Dear friends,

“When I was in prison, the officers and the guard would routinely goad me and try to humiliate me by asking me, ‘Did I think I would ever come home, here [in Israel]; would I ever be with my wife Esther,'” Pollard said. “And I always answered them the same way: I would ask them, ‘Do you believe in G-d?’ and most of them would say yes. And then I would ask, ‘Do you believe that G-d can perform miracles?’ and they would say, ‘Sure, of course.’ Well, here we are.”

These words were spoken by Jonathan Pollard. 

They weren’t just words spoken in gratitude to Hashem for bringing him home to Eretz Yisrael. These words were spoken when he donated a Sefer torah to the kever of Yosef HaTzadik. There in Shchem, he closed a circle. Like Yosef, his story of heroism in prison will always inspire us, and his faith will always be one of the greatest gifts anyone can give to Am Yisrael.

In this week’s parshah the laws of lashon hara are narrated. Intuitively most people don’t see lashon hara as all that severe. Most of the time the victim doesn’t even find out what has been said about him. Since the halachah defines lashon hara as being true information that is either negative or harmful, many people will assume that as long as what they say is true, there is nothing wrong in saying it. In fact repressing negative feelings or information is often perceived as repression rather than of piety.   

The truth is far more complex. Having a cynical, bitter view of life is not rare according to the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention (CDC) WISQARS Leading Causes of Death Reports, in 2018:

o   Suicide was the tenth leading cause of death overall in the United States, claiming the lives of over 48,000 people.
o   Suicide was the second leading cause of death among individuals between the ages of 10 and 34, and the fourth leading cause of death among individuals between the ages of 35 and 54.
o   There were more than two and a half times as many suicides (48,344) in the United States as there were homicides (18,830). The rate of suicide in the United States is growing. It has increased 35% since 1999.

The way you see life is influenced by many factors. Arguably the most influential factor is your self-talk. If you see your life as worthless, if you see rejection as inevitable, if you feel that your achievements have no meaning, it is hard to maintain a positive attitude towards life. A great deal of self-talk is determined by the social environment you live in. If you hear denigration of others, you have every reason to anticipate rejection. If you hear that the world is meaningless, that people are uncaring, that there are never pots of gold at the end of the rainbow, you have every reason to anticipate living a life that just doesn’t get better.
Lashon hara is a killer.

The Talmud tells you that it kills three people; the speaker, the listener, and the victim. Of the three, the one who is scarred most severely is often the listener. The victim often never even finds out what was said behind his back. The speaker knows that what he says is touched by his own agenda. The listener thinks that what he heard is the way “it” is. Unlike physical harm, which is confined to the area that is attacked, lashon hara can move from one end of the world to the other, especially via today’s media. 
The opposite takes place when you hear words that tell you that every moment of life is real, full of purpose, and that connection to Hashem can happen to you or to anyone else moment by moment. If you hear stories of heroism, you learn that social acceptance, success, or rejection isn’t the only way that the value of your life is determined. You learn that no matter where you are, with whom you find yourself, whether or not you have talents that are known and expressed and appreciated, you can still reach out to the place where hope, aspiration, and heroism live.

Jonathan Pollard and his wife, Ester, have done us all a great service by being who they are. 
If for whatever reason, you have self-talk that colors the world black, envision the way their faces looked at Kever Yosef, and choose a new color.

Shechem is a place where many tragedies have occurred. In fact, when Avraham entered the Land, he built an alter there because he could foresee the future events that would take place there. He saw Yosef’s brothers selling him to itinerant merchants, Dina his daughter being abducted, and the division of the Jewish kingdom into two segments (interestingly and tragically, when entering the mishkan you would enter through the east. North and south (which is the way the kingdom was divided) the south being loyal to Shlomo’s son Rechavam, and the North rebelling under the leadership of Yeravam ben Nevat, parallel right and left in the mishkan. Yes, the first division of Israel took place by the right and the left separating leading to irreparable tragedy. When you look at today’s Israel, heading to a possible 5th election, the bitterness and divisiveness between the right and left seem to be a replay of our early history.). You would think that Shechem was a place to be avoided. The Sfas Emmes points out an entirely different perspective that you can choose. The word Shchem is an acronym for “Shaim Kavod Malchuso” which means that this is the place of Hashem’s kingdom. This tells you that here, in the place of tragedy is where you choose to let Hashem rule.  Or not.

