Category Archives: Current Events

Prayer

      Prayer is a daily obligation of every Jew, and therefore can become a most difficult endeavor. The dangers of insincere, lackadaisical or rote prayer are known to all – it was known in the time of the Talmud as well – and the struggle to maintain one’s sharpness or enthusiasm in prayer is constant. Too many people typically perceive prayer as a last resort, as something you do when all else has failed, as something you do when you want or need something – the province of the weak and the desperate. But that is only one – and a very narrow dimension – of prayer.

       Hundreds gathered at the Kotel in August for a prayer rally in support of Gilad Schalit, the captured Israeli soldier held by Hamas in defiance of international law and on the occasion of his 23rd birthday. There really is only one happy ending to his saga that I pray for daily: that he be rescued alive and all his captors killed. There is no other happy ending possible. Interviewed at the Kotel, Noam Schalit, father of Gilad, was quoted as saying: “We are not optimistic. If we were optimistic, we would not have come to pray.”

        I certainly have no intention of criticizing him, whose pain is intense and unimaginable. He was speaking off the cuff, and under great stress, and might have been misquoted. And I mention his statement only because it reveals an approach to prayer that many of us might share – prayer as the last resort, as asking for things, as making requests – and nothing more. It literally reflects the English word “prayer,” meaning “beg,” and was the type of prayer that the ancient Egyptian Pharaoh beseeched Moshe after several of the plagues: “Beseech G-d for me.” And immediately after Moshe did so, Pharaoh reverted to his hard-heartedness.  

      Making requests of G-d is a type of prayer and perfectly appropriate – but not what we would call tefila. And if requests (or demands) of G-d are the sum and substance of our worship, then such an experience can easily leave us desiccated and disappointed, frustrated and flustered, bigheaded and bored with the entire process. It is not always about us.

      I was chatting recently with a high school administrator about the well known difficulties of tefila among high school youth. They are bored and bewildered by the whole experience, and every school labors to find the right mechanism to inspire their students. He deduced that too many people pray – even come to synagogue – for two bad reasons: coercion and guilt. Some are forced to (as in high school, or in the case of adults who want to be part of a community or social group for which one price of admission is weekly attendance at synagogue). Others feel guilty not doing it. He related to me that when he was 20 years old, he was learning in shul before Mincha on Yom Kippur when an older man walked up to him, expressing surprise that he was learning just for the sake of learning – and said that he is in shul for only one reason – and this was on Yom Kippur day (!): if he weren’t, his father would be spinning in his grave. Guilt.

     Too many people come to synagogue with those motivations, and it is typically reflected in their level of interest and behavior, and the quality of their davening – and perceived quite easily by their children. But that’s what happens when tefila becomes only asking for things, a laundry list of requests from G-d as Santa Claus. No wonder teens find it hard to daven – how much do they have to ask for (we give them almost everything), and how much of our daily tefila really involves these supplications? Perhaps 5 minutes out of 30, not much at all.

     Rav Kook wrote that true tefila emerges from a thirst for G-d – itself a rare sensation today – and must be directed at Him in totality, and not to a particular attribute like His compassion. Rav Kook characterized tefila as “service of G-d with one’s emotions,” contrasting it with Torah study that is “service of G-d with one’s intellect.” That is not to say that the intellect plays no role in tefila; it is to say that prayer and Torah study are two different experiences. I note parenthetically that both the ArtScroll siddur, and the new Rabbi Sacks siddur are fine works (each with its own passionate advocates), with many fascinating insights about tefila. Both are filled with ideas, but both are missing something – the heart, the experience of standing before the King of Kings, and the sense of awe and reverence that should engender. But that cannot come from a siddur – that has to come from us.

       Those siddurim tell us what to contemplate, but not what to experience. They cannot convey the prayer that Rav Kook described as the “revelation of the depth of the soul,” and the spontaneous outpouring of the real person. The real person, as Rav Kook saw it, is primarily expressed through the emotions, not the intellect. The proof is that we don’t always obey the intellect – but we always know how we feel. (Of course, ideally, our emotions are shaped by our intellectual attainments.) That is the part of the human personality that is accessed during prayer, and that is why we – who often live purposely superficial existences – can find prayer difficult and exasperating.

      Pharaoh of old knew only begging, until the very end when he asked Moshe to bless him – in the language of tefila and not the language of begging. Until then, Pharaoh’s heart hardened after each time he sought Moshe’s intercession – because the beggar is never satisfied. There are always new requests that have to be granted. Prayer as begging will always be inherently unsatisfying, always leave us wanting more – more things, not more tefila. Requests are a part of tefila, but not an essential part.

