The Rosh HaYeshiva, Rabbi Yitzchok Hutner, of blessed memory, is quoted in his Pachad Yitzchak (in the section on the night of Hoshana Rabbah):
The Jewish people are accustomed to turn to Sefer Tehillim, the Book of Psalms, during times of distress and sorrow. Therefore, people think that prayer and the saying of Tehillim are essentially the same thing. This is not so. Tehillim are zemirot, songs of praise. more than a prayer. The difference between them is that while prayer should be recited at a time of Divine favor, the saying of Tehillim has the power to create a time of Divine favor, an Eit Ratzon. In prayer, the content has to be tailored to the need, while in Tehillim, the saying of any part creates an Eit Ratzon. And when there is a condition of Eit Ratzon, troubles depart.
Source: The Foreword in Tehillim Eit Ratzon, Feldheim Publishers
Sabtu, 25 Juli 2009
Selasa, 07 Juli 2009
Kaddish with Oprah
By Simcha Jacobovici
The phone rang in my New York hotel room. It was 1995, and I was saying Kaddish for my late father, of blessed memory, Joseph Jacobovici. I live in Toronto, but I'm a filmmaker so I move around.
During my eleven months of saying Kaddish, I ended up in various minyans from San Francisco to Halifax. Once, I extended a stopover in Detroit and rushed to the basement of an old synagogue, where I was greeted by nine octogenarians as if I were the Messiah himself. But the phone call in New York was the start of what turned out to be perhaps the most interesting Kaddish experience of them all.
Whenever I had to explain this, people never quite got it. I had just finished a documentary film called "The Selling of Innocents." The film won an Emmy, attracting the attention of Oprah Winfrey, the American icon and celebrated TV host. The producer at the other end of the telephone line asked if I could fly to Chicago and appear with my fellow producers on the Oprah show the day after next.
I was taken aback. This was the Oprah show. The big time. Great publicity for the film, and a great promotional opportunity for me and my company.
"I'd love to do it," I said, "but I don't think I can."
"Why not?" the producer asked, her voice betraying her surprise. Nobody says "too busy" to the Oprah show.
"I have a problem," I answered.
The producer's voice, Lisa was her name, became steely-- all business. "What's the problem?" she asked.
"It's complicated."
"Try me," she said.
I began the process of explaining, to a non-Jewish television producer from Chicago, the Jewish ritual of Kaddish.
Whenever I had to explain this, people never quite got it. I would tell them that I need a minyan, and they would drive me to an empty synagogue... It never quite worked out. But this was Oprah.
So I gave it a try.
The rest unfolded like a military operation "I'm Jewish. My father passed away. In our religion it's incumbent upon me, three times a day, to say a certain prayer, a glorification of G‑d's Name, really. It's called Mourner's Kaddish. To do this, I need to be in a 'Jewish quorum.' It's called a minyan... So I can't miss this ritual. If I come to Chicago, I would have to attend morning services prior to being on Oprah."
"No problem," she said. "You need a minyan to say Kaddish. Ten Jewish men. For morning services. I'll arrange it."
"It's not so simple," I said. "You may find a synagogue, but it might not have a minyan in the morning. Or the Jewish community may send you to a synagogue that's open... which wouldn't do the trick for me."
Lisa tried to be patient. "I'll fax your flight information to your hotel. You will be met in Chicago by a limo. The driver will have the minyan information. You will say Kaddish for your father."
The rest unfolded like a military operation. The next day the ticket came. I arrived in Chicago. Then the limo came. The driver took me to a hotel and said, "I'll be here at 6:30 a.m. Your minyan begins at 7 a.m. I'll pick you up at 8 a.m. You'll be at the Oprah show by 8:30 a.m."
The hotel room was beautiful. I slept like a baby. At 6:30 in the morning, I came down and stepped into my limo. There was a newspaper on the seat.
I could get used to this, I thought.
The driver pulled up in front of a downtown office building and told me that there was a Chabad Lubavitch minyan on one of the upper floors.
When I got there, the rabbi looked at me and said, "So you're the guy saying Kaddish. I was warned by the Oprah show that I'd better have a minyan."
We smiled at each other. I was really impressed with Lisa and Oprah. And I felt that my father was surely amused. After prayers, my driver took me to the Oprah show. I was met by Lisa, a black woman in her thirties. She got straight to the point.
