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Read these emails: Heroic transformations Who's your hero? (first of two articles) As part of their visit to New York , the soldiers were invited to visit with the Lubavitcher Rebbe, of righteous memory. The Rebbe addressed the group, and then met with each one individually. In his remarks, the Rebbe emphasized that if it seems that a human being lacks in a certain area of life, that person is granted, By the Almighty, extra and special potential, more than in other people, in order to function and excel in their lives, even greater, at times, than a “regular” person. The Rebbe, therefore, objected to referring to these soldiers as “wounded” or handicapped. Rather, they should be referred to as “Metzuyanim,” or “exceptional” ones, emphasizing their exceptional potential. [The Rebbe also preferred that in Hebrew a hospital be called a “Beit Refuah,” a place of healing (as in the English word “hospital” from “hospice”) rather than “Beit Cholim,” a place for the infirm]. These Israeli soldiers were, and are, heroes of the Jewish people. They placed their lives on the line – and the proof of their heroism was, and is, to be carried around with them for the rest of their lives. Their ordeal, however, clouded their ability to prove to themselves, and to everyone else, how much of their “extra” potential they were able to utilize. Being a leader who deeply cared about everyone, the Rebbe was encouraging them to find their potential and utilize it to function in society just as well as, or even more remarkably than, everyone else. People who find special strength to overcome difficulties, and to heroically travel through the darkest tunnels of life towards the light, are an inspiration and a pillar of uplifting strength and liveliness for those that know them. They are real heroes. This concept, our adulation, admiration, and hopefully emulation of people who do special things, is especially pertinent to this week's Parshah of “Devarim,” and to this time of the Jewish calendar year. The Parhsha for this week, the first Parshah of the Torah's fifth book, contains Moshe's words to his people some five weeks before his death. Much of the Parshah details Moshe's reprimanding the nation for their lack of faith and their ongoing rebellion against G-d and him. Yet, as the Parshah moves on, the words become less stinging and the ideas deal a lot less with the dark past and they turn, increasingly, towards a bright and optimistic future. The final words of the portion are, in fact, “Do no fear them [the enemy nations], for it is G-d who fights them for you.” The Torah will get back to the sharp, biting words of the scolding and criticism a little later. But it won't leave this Parsha before building and climbing to a positive and upbeat outlook and destiny. If the “down” doesn't lead to an “up” then the “down” is wasted energy. There should not be failures in life, just opportunities and possibilities to grow and to become wiser, stronger and even more productive in life. People ask, "But how could you see so much good in the future when so much evil predominates now – and it grows day by day?" Tomorrow night, this coming Saturday night, is the ninth day of the Hebrew month of Av. We refer to this day as “Tishah B'Av.” It is designed to be, and it is, the most miserable day in the Jewish calendar. It is a day of intense mourning for the destruction of the two Holy Temples and for Jerusalem . In addition to a 24 hour fast (like Yom Kippur), we also read lamentations, and revisit many of the troubles of the Jewish people, past and unfortunately present. The Jewish calendar doesn't usually behave this way. Our days are filled with celebrations, reflections and inspirations, not sad and miserable ones. But Tishah B'Av was not designed to merely be a day of darkness and sadness. It is a day from which we are to take strength and positive energy. There are various elements of this positive energy – which will be, with the help of G-d, the focus of next week's Good Shabbos email. As for this week, an example of something positive from the sadness of the day: The Talmud days that Tisha B'Av is the birthday of the concept of Moshiach. In other words, on the most difficult and terrible of days, we stand before G-d in prayer, and we ask of him: Just as you had the Holy Temple destroyed with fire on this day, heralding in centuries of Jewish suffering and anguish, please fulfill your prophecy and promise to rebuild this holy edifice, heralding in the days of redemption and happiness, and putting an end to Jewish – and world – suffering forever. It is specifically this dark day that provides us with the impetus to focus upon, and pray for, the arrival of Moshiach, turning the day and the world from sadness to happiness and from bitterness to sweet, in joy and gladness. Let us, then, all be heroes this weekend, and learn to look through and past the dark times, into the bright and positive future. IN TRIBUTE TO MY HERO Reflections upon the six Yahrtzeit of my friend, unforgettable Allen Tenenbaum “So, who is your hero” was the question that came my way following last week's Good Shabbos email. As a short refresher, last week the discussion was about our heroes. The Devar Torah pointed-out that we tend to consider those that have overcome great challenges in life as our heroes. It was also emphasized how people who seem to have a deficiency in one area of life are blessed, from the get-go, with added strength and potential from the Almighty. Difficulties and challenges usually bring-forth these amazing reservoirs of courage, determination and fortitude. Some curious people wanted to hear if I know anyone in particular who optimizes and exemplifies characteristics of being a hero to me. I do know people, many people actually, who are heroic. I am fortunate to really know a family, however, who I consider not just heroic, but inspirational and exemplary to me, personally. This family I consider one of my chief and most important heroes. The following thoughts are a perfect way of disclosing who this family