Category Archives: Holidays

The Individual and the Community

    The Korban Pesach is unique in many ways, but none more so than this: it is defined as a private offering, but yet it supersedes Shabbat. In every other circumstance, a private korban does not override Shabbat. So, too, there are occasions when this individual offering will be brought when the offerors are in a state of impurity. In every other case, only a korban tzibur, a public offering overrides Shabbat or impurity. So into what category does the Korban Pesach fit?

     Another question for the seder: the “wicked son” is castigated not for his question but for its implications – “because he ostracizes himself from the Jewish people, he denies the existence of G-d.” But why ? Just because he separates himself from the Jewish people, does that necessarily mean he denies G-d’s existence ? What is the connection ?

     And the Mechilta, citing the wicked son’s question, expounds it in a fascinating way: “‘And when your sons will say to you…’ – There is good news and bad news: the bad news is that there will come a time when your children will forget the Torah; but the good news is – at least you’ll have children and grandchildren.” Two conflicting approaches to one common dilemma: is the wicked son a blessing or a curse, good news or bad news ?

     Rav Zvi Yehuda Kook explained that the Korban Pesach resembles both an individual and communal offering, because it defined for all time the relationship of the individual to the community. The Korban Pesach was a private offering, but it had to be consumed in a group, with others. There is no other mitzva that obligates a person to join with others – that obligates him to create a group and find his spiritual fulfillment in that group. The Korban Pesach inherently had a communal component to it – and therefore, like other public offerings, it superseded both Shabbat and impurity.

       That is a far-reaching concept. Man struggles to find the right balance between the rights of the individual and the rights of the community, between what I can do for myself and what I must do for others. Benjamin Franklin once wrote that “democracy ends the moment the majority realizes it can vote itself money out of the treasury,” certainly a timely message today when the majority is wantonly voting itself and its supporters money out of the federal treasury.  Thomas Jefferson added a similar thought: “A democracy is nothing more than mob rule, where fifty-one percent of the people may take away the rights of the other forty-nine.”

     The Korban Pesach was an individual act that had to be done – on pain of extinction – in the context of the community. Pesach celebrates our creation as a nation, and therefore the most sublime moments take place in the context of that nation/ One who chooses to distance himself from that nation effectively denies the existence of G-d. The Unity of G-d is inextricably linked to the unity of the Jewish people, and, Rav Kook wrote, the fundamental conviction we have as a people is that “He chose us from the nations and gave us His Torah” – and that this community encompasses all Jews, and even the occasional scoundrel. Being part of the Jewish people is not just a functional connection (I am part of ‘something’) – but it is rather an existential connection, part of the inherent definition of our lives.

      “And when your sons will say to you…” There will come a time – and it comes in every generation – when some of our children will say, “what is this service to you”? Sadly, it does not speak to them, and those are bad tidings – that some of our children will forget the Torah. But that knowledge is also accompanied by good tidings that each generation will have Jewish children, and each generation will have the challenge of educating those Jewish children. We worry about the future, and rightly so – but we worry too much, especially about what others are doing or trying to do to us. There is no problem in Jewish life that cannot be resolved by doing the right thing ourselves – by speaking the language of Torah, faith, community, integrity and holiness.

    Then all our children will perceive the wisdom of Torah, and the depth of our commitment – and we will reclaim the spirit of the hosts of Hashem who were redeemed from Egypt 3322 years ago this year, and prepare ourselves for the future, in which we pray, we will soon see the wonders of G-d and His redemptive hand, speedily and in our time.

Fighting in the Dark

     The miracle of Chanuka was astonishing for a number of reasons, but especially because “the few vanquished the many.” The Maccabim prevailed against overwhelming odds. Yehuda’s forces never numbered more than a few thousand, and in the climactic battle he mustered 10,000 soldiers against 60,000 Syrians – and still defeated the enemy.

