Good Shabbos Emails

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TZUNAMI

SHMOS

Someone who is involved with our Chabad activities in Conyers , Georgia , related to me an amazing story which happened last week with a her and a friend, who is also involved in the activities.

They were sitting in a movie theater awaiting the featured presentation, and talking about "Shul". All of a sudden, the woman sitting in the row in front of them said: Did you just say Shul? "Yes, we did", was the reply. The lady couldn't believe it, especially after they told her that they were involved in a Jewish discussion group right there, in Conyers!

The woman said she has been living in Conyers for all these years, and she'd never met a Jewish person. Out of lonely frustration she visited a church from time to time, and felt the influence creeping in. She realized, however, that it's the wrong place and way for her to go, and she prayed to G-d. She cried bitter tears, earlier that day, begging G-d to show her some Jewish sign. And here, a few hours later, in a movie theater of all places, 2 women are discussing Jewish things!

Needless to say, the woman has been invited to our discussion class, which is currently on a short winter break.

Later this week, a Shul member called our Shul. He said he wanted to resign his membership because he's angry at G-d for allowing the great disaster in the Far East .

Two people from the same State who believe in the same G-d. One prays to G-d in a quest to be more G-dly; the other screams at the same G-d, in a quest to be more G-dly.

You see, they both believe in G-d - especially the guy who's angry at G-d. For if he didn't believe there in a G-d, at whom is he directing his anger?

He just doesn't understand the mysterious ways of G-d. None of us do, but they are mysterious all right. Imagine: While about 150,000 humans are about to die in a most unimaginable tragedy, G-d is listening - AND ANSWERING - a lonely woman's prayers.

Like everyone else, I was also awestruck by the devastation and destruction caused by the recent tsunami waves from the ocean. The loss of life is simply staggering, with the number rising steadily from hour to hour. This is a tragedy of immense proportions that has cast its pall over an entire universe .

There is much that can be said for the display of Divine might, manifest in the forces of nature, which has been witnessed. We were brutally reminded that this world is still guided by powerful, unseen forces. These forces, engineered directly by G-d, are a humbling reminder of our own human vulnerability, and there is, indeed, a grater Master of this universe.

What about the immense loss of life, the suffering survivors, the bereaved relatives and friends? Why?

I don't profess to have the answer to this dilemma. As a believer, I know as absolute fact that G-d is benevolent, compassionate and good. As mentioned, trying to understand His mysterious ways is an impossibility; I just know and believe that it's G-d's world, and He has the greatest understanding of all how to run it.

Instead, let's concentrate on the possible lessons to be gained from the tsunami waves.

Intriguingly, one of the biggest needs required by the survivors is – water! Here we have tens of thousands of people who have escaped the wrath of the mighty water, and in a twisted irony, all they yearn for is water!

Water is a fascinating compound, with different dimensions. We all recognize its life-giving character, since life cannot survive without it. It's amazing, though, that of all weeks, this week's Torah portion is the one that clearly demonstrates water's unusual and contradictory qualities: We are taught that Pharaoh uses water for the worst of all things, as he decrees that water would be the method by which all male newborn children would be put to death. But then the same water is utilized to save Moses' life.

Moreover, the well of water was the place Moshe meets his future, as he discovers (and helps) his bride to be and that source of water. And to make matters even more interesting, water is later used as a means to prove the authenticity of G-d, when one of the signs that G-d sends Moses to the Jewish people to redeem them from Egypt is when water is miraculously changed into blood.

Water is featured prominently in the various stories of the Patriarchs, Abraham, Isaac and Jacob, as well as with our ancestors in Egypt , after the exodus from Egypt (splitting of the sea), and in the desert.

Essentially, water is like any central object or being in the world: it has duality. Most of the time it adds life, therapy, hygiene and entertainment. It even has the power to purify the one who was ritually impure. Occasionally, however, it is used in a different, more menacing way. It does so at the command of a Supreme Commander – G-d.

If we adapt this idea into our own lives, then it's easy to see how we as individuals possess these same qualities, albeit in different dimensions. We can choose to be productive or destructive; life givers or life takers; kind or pitiless. The choice is ours, as the masters of choice. When we as individuals resolve to cure the world's ills then we are truly partners in creation. Otherwise, we knock ourselves and others further back. We definitely have what it takes to make enormous decisions.

There is a further lesson, too. The water of the sea is seemingly tranquil and enjoyable. But when the waves pick up strength and speed it becomes a force and an energy unparalleled. The combined efforts of the water, rise in unison to create an unstoppable momentum.

The lesson is clear. When we work together in unity, an unstoppable force is formed. Some choose to do so in destructive acts of terrorism that cause heartache and pain to many. On the other hand, just look at the outpouring of assistance and kindness to the many victims of the recent disaster to clearly see the beautiful qualities inherent in us when we really make the effort.

Jewish tradition maintains that good is infinitely more powerful than the opposite. The great Maimonides (whose 800th Yahrtzeit is this Shabbos) reminds us of how each action adds up to the grand total, which has the power to bring relief and salvation or the opposite.

As we mourn the immense loss of life, and as we pray for the many who are wounded and bereaved, let us also make a resolution for good, so that the event does not merely remain a news item of historical record, but as a change for good.

And yes, even one deed, by even one single individual, does count. Imagine the energy created if everyone in this world would resolve to commit even one single good act.