is: There is a powerful story related in the Talmud: Rabbi Akiva and his colleagues were walking towards the Holy City of Jerusalem, when they saw the city in ruins. They all tore their garments in mourning, as Jewish law stipulates upon seeing the destruction of, or already destroyed, Jewish cities – where Jewish people once lived in the Holy Land. The anguish of these great sages increased a little later upon seeing a fox strolling where the Holy Ark once stood in the Holy of Holies in the Temple . The Sages burst into tears, but Rabbi Akiva smiled and acted happily. The Sages were shocked. "How can you laugh when animals desecrate our Holy of Holies?" Said Rabbi Akiva: "The prophets connect the fall and rise of Jerusalem . Zechariah the prophet predicted that ' Zion will be plowed under like field,' while Uria the prophet prophesied how 'elderly men and women relaxing in the streets of Jerusalem with small children happily playing nearby'... Now that the negative has actually come to pass, we can certainly anticipate the good prophecies, and they will truly be fulfilled!" The Sages conceded, saying: "Akiva, you have comforted us!" Rabbi Akiva was talking to his colleagues – some of the greatest sages and leaders the Jewish people have ever had. They were well aware of all the prophecies and predictions, both positive and negative, the Jewish people were promised. There was no real need for Rabbi Akiva to remind them of what they already knew and believed. Moreover: is Rabbi Akivah suggesting that his colleagues not mourn over the destruction of something so important and vital, let alone holy, to the Jewish people of all generations? The fact remains that for the past 1,935 years the Jewish people have witnessed the fulfillment of every difficult and invective assurance. We've had very little to rejoice about. What's Rabbi Akiva so happy about that offers comfort to his great colleagues? Rabbi Akivah was sharing with his friends, and with every one of us, an attitude and a way of life: If something comes along which seems to be negative, one must undergo the necessary actions and do what it takes to get through the negativity. One must also spend the time to mourn for a loss. But one must never lose focus and fall to despair and depression. One must always seek and find the positive and good, and take that inspiration from the tragedy and difficulty. In other words: A problem – or worse: A tragic problem – must be handled with the utmost attention and detail. But all the energy used to get through the problem, or get over the problem, can, and must, lead to increased determination and drive to stay afloat, and not allow a similar problem and issue to get in the way, and certainly not to get us down. When a person has resolved a problem, or when a person has passed the allotted time to grieve, and that person is now back to normal, it's exemplary. When such people lead an even more meaningful and productive life than before the problem, then the energy generated by the problem has been channeled to an amazing place, and is transformed into an inspiration and motivation of heroic proportions. Realizing the depth of destruction and national tragedy of losing the Beit Hamikdash, Rabbi Akivah understood and saw that through our efforts – not just tears – the Jewish people have a reason to look forward to a more glorious and positive time: The coming of Moshiach, and the building of the third Beit Hamikdash, which will be so strong and glorious that it will never be destroyed. So, despite the centuries of Jewish suffering awaiting the people, Rabbi Akiva was able to see the stamina and endurance of the Jewish people to not just survive, but also to thrive. Rabbi Akivah's attitude is similar to Moshe's request at the onset of this week's Torah portion, Va'eschanan. Moshe pleads with Hashem to allow him permission to “please go over and see this good land… The good mountain (meaning Temple Mount ) and the Lebanon .” Can a mountain be a “ Good Mountain ?” The answer is, yes – because it's not what the Mountain looks like, but how we look at the Mountain. Moshe knew and realized the difficult “mountain to climb” and challenges fraught in conquering the land and settling it with the Jewish people. But all he chose to focus upon was the “good” mountain – the goodness and positivistic aspects which come from every situation, especially from a difficult climb. I was doing some Kashrut work during this past week at “Camp Rama Darom” for the annual international Hillel leadership convention. This camp is situated about 120 miles from Atlanta , and I have commuted several times back and forth to the city. One of the people working in the kitchen is Larry. This gentleman likes his rap (I can't call it music. Sorry!) and he calls himself “Larry in the house” – whatever that means. On one of the days I was in Atlanta , Larry kept on asking for me. Members of my family told him I would be back a little later. The next time I saw Larry In The House, I asked him if there was anything I could do for him. He replied that he missed me, and that he hoped to stay in touch with even after the conference is over. I was wondering what I had done to receive this honor, and big Larry said: You make my day! It's always tense around here, and you come and loosen things up, and make everything upbeat and positive. Hey, it's a nice compliment to get, but I give much credit of this attitude to my heroes: The Tenenbaum family. This family was headed by Allen Tenenbaum. This coming Sunday, 16 Av, will mark the sixth Yahrtzeit of Allen, who was brutally torn from his family and friends in, what became known as, “The Buckhead Shootings”. I hardly met Allen himself. Yet I know so much about him through his loved ones. To know Debra , Brittany , Megan and Scott Tenenbaum, is to love them. I am privileged to know them really well. They are my heroes, and I have learned so much from them, including how to bring your most positive and best attitude to every situation. It's their only way. Perhaps all of you, my dear friends, can spend some time during the weekend, or on Sunday itself, to do a Mitzvah. If you can perhaps resolve to put on Tefillin, light the Shabbos candles, affix a Mezuzah, study some Torah, give some Tzedakah, call a parent, call a friend, make a Beracha (a blessing) on some food or drink – whatever it is – for the memory of Allen, or for the merit of his beautiful and inspirational family. In this case, you, too, can connect with the inspiration and upbeat vim of these wonderful people.
