Tuesday, July 24, 2012

A Taste Of Things To Come


This past Shabbos, I was learning the sefer Imrei Baruch by Rav Baruch Simon, a Rosh Yeshiva at YU, and wanted to share two pieces that I found there that are related to the period of the 3 Weeks and Tisha B'Av.

The Gemara in the tractate of Ta’anis (30B) says that anyone who mourns for Yerushalayim will merit to see it in its rejoicing, and one who does not mourn for Yerushalayim will not see its rejoicing. The Maharal in the 23rd chapter of his work, Netach Yisrael explains this Gemara. He writes that one who knows he is lacking something in his life can look forward to something that will complete his existence, but someone who feels as though his life is already complete cannot feel a sense of longing for anything. Thus, according to the Gemara, one who actively mourns for Yerushalayim has cultivated within himself a vacant space that will be filled with the joy of Yerushalayim’s rebuilding. By contrast, one who believes that life is great the way it is has no ability to appreciate a future that has been completed by the rebuilding of the Beis Hamikdash, and thus cannot experience it.

Rav Simon adds that it appears as though Hashem is acting toward the person in a midah k’neged midah (measure for measure) fashion. Someone who considers Yerushalayim important enough in their hearts to realize he is incomplete without the city and Temple standing in their grandeur will merit to have that hole in his life filled by the comfort of the city’s rejoicing. By contrast, one who believes his existence his full and perfect without Yerushalayim are excluded, since he feels there is nothing missing in his life.

The Chasam Sofer elaborates on a very interesting concept related to this tradition that one who mourns for Yerushalayim will merit to see it be comforted. He notes that the word “to see” is written in present, not future tense, as one might expect. The reason is due to the wholly different nature of our mourning for Yerushalayim, when compared to other nations’ response to past tragedies. For other nations in the world who take time to remember tragic events in their history, there is a sense of total loss, of remembering what is no longer here and gone forever. This is not so by the Jewish people and our mourning for Yerushalayim. As we know from the story of Yaakov and Yosef’s sale, Yaakov would not be comforted despite his children’s best efforts. There, Rashi explains that this was because the natural order created by Hashem is that a person should gradually find solace and begin to forget the intense pain of a true loss of life as time goes by, a phenomenon which does not exist for someone who is missing but still alive and could return. So too is it with our mourning for Yerushalayim. While we are saddened by its absence in our lives, we know, deep down, that one day (hopefully soon) Moshiach will come and we will once again be able to experience the spiritual splendor of the Beis Hamikdash, just as we did in times of old.

This year, Tisha B’Av falls out on Shabbos, which means the observance of the fast itself will be pushed off until Motzei Shabbos and Sunday. When I first realized this, I thought that for once the Jewish people would be observing the opinion of Rabbi Yochanan, who says that had he been there when the fast day was established, he would have made it on the 10th of Av, since the majority of the Beis Hamikdash burned then and only started to burn on the 9th. However, it still didn’t quite sit well with me that I’d be spending the actual day of Tisha B’Av enjoying Shabbos, eating foods, singing zemiros, and spending time with friends and family.

Then it hit me.

We are all aware of the idea that Tisha B’Av is called a “moed” or holiday, based on the verse in Eicha 1:15. Based on this, we don’t say tachanun during the day, and the rabbis tell us that in the future, Tisha B’Av will actually become a day of celebration once the Beis Hamikdash is rebuilt. This, of course, means that the day will be transformed from one of sitting on the floor, fasting, refraining from greeting one another to a day of dancing, feasting and rejoicing.

This year, due to the structure of our calendar, we are privileged to have a taste of things to come. We will be able to experience Tisha B’Av as it is meant to be experienced, not as a day of mourning but as one of celebration. True, we must not let this idea go to our heads and cause us to forget the fact of the matter that the Beis Hamikdash is not yet rebuilt, but I hope we can utilize this opportunity to prepare our minds for the great change that will occur with Moshaich’s arrival.

Hopefully, this year’s observance of Shabbos on Tisha B’Av will prepare us all for the true celebration and happiness we will experience next year with the coming of Moshiach and the rebuilding of the 3rd and final Beis Hamikdash!

Wednesday, July 11, 2012

Save The Worms - Lend A Helping Hand

It happens almost every day, and each time I see the aftermath I feel saddened and helpless.

I'm walking down the sidewalk, typically going into or leaving my apartment and I notice a curled up, crispy little creature frozen in time, its last moments captured in some horrific, painful-looking expression of death . 

