Monday, August 15, 2011

Finding Your Voice


Parshat Ekev
Dvarim 7:12 – 11:25
Av 5771 / August 19 – 20, 2011

Finding Your Voice
Introduction by Zvi, Guest writer is Rabbi Ronnie Cahana of Montreal

This week I want to share a unique Dvar Torah written by a Rabbi who recently suffered from a stroke. Rabbi Ronnie Cahana lives in Montreal and serves as the Rabbi of a Conservative synagogue. I am very good friends with his daughter Kitra and can bear witness to how loving and wonderful Rabbi Cahana is to his family and community. Since the stroke, which happened about one month ago, Rabbi Cahana has lost most motor control of his body. His mind is functioning perfectly and so he continues to communicate through blinking as he slowly recovers from this tragedy. Kitra sent me the Dvar Torah below that is so packed with honest and deep wisdom and I was given permission to share it with you. Though it is about an earlier parsha (Dvarim), it is fitting to our portion too.

This week, we read in 8:3, “…not by bread alone does a person live, rather by the entire expression of G-d’s word does man live.” The parallel of this pasuk with the Dvar below about the struggle to find voice and hear the word is very powerful. Please read on and if you have any reactions or message for the writer I am happy to pass it on.

Parashat Dvarim 

 ברוך אתה ה' אלוקינו מלך העולם מתיר אסורים
Blessed are You Hashem, Our G-d, King of the Universe, who releases the bound.

    An uncle of mine, an Israeli gentleman farmer, liked to say, “Just add more phosphorus; nothing should ever stop growing.”  The latter part of the sentence still intrigues.  I certainly don’t subscribe to the notion that all of nature devolves into mulch.  Creation has more spiritual content than that.  No, G-d’s Creation gives meaning from the Beginning to the End.  Pursuing the knowledge of G-d at every juncture of life is the purpose of Judaism.  We must chase after G-d in every encounter and always distinguish between good and evil in cold nature.
     
    Not long ago, our morning minyan took on a challenge at the breakfast to bring to the table our personal stories of deep Jewish wisdom.  Perry Lande, עליו השלום, brought a teaching that still impresses me.  He said that he was taught by his father, Shepsel, זכרונו לברכה, before he joined the Canadian Army, that HaShem gives everyone “arba amot” to take care of—about 6 feet square in land and air.  If you keep yours b’seder,  in order, he told us, then usually everything comes out alright.  An ama is about 1 ½ feet—the distance between our organs and our limbs.   We measure an “ama” by our reach—the space from our elbow to the tip of our longest finger, which is exactly where we put our tefillin shel yad on while making the bracha of love to G-d. 
     
      Taking care of our own spheres is a deep secret of how we can tend the divine garden and make it perfect.  However, in times of crisis, we need to open our ”arba amot”  and reach out to others and for others.  No ordeal should be experienced alone.  How wondrously close all of G-d’s creatures are to each other and what an impact we can have in each others’ lives.  I know that I have experienced this miracle and beyond.  I’m asking for us all to expand our reach, even as I cannot find mine just now.

    From this vantage at the Montreal Neurological Institute, I’m deeply inspired by our Jewish values. Our Jewish Community doesn’t allow anyone, any family, to feel isolated and our Beth-El family outshines my life.  As I am trying to find my own shofar voice—naturally, brokenly, triumphantly—tekiah, shvarim, teruah, I’m calling out to shul in gratitude: tekiah gdolah.  And please collect your wisdom stories for the shul, share them and forward them around.
   
     We always read Parashat Dvarim on the Shabbat before Tisha B’Av to dispel the loneliness of the Hurban,  the destruction of the Temple.  Moshe Rabbenu cries to G-d, “How can I bear this people alone?”  How odd this statement.  He did not even want to start the mission.  You recall that he told G-d that he couldn’t speak, but, in fact, we never see this evidenced.  Moshe was the most effective, eloquent orator ever.  He was G-d’s mouthpiece.  How could he ever say that he was a stammerer?
    
        The Five Books of the Torah are filled with G-d’s speech.  In Bereshit, G-d calls out everything in nature and gives meaning to Creation.  In Shmot, G-d names the People and gives us purpose.  In Vayikra, G-d calls us personally.  In Bamidbar, G-d speaks to the Jewish People from the Ohel Moed. Now we begin Dvarim - Elu Dvarim - These are the words.
    
        Moshe Rabeinu does not think that he cannot speak; he believes that the people cannot hear or understand G-d's meaning and the beauty of life. Moshe feels alone if he doesn't connect Israel to G-d. We are imprisoned if we only have a relationship with our G-d alone. We need community to find G-d together.

