Category Archives: Holidays

The Ten Lessons

Posted on April 5, 2012 | Comments Off

THE TEN LESSONS

Numerous people have requested that I re-print part of my Shabbat HaGadol Drasha that dealt with “Pesach and Children,” and especially the ten parenting lessons that we can derive from the seder. A fuller exposition is in preparation (long, slow preparation), but I offer this extract in order, I hope, to enhance the seder, the experience of Pesach and the bonds of generations.

Obviously, the essential mitzvah of the night – relating the events of the Exodus from Egypt 3334 years – focuses on our redemption from that house of bondage through G-d’s miracles and wonders, our designation as the Chosen People that led us to receive His Torah at Sinai and to residence in His holy land of Israel. That is primary; beyond that, there are ten lessons for us to ponder as this awesome holiday arrives.

1) The seder is about roles, and life has roles. The roles need not be absolutely fixed, but they need to exist and we blur them at our peril: mother, father, husband, wife, grandfather, grandmother, child, grandchild, guest, friend, the “master of the seder,” the questioner, etc. There is a hierarchy in life, and that hierarchy is apparent at the seder, and when we attempt to transpose the roles in society, we cause damage to the framework. To understand roles is important, because without roles there can be no role models.

2) The seder, with its dialogue, discussion, bridging of generations and the shared experience of holiness can be life-transforming – because parents are there, present and accounted for. That is not always true in many families today, in which children often see a foreign caretaker more than their parents. On Pesach, there is no Abba shel Shabbat or Ima shel Shabbat. The benefits of parents and children eating together are inestimable. Even the average Shabbat has become so busy that it is no longer a day of rest. The seder reminds us of that obligation, and that paradise.

3) The Jewish home is magically transformed on Pesach – everything is new or different, and the home itself glows. It has a majesty that is hard to muster the rest of the year. For all the joys of the hotel, for a child never to experience a Pesach at home is deprivation. On Pesach, our homes are more insulated from outside influences that at any other time during the year. W should appreciate that.

4) At the beginning of the seder, we announce “all who are hungry, let them come and eat.” We may be in our castle, but to truly experience G-d’s blessings we must see beyond ourselves.

5) Every child needs a teacher, and the primary teachers in a child’s life are his/her parents. Education generally must be more than merely memorizing certain facts and rituals, and parents are indispensable in transmitting not necessarily facts but certainly experiences, memories, passion, enthusiasm, depth, and substance. However much we spend on education – and we spend a lot – we can never move too far afield from having primary responsibility for educating our children so they speak of lofty things in the home and on the road, day and night.

6) Each child is different and unique, and so no child should be forced into a mold. There are four models of children in the passage of the “Four Children,” but as the variant texts in the Hagada, the Mechilta and the Yerushalmi – and the very verses in the Torah – all make clear, there is no rigid formula for parenting. The same answer cannot be given to every child, if only because no two children ever ask the same question. The Torah offers us guidelines – but never inflexible formulas. Therefore the dialogue of parent and child must be spontaneous, not formulaic; natural, not contrived. And the most important point that a parent can convey to a Jewish child is that he is a prince and she is a princess, members of a royal people who are expected to behave like royalty (at least the way we like to assume that royalty of old behaved).

7) Life is all about details, and so the seder is therefore filled with details. Knowing one’s child means accumulating an incredible number of minute details and assembling a portrait of where he/she is in life, what his/her needs are, and how best he/she can be directed to the goal. If we don’t make the effort, then we run the risk of treating every child the same, which as sensible as putting every child in the same size suit regardless of their individual dimensions.

8) Our aspirations in life are not – should not be – material acquisitions, honor or social standing. Our aspirations in life should be character, integrity, values, ideals, redemption, and the pursuit of Torah and Mitzvot.

9) The seder is all about delayed gratification (we wait… for the meal, for the Afikoman, etc.), and the demand for instant gratification is destroying children, families, society, and American life as we know it. There is no greater metric of successful parenting than how much children have developed self-control. Pesach, and especially the seder, teach us self-control, about learning how to wait, and about how to enjoy life while waiting.

