years away and far removed, he gains a historical vantage point. He is able to see an event in context and can easily recognize it as a miracle. But to those living in the day-to-day heat of the battle, it is much more difficult to see the event from that perspective.

To those involved, it seemed to be a natural course of events. Granted the odds were slim, but the Jews won. Skirmish after skirmish, battle after battle, the Macabees came out victorious. There is no question that they did well, which is why it seemed that their skill, their cunning, and their wisdom in battle won those wars. And as such, to people living in those times, the miracle was hidden. And then a single event focused their sight.

When the Kohanim returned to the Bais HaMikdash and took out that little bit of oil that couldn’t possibly last for eight days and watched it remain aglow night after night, everyone knew it was miraculous. When they experienced the miracle of the oil, it reshaped the previous three years in their minds. Then they could see the battles themselves as the miracles that they were. Exactly as the Maharal said, “The miracle of the oil revealed the miracle of the battle.”

We see the same phenomena in our times

In our own times, we witness an eerie parallel to these events and to the same mistaken interpretation.

For almost two thousand years we have existed as a lone sheep amongst seventy wolves. Universally hated and oppressed, the Jewish people have survived. And now, after almost 1900 years of wandering, we find ourselves back in our own land.

Since 1948, the Jewish nation has witnessed profound miracles in the repopulation and development of the land of Israel. But it is the survival of our people that is the greatest miracle.

In 1948, the population in the Middle East numbered roughly 650,000 Jews, surrounded by some 50 million Arabs. On May 15^th, 1948, one day after the State of Israel was declared, five nations attacked, each with well-trained armies and air forces, each alone capable of annihilating the small band of Holocaust survivors. At the time there was no Jewish army, navy or air force. Yet, against all odds, we won that war, and against all odds we continued to win war after war – until now, ironically, when the Jews are considered the superpower in the region.

To most people, Jew and gentile alike, it seems that this is just the way of the world. To the average witness to these events, it isn’t a demonstration of the hand of HASHEM. It is just the ebb and flow of history.

The lesson of Chanukah is to see behind the veil of nature, to tune our sight into the true cause of events, and to see that it is HASHEM Who runs the world and fights our wars – then as now.

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The most difficult period in Yosef’s life

Yosef was about to begin the most difficult period of his
life. His own brothers left him to die in a pit of scorpions. He would soon be
sold numerous times as a slave, then he would spend twelve months being hounded
by the wife of his master, followed by imprisonment in a dank, dark dungeon
where he would not see the light of day for twelve years. Clearly, Yosef was
heading for hard times.

Rashi tells us that this posuk shows us the great
reward that is given to tzaddikim. When Yosef was bound and sold as a
slave, the wagon that took him down to Egypt was carrying spices that emitted a
fragrant smell, as opposed to the normal cargo that gives off an obnoxious
odor. Clearly, HASHEM loved the tzaddik and arranged for something out
of the ordinary to protect him.

The obvious question on this Rashi is that if the Torah
wants us to show the reward for tzaddikim, it could have done a much
more convincing job by saving Yosef from this entire event. If HASHEM is
watching the tzaddikim, then why couldn’t He just save Yosef from all of
the suffering that he was about to endure?

A comfortable pillow in the ambulance

This is comparable to a situation in which a man is in a
catastrophic car crash that breaks almost every bone in his body. The Hatzalah
crew rushes to the scene, puts him on a stretcher, and as they are speeding to
the hospital, his friend riding with him says, “Look how HASHEM watches over
you. They even put a comfortable pillow under your head.” One would have the
right to ask, “If HASHEM is concerned with this person’s well being, then why
didn’t He arrange for the drunk driver who hit him to crash into a pole instead
of his car? Save him from the ordeal; don’t give his broken neck a comfortable
pillow to lie on!”

Some life situations are inevitable

The answer to this question seems to be that there are
certain situations in life that are unavoidable, not because HASHEM
isn’t capable of preventing them, but quite the opposite, because HASHEM
orchestrated them according to the needs of that person or that generation.

Yosef was to be sold as a slave and in that state, brought
to Mitzrayim. As the prelude to his future, the future of his family, and the
future of the Jewish nation, this was a vital ingredient. Ultimately, for his
destiny and for the good of the Jewish nation, this situation needed to happen.
It was part of the master plan.

However, even within the difficult times, HASHEM showed
loving kindness to Yosef. He had to be sold as a slave, but why should he
suffer unnecessarily? The Arabs normally carried petroleum; why should Yosef
have to suffer the offensive odor? For that reason, HASHEM arranged something
very uncharacteristic: the caravan was carrying perfume and not oil.

All suffering is carefully weighed and measured

There is a great lesson for us to take from this. In life,
we will suffer through many situations, trials and tribulations. Not only are
they are part of life, they are needed – for us, for our growth so that we can
reach the purpose for which we were put on this planet. In that sense, they are
inevitable, not because HASHEM is uncaring, but because we need them. They are
for our good. In the scheme of life, they serve us well, but with them comes
some suffering. The amount of suffering that a person experiences on this
planet is weighed, measured and administered in exact dosages. The pain is
delivered precisely and exactly, not an iota more and not an iota less. We get
exactly the measure we need.

Many times it is clear to see that HASHEM is bringing pain,
preplanned and preordained, right to my doorstep. But it is hard to see that it
is for my good and that HASHEM is doing it out of loving kindness.

Seeing the Kindness in the torture

When I discover the kindness within the torture, when
I find the “comfortable pillow in the ambulance,” this can
change my perspective on the entire situation. It reminds me that HASHEM cares
for me and has brought about this event for my good. I may not see it as good,
I may not understand how it is for my best, but it is clearly orchestrated by
HASHEM. I see that HASHEM has gone out of His way – if it could be – to make
part of my situation more comfortable. This shows me the great love that HASHEM
has for me. It allows me to know that just as the pillow was planned out of
love, so too were the rest of the circumstances. This viewpoint colors the
entire situation in a different light, allowing me to understand that it was
brought by HASHEM, and despite the pain and suffering, it is something that I
need for my good.

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Aysav comes to kill Yaakov

The word came to Yaakov that his brother Aysav was coming to
greet him, accompanied by 400 men armed to the teeth. It was obvious to all
that Aysav intended to kill Yaakov. The posuk tells us that Yaakov
feared greatly.

Maybe Yaakov was

just plain scared?

In Brachos 4a, Rebbe Yaakov Bar Idi states there is a
contradiction between this posuk and an earlier one. When Yaakov was
leaving his father’s house, HASHEM promised him that he would be protected. If
so, how is it possible that Yaakov was now afraid?

Rebbe Yaakov bar Idi answers that Yaakov was afraid that
HASHEM’s promise to guard him might have been based on the assumption that
Yaakov would remain on the level he was on. Yaakov feared that he might have
sinned and was no longer the same man he once was, so the promise no longer
applied. Therefore, there is no contradiction. HASHEM’s promise to guard him
was based on his remaining on the madreigah that was then, and he was
afraid that he had lost that level of purity. Therefore, he was now afraid of
Aysav.
This Gemara becomes difficult to understand when we take into account that after all is said and done, Yaakov Avinu was still a human. No matter how great the Avos were, they were made out of the same flesh and blood that we are, had the same physical makeup that we do, and faced all the challenges of being a human being.

This means that Yaakov had that most difficult challenge of life: integrating his intellectual understandings into practice, of believing and not believing. Of course he knew that HASHEM promised to protect him, but here he was faced with a brother whose nature he knew quite well: a powerful, driven man who had a burning desire to settle an old grudge. This man didn’t come alone; he brought with him an army to aid in what was his clear intention — murder. So why does Rebbe Yaakov bar Idi assume that it was impossible for Yaakov to be afraid? Maybe Yaakov was  just scared — not because of any sin that changed his level, but because of the danger that he faced. Perhaps he was afraid of Aysav, afraid of being out there alone, and afraid of dying.

HASHEM made that promise 34 years ago

What makes this explanation even more plausible is that HASHEM’s promise to Yaakov was made over 34 years before Aysav came to greet him. An awful lot of time passed since Yaakov left his parents’ home. Maybe the trust in HASHEM’s promise had faded over the time. Maybe Yaakov was ever so slightly affected by the ways of the world. Why does Rebbe Yaakov bar Idi assume that there must be some answer as to why Yaakov was afraid? The explanation might be quite straightforward: Yaakov hadn’t heard this promise in many, many years, and he was simply afraid. Maybe Yaakov was much like us.

Yaakov walked with HASHEM

The answer to this question seems to be that there is a key distinction between Yaakov Avinu and the average person. Yaakov Avinu walked with HASHEM.

When he got up in the morning, he said, “Good morning, HASHEM.” When he went to sleep at night, he said, “Good night, HASHEM” because his Creator was directly in front of him. When he went about his daily activities, HASHEM was with him all day long. HASHEM was there as he walked, as he ate, and as he greeted people. Throughout his day, HASHEM was present and accounted for.

One of the reasons that we have such difficulties in trusting in HASHEM is that HASHEM isn’t “here.” Perhaps HASHEM is some thirteen billion light years away, up in the heavens. But when I am walking on a cold dark street late at night, and a car stops, and three tough looking guys step out and approach me, I am alone. It is the three of them and me. So, naturally, I am afraid. Who wouldn’t be?

Yaakov Avinu was never alone

But Yaakov Avinu was never alone. His entire existence was focused on being close to HASHEM. HASHEM was present with him every moment of his day. When he went to the well to find a wife, HASHEM was right there arranging for Rochel to come with the sheep. When he went to the house of Lavan, HASHEM was right there protecting him from the scheming of a trickster. And now that he was preparing to meet his brother in what was likely to be mortal combat, he was not going out alone. He walked with HASHEM.

If Yaakov didn’t have a reason to think that HASHEM’s promise no longer applied, it would have been impossible for him to have feared being injured. It would be the equivalent of you or me being afraid of some high school punks while being escorted by the entire US Marine Corps. That is why Rebbe Yaakov Bar Idi asked, “How is it possible that Yaakov was afraid?” His answer is that Yaakov was afraid that the promise no longer applied. Maybe HASHEM no longer guaranteed to protect him. Otherwise, it would have been impossible for Yaakov to have feared danger.

Growing in Bitachon means seeing HASHEM — right here

This concept that HASHEM is present and right here is the basis of all bitachon. If a person doesn’t know that HASHEM is present in his life, any discussion of relying on HASHEM is foolish. How can I rely on HASHEM when He isn’t even here? What good is trusting in HASHEM if HASHEM isn’t on the scene, right here to watch over me? Bitachon, by definition, means knowing that HASHEM is here, supervising me and involved in my life.

While this may seem self-evident, in practice it is highly elusive. To truly know it requires much work, and to a large extent, this is the measure of a person’s ruchniyus. However, it is also one of the easiest things to do – to simply remember that HASHEM is here. Right here. As I speak, as I think, as I read. Not some millions of miles away up there in the sky, but right here. This single cognition has a dramatic effect on my entire relationship to HASHEM, on all of my Avodas HASHEM, and ultimately on my entire life.

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Yaakov asks for four things

As Yaakov Avinu is running from his parents’ home to escape from Aysav, he recognizes that he is beginning a new chapter in his life. He turns to HASHEM and pleads for four things:

1. HASHEM should be with him.

2 HASHEM should protect him.

3. HASHEM should return him to his home in safety.

4. HASHEM should give him food to eat and clothing to wear – parnassa.

HASHEM granted three out of four

The Medrash tells us that HASHEM granted three of the requests but not the fourth, saying, “If I guarantee him his daily needs, he won’t have any reason to turn to Me.” So HASHEM did not answer the request for his daily needs – parnassa (sustenance).

Who was Yaakov Avinu?

This Medrash seems difficult to understand when we take into account that this is Yaakov Avinu. Chazal tell us that Yaakov was the greatest of the Avos. He was a man who walked with HASHEM — constantly. At the core of his essence was a deep craving to be close to HASHEM. He lived to serve HASHEM. What difference would it make if he didn’t have to worry about making a livelihood? Of course he would still reach out to HASHEM. Of course he would still see HASHEM in every occurrence in his life.

You don’t write; you don’t call; you don’t love me anymore.

It almost sounds as if HASHEM is saying, “I have to keep Yaakov from getting too comfortable; otherwise he will forget Me. I can’t promise him sustenance because then he won’t need Me. He won’t write. He won’t call. He won’t love Me anymore.”

This is a person who was so motivated to have a relationship with HASHEM that he always clung to Him. What difference would needing a parnassa have on such a relationship?

Understanding the human

The answer to this question is based on a fundamental understanding of man. HASHEM created the human in a state of flux. HASHEM took a nishoma – pure sechel, unadulterated intellect and understanding – and enveloped it in layers and layers of physicality. At the core of a person’s essence are certain understandings, concepts that we intuitively know, but which are blocked by the effects of being housed in a body. The goal of the human is to cut through the layers of physicality and keenly perceive those truths of purpose that are instinctive to our nishomas.

Every man, even a man as great as Yaakov Avinu, is a still a man and requires exercise in seeing HASHEM. He needs to flex his spiritual muscles by calling out to HASHEM and recognizing his total dependence on Him. When a person needs something and must turn to HASHEM, that process brings him to a higher level of appreciating his dependence on HASHEM. For that reason, HASHEM didn’t guarantee Yaakov Avinu sustenance. Yaakov needed the need so that he would become closer to HASHEM

Life would be much better if only…

This concept has great relevance to our lives. Often times we feel, “I would be better able to serve HASHEM if only…”

If only making a living wasn’t so difficult. …  If only I didn’t have medical issues… If only I could find my bashert…

At times it almost seems as if HASHEM is deliberately sabotaging our well-laid plans for serving Him. And it doesn’t make much sense.

Our relationship to HASHEM

One of the reasons a person has to struggle in this world is so that he will recognize that it is HASHEM Who is at the center of his universe, and it is HASHEM Who orchestrates every part of this creation. The basis of our entire Avodas HASHEM is to perceive that HASHEM is completely, totally, irrevocably involved in everything that happens in this world – and we are dependent upon Him.

However, it isn’t enough for this to be a concept or thought; it has to become a reality. Much like a brick is hard, solid and heavy, I don’t think it;  I know it. So too, I have to come to the knowledge that HASHEM is present and involved in my life, and I am completely dependent upon Him. To reach that level of knowing requires a change of perspective.

I need needs

When I need something and am forced to cry out to HASHEM for help, I come to this realization –  not in theory, not in principle, but in reality. I get it. When I don’t know how I am going to make a mortgage payment and I cry out to HASHEM for help and “somehow” things work out, that process – the asking, the feeling helpless, and then seeing the salvation – brings this reality home.

“Needs” aren’t annoying obstacles to my spiritual growth. Quite the opposite, they are often the catalysts to my finally getting it, to understanding that HASHEM is involved in my life, that HASHEM really cares about what happens to me, and that I am dependent upon Him.

We need needs — real needs, deep needs — because only with needs can we become aware of that it is HASHEM Who is the Provider. Only then can we recognize that we are creations dependent upon our Creator.

“The Shmuz”, an engaging and motivating Torah lecture that deals with real life issues is available for FREE at www.TheShmuz.com. Look for the new “Shmuz on Life Book” available soon at your local Sefarim store, or at the Shmuz.com.

A User’s Guide to Avoiding Misery and Heartache.

R’ Ben Tzion Shafier / The Shmuz.com

Marriage is Forever

I want to present you with a challenge: You have six months to find the perfect roommate. The way
it works is you can choose anyone you want, but once you decide on this person—that’s it, you are stuck —no changes.
And, here are the conditions. From now on, you and your roommate will do everything together. You will go to sleep and get up at the same time. You will drive the same car. You will eat your meals together. You will vacation and visit family together. You will have the same friends. And, you will share your possessions, keep your money in the same account, and pay your expenses together. So what you buy, when you buy it, and how much of it you buy –  you decided together. And one more thing: there will be no secrets from your roommate. You will report everything:  where you go, who you go with, and how long you’ll be there. This arrangement will last for four years – no taking off a semester, no two-week breaks.

How confident are you that you could make the right choice? How sure are you that you won’t regret your choice after a few months?

Now, let’s add one more wrinkle to this challenge. What if instead of the arrangement lasting for four year, it was for ten years? What if you now had to choose the person that you would room with for the next decade? How certain are you that you can pick the right one?

Here’s the point: When you get married, it’s for a lot more than ten years—hopefully, it’s for life. And that’s the problem. When you choose a spouse, you are committing to that person for the next who knows how long.  How could you possibly make an intelligent choice? Who you are now, isn’t who you will be twenty years from now. People change. Things happen. And what was important when you were younger isn’t what matters to you when you’re older. So, how can you know now, who the right person will be for you when you’re forty or fifty? You don’t have a clue to what you will be like then?

While this is one of the more glaring difficulties with choosing the “right one”, we’ll soon see there are many more.

Chapter 2 The Dating Game

The shaddchan says in that singsong voice. “So,
tell me, what are you looking for?”

And,
out comes the laundry list.

“I
need someone who is extroverted, funny, and outgoing.”

“I
need a woman who is very frum, tolerant
and kind.”

“I
need a guy who is a take-charge type, strong but not headstrong.”

The lists are long, and the benchmarks are detailed, specific and exact. This is what I need. This is what I would like. This is what I have to have. If he has this and this quality we can be happily married. If he doesn’t then – forget it—it just won’t work.

It seems that, before they date, most people take a sort of personal inventory. They say to themselves, “Let’s see… Since I have this type of personality, I need this type of guy. Of course, I would really like qualities A, B and C as well. But D and E? They are non negotiable. I just can’t marry a guy who doesn’t have them. If he has F and G – all the better. But for me, it’s D and E. If a guy doesn’t have those two, forget it—I’m just not interested” Then based on their understanding of what they need, what they want, and what they would like to have, they take their shopping list, head out into the market place, to find the guy that comes closest.

And unwittingly, many people make the first big mistake in dating: they aren’t looking for their bashert (predestined) they have already formed him in their minds, and now they’re looking for the one that comes the closest to that image.

Mr. Potato Head

It’s almost like they are playing with Mr. Potato Head (the doll that children design). Simply, open the box and out come your choices. You can dress him up with red lips or blue. Big ears or small. Would you like long legs or short? What about eyebrows? Bushy or sparse? How about feet? Big or little? But don’t fret, if he does look just right, simply start over, until you get him just the way you like.

This is the way people look for a spouse. They make their list: “This is what I need. This is what I would like. This is what I have to have.” They form their image of their ideal match, and with these convictions firmly in place, they begin their search.  Yet, for some strange reason it doesn’t work. They come back empty handed, uttering the words, “I just can’t find the “right guy.”

They can’t find the right guy, because they aren’t looking for him! They are too busy looking for their Mr. Potato head, the one they created, and who only exists in their imagination.

Finding the Right One

The problem, however, really begins with a powerful assumption. The assumption is that the average person should know what they need in a spouse.  Naturally then, their responsibility is to find the person who fits that profile.

As we will see, however, this is far from simple.

Chapter 3 Matchmaker, Matchmaker make me a Match

A Close Circle of Friends

When my wife and I were newlyweds, we took up an informal study of marriages. At the time, my parents had a close circle of friends – eight couples – who got together regularly. We looked at each couple, to try and discover the “secret” to a happy marriage. After a while, we compared notes, and found that we both reached the same conclusion: every one of them was mismatched!

She was too smart… He was too frum… She was too sophisticated… He was too loud… Had we been the shadchan, we would not have put any of them together. They just didn’t fit.

Our little exercise brought home a critical point: A successful marriage isn’t a match of two similar individuals. It is a union of a man and woman, different in temperament, emotionality, and priorities. Each comes in with their unique strengths and weaknesses, and as a couple they complete one another. His deficiencies are compensated for by her strengths, her shortcomings are filled in by his positive attributes, and the whole is much greater than the sum of the parts.

But knowing exactly what your strengths and weakness are, and what is the correct balance for them is far from simple.

Who Am I?

Marriage is a complex weave of human personalities, attributes and attitudes, and before a person can know what they need in a spouse, they have to know themselves. They have to be able to answer some fundamental questions about their personality “Who am I? What really makes me tick? What are my core tendencies, strengths and faults? How will I react in different life situations? How do I handle stress? What about failure? What about health issues? What if I lose a child?”

Most people don’t come to this level of self-awareness until they’re old and grey—and even then, not everyone does. How can we expect a young person, just starting out in life, to have such a deep understanding of themselves?

But, the problem is even worse. Let’s assume that somehow I do know myself. To find the right match I have to know which attributes will compliment my own? Do I need a person who is strong or mild? Do I need a leader or follower? One guy needs a woman who believes in him. And another needs a woman who will put him in his place. But which guy needs which type of woman, in what balance, and to what extent is very hard to know. As an example:

The Perfect Shidduch

One day, before giving shiur, my Rebbe, HaRav Henoch Leibowitz, zt’l laughingly remarked, “Boruch Hashem! We finally found a shidduch for this guy. I didn’t know who we would marry him off to. What a temper he has! But, Boruch Hashem, we found the perfect match.”

At this point, we were very curious about the “perfect shidduch” for a guy with a fierce temper.

The Rosh HaYeshiva, zt’l, continued, “We found him a woman with a temper even bigger than his. Now when he opens his mouth, she screams louder, and he’s as quiet a lamb. It’s the perfect shidduch.”

While this is a cute story, everyone knows that the worst match for a guy with a temper is a woman with a bigger temper. It’s asking for the next Hundred Year war.  Unless… this guy only talks a big game, but deep down he’s docile. If his spirit is really meek, then he won’t explode when confronted, quite the opposite he will simmer down. In that case, the ideal match is a strong woman.

But who has the wisdom to make that judgment call? Who has the life’s experiences to know whether their inner essence will comply or rebel against such force? Certainly no other relationship requires that type of insight. When it comes to choosing a friend, the criterion is simple: do we get along. If yes—great. If not—then let’s move on.

A marriage, however, is so much more complex. It entails taking two people diverse in nature, temperament and upbringing, and asking them to mold themselves into one unit. Choosing the right one requires a level of genius that the average person people simply doesn’t have.

In fact, most people don’t even understand marriage.

The Dynamics of a Marriage are Complex

Ask couples that are married for twenty years or more to explain the “secret to a happy marriage”. Ask them to define, why some marriages work, and others don’t? Why do some couples flourish and others fail? “

Likely, you will you get a string of answers, with most honest people admitting, “I really don’t know.” And, if you do get some people offering theories, just ask them to explain why many nice, considerate couples are at each other’s throats. And plenty of coarse, selfish couples manage to get along just fine.

What you will find is that the average person can’t explain these high mysteries, because the dynamics of a successful marriage are very elusive. And even highly intelligent, worldly people can’t define the “mechanics” of why a marriage works, and if it doesn’t, what to do about it. So how can we expect a young person, never married, to know what they need in a marriage, when older married couples can’t?

If the situation isn’t sounding difficult enough, there’s a far bigger issue at stake.

Men are from Mars

The entire notion that a young woman is capable of choosing “Mr. Right”, denies a fundamental reality.

Hashem created men and women to serve distinct roles, and therefore made men and women different. Not different marginally or incidentally – different in almost every imaginable way. They are different in their nature, outlook, and values. They are different in the way they approach life, objects and relationships. They are different in the way that they behave, relate to each other, and communicate. Men and women are so different that you would almost think, that they belong to different cultures, or come from different planets.

And, it’s not that they are socialized or brought up differently; these distinctions are inborn.

Mixed Gender Best Friends

Studies show that when asked, “Who is your best friend?” three-year-olds are as likely to name a girl, as a boy. At that age, mixed gender friendships are the norm.  They play the same games, have the same interests, and are fully compatible. Yet by the time the same group of children is five years old, only 20% of the boys will name a girl as his best friend, and the same for the girls. By then, the two groups are no longer so similar. The boys are off running around playing rough and tumble games, and if they do sit down it’s to play with “boy toys”: trucks, action figures and guns—things that little appeal to the girls. By the time the same group is seven, it is almost unheard of that a boy will have a best friend who is girl, or for a girl to have a best friend who is a boy. By then the two groups have almost nothing in common.

And, these differences don’t go away with age – they increase dramatically. Watch children at play during recess at the local public school. The girls will be off on one side of the yard playing jump rope or hopscotch, while the boys will be off to the other side playing tag or touch football. Even though the classes are mixed, it is rare to find boys and girls together in play. The two groups have moved off into their own worlds.

So let’s even assume that a young person has enough life’s wisdom to truly know themselves, and what type of person they need. How much do they know about the opposite gender? Are they so wise that they can translate their needs into the emotional language of another gender? They don’t understand the emotional operating system of that gender.  For a woman to know whether this guy fits the parameters of the type she needs, she would need to decode a complex individual operating with a different set of feelings, needs and desires, recognize his core strengths and attributes, then translate that information back into her own emotional operating system. How many people have the sheer intellect to do that?

Listen at the Kollel Table

If your not if this is true, try visiting most any kollel. Just listen in to the conversation at the breakfast table, when the newly married guys talk amongst themselves. It seems that every one of them comes in with a glazed look in his eyes, mouthing the words, “ I don’t understand her?” When she says this, she means that. And when she says that, she means this. I just can’t figure her out!”

It isn’t that his wife is difficult, or that he is thick. It’s simply that in the first stages of a marriage, it isn’t easy to read your spouse’s emotional needs. And there is a real learning curve that a husband and wife must go through to understand what is really going on in the other person’s world.

The odds of success aren’t great

So, the plot thickens. For a person to know what it is that they need in a spouse, first they have to fundamentally know themselves, which for most people doesn’t happen till they are much older. Next, they, they have to find the corresponding jigsaw puzzle piece from amongst a gender that they don’t understand, and compute their differences within the context of a relationship they can’t yet relate to. They then have to make sure that this person will fit not just now, but in twenty years as well. Finally they have to go out amongst the tens of thousands of potential matches and find that one needle in the haystack.

What do you think the odds of success are?

Not good at all. In fact, for a young person to go out there and expect to find the “right one” is beyond absurd. It’s preposterous.

Infatuation isn’t a sign that she’s bashert

So, some people will tell you the answer must be love. “If, I can’t use wisdom to find my bashert, then, I’ll guess I have to use my heart. I’ll simply go out and find the person that I fall for. If I love her, then obviously we are meant for each other.”

And, if making their “Mr. Potato Head” is the first big mistake that people make in dating, “Loves is the Answer” is the second one. Here’s how it plays out.

Infatuation is not a sign that she is bashert

A young man gets engaged, and his friends ask him, “How did you know that she was the right one?”

“I knew it the minute I saw her.” He answers.  “I took one look into her eyes, and I was gone. It was like rockets on the fourth of July.”

What this young man is describing is infatuation. Infatuation isn’t a sign that she’s your bashert. It is a sign that you are attracted to her. You can be attracted to your bashert – or to any number of people. Just ask someone who has gone out for a while. It isn’t uncommon that a happily married man or woman went out with other people before they were married, and they may well have had strong feelings towards those other people—feelings, sometimes, more intense than what they felt for their spouse when they went to the chupah. Yet, they go on to build beautiful marriages. And equally telling, many, many couples get married not really being that “infatuated”. Yet they create strong loving relationships.

The reason these couples succeed isn’t because infatuation isn’t important – it is. But, it was designed to play a specific role. To understand that role, we need a deeper perspective of the human.

Chapter 5-Love Doesn’t Conquer All

Ask a typical, single guy what he expects his marriage will be like, and he’ll get this far-off look in his eye, as he says: “Oh, it will be wonderful! I will love her, she will love me, and we’ll live happily ever after.”

This same young man may come from a broken home. He may have lived through years of fighting, screaming, and cursing. He may now have a difficult relationship with his parents and siblings, and may have ongoing run-ins with roommates and friends. He may even be aware that he is a difficult person — but it won’t matter — his marriage will be harmony and bliss. “My wife will love me, I will love her, and we will live together in happiness and joy forever and ever.”

Unfortunately, the divorce courts are filled with such couples. But what went wrong? They started out so in love. He was great. She was perfect. What happened?

What happened was that when they got married, they weren’t in love – they were infatuated. That infatuation wore off, real life set in, and they weren’t ready for it.

Infatuation is like a drug. It affects your senses and changes the way you view things — so everything is wonderful. The whole world is smiling on you. Scientific studies show that falling in love affects brain chemistry in a manner similar to cocaine use; the normal balances are changed. The result is that a couple “in love” experiences a rush of adrenaline, a sense of euphoria, and the feeling that they will always be happy together. “Her bad habits will never bother me. She will always be tolerant of my being late. And, we will live forever and ever in this state of bliss.”

Infatuation Plays an Important Role

Hashem created infatuation to allow men and women to get married and create long-standing, loving homes. But, there in lies the problem. To take two individuals from different backgrounds, with diverse natures and upbringings, put them together for a short time, and then ask them to live together for the rest of their lives in peace and harmony, should be impossible.

In all relationships, differences of opinions tend to escalate, feelings eventually get hurt, and after enough time the liaison ends. Most business partnerships end with a fight. Most friendships weaken as people go their separate ways. And the institution of marriage should never work.

To allow marriages to succeed, Hashem gave mankind the capacity of love. When a couple is in love, they operate in a climate of acceptance and understanding.  They overlook each other’s shortcomings, and ignore their partner’s flaws. She is forgiving. He is tolerant. Differences don’t matter. Disagreements are rare. Your way. My way. What difference does it make anyway. And the marriage thrives despite what life throws at it. The heart blood of a successful marriage is love.

But love isn’t instant. Learning to give doesn’t’ come naturally.  And, real dedication to another person takes a long time to develop. To allow marriages to flourish, Hashem created certain forces to jump-start the relationship.

One of these forces is infatuation. Infatuation works like sulphur on a kitchen match. When you strike a match against the phosphorous on the match box, it will ignite into a flame. It gets very hot, very quickly. For a second or two, it will flare up, just long enough to light the wood of the match. That flame, however, wasn’t designed to last. It was meant to be a catalyst to start the fire, not to keep it going. If the wood catches, it succeeded in it’s job, if not, it shined bright for a while, but accomplished nothing.

Infatuation works the same way. It allows the couple to begin; it starts the process, but they must then do the difficult work of creating a true bond of love. They need to become attuned to each other’s needs; they have to learn to actually care about each other, and the hardest part: they have to change those things that bother their spouse. Change isn’t easy. And, unfortunately, many couples never make the transition.

Often, their initial expectation was their downfall.  They walked in thinking, “We are in love, so everything will be beautiful and easy. Love will conquer all.” The problem is that they weren’t in love; they were infatuated. When the drug wore off, they woke up the same people they were before, and then the choice was either change or suffer. Many people never make those changes, and their marriages dissolve.

But here is the point: While infatuation is an important tool to help start a marriage, it isn’t the basis for a marriage, and it certainly isn’t a criterion for choosing a life’s partner. It is a short-lived chemical explosion, and if you use it as the indicator that “this is my bashert”, you might well be making a life’s mistake.

Where do we go from here?

Now we come to crux of the issue: I can’t use my wisdom to determine the right one for me, because it will never work. I can’t use my “falling in love” as a gauge either. So how can I know? How can I possibly decide which one is right for me?

Chapter  – Hashem wants us to succeed

The answer begins with the understanding that Hashem wants us to lead happy, productive lives. Hashem wants men and women to create loving, solid homes. And so, Hashem selects the ideal person for each individual, and guides us to that person.

Our role in the equation is to do our hishtadlus (effort). We use the system that Hashem has set in place, and do our part in finding that person. The only question is what is the correct hishtadlus for finding that person? How does Hashem want us to go about finding the one that He has chosen?

The first step is to recognize that Hashem has carefully chosen the ideal match for you and wants you to find him. But, that person might not look like any image that you have fashioned in your mind. He may not have the qualities that you think are essential, and he may come with other traits that you don’t think are particularly helpful.

And that’s the point – the point that most people miss, the point that causes so much misery – its not your job to know. You can’t know. That’s Hashem’s job.

Hashem is the wise and generous Creator. Hashem knows the future as He knows the past. Hashem knows better than you, what’s for your best. And Hashem has selected the ideal match for you. Your job is to go out and find him.

To make it easier HASHEM has given us an intuition to know who that person is.

The Chovos Ha’Levovos taught us that to help us earn a living, HASHEM implanted in us an inclination towards a type of work. So too, when choosing a spouse. Hashem gave us the instinct to recognize our bashert.

The system that we use to identify that person has two parts to it.

The Paper Test

The first is done before the two meet. Ideally, before anyone has seen anyone, and certainly before there is any involvement, or emotional investments, you take the “paper test.”

The paper test is: on paper, do they match? Are they looking for the same things in life? Do they share a similar outlook? Do they have the same aspirations for their home? If he intends to learn for the next six years, and she only shops in Sax Fifth Avenue – we have a problem.

What you are looking for at this stage is the type of things that they won’t find out on the date. Granted he might fall for her—but is that the problem?

This is also the stage where you look for things that you won’t see on the date. Is she emotionally stable? Does he have a drinking problem? Are there things in his past that might prevent him from being a supportive husband?

The paper test determines from an objective standpoint is this a good match. That doesn’t mean, “Do they have the same sense of humor?” “Are they equally intelligent?” “Are they similar in personality?” Those are compatibility issues— issues that only they can answer—and only in the second stage of the process.

Assuming that the two are holding in about the same place in life, and there are no skeletons in the closet, then they meet. Here, however, is where most people make their mistake.

The right word and the almost right word

Mark Twain used to say the difference between the right word and the almost right word is the difference between lightening and the lightening bug—a mighty big difference. In a similar sense, the difference between the way people date, and the way they should be dating, is often worlds apart.

The reason you meet isn’t because you are looking for “The best girl in Brooklyn” or for “the person with the best middos.” Nor are you searching for “the person you want to spend life with”. You are looking for the person who was chosen for you. Not the one who comes closest to your image of what you want. Not someone who’s tall or short, fat or skinny, smart or dumb, introverted or extroverted. You are looking for your bashert – and you don’t know what she looks like, what her personality is like, what type of family she comes from, or even what type of person she is. And there is only one way to know if she is the one—you take the Bashert Test.

The Bashert Test

The Bashert Test consists of meeting this person and seeing how you feel. Do you feel comfortable? Do you enjoy her company? Does it just sort of feel right?

Not deep, mad, passionate love. Not fire works being shot off rooftops. Not even “Wow!!!” Just does it feel natural? Your hishtadlus is to see if you feel an intuitive sense that this is the right one.

The questions to ask yourself are: Did I enjoy the date? Do I look forward to seeing her again? Does it sort of seem to click? If it does, that is the sign that she is the one destined for you—the one that Hashem has chosen for you. But that is the point, Hashem has made the choice, you are out there to find out which one Hashem has decided is best for you.

There need not be any high level emotionality. No heart palpations and no shortness of breath. (Those are sure signs of infatuation, which if anything may cloud your vision.) Just an inner sense of peace. A feeling that it’s natural. We enjoy being with each other. It somehow feels, like I’ve known her all your life.

When you have that feeling that this is the right one. You move forward with the confidence that that Hashem runs the world, and he has guided you to your bashert.

She’s Not What I’m Looking For

While this system may sound simple to implement—it isn’t.  Most people have such entrenched notions of what they need, and they won’t allow themselves to just let it flow. And it seems that no matter how much they try, they keep coming back to the same obstacle.

Chapter Beating the System

I got a call from a fellow who said, “Rebbe, you have to help me.”

“Sure, sure what’s up?”

“Well, I was set up with this girl, and I think that I am going to fall for her.”

“That’s great. So, what’s the problem?”

“What’s the problem? That’s the problem. She’s not what I’m looking for! I want a girl who… and he went on to list his “Mrs. Potato Head” qualities that he needed to be truly happy. He had a clear image of the kind of girl he was going to marry, and this young woman didn’t fit that picture.

But that’s the problem – he wasn’t looking for his bashert.. He was out looking for his choice—the woman that he fashioned in the image that he imagined, and nothing but that would bring him lasting happiness.

While this is a blatant example— often, the same thing happens in a far subtler manner. A person will have a feeling an inner feeling that this is the right one, yet, they won’t allow themselves to feel it because: I need someone smarter, or taller, or richer, or funnier, or more easier going, or more driven, or whatever imaginable attribute that people can think up. So they say no.

32 Reasons to drop someone

Because this happens so often, I hope you’ll excuse me for listing some of the more common “reasons” for saying no.

“He’s not smart enough.”

“He’s too smart.”

“He’s very smart, but not the kind of smart, I’m looking for.”

“His family isn’t good enough.”

“His family is too good.”

“His family is perfect, but I need a bal teshuvah.”

“I don’t like her looks.”

“She looks too good.”

“Her looks are great. But its not the look I’m looking for.”

Too tall. Too short. To smart. Too dumb. Too worldly. Too sheltered. Too narrow. Too broad. Too plain. Too fancy.   The list goes on and on.

Now you may ask, aren’t these things important? Good family, smart, and attractive? Aren’t they huge contributors to the success of a marriage? The answer is that they are incredibly important, and if you were putting together your Mr. Potato Head, I think you should grab a whole big bunch of all of them. But that is the point. You aren’t creating your bashert. You are searching for her. And you don’t know whether she is smart, or pretty, comes from a good family or not. There is only one thing that you will ever know about her—that she is one that Hashem picked for you. The way you tell that is by allowing your heart to tell you.

Doesn’t attraction matter?

But, don’t I have to think she’s pretty?! How can I marry a woman if I don’t feel that she’s attractive? The answer is Yes, you should be attracted, and if you not, and that bothers you, it might be an indicator that she isn’t the right one for you.

But it might not be, and here is where things get tricky. If you like this woman, but don’t feel attracted; you enjoy the dates, but it just seems kind of flat. You have a question, and you should speak to someone older and wiser for advice. The fact that you aren’t attracted to her may be a sign that she isn’t right for you.

However,only too often what happens is that, it turns out that she is pretty enough for him. But, she  not pretty enough for… his sisters… his mother… his buddies… or, his Hollywood notion of what a wife should look like. And so he won’t allow himself to feel that attraction.

And this doesn’t only happen to guys.  A woman will be going out with someone, and she’ll say, “It’s going well, but… something is blocking me. I just can’t commit.” It may well be that this isn’t the right person for her. However, there are many times that she is stopping herself from feeling that it’s a good fit because: (and now fill in the blank). She doesn’t think he will be successful; she doesn’t like the family he comes from; she doesn’t feel that her brothers will respect him. Or, what will her friends think? Or her aunt? Or her dorm counselor? Or a whole host of other reasons, that only she knows.

That is when she needs help sorting out what her feelings, and she should speak to someone older and wiser for direction. (Older means older, and wiser means wiser. Only too often I have asked a 19-year-old girl, if she asked advice before deciding to end the dates. And she said, “Absolutely. I asked my friend, and she’s married, so she knows. “I see, and how old is this friend of yours?” “Why, she’s at least twenty.”).

All of these blockages can be bypassed if a person focuses on the viewpoint that Hashem created this world and runs it. Hashem has chosen for me the perfect life’s partner, and Hashem wants me to find him. He might not fit my detailed, preconceived idea of what it is I think I need, or what it is I want, but that person is the one that’s best for me.

The proper way to go out is to forget all the criteria, the laundry lists, the needs and wants, and ask only one question: How do I feel about this person? Not is she the best girl I can get? Not even is she the best one for me? Not even do I see myself twenty years from now being happy with her.

How do I feel now? Is there a certain comfort level? Does it just seem to be right? If she passed the paper test, and the answer to this question is yes, that that is the sign that this is the right person. This is the person that was predetermined by Hashem to be for you. And you have done your proper hishtadlus.

Now you move forward with confidence and reassurance. Not confidence that you have chosen well, not reassurance that your wisdom or good luck has brought you to this point. Confidence and assurance that Hashem has predetermined the one that is right for you and brought her to you.
This is a clipping from the new Shmuz book:

Finding your Bashert: A User’s Guide to Avoiding Misery and Heartache.

HASHEM answered Yitzchak’s prayers and not Rivka’s
The Imahos were all barren. Not simply incapable of having children, they lacked the very organs to necessary to conceive. Knowing this, Yitzchak and Rivka davened for a miracle. They each stood in their opposite corners, imploring, entreating, and begging HASHEM to allow them to have a child. After twenty years of pleading, HASHEM granted the miracle — Rivka became pregnant.

However, the posuk says: HASHEM listened to his prayers. Rashi makes the observation that it was to his prayers that HASHEM listened and not to hers. Rashi explains that this is because Yitzchak was the son of a tzaddik, whereas Rivka was the daughter of a rasha (wicked person). Since there is no comparison between the prayers of a tzaddik who is the child of tzaddik to the prayers of a tzaddik who is the child of a rasha, HASHEM listened to his prayers and not to hers.
Wasn’t Rivka greater because she overcame her upbringing?
The problem with this Rashi is that we know that a person isn’t judged according to where he is now, but according to where he came from. The fact that Rivka came from “lowly stock” and yet managed to overcome her upbringing is to her credit — she is even greater because of it. In fact, just one posuk earlier, we are told that Rivka was the daughter of Besuel, the sister of Lavan, and from a city of devious people. Rashi explains that the Torah repeats her lineage there to show to us how great she was: “Even though her father was wicked, even though her brother was wicked, and even though she came from a town of wicked people, she was righteous.” Precisely because she came from the house of wicked people and wasn’t negatively influenced, she was considered greater than if she had been born into a house of holy people. Yet here we see that because she came from the house of wicked people, her prayers weren’t accepted. This seems to be a direct contradiction.

Two systems of merit: who I am vs. who my father is
The answer to this seeming inconsistency is that there are two systems involved in weighing a person’s merits. The first system is based on the individual: Who am I, and what have I accomplished in this world? Based on where I started, based on the talents and abilities given to me, how far did I go? How much did I change? That is the system that is used to measure me when I leave this earth. Who am I now, compared to who I was when I started?

However, there is a second system that comes into play when a person stands in front of HASHEM during davening.

The following parable helps us understand this system. A loyal friend of the king had a son who turned to bad ways. When petitioning the king to have mercy, he won’t present his case based on the merit of his son – he asks the king to remember who he is. He asks the king to remember all the years of loyal service that he provided, to ignore the faults of his son, and to remember the love and devotion that he has proven to the king.
When the son of a tzdadik stands in front of HASHEM
So, too, when the son of a tzaddik comes in front of HASHEM, it may well be that his merit alone isn’t sufficient to change the judgment. Based on his merit alone, he may not deserve whatever it is that he is requesting. But the merit of his father who stands for him carries him far beyond his own arguments.
Rivka stood alone
When Rivka stood in front of HASHEM, she was a very holy woman, but as great as she was, her merit alone was not sufficient to bring forth the type of miracle needed. When Yitzchak stood in front of HASHEM, he was effectively twice as tall as Rivka because his own merit and the merit of his father were working for him. It may well be that Rivka herself was greater because she had overcome the obstacles of her father’s house, but in terms of asking mercy from HASHEM, she stood alone. Therefore, HASHEM listened to Yitzchak’s prayer and not to Rivka’s.

What right do I have to expect HASHEM to listen to me?
This concept has great relevance to our lives. There may be many times when we think about approaching HASHEM for help and may say to ourselves, “Am I worthy? Do I have the right to ask, let alone expect HASHEM to grant this request? Am I so great that HASHEM should change the course of events for me?” And the answer may well be no – our merit alone is not sufficient. Based on who we are, based on what we have done, it may very well be that we have no right to expect these things from HASHEM.

However, Chazal were very wise when they crafted our tefillos; they are based on invoking the merits of the Avos. When we make requests from HASHEM, we begin by asking in the merit of Avrohom, Yitzchak, and Yaakov. As children of the Avos, we request that HASHEM remember their righteousness and answer our requests in their merit, not our own. By ourselves, we may not merit health, well-being, or parnassa, but we ask that in the zchus of our forefathers, HASHEM have mercy. Understanding this concept can help us relate to the unique power and effect that our tefillos can have, well above what we may be entitled to.

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No sooner did Eliezer finish this request than Rivka appeared at the well. Eliezer said the words, “Please give me to drink,” and Rivka answered, “I will give your camels as well.” She then moved with such alacrity and enthusiasm that Eliezer was astounded. He was so certain that she was the right one that he immediately gave her the golden bracelets, formally engaging her to Yitzchak. Only later did he ask her name to find out that she was, in fact, from Avrohom’s family.
When telling Lavan, Eliezer changes the order
When Eliezer met Lavan and Besuel, he told over the events exactly as they transpired, but with one change. He said, “First, I asked her name and then I gave her the bracelets.”

Rashi, in explaining why Eliezer changed the order, explains that Eliezer was afraid that Lavan would never believe him if he said that he first gave the bracelets and then asked her name. He would assume Eliezer was lying. Therefore, Eliezer reversed the order, “First, I asked her name and then I gave her the bracelets.”

Eliezer wasn’t afraid to say a miracle happened to him
This becomes difficult to understand when we recall that just a few moments before this, Eliezer told Lavan of a striking miracle that had occurred to him. When he began telling over the events, he started with the expression, “Today I left, and today I arrived,” recounting a startling phenomenon.

Avrohom lived many days’ journey from Charan. Eliezer had said that he set out from Avrohom’s house that very morning and arrived the same day. It was physically impossible for Eliezer, who was traveling with ten camels laden with goods, to have covered that distance in such a short time. Chazal explain that he had a Kifitzas Ha’Derech. The land literally folded under him like an accordion so that his few steps took him over vast distances, something so supernatural that it is hard to imagine.

Apparently, he wasn’t afraid to tell this to Lavan. He didn’t assume that Lavan would call him a liar. Yet he was afraid to mention that he trusted that HASHEM had brought him to the right woman for Yitzchak. The question is — why? If Eliezer felt that Lavan could believe that HASHEM did miracles for him, why couldn’t Lavan believe that Eliezer trusted HASHEM?

Seeing the whole world through my eyes only
It would seem the answer is that Lavan lived by the golden rule: Do onto others before they do you in. Lavan was devious, deceitful, and lived a ruthless existence. Because he was untrustworthy, he didn’t trust anyone else, either.

Lavan assumed that since he was too smart to trust anyone, then anyone who “had brains in his head” would never be so foolish as to trust. He saw the whole world through his eyes. The idea that someone could trust HASHEM was something he couldn’t accept. Miracles, as unlikely as they may be, he knew could happen. But for someone intelligent to actually trust — that couldn’t be.

Lavan was engaging in what is known as projection: projecting his worldview onto others, assuming that the way he was, the way that he approached life, is the same way that all others do. He could never accept that someone would let his guard down and actually trust. Therefore, Eliezer was afraid to mention that he acted with complete trust in HASHEM. He knew Lavan wouldn’t believe him and would assume he was lying.
The way we see the world
This concept has great relevance to both the way that we relate to others as well as the way we relate to HASHEM.

If a person is a giving and caring individual, it is easy for him to see the good in man. If I am a giver, then intuitively I see that in others. I assume their motivating force is generosity. However, if I am self-centered, then I tend to see that as the driving force in others, and the nature of man appears to me to be dark.

This concept applies to our relationship with HASHEM as well. Often times we find it difficult to discern the kindness of HASHEM. Where is the chessed? Where is the loving generosity that HASHEM is reported to exhibit throughout Creation?

The more that I practice doing for others without expecting anything in return, the more I can see that quality in the way that HASHEM created and runs this world. The more that I train myself to be a giver, the more accurately I learn to see giving in HASHEM.

Quite simply, my character traits and personal bias shape not only the way that I act towards others, but the very way that I view the world. My view of people, my view of those close to me, and ultimately my view of my Creator are based on my perception. My perception is based on me — who I am, how I act, and how I think. The more that I adopt the nature of a giver, the better a person I will become, and additionally, the more easily I will identify that same trait in others and in HASHEM. The whole world takes on a different view.

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Still, we were newly married and money wasn’t plentiful, so when I discussed the idea with my wife, she was a bit hesitant, but said, “If you feel it’s a good idea, go ahead”. So we agreed that the next day I was going to invest two thousand dollars in the initial public offering.

That night, for some reason, my wife turned to the business section of Newsweek and read an article about Amazon. “Jeff Bezos has a million dollars in personal credit card debt… ..He is asking 15 dollars a share… …The company has nowhere near that market value…” on and on the article ragged against the stock.

My wife brought the piece to me, “What do you want to do?” She asked. “What do you want to do?” I responded. “I think it’s just too risky.”“OK, fine.” And I didn’t purchase the stock.