      What makes tefila difficult is what makes it so sublime. It is not the quota of words we say or even our mouths that utter them – but rather the expression of what is inside us – our thoughts, our feelings, the framework and mindset with which we stand before G-d. Such prayer requires patience, practice and effort – but such prayer can be a joy, an inspiration, and an example for us and to mankind as to the way to properly relate to and serve the Creator.

Losing the Next War by Fighting the Last War

 NOTE: This essay will appear as an op-ed article in next week’s Jewish Press.   

   Like the general who hones his military strategy by fighting the last war, America’s politicians and some of its counter-terrorism experts are engaged in thwarting future terrorist threats by diligently preparing for the past. Muslim-Arab terrorist hijack planes (this actually dates back to the 1960’s, not 2001), and all passengers and the luggage must be carefully searched. A Muslim “shoe bomber” attempts to explode an aircraft in 2001, and all passengers thenceforth must have their shoes inspected before boarding. Another Muslim – the recent “underwear bomber” – tries to do the same, and all passengers, as soon as feasible, will be subject to body scans and intrusive searches. And the likelihood that another Muslim will try to explode an aircraft with a bomb smuggled in his carry-on, shoes, or underwear? Slim, at best. The terrorists move on, adapt their strategies to the new restrictions and develop new means of potential mayhem. And we still fight the last war. Why?

     The sad truth is that America, Israel and the West generally do not have a plan for victory, and, for the most part, do not even speak of victory. President Obama, who never utters the words victory or terrorism, articulated a plan that is fundamentally defensive in nature – more TSA workers, more screening, more invasive searches, etc. – but does not begin to address the reality of the enemy that has declared war on civilization. The focus is almost exclusively on what is called “the protocol” – having the right system in place so that in the event of a catastrophe, the politicians and bureaucrats can cover their tracks and rely on “the protocol” – even if “the protocol” is either unnecessary or ineffective in dealing with the threat. They are procedures that are more intended to save jobs than save lives, and unnecessarily inconvenience millions rather than expose the few hundred likely villains.

    Who but a bureaucrat living in a bureaucratic bubble could have devised a system in which passengers using the self check-in system at the airport (or on-line) are asked whether or not they are carrying bombs, weapons or other hazardous items? For the overwhelming majority of passengers, the question is obviously ludicrous – and for the miniscule few to whom it might apply, can we seriously expect a truthful answer? Did the bureaucrat assume that a Muslim might blow up an airliner and murder hundreds of innocents, but would never lie about it? Or did he expect that some would answer truthfully (“yes, I have a small explosive device in my left shoe, thank you for asking”), and thereby engender the “reasonable suspicion” needed to make further inquiries? One additional question: seven years into the security afforded by TSA: have they apprehended even one Arab terrorist at an airport checkpoint? Not to my knowledge, although the TSA is doing a banner business in shampoo and water bottle confiscations.

      In a world in which anyone with a functioning intellect and below-average vision sees that all terrorists are Muslims, even if not all Muslims are terrorists, the solution to the air terrorism problem lies mostly in screening all Muslims and Arabs – i.e., racial profiling. At this point in time, not to single out potential perpetrators from the masses of innocents is political correctness run amok, or, said another way, rank insanity. Israel routinely profiles based on race – and we have all experienced the pointed questions of the El Al interrogators (“When does Tu B’Shvat fall?”) that are intended to weed out the few who, by their answers, mannerisms, facial expressions, or Arabic accents, require special attention.

      In a perfect world, it would be nice to treat everyone equally, but in a perfect world, everyone would act decently. The world is far from perfect, and a defined group – Arabs and Muslims – have created a scourge that has murdered thousands of people across the globe, heightened the anxieties of billions more, and lust for even more spilled blood. The extent to which guiltless Arabs and Muslims are offended by this discrimination has an upside to it: they can trigger a revolution in their societies to denounce, ostracize and eliminate these miscreants from their midst, the only long-term solution to this evil.

      Will such a policy engender anger and hatred against Western society by these same guiltless Arabs? Anyone who believes that is actually part of the problem, having swallowed the propaganda fostered by those with perpetual and unassuageable grievances against civilized mankind. Despite the hostile anti-American propaganda emanating from the Arab world, America still opens its doors and universities to Arab students. Perhaps this outreach should also be re-considered while the war rages, especially from countries or regions where terrorists are coddled and/or supported.

     The broader problem is the “lawyerization” of conflict that is an affliction of the modern left. In the drive for perfect equality and the obliteration of any distinctions between the good and the evil, the rights of the few imperil the protections of the many. Thus, the left recoils at the notion of racial profiling because the innocents in the defined class will be offended. Law, then, serves to destabilize society rather than promote its general welfare.     