As the power of various energies of the universe, led by G-d, has jarred us awake, let us resolve to unite together as a power that will attempt to solve the poverty, evil and misery that exists. This action will surely bring sanity and calm to the universe.

Our partnership with G-d's Creation will then be realized to its completion for all to see.

And then all suffering, misery and death will be gone. Forever.

(Based on an article by my brother, Rabbi Mendy Lew, of London , England )

ARE YOU A BEST DRESSED JEW?

BESHALACH

Last Friday night I was in pretty bad shape. My system was concentrating all its energies to defeat some type of virus that had picked a fight with me. The battle was raging, and I was the worse off for it.

Battle , I say, and that's what it felt like. For as my head was pounding, eyes burning and chest tightening, I knew I had to desperately conclude my affairs of the day so I can melt into bed, but as I was on the verge of doing just that, the battle intensified.

No, the battle was not just about my personal hostilities and struggles in my body, but it was also one of my daughters who was squabbling (lovingly, of course) with her mother regarding a skirt.

And my head continued to pound.

I was about to intervene in complete dismissal of this other battle over a silly skirt. But I did still have my wits about me. Is a skirt really "silly"?

Earlier last week I was talking to my brother, Mendy, the leading Rabbi of the Southend communities in South England . We discussed his "Good Shabbos" message to his community, regarding the flap over Prince Harry and his distastefulness and insensitivity. It was a great article regarding the importance of clothing, but one I didn't think would be relevant to us living on the other side of the pond.

But the story hasn't gone away from anywhere. The reaction of the world in general, and the Jewish world in particular, ranges from horror, to indignation, to at least disappointment. A Nazi uniform, of all things? How could he be so stupid, insensitive, malicious?

One may wonder, however, what is everyone so caught-up on? It's just a silly costume! Does anyone think that Prince Harry is really a Nazi? Does someone consider Prince Harry a representative of an evil regime that almost decimated the country he may be king of one day (Oy Vei!)? Can't we just dismiss this incident as a "silly costume"?

I don't think anyone would quite accept this excuse. No, wearing such a garment did, and should, evoke the outcry it did.

And the battle raged on. And I couldn't stop either one, not the one inside my head and energy-bereft body, and not the one outside of it, either. But I had to do something. The skirt being "silly" would not work; remember, garments are not "silly".

I solved the problem as best I could, using-up some more precious energy in the process, while becoming a little wiser.

You see, far than being silly, garments and clothing are holy. After G-d created Adam and Eve, and after they sinned by eating from the tree, the Torah states that G-d prepared for them garments of leather, and He dressed them. An eternal lesson is imparted with this story: Just as the human body is holy, the first one's being fashioned by G-d Almighty Himself, so too, the garments which enwrap this holy body are also sacred, the first one's being fashioned - and applied - by G-d Almighty Himself.

Of all the world's creatures, mankind is the only one dressed. And for a good reason: We are the only creatures granted the chance and choice to become sacred and G-dly. Appropriate attire gives us the opportunity to become sanctified. Inappropriate apparel compromises that opportunity.

I was recently asked by a woman who seemed bitter why Jewish law concentrates many of its modesty laws towards women. She was having a tough time accepting my responses until I brought up the above point about holiness. The more holy the body, the more proper modesty reveals it. Indeed, Judaism considers the body holy, but the woman's body as sacred.

Our sages relate that the Jewish people were redeemed from Egypt in the merit of 3 central observances. One of these merits: Despite the enormous pressures and pain of slavery, they had steadfastly clung to their clothing with its focus on modesty. Yet, upon their exodus, the people were commanded by G-d to request from their Egyptian neighbors' gold, silver and... garments. Imagine the nation finally traveling from Egypt - as related in this week's Torah portion - and after 200 years of stubbornly sticking to their own uniform, are transporting Egyptian clothing - at the behest of G-d Almighty!

Perhaps G-d commanded the nation to request Egyptian garments not in order to wear them, but in order to act as reminders as to what opened the door to freedom: Their full control over what they wore and how they presented themselves.

Clothing does define us: the Mali-carrier's uniform mustn't resemble the doctor's, neither can the farmer's parallel the store manager's. We look so much better when we are attired appropriately, not to flaunt our bodies, but to reveal our holiness and G-dliness.

IT'S A WOMAN'S WORLD

YISRO

In honor and in profound recognition of the 17th Yahrtzeit of Rebbetzen Chayah Mushkah Scneersohn, wife of the Lubavitcher Rebbe, of blessed memory, this coming Tuesday .

I am wifeless this weekend!

Rebbetzen Lew has taken 3 of our daughters with her to New York , for the International Chabad women's convention. They will join about 2,500 women and girls from all over the world, gathering in New York for their annual convention.

And that leaves me wifeless, which, believe me, hits you about as soon as it happens!

Yes, I know I have no right to complain, because it's her turn: About 3 months ago, one of our sons and I traveled to New York for the men's convention, and this weekend is when the women get their due. No sympathy for me! Besides, the children are mine as they are hers!

But somehow it's a little less complicated for the woman to act as the Daddy as well, as it is for the Daddy to be also the Mommy.

Mommies know that all too well also. In fact, no matter how much I try, the house never seems as good and clean as it was before Mommy left. And it usually isn't...