Let’s imagine for a moment that I had. And let’s say that I had held onto those shares till today. The last time I counted, those two thousand dollars were worth 1.4 million dollars. 1.4 million dollars is a tidy sum of money! Not that we lack, but I can think of some clever things to do with 1.4 million dollars. Ah, shucks!

Ah, shucks! Is a lack of Bitachon. Ah, shucks means, if only I would have convinced her. Why didn’t I push harder…? I should have…

However, if I accept that on Rosh Hashanah HASHEM decrees how much money I will make that year – that means that I accept that HASHEM decrees how much money I will make that year. A lot or a little. A huge fortune or whatever. But that is the point. HASHEM is in charge. He runs the world. He knows what is best for me and he orchestrates events as He sees is for the best.

And so, for some strange reason my wife just happened to read that section of Newsweek, the very night before I was to buy those shares. Even though, she doesn’t normally read the business section. And even though Time magazine had a very different take on the situation, and had she read that article, she would have had a different opinion. But she read that article, at that time, and brought it to my attention because that money wasn’t supposed to be part of my future.

This is a critical factor in learning to trust HASHEM. Whether I recognize it as good or not, I trust that HASHEM knows better than I, and HASHEM orchestrates the events of my life for my good.

In this case it doesn’t take a rocket scientist to recognize why a young fellow in Kollel might be better off without 1.4 million dollars. But that is the point. One who trusts in HASHEM has no regrets. No could have. Should have. Would have. “Oh, I should have invested in real estate in the eighties!” Why didn’t I buy gold when it was up!?” Why didn’t I get out of the market a year earlier”? All of these are the words of a person who is in this world on his own – a man who enters the uncertainty of a volatile marketplace – alone. And then suffers regrets. Regret that he didn’t buy more. Regret that he didn’t get that lucky break. Regret that he chose what he chose.

If I wasn’t sensible or if I didn’t do my due diligence then there is plenty of room for regret. But that regret is because I failed. I wasn’t wise. I didn’t act as I should have. But assuming that I was judicious, and prudent, then I have full trust in HASHEM. HASHEM directs every transaction. HASHEM knows better than I what is for my best, and HASHEM orchestrates events towards that end. And therefore there is no remorse, no regret.

Satellite communications, instant access to information, global positioning satellites—so many technological wonders that a generation ago weren’t even science fiction are now just a given.

While this is clearly a blessing, it comes with a cost. These wonders have become so ordinary and expected that they’ve lost their impact. Each development, when first brought to the marketplace, creates a buzz. “It’s amazing,” “Astonishing,” “Wondrous.” But within a moment of time, we become accustomed to it. “Of course, I have one. Doesn’t everybody? How could you live with out it?” Eventually, we no longer even notice what we once marveled at.

Who could imagine living without computers? Who could survive without air conditioning? Is it possible to be in business without a hand-held miniature telephone that instantly connects you to anyone across the globe?

It almost seems like ancient history, when getting lost was a part of life. Women asked for directions. Men didn’t. Husbands were to blame for not knowing how to read a map. And wives were always complaining, “You should have written it down. Why didn’t you ask before we got into the car?”

Along comes a little device. Plug in your destination and voila! The built-in genie guides you: “Bear left. In five hundred feet, turn right… ”

When the first GPSs were released, there was a sense of “Wow! This is magical. How does it know where I am and where I want to go?” But that was yesterday. Now, it’s a given. Just part of the landscape.

Yet if we stop to think about many of the “common” things around us, they are astounding.

Distance
As an example, let’s look at distance.

If you are sitting in the back of an auditorium and you get called up to the stage, it might take you twenty seconds to get there. A painfully long time if all eyes are upon you, but when measured in terms of distance – a mere two hundred feet. The distance between New York City and Tel Aviv, however, is of a different magnitude. Even flying at five hundred miles an hour, it takes twelve hours to arrive because six thousand miles is such a great expanse.

Yet, in terms of measuring distance, continents aren’t considered remote. From the earth to the moon is approximately two hundred and fifty thousand miles. And from earth to the sun is roughly ninety-two millions miles—a gap so large that it is difficult to relate to.

To get a sense of how far that is, let’s look at an interesting fact. The main source of light, heat and energy on earth is the sun. Scientists estimate that the core temperature of the sun is 17 million degrees. If you were to take a single grain of sand, heat it to that level and bring it back to earth, it would cause everything within a sixty-mile radius to erupt into flame. Even a speck of matter that hot contains so much energy that it would consume everything around it.

Yet the sun is so far off in space, that the rays of light emanating from it spread out, and only a fraction of them enter our atmosphere, and are converted into energy. And so, the temperature on earth can sustain life.

What would happen if the distance were less? Say 25 million miles? The heat on the planet would rise, radically. Rocks tend to melt at four thousand degrees. And life would cease to exist. However, because we are so distant from the sun, the energy dissipates – only 2 billionth of 1 percent of it reaches us—and it is a nice balmy 75 degrees in the spring.

A Yardstick for Measuring Space
When it comes to the known universe, though, distances like these aren’t even noticeable. In fact, objects in space are so far apart, that measuring them with miles is so cumbersome that it’s like measuring the distance between NYC and Los Angeles in inches. A different frame of reference is needed, so the speed of light is used.

Light travels at approximately 186,000 miles a second. If you mark the time that it takes for light to travel from an object in the sky, you can calculate its distance. Simply take the seconds, multiplied by the minutes, the hours, the days, and multiply that by 186,000 miles, and you’ll know how far off the object is. Using this system, from the earth to the moon is a mere 1 ¼ light seconds. From the earth to the sun, just eight minutes. And now we can put the universe into perspective.
The star closest to the sun is Alpha Centuri. Light travelling from it takes 1500 days to arrive here. It is so far away that light hurtling at 186,000 miles a second takes more than four years to bridge the expanse.

But Alpha Centuri and our sun are not the only stars in the universe. The night sky sports a vast array of stars, stretching out as far as the eye can see. Astronomers estimate that in the Milky Way galaxy alone, there are over a hundred billion stars. Each one is as powerful as our own sun. And most as distant from their neighbor as is the sun to Alpha Centuri. All of this unfolds across a span of empty space that baffles the mind.

But of course, the Milky Way is not the only galaxy in the cosmos. There are others. Many others. And here is where things start to get interesting. To help us understand the size of the cosmos, scientists use a parable. If you were to compare the Milky Way Galaxy to the rest of the known universe, it would be similar to comparing a coffee cup to the United States of America! There are over a hundred billion galaxies, each containing over a hundred billion stars, spreading across 13 billion light years of space – that is ever expanding.

While this is astounding, you might ask, “What does it have to do with us?”
The Moment Before Creation
It has a lot to do with us, when you think about the moment before Creation, when  all of this wasn’t. The universe wasn’t. Space wasn’t. Earth wasn’t. Matter and energy weren’t. Hashem said, “There should be,” and it became.

While this concept certainly isn’t new to us, it’s not as simple as it seems. As an illustration: if you close your eyes and imagine what it was like before Hashem created the world, what color do you see? Most people answer, “Black. A sort of vast, black void.” Black, however, is a color. Void implies absence of something. Before Creation, there was nothing. No molecules. No atoms. No quarks. And no color.

Complete emptiness. Absence of physicality.

And then, from nowhere because there was no “where,” from nothing because there was no thing – Hashem said the words, “It should be!” And it was. Physicality began.  Matter. Energy. Light and darkness. Then, animals, plants and trees, birds in the sky, and fish in the sea, rivers and oceans, mountains and skies, the moon the sun and the stars—all sprang into being

The concept of creation from nothing requires a leap of understanding. When man builds a house, he claims to have made something new. Yet he created nothing. The wood was already in existence. The rocks were already formed. Along comes man with a shovel and ax, moves things around, and claims that he created something new. Yet all he did was rearrange things already created.

Hashem alone is the Creator. From nothing, He brought forth everything. And He alone maintains physicality. When a person contemplates this, he can, on some level, understand the greatness of Hashem. By studying the Creation, we gain an eye glimpse into the Creator.

This is a first, critical step that a thinking person needs to take to relate Hashem.

The Blima Exercise
Nevertheless, this will only take a person so far. Because it is a so far away, it’s difficult to really feel, and so it’s limited in its effect. If you want a more tangible sense of the power of our Creator, try a simple mussar exercise.

On a nice sunny day, go to your local bowling alley, and pick up a black, shiny bowling ball. Then, say the words, “Blima, blima, blima.” Now, take the ball in your left hand and hold it out to your side, at shoulder height, for say—ten minutes.

It is vital that you hold the ball out to the side when you do this, because after about three seconds, it will come crashing to the floor. Saying the words, “blima, blima, blima,” won’t suspend a sixteen-pound bowling ball in the air.

Which brings us to a critical point. Our local planetary system is made up of eight planets orbiting around the sun. And then, vast emptiness. Light years of unfilled space. What stops the earth from just slipping away into that blackness?

Keep in mind, this planet is very heavy – it has all kinds of stuff on it. Rivers and mountains, forests and deserts, office buildings and full sized SUV’s. Why don’t we just float off into space?

If we did, what would happen? At 120 million miles, it would start to get very cold. At about 180 million miles, the temperature would drop to -250 degrees. If you’d drop a tennis ball, it would crack. As we get close to 250 million miles, the temperature would plummet to -475 degrees, absolute zero. And life on earth would end.

Why doesn’t this happen?
Newton’s Law of Gravitation
The answer, of course, is gravity. Mass generates a force that attracts other bodies to it. As both the earth and the sun have mass, together they form a gravitational attraction that keeps the earth where it should be.

Isn’t that amazing? A force so powerful that it holds an entire planet in place, yet you can’t see it or touch it. You could walk right through it and not even know it was there. But there it is – everywhere. Throughout the galaxies. Throughout the cosmos. Affecting all movement.

In Rosh Hashanah davening, we say “Toleh eretz al blimah,.” “Hashem, You suspend the earth on blimah.”That’s a combination of two words—bli mah, “without anything.” When Hashem created this world, He created all of the rules that govern it: physics, chemistry, quantum mechanics, and the laws of gravity.  We tend to take it for granted, but it is astonishing.

The Next Step
There is, however, one more step. The earth has mass, so it exerts a gravitational force. The sun is more massive, so it generates a more powerful force. The earth pulls at the sun, and the sun pulls at the earth. So why isn’t the earth pulled ever closer to the sun?

Imagine that it were. At 45 million miles, rock starts to melt. At 15 million miles, the core of the earth expands. Closer. Closer. Closer. Then, BOOOOOOOOOOOOM!!! Planet Earth explodes.

Why doesn’t this happen?

The answer to this question is also basic, but not as well known: something known as centrifugal force. One of Newton’s laws is that a body in motion tends to remain in motion, unless acted upon by another force. The earth is in constant motion, spinning around the sun. That movement exerts an outward force, pulling along the circumference of its orbit. This is its centrifugal force. (Kind of like when you hit a tetherball. The ball wants to go straight, but the rope pulls on it, so it circles around the pole.) While the sun’s gravitational force pulls the earth in, the orbit creates a force that pulls outward, and the two forces balance out.

The key word here is balance. Precise, exact balance. The centrifugal force has to exactly match the gravitational force. If the earth were moving a tad slower, its centrifugal force would be weaker, and the gravitational force would overcome it, pulling the earth into the sun. If the earth were moving a tad faster, its centrifugal force would be too strong and would overpower the gravitational force, hurtling us out into space (colder, colder, and colder still).

Because the earth is moving at precisely the right speed, these two forces are in equilibrium.

The Other Planets
But of course, the earth isn’t the only body in our local planetary system. What keeps Jupiter where it’s supposed to be? What about Mars? What about Venus? The answer here as well is the balance of forces. But things get a bit tricky.

There are two factors that affect gravity: mass and distance. The closer two objects are, the stronger the pull. The farther apart, the weaker the pull. Since each planet is a different distance from the sun, each has a unique gravitational pull. And to maintain balance, each planet must be moving at a different speed.

For the earth, it means whizzing around the sun at approximately 67,000 miles an hour.  Jupiter, however, is further from sun, so its gravitational attraction is weaker and requires less centrifugal force. It orbits at approximately 29,000 miles an hour. Mercury, on the other hand, is closer to the sun and must move faster, so it orbits at about 107,000 miles an hour.

But here is where things get really interesting. Our planetary system consists of one sun and eight planets. Why doesn’t the entire system just float off into space? For that matter, why doesn’t the entire Milky Way Galaxy just drift?

Here again, the answer is centrifugal force. Our entire planetary system is in constant motion, balanced out against a counterweight in space. The Milky Way galaxy is hurtling through space at six hundred thousand miles an hour, perfectly balanced against an opposing force – 100 billion stars, all in motion, all at the correct speed. And 100 billion galaxies all doing the same. The entire cosmos—thirteen billion light years of planets and moons, stars and quasars, black holes and galaxies. All in motion. Perfectly balanced. Perfectly matched.

When one thinks about this, he should say, “That’s astonishing! Beyond words. Beyond imagination. And if this is the Creation, what does it tell me about my Creator?”
How One Comes to Love Hashem
The Rambam tells us the way that one comes to love Hashem is by studying the Creation. When a person perceives the vastness, the harmonious systems, the wonder of it all, he feels an immediate sense of awe and love for his Creator (Yesodei Torah 2:1.)

One of the challenges we face today is that because knowledge is so common, we are no longer moved by it. To live meaningfully, we need to renew a sense of freshness in what we experience. We need to put the “wow” factor back into our lives.  When we do, we have an unending source of inspiration. We constantly see Hashem in front of us.

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“And to the cattle Avrohom ran, and he took a young calf, soft and good, and he gave it to the lad, and he hurried to prepare it.” — Bereishis 18:7

Parshas Vayaira opens with a detailed description of a day in the life of Avrohom Avinu. Avrohom was 99 years old, and it was the third day after his undergoing the bris milah. He was in such pain that HASHEM changed the course of nature in order to protect him. On a typical day, Avrohom would spend much time and effort waiting on guests. Out of concern for Avrohom’s condition, HASHEM took the sun out of its normal course, making it unusually hot, so that there would be no travelers to trouble Avrohom.

However, if it could be, Avrohom befuddled HASHEM. As he sat there in his tent, he had more pain from not being able to serve guests than he would have had if he had been running around after them. Therefore, HASHEM sent three angels in the form of men to allow Avrohom to serve them as guests.

When Avrohom saw three men standing on the horizon, he ran out and bowed down to them, full face in the sand. He said, “Please do not pass by from me, your humble servant.” He then brought them back to his tent and ran to prepare food and drink for them. He ran to his cattle, took a “young calf, soft and good,” and had it prepared for them. He then stood over them while they ate.

A young, soft and good cow

As every word in the Torah has a specific purpose, Rashi is bothered by why the Torah deems it important to record three adjectives: “young,” “soft,” and “good,” when it describes the cow that Avrohom brought. He explains that this teaches us that Avrohom prepared three separate cows because he wanted to serve a tongue to each of his guests.

The Siftei Chachamim explains that the tongue has three sections. The tip is soft, the middle is fatty, and the back has varied textures. Avrohom wanted to be certain that there would be enough of each section so that each guest could eat as much as he liked, even if all three guests preferred the same section. To do that, he had to slaughter three cows to insure that that there would be enough of each part.

It wasn’t enough that he offered them a meal without expecting anything in return. And it still wasn’t enough that he served them himself. Standing over them in the heat of the day, he went to the great expense and bother of slaughtering three entire cows so that his honored guests would have only the best.

Didn’t Avrohom Avinu have better things to do with his time?

While this is a beautiful recording of the chessed of Avrohom, it begs a question: didn’t Avrohom Avinu have better things to do with his time?

At this point in his life, Avrohom was a great and wealthy man. He had hundreds of servants and an entourage of thousands of students and converts. No doubt, he had many important things to do, not the least of which was to teach his many, many students. Yet Avrohom Avinu stopped everything that he was doing, went to great efforts and spared no expense to serve them. Why did he stop his busy day just to take care of three regular people? We know that doing chessed is a wonderful thing, but it seems that this is a bit out of proportion. Why did Avrohom Avinu put so much emphasis on chessed, and why does the Torah record this in such great detail?

The significance of Chessed

The answer to this question is based on understanding what it is that HASHEM wants from man.

HASHEM is the Giver and wants to give of his good to man. HASHEM put us on the planet so that we can earn our reward in the World to Come — the ultimate good for man. There we can enjoy HASHEM’s presence, there we can bask in His glory, and there we can enjoy the ultimate happiness that man can experience.

That state of eternal bliss is achieved by being close to HASHEM. The closer a person is to HASHEM, the greater the joy and pleasure he can experience. A person becomes close to HASHEM by making himself like HASHEM as much as he can. All the mitzvahs of the Torah guide a person towards that level of self-perfection.

Avrohom was emulating HASHEM

Avrohom spent his life emulating HASHEM. Every waking moment of his existence was focused on making himself as much like HASHEM as humanly possible. From the time that he came to recognize HASHEM, he understood the loving kindness with which HASHEM created the world and continues to run it. Avrohom saw that the essence of all of HASHEM’s interactions with this world is chessed, so he set it as his goal in life to imitate HASHEM by doing for others as much as he could. As a result, chessed was the center point of his service to HASHEM and the focus of his life.

This seems to be the answer to the question on Rashi. Despite the fact that his servants could have taken care of his guests’ needs just as easily as he, Avrohom threw himself into this act with his whole heart. Just as HASHEM provides sustenance for every living creature, Avrohom was in his small part providing for the needs of others. This wasn’t something that could be just as easily done by someone else; this was pivotal towards his purpose in existence — because by doing this he was acting like HASHEM.

A lesson to us

This concept is a powerful illustration of the importance of helping others. When we see one of the greatest human beings who ever lived involved in what seems to be the most mundane of tasks, it demonstrates to us the significance of those deeds. By focusing on this, we will come to appreciate that Avrohom was engaged in the ultimate perfection of the human, the highest level that a person can function on. More than fulfilling a mitzvah, chessed is our way of being like HASHEM, the very reason we were put into this world.

It was late Friday night; I was walking to a friend’s house, when I heard a rustling in the bushes. I looked over, and in the shrubs I saw it – a street rat. I can’t say I jumped. I can’t say I ran. It was like being zapped with an electric shock. I just found myself fifteen feet away, in the middle of the street, with my heart pounding and blood racing.

I experienced the fight or flight response. When in danger, our body switches into emergency mode, and we get a surge of energy, that allows us to perform feats of strength well beyond our normal limits. The stories are legendary: A fireman lifts a burning beam that supports an entire wall. A climber trapped under a 1200 lb. rock, shoves the rock down an embankment. A mom lifts a car, freeing her trapped child. Feats of strength that under normal circumstances would be impossible.

While we recognize the adrenaline rush that brings on this state the actual process is astonishingly complex. To appreciate it let’s take a moment to look at the body.

The Human Body

On a mechanical level the body is a set of interacting machines. Each organ is a part of a system; each system is linked to other systems. The heart is the pump, delivering nutrients to the cells.  The liver is the food manufacturer, creating glucose—fuel to power the muscles. The kidneys are the filters, removing waste products. The lungs are the air movers, bringing in oxygen and transporting it to the blood. The muscles are the engines that do everything from aid in digestion to lift your arms, legs, head and chest.

Because each organ has a specific role, and functions in a particular manner, there must be over an overall guidance system, to regulate it.  For instance: The heart beats 100,00 times a day. What tells it how often to pump? How hard? At what rhythm? Glucose is a highly specific chemical formula. What tells the liver the appropriate chemical composition? What tells it where to store the glucose? And how to release it? What tells the lungs how deeply to breath and at what rate? What tells which muscles to squeeze and contract, and in what order, so that the diaphragm should lift and rise?

A specific area of the brain regulates each organ. Intricate nerve pathways signal the release of chemicals that control the balance and function of each structure. The neuro science and biochemistry of it fills libraries.

Systems Dependent Upon Systems

But things are a bit more complicated because; each system is dependent upon other systems for it’s functioning. The brain can’t function unless the heart provides it with blood, and the heart can’t function unless it is supplied with oxygen by the lungs. The liver can’t filter, unless the kidneys supply them with fuel, and the kidneys can’t provide fuel, if the digestive tract doesn’t break down food.  All of them are dependent upon the circulatory system to deliver nutrients and remove waste.

Each organ alone requires hundred of chemicals and many steps to insure its proper functioning. Each of those steps are made up of dozens and dozens of sub steps, and cascades of chemical reactions To keep all the systems and organs functioning in balance requires computer processing way beyond anything man has every designed.

Understanding the Fight or Flight Response

Because the fight or flight response engages almost every organ and system in the body, the complexity of the operation is baffling.

At the first hint of danger, early warning signals are sent to the brain, via the optic nerve, to the fear center, the amygdala; this prepares the body for action. If the danger is confirmed, the disaster center in the brain jump-starts the body. Nerve pulses are fired down the spinal cord to the adrenal glands just above the kidneys. The glands flood the blood stream with adrenaline, which boosts heart rate, and blood pressure. Blood now races to the muscles. Adrenaline also signals the liver to flood the body with glucose—blood sugar—for fuel. Blood is shunted away from the digestive tract, and other non-life saving areas, to allow for more in critical areas. The lungs are signaled to breath more quickly and deeply injecting more oxygen into the blood. The metabolism is quickened. The senses are all on high alert. The mind is hyper focused. The body is primed, ready to lift, run or fight.

ATP – Emergency Fuel for Muscles

But this isn’t enough. In life and death situation milli- seconds count. The body must respond immediately.  What kick starts the sprint to safety, or the powerful lunge, is instant energy stored in the muscles.

Long in advance of an emergency situation the body stockpiles energy—much like a high-energy battery—in the form of ATP – an energy molecule produced by burning glucose or fat. An emergency supply of ATP is housed in the muscles ready to turbo charge us on demand. For a few seconds that energy burst can turn a middle aged man into an Olympic sprinter, or a housewife into a power lifter. The supply only lasts about 4 seconds, then its consumed. But during that time, we are able to perform super human feats of strength—pushing the body well beyond its limits.

The dazzling part is that it’s automatic. It usually happens before our conscious mind even recognizes the danger. One minute you are calmly walking down the street —when in an instant—The eyes see, the brain responds. And, within a flash, mild mannered Clark Kent is transformed into Superman. Ready to save the day.

But, if we look into this bit further, we will see there is a lot more going on behind the scenes.

Looking into sight

If you think of an object – say a pen – your brain retrieves the object’s name, its shape, its function, the sound when it scratches across the page. Each part of the memory of what a “pen” is comes from a different region of the brain. The entire image of “pen” is actively reconstructed by the brain from many different areas. Neurologists are only beginning to understand how the parts are reassembled into a coherent whole. But it is a fantastically complex process.

We normally think of our senses in simplistic terms. We see. We think. We hear. We feel. We taste. But what’s actually going on is far more involved. Our mind is taking in sensory input and processing it—Making sense of what it is that are experiencing. Our brain decodes, assembles and then compares images that have accumulated over span of a lifetime to bring us a coherent version of the world. The steps involved in the process are remarkable.

Let’s take vision for instance.

When I looked at the bushes and saw that rat, what actually happened was:

I heard a rustling sound, then turned my head to see. The lens in my eye automatically adjusted to focus on an image. That image was projected onto the retina in the back of my eye. Cells in the retina converted that image into electrical impulses, which were sent along the optic nerve into my brain for decoding and deciphering. The question being: What is that object? Is it real? Is it a threat?

Now begins the process of perception. Every second a billion items of information is sent through the eye. Initially, everything that enters is a blur, with an untold number of patches of light and dark, contours and lines. Information is then send to different regions of the brain to piece together the images, refocus the eye for greater detail, and then interpret what it is that I am looking at. To do this, the supercomputer we call the brain, must goes into high gear.

The Visual Cortex

The first stop is the Thalamus. The raw information is brought here, and the first stages of recognition happen. Here the brain begins to collate and interpret the data, reaching some initial composites.

“Let’s see… that object is furry, has big ears, and a tail.  Hmmmmm… What could it be? Mickey Mouse has big ears and a tail… No. That can’t be it. He isn’t furry. Well, a cat is furry and has a tail… No. A cat doesn’t have ears like that… Hmmmm. I wonder what this is?”

A signal is now sent to the visual cortex. “We need help identifying this. It’s clearly an animal, but what kind? Is it friendly or predatory?” Signals are then relayed to the memory center, to access previous visual images.  Every image a person ever saw is burnt into a cell. These cells are inventoried by category, emotion and feelings. The catalogue of these cells is consulted to make a connection. Picture after picture is accessed until some recognitions form.

“Ah, look there’s my pet hamster, I owned when I was ten. Nope. Not him. What about this? It’s furry and has a tail. No, that’s a dog. Hey, what about this? Yeah. That looks right. I think that’s it. Yeah. But, hey, wait, that’s a… a… a RAT!” Since the visual image of a rat, was stored with severe emotions attached, it comes back with a red flag. As in “Watch out! This might be dangerous.”

Context

But, not all rats are a threat. It depends on a number of factors. Are they close by? Are they caged? Are they real? If I’m standing in the zoo, and the rat is behind a two inch thick piece of glass, I am not in harm’s way. So more information is needed.

Next, signals are sent to the Hippocampus to determine context.  “Where am I? Where are they? What are the circumstances?” The answer comes back. “I am standing alone, on a dark street, late at night. Not good.”

Now the major number crunching part takes place—putting it all together. The message comes in from the memory center, “Rat! Rat! Rat! This is not a drill! I repeat, this is not a drill”. The context center relays the word, “We are in a situation – without backup”. The thalamus then puts it all together. Rat. Night. Alone. TROUBLE! Immediate action is required!” It then fires off a signal to the crisis center of the brain, “Warning. Warning. Red Alert. Danger”. The Amygdala, the area that controls strong emotions is signaled. It shoots a message to the Hypothalamus, which then fires electrical impulses down the spine to the Adrenal Gland. Thirty hormones are released, sending commands to almost every system in the body. The heart and lungs are sent into overdrive. The brain is flooded with chemicals that focus attention. The pupils are dilated to allow in more light. The veins in the skin constrict to force more blood to the muscles (Causing the familiar goose bumps). The immune and digestive system are shut down to allow more energy to the muscles. The liver secrets glucose and begins production of replenishments. ATP in the muscles is released—and the body is ready for peak performance.

From start to finish how long does the complete process take?

About 3/10^th of a second.

We are looking at a system of extreme complexity. More sophisticated than the finest machines, systems or factories man has ever conceived. But, even at this level, we’re only scratching the surface of what is happening. To appreciate the complexity of this response we need to take a step back.

Parlor trick

Ask a smart eight year old the following riddle. Here’s a choice: Either I will give you a million dollars now. Or, I will give you a penny today, double that tomorrow, and I will double that amount each day for thirty days. Which would you chose?

Any self-respecting third grader would, of course, go for the million dollars. A million dollars is a huge sum.

That third grader, however, would have chosen poorly. Because if you take a penny and double it, then take those two pennies and double them, and keep doubling that amount, the base number that you are multiplying gets larger and larger, so that the sum increases exponentially. And 2 to the 30^th power equals 1.073 billion!

How the Brain Works

This concept is critical to understanding how the brain works. All brain activity is made up of neurons communicating with each other. A neuron is a tiny cell that acts both as a receiver and transmitter of messages. When a neuron receives a message, it passes it along to one of its neighbors via chemical signals. Those chemicals cause the next receiving neuron to fire off an electrical impulse.  One neuron signals the next. That neuron then signals the next. That one signals the next, onwards until the final destination is reached.  All communication is made up of transferring these signals from neuron to neuron along established pathways.

Here is the interesting part.

Each neuron has a number of endings through which it transmits and receives signals from its neighbors. It looks almost like a tadpole with tentacles or branches. Each transmitting neuron has many branches from which to send the signal. Each receiving neuron has many branches with which to receive the signal. Which branch receives the message makes all the difference in what the signal means, what part of the brain to send it to after, and what to do after that. And this is where things get complicated.

Since the transmitting neuron has many branches, it could send a signal through branch A, B, C, D, E, or F. The receptor neuron, as well, has many branches, and could receive the signal by branch, W, X, Y, or Z. Since each neuron is in close proximity to many other neurons, it turns out that there are many, many paths that a signal could be sent on.

Let’s think about this. If the brain were made up of only 30 neurons, the possible pathways that a signal could follow would be countless. But the brain isn’t made up of thirty neurons. A pinhead size area of the visual cortex contains up to 30,000 neurons. Each of those neurons can communicate with up to 50,000 other neurons. So the possible pathways aren’t 2 to the 30^th power. It is 30,000 to the 50,000^th power. A number so large that is inconceivable.

But of course there’s more to the brain than the visual cortex—a lot more. There’s the Amygdala, the Hypothalamus, the hippocampus, the neo cortex.  The brain is made up of a hundred billion neurons, each with as many as fifty thousand connections. The math works out to be: a hundred billion to the fiftieth power – a number so astronomical that it defies human comprehension.

The question

Here is the question. How does the signal know to go from this neuron to that one? From that one to that one? The possibilities are so vast, the path so winding, convoluted and complex. How does it know to follow this particular intricate path?

This question has baffled men of science for decades.

(By the way, what happens when you have a small misfiring? Just a few neurons firing in the wrong way, in the wrong time. If you have ever seen a man undergo a full-blown seizure, you will understand that electrical storms in the brain aren’t to be taken lightly.)

By far the most complex item in the known universe is the human brain.

Why is this significant to us? Because by studying the creation, we can gain an eye glimpse to the Creator. When we contemplate such wisdom, we begin to get inkling to the sheer brilliance and capacity of Hashem.

I would love to hear your thoughts on it.

Have a good Shabbos,

R’ Shafier

“And it was as they came close to coming to Egypt, and
Avram said to his Sari his wife, “Behold, now I know that you are a beautiful
woman.” — Bereishis 12:11

HASHEM told Avram to leave Charan and go to the land of
Cannan. When Avram arrived, there was a famine in the land, and he was forced
to go down to Egypt. While traveling there, he said  to his wife, “Behold, now I know that you are
a beautiful woman.”

Rashi, in the name of the Medrash, explains that up until
this point Avrohom Avinu didn’t notice his wife’s physical appearance. Because
they were traveling, the situation caused him to become aware of it, and he now
recognized that she was a beautiful woman.

This Rashi becomes difficult to understand when we focus on
why HASHEM created beauty in a woman.

Men are from Mars; Women are from Venus

Men and women are different in almost every way imaginable.
They speak differently, act differently, and have different value systems. It
would seem near impossible to take two individuals from different backgrounds,
with diverse natures and upbringings, put them together for a short time, and
then ask them to live together for the rest of their lives in peace and
harmony.

In all relationships, differences of opinions tend to
escalate, so feeling are hurt, and eventually the liaison ends. Most business
partnerships end with a fight. Most friendships weaken when people go their
separate ways. It seems impractical to expect the institution of marriage to
succeed.

To allow marriages to flourish, HASHEM placed within the
heart of man the capacity to form a bond of love. Love allows a couple to
overlook each other’s shortcomings, to ignore their partner’s flaws. It is the
glue that holds a marriage together.

To help form this bond, HASHEM created a number of
catalysts. One of these is a woman’s beauty. When a husband notices his wife’s
appearance, there is an awakening in his heart. He feels attracted to her, and
this increases the love and attachment he feels towards to her. This element is
so significant in creating that bond that a man is not allowed marry a woman
without first seeing her in case “she may be ugly in his eyes.”

The Torah’s approach to a successful marriage is not to
ignore the physical, but rather to understand that it is a tool to be used for
greater devotion and attachment of husband to wife. So how is it that Avrohom
wasn’t even aware of whether his wife was attractive or not?

The greatness of the Avos

The answer to this question seems to be that because of the
great level of spirituality they were both on, matters of physical beauty were
irrelevant. Apparently Avrohom was on the level of loving his wife totally and
completely for her inner beauty — for who she was as a person. The external
would neither have helped nor hurt. If her physical beauty would have added a
dimension to the love and devotion that he felt towards her, we have to assume
that he would have used it as such. Rather, it was something that wouldn’t have
added to the already powerful bond and attraction he felt towards her.

What we see from this is an amazing illustration of the
great spiritual planes the Avos and Imahos were on. To Avrohom and Sarah, it
wasn’t that the physical took a back seat; it was irrelevant; it didn’t weigh
in at all. They lived on such a pure level that they bonded as a couple with
complete and utter devotion, without any need of the physical drives that
HASHEM put into mankind.

The difference between a mile marker and the North Star

This concept has great relevance in our lives. We are told
that a person must say, “When will my actions reach the level of the Avos?”
Chazal teach us that to reach greatness, we must use the Avos as role models.
We are supposed to study their lives, see how they conducted themselves, and
emulate their ways.

However, there are two dimensions to the lessons that we
learn from the Avos. Some lessons are direct. We can see how they acted in a
given situation, and we attempt in our own lives to imitate those deeds. In
this mode, we use the Avos almost as mile markers to plan and measure our
growth.

The second type of lessons that we learn from the Avos are
much less direct. These lessons are not as much about how to act as they
are how to understand the greatness and the potential of the human. We
see the enormity of the Avos and Imahos, recognize how much they towered over
us, and we use them as a guide, a North Star against which we set our
compass.

When we see that people who walked this earth, ate, drank,
and slept as we do, yet reached levels that are almost beyond our
comprehension, we aren’t asked to imitate those actions, but to expand our
horizons. I am not expected to be like them, nor will I ever be asked to do what
they did, but if that is what a human is capable of, then it breaks through the
barriers of what I thought was possible. Their actions expand my understanding
of what is possible for me.

The physical in our own lives

It is important to remember that in our own lives and
marriages, physical elements are important. A wife should do her best to make
herself attractive to her husband, and a husband should do his best to make
himself attractive to his wife. We aren’t Avrohom Avinu and Sarah Imenu. Therefore,
we were given tools to help create a powerful attachment that withstands time
and the travails of life. Physical attraction isn’t the end goal, but it is a
key element and driving force in a successful marriage and a Torah home. At the
same time, it is important to have in front of us an image of what a human can
aspire to so we can set our goals for our own greatness.

“The Shmuz”, an engaging and motivating Torah
lecture that deals with real life issues is available for FREE at www.TheShmuz.com. The Shmuz on the Parsha
Book, a compilation on all of Chumash is available: at your local Sefarim
store, or at theShmuz.com, or at 866-613-TORAH (8672).

HASHEM told Noach that
his entire generation was wicked and would be destroyed. Only he, his family,
and certain select animals would be saved. When the flood actually began, the posuk
says that Noach and his family went into the Ark “because of the waters of
the flood.” Rashi observes that these words imply that it was the water
that caused Noach to go into the tayva, not Hashem’s command. Therefore,
Rashi says that Noach was “One who believed and didn’t believe.” On one hand,
he believed that HASHEM would bring the flood, but on the other, he didn’t
believe it would happen. Therefore, he didn’t actually go into the tayvah
until the rains forced him in.

This Rashi becomes
difficult to understand when we take into account some of the background of the
event.

Noach was a Tzaddik

Noach is called a
righteous man, so much so that HASHEM chose him to be the single person to
rebuild the human race. So how is it possible that when HASHEM told him there
would be a flood, he didn’t believe it?

This question comes into
sharper relief when we view the situation in its broader context. Many of the Rishonim
ask, “Why did HASHEM ask Noach to build the tayvah? If HASHEM wanted to
destroy the generation and save Noach, there are many ways He could have done
it. Why trouble this tzaddik to draw the plans, cut the wood, and fit
together the pieces? HASHEM could have miraculously saved him without Noach
having to become a carpenter.

Rashi answers that HASHEM
wanted to give the generation one final opportunity to do tshuvah. When
Noach would work on the tayvah, people would see him and ask, “What are
you building?”

“HASHEM told me He is
going to destroy the world,” he would answer. “The only hope is to repent. Do tshuvah.”

For 120 years, while he
was building the tayvah, Noach was on a mission to convince his
neighbors that HASHEM was going to bring a mabul and destroy the
inhabited world . . . unless they changed their ways.

With this, the question
becomes much stronger. Here we have a man whom the Torah calls a tzaddik,
whom HASHEM spoke to directly. He was told by HASHEM Himself exactly what would
happen. He then spent year after year preaching that very message to the
people. How is it possible that he didn’t believe it himself?

The nature of man

The answer to this
question is based on understanding the nature of man. When HASHEM created the
human, He joined together two divergent elements and fused them into one
entity. Part of me only wants to do what is right and proper, only wishes for
that which is good, and yearns to be close to HASHEM. That part of me, the Nefesh
Ha’Sichili or the spiritual soul, is untainted, pure intellect. It is the
part of me that understands exactly why I was created.

However, there is another
part of me, a Nefesh Ha’Bahami or a physical soul. This other part is
also vibrant and has needs, but its aspirations, drives, and desires only
relate to that which is physical. It only sees the here and now. In its world,
if I can’t hear it, feel it, or see it, it doesn’t exist.

When I engage in any
spiritual activity, these two components of me are in direct conflict. For
instance, when I daven, part of me feels a deep, inner yearning to grow
ever closer to HASHEM, and part of me is bored. Part of me is aglow because I
am connecting to my Creator, and part of me just doesn’t care. The Nefesh
Ha’Bahami doesn’t see HASHEM, can’t relate to HASHEM, and therefore doesn’t
have any connection to anything spiritual.

As long as a person lives,
there will be a part of his essence that denies the existence of HASHEM, not
because that part is rebellious, nor because it wants to do anything wrong, but
because it is incapable of seeing anything that isn’t physical. The more a
person grows, the more clearly he relates to his spiritual side, and the less
the Nefesh Ha’Bahami clouds his vision. However, as long as I am housed
in a body, this darkness remains a part of me.

The answer to Noach

The answer to the question
seems to be that Noach was a real believer. He had a powerful, unwavering
belief that everything that HASHEM said would happen, would indeed come true.
But that was only half of him. There was another part of Noach that didn’t see
HASHEM, couldn’t relate to Him, and couldn’t see anything beyond the here and
the now. That part denied that there would ever be a flood.

Even an ish tzaddik,
who spent 120 years engaged in teaching that HASHEM was going to bring a flood,
was still a human, and as such, he couldn’t fully see it happening. It wasn’t
until the rain started that it became real to him, and then he went into the tayvah.

The darkness of physicality

This concept is very relevant to us because no
matter what level a person has reached, there will always be a part of him that
denies anything spiritual. There will always be a part of me that feels alone
in this world because it cannot see HASHEM, nor even relate to anything that is
not physical. However, there is another full dimension of me that intuitively
knows that HASHEM is right here, running the world, involved in every detail of
my life.

Look for the new
Shmuz on Life Book now available at your local Sefarim store, or at the
Shmuz.com.

For more on this topic
please listen to Shmuz #28- “People Believe What they Want
to Believe”

“It is not in the heavens for you to say, ‘Who can ascend to the heaven for us and take it for us so that we can listen to it and perform it?’. . . Rather the matter is very near to you,  in your mouth and your heart, to perform it.” – Devarim 30:12-14

After many grave warnings against leaving the ways of the Torah, Moshe Rabbeinu tells the Klal Yisroel that learning and keeping the Torah is within easy grasp of each of us. “Acquiring it doesn’t require wings to fly to the heavens, and studying it doesn’t demand crossing oceans.” Rather, Torah is well within the reach of each person.

Rashi, in commenting on the words, “It is not in the heavens,” adds the explanation: “For if it were in the heavens, you would be obligated to go up after it to learn it.”

If only I had wings to fly

This Rashi is difficult to understand. Rashi’s role in Chumash is to clarify what the Torah means. As an aid to understanding, he may use examples and parables, but the goal is always to explain the pshat — the straightforward meaning of the posuk.

Not only doesn’t this comment help us understand what the Torah is telling us– it isn’t true. Since time immemorial man has dreamed about flying, but man cannot sprout wings and fly. How can the Torah expect the impossible from us? And even more, this explanation is the opposite of what the Torah is trying to tell us. The entire paragraph outlines how close the Torah is and how easy it is to attain it. What is Rashi trying to teach us with his comment, “If it were in the heavens, you would be obligated to go up after it to learn it?”

The answer to this can best be understood with a moshol:

An amazing feat of strength

In 1997 in Tallahassee, Florida, a young boy was involved in an accident, and ended up being pinned under the wheel of a car. Rescuers couldn’t help him; he was trapped. An onlooker, seeing the danger, rushed over, and almost without thinking, reached for the fender of the car, lifted it off the ground, and freed the boy – a feat of amazing strength.

The unusual part of the story is that the hero, the one who lifted the car, was not a trained emergency professional or some big burly fireman, but rather the boy’s 63-year-old grandmother who had never before lifted anything heavier than a bag of dog food.

The story became a media sensation and Dr. Charles Garfield, the author of a book of fantastic sports feats entitled Peak Performance, decided he wanted to interview her. However, she wasn’t interested in talking to him. She wouldn’t return his calls, and she did everything she could to avoid discussing the event. Finally, Dr. Garfield, being a convincing fellow, got her to agree to a meeting, and the reason she was reluctant to discuss the act turned out to be almost as amazing as the event itself.

During the discussion, the grandmother said she didn’t like to talk about the incident because it challenged her beliefs about what she could and could not do — about what was possible. “If I was able to do this, when I didn’t think it was possible, what does that say about the rest of my life? Have I wasted it?”

After further discussion, Dr. Garfield asked her what she would like to do. She explained that she had never had the opportunity to further her education after high school. So after some coaching, Mrs. Laura Shultz began college at the age of 63. She received her degree and then went on to teach science in a community college.

Our attitude determines our altitude

This story is illustrative of a very human tendency. Our understanding of what is and what is not possible creates imagined ceilings of opportunity for us. If I were smarter, I would have. . . If I were more talented, I could have. . . but I just can’t do it. Yet some people, who aren’t any more talented, who weren’t given all the breaks, just seem to plow through and somehow make the seemingly impossible happen. It almost seems that their attitude is their single greatest asset.

Eyes on the Prize

This seems to be the answer to this Rashi. The Torah isn’t telling us that we need to sprout wings and fly. Rather, this is a moshol for the drive that a person must have to succeed. If a person’s attitude is, “Whatever it takes. No mountain is too high, no obstacle too difficult. If it were up in the heavens, I would fly there,”  then he will reach heights. However, if that enthusiasm is lacking, no matter how close the Torah is, he will not acquire it.

You don’t need to fly to the skies, but you need be ready to. Once that drive is in place, nothing can stop you.

No matter what a person’s natural capacity and life circumstances, if he sets his goal as the attainment of Torah, HASHEM will help so that he can reach the stars. Is the journey difficult? While there are many challenges along the way, the ways of the Torah are pleasant, and a Jew has unique aptitude to absorb it. The only difficult part is setting our sights high enough and holding the course. However, if a person sets out with a drive to do whatever it takes, even if it means “flying to the heavens,” then HASHEM helps, and that person can reach his personal level of greatness on par with the greatest of Torah giants.

For more on this listen to Shmuz #61- Heros

“The Shmuz”, an engaging and motivating Torah lecture that deals with real life issues is available for FREE at www.TheShmuz.com. The Shmuz on the Parsha Book, a compilation on all of Chumash is now available for purchase either in your local Sefarim store, or at the Shmuz.com

“Because you did not serve HASHEM, your G-d, amid gladness and goodness of heart when everything was abundant.” — Devarim 28:47

The destiny of the Jews

At the end of a long prophecy of what will befall us if we don’t follow the ways of HASHEM, the Torah seems to lay the blame on one issue: because you did not serve HASHEM, your G-d, amid gladness and goodness of heart when everything was abundant. It seems the pivotal point of these two extremes is based on simcha.– Implying that serving HASHEM with happiness is critical to our success as a nation.

Rabbeinu Bachya explains that this is because the mitzvahs must be done with joy and complete devotion. When the mitzvahs are done without joyfulness, they are lacking in their effect, and this can be part of the spiral downward.

He then gives an example of a mitzvah that wasn’t done with complete motivation. The Medrash tells us that when Reuvain attempted to save Yosef from his brothers, he said, “Let us put him in the pit.” His intention was to buy some time to eventually save him. However, had he realized that he would be recorded in history as the one who saved Yosef, he would have put him on his shoulders and carried him home to his father. From here we see the importance of doing a mitzvah with complete dedication and commitment.

The power of Simcha

This Rabbeinu Bachaya is difficult to understand on two levels. First, how can the Torah command me to be happy? Being happy isn’t an emotion that we can turn on and off like a light switch.  And second, how can we compare the effect of doing a mitzvah joyfully to the case of Reuvain? We are well aware that honor is one of the most powerful driving forces in the human condition. Granted Reuvain was a tzaddik, but the fact that he would have been titled the savior of Yosef for eternity is something that would propel a man to extremes. How can that be compared to something as minor as joy in the performance of a mitzvah?

The answer to these questions can best be understood through a different perspective.

If I were a rich man

Sheldon G. Adelson, is the owner of Las Vegas Sands Corp. In 2003, his net worth was ranked at 1.4 billion dollars. While that is an impressive sum, it didn’t put him anywhere near the richest people in the world. However, when he took his company public, a rather interesting thing happened. His personal wealth increased by 750%. By 2004, his personal worth had increased to over 20 billion dollars, making him the fifth richest man in the world. Forbes magazine estimates that over those two years, Adelson’s fortune had been growing by $1 million every hour.

Imagine for a moment what it must feel like to know that your wealth is increasing at that rate. You sit down to a leisurely lunch and walk away a million dollars richer. Open a Gemarah for the daf HaYomi – there’s another $750,000. Lie down for a Shabbos nap; wake up three million dollars wealthier. What it’s like to be alive! Every moment I live, I become richer, and richer…. I can’t wait…

I have no plans of dying

The single most difficult concept that we human beings deal with is our mortality. While we are cognitively aware of it, emotionally we just don’t feel it will happen. With that emotional blindness comes blindness to the value of our actions. Since in our operating reality, I will never die, then what I do or don’t do really doesn’t matter.

If for a flashing moment, I were to see what the World to Come will be like for me, I would effectively lose free will. The extraordinary accomplishment of one mitzvah would so overwhelm me that I would be completely and radically different — not different physically, not smarter, but much more driven to accomplish my purpose in life. When Chazal tell us over and over again that mitzvahs are worth far more than the greatest treasures in this world, it is because they had that clarity. They understood what it will be like for each of us as we regale in our great wealth. In that World, we will look back at every chance we had to grow as the greatest opportunity ever given to man. We will look back at our mitzvahs, and they will bring us far more joy than earning than a million dollars an hour.

This seems to be the answer to Rabbenu Bachya. One of the greatest motivators in the human is enthusiasm. That enthusiasm is based on a value system. If I value money, I will be driven to pursue it, and the acquisition of it will bring me great joy. If I gain a deeper perspective on life, then I experience elation, knowing that my net worth in the World to Come is growing at an incredible rate. My investments are paying back in spades. That excitement is one of the most powerful motivating forces — equal even to kavod. With it, a person can reach great heights. Without it, a person’s avodas HASHEM can become stale and lose its potency, thus beginning a downward spiral.

Ultimately, joy is a great force that both allows a person to enjoy his short stay in this world and propels him to achieve the greatness for which he was created.

For more on this topic please listen to Shmuz #5 -  Appreciating our Wealth

“The Shmuz”, an engaging and motivating Torah lecture that deals with real life issues is available for FREE at www.TheShmuz.com. The Shmuz on the Parsha Book, a compilation on all of Chumash is now available for purchase either in your local Sefarim store, or at the Shmuz.com

“You shall not reject an Edomite, for he is your brother; you shall not reject an Egyptian, for you were a sojourner in his land.” – Devarim 23:8

Our attitude toward the Mitzrim

The Torah lays out our attitude and approach to the different nations and tells us, “The Mitzrim cannot be totally rejected because you lived in their country.” Rashi is bothered by this mixed expression. If we are supposed to be grateful for the good that the Mitzrim did for us, why use the expression “don’t reject them?” This doesn’t sound very appreciative.

Rashi answers that the Torah is teaching us precisely that point. Our attitude towards the Mitzrim should be mixed. On the one hand, we don’t forget that they threw our infant boys into the Nile. On the other hand, they did provide a home for us. So we have ambivalent feelings. We don’t completely accept them, but we can’t reject them either.

When we think about the background, this Rashi is very difficult to understand. Our stay in Mitzrayim was not pleasant. Tortured and bled, oppressed and hounded, the Jew was treated far worse than a beast of burden. We had no rights. We had no life. We couldn’t choose our destiny or protect our children. What possible debt do we owe to them?