      That is also the message sent when terrorists who attack Americans and others are treated as common criminals – defendants rather than ruthless thugs who wish to die and so do not deserve life. Certainly the protections afforded to soldiers by the Geneva Conventions do not apply to terrorists – to combatants of non-state actors who do not wear uniforms and prey on ordinary citizens.

      Similarly, in two other examples of the growing incapacity of the political left to combat the evil within, Israel’s High Court recently ordered the re-opening to Arab traffic of Highway 443 – a major artery linking Modiin and Yerushalayim – years after Arabs were barred from that road because of their persistent terror. Clearly, the price for the Court’s “moral” vision will be dead and maimed Jews. Equally as clearly, the Court is adamantly refusing to recognize that a state of war exists between two societies in the land of Israel, and that the rights of civilized citizens should take precedence over the rights of hostile non-citizens.

     And in what should be a bit a bizarre satire but is not, Israel’s Chief of Staff directed that the IDF consult with legal advisers during military operations (instead of in the planning stage, as is done now) in order to ensure compliance with international law. Perhaps each soldier should also be provided with a personal lawyer on retainer (in addition to a weapon and a mess kit) that he can consult before firing his weapon or artillery. Such a ruling does more than merely impair military efficiency and morale; it sends a message to the enemy of weakness, vacillation, vulnerability and loss of will to win. It does not underscore that we are better – we know we are better – but that we are more foolish, allowing enemies of civilization to exploit our freedoms and moral aspirations and use them as weapons against us, at the same time they are unencumbered by any such commitments.

      Taken together, the criminalization of terror, the eschewing of profiling, the opening of one major highway (surely to be followed by others) to terrorists and the supporters and facilitators of terror, and the lawyerization of warfare – all desired objectives of the enemy because it weakens the ability of moral man to fight – demonstrate that the American and Israeli political/judicial left are incapable of fighting a modern, asymmetrical war.

     It should be obvious that society must make choices, and must carefully choose to inflict minor inconveniences on some in order to protect the rights – and the lives – of the many. The search for perfect justice – a fantasy of the left – unwittingly strengthens and perpetuates evil, enervates our will to win, and victimizes the good and the decent, who, if not defeated first, will surely arise and come to their senses, vanquish the external enemy and overcome the perverters of justice and morality within our countries. We can assist by holding accountable our politicians and leaders – in the United States and Israel – to the standards of decency and morality that are practicable during the course of a protracted and ugly war, and thereby hasten the day when the foes of mankind will be subjugated and humbled.

Parenting

     Our forefathers all had parenting challenges, but none more than Yaakov, our ancestor who was closest to us in time and life experience. In a sense, Yaakov had more difficulties in raising his children – for the most part, as a single parent – than did Avraham or Yitzchak. It is easier to raise children if one is righteous and one is wicked. We have clearer guidelines when the dichotomy is black and white. Between Yitzchak and Yishmael, between Yaakov and Esav – there are separate, distinct paths. Shades of gray – the dazzling diversity of Yaakov’s children as exemplified by his blessings – are more difficult to manage and direct, and Yaakov was blessed with twelve colorful children, thirteen if Dina is counted, all whom required direction and discipline. And the stakes were never greater.

      Somehow, despite their famous feuds, all of Yaakov’s sons gathered around his deathbed, and Yaakov was quite precise in identifying their uniqueness, their personalities, and their destinies are part of the nation of Israel. Of the twelve, only Shimon and Levi are described as “brothers” – in Ramban’s phrase, “complete brothers, resembling each other in a brotherly way in thought and deed.” All the others were individualists – and Yaakov raised them all, and uneasily, with one objective: to create the nucleus of G-d’s people. So how does one rear – and discipline – diverse children?

     The model of our forefathers – and life itself – reinforces that there is no perfect system and no guarantee of ultimate success – but there are patterns that lead to successful discipline that in many ways is on the wane today. Here are some rudimentary thoughts:

       Firstly, a parent must be a parent first, and a friend second or third, if at all. A child has friends – a child needs parents. A parent who acts like a child is not acting like a parent – and a parent who feels a need to ingratiate himself/herself to a child or who craves the child’s approval is also not acting like a parent. And a child needs a parent. I recently heard, incredulously, about the mindboggling case of parents who allow their children to smoke marijuana in their home – preferring that they smoke there “under supervision” than outside the home without supervision. Heaven save us – and children – from such “parents” (and their not-so-supervision) who through their children are undoubtedly re-living their wayward youth that apparently turned out so…well, or from parents whose search for personal happiness induces them into shirking or abandoning their parental responsibilities.