10) Redemption, too, is a lesson in patience, like the morning star that is briefly seen over the horizon and then fades, only to soon appear in all its glory. The Jewish people live in the present, but we are never weighed down by the present. We are never weighed down by the present because we are a people of history – of eternity – and because we are future-oriented. We have a deep and abiding faith, nurtured by the seder and the historic reality of “in every generation they rise against us to destroy us” that the future will progress as prophesied, and all the complications and obstacles that we fear will dissipate, that “the Holy One, Blessed be He, will save us from their hands,” from Iran’s bombs, from the rising Jew hatred across the globe, and even from “friends” who would love us to death.

We are an eternally hopeful people, and our children are the very foundation of that hope.

There is much more that was said and that could be said. For now, may we fully grasp the divine trust of children that has been given to us and raise them for the glory of G-d and the sublime destiny of the Jewish people. And together may we soon walk as families and ascend

G-d’s great mountain in His rebuilt city and Temple.

A Happy and Kosher Pesach to all !

Rabbi Steven Pruzansky

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Posted in Holidays, Machshava/Jewish Thought

Genesis of Evil

Posted on March 8, 2012 | Comments Off

One of the more enigmatic statements of Chazal asks, from Masechet Chulin 139b, “where do we find Haman mentioned in the Torah?”And the Gemara cites G-d’s statements to Adam after he was exposed in the Garden of Eden: “Hamin ha’etz…” – “did you eat from the tree from which you were expressly commanded not to eat?” “Hamin ha’etz…” is like… Haman. One need not be a deep analytical thinker to ask: what in the world is the connection between this verse and Haman? It’s not even Haman, it’s Hamin?

Why did our Sages root Haman’s presence in the Torah in that verse, and why was it necessary to find a source for Haman in the Torah altogether? After all, the story of Purim occurred during the late Biblical period, between the era of the two Temples, and long after the Torah was given. The question itself is anachronistic. Rashi says it is the juxtaposition of Haman and ha’etz – Haman was hanged on a tree – but there must be more to it.

Haman’s existence, and that of Amalek and all evildoers down to and including our day, raise the most troubling questions. How do human beings become so evil, so corrupt, so depraved, as to decide to dedicate their lives to destroying other lives? It is one of the great dilemmas of history – starting from the first such villain – Nimrod – until today. How do human beings continue to produce evil people – who can murder in the millions? Or, in just a cursory look around the world today – scoundrels like Assad, the Castro brothers, Mugabe and others – people who kill and incarcerate their own; or an Ahmadinejad and his cohorts, people who are actively and overtly plotting to destroy another nation. How does all this evil endure, and where does it end?

And there is smaller evil as well, that affects not millions or thousands, but cruelty to even one other person that is inexplicable. How can we comprehend people who will willingly and eagerly destroy their own lives for the dubious “pleasure” of destroying someone else’s life – a spouse, a child, a co-worker, or an employee – regardless of the rationalizations they use and the emotional illnesses from which they suffer?

In a sentence, “where do we find Haman mentioned in the Torah?” Where do we find the roots of evil in the Torah?

And Chazal answered quite cogently and brilliantly – it all started in the Garden of Eden, with the stumbling of Adam and the collapse of the pristine, ideal Paradise. Rav Eli Horowitz, hy”d, quoted Rav Zvi Yehuda Kook that the cardinal sin in Eden was “peirud”- separation or estrangement – separation of man from G-d for sure, but especially separation of the Tree of Knowledge from the tree of life. When knowledge is used properly, it promotes life, prosperity and happiness. But when knowledge and life become separate and distinct, they become antagonistic as well, and there will be those who use their knowledge for malevolence, for wickedness, for absolute evil.

Evil results from estrangement from G-d. Obviously, that is the source of the evil of atheists (like Stalin, Mao and others) but also is the source of the evil of those with a false conception of G-d. And even Jews who otherwise practice many mitzvot but are cruel and heartless to others are ultimately estranged from G-d.