But even more telling is that the Mitzrim weren’t doing us a favor by allowing us to stay in their land. We were the backbone of their economy. Their entire production was based on slave labor, and we were the slaves. They didn’t feed us for our good; they did it so that we could produce for them. They didn’t give us a place to sleep for our comfort; they did it so that we could be awakened at dawn, to the crack of the whip, to slave away in the sweltering heat. In plain language, we were property – owned by the Mitzrim, kept for their profit. Any good that they did for us was only for their selfish interests. Do we owe such people ha’karas ha’tov?

This question can best be answered with a moshol brought by the Chovos Ha’Levovos.

The ungrateful teenager

Two teenage brothers living in a grand estate are having a conversation. One says to the other, “Father is such a wonderful man! He is so generous with us, and so concerned for our good. Look at the entire program he has created for us – private teachers and tutors – all to benefit us. Everything that he does is focused on our betterment. I feel so grateful to him.”

His brother looks over and says, “Oh, I don’t know about that. First off, this getting up at 6:30 in the morning bit is a huge drag. And this whole ‘get an education routine’ is pretty lame. Not to mention five miles of running every morning! It’s just plain dumb! To tell you the truth, I’m not so sure he really has our good in mind at all. I think the old timer just wants to keep us out of his hair.”

What is the difference between the two teenagers? One is adopted; the other isn’t. You see, the adopted son grew up without. He knows what it means to suffer. Having had lived in an orphanage for two years, he knows what it is like to go to bed hungry, to sleep in a cold, dank cellar. When his adopted father took him in, everything was a vast improvement, so he has an unending sense of appreciation for what he now has. His brother, on the other hand, grew up in the lap of luxury. Since he first opened his eyes, all that he has ever known is comfort and abundance, and so none of it means anything to him. He is a spoiled brat.

I would be the first to thank G-d, if…

The expression ha’karas ha’tov is highly illustrative of this concept. The word ha’karah means to recognize, to discern. Chazal were teaching us that this issue pivots on perception. By nature a person is grateful; the difficulty lies in recognizing what we have to be grateful for.

This seems to be the answer to this Rashi. There is no question that the Mitzrim’s motivation when they were playing host to the Jewish nation was not for the Jews’ benefit but for their own. However, the Jews did benefit. For 210 years they had a land in which to live, food to eat, and a place to sleep. In that sense, their very existence is attributed to the Mitzrim. Granted the Mitzrim didn’t intend for the good of the Jews, but the Jews were the recipients of it. For that we owe a debt of gratitude – albeit mixed – but a debt nevertheless.

The Torah is teaching us that if I have received something, I must recognize that, even if it is a mixed blessing. Therefore, while we don’t completely welcome the Mitzrim into our midst, we can’t reject them either.

One of the most motivating forces in our avodas HASHEM is a sense of, “I need to pay back.” How can I not do everything in my power to pay back the huge debt that I have to HASHEM? However, this is based on my understanding of the sheer amount of good that I receive. Unfortunately, we are a bit like the spoiled teenager who has everything and therefore has nothing. It is difficult for us to thank HASHEM. It isn’t that we don’t have; it is that we don’t perceive it.

When I train myself to appreciate the great wealth that I enjoy, I gain an automatic sense of wanting to pay back. By doing this, I enjoy my stay in this world to a much greater extent, I am grateful for what others do for me, and I have an unending sense of appreciation for all that the blessings I have received from HASHEM.

For more on this topic please listen to Shmuz # 129 Ha’Karas Ha’Tov – Recognizing the Good

“You shall not pervert judgment, you shall not respect someone’s presence, and you shall not accept a bribe, for the bribe will blind the eyes of the wise and make just words crooked.” – Devarim 16:19

The mitzvah of appointing  judges

The Jewish nation as a totality was given the mitzvah of appointing judges. These judges were commanded to mediate with righteousness according to the Torah’s laws. One of the rules of a judge is that he may not accept a bribe because a “bribe will blind the eyes of the wise.”

Rashi is bothered by a question: the Torah already commanded the judges to rule honestly with the expression, “Do not pervert justice.” There is no need for a second prohibition against accepting bribery. The purpose of a bribe is to cause the judge to ignore the truth and change the verdict. That is certainly included in the requirement of not perverting justice. So why does the Torah write a second prohibition specifically warning judges not to accept bribes?

Rashi answers that the prohibition of not accepting bribery refers even to cases in which the judge fully intends to rule fairly. If a shofet plans to accept a bribe but not to allow it to influence his decision, the Torah forbids him from doing this. The nature of bribery is to pull his heart, and it is impossible to remain unbiased once he has received a bribe. The Torah is teaching us that even if he wants to judge honestly, it will be impossible for him to do so because once he accepts a bribe, against his will he will favor the one who bribed him.

This Rashi is difficult to understand. Assuming we are dealing with an experienced, skilled judge who is well-versed in law and the proceedings, why can’t he accept a bribe and still judge honestly? The facts are the facts. Either the man is guilty or innocent. Either he owes the money or he doesn’t. Why can’t a judge make up his mind that the money is the money, but I will not allow this to affect my ruling in this case?

The wind made it

The answer to this question can best be understood with a moshol. Imagine that you find yourself in a junkyard in the backwoods of Tennessee. You look around and see piles and piles scrap: old refrigerators, a rusted-out stove top, entire cars demolished. Everything is all strewn about without any order. Then suddenly you see something out of place: a brand new Dell laptop computer — red color, no less. You pick it up and you see that it is unscratched and in perfect working order. You turn to the owner of the junkyard, a rather primitive fellow, and innocently ask, “Where did this come from?”

“Oh,” he responds. “I don’t know if you’all heard, but we had us some fierce winds here last night.”

“Fierce winds?”

“Yeah, some real gusters. I come this morning and things ar’ all blown about. Then I sees that there computer. I rightly figure that them winds just blew the pieces together.”

You look at the fellow incredulously and ask, “The wind blew the pieces together?  “Sir, I don’t mean to be rude, but there is a monitor and a fully functioning mouse. I turn it on, and the fan kicks in. And the keyboard! How do you explain the keyboard? Look at it, QWERTY, in perfect order!”

This is a very apt parable. We will have conversations with intelligent, well educated people who will tell you that the world evolved. Everything that you see, from the flower to the bee, from the oceans to the mountains, rivers, planets, the sun, the moon, and the stars, all just sort of happened. No designer. No Creator. It just began with a Big Bang and all of the wonder of this infinitely complex world came into being. The uniformity, the complexity, the harmonious systems, the universal laws of physics, just happened. Just a lucky roll of the cosmic dice and a hundred billion galaxies, each one containing a hundred billion stars – just occurred.

These same people who tout evolution as a religion are also aware that life has exact rules. The simplest amoeba is far more complex than any machine ever devised by man, and a human baby is infinitely complex than an amoeba. The trillions and trillions of cells of the body are all specific, all organized into organs and systems with each one perfectly in place, each one playing its part. Every cell in the human body is directed by the DNA coding. The question is how can any thinking person possibly think that this just evolved? Who wrote the code?

The answer is that HASHEM created man with free will, free will to believe or not to believe, to accept or not to accept. With the capacity called free will was included this most amazing ability to accept the most far-fetched, ludicrous positions as long as it fits into my agenda.

This seems to be the answer for Rashi. The Torah is teaching us that the human may be brilliant and wise, but he has a weakness. His pure judgment can be easily influenced. If a man accepts a bribe, it will color his vision. He will lose his detached sense of judgment and will no longer be able to rule objectively. He may think that he won’t be influenced, but it is human nature to be pulled, and he will no longer be capable of objective clarity. He will be blinded.

For more on this topic please listen to Shmuz #22 – Evolution does it make sense?

“The Shmuz”, an engaging and motivating Torah lecture that deals with real life issues is available for FREE at www.TheShmuz.com. The Shmuz on the Parsha Book, a compilation on all of Chumash is now available for purchase either in your local Sefarim store, or at the Shmuz.com

In the times of castles and moats, there lived a princess. An only child, her life was to be one of comfort, lavishness and splendor from the cradle to the grave. She wore only satin and silk. She was served only the finest delicacies. She lived an enchanted existence until her twentieth year.

One day, the princess went for a walk in the woods and lost her way. Wandering for hours on end, she realized that she couldn’t find her way back to the castle. Exhausted, she lay down on the bare ground and fell asleep. She dreamed that she would never make it back home, that she was destined to spend the rest of her life in the woods.

She woke up with a start, looked around, and realized that it wasn’t just a dream; she was still in the forest. In a desperate panic, she ran — bumping, crashing, falling down and getting back up again. Hour after hour, she ran deeper and deeper into the forest… and further and further from the castle. Exhausted, she collapsed and again fell into a deep slumber. When she awoke, she realized that if she didn’t eat, she would die. She remembered that some of the berries and roots in the woods were edible, so she scrounged together some sort of nourishment and passed the time. Soon the days turned into weeks, and the weeks turned into months.

She Finds a Shack

After more than a year, her clothes tattered, her hair disheveled, she stumbled onto a clearing in the forest and saw what looked like a shack made of logs. She approached, slowly, cautiously… There were no sounds.

Silently, she circled the shack. It was empty. She opened the door, looked in, and saw a well-tended, primitive home with a table, chairs, and a fireplace. It looked like someone had recently been there. In the corner sat a wood-framed bed with straw for the mattress. Exhausted, and not having slept in a bed for over a year, she lay down and immediately fell into a deep slumber.

Many hours later, she awoke with a start, and saw a peasant standing over her. He was large, coarse, and darker than any man she had ever seen. But as shocked as she was to see him, he was equally taken aback by her presence.

A thousand thoughts raced through her mind. “Will he harm me? Who is he? Does he speak my language?” Before she had a chance to utter a word, he brought her a blanket and covered her with it. Out of absolute exhaustion, she fell back asleep.

When she woke up in the morning, she realized that she was alone again. The man was gone. She looked around the shack with its dirt floor, holes in the walls, and simple wood table and chairs. “It has almost a cozy look to it,” she thought to herself. Slowly wiping the sleep from her eyes, she noticed a bowl of warm porridge on the table. Famished, she wolfed it down.

Her eyes filled with tears as she thought back to what were now distant times — to her home, the castle, bedecked with the finest ornaments; to her wardrobe, made of the most delicate fabrics; to her bedding, the smoothest satin and silk. She got up and wandered outside.

The smell of spring was in the air, and freshness seemed to hang in the clearing. She stretched her arms and took in the sweet smells. When she opened her eyes, she realized the peasant was there — standing at a distance, watching her.

He slowly approached.

He opened his mouth to speak. It was her language, but crude and broken. He was a simple man — uneducated and unrefined. He was, however, kind. Every day, she found her food prepared, and every day he returned from the forest bearing gifts — one day flowers, the next day a bowl carved from wood.

Time passed, and she began to feel almost at home in this hovel. She even felt herself somewhat attracted to this man. She remembered that first night in the woods when she dreamed that her destiny was to spend the rest of her days in the forest. Slowly she made peace with her fate. Within a short time, they married.

Her life in the forest is most difficult. She spends her days weaving, sewing, peeling and cooking — everything done by hand. And the winters are so harsh: bitter and unending, month after month of frigid cold, and she must wear the coarsest of garments that scratch her skin, yet barely keep out the cold. The only source of heat in the cottage is the fire that dies down after a few hours. Most nights, she wakes up shivering in the cold, and then her mind turns back to her youth, to the life of splendor and luxuries that she always thought would be her future.

What makes it even harder is that while her husband is good to her, none of the things that he brings her makes her happy — they just don’t mean anything. He carves some beads, puts them on a string, and gives them to her, but her mind travels back to the pearls and diamonds that she wore long ago. He cooks some oats mixed with herbs for her, and she remembers the servants carrying in tray after tray of delicacies. Every gift fills her with melancholy as it pulls her back to an earlier life.

A Parable to Our Lives

The Mesillas Yesharim explains that this is a mashal (parable) to our lives. Part of me is the princess; part of me is the peasant. Each has its needs; each has its purpose. Part of me is a holy spirit that only seeks that which is noble, right and proper. It came from under Hashem’s throne of glory, where it enjoyed the most sublime existence. Being of pure intelligence, it desires only to be generous and giving. It aspires to greatness. It was put into this world on a mission and it recognizes the importance and significance of life. Everything great in man comes from this part.

I Am Both

One of the most elusive thoughts that seems ever to escape us is that I am a combination of these two elements. The conscious I, the part that thinks, feels, and remembers is comprised of both components. I am the princess, and I am the peasant. And because there are two sides to me, I desire very conflicting things. One moment I desire everything good and proper, and the very next moment, my entire focus is on things base and empty.

The Activity that Brings Man the Most Happiness

Once a person understands himself, he can engage in the experience that brings him the most happiness — growth. That is what Hashem put us in this world to do. That is the purpose of all of Creation. And Hashem implanted within us all of the drives and instincts that we need to grow.

The challenge of life is that there is the other part of me. There is the peasant who calls out with his needs, desires, and wishes. If a person follows that voice, for a while he is occupied, for a moment he’ll find some satisfaction, but it quickly leaves him more empty than before.

Hashem Wants Us to Be Happy

Hashem wants us to be happy. Hashem created everything to give of His good to us. Even though the purpose of life is our station in the World to Come, Hashem wants us to be happy in this world as well. For that reason, He created so many amenities strictly for us to enjoy. But to enjoy them, a person must learn to use this world properly.

When man follows the Torah’s path, he grows, he accomplishes, and he achieves his purpose in Creation — and he is happy. In that state, he can enjoy all of the beauty of this world. It doesn’t distract him; it is a tool that he uses to further serve his Creator and enhance his growth. The challenge of life is not to get lost, not to get so caught up on the here and now that we forget that there is a tomorrow.

This is an excerpt from the new Shmuz on Life book: Stop Surviving and Start Living.! It is a powerful, inspiring work that deals with major life issues. The book will be released in stores April 2011. Pre releases copies are available now at www.TheShmuz.com, or by calling 866-613-TORAH (8672).

“When HASHEM your G-d will broaden your boundary as He spoke to you, and you say, “I will eat meat,” for you will have a desire to eat meat, to your heart’s entire desire you may eat meat.” – Devarim 12:20

For forty years in the midbar the Jewish people ate mon. Guided by Moshe Rabbeinu, engaged in constant Torah study with every physical need taken care of, the Klal Yisrael lived on a lofty spiritual plane. Now that they were being ushered into a different era – entering Eretz Yisroel where they would begin living in a natural manner – they were given many directives to retain their status as an exalted nation.

One of the points that Moshe Rabbeinu made to the Klal Yisrael is that when they settled the land and followed the Torah, they would find success in their endeavors, and HASHEM would expand their borders. When this would occur, they would desire meat. And they would be allowed to eat it anywhere they wished.

Rashi is bothered by the relationship between the expanding of borders and the “desire to eat meat.” It almost implies that the expansion of borders brings on the desire. Rashi explains that the Torah is teaching us a principle in derech eretz. A person should only desire meat when he can afford it. When HASHEM expands our borders and we enjoy financial success, then it is appropriate to desire meat – not before.

This Rashi seems difficult to understand. What is wrong with desiring meat? The Torah might tell me that if I can’t afford meat, I shouldn’t eat it. If it is beyond my means and purchasing it would create an undue expense, I shouldn’t buy any. But what is wrong with just desiring it?

Pleasures and Lusts

The answer to this can be best understood with a moshol. Imagine that you find yourself shipwrecked on a desert island. You haven’t eaten in three days, and you are driven by one burning desire – food. As you hobble along the island, you notice a brown paper bag under a palm tree. You open it up to find a dry peanut butter sandwich that has sat out in the sun for three months. You gulp down that sandwich with more gusto than anything that you have ever eaten in your life.

Here is the question: how much pleasure did you derive from eating that sandwich? There is no question that you had a powerful urge, a very real desire, but how much enjoyment did you receive from that activity? The answer is not much. It certainly relieved your hunger, and in that sense brought a release from pain, but it would be hard to imagine that for the rest of your life you would be reminiscing back to the sensation of the bitter, spoiled peanut butter and dry, cracked bread as it scratched your throat when you swallowed it.

This is a good example of the distinction between pleasure and lust. You ate that sandwich with great desire – a lot of passion – but you didn’t derive much pleasure from that activity. Lust is the pull to engage in a given activity. Pleasure is the amount of enjoyment you receive from it. As unusual as it may sound, most people fail to make a distinction between pleasures and passions.

HASHEM wants us to be happy

This seems to be the answer to the Rashi. While it is true that life is a battle, and exerting self-control is the primary vehicle of growth, HASHEM created us to be happy. If you bring new desires into your world, desires that you can’t possibly fulfill, you are destined to be miserable. You will be constantly wanting, constantly hungry. Your life will become the opposite of a pleasurable existence.

The Torah is teaching us that our desires are things that we can and need to control. If you have the capacity to meet the desire to eat meat, there is nothing wrong with allowing those desires to surface. HASHEM created many pleasures for man to enjoy, and you should use those pleasures to better serve Him. But if you don’t have the means to fulfill those hungers and you allow them to be present, then you will be living a very uncomfortable existence, constantly hungering for something that can’t be met.

When HASHEM grants you abundance and you can afford luxuries, then you will desire meat – but not before. The Torah is educating us into a higher form of living. When you enjoy the pleasures and control your desires, you use this world for its intended purpose, thereby living b’ shleimus – complete, not lacking.

Consumerism – a national culture of competitive acquisitions

This concept is very applicable as we are the Chosen Nation – expected to be above the rest of the nations. Unfortunately, that sense of living at a higher standard can become perverted into materialism, where the expectation is that for people like “us,” nothing less than the best will do. And so our weddings, our wardrobes, our homes, and our cars have to be the best. The way our children dress and the types of toys that they expect are nothing short of top-notch. And we find ourselves with an ever-increasing cost of living. When barely surviving in our communities means that we are expected to earn three to four times the national median household income, something is wrong with our lifestyle.

What’s wrong

with desiring

to eat meat?

We live in times of mass prosperity where the average person is rich, but to enjoy that great bracha, we must maintain control. Everything in this world was created for man’s use – but it must be used properly, in balance, in the right time, and in the right measure. When man does that, he enjoys his short stay on this planet and accomplishes his purpose in Creation.

For more on this topic please listen to Shmuz #156 Get out of Debt

“The Shmuz”, an engaging and motivating Torah lecture that deals with real life issues is available for FREE at www.TheShmuz.com. The Shmuz on the Parsha Book, a compilation on all of Chumash is now available for purchase either in your local Sefarim store, or at the Shmuz.com

“Who feeds you manna in the wilderness, which your forefathers knew not, in order to afflict you and in order to test you to do good for you in the end?” – Devarim 8:16

For forty years living in the midbar, the Jewish people ate mon. The Torah explains that  one of the reasons that the mon was given to the Klal Yisroel was in order to test them. The Siforno explains the test: “Will you do His will when He gives you your sustenance easily without pain?”

It seems that the Siforno is telling us that the fact that the Jewish nation didn’t have to work was one of the great trials that they faced.

This Siforno is very difficult to understand. We know that HASHEM metes out many life tests. But where have we seen that not having to struggle is a challenge? How could the fact that it was easy to make a living be a nisayon?

Moishe and the monopoly game

This question can be answered by focusing on why HASHEM wants man to work? The ox was created to plow, the donkey to haul loads, the beaver to dam streams. But, man was created for a very different purpose. Man was not created to be a beast of burden. So, why does HASHEM want man to work for a living?

One of the reasons can be best understood with a moshol. Imagine that a man recognizes that his eight-year-old son has difficulty getting along with his peers. The little boy is constantly getting into fights, and in general seems to miss social cues. The school psychologist tells him that his son has social integration issues. He just doesn’t understand the rules of social conduct.

The father, takes it upon himself to help his little Moishe become a mentsch. As part of the plan, he takes time off from work and invites Moishe and his friends to a play date. There they are on the floor playing Monopoly. At a certain point during the game, an ambulance passes, siren blasting, and as all the boys look to the window, the father notices Moishe reach into “the bank” and take out a five hundred dollar bill. The father doesn’t say anything. A few moments later, the door bell rings. Again, all the boys look up, and Moishe meanwhile reaches into the box and takes out two thousand dollars. When this happens again a few moments later, the father asks Moishe to join him in the kitchen.

“Moishe,” says the father, “I couldn’t help but notice that some of the money that belongs in the bank somehow ended up in your pocket. Could you explain this to me?”

“Sure,” Moishe answers. “You see, last night I heard you and Mommy talking about how you need a lot of money. So here, I took this for you!”

While the sincerity of the little fellow might be touching, he is missing the point. The only reason the father was involved in this activity was to teach him how to be a mentsch. The father doesn’t need the money, and certainly isn’t taking time off of his busy day to earn “Monopoly money.” But Moishe in his naiveté missed the entire point of the exercise.

This is an apt moshol to man working. HASHEM doesn’t need man to work to earn a living. HASHEM has lots and lots of money. HASHEM created the situation that man has to work to allow him to have to earn his daily bread. Now man is dependent. Now man is without, and now man can go through one of the greatest of life’s tests: how will he go about this activity called earning a living? Will he be honest? Will he be ethical? When he has difficulty in earning a living, will he learn to trust in HASHEM, or will he make that ultimate mistake thinking it is the sweat of his brow and the strength of his hand that earns him his bread?

Man needs needs

This seems to be the answer to the Siforno. The generation of the midbar was on a lofty plain. They had received the Torah from HASHEM and were living in a virtual yeshiva. While the mon took care of their daily needs, it was also as a great social experiment: would they attain the same closeness to HASHEM without having to earn a living? Would they still reach out to HASHEM if they didn’t lack? Would they still come to recognize their dependence upon HASHEM if they didn’t need to struggle to survive? The mon was a test to see if they could reach greatness without the normal life settings – without needs.

How is not having to

work for a living

considered a life test?

This concept has great relevance in our times when we are seeing tests of faith all around us. And we see many fall. Many fall prey to materialism; many fall prey to the great race to acquire more; and even more fall to the understanding that it is my efforts that earn me my daily bread. One of the results of this fallacious thinking is the questionable ethics that we see being practiced.

The sad reality is that lying, cheating, and stealing amount not only a lack of morality; it’s a waste of the great opportunity of life. HASHEM doesn’t need our money. HASHEM hand-crafted situations that allow a person to grow — to become a mentch. If he engages in dishonesty in the marketplace, it is ultimately himself that he is robbing because the entire scenario was only created to allow him to become great.

When I stop to understand that HASHEM doesn’t need me to work, but has put me in this very situation to allow me to grow, that changes the way that I deal with the entire concept of working for a living, and greatly impacts the methods I employ in doing so.

For more on this topic please listen to Shmuz #39 -  I Need, Needs

“The Shmuz”, an engaging and motivating Torah lecture that deals with real life issues is available for FREE at www.TheShmuz.com. The Shmuz on the Parsha Book, a compilation on all of Chumash is now available for purchase either in your local Sefarim store, or at the Shmuz.com

“Do not covet the house of your neighbor. Do not covet the wife of your neighbor; his slave and maid servant, his ox, his donkey, and all that belongs to your neighbor.” – Shemos 20:14

The Even Ezra explains that people are perplexed by this mitzvah. How is it possible not to desire that which I find beautiful? The Torah can forbid actions or of speech, because I can to control my behaviors.  But desires dwells deep within a person. They are a function of the inner condition. I didn’t ask for them, but they are here. How can the Torah command me not to want?

The Even Ezra answers with a moshol. Imagine, he says, that a simple villager were to see a princess passing in a procession. He may find her very beautiful, but he would never fantasize about marrying her. She is so far removed from his social status that the idea of taking her as a wife is out of the realm of the possible. He wouldn’t even dream about it. If the idea would ever cross his mind, he would quickly rebuke himself, saying, “Am I insane? Do I dream about sprouting wings and flying?”

So too, the Even Ezra explains, when a person understands that HASHEM runs the world and sets forth the right woman for the right man, he will never desire that which isn’t his because he knows that it is impossible for him to have it. It is so impossible that it would be akin to a sane individual dreaming about growing wings and flying.

The Even Ezra is teaching us a fundamental concept in growth: that we can shape our very reality.

Changing  Standards of Beauty

As an example: there was a time in history when being overweight was considered a sign of dignity. For millennium, people barely had enough to eat. The only ones who could afford enough food to be heavy were the wealthy. As a result, if a man was corpulent, it was a sign of wealth and distinction. For that reason, in many cultures it was considered a sign of beauty for a woman to be heavy. A woman of distinction was large, and the larger, the more distinguished.

That isn’t our reality today. Rather than utter those dreaded words, “She is overweight,” a shadchan will use fifteen euphemisms. “I mean she is average.” “She has wonderful middos, a special chen, great yichus. . . ” Anything to avoid saying that the young woman is heavy.

Why is that we now loathe what many societies once considered desirous? The reason is that beauty is a function of perception. Young men are cultured, often from a very young age, that a certain standard is appealing. That is the desired state. That is how their sisters look, that is how they mothers rate attractiveness and beauty, and their reality is shaped by what others accept as the standard.

The point is that what is considered attractive is not hard-wired at birth; it is learned, often shaped by what others consider desirable. By nature the human desires, but the object of his desire is shaped by external factors and perceptions.

This seems to be the point that the Even Ezra is sharing with us: that we can shape our very reality. That which I desire will only be within a specific range of things, and it must be possible to be had. If I were to focus on the fact that HASHEM truly is in charge, I would understand that it is literally impossible to for me to have the life situation that my friend has. His money, his job, his house, and his wife were all set by HASHEM – and there is nothing in my power to change that. Once I comprehend this, my desire for the object begins to wane. It enters into the realm of the impossible. It will just never happen. And so, I no longer desire it. Much like the villager would never dream of sprouting wings to fly, it’s insane.

Living the good life

This concept is very relevant to us as we live in times when the media sells the image that you can have anything, and not only can you have it – you need it. Only when you acquire the home on the beach, the exotic vacation, the luxurious car, will you be truly happy. Constantly feeding a hunger and appetite for more and more, we are swept into new levels of hungers and desires, desires for things that yesterday we didn’t even know existed. Needless to say, if a person buys into this, he will never be happy. No sooner does he acquire that level of luxury than a new one is thrust into his view, so he is ever hungry, always needing more and more.

The Even Ezra is teaching us that the key to happiness is understanding that HASHEM is the one who metes out life situations: which house, which wife, which field. It is all set by HASHEM, and that reality is something that is in my power to set. I don’t have to be shackled to a false perception. No one forces me to accept an inaccurate sense of how the world functions. I can control my perception of life, and thereby shape my reality. Once I mature in my thinking, my reality becomes shaped by this world order, and I recognize that things that HASHEM has given me are for my best, and things that HASHEM has allocated for others aren’t just inappropriate for me, they are impossible to obtain. It’s like dreaming about sprouting wings to fly; it can’t possibly happen. Once I fully understand that, I stop desiring what others have and attain a state of peace, tranquility, and happiness with the lot that HASHEM has chosen for me.

How is it possible not to desire that which I find alluring?

For more on this topic please listen to Shmuz #47 – -  Cognitive Restructuring

“The Shmuz”, an engaging and motivating Torah lecture that deals with real life issues is available for FREE at www.TheShmuz.com. The Shmuz on the Parsha Book, a compilation on all of Chumash is now available for purchase either in your local Sefarim store, or at the Shmuz.com

Man: Preprogrammed for Greatness

Parshas Devarim / Shabbos Chazon

“The ox knows its owner; the donkey the stall of its master; Yisrael doesn’t know, My nation doesn’t contemplate.” – Yeshaya 1:3

With these words, Yeshaya Ha’Navi begins the rebuke of his generation.

Rashi explains what he was saying. The ox doesn’t change its nature. It doesn’t say, “I will no longer plow.” The donkey doesn’t say, “I will no longer haul loads.” Each animal follows it’s nature, unquestioningly doing what it was created to do. The Klal Yisrael, however, is different. You have veered off course and changed your ways. And so, you are lower than the animals created to serve you.

A horse and rider

This Rashi is difficult to understand. When a man mounts a horse: the man might weigh 150 pounds; the horse might weigh over 2,000 pounds. The man is puny and weak; the horse is huge and mighty. Yet the little, pudgy man sits atop the large muscular horse, and takes control. He commands the horse to ride, gallop, turn and stop. Why doesn’t the horse just say no? “No,I don’t want to gallop today. No, I don’t want to turn right. No, I don’t want to bow to your wishes.” Why does the huge, powerful horse obey the little, weak man?

The reason is because that is the nature of a horse. Its instinct is to obey. It doesn’t think about it. It doesn’t decide to submit. Built into the very being of the horse is a temperament of subservience to its master.

Man, however, is different. Man has conflicting wishes and desires. Man has forces pulling him in competing directions. And man has a conscious “I” that sits in deliberation and decides. The reason man is given reward or punishment is because it is in his hands to choose his path. In all of Creation, man and man alone, has free will. So how can Rashi compare the nature of a beast, which was created to comply, to that of man, which is so different?

The nature of man

The answer to this question is based on a more focused understanding of human nature:

The Chovos Ha’Levovos (Sha’ar Avodas Elokim) explains that HASHEM created man out of two distinct parts: the Nefesh Ha’Sichli and the Nefesh Ha’Bahami. The Nefesh Ha’Sichli in man comes from the upper worlds, and so, it only wants to do that which is right and proper. It only wants to serve HASHEM and accomplish great things. Its very nature is to strive for perfection. It desires to help others and make a significant contribution. It was created with a need to emulate HASHEM.

However, there is another part of man. A full half of man’s personality is shaped by base instincts and desires. Much like any animal in the wild kingdom, man was preprogrammed with all of the impulses and drives needed for his survival. This part of man hungers for things. It doesn’t think about consequences or results. It can’t see into the future. It is made up of hungers and appetites.

Man is a synthesis, a combination of opposites – a perfect balance between two competing natures. If he chooses to listen to his pure nefesh, he grows and accomplishes, reaching his potential and purpose in Creation. If he chooses to listen to his animal instincts, then he destroys his grandeur and majesty, becoming lower than even the behaimah. When we refer to free will, we mean man’s ability to choose which of his inner natures he will listen to.

Man is preprogrammed for greatness

This seems to be the answer to this Rashi. Man is preprogrammed for greatness. The other half of man’s personality is screaming out for meaning, purpose and greatness. There is a powerful instinct within him that only desires that which is proper. If man follows that side of his inner nature, he is pulled towards perfection. But that is the point; the need for perfection is built into his very nature. Deep within him is a hunger to grow, to accomplish, to do that which is noble and great. This isn’t something that he needs to learn; it isn’t something that he needs training in; it is part and parcel of his very being.

For a person to reach anything short of perfection, he must make a conscious choice: he must choose bad. Innate to his being are all of the drives and passions to be like HASHEM. And so, Yeshaya rebuked his nation, “Being good isn’t foreign to your nature. Following the Torah’s ways isn’t something that is imposed upon you — it is built into your very soul. You have all of the instincts to follow it. If you have veered off, then you have rebelled against your very nature. You have subverted the pull to greatness that dwells within your heart. And in that sense, you are lower than the animal kingdom because animals obey the nature that HASHEM put into them.

GPS for the Soul

This concept is relevant in our lives on two levels. First, simply knowing that there is a full half of me that deeply desires to cling to HASHEM, that only wants to do that which is proper and appropriate, that deeply desires to daven, learn, and do chessed is a powerfully motivating concept.

But even more, knowing this allows me to understand how intuitively I know exactly the right thing to do in every situation. Built into me is a part that functions like a GPS, guiding me, directing me. Do this. Don’t do that. Turn left. Now turn right. Make the next legal U-turn.

If I choose to ignore that voice, and in its stead I obey the call of the wild, then I sink and damage myself. I become lower than the animals created to serve me. If I train myself to listen to that voice by learning the Torah’s ways and seeking guidance to develop my inner ear, I set my course to becoming the truly great person that I was predestined to be — someone for whom it was worthwhile to create an entire world.

An animal has an instinct to obey, man doesn’t.

For more on this topic please listen to Shmuz #46- The Greatness of Man

“The Shmuz”, an engaging and motivating Torah lecture that deals with real life issues is available for FREE at www.TheShmuz.com. The Shmuz on the Parsha Book, a compilation on all of Chumash is now available for purchase either in your local Sefarim store, or at the Shmuz.com

A Yellow Belt in Five Styles

Probably the greatest cost to a person living life without a clear purpose is that he won’t reach a fraction of his potential. He will become like the young man who was a yellow belt in five styles of karate.

When this fellow was in grade school, he was fascinated with the martial arts, so he convinced his parents to let him study karate. He enrolled in a school and learned the stances, the kicks, and the punches. He was a diligent student, and after about a year of training, he was ready for his yellow belt test, the first rank. He took the test and passed.

Shortly after that, his family moved to another city, but the only karate school he could find there practiced a different style of karate. So he began again from the basics, with new stances, new kicks, and new punches. Again he progressed well, and again he took his yellow belt test — now in the new style — and passed.

Soon the time came for him to go away to high school. In that city, he again searched for a karate school, and the only one he could find taught a third style of karate. So he had to start from the basics with the new stances, new kicks, and new punches. And in this style as well, he was awarded a yellow belt. Midpoint through high school, he switched yeshivahs, and began the same process again.

At the end of five years of disciplined training, this young man had attained the rank of yellow belt in five styles — a beginner! Had he spent the same amount of time and effort in one style, he would have attained the rank of black belt — a master. The ironic part was that he applied himself and worked hard, but because his focus kept changing and he had to start from the beginning over and over again, his advancement was stymied. At the end, he remained a rank beginner.

Changing Currency

This story has a message. Most people spend their lives with changing priorities. That which is important at one stage becomes insignificant at another. To a young boy growing up in America, sports are king. That is what really counts in his world. But that doesn’t last; it is soon replaced by friends and being popular. As he matures, grades and what college he gets into become the measure of success. Within a short while, his career and making money are all that really matter. Yet this also passes, and shortly, he will trade away huge amounts of his wealth to build his reputation. As he nears retirement, his health and his future nursing home become his primary concern.

Throughout life, whatever is precious and coveted at one stage becomes devalued and traded away when new priorities take over. The currency is constantly changing. The result of this is that while someone may do well at each stage in life, the totality of what he accomplished may not amount to much. He became a yellow belt in five styles.

Where Are You Headed?

One of the costs of not asking the fundamental questions of life is that people end up in some rather sad situations. Often, at the end of a person’s life — when it is too late to do anything about it — he has bitter regrets about the way he spent his time.

The Mesillas Yesharim teaches us that the first principle of leading a successful life is knowing what you want out of it. Know where you are headed. Know your currency, know your value system, and then set goals in accordance with it.

But therein lies the problem. How does a young person know where life will bring him when he is older? Which human is wise enough to know where he will be in twenty years? How can anyone know what he will consider important and valuable when he is in a different stage of life?

When you ask a five-year-old, “What do you want to be when you grow up?” he might tell you he wants to be a fireman, a policeman, or a basketball player. In reality, he isn’t telling you what he wants to be when he grows up. He is telling you what he wants to be now, if he were grown up.

He is telling you, based on his five-year-old understanding of life, what he values and considers important. He can’t tell what he will value when he is older. He has no way of knowing what he will consider important and significant then. He is telling what he wants to be now. And according to his current understanding of the world, he would like to be Superman, Batman or a UPS driver.

In this sense, one of the most difficult things for any human to do is to set a life course that will make him happy thirty years in the future. How can anyone possibly know what will be important to him then? How can we know what we will consider successful then?

The Plan

The Mesillas Yesharim tells us that Hashem didn’t just create man and leave him to figure it all out. Hashem didn’t design an entire world for man, put him into it with a mission, and then stand aside saying, “But I am not going to tell you what it is. It’s a secret. Go figure it out.”

Hashem gave us a clear, definitive blueprint, an exact guidebook with clear directions on how to live our lives and the underlying reasons for it. The key to true success is to open that book, learn its words of truth, and mold our lives accordingly.

This is an excerpt from the new Shmuz on Life book: Stop Surviving and Start Living.! It is a powerful, inspiring work that deals with major life issues. The book will be released in stores April 2011. Pre releases copies are available now at www.TheShmuz.com, or by calling 866-613-TORAH (8672).

“The three cities you shall place on the other side of the Jordan, and three cities you shall place in the land of Canaan; cities of refuge they shall be.” – Bamidbar 35:14

A Shogeg killer

If a man kills unintentionally, under specific conditions, he is obligated to flee to a city of refuge and remain there until the Kohain Gadol dies. While his act wasn’t premeditated and not even intentional, the Torah judges that had human life been more valuable to him, he would have been more careful, and this act would not have happened. Therefore, he is held accountable.

The Torah delineates the placement of these cities of refuge: three on the Transjordan and three in the Land of Israel. Rashi is troubled by the disparity. Only two and a half shvatim remained on the other side of the Jordan. The vast majority of the Jewish people lived inside the borders of Israel. If three cities of refuge are sufficient to service nine and a half shvatim, why should two and half shavatim need three cities? Rashi answers that according to the Gemara (Maakkos 9a), “In Gilad there are more killers.” Rashi seems to be saying that even though the area of the land and the size of the population were smaller, they would need an equal amount of cities of refuge because the cities themselves cause there to be more murders.

This Rashi seems very difficult to understand. These posukim are speaking before the Klal Yisroel entered the Land of Israel. There were no established customs or sociological factors that would affect the people living there; all of the previous occupants of the land would be removed. They were beginning with a new society. So why should one city have a higher proportion of murders than another? Does the land itself grow killers?

The answer to this question is based on understanding forces that HASHEM put into the world. This can be clarified with a moshol.

A modern junk yard

Electro magnetism is a force that we are all familiar and comfortable with. And it doesn’t even surprise us that it can be used to lift thousands of pounds of metal effortlessly. But objectively, it is astounding. A force that can travel across distances, go right through objects, and cause heavy metal objects to move, and not just move, but to literally fly off the ground! Turn the electricity on and this force can pick up full-sized vehicles. Turn it off, and they drop right back down. Yet we don’t see the force. We can’t even feel it; we could walk right through the waves and not know that they exist. This is an example of a powerful force that HASHEM created for a specific purpose.

So too, HASHEM created other forces in the world. The Gemara tells us that while certain cities grow licentiousness, other cities grow brave and wise men. HASHEM created man with inclinations and drives, and forces outside him can affect the pull they have. Much like an electromagnet, these tendencies can be increased or decreased as HASHEM sees fit.

While modern man is very sophisticated in his understanding of the physical world, there is much in the realm of the metaphysical that man is clueless about, and science is unaware of much of what drives human behavior.

This seems to be the answer to the question on Rashi. “Gilad grows murderers” means that there is a force in that city that causes people to be more aggressive and to act out in their hostility. As too much caffeine causes many people to be jittery, anxious, and short-tempered, so too there are forces that HASHEM created that affect a person’s anger. A person living in that area will more likely be hostile, and this will lead him towards the type of behaviors that end in murder. He certainly has the ability to resist those urges and will be held accountable for what he does, but there is more of a pull in that city than in another. Therefore, the Torah states that there was a need for the three cities on the other side of the Jordan because it was more likely that murder would be committed there.

A moral vacuum

This concept is very useful in helping us understand the times in which we live. In the past forty years, we have witnessed a mind-boggling disintegration of moral values and ethics. That which four decades ago was considered decadent, amoral, and deviant is now posted on billboards and advertisements –shown for all the world to see. There is no sociological explanation for this decline. Clearly, there are “forces” at work, forces that pull man towards certain behaviors, forces that exert their drag, forces that pull man down.

As different generations have different tests, so too, different locations have different challenges. Certain cities, even today, have a reputation for decadence and defiance. Those cities “grow depravity.” The affect of these forces can be seen in the behaviors and lifestyles of the people living there. The cities themselves are on a different level. And there are also locations that pull toward the opposite tendencies in man.

We have to pray that HASHEM should hastily bring Moshiach when we will experience a powerful pull to do that which is right, noble, and proper, and we will all naturally gravitate towards a state of higher living.

For more on this topic please listen to Shmuz #43 – Soton out of the Box

“The Shmuz”, an engaging and motivating Torah lecture that deals with real life issues is available for FREE at www.TheShmuz.com. The Shmuz on the Parsha Book, a compilation on all of Chumash is now available for purchase either in your local Sefarim store, or at the Shmuz.com

“And if her father will revoke [the neder] the day that he hears all of the vows and prohibitions that she placed on herself, they [the vows] will not stand, and HASHEM will forgive her because her father annulled them.” — Bamidbar 30:6

While a neder is a Halachically binding vow, there are methods to annul it. For example, if a husband becomes aware of his wife’s neder and feels it is inappropriate, he can refuse it, rendering it not binding. This refusal can be done with or without her knowledge. The Torah states that if a husband refuses his wife’s neder, HASHEM will forgive her.

Rashi is bothered by the expression, “HASHEM will forgive her.” If a woman made a neder and her husband annulled it, there is nothing binding upon her. What does she need forgiveness for?

If her vow was annulled,

why does she need

forgiveness?

Rashi explains that this is speaking of a case in which a woman made a neder, her husband overheard and annulled it, but she was unaware of it. In her mind, the neder still stood. If she then went and violated her neder, if she did that which she vowed not to do, even though her neder was absolved, she still needs forgiveness.

This explanation seems difficult to understand. If, in fact, her husband successfully undid the neder, then it wasn’t binding. If so, she did nothing wrong. The question remains: what does she need forgiveness for?

I sat down to eat a cheeseburger, and it turned out to be soy cheese

This is equivalent to a situation in which, for whatever reason, I decide to eat a cheeseburger. After finishing it, I find out that it wasn’t really a cheeseburger. Unbeknownst to me, someone switched the cheese for an imitation cheese product made of soy beans. The meat was kosher, and the fake cheese wasn’t dairy. The sandwich turns out to be kosher. In that case, I didn’t eat treif, and I shouldn’t need atonement. So too with the woman whose husband annulled her vow. Even though she may not have been aware of it, she didn’t violate her word, and she shouldn’t need forgiveness.

Two elements to every sin

The answer to this question is that there are two elements to every sin. The first element is the damage that it does to me. HASHEM gave the Torah as the ultimate system of self-perfection. Each mitzvah is part of the program that helps me grow and shapes me into who I will be for eternity. On the flip side, each aveirah damages me. Each sin has been singled out by the Creator as containing the ingredients to both impede my spiritual growth as well as to directly damage me.

We may not recognize the adverse affect of eating forbidden foods, but they leave an indelible imprint. The Gemara tells us that treif foods deaden the heart. When I consume them, it becomes more difficult for me to experience HASHEM’s presence. Treif foods make it more difficult for me to feel Shabbos. They make it harder for me to experience another Jew’s pain. For that reason, HASHEM forbids us to eat them and warns us against them.

That is the first element to every sin — the direct damage it has on me. But every sin has a second element to it: I was commanded by the King not to do it.

HASHEM created me, maintains my existence, provides my sustenance, and watches out for my best interests 24/7. That alone is reason enough for me to obey HASHEM. However, even if HASHEM wasn’t as involved in my life as He is, just the fact that the great King of Kings, the Master of the Universe has commanded me in something obligates me in it. Whether I am aware of the reason or not, whether there is a reason or not, if the King has commanded me in a given action, I am obligated to fulfill it. If I violate the will of the King, that is considered an audacious act.

This seems to be the answer to question on Rashi. In the case of the woman whose neder was annulled, she was unaware that her husband undid it. In her mind, the vow still stood. So in her mind, what she was doing was forbidden. She was violating the command of the King. Granted, she got lucky, and the actual damage of the sin wasn’t there, but that’s only because the essence of the neder was gone. She still acted against what she understood to be the King’s command. She showed disregard for the King’s wishes, and for that, she requires kapparah.

This concept has great relevance to us. Many times we take the attitude that mitzvahs are good things to do because they benefit and help us. Much like eating well and exercising, we see mitzvahs as things that we really should do. And while that is true, there is an entirely different dimension to our fulfilling mitzvahs, and that is that we are commanded in them. The word “mitzvah” comes from the root “command.” Mitzvahs aren’t suggestions, and they’re not recommended procedures. We are obligated.

In this sense, our Avodas HASHEM is different than any self-improvement pursuit. If I wake up one morning and decide that I don’t want to work out, it is my prerogative. I chose my exercise program, I decided on the intensity and level of my commitment, and if I am not in the mood one day, that is my choice.

However, I don’t have that prerogative when it comes to mitzvahs. Even though HASHEM gave them to me for my growth and my good, I didn’t choose the program, nor was I given the right to opt out. Whether I like it or not, HASHEM has put me on this track of success. Whether I am pleased with it right now or not, the King has commanded me in the various activities that are for my good.

It’s much like a society that outlaws suicide, knowing that there might be times when a person is despondent and doesn’t feel life is worth living. Hopefully, with time, he will change and come to recognize the great blessing of life. So too, HASHEM commanded us in activities and a lifestyle that is for our benefit, and even if we don’t fully recognize their value and preciousness now, there will come a time — whether in this life or perhaps only when we leave this earth — that we will recognize the extraordinary value and preciousness of every mitzvah. Then, we will thank HASHEM for putting us on the track towards greatness. For that reason, HASHEM commands us to keep the mitzvahs — with the understanding that at some point we will be eternally grateful for the great opportunity called life.

For more on this topic please listen to Shmuz #113- Tshuvah: Two Elements of a Sin

“Pinchas, the son of Elazar, the son of Aharon HaKohain, appeased My anger against the Bnai Yisroel by taking My revenge amidst them, and so I didn’t have to destroy them with My vengeance.” — Bamidbar 25:11

Pinchas was granted a Bris Shalom

The posuk tells us that because Pinchas defended the honor of HASHEM, he was granted a “bris of shalom.” The Siforno explains that as a result of this covenant of peace, Pinchas lived to an extraordinary age – far longer than was expected in his times. However, the Siforno points out that the reason for his longevity wasn’t supernatural, but rather because he was granted this bris. Since he was given shalom, he was at peace with himself, and as a result, he didn’t suffer the normal internal conflict that causes damage to our bodies. He therefore lived to an extremely old age.

The Siforno explains, “All deterioration happens to the body because of conflict of the opposites.” In other words, all disease, infirmity, and weakening with age only occurs because of internal conflicts. Since Pinchas was granted peace, he had no internal battles; therefore, his body didn’t age, and he lived hundreds of years.

The body was made to last only so long…

The difficulty with this understanding of the Siforno is that it negates our basic understanding of health. The reality is that humans age. The heart, the liver, and the pancreas were designed to function only for a given length of time. After that, they break down. Infirmities and weakness come naturally with old age. Arthritis, high blood pressure, and the thickening of the arteries are a part of life. While the heart may be a remarkable living pump, the valves start to weaken with time, the muscle tissue begins to break down, and it deteriorates with age. The body was made to last only so long; then it just wears out. So how can the Sifrno argue with our accepted understanding by stating “All deterioration happens to the body because of conflict of the opposites.”

Mind/body relationship

The answer to this question is based on 20^th century medical findings.

Herbert Benson, M.D., Ph.D., was a professor of medicine at Harvard University in the 1960’s when he stumbled upon an unusual phenomenon. He found that when a patient’s blood pressure was taken in his office, invariably it was higher than when it was taken at home. His patients would regularly report blood pressure levels significantly lower than what was found in his office.

After careful study, he concluded that anxiety contributes to high blood pressure. Being examined by a doctor was causing his patients to be nervous, and that was contributing to the rise in their blood pressure.  

While it may seem obvious to us today, at the time it wasn’t at all clear that there was a correlation between stress and high blood pressure. For decades, it was assumed that a person’s mental condition had no effect on his physical condition. Any reported effects of stress and anxiety on health were taken as psychosomatic or imagined.

Benson’s discovery led him to firmly establish the correlation between stress and high blood pressure, and he became a pioneer in a new field of medicine: the relationship between mind and body. Since those times, it has become accepted in the medical community that stress causes a marked deterioration to a person’s health. Stress can bring about heart disease, gastrointestinal disorders, pain, insomnia, asthma, allergies. . . It is now accepted medical opinion that along with diet and exercise, the lowering of stress levels is a major contributor to a person’s overall health. 

This is something that the Siforno taught us over 500 years ago. What he was saying was that Pinchas naturally lived for hundreds of years because the normal cause of deteriorating health didn’t apply to him. He wasn’t in conflict; he was at peace with himself, and as such, his body was healthier and able to live to a astonishingly advanced age.

