​Dear friends,

ELUL IS A UNIQUE OPPORTUNITY IN TIME

Time is tricky. You can get an accurate answer when you ask someone, “What time is it,” but when you change the order of the words and ask, “What is time,” finding an answer is far more complex. The physical definition of time is “an ordered and measurable progression of change”. The world is in constant motion – rotations and revolutions and they all change the way the globe is in relationship with the sun, which makes day and night and the seasons predictable. You knew all of this, and you may be reasonably curious about why I am taking you back to your fourth-grade trip to the planetarium. Ramchal explains how day and night, and the various times of year often have spiritual and halachic avenues through which you can be in touch with the energy that Hashem gave them.

YOU HAVE THE MEANS TO “HEAR” ITS MESSAGE

Bnei Yissaschar (quoting early Kabbalistic sources) talks about which specific organ is the one that is in tune with the spiritual message and energy of each month.

Elul is the month of the ear.

You can “hear” Hashem, and when you do, your relationship to Him is far more honest than if you tune out or “adjust” the message to fit your assumptions.

YOU MAY BE ASHAMED TO ADMIT THAT YOU CAN’T HEAR

Picture this. You’re at a wedding. The decibel level is over 20. Your good friend, the kallah’s sister, whom you haven’t seen since your seminary days comes over to where you are standing (near the Viennese table – where else. If you are in Israel, you are standing near the table that has fried chicken wings, overcooked stuffed peppers, and kugel. We forgive you, O Israel, and accept you as you are.). The band moves into a heavy-duty dance rhythm. She talks. You have no idea of what she is saying, so you nod. Smile, Nod some more. Several days later you meet her randomly at Target. “What happened? We all expected you!” If you couldn’t make it, you should have just said something!” You piece the puzzle together.

You were embarrassed to tell her that you couldn’t hear her because all you could hear was the background music. We tend to do this very frequently with far more severe results.

WHEN YOU CAN’T QUITE HEAR

Last week’s parshah (Ki Teitzei) narrates the story of the ben-sorer u’moreh... the rebellious son, who eats a great deal of semi-cooked meat, gets drunk after a huge amount of wine, steals, and more. The introductory verse tells you the underlying story. “…he didn’t listen to the voice of his father… or mother.” No children always obey their parents. Not even hearing them is another thing entirely. He was deaf to anything that didn’t bring immediate gratification, and hostile to anyone who “stopped the music”.  

The Ohr HaChaim says that there are two guards that stand in front of the gates to your heart. Their job is to keep the mind’s words from reaching your emotions. They make it impossible for your heart to hear – it deafens your emotions. You want to hear the song of fantasy that tells you that if you have what you want at the moment, your life will be a dream. You have to block out the voice of awareness, of your inner ability to see truth, the part of you that hears your neshama speak out Hashem’s messages. How did the guards get there?

Fear is a powerful motivator. The more you identify with your spiritual self, the self that, like Hashem, is a giver, the less afraid you are to lose something material. Maharal points out that all chessed is a loser’s game. You either lose time, money, or emotional energy. It also is a winner’s game. You get eternity, bonding, and love, and most of all the ability to have an experiential bond we your Creator. If you are a materialist, you want to keep your ears closed.

There is another sort of fear that is far more subtle.

A true story: A Rav in Bnei Brak, Rav Toib (his real name) was asked an interesting question.

“This shei’lah is about an event that happened when I was in the fifth grade.” Seeing as the man standing in front of him looked about 50, this was somewhat surprising. “I was in HaMesorah, a really great Talmud Torah, but I had to leave because of what happened. A boy came to school with an envelope full of cash. His mother sent him on an afterschool errand to pay the electric company... He showed the money off to his friends, and it soon was the hottest topic in the cheder. He put it in his coat pocket at recess and headed to the yard. When he came back the money was gone. The Rebbe locked the door, and had us all face the wall, so we couldn’t see who would be caught. He felt everyone’s pockets, but the money wasn’t there. He had no choice. He had us put our backpacks and lunch bags on the table. The money was found in my backpack, even though I didn’t take it! The Rebbe was brilliant. He told the boys that someone put it there to protect himself, just like Yosef had his servants hide his goblet in Binyamin’s pack. The Binyamin strategy didn’t work. It didn’t work. From then on, I was Dovid-the-ganov. It stuck like glue. I left school at the end of the year, but I never got over the months of humiliation. Now, 40 years later, I got a call. The man on the phone told me that he was calling to ask me for forgiveness. I asked him why he was making this call, and he told me that he was the boy who stole the money and put it in my bookbag. I told him, “40 Yom Kippurs have come and gone. What made you wake up now?” “I’ll tell you the truth,” he said. “I am working for a firm, and I have been accused of embezzling money. I didn’t do it, but I know that if I can’t prove my innocence my career is over. I’m not doing that well financially anyway. This would destroy me.” I told him that I would think about it, Rabbi Toib, and this is what brings me to you. I’m not sure he’s sincerely sorry for what he did to me. He just is afraid.”  Rabbi Toib thought about it a said, “Ask him for 5,000 shekels in return for forgiveness. See what he does.” After making the suggestion, Rabbi Toib wasn’t sure that he had done the right thing. He told his questioner to give him another day to consider the entire matter. He then approached one of Rav Chaim’s grandsons, and asked him to bring the question and the idea of payment to his grandfather. 