      Parenting, secondly, requires occasionally saying “no.” Not always saying “no” or always saying “yes,” but occasionally saying “no.” A friend rarely says “no” – or you would just find another friend. There are parents who feel their children will love them less if they say “no.” In fact, the opposite is true – children love their parents more when the parents set limits. Limits – discipline – are examples of parental love, not only authority. In truth, parents whose good values have been absorbed by their children (and whose personal virtues have been witnessed by their children) will have to say “no” less frequently as the child grows in adolescence, not more frequently.

     Rav Shlomo Wolbe cited the verse in Zecharia (11:7) as illustrative of the two models of parenting: “And I took two staffs, one I called noam, “pleasantness” and the other chovlim, “destruction,” and I shepherded the flock.” Parents have two tools of discipline – noam and chovlim – at their disposal, and must choose wisely.

      There is a destructive form of discipline – when the parent thinks he/she can create a clone of himself/herself and becomes intolerant of any deviation. The child must look, speak, think and act like the parent, walk in the parent’s footsteps – live in the same community, attend the same school, etc. That is wonderful if the child so chooses, and destructive if it is coercive. It is destructive when parents discipline in anger, and without reason or rationale. That is the “makel chovlim”– the destructive staff.

     The “makel noam” is pleasant – it rewards, it gives incentives, it provides guidelines, and it sends a message of love. Discipline is like the guardrails on a narrow, winding road; guardrails are not unreasonable constraints on one’s freedom but rather expressions of societal concern and caring. Guardrails do prevent one from experiencing the exhilaration of sailing over a cliff, but also spare one the gruesome reality of hitting rock bottom. Guardrails allow room for maneuverability – within limits. The great criticism lodged against King David, who also struggled with many of his children, is that he never disciplined his rebellious son Adoniyahu – “His father never aggrieved him” (I Kings 1:6) – never caused him any grief, never challenged him, and never said “no.”

      Thirdly, it is no crime not to be able to afford something – especially these days when many parents seem to fear telling their children “we cannot afford that, you can’t buy that.” Indeed, it is no crime not to buy something even if you can afford it. Nor is it a crime to say “no” – “you can’t go there, you can’t watch this, you can’t buy this” – even if all your child’s friends can. Parents who judge their worth based on what they give their child materially are not really worth that much, or giving them that much. There are vapid politicians today who lament that our children’s generation might be the first in American history not to out-earn their parents – and the very sentiment corrupts our children’s values. So what if they are not wealthier – there are greater, more valuable legacies we can leave our children. Would we be in a state of deprivation if we had the same material bounty, or even a little less, than the last two generations? Certainly not.

      Yaakov’s twelve sons were not an easy bunch – they were strong-willed, complicated, dynamic individuals who had legendary problems with each other and occasionally with their father. Yet, when Yaakov said “gather and listen,” they gathered and listened. And he blessed them, each with a personally appropriate blessing.

       For a parent to bless a child requires that the parent knows both his child, and the blessing. To know the child and not know the blessing is as ineffectual as knowing the blessing but not how to transmit it to the child. We need both.

         To know one’s child requires insight and objectivity, and to know the blessing – to recognize and use the “staff of pleasantness”– requires knowledge of Torah, and the spirit of our ancestors, our fathers and mothers, our grandfathers and grandmothers. And then we will merit children who are productive Jews and responsible adults, we will be positive role models to the world, and our national history will reach its inevitable – and grand – climax.

A Decade

    “If you could travel back in time to 1999, you’d be struck by a remarkable air of unreality. The Cold War had ended, Communism had been defeated, capitalism had triumphed, history was over.”

     So reported the Wall Street Journal in December, and what a difference a decade makes. Old enemies died, Communism was consigned – as President Reagan had predicted – to the ash heap of history (except on some US college campuses) and the former bastions of Communism – China and Russia – became uneasy but (mostly) free enterprisers, although without the trickle down benefits to the masses. At the same time, American capitalism suffered staggering blows – owing to capitalism’s great weakness (the inability to eradicate greed from human nature), the financial chicanery among the greedy, the persistence of the business cycle, and the gambling instinct of Americans financial wizards who were fueled by the knowledge that officialdom would bail out their losses – literally – to the tune of billions of dollars.

    And new enemies were born, marking not the end of history but a decisive shift back to the 7th century. Arab terrorists laid low great symbols of American success and prosperity, and the dust of the World Trade Center has still not completely settled. American wars in the Middle East consumed much of the decade, and show no signs of retrenchment; American involvement may end, but the hostilities will continue – and we will be forced to re-visit such events as the “Hundred Years War (mid-14th – mid-15th centuries) or the “Thirty Years War” (17th century) to begin to understand the nature of enduring conflict.