The ultimate cause of distress – the voice inside

This concept has major ramifications in our lives. When HASHEM created man, He implanted into each of us an inner sense of right and wrong, a Voice Inside that allows us to know the correct course of behavior for each situation. More than simply a moral compass, this Voice Inside acts as our guide to self-perfection.

When a person listens to that voice, he lives a fulfilling, meaningful life as his Creator intended, and he is at peace with himself. If he chooses to ignore that voice, not only doesn’t he grow to the heights for which he was destined, he lives in discord and conflict because the voice doesn’t give him any rest.

“Why did you do that? That was selfish. I am ashamed of you,” rags on that Voice Inside.

He didn’t ask for or choose that voice. He may no longer want it, but the voice is there, and speak it does – often against his wishes:

“Why are you living your life that way? Why aren’t you learning more? Why aren’t you davening like a mentsch? What do you think you were put on this planet for?”

Many times, the person may even want to scream at that voice, “Leave me alone! What are you – my Rebbe or something?!” But the voice doesn’t stop. He may ignore it for a while. He may squelch it down, but it returns over and over, giving him no rest. If a person decides not to listen to that voice, one of the prices he pays is discord and inner conflict. He at war with himself, and he suffers.

HASHEM created the human to be healthy, happy, and to live a fulfilling life. If a person lives in accordance with the wishes of his Creator, not only does he grow as a person, he lives a peaceful, happy life. However, if he chooses to ignore that path, not only doesn’t he accomplish the purpose for which he was created, he suffers greatly in this world as well. He lives in discord with his inner sense and finds no peace, joy, or happiness in his existence.

For more on this topic please listen to Shmuz #31- The Voice Inside

“The Shmuz”, an engaging and motivating Torah lecture that deals with real life issues is available for FREE at www.TheShmuz.com. The Shmuz on the Parsha Book, a compilation on all of Chumash is now available for purchase either in your local Sefarim store, or at the Shmuz.com

“Pinchas, the son of Elazar, the son of Aharon HaKohain, appeased My anger against the Bnai Yisroel by taking My revenge amidst them, and so I didn’t have to destroy them with My vengeance.” — Bamidbar 25:11

The plot to destroy the Jews

Parshas Balak ends with the daughters of Moav enticing the young Jewish men to sin. This quickly led to idol worship, and many Jewish men served Baal Peor.

At the height of the debacle, Zimri, one of the heads of shevet Shimon, took a Moabite princess and brought her into the encampment of the Jews, making a public spectacle of the act. Because he was a leader of the Jewish people, this was a grave threat to the survival of the nation. A plague broke out, and thousands of Jews died. 

Pinchas runs to Moshe

Pinchas saw what was happening and ran to Moshe for advice. Moshe directed him to take action. At the risk of his life and against all odds, Pinchas walked into the mob and miraculously killed both Zimri and the Moabite woman. No sooner did their dead bodies hit the floor than the plague stopped. It was a clear and obvious sign that Pinchas had acted correctly. By acting with courage and alacrity, he saved the Jews from destruction. Clearly, he was a hero.

Yet the very next parsha, which is called Parshas Pinchas, opens up with a posuk repeating his lineage: “Pinchas, the son of Elazar, the son of Aharon.” Rashi explains that the Torah delineates his ancestry because he was the subject of derision. The other shvatim mocked him, “Did you see this son of idol worshipers? His mother’s father fattened calves to serve to idols, and he has the audacity to kill the head of a shevet!” The Torah therefore repeats that he was a direct descendent of Aharon to let us know that he was justified in what he did.

This Rashi is difficult to understand as it implies that people looked at what Pinchas did and assumed that he was wrong. Yet he had direct orders from Moshe Rabbeinu. Many miracles happened to allow him to succeed, and a plague that killed 24,000 people stopped only when he finally killed Zimri. How is that possible that anyone could see Pinchas as anything other than a hero?

The eyes of history

The answer to this question is that there are often two distinct perspectives of an event: the perspective from living in the moment, and the perspective of history. While the episode is playing out, it is often difficult to identify the real issues and motives being challenged. Changes are happening too quickly, things are moving at too feverish a pace, and clarity is elusive. After the fact, when the dust settles and some time has passed, what transpired is often viewed from a different focus, and what was then obscure is now obvious.

When we look back at events in history, all is clear and evident. The heroes stand out wearing shining armor, the villains appear in black garb, and everyone fits nicely into their camp. But to those living at the time, it wasn’t that neat and clean. The good guys didn’t appear as all white, and the bad guys didn’t appear as all black. It was somewhere in between.

Understanding the criticism of Pinchas

To the people living during Pinchas’ times, there was justification for what Zimri did. The rationale might well have been that by bringing the Moabite woman into the Jewish camp, she wouldn’t pull the Jewish men away to serve idols. But whatever the logic, there were arguments for and arguments against. The point was that a great man – the head of a shevet – did this act, and it wasn’t at all clear that he was wrong. It is only now after the fact, when we have the perspective of history, that we can see the test and the temptation with absolute clarity.

Each generation has it tests, and one of the most difficult tasks for a later generation is to look back and understand the test of an earlier era. Often times, when we look back, we can’t understand how the people living then could have done what they did. We flippantly assume, “We would never have acted that way! Had we been living in Spain in the mid-1500’s, we would have fled the country or given up our lives – no question about it. Had we come over to these shores in the 1920’s, of course, we would have kept Shabbos and kashrus.” In fact, we can’t understand how anyone could think otherwise.

The reason we can’t even see the temptation is that we are judging the generation according to our social climate. We are assuming that the winds that blew then were the same as now. But the social environment was vastly different. The norms of society – what was expected and accepted, what was valued and revered – were quite different. And as such, the social pressure was very different than it is now.

This concept has great relevance to us. We face nisayonos today that previous generations would laugh at. Most of us live in two-income households, are working long, hard hours, and are still barely able to make ends meet. If our great-grandparents were to look down at our generation, they would be flabbergasted. “What in the world did you need such a fancy house for? A separate bedroom for each child? Each family needs it own car? Each child gets a new outfit? Different types of shoes for weekdays and for Shabbos?” Our great-grandmothers would ask us, “What in the world do you need this lavish wedding for?” And we would sheepishly answer, “Alta Bubbie, this is only the vort!” The reality is that we live a lifestyle that previous generations couldn’t envision or imagine.

But it comes at a cost. The greatest cost is time. Time to learn. Time to daven. Time to be good parents. Time to be a supportive spouse. And more than anything, time to think about what we are on this planet to accomplish.

While we live in the wealthiest of times, in many ways we are the poorest of the poor. By refocusing on our priorities and understanding the pull of our times, we can recognize the tests of our generation and fortify ourselves to overcome them. 

For more on this topic please listen to Shmuz #156 Get out of Debt

The Be’er disappeared when Miriam died

For almost 40 years, as the Jews travelled in the desert, their source of water was the Be’er: a large rock that provided the water they needed to survive. Keeping in mind that the Jewish nation consisted of about 3 million people, and they took many animals with them when they went out of Mitzraim; they required millions of gallons of water each day.  The Be’er provided all they needed and more.  When Miriam died, the rock disappeared, and the Klal Yisroel recognized that their survival was in jeopardy. HASHEM told Moshe Rabbeinu, to go out into the desert, speak to the rock and bring it back. When Moshe and Aharon went to seek the rock, they spoke to it, and received no response. Moshe then assumed that just as it was necessary to hit the rock when the Jews first went out into the desert, so too now. When he hit the rock it began pouring forth water.

Later, HASHEM told Moshe and Aaron that they had erred. HASHEM told them to speak to the rock, and it was through the power of speech that the miracle was to come about. On some level they were lacking in their trust in HASHEM, and this caused them to miscalculate. Had they been more complete in their trust, they would have used words alone, and the rock would have provided the water.

Rashi tells us, that because of this mistake a great lesson was lost to the Jewish People. Had Moshe only spoken to the rock, the Jews would have said to themselves: “A rock doesn’t require sustenance, yet it listens to the word of HASHEM; surely, we, who rely on HASHEM for parnasa must listen to Him”. However, since Moshe hit the rock instead of speaking to it, that lesson was lost.

Rashi seems to be saying that if Moshe had spoken to the rock then the Jewish people would have increased their level of serving HASHEM.  They would have realized that their livelihood was dependent upon their doing Mitzvahs, and this would have added focus and precision in the way that they fulfilled their mitzvahs

Reward for Mitzvahs isn’t in this world

There are two problems with understanding this Rashi. 1. Is that the Gemerah tells us that the reward for Mitzvahs is not in this world.  While it is true that HASHEM rewards every good a person does, the place of that reward is in the world to come. In fact, it is considered a curse to use up your payment in this world- something that is reserved for wicked people.

The second problem with this Rash is that any motivational system must be tailored to fit the audience. The people of this generation received the Torah on Har Sinai. They spent almost forty years, eating Mon, being surrounded by the clouds of glory, completely immersed in Torah – They were on the highest madregah of any generation in history. How could they be  motivated by something so mundane as earning their daily bread? This would sound like a weak motivation for this group.  

Obstacles that prevent us from serving HASHEM

The answer to this question is based on the  Rambam in Hilchos Tshuvah Perek 9 where he explains: even though we don’t receive reward for doing Mitzvahs in this world, if a person keep the Torah properly, then HASHEM will remove all of the obstacles that normally prevent a person from keeping the mitzvahs. For instance, sickness, war, poverty and hunger will prevent a person from learning or fulfilling the Mitzvahs. If a person is happy and dedicates himself to keeping the Torah, HASHEM will shower him with all of the requirements to better serve Him, including, peace, tranquility, well being, health, sustenance…and all else that a person needs to follow the Torah.  

The Rambam is telling us that since HASHEM created the world in order to have man follow the Torah, if a person uses the world properly, then HASHEM allows that person to have his needs met in this world without strain, in order that he can thereby better serve HASHEM.

HASHEM was telling Moshe and Aharon that this lesson would have greatly affected the generation of the desert, and it was lost. Had the people seen Moshe speak to the rock, and the rock obeyed HASHEM’s command, they would have been moved to a powerful realization: the rock doesn’t have needs, yet it listens to HASHEM – how much more so we who have so many needs…. Who provides for our needs? HASHEM. And HASHEM has promised that if we follow in his ways He will remove all obstacles from our path, and if we don’t listen…

That was a lesson that would have affected even this generation- because their very survival depended on it. While a person may have many lofty motives, one of the strongest drives in man is self preservation. Had they come to a more clear recognition that their very survival is dependent upon keeping the Torah- it would have changed even their appreciation—and it was a lesson lost.

Earning a living isn’t easy

This concept: that if we use our life properly, HASHEM will take care of our needs, can be a great source of motivation. The reality is that earning a living isn’t easy. Market economies rise and fall- entire industries come and go, careers that are in high demand in one decade are outsourced and send over seas the next — financial security in an ever changing world is fragile at best.

While our main motivation to keep the Torah is because HASHEM commanded us to do it for our benefit in the World to Come – the reality is that we live in this world. We have bills to pay, children to put through school, and many, many financial obligations. Knowing that if I dedicate myself to passionately keep the Torah, HASHEM will remove those obstacles that stand in my way, can be a great impetus to growth.

Not to say life will be a bed of roses, there will still be Nisyonos, life tests and different settings that we need for various reasons. However the basic starting position that HASHEM will take care of my needs so that I can better serve Him, can aid a person in focusing on their true purpose in this world, and allow them a much greater degree of success in all of their endeavors.

For more on this topic please listen to Shmuz #161 – April 15^th The Test of Emunah

“The Shmuz”, an engaging and motivating Torah lecture that deals with real life issues is available for FREE at www.TheShmuz.com. The new Shmuz book: Stop Surviving and Start Living is now in print! “Powerful”, “Thought Provoking”, “Life changing”, is what people are saying about it.  Copies are now available in stores, or at www.TheShmuz.com, or by calling 866-613-TORAH (8672).

Korach’s rebellion

Korach gathered together 250 men of stature and mounted a rebellion against Moshe and HASHEM.

Rashi explains that Korach’s motivation was jealousy: he felt that he should have been appointed to the position of Nasi of his Shevet, and was seeking revenge.  Even though Moshe Rabbeinu was commanded by HASHEM to appoint Elizaphan Ben Uziel to that position, Korach felt that Moshe made this decision on his own, and he set out to depose him. He would prove that Moshe was saying things in the name of HASHEM, that HASHEM never told him to say.

To prove his point, Korach gathered  250 leaders of the Jewish people, and gave each one a Talis made completely out of Techeiles (A talis only requires one strand of the Tzizis to be dyed the  purple / blue color of techeilis).

He brought this group in front of Moshe and asked: “If one has as a garment made completely of Techeilis is he obligated to put Tzizis on it?” Moshe answered, “He is obligated”. Korach said, “Does that make sense? A garment that is made completely of wool only requires one strand of Techlies and yet you say that a garment made completely of techlies should need additional techlis? It is impossible!” At which point the entire group began laughing at Moshe; and with this Korach launched his revolt.

Korach’s question wasn’t that powerful

It seems clear from the Medrash that Korach’s strategy was to ask so powerful a question that not only wouldn’t Moshe be able to answer it, but it would prove that what he said couldn’t possibly be from HASHEM.  The question is what is so potent about the question that he asked? It might well be that a garment made of plain wool requires tzisis with one strand of Techlies, and a garment made completely of techlies still requires Tzizis with a strand of techeilis in it.  The question doesn’t seem particularly plaguing.

Furthermore if Korach wanted to ask questions, there are far more difficult questions that he could have asked. The Medrash tells us that Shlomo HaMelech couldn’t understand the system of the Parah Adumah. If the purpose of the Parah Aduma is to to purify the one who is being sprinkled with its ashes, how could it be that the kohain  sprinkling the ashes becomes impure by doing it? It is an enigma. Surely if Korach were looking to find an unanswerable question to disprove Moshe, there were many more difficult questions he could have asked. Yet there was something so unanswerable about the Ticheiles question that it caused 250 Torah scholars to laugh at Moshe’s answer- the question is why?

The answer to this question is based on understanding how bias blinds the mind of man.

Questions have answers; answers have no answers

Rav Chaim Voloshin was once approached by a student who had left the Yeshiva. This was at a time when the enlightenment movement was in full swing, and many young, impressionable Yeshiva students were struck by the lure of modern studies promise to fulfill all of mankind’s needs — The Torah’s ways are archaic and outdated; science alone provides all the answers to  that which ails the world.

This student after having been outside the Yeshiva for a while returned and said to Rav Chaim, “I want to come back, but I have many questions”. Rav Chaim asked him, “Did these questions come to you when you were in Yeshiva, or after you left?” The boy innocently asked, “What difference does it make- these are questions that I have”. To which Rav Chaim responded, “If these questions troubled you before you left Yeshiva, they are questions, and for questions I have answers. However, if these questions only began troubling after you left Yeshiva, then they aren’t questions, they are answers- and for answers I have no answers.

Bias blinds a man

Rav Chaim was explaining a basic principle in man: that bias greatly affects our ability to understand. If a person has a prejudice against a way of thinking then he isn’t open minded and he becomes incapable of hearing the truth- no matter how clear and no matter how obvious- because he isn’t listening. To allow for free will, HASHEM gave man this uncanny ability to shut his mind down, to ignore proofs and all logic and to blindly follow his desires. When a man has made up his mind and doesn’t want to hear the truth, there is nothing that can prove him wrong- his mind is shut.

This seems to be the answer to understanding Korach’s question. Korach wasn’t approaching Moshe seeking the truth; his sole intention was to mock and discredit Moshe. With that mindset, the strength of the question, and whether there was an answer to it, didn’t matter — because there was no question, only scorn and derision in the guise of a question. It was a question that had no answer because it wasn’t a question– it was an answer.

This concept has great relevance in our lives. There will be times when we are perplexed by situations that we don’t understand, and we don’t know which way to turn- the answers that we seek aren’t forthcoming. It may well be that we can’t find the answer- however sometimes the answer may elude us, not because the answer isn’t there-but because we aren’t listening. Sometimes the answer may be right there but we aren’t open to it- and so we can’t hear it. It’s not that there aren’t answers- it is that we aren’t asking questions- we are providing answers, and in that situation there are no answers.

HASHEM created man with a heart of truth, and if a person puts aside his bias and  opens his mind he is capable of hearing the answer. The key to the process is to ask himself one pointed question: What do I think is the truth? Forget my self interest, forget the consequences- what do I think the right path is? What do I think HASHEM wants me to do? If a person follows this process, their inner sense of truth will guide them past the  darkness and they will be able to find the truth.

“The Shmuz”, an engaging and motivating Torah lecture that deals with real life issues is available for FREE at www.TheShmuz.com. The new Shmuz book: Stop Surviving and Start Living is now in print! “Powerful”, “Thought Provoking”, “Life changing”, is what people are saying about it.  Copies are now available in stores, or at www.TheShmuz.com, or by calling 866-613-TORAH (8672).

What do I gain from all of this? Nothing. It’s not about me. These are simply things that I do for you. They make you happy, so I do them. So naturally, after all the things that I do for you, in return, I expect a few things,  minor things, like health, food, clothing, money, a house, a car, and a vacation each year — just the bare necessities of life.

What’s wrong with this picture? To answer this, we need to step away from our limited perspective.

Life is Like a Dream

Imagine you are aboard a large ship, set out on a beautiful ocean voyage. Not a care in the world, you relax to enjoy a well-earned break. On the second day of the journey, towards evening, the weather turns bad. Pelting rain. Howling winds. The vessel, once looming and enormous, seems to shrink as it is tossed and thrown by the ocean. You go down to your room and lie down to a fitful sleep. In the middle of the night, you awake with a jolt. The floor is bucking. The walls are shaking. You get out of bed and stumble, almost falling. You catch yourself and lurch to the door of your cabin.

Holding onto anything you can grab, you fight your way up to the deck and emerge to see nothing — a night as dark as pitch. The ship itself seems to be tearing apart with every roll and surge of the ocean. “This is bad,” you think to yourself. But you don’t realize how bad it is until you see the captain’s face as he addresses the crew. Abject terror grips him as he cries out, “We’re going down! Women and children first! Then every man for himself!”

Lifeboats fly overboard. People run. Jump. Almost as if in a dream, you move forward. You don’t know how, you don’t know why, but you find yourself in the ocean. The water is freezing. You can’t see. You’re so numb, you almost can’t feel. The blackness is everywhere. Somehow, you climb into an empty lifeboat — and pass out.

On the Island

Much later, you wake up, look around, and slowly come to your senses. “What? Huh? Where am I?” Slowly, you realize that you are shipwrecked on a deserted island. How much time has passed, you can’t tell. Where you are, you have no idea. The one thing you do know is that you are famished, and parched. A long row of trees stands in front of you. You enter, stumbling, hoping against hope that someone, anyone is there. After a while, you notice a path. At first, it’s just a break in the undergrowth; then slowly it becomes smoother and more defined. It leads you on to an opening. And you look out. In the distance stands a castle – moat and all – majestically set against a breathtaking backdrop of lush gardens and orchards. Almost trancelike, you walk towards it.  

As you get closer, you notice that the long drawbridge covering the moat is down, and the gate to the castle is wide open. You cross the bridge and enter. Before you stretches a long and stately hallway with an enormous regal ceiling. Suddenly, you are overcome by the sweet aromas wafting in the air. You almost forgot how hungry you were, but now it all comes back to you in a flash.

The smells draw you into a magnificent dining room. In the center sits an ornately-carved, mahogany table, twenty feet long—laden with fresh food. You look around. No one is there. Not a sound can be heard. You don’t know what to do. Your wonder doesn’t last long, though, as the grumbling in your stomach pulls at you. You sit down into a plush armchair at the head of the table, and begin wolfing down everything within reach.

After a while, your appetite subsides a bit, and you look at the different foods on the table. You are amazed—astonished would be a better word. Every delicacy, every gourmet dish you have ever heard of and many that you don’t even recognize, is set out on the table. It looks like it was all just prepared, waiting for someone. You continue eating until you are stuffed.

Slowly, you get up and wander about the room. Regal portraits adorn the walls. Gilded moldings trim the ceiling. You have never seen a room decorated with such care and attention to detail. “This is magnificent,” you think to yourself.

You walk out into the hallway, and the plush carpeting almost melts under your step. You pass a sitting room and then a library, as you walk around the most striking, elegant mansion you have ever seen. In the center is a grand, circular staircase. You climb up to see a string of rooms. . . and one door is ajar. You enter. In front of you is a bed, beautifully made with satin sheets, a ruffled pillowcase, and the bed sheets turned down invitingly. Your sense of wonder is overcome by sheer exhaustion. You lie down to sleep.

It Continues

Twelve hours later, much refreshed, you awaken to the smell of freshly brewed coffee. Heading back down those elegant stairs you climbed last night, you again see the dining room table filled with food, but this time with breakfast fare: eggs, pancakes, waffles, toast, and freshly-squeezed orange juice. The armchair is pulled out, and in front of it is a plate of your favorite food: pancakes with maple syrup. You sit down to a grand repast. After having your fill, you get up and go out for a walk to the back veranda.

In front of you stretches a beautifully-tended garden, with rosebushes and daffodils — all trimmed back, all arranged with great precision. You go for a long walk. When you return, you again find the dining room table set, but this time with lunch meats, fried potatoes, and Caesar salad. Again your chair is pulled out. It is becoming clear that something is going on.

That evening, as you climb back up the staircase and find the door to your room door open again, this time with a fire lit in the fireplace, the sheets turned down, and the shades drawn, it hits you,  “Someone is here. Someone is watching. Someone is taking care of me. But I don’t see a soul. I don’t hear a sound.”

The next day as you walk into the gardens, you discover a trail, heading into the woods. You follow it, and it leads you to a brook – crystal clear water gently flowing over a bed of rocks. “I always read about babbling brooks, but I never knew they actually made that sound,” you think to yourself. “It is so peaceful. Serene.” You reach down, cup your hands, scoop up some water, bring it to your lips for a nice cool drink – when you suddenly see a large yellow sign. Please! Please, do not drink from this brook. The water is poison.” You drop your hands; the water falls through your fingers. “Hmmmm…The sign. Who put it here? And the paint is fresh. It looks like it was just placed there today. Strange.”

You continue your walk, following the brook as it leads you to the other side of the island. You emerge into a clearing, and your breath leaves you as you see—a lagoon! Magnificent white sand surrounds a small lake of placid, warm water. “It looks so tempting. I think I’ll go in for dip.”

As you walk closer, you see another sign: “Please! Please do not swim here. This lagoon is infested with man eating piranhas.”

You look into the water, and there they are large, innocent looking fish – with the sharpest teeth you have ever seen. “Who put the sign there? What is going on?!”

The Secret Discovered

And this continues. Day after day, week after week, your every need is taken care of, your every requirement met, your every desire catered to. After an entire year of living in the castle, one morning as you come down the grand staircase, there is a rustling in the kitchen. Dishes clatter, frying pans clang, and a spoon scrapes against metal — someone is there!

You call out in a booming voice that you almost don’t recognize. “I don’t know who you are, I don’t know why you are doing this—but you make a mean roast beef. And those waffles. I mean, they are great. Thank you.”

Suddenly, the kitchen door flies open, and a parade of cooks, chefs, and wait staff pours out. Behind them walks the master of the manor. He motions for quiet. Everyone listens in revered silence as he speaks. “You have recognized me. You realized that I have been caring for you. Not only that, but you have thanked me. And even more, you obeyed my warnings. Not once did you drink the poisonous water. For all this, I am deeply, deeply appreciative. I don’t even have words to express how happy you have made me! And so, I feel that I must reward you. Because of what you have done, this mansion, its servants, its lands and holdings all belong to you – as a small token of my appreciation for this great service that you done for me. ”

What This Means

This is a parable to life. We are that guest and HASHEM is the master of the manor. From the time that we arrive on this planet, our every need is taken care of, and every requirement has been anticipated and planned for. We enjoy luxuries, pleasures, sights, sounds, flavors, aromas and tastes, each carefully designed and crafted for our enjoyment. We were given, health, well-being, food, clothing, a home, and our very existence. And HASHEM has given us a very exact game plan. Do this and don’t do that. This will help you grow and accomplish. This will damage you.

What does HASHEM ask in return? That we recognize Him. That we cut through the darkness and realize that there is a master to this home. Someone sets the table and cooks the food. If we recognize this, we are richly rewarded. If we manage to actually perceive our Creator, we acquire our World to Come, which is so magnificent that it defies description.

One of the hallmarks of maturity is understanding, and one of the understandings of a mature person is that HASHEM doesn’t need us. HASHEM lacks nothing and needs nothing. HASHEM created us to give to us, expecting nothing in return. He gave us all of the tools we need and the opportunity to spend a lifetime growing and accomplishing. And He gave us a system of self-perfection. The mitzvahs are the vehicles that allow us to grow.

While it is true that if we follow the Torah system, we will be rewarded for eternity – it isn’t because we deserve it. It is because our Creator is giving, loving and kindly. Everything that we do doesn’t help HASHEM. Torah, mitzvahs, emunah, bitachon — HASHEM doesn’t gain from them. We do. We improve; we grow. For eternity, we will be what we shaped ourselves into: great or mediocre, accomplished or impoverished. The greatest gift that HASHEM gave us is the gift of life. He also gave us health, well-being, and our very existence – all for our good, all for our benefit. .

“HASHEM you owe me. You owe me big time.”

Ah… somehow, I just don’t think so.  

The Bitachon Workshop is now available! It is a series of 24 shiurim dealing with the basics of Emunah and Bitachon. Using many real life situations it is a highly informative and motivating series.
 

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I’ve talked to HASHEM about it. I’ve explained it Him. I’ve even brokered deals with Him. “If You grant me this, I’ll …”

Yet for some reason, He just won’t listen.

“HASHEM, what’s the deal? Are you angry with me? Are You punishing me? Why do You insist in making my life so difficult? This is what I need. It’s so clear. Why won’t You just grant it to me?”  

And I go on asking questions. “It’s not fair. It doesn’t make sense! HASHEM, what do You want from me?”

The problem here is quite simple – I am playing G-d. I know exactly what I need, and now I have figure out how to get HASHEM to understand that. The simple reality that maybe, just maybe, this isn’t good for me never seems to cross my mind.

Historical Perspective

The strange part of this is that I have lived through situations that didn’t exactly turn out as I thought they would. I absolutely had to have that job; it was just what I needed. I could earn a living, support my family, and still have time to learn. It was the perfect fit. In the end, I didn’t get that job, and I had major questions. “HASHEM, why?! Why aren’t You there for me?” Then five years later, I find out that the entire industry is being shipped over to India. Oh…

I tried to marry that woman. She was perfect. Great match, good family. She would make a fantastic wife and mother for my children. And it didn’t go. “HASHEM why have you abandoned me? This is what I need!” She married someone else, and two years later, I find out that term “mentally unstable” is a mild description of her situation. Mmmmm….

Another time, my son absolutely, positively had to get into that class; it was just right for him. Great rebbe, good atmosphere – it was perfect for him. And the menahel wouldn’t let him in. “HASHEM, why? Where are You?” Then, two months later, I find out that there’s a child in that class who would have been the worst possible influence on my son. It would have been devastating. Hmm…

Part of Human Nature

And, we do this all the time. We act as if we truly know what is best for us. We run after it. We hotly pursue it for all we’re worth. “No obstacle is going to get in my way. Nothing will prevent this from coming about.” And when lo and behold my efforts are thwarted — the questions begin. “But, why? It’s not fair! I am a good person. HASHEM, why won’t You just help me?”

The problem here is quite simple; we are playing G-d. We act as if we know exactly what we need; we try to convince HASHEM to give it to us. And when it doesn’t go — the questions start.

And while it’s easy to see the folly of this when other people do it, when it happens in my world, then the real challenge begins. To break out of this, we need to change two perspectives. The first one is easy to grasp. The second one is far more difficult.

Perspective #1 – HASHEM Loves Me

The first perspective is that HASHEM loves me more than I love me. HASHEM is more concerned for my good than I am. HASHEM has my best interests at heart to an even greater extent than I do.

While this concept may sound lofty, it isn’t that far removed from us. To see it in action, all you have to do is study your life. Look back on the strange twists and turns of fate that brought you to where you are today. Every Jew has a story. “I met that person, who just happened to mention…” “I ended up in that that course, where it just so happened that….”

When you look back on the events that have shaped your life, you see the hand of HASHEM. You see HASHEM orchestrating the occurrences that shaped your life.  And now in hindsight, you see that HASHEM was taking care of you, guiding you, leading you.  While you were living through it, it looked “bad” It appeared that HASHEM didn’t care. However, after the fact, you understand that it was done out of love, and concern for your ultimate good.

Perspective #2 – HASHEM Knows Better Than I

However, knowing that HASHEM loves me is the easy part. The second concept, which is far more difficult, is knowing that HASHEM knows better than I what is best for me. And understanding that HASHEM knows better than me what it is that I need.

HASHEM created the heavens and all that they contain. He wrote the formulas for quantum physics and molecular biology. He views the entire universe with one glance. He sees the future as the past. And He has the wisdom to see far-reaching results. What will this bring to ten years from now? What will the consequences be twenty years from now?  

I, on the other hand, see about two inches in front of my face. I can’t remember what I had for breakfast this morning. I make mistakes. I blunder. I get confused and caught up. As much as I think I know, I am often wrong. That which I think will be so good for me, is so often just the opposite. And, I forget. I forget lessons. I forget facts. I forget results.  I forget consequences.

HASHEM doesn’t. HASHEM remembers every event since Creation. And HASHEM made me. He is my Creator, and He knows me even better than I do. And so HASHEM understands my needs better than I do.

While this may sound obvious, it is —until it comes to the thick and thin of life. In the busyness of doing, and going, and accomplishing, this simple reality fades from my sight. I need that. I must have this. I have to accomplish that. And, when I face the brick wall blocking my path – I push on, bucking against everything in front of me. And I ask questions: “HASHEM, where are You? Why aren’t You helping me?”

The idea that maybe, just maybe HASHEM is telling me something. Maybe HASHEM is saying no – never seems to cross my mind. Maybe it’s not going, because it’s not supposed to go. Maybe HASHEM knows better than I what is for my best. “Hmmmm…. Never thought about that.”

Putting It Into Practice

When I fully embrace these two ideas — that HASHEM loves me more than I love me and that HASHEM knows better than I what is best for me — I approach life differently. I still try. I still put in my effort. I use my wisdom, reach decisions, and then pursue them but now it’s different.

I have my part, and HASHEM has His. My role is to go through the motions; HASHEM is responsible for the outcome. And if I try and it doesn’t go, and I try again and it still doesn’t go, I don’t kick. I accept. When opportunities don’t present themselves despite my best efforts, I turn my eyes to heaven and say, “HASHEM, You know best. I trust in You.”

And finally I understand life and my place in it. I am the creation, and HASHEM, You are my Creator. I am but an actor on the stage; I have my part to play, You direct the play, and You alone write the script. I know that you love me and take care of me. My job is to do; and You take care of the rest.

The Bitachon Workshop is now available! It is a series of 24 shiurim dealing with the basics of Emunah and Bitachon. Using many real life situations it is a highly informative and motivating series.
 

Please click here for more information

Still, my wife and I were newly married and money wasn’t plentiful, so when I discussed the idea with her, she was a bit hesitant, but said, “If you feel it’s a good idea, go ahead.” So we agreed that the next day I would invest two thousand dollars in the initial public offering.

That night, for some reason, my wife turned to the business section of Newsweek and read an article about Amazon. “Jeff Bezos has a million dollars in personal credit card debt…He is asking fifteen dollars a share…The company has nowhere near that market value…” On and on, the article ragged against the stock.  

My wife brought the piece to me. “What do you want to do?” she asked.

“What do you want to do?” I responded.

“I think it’s just too risky.”

“OK, fine.”

And I didn’t purchase the stock.  

Let’s imagine for a moment that I had. And let’s say that I had held onto those shares till today. The last time I counted, those two thousand dollars were worth 1.4 million dollars. 1.4 million dollars is a tidy sum of money! Not that we lack, but I can think of some clever things to do with 1.4 million dollars. Aw, shucks!

Aw, shucks is a lack of bitachon. Aw, shucks means, “If only I would have convinced her. Why didn’t I push harder? I could have, should have, would have …”

However, if I accept that every Rosh Hashanah HASHEM decrees how much money I will make that year – that means that I accept that HASHEM decrees how much money I will make that year. A lot or a little. A huge fortune or whatever. But that is the point. HASHEM is in charge. He runs the world. He knows what is best for me and He orchestrates events the way He sees is for the best.

And so, for some strange reason, my wife just happened to read that section of Newsweek the very night before I was to buy those shares. Even though she doesn’t normally read the business section. And even though Time magazine had a very different take on the situation, and had she read that article, she would have had a different opinion. But she read the Newsweek article at that time, and brought it to my attention because that money wasn’t supposed to be part of our future.

This is a critical factor in learning to trust HASHEM. Whether I recognize it as good or not, I trust that HASHEM knows better than I, and HASHEM orchestrates the events of my life for my good.

In this case, it doesn’t take a rocket scientist to recognize why a young fellow in kollel might be better off without 1.4 million dollars. But that is the point. One who trusts in HASHEM has no regrets. No could have, should have, would have. “Oh, I should have invested in real estate in the eighties!” “Why didn’t I buy gold when it was up!?” “Why didn’t I get out of the market a year earlier?” All of these are the words of a person who is in this world on his own – a man who enters the uncertainty of a volatile marketplace, alone. And then he suffers regrets. Regret that he didn’t buy more. Regret that he didn’t get that lucky break. Regret that he chose what he chose.

If I wasn’t sensible or if I didn’t do my due diligence, then there is plenty of room for regret. But that regret is because I failed. I wasn’t wise. I didn’t act as I should have. But assuming that I was judicious and prudent, then I have full trust in HASHEM. HASHEM directs every transaction. HASHEM knows better than I what is for my best, and HASHEM orchestrates events towards that end. And therefore, there is no remorse, no regret.

The Bitachon Workshop is now available! It is a series of 24 shiurim dealing with the basics of Emunah and Bitachon. Using many real life situations it is a highly informative and motivating series.
 

Please click here for more information

The World of Peter Pan

I won’t grow up, no I won’t grow up.

I will never wear a tie; no I’ll never wear a tie.

No, I won’t grow up, never grow up, never grow up. Not I.

– Peter Pan

One of the results of Hashem putting our holy nishamah into a corporeal body is that we are unable to see certain realities. We may be aware of them, but we can’t feel them. One of these is our mortality. We have great difficulty seeing ourselves dying. It’s not that we don’t want to think about death or that the thought makes us uncomfortable. It’s much more basic — we just don’t intend to die. In our operating mode of thought, it’s just not going to happen. Of course, we know that it will occur, but it doesn’t enter into our thinking. Intellectually we know it, but emotionally it remains in some far off place, and we certainly don’t live life as if it will ever end.

 For example: as a rule, mature people are responsible. They put away money for retirement. They buy life insurance — just in case. They set up annuities for the grandchildren — who aren’t even born yet. Everything in life is all planned for. Everything all arranged. Yet somehow, there is one small detail that gets overlooked: what happens after they die?

If dying were a serious possibility, wouldn’t you spend time thinking about it? You planned your career. You carefully picked a neighborhood for your family to live in. You were highly selective in choosing schools for your children. When you were sick, you didn’t say, “We’ll just see what happens.” Every part of life was worked out — no stone was left unturned. It’s only this one little area you forgot to deal with: the purpose of life and what happens to me when it’s over. 

The reason we don’t think about this is that we don’t see ourselves ever dying. Of course, on one level we know it. After all, how many people do you know who shook hands with George Washington? How many people can say they met Abraham Lincoln? I may even be able to quote the annual death rate of people in my age bracket by region, but that remains in theory. In the emotional realm, in my real mode of functioning, it will never happen. And we just go on without a care in the world.

Getting Real

This blindness has a real cost. Before a person can think about living with a purpose, he must understand life. And until death becomes real to him, his life remains a never-ending Disney adventure — the world of Peter Pan, where the current situation will last forever, and nothing bad will ever happen. Most of humanity spend their existence in this fantasy world. And much like Peter Pan, in their heart of hearts, each person feels, “I won’t grow old. Not I. I will always be young and healthy, and of course, I will never die.” And so, like children, they spend their time playing with things. Big toys, little toys, trinkets and playthings, castles and moats, bridges and boats, medals of honor and badges of prestige, and of course money, money and some more money. Oh, so luscious and green and crumply. Oh, how happy it makes me!

And while it’s true that in this dream world life is cheap and meaningless, it sure is fun! Live it up! You only get one shot at this thing called life — you might as well enjoy it now. Let’s party! And the carnival goes on and on and on. Until, they get sick, or old, or infirm or bored, and everything comes to a crashing halt. The party ends. And then the questions begin. Many questions. Real questions. Of course, in their fantasy lives, they were too busy to ask questions. But now, the questions appear. Questions on God. Questions on suffering. Questions that need answers. Questions that have no answers because they are based on a world of make-believe that misconstrues the very reason behind existence.

Amazingly, up until that point, not only weren’t there questions, there wasn’t even the realization that the celebration would one day end.

Understanding the Master Plan

This phenomenon isn’t simply a quirk in human behavior. It is critical to the master plan of Creation. If I could think about my death in a real manner, it would radically change my life. I would be forced to deal with those issues that I currently ignore: Why did Hashem create me? What is it that I am supposed to accomplish with my life? These questions would loom so large in front of me that I would have to seek out answers. Those answers would compel me to change.

I wouldn’t be able to live in the slumber that I do now. I could no longer spend my time on frivolous pursuits. My nishamah would scream out, “Do something! Accomplish! How can you waste your life like that?”

Even the body’s appetites and desires wouldn’t be able to pull me, as I would recognize that following them damages me. I would view temptations as I do any physical danger. Just as it’s obvious that no matter how thirsty I am, I wouldn’t drink bleach, so, too, no amount of passion could seduce me to do things that I recognize as self-destructive. And I would ignore the body’s foolish demands.

 In short, I would live a focused, directed existence, and I would function on a lofty level and achieve great things. But it wouldn’t be by choice. I would be forced into it. And that isn’t free will. To allow for practical free will, both sides have to be equally viable. Living a life of purpose has to be as easy as losing one’s way. Thinking has to be effortless as going to “sleep” — getting so caught up in the process of living that I never deal with the most basic of all issues.

Because of this, no matter how obvious it is to others, his end will be hidden from him. Whether he has an IQ of 180 or the intelligence of a gnat, it will be difficult for him to see his death. And that is the critical distinction: difficult but not impossible. Man isn’t forced to succeed, but success is within his reach. He can go either way. It is in his capacity to just float, never giving more than a passing thought to why he exists, or he can live with meaning and intention and craft a significant life.

This is an excerpt from the new Shmuz on Life book: Stop Surviving and Start Living. The book will be in seforim stores beginning April 2011. Pre releases copies are available now at  www.TheShmuz.com.

“Send forth men, if you please, and let them spy out the land of Canaan that I give to the Children of Israel” — Bamidbar 13:2

Timeline of the miraglim

The parsha of Shelach opens up with the story of the miraglim. Rashi notes that the previous parsha ended with the story of Miriam getting tzaras and being sent out of the camp because she spoke loshon harah about Moshe. Since this parsha begins with the miraglim, it implies that these two events are connected. But Rashi is bothered by the fact that they did not happen in chronological proximity. The events of the Korach rebellion were sandwiched in between.

Rashi explains that the Torah took these two events and juxtaposed them to teach us a lesson: Had the miraglim not been so wicked, they would have learned from what happened to Miriam, and that would have prevented them from saying their negative report about the land. However, says Rashi, “These wicked people saw what happened and didn’t learn from it.”

The Miraglim’s sin was a

lack of bitachon, not

speaking loshon harah.

The miraglim’s sin wasn’t loshon harah

The problem with this Rashi is that the miraglim’s sin had nothing to do with loshon harah; it emanated from a lack of trust in HASHEM. When they entered the land, they saw giants occupying fortified cities. They witnessed people dying left, right, and center. In their minds, if the Jewish nation attempted to conquer this land, they would be slaughtered wholesale – man, woman, and child.

Clearly, they were lacking in bitachon. Their faith in HASHEM was deficient. But they weren’t guilty of speaking loshon harah. First off, there is no prohibition against speaking loshon harah about land. Land is inanimate. We are forbidden from derogatory speech about people – not rocks.

Of even greater significance, once the miragalim made their mistake and concluded that HASHEM wasn’t powerful enough to bring us into the land, what they then spoke wasn’t loshon harah at all. In their calculation, they were saving the Jewish people from utter destruction, in which case it wasn’t forbidden speech; it was a mitzvah.

Why does the Torah forbid loshon harah?

The answer to this question stems from understanding why the Torah forbids loshon harah. The Rambam defines loshon harah as words that hurt, words that damage. Whether they cause a person embarrassment, loss of income, or sully his reputation, the very definition of loshon harah is words that cause harm. That is the reason the Torah forbids us to speak it – not because the Torah is so strict, but because words can have such a harmful effect.

To appreciate the damage that words can cause, imagine that I discover a cloak of invisibility. When I put this cape on, I can walk around freely without anyone seeing me. Imagine for a moment that after I find this cloak, I decide to have some fun. As I walk around the bais medrash, I take a sefer from one fellow and turn it upside down. Oh, his reaction when he sees it! Then I walk over to another fellow and close his Gemara. “Hey! What happened?” Next, I see a pair of charvusahs who are standing up for a moment. I walk over and put both of their Gemaras back on the shelf. “What–?”

I am having a jolly time!

After a while, I get a bit bolder. As someone is walking by, I leave my foot in the aisle. “Heyyyyyyyyyyyyyy!” he yells as he falls to the floor with a crash.

“This is fun,” I think to myself. And now I really start to get into it.

As a fellow walks by, I give him a punch in the stomach, “Ohhhhhhhhhhhhh!” The next guy, I smash in the back, “Agggggh!” And before you know it, guys are falling, getting smashed, and really getting hurt. The joke is no longer funny.

The Chofetz Chaim points out to us that the Torah reserves a curse for one who “hits his neighbor while hiding.” Chazal explain that this refers to someone who speaks loshon harah about his friend. Why am I so cavalier about what I say about him? Because he isn’t here. If he were standing right nearby, I would never say what I said. I say it only because he isn’t around. And in that sense, I am hitting him while hiding.

One of the reasons that we have difficulty controlling our speech is that we don’t see it as truly damaging. “What is the big deal if I tell an interesting story or two?” we say. While I would never dream of physically harming you, when it comes to ruining your reputation, damaging your business, or causing you harm in the way that people perceive you, then I am much less concerned. The Torah is teaching us that loshon harah is forbidden because of the power of the words and the damage they can cause. That is why they are forbidden. 

The power of speech

The answer to this question on the miraglim seems to be that they should have seen what happened to Miriam and learned one lesson from it – the power of speech. They should have thought to themselves, “If such a tzadekes said something only slightly questionable about her brother whom she loved and revered and had to be sent out of the encampment for seven days to suffer embarrassment and public humiliation, what does that tell us about the impact of her words? Why did HASHEM act so harshly with her? It must be that what she did was far more egregious than we realized. It must be that her words – while merely speech – are a powerful force.”

Had the miraglim learned this lesson, they would have been far more careful in their speech. They would have thought many times about the consequences of their words, and that would have made them stop and think to themselves, “Before we bring back this report, are we sure? Are we a hundred percent certain that the Jewish people will die trying to conquer this land? Didn’t HASHEM bring us out of Mitzrayim? Didn’t HASHEM split the sea for us?”

Understanding the power of speech would have caused them to think about the consequences, and the results might well have been very different.

This concept has great relevance in our lives. Most of the damage that we do through speech isn’t malicious or with bad intent. We speak without thinking about the consequences, without contemplating the results. The Torah is teaching us the power of those words and how careful we have to be with what we say, not because the Torah is machmir when it comes to sins of speech, but because of the effect that speech has to help or to harm – because of the power of the spoken word.

For more on this topic please listen to Shmuz #139- The Power of Speech

“The Shmuz”, an engaging and motivating Torah lecture that deals with real life issues is available for FREE at www.TheShmuz.com. The new Shmuz book: Stop Surviving and Start Living is now in print! “Powerful”, “Thought Provoking”, “Life changing”, is what people are saying about it.  Copies are now available in stores, or at www.TheShmuz.com, or by calling 866-613-TORAH (8672).

“And HASHEM said to Moshe, “Descend, warn the people, lest they break through to HASHEM to see, and a multitude of them will fall.’” – Shemos 19:21

The moment in history

The entire nation – every man, woman and child – was gathered at the foot of Har Sinai for what was to be the greatest revelation in the annals of history. HASHEM’s voice was about to be heard.

In addition to the transmission of the Torah, the event would forever carve into human awareness the understanding that HASHEM is the Creator. Never before or since has a generation reached that level of understanding. Chazal say that the heavens and earth were opened to the Jewish people, and everyone there reached the level of prophecy. 

However, there were limitations; the people could only go so far. There is only so much that a human can withstand and not go into sensory overload. Therefore, HASHEM told Moshe, “Warn them that whoever will touch the mountain will die.” Moshe was to ascend alone. The rest of the nation had to remain below.

Yet directly before the receiving of the Torah, HASHEM told Moshe to go down and warn the people a second time not to go up the mountain. Rashi explains why HASHEM repeated the warning: “Because of their deep desire to see HASHEM, they might ascend the mountain.” Even though they were warned previously, and even though they knew that going up would spell their death, they might still go up because of a powerful craving to be close to HASHEM.

They were already warned

This Rashi seems difficult to understand. If HASHEM told them not go up, and it was explained that the penalty for doing so would be death, wouldn’t that be enough to stop them from violating HASHEM’s command? 

What makes this question particularly troubling is that this generation understood the gravity of their actions. They lived through the makkos and then kriyas Yam Suf. They saw the glory and power of HASHEM. At that moment, they were privy to a level of understanding that few humans have ever achieved, which means that they not only understood that HASHEM didn’t want them going up to the actual mountain, they also understood that if they did, they would surely die. 

Breaking into Fort Knox

As a parallel, imagine we were to meet a man with an extraordinary desire for money. Nothing stops him. He’ll steal, cheat, lie, swindle — anything to make his fortune. But even he won’t be tempted to break into Fort Knox. The armed guards standing there with their machine guns poised are so threatening, and the danger is so real, that despite his great desire for money, the certainty of his death would prevent him from even thinking of breaking in.

So too, the generation at Sinai fully understood the consequences of moving forward. How would it be possible that they would still be tempted to go up the mountain?

Human comprised of distinct parts

The answer to this question seems to be based on a fundamental understanding of man.

To make man, HASHEM took opposites entities and molded them into one. Within me is a part with deep-set needs to do that which is noble and proper — and within me is a part that just doesn’t care. The part of me that only wants that which is good is made up of pure intelligence — sechel. The part of me that doesn’t care about anything other than my own needs is made up of base instincts and desires — the Nefesh Ha’Bahami.

My sechel clearly recognizes HASHEM as the source of everything and only wishes to be close to my Creator. It actually hungers to be close to HASHEM and pulls me that way. My Nefesh Ha’Bahami can’t recognize or understand anything other than drives and desires, hungers and appetites. It can’t see HASHEM, nor does it care to.

The reason that I have such conflicting desires, interests, goals, and passions is that these two parts of me, these complete opposites, are each battling for primacy over me. So I deeply crave being close to HASHEM, and I also just don’t care. Same me, just different elements coming to the surface.

Deep Desire  to be Close to HASHEM

The Mesillos Yesharim explains that by nature, I would be pulled towards HASHEM like a piece of iron is to a magnet. It is the layers and layers of physicality that block the pull. He writes that my sole focus in life should be to break through those layers of physicality until I am again drawn after HASHEM like iron to a magnet.

The role of mitzvos

The reason that we find serving HASHEM difficult, and the reason we find experiencing HASHEM’s presence elusive, is because of the layers and layers of desires, instincts, and passions that cover up and block our nishoma’s receptivity. It’s almost like putting a fine radio receiver into a concrete bomb shelter. The radio waves are in the air, but the tons of concrete will block them.

The way that a person increases his spiritual receptivity is by keeping and learning the Torah, the ultimate system of self-perfection. All of the mitzvos strengthen my nishoma and help to break the hold the Nefesh Ha’Bahami has over me. The more a person is involved in learning Torah and doing mitzvos, the stronger the nishoma becomes, and the easier it is for him to experience HASHEM. 