Daddies just don't make good Mommies. I am wifeless, indeed, and while I am happy that Mrs. Lew will surely be enjoying herself in New York , I'm not happy about the void back in Atlanta .

What would we be without the woman? Where would the world be? What would Judaism and the Torah look like without the incredible Jewish wife and mother?

According to this week's Torah portion, Judaism and the Torah wouldn't get very far without the woman.

When commanding the instructions for the process of giving the Torah, and while imparting crucial information regarding various precepts, G-d Almighty told Moshe, "So shall you 'say' to the 'house of Jacob', and 'tell' the sons of Israel '".

The double expression - "house" and "sons" - provides an interesting topic of commentary. Our sages intone that instructions were provided to two types of people: "House" refers to the Jewish women (as they are the "mainstay of the house"), and the "sons" refers to the men.

But the instructions were given differently. To the women, the Torah records that G-d says: say. To the men: Tell.

The difference between the two expressions depends on the style and content. "Saying" implies softness and passive, gentle behavior. "Telling", on the other hand, indicates being 'told' what to do, and "laying the law down".

From the above one may think that the women were only told the "easy stuff", as they are "too fragile"; the "macho men" were told everything "like it is"!

Our sages, though, feel otherwise.

While it's the true that the men had to hear many more details of various commandments since they are required to perform many more commandments than the women (Tefillin, Tzitzis, more prayer and Torah study - are some Mitzvos that come to mind), nonetheless, the women were given the fundamentals and the basis of Judaism: The keeping of Kosher, the laws of family purity, educating the children for the next generation, and other Mitzvos upon which Judaism is based.

It's not a matter of being "gentle", it's a whole other and different focus. One can say that the women are like the "managers", whose job is not to micro-manage every single little detail. The women are the ones who ensure that Judaism continues to survive, to grow and to continue.

Is there any further question why the religion of Judaism is based, exclusively and specifically, on the religion of the mother?

Yes, the women are given precedence when Judaism was about to become a religion. The women were the first ones to hear about their mission and role: Make it work!

And they have been completely and thoroughly successful in this mission until this very day.

Can I get some sympathy now, in this wifeless weekend?

STRANGERS IN THE LIGHT

MISHPATIM

Auschwitz was at the top of the leading news stories last week, when some world-leaders gathered at the death camp to mark 60 years since its liberation by the Russians.

As I looked at the pictures in the newspapers and on websites, I noticed the heavy snow and bitter cold, mingled with the solemn faces and stark background. I looked particularly closely at varied footage from the ceremony, since I intend to be at Auschwitz myself, in May. I'm pretty sure, however, that by the month of May in Poland , the snow will have melted and the cold dissipated. During the month of May, the weather is supposed to be pleasant; I don't think anything else will be pleasant.

Things weren't pleasant last week, though. Not even the weather. When I looked at the pictures, I envisioned thousands of victims, in flimsy striped uniforms, freezing to the core during these harsh, Polish months. I was trying to imagine what it felt to be in one of those infamous barracks with no heat, crammed 5-6 to a "bed", desperately attempting to create and share body heat from frozen bones.

Sitting in the comfort of my warm house, it wasn't possible to even imagine the cold, let alone the rest of the horrors of that awful place.

Rabbi Yosef Weinberg - who is a relative of mine - was on a plane that made an unscheduled stop in Germany without his knowing. Rabbi Weinberg's parents and immediate family were all slaughtered by the barbaric murderers, and he is lucky to be alive, having escaped in the last minute. Stepping foot in Germany , a country representative of his parents' blood, was unthinkable to this victim. The Rabbi made it known that he did not want to get off the plane or talk to any officials, although it was a number of years after the holocaust.

Most of us have never been victims of such magnitude, but we have met those who were. We can understand and accept a victim who is bitter and unforgiving. After all, he or she experienced something we can't even imagine; we can't even imagine the bitterness of the cold or the harshness of the snow.

Yet life does go on. As strange as it may sound, I have some very close personal friends and classmates, living in Germany today, engaged in Chabad's extensive activities with the tens of thousands of Jews living there. Some of those Rabbis appeared in the news pictures last week. I'm sure Rabbi Weinberg wouldn't mind they're there. I actually believe that, in fact, Rabbi Weinberg is very proud of these Chabad Rabbis.

Because this is the Jewish way.

You see, the Jewish nation have known bitter exiles. Of the better known, is the Egyptian exile. We eat bitter herbs at the Passover Seder each year to help us remember and reenact that bitter and terrible time.

After their exodus, the nation had every reason in the world to hold a terrible grudge towards the Egyptian people, their taskmasters. One would imagine that if an Egyptian dared - or was stupid enough - to hang around Jews, he'd be in for some bitter revenge.

Against these thoughts, says the Torah in this week's portion of Mishpatim, "You shall not oppress a stranger, for you know the heart of the stranger - you, yourselves, were strangers in the land of Egypt ." Elsewhere, the Torah commands us not to despise an Egyptian, for we were a "stranger in his land." As the commentaries point out, the Egyptians were the hosts of the Jewish people during the time of need.

How interesting: The Egyptian people enslaved the Jewish people. The Torah attests that they made their lives bitter with back-breaking work. They threw their sons into the river. They oppressed the Jewish people just because they were born as Jews. The Jewish people were "strangers", indeed.

Yet the Torah reminds us how they acted as... hosts!