What am I talking about? Earthworms.
Your friendly neighborhood soil processor.
Source: wikimedia.org
While I used to think these little guys surfaced after it rained to avoid drowning, it turns out the real reason is because they utilize the moistened environment to move around above ground, a faster mode of transport than burrowing through the dirt, their typical means of travel which helps avoid becoming dried out. 

I have noticed worms crawling across the sidewalk in the early morning on my way to shul for Shacharis. In the afternoons, as I return for Mincha/Ma'ariv, I often spot unfortunate worms who didn't quite make it back into a nearby dirt-covered area before the midday sun baked them into something that looks like this:

Source:  http://southfloridadaily.com/
In the worst cases,  the poor critters are frozen in time, reaching upward as though begging G-d Himself to help them find shelter as their body dehydrates and dies millimeter by millimeter. I imagine that experience is excruciatingly painful, but I am thankful that the worms don't possess a higher sentience that allows them to dwell on their misery in some philosophical/ existential fashion as they progressively exit their mortal existence.

So what's with all this worm musing?

Sometimes we see people we know struggling with a difficulty in life. Trying to make it from point A to point B, but for whatever reason they can't quite make it, and may very well fail in their attempt. It could be that they don't possess all the faculties or resources to be able to accomplish the goal for which they have the desire. 

As much as we are taught to believe that G-d does not give us challenges that we cannot overcome, I do not think that this means we, as individuals, must approach these obstacles alone. The very fact that you witness someone struggling means that you had the opportunity to see them in their state of need means that you are now connected with their travail, however minor your observance of their toil might be. 

Whether it's someone struggling in Torah learning, trying to accept upon themselves the observance or improved observance of a particular mitzvah, difficulty dating, conflicts with friends, teachers, or parents, or just about anything else out there - it would behoove us to think about how we can help the person achieve what they are trying to accomplish. 

Our effort could be as extensive as offering to work closely with the person to facilitate their success, becoming their chevrusa, dating mentor, shoulder to cry on, ear to listen, or as seemingly minor as offering a word of encouragement or pointing them in the right direction, letting them know where they can get help, or telling them you've also struggled with this area and would be glad to lend a hand where possible.

Every time I see an earthworm making its way across the damp morning sidewalk - or especially if it is later in the day and the temperature along with the sun's radiance is increasing - I take a moment to crouch down and move the little guy into a shady grassy/dirt covered area nearby. It's such a minimal effort, but it saves the worm from a terrible death.

We must be cognizant of those around us, especially those close to us, those we hold near and dear in our hearts and minds, and not stand still while they frustrate themselves with something that may be just beyond their reach. Just like that earthworm that was inches away from the grass before it was crispified by the sun, we could reach out and give those people the small little boost of support they need to succeed for themselves. 

May we all look out for one another, in ways both big and small, and create a more unified Jewish people as a result of our efforts.


Tuesday, June 26, 2012

Why Did Miriam Die?

While doing shnaim mikrah v'echad targum this week, a question popped into my mind that I hadn't thought of before.

In this week's parsha of Chukas, we have the infamous incident of Moshe becoming angry and striking the rock instead of speaking to it as instructed by HaShem. For this action (or perhaps his anger) he and Aharon are denied the privilege of entering Eretz Canaan.

However, earlier in the parsha, Miriam dies for some unexplained reason. Rashi's first comment there is about the juxtaposition of her death to the Para Aduma - which is a hotly debated subject in its own right. The second, which other commentators echo, is related to the fact that she her actual death was due to receiving a kiss from HaShem. After checking the Mikraos Gedolos Hame'or, it seems that no mainstream commentator writes anything about this enigma.

Miriam, being female, should have been allowed to enter the land just like all the other women who weren't participants in the mass hysteria caused by listening to the spies' negative report.

So why did she die now, before she was able to enter Canaan?

My first theory is that since she was the oldest sibling, perhaps it was just her time - her death took place at the start of the 40th year of traveling in the desert after all.

Or, in an interesting twist - she died because Moshe and Aharon were going to die and not enter the land. There is some textual evidence, as well as further remarks in Shas/Midrashim that indicate she was a leader among the women akin to Moshe and Aharon's roles as leaders. If they weren't going to enter the land, it probably wouldn't be fair to Yehoshua to have a previous generation leader still around, perhaps #3 on the overall totem pole in terms of greatness and prophecy. She also probably didn't have the character type like Devorah did later on in Shoftim, who actively judged, led, and went into battle. The job of Moshe's successor was going to be a hectic and demanding one, and it may not have fit her personal strengths.

This second idea, unlike the first doesn't explain why she died BEFORE Moshe hit the rock and he and Aharon received their punishment.

I'm somewhat surprised that I've never heard anyone talk about this before in a shiur or dvar Torah. If the meforshim don't mention it, there must be something pretty simple that I'm missing...