And may we all be comforted by The Almighty, in all and in any way possible, on this Shabbos called “Shabbos of comfort”, for the first words of the Haftorah, “Comfort, comfort, My people”. May this happen speedily in our days. PACKING A POSITIVE PUNCH These words stated in last week's portion are followed by the description of the activities the Jewish people should be engaged with upon entering the Holy Land . In this week's portion, however, the commandment about affixing the Mezuzah on our doorposts is followed with blessings of “long life upon the Land sworn by G-d to give to you,” and by a reference to “protection.” Indeed, our sages infer from this week's portion that the Mitzvah of Mezuzah carried an amazing benefit – besides a constant reminder of the Almighty's presence within our own homes, dwelling places and businesses: Divine Protection and guarding of our material possessions wherever we may be! Imagine: A person can be outside of the home, involved and entrenched in their own, even personal, pursuits, and that little scroll hanging from their doorposts of the home “stands guard” and looks after the person anywhere he or she may be! My dear friends! Any Mezuzah affixed upon the home, dwelling place, business, store, college dorm room, or any other place a Jewish person puts it – increases and adds Divine protection, automatically, just by it being there. It's one Mitzvah that once the work involved with it is completed, no further activity is required (other than periodically checking them to ensure their kosher status.) And the protection is not just guaranteed for ourselves. Since all Jews are inherently connected and united, the protection and benefits from this Mitzvah affects the whole “family.” I therefore humbly suggest that as an outcome of the painful feelings we all experienced during the past couple of weeks from what's happening in the Holy Land , we should all pay closer attention to one of the central Mitzvahs of this week's Torah portion: The Mitzvah of Mezuzah. If you already have one on your front door, or outside door, it would be an appropriate time to affix more on the INSIDE of your homes. Perhaps attention needs to be paid to business places. Perhaps the scrolls haven't been recently checked. Maybe you can reach out and help someone else with this Mitzvah. For more information about the ins and outs of this Mitzvah, please visit Chabad's wonderful collection of essays and articles about this Mitzvah. May we all have the strength to channel all unpleasant and difficult energies into positive and constructive areas, and may we experience only Divine protection and guarding, until we, very speedily, experience the rebuilding of our Holy Land with the coming of Moshiach, speedily in our days. Omein! Complete happiness A few weeks ago I returned from Australia , after attending the wedding of one my brothers. Being away for the most extended period of time ever from Atlanta , I have been asked, many times, "How was Australia ?" My oldest daughters and I weren't ‘Down Under' for a vacation, but whilst there, we did, indeed, visit some of the areas designated as "tourist" spots. [Those running those places must be convinced that tourists are endowed with an unending source of wealth. Maybe they assume that if folks can make it all the way to Australia , they can afford to buy the place as well…]. My response to those seeking to know “how was Australia ," is usually a cursory , "It was nice." I also usually add: "But it's good to be back." Saplings of life. They say the second time is easier and less exciting. Third time? Old hat. Tenth time? Well, that ought to be as routine and as casual as can be. Experience does, after all, have something to say, no? And so it was this past Tuesday evening, as Mrs. Lew turned to me while holding, for the very first time, our new daughter, Peninah, and with tears in her eyes said, “It doesn't matter how many have come before. It's still unbelievable.” I couldn't have put it better myself. Each of our ten children (“Kenne Horah”) entered into this world separately and distinctively. While they're all siblings, they have different first names, and different wants, needs, quirks, sensitivities and talents. And that makes the experience of having – and rearing – each child exciting, miraculous and wonderfully amazing. Never mind that I, a man of over forty years-old, was behaving like a young twenty-something year-old, with excitement and emotional elation. I am not ashamed to say that having yet another child, our tenth, makes us feel young, excited and so utterly blessed. I say, “Good for us!” I eventually had the chance to hold our daughter myself. I looked at her: So fragile, so perfect, so wrinkled, so beautiful, so inquisitive (already), and so helpless. And it's my child, a gift from the Almighty Creator of all. As any parent surely knows (and our children should as well), when holding that child for the first time, the heart is filled with unbound and inexpressible love and pride. The newborn baby is incapable of reciprocating that love the parents express for it. Yet, the baby imparts to its parents so many amazing messages and lessons. One of these lessons is about our mission in this world, and is also based on a statement in this week's Torah portion of Shoftim. The Torah presents the famous words: “Mankind is the tree of the field.” Many explanations are offered as to the connection between humans and trees. Here's one I would like to offer, especially as it's enlightened by this week's Simchah with the birth of another Jewish child. A healthy tree must synthesize the four material elements identified by Jewish sources as the makeup of the world: Earth – for its roots; water – for its existence; wind – for respiration and carbon dioxide for photosynthesis (the process of trees “breathing”); fire (warmth and sunlight) – for the chemical reaction to activate photosynthesis, essential to the tree's growth and development. Between pregnancy and birth, a human being also synthesizes these four elements: While inside the womb, the fetus is surrounded with water and insulated with fire (warmth and heat) – both essential elements to ensure survival. Upon birth, the newborn is introduced to the earth and to oxygen (wind). [When these elements are not synthesized and balanced correctly, we get destruction as in the recent devastating hurricane Katrina, or the tsunami experienced a few months ago, or earthquakes, wind storms, heat waves, etc.]