We surely all know about the Mitzvah of "loving your fellow as yourself." That commandment only appears once in the Torah. On thirty-six occasions, the Torah commands us to love a stranger, while, most times, reminding us that the Jewish people "know what it feels like" since they were strangers in Egypt .

We are taught to love the stranger precisely because he is not like us. Throughout history, Jews were the archetypical strangers. Our father Abraham identifies himself this way. Moses named his firstborn son Gershom, because, "I am a stranger in a strange land." The Jews have experienced the full force of hatred of the "stranger", as their persecutors showed that they could not tolerate difference. A world that cannot live with strangers is an exiled world, waiting to be redeemed. The importance of loving the stranger is emphasized so many times in the Torah because it's probably the greatest religious truth we have.

And yes, even to the Egyptian persecutor, who hated the Jew-stranger ever more, we are not to despise. After all, Egypt did provide - albeit for personal reasons - for the Jews, and we know what it feels like to be picked as the stranger.

If there's anything we can take from the horrors from which our people were liberated 60 years ago, it is to reinforce the Torah's commandment of love for peace and tolerance for difference. Or strangeness.

When this message is imparted to all people of the world, the words of the prophet Micha regarding the Messianic era will really ring true: Nation will not take up sword against nation, nor will they train for war anymore. Every person will sit under his own vine and under his own fig tree, and no one will make him afraid... For all the peoples walk each in the name of its god, but we will walk in the name of Hashem our G-d forever and ever. Amen!

(Some of the details in this article are based on the book, “A letter in the scroll: Understanding our Jewish identity and exploring the legacy of the world's oldest religion”, by Rabbi Jonathan Sacks, chief Rabbi of the United Kingdom ).

A WARM SHABBOS

TERUMAH

Those of us living in Atlanta were treated to an ice storm of great proportions a couple of weeks ago. Pieces of ice were literally falling from the sky, transforming the outdoors into a giant freezer. It was dangerous to be outside; it was downright freezing cold, and many homes lost electric power. Outside, the trees and houses looked spectacular, and the street seemed to be frozen in time. The roads were treacherous. The mail truck was left outside my house till Monday. It got stuck in the frozen road right by my mailbox while delivering mail on Saturday morning.

The kids were very excited about the scene. After all, these things don't happen too often in Atlanta . Then they realized that by Monday morning, the day they have to return to school, there will not be a piece of ice to talk of, unless they opened the freezer inside the house. School and life would just go on as usual. What a waste of a good freeze!

While the ice was falling late Friday afternoon, a dear friend braved the ice, the cold, and the hazardous roads, to express a truly heartwarming gesture of bringing some treats to our house for Shabbos. When I was alerted to the presence of that friend in my driveway, I ran out, not wanting the person to walk even a few steps in the freezing ice and on the slippery pavement.

It was that kind of day and weekend.

After Shabbos, on Saturday night, I called that friend to express my deep gratitude for the gesture. While talking, I further inquired if the electricity was working in their house. The friend assured me that all's well, and that, in fact, no one had left their house all day. They preferred to just remain at home as a family, enjoying each other's company while engaged in general family activities. "I really enjoyed that kind of day," said the friend, "just concentrating on the home and the family."

I reminded my friend that, actually, I was engaged in a similar activity in honor of Shabbos - as I am each week. "We must be on to something," chimed in the friend. "It was really wonderful; An eye opener."

I am hopeful that after experiencing the special warmth and bliss provided for us by the holy day of Shabbos, my friend begins to experience this holiness and joy more often.

The Torah refers to Shabbos as a "Bris," a covenant. When two "free agents," who respect one another, bind themselves by a mutual promise to work together, to be loyal to one another, and to achieve - together - what neither can achieve alone - this is a covenant.

The home is the center of almost all of Judaism's sacred institutions, such as the Shabbos, the festivals, the Kosher dietary laws, and the education of children.

Jewish life, practiced in the home at its best, is exceptionally gracious and beautiful. Especially Shabbos: On Friday evenings, as the candles are lit, and the Kiddush and blessings over the Challah are made, as the family sings praises to the mother, as parents - in many homes - bless their children, and as the delicacies are passed around to enjoy - you can touch the Divine presence. And when we arrive back home from Shul in the daytime, we go at it again, this time the delicacies usually include the irresistible Chollent.

And yes, this all takes place in the ordinary home, among any ordinary family, rather than in a big palace or synagogue. Indeed, by the time Shabbos arrives, no home or person is ordinary. The Divine presence, itself, is alive and palpable right in the home and with the person.

With a large, healthy dose of materialism and physicality (good food, good conversation, good people), we remember, on Shabbos, that Bris, that agreement and promise with G-d: We'll supply earthly matter; G-d supplies heavenly delight. Together, we bring heaven down to earth for us, and elevate earth to heaven for Hashem.

The concept of having a bond, a covenant, between G-d and man has no parallel in any other religion or system. Other religions focus on how low, or inferior, mankind is. In Judaism, however, despite the utter disparity between G-d and humans, we are partners.

Having G-dliness permeate our homes is the idea presented in this week's Torah portion of "Terumah," which seems to be an architectural blueprint of how to build the "Mishkan," the traveling, temporary sanctuary used as G-d's home by the Jewish people in the desert. After 40 years in the desert, most of the Mishkan's structure ceased to exist. And yet, almost five entire portions are dedicated just to its construction!