ברוך אתה ה' אלוקינו מלך העולם מתיר אסורים

Shabbat Shalom,
Rabbi Ronnie Cahana

Monday, August 8, 2011

Parshat Nachamu (Comfort)

Parshat Va’Etchanan (Shabbat Nachamu)
Dvarim 3:23 – 7:11
12 Av 5771 / August 12 – 13, 2011

Parshat Nachamu (Comfort)
by Laura W., MH London Alumnus
This Dvar is dedicated to the Aliyah Neshama of Ursula bas Yisrael and Zvi ben Abba

This week’s Parshah is Va'etchanan and as it always follows Tisha b'Av, it is more commonly referred to as Shabbat Nachamu (Comfort). This name is taken from the opening words of the haftarah from Isaiah (40:1)

'Nachamu, nachamu- Comfort, comfort My people'

I recently read an article about how a robotics division of a Japanese company lent a retirement home two of its seal robots, nicknamed Love and Peace, in an attempt to console survivors of the Tsunami and earthquake. It reminded me that this week we read the first (of seven) haftarot of consolation. During the next 7 weeks we read passages in which Hashem sends messengers to console Jerusalem. We start to see the familiar Jewish themes here of destruction and renewal. Though it is not until week 7, when Hashem offers direct consolation as we approach the month of Elul, that real healing and renewal can begin.

Sometimes it takes the experience of a personal or national tragedy to see what's real in our lives. We read about how the 2nd Temple was built with silver and gold but its destruction was due to a lack of social action and consciousness. Hashem seems more concerned with what is in our hearts and considers that more real than how much money we have and what we can buy with it. It was only by losing something so essential and significant as the Temple that we could realise how important it is to take care of each other and the world we share.

On one hand, as I am writing this (before Tisha B’Av) I am aware that the Temple lights are about to go out and we will soon experience a severing of spiritual power. On the other hand, I am comforted by the fact that Tish B’Av also heralds in a process of creating a new light.

My blessing to everyone is to experience a complete redemption from both physical and spiritual exile this Shabbat and the ability to feel Hashem’s light and comfort in our lives.

Monday, August 1, 2011

Don’t Just Do Jewish!

Shabbat Dvarim (Chazon)
Dvarim 1:1 – 3:22
6 Av 5771 / August 5-6, 2011

Don’t Just Do Jewish!
by Zvi Bellin, MHHQ

After each Torah portion, a section of the Prophets is also read, called the Haftorah. During the Three Weeks (leading up to Tisha B’Av) we read specific writings that fit into the themes of despair and punishment. This Shabbat, connected to Parshat Dvarim, we read a famous Haftorah that begins with the words, “Chazon Yishiyahu,” (The vision of Isaiah). Thus, this Shabbat, the week before Tisha B’Av, is called Shabbat Chazon, the Sabbath of Vision.

Isaiah’s words take us to the final hour. The moral and ethical level of the Jewish people has fallen beyond repair and the only solution is exile. The Holy Land (and G-d too) will not tolerate inhabitants that offer meaningless sacrifices, judge without righteousness, and ignore the poor and needy. I find it very wise that as we read the opening section to Moshe’s farewell address in Dvarim, we also read about the shortcoming of our community several generations later. Moshe’s speech is given at the boundary of the Land of Israel. He reviews some of the challenges that were had on the way to the Promised Land. Finally, the Israelites can actualize their dream. The promise to Abraham will become manifest! And in a blink of an eye, we read Isaiah’s admonishment, “Woe! O sinful nation, people weighed down with iniquity, offspring of evil, destructive children.” (1:4).

Isaiah reminds the people, both our ancestors and us, about what is truly important. He pleads, “Learn to do good, seek justice, strengthen the victim, do justice for the orphan, take up the cause of the widow.” What good is “doing Jewish” if the world around us is not getting any better. Kashrut, Shabbat, and Torah study are not practices that will inherently improve our communities. They are some of the Jewish tools that have the potential for transformation. The key though is our own intention and how the world is impacted as a result of our engagement with Judaism.

I often hear and think about this question: So, why be Jewish? You can transform the world as a Buddhist or an atheist. Does it add anything if we do things in a “Jewish way”?

No one should have a really perfect answer to this question, because we should never seek to completely invalidate one life path over another. My “work-in-progress” answer is that having a foundation story to connect with adds a tremendous amount of meaning to our engagement with the world. Our Jewish story fuels our passions, it frames our exploration of certain values and beliefs, and it creates an intimate bond in a sometimes lonely and empty universe. Also, I do think there is something real for me about spiritual connection that makes me resonate with Judaism over other religions. Check it out and let me know what you think.

Have a beautiful week and a meaningful Shabbat.

Monday, July 25, 2011

Do We Need Destruction?