. These four elements, common to trees and humans, represent our Jewish lives. Earth represents our “roots”, and the grounds upon which our ancestors trod and tilled. Water, the basic element of life, represents the Torah – the essential element of the Jewish people. Wind, needed for movement and “spirit”, represents the characteristics of the individual's personality, making each person special and unique. The observance of G-d's commandments, are performed with, and through, these characteristics. Fire, needed for heat and warmth, represents the spiritual element within us: our Neshamah, our soul. Although we share the above commonality with the trees, there is a noted difference. The tree has its earth and water at its submerged base; its wind and fire at its revealed section. The newborn, on the other hand, has its water and fire in its “base” and concealed stage, and wind and earth in the revealed stage. Why the difference? Our tradition teaches that, in preparation for facing the world, the fetus in its mother's womb is taught the entire Torah by its specially-designated heavenly angel. In other words, the fetus is surrounded and imbued by its “water” (Torah) and “fire” (heavenly connection). After nine months, the baby emerges into the world “soaked” with spirituality. The human being is now ready to complete the process of bridging the gap between the spiritual and physical. The child, having been introduced to the world, begins working on its “wind” element – as it spends the rest of life perfecting its personality and its observances – and on its “earth” element, making a difference and an impact upon the world with the help and in the merit of those who came before him or her. The purpose of a tree, on the other hand, is to inspire us to keep our feet planted firmly on the ground and aspire to the heavens, keeping and staying strong and solid, enduring and not wavering. The tree, therefore, grows upwards until its highest leaves and branches stretch towards the “heat” of the sun. Despite our minor differences, mankind is, indeed, the tree of the field. We share very similar goals, just slightly different focuses. As human beings with intelligence, we specifically look towards the trees so similar to us, for inspiration and for divine guidance, Just as we do with a newborn. The baby cannot say anything, comprehend anything, and do anything with its physical faculties. But what an impact it makes just by its mere presence! As we observe the newborn baby, we hope and pray that it will embrace the wind element – performing good deeds, while impacting the “earth”, fortified with the water (Torah) and fire (soul) elements already experienced. All the while, blooming and blossoming from a young sapling into a solid and unshakable tree of life, spreading its leaves and nourishment to all its surroundings. In the meantime, the parents, and hopefully all their dear friends, will be inspired by the blessing of another Jewish child, and will be impacted to add more strength and durability to each other and to the world. And hopefully, those who still can will be inspired to having another one – or more – child. There's nothing like another child to inspire us and to bring more Bracha, additional blessing, into our lives and into the world. Mazal Tov! Good luck! Working together We've all surely been to weddings. When thinking of weddings, the usual comes to mind: Ceremony, flowers, pictures, music, dancing, family, smiles and, of course, food and drink. The wedding I recently attended included all the above. But I was there to supervise the food, ensuring that all was Kosher and the law was followed properly. I was going to spend the majority of the wedding celebration in the kitchen where action of a different kind was taking place: catering. It was the first time I had ever been "behind the scenes" at a wedding, and it was amazing to behold what it takes to make a wedding look so elegant and festive. The head chef spent almost an hour arranging the plate with the menu items he prepared: Should the grilled vegetables be on the right side, left side, middle, under the rice near the chicken, on top of the rice near the chicken, or maybe just near the chicken, but not near the rice? Over and again the chef and his helpers experimented until, with a sideways glance and the nodding of heads, he was satisfied with the presentation. Real tension began to build as time began to creep-by, bringing us ever so close to repast time. Waiters began to assemble; chefs stirred their pots one more time; overseers made sure the ovens were to exact temperature. Workers, ten to a table, serving utensils in hand, were getting ready to dish out the food. People were running, bosses were yelling orders, somber faces, sleeves rolled-up, dishes ready. And then: Pandemonium! Large pots, pans and containers of food were passed to their allotted places. Carefully, but deftly and swiftly, the fare was placed on the plate by the assigned worker, according to the precise measurement and correct location on the plate. The plate was then passed to the next worker, then to the next. In a few seconds, the dish looked attractive and festive and was then transported to the guests at the wedding. Amid the desperate cries of “more rice”; “vegetables