Has anyone heard/learnt anything about Miriam's death?

UPDATE: 10:55 PM - after a bit of Googling, I found that Rav Zev Leff was asked this question. In short, he quotes a Zohar (which is further elaborated in the Netziv) that says since this was a transitional period for Bnei Yisrael, they had to stop relying on open miracles - here, her rock-well that provided water - and instead learn how to live a more "natural" existence of hidden miracles, which would include praying to HaShem for rain. Rav Leff further explains that Miriam died without the miracles that accompanied Moshe and Aharon's deaths (but didn't she get the kiss from HaShem?), which allowed her to become a bridge of sorts between these two periods. The people, by not eulogizing her, failed to get this point. Additionally, the Netziv adds that "speaking" to the rock instead of hitting it as before represented a process more akin to what they would do in Eretz Yisrael, as previously mentioned, by davening to receive rain.

With all due respect, while interesting, I find this explanation a bit unsatisfying. As I've learned more in Yeshiva in Israel and at YU (particularly in Rabbi Hayyim Angel's shiur), I want to find some sort of pshat based in the psukim to help clarify what was going on with Miriam's death... So please leave a comment if you've heard anything on this subject.

Tuesday, June 12, 2012

They Might Be Giants...


In this week’s Parsha of Shelach, we encounter the tragic incident of the spies. Sent by Moshe at the request of the people, ten of these twelve men of stature return from their 40-day sojourn in the land of Canaan with a negative, discouraging report that greatly frightens Bnei Yisrael, thereby inducing a mass hysteria.  This terrified reaction leads to Hashem’s proclamation that the entire generation that unjustly bemoaned why they ever left Egypt will not merit inheriting the land promised to their forefathers.

What was the main problem in the spies report? Some commentators focus on the fact that they incorrectly gave an assessment of Bnei  Yisrael’s capability to fight the Canaanites instead of assessing the goodness of the land, thereby ignoring Moshe’s instructions; they were sent to survey the territory, not formulate a strategy for the forthcoming battles.  

I would like to offer a different approach that emphasizes the perspective and message that was delivered, which will hopefully demonstrate the problematic nature of the spies’ report.

After their initial remarks, and the encouraging but failed counter-protest by Calev, the spies conclude their dismal presentation by saying “…And there we saw the Nephilim, the sons of Anak, who come of the Nephilim; and we were in our own sight as grasshoppers, and so we were in their sight'” (Bamidbar 13:33).

The word “Nephilim” is typically translated as giants, and these residents of Canaan indeed were physically large as well as experienced warriors. It is also true that by this point in time, Bnei Yisrael had not fought in many battles. However, they had seen the powerful outstretched arm of Hashem miraculously wipe out the Egyptian people and its army and had heard Hashem promise that He would again intervene in their forthcoming campaign to conquer Canaan.

Yet, what exactly did the spies say? They claimed that “we were in our own sight as grasshoppers,” a remark spoken from their own perspective, which minimized their personal significance and talents. They then went further to conjecture from the viewpoint of the giants, placing unexpressed thoughts into their minds and words into their mouths. Regardless of what the Nephilim did or didn’t say (see the tractate of Sotah 3A where this is discussed), the central issue at hand is the spies’ self-abnegation. The spies perceived themselves as grasshoppers – and because they conceived themselves as such, they became what they feared. Only after they declare “we were in our own sight as grasshoppers” then they concluded “and so we were in their sight.’”

It is interesting to note that the spies chose the image of a “chagav” or “grasshopper” to demonstrate their misperceived weakness. This exact phraseology is used again in a similar deprecating fashion later in Tanach in the book of Yeshaya, where the verse says, “The One Who sits above the circle of the earth, and those who inhabit it are as grasshoppers” (40:22). Clearly, being compared to a grasshopper is not a favorable metaphor.

A grasshopper
However, I think this is where the spies missed the point. True, the giants were physically larger and mightier than Bnei Yisrael, and had fought in countless wars that honed the skills of their army while we spent centuries in slavery. Indeed, this mere fact could make us feel like insects in their sight. But, there is another, related creature that the spies, and in reality, all of Bnei Yisrael had recently witnessed that wrought tremendous destructive power despite its small size: the locust.
An Egyptian locust
A giant locust swarm
A swarm of locusts ravaged the Egyptian countryside as the seventh of the ten plagues Hashem brought upon Pharaoh and his nation as punishment for their mistreatment of Bnei Yisrael. Individually, a locust is nothing more than a buzzing pest, and for some a food item. Yet, when combined into an organized mass, they are a force to be reckoned with. In fact, they cannot be reckoned with, and the only thing anyone can do in the face of a locust swarm is pray that the locusts veer away from their crops.