Jonathan Pollard chose to bring hope into darkness. Let his word touch your heart and change your self-talk
Forever. Indelibly. 
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All the best,
Tziporah  

Dear friends,

First of all, how are you all? I really like to hear from you, and haven’t heard much lately (which is usually either a very good sign-life is going smoothly, or a not so good sign-you feel like there is nothing new to write, which is actually the same thing as the good sign, life is going smoothly in a basic sense, but you may feel that it is colored by a sort of grey film that sometimes makes life feel ordinary, a feeling that makes it impossible to feel really enthusiastic and animated about being here. You can find yourself not knowing what to write not just out of normal indolence, but because life seems to be an exercise in passive resistance to minor (and sometimes major) Issues (note the caps. If you don’t live in a cave, you will know that in this century, Issues are what life is about ).

It isn’t.

In Orchot Tzadikim there is a list of 30 items that he recommends putting on your hard disk so to speak. The very first is that existence itself is a gift. Is this how you see it?
Avraham no doubt saw it that way. The question that was almost his heartbeat was, “Who is the master of the palace”? He understood the art, and spent his life making connection with the Artist, which means that he found meaning and discovery as he did what you do-eat, drink, etc. The physical world, its order and precision live right alongside its never-ending list of surprises. It’s an astounding place to be. The joy of minute to minute discovery in existence is often clouded over by the feelings of disappointment, loss, and failure that are also part of life’s drama.

It’s hard to stay engaged with the wonder of life; it’s easier to worry about what to do if you discover that the elevator isn’t’ working, or that your appointment was cancelled, or that the scale never lies.
One of the things that you can do to stay awake to what life really is, is to bring people into the picture. It’s true that we ae all mixed bags (as it says, there is not tzadik in the land who does good but no evil), but every so often things happen that make you feel the wonder of being a choosing, thinking, and most of all sensitive person. Look at the people who got past the Greys. 

I heard the following story just recently.

It was after the war. Like many other people, Efraim Greenfeld and Yechiel Weinberger had no one left. The two young men, barely out of their teens found comfort in their friendship. When the authorities who ran the DP (displaced persons) camp that they called home after they were released from Auschwitz made an announcement. They told them that it was now possible to fill out forms requesting I and migration to Canada, and that there was a good chance at being accepted. They wasted no time. When the responses came in, they found out that only one of them was given a positive reply. Efraim Greenfeld was presented with travel documents, a visa and instructions as to how to find the Jewish organization that sponsored him. Yechiel was turned down. He had typhus, and the government of Canada had no interest in taking in a person who would inevitably just be a drain on their economy. He was distraught. He saw time and life as an endless expanse, peopled by Others, people who had friends, family, and a future. When the day came to escort Efraim to the dock, he couldn’t hold back the stream of words and tears that had become one in a pain laden attempt at saying goodbye. “We will never see each other again”, he said again and again, “I have no one” There was nothing Efraim could say. It was very possibly true; Yechiel’s name was on the Bad List. He was marked off as an unwanted remnant of a war no one wanted to think about too deeply. Instead of speaking, he went to his vest pocket, and quietly handed Yechiel h is travel documents, tickets, and address book. “From now on, your name is Efraim Greenfeld. No one will ever know the difference”

It worked.

Years later, Efriam Greenfeld, who was known by everyone he had met since that fateful afternoon as Yechiel Weinberger, began to ask himself some questions. He decided to address the questions to the Rebbe of Vizhnitz in Monsey. He told him the story and asked, “should I change my name back to Efraim Greenfeld. Efraim is the name I was given at my bris. Greenfeld is the name my family carried. It will take some effort, (I imagine that he meant with all of the formal and legal issues involved in changing your name), but if it’s right, that’s what I’ll do”.

The Rebbe’s answer was succinct, and passionate. “Don’t change it. Whenever anyone calls you by the name you used to save a life, Hashem hears it as defense of the Jewish people. You have no idea of what you may be achieving”.

You may be wondering what this story has to do with you. 

You have made all sorts of choices. Some are dramatic and some aren’t. The yetzer ha ra will devalue the choices that you made. He won’t let you see that your existence here on the planet called earth may be so significant that it would justify not only your existence, but the existence of all of may those you touch. The yetzer hara will demand drama. He will also demoralize you by making you “forget” the moments of meaning.

This week’s parshah or more correctly, one of this week’s parshiot (there are two), is kedoshim. It begins by Hashem telling us that we can be holy. It also tells you why you can be holy. The text tells you that the reason is, Because He is. 

You are in His image. 

The parshah continues with one perek (16) listing many of the interpersonal mitzvot. One of the observations that you may find meaningful is one that Maharal made in Netivot Olam, his chapter on loving your neighbor. The most available way to “learn” Hashem is by seeing His image through the prism of loving your friends, seeing their greatness
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And perhaps seeing your own while you’re at it.
 