"You had a minyan?"
"Yes, thank you," I said.
"Was it proper? Did you say Kaddish?"
"Absolutely. Couldn't be better," I answered.
She looked at me with that look that star surgeons have when they come out of the operating room. Or maybe it's the look that battle commanders have when coming back from a military operation. It's a look that says, "Nothing is too complicated."
I was on Oprah. She was very professional. I had my five minutes of fame. But all I can remember of that day is the Kaddish.
The phone rang in my New York hotel room. It was 1995, and I was saying Kaddish for my late father, of blessed memory, Joseph Jacobovici. I live in Toronto, but I'm a filmmaker so I move around.
During my eleven months of saying Kaddish, I ended up in various minyans from San Francisco to Halifax. Once, I extended a stopover in Detroit and rushed to the basement of an old synagogue, where I was greeted by nine octogenarians as if I were the Messiah himself. But the phone call in New York was the start of what turned out to be perhaps the most interesting Kaddish experience of them all.
Whenever I had to explain this, people never quite got it. I had just finished a documentary film called "The Selling of Innocents." The film won an Emmy, attracting the attention of Oprah Winfrey, the American icon and celebrated TV host. The producer at the other end of the telephone line asked if I could fly to Chicago and appear with my fellow producers on the Oprah show the day after next.
I was taken aback. This was the Oprah show. The big time. Great publicity for the film, and a great promotional opportunity for me and my company.
"I'd love to do it," I said, "but I don't think I can."
"Why not?" the producer asked, her voice betraying her surprise. Nobody says "too busy" to the Oprah show.
"I have a problem," I answered.
The producer's voice, Lisa was her name, became steely-- all business. "What's the problem?" she asked.
"It's complicated."
"Try me," she said.
I began the process of explaining, to a non-Jewish television producer from Chicago, the Jewish ritual of Kaddish.
Whenever I had to explain this, people never quite got it. I would tell them that I need a minyan, and they would drive me to an empty synagogue... It never quite worked out. But this was Oprah.
So I gave it a try.
The rest unfolded like a military operation "I'm Jewish. My father passed away. In our religion it's incumbent upon me, three times a day, to say a certain prayer, a glorification of G‑d's Name, really. It's called Mourner's Kaddish. To do this, I need to be in a 'Jewish quorum.' It's called a minyan... So I can't miss this ritual. If I come to Chicago, I would have to attend morning services prior to being on Oprah."
"No problem," she said. "You need a minyan to say Kaddish. Ten Jewish men. For morning services. I'll arrange it."
"It's not so simple," I said. "You may find a synagogue, but it might not have a minyan in the morning. Or the Jewish community may send you to a synagogue that's open... which wouldn't do the trick for me."
Lisa tried to be patient. "I'll fax your flight information to your hotel. You will be met in Chicago by a limo. The driver will have the minyan information. You will say Kaddish for your father."
The rest unfolded like a military operation. The next day the ticket came. I arrived in Chicago. Then the limo came. The driver took me to a hotel and said, "I'll be here at 6:30 a.m. Your minyan begins at 7 a.m. I'll pick you up at 8 a.m. You'll be at the Oprah show by 8:30 a.m."
The hotel room was beautiful. I slept like a baby. At 6:30 in the morning, I came down and stepped into my limo. There was a newspaper on the seat.
I could get used to this, I thought.
The driver pulled up in front of a downtown office building and told me that there was a Chabad Lubavitch minyan on one of the upper floors.
When I got there, the rabbi looked at me and said, "So you're the guy saying Kaddish. I was warned by the Oprah show that I'd better have a minyan."
We smiled at each other. I was really impressed with Lisa and Oprah. And I felt that my father was surely amused. After prayers, my driver took me to the Oprah show. I was met by Lisa, a black woman in her thirties. She got straight to the point.
"You had a minyan?"
"Yes, thank you," I said.
"Was it proper? Did you say Kaddish?"
"Absolutely. Couldn't be better," I answered.
She looked at me with that look that star surgeons have when they come out of the operating room. Or maybe it's the look that battle commanders have when coming back from a military operation. It's a look that says, "Nothing is too complicated."