The Klal Yisroel had a taivah to be close to HASHEM

The answer to the question on Rashi seems to be that when the Jewish people were standing at the base of Har Sinai, they reached unprecedented levels of spirituality. Their outside casing had very little influence on them. Their pure nishomas came to the fore. In that state, man is irresistibly drawn to his Creator — pulled, mesmerized. Consequences don’t matter; results are irrelevant. The human needs to be close to HASHEM.

HASHEM was warning Moshe of the inherent danger. Since they were going to see HASHEM so clearly, they would also feel an almost unstoppable urge for closeness to Him. That pull could be so strong that some individuals might go beyond the limit. Even though they were aware of the risk to their lives, it wouldn’t stop them because of their insatiable desire to be close to HASHEM. And so, HASHEM told Moshe, “Warn them again.”

In our world – learning to experience HASHEM

There is a very real lesson for us in this. Often, we may find it difficult to daven properly, or it may be hard to feel the spirituality of Shabbos. These difficulties are the natural consequence of our physical side.

However, we are also pure sechel. There is a part of each of us that deeply craves speaking to our Creator. There is a component in us that hungers for spiritual growth. By learning Torah and doing mitzvos with fervor and energy, I bring that part to the fore until it becomes stronger, and my physical side becomes weaker. That is how I grow. But not only do I grow, I grow in my desire to be more spiritual, to learn more, to daven with more kavanah. It begins an upward spiral. By putting this process into practice, a person can continue to grow throughout life, reaching higher levels and thereby fulfilling the reason he was put on this planet — to perfect himself and to enjoy that level of perfection for eternity.

For more on this topic please listen to Shmuz #74 – D’Vaikus in Our Times

Lance Armstrong is one of the most celebrated athletes in the world. Seven-time winner of the Tour de France bicycle race, he is an icon on the stage of the international sports. As much as he is regarded as a competitor, he is respected for his courage — the athlete personifying true grit.

Yet his career wasn’t a walk in the park. At the age of twenty-one, he was diagnosed with an aggressive form of cancer and given a twenty percent chance of survival. His racing days were clearly over. Much to his doctors’ surprise, he survived. While recovering, he began thinking about racing again. Seven years later, he went on to become the second American in history to win the Tour de France, a race known as the world’s toughest sporting event. He then went on to win that race seven years in a row, setting a record that may never be broken. 

While in the process of setting that record, and then only moderately famous, Lance was interviewed by a reporter about his comeback from cancer. In the course of the discussion, the reporter couldn’t help but notice how lightly he seemed to take the disease. Not only wasn’t he bitter about the experience, it seemed that he was flippant — maybe even happy about it. At one point the reporter said, “The way that you speak about cancer, it almost sounds like you are glad that it happened.”

He replied, “Why would I give up the single greatest thing that happened to me? It made my career. It made my life. Knowing that it could all be over was the most life-changing experience I ever went through. Why would I ever want to give that up?”

A Very Different Perspective

Those are very powerful words and a perspective on death that few people have.

Thinking about death is depressing — if you don’t understand life. If life is a party and death is the end, then death is a downer. If, however, the reason we are here on this planet makes sense, then death isn’t depressing; it is a galvanizing, energizing thought. It gets you out of bed in the morning and keeps you moving at night. It gives you the energy to change and to grow. The knowledge that this program is timed adds the sparkle and the luster — almost, if you will, the fun — to life. Few things in the world are as dreary as an empty existence, time with nothing to do. Few things make an event as tedious as no goals and no end in sight.

Ironically, the more a person embraces the reality of death, the more he enjoys life. Provided he understands life and how to live it, the thought of the death awakens him and adds spark and vigor to his days. And with it comes a deep sense of balance and harmony. However, a truly mature perspective on life isn’t easy to achieve. It doesn’t come about by studying some texts and then whamo — everything changes. It requires a change in our emotional makeup, and that takes time, a lot of thinking, and constant reinforcement. And even then, we may have it clearly in front of our eyes at one moment, but then it slips away and we find ourselves again living half asleep.

There is a very real message to us in this as well. If we would ever be gut-wrenchingly, brutally honest with ourselves and recognize that one day we will leave this earth, that awareness alone would change the whole balance of life. Our nishamos would scream out, “Do something! You only have a short while here. Discover your purpose and pursue it for all you’re worth, darn it!” The result would be a life that is more directed, more passionate, and more meaningful. We would recognize the extraordinary value of life and what we are here to accomplish. And we would be so much more alive, living by design, not by chance. The first step is to be aware of the importance of accepting death. When we do, death becomes something that we embrace, and we find different venues and opportunities to experience it and make it real.

This is an excerpt from the new Shmuz on Life book: Stop Surviving and Start Living. The book will be in seforim stores beginning April 2011. Pre releases copies are available now at  www.TheShmuz.com.

“Speak to the Bnai Yisrael and say to them: any man whose wife shall go astray and commit treachery against him. . . ” — Bamidbar 5:12

The Parsha of Sotah

The Torah describes the details of a sotah. If a woman acts in a manner that causes her husband to suspect her of infidelity, he should warn her not to go into seclusion with that other man. If she violates this warning, then the husband is to take her to the Kohain. The Kohain will give her the “bitter waters” to drink. If she was unfaithful, she will instantly die. If she was not unfaithful, she will be redeemed and blessed.

When the Torah lays out the details, it uses an unusual expression: כי תשטה “If a man will ‘tistheh’ his wife.” The word “tishteh” comes from the root “shoteh,” which means insanity. It’s as if to say, “If a man will accuse his wife of insanity.”

Rashi is troubled by the use of this expression. He explains, based on the Gemara, adulterers do not sin until a wave of insanity enters them. The Siftei Chachmim explains this to mean, “until their yetzer harah teaches them it is permitted.”

It seems clear from the Siftei Chachaim that the modus operandi of the yetzer harah is to convince the potential sinners that the act tempting them is permitted. Only when it succeeds, and they are convinced, will they then transgress.

This statement — people only sin when they are convinced that it is permitted — seems difficult to understand. If we are dealing with a pious, proper Jewish woman who got into a bad situation, she knows that the act that she wants to commit is forbidden. How can the yetzer harah teach her that it is permitted? On the other hand, the Torah may be speaking about the opposite extreme — a woman who has gone off the path and just doesn’t care. Why does she need the yetzer harah to tell her it is permitted? She doesn’t care.

So on both sides of the spectrum, the yetzer harah either should not be able to convince the person that it is permitted, or it shouldn’t need to convince them.

 Who would believe the
yetzer harah that adultery
is permitted?

I never do anything wrong

The answer to this question is based on understanding one of the most consistent quirks of human nature: “I never do anything wrong.” Whether dealing with sophisticated adults or schoolchildren, whether Supreme Court justices or convicted felons, the human seems never to do anything wrong. Wardens will tell you that their jails are filled with self-proclaimed innocent men. Criminals aren’t wrong. Thieves aren’t wrong. Murderers aren’t wrong. You won’t find a gangster proclaiming, “Yes, it is evil to murder and pillage, but what can I do? I am weak and give into my desires.” Instead, you will hear an entire belief system explaining that his approach to life is actually better for society and the world. 

The question is why? Why can’t man just admit: it is wrong to steal, but I want to do it anyway?

The inner workings of the human

The reason for this has to do with the inner working of the human. HASHEM created man out of two distinct parts. One is comprised all of the drives and passions found in the animal kingdom; it is simply base instincts and desires. The other part of man is pure intellect: holy, good and giving. That part of me wishes to be generous and noble and only aspires for that which is good.

Because this part of me is made up of pure intellect and wisdom, it would never allow me to sin. It sees the results too clearly. It understands that all of HASHEM’s commandments are for my good and that every sin damages me. Because of this crystal clear insight, the human would not have the free will to sin. In theory, he could be tempted to sin, but he would never actually come to the act. It would be akin to sticking his hand in a fire. In theory he could do it, but it would never happen. It’s a dumb thing to do. So if HASHEM created man with just these two parts, man would not have free will in a practical sense.

To allow man to be tempted so that he can choose his course and be rewarded for his proper choices, HASHEM put another component in man: imagination. Imagination is the creative ability to form a mental picture and feel it as vividly as if it were real. Armed with an imagination, man can create fanciful worlds at his will and actually believe them. If man wishes to turn to evil, he can create rationales to make these ways sound noble and proper — and fool himself at least. If he wishes, he can do what is right, or if he wishes, he can turn to wickedness. Even his brilliant intellect won’t prevent him. He is capable of creating entire worldviews that explain how the behavior he desires is righteous, correct, and appropriate. Now man has free will.

The answer to the Rashi is on two levels. First off, we see the power of rationalizing. Even a fully mature, pious woman who grew up in the best of homes can be convinced, on some level, that illicit relations are permitted. The yetzer harah will use her imagination and create clever and creative ways to explain that black is white, in is out, and arayos is permitted. As ridiculous as it sounds, that is the power given to the yetzer harah.

The second idea is that even the woman who seems to be off the derech and wouldn’t need an excuse really does. No human can ever do something that is wrong. Because of the greatness of her soul and the truth that she knows deep down inside, she understands that for a married woman to go to another man is forbidden. The only way that she can perpetrate this act is if she has a rational way of explaining how in fact it is permitted. The human is incapable of doing something wrong. The only way he can do something wrong is by making it right.

For more on this topic please listen to Shmuz #19 I Never Do Anything Wrong

“The Shmuz”, an engaging and motivating Torah lecture that deals with real life issues is available for FREE at www.TheShmuz.com. The new Shmuz book: Stop Surviving and Start Living is now in print! “Powerful”, “Thought Provoking”, “Life changing”, is what people are saying about it.  Copies are now available in stores, or at www.TheShmuz.com, or by calling 866-613-TORAH (8672).

“The families of the children of Korach would encamp on the side of the Tabernacle, to the south.” — Bamidbar 3:29

Yissochor and Zevulun became the teachers and supporters of Torah

Rashi quotes the Medrash, “Yissochor and Zevulun became great in Torah because their tents were placed next to the tents of Moshe, Aharon, and his sons. The 250 individuals who joined Korach in his rebellion against HASHEM, on the other hand, did so because their tents were located next to Korach’s.” From here Chazal learn, “Praise be a tzaddik, and praise be his neighbors. Woe to the rasha, and woe to his neighbors.”

The Medrash seems to attribute both the great success of Yissochor and Zevulun as well as the utter destruction of Korach’s congregation to the influence of neighbors. This seems to imply that the pivot point for both groups was who they associated with.

What makes this statement startling is the distance between the fate of each group. Throughout the generations, the role of Torah teachers was given to Yissochor, and the role of supporting Torah went to Zevulun. In this way, they reached the heights of greatness. On the flip side, the people who followed Korach in rebellion against HASHEM are depicted as still burning in Gehinom to this day. Yet this Medrash seems to be saying that the followers of Yissochor, Zevulun, and Korach all began at the same starting point. The difference was where they dwelled.

How could something so trivial make such a difference?

It seems difficult to understand how such a stark difference in results could be caused simply by living in close proximity to one person. This question becomes compounded when we take into account the circumstances and the times.

These events were taking place during the forty years in the midbar. Rather than bringing the Jewish people directly to Eretz Yisroel, HASHEM cloistered them within the confines of the Clouds of Glory. Locking them away from the world allowed them to become spiritual giants. All of their physical needs were taken care of: they ate the mon delivered to the doors of their tents; they drank water from the be’er; their clothes didn’t tatter; and their shoes didn’t wear out. They experienced countless overt miracles.

They had all received the Torah

Furthermore, all of the individuals involved had not long before stood at the foot of Har Sinai. When HASHEM proclaimed for the entire world to hear, “I am HASHEM your G-d,” every man woman and child standing there reached a level of seeing HASHEM greater than a Navi. They experienced HASHEM’s presence first-hand.

With that experience came a clear understanding of the purpose of life. The Jews at Sinai fully recognized that we are put on the planet for a few short years with a specific mission to grow, to accomplish, and to shape ourselves into what we will be for eternity. They knew that whatever state of perfection we reach here, we will enjoy forever.  

How then is it possible that something as seemingly inconsequential as living next to a tzaddik or a rasha could spell ruination or great success?

The human: a social being

The answer to this question seems to be that we humans are social beings, and because of this, we are exquisitely sensitive to influence from others. One of our needs is to belong. We need friendships, we crave associations, and we hunger for a sense of community. When we fit into a group that we feel a part of, we identify with that group. This is our chevra, our circle of friends, and it becomes almost an extension of us. Our circle of friends affects our value systems, the way we view ourselves, and our roles in all that we do. But it’s a double-edged sword. It can be one of the greatest aids to a person’s spiritual growth or the greatest liability . . .

Because the 250 men who rebelled lived in Korach’s vicinity, this became their community, their peer group. As such, it created their social environment. Korach yielded great social equity in that group, and he led the march to its abysmal failure. But those who lived in the immediate proximity of Moshe and Aharon were affected by a different force. The presence of Moshe Rabbeinu shaped the social fabric of that group. Its norms and ideals were shaped by a Torah giant. The social atmosphere had such an effect that Yissochor and Zevulun were changed for generations.

Chazal are teaching us that the great heights one group reached and the low depths to which the other sank were due to one factor — peer pressure. This is an eye-opening revelation as to the power of influence.

The average person is smarter than the average person

One of the quirks of human nature is that the average person assumes that he is smarter than the average person. Often times, when we are confronted by the foibles of human nature, we exclaim, “How strange is the human!” But we forget to take that next critical step — remembering that “I too am a human.”

When it comes to issues like the influence of friends, we may agree that it is significant in the lives of some, and certainly in the lives of teenagers. However, once we are fully-formed adults with a mature understanding of life and the world, we think these concepts no longer apply to us.

What we see from this Chazal is a very different perspective. The 250 men who joined Korach were men of greatness. They were distinct and illustrious, singled out by name in the beginning of Bamidbar, yet they were influenced to rebel against HASHEM. The tribes of Yissochor and Zevulun included many fully mature adults, and they became great Torah leaders, all because of the influence of others.

This is a powerful insight into the effect of the friends that we keep and their impact upon who we wish to become.

Why should something

as trivial as living next door

to someone have such a

great influence?

“The Shmuz”, an engaging and motivating Torah lecture that deals with real life issues is available for FREE at www.TheShmuz.com. The new Shmuz book: Stop Surviving and Start Living is now in print! “Powerful”, “Thought Provoking”, “Life changing”, is what people are saying about it.  Copies are now available in stores, or at www.TheShmuz.com, or by calling 866-613-TORAH (8672).

“If you go in my ways and follow my statutes…Five of you will chase a hundred, and a hundred of you will chase ten thousand, and they will fall from your sword.” Vayikra 26:8

The Torah is very explicit that if the Jewish nation follows the ways of HASHEM, we will enjoy peace, prosperity, and success in all of our endeavors. We will plant and harvest abundant crops, our borders will be secure, – life will be good. Included in this is a guarantee that in battle with our enemies we will be astonishingly successful; small numbers of our weakest soldiers will chase down and annihilate far larger groups of the enemy.

When describing this phenomenon, the Torah is very specific: five of you will chase a hundred, and a hundred of you will chase ten thousand. Rashi is troubled by the proportions. If five will chase a hundred, then the ratio is 1:20. By that proportion, a hundred should chase 2,000. Yet the Torah tells us that 100 will chase 10,000, a ratio that is five times greater than what it should be. Why would the group of a hundred be five times more effective than the group of five?

Rashi explains: “There is no comparison between a few keeping the Torah to a multitude keeping the Torah.”

Why should larger numbers make a difference?

It is clear from this Rashi that the only distinction between the two groups is in numbers. Rashi isn’t saying that the group of a hundred had more kavanah when they did the mitzvah. Nor is he telling us that they were greater people, or that they were engaged in a holier act. The only difference is that there are more of them involved. The question is: why should a larger group be exponentially more effective simply because of its size?

If Rashi were telling us that from a psychological  standpoint there is strength in numbers and the group gives chizuk to each other so that they will fight better — it would make sense. Or if because they were a large assembly of people, they were strengthening each other in the purity of their intentions and were more l’shmo, we could understand why they would be more successful. However, that isn’t the difference. It is simply the fact that there are more of them. Why should the same people, on the same madgregah, doing the same mitzvah, be so many more times successful simply because they are a larger group?

The answer to this question lies in understanding the systems that HASHEM created and gave over to man.

A change in the world order

On August 6, 1945, the Japanese city of Hiroshima was obliterated. Never before in the course of history had man unleashed so much power and destruction in one act. For many, it took a long time to comprehend. How was it possible to destroy an entire city? Man had been using explosives for thousands of years, but nothing of this magnitude. There were five hundred pound bombs that could destroy buildings, one thousand pound bombs that could level an apartment complex, but how did they wipe out a city? Miles and miles of rubble and destruction — everything leveled. “How large can the bomb possibly be? How many explosives can you possibly pack into one plane?”

The reason that it was so difficult to comprehend was because the force was derived from a completely different set of principles and didn’t work with the old rules. HASHEM had allowed man to harness the power of the atom — an energy source more than a million times more powerful than conventional weapons. It was a whole new reality, and the old frame of reference had little bearing.

So too, in the spiritual world, HASHEM has created certain forces that are powerful and magnify the efforts of man a thousand fold or more. When a sofer takes parchment and ink, writes the parshios with the right intentions, and inserts them into properly prepared batim, an object has been created. That object is far greater than any of its parts.

A pair of tefillin is one of the holiest objects in creation. The parshios themselves had a certain level of kedsuha; the batim themselves prepared l’shmo have some holiness to them. But when all of the parts are brought together, it creates a new entity that is exponentially more holy and potent than the sum of its parts. A kosher pair of tefillin has been created. The object itself is now kodesh, and when man wears them, he harnesses powerful forces that affect both this world and the upper worlds in ways that are difficult to imagine.

So too, when Jews gather together to perform a holy act, it is no longer ten or twenty individuals; it is a new entity – a tzibbur. That tzibbur is far more powerful than the sum of all of its members. It is now in a new category and taps an energy source that is infinitely more powerful than any of the individual members can muster. The impact and effect that it brings about is far greater and it can now accomplish far more than any of its members acting alone.

The power of a tzibbur

This seems to be the answer to this Rashi. Much like a kosher pair of tefillin or a complete sefer Torah, a hundred Jews acting in unison reach a new plateau of effectiveness, multiple times that of the individuals involved. They have tapped the force of the tzibbur. A hundred will chase ten thousand.

This concept has great relevance to us in helping us be more successful. The Gemarah (Tannis 8a) tells us that while all prayer works, for it to be heard, it must be said with an outpouring of emotion. Only when tefillah comes from a deep devotion and is expressed with sincere, powerful intention will it move mountains… unless it is said b’tzibbur. Then, with or without this deep level of Kavanah, it will accomplish its intended purpose.

It is clear from the Gemarah that the same prayer, the same intention, and the same person will find much greater results from his davening because has joined a minyan. He may not have changed, but his circumstances have. He is now in a assemblage that has joined together, and its efficacy far outweighs that of all the individuals combined. By sharing in the merit of that group, his prayer will have a far greater effect. He has put the power of a tzibbur to work.

Why should the size

of the group matter?

For more on this topic please listen to Shmuz #63 Davening – Close Encounters with our Creator

The new Shmuz book: Stop Surviving and Start Living is now in print! “Powerful”, “Thought Provoking”, “Life changing”, is what people are saying about it.  Copies are now available in stores, or at www.TheShmuz.com, or by calling 866-613-TORAH (8672).

Life brings many questions: Why do some people have such difficult lives, while others have it so easy? Why is there so much suffering in the world? Why are there so many tragic deaths?

Life brings many questions: Why do some people have such difficult lives, while others have it so easy? Why is there so much suffering in the world? Why are there so many tragic deaths?

To make sense out life, we need understanding, to gain understanding we need perspective.  Let’s begin with a parable:

 A famous actor receives a call from his agent.

“Listen, Jack we just got a great offer. Tons of money, an all cash deal, you get the star role, playing next to the greatest co -stars in the industry. But the best part of it is the plot, it’s great. The story line really clicks, it’s a guaranteed Oscar. I’m sending the script over this morning. Tell me what you think.”

After reading the script Jack calls his agent back.

“Listen Bob, forget it, no deal”.

“What do mean?”

“I mean it’s no way, no deal. I won’t do it.”

“Jack what is it? Is it the script?”

“No, the script is fine?”

“Is it the other actors?”

“No, they’re fine too.”

“So Jack, what is it?”

“What is it? Bob, don’t you get it? The guy that you want me to play is penniless and not too bright either. More than that, he’s a jerk! I can’t stand anyone seeing me that way.”

“But Jack, that’s only the part you are playing, it’s not you.”

“Bob, forget it, doing this production means everyone, I mean millions of people are going to see me as a creep, and a down and out. I can’t stand the embarrassment. Don’t even ask me again, I’m not doing it.” And he hangs up.

Obviously, this conversation never took place. Because any actor, as well as any person going to the theater, understands that those people up there on the stage are there playing their parts. They aren’t judged by how wealthy or poor they are in the play.  They aren’t judged by whether their role portrays a life of success or failure. There is one criterion for judging an actor: how well did he play his part. If his role is to play the part of an Idiot Savant, and he does it convincingly, he will win awards for his performance. If his role is to be the most successful man in the world and he isn’t real, the critics will rip him to shreds. He is there for only one purpose—to play his role. The characters has this type of personality, is from this type of background, has this level of intelligence—now go out there and play the part.

This is a parable to life. Each of us was given an exact set of circumstances, and a specific set of criteria. The backdrop is laid out and we are given the task of playing the role. Born into a particular time period, to a specific family, given an exact set of parameters – you will be so tall, so intelligent, have so much of this talent and so much of this one. Now, go out there and do it!  Live your life, ford those streams, cross those rivers, and sail those seas! Live up to your potential. At the end of your days you will be judged- but not you compared to me—nor me compared to you: you will be judged by a far more demanding yardstick, you will be measured by how close you came to accomplishing all that you were capable of.

The Vilna Gaon, tells us that the most painful moment in a person’s life is after you leave this earth; when you stand before the heavenly tribunal, and they hold up a picture for you to look at; a picture of a truly exceptional individual—a  person of sterling character traits, who shows intelligence, kindliness, and humility – a person of true greatness. And they say, why didn’t you do what he did?

Me?! Little me? What do you want from me? Was I some kind of genius? Was I some kind of powerful leader of men? How could I have done those things?

And they answer the most telling and most troubling line a person will ever hear: that picture is you. Not you, as you stand here now. Not you as you have lived your life. But, that is you had you accomplished what you were put on this earth to do. That is you, had you become what you were destined to be.

They don’t ask how much money you made. How attractive you were. How popular. Those are the stage settings of life—hand chosen by HASHEM as the perfect environment to allow you to reach your potential. Whether you were smarter, or richer, or more talented then the next person is irrelevant, the only issue is: How much did you accomplish compared to—you, compared to what you were capable of.

Understanding life

Most of the serious life questions we ask come from the assumption that this life we now lead is the end all and be all of existence. As if my station now in this world is the reason for creation.

 From that perspective very little in life makes sense. Certainly not pain, suffering, or the inequitable distribution of talent and opportunity.  However, once a person widens their perspective, to understand that we were created, to grow, to accomplish, and in the end we will be rewarded – judged by only one criterion: how much I grew, in relation to my potential—then life begins to make sense.

HASHEM custom designed a set of circumstances for each individual to give him the ultimate setting for his growth and perfection.  Not every situation is pleasant – but they are needed to shape us, or give us the opportunity to grow. Once we understand this point, life itself takes on a very different meaning and a person can focus on the purpose of life: fulfilling our mission and purpose in existence.

This is an excerpt from the new Shmuz on Life book: Stop Surviving and Start Living.! It is a powerful, inspiring work that deals with major life issues. The book will be released in stores April 2011. Pre releases copies are available now at www.TheShmuz.com.

“Jamaica: White beaches, cloudless skies, endless oceans. Once you go, you know.”

 -Travel ad  

There is an entire industry dedicated to writing travel brochures. Their advertisements offer to take you by rail, cruise, and camel back from the African rain forests to the snow-covered Alps. Then off to Jamaica, Aruba, and the Gulf of Mexico — from the quaint to the spectacular, the picturesque to the breathtaking. They beckon you to see the world.

If you watch people when they look at these pamphlets, they often get a far-off gaze in their eyes as they imagine themselves traveling to those exotic lands. This is interesting because most people who pick them up have no intention of ever going to those places. They’re nice to look at, interesting to see, but it has nothing to do with me.

This seems to be the way we view the World to Come. Intriguing! Fascinating! I love the descriptions. But it has nothing to do with me. Don’t get me wrong; being close to Hashem and enjoying eternal bliss sound wonderful. It’s just that I have no intention of being there. You see, by the time it happens, I will be dead. My nishamah might be there. My soul could end up there. But me? I will be dead and gone. So this whole discussion is interesting, but irrelevant.

I Am a Physical Being

The reason we feel this way is that we view ourselves as physical beings. After all, isn’t man just flesh and blood, a mere mortal? “With the sweat of his brow he earns his daily bread, and then passes from the earth never to be heard from again.” We get so caught up in this limited definition of man that we start to believe it. And we start to confuse ourselves with our bodies. Oh, granted, I have a soul — whatever that is — but it has little to do with me. I am this body. Ever since I can remember, I’ve been inside this body. Everything that I have ever experienced is through it. I guess this is all there is. And life seems to confirm this. If you punch my arm, it hurts me. If I stub my toe, I feel pain. I and my body are one. So obviously, when this body is buried in the ground, I am dead. Gone. Extinct. And the World to Come is irrelevant.

Of course, we are supposed to believe otherwise. The problem is that in our heart of hearts, this is how we feel. The question is: how do we get our feelings in line with our beliefs? Here is an illustration that may help.

Winning the Lotto

It is a Sunday morning; you pick up the newspaper, lazily turning the pages, letting your eye fall where it may. “No news today,” you say to yourself. Before you put the paper down, just for kicks, you turn to the Lottery section, and look for that week’s winning numbers. You find them. A jolt surges through your body. “What!? 7 8 4 3 4 5. Those are my numbers!? What?! Wait. How can that be?” You run to your desk drawer. You grab your lottery ticket. You run back to the kitchen. You hold your ticket up to the newspaper. “7 8 4 3 4 5. That’s it! Those are my numbers! Oh, my goodness. My numbers. My numbers. I won! I mean, I won! I won the NY Lotto! I don’t believe it. I mean, I won! I Won! I WON! WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!”

If we could stop time and ask what you were feeling at that moment, you would probably answer, “Elation. Great joy. Fantastic happiness. I mean, I WON!!!” Then if we were to ask you who felt it, you’d say, “What do you mean who felt it? I felt it.”

 That’s true, but was it your arms, your head, or your chest that felt it? Was it your back, your shoulders, or your legs?

The answer is none of them did. You felt it. Even if your legs were numb and your arms were tied up, you would still feel that tremendous sense of joy. So who felt it? Not your body, not your physical housing — you felt it. You felt pleasure. You were ecstatic. That sense of pleasure isn’t dependent upon your body. In fact, it has no connection to your physical state of being. But you experienced it.

On the other side of the spectrum, imagine that someone is screaming at you, calling you every nasty name in the book. “You worthless excuse of a human being. I didn’t even know that people as low as you could exist.” Hearing those words causes you pain. You feel hurt. It’s not your heart that feels it. It’s not your nerves or your synapses that feel embarrassed. You do. True, you feel with your fingers, taste with your tongue, and smell with your nose, but it is you that experiences it. You are the one who occupies the body and controls its destiny. You are the master of the ship.

There are many things that you feel that aren’t physical in nature. The full gamut of emotions, from love to hate to rage to jealousy, are things that you feel. You feel proud of your accomplishments. You feel appreciative of kind gestures from others, and you feel hurt by cruel words that people say. It isn’t your heart that feels the pain. Euphemistically, we use expressions like a broken heart, but what we really mean is that you have been hurt.

You enjoy listening to music and looking at beautiful landscapes. You feel a sense of awe when you view a majestic mountain. You are moved to tears by the sheer power of the ocean. You are grieved when a friend dies. You are ecstatic when your sister has a baby.

The single most life transforming thought a person can ever come to is that when your body dies, you will live on. You — with all of your feelings, thoughts, and memories — step out of the coat called the body.

This is an excerpt from the new Shmuz on Life book: Stop Surviving and Start Living. The book will be in seforim stores beginning April 2011. Pre releases copies are available now at  www.TheShmuz.com.

“You shall sound a broken blast on the shofar, in the seventh month, on the tenth of the month; on the Day of Atonement you shall sound the Shofar throughout your land.” — VaYikrah 25:9

The mitzvah to blow the shofar on yovel

When we are on our own land, we are commanded to keep every seventh year as the shmittah year, and at the completion of seven shmittos, to add an additional shmittah year — the yovel. During this year, all land lays fallow. Homesteads return to their original owners, and all Jewish slaves are freed.

On Yom Kippur, at the start of the yovel year, we have a specific commandment to publicly blow the shofar.

Why we blow the shofar on yovel

The Sefer HaChinuch explains that the Torah commands us to blow the shofar on yovel because freeing a slave is a very difficult mitzvah, and the slave-owners need chizuk. A master who has had a slave for many years may well have become dependent upon him and find it hard to part with him. By sounding the shofar, we are publicly proclaiming that it is yovel, and all Jews will be freeing their slaves. The master will then recognize that throughout the Land of Israel, everyone is freeing his slaves, and so it will be easier for him to free his own slave.

Why is it easier because others are doing it?

This statement becomes difficult to understand. Why does it become easier for a slave owner to free his slave because others are doing the same? The slave owner is a businessman, not a teenager. We are dealing with a mature person, faced with a difficult test. What difference does it make to him whether this is a popular mitzvah or not? The mitzvah is difficult because he is being asked to give up something that he has become attached to and is dependent upon. Since that’s what makes the mitzvah difficult, what difference does it make to him whether there are many other people doing the same or if he is the only person on the planet doing it?

Understanding human nature

The answer to this question is based on understanding human nature. Psychologists from Freud to Skinner to Maslow have been debating the inner nature of the person for decades. With ever-changing views and understandings, that which one generation accepts as gospel, the next rejects as tomfoolery. Here we get insight into the nature of man from the One Who truly knows – from his Maker.

That understanding is that we humans are highly social. We are affected by our environment. Our perspective on the world is affected by what those around us do. Peer pressure isn’t something that only impacts the world of the teenager. It affects everyone. “My crowd,” “my chevra,” and “my society” affect the way I view things. Ultimately, they help shape my value system.

The Torah is teaching us that even a mature adult faced with a difficult trial will be greatly influenced by what others are doing. If something is done by everyone, it will be much easier for him. It won’t lessen his financial loss, and it won’t ease the burden of replacing a loyal servant, but it will help him gather the fortitude to make the proper decision since everyone is doing it.

Creating our own society

This concept has very real application in our lives. We live in times when society at large has lost its moral compass. Particularly in the United States, once a bastion of family values and morality, we now watch daily as new innovations in decadence and promiscuity pour forth. We can’t open a newspaper without being exposed to a new depth of moral decay. Ideas, concepts, and images that wouldn’t have been accepted in the most base of publications a generation ago are now commonplace in the most respected ones.

We may be tempted to assume that this doesn’t affect us. After all, we are different. We don’t buy into the culture of the times. And while we may feel self-assured and secure in our position, the reality is that we are human, so it can’t help but affect us. The question is: what can we do about it?

The whole world agrees

The Gemara often uses an expression: “kulei alma lo pligi” – “the whole world agrees.” To the Torah sages, their world was the whole world. If you had an opinion about an issue of Halacha, you were in the world. If not, you weren’t. This is illustrative of a perspective. While they were certainly aware of people outside of their sphere, they created their own world.

This may sound myopic and cloistered, but it is based on a fundamental understanding of the human. To remain pure in an impure world, we need to create our own world.

To some extent, we have done just that. We now have our own music, our own novels, and our own magazines. We have, to a degree, created our own culture. But this comes with a cost. There is no question that The New York Times has better writers than do the Yated and the Hamodia. The world of Jewish music is quite limited in its scope and development. There is much out there in the world at large that has great value, but it doesn’t come without baggage. In our times, the baggage far outweighs the advantages.

To some, this may sound like “Ghetto Judaism” – limiting, closed off, isolated from the world. And in truth, it is. But it’s not out of being small-minded. It stems from recognizing the extent of the problem and the nature of the human. The unfortunate reality is that we can’t just take the good and ignore the bad. If we wish to live as a holy nation in these times, we need create an oasis of purity. We need to create our own world.

For more on this topic please listen to Shmuz #166 -  Everybody is doing it

The abundance of Goodness

When my daughter was six years old and we were discussing Bereishis (Creation), there was one issue that she couldn’t come to terms with.  “Abba,” she said to me. “I understand that before Hashem created the world there was nothing, not even light and dark, but what color was it?”

The difficulty she was having was that we are so used to the world as it is that the concept of before Creation is difficult for us to fathom. The idea of the absence of anything — before there was a world, before there was even matter, space, or any substance to hold it in — is very difficult for us corporeal beings to comprehend. We keep falling back to our way of viewing things in a physical setting, and absolute void has no place in our world.

But let’s try for a moment to envision a vast empty nothingness. There is no space, no matter. There isn’t even time because time only exists in a physical world. And Creation begins. Out of nothing — because there is nothing. From nowhere — because there is no place. At this absolute first moment in time, Hashem brings forth matter, the very building blocks of Creation. Then come darkness and light, not even separated, but intermingled — a patch of light here, a flash of darkness there. Next come the heavens and the earth, then the planets and the stars, the fish in the sea, the birds in the sky, and all of the animals of the earth. And on the final day, at almost the last moment of Creation, comes man.

Every part of Creation had to be thought out. There were no givens. There was no imitating or accepting the status quo because before Creation, there was nothing to imitate or use as a model. Every part and every element of this world had to be planned and designed from scratch. When we take this huge leap of understanding, we will see the abundance of goodness that Hashem has bestowed upon the world.

Color

Let’s start with something basic — color. The world is fantastically rich in color, with so many gradations, shades, and hues.

Color is something that we take for granted. Of course, there is color in the world; it was always there. But Hashem created this thing that we call color, and He put it in the world for a particular reason: so that we should enjoy what we see. The world didn’t have to be this way. If Hashem was only concerned with functionality — creating a world that could be used — black and white would have sufficed. We would still be able to recognize everything, even shadows and depth, within the spectrum of the gray scale. If you remember watching black and white TV, it did a fine job, but it lacked a dimension, and so it wasn’t as enjoyable. Hashem wants us to enjoy this world, and so He created the entity called color.

Look out on a fall day and see the trees in their glory, the seemingly endless array of brilliant reds, oranges, and yellows forming a magnificent tapestry stretching across the mountains. Look out at the sun as it sets and see the full radiant spectrum of an artist’s pallet, painted against a powdery gray backdrop.

If the world was created for practical reasons only, all of the beauty within it wouldn’t have to exist. But Hashem put it all here — from magnificent floral scenes to exotic sea life, from the glory of the night sky to the clear aqua green of the ocean, from a flower in bloom to the plume of a jungle parrot, all of the pomp and ceremony of a sunrise — a world created in Technicolor. Why create it that way? Keep it plain and simple. Why go through all of the effort? The answer is for one reason: so that man should benefit. Hashem did all of this for us so that we should look out at the world and enjoy its beauty.  

Taste, Texture and Aroma

Color is only one of the pleasures that we enjoy but take for granted. What about food? Food is something that we need to maintain our energy levels and health. If its only function were nutrition and nothing more, then all the foods that we eat should taste like soggy cardboard. Yet they don’t. There are so many different types of foods, each with a unique flavor, texture, and aroma. Why create them that way? Why not make it all taste like oatmeal? Again, for one reason: so that man should enjoy. So that eating, which we have to do, shouldn’t be a chore, but a pleasure. Taste is something that Hashem added solely for our benefit — for our delight.

Did Hashem Succeed?

Focusing on this gives us a hint to the giving, loving kindliness of Hashem. And it shows us how much He wants us to enjoy this world. However, it also brings us to a critical question: do people notice these things? All of these features were designed with us in mind. Do we benefit from them?

It seems that for most people the answer is no, the world doesn’t bring them much enjoyment at all. And this is a rather curious fact. Hashem invested incredible care to bring forth everything that we need to enjoy life — and most people don’t even notice it, let alone appreciate it. But why? Why don’t we benefit from all of these pleasures?

Even more perplexing is that Hashem is very capable. We see from the vastness, complexity and intricate wonder of Creation that Hashem is very effective at doing that which He does. It is clear that Hashem wants man to enjoy this world. Yet when it comes to man actually having pleasure — if it could be — it seems that Hashem failed. How is that possible? What does it mean?

The solution to this dilemma isn’t simply for us to learn to “appreciate what we have.” Rather, it underscores a basic element of the human personality and requires a fundamental understanding of man.

This is an excerpt from the new Shmuz on Life book: Stop Surviving and Start Living. The book will be in seforim stores beginning April 2011. Pre releases copies are available now at  www.TheShmuz.com.

For many years, I was a high school rebbe. Part of the role of a rebbe is teaching young men how to learn, and part of his role (maybe the bigger part) is teaching them how to live. These were all religious fellows, from good homes, and at some point, early in the year, I would offer them a little challenge of belief. I would look at them and say, “Gentlemen, why don’t you sin? But I don’t mean little sins. I mean really big deal stuff: robbery, murder, pillaging…”

Typically, someone would respond, “Rabbi, if I did that, Hashem would be angry with me. I don’t want Hashem to be angry with me!”  

I would look that fellow in the eye and say, “Listen to me. Throughout history many, many wicked people have flourished. Don’t worry about Hashem being angry with you. You just do exactly what you want.”

At least one of the fellows would blurt out, “Yeah, that’s true now, but when I die, my nishamah will burn. I don’t want my nishamah to burn.”

“Let me get this straight,” I would say. “There are many things that you do even though you don’t want to. There are many other things that you want to do, but you won’t — and it’s all for the sake of your nishamah? Listen to me. Forget about your nishamah. Why should you have to work so hard? You take care of you and let your nishamah burn.”

While this may sound facetious, it actually underscores a common misunderstanding. We assume that right now, because I am alive, I think, I feel, I remember. When my time comes and I leave this earth, I die. So gone is the “I” that thinks, feels, and remembers. I will be dead. My soul, my alter ego, some kind of distant cousin or scaled down version of me will stand in front of Hashem. But I will be dead.

According to that assumption, the question I asked those fellows is valid. Why should I work now so that my nishamah should have a good time in the World to Come? Forget about my nishamah. I am going to take care of me.  

There is only one flaw with this approach. It is dead wrong.

R’ Yisrael Salanter explains that the difference between me when I am alive and me when I am dead is like taking off a coat. When I walk into a room and take off my coat, I emerge. My coat is hung up, but I come into the room. R’ Yisrael explains that this is death.

My body — the coat — is buried. I, the one who thinks and feels, emerge. I don’t die; my body does. It is put into the ground. But I, the occupant of the body, the one who told the arms and legs to move, live on forever.

Not some scaled down version of me. Not my distant cousin or alter ego. I emerge. The same I who is sitting here right now, the same I that has been thinking and feeling, will live on with all of my memories.

This concept is foreign to us because we tend think of death as a kind of sleep — a state of rest. When we speak about people who have passed on, we say things like, “Henry was a good man. Now he’s in his final resting place.” If you visit a cemetery, you will see many footstones inscribed with the words, “At Rest” or “Rest in Peace.” It seems that common wisdom equates dying with going to sleep. As in, I will be “at rest.”

R’ Yisrael is teaching us that this is completely inaccurate. Going to sleep means I leave the situation. I am not there. As an example, imagine that you break your arm, and you are in intense pain — the throbbing ache just won’t let up. You take Motrin, Tylenol with Codeine, Percocet — anything just to get some relief. But nothing helps. Finally, at 3:00 a.m. you fall asleep. The pain no longer bothers you because you aren’t there. You are asleep.

We think of death like going to sleep. I won’t be there. My nishamah, my alter ego, that other part of me, may be there. But me? I will be asleep — at rest.

According to that version of things, why should I work hard now so that someone else, my nishamah (whatever that is) should benefit? Forget it. I will take of me and let my nishamah burn.

That is a critical error. When I die, my body is buried, but I live on. The same I that thinks, the same I that feels, will live on long after this body dies. The body is the housing that I fit into. But, much like an astronaut wearing a space suit, it doesn’t define me. It is something that I wear. When my time on this earth is up, that outside shell will be put into the ground, and I leave.

This is an excerpt from the new Shmuz on Life book: Stop Surviving and Start Living.! It is a powerful, inspiring work that deals with major life issues. The book will be released in stores April 2011. Pre releases copies are available now at www.TheShmuz.com, or by calling 866-613-TORAH (8672).  

“A cow or a sheep, it and its child, do not slaughter on one day.” Vayikrah 22:28

In one of the many mitzvahs that teaches us how to deal with animals, the Torah commands us not to kill a mother and its offspring on one day.

The Sefer HaChinuch explains that one of the rationales behind the mitzvah is “to train ourselves in the trait of mercy, and to distance ourselves from the trait of cruelty. Even though we are permitted to slaughter animals to eat, we must do so in a merciful manner. Killing both the mother and the child in the same day is merciless and will train us in brutality. Therefore, the Torah forbids it.”   

This Sefer Ha’Chinuch is difficult to understand. If the Torah is concerned about the good of the animal and its suffering, then the logical thing to do would be to forbid slaughtering it. If, on the other hand, the Torah is concerned about man and the damage such actions will have on him, then slaughtering another living creature to consume its flesh is about as barbaric an act as one could imagine. Surely the act of killing the animal should be forbidden altogether. Yet the Torah allows you to kill animals for any productive reason: whether for their hides, their meat, or any other use. Not only that, you may slaughter as many of them as you like. You may butcher a thousand cows in one day to make shoes to bring to the market – this won’t lead you to cruelty – but make sure that none of these animals are related. If two of those cows are mother and child, it is barbaric. Don’t do it! This mitzvah seems very difficult to understand.

The answer to this question is based on understanding how our middos are shaped.

In many places the Sefer HaChinuch stresses that a person’s actions molds his very personality. If he acts with kindness and compassion, these traits become part of his inner nature. He will then feel other people’s pain, and it will become difficult for him to ignore their pleas for help. He will become a kind, compassionate person. The opposite is true as well. If a person acts with cruelty, this trait will become part of him. It will be more difficult for him to care about another person’s plight. He will have a difficult time being sensitive to the suffering of others. He will have adopted callousness into his inner essence.

Dovid Ha’Melech was a mighty warrior

According to this logic, it would follow that Dovid Ha’Melech should have been one of the cruelest men in history. He was known as a mighty, merciless warrior. He killed a mountain lion with his bare hands. He won the rights to marry Shaul’s daughter by killing and disfiguring 200 Philistim and bringing back their body parts to the king. When Avshalom waged war against him, Chushi advised, “Do not think of ambushing him (Dovid) at night, for everyone knows that he fights like a bear.” And Dovid said about himself, “I will seek out my enemy and have no mercy upon them.”

Yet we know that Dovid was one of the kindest, most compassionate men who ever lived. Tehillim is not the expression of a cruel man. It is a manifestation of his pure devotion to HASHEM, the outpourings of a heart that is pure, kindly and full of compassion. How is it possible that going to war didn’t ruin him?

The formula for perfecting one’s middos

The Orchas Tzadikim in his introduction explains that perfecting one’s middos is comparable to a chef preparing a meal. The right ingredients, in the right proportions, prepared in the right manner, will yield a delicious dish. However, all three have to be correct. If, for example, instead of sautéing the onions for 10 minutes, you leave them on the flame for an hour, or if instead of a teaspoon of salt you add a cup, the food will be inedible. It is the quality of the ingredients, in the proper amounts, prepared correctly, that determines the final product.

So too, he explains, when working on one’s character traits. It is the right amount of the right middah in the right time that is the key to perfection. Each middah has its place, time, and correct measure. 

This seems to be the answer to Dovid Ha’Melech. When he went to war, it was in the manner that HASHEM directed him. HASHEM designed the human and understands the delicate balance within him: what affects him and how. HASHEM commanded us to make use of certain behaviors, in certain measures, and at certain times. The same act when done for the wrong reason will be disastrous to the person. However, when it’s done for the right reasons, in the right measure, it will not harm him. Dovid remained pure and unsullied because he followed the Torah’s system of self-perfection, designed by the only One who truly understands the nature of the human.

The Torah: the ultimate system of perfection

This seems to be the answer to the Sefer Ha’Chinuch as well. The Torah isn’t concerned about the pain of the animal; it is concerned about man. Man is the reason for creation. Everything in existence was formed to serve him. However, man was fashioned in a delicate balance. If he uses this world for its intended purpose, in the right way, in the right time, then he grows and perfects himself. However, if he uses the world incorrectly, in the wrong manner, or to the wrong extent, he is damaged by that process.

The act of killing a mother and child is akin to wiping out generations; it is pitiless and cruel. HASHEM, Who understands the balance and nature of man, has told us that killing an animal for good use will not lead you to a hardened nature, provided you do so within the given boundaries. Remain within the system and you are safe. Leave these guidelines and you are in grave danger.  

This concept is very applicable as it helps us appreciate the wisdom of the Torah’s system for growth. There is much that modern man understands about the inner workings of the human, and there is at least as much, if not more, that he doesn’t understand. HASHEM has designed us and has given us the guidebook for perfection. It is our job to follow the Torah’s directives in the right balance, in the right time, in the right manner, thereby actualizing our potential as the reason for all of creation.

The new Shmuz book: Stop Surviving and Start Living is now in print! “Powerful”, “Thought Provoking”, “Life changing”, is what people are saying about it.  Pre release copies are now available at www.TheShmuz.com, or by calling 866-613-TORAH (8672). The book will be released in the stores in April.

Parshas Acharei Mos

“And a man from the house of Israel, and from the converts who live with you, who shall consume any blood, I shall place My face against the soul of the one who consumed blood, and I shall cut it off from amongst your nation.” Vayikrah”  17: 10

The Torah warns us many times and with many different exhortations not to consume blood. The Kli Yakar points out than in Devarim the Torah tells us not to eat blood because “It will be good for you and your children after you”. He explains that: “Consuming blood brings cruelty into the one who eats it, and the nature of the father is given over to his children to be like him. Therefore, the Torah warns us not to consume blood so that we don’t acquire this nature.”  

It seems clear from the Kli Yakar that consuming blood will cause a change in the nature of the person who consumes it. His sensitivities and reactions will have changed, and he will become a different person. However, not only will he become callous and pitiless, these traits will become part of his genetic transmission, so that any child that he then has will have this same predisposition towards cruelty.

This concept seems difficult to understand. Firstly, how does consuming blood make a person cruel? Secondly, how does that change affect the very hereditary transmission of a person so that his children will be pitiless as well?

 To understand the answer to this, we need to focus on the basic make-up of man.

The Chovos Ha’Levovos (Sha’ar Avodas Elokim 3) explains that HASHEM created man out of two very distinct parts – a nefesh ha’Schili (intellectual soul) and a nefesh Ha’Bahami (animal soul). The “I” that thinks, feels, and remembers is comprised of two separate and competing parts, each one with its own nature, tendencies, and needs. The nefesh ha’Schili desires only that which is good, right, and noble. It yearns to help others, it hungers for meaning and purpose, and more than anything, it needs to be close to HASHEM.

Then there is the other part of man — the animal soul. It too has desires and inclinations, and it too hungers for things. One way to better understand the animal soul in man is to visit its parallel in the wild kingdom.

Understanding the Nefesh Ha’Bahami

HASHEM imprinted into the essence of each animal all the instincts necessary for its survival as well as for the continuation of its species. The animal doesn’t have a cognitive, reasoning element. It doesn’t have an “I” that is the master of the ship. But it does have a vibrant essence that is programmed to seek out its needs. That part is the nefesh of the animal.

That nefesh is pure instinct, drives, and passions, and is affected by both internal and external triggers. In the spring, birds fly north and engage in a fury of nest-building and mating. The individual bird doesn’t purposefully choose its mate. Two robins don’t sit down and say to each other, “It’s time for us to settle down and raise  a family.” The animal is attracted by the sight, smell, and sound of one of its species, and then will hotly pursue it – often becoming  bonded  for life. It is driven by instinct in a preset pattern.  

