Dear Friends,

I have two startling and opposite pieces of news to report. I heard them almost simultaneously. The first one is that Gittle Ferrera who some of you may recall passed away. She was in Neve 1983-84. She was one of the handful of over thirties who came to Israel to try to move forward in Yiddishkeit without letting any of the usual obstacles get in the way. She lived in Bayit Vegan, and fit very well into the civilized atmosphere of that community.

Almost immediately after hearing about this sad news, I received a call from Raphaella Carnevalle of South America telling me about her engagement. She was here this past year and just recently enrolled in a Spanish-speaking program. If you don't recall her name, but were here last year, just think in terms of Latin joi de vire and energy.

Life is so multi-colored! It isn't only life that is so variegated, its' the people who course through your time here that can open your heart to seeing how amazingly unique each one is.

People are remarkably varied. Not only are each of us completely different than anyone else, even within your own personality there are so many different "people", each one presenting reality through its own perspective. It's sometimes hard to figure out which of the competing "selves" who occupy your body at any given time is the real you. It requires a certain amount of skill (and  experience helps) to decide which part of you, you want to prevail.   

A few days before Tisha B'Av the annual evening for Shmirat haLashon (promoting positive speech or more literally guarding against negative speech) was held in Binyanei HaUmah, Yerushalaim's largest convention center. Three thousand women were there. Each of them wanted to learn how to communicate in a way that leaves a positive imprint.  No one has to teach you how to communicate negatively.  Lashon hara (speaking in a negative or harmful way with no redeeming purpose) is an easy way to feel superior, and, at the very least it gets you an audience!. There were several world-class speakers, each of whom approached communication from a different angle. The moderator told us that Rabbi Gavriel Sassoon had asked to be able to address the gathering for ten minutes. Some of you may remember him as the father and husband of the family of seven children that was killed by a fire in Flatbush. Only one daughter and his wife survived (Tziporah bat Francis and Gila bat Tziporah). As I listened to the speaker before him talk about positive communication within the family, I watched Rabbi Sassoon's face. I can't imagine what armor he had to put on to prevent himself from letting the word "family" take him to a place of embittered anguish.  His face was grave, attentive, and his expression told me that he was there and not escaping from what was said. I silently wanted the Rabbi who was speaking to change the subject, to move on. The audience was listening with rapt attention. His words were relevant, engaging, and could potentially change their lives. The subject needed to be addressed; this is what three thousand women needed to hear. When it was Rabbi Sassoon's time to speak, his tone was gentle, and his words were unforgettable. He told us about his daughter.

When she was thirteen and finished eighth grade she was immediately accepted into the high school of her choice. She had everything going for her; good middos (character traits), good grades, good family. One of her best friends didn't. I don't know whether the issue was her grades, or something more personal, but the bottom line is that she was thirteen and the school year began without her. Rabbi Sassoon's daughter pleaded with him to intervene by speaking to the principle. Although he didn't say so, as a parent I can imagine how awkward it would be to call up concerning a girl who he probably hardly knew. He called anyway, but not surprisingly, the call did not change anything. The girl herself made an appointment to speak to the principle which in and of itself is remarkably courageous for a girl who was just accepted to a school which clearly is not in need of accepting every student. The principal did not change her position. On the way out of the office, she notice a large plaque on the wall. The manes of the serious donors were engraved on its pseudo-gold background. She took out her notebook and wrote down each name. When she arrived home, she had a mission. She was going to find out the phone numbers as many donors as she can, and call them cold. She made call after call, introducing herself and telling the donor about her friend who just wants to go to school. She accomplished her goal. Her friend was accepted. Her father did not have much more to say, and not much more needed to be said. His story was one in which the decision to be kind and compassionate makes speaking lashon hara virtually impossible.

All of us are different, but we can choose to be kind no matter how different someone is from what you would like them to be. Those who aren't bright, or with it, or connected, are as unique and precious as those who are. One of the reasons that I wanted to tell you this story, is that you are not always as kind and compassionate to yourselves as you can be. You do not always make the calls to the rabbis and mentors who can nurture you spiritually. You would probably do it for someone else. It's important for you to see your own uniqueness and to believe in your purpose in being here. Don't put yourself down! The same way Gittle and Raphaella were different in almost every way, but each of them is perfect in a way that is specific and real, so are you. The same way finding a school for an anonymous thirteen year old (by the way, her mother told Rabbi Sassoon the story. His daughter didn't tell him about what she did) touches your heart, finding a mentor for yourself is equally important.