I was on Oprah. She was very professional. I had my five minutes of fame. But all I can remember of that day is the Kaddish.
Topics:
Jewish Story
Minggu, 24 Mei 2009
Judaism for Gentiles?
As provoking as before, my Facebook friend, Asher Meza posted another new video calling gentiles to convert to Judaism. Some people are getting disturbed by the title. Judaism for what ? Historically we are never a missionary religion. We don't seek converts. What the text sources does he use to support this ?
I think if I could help clarifying things, certainly what Asher means "gentiles" here is not literally gentiles. In this video, he is showing that he is very aware there are many people who are interested in Judaism but are not in the right situation to start the conversion process immediately (e.g. living too far from Jewish community). They are the gentiles he is talking about. The Sages of the Talmud call someone who is considering conversion a "Ger sheba l'his'gayer" - "a convert who comes to convert", not a "goy sheba l'his'gayer" - not a "gentile who comes to convert". So what does it mean ? It means a true convert is already Jewish from the beginning. They are Jewish souls who got lost somewhere along the way.
So if you reject being just a good Noahide, if you think you are one of those potential true converts, while you are working to improve your situation, until you become able to complete the conversion, you got stuck in the so-called "Transitional Judaism". Here are some the do's and the dont's when you are practising it.
- You can keep laws of kashrut (eating kosher).
- You can observe Shabbat but you have to violate at least one ruling (e.g. light the candle after halachic time). According to many sources, when the Talmud teaches that an Akum (heathen - but sometimes could be nachri - non-Jew, and changed by censors) who rests is liable to the death penalty, that is referring to resting from sunrise to sunrise on any day, unlike the Jewish sabbath which begins at sundown Friday and ends 72 minutes after sundown Saturday.
- You can put mezuzot in your house. Rambam states this explicitly in chapter 10 of Hilkhoth Melakhim in the Mishne Torah. Some say you should do it without the blessing. When you're fully convert, you put it on again, this time with the blessing.
- You have to keep the laws of Tzniut (dressing modestly).
- You can wear kippah, but please be careful, when you wear it, people might think you are a Jew when you're not, especially if you are still eating cheese burger. In such case, you would desecreate G-d's name (Chillul Hashem).
- You can wear tzitzit but it would be better to consult with your local Orthodox rabbi first.
- You have to perform Tzedakah as much as possible.
- You can start praying using siddurim.
- Use your time to learn and experience all that you can about Judaism. Learning Hebrew is also highly recommended.
You can find Asher Meza in his website BeJewish.org
Topics:
Conversion
Selasa, 28 April 2009
A Prayer For Every Need
A PRAYER FOR EVERY NEED
Following is a list of Psalms which are recited on special occasions:
| To find a mate (Shidduch) | 32, 38, 70, 71, 72, 82, 121, 124 |
| On the day of a wedding | The entire Sefer Tehillin should be recited |
| For healthy childbirth | 4, 5, 8, 20, 35, 57, 93, 108, 142 |
| On the day of a Bris (circumcision) | 12 |
| For recovery from illness | 6, 13, 20, 22, 23, 30, 32, 38, 41, 51, 86, 88, 91, 102, 103, 121, 130, 142, 143 |
| For livelihood | 23, 34, 36, 62, 65, 67, 85, 67, 85, 104, 121, 136, 144, 145 |
| For peace | 46, 91 |
| For success | 22, 38, 112, 121, 144 |
| For thanksgiving | 9, 21, 57, 95, 100, 116, 138 |
| For divine guidance | 139 |
| For repentance | 51, 90 |
| For help in troublesome times | 20, 38, 85, 86, 102, 130, 142 |
| Prayer recited when traveling | 91 |
| Psalm of thanksgiving for a miracle | 18 |
| Psalm of thanksgiving upon being rescued | 124 |
| In a house of mourning | 49 |
| At a gravesite or on Yahrzeit | 16, 17, 33, 72, 91, 104, 130 |
| At the dedication of a monument | 1 |
| Prayer before meal | 24 |
| Prayer before bentching | Weekdays 137 on Shabbos 126 |
| On day of Bar Mitzva | 2 |
| Prayer at the Western Wall | 2, 6, 11, 12, 13, 22, 38, 42, 43, 44, 48, 65, 66, 84, 85, 87, 91, 122, 128, 129, 130, 132, 133, 134 |
| Tikkun Haklali | 16, 32, 41, 42, 59, 77, 90, 105, 137, 150 |
The main point is when you say Tehillim with the proper intentions, namely to understand the simple meaning of the words, it is granted that your prayers will reach the highest heights of heaven. No matter how low you may feel never give up. God always listens to your prayers so stay strong and its never late to return to him.