What a question: Hamin ha’etz… ?! “Did you eat from the tree from which you were expressly commanded not to eat?” What is the genesis of inv and all his imitators? All the world’s troubles stem from this sin – the tension between men and women, the tension between man and his environment, and the tension between man and G-d – and especially the disconnect between man and the way he is supposed to live – capable of living – and the way he actually lives. All evil is still rooted in that first sin. And its offspring lives – either the seed of Amalek or the spirit of Amalek, and sometimes both.

How then do we remedy the world’s troubles and diminish the lingering effects of Amalek and Haman? Well, certainly by remembering Amalek and celebrating Purim, but also by restoring the state of Eden as best we can – by reconnecting with the Torah in all aspects of our lives, by not despairing when we see bad Jews or bad people, by rededicating ourselves to the mandate of Gan Eden – to serve and to preserve. To paraphrase Rav Kook, we can curse the darkness or we can light a candle. It is better to light a candle.

The Gemara sounds inscrutable – “whence do we know Haman from the Torah?” – but in fact Chazal here elucidate one of the most complex and troublesome issues of our world. It is all part of the divine system – even the potential for failure and especially the opportunity to rectify it and elevate it, to eradicate evil one bit at a time. Therein lies our purpose, and the gift of eternity awarded to us in the words of the prophet Shmuel, that the Eternal One of Israel does not lie – in His promises, His guarantees, or in His assurance that as He did for our ancestors miracles and wonders for them at this time’ so will He for us.

Happy Purim to all !

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Posted in Contemporary Life, Current Events, Holidays, Machshava/Jewish Thought

“Embarrassed” by Chanuka

Posted on December 28, 2011 | 9 comments

A rabbi, on the leftist fringe of Orthodoxy, is embarrassed by Chanuka without actually saying so explicitly. In a denunciation of religious extremism and arrogance, he cites, of all people, Matityahu, not the newly-shorn reggae star but the patriarch of the Chashmonaim. The rebellion of Chanuka began in Modiin when Matityahu killed a Jew who was about to bring an idolatrous offering to the Greek gods, an act compounded by Matityahu’s declaration: “Whoever is for G-d, to me!” That statement was clearly meant to evoke Moshe’s identical statement when he rallied the faithful Jews after the sin of the golden calf, certainly an action supported by the Torah.

Concludes our writer: “There is only one small difference. The Levites were acting under God’s direct command, whereas Matityahu was acting on his own religious zeal and certitude. While we see God’s hand working through the Maccabees, and while were it not for Matityahu’s rebellion the miracle of Chanukah never would have happened, we do not have to endorse this initial act of killing another Jew who was violating the Law. We do not have to endorse an approach that turns a tzaddik into a kanai, a zealot.”

At least he doesn’t go so far as to turn Matityahu into a rasha, an evildoer, but merely, a zealot. But he was a zealot, as were his sons, and that is why they were successful, and why we celebrate Chanuka until today.

The linguistic acrobatics performed here are worthy of a circus act. “Were it not for Matityahu’s rebellion, the miracle of Chanuka never would have happened,” so the rebellion ostensibly was a good thing. But “we do not have to endorse this initial act of killing,” because apparently it was a bad thing. But if it was a bad thing, he shouldn’t have done it; but if he didn’t do it, there might not have been a rebellion – after all, “the initial act of killing” was the rebellion. Hmmm…quite a predicament: how can we make Chanuka palatable to the religious left, since it seems to be rooted in many doctrines that are anathema to the religious left: objective truth, moral certitude, justified violence, fierce nationalism and religious zeal. That is quite a predicament.

Perhaps the rabbi has in mind that Matityahu should have led non-violent rallies against the enemy, written some nasty letters to the editor, negotiated peace with the Syrian conquerors, or – perhaps even better – allowed himself to be killed while not-resisting, so that 2250 years later liberal Jews would not have to be embarrassed by his actions which only serve to ruin their celebrations of Chanuka. How short-sighted of Matityahu…

Matityahu and his sons did not believe in religious freedom, or in pluralism, or in peace with the invader, or in sharing the land of Israel with foreigners. They believed in the absolute truth of Torah, in the sanctity of mitzvot, and in an uncompromising loyalty to the Creator, and they were willing to die for their beliefs. And almost all of them did die for their beliefs, including the most famous son of Matityahu, Yehuda HaMaccabee, who was killed in battle not long after the Menora miracle of Chanuka took place.