Those instincts and desires are affected by various forces. A bird from a different species will not elicit the mating response, nor will even the same bird in a different time of the year. In the dead of winter, these desires lay dormant. The change in season brings them forward to the extent that they take over the existence of that bird. They have been pre-programmed to respond to stimuli that allow for the success of the individual bird and the species as a whole.

The answer to the Kli Yakar

This seems to be the answer to the question. The Kli Yakir is teaching us that when the Torah forbids us to eat blood, it is because consuming it would make a dramatic change in our inner essence. We would be ingesting part of the nefesh of that animal, and it would become part of our own Nefesh Ha’Bahami. Our conscious reality would change because part of who we are is the animal soul, and we would thereby acquire cruelty. This change is so potent that if the person who drank that blood were to then have a child, that child would also have cruelty as part of his inner make-up. 

Much like certain chemicals can affect a man’s mood; the Torah is teaching us that there are some properties that have a permanent effect on the nature of man. They change his Nefesh, and that changes the way that he thinks and feels.

Similarly, the mefarshim explain to us that none of the kosher animals are predators. The nature of a predatory animal is to hunt down and kill. If a person were to consume meat from such an animal, some part of the Nefesh of that animal would enter into man’s soul and he would acquire an aggressive, violent nature. The Torah forbids it because it would damage the fine balance in man.

This concept is very significant as it helps us better understand the Torah as the system of human perfection. HASHEM is the Creator, and He wrote the Torah as the guidebook for human growth. Contained within it are all the tools necessary to reach greatness. Some of the tools are easily understood and some takes years to fully comprehend, but the system is there. By following the guidelines, restrictions, and commandments, a person guarantees that he is headed in the right path – using his stay on the planet to grow and perfect himself.

For more on this topic please listen to Halacha Boot Camp – Hilchos Kashrus – Introduction, Parts 1 and 2

The new Shmuz book: Stop Surviving and Start Living is now in print! “Powerful”, “Thought Provoking”, “Life changing”, is what people are saying about it.  Pre release copies are now available at www.TheShmuz.com, or by calling 866-613-TORAH (8672). The book will be released in the stores in April.

And the Kohain shall command, and he shall take for the person being purified, two live birds, cedar wood, a thread of purple wool, and hyssop. Vayikrah: 14:4

The holiness of the Jews

As Jews, we are commanded to be a holy nation. To help maintain our spiritual level, the Torah provides safeguards to protect us from sin. One of these is Tzaraas. In the time of the Bais Ha’Mikdash, (which should speedily be rebuilt), if a person spoke Loshon Harah, he contracted Tzaraas. While the outer manifestation was a type of skin condition, a Metzorah had entered a stage of Tumah, which forced him to be removed from normal life. Anything that he then came into contact with became Tameh, and he had to leave the encampment of the Jews and remain separated from the rest of the nation until he was purified.

The Metzorah becomes purified

To become purified from this state, a Metzorah had to go through a complex, three-part process. After the Kohain looked at his neggah and saw that it had healed, the first part began. The Kohain was commanded to take two live, kosher birds, a piece of cedar wood, and hyssop (a branch from a particular bush), and then tie them together with a string of purple wool, and dip them all into the blood from the first bird.

Rashi explains that each of these was part of the Kaparah, a correction and atonement for his sin. The cedar wood, which comes from a tall, strong tree, was to signify that his speaking Lashon Harah was caused by arrogance. The purple-dyed wool and hyssop come from lowly sources, and serve as a message to the Metzorah that he should lower himself. And the reason that for the kosher birds are that birds are constantly chirping, and Loshon Harah is an act of chirping.

Human speech cannot be compared to birds chirping

This Rashi seems difficult to understand. The chirping of the birds doesn’t seem to fit into the equation. If you listen to the sounds of birds chirping on a spring day, you’ll hear an unending stream of sound, much like turning on the faucet in your kitchen sink. The flow begins, short chirps and long chirps forming some type of pattern, but it’s without thought; the birds just jabber away.

What connection does that have with intelligent speech? Speech isn’t merely the formation of sounds; speech is the highest form of communication, a power given to man alone to share his inner thoughts and understandings. Each word or phrase can represent entire concepts and ideas. Man alone can relay a world of understanding in but a few expressions. In what way can that be compared to the chattering of birds, a mindless, thoughtless, automatic reflex?

There is no instinctive urge to speak despairingly about people

The answer to this question is based on understanding how Loshon Harah comes about. The Chofetz Chaim points out that one of the prohibitions that a person violates by speaking Loshon Harah is Chillul HASHEM. He explains that if someone has a powerful desire to commit a sin and then transgresses it, it may be a serious offence, but there is a mitigating factor – he fought a battle and lost. Loshon Harah, on the other hand, is very different. There is no driving, instinctive force that pulls us to speak disparagingly about other Jews. There is no magnetic pull that tugs at us. Therefore, if a person speaks Loshon Harah, it can be a Chillul HASHEM; since he is committing this sin without any powerful desire, it must be that he utterly disregards the command of the King.

Loshon Harah usually is mere chatter, much like the chirping of a bird

What we see from this is that much of Loshon Harah isn’t purposeful, malicious speech. In fact, it is rare that we engage in intentionally divulging great secrets with the specific intention of ruining another person’s reputation or business. Rather, in the course of conversation, we sort of prattle on. “Hey, did you hear? I don’t know if you know this, but…” Most often, it is simple drivel. Without much forethought, and certainly without regard to the consequences of the sounds that are emanating from the openings in front of our faces, we fill the empty space with chatter.

In that sense, the bird is the perfect atonement. Since Loshon Harah comes about through prattle, the Torah commands the Metzorah to bring a bird as the atonement for what allowed him to come to this sin.

Preventing Loshon Harah

This concept has great application in our lives. There are rare occasions when we speak out of malice and desire to avenge a perceived wrong, and in those cases it is difficult to stop ourselves from speaking Loshon Harah. However, the vast majority of Loshon Harah that we engage in is senseless gossip – prattling like chirping of a bird. So while it is common place, it is much easier to work on eradicating it. By simply being aware of ourselves and by learning the halachos of Shmiras Ha’Lashon, we can easily prevent much of the damage of our spoken words. As we become conscious of what flows out of our mouths, we stop the mindless prattle that does so much damage to others.

For more on this topic please listen to Shmuz #26 -  Loshon Harah – Squandering our Olam Habbah

The new Shmuz book: Stop Surviving and Start Living is now in print! “Powerful”, “Thought Provoking”, “Life changing”, is what people are saying about it.  Pre release copies are now available at www.TheShmuz.com, or by calling 866-613-TORAH (8672). The book will be released in the stores in April.

The Torah forbids us from eating non-kosher foods because we are fit to live for eternity. The nations of the world were created for their place in this world only. Therefore, it isn’t necessary for them to avoid non- kosher foods. But the Jews were created with a soul that will last forever, and so we are warned to avoid such foods.

This can be compared to a doctor who went to visit two critically ill patients. To the first one he gave strict instructions, “This you may eat; this you may not eat.” however to the second patient he said, “You may eat whatever you like.” When questioned on the difference in directives, the doctor responded, “The first patient, while gravely ill, will recover. So it is imperative that he eat wholesome foods that will aid in his healing. The second patient will not survive. There is no point in his watching his diet Let him eat what he enjoys.”

With this moshol, the Medrash explains why the Torah forbids us from eating treif food. Since we were created to last for eternity, we must avoid those foods that will damage us. The nations of the world, in contrast, were only created for this world, so they can eat what they want. 

This is difficult to understand. What comparison does eating non-kosher food have to a sick man eating a specific diet? The diet of healthy or non-healthy foods directly affects the health of a person. When a person eats wholesome foods, his body utilizes the nutrients and he gains strength. If he eats unwholesome foods, his body becomes weaker and he loses vitality. This is the way of the world. However, this has nothing to do with the dietary laws that the Torah sets down. The reason we don’t eat treif food is a chok, a law without a reason, much like not wearing shatnez or not eating chometz on Pesach. How can the Medrash use this moshol of the diet of the two patients when it isn’t comparable to the nimshol?

A fundamental understanding of man

The Chovos Ha’levovos (Sha’ar Avodas Elokim 3) explains that HASHEM created man out of two very distinct parts – a nefesh ha’Schili (intellectual soul) and a nefesh ha’bahami (animal soul). Each has its desires and inclinations, and each is competing with the other, vying for primacy over man.

The sechel in man is what drives him to do all that is good and proper. It is the part of him that pulls him closer to HASHEM. It is the force in him that hungers to help others. Everything that is noble, proper and good in man stems from this side.

The Nefesh Ha’bahami on the other hand is comprised of the base instincts necessary for survival. This is a part of man just as it is  in the rest of the animal kingdom. It is made up of hungers, appetites, and desires.

The sechel and behaima are constantly in competition with each other, and each is in a state of flux. Much like a muscle, each becomes stronger with use and atrophies with disuse. The more a person uses his sechel, the stronger and more dominant it becomes. The more he allows his passions and desires to rule, the stronger a hold they have on him. Man is engaged in a constant battle.

In this conflict, the behaima has an unfair advantage. It is in its element, and everything that we do constantly utilizes it and therefore strengthens it. All of man’s daily activities – from working for a living to eating and sleeping – are constantly nourishing the behaima side. Very little that a person does strengthens his sechel. And so by all rights, the behaima side of man should become ever stronger until it vanquishes the sechel.

For that reason, the Torah gave us strict instructions about which actions to engage in and which to avoid, as those actions give an undue strengthening to the behaima side of man.

How treif food functions

Chazal tell us that “treif food deadens the heart.” When a person eats non-kosher food, he ingests that impurity into himself, so his behaima side becomes stronger, and it becomes more difficult for him to relate to anything spiritual. It becomes harder for him to learn, harder for him to daven, harder for him to experience HASHEM.

When Chazal call not eating treif food a chok, that refers to how it functions. Why does milk cooked together with meat give an unfair edge to the behaima side? Why does ingesting blood make a person cruel? To understand how these things function, one must be a scientist of the soul – something that very few individuals in history were able to become. But that it works that way is a given. And for that reason, the Torah forbids us from eating various foods, wearing shatnez, engaging in various physical relations…

This seems to be the answer for this Rashi. The moshol is exact. Since the Jew was given a soul that will last forever, he must be very guarded in what he eats. Impure food will deaden that holy part of him; it will damage his soul. A gentile, on the other hand, was not created with that same purpose, so it doesn’t matter if he eats these types of foods or not.

This concept is very applicable to us in the sense that we often overlook our predisposition for greatness. HASHEM created us with elevated souls, different than any of the other people who occupy this planet. We were created to live forever in an exalted and lofty state. We were given all of the inclinations and aptitudes to reach true greatness. Additionally, HASHEM gave us the greatest guide to spiritual perfection – the Torah. If we learn to follow its ways and appreciate its systems, we journey forward on the greatest mission of man – the road to perfection.

    For more on this topic please listen to Shmuz #13 Nefesh Ha’Schili- Nefesh Ha’Bahami The new Shmuz on Life book: Stop Surviving and Start Living is now in print! It is a powerful, inspiring work that deals with major life issues. Pre release sales are now available on the Shmuz.com. The book will be released in Sefarim stores March 1, 2011. ]]> http://theshmuz.com/blog/parshas-shmini-food-for-the-soul/feed/ 0 http://theshmuz.com/blog/parshas-tzvah-zachor-by-by-rabbi-ben-zion-shafier-seize-the-moment/ http://theshmuz.com/blog/parshas-tzvah-zachor-by-by-rabbi-ben-zion-shafier-seize-the-moment/#comments Tue, 15 Mar 2011 20:26:35 +0000 admin http://theshmuz.com/blog/?p=189

On the 13^th of Nissan, Haman approached Achashverosh with his plan: the complete annihilation of the Jewish people. Achasverosh agreed, and the wheels were set in motion.

The Targum tells us that Eliyahu Ha’Navi came to Mordechai and informed him of all that had transpired.

Mordechai immediately sent word to Esther, asking her to appear before the king to beg mercy for her people.

Esther responded, “Gather together all of the Jews of Shushan, and fast for three days and three nights. After that I will go to the king.”

Mordechai declared the next three days as a fast. 

Rashi notes that the next three next days were the 14^th, the 15th, and the 16th of Nissan. That means that Mordechai decreed a fast day on the 15^th of Nissan, the first day of Pesach.

Why not wait?

This seems difficult to understand. Why would Mordechai decree a fast day on Pesach? The Jews were to be destroyed in Adar, which was eleven months away. Not an anti-Semite in the land dared to raise a finger against the Jews before then for fear that Achasverosh might change his mind. If there was almost a full year until actual killing was to take place why then would Mordechai choose the very next day — a Yom Tov — to fast? Shouldn’t he have waited and chosen a more appropriate date in those eleven months to organize a well-prepared Teshuvah rally?

What makes this even more difficult to understand is that the Jewish people needed every zcus they could get. Mordechai was told that the decree was agreed upon in Shamayim. The problem wasn’t with the enemies of the Jews; it was with us. That being the case, surely the more logical approach would have been for the Jews to keep all of the mitzvahs of the Yom Tov, allowing them to eat Matzah on the fifteenth. By doing so, they would be in a much better place to stand in front of HASHEM and ask for mercy. They could make the fast day at a later date. Why the urgent rush to act?

The answer to this question is based on understanding human nature.

Massive and immediate action

Bill Gates, founder of Microsoft, went from being a college dropout to being the wealthiest man in the world in a very short time. During an interview about his meteoric ascent, he was asked, “To what do you attribute your great success?”

“I was in the right place at the right time…I guess you could say that I got lucky,” he explained. “But, you know, there were a lot of people of other people who were there as well …but … I had vision. I saw the potential that was there… But, there were a lot of people at the same place that I was, and a lot of people also had vision… the one difference was that I took massive and immediate action.” 

This seems to be the answer to the question on this Rashi. As the head of the Sanhedrin, Mordechai had the responsibility of the generation on his shoulders — and he recognized human nature. As the Jews of Shushan gathered in the central square, the great Tzadik was wearing sackcloth and ashes. When he told them of the decree from Heaven, everyone understood the gravity of the situation. They got it. They recognized that there was no one to turn to, no one to bail them out. According to the ways of this world, there was no hope.

With that clarity of understanding, they then had the ability to harness the most potent force on this earth By earnestly turning to HASHEM as their only salvation, by begging for His mercy, they could potentially overturn the decree. But doing that required the utter and complete perception that there was no other way. At that moment in time, the Klal Yisroel had the spiritual awakening and motivation and to do just that.

But let’s imagine that Mordechai would have set the fast day for the next week, or the next month, or in two months. The fire of excitement would have died down, the sense of impending doom would have weakened, and the Tshuvah would not have been complete. That is human nature. We hear about something, it moves and awakens us, and we feel a certain way, but that fever pitch fades with time. The next day, the next week, the excitement has weakened. And with it, the clarity goes as well.

Recognizing this, Mordechai seized the moment. He decreed the very next day as a fast. Let nothing stand between this moment of clarity and the reaction we need — total subjugation to HASHEM. Because of this, the Jewish people were in fact able to turn around the events, and in place of a holocaust, we now celebrate Purim.

This concept has great relevance to us. We all have moments of inspiration. At certain points of life, events occur that give us a different clarity of vision. We recognize how great our mission is, how fleeting life is, and how little time we have left on the planet. At that moment, we understand things from a very clear perspective. The question is, what do we do at that moment? To be truly successful, we need to utilize those moments of excitement. We have to lock them in; we have to take massive and immediate action to harness those moments of clarity into concrete actions. Being inspired is wonderful, but doing something with that inspiration is what allows us to reach greatness. If we live through life’s moments of inspiration and don’t use them to reach concrete decisions, then it is a waste of the precious opportunities HASHEM has given us.

However, when a person does use those moments of inspiration to change his actions, he takes those moments and turns them into permanent acquisitions. By doing so, he spends his time here on the planet in an ever-spiraling climb to spiritual greatness.

For more on this topic please listen to Shmuz #96 – Seize the Moment

The new Shmuz book: Stop Surviving and Start Living is now in print! “Powerful”, “Thought Provoking”, “Life changing”, is what people are saying about it.  Pre release copies are now available at www.TheShmuz.com, or by calling 866-613-TORAH (8672). The book will be released in the stores in April.

(Shemos 38:21) These are the reckonings of the Mishkan, the Mishkan of testimony, which were reckoned at Moshe’s request.

Parshas Pikudei begins with a detailed accounting of all of the gold and silver that was collected for the Mishkan. A cursory reading would lead us to assume that while, of course, a man as great as Moshe was above question, he must have asked for this calculation because public leaders must remove any suspicion no matter how farfetched.

However, the Balei Tosfos explain things a bit differently. It seems that Moshe was in fact suspected of stealing money from the Mishkan. There were 16 Shekalim which were unaccounted for, and Moshe was suspect to have taken them. Therefore, Moshe asked for a formal accounting, to remove the suspicion. At which point they discovered that those 16 Shekalim were actually used in the construction of the hooks of the Mishkan.

The difficulty with this Balei HaTosfos is understanding how would   anyone suspect that Moshe Rabbeinu of stealing? The Mishkan was to be the dwelling place of HASHEM on this earth. It was one of the holiest objects ever created. Monies that were separated for the Mishkan were consecrated and holy. How could anyone suspect Moshe of pilfering those monies? Even more perplexing is that  these people knew who Moshe Rabbeinu was.  They saw him go up to Shmayaim and receive the Torah. They heard the sound of HASHEM’s voice speaking through him. From the time that he came down from Har Sinai his face shone like the sun—for that reason he constantly wore a vale. They understood him to be the greatest human ever created. How is it possible that they suspected him of petty thievery—16 Shekalim, no less?

This question becomes even more difficult when we take into account the circumstances of those times. This was the generation of the midbar—all of their daily needs were taken care of.  They ate Mon that fell from the heavens, they drank water from a huge rock that followed them through the desert, their clothes grew on the backs and their shoes never wore out—in short all of their needs were taken care of. They didn’t work for a living and had nothing to do with their money. There entire focus and occupation was growing in learning and Yiras Shamayim. It was the ultimate kollel community. If so, what possible motivation would Moshe have to steal the Shekalim?

The answer to this question is based on perspective.

Appreciating Gadolim

The story is told that one day a poor man came to the Chofetz Chaim’s door asking for Tzedakah. The Chofetz Chaim invited him in, and offered him a full meal. When the man was finished eating he left. As the Chofetz Chaim was cleaning up, he realized that this man had stolen a spoon. The Chofetz Chaim ran into the street after him calling, “Wait, wait, don’t forget the spoon is fleishig.”

While this is a beautiful illustration of the giving nature of a Tzadik, there is as subtle message here– the man stole a spoon from the Chofetz Chaim. How was that possible? The Chofetz Chaim! The revered sage. The final word in Halacha. The teacher of generations.  Could we imagine, anyone today being lowly enough to actually steal something from such a holy man?

The answer is that no one today would act that way to the Chofetz Chaim, because we have an appreciation of who the man was. But in his generation they didn’t.  That stature was only something that he acquired long after he died. For most of his life, he was viewed as a regular man—maybe a Talmid Chacham but nothing extraordinary. And even when the world began hearing of the Chofetz Chaim, it wasn’t as some huge, towering, historic figure- a gadol maybe, but not someone who will shape history.

This seems to be a quirk in human nature- when we live in proximity to greatness it is hard to appreciate the size of the man, we tend to minimize the magnitude. It is far easier to lump him together with other people of the generation and assume that he can’t be that much greater. Acharei Mos- Kedoshim, it isn’t until the person has passed on that people begin to appreciate who he was.

The view from that generation

This seems to be the answer to Moshe Rabbeinu. While the people living then knew of the greatness of Moshe, they still viewed him as a man of their generation. Granted he went up to the heavens and received the Torah,  but he is a man like you and I, and what is to say that he didn’t just pocket some of the Shekalim? While later generations wouldn’t in their wildest dreams suspect such a man, to those living in the times that historical perspective wasn’t there, and they couldn’t see him for the lofty giant that he was.

This concept has particular relevance to us as we look at the leaders of our generation and say, “Where are the Gedolim today”? Where are the powerful beacons of the Mesorah? But we aren’t the first to utter that cry, it has been expressed by every generation since Har Sinai, and will continue through the generations. What we see from the Balei Tosfos is that this sentiment was expressed even in regards to Moshe – if they suspected him of pilfering funds from the Mishkan; they didn’t quite appreciate who the man was.

The correct attitude is that HASHEM provides Gedolim for each generation to guide the people living in those times.  Chazal tell us that as “Yiftach in his generation, so too, Shmuel in his generation…” it is our job to seek out the Torah leaders of our times, take council from them, and learn the ways of HASHEM from those whom He sends to lead us.

The new Shmuz book: Stop Surviving and Start Living is now in print! “Powerful”, “Thought Provoking”, “Life changing”, is what people are saying about it.  Pre release copies are now available at www.TheShmuz.com, or by calling 866-613-TORAH (8672). The book will be released in the stores in April.

How could they suspect Moshe of stealing from the Mishkan?

Playing Shadchan

When my wife and I were newlyweds, we took up an informal study of marriages. At the time, my parents had a close circle of friends, 8 couples, who got together regularly. After carefully looking at each couple, we both reached the same conclusion: every one of them was mismatched! Had we been the shadchanim, we would not have put any of them together.

She was too smart… He was too frum… She was too sophisticated… He was too loud…They just didn’t fit together.

Marriage is not a match of two like individuals

Our little study brought home one point: a good marriage isn’t necessarily a match of two similar individuals. It is a union of a man and woman, vastly different in temperament, emotionality, frame of reference, and priorities, each one with different strengths and weaknesses. In a successful marriage, the couple completes one another, so that his deficiencies are compensated for by her strong points, her shortcomings filled in by his positive attributes, and the whole is much greater than the parts.

So tell me what are you looking for?

This highlights one of the common errors made in today’s dating game. When the Shadchan says in that sing-song voice, “So tell me, what are you looking for?” out comes the laundry list.

“I need someone who is extroverted, funny, and outgoing.”

“I need a woman who is very frum, good, kind, tolerant, and funny.”

“I need a guy who is tall, a take-charge type, strong but not headstrong.”

And unwittingly, many people make the first mistake of the dating game – they aren’t looking for their Bashert- they have already formed him in their minds, and now are out to find the one that comes the closest to that image.

It is almost like the children’s toy Mr. Potato Head. You get to design the doll, choose red lips, big ears, small eyes, short legs… Before going out most people go through a sort of personal inventory: “Let’s see. Since I am…., I need…” Unconsciously, they put together  a wish list of qualities  to take out into the market place. Then amazingly, they find themselves frustrated.  “I just can’t find Mr. Right.”

The wisdom of Shlomo Ha’Melech

Not only isn’t this a Torah approach to dating, it comes from a lack of understanding of the complexity of the human being. For a person to accurately choose the person that is right for them, they would need the wisdom of Shlomo Ha’Melech.

Before anything, I need the self-understanding to answer: “Who am I? What really makes me tick? What are my true strengths and real weaknesses? How will I react in different life situations? What will I be like in twenty years?”

The reality is that most people can’t answer those questions even when they are eighty years old, let alone when they are first starting out in life.

But even more difficult is the next step: defining what I need in a spouse. Based on who I am and what my nature is, which qualities will augment my own, and which will clash? Based on where I will be in life, do I need someone who is emotionally supporting, or will I only flourish if I have someone that I support?

Rosh Ha’Yeshiva – we finally found him a Shidduch

I remember once, before giving shiur, the Rosh HaYeshiva (Rav Henoch Lebowitz) remarked, “Boruch HASHEM, we finally found a shidduch for that guy. What a temper that fellow has! I didn’t know who we could possibly marry him off to, but, Boruch HASHEM, we found the perfect shidduch for him.”

Needless to say, everyone was curious as to who the perfect shidduch was for this guy with the fierce temper.

The Rosh HaYeshiva continued, “We found him a woman with a temper bigger than his. Now when he opens his mouth, she’ll scream back even louder, and he’ll be quiet as a lamb — the perfect shidduch.”

Now, everyone knows that the worst match for a guy with a temper is a girl with a temper. It’s is asking for World War Three. Only the Creator, who put them together understands their inner nature and recognizes how they will interact. Only the Creator knows that this guy talks a big game, but his inner being is really docile, that he won’t explode when confronted, but quite the opposite becomes placid. Only HASHEM knows that what he needs for his growth is a strong woman who will put him in his place.

Some jobs are better off left to HASHEM

When a person spends some time thinking about the complexity of the human, he’ll understand the difficulty of finding the right match for a person, and quickly realize that some jobs are better off left to HASHEM. Then it starts to crystallize, “I really don’t know that much about this thing called marriage. I don’t really understand why some couples flourish while others disintegrate. In truth, I haven’t been on this planet long enough to really know myself, and surely not what I need in the opposite gender to perfectly balance me.”

Once a person reaches this understanding, then he is ready to use the Bashert system of going out. This system resembles the way that many people approach shidduchim. But don’t be fooled – it is vastly different.

The Bashert System

The Bashert System involves two parts. The first is rather similar to the way most people go out. Before the date, before there are any emotional investments, you take a “paper test.” On paper, do the two match? Are they looking for the same things in life? Are they looking to lead the same lifestyle?

Once that is established, then you meet — and here is where things work very differently — the reason that you meet isn’t because you are looking for the person who is best suited for you, nor because you are searching for the person who you would most like to spend the rest of your life with. You are looking for the person who was chosen for you.

Forty days before I was born, a certain individual was hand-chosen for me as the perfect mate, my life partner. Now I am going out to find her. Not to find the one who comes closest to my image of what I want. Not to find the person that I think will best suit my needs. I am looking for my Bashert — and to do that, I take the Bashert test.

The Bashert Test

The Bashert Test is to meet this person and see how I feel. Do I feel comfortable? Do I enjoy her company? Does it just sort of feel right? Not deep, mad passionate love. Not rockets on the fourth of July. Not even “Wow!!!” Just does it feel natural? Did you enjoy the date? Do you look forward to seeing her again? Does it sort of seem to click? If it does, then she passes. That is the sign that she is the one destined for me.

The Bashert Test is based on the perspective that HASHEM runs this world, and my job is to go out and do my hishdadlus, relying on HASHEM to bring me what I need. HASHEM gave us the intuition to know certain things, one of which is who is the right one for me.

Too smart for the system

One of the reasons that people get stuck is because they become too “smart” for the system. A young man will say something like, “The dates are great, I really look forward but she’s not worldly enough for me”…or  not intelligent enough, not outgoing enough, or “I’m just not sure that she’s the right one.”

Many times it isn’t that he doesn’t have an intuitive sense about her. He does. It’s just that he doesn’t like what his intuition is telling him. Sometimes it is because “What will the guys think?” or “Can’t I do better?” These “needs” are ideas he adopted from the outside world’s understanding of marriage.

But all of these blockages can be bypassed if a person focuses on the viewpoint that HASHEM created this world and runs it. HASHEM has chosen for me the perfect life’s partner, and HASHEM wants me to find that person. That person might not fit my very detailed, preconceived idea of what it is that I think I need, or what it is that I want, but that person is the one that’s best for me.

When a person trusts in HASHEM and uses the tools given to him, HASHEM helps him succeed in finding the one predestined for him – his Bashert.

This is an excerpt from the Shmuz on Emunah book: scheduled to be published next Sept. The Shmuz on life book: Stop Surviving and Start Living is now available! It is a powerful, inspiring work that deals with major life issues. The book will be released in stores April 2011. Pre releases copies are available now at www.TheShmuz.com.

One way focus on this is to address one of the most fundamental questions that a person can ever ask themselves, and that is: before you were created, what did you do to deserve being created? What great deed did you do that justified HASHEM giving you life?

Obviously, the answer is nothing. And that is the point. Before you were created, you didn’t do anything to deserve being created; you didn’t exist. The reason HASHEM made you was out of pure mercy and loving kindness. HASHEM is the Giver. HASHEM created this world and all that it contains to give of His good to man. And HASHEM made you to give of his good to you – without expecting anything in return.

This is the key to understanding our relationship with our Creator.

HASHEM loves you more than you love you

The Chovos Ha’Levovos explains that HASHEM looks out for your interests more than you do yourself.  HASHEM is more concerned for your good than you are. HASHEM loves you more than you love yourself.

This is the foundation of bitachon. Without it, trusting in HASHEM is foolish. How can I rely on HASHEM if He doesn’t care about me? How can I trust in HASHEM if I am irrelevant to Him? The only way that a person can develop a sense of confidence in HASHEM is by understanding that He loves every one of His creations to an extent that is beyond human comprehension.

This leads us to another point, one that is often difficult to feel: HASHEM loves me despite my having done things that anger Him. Just as HASHEM showered goodness upon me because of His middah to give and not because of anything that I have done, even if I have veered off course, and done things wrong, HASHEM has infinite patience and desires nothing more than my returning to Him and correcting my mistakes. And because of HASHEM’s infinite mercy and kindness, even if I do not deserve something, HASHEM may well give it to me anyway.

By focusing on the loving kindliness of HASHEM and how much He is focused on giving to us, we can come to some level of understanding HASHEM, and train ourselves to trust in and rely on Him.

Victor Frankl was a Viennese psychiatrist, and a secular Jew who barely knew that he was Jewish. The Nazis made his identity clear to him when they deported him to a concentration camp.

After the war, he wrote a book entitled Man’s Search for Meaning, in it; Frankl describes what life was like for him after the war. After spending time in the displaced persons camp, he landed in the United States and opened a practice on the upper east side of Manhattan. As he had been a world-famous psychiatrist, he put out his shingle, and his practice was quickly filled. He explains, however, that the cases that he was now dealing with were unlike any that he had ever seen before. A woman would come into his office, and he would conduct the intake interview:

“Ma’am, how can I help you?”

“Well, Doc, I’m depressed.”

“I see. Is it your marriage?”

“No. That’s going well.”

“Is it your kids?”

“No, they’re fine.”

“Is it work?”

“No, that’s fine too.”

“Well, what is it? Why are you depressed?”

“I don’t know, Doc. That’s why I’m here.”

He describes that patient after patient would come in, depressed, but without any attributable cause. No trauma. No loss of a loved one. No loss of a job or income. His conclusion: these people were depressed because they lacked meaning in life; they lacked direction and purpose. A 45-year-old man would wake up and say to himself, “I am doing great. Making lots of money, my company is flourishing, but what is it all about? Why do it? What is the purpose of it all?”

Victor Frankl’s conclusion, from a psychiatric vantage point, is that man without meaning will be depressed, and in fact, should be depressed because at the core of his essence he is empty.  The only hope for him is to find meaning and purpose in his life. Only then will he achieve happiness.

“But, why aren’t I happy? Why don’t I feel fulfilled?” Just asking the question is as telling as the answer. HASHEM created us for a destiny that is greater than simply getting on, making a living, going about this thing we call life. And because of this, I can’t be satisfied with just passing time. I need more. Not more money or luxuries or cars. More meaning. More substance. More significance. Part of me is saying, “I can’t believe that HASHEM put me on this planet just to do the insignificant things that I do. There has to be a higher purpose. There has to be some meaning to it all.”

If a person wants to live a meaningful, satisfying life, he needs to understand himself. He must relate to the needs of his soul. The only way that he can do this is by finding his mission in life, finding out why HASHEM created him, and why HASHEM put him into this thing we call life.

The Activity that Brings Man the Most Happiness

Once a person understands himself, he can engage in the experience that brings him the most happiness – growth. That is what HASHEM put us in this world to do. That is the purpose of all of Creation. And HASHEM implanted within us all of the drives and instincts that we need to grow.

The challenge of life is that there is the other part of me. There is a physical part of him that calls out with its needs, desires, and wishes. If a person follows that voice, for a while he is at occupied, for a moment he’ll find some satisfaction, but it quickly leaves him more empty than before.

HASHEM Wants Us to Be Happy

HASHEM wants us to be happy. HASHEM created everything to give of His good to us. Even though the purpose of life is our station in the World to Come, HASHEM wants us to be happy in this world as well. For that reason, He created so many amenities strictly for us to enjoy. But to enjoy them, a person must learn to use this world properly.

When man follows the Torah’s path, he grows, he accomplishes, and he achieves his purpose in Creation – and he is happy. In that state, he can enjoy all of the beauty of this world. It doesn’t distract him; it is a tool that he uses to further serve his Creator and enhance his growth. The challenge of life is not to get lost, not to get so caught up on the here and now that we forget that there is a tomorrow.

It doesn’t make sense. HASHEM are you angry with me? Are You punishing me? Why do you insist in making my life so difficult?

The problem here is quite simple – I am playing G-d. HASHEM is the creator of the heavens and the earth. He sees the future as the past, and He alone knows what is best for me. I don’t. How many times has it happened that which I knew was so good for me – wasn’t? How many times has it come about that that which I so loathed, turned out to be the best thing for me?

I absolutely had to have that job – then five years later the entire industry is shipped over to India. My son positively had to get into that class, and then I find out that there was a child in that there who would have been the worst influence possible. How many women find the “perfect guy” and then 2 years later are divorced?

For a person to trust HASHEM, one of the thoughts he must embrace is that HASHEM knows better than I what is best for me. As intelligent as I be, I make mistakes. As much as I know, I often blunder. That which I assume is so clear and straightforward is often wrong. I am a mortal, flesh and blood- a mere human. And when things aren’t going my way, I face that brick wall blocking my path, it may well be that HASHEM is not allowing it to go forward because knows better than I what is best for me.

When I reach this core recognition I can stop playing G-d and start playing the role I was created to play—understanding that HASHEM is the Creator and I am His creation.

So let’s assume that while I know that “there’s more to life than money,” that’s true for all those little people who don’t know how to spend their money. But me? I am way smarter than that. I know having money in the bank won’t make me happy. It’s knowing how to spend it that brings happiness. Just give me enough money, and I will be as happy as a lark.

Let’s take this a step further. Imagine that I get a chance to try it out. My greatest wish is granted — I win the lotto. But not just a lotto, I win the largest single payout in history of the US lottery: 365 million dollars in cash. Awesome joy! I made it. I have arrived. I am rich! Rich! RICH!

And so, since all that has been standing between me and some real happiness has been this lack of money thing, now that I have it, I intend to enjoy it! So I set out to have pleasure. But not a little bit of pleasure. Not some haphazard come-as-it-may pleasure, but real pleasure, heaps and heaps of it. Pleasures upon pleasures. As much downright pure pleasure as I can possibly cram in. Eat, drink and be merry for tomorrow we may die! Let’s party!

My Life of Pleasure

The first thing I do is buy myself a private island in the Pacific. What better place to enjoy life than there? I hire a team of butlers and maids and an entire dining room staff. An Italian chef for breakfast, Mediterranean cuisine for lunch, and for dinner nothing but the finest: my personal French chef.

And so, I set out on my pursuit of pleasure.

I plan breakfast for the first morning: Belgian waffles, delicately toasted, covered in Vermont maple syrup, topped with fresh-picked strawberries and hand-whipped cream. I’ll have orange juice flown in that morning from Brazil — all served by white-gloved waiters.

As I prepare for my feast, my anticipation couldn’t be higher. I mean, this is going to be great. Just wait till I taste those waffles… The fluffiness, the gentle flow of sweetness, the depth of flavor — Heaven! I can’t wait for the first bite. My mouth is watering just thinking about it.

And now I am there, the first morning of my pleasure excursion. I approach the table. My personal waiter pulls out the chair, and I sit down. The plate of food is brought in — covered of course, so that it arrives at exactly the temperature it came off the griddle — Heaven forefend for it to cool off while it is being brought out to me. The waiter sets it down, removes the cover, and…         the first bite — wow! It is everything that I thought it would be. (Well, almost… I mean, they do taste very good.)

The second bite not far behind, as I concentrate on the aromas that waft through my palette, I focus on the balance of flavors, and textures. Then the third bite, then the fourth… Then something happens… I find my mind wandering. I just start thinking about my day and everything else I have planned, and before I know it, I am almost finished the plate. Hey, what happened?… My waffles… the maple syrup… my personal chef… And I discover the first rule of pleasure:

The sizzle is better than the steak.

The First Rule of Pleasure

Did you ever notice that the restaurant ads show a thick slice of meat about to be put on the grill, then SZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ! The smoke goes up, and you can almost taste the meat. Why don’t they just show the cooked meat on the plate?

The answer is that one of the rules of marketing is: sell the sizzle, not the steak. Madison Avenue understands well that the anticipated pleasure is much greater than the actual pleasure.

Imagine how good it is going to be. Better than anything you have ever experienced. More delicious than anything you’ve ever tasted.

A funny thing happens when you actually bite into the dish. It isn’t that the steak isn’t good, and it isn’t that the sizzle isn’t real; it’s just that the anticipation was far greater than the pleasure. The sizzle is always better than the steak.

The buildup is great, the anticipation is powerful — but the pleasure never lives up to the promise. Every pleasure is over-promised and under-delivered. The pleasure is built up to be the biggest and best thing that man has ever seen. And while the first bite is pleasurable, that pleasure quickly fades. Because the hype is always greater than what is delivered.

I Will Not Be Deterred

But I am a diehard pleasure-seeker, and a little touch of reality isn’t going to put me off, so I continue on my journey. I finish my first helping, ask for a second and a third, and continue to enjoy a gala breakfast celebration.

Of course, no breakfast would be complete without dessert. Ah! A bit of Rocky Road, my private blend of ice cream, topped with hot Swiss chocolate and fresh whipped cream — only from Hereford cows, please; their cream is just so much thicker.

And I lash into this with the same gusto. (Well, almost the same, because I am pretty full by now.) But this stuff is great; I mean, really great. The first spoon, the second, the third… And then I start slowing down as I simply run out of room. Hmmmmmm? And I suddenly discover the second rule of pleasure:

Every pleasure has a limit.

The Second Rule of Pleasure

No matter what the pleasure is, it lasts for a finite amount of time, and then you are forced to stop. You can eat for thirty minutes, an hour, maybe even two hours, but then you are stuffed — there is just no more room.

Forget the hype, forget the buildup, and forget the sizzle being better than the steak. Let’s take the pleasure itself. Assuming that it really is a deep, rich, memorable experience, how long does it last? No matter how great the pleasure is, if you count the actual time that you had “pleasure,” you will find it to be very short, and then it is done.

Breakfast might last for an hour, but the actual time of intense and profound pleasure, when you were concentrating and taking in all the flavors and aromas, was probably only ten minutes if that long. Lunch might stretch out over an hour and a half, but the actual time of unique, dramatic eating enjoyment won’t be much more than twenty minutes. If we throw in a candle-lit dinner set against the ocean backdrop, assuming that you aren’t distracted by the company, the conversation, your own inner chatter, or whatever else pulls at you at that moment, you might add another twenty minutes. So we have racked up less than an hour of intense powerful pleasure.

And that is the second rule of pleasure: Every pleasure has its limit. Ten minutes, twenty minutes, maybe an hour — then it is done.

Universal Laws of Pleasure

The interesting part is that these rules show themselves in every culture and every time period. They seem to be an iron law of man’s stay on the planet. All pleasures are limited and passing. They look so alluring, so tempting. It really seems that my life will be different, but the physical pleasures pass and I am left… the same.

I Am Not Giving Up Yet!

To be honest, by this point, this pursuit of pleasures thing is starting to wear a bit thin, but my entire life, all that I have asked for is some good powerful pleasure — I’m not giving up now that I am finally here! If eating can’t do it for me, then I will find other ways.

So, off I go to a carefree life of pleasures and enjoyment. First to the Mercedes dealership to buy a string of cars in every color of the rainbow. Next off to Africa for a hot air balloon ride over the Serengeti. Then to Paris to go bungee cord jumping off the Eiffel Tower. No expense is too great, no distance too far — the absolute pursuit of pleasure is my goal.

And I must admit, it is great! Wow! The rush of adrenaline as I looked down and watched a rhinoceros charging out of the undergrowth! (Well, it didn’t really charge, but it did sort of walk, and I did have to hover for two hours in 115 degree heat till it finally decided to move.) That sense of excitement and exhilaration as I stared down a thousand feet to the concrete of the French street below! (Terror might be a better word, but I said to myself, “Yes, now this is truly living.”)

But when it is all over and I come back from my exotic and far-flung adventures, I discover the fourth rule of pleasure:

I had a good time.

The next Rule of Pleasure

Ask someone to describe a pleasurable experience, maybe a week-long cruise to the Bahamas, a ski trip to the Swiss Alps, and carefully study their description:

“Wow, it was amazing.”

“I had such a great time.”

“I enjoyed it so much.”

Please note that all of these are in the past tense, as in:

“Wow, it was amazing.”

“I had such a great time.”

“I enjoyed it so much.”

And so we come to the next rule of pleasure: Once the pleasure is had, it is gone.

Used up. No more. Nothing left but memories. I am left as I was before the pleasure — unchanged.

What Are We Up To?

Now, as they say, the plot thickens. It is clear that Hashem wants us to enjoy life, as He created many, many pleasures, and gave us the ability to benefit from them. He also gave us the drive to seek them. Yet, for some reason all pleasures seem to be so limited, so difficult to attain, and so passing. Does He want us to enjoy them or not? If He doesn’t want us to benefit from all of these features, why put them there in the first place? If He does want us to enjoy them, why is it so difficult?

Bring the Shmuz to your Community!

The new Shmuz on Life books, will, IY”HASHEM, be arriving by the end of November. To help promote the book, I am interested in speaking in various communities. If you feel that yours shul, school, or organization would benefit from the Shmuz, please let me know and we can discuss the details about bringing the Shmuz.

Also, I am looking for volunteers to place copies of the book excerpt in their Shuls. It is a small booklet that contains the first two chapters of the book and is a great way of letting people gets a taste for the Shmuz on Life book.  If you are willing to take a few copies and leave them in your shul for others to look at, please let me know.

You can either e-mail Mrs Zweig by responding to this e-mail, or you may e-mail me directly at Rebbe@TheShmuz.com.

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I will never wear a tie; no I’ll never wear a tie.

Or a serious expression, not a serious expression,

In the middle of July, in the middle of July.

No, I won’t grow up, never grow up, never grow up. Not I.

– Peter Pan

One of the results of Hashem putting our holy nishamah into a corporeal body is that we are unable to see certain realities. We may be aware of them, but we can’t feel them. One of these is our mortality. We have great difficulty seeing ourselves dying. It’s not that we don’t want to think about death or that the thought makes us uncomfortable. It’s much more basic — we just don’t intend to die. In our operating mode of thought, it’s just not going to happen. Of course, we know that it will occur, but it doesn’t enter into our thinking. Intellectually we know it, but emotionally it remains in some far off place, and we certainly don’t live life as if it will ever end.

For example: as a rule, mature people are responsible. They put away money for retirement. They buy life insurance — just in case. They set up annuities for the grandchildren — who aren’t even born yet. Everything in life is all planned for. Everything all arranged. Yet somehow, there is one small detail that gets overlooked: what happens after they die?

If dying were a serious possibility, wouldn’t you spend time thinking about it? You planned your career. You carefully picked a neighborhood for your family to live in. You were highly selective in choosing schools for your children. When you were sick, you didn’t say, “We’ll just see what happens.” Every part of life was worked out — no stone was left unturned. It’s only this one little area you forgot to deal with: the purpose of life and what happens to me when it’s over.

The reason we don’t think about this is that we don’t see ourselves ever dying. Of course, on one level we know it. After all, how many people do you know who shook hands with George Washington? How many people can say they met Abraham Lincoln? I may even be able to quote the annual death rate of people in my age bracket by region, but that remains in theory. In the emotional realm, in my real mode of functioning, it will never happen. And we just go on without a care in the world.

A Special Society

The Chofetz Chaim explains that we feel there is a society of people who die. It is the older people, the sick people, the unlucky people. They belong to this select group who die — and I am not a member. So while I may be very aware of death, it doesn’t apply to me.

Amazingly, this plays out in all times, in all individuals, old or young, healthy or sick. I saw a telling example of this once when visiting my grandmother. In her later years, she would spend the summers in a hotel in the Catskills Mountains. I would visit regularly, and on one occasion we were sitting together with a number of her friends — all senior citizens. The conversation was pleasant until someone mentioned that “so and so” had passed away. Another person commented, “Oy! What a shame. All of the old people are dying.”

I looked around the group and was taken aback. There wasn’t a person there under eighty. They were all grandmothers and great-grandmothers. They had all lost their parents. Most had lost siblings. Many had lost a spouse. Yet dying was still a distant concept. It wasn’t real. On some level, it remained something that wasn’t going to happen to them. It was the old people who were dying. The unfortunate people. It’s a select group — and I am not a member.

Getting Real

This blindness has a real cost. Before a person can think about living with a purpose, he must understand life. And until death becomes real to him, his life remains a never-ending Disney adventure — the world of Peter Pan, where the current situation will last forever, and nothing bad will ever happen. Most of humanity spend their existence in this fantasy world. And much like Peter Pan, in their heart of hearts, each person feels, “I won’t grow old. Not I. I will always be young and healthy, and of course, I will never die.” And so, like children, they spend their time playing with things. Big toys, little toys, trinkets and playthings, castles and moats, bridges and boats, medals of honor and badges of prestige, and of course money, money and some more money. Oh, so luscious and green and crumply. Oh, how happy it makes me!

And while it’s true that in this dream world life is cheap and meaningless, it sure is fun! Live it up! You only get one shot at this thing called life — you might as well enjoy it now. Let’s party! And the carnival goes on and on and on. Until, they get sick, or old, or infirm or bored, and everything comes to a crashing halt. The party ends. And then the questions begin. Many questions. Real questions. Of course, in their fantasy lives, they were too busy to ask questions. But now, the questions appear. Questions on God. Questions on suffering. Questions that need answers. Questions that have no answers because they are based on a world of make-believe that misconstrues the very reason behind existence.

Amazingly, up until that point, not only weren’t there questions, there wasn’t even the realization that the celebration would one day end.

Understanding the Master Plan

This phenomenon isn’t simply a quirk in human behavior. It is critical to the master plan of Creation. If I could think about my death in a real manner, it would radically change my life. I would be forced to deal with those issues that I currently ignore: Why did Hashem create me? What is it that I am supposed to accomplish with my life? These questions would loom so large in front of me that I would have to seek out answers. Those answers would compel me to change.

I wouldn’t be able to live in the slumber that I do now. I could no longer spend my time on frivolous pursuits. My nishamah would scream out, “Do something! Accomplish! How can you waste your life like that?”

Even the body’s appetites and desires wouldn’t be able to pull me, as I would recognize that following them damages me. I would view temptations as I do any physical danger. Just as it’s obvious that no matter how thirsty I am, I wouldn’t drink bleach, so, too, no amount of passion could seduce me to do things that I recognize as self-destructive. And I would ignore the body’s foolish demands.

In short, I would live a focused, directed existence, and I would function on a lofty level and achieve great things. But it wouldn’t be by choice. I would be forced into it. And that isn’t free will. To allow for practical free will, both sides have to be equally viable. Living a life of purpose has to be as easy as losing one’s way. Thinking has to be effortless as going to “sleep” — getting so caught up in the process of living that I never deal with the most basic of all issues.

Because of this, no matter how obvious it is to others, his end will be hidden from him. Whether he has an IQ of 180 or the intelligence of a gnat, it will be difficult for him to see his death. And that is the critical distinction: difficult but not impossible. Man isn’t forced to succeed, but success is within his reach. He can go either way. It is in his capacity to just float, never giving more than a passing thought to why he exists, or he can live with meaning and intention and craft a significant life.

Yet his career wasn’t a walk in the park. At the age of twenty-one, he was diagnosed with an aggressive form of cancer and given a twenty percent chance of survival. His racing days were clearly over. Much to his doctors’ surprise, he survived. While recovering, he began thinking about racing again. Seven years later, he went on to become the second American in history to win the Tour de France, a race known as the world’s toughest sporting event. He then went on to win that race seven years in a row, setting a record that may never be broken.

While in the process of setting that record, and then only moderately famous, Lance was interviewed by a reporter about his comeback from cancer. In the course of the discussion, the reporter couldn’t help but notice how lightly he seemed to take the disease. Not only wasn’t he bitter about the experience, it seemed that he was flippant — maybe even happy about it. At one point the reporter said, “The way that you speak about cancer, it almost sounds like you are glad that it happened.”