Topics:
Jewish Literacy
Why Logic Is Not Enough To Find G-d
"The heart which involves the desire of the soul, i.e. the will, is a very important sensibility. Binah by itself is not enough, if emotion is not joined with it. There must be a unity of brain and heart, a harmony of intelligence and emotion.
…Human beings who think that they can come to know G-d through research, philosophy and intellectual insight, are mistaken. “The teachings of his G-d are in his heart” (Psalms 37:31) There is no more suitable insight to attain the divine than through the heart. When a person purifies his traits, he will find the Divinity in his heart
…“From there you will seek G-d, your Lord, and if you pursue Him with all your heart and soul, you will find Him.” (Deut.4:29)
Reb Simcha Bunim explained it this way:
“All the efforts to know G-d which comes only through wisdom and research will not reach the desired objective because those efforts do not flow from this other special source. Thus it is written ‘From there,’ i.e. from another place. ‘From there you will seek G-d, your Lord…’ A person may twist and turn to seek G-d through research and study but he loses his way because he is seeking ‘from there’. Suddenly a ‘finding’ appears upon his path in front of him, ‘a ray of light’, a wondrous light, which breaks through all his darkness, ‘and you will find’. Why? ‘Because you pursue Him with all your heart’; one needs to pursue G-d with all ‘your heart’.”
- R. Simcha Bunim of Pshischa – His life and teachings (pg. 84-87)
Topics:
Torah wisdom
Jumat, 17 April 2009
In The Innermost Place of Torah There is Silence
Lesson from weekly Torah reading: Parashat Shemini (Lev 9:1-11-47)
By Rabbi Victor Reinstein of Nehar Shalom Community Synagogue
In the very middle of the Torah is a silent space between two words in which can be heard the “still small voice” of God. In parashat Sh’mini is the very middle of the Torah for both words and letters. Ancient scribes lovingly counted each word and each letter of Torah. The word for scribe in Hebrew is sofer, whose root, in fact, means, “to count.” The exact middle of the Torah is not a word, but the space between two words. It is the space that comes between the last word of the first half of the Torah and the first word of the second half of the Torah. These two words are darosh darash, each formed of the same letters of the root meaning “to seek, or to search.” Moses searched for the goat of the sin offering and became angry with Aaron because he and his surviving sons had not eaten the offering as they were supposed to as part of their rite of atonement on behalf of Israel. They did not eat it because they were in mourning for the other two sons of Aaron, Nadav and Avihu, struck down suddenly for offering “strange fire” before God. The grieving father had already stood before Moses and received words of cold comfort that sought to justify the tragedy. Of Aaron’s quiet dignity in his lack of response to his brother, the Torah says, vayidom Aharon, “and Aaron was silent.”
In the Torah’s innermost silence, Aaron’s silence echoes. Moses learned from that silence and came to search not only for the goat, but for understanding in his own heart, announcing to the entire people through the midrashic voice of the rabbis, “I have erred regarding the law, and my brother Aaron came and taught me.” Indeed, in the humility that allows for such admission is Moses’ greatness. The two words that frame the silence in the middle of the Torah, darosh darash, “and you shall search ever so carefully,” beckon us to enter that silence and to search and to listen.
From these words that give form to the Torah’s place of silence, we learn that in a search for truth and understanding we need look to both sides, to past and to future. The Hebrew for truth, Emet, is itself formed of the first middle and last letter of the Hebrew alphabet. Looking forward from the very first letter, aleph, we see the letters bet, gimmel, daled which form the word, beged, clothing, but with the simple shift of a vowel form boged, deceit. So too, standing at the very last letter of the alphabet, tav, and looking back, we see the letters kuf, resh, shin, which can form kesher – connection, or sheker – lie.
The search for truth begins in silence and humility, in the strength to recognize and acknowledge our own shortcomings and mistakes, as Moses did. No one has a monopoly on truth. When woven of the golden threads of silence, spun from the Torah’s innermost place, the garb of truth rests upon us all, joining us together beneath her wing, as a tallis.