It's bein hazmanim now (literally between terms,) so I probably will be heading north to Tzfat and Meiron. If you want to send me names to pray for please let me know ASAP.

As ever,

Tziporah 

Dear Friends,

It's been a long exile. There's been enough suffering to fill countless books, but the exile itself is the result of something more tragic, the destruction of the dream that Hashem wants us to live up to. Tisha B'Av commemorates the destruction of both Temples. Why is this relevant when we have so much more to mourn in the thousands of years that have passed? I want to take your time in writing a letter just about the Bais HaMikdash, so that you can know what it is that led to the exile, and why its destruction is still relevant. I am even more long winded than usual, so be patient. 

If you were to ask any of the thousands of multi-cultured inhabitants if their lives were touched by Avraham's life, they would have to say yes. Belief in one G-d, and commitment to live a G-dly life all started with him. He changed the course of the world's history. I am going to recap his story for those who are less familiar with his life. The rest of you can space out. As a child, he was hidden in a cave. The ruler of the time, Nimrod (who may or may not have been Hammurabi) had dreamed that a child born on the day that Avraham entered the world would usurp his power, and sentenced each of the newborns to death. Three years later, he had his first glimpse at what you see every day. Color. Texture. Huge expanses of sky. Tiny insects hovering on the nearly infinite numbers of blades of grass.

A teacher in Bais Yaakov Sem here in Yerushalaim sometimes recounts her childhood. She was hidden in a cellar during the holocaust for days at a time. Her friends were the roaches and mice that inhabited her mini-world. She knew what the real world looked like. Avraham didn't.  When the stars disappear by day, leaving the unrelenting heat and light of the sun, it diminished his awe of the stars. Sunset made him realize that the sun is vulnerable to the forces of darkness. Asking his father didn't give Avraham any real answers. What he saw that no one else did was that all that he would ever see is created by one supreme G-d who dominates all reality. Avraham devoted his life to seeking out and revealing the unified power that lies below the awesome plurality of creation. He made it his mission to bring Hashem down to earth by following the path of kindness and justice in his everyday life, and seeing Hashem's Hand in daily events.

IN THE TIME OF THE AVOS

Do you try to do this? Maybe? In Chicago, it isn't so easy. Hashem revealed the place that would nurture Avraham's vision, but first He gave him tests. Each test took him to a higher level of perception. Hashem finally took him to a place where the unity of Heaven and earth is most visible. The foundation stone of the entire world (even shetiya in Hebrew) is there. The mosque is built over it today. Adam offered sacrifices there (according to Rambam), so did Noach after the flood. These sacrifices had the effect of closing the gap between the animalistic nature hidden within you and your spiritual soul.  This is where Avraham was told to bring Yitzchak to be an elevation offering. It was only when it was clear that Avraham would not falter, that Hashem sent an angel to tell him not to do anything to Yitzchak. The place was renamed. Avraham called it, "G-d will see”. Today, it is therefore said ‘On G-d’s mountain He will be seen’. Yitzchak also was drawn to this place. It is the "field" recorded in the Torah as his place of prayer. He was able to take the message of Hashem's unity with His creations from the mountain where he had his great moment, to daily spiritual self-discipline. Later Yaakov found himself in the very same place when he ran away from his parent's home to escape from his brother, Eisov. He had inadvertently passed it. When he went back, he slept and had his famous ladder dream. The ladder is what connects this world to its higher root. He saw the essential unity between both worlds there, and called the place a "House of G-d". A house is a place where you daily activities take place. He recognized it as a place in which you can echo Hashem's will in even the smallest and least significant choices that you make day by day.

THE MISHKAN

When he went down to Egypt, he planted trees. His intent was that they could be used in the sanctuary that he knew prophetically that Hashem would give his descendants the privilege of building. When his children left Egypt, the time for the commandment, "Build me a sanctuary so that I live in you (note-in you, not 'in it"). The mishkan (sanctuary) built in the desert carried the message of the unity of the world with its Creator, and the way in which this is mirrored in every single person. The world is in fact compared to a giant human, and each person to a miniature world. The mishkan was an experiential map of how your world and G-d's world interconnect.