The design and realization of Jewish people making a home for G-d out of their own homes and their own materials, in the desert or wherever Jewish people may be, is the most important and probably most revolutionary presentation of Judaism.

And it's not just important and revolutionary. It's beautiful as well.

Life without fully practicing and remembering this special bond of Shabbos we reinforce with G-d for one day a week, misses out on what may be the greatest gift we have.

We need to use this gift, certainly more often than most people do. Not just when it's cold and dangerous outside, but also because it makes us "warm" and beautiful inside.

And if doesn't feel warm yet, it's time to do something about it!

A PHOTO OP TO MISS

TETZAVEH

The other day, my youngest daughter, Raizy, age 4, tugged at my sleeve. She was just presented "her" photo album, containing pictures of her as an infant through the present. One of her sisters had worked very hard, and placed all the pictures we had of her into this album.

It was now my turn to look at the album.

Delicately and carefully, Raizy turned each page, proudly pointing to each picture and to each person and object on the picture, laughing at the way her siblings looked years back. I was quite surprised to see how many pictures we had taken of her: they say that after a few children, it becomes "routine," and Raizy is our eighth (Kenna Hora!). But it doesn't become routine at all. Each child comes separately, and each one has his or her world. If you don't believe me, just ask Raizy to show you her album...

We came to the end of the album, and she characteristically said: You want to see it again?

How can a father refuse! And away we went through the whole experience again. I was forced to promise Raizy that we'd look at her album a third time "later" when the offer was quick to come after the second viewing.

A few minutes later, Raizy was back at my sleeve. The excitement and joy had left her face, transformed, instead, to one of disappointment and pain. She explained that her sister took "her" album away. After investigating, I discovered that her sister was just trying to place the finishing touches on the album. Raizy wouldn't accept any of that; she wanted her album back!

It's not just photo albums. We all collect pictures, drawings, paintings, cassette tapes, videos and DVDs of our children and loved ones. We do so to freeze moments and events in time, Recording our memories for posterity, keeping them alive. The good and "cute" shots are usually displayed proudly to friends and loved ones many years past their date.

But it hasn't always been this way.

If we take a glimpse into the Torah and look to all the great figures and heroes, we discover that a big chunk of their lives is missing - especially from their childhood!

This past week, we celebrated the birth of Moshe Rabeinu, or Moses. The Torah records a big commotion about his birth and his survival in a basket bobbing on the waters of the Nile River . The next thing we hear: He's grown up and helping the Jews. What happened to what must have been the great moments of his childhood, the "cute" things he surely said, the wise lines he may have shared in Pharaoh's palace, the sad times without his mother. What happened to all the "records" of how he grew up?

Despite the importance we all attribute to children growing up as we record every milestone in their lives, the Torah is clearly interested just in conveying to us the essence of the person, whether the Avot, the patriarchs, Moshe, Betzalel, or anyone else. We hear about Moshe helping his brethren in Egypt; assisting strangers in Midiyan; rescuing a sheep in the desert; pleading for his people at Sinai.

The person the Torah wants us to learn about, and to learn from, is not about how smart they were or how beautiful their words of wisdom may have been. It's about what they did to convey their essential mission. The Torah is intent to teach about what the person did, not about how they got there.

As it is with Moshe: anytime the Torah mentions his name it is in the context of being a great, and how much he sacrificed for this ideal of leadership. After he's born, we learn of his care to his fellow Jews enslaved in Egypt . When he's told he's going to die, Moses begs G-d not leave his people "like sheep without a shepherd."

But in this week's Torah portion of Tetzaveh, Moshe's name is not mentioned at all. And it's specifically here, in the absence of his name, where his trues essence - and greatest teaching - lies.

A name is something given to a person already existing. We are not born with a name. When this week's portion discusses Moshe - without using his name - the Torah says, "And you (i.e., Moshe) shall command the children of Israel ." That word, "You," is a reference to the person himself.

In other words: A person's "name" reveals everything we can know about the person, such as intellect, character, communicable thoughts and feelings. "You," on the other hand, refers to a person's anonymous essence, anonymous because it is too sublime and abstract to be articulated and revealed.

Why is Moshe only referred to as "you" in this portion? Because he asked G-d that if the Jewish people were not forgiven for the sin of the Golden Calf, Moshe did not want to be mentioned in the whole book of the Torah. Although the people were forgiven, Moshe's request was still honored: His name is absent from one portion.

Let's think about this: Moshe was imploring G-d to forgive sinful Jews. What kind of sin did they commit? The worshiping of an idol - a sin so terrible, that most of us cannot fathom anyone wanting to behave this way. Yet, Moshe is ready to sacrifice every honor and recognition, including all lessons to be learned from his great life, just so those "sinners" be forgiven!

But that, my friends, is true leadership from the greatest leader. Leadership is not just to those who "have it," but especially to those that don't. And it's worth sacrificing for.

By Moshe's name missing from the portion, he is accorded the greatest and ultimate honor: Indeed, he was the greatest leader ever, for he took everyone's fate seriously. Even over his own fate.

The Torah, therefore, refers to Moshe in this week's portion as "you," for this is the essence of Moshe - to be too busy caring for his people to be mentioned in the Torah.