A swarm of locusts devouring vegetation in the
Mexican State of Yucatan
                                                                 Locusts are actually a subtype of grasshopper, distinct for their swarming behavioral pattern. In this light, the spies should have seen themselves, and the entirety of the Jewish people, as a swarm of locusts, each individual seemingly minute and unimportant, but together, they form an almost unstoppable wave of awe-inspiring, coordinated power. Guided by the Hand of Hashem, as the locusts were in Egypt (and elsewhere in Tanach, see the second chapter of Joel), they would be victorious as they overwhelmed the Canaanites and successfully conquered the land promised to their forefathers.

Alas, this was not to be.

However, we can learn from this entomology lesson (entomology is the study of insects) and strive to avoid making the same mistake the spies made. We should recognize the harmful properties of projecting a negative, self-deprecating image of ourselves; it can become an unfortunate, self-destructive reality.  We should also take to heart the concept presented in Mishlei 14:28, “B’rov Am Hadras Melech” or “In the multitudes there is glorification of the King.” We are not comparable to lone grasshoppers, but to locusts, who join together for a purpose larger and more significant than we may realize. A minyan of ten men can accomplish more than a single man praying alone, and the totality of the Jewish People gathered together, joining our unique individualities in the service of Hashem, can accomplish miraculous feats the likes of which the world cannot begin to imagine. Together, and only together, with the light of the Torah as our guide, can we achieve what may otherwise seem impossible.

Friday, June 1, 2012

"Light The Way" By The Moshav Band

I'm not sure how I missed this fantastic new song by the world renowned Moshav Band, which was posted around Chanukah time. It was meant to be a preview for their upcoming album, for which I can't find an official release date.

The music is uplifting, the lyrics are inspiring, and it's a very worthy addition to their varied, engaging and otherwise amazing musical repertoire.



I hope we hear more news about their new CD soon. Moshav has been one of the mainstays of alternative Jewish Music for many years, and their continued success is a testament to their talent and mastery of their art. They also happen to do a great job at weddings.

What do you guys think of "Light The Way?"

Tuesday, May 22, 2012

"Change, " A New Music Video From Judablue

Judablue has done it again! They have put together another fantastic, moving, inspiring song along with a very well done music video that tells a great story. They released it right at the end of Pesach, which didn't give much time for people to enjoy it before Sefirah began, so I'm making sure everyone can take time to listen and watch this incredible video.



This song can be downloaded for FREE if you "like" Judablue on Facebook.

All I want to know is - when's their next album coming out!?

Sunday, May 20, 2012

Yom Yerushalayim 5772

Yom Yerushalayim Sameach!

I spent most of last night after Shabbos and this morning putting together a slideshow/video presentation for our local JCC, featuring pictures taken by local residents during their trips to visit Yerushalayim and the Kotel.

While going through my old collection of pictures from my time in yeshiva, I couldn't help but feel an immense pride and gratitude swelling up within me - as well as a strong desire to go back as soon as I can (grad school permitting).

Our shul doesn't really commemorate the holiday, but I'm wearing a white shirt today and stepped out into the hall during tachanun to say Hallel to myself. Even if I couldn't enjoy the beautiful singing I have experienced at YU and in Israel, I had to do something to commemorate the occasion for myself in a meaningful, spiritual fashion.

ASoG and I also read Rabbi Norman Lamm's drashos found in the back of his newest book "Majesty and Mystery" - dedicated primarily to Megillas Esther, but also containing several speeches he gave related to other holidays of praise and thanksgiving to HaShem. The selection printed about Yom Yerushalayim were written in 1967 as the events actually transpired - and the reader can follow Rabbi Lamm's personal and congregational spiritual journey form one Shabbos to the next as the war begins and then ends. It's a fascinating read, and I highly recommend anyone to go out and buy the sefer to read these - and then use it next Purim, too!

Anyway, I wanted to share with you guys an incredible video I found on Youtube, filmed during the actual re-taking of Har Habayis in 1967. I'm awestruck watching it...


Please check out my posts from previous years, including an incredible story told by President Richard Joel and a sicha by Rav Meir Goldvicht.

Chag Sameach!

PS - for anyone who is friends with Shlomo Katz on Facebook, he has uploaded an incredible recording of him leading Hallel this morning at Rav Kook's house.

Wednesday, May 16, 2012

Here Today, Gone Tomorrow?