When the Jews entered Israel, the mishkan was moved several time. It was in Shiloh for 369 years. When I visited contemporary Shilo several years ago, I went to the newly excavated tel. There were stone chards on one side, and none on the other. Rabbi Heshie Reichman (whose wife, Chasida is my dear friend) told me that the reason is that when sin offerings were done, they were accompanied by libations (pouring out liquids), and that the vessels used were shattered. The ritual was done facing one direction; hence, the chards were likely the remains of one of the broken vessels. Later the chards were dated at M.I.T., and the dating placed them in the right era. I had picked up a few chards, and they now are on a shelf in my living room. When I see them, I identify deeply with someone who I will never know who, lived over 3000 years ago, and who wanted to bridge the gap between who he is and who he wanted to be.  Finally, King David built the foundations of a permanent building that his son, Shlomo built over seven years. It was destroyed in 3338, when the layers separating our souls from our base desires and ego grew too thick for the light of the Bais HaMikdash to penetrate. The prophet's messages became more and full of rebuke and reproof in what turned out to be a futile attempt to penetrate our hearts. I write our hearts, because if things were different now, it would be rebuilt. Forty-eight prophets were recorded for all ages. There were, however, thousands and thousands of others, whose messages were relevant to their times.   The seventy years of exile concluded with a partial return to Eretz Yisrael and building the Second Temple in 3408. The luminosity of the first one was never restored. Nonetheless, it had a spiritual force to it that is greater than anything you or I can imagine. What held it together was our unity as a people. When we lost that, the Bais HaMikdash was destroyed. The Tanaim and Amoraim (teachers in the Mishneh and Gemarrah) preserved its design in Mishneh Middos, and the rituals of the korbanos in Kodshim. And we're left with our empty hearts, and our blocked yearnings for more.

Have a meaningful fast on Tisha B'Av (It comes out on July 31)

As ever,

Tziporah 

Dear Friends,

A family friend told us this story about himself. He was brought up with traditional Jewish values but was rather weak when it came to observance. Once he was in Florida with friends and they rented a boat. The weather turned against them, and it capsized. The shore seemed millions of miles away, and every stroke left him breathless and weaker than the one before. His friends were out of sight, his lungs felt like they were about to burst, and then he made his vow. "G-d, if you save me, I swear I'll go to Israel and study Torah". The words were barely out of his mouth when a fishing boat passed, threw him a rope and got him safely to shore. Then he added the crucial words:

"As soon as I can"

That meant when he finishes his degree. Then it meant when he and Marla finally get married. Then it meant when they have a big enough nest egg to put down a serious down payment on an apartment. Then it meant when the kids finish school. I have no idea of where the story would have ended except for what happened next. "I had a dream", he told us. "I was back in the water; I knew how close I was to death. When I woke up I told Marla, "It's time" and we were in Israel within two weeks."

How far do you have to be pushed before you remember some of the vows that you made consciously or subconsciously? 

Your read Tehillim sometimes. You say, "If I forget you, Yerushalaim, may my right hand forget its cunning". The three weeks between the time that walls surrounding Yerushalaim were breached, and Temple was destroyed are beginning this coming week. In Eichah it says, "All of her enemies caught up to her between the sieges" The simple meaning of the verse is that the time between the beginning of the siege and its tragic end was a time that all of our enemies who were trying to destroy Yerushalaim (the her in the pasuk) reached their goal". The Arizal has an entirely different take. He says the "her" is the Shechina, G-d's presence. This time, these 21 precious days are the time of the worst calamities and defeats is the time you can "pursue her and catch up to her".  You can recall the oath to remember Yerushalaim and uproot the senseless hatred that brought it about.

One of the most important ways to do this is to look more seriously at your speech. Try to find reasons to speak well of every Jew you encounter. When you see failure, feel compassion just as you do when you face your own failures. You can touch other people's lives, and almost re-create them.

The Parshah read at the beginning of the three weeks is Mattos. It begins with the laws of vows. Why is this relevant to this time of year?