In the Torah’s innermost silence, Aaron’s silence echoes. Moses learned from that silence and came to search not only for the goat, but for understanding in his own heart, announcing to the entire people through the midrashic voice of the rabbis, “I have erred regarding the law, and my brother Aaron came and taught me.” Indeed, in the humility that allows for such admission is Moses’ greatness. The two words that frame the silence in the middle of the Torah, darosh darash, “and you shall search ever so carefully,” beckon us to enter that silence and to search and to listen.
From these words that give form to the Torah’s place of silence, we learn that in a search for truth and understanding we need look to both sides, to past and to future. The Hebrew for truth, Emet, is itself formed of the first middle and last letter of the Hebrew alphabet. Looking forward from the very first letter, aleph, we see the letters bet, gimmel, daled which form the word, beged, clothing, but with the simple shift of a vowel form boged, deceit. So too, standing at the very last letter of the alphabet, tav, and looking back, we see the letters kuf, resh, shin, which can form kesher – connection, or sheker – lie.
The search for truth begins in silence and humility, in the strength to recognize and acknowledge our own shortcomings and mistakes, as Moses did. No one has a monopoly on truth. When woven of the golden threads of silence, spun from the Torah’s innermost place, the garb of truth rests upon us all, joining us together beneath her wing, as a tallis.
Topics:
Parashah Insights
Rabu, 28 Januari 2009
The 10 Most Amazing Jewish Thoughts
10. Man thinks, God laughs
An old Yiddish proverb says, "Men tracht un Got lacht." Freely translated, it means "the best way to make God laugh is to tell Him your plans." Like many Yiddish proverbs, it has its funny side, but there's an edge to it. It recognizes that the universe is still in many ways impenetrable. We can chart the structure of the genome; we can chart the courses of the stars; but we can't come close to mapping out the future. We make our plans; we strategize and build and set up structures of meaning, and then life comes along and blows a hole in them.
One of the things I like about this proverb is its essential humility about the way the world works. Distilled in its words is the wisdom of a people used to the vicissitudes of life; they know that its twists and turns are unpredictable and you should never be surprised when things turn out differently than you thought they would. There's also an essential humility about God. Nobody can read God's mind, the proverb suggests. Nobody really has a handle on what God's plan is. Best not to get too carried away with your own sense of importance. You're not as smart as you think you are, and eventually the universe will prove that to you.
9. Prayer, Doctors and Rabbi Salanter
Doctors recently conducted an unusual experiment:
In the largest study of its kind, researchers found that having people pray for heart bypass surgery patients had no effect on their recovery. In fact, patients who knew they were being prayed for had a slightly higher rate of complications.
Researchers emphasized that their work can't address whether G-d exists or answers prayers made on another's behalf. The study can only look for an effect from prayers offered as part of the research, they said.
The doctors seem to have made two mistakes:
1. They confused prayer with magic. Prayer is a request--and 'no' is also an answer.
2. They are not familiar with Rabbi Yisroel Salanter--
The story is told about Rabbi Salanter that he was at an inn he frequented. He noticed that unlike previously, the innkeeper was serving treif. He asked the innkeeper why.
The innkeeper responded that a guest had come in and say he could prove that G-d did not exist--the guest took a piece of treif meat and said that if he eats it and G-d strikes him down dead, that proves that He exists; if however the guest could eat the treif with impunity, that would prove that G-d did not exist.
The guest ate the treif, and nothing happened--and the innkeeper said he had concluded that G-d did not exist and there was no reason not to serve treif.
As he was speaking, innkeeper's daughter ran into the room telling him that she had just received a certificat in recognition of her achievements as a pianist. Rabbi Salanter called the girl over, saying that a certificate was nice, but he would like for her to prove to him how good she was.
The girl refused, saying that the certificate was proof of her expertise and she did not have to prove anything to anybody. She had already established her abilities and it was unfair to require her to demonstrate her expertise for just anyone who asks.
Rabbi Salanter replied to the innkeeper that his daughter was right--and G-d could well answer him the same way. After He redeemed us from slavery, split the sea for us, performed countless miracles for us day in and day out, is it necessary for G-d to prove Himself for every ignoramus like that guest who wanted to eat treif?