Here is Rav Chaim’s reply:
“He could ask for the money and forgive him, but he could also not make any demands, and even if the other man’s sincerity is not definite, he will end up like Rav Yose in the Talmud.

Who was Rav Yose?

He was the one who said that his wish is to have his place in Gan Eden be amongst those who suffered humiliation and accepted it without answering back.

May we all be worthy of being like Rav Yose, and hear what is real, deep, and meaningful. Let Elul be the month of mercy and forgiveness. Let us be ready to really hear the sound of the shofar.
 
Love, and ketiva and chatima tovah,
Tziporah  

Dear friends,

When words don’t work, stories sometimes do.

You can see yourself in the characters, and in a certain sense, sometimes they become part of you. I recently heard a story that I hope will become part of me.

There is a yeshiva in Bnei Brak for boys in their teens. The Rosh Yeshivah, Rav Shayish (his real name) closed his Gemarah to end the class, when a boy stopped him before he could enter his study. “I have to talk to you”, Motti (not his real name) said. The Rav opened the door to let him in. “My mother just called. The doctors told her that my father’s diagnosis is terrible. They don’t see him living much longer. Rebbe! I’m 15. There are 10 kids in the family all younger than me.” At that point he had no more words, only sobs.

The Rosh Yeshivah said, “We have to do what we can. It’s Thursday night. Let’s get 10 of you and take a van down to the Kotel. When we get there we’ll say the entire book of Tehillim and the 13 attributes of Divine mercy. That’s what we can do. It’s pikuah nefesh, we have to do everything possible. The boy got his friends together and at 11 when the van arrived, somehow there were only nine boys. One wasn’t there. No one knew what to say when suddenly a boy from another class appeared. Avner (not his real name) had a backpack on, but when they asked him to join, he said no. “I have to get home. I live in Ofakim, and if I don’t leave right now, I’ll miss the last bus”. The Rosh Yeshiva looked at him, and said, “it’s pikuach nefesh. Go to Ofakim on the early bus tomorrow”. The boy looked him in the eye, and said, “You don’t understand. My father lost his job two years ago and hasn’t found work. What my mother brings in isn’t enough. My little brother knows the score. His Bar Mitzvah is next week. There’s no way we could do it in a hall the way everyone does. My mother told him that instead, we’ll have the best Shabbos ever. We’ll invite the whole family for the entire Shabbos. She gave me a job. When the stores close late on Thursday night they leave out whatever they think is looking a bit old and won’t be sold on Friday for whoever wants to take it. I have to be there. She’s counting on me."

There was nothing to say.

The Rosh Yeshivah told him to make the choice he felt was right. Avner walked away. The other boy is considered their choices – they would have to beg boys who barely know Motti to come. Before they had a chance to head back to the dorm, they saw Avner coming towards them. “I’m in. I’ll go from the Kotel to Highway 1 and stand until I get a hitch. I’ll be in Ofakim before dawn. The stuff will still be there.” The three hours of Tehillim and middos HaRachamim passed. Rav Shayish faced the next “issue”. It’s Thursday night and the boys were hungry. Offering teenage boys cake doesn’t cut it. He called one of Meah Shearim’s caterers Rav Cheshin, (real name) who stays open late, and got him to open up for the “starving” bachurim. The entire Cheshin family (some of whom I know personally) are known for their chessed, dedication to Hashem’s torah, and utter lack of materialism. “You think this is chessed?” Rav Cheshin said with his trademark smile. “I’ll show you a chessed that I never believed would come my way”. He opened the back room, and showed them the large containers full of food. “I man ordered 160 portions for a sheva brachos on Shabbos. I called on Friday to ask where to deliver the food. “We cancelled two days ago,” said the man on the phone. “No one cancelled,” I told him. Then I heard the “I told you to call” fight begin. He thought she was supposed to call, and she thought that he was. The blame, and the humiliation, were tangible. I offered them a compromise. I’ll take the loss if they make peace between them and stop talking about it…. Within a few moments, Avner had nothing to worry about. The food had found an address There was enough for the Shabbos, for Melaveh Malka, and for a snack before Shabbos for everyone. Before anyone could say another word Rav Cheshin said he won’t allow anyone else pay the van needed to deliver the food.