     A decade always brings change (farewell cassette tapes and answering machines). Nevertheless, what is more remarkable than the faux serenity of the 90’s (or 50’s, by the Jewish calendar) is the reality that, as the French say, plus ça change, plus c’est la même chose – the more things change, the more they stay the same. The United States began the decade in recession and ended it in another recession – and few, understandably, remember the prosperity in between. The decade began with Iraq (by its own admission) seeking weapons of mass destruction and threatening Israel, and ends with Iran (by its own admission) doing the same. Israel began the decade with the kidnapping of three soldiers in Lebanon (whose corpses were released four years later in exchange hundreds of hardened terrorists) and ends the decade contemplating another such exchange – releasing even more bloodthirsty terrorists. A Prime Minister Netanyahu planned secret talks with the Syrians over the disposition of the Golan Heights in 1999, and again in 2009. Rockets fell on Sderot in 2000, and still fall today. Ehud Barak planned retreats as Prime Minister in 2000, and as Defense Minister in 2010. Shimon Peres held, and still holds, positions of power and leadership.

      Five prime ministers served Israelis in the past decade – Barak, Ariel Sharon, Ehud Olmert, Tzipi Livni and Netanyahu – each struggling to maintain the status quo (and largely failing) and none imbued with new ideas or even a coherent vision to move beyond the quicksand of the “peace process” and on to a more secure footing of building, growth, and progress. Each muddled through in his/her own way, dealing with the occasional cataclysm – relentless terror, expulsion, two wars, and shortly, the Iranian threat – but with a slowly deteriorating strategic situation. If survival in a hostile neighborhood is an accomplishment, then each were accomplished but failed to achieve larger, more productive goals.

     Who would not wish to roll back the political clock twenty years? In 1990, Israel controlled south Lebanon, Judea, Samaria, and Gaza – and terror consumed several dozen lives per year. By 2000, Israel had retreated from much of Gaza and parts of YESHA, and was startled by an unprecedented campaign of terror in its cities that ultimately murdered more than a thousand Jews and maimed thousands more. Israel in 2000 fled Lebanon “never to return,” until the rockets of 2006 forced Israel into a brief but disastrous war. Hezbollah’s arsenal of 10,000 rockets and missiles was neutralized, but now replaced with an arsenal of 40,000 rockets and missiles awaiting a new spark. As 2010 dawns, Lebanon is again a tinderbox and largely controlled by Hezbollah, Gaza is lost for the foreseeable future, and Judea and Samaria are frozen – for what reason and for how long are still not fully known. Terror is – momentarily and we pray longer – dormant, the result of constant vigilance, patrols and pre-emptive strikes – thus the simple (and the venal) see the quiet and call for relaxing the measures that have produced the quiet. The “peace process” has been all process, no peace.  That history is, assuredly, not at all over.

     Is everything the same? Certainly not. We have all aged, loved ones have left us, and new ones are born. We change – each and every one of us – although the changes can be so gradual that we don’t notice them immediately. The Torah we learn seeps into us, and, in Rabbi Akiva’s simile, slowly erodes our resistance to its ideas and values like water dripping on a stone. We become minyanaires – attending daily – and mark our day with Torah study and acts of chesed. We understand life a little more, and a little better. We become more involved in community and the world around us.

      There is a similitude in finance, politics and history – but not in one’s spiritual life. A person who boasts that he/she is exactly the same spiritually in 2010 as in 2000 has essentially wasted ten years – and, sadly, is probably worse today than a decade ago. In Torah and divine service, we never stay the same – we either progress or regress. If we look at ourselves carefully and critically (but charitably) undoubtedly we have all progressed, and aspire to attaining even greater spiritual heights.

     “A generation comes and a generation goes, but the earth endures forever” (Kohelet 1:4). But more than the “earth” endures – so do our dreams and our quests, our desire to know more, accomplish more and be better people – better Jews, better parents and children, better employers and employees, better baalei chesed. With the blessings of life come the challenges that we confront daily, and the opportunities that come our way and that we squander at our peril. Evil is the same, although its face changes, but the internal enemy always poses a greater threat than the external ones. The world-at-large may stay the same – because human nature never changes – but the world of each individual is unique, fluid, and dynamic, as we strive to ascend to greater spiritual and personal heights, each day and each year. And we pray that very soon redemption comes to a world that desperately needs it, and through the Jewish people who must be the catalysts for good and for the manifestation of G-d’s kingdom on earth.