So too, G-d does not need to prove Himself, or anything, to the doctors for their study. As Jews, we know that--unlike doctors-- G-d still makes housecalls.
8. Getting There
One day, a visitor arrived at the home of Rabbi DovBer, the Maggid of Mezeritch. The visitor was an old friend of Rabbi DovBer's, who had studied with him in their youth. With great interest he observed the behavior of his former study-partner, who had since become a follower of the founder of Chassidism, Rabbi Israel Baal Shem Tov, and had assumed the leadership of the Chassidic community upon the latter's passing.
The visitor was particularly struck by the amount of time that the Chassidic master devoted to his prayers. He himself was no stranger to reflective prayer: when he and Rabbi DovBer had studied together, they had pored over the mystical teachings of the Kabbalists and would pray with the prescribed meditations, or kavanot, outlined in the writings of Kabbalah. But never in his experience had prayer warranted such long hours.
"I don't understand," he said to Rabbi DovBer, "I, too, pray with all the kavanot of the mystics. But still, my prayers do not take nearly as much time as yours do."
Rabbi DovBer's visitor was a dedicated scholar. His wife ran the family business so that he could devote all his time to Torah study. Only once a year was he forced to break from his studies for a few weeks: his wife would give him a list of the merchandise she needed and he would travel to the fair in Leipzig to wheel and deal.
"Listen," said Rabbi DovBer to his visitor, "I have an idea for you. Why must you waste precious weeks of study every year? This year, sit at home. Envision the journey to Leipzig in your mind's eye: picture every station along the way, every crossroads, every wayside inn. Then, imagine that you are at the fair, making your rounds at the booths. Call to mind the merchants that you deal with, reinvent the usual haggling and bargaining that follows. Now, load your imaginary purchases upon your imaginary cart and make the return journey. The entire operation should not take more than a couple of hours and then you can return to your beloved books!"
"That is all fine and well," replied Rabbi DovBer's friend, "but there remains one slight problem: I need the merchandise."
"The same is true with prayer and its kavanot," said Rabbi DovBer. "To envision a particular attribute of G-d in its prescribed section of the prayers, or to refer to a certain nuance of emotion in your heart at a particular passage, is all fine and well. But you see, I need the merchandise...."
7. When it's good to be a heretic
"Everything in God's creation has a purpose," a Hasidic rebbe once told his followers.
"In that case," asked a disciple, "what is the purpose of apikorsus [heresy], of denying that God exists ?"
"Apikorsus is indeed purposeful," the rebbe replied. "For when you are confronted by another who is in need, you should imagine that there is no God to help, but that you alone can meet the man's needs."
6. Partner in Creation
A famous passage in the Midrash Tanchuma relates a debate between Rabi Akiba and Tinneus Rufus, the Roman governor.
Rufus decided to summon Akiba - a rabbi known for his wisdom - less to learn from him than to outwit him and prove the superiority of his own values.
"Akiba," challenged the Roman, "whose deeds are finer? God's or those of flesh-and-blood humans?"
Tinneius Rufus assumed the rabbi would say that God's deeds are finer. But, sensing the gambit, Rabbi Akiba replied, "The deeds of humans are finer."
"Behold the heavens and the earth!" Tinneius Rufus countered. "Can man create the likes of them?"
"Don't speak to me of things over which we have no control," Akiba responded. "Speak rather in terms of a human scale."
"Well then, why are you circumcised?" Tinneius Rufus asked the rabbi.
"I knew this was really what you wanted to know," said Akiba. "Hence my previous response: that human deeds are finer than God's."
Rabbi Akiba brought Tinneius Rufus wheat stalks and cakes, flax and fine linen. "The wheat and the flax are God's handiwork," he said, "and the cakes and the linen are man's. Are not the cakes and the linen, the finished product, finer than the plain stalks, the raw material? Even you, Tinneius Rufus, cannot miss the clear analogy: We are born incomplete and perfect ourselves through following God's law."
"But if God had intended man to be circumcised," Tinneius Rufus argued, "why wasn't Adam created circumcised? Why doesn't every newborn male emerge from the womb that way?"