It must be painful to celebrate a festival that is repeatedly mentioned in our prayers with a passage that begins “in the days of Matityahu,” and then to have to read approvingly how they “stood against the evil Greek kingdom that attempted to cause them to forget the Torah and to cause them to stray from the statutes of Your will.” It must be even more painful to be forced to recall three times a day that “You, in Your abundant compassion, stood with them in their time of travail,” and with His help they prevailed over their enemies.

How to avoid such pain, or such cognitive dissonance between the real Chanuka and the contrived Chanuka ? Our writer: “We choose what to remember, and we choose how to see God in the world.” That is to say, since we are troubled (sometimes rightfully so) by religious certitude, arrogance and zealotry, we will eliminate those postures from our celebration of Chanuka, notwithstanding that without those, there is no Chanuka. So he chooses to focus on the miracle of the oil (unmentioned in the Chanuka prayer “al hanissim”) rather than on the rebellion and the military victory that the miracle of the Menora only came to ratify – to confirm that all aspects of Chanuka were the handiwork of G-d.

The psychological disconnect of Chanuka from modern, liberal sensibilities results from the Maccabim’s rejection of democracy (they were the “few against the many”), humanism (they were the “pure against the impure”), moral relativism (they were the “righteous against the wicked”), pluralism (they were “the diligent students of Torah against the wanton violators”), and reason (they were the “weak against the strong”). All the pillars of the liberal Jew wobble each time the name Matityahu is mentioned, and each time the miracle of Chanuka is commemorated amid feasting and rejoicing, the lighting of the Menorah and the singing of Hallel.

Of course, there is always a real choice for every Jew – a choice not to try to force the round peg of Torah into the square hole of modern liberalism. There is always a choice – to conform our ideas to those of the Torah, and not try to distort the Torah so they it conforms to our predilections. There is even a choice to re-think cherished assumptions, primarily that good and evil, morality and immorality, and right and wrong, are determined not by the editorial pages of the New York Times but only by the Torah.

The subtle attempt to link Matityahu’s “extremism” with the evildoers of Bet Shemesh fails, except to the extent that any disfavored violence should be attributed to disfavored people. The Ultra-Distorters who spit on little girls are not Matityahu reincarnate because their motivations are impure and repugnant, and their sexual hang-ups both bizarre and un-Jewish. Their lifestyle and values, such as they are, reflect an obscene failure of education, upbringing and Torah knowledge. The simplest solution would be to imprison them where they can be kept apart from decent society. They are too easy a target even to criticize – but not a rightist fringe of Jewish life; there is nothing “right” about them – and they have few defenders of any standing in the Rabbinical or Jewish world.

But Chanuka celebrates certainty. It is why we have survived many cruel and harsh enemies, and even survived many pleasant-sounding notions that are really the death knell of Jewish life. Jewish nationalism is not restricted to jingoistic expressions of greatness but is designed to cultivate a nation that will better the world and be a source of blessing for the entire planet. The celebration of Chanuka internalizes that objective and advances that goal – of pride and accomplishment, of purposeful survival, of righteousness and faith, of self-sacrifice and intense dedication to Torah – and to true Jewish values.

So thank you, Matityahu and family, and happy Chanuka to all.

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Posted in Contemporary Life, Current Events, Holidays, Jewish History

Chanuka and Chosenness

Posted on December 22, 2011 | 3 comments

The Rambam (Hilchot Chanuka 3:3) writes that we light candles for the eight days of Chanuka in order to “demonstrate and publicize the miracle.” Since, as we know, the Rambam was meticulous in his language, what is the difference between l’har’ot (demonstrate) and l’galot (publicize) ?

Moreover, the Rambam continues that “the mitzva of Ner Chanuka is most precious (chaviva hi ad me’od) and one has to be extremely careful in order to inform others of the miracle, and to expand on it in praise and thanksgiving to G-d.”