please”; “I need gravy”; I understood the merit of waiting till the last minute to prepare these plates instead of dishing the food any earlier. Prepared any earlier, the food may have been less warm and consequently not as tasty. It required the incredible efforts of this large team to have everything prepared just right. In eight minutes, over 200 people had been served. In the words of one of the lead people of the team: “I have 200 mouths which are hungry no more. I feel very satisfied.” Standing to the side of this fracas, I was mainly an observer. As such I was expecting that, due to the harsh words exchanged by the workers during these frenzied few minutes, heads would roll. But I was assured that I was witnessing the standard behavior. It all boils down to an intense few minutes, during which over 30 people team-up. The collective power and energy of this many individuals pooled together was able to pull-off an amazing feat: Feeding hundreds of mouths in record time. The combination of various forces creates incredible energy. Harnessed properly, this energy can achieve great accomplishments. It seems strange, therefore, to encounter in this week's Torah portion of “Ki Tetze” restrictions on combining various diverse items. For example: The Torah forbids the fusion of certain hybrid species of plants or among animals. A garment may not contain the mixture of wool and linen threads. The restricted mixture of meat and dairy is familiar to all. One would assume that the Torah would encourage us to combine, as much as possible, various worldly materials, so we could harness the great energy generated by “teamwork.” After all, shouldn't we “give peace a chance?” Combining and mixing together is an option and is encouraged only when the opposites are compatible and congenial. When the blended energies of two diverse forces, or even opposite ones, create a positive and a harmonious reaction, the Torah is all for it, for this combination causes true peace between the elements. Certain matter, however, is incapable of positively mixing with other matter. The combined energy of this fusion would produce energy that is spiritually incompatible, and the results would not be positive. Just like mixing orange flavor and milk causes a mix-up and a perversion of the flavors, it's similar in a spiritual sense: Anything incompatible is discouraged. The Torah and its Divine Author are all about peace. Peace between heaven and earth, between spirituality and the corporeal, between body and soul. True peace, though, is only when the role of each side doesn't get discounted and swallowed-up by the other. It's when the rice fits together with the chicken, and the vegetables act as a complement to the flavor of the gravy. The generated result is a beautiful and elegant wedding feast. By lumping together two adverse and conflicting materials, such as meat and dairy for a Jewish person, one produces a spiritual mismatch. There's no chance for peace in such a case. The Torah is doing us a favor in keeping this clash away from us. Teamwork is the key to success – at home, at work, on the playing field, in our spiritual lives, and in preparing for the wedding. We just need to find the right teammates, and we'll become the winning team, producing the best and winning results. BE HAPPY! Bumping into the man with a menacing look last week was quite a surprise for me. His shaved and bald head did nothing to make him look more appealing, and did everything to make him look even more out of place. And yes, the place had a lot to do with it, since I stumbled upon him as he was rummaging through the stock-room in the dairy kitchen at our Chabad Shul. I gulped, managed a smile, and asked the fellow: Can I help you please? He looked up and said in Hebrew: “I am from the Consulate, and I'm looking for any ‘bad guys.'” Truth be told, I thought this fellow may have been a ‘bad guy' himself since I wasn't aware of the Israeli Consulate doing its business at our Shul that evening. Of course, it didn't take too long to verify this guy's claim, as dozens of Israeli-Atlanta couples began to assemble that evening. Outside, a flourish of activity was taking place. Tall, thin men, bald-headed as well, were directing traffic in and out of the parking lot, flashlights, walkie-talkies, and other ‘gear' in their hands. Israeli security is different; the whole world knows that. They take no chances and they do so thoroughly and completely. On various occasions, the Consul General himself has visited our Chabad Shul in order to pray. And yes, he has his “boys” with him then as well. No monkey business – and they mean it. As I later thought about the guy in the kitchen, I wondered about Israelis and security. Does it have to be like this? All the time? I tried to contrast Sunday night's experience at the Shul with my Friday afternoon's experience. I was shopping at the local Kroger Supermarket. Coming down one of the aisles towards me was Dan Reeves. He was looking for something to purchase and was dragging his wobbly legs until he found what he was looking for in the newly-arranged supermarket. [Dan Reeves, a native Georgian, was a star Football player who later became a football coach, most recently of the Atlanta Falcons Football team. In other words, this is a man known by face to tens of millions of Americans.] Such a famous person, known especially in Georgia by so many, and yet, Mr. Reeves walks around in a local store like any other ‘John Smith.' Anyone from Israel , Consul General included, is much less known here in the United States . The Israeli, though, must take all those security precautions, while other much more famous “targets” just go about their lives without concern: Not one person stopped Mr. Reeves at the store to talk, seek an autograph, etc. It's surely safe to say that despite the necessary security, we all feel that we have much to be thankful and happy for regarding the Holy Land of Israel being in the hands of Jewish people. We would certainly welcome the capacity to blend into society like coach Reeves, but weighing-up the options leaves us with great pride and joy that the land is in our hands. It's pretty obvious to see the positives and feel the joy of having the land in Jewish hands – although there are negative elements therein. But it's not always easy for us to see the good side of things in our own lives. We would be so much better off if we were able to distinguish and identify all the good granted to us – if only it would be that easy! It's interesting that when the Torah introduces the Mitzvah of “Bikurim” – the Mitzvah of presenting the first-grown produce to the Almighty – in this week's portion of “Ki Savo,” the Torah adds a requirement following the actual ceremony: “Be happy with all the good which G-d has given to you.” The mere fact of an instruction to be happy indicates two points: 1) Being happy is a condition which may not necessarily be apparent. 