He replied, “Why would I give up the single greatest thing that happened to me? It made my career. It made my life. Knowing that it could all be over was the most life-changing experience I ever went through. Why would I ever want to give that up?”

A Very Different Perspective

Those are very powerful words and a perspective on death that few people have.

Thinking about death is depressing — if you don’t understand life. If life is a party and death is the end, then death is a downer. If, however, the reason we are here on this planet makes sense, then death isn’t depressing; it is a galvanizing, energizing thought. It gets you out of bed in the morning and keeps you moving at night. It gives you the energy to change and to grow. The knowledge that this program is timed adds the sparkle and the luster — almost, if you will, the fun — to life. Few things in the world are as dreary as an empty existence, time with nothing to do. Few things make an event as tedious as no goals and no end in sight.

Ironically, the more a person embraces the reality of death, the more he enjoys life. Provided he understands life and how to live it, the thought of the death awakens him and adds spark and vigor to his days. And with it comes a deep sense of balance and harmony. However, a truly mature perspective on life isn’t easy to achieve. It doesn’t come about by studying some texts and then whamo — everything changes. It requires a change in our emotional makeup, and that takes time, a lot of thinking, and constant reinforcement. And even then, we may have it clearly in front of our eyes at one moment, but then it slips away and we find ourselves again living half asleep.

There is a very message to us in this as well. If we would ever be gut-wrenchingly, brutally honest with ourselves and recognize that one day we will leave this earth, that awareness alone would change the whole balance of life. Our nishamos would scream out, “Do something! You only have a short while here. Discover your purpose and pursue it for all you’re worth, darn it!” The result would be a life that is more directed, more passionate, and more meaningful. We would recognize the extraordinary value of life and what we are here to accomplish. And we would be so much more alive, living by design, not by chance. The first step is to be aware of the importance of accepting death. When we do, death becomes something that we embrace, and we find different venues and opportunities to experience it and make it real.

Death should not be difficult to define. It is when the spirit, the essence of the person, no longer occupies his body. As long as you are housed in your body, you are alive. Once you leave the body, you are dead. What is so complicated about that?

The reason that death is difficult to quantify is because science is very effective at measuring physical properties. How long? How dense? How hot? How distant? But you are not physical. Your body is physical. You aren’t. We are so used to mixing ourselves up with our bodies that we have trouble remembering that they are separate entities. And so we end up applying physical measurements to something that doesn’t exist in that dimension.

It’s like trying to weigh light. If someone were to ask you, “How many pounds does that beam of light weigh?” you would give him a strange look. We can measure luminosity. Candle power is a convenient standard of reference. But weight is the wrong criteria to use for measuring light. So, too, we can’t use physical attributes to measure you. We can’t put “the essence of you” into a beaker, add red dye, heat it up, and see what color it turns. The body is measurable in physical terms. Blood pressure is quantifiable. Breathing efficiency can be calculated. Gas levels in the blood can be determined. But what test do you run to see if you are still there? You aren’t physical, and any attempt to measure you with physical criteria will fail. And so, just as weight isn’t relevant to light, death isn’t applicable to you. Death applies to physical life. So while the body dies, you live on.

I Am Not the Brain

There is, however, one more step we need to take to fully grasp this concept. When we begin this process of relating to our body and ourselves as separate entities, many people get a blank look on their faces, these ideas being as foreign to them as moon dust. After a while, though, they start to relate to their bodies as the outer shell, a casing, a tool that they use. Then comes that aha moment. Like a light bulb that clicks on, their faces light up with excitement and they shout, “I get it! I get it! I am not my head. Not my chest. Not my back. I am not even my heart! I finally get it. I am the brain! Right?”

Wrong! When they bury the body, the brain is buried with it. Just as you are not the head or the chest, you are not the brain either. The brain is an organ you think with. It is something you use to filter your experiences through, but it isn’t you. This is a very significant step. Even your brain is physical.

A Flash of Intuition

Did you ever have a flash of intuition? It was hard to explain, but you just knew something. Maybe it was a hunch, maybe a thought, but it was there. Then you had to run it through that clunky, concrete process called thought. “Let me see… what I mean is…” This is an example of knowing something and then having to process it through your brain. The brain is sluggish and thick, slow to understand, and quick to forget. When you leave this heavy coat of physicality that we call the body, you are no longer limited to thinking through the brain. At that point, everything comes through in a flash of brilliance. You perceive. You understand. And you remember every action, every conversation, and every thought you ever had — from the time that you were an infant until your last dying breath. All right there, accessible, because you and your thoughts are one.

Did you ever wonder what happens to a great Torah scholar who at the end of his days suffers from Alzheimer’s disease? He spent a lifetime accumulating Torah knowledge and now can access none of it. What happens after he leaves this earth? As an old man, he is unable to recall the Torah that he learned because the physical organ called the brain isn’t functioning properly. His brain is damaged, but he, the essence of him, remembers everything. When he leaves this life, everything will come flowing back.

This tendency to view ourselves as physical entities is a severely limiting thought, and inhibits our growth. On the simplest level, if we don’t understand who we are and what we are made of, it is a given that life won’t make sense. We will have many, many questions, and there will be no answers.

-Travel ad

There is an entire industry dedicated to writing travel brochures. Their advertisements offer to take you by rail, cruise, and camel back from the African rain forests to the snow-covered Alps. Then off to Jamaica, Aruba, and the Gulf of Mexico — from the quaint to the spectacular, the picturesque to the breathtaking. They beckon you to see the world.

If you watch people when they look at these pamphlets, they often get a far-off gaze in their eyes as they imagine themselves traveling to those exotic lands. This is interesting because most people who pick them up have no intention of ever going to those places. They’re nice to look at, interesting to see, but it has nothing to do with me.

This seems to be the way we view the World to Come. Intriguing! Fascinating! I love the descriptions. But it has nothing to do with me. Don’t get me wrong; being close to Hashem and enjoying eternal bliss sound wonderful. It’s just that I have no intention of being there. You see, by the time it happens, I will be dead. My nishamah might be there. My soul could end up there. But me? I will be dead and gone. So this whole discussion is interesting, but irrelevant.

I Am a Physical Being

The reason we feel this way is that we view ourselves as physical beings. After all, isn’t man just flesh and blood, a mere mortal? “With the sweat of his brow he earns his daily bread, and then passes from the earth never to be heard from again.” We get so caught up in this limited definition of man that we start to believe it. And we start to confuse ourselves with our bodies. Oh, granted, I have a soul — whatever that is — but it has little to do with me. I am this body. Ever since I can remember, I’ve been inside this body. Everything that I have ever experienced is through it. I guess this is all there is. And life seems to confirm this. If you punch my arm, it hurts me. If I stub my toe, I feel pain. I and my body are one. So obviously, when this body is buried in the ground, I am dead. Gone. Extinct. And the World to Come is irrelevant.

Of course, we are supposed to believe otherwise. The problem is that in our heart of hearts, this is how we feel. The question is: how do we get our feelings in line with our beliefs? Here is an illustration that may help.

The Biggest Case in Your Life

Imagine you are a lawyer. You’ve been in practice for ten years, and this is the biggest case of your life. The suit is so significant and the issues so pivotal to the practice of law that the court proceedings are being videotaped. All of the senior partners of your firm are in the courtroom, waiting to see how the case is decided. Yesterday the judge asked you for a brief outlining the key position in your case. He now resumes court, and says in a solemn voice:

“Mr. Goldstein, I have been a judge now for ten years, and I have practiced law for twenty years before that.”

Your heart is racing; you have no idea where this is going.

“In all my years on the bench,” he continues, “I have never read such a well-organized, lucid, and logically compelling brief as the one you presented. Mr. Goldstein, you are to be congratulated.”

And at that moment, the judge and the entire courtroom burst into applause.

If you were to describe your feelings at that moment, I would imagine it would be something like a feeling of elation spreading through your entire being. Intense happiness, awesome joy. Most likely, you wouldn’t walk out of court that day; you would float out, feeling like you were transcending time and place. Wowwwwwwwwwwwww!

What Part of You Felt It?

The part of you that experienced that sensation wasn’t your hands, or your feet, or your head. It wasn’t any part of your body that felt it. You felt it. You felt pleasure. You were ecstatic. That sense of pleasure isn’t dependent upon your body. In fact, it has no connection to your physical state of being. But you experienced it.

On the other side of the spectrum, imagine that someone is screaming at you, calling you every nasty name in the book. “You worthless excuse of a human being. I didn’t even know that people as low as you could exist.” Hearing those words causes you pain. You feel hurt. It’s not your heart that feels it. It’s not your nerves or your synapses that feel embarrassed. You do. True, you feel with your fingers, taste with your tongue, and smell with your nose, but it is you that experiences it. You are the one who occupies the body and controls its destiny. You are the master of the ship.

There are many things that you feel that aren’t physical in nature. The full gamut of emotions, from love to hate to rage to jealousy, are things that you feel. You feel proud of your accomplishments. You feel appreciative of kind gestures from others, and you feel hurt by cruel words that people say. It isn’t your heart that feels the pain. Euphemistically, we use expressions like a broken heart, but what we really mean is that you have been hurt.

You enjoy listening to music and looking at beautiful landscapes. You feel a sense of awe when you view a majestic mountain. You are moved to tears by the sheer power of the ocean. You are grieved when a friend dies. You are ecstatic when your sister has a baby.

Joy Isn’t Physical

Any joy that we experience isn’t physical. Our bodies feel pleasure; our souls feel joy. Happiness, satisfaction, and serenity — conditions that we value above everything else in life — have little to do with the body. They don’t come to us through the body, and they aren’t dependent upon our physical state. Most of what makes us human, those feelings and sensations that separate us from the animal kingdom, aren’t physical in nature and don’t depend upon our body for their existence.

The emotion you feel when holding your newborn daughter for the first time in the delivery room. Can we even describe such an experience? The heart feels it, or more accurately you feel it, but it isn’t physical. These are inner conditions that almost defy description. But they are real, and you feel them.

When your body dies, you will live on. You — with all of your feelings, thoughts, and memories — step out of the coat called the body.

I Am a Spiritual Being

But even more restricting is that this confusion causes us to view our spiritual experiences as oddities, almost as if they were unnatural. On Shabbos, sometimes we feel spirituality. When we walk into shul on Yom Kippur, maybe we feel holiness. These occurrences feel almost strange because here we are, physical beings, having these rare spiritual experiences.

Nothing could be further from the truth! You are not a physical being having an occasional spiritual experience. You are a spiritual being, temporarily having a physical experience. You were taken from under Hashem’s throne of glory and temporarily put into this body. You remain here for but a few years, and then you will return. The same you. Not some scaled down version, not some distant cousin. You separate from the body and return, either vastly improved or the opposite… but it is you. You are totally, completely spiritual.

This concept is vital toward understanding what Hashem wants from us. One of the reasons that people have trouble relating to certain mitzvos is because they ask, “Why does the Torah harp on such trivia? What does it matter whether I eat this or do that?” From a physical perspective, these questions are valid. If you were just a body, then most of the Torah’s mitzvos would not be necessary. There is nothing in the body that is changed by them, so nothing is accomplished. Once we are able to break out of this limited perspective and understand our nature, then much of what Hashem asks from us instantly makes sense. The Torah is the system of spiritual perfection. It was hand-crafted by our Maker to guide us toward the heights for which we were created.

Growth in the Spiritual World

Because our bodies exist in the physical world, they are essentially stagnant. Any changes that we make in them are hard-won and quickly lost. Only with great effort can we lose weight. Only with much strain can we build muscle mass. On the other hand, because we are spiritual, we are highly susceptible to change. We were put into a situation where our actions, words, and thoughts shape us. They have a profound effect on our essence, and that change remains. And so, we were given the Torah, a program for spiritual success. If we follow that program, we grow level after level, and when we leave this transient state, then forever we will enjoy our accomplishments.

Probably the biggest liability of viewing ourselves as physical beings is that we get so caught up in this world. How much money I make. How much honor I receive. How nice is my car, my house, my boat, my watch. All of these things matter so much because I am here, and it is forever. And even when we discuss such concepts as the World to Come, we tend to look at it as we view travel brochures; they are interesting, but not relevant because we have no intention of ever going there. It won’t be me who goes there. I’ll be dead. So it just doesn’t matter.

But that is the point. It will be you. Not your cousin or some scaled down version of you. You will step out of this physical body, and you will be exactly what you shaped yourself into.

Understanding Life

Once we are able to view things from this broader perspective, life takes on a whole new meaning. When we see this world as the gym, and the World to Come as the spa, then how we use our time here matters greatly. If we care about life here, we sure had better care far more about life there. It is a whole lot more significant, and it lasts forever. The more that you learn to see the reality of this, the more your life is significant, real and meaningful.

Let’s start with the animal kingdom. There are many gifts that animals enjoy that man doesn’t. If man is the highest order of Creation, wouldn’t it make sense to take all of the strengths of the animal kingdom and invest them in him? Yet that isn’t what we see. Let me give you an example.

You Can’t Fight a Bear

George Dillman was a karate master. He was also a bit of a showman. He decided he was going to put on the ultimate karate demonstration. He had already gone through the whole gamut of breaking things: first boards, then bricks, and then large blocks of ice. Now he was looking to do something really spectacular. He decided that he was going to fight a bear.

Of course, it was only going to be a show, so he hired a circus bear for the performance. The bear had been trained to wrestle, and George got together with the bear’s trainer to choreograph a fight scene between “man and beast.” Here, however, was the problem. While George may have been a highly proficient martial artist, he had a flaw: he took himself seriously — maybe a tad too seriously. He decided that he was going to make headlines. Instead of just going through the fight scene as planned, he was going to actually knock the bear out.

On the day of the demonstration, the crowd gathers and George takes the stage. The trainer brings out the bear. The two square off, and the “battle” begins. The bear moves forward, and George steps back. The bear lunges toward him, and George sidesteps. Then the bear swings wide, George ducks, and then he hauls off and smashes the bear full force in the chest. You could hear the thud three rows back.

Needless to say, George didn’t knock the bear out. But he did manage to get the bear angry. Real angry. So angry that if it weren’t for the bear’s trainer somehow stepping in and calming the animal down, George would have been killed.

George learned an important lesson that day: you can be a high ranking karate master with twenty years of combat experience, but you can’t fight a bear. A bear is six hundred pounds of solid muscle! A bear is just so much stronger than a man.

As Strong as a Bear

Here is a question to ponder: why didn’t Hashem create us like bears? Why didn’t Hashem make man big and strong and made out of six hundred pounds of solid muscle? Wouldn’t it have prevented an awful lot of suffering over the years? Wouldn’t man’s stay on this planet have been more pleasant?

Have you ever waited for a bus on a freezing February morning and no matter how many layers of clothing you had on, you were still shivering to the bone? You won’t find that happening to a polar bear. Polar bears have a layer of fat under their skin that keeps them warm. In the middle of winter, they break open the arctic ice and go in for a nice dip. Then they come out and sun themselves in the minus twenty degree air. Why didn’t Hashem make us that way? Why not create us just like a polar bear, big and strong with a thick fur coat so that we shouldn’t suffer from the cold?

Why not take the same essence of man — the same intelligence, the same personality — and put him into a stronger, more powerful body? Wouldn’t man have been better off that way?

A Shark’s Tooth

Let me give you another example. Have you ever found yourself in the dentist’s chair in excruciating pain? The next time you do, I want you to think of the shark. Why the shark? Because that mighty hunter of the sea has up to twenty-five rows of teeth, one set behind the next. If one tooth gets damaged, another one falls into place. A shark is born with a lifetime’s supply of teeth. Now, wouldn’t it have been more convenient to create man that way, with many rows of teeth? If one goes bad, just pop it out, and in comes the next one.

Why didn’t Hashem create man that way?

It seems that there are many advantages that creatures of the wild have that man was not given. He was created as is: weak, susceptible to attack, and subject to the elements. It almost appears as if man was purposely created in this independent yet dependent mode, as if he was to be the master of his fate, yet still fragile and vulnerable. And the question that begs being asked is: why? Why not make him big and strong and indestructible?

An even clearer example of this is disease and illness. Hashem created a stupefying immune system in man — ready to pounce on every imaginable germ — yet He left huge, gaping holes in that defense system. Take man, the powerful, controller of his own destiny. Along comes one lone cancer cell, and our man is no more.

The African Clawed Frog

Michael Zasloff, a biochemist with the National Institute of Health, recently made a fantastic discovery. While working with the African clawed frog, he noticed that it never suffered infections. Even when researchers performed surgery on these frogs and returned them to murky, bacteria-filled waters, they remained free from disease. Two months after making his observation, Zasloff discovered why. It seems that the frog’s skin secretes a family of antibodies that protect it from infection. When the frog feels threatened, it emits a white fluid that kills all known forms of bacteria.

Isn’t that amazing: a frog that can’t get an infection? A small, insignificant creature that is impervious to disease. How many people have died of infection over the millennia? Before penicillin, it was probably the greatest killer on the face of this planet. And even now, don’t we suffer from all types of infections and illnesses?

Why not put these same antibodies in man? We see that Hashem is capable of creating an organism that is completely protected from disease; He did it for the little frog. Wouldn’t it have been kind to give this to man as well? Wouldn’t man’s stay on this planet be improved? Wouldn’t he live longer and enjoy life more without the constant threat of sickness looming over his head?

If you were to tell me that Hashem wasn’t wise enough to figure out all of the answers to man’s problems, it would be one thing. But we see a world replete with His wisdom. We see these very wonders in abundance in the natural world. Yet man was given some advantages and not others. Doesn’t it make you wonder?

What about Pain?

But there are other features that are even more problematic. It seems that are some things Hashem put into man that do him no good at all. In fact, quite the opposite, they seem to make his existence miserable. Let’s take pain for example. Have you ever had a headache that wouldn’t go away? Or a toothache that didn’t allow you to function? Who needs it? What benefit does it provide?

How about someone in chronic pain, the type of pain that doesn’t allow him to do anything other than focus on alleviating the debilitating anguish consuming him? What good does that do?

Granted, some pain is beneficial; avoidance pain teaches you to pull your hand away from a hot pot so that you don’t burn yourself. But what about arthritic pain that won’t allow a man to leave his bed? What possible benefit is there in that? And so, why create it? And if it need be created, why not provide some kind of shut-off mechanism? In such a complex and sophisticated system as the one hundred billion cells that make up the central nervous system, I am sure that Hashem could have put in a timer that would stop the transmission of pain after, say, five minutes.

This question becomes far more troubling when you look at all of the varied sorts of pains that plague man. When you stub your toe, it hurts, and when smash your shin, it hurts — but the hurt isn’t the same. A toothache is very different than a burn on your finger. A migraine isn’t the same as a pulled hamstring. Kidney stones don’t feel anything like an upset stomach. Each segment of the body has its own sensitivities, and each sensation is unique: burns, scrapes, bruises, fractures, and cuts. And pain varies in intensity. Have you seen those pain charts they show the patients after an operation? On a scale of one to ten, how much does it hurt? From severe to mild, from chronic to acute. You could write poetry about the different shades, flavors and gradations of pain.

Who needs it? Who benefits from it? And here is the key question: why create it? If it just sort of happened, it would be one thing, but it was carefully planned. An astounding amount of detail went into making it work. Site receptors were placed in the fingertip. Neural pathways were arranged to move the electrical impulses up the body. The thalamus, that part of the brain that directs traffic, was designed to properly move the data. The interpretive part of the brain was fashioned to read the information and send back its determination, the electrical signal regulated and directed back down to the site of the injury. All for me to say, “OUCH!”

Who needs it? For goodness sake, why create it?

I’m In a Great Mood

While we are asking questions, here is something even more curious. Scientists are now able to measure the effects of certain chemicals on our moods. When I am happy, there is a chemical change in my brain and an increase in neurotransmitters that affect how I feel.

There are different ways to cause the release of these chemicals. One is via medication, and another is through exercise. After a sustained period of physical activity, a gland releases these chemicals, causing a sensation of mild euphoria. Athletes are well aware of this; they call it runner’s high.

Here is a simple question: we know that Hashem is more merciful than anyone we could ever imagine. Hashem loves His creations far more than a father loves his child. So couldn’t Hashem, in His infinite kindness, have given us a bigger gland that would constantly release this joy activator and we would be happy forever?!

Why not? It makes no difference to Hashem. He is creating the gland anyway; why not just make it a little bigger? That would put an end to so much misery in the world.

Imagine this: you wake up in the morning, stretch out your arms, and that gland secretes a nice big dose.

“Wow! How great to be alive!”

You sit down to a glass of orange juice, and another wave of euphoria comes over you.

“Wowwwwwww!!!!”

Why not create man that way? It is clear that Hashem has the capacity to do it. With this increased level of chemicals in his brain, man would truly be able to live a life of pleasure and comfort. Why not give it to him?

Let Us Make Man

To show you how penetrating this line of questioning is, let’s say that I was given the opportunity to design man. At the risk of sounding irreverent, I think I would do a much better job than Hashem did. If I was given the chance to take all of the wonders that we see in this world and put them together to make a human being. I could put together man in a way that he would be much better suited for life in the real world.

Let’s imagine early one morning, a booming voice from Heaven calls out: “RABBI!”

“Yes?”

“I HEAR THAT YOU HAVE MANY COMPLAINTS ABOUT THE WAY THAT HASHEM DID THINGS.”

“Uhhh… No, Sir, not complaints. I just was wondering out loud…”

“IF YOU THINK THAT YOU CAN DO BETTER, THEN GO AHEAD. YOU MAKE MAN!”

And so, given a mandate, I set out to create man. Using only features that I find already in this world, I get to pick and choose, putting together a brand new man.

Superman

What a man I would make! I wouldn’t create a puny, weak, little man. My man would be as strong and indestructible as a bear. He would be as fast as a cheetah and as brave as a lion. I would give him teeth like a shark and an immune system like the African clawed frog. He would have super-sensitive hearing like a bat, and he would be able to go for weeks without water like a camel. He wouldn’t have a problem with pain. Not my man! I would give him an automatic shut-off switch.

But more than that, he would have a joy gland as large as a coconut. With a constant supply of joy, he would be as happy as a lark all day long. Oh, another thing. Laziness? Not in my man. I would give him the energy level of an ant. Why, he would work all day without tiring; only at night would he stop to rest. Anger? Nope. I don’t think that would do him any good. I would get rid of that part altogether. What about competition and jealousy? Not a chance. Too many people have been killed over the millennia because of that. Arrogance? No way. He would be humble as pie. What a man he would be!

Here is the perplexing part: it is clear that Hashem is capable of creating just such a man, as He designed all of these features and placed them in other species. So why didn’t He mix and match them, taking the best of each and blending them together to form the pinnacle of Creation — man?

The Way It Is

It seems that so much wisdom went into making man exactly as he is. It’s as if Hashem purposefully created man in the state that he is in: strong, yet fragile; master of the earth, yet dependent upon it for his very survival. Man, who has the capacity to find joy, and also to suffer. Man, who lives with the full gamut of human weakness that entraps generation after generation, so often ending in war and destruction. Man, who is this unique conglomeration of strength and weakness, created in such fine balance. Why create him this way?

Summing It All Up

It seems that the more we study man, the less we understand.

It is clear that Hashem wants man to enjoy life, as He created many features solely for that purpose. Yet man doesn’t seem to benefit from them. It appears that Hashem wants man to have pleasures, as He gave man an inborn drive to seek them. Yet when man does pursue them, not only does he find their enjoyment fleeting, he is left empty, yearning for more. It seems that Hashem wants man to be happy. Yet man has a host of conflicting needs and drives that leave him in an inner conflict.

However, by far the most bewildering point is that every improvement that man has over the animal kingdom seems to cause him only more unhappiness and more pain. Elsie the cow, grazing away in the field, doesn’t suffer from depression. You don’t read about mass suicide pacts amongst the lemurs.

If you search through the annals of time, what has man’s wisdom brought him? Granted it has brought him love, altruism, a sense of caring and commitment to others. But it has also brought him jealousy, deceit, hate, war and destruction. Animals kill to eat. Man kills for a host of other reasons — with cause and without. If, on balance, most of humanity were happy most of the time, we might argue that man’s lot was improved by adding these features, but that doesn’t seem to be the case. In fact, quite the opposite — it seems that every feature given to man only causes him additional misery.

Why would a kind, giving Creator make man this way? Why would a loving God make life so difficult?

The answer to these questions isn’t a one-line, pat response. Rather, it requires a dramatic perspective change. It calls for a different view of man and of what Hashem wants from him. It necessitates stepping out of our current existence, climbing up to 35,000 feet, and looking at life from a much broader vantage point. We are ready to start that journey.

ספר מסילת ישרים – פרק א

וְתִרְאֶה בֶּאֱמֶת שֶׁכְּבָר לֹא יוּכַל שׁוּם בַּעַל שֵׂכֶל לְהַאֲמִין שֶׁתַּכְלִית בְּרִיאַת הָאָדָם הוּא לְמַצָּבוֹ בָּעוֹלָם הַזֶּה, כִּי מַה הֵם חַיֵּי הָאָדָם בָּעוֹלָם הַזֶּה? אוֹ מִי הוּא שֶׁשָּמֵחַ וְשָׁלֵו מַמָּשׁ בָּעוֹלָם הַזֶּה? “יְמֵי שְׁנוֹתֵינוּ בָּהֶם שִׁבְעִים שָׁנָה, וְאִם בִּגְבוּרֹת שְׁמוֹנִים שָׁנָה, וְרָהְבָּם עָמָל וָאָוֶן” (תהלים צ, י’). בְּכַמָּה מִינֵי צַעַר וָחֳלָאִים וּמַכְאוֹבִים וּטְרָדוֹת, וְאַחַר כָּל זֹאת – הַמָּוֶת. אֶחָד מִנִּי אֶלֶף לֹא יִמָּצֵא שֶׁיַּרְבֶּה הָעוֹלָם לוֹ הֲנָאוֹת וְשַׁלְוָה אֲמִתִּית, וְגַם הוּא – אִלּוּ יַגִּיעַ לְמֵאָה שָׁנָה כְּבָר עָבַר וּבָטֵל מִן הָעוֹלָם.

No thinking person could possibly believe that Hashem created us for our station in this world.

Mesillas Yesharim, Chapter 1

“This is one of the biggest projects ever undertaken in the history of the city,” he announces over the megaphone. “The plans call for 110 floors, poured concrete over steel girders. It is to be one of the largest, yet safest buildings ever built. But it seems there’s been a mistake in calculations — we are over budget. In fact, we’re so over-extended that the only way we can continue this project is if we change the plans. Normally for this type of structure, we would dig down hundreds of feet into the bedrock to secure a solid foundation, but the cost of doing that is prohibitive. So we’ve decided to just begin the building from the ground floor up. We will eliminate the foundation. We begin construction in ten minutes.” And, with that, he ends the meeting.

Every worker there would look on in shock, thinking, “How can you build a building without a foundation?” It will never stand. No matter how solid the materials, no matter how well-planned the building, if the very foundation upon which it stands is lacking, one strong wind will topple the entire structure.

The Basis of Our Religion

The Mesillas Yesharim tells us that the very foundation of our religion, the bedrock upon which it rests, is one core question: Why did Hashem create me? What am I doing here? What is the purpose of my life?

But this isn’t simply an important issue — one of those interesting, theoretical questions worth pondering — it is the basis for everything we do, the foundation of everything we’re living for. If a person doesn’t ask and answer this question, then the rest of his life is built upon quicksand.

Oddly enough, if you were to conduct a survey of educated Jews and ask them why Hashem created man, you would likely get a number of answers:

“To serve Hashem.”

“To do mitzvos.”

“To learn.”

“To make the world a better place.”

“I’m not sure.”

While they all may be very worthwhile and fine concepts, the Mesillas Yesharim is teaching us that they’re not the reason that Hashem put us on the planet, and certainly not the basis for everything that we do.

It is intriguing that many people can’t correctly answer this question. It is, however, even more compelling that most people don’t even ask it. You might wonder: is it possible that thinking, intelligent people don’t feel an overwhelming need to answer this question? How can a person live without knowing why? How can you make life decisions without an answer? How can you plan a family without a clear understanding of the purpose of it all?

The ironic part is that this question isn’t confined to religion. It is a universal question that every human being must address. If I accept that God created this world and all that it contains, that means that God created me as well. Then the question is: why? What am I doing here? What is expected of me? Why was I created?

The answer to this question will impact on every decision I will ever make. It will set my priorities, and determine my lifestyle. It will define my values and calibrate how I measure success. More than anything, it will establish my goals and aspirations in life.

Is it possible that a person can go about this thing called life without having worked out a solid answer to this question? Isn’t the answer going to profoundly affect his life more than anything else imaginable?

An Apparition

As an illustration, imagine it is a quiet summer evening. You are walking along the beach, looking out at the calmness of the ocean when you notice what looks like a faint light far off on the horizon. Slowly, the light seems to grow larger and brighter, then brighter still, until it lights up the entire ocean. Suddenly, a towering figure appears. It looks like the form of a man in long robes. You can’t make out any features, but it is huge and shining with a white glow. Then, without warning, a powerful voice booms out over the horizon:

“MOISHE!”

“Yee-eesss???” you meekly respond.

“I have been sent to tell you the secret of Creation…”

“Oh, my goodness! A malach. An angel is speaking to me! Yes. Yes. Please tell me. What is the secret of Creation?”

“The secret to understanding all of life is to understand why Hashem created the world.”

“Yes, yes. Tell me. I’m ready. What is it? What is the reason behind it all?”

“The reason that Hashem created the world, and all that it contains, is so that you should make money.”

“So… that I should make money?”

“Yes. So that you should make money.”

“Money? I mean, that’s it? That’s the reason for everything? That’s the reason that Hashem made the heavens and the earth, the oceans and the rivers?”

“Yes, so that you should make money. And lots of it. Hashem doesn’t want you to just earn a living. Hashem wants you to earn as much money as you possibly can. He wants you to work from morning to night, long after you have earned more money than you, your children, and your children’s children can possibly spend. Hashem wants you to work as hard as you can to earn even more money than that. That is the great secret of Creation.”

And with those words, the angel leaves.

Wouldn’t you imagine that such a conversation would have a great effect on your future? Wouldn’t you imagine that it would influence your choice in schooling, in jobs, and in how you spend your time? It should determine every aspect of your life.

While it is unlikely that you will ever have a malach speak directly to you, and it is even less likely that that will be the message he will deliver to you, this question is the single greatest defining criterion that will shape your life. Why did Hashem create me? What am I doing here? What is my purpose in Creation?

Living without Direction

Yet one of the curious facts about the human race is that we don’t deal with this question. It is ignored, glossed over, just sort of skipped in the busyness that we call living. How is it possible that every human being hasn’t grappled with this question and come to a firm answer to it? How is it possible that the vast majority of the human race is satisfied with saying inane things like, “I guess there are some questions that we can never know the answer to,” or “One day, I will find an answer to the really big deal questions in life.”

How do you make decisions without an answer? How do you chart a life without an answer? How do you live without an answer?

A Yellow Belt in Five Styles

Probably the greatest cost to a person living life without a clear purpose is that he won’t reach a fraction of his potential. He will become like the young man who was a yellow belt in five styles of karate.

When this fellow was in grade school, he was fascinated with the martial arts, so he convinced his parents to let him study karate. He enrolled in a school and learned the stances, the kicks, and the punches. He was a diligent student, and after about a year of training, he was ready for his yellow belt test, the first rank. He took the test and passed.

Shortly after that, his family moved to another city, but the only karate school he could find there practiced a different style of karate. So he began again from the basics, with new stances, new kicks, and new punches. Again he progressed well, and again he took his yellow belt test — now in the new style — and passed.

Soon the time came for him to go away to high school. In that city, he again searched for a karate school, and the only one he could find taught a third style of karate. So he had to start from the basics with the new stances, new kicks, and new punches. And in this style as well, he was awarded a yellow belt. Midpoint through high school, he switched yeshivahs, and began the same process again.

At the end of five years of disciplined training, this young man had attained the rank of yellow belt in five styles — a beginner! Had he spent the same amount of time and effort in one style, he would have attained the rank of black belt — a master. The ironic part was that he applied himself and worked hard, but because his focus kept changing and he had to start from the beginning over and over again, his advancement was stymied. At the end, he remained a rank beginner.

Changing Currency

This story has a message. Most people spend their lives with changing priorities. That which is important at one stage becomes insignificant at another. To a young boy growing up in America, sports are king. That is what really counts in his world. But that doesn’t last; it is soon replaced by friends and being popular. As he matures, grades and what college he gets into become the measure of success. Within a short while, his career and making money are all that really matter. Yet this also passes, and shortly, he will trade away huge amounts of his wealth to build his reputation. As he nears retirement, his health and his future nursing home become his primary concern.

Throughout life, whatever is precious and coveted at one stage becomes devalued and traded away when new priorities take over. The currency is constantly changing. The result of this is that while someone may do well at each stage in life, the totality of what he accomplished may not amount to much. He became a yellow belt in five styles.

The Saddest Words Ever Spoken

Among the saddest words that a human can ever utter are: could’ve, would’ve, should’ve. I could’ve accomplished a lot more. I would’ve made better choices. I should’ve lived my life differently.

This is a sobering concept. What if you lived your entire life for the wrong purpose and with the wrong goals in mind? It’s not pleasant to wake up at eighty years of age and say, “According to what you’ve just said, I wasted my entire life.”

Even worse, what if those were conscious lifestyle choices that came at a great expense? What happens when a person sacrifices all that he has — his time and his family — only to find out later that the cause itself was false?

One of the realities of life is that you will work hard. No matter what you do, no matter how you live, from the day you arrive on this planet until the day that you leave, you will be very actively engaged in this thing we call living — working, planning, doing. The only question is: are the goals that you are working toward worth achieving?

Avrohom Avinu was commanded with a supreme test, and one of the greatest challenges ever presented to man:“Take your son, your only son, the son that you love…”

One has the right to ask, “What was so great about this act?” Even today we witness people who are willing to slaughter themselves – or their children – in the name of their beliefs, and we certainly don’t consider them great! Why is this act considered one of the ultimate accomplishments of man?

The answer to this question lies in understanding not so much what Avrohom did, but how he did it.

The father of the Jewish People

Avrohom lived to serve HASHEM. His every waking moment was devoted to spreading HASHEM’s name and bringing others to recognize their Creator. However, he knew that only through a distinct and separate people could the name of HASHEM be brought to its glory. His destiny and ultimate aspiration was to be the father of the Jewish nation.

Yet for many, many years that dream didn’t come true.

Avrohom was 100 years old when he had Yitzchak. He waited month after month, year after year, begging, beseeching, and imploring HASHEM for this son – but to no avail. Finally, in a most miraculous manner, at an age when both he and his wife couldn’t possibly parent a child, the Molochim told him the news: “Your greatest single ambition, to be the father of the Klal Yisroel, will come true through this child Yitzchak.”

Avrohom’s relationship with his son

From the moment that Yitzchak was born, he was the perfect child. Not only was he nearly identical to Avrohom in look and in nature, from the moment that he came to understanding, he went in the ways of his father. Avrohom had many students, but there was only one who was truly devoted to knowing and understanding the ways of his teacher. That was Yitzchak.

The bond of love and devotion that Avrohom felt towards his “only” son is hard to imagine. The nature of a Tzadik is to be kindly, compassionate, and giving. When a Tzadik connects to an almost equally perfect Tzadik, the bond of love and devotion between them is extremely powerful. For years, this relationship grew. It wasn’t until Yitzchak was 37 years old, in the prime of his life, that HASHEM tested Avrohom.

Avrohom wasn’t asked to kill his child; he was asked to bring him as an Olah, to perform all of the details that are done to a sacrifice in the Bais Hamikdash. Many a person has difficulty learning the particulars of bringing a Korbon when it is done to a sheep or a goat, but this wasn’t an animal. This was his son.

This refined, caring, loving Tzadik was asked to slaughter and then prepare his most beloved child and talmid as a sacrifice – not to sit by and allow it, not to witness it, but to do it with his own hands.

You would imagine that if such a person could actually muster the self-mastery to do this, it would be with a bitter and heavy heart.

Yet that isn’t how the Torah describes the events.

“And Avrohom got up early in the morning, hitched up his donkey,” and set off on his journey

Rashi quotes the Medrash that explains that this was out of character. Avrohom was an extremely wealthy and honored individual. He had hundreds of loyal students, and many, many slaves. Hitching up his donkey was not something that he normally did. It was done for him by a servant. Yet this time was different because “love blinds.” Avrohom was so enraptured with this great act, so caught up in the moment, that he got carried away and did something that he never would have done himself. He hitched up his own donkey.

The crescendo

With a calm demeanor and joy in his heart, Avrohom set out on a three-day expedition to accomplish this great Mitzvah. Along the way, Yitzchak discovered that he was to be the sacrifice. He said to his father, “Please bind me so that I don’t twitch and spoil the sacrifice.” A Korbon must be slaughtered in a particular manner. Any deviation and the sacrifice is invalid. Yitzchak was afraid that he might inadvertently move and spoil the process. Therefore he said, “Please bind me.” (Hence, the term “Akeidas Yitzchak,” the binding of Yitzchak.)

Avrohom did just that. He tied Yitzchak’s arms and legs behind him, put him on the Mizbeach, and raised up the knife to kill his son.

The Medrash tells us that Avrohom stood over Yitzchak, “With tears in his eyes and great joy in his heart.” The tears in his eyes were the tears of a father parting with his most beloved son, but there was joy in his heart because of the fantastic opportunity to show HASHEM that nothing, not even his most beloved son, was more precious to him than serving his Creator.

The act in perspective

And now the question becomes: how is it possible for a man to make the ultimate sacrifice in a manner that seems to transcend every emotional limitation?

Akeidas Yitzchak was a singular event that actualized the years and years of extraordinary perfection that represented Avraham Avinu’s life. Because he lived in this world, he felt real love for his child, but even that love was something he harnessed to show his greater love of HASHEM – the perfect balance of a man in complete control.

For more on this topic please listen to Shmuz #9 Akeidas Yitzchak – The Anatomy of a Nisayon

Imagine that you find yourself shipwrecked on a deserted island. You haven’t seen a soul in three days . . . or a piece of bread either for that matter. You are famished. Hungrier than you’ve ever been in your life, your every thought is on just finding something to eat. Anything, anything, to take away that emptiness inside your stomach. Suddenly, you spot a crumpled paper bag, sitting in the shade of a palm tree. You open it. Inside is a dry, crusty, six-month-old peanut butter sandwich.

You lace into this sandwich with such fervor that you feel almost as if you’re standing outside of yourself watching as you wolf it down. After swallowing every last crumb, you sit back to rest, no longer quite as hungry as before.

The Difference Between Pleasure and Passion

Let’s analyze this situation. There is no question that you ate that sandwich with great hunger — you had passion. However, would you call this one of the most pleasurable activities of your life? Do you think that for the rest of your days, you would look back fondly on the feeling of the dry bread as it scratched your throat? Or the acrid taste of the spoiled peanut butter going down?

This is an example of doing something with great appetite, but not deriving much pleasure. Pleasure is the amount of enjoyment that you receive while doing an activity. Passion is the desire, the pull you have to that activity. That peanut butter sandwich was eaten with great passion, but it gave very little pleasure. While this difference may sound obvious, it isn’t. And it is one of the keys to understanding what really drives us.

In our minds, we often mix the two concepts together as if to say, “If I have such a strong desire to do something, it must be because there is a lot of pleasure in it.” But that isn’t always the case.

Chemical / Alcohol Addiction

There are things that we desire that bring us little pleasure, and there are things that bring us great pleasure that we don’t instinctively desire.

Ask an addict — whether to alcohol, chemicals or whatever — to describe how much pleasure he receives from drinking or from drugs. Most likely, he will tell you that the first experiences were great:

“I got high, wow!” There was nothing like it! ”

But if you ask him now that he is hooked, now that he is a slave to the bottle or the pills, to describe the experience, it sounds much more out of Gehenom (purgatory) then out of Heaven.

“Being chained to the bottle.”

“Desperately needing to drink — no matter what the cost.”

“Knowing that the next drink might kill me, yet not being able to stop myself.”

While the addict may have started out motivated by the pleasure, the desire has become so powerful that it controls him, even when the activity no longer brings him pleasure. Not only aren’t addicts motivated by pleasure, they often find no enjoyment in it anymore. It leaves them empty and depressed, down and out — but they need it all the same.

This distinction between pleasure and passions becomes critical in understanding what pleasure really is and why it seems so difficult for man to find enjoyment. But to understand man’s relationship to pleasures, we need to take one more step in understanding the way that HASHEM made him.

Hedonists Are Bound to Fail

Did you ever hear the expression, “The average man thinks he is smarter than the average man”? It seems to be a quirk of human nature that people feel the rules of human nature apply to everyone — except me. Me, I am just. . . different.

So let’s assume that while I know that “there’s more to life than money,” that’s true for all those little people who don’t know how to spend their money. But me? I am way smarter than that. I know having money in the bank won’t make me happy. It’s knowing how to spend it that brings happiness. Just give me enough money, and I will be as happy as a lark.

Let’s take this a step further. Imagine that I get a chance to try it out. My greatest wish is granted — I win the lotto. But not just a lotto, I win the largest single payout in history of the US lottery: 365 million dollars in cash. Awesome joy! I made it. I have arrived. I am rich! Rich! RICH!

And so, since all that has been standing between me and some real happiness has been this lack of money thing, now that I have it, I intend to enjoy it! So I set out to have pleasure. But not a little bit of pleasure. Not some haphazard come-as-it-may pleasure, but real pleasure, heaps and heaps of it. Pleasures upon pleasures. As much downright pure pleasure as I can possibly cram in. Eat, drink and be merry for tomorrow we may die! Let’s party!

My Life of Pleasure

The first thing I do is buy myself a private island in the Pacific. What better place to enjoy life than there? I hire a team of butlers and maids and an entire dining room staff. An Italian chef for breakfast, Mediterranean cuisine for lunch, and for dinner nothing but the finest: my personal French chef.

And so, I set out on my pursuit of pleasure.

I plan breakfast for the first morning: Belgian waffles, delicately toasted, covered in Vermont maple syrup, topped with fresh-picked strawberries and hand-whipped cream. I’ll have orange juice flown in that morning from Brazil — all served by white-gloved waiters.

As I prepare for my feast, my anticipation couldn’t be higher. I mean, this is going to be great. Just wait till I taste those waffles. . . The fluffiness, the gentle flow of sweetness, the depth of flavor – Heaven! I can’t wait for the first bite. My mouth is watering just thinking about it.

And now I am there, the first morning of my pleasure excursion. I approach the table. My personal waiter pulls out the chair, and I sit down. The plate of food is brought in — covered of course, so that it arrives at exactly the temperature it came off the griddle — Heaven forefend for it to cool off while it is being brought out to me. The waiter sets it down, removes the cover, and. . . .

The first bite — wow! It is everything that I thought it would be. (Well, almost. . . I mean, they do taste very good. )

The second bite not far behind, as I concentrate on the aromas that waft through my palette, I focus on the balance of flavors, and textures.  Then the third bite, then the fourth. . . Then something happens. . . I find my mind wandering. I just start thinking about my day and everything else I have planned, and before I know it, I am almost finished the plate. Hey, what happened? . . . My waffles. . . the maple syrup…my personal chef. . . And I discover the first rule of pleasure:

The sizzle is better than the steak.

The First Rule of Pleasure

Did you ever notice that the restaurant ads show a thick slice of meat about to be put on the grill, then SZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ! The smoke goes up, and you can almost taste the meat. Why don’t they just show the cooked meat on the plate?

The answer is that one of the rules of marketing is: sell the sizzle, not the steak. Madison Avenue understands well that the anticipated pleasure is much greater than the actual pleasure.

Imagine how good it is going to be. Better than anything you have ever experienced. More delicious than anything you’ve ever tasted.

A funny thing happens when you actually bite into the dish. It isn’t that the steak isn’t good, and it isn’t that the sizzle isn’t real, it’s just that the anticipation was far greater than the pleasure. The sizzle is always better than the steak.

The buildup is great, the anticipation is powerful – but the pleasure never lives up to the promise. Every pleasure is over-promised and under-delivered. The pleasure is built up to be the biggest and best thing that man has ever seen. And while the first bite is pleasurable, that pleasure quickly fades. Because the hype is always greater than what is delivered.

I Will Not Be Deterred

But I am a diehard pleasure-seeker, and a little touch of reality isn’t going to put me off, so I continue on my journey. I finish my first helping, ask for a second and a third, and continue to enjoy a gala breakfast celebration.

Of course, no breakfast would be complete without dessert. Ah! A bit of Rocky Road, my private blend of ice cream, topped with hot Swiss chocolate and fresh whipped cream — only from Hereford cows, please; their cream is just so much thicker.

And I lash into this with same gusto. (Well, almost the same, because I am pretty full by now.) But this stuff is great; I mean, really great. The first spoon, the second, the third. . . And then I start slowing down as I simply run out of room. Hmmmmmm? And I suddenly discover the second rule of pleasure:

Every pleasure has a limit.

The Second Rule of Pleasure

No matter what the pleasure is, it lasts for a finite amount of time, and then you are forced to stop. You can eat for thirty minutes, an hour, maybe even two hours, but then you are stuffed — there is just no more room.

Forget the hype, forget the buildup, and forget the sizzle being better than the steak. Let’s take the pleasure itself. Assuming that it really is a deep, rich, memorable experience, how long does it last? No matter how great the pleasure is, if you count the actual time that you had “pleasure,” you will find it to be very short, and then it is done.

Breakfast might last for an hour, but the actual time of intense and profound pleasure, when you were concentrating and taking in all the flavors and aromas, was probably only ten minutes if that long. Lunch might stretch out over an hour and a half, but the actual time of unique, dramatic eating enjoyment won’t be much more 20 minutes. If we throw in a candle-lit dinner set against the ocean backdrop, assuming that you aren’t distracted by the company, the conversation, your own inner chatter, or whatever else pulls at you at that moment, you might add another twenty minutes. So we have racked up less than an hour of intense powerful pleasure.

And that is the second rule of pleasure: Every pleasure has it limit. Ten minutes, twenty minutes, maybe an hour — then it is done.

I Am Not Giving Up

But I am not giving up that quickly, I waited all these years to have some real pleasure, and I am determined to get it! But it’s time now to settle in for the evening. After all, this pursuit of pleasure thing is not to be taken lightly: I need my rest. If I miss even an hour or two from my normal night’s sleep, I might wake up cranky and tired and not able to enjoy much of anything. So, early to bed for me.

I wake up the next morning fresh and invigorated, ready to take on every pleasure imaginable. I stretch my arms as this deep sense of satisfaction and fulfillment fills me as I contemplate a meaningful and productive day of pleasure-seeking ahead of me. (Well, not quite. I do feel a bit empty and shallow. . . but nothing will stop me in the relentless pursuit of pleasure, so I set about my day.)

I sit down to breakfast on day two, ready to soak it all in. My white-gloved maître d’ asks, “What will be your pleasure, sir?”

“Those waffles yesterday were truly amazing,” I tell him. “Let’s try them again, together with some nice white wine.”

He brings them out, and they look as glorious as they did yesterday. The aroma, the crispiness, the tender inside — glorious. But when I bite into them something is. . . something is. . . how do I say this. . . I mean. . . they’re different. . . They just don’t taste the same as they did yesterday. I mean, they still taste good and all. . . but there is something missing. . .

And I have discovered the third rule of pleasure:

The first time is the best time, but there is only one first time.

The Third Rule of Pleasure

Have you ever gone to a new restaurant and had an amazing meal? The food was fantastic, the ambiance was perfect, the presentation glorious — the balance of foods, flavor and aroma, an experience to remember. What happens when you go back the next time? Likely it’s still good, maybe even very good, but never quite like the first time.

Whether it is the first time that you drove a car or the first time that you owned a home, the first time you make a big sale or the first time your child looked up and smiled at you — there is nothing like the first time. After that, it just sort of loses its kick. When a teenager first gets his driver’s license, he will do anything to get behind the wheel of a car. The feeling of independence and power is exhilarating. Ask a person who has been driving for twenty years to describe his drive to work that morning. I doubt he will describe his fight through rush hour traffic as an experience worthy of poetry.

And that is the third rule of pleasure: The first time is the best time, but there is only one first time.

I Am Not Giving Up Yet!