Rav Shayish told the story that Shabbos when he spoke to a large pre-Elul group. One man challenged him. “No one is so poor that they don’t make a Bar Mitzvah”. It was only after Rav Shayish opened his eyes to the Other Israel that he believed him. “It’s not going to happen,” he told the Rosh Yeshivah. Get the boy from Ofakim here as soon as he comes back. I’m going to pay the whole thing. Hall. Catering. Band. Photographer. It’s all on me.

You may be wondering why I am telling you this rather long story?

Many of you may have heard the famous parable of the Baal HaTanya in which he describes Elul as being a time when “The King is in the field”. Normally reaching a monarch is mission impossible for an ordinary person. Once a year the King comes to you where you “work”– your field, willingly and lovingly. Hashem wants to meet us as we are, in the field, dirty from our bad choices and sweaty from our bad deeds – in Elul He accepts us.
 
You may have also heard another description of Elul.  The pasuk from Shir HaShirim “Ani LiDodi, ViDodi Li”, the first letter of each word spells out the word Elul when placed together. “I am for my Beloved, and my Beloved is for me” is what the message of Elul is.
Step back. Notice that before “My beloved is for me”, I have to be in a place where I can honestly say, “I am for my Beloved”. The King will come to the field when you are ready to receive Him. This is one reason that shofar is blown every day in the synagogue in Elul. It is to inspire you to think and ask. Am I really there? Honestly?
 
You are
You really are
 
Now look back at the story and find yourself. Find the piece of you that cares enough to see someone else’s agony as their own, like Rav Shayish. Be like Motti who didn’t give in to despair. Find yourself in Avner who was literally ready to walk the extra mile. Maybe there’s even a bit of Rach Cheshin hiding inside somewhere.
​
Most of all, use this time to review the good and holy choices you have made this year and rediscover who you can be.
 
Love, and every brachah for a ketivah vechatimah tovah,
Tziporah    ​

Dear friends,

The nine days are coming to a close. We are so hardened and so amnesiac that the mourning can become empty. It is a great blessing that there are so many possibilities online and in most religious areas that enable us to look at the day of Tisha b’Av with a far more intense and committed perspective than used to be possible.

When I was a child and went to Camp Emunah, following hearing Eichah, the campers would sit in a circle outside on the grass for the Kinos, read in turn by each of us. We had absolutely no idea of what we were saying, but the vast difference between this and an ordinary camp day was enough to get us at least wondering.

Nowadays, the focus isn’t so much on recalling the Temple as it is on recalling the destruction. One of the most convincing proofs of the uniqueness of the Jewish People is that we still exist. There is no universal language or culture holding us together, and even the partial return to Eretz Yisrael is not the glue that creates a unified identity. If any of you are aware of the current political divide here, you will also realize that it isn’t the kind of divide that really is just political. It is a battle for national identity between those who think Tel Aviv when they say Israel, and those who think Yerushalayim when they say Eretz Yisrael.

Maharal tells us that when Hashem decided to create Adam, He made the first human using three components: that which is completely spiritual, that which is part of the cosmos, and finally that which is physical. Each of us is a mini-universe, so all three are what make us human. At the time His decision was made, He convened His attributes and consulted them about making a human being. Chesed (which stems from the highest plane) said that we love doing chesed. By definition, chesed means giving freely. Your sense of self is a free gift, the aspect of Hashem that makes you human. It is the part of you that you use to engage with others and with the world. Peace pointed out that humans fight with each other constantly, and truth said we lie continually. What Hashem decided to do (obviously to create us anyway) is to give us a bit of truth, the Torah, which determines what you do with your stay here on earth, and can give you the rules of the game that give your life direction.

Galus has done a job on us. Most of us are so ignorant of Torah that the only thing that still holds us together is the Jewish soul, a gift from the highest sphere. We all have this in common and rediscovering this commonality may be the key to finally getting out of Galus.

When we left Egypt we had three leaders. Aharon made peace by showing each person their capacity to move beyond hatred and envy, so that even two people who were enemies could find common ground. Moshe was the soul of Israel, and gave us the truth of Torah. Miriam was the deep well from which our need to quench our thirst with closeness to Hashem comes.

You need to be an Aharon, and surround the people you encounter with the cloud of inner G‑dliness that they have under their skins. You need to be a Moshe who lives Torah and touches the part of the rest of us that knows truth when we see it. Most of all, you need to be Miriam and really want more than you already have.

On to what that has to do with your life.

At least let yourself feel vulnerable – fast, realize that something is different, and that the word “normal” doesn’t work just yet.