Shabbat Masei
Bamidbar 33:1-36:13
28 Tamuz 5771 / July 29 – 30, 2011

Do We Need Destruction?
by Zvi Bellin, MHHQ

In this week’s portion, Parshat Masei (Journeys) we are given a recap of a variety of stops made on the way from Egypt to Palestine. Finally, the time has arrived for the Jewish people to end their lives as nomads and become land owners. One problem: Palestine is not an empty land. It is inhabited by people from a variety of nations and in Chapter 33, verses 50-53, the Israelites are instructed to not only take the land of the people dwelling there but to “drive them out,” and “destroy all their prostration stones; all their molten images shall you destroy; all their high places you shall demolish.”

Reading these verses reminds me of something I have been pondering lately. We are now in a time period in the Jewish calendar called the Three Weeks. It is the time between two fast days that mark the destruction of the First and Second Temples in Jerusalem. The first day is the 17th of Tamuz when the walls of the Temple were breached and the second day is the 9th of Ave, the actual day the Temples were destroyed.

The destruction of the Temples brought a lot of change to the Jewish people and not all of it was bad. We have stopped killing animals for our worship and have become a book-based faith, able to survive anywhere. I wonder about how destruction is sometimes necessary in order for new ideas and understandings to bloom.

In my community I hear a lot about taking the “Buddhist approach” to a situation. Accept change and give up the pain of holding on to something that you will eventually lose anyway. I definitely see the value in this philosophy and with many things try to practice it. The problem though is when we try to judge others through that lens. It is easy to say that the Jews living in the Old City of Jerusalem should have just accepted that life as they knew it was over and a new model was needed. They could have opened the city gates and surrendered – perhaps saving many lives and the Temple itself. Obviously, this is a very difficult statement to make. How can we point back at the past and purport to know what should have been done? How do we really know if things would have turned out better?

The nation of Israel is charged with a responsibility to Wrestle with G-d (the literal translation of Yisra-El). During these Three Weeks I think it is important to wrestle with the following question: What convictions do we want to hold on to, even in the face of destruction? Let’s take this contemplative period of our calendar to consider what are the beliefs about our selves, our community, and G-d that are really worth risking it all for. And similarly what convictions might we be fighting for that are no longer relevant or helpful.

Monday, July 18, 2011

Watching Our Words

Parshat Mattot
Bamidbar 30:2 – 32:42
21 Tamuz 5771 / July 22 – 23, 2011

Watching Our Words
by Zvi Bellin, MHHQ

The opening of Parshat Mattot hits us with a strong reminder: Words have power!

Verse 30:3 states,

“A person that makes a vow to dedicate something to the Divine, or swears him or herself to a prohibition, must not make her or her words hollow. Everything that comes out of his or her mouth, he or she will do.”

We all know how important words are. Not only do we have to be careful about what we say, but also how we say anything and who we say it to. Things can get even trickier when we move into the world of e-mailing. When we lose visual and auditory cues, it can be impossible to know if our message has reached the perceiver with our original intention.

I recently received a message about a tragic episode that happened in Brooklyn, when the body of a 9-year old religious Jewish boy was found disposed of in a dumpster. I read on and learned that a suspect was identified and that this person pretty much admitted to committing this crime. I began to read some of the comments left by fellow readers and my heart sank even deeper.

A few of the comments used language that I have a lot of trouble with – “Yenakem at Damo” (Avenge his blood.)If we are to take our words and intentions seriously, I think a cry for vengeance is the most dangerous prayer. When a situation calls for nurturing and healing, further destruction seems pretty pointless. Repaying with impulsive punishment does nothing more than provide temporary relief and more likely increases the cycle of guilt and anger.

We are warned in this week’s portion not to make our words hollow. In Hebrew, the verse reads, Lo Yachel Devaro. This can also be translated as: “A person shall not make his or her thing-ness empty.” I would like to suggest the following interpretation: You should protect your internal being (your thing-ness) from becoming jaded, void, and cynical.

The world can hammer upon us with difficult experiences that are scary and harsh. It takes a lot of conscious effort and practice to stay optimistic and connected to joy. A good litmus test to see how you are coping is to pay attention to the words that you use and hear about the things going on around you. If you are quick to make a joke about something, it might mean that you are experiencing discomfort. If you are being aloof, you might be disconnected or confused about a situation. If there is a lot of negative language coming at you, it might be time to close your web browser and take a walk.

If you are simply flinging words out into your environment (virtual or real) without thinking about their impact it might mean that you have lost your attunement to your internal state. Acting as a hollow shell instead of a complex unique and conscious being. This week let’s remember that our words have immense power to transform our world for the worse or, hopefully, for the better.