      The Maccabim were greatly outnumbered, even though they operated in their home territory (where usually the insurgents have a numerical advantage) because they were a minority force even among Jews. It wasn’t just a case of the Hellenist Jews predominating, although that was also true. It was also because most Jews adopted a wait-and-see attitude, in large part because this was the first time the Jews fought while not under the protective guidance of a prophet, and Chanuka is the only festival that post-dates the Bible. In every other war – the prophets led the way: Moshe, Yehoshua, most of the Judges, David, etc. Even when the Jews were not victorious – usually because they disobeyed the prophet or due to other sins – he was at least in the background and a useful resource.

      But now, Jews were in the dark, literally. Faced with the occupation of our land by the world power, who knew what to do and which paradigm to follow? How could they decide, and what guarantee did they have that the decision was correct ? These questions plagued the Jews of that era, as indeed they trouble us today. To fight, to compromise, to surrender ? To look for allies, or to fight alone ? To seek the support of the majority who may not be imbued with a national or Torah spirit, or to go it alone – a few radicals leading a bunch of sluggards ? How do we decide ? How did they decide ? In Rav Shlomo Aviner’s phrase, what is the proper balance between faith and realism ?

    That question really frames the issue, and in a sense, defines the challenge of Chanuka. Realism dictated that the Maccabim could not defeat the mighty Syrian empire, that the few could not defeat the many – that all the advantages lay with the conqueror, the most powerful empire in the world. But realism would also dictate that the Jews would never leave Egypt, and never conquer the land of Israel, that David could not slay Goliath (it was possible, but the smart money was still on Goliath), never return to the land of Israel, and not be able to retain it today with the international community allied against Jewish nationalism.

     Often, a non-Jew gives us a clearer insight than we could derive ourselves. The famous Italian philosopher, Giambattista Vico, wrote the first philosophy of history in the early 1700’s, called the “New Science about the Common Nature of Nations.” His theory was that nations are like individuals – nations go through infancy, youth, mature, grow old, decay and disappear. All nations suffer this fate, and it is easier to track the ebb and flow of nations than of individuals, whose choices can take them out of the realm of the predictable.  But Vico acknowledged, in 1725, that one nation does not fit the pattern – the Jews. The Jews, he wrote, were an “exceptional people,” who are the beneficiaries of “extraordinary help from the true G-d.” Jewish history is moved by holy forces, not simply political ones.

      And that is the lesson of Chanuka and the motivation of the majestic men of Modiin. It is the idea, post-Biblical times, on which we thrive or stumble. It is easy to have faith when everything is spelled out in the Torah, and the word of G-d reaches us through his prophets – and we know clearly why we win when we win, and why we lose when we lose. That faith is a theoretical one. Yehuda knew what we needed was practical faith, taking that notion out of the books on the shelves of the Bet Midrash – out of the realm of the theoretical and implementing it in our world view, our conduct – as individuals and as a nation. Our realism includes faith; that is to say, it must include awareness of our exceptionalism. We may ignore that too frequently, but we ignore it at our peril.

      This was the miracle of Chanuka, and the eternal lesson of Chanuka in every generation – that we never despair, that even at the darkest moments the miracle of light is near, and we look for the mysterious cruse of oil that suddenly materializes, and heralds the immanence of G-d.

       As a military victory, the triumph of Chanuka was short-lived. But as a clarion call to faith,  to the hand of G-d that is as real to us as anything material, to be active in defense of Torah and the land of Israel – then the wars of the Chashmonaim inspire us until today – in their dedication, in their tenacity, in their faith, and in the miracles they experienced, in those days in this season.

Haggadah Shfoch Chamatcha

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Shiur Originally Given on 3/30/2009

 

Optimism

Our Sages state (Megila 31b) that Ezra ordained that Jews read the “curses” of the book of Devarim immediately before Rosh Hashana (the sedra of Ki Tavo), so that, symbolically, “the year and its curses will end,” and a new, more joyous year will commence.