But why is this particular mitzva so precious ? There are other mitzvot that we have that also purport to publicize miracles – most famously the reading of the Megila and the drinking of four cups of wine on Pesach. In neither place does Rambam call those mitzvot precious – so why does he use that term only in reference to Ner Chanuka ? And why do we say of the Chanuka candles that they are “holy” – what’s so holy about Ner Chanuka ?

And one other, fundamental question: Why Chanuka ? Why do we commemorate ancient but short-lived victories ? The Chashmonaim had their moment and served a valuable function 22 centuries ago, but they disappeared 20 centuries ago. The monarchy they established was a fleeting phenomenon in Jewish history, and the Mikdash they lovingly rededicated was destroyed two centuries later – so why celebrate their achievements that have long ago been dimmed by history ?

Rav Soloveitchik zt”l explained by citing the Gemara Shabbat (22b) that the Menorah in the Mikdash served only one purpose: “it was evidence that the Divine Presence rests on the Jewish people.” So, too, the Rav said, Ner Chanuka is a symbol of G-d’s enduring presence among the Jewish people in every age and in every location in the world. In essence, in the absence of the Mikdash, Ner Chanuka is the means by which we demonstrate every year that we are the Chosen People.

That was one of the primary clashes between the Jews and the Hellenists. The latter maintained that the Jewish people had to renounce any notion of chosenness, to them a cause of Jew-hatred that we ourselves provoked. They argued that we were just like everyone else, and the very concept of a “chosen” people was repugnant to their modern sensibilities.

It still is. Of course, the early Christians claimed for themselves the mantle of the New Israel, but it fascinating that the early Americans did the same. The Pilgrims called themselves New Israel, sprinkled the colonies liberally with biblical names, and saw America as the “Promised Land.” Benjamin Franklin even wanted the Great Seal of the US to depict the crossing of the Red Sea, and Thomas Jefferson thought a better image was the Israelites in the wilderness being led by a pillar of fire and a cloud. (Instead, they chose the bald eagle and other symbols.)

Nonetheless, all this imagery – and the idea of a “manifest destiny” – fed the notion of American exceptionalism, which, sad to say, even high-ranking American politicians have repudiated of late. And even Jews are uncomfortable with the concept of an “am hanivchar.”. One of my putative colleagues on the far left fringe of the Orthodox rabbinate not long ago described the notion of chosenness as “a moment of imperfection in G-d’s creation and decision-making.” It is “problematic” to single out one people for leadership. Hmmm…well, someone’s imperfect.

The publicizing of Chanuka is not merely a reminder of the miracle of Chanuka and the salvation of Israel from our enemies, but primarily proof that the divine presence rests on the people of Israel. Our relationship with G-d is based on two components – our acceptance of

G-d’s oneness and the special character of the descendants of Avraham. That’s why the Rambam says the mitzvah is “to demonstrate and publicize the miracle” – to demonstrate what is already known but also to reveal what is not widely known, or widely accepted: to explain why we fought then, why we fight today, what G-d expects of us, and what is His vision for mankind.

And that is why the Ner Chanuka is a “very precious Mitzva,” treasured and cherished, and why these flames are holy, set aside not to use but to examine, understand, and investigate this unique phenomenon of an eternal people and its relationship to the Creator. Megila and the four cups on Pesach recall a particular event – Chanuka is more than that: it is a celebration of our unique relationship with G-d that has never faltered and that transcends time and space.

Thus, after the victory, the Chashmonaim endeavored to formalize the notion of the chosen people in halacha – reinforcing the ban on intermarriage, and adding to the laws of purity and impurity – all of which served to stem the tidal wave of assimilation in those days, and serves as a model for our time as well. That is the Chanuka that deserves celebration every year. It is not just the miracles of old, but His loving embrace that reminds us then and now that redemption comes not through might or power but through G-d’s spirit, and our fidelity to that spirit.

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Posted in Contemporary Life, Current Events, Holidays, Israel, Jewish History