"You see," Akiba explained, "everything created during the six days of creation needs perfecting [tikkun]: Mustard needs sweetening, wheat needs grinding, and even man needs perfecting. This 'perfection' or purification is achieved not according to our whims but by following divinely ordained commandments."
5. Simple Prayer
This is a classical Chassidic story. One Yom Kippur, the Baal Shem Tov (founder of Chasidism) was praying together with his students in a small Polish village. Through his spiritual vision, the Baal Shem Tov had detected that harsh heavenly judgments had been decreed against the Jewish people, and he and his students were trying with all the sincerity they could muster to cry out to G-d and implore Him to rescind these decrees and grant the Jews a year of blessing.
This deep feeling took hold of all the inhabitants of the village and everyone opened his heart in deepfelt prayer.
Among the inhabitants of the village was a simple shepherd boy. He did not know how to read; indeed, he could barely read the letters of the alef-beit, the Hebrew alphabet. As the intensity of feeling in the synagogue began to mount, he decided that he also wanted to pray. But he did not know how. He could not read the words of the prayer book or mimic the prayers of the other congregants. He opened the prayer book to the first page and began to recite the letters: alef, beit, gimmel... reading the entire alphabet. He then called out to G-d: "This is all I can do. G-d, You know how the prayers should be pronounced. Please, arrange the letters in the proper way."
This simple, genuine prayer resounded powerfully within the Heavenly court. G-d rescinded all the harsh decrees and granted the Jews blessing and good fortune.
4. How to tie your shoes
Some people thinks this must be the craziest thing in the whole Code of Jewish law. According to the Shulchan Aruch, you are supposed to put your right shoe on before the left shoe, and then you have to tie the left shoelace before the right shoelace. And when taking them off it's the opposite: untie the right then the left, take off the left then the right. And a lefty does it all the other way around.
This custom is based on the belief that we have to balance our internal forces as part of our constant struggle to spiritual perfection. The shape of the human body reflects the contours of the human soul. Our body has two sides, right and left, because the soul has two distinct powers. On the one hand there is the power to give, be outward and expressive; on the other hand is the power to hold back, be inward and restrained. These are the two sides of the soul, the side of kindness and the side of discipline, that correspond to the two sides of the body, the right side and the left.
Both powers are essential. The secret to a healthy life and successful relationships is knowing how to balance these two forces -- when to be assertive and when to submit; when to be strict and when to be lenient; when to let yourself go and when to just say no.
The following story is of Rabbi Leib ben Sarah who learned this from his master, Rabbi Dov Ber, the Maggid of Mezeritch.
Rabbi Leib explained to his disciples that he did not undertake the long and hazardous journey to Mezeritch merely to hear his master's sermon on the Torah. "Instead, I went to watch him tie his shoes", said Rabbi Leib.
"Tie his shoes?" the puzzled student repeated. "Rabbi, I do not understand."
"The wisdom of the Maggid," Rabbi Leib explained, "lay not only in his insights and interpretations of the Torah but in the many ways by which he expressed that understanding through every little thing he did. His every gesture, his every word, his every bearing articulated his love for God and man. And so it must be for us all. The Torah encompasses all. To the man of God, therefore, knowing how to tie your shoes is a great accomplishment."
3. My children have defeated Me
Several astonishing rabbinic accounts describe for us how God surrendered Himself in certain halakhic matters to the authority of the Sages of Israel. The most well known story – and also the most amazing – relates to the oven of Aknai. Rabbi Eliezer and the Sages disagreed about a certain type of oven, whether or not it can contract ritual impurity:
It was taught in a Baraita: On that day, Rabbi Eliezer used all the arguments in the world, but they did not accept them from him.
He said to them: "If the Halakha is in accordance with me, let this carob tree prove it." The carob tree was uprooted from its place one hundred cubits, and some say four hundred cubits. They said to him: "One does not bring proof from a carob tree."
He then said to them: "If the Halakha is in accordance with me, let the channel of water prove it." The channel of water turned backward. They said to him: "One does not bring proof from a channel of water."
He then said to them: "If the Halakha is in accordance with me, let the walls of the House of Study prove it." The walls of the House of Study leaned to fall. Rabbi Yehoshua rebuked [the walls], saying: "If the Sages argue with one another about the Halakha, what affair is it of yours?" They did not fall, out of respect for Rabbi Yehoshua; but they did not straighten, out of respect for Rabbi Eliezer.