2) There may be legitimate reasons not to feel like being happy. Nonetheless, we are encouraged: Be happy! The importance of focusing upon the good and joyful is underscored even more towards the conclusion of the portion. Following a litany of invective and severely unnerving words directed to the Jewish people in the event they abandon their special mission of observing G-d's commandments, the Torah says the following: “(All these curses will befall you) for you have not served G-d with joy and gladness of the heart while you had plenty.” Happiness and joy are very important and special, but does a lack of happiness trigger and cause such awful curses? What the Torah is saying, I believe, is that focusing on the negatives of life is a curse onto itself. It's true that in life there are positives and negatives, ups and downs, good and not so good, and maybe even worse than “not so good.” But living a life focused on the positive helps to make life itself a wonderful blessing. Moreover, focusing solely on the positives of life, allows a person to look at the adverse parts of life also as opportunities from which to learn and to grow. Earlier this week, I met with a couple who have a fair amount of difficulties in their marriage. It wasn't a happy meeting: there were tears, accusations, blame, and imagining what could have been versus what is. It wasn't a simple case, as long as they were continuing to dwell on the negatives and the wrongs of their relationship. A breakthrough was achieved when I suggested that there are no failures in life, just opportunities. I hope they realize that, if utilized properly, even the mistakes made in their lives can help to make things stronger and more joyful. As we stand in the waning days of the Jewish year, we tend to look back at the past and resolve to apply lessons learned to the coming year. Although we have all made our share of mistakes during the year, if applied correctly, these misjudgments can help make the coming year a better and more joyous one. It's of critical importance to go through life with a positive and joyous attitude. It's the secret to the success of Israel , and it's also the best formula to introduce blessing and joy into our lives and into the New Year. NITZAVIMFINDING OURSELVES The last flight of the day from New York to Atlanta employs the big plane. Many people travel at this popular time. On a Sunday night, it's even busier. Weekends in New York must be attractive to many people from Atlanta . This past Sunday night I was one of those hundreds of passengers jammed at the gate to Atlanta in La Guardia airport. A group of us had traveled to New York from Atlanta in preparation, both spiritual and material, for the upcoming New Year. Now, tired but contented, we joined the many hundreds assembled at the gate to fly back South. As we were about to embark, we found ourselves right behind two elderly Southern ladies – of all the hundreds of people on our flight. The women shared with us that this was their second time in their lives they were flying. The first time was about 25 years ago. These women were muttering and shaking their heads. One of them said, a distinct southern twang in her accent: “It's about time we leave this evil city.” I looked at the lady; she was tired and upset. It turns out they'd just returned from Turkey early that morning, had been in two different airports all day, and were at wits end. They really wanted, and needed, to get back home as quickly as possible. I felt bad for the poor ladies, but felt much better when I saw that their seats on the plane were pretty close to the door. When the plane lands, I thought, at least they'll be able to get off faster than me and get home more quickly. After what they'd been through, it was only befitting and fair for these ladies to get home as soon as possible. But being elderly meant that by the time we landed and arrived at the inter-airport train station to be transported to the baggage-claim area, the ladies had just arrived as well. They were in a much better mood after resting on the plane, but they looked confused. It didn't take long to figure out why: These women had never been on the automatic train, and they wanted to know how the train driver knows where to drop them off. I knew there was a good reason we bumped into these women a second time. I was glad to be present and able to help these sweet women. I assured them that the train would take them to their correct destination and escorted them to the baggage carousel. It's amazing what a little knowledge and sharing of information can do to a person's demeanor. How relieved these women were after sharing just some reassuring words with them! It didn't cost us anything, not even time, but they looked like someone just gave them a big treasure. I'm sure all of you, my dear friends, have come across a similar situation, whereby you've had the opportunity to provide assistance to people just in passing. For example, giving directions to a lost person; giving a ride to someone going the same way as you; transporting a package for someone. These small acts usually mean very little for the person performing them, but very much to the person on whose behalf they are performed. Opportunities to do good and helpful things