To be honest, by this point, this pursuit of pleasures thing is starting to wear a bit thin, but my entire life, all that I have asked for is some good powerful pleasure – I’m not giving up now that I am finally here! If eating can’t do it for me, then I will find other ways.

So, off I go to a carefree life of pleasures and enjoyment. First to the Mercedes dealership to buy a string of cars in every color of the rainbow. Next off to Africa for a hot air balloon ride over the Serengeti. Then to Paris to go bungee cord jumping off the Eiffel Tower. No expense is too great, no distance too far — the absolute pursuit of pleasure is my goal.

And I must admit, it is great! Wow! The rush of adrenaline as I looked down and watched a rhinoceros charging out of the undergrowth! (Well, it didn’t  really charge, but it did sort of walk, and I did have to hover for two hours in 115 degree heat till it finally decided to move.) That sense of excitement and exhilaration as I stared down 1,000 feet to the concrete of the French street below! (Terror might be a better word, but I said to myself, “Yes, now this is truly living.”)

But when it is all over and I come back from my exotic and far-flung adventures, I discover the fourth rule of pleasure:

I had a good time.

The Fourth Rule of Pleasure

Ask someone to describe a pleasurable experience, maybe a week-long cruise to the Bahamas, a ski trip to the Swiss Alps, and carefully study their description:

“Wow, it was amazing.”

“I had such a great time.”

“I enjoyed it so much.”

Please note that all of these are in the past tense, as in:

“Wow, it was amazing.”

“I had such a great time.”

“I enjoyed it so much.”

And so we come to the fourth rule of pleasure: Once the pleasure is had, it is gone.

Used up. No more. Nothing left but memories. I am left as I was before the pleasure — unchanged.

Universal Laws of Pleasure

The interesting part is that these rules show themselves in every culture and every time period. They seem to be an iron law of man’s stay on the planet. All pleasures are limited and passing. They look so alluring, so tempting. It really seems that my life will be different, but the physical pleasures pass and I am left. . . the same.

What Are We Up To?

Now, as they say, the plot thickens. It is clear that HASHEM wants us to enjoy life, as He created many, many pleasures, and gave us the ability to benefit from them. He also gave us the drive to seek them. Yet, for some reason all pleasures seem to be so limited, so difficult to attain, and so passing. Does He want us to enjoy them or not? If He doesn’t want us to benefit from all of these features, why put them there in the first place? If He does want us to enjoy them, why is it so difficult?

Today, when we go on vacation and “rough it” by putting the whole family – parents and two kids – in one motel room, it’s cute and cozy. . . for an evening. But that was the amount of space people lived in with all of their belongings, all of the time. That was home. On floors made of dirt, with furniture consisting of the barest table and a few chairs, with wood-burning fireplaces that had to be stocked by chopping trees – they lived. Their walls were filled with cracks that let in the cold air of winter, but held in the sweltering heat of summer. They drove horses to the market and bathed only on special occasions — without phones, without TV, without running water or electricity, people lived. Regular people. Our people. Our grandparents and great-grandparents lived.

We aren’t any different than they were. They walked, ate, slept, and breathed as we do. They weren’t born on a different planet, and they didn’t live a thousand years ago. Yet their lives were so different from ours that it is difficult for us to even imagine ourselves in that setting.

Luxuries of Yesteryear

My great aunt, Tanta Perel, came over from Poland before my grandmother. When my grandmother arrived in America and visited Tanta Perel for the first time, Tanta Perel told her in an excited voice, “You must see this! You won’t believe your eyes! Our building has a bathroom in the apartment itself!” It was a standard of luxury beyond what they could have imagined.

While it may sound like ancient history to us, it wasn’t that long ago that people used outhouses. In the freezing cold of winter, they would don a coat and go out to the back where they found a bare hut. In that world, there were no such things as cars and planes and buses. There were no paved roads and highways. If you had somewhere to go, you got into a horse-drawn wagon and bumped along a stone path for hours until your insides wanted to come out.

Heat was a thing for the rich. My father had a friend who went to yeshiva in a remote part of Eastern Europe. This man had a handy way of telling whether it was a cold morning. He would leave a vessel filled with water next to his bed each night so that he could wash as soon as he woke up in the morning. Before washing, he would look into the vessel. If it had iced over, he knew it was a cold day!

I want to remind you that water doesn’t turn to ice at 58 degrees. And not at 48 either. He slept in the very room that the water froze in! These days, we set our thermostats to a comfy 72, and if it goes below 62, someone will complain, “Hey, it’s freezing in here!” If your furnace goes out, you immediately call the heating company — it’s an emergency! And if they say, “We’ll have a technician come out to look at it in the morning,” you’ll go to a friend’s house for the night. “It’s 50 degrees in my house! How can anyone survive in that kind of cold!?” Yet people did survive – people who were no different than you or me, and at temperatures well below 50 degrees.

We Are So Wealthy

The comforts and material possessions that we take for granted today were unimaginable a few generations ago. If you walk down an aisle in Wal-Mart, everything you see is available to be had – in whatever color, shape and texture you like. And for the most part, we have the money to buy it.

To give you an illustration, I once gave a talk on this topic, and after the lecture, a woman came over to tell me a story. She was friendly with a new immigrant, a Russian woman. She took her adopted friend on their first outing to a large supermarket. When the Russian woman walked into the produce section and saw the abundance and plenty on display, she was so overcome with emotion that she fainted. In all of her years, she had never seen so much food so readily available. During the Communist regime, it was considered a regular part of the day to wait for hours on food lines. Nowadays, if we are held up for ten minutes at the checkout counter, we are already looking for a new supermarket.

Here is another example. If you own a house built before World War II, you will probably notice that no matter how large it is, there never seems to be enough closet space. The home might have sizable rooms, plenty of bedrooms and lots of living space, but tiny, undersized closets. Why is that? Why didn’t they build closets to match the size of the house?

It’s because the house was built for people living in those times. No one then would dream that we would own the amount of clothing that we do now. I spoke to a woman who grew up in the 1930’s, and she told me she had two dresses: one for weekdays and one for Shabbos. She wasn’t poor; she came from a typical home. That was considered normal. So they built  homes back then with closets that were ample for the wardrobes of those times.

Our Clothing

Now we have racks and racks of clothing: suits, shirts, slacks, sweaters, winter coats, summer jackets, light fall coats, ties, belts, pocketbooks, and matching accessories, not to mention shoes. My Rebbe, Rabbi A. H. Lebowitz, ZT’L, grew up in America in the 1920’s. When he was a young boy, he wore a hole in the bottom of the one pair of shoes he owned. He didn’t have the heart to ask his father for the twenty-five cents that it would cost to have new soles put on. So he figured out his own solution. He put a piece of cardboard inside the shoe so that his socks wouldn’t rub out on the concrete when he walked. It worked well until the first rainy day. He walked outside and right into a puddle – splash! His new soles were gone.

Do we know anyone today who doesn’t own a number of pairs of shoes? In black, blue, and brown – some for casual wear, others for dress. Gotta have at least one pair for running, another for basketball, and still others for bowling. Do you play golf? Of course, only an entirely separate wardrobe is fitting. And Heaven forefend to play tennis in basketball shoes!

Compared to Other Times

If we were to describe our wealth to people of a different generation, I don’t think they would believe us. Kings in prior times didn’t enjoy the luxuries that we do. If you look at portraits of King George, monarch of England before the Revolutionary War, you’ll see him sitting on his throne in the comfort of his palace wearing layer upon layer of robes, topped off by a fur covering. Did you ever wonder why he was wearing all of those layers? The reason is that it was mighty cold in the king’s palace! The King of England with all of his wealth had to stay warm by huddling up to a smoky fireplace that heated up only the part of his body that was facing it, not the rest of him that was facing the other way. His Highness had to walk through dimly lit, dank hallways at night. He had to sleep on a mattress of stuffed feathers. (Keep in mind, there were no chiropractors around to care for his aching back as he sunk down into 36 inches of duck feathers.) And when his brother, the Duke, was getting married, traveling to the wedding meant enduring a backbreaking carriage ride for the better part of a week. The crown jewels couldn’t buy him the luxuries that we take for granted today.

The reality is that we are wealthy beyond belief. We enjoy comforts and abundance that are historically unprecedented. And it’s not just the extremely affluent. The average tax-paying citizen of today lives in opulence and splendor that previous generations couldn’t dream about.

And this is before we discuss the advances of technology that we enjoy. A friend of mine was flying into NYC, and after touching down, the plane stopped at a distance from the terminal. The flight attendant announced that there would be a slight delay as they waited for the walkway to be brought over. The passengers watched as a technician maneuvered a mobile gangplank into place. The person sitting next to my friend remarked, “Look at the wonders of technology. They even have moving walkways!”

My friend was flabbergasted. They had just been traveling 500 miles an hour at an altitude of 32,000 feet. No cables, no wires – flying in the air. And this person was astonished by a mobile gangplank! What happened to amazement that man has so mastered the laws of gravity that he can fly? What happened to the astonishment of travelling across the world? That’s yesterday’s news. We are used to that. And so we take it for granted. But in reality the luxuries that we enjoy due to technological advances are fantastic: from iPods to e-mail, from packaged goods to microwaves, from laptop computers to a GPS.

We Have Arrived – Are We Happy?

In short, we are wealthy beyond belief. We have riches that far, far exceed our needs. As a society, as a nation, and as individuals, we enjoy prosperity and abundance. We benefit from creature comforts that were unthinkable a generation ago. Everything is so readily available, so accessible, so easy. And so I have one question: now that we have so much, are we happy?

For centuries, all that man desired was freedom from tyranny and a homeland where he could enjoy liberty and safety. Armies went to war for it, entire generations sacrificed all that they had for it, and we now have it. We are there. We have finally arrived. Living in a free society with almost unlimited opportunity, we are easily able to find sustenance and enjoy unheard of wealth; we have it all. But are we happy? Now that we are there, is it all that we thought it was? Is this the dream that we were seeking? Are we any happier today than our ancestors in previous generations?

Look for the new Shmuz on Life Book available soon at your local Sefarim store, or at the Shmuz.com.

When Avrohom Avinu was informed that his nephew, Lot, was captured, against all odds and in a most courageous manner, he waged war against the combined armies of the four kings. Miraculously, he was victorious and freed Lot.

After these events, HASHEM appeared to Avrohom and said, “Do not fear; your reward is great.” Rashi explains that Avrohom was afraid that since this great miracle had been done for him, he had used up all of his merits and had no reward waiting for him in the World to Come. HASHEM allayed those fears by saying, “Everything that I have done for you will not cost you. Do not fear; your reward is great.”

This Rashi is very difficult to understand. How is it possible that a man as great Avrohom could have thought that he used up all of his reward? After years and years of serving HASHEM, surely the reward waiting for him was phenomenal.

The answer to this is based on viewing life from a different vantage point.
Pesach in Arizona

Imagine that your father-in-law invites you to join him for Pesach in Sedona, Arizona. This is the ultimate Pesach extravaganza. No expense is spared; the guests are showered with every imaginable luxury and amenity. A five-star hotel, French chefs, an 18-hole golf course on premises – the best of the best. You graciously accept and are ready to have the time of your life. But as it turns out, by the time Pesach comes around, things at work aren’t going well, and lately you’ve been fighting with your wife, as a result, you’re in the worst mood you’ve ever been in. For the nine days that you are there, you barely leave your hotel room.

When the vacation is over, your father-in-law approaches the hotel manager, and says, “My son-in-law hardly ate the entire time he was here. He didn’t come to a single gala Kiddush. He didn’t use the golf course. Not once did he step foot in the spa. Normally, I am not the type to complain. But I just can’t see paying the regular rate, so I’ve decided to pay half the bill, and expect you to waive the other half.”

How do you think the hotel representative would respond?
Earth: A Five Star Hotel

This planet that we occupy is a five-star hotel. We have every imaginable pleasure and amenity available to us. We enjoy majestic sights and experiences that constantly surround us. From magnificent floral scenes to exotic sea life, from the glory of the night sky to the clear aqua green of the ocean, from a flower in bloom to the plumage of a jungle parrot, all of the pomp and ceremony of a sunrise – a world created in Technicolor.

And more than that, we were given the tools with which to enjoy it. We have legs with which to walk and hands with which to hold. We have ears, a tongue, a nose, and fingers that bring us an astounding array of pleasures from the world around us. We have foods that explode with a burst of different flavors, aromas, textures, and colors. We are surrounded by untold pleasures and riches.

But more than anything, we have been granted the extraordinary privilege called life. We were given this golden opportunity to shape ourselves into what we can be for eternity. Is there any way to measure the value of life? Is it worth a million dollars? Ten million? A hundred billion? Is it even possible to put a value on our existence?

Whether we recognize it for its extraordinary value or not, we are the recipients of an unfathomable amount of good. And as such, we owe. From the moment that we are born, the clock starts ticking and the debt begins. For every breath that we breathe, for every pleasure we enjoy, for every moment of our being, the bill increases. We owe our Creator for that which He has given us.
No Free Lunch

Somehow, we assume that all of the pleasures of this world are free – on the house. I certainly won’t be charged for them. However, the Chovos Ha’Levovos explains that in reality, we do owe for them. They were given to us by HASHEM, and as a result we owe for them.

For this reason, Avrohom was afraid. He made a calculation based on what he received from HASHEM versus what he had given in return, and he came out only slightly ahead. “Now that HASHEM has brought this great miracle for me,” he thought, “what possible reward do I have left? Surely it has been all used up, and there is nothing left for me in the World to Come.”

Avrohom Avinu wasn’t out of touch with reality. Quite the opposite, he was highly attuned to a part of the calculation that we rarely think about—we are not entitled to anything. HASHEM didn’t have to create us. HASHEM isn’t obligated to shower us with good. Everything that HASHEM gives to us is because He is wants to share of His good with us. Because of this, we owe a debt to HASHEM that can never be repaid.

This perspective should be a major driving force in our serving HASHEM – prompting us to attempt as much as we can to pay back the astounding good that HASHEM constantly bestows upon us.

HASHEM appeared to Noach and told him that the world had turned to wicked ways, and it was to be destroyed by a deluge. HASHEM commanded Noach to build a Tayah so that he and his family would be saved.

The Torah lays out the dimensions of the Ark in exact detail: the length, the height, the width, and the material it was to be made from. The commentaries ask: why do we need to know the exact dimension of the Ark that Noach built?

All the animals couldn’t possibly fit into the Tayvah

Rabbenu Bachya answers that the Torah delineated the size of the Tayvah to teach us a lesson. Assuming that an amah is a measurement of approximately two feet, the entire construction was not large: 600 feet long, 100 feet wide and 60 feet tall. When we put those dimensions into perspective, it becomes obvious that it would not be possible for all of the animals in the world to fit into such a small area.

Noach was commanded to gather up every species of living creature – from the gorillas swinging in the trees to the cows eating the grass, from the birds flying in the sky to the reptiles creeping on the ground each was to be represented on the Tayvah. So many animals could not possibly fit into so small a craft. Even fifty such Tayvahs couldn’t house all the animals in existence, let alone the food and supplies needed to support them for almost a year’s time. 

And so, Rabbenu Bachya explains that we are being taught a significant concept: Man must act in the “Derech HaTeveh,” the ways of the world. Man is commanded to do that which is in his power, and only when he has exhausted all his means, is he allowed to rely on a miracle. Noach couldn’t possibly have built a vessel large enough to house all living creatures. Yet he was commanded to do as much as he could, and then rely on the miracle to fill in the rest.

Operating principle in our lives

This concept is the operating principle for our lives. We are obligated to take this world very seriously, all the while knowing that HASHEM is the One who controls everything. We are obligated to work very diligently at earning a living, knowing that the exact amount of money we are to make that year was set on Rosh Hashanah. We are obligated to seek out medical help – not just any doctor, but the best that is available to us – all the while knowing that our health and well-being are completely in HASHEM’s hands.

Our Hishtadlus (our efforts) and our Bitachon (our trust in HASHEM) have to be balanced. A person must use the Derech HaTevah, acting as if my efforts will determine the outcome, all the while knowing that everything is entirely controlled by HASHEM.

But finding the balance between proper Hishtadlus and Bitachon is very difficult. Invariably, we either put too much stock in our efforts, our business acumen, and our abilities to get things done… or we act irresponsibly in our Hishtadlus, saying, “HASHEM will provide,” even though we haven’t put in adequate effort. The proper balance can be better understood with a Moshol.

Walking the tightrope

When the tightrope walk was first introduced to the circus, it was an exciting act to watch. A highly skilled acrobat would perform devilishly frightening dance steps while walking on a thin wire suspended high up in the air. However, everyone knew that the danger was limited. Even if the performer slipped, there was always a safety net below to catch him.

Somewhere in course of circus history, the net was eliminated. Now, the acrobat was asked to walk the same distance and perform the same feats, but with one distinction: if he were to fall, there would be nothing there to catch him.

Imagine the electricity in the air the first time that act was performed! There was the tight rope walker, doing the same act that he’d performed thousands of times before, but now one slip, one misstep, and he’d fall to his death on the concrete below. No matter how many times he’d walked the high wire before, this time was different. He was galvanized by the excitement, exhilarated by the danger.

That is an apt parable to our Hishtadlus. We have to go about life like that tightrope walker, taking our efforts very seriously, and acting as if the outcome is completely dependent upon them. Our attitude has to be, “If I don’t put in the adequate exertion I will fail and fall to the concrete below.” All the while, though, we must know that there is a safety net. HASHEM is there to help and support us, and even more, HASHEM completely directs every action in our lives. This is the proper balance that we must strike between putting in our own efforts and trusting in HASHEM’s close involvement.

For more on this topic please listen to Shmuz #51 -  Bitachon and Hishtadlus – Finding the Balance

Rashi quotes the Gemarah that calls Adom a Kofi Tov, one who denies the good. The Gemarah explains that this is a trait that has plagued mankind from that moment. Instead of appreciating the good, man has continued to deny the very good that is given to him over and over again.

Adom’s claim was logical

The difficulty with this Rashi is that it doesn’t seem that Adom was guilty of denying the good. HASHEM appeared to him and he felt trapped, caught red-handed. The correct action on his part would have been to admit his guilt and beg for forgiveness. That isn’t what he did. Instead, he engaged in small minded, shifting of the blame. However, there was a logic to it. “Because she was given to me as a helpmate, I relied on her and trusted her.” That fact does mitigate his guilt. After all, no one less than the Creator of the heavens and the earth, gave him this woman as an aide. Surely he could trust HASHEM’s choice.

Adom was guilty of not owning up to his responsibility for the act Maybe he was guilty of being dishonest. He just wasn’t courageous enough to admit that he did wrong. But his sin wasn’t one of not appreciating the good.

Appreciating our great wealth

The answer to this question lies in understanding a different perspective. The Chovos Ha’Levovos gives a parable. Imagine a man who becomes blind at age 35. For the next ten years, he does his best to reconstruct his life, but now without sight. Being a fighter, he struggles to create a productive life for himself. One day, his doctor informs him of an experimental procedure that, if successful, would enable him to see again. He is both frightened and exuberant. If it works he regains his sight; if it fails, he might die.

He gathers together his family to talk it over. After much debate he announces, “I am going ahead with it.” The operation is scheduled. The long-awaited day arrives. Paralyzed with dread, he is wheeled towards the operating room. Given sedatives, he sleeps through the 10-hour operation.

When he wakes up, the first thought on his mind is to open his eyes. He prepares himself for the moment. He will now find out how he will spend the rest of his life. With his family gathered around, with the doctors and nurses at his side, the surgeon begins removing the gauze. The first bandage is off, now the second. The surgeon says, “Open your eyes.” He does. And he sees!

For the first time in ten years, he looks out and experiences the sights of this world – and he is struck by it all. Struck by the brilliance of colors and shapes; moved by the beauty and magnificence of all that is now in front of him. He looks out the window and sees a meadow covered with beautiful, green grass. He sees flowers in full bloom. He looks up and sees a clear, blue sky. He sees people, the faces of loved ones that had only been images in his mind – the sight of his own children whom he hasn’t seen in years. Tears well in his eyes, as he speaks, “Doctor, what can I say? What can I ever do to repay you for what you have given me? This magnificent gift of sight! Thank you!”

This emotion, this extreme joy and sense of appreciation, is something that we should feel regularly. The feeling of elation that man felt when he regained his sight is something that we can feel on a daily basis if we go through the process of training ourselves to feel it. We have this most precious, unparalleled gift called sight, and it is something that we are supposed to stop and think about – not once in a lifetime, not even once a year, but every day. A part of our spiritual growth is learning to appreciate the gifts that we have. One of the blessings we say every morning thanks HASHEM for this most wonderful gift of sight. It was meant to be said with an outpouring of emotion.

We humans are a curious breed. We can have treasures for years, not once thinking of the wealth that we have been given; not once stopping to appreciate them. Not taking a moment to be thankful for them, until something happens, and we lose that gift. Then, it is “HASHEM , why me? Of all the occupants of the planet why did you pick me?” Till then there wasn’t a moment of reflection. Not one thank you. Not even a recognition that it was a gift. Now that it is gone the complaints find their home.

We fail to see the good

The reason that we humans don’t appreciate the good is because we fail to recognize it. It isn’t a problem with appreciation; it is a problem of recognition. By nature we are very appreciative. “If I had any gift, if anyone were to ever do anything for me, I would be the most appreciative person in the world. The problem is that I have nothing. No one ever does anything for me.”  

This seems to be the answer to Adom. On some level, he did not recognize the great good that HASHEM had given him in “that woman,” his helpmate. Had he fully recognized the good, he would have felt an overwhelming sense of appreciation, which would have prevented him from saying the words, “That woman that you gave to help me….” Those words came out because to some extent, he failed to recognize how good she was for him, and therefore he was able to blame her. Had he been fully cognizant of the good, the natural sense of appreciation would have prevented him from making such a statement.

Improving our lives 

This concept has great ramifications in our lives. Our service to HASHEM should be powered by a tremendous sense of appreciation for the good bestowed upon us. Many of our interpersonal relationships are dramatically weakened because we fail to remember the great good that has been bestowed upon us – by our parents, by our spouses. Ultimately, our lives become so much richer and more enjoyable when we train ourselves to focus on and recognize the good. Our natural sense of appreciation and a desire to pay back the good then wells up within our hearts.

The solution is to take stock, to compare ourselves to others less fortunate, and to recognize the blessings and the good given to us. Once we do that, our natural sense of appreciation flows from our hearts and changes the way we think and act. 

For more on this topic please listen to Shmuz #148 Rich, Richer, Richest – How to be Wealthy , and Shmuz #177

Rashi quotes the Gemarah that calls Adom a Kofi Tov, one who denies the good. The Gemarah explains that this is a trait that has plagued mankind from that moment. Instead of appreciating the good, man has continued to deny the very good that is given to him over and over again.

Adom’s Claim Was Logical

 The difficulty with this Rashi is that it doesn’t seem that Adom was guilty of denying the good. HASHEM appeared to him and he felt trapped, caught red-handed. The correct action on his part would have been to admit his guilt and beg for forgiveness. That isn’t what he did. Instead, he engaged in small minded, shifting of the blame. However, there was a logic to it. “Because she was given to me as a helpmate, I relied on her and trusted her.” That fact does mitigate his guilt. After all, no one less than the Creator of the heavens and the earth, gave him this woman as an aide. Surely he could trust HASHEM’s choice.

Adom was guilty of not owning up to his responsibility for the act Maybe he was guilty of being dishonest. He just wasn’t courageous enough to admit that he did wrong. But his sin wasn’t one of not appreciating the good.

Appreciating Our Great Wealth

The answer to this question lies in understanding a different perspective. The Chovos Ha’Levovos gives a parable. Imagine a man who becomes blind at age 35. For the next ten years, he does his best to reconstruct his life, but now without sight. Being a fighter, he struggles to create a productive life for himself. One day, his doctor informs him of an experimental procedure that, if successful, would enable him to see again. He is both frightened and exuberant. If it works he regains his sight; if it fails, he might die.

He gathers together his family to talk it over. After much debate he announces, “I am going ahead with it.” The operation is scheduled. The long-awaited day arrives. Paralyzed with dread, he is wheeled towards the operating room. Given sedatives, he sleeps through the 10-hour operation.

When he wakes up, the first thought on his mind is to open his eyes. He prepares himself for the moment. He will now find out

Adom’s problem wasn’t in not recognizing the good.

how he will spend the rest of his life. With his family gathered around, with the doctors and nurses at his side, the surgeon begins removing the gauze. The first bandage is off, now the second. The surgeon says, “Open your eyes.” He does. And he sees!

 For the first time in ten years, he looks out and experiences the sights of this world – and he is struck by it all. Struck by the brilliance of colors and shapes; moved by the beauty and magnificence of all that is now in front of him. He looks out the window and sees a meadow covered with beautiful, green grass. He sees flowers in full bloom. He looks up and sees a clear, blue sky. He sees people, the faces of loved ones that had only been images in his mind – the sight of his own children whom he hasn’t seen in years. Tears well in his eyes, as he speaks, “Doctor, what can I say? What can I ever do to repay you for what you have given me? This magnificent gift of sight! Thank you!”

This emotion, this extreme joy and sense of appreciation, is something that we should feel regularly. The feeling of elation that man felt when he regained his sight is something that we can feel on a daily basis if we go through the process of training ourselves to feel it. We have this most precious, unparalleled gift called sight, and it is something that we are supposed to stop and think about – not once in a lifetime, not even once a year, but every day. A part of our spiritual growth is learning to appreciate of emotion.

We humans are a curious breed. We can have treasures for years, not once thinking of the wealth that we have been given; not once stopping to appreciate them. Not taking a moment to be thankful for them, until something happens, and we lose that gift. Then, it is “HASHEM , why me? Of all the occupants of the planet why did you pick me?” Till then there wasn’t a moment of reflection. Not one thank you. Not even a recognition that it was a gift. Now that it is gone the complaints find their home.

We Fail To See The Good

The reason that we don’t appreciate the good is because we fail to recognize it. It isn’t a problem with appreciation; it is a problem of recognition. By nature we are very appreciative. “If I had any gift, if anyone were to ever do anything for me, I would be the most appreciative person in the world. The problem is that I have nothing. No one ever does anything for me.”

This seems to be the answer to Adom. On some level, he did not recognize the great good that HASHEM had given him in “that woman,” his helpmate. Had he fully recognized the good, he would have felt an overwhelming sense of appreciation, which would have prevented him from saying the words, “That woman that you gave to help me….” Those words came out because to some extent, he failed to recognize how good she was for him, and therefore he was able to blame her. Had he been fully cognizant of the good, the natural sense of appreciation would have prevented him from making such a statement. 

Improving Our Lives

This concept has great ramifications in our lives. Our service to HASHEM should be powered by a tremendous sense of appreciation for the good bestowed upon us. Many of our interpersonal relationships are dramatically weakened because we fail to remember the great good that has been bestowed upon us – by our parents, by our spouses. Ultimately, our lives become so much richer and more enjoyable when we train ourselves to focus on and recognize the good. Our natural sense of appreciation and a desire to pay back the good then wells up within our hearts.

The solution is to take stock, to compare ourselves to others less fortunate, and to recognize the blessings and the good given to us. Once we do that, our natural sense of appreciation flows from our hearts and changes the way we think and act.

Imagine that you find yourself in a large, nicely carpeted room. There are dark drapes on the wall. The lights are muted; the mood is somber. In the front, on the podium are two candles burning. Gathered are two hundred of your closest friends and relatives; everyone is seated and listening attentively. All eyes are focused on the front of the room, and there you are, right in front of everyone – lying in a box. Dead as a doornail. Hello, this is your funeral.

You look around the room, and you see people you haven’t seen in years. There’s your Aunt Miriam. There’s Moshe, your best friend from high school. You want to run over and hug him. In the front row sits your brother. You haven’t spoken to him in five years. You want to tell him that you are so sorry for all of those harsh words that you spoke to each other. But you can’t. You can’t move. You can’t speak. You see your cousin Rochel, who you grew up with. She looks terrible; she’s bawling away. You want to comfort her and tell her it’s not so bad. “Come on, Rochel. It happens to all of us.”

You wonder, “Is this real? How can it be? It doesn’t make sense. I can think and see. I know that everyone is in the room. I can even hear them. I must be alive! It must be a mistake. Maybe it’s just a dream. That’s it. Of course. A nightmare. And when I wake up in the morning, it will all be gone.”

The speakers get up and say all sorts of nice things about you. Memories of you when you were younger. Good things that you did in your lifetime. Your Rabbi gets up and sings your praises. “Oh, Rabbi,” you want to say, “that is so sweet of you. But, really, no need, no need.” You realize, of course, this can’t be happening. Not to you. Not in this lifetime anyway. You try to call out, “I want to thank you all for coming. It’s been really nice to get together again, but now it’s time for all of us to go back home. OK?” But no words come out of your mouth. Your lips are blue. Your hands are cold.

The unsettling part is that you are alert. You are conscious, but locked in. And. . . you are scared. Terrified is a better word. Somewhere in the back of your mind, you always knew this moment would come, but not so soon. Not now. I’m not ready. Not yet.

In that one electrifying moment, you come to the realization that life has an end. You finally get it. You finally understand that you were here on this planet for a few short years. You had a mission and a goal, with a particular function to accomplish, and now it is over. You’re dead. You want to scream out, “Stop! This can’t be happening. Stop!”

The ceremony ends. Your friends, the people in your life, come forward. They gather around the coffin, each one putting a shoulder under it. They lift it up. You hear them say, “He was so young.” “What a tragedy.” “I can’t believe it.” They carry you out of the funeral home. The crowd – their faces ashen – moves along into the street. They walk till they get to the back of the hearse. Someone opens the door. It swings out slowly, as if it has all the time in the world. They slide the casket – your casket – into the back. Someone comes forward and screws in a metal plate to hold it in place. The crowd begins to scatter. They get into their cars.

You hear the engine start. The hearse pulls out. Through every bump and twist of the road, you are there. Present. Alert. Aware. You see the highway approaching. The highway you drove on a thousand times. It is so bright and vivid. The sun is shining. It’s a beautiful day. “What a nice day for a funeral,” you think. But wait. What do you mean? How can this be? And the hearse drives on.

After what seems like an eternity, the hearse arrives at the cemetery. It stops. People get out of their cars. They start to gather. Someone opens the back of the hearse. You don’t recognize him; he is wearing a worn black suit and thin black tie. He looks like he’s done this many times before. He says to the others “Reach in and slide the coffin out.” Your old business partner steps forward. “Hey, where are you taking me?” you want to scream out.

They slowly pull your casket out of the back. A number of the men take hold of it and start to walk. Slowly. Deliberately. You see your kids. Crying. Trembling. You hear the words, “Abba! Abba!” You want to hug them, but you can’t. You want to cry, but you can’t.

They carry you to an open grave. You look in. It seems very, very deep. “What are you guys going to do now?” you want to shout. They set the casket down on two wood pieces that lay across the deep hole in the grave. They pull the wood away. All that is holding you up are two cloth bands. Men gather on each side and grab the bands. Slowly, they start to lower you into the ground. And it hits you. At that moment, the truth comes crashing through. My life. It’s over. My life is over! All that I have known it to be – all that I have come to expect – life itself is over. It wasn’t supposed to end. Not really. Certainly not like this.

And now the real panic begins. “Stop! What are you doing? This can’t be real. Stop it! I am alive! What are you doing? Don’t put me in there. I won’t be able to get out! Stop. How am I going to breathe in there? Stop! Stop! Stop!” But they don’t stop. They continue to lower you deeper and deeper in. You can no longer see their faces. “Stop. Help! Someone. Please. Please make them stop!” Your mind races through a thousand thoughts. “How can this be? Life. Life itself. What is happening?” You feel a jolt as your casket hits bottom.

Someone picks up a shovel, turns the spade part backwards, and begins dropping dirt. “What are you doing?!” You try to scream. You hear the first dropping of dirt on the casket. “Stop!” Then another. The sound is deafening. “This wasn’t supposed to happen. Not to me. Not yet!” The next dropping hits, the sound is even louder. “Isn’t anyone going to make them stop?! Please! Help! Someone, make them stop!” Again and again, the dirt drops down and it starts to form a layer. “Stop! I am still here. Stop! Stop! Stop!” But it continues. More dirt, and more dirt, until a layer forms; a complete layer covers your casket. Then it happens.

That moment that you ran from. That one moment that you kept pushing away – not this year. Not now. You knew it had to happen at some point. It was only a matter of time. Maybe later. Some other time. Now is that other time. It finally happens. You and your body separate. You go up and your body is left behind in the dirt.

A new wave of terror sweeps over you as one thought occupies your entire being: WHAT COMES NEXT?

The beauty of being alive is that as long as there is breath in my lungs, as long as there is blood coursing through my veins, I can change. The real value of life is the difference that I can make for eternity in me. In who I will be forever. That is the reason HASHEM put us on the planet, and it is the only thing truly worth striving for.

As we approach the Yomim Noroim (high holidays), let us resolve to accomplish this year, and become the great individuals that G-d wishes us to be.

יב) לזכרון – שיהא רואה הקב”ה השבטים כתובים לפניו ויזכור צדקתם

“You shall place both stones on the shoulder straps of the ephod, remembrance stones for the Children of Israel. Aaron shall carry their names before HASHEM on both of his shoulders as a remembrance.” — Shemos 28:12

Moshe was commanded to make garments for the Kohanim
Moshe was commanded to make garments for the Kohanim. Included in these was the ephod, a piece of clothing similar to an apron, with two shoulder straps on top holding the avnei shoham, gold settings that contained precious stones. HASHEM told Moshe to engrave the names of the twelve shvatim onto these stones as a remembrance. Rashi explains that this was so that the memory of Reuvain, Shimon, Levi, etc. would be invoked when the Kohain Gadol did the avodah, and HASHEM would then remember their righteousness.

The shvatim sinned
This Rashi seems to be difficult to understand. The avodah of the Kohain Gadol is vital and highly sensitive; the world’s very existence depends upon it. As a result, there are many items that are avoided in the avodah so as not to bring up even the faintest memories of sin. While there is no question that the shvatim were men of extraordinary greatness, that greatness was also tainted with the sin of selling their brother. They had a rationale for what they did, but they still plotted and carried out an attempt to kill Yosef, one of the greatest tzaddikim in the history of mankind. Didn’t that sin permanently affect who they were? Shouldn’t that be reason enough not to mention their names in such a critical situation?

Every diamond has a flaw
The answer is based on an issue of perspective. A diamond is an object of beauty, yet even a minor imperfection can greatly devalue it. A small flaw can transform a priceless gem into an almost worthless stone. However, not every flaw destroys a diamond’s value.

Imagine that there are two large diamonds in front of you, one a beautifully cut jewel with a minor flaw, and the other the same as the first, but flawless – a perfect diamond. We would assume that the flawless diamond would be far more valuable than the other.

If we were to ask a diamond expert to appraise the two, there is no doubt that he would tell us that the difference between them is huge. He would say that the diamond with the minor flaw is worth a fortune while the completely flawless diamond is almost valueless — because it is a fake. One of the signs that a diamond is real is that it has a flaw. While it may be a very minor imperfection and almost unnoticeable, all genuine diamonds have flaws. The only perfect diamonds are made of cubic zirconium, and are costume jewelry.

HASHEM created the human, knowing he would sin
So too, the human. When HASHEM formed man, it was not for him to be perfect. Perfection rests in the realm of the molochim. A moloch will spend its entire existence without sin. As such, molochim are perfect. But molochim aren’t man. Man and man alone was given the unique opportunity in all of Creation: to determine his destiny either by becoming the greatest of all or by sinking below the animals.

To allow man to create who he would be for eternity, HASHEM gave him free will. However, free will doesn’t mean the theoretical ability to choose; it means being put into situations where either choice is viable and either option is real. Man has to be challenged. To allow for that, man has to be tempted to choose either good or bad and be given the ability to make mistakes. Every man has, and every man will make mistakes. Some are large, and some are small, but the idea of man living without sin hasn’t happened yet and will not happen ever.

At the end of his days, man isn’t measured by how much he sinned. He is measured by how great he became. The real damage of sin is that it prevents growth. If a person becomes mired in sin, then his focus is diverted, his energies consumed, and he doesn’t become a fraction of what he could. Even still, it is a given that every man has sinned and will sin.

The shvatim were like flawed diamonds
The answer to the question on Rashi seems to be that the shvatim were in fact men of unimaginable greatness, but they also had flaws and sinned. Each would be compared to a 200-carat diamond with an imperfection. They were huge, beautiful diamonds – with flaws.

When viewing a diamond, you can’t see the flaw. To perceive it, you need to look through a jeweler’s loop that magnifies the stone by a power of ten times or more. Only via direct scrutiny does the flaw become noticeable. It is always present, but the eye doesn’t see it. All the eye can see is glimmer and reflected light in an object of extreme beauty.

What will I be like in Olam Habbah?
This concept has great relevance to us. People often wonder, “What will it be like for me in the World to Come? I’ve done many good things in my life, but I’m not a great tzaddik. I’ve also done plenty wrong, and I can’t even say that I did tshuvah for everything.”

“For eternity, I will be exactly what I made myself into. So what kind of Olam Habbah am I going to have? Forever I will walk around with my faults permanently part of me. How will I ever enjoy eternity when I am sullied – permanently stained?”

I will be like a diamond with a flaw
This Chazal tells us that our imperfections are what they are, and unless we remove them with the process of tshuvah, they will be on our permanent record. However, all that means is that I will have flaws, like a diamond. Maybe I’ll be a two-carat diamond, maybe a four-carat – but a precious gem nonetheless. While the blemishes will be there, so too will the shining brilliance of a jewel. One doesn’t cancel out the other. The flaw isn’t eliminated, nor is the brilliance eradicated. Both are there. I will be a diamond with a flaw.

My work now, as long as I have time left, is to improve the quality of the diamond and to eliminate its faults. By learning Torah, doing mitzvahs, and working on my middos, I change the weight, color, and clarity of the stone. Who I will be for eternity is in my hands. If I focus my attention and energies on growth, my reward will be perfection more valuable than the finest diamonds ever mined.

For more on this topic please listen to Shmuz #16 – Olam Habbah as a Motivator

HASHEM answered them, “Is it possible that a king sits on the throne of judgment, with the books of life and death open in front of Him, and the Jewish Nation should sing?”

The Molochim’s position

Molochim have no physical limitations or impediments, and therefore, they see with a brilliant, piercing clarity. They know and understand reality to an extent that we mortals can only dream about. The question then is, why did the Molochim think that the Jewish People should say Hallel on Rosh Hashanah? Isn’t obvious that the solemnity of the day makes it inappropriate to sing? What was the Molochim’s perspective, and what did HASHEM made clear to them?

Issues of the day

The answer to this is based on a different understanding of Rosh Hashanah. The Mishnah tells us that on Rosh Hashanah, “Every occupant of the planet stands in front of HASHEM and is judged.” Small or great, young or old, from the most prestigious to the most simple, every human being is examined, and his fate for the coming year is decided.

But it isn’t just individual lives that are examined. Global issues are also weighed, measured, and determined. Which nation will go to war? Which will enjoy peace? Which lands will enjoy great prosperity and success? Which will suffer? Which new technologies will be brought to the marketplace? Which cures will be discovered? Which diseases will suddenly appear? Which epidemics will spread? Which dictator will refuse arm inspections, even though he doesn’t have weapons of mass destruction? And which will play the game, speaking words of hatred from the United Nations floor? All of the issues of the coming year are reviewed, assessed, and arbitrated. The entire globe is one multi-dimensional chess game, and the Master maps out the moves.

The headlines of the New York Times are written on Rosh Hashanah and sealed on Yom Kippur. But it isn’t only the headlines of the coming year that are written; every article, feature, and news scoop from the global down to the local is considered, appraised, and deliberated.

Recently, the New York Times reported that it employs 350 full-time reporters and a string of hundreds of freelance contributors spread amongst 53 distinct news bureaus that are divided by local, national, and foreign territories. A single issue of he Times has far more words in it that the entire Tanach. If a person were to read it aloud, it would take him more than 20 hours from front page to back. 

The reason for this is that there are many, many issues that affect the over six and half billion occupants of this planet. And every one of those issues is judged by HASHEM on Rosh Hashanah. Hurricanes, typhoons, earthquakes, and famine, economic expanse and collapse — even issues as grave as old baseball stadiums being torn down — are judged and decided. The issues of the day are awesome, their magnitude encompassing the breadth of the human experience.

We, the Jewish People, are servants of HASHEM, and we are also fans of HASHEM. We are his Chosen Nation, and He is our Master. During the course of the year, we suffer through the insolence and audacity of arrogant people who deny HASHEM’s rule and control over the world, and during this time of year, we revel in the fact that HASHEM sits as the true Judge, meting out the fate of mankind. As such, we should feel a tremendous sense of joy , an outpouring of emotion, as we contemplate the magnificence of the Din. As Rav Dovid Khronglass, ZTL, mashgiach of Ner Israel once commented, “On Yom Kippur, if it weren’t for the fear of the Din, I would dance a rikud.” That is the natural outpouring of happiness that a person experiences when the Creator is shown in His glory.

Ha’Melech Ha’Kadosh

During these days, we refer to HASHEM in the Shemoneh Esreh as Ha’Melech Ha’Kadosh – the Holy King. The name of HASHEM refers to the way that He manifests Himself in the world. The Mishnah Berurah explains that during this time, HASHEM shows His rule and dominion, so it would be incorrect to refer to HASHEM as HaKel HaKadosh – the Holy G-d, as we normally do. Now it is the holy King. 

It is also easier to feel HASHEM’s presence, to literally feel like I am standing in front of my Creator and begging, imploring, and beseeching because HASHEM is more accessible now during this time than in the rest of the year.

That is the Molochim’s position. From their shining, lucid perspective, they see that there is something missing from the Yom Tov of Rosh Hashanah. We wear Yom Tov clothing, we eat a festive meal, and we bathe and shave in honor of the day. By all rights, Hallel should be a part of the davening, too, yet it is noticeably absent. Why? If we understand the magnitude of the issues being decided on that day, and we are able to envision HASHEM sitting on the throne of justice, meting out exactly what is proper, we should be overcome with a sense of jubilation and wish to sing out with Hallel.

HASHEM’s answer

However, HASHEM answers the Molochim, “On a global level it is magnificent, but the judgment is on a personal level as well, Each person must recognize that, ‘My fate for the coming year is being decided. Will I live or die? Will I be healthy or sick? Will I enjoy great prosperity or not? The fate of family, my community, those that I love, and those that depend upon me is being decided. The human race is judged and I too am a human, so it is inappropriate to sing on such a day.”

The balanced perspective

Both emotions should be present. I should feel great simcha during these days as I experience HASHEM’s closeness and contemplate the awesomeness of the day. Yet that emotion must be tempered with the understanding that my future, the future of my spouse, the future of my children, my parents, my extended family, and my community is being decided.

This balanced perspective allows us to experience great simcha during this time period mixed with the awe and solemnity appropriate for this time.

May HASHEM grant us a sweet, good year with health, happiness and success in all of our endeavors.

For more on this topic please listen to Shmuz #2 Rosh HaShanah  -  Issues of the Day

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(יב) לא בשמים הוא לאמר מי יעלה לנו השמימה ויקחה לנו וישמענו אתה ונעשנה:

רש”י על דברים פרק ל פסוק יב

(יב) לא בשמים הוא – שאילו היתה בשמים היית צריך לעלות אחריה וללמדה:

: :

“It is not in the heavens for you to say, ‘Who can ascend to the heaven for us and take it for us so that we can listen to it and perform it?’. . . Rather the matter is very near to you, in your mouth and your heart, to perform it.” – Devarim 30:12-14

After many grave warnings against leaving the ways of the Torah, Moshe Rabbeinu tells the Klal Yisroel that learning and keeping the Torah is within easy grasp of each of us. “Acquiring it doesn’t require wings to fly to the heavens, and studying it doesn’t demand crossing oceans.” Rather, Torah is well within the reach of each person.

Rashi, in commenting on the words, “It is not in the heavens,” adds the explanation: “For if it were in the heavens, you would be obligated to go up after it to learn it.”

If only I had wings to fly
This Rashi is difficult to understand. Rashi’s role in Chumash is to clarify what the Torah means. As an aid to understanding, he may use examples and parables, but the goal is always to explain the pshat — the straightforward meaning of the posuk.

Not only doesn’t this comment help us understand what the Torah is telling us– it isn’t true. Since time immemorial man has dreamed about flying, but man cannot sprout wings and fly. How can the Torah expect the impossible from us? And even more, this explanation is the opposite of what the Torah is trying to tell us. The entire paragraph outlines how close the Torah is and how easy it is to attain it. What is Rashi trying to teach us with his comment, “If it were in the heavens, you would be obligated to go up after it to learn it?”

The answer to this can best be understood with a moshol:

An amazing feat of strength
In 1997 in Tallahassee, Florida, a young boy was involved in an accident, and ended up being pinned under the wheel of a car. Rescuers couldn’t help him; he was trapped. An onlooker, seeing the danger, rushed over, and almost without thinking, reached for the fender of the car, lifted it off the ground, and freed the boy – a feat of amazing strength.

The unusual part of the story is that the hero, the one who lifted the car, was not a trained emergency professional or some big burly fireman, but rather the boy’s 63-year-old grandmother who had never before lifted anything heavier than a bag of dog food.

The story became a media sensation and Dr. Charles Garfield, the author of a book of fantastic sports feats entitled Peak Performance, decided he wanted to interview her. However, she wasn’t interested in talking to him. She wouldn’t return his calls, and she did everything she could to avoid discussing the event. Finally, Dr. Garfield, being a convincing fellow, got her to agree to a meeting, and the reason she was reluctant to discuss the act turned out to be almost as amazing as the event itself.

During the discussion, the grandmother said she didn’t like to talk about the incident because it challenged her beliefs about what she could and could not do — about what was possible. “If I was able to do this, when I didn’t think it was possible, what does that say about the rest of my life? Have I wasted it?”

After further discussion, Dr. Garfield asked her what she would like to do. She explained that she had never had the opportunity to further her education after high school. So after some coaching, Mrs. Laura Shultz began college at the age of 63. She received her degree and then went on to teach science in a community college.

Our attitude determines our altitude
This story is illustrative of a very human tendency. Our understanding of what is and what is not possible creates imagined ceilings of opportunity for us. If I were smarter, I would have. . . If I were more talented, I could have. . . but I just can’t do it. Yet some people, who aren’t any more talented, who weren’t given all the breaks, just seem to plow through and somehow make the seemingly impossible happen. It almost seems that their attitude is their single greatest asset.

Eyes on the Prize
This seems to be the answer to this Rashi. The Torah isn’t telling us that we need to sprout wings and fly. Rather, this is a moshol for the drive that a person must have to succeed. If a person’s attitude is, “Whatever it takes. No mountain is too high, no obstacle too difficult. If it were up in the heavens, I would fly there,” then he will reach heights. However, if that enthusiasm is lacking, no matter how close the Torah is, he will not acquire it.

You don’t need to fly to the skies, but you need be ready to. Once that drive is in place, nothing can stop you.

The reality is that we have been given the Torah. It has been placed in front of us like a fully laden table. However, there are many, many obstacles that prevent us from learning it. Not rivers or mountains, but circumstances and distractions. There are many competing forces and many “other” responsibilities. So even though the Torah is very close, it is very, very far away. To acquire it, a person must maintain a laser like focus.

Two types of Gedolim
Throughout the ages there have been two types of Gedolim: the “naturals” and the “hard workers.” Each generation has its Rav Moshe Feinsteins, the born geniuses, and it has had its Chasam Sofers, those who began as average, but just kept plugging away, learning and learning, until they reached the greatest heights. Both groups have one thing in common – amaylos in Torah, laboring in Torah study.

It isn’t that Torah study is difficult; it is that success in any endeavor in life requires constant motivation and strengthening of determination. And how much more so something that is as wide and as deep as the oceans?

No matter what a person’s natural capacity and life circumstances, if he sets his goal as the attainment of Torah, HASHEM will help so that he can reach the stars. Is the journey difficult? While there are many challenges along the way, the ways of the Torah are pleasant, and a Jew has unique aptitude to absorb it. The only difficult part is setting our sights high enough and holding the course. However, if a person sets out with a drive to do whatever it takes, even if it means “flying to the heavens,” then HASHEM helps, and that person can reach his personal level of greatness on par with the greatest of Torah giants.

For more on this topic please listen to Shmuz #85 -Motivation

I’d love to hear.

Rabbi Shafier