[Rabbi Eliezer] then said to them: "If the Halakha is in accordance with me, let it be proved from Heaven." A heavenly voice went forth and said: "Why are you disputing with Rabbi Eliezer, for the Halakha is in accordance with him everywhere?" Rabbi Yehoshua rose to his feet and said: "It is not in Heaven." What does "it is not in Heaven" mean? Rabbi Yirmiya said: That the Torah was already given on Mount Sinai, and we do not pay attention to a heavenly voice, for You already wrote in the Torah at Mount Sinai: "After the majority to incline." (Bava Metzia 59b)
What does mainstream Judaism think of the myth of the Oven of Aknai? The Soncino edition of the Talmud, the traditional English language source, describes the response of the sages to God's voice in the story as a "remarkable assertion of the independence of human reasoning". The recent Schottenstein edition of the Talmud suggests that God's intervention at Aknai was simply God's test of the determination of the sages to hold their position even against God himself. In other words, the rejection of God's attempt to intervene at Aknai is celebrated in modern Judaism as a kind of declaration of Man's Independence.
That independence is the humanist message of the Aknai story. For at Aknai, Man–human reason and power–become the measure of all things. The sages have come to their decision by argument, although their arguments are not supported by nature or by God. Trees, streams, walls and the voice of Heaven oppose their position. Nevertheless, the sages insist that they are right and by virtue of their numbers, they prevail.
R. Nathan met [the prophet] Elijah and asked him, "What did the Holy One do at that moment?" Elijah: "He laughed [with joy], saying, 'My children have defeated Me, My children have defeated Me.'"
2. God's prayer
Remarkably, the tradition addresses the notion that it is not only we who pray. We can read in the Talmud (Berachot 7a): "R. Yochanan said in the name of R. Yose, 'How do we know that the Holy One, Blessed be He, says prayers? Because it is written (Isaiah 56:7), 'I will bring them to My holy mountain and I will gladden them in My house of prayer.' It does not say the house of 'their prayer,' but beit tefillati, lit. 'the house of My prayer'; therefore we see that the Holy One, Blessed be He, says prayers.' "
The Gemara asks, "What does He pray?' R. Zutra b. Tobi said in the name of Rab, 'May it be My will that My mercy suppress My anger and that My mercy prevail over My other attributes, so that I deal with My children according to the attribute of mercy and, on their behalf, go 'lifnim mishurat ha'din - stopping short of the limit of strict justice, namely, mercifully, beyond the letter of the law' [in forgiving them their transgressions].' "
1. Trial of God
The Jewish people has suffered numerous persecution throughout history, yet their faith remains unshakeable. The following story is the ultimate proof.
At the young age of fifteen, Elie Wiesel lived in a horrible place called Auschwitz. In his memoirs about this “hell on earth,” Wiesel tells a fascinating story about a Talmud teacher who befriended the young Elie, took him to his barracks, and told him that he would witness one of the greatest trials in all of world history: The Trial of God. Three rabbis, all prisoners in Auschwitz and witnesses to the daily death machine of the Nazis, decided that it was time to place God on trial.
They formed a rabbinic court (Bet Din), and conducted the trial completely in accordance with Halakha (Jewish Law). They gathered evidence against God, building a strong case against the “Holy One Blessed Be He.” The trial lasted several days, with the judges giving all those who wished a chance to speak their minds. Witnesses were heard, painful personal testimonies were given, and in the end, young Elie remarked in amazement how none of the witnesses even remotely defended God.
It was time to issue a ruling, and the rabbinic court pronounced a unanimous verdict: “The Lord God Almighty, Creator of Heaven and Earth – guilty of crimes against creation, against humanity and against His own Chosen People of Israel.” Soon after this painful judgment was pronounced, followed by a reaction from the people that Wiesel describes as an “infinity of silence,” the rabbi presiding over the rabbinic court looked up to the sky, saw that the sun had set, and that the darkness of night was upon the world. This rabbi, who had just indicted God and pronounced Him guilty of crimes, looked towards the silenced crowd and said “Come, my friends, it is time to pray the evening prayer.”
Compiled from various sources
Topics:
Jewish Literacy
Langganan:
Postingan (Atom)