are close-by to us constantly. According to this week's Torah portion, “Nitzavim,” the observance of Torah and its commandments are also in that category of being very relevant and close to every Jew. In the words of this week's portion, “The Torah and its precepts I command you about today are not far or distant from you; neither are they in the heavens… or over the sea… Rather, the thing is very close to you, in your mouths (speech), in your hearts (thought) and in action.” The nature of a human being, though, doesn't seem to consider the observance of Judaism as quite an “easy” or “close” phenomenon. In Yiddish they say: S'iz Shver Tzu Zayn A Yid – it's hard to be a (practicing) Jew… Yet, the Torah seems to ignore the reality of the difficulties! No, the Torah isn't living in denial. Rather, the Torah is addressing the ultimate reality and truth. In the heart and soul of every single Jew, in his or her essence, there is an amazing connection to the Almighty and to His commandments. A Jew is never considered distant from Torah and from its observance since the soul, the essence, is permeated with spirituality, holiness and G-dliness. The only reason people may think it's difficult to practice Judaism is because of a blockage of some “dust” which may cover-up the connection of the Jew and his or her true essence. But “dust” is just something that can be easily blown away. Alternatively, one can bump into someone who has knowledge of the proper “platform” and right “directions,” and then things are cleared up pretty easily. And once the “dust” clears, one will see that the connection was always there, and always close, “very” close, to the person. Standing a few short days before Rosh Hashanah as we are, when we are about to reaffirm our connection and commitment to our Father in heaven, may the “blow” of the Shofar expose the truth for us all: We are all children of our Father. As such, we are innately and deeply close to, and loved before Hashem. In turn, may we all be accorded from our Father, the King, a sweet year of blessings for health, success and Nachas. TORAH AND THE JEWS: WHAT A SHIDDUCH! A long lost friend called the other day. I don't believe I've had a real conversation with this guy in over ten years. The person was calling, on his own behalf and on behalf of his wife and son, about a “Shidduch.” This friend has a son of marriageable age, another person has a daughter. Some people think that these two would make a good couple, and there has been some interest in bringing these two individuals together. Before that happens, however, both of the families want to know a thing or two: Is she nice, sweet and kind? Is he good, fine and gentle? Is he wise, considerate and funny? Is she smart, compassionate and witty? And what about the families of the prospective –the father, mother, sister brother? And so on and so forth. This process, whereby all efforts are made to discover information about prospective individuals prior to their meeting each other, is extremely useful and beneficial to the people involved. By gathering information from knowledgeable people, the families have a better chance to see if their two children have common goals, and if they are indeed suitable for each other. Once the information is gathered and the families both feel positive based on the reports from all of their sources, the two individuals will meet. It is hoped that the two will become comfortable enough with each other, and that there will be good chemistry between the two. Ultimately, it is exclusively in the hands of the boy and the girl to make any decisions regarding their own future. The parents, looking out for the best interest of their children, do what they can to help the process along. Hence the phone call I received this week. Participating in the Shidduch process by answering queries is something I get to do quite often. [As an aside: A very minimal percentage of these marriages end in divorce. Probably less than 3%. These successes are due to various factors, one of them being the groundwork and investment by the families prior to any meetings between the prospective girl and boy.] When I hung-up the phone after about half an hour, I felt grateful for the opportunity to converse with my friend. But, Oy, the questions! None of my children are of marriageable age yet. I know that when the time comes, Mrs. Lew and I will be wondering about the nature of their mates and their families just as much as this guy was wondering. Right now, though, it is so interesting, and sometimes amusing, to field the various queries and probing these people put forth! No two individuals are alike. One of the reasons man and woman were created separately – while the rest of creation was formed with both partners – is because each and every individual human being is different, unique and indispensable. When two different people are brought together in the union of holy matrimony, it can never be taken for granted that this bond be unbreakable and enduring. Once, of course, the union is solidified, and both partners are working on meeting their shared goals, the family becomes just that: A unit, a home, a family. A main phenomenon in all successful relationships and marriages is the foundation. If the union is based on a solid foundation then even “cracks” in the structure would not bring it down. For the Jewish person and family, the Torah is the foundation and centerpiece of the home. It's unshakable, unbreakable and is the perfect place from which a Jewish family can build their home. It's interesting that the final Mitzvah in the Torah – Mitzvah number 613 – recorded in this week's portion of “Vayelech,” is that every person is obligated to write their own Sefer Torah, to write their own, personal Torah scroll. Perhaps we can glean the above lesson for this Mitzvah: The purpose of each person having his or her own Torah is to be able to study from it. According to Jewish law, therefore, this Mitzvah of writing a Torah for oneself is also fulfilled when each Jewish person, certainly every Jewish home, is in possession of Jewish books from