Love,
Tziporah 

Dear friends,

When I learned world history in elementary school, Napoleon was presented as quite a heroic figure. Determined. Brilliant strategist. Visionary. These were the words used to describe a man whose name has come to mean something far more positive – it is one of my favorite desserts. 

The reason that I was thinking about the Little Man with ambition is that the current war in Ukraine recalls so many wars fought for no definable reason.  Of course, there is always the raw gaavah that demands to further glorify yourself via the country that is on your side, but whether your side wins or loses many lives will be lost, and the people of the embattled country are not usually affected very much down the road. Will the lives of the Russians or Ukrainians be different 20 years from now?

There are exceptions, and they are at least as important and as real as the anti-war message that I just conveyed.

The problem with the above statement is that it isn’t always true. If the Allies had lost WW2, if Civil War had a different end (not that it is comparable to the unspeakable horrors of the holocaust) things would have worked out differently.

The war against the Midianites still affects you today.

I can hear the “huh?” all the way in Har Nof, followed by some of you asking, “What war?”

The war I am talking about was fought in the last stages of the Jew’s stay in the desert. It was a strike ordered by Hashem. The enemy was the Midianites who had reached the point of surrender to the animalistic urge to WIN. To reach the goal they prostituted their daughters to entice Jewish men for one reason and one reason only. They wanted to destroy us as a nation from the inside. Their “enemy” was any whisper of kedushah that could drown out the Midianite hedonism that was their only principle. Yes, you got it right. The only principle was “don’t have any principles”. This is why they hired Bilaam – The war was not about territory or fear of conquest.  Midian was not part of territorial Eretz Yisrael and there was no reason for them to fear the Jews. Except for one. If and when they leave the desert and begin living normal lives, planting, building, and creating a society based on serving G-d, Midian’s core beliefs would be threatened, and their need for supremacy defeated and rendered irrelevant.
The result of the wars was shocking. The Jewish officers reported no men dead or missing. The cause? It was a war that G-d commanded, and He required that each tribe send 1000 men... They put the Midianites face-to-face with the representatives of the people who are everything that they are not. The victory was absolute – and this is why it has something to do with you.

After the war was fought, we were given the laws of how to make non-kosher dishes and utensils kosher. What that tells you is that the eating implements we use are defined by their exposure to non-kosher food, but can be “returned” through koshering them. There is more – even if a particular utensil was made by a non-Jew, it needs to be immersed. What can possibly be spiritually compromising about a coffee cup? What are these laws telling you?

The basic premise is that we Jews live in the real world, which is a world in which physical reality is on the page. Higher consciousness is part of what and how you eat, sleep, dress, and more. When you recognize that nothing can exist without Hashem willing it into existence (even for a split second) you will come to realize that nothing (even the snack you may be eating or envisioning as you read this letter) is only physical. Yes, it occupies space, exists in time but there is more to it than what you see. It is connected to the Source of life. The connection isn’t less real because it is invisible. If anything, its invisibility tells you that it is limited by time/space. When you use the material world as a stepping stone to connect yourself to the Source of life via the physical object at hand two things happen. One is that you are more aware. The other is that the object has fulfilled the purpose for which it was created.

Going back to Midian. To them, the entire purpose of food for them was nourishment and pleasure. No connection. No gratitude. No recognition of what the spiritual effect could be. Worse still, their relationship to food could be reflective of their entire way of life.

The way to make a utensil kosher follows the way it became non-kosher. If the medium used in cooking was water, it has to be koshered by being dipped in boiling water. If it was via dry heat, it is koshered by dry heat. There is a message there.

You follow the parshah, and you come to the laws of the cities of refuge. These are cities that are open as places where a person who committed a murder through negligence is obligated to go. After his trial (and his being found guilty of murder through negligence), he is sentenced to the cities of refuge where he must reside until the death of the Kohen Gadol of his time. He would be surrounded by Levites (since the cities were designated from the Levitate cities) where they would be in an exalted environment to heal the kind of spiritual insensitivity that would lead to being the kind of person who can find himself in the unenviable position of knowing that the difference between life and death can be just giving the other person’s life the value it deserves. You too can be made “kosher”. Put yourself in a good environment, re-sensitize yourself, and give yourself the message that new beginnings are possible if you want them to happen.

The Parshah, (and Chumash bamidbar) ends with a listing of 42 stops the Jews made while travelling to Eretz Yisrael in the desert. The trek took 40 years. The number 42 isn’t random. There are 42 words in the first chapter of the Shema – the one that begins with “And you shall love Hashem”. This parallels the fact that your life and mine are composed of many journeys   that all have meaning, and all can lead to love of Hashem, even when you have to “kosher” yourself after a jaunt in spiritual Midian... When you see some progress, you can always incentivize yourself with a Napolean, conquered by your yetzer tov, upon which you say a brachah with all your heart!

Love,
Tziporah