We don't have Moshe's photo album of when he was a kid. We hardly know anything about his childhood either. But we sure know what his essence wanted. It's displayed for all to see by his hidden name.

We can all be like Moshe to care for each other over our own needs, for each of us Jews is truly connected to our fellow Jew. We just have to hide ourselves to reveal our essence.

And I'm confident my dear Raizy will, one day, learn to follow in this vein as well: that as important as her album may be, the other person must take precedence...

THE WOMAN ON THE BOXCAR

KI SISA

Sometimes you see something and you feel it; you know it; you get it.

I had such a moment this past Sunday, in St., Petersburg , Florida , at that city's Holocaust museum.

I was in Florida attending a retreat for those going on the "March of The Living," a two-week excursion in May, taking high school juniors and seniors to Poland and Israel . Our 2 days in St. Petersburg would serve as a preparation and introduction to ourselves, and to the awesome experience we would be having in just 10 weeks.

After we had all toured the holocaust museum and heard from an actual survivor, we were prepped for what was to become the defining moment of the trip.

We all stood outside of the boxcar. This is a cattle car, actually used to transport thousands of Jews to Auschwitz . Unlike the boxcar at the Holocaust museum in Washington , the doors of this car remain closed, and are only opened once every 2 years - to the students and staff preparing for the March.

As we stood, congregated outside the door, the leader of the Southeast March of the Living addressed us. He reminded the assembled where this train came from, who was in it, what it was like to be in it, and where it spilled its human "cargo." A pin drop could be heard when he reminded us of the sanctity and reverence this place must engender.

I followed a student from my group up the stairs and into the empty car. It was dark and a little musty. I turned right, and was immediately attracted to the stark wooden walls, feeling them, touching them, experiencing them. Somehow, we made our way across to the other side, eventually ending at the far left hand corner. And we stopped right there.

But the stream of students coming in to the car didn't stop. And the car became increasingly crowded.

Close to where I was standing was a vent: 3-4 metal panels, soldered shut, just allowing a trickle of air into the car. In order to close this vent (in the winter, I guess), a piece of wood could be closed over it from the inside.

As more and more students were pilling in, it became quite tight. I realized that the piece of wood was in the way of allowing 2-3 more students some space. I attempted to raise this piece of wood and fumbled with the mechanism designed to hold this plank in place, but I was unsuccessful. The last thing I needed was to break something. So I just stood there, hands raised in the air, holding up this piece of wood.

Watching the survivors enter was something. Some just shook their heads, others wiped away a tear, others just walked in, taking it in.

After all the students, staff and survivors entered - about 150 people, roughly the same amount of people this boxcar would routinely carry on its fateful journey - the "Keil Moleh" prayer, remembering departed ones, was sung.

During the prayer, I rested my head against my upraised arms. I tired to capture the feeling of the moment, the solemnness of the place, and the events which transpired in that very car. I tried to hear the vicious dogs barking, waiting for a command to tear into a hapless Jew. I tired to envision looking down the barrel of a gun, held by wickedness itself, whose only reservation in firing the gun was the wasting of the bullet. I tried to take in the stifling aroma of human beings, already diseased and malnourished, trying to cope with the squeeze, the sweat, no food and water, and the lack of a place to relieve oneself. I tired to listen to the sounds of the children, those poor children, who must have been so dreadfully confused and so desperately scared, as their parents could not do anything to help them or save them. I tried to feel those famous suitcases, carrying some measly belongings, to end up as Nazi booty.

But it wasn't coming to me. I even tried to think what I would have said to my own children if it was me, G-d forbid, in that car. But I couldn't even imagine it. How could I? No one forced me onto that car and no one was going to throw me off it. I had just enjoyed a delicious lunch, and I could smell the supper coming real soon. True, we were sweating on the car due to the squeeze, but still, I knew the train was going nowhere, and there were no suitcases, and no dogs, no guns and no yelling. My life was not in perilous balance

All I could feel was the dark, cold silence of death; all I could hear were the soft sounds of sobbing, some from that student standing right next to me.

And then the prayer was over, and the shuffling of feet signaled that it was time to leave.

Being in the far corner, however, we were going to have to wait until most of the students were off. I remained standing there, my hands still suspended in air, trying my utmost to "feel it." I was wondering why I wasn't crying with the students.

I must confess that what impresses me more than memorials, walls and graves - is not so much the place, but the behavior of the people I observe at these places.

And then it happened. Whilst still standing in the corner, some of the 12th grade boys, whom, I guess, were trying to deal with their feelings or eager to get out of that horrific place, began making some comments, and some were even laughing. In truth, I had no idea what they were saying or doing, for I was busy thinking and imagining.

But Lindsey Pressner from Florida, the student standing right next to me, her face red from perspiration and wet with tears, turned to these 20 or so guys, and said: "You know, you guys are so rude".

That was all she said. That was all she needed to say. And it jarred me wide awake from my dreaming.

I immediately told the boys that they are standing in someone else's territory, and have no right to act other than with silence and dignity.

And then I began to think about Lindsey and what she had just said. I found it fascinating that one girl, also a twelfth grader, was able to get it, while the boys were all goofing off. I found it remarkable that all she said was how rude they were, but, in truth, she was trying to tell them how she couldn't believe their insensitivity in such a holy atmosphere. I was amazed by her courage to protest the fact that even packed into a boxcar, there are those who don't seemed to be moved.