Love,
Tziporah

 
Dear friends,

Let’s go back a couple of weeks to the week before Pesach. Mike enters his boss’s office with the usual trepidation that he feels whenever he opens the cage to feed the lion. Mr. Levine looks at Mike, and says, “Yes?”. Mike looks at his nails, and finally says, “It’s two days before Pesach. I need to take off some time to help my wife”.  Mr. Levine’s reply was immediate. “There’s no way that you can take off time now”. Mike’s entire demeanor changed. His face opened up into a sunny smile, “Thanks Mr. Levine. You’re a real friend. I knew I could count on you”.

Mitzvot can feel like work, and you can find yourself itching for a vacation. You are not alone. One of the major poskim (specialists in halachic law) would sometimes answer his phone with the word, “permitted”. If you asked what he means, he would say, “look. That’s what you want to hear, so why beat around the bush” (okay, his terminology was more formal, but the idea came through).
The kosher laws are especially hard. They prevent you from eating out with nonobservant or non-Jewish people. They require that you learn the symbols that tell you that the food item you are looking at makes the grade in kashrus. You have to learn how to examine some greens and grains for bugs instead of going into denial and eating them along with your lunch (I guess you would be fleishig forever). The Torah spells out the restrictions in this week’s parshah, Shemini.

The word Shemini means “the eighth”. The reference is to the final day of inaugurating the sanctuary in the desert, and feeling and seeing the miracle of Hashem’s presence descending. The number eight is often used as a symbol of transcending nature. The world was made in 6 days, the number 7 tells you that the world has an inner, spiritual dimension, but the number 8 takes you a step further.

The laws concerning the mishkan and the laws of kashrus have something in common. They are hard.
The Jews worked hard at building the mishkan-they gave their gold silver and much more to Moshe and from him, to the artisans who made it. They needed extraordinary skill and inspired insight to follow the design that Hashem revealed. Each thread, each piece of metal, each beam of wood, had an address. What was the extreme attention to detail. 

The word for forbidden is “assur”, which literally means “tied down”. Hashem structured the world by creating animals, situations, etc. that are ”assur”. They don’t reveal anything of Hashem. They are tied down to being just what they look like, purely physical. What are they for? They are there not to be uplifted, but to give you the opportunity to uplift yourself, by learning to say no to your base instincts.  

Meyer Birnbaum was a soldier in the American army during World War 2. The mood in America in those years was very different than it is today. Multiculturism had not yet emerged. The goal that almost any young person had was to enter the melting pot and become a “real American”. His mother taught him that whatever else he is, he is always a Jew. This meant that kosher is kosher in the army, just as it is in mom’s kitchen. He managed on raw fruits and vegetables, occasional meals given to him by Jewish families and faith in Hashem. One of his favorite treats was hard boiled eggs, cooked in his battle helmet. Those eggs were not only not “assur”, they were “muttar” which means “released”. They weren’t just food for his body, they were food for his soul. 

The beginning of the parshah is about the holiest moment that we had ever experienced, the moment when the Shechinah descended. The end of the parshah is about the kosher laws. These are not two separate ideas. They are two ends of a bridge. One end, is the material world in which you live, and the other end is Hashem’s infinity flowing down to earth. As Jews we know that both ends are connected.
These ideas are not new to some of you. The underlying problem for you may not be intellectual, but in bringing these ideas home to your heart. You are not alone. There is no road as long as the one from the head to the heart. 

The first one to walk the bridge was Avraham. Even as a child he looked at the world and realized that the things that the saw didn’t make themselves.  He had questions and sensitivities, but no answers. His parents took him the circular route. They worshipped idols that represented various natural forces, and encouraged him to do the same. At some point he realized that all of the forces of nature are creations, and that there is a Creator who made the natural forces just as He made the animals and plants that seem to be their “offspring’s”. As he grew older, he debated the people of Ur Kasdim, and was perceived as a threat by their king, Nimrod. He was sentenced to death by fire if he refused to recant his belief in Hashem, and survived the ordeal. None of this is new to you. The next question that I will ask, may be new.

What was it like to be Nimrod the next day? If the trial by fire was on Monday, for instance, and he saw the miracle with his own eyes, there was no way for him to escape into denial. What was he thinking when he got out of bed on Tuesday? 

I have no way of knowing the answer. I can just tell you what he wasn’t thinking. He didn’t consider the implications of knowing that there is a creator who not only brought the world into existence, but who is aware of human choices, and is capable of breaking his own natural law to intervene for the sake of Avraham. He stayed on one side of the bridge. Crossing the bridge takes effort, but each step you take moves you from assur to muttar and finally to being able to find Hashem wherever you look.
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Love,
Tziporah