Within the last week, my parents' close friend and co-worker was diagnosed with an inoperable form of pancreatic cancer that may have already metastasized. He was feeling fine last month, with the exclusion of some back pain that he described as nothing worse than usual. Then he began having leg pains, which turned out to be blood clots - one symptom of pancreatic cancer. After the prerequisite tests, scans, and a biopsy, his diagnosis was confirmed.

The doctor, with a grim look on his face, turned to my parents' friend and told him that they will go ahead with chemotherapy, but he should get his affairs in order.

His son was due to be married in November, but odds are he won't survive until then, and thus plans are probably in the works to move the date up to ensure that he will be strong enough to attend (or be alive to attend at all).

This man is only a year older than my mother, and this is the first person among their circle of friends to who will succumb to an age-related illness (this excludes another friend who died of a sudden heart attack 10 years ago). Both my mother and father are quite dismayed with the depressing news. Measures need to be taken to train another employee to replace this fellow, but nothing concrete has been organized, but that's the least of their concerns at the present time.

Scary, isn't it?

Thank G-d, both my parents are relatively healthy. But this current crisis makes me wonder what it will be like (after 120 years G-d willing) when they are no longer around. It also sends my mind off worrying about what might happen to anyone I know - myself included.

Pirkei Avos 2:15 quotes Rabbi Eliezer as saying that everyone should do teshuva (repent) one day before they die. Avos d'Rebbe Nosson expands on this, and Rabbi Eliezer is asked how can one know what day he'll die, to which he replies that we should do teshuva every day, since it may, indeed be our last.

Morbid stuff, right?

But how much do any of us really think about this? Particularly us younger folk, with our misperceptions regarding our own mortality; nothing can stop us, whenever we get sick we'll get better, I'll stay young and never grow old and worn out, etc. etc.

Certainly it does not do any of us good to constantly have this on our minds, which would probably lead many to thoughts of depression. However, reflecting on these facts of how life works and how fragile, precious, beautiful, and how ill-appreciated each of our days are, can keep a person properly humble and thankful for every waking moment. We can use these thoughts to make what we do in life matter, to better help others - and ourselves - and leave a lasting, positive impact on the world around us.

As Tehillim 103:15-16 says, man is like a blade of grass - one moment we're here and flourishing, flowering - and the next a strong wind can come and pluck us up and away, as though we were never there.

It would behoove us all to take some time to think about these things, to better reorient ourselves in whatever way(s) necessary, to improve our conduct, both between us and HaShem and between us and our fellow man.

Please daven for the refuah shelayma of Shmuel ben Rochel. 

Thank you.

Saturday, May 12, 2012

Still Continuing The Fight Against Evil...

After several months of nothing, the guys behind The Mighty Morphin' YU Rangers have uploaded another trailer for their upcoming video Kamen Rider RIETS.



This one is pretty cinematic in overall quality. I also think the plot is something a lot of us YU students can relate to. Well, kind of :)

I hope they don't take too long to finish the video!

Thursday, May 10, 2012

In Memory Of Chaim Feigenbaum

I was greatly saddened when I heard that Chaim Feigenbaum passed away last Shabbos morning. I never met him, but I do know of his reputation as a ben Torah from friends who were close to him, and more directly, I knew him through his unbelievably inspiring, energy building, soul-stirring music that he produced with his band Omek Hadavar.

Chaim battled leukemia for the last year and a half, as chronicled on this blog. In the last post, they have links to the hespedim offered in America and in Israel where he was buried.

While his passing is a great loss for many, I think his musical influence will be very much missed as well. His soulful vocals and compositions were unique and really struck to the core of spiritual connection to Judaism. Aryeh Kunstler, posted on Facebook that he had been working with Chaim on several songs/niggunim for a new, independent project, but Chaim never got a chance to record anything. I hope that Aryeh - and perhaps other musicians who knew Chaim, including the other members of Omek Hadavar - will someday (soon) bring these compositions to life as a tribute to Chaim.

As I mentioned, I never even met Chaim, and the only time I can recall seeing him was when he performed with Omek Hadavar at YU's Chanukah concert my first year back from Israel. I loved their first CD "The Depth of the Matter" and I was beyond elated when they released a follow-up album last year called "Mekor Chaim." I wrote a post about the song "Ein Yeiush" which draws many of its lyrics from Breslov writings. Please re-read that post, it's worth it.

Now that Lag B'Omer is here, I think it would be a great tribute to Chaim's memory if anyone who owns an Omek Hadavar album to pop it in their stereo or bring it up on their iPod. If there are readers out there who don't  yet have a copy of these beautiful CDs, you're really missing out on something special.

Yehi zichro baruch.

Update: 5/31/12 - I just found that Shlomo Katz' song "Tefilah L'chaim" has been reposted online at Jewish Music Insights - click here to listen.