And then, while still standing in the boxcar, I understood something about this week's Torah portion of "Ki Tisa." The portion relates that Moshe was commanded to build the Kiyor, the wash basin, to be used in the Holy Beit Hamikdash ( Temple ). The basin was built out of the mirrors the Jewish women donated. The women had used these mirrors to beautify themselves for their husbands, thus ensuring the multitudes of Jewish people that eventually left Egypt .

Moshe was unsure about these mirrors, used for vanity. But Hashem loved these mirrors. Not only were they used, but they were used to construct the wash basin, placed in FRONT of the Temple and used prior to EVERY service in the Temple !

The Torah is teaching how even something like a mirror, not necessarily designed for a holy activity, can be, and must be, utilized for holy purposes. Just like the wash basin, filled with cleansing and purifying waters, was made from materials which can be misused for unholy purposes, when we transform ourselves and our deeds to positives, we can "wash away" anything unclean. This activity is more precious to G-d than anything that could have been performed INSIDE the Temple .

And it is through the women, once again, from whom we derive this lesson. Because they always seem to get it - just as it was with the sin of the Golden Calf, also mentioned in this week's portion, where the women refused to participate.

And since the focus was holiness, it took the women's donation, specifically, to teach us this lesson about transformation, as the women are so much more in tune, possess so much more focus, and can see so much further.

As Lindsey showed and taught me, on the cattle car.

And then, as I walked out of the boxcar, I was able to feel it. No, not the enormity of the horror, and not the sadness of the place.

But the appreciation of Lindsey, together with all other Jewish women, who continue to get it, and teach the men how to get it as well.

The future will continue to be bright and holy, thanks to the Jewish women.

HOOKED ON VIDEOS

VAYAKHEL

It's pretty safe to say that we've all pushed a video into the slot on a VCR player. By now, most of us have also inserted a DVD into its player. If the machine is working correctly, we expect the desired movie or video to begin showing on the screen, entertaining or educating us.

There is something, however, that most people don't know. When watching a professional production on video, we usually take it for granted that every scene and every clip comes in their proper sequence. We just continue watching, as if nothing happened, when all gimmicks and video "miracles" enhance the view, and make their point at just the right time.

But plenty has to happen to prepare any professional video, much more than the novice can possibly imagine.

I am a novice no more. Over the past few weeks, I have discovered the incredible work that is inherent in every single video we watch. I was working with a well-known videographer (and a good friend) to produce a professional video from footage shot at my mother's birthday celebration last year. I won't bore you with all the details, just to say that this past Monday, one day before I traveled to London to visit my parents and daughter, we worked for several hours (hours, that is) just to produce a segment which runs for less than five minutes!

In any spot of the video, every single running second, every frame, any little thing, takes time, imagination and creativity. When one little thing was out sync, the entire production failed.

Watching my friend working his magic, I was impressed by his patience. I found myself getting frustrated and exasperated when the machine "didn't get it" (it's really human error...), but the professional editor just sits there and tries again and again, sometimes fixing the most minute millisecond of film 4-5 times. At the same time, I learned a lot about details that make-up a larger picture: If the tiniest detail isn't what it could be, the whole production – and its desired affect – is undermined. To my chagrin, I was unable to bring the DVD to London with me as a result of some really minor technicalities.

In life, we come across similar instances, as illuminated by this week's Torah portion, of Vayakhel. The Torah describes how the "wise-hearted" craftsmen constructed the pegs and hooks, crafted to hold up the curtains surrounding the Mishkan, or the traveling sanctuary of the Jewish people, in the desert.

Pegs and hooks? It seems like such a waste of time to use "wise-hearted," skilled craftsmen for those! Any hardware store has them in all shapes and sizes, and there's no need for a "special order." Yet, the same skilled craftsmen who constructed the elaborate Menorah, altar and Cherubs on the ark, were also commissioned to make the hooks!

But it's precisely the details, down to the hooks and the pegs indeed, that enhance the image and the picture. In any important endeavor, every item, even the genuinely less significant ones, is crucial for the success of the whole representation. And it takes the most professional and qualified people to do the job, for even the smallest details need the best attention.

It has taken a few days, but thank G-d, the DVD from my mother's celebration is finally on its way here. We will be able to watch it and enjoy before I leave. It did take, though, a few days just to fix a few small technicalities. A very big expert, our own "wise-hearted" guy, had to be called in to come to the rescue. Indeed, the smallest technical problems require the biggest people in the field.

We are all "experts." Each of us has a "wise-hearted person" inside us, who serves as someone else's role model. We can all have a positive influence on some other person or people: children, students, business associates, friends and neighbors.

Our basic responsibility is to use this "wise-heartedness" to look after every aspect of the other person's development, down to the seemingly non-essential matters. Even "pegs," designed to keep the "winds" from "blowing us away" from Judaism and devotion to Torah and mitzvot, must be supplied by the "role model." Thoughts like, "It is beneath my dignity to bother with this," or "Anyone could do it, so why should I bother?" cannot be a part of the "wise-hearted" teacher's vocabulary.

When you see a person who is firmly rooted "down to earth", remaining firm no matter what kind of pressures and temptations he or she may face, you can be sure that this person had an expert teacher who constructed the "pegs." Give that teacher credit for being wise-hearted - and try to do the same for someone else.