which to study and to pray, such as a Torah, a Siddur, a Tehillim (book of Psalms), etc. Yet, the Torah introduces this Mitzvah by stating that each person should “write” his or her own Torah, for writing is very unique. No handwriting is the same. Each person's hand writes differently. As any graphologist will substantiate, the difference in handwriting is because each individual person sees things differently, uniquely and with their own perspective. So each individual Jewish home gets their own “handwritten” Torah. It remains in the home as the foundation of the home, of the family and of the marriage. It also has the “handwriting” contributions and expressions of the individuals of the family, uniting and bringing together different entities and beings in the same book. The final directive and recommendation of the Torah is of unity of the Jewish family. The Torah is asking of us to use it, and use it well. For in it and with it we have everything we need to survive: intellect, spirituality, G-dliness, family, unity and a link between all our brothers and sisters, from today and from yesteryear, all while maintaining our uniqueness and individuality. SUITABLE HUMILITY According to Jewish tradition, preparing the deceased for burial in anticipation of meeting his or her Maker is called “Chessed Shel Emes”, or the ultimate and true kindness. It's the only time a person performs a special deed for someone else while not expecting compensation from the recipient of this deed. Performing the Jewish rituals and customs on the deceased – some of which are continued since biblical times – can be a very rewarding experience. No matter how many times a person may have performed this special kindness to his or her fellow human being, it's always unique. Being involved in the burial society, the “Chevra Kadisha,” at my Shul is very rewarding. I was trained in this area during my post rabbinic studies, and now, training others in this field allows me not just continue learning for myself, but also to observe and learn from the special experiences of the members of our Chevra Kadisha, of our “society.” But it also leads to some interesting cases. One of the cardinal rules of Jewish law in preparing the body for burial involves the shrouds. There are many laws and customs regarding these garments. One of these laws: everyone wears exactly the same outfit regardless of who he or she was during their lifetime. Whether the person can afford to buy the most expensive material or suit in the world or cannot even afford the very plain and nondescript white cotton costume, all are dressed in the same manner when it's their time. The reason for this law of uniformity in dress for the deceased is to ensure equality among all Jewish people. No one should be embarrassed by having less than the other. Wearing the simple and plain outfit also imparts a feeling of humility and subjection. While embarking on the final journey to the world of truth, every physical person does so while garbed in the same, simple way, taking basically nothing with them to the grave. As part of our training for our congregation, the local Jewish funeral home contacts us to prepare the unaffiliated for burial. Earlier this week, we were called to prepare a Russian immigrant for his final journey. There was a stipulation from the family, however: He was to be buried in his favorite suit. It is obviously unacceptable for us to violate the clear law regarding the shrouds. While remaining sensitive to the situation on hand, the family was explained the law and its reasons, and we managed to come to a resolution accordingly. [Incidentally, most families who request that something be done with a departed loved-one contrary to the law do so while thinking on “human” terms. It's hard, though, to realize that Jewish law takes into consideration not just the human side of the person, but also the spiritual and G-dly side. The departed one is, after all, leaving this world and passing-on to the spiritual world!]. Humility and equality are not always everyone's strength. Especially when a family wants to ensure the head of their family, their “leader,” is treated properly. If people, especially leaders, would realize that although a leader must demonstrate authority, superiority and control, these strengths are required solely for demonstrative purposes. The leader must never allow these exhibitive traits to get to his or her head and personality. As Joshua was poised to become the Jewish people's second leader following Moshe's passing, this week's Torah portion, Ha'azinu, refers to him by the name “Hoshea,” the name he had prior to becoming a great person and leader. Of all places in the Torah, one would expect to find Joshua's name in its complete form in this week's portion, since he's just assumed leadership of the Jewish people. As the commentaries explain, though, Joshua never allowed all the leadership and confidence to get to his head. He remained the same “old” person before and after his vaunted position. Everyone is a leader in some capacity. At the work place, in the home, in the community, in the classroom, wherever. Society would be better off if we all remembered that positions of power and strength are our opportunities to make a contribution and a difference in this world. At the same time, however, leadership and the ability to be great are granted by the Almighty. Taking advantage of the position, assuming personal credit, and thinking: “Look, the Almighty G-d chose ME to be the leader”, only weakens the effectiveness of the person's ability to get the job done. The most beloved leaders are the humble ones. They are the most effective ones, too. These leaders empower all their followers to be leaders as well, while hopefully maintaining their own degree of humility. The greatest leaders and the biggest followers all leave this world the same way. Those who accomplish the most in this world, however, are remembered for their ability to be effective leaders by humbly attributing their power to the All Powerful One.
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