Each year has its share of blessings and curses, but the bad tidings seem to linger a bit longer and transform our lives in unanticipated ways. Illness and death, job loss and economic hardship, personal upheaval and psychological dislocation can shatter the way we see ourselves and our world and leave us reeling, groping for some words of comfort or grounds for optimism. But they are there, if only we open our minds and our hearts to them.

My late cousin, Ehud Manor, one of Isael’s greatest songwriters, was commissioned in 2003 by the Zionist Congress convening in Yerushalyim to compose an “optimistic song,” following several years of persistent death and mayhem, and pervasive despondency, in Israel. He wrote one of his last songs, simply titled “An Optimistic Zionist Song” (Shir Tzioni Optimi), but its lyrics (not exclusive to Zionism) are profound, inspiring, and filled with solace and succor for anyone who has experienced difficult moments and remains troubled by the vicissitudes of life. The song breeds a sense of optimism about life – its value, its opportunities – and reinforces what is perhaps one of the essential notions about life that often takes years to learn: we usually cannot control our circumstances; we can only control how we respond to those circumstances.

Herewith follows “An Optimistic Zionist Song” (translation mine; the Hebrew, of course, rhymes, and the melody is upbeat):

Deep within the winter you will find that there is still within you summer,

deep within the sadness you will find that there is still within you joy,

deep within the night you will find that there is still within you morning,

deep within the anger you will find that there is still within you forgiveness.”

“Deep within the fear you will find that there is still within you courage,

deep within the silence you will find that there is still within you a voice,

deep within the ice you will find that there is still within you a flame,

deep within the clouds, you will again find the blue-white-blue.”

Life can contain within it a coldness that appears relentless, a gloom that seemingly will never lift, a night that never ends, and an anger that people can cling to – long after the causes of that anger have faded into the mists of time. They all stifle our initiative, rob us of our zest, and cheat us out of years on this earth. We become paralyzed by uncertainty, and think that our predicaments are frozen and the good life unachievable.

That is an error, because the means of our psychological liberation usually lie within us – if only we desire to dig deep, to access it, to bring to the fore new, heretofore buried but healthier emotions. That is the choice we are given – in the Torah’s words, “and you will choose life, so that you and your descendants may live” (Devarim 30:19). The person who is embittered by life stops living, and pejoratively colors the way his/her children will view the world, as well. Certainly, not every problem in life can be solved with the right attitude, but every problem can be ameliorated with the right attitude.

“And if you are not an optimist, it is a sign that you are no longer young,

and if you are not an optimist, it is a sign that you must again wake up,

to the chirping of birds, to the gentle winds from the sea, and

to the  fragrance of the citrus in bloom.”

“And if you are not an optimist, it is a sign that you are no longer young,

and if you are not an optimist, it is a sign that you must again wake up,

to the laughter of children, to the sun that still rises, and

to the song of several friends.”

The young have a boundless sense of optimism. They see a world of limitless potential, as the tableau on which they will implement their dreams. As we age, we realize we will not fulfill half of our quests in life (probably, for the better). But the sense of hopefulness must remain – as we appreciate the carefree chatter of children and grandchildren, the beauty of the world around us, the deep and abiding relationships we have with family and friends that enrich our lives, and the opportunity to serve Hashem at every stage in life. On Rosh Hashana, we are again all children, davening with our parents and grandparents even if they are not physically present, and standing before our Father in Heaven: “Have compassion on us, as a father has compassion on children.”

“Deep within the silence you will find that there is still within you a voice,

deep within the clouds, you will again find the blue-white-blue.”

We can thus dispatch “the year and its curses,” and usher in “the new year and its blessings” – that our lives will be filled with good health and bounty spent wisely, that our voices will resonate with Torah and tefila, that the people of Israel will be blessed with tranquility, that we will all find solace and hopefulness in the pleasure of friends and our community, and that we will be worthy this year of beholding the redemption of Israel and all mankind.