But remember, have patience. Every detail, even the most minuscule, must be handled carefully, sensibly and with sensitivity.

And then you'll see a beautiful, clear picture, whose every frame is designed to enhance the view.

WHAT A SURPRISE: DRINK!

PEKUDEI – ADAR

Towards the end of my flight this past Monday, from London to Atlanta , some passengers erupted in loud laughs. I looked up from what I was reading and noticed that many of the laughing passengers were watching the movie screen. The screen was showing a "candid camera" presentation, where people were being fooled into thinking that something bizarre or disastrous was happening. After the footage showed the shocked and confused looks on their faces, one could see how the people being filmed were shown the camera. These types of scenes are usually hilarious, especially the reaction of the "actors" once they realize that they've been duped.

Anyone who's ever had a real shocking, but pleasant surprise, knows that the impression from such a moment is unforgettable for life. The lifetime memory is not just because of the surprise, but, mainly, due to the work and the attention by the one springing the surprise.

When I celebrated my 40th birthday, Rebbetzen Lew led me to the VCR where she played a video with greetings from my family and closest friends. It was such a beautiful and unexpected pleasant surprise that it overwhelmed me - not just the nice words people were inclined to say about me (to which I still need to aspire), but mainly because it takes a lot of planning and thought to create such a thing while keeping it a surprise. And it's the thought that counts. Last year, I joined my 14 siblings as we gathered in London , traveling from all over the world, to spring an amazing surprise upon our parents. It took us 4 months to coordinate and organize this special moment and weekend. I know my parents will never, ever forget that day.

Just last week I went to visit my oldest daughter who is studying in London . She was told I was coming on a different day than when I actually was arriving. When she laid her eyes on me, it took her about 2 seconds to realize who was standing before her, as it was so unexpected. I can tell you that she will remember this moment for a long time - and so will I.

Watching the reaction of surprised people is very rewarding. It is easy to see that prohibitions and natural "walls" are gone. Caution is usually thrown to wind, and all logic and usual behavior is normally suspended, leaving behind the "pure" person.

It's interesting to note, that this concept of suspending logic is the message of this Shabbos!

This Shabbos is Rosh Chodesh - "head of the Jewish month of" - Adar II. It is the month in which we increase in joy from its beginning. The central focus of this month is, of course, Purim and its celebration.

How do we celebrate Purim? According to the law, the following activities are required to be performed on the actual day (after daylight) of Purim: 1) Sending 2 prepared food items to a friend. 2) giving money to (at least) 2 poor people. 3) Partaking of a festive meal. 4) Drinking - during this meal - enough wine to become intoxicated. [The Megillah (book of Esther) is treated a little differently, since it's read by night and by day. Besides, there are times when the Megillah may be read on other days of the month].

The various ways of celebrating of Purim are very unique. On Passover, we eat Matzah for that's what the Jewish people ate then. On Sukkos we eat in the Sukkah to commemorate G-d's protection of the Jewish people in the desert. On Chanukah we eat food with oil, commemorating the miracle of oil. On Purim, however, the focus is on physical enjoyment whichever way it may be, the more the merrier. We eat and drink, our friends are also fed, and the poor have their needs addressed as well.

But what about the drinking? Intoxication is not advocated in Jewish law. It is, in fact, frowned upon. What, then, is the idea behind the drinking on Purim?

Before continuing, I would like to emphatically share the following disclaimer: Those who can't control themselves due to drinking, and, of course, those who perform acts of offensive nature, are strictly forbidden, according to Jewish law, to drink - EVER. On Purim, Simchas Torah, and other occasions that people drink, the wine and spirits may only be used to enhance the joy, not to, G-d forbid, drink for the sake of drinking, and certainly, not to ruin the joy for oneself or anyone else.

When a person drinks alcohol over the limit, the mind becomes clouded. It is hoped that on Purim the person will become less inhibited by logic, and more free and in-tuned with his personality and self. In other words, since the focus of Purim is on the physical pleasure and enjoyment, the attempt is made to rise above the thinking of the mind. It's time to loosen up the analytical and stoic mind, and allow the real and pure person to emerge.

The villain Haman was intent on destroying the physical existence of the Jewish people. This was not a logical attack; it was driven by pure, unadulterated evil and hatred. The celebration of Purim is therefore about getting in touch with our physical selves, and attempting to rise above logic and mindfulness.

Essentially, the celebration of Purim is what Judaism is all about: To permeate world, especially the physicality of the world, with G-dliness and Judaism.

And this is also the message imparted from this week's Torah portion of Pekudei. The Torah describes how Moshe set up the tabernacle, the traveling sanctuary, while the Jewish people were in the desert. When completed, G-d presence filled the Sanctuary.

The tabernacle was constructed from earthly materials, like gold, silver, copper, etc. It was specifically in this physical environment, where Hashem chooses to reside in His full glory.

Common sense and logic are essential components in our lives, on all levels. But it's so memorable, and at times funny, when we see people removed from their logic and minds, as their pure self comes through - as I saw on the plane, and with the various surprises mentioned above.

Purim, being a day of getting in touch with one's pure self, rising above any limitation, should achieve the same memorable experience.

And on this Shabbos, we get a taste of this experience, because of the message of the Torah portion, and because of the beginning of the happiest month of the year.

May we all experience only joy and happiness in its purest and most memorable manner.