Rav Hirsch the famous German Jewish commentator points out that reality can be divided into three segments. There are things that the Torah forbids. This means that when you do this (stealing for instance) you suffer spiritual harm. The act can't be redefined by "good" intentions ("liberating goods" from an electronic goods store during a riot, or long term anonymous borrowing in the dorm...). The verb for forbidden, therefore is "assur' which literally means tied down. When the Torah requires that you do something, such as giving tzedakah you have given the highest possible avenue of self- expression to your spiritual soul. It isn't just the world that is affected, you are changed, and that change lasts forever. This includes when the Torah doesn't either forbid or require you to do something specific in that great grey area. It includes whom you befriend or marry, what career you choose etc. This doesn't mean that all choices are equally good. It means that you have to recognize that your situation is unique to you, and make the best choices possible. Making a vow may strengthen you resolve. That isn't the only reason the vow is important. To quote Maharal, there is something transcendent in words; they aren’t just sounds, but a bridge that takes your inner life, which is has a thread of infinity within it, and gives it finite expression in this finite world.  They ultimately define your relationship to the world you live in, and to G-d.

The first one to make a vow in the Torah was Yaakov. After he had to leave his home to escape his brother Eisov, he vowed that if G-d gives him bread and a garment to wear and returns him to his home, he (Yaakov) would tithe everything he has. His words were an expression of his inner reality and for that reason; they carried enormous weight when he made his famous vow. Yaakov's strongest characteristic was his sense of truth. He could see the entire picture, rather than just the parts that resonated to him. For this reason, he was able to raise each of his very divergent sons to be a tzadik without their being like him or like each other. You can choose to be more like Yaakov.

You know enough to realize that making vows in general is a bad idea (since you may not fulfill them) and in any case don't have any particular desire to take on anything that you don't have to. Your vow to remember Yerushalaim should inspire you to use your words differently, more lovingly, more respectfully. This isn't easy. None of you live in a world in which everyone is positive. You may have suffered disappointments, and met people who were less than inspiring. That makes your choices of words harder, and your growth more significant than they were when you were in the Neve bubble.

As always,

Tziporah

Dear Friends,

When I was a child, Parshat Balak was one of my favorite Parshiyot. It had everything; action, high drama, a talking donkey, clearly demarcated Bad Guys and a sprinkle of sorcery. The other girls in my class in Bais Yaakov, who had never had the benefit (?) of T.V., liked it even better. When I got to High School and learned it with the commentaries, it was a completely different experience. It was not a Divine Technicolor epic. It was one of the most profound glimpses into a world we rarely see.

The Parshah begins with a narrative in which Balak, the king of Moav, hires Bilaam one of history's most enigmatic figures to curse the Jews. Bilaam had achieved a penetratingly insightful view of reality. Through cutting through the layers of self that conceal the spiritual core of reality, he achieved a level of prophecy that was only equaled by Moshe. His ability to reach this level was not just a matter of having learned meditative means of going beyond self. It was G-d's will that a non-Jew reach that far in order that there will never be a justified complaint made that everything would have been different had G-d given the non-Jewish world a prophet like Moshe. Then, they could argue, they would have had a far less materialistic view of life-they would know that there is more. Bilaam isn't exactly a name that you hear very often today, but in the ancient world he was a bigger than life figure. The reason that his curses could have been a real threat can be understood only when you realize that he was using truth as his weapon.

His plan was to draw down Hashem's justice to this world by focusing on the actual and real failures of His people.  He had enough clarity to know that every choice has consequences, and that there is moment of judgment daily when Hashem regards the world through His attribute of justice, which in our language would equal anger. The voice of anger always says, "This isn't how things should be",

There is so much that isn't as it should be!

This isn't just then, but now and always. The sin of the golden calf, the betrayal by the spies, the mass hysteria surrounding the episode in which Moshe hit the rock out of fear of being stoned if he didn't provide them with water immediately was on the record. It all was indelible. There was a higher and deeper level of truth. Hashem forced him to see it against his will by making his donkey speak.. It saw an angel blocking its way, while the" master guru" couldn't see a thing. The donkey wasn't blocked by ego and he had to see this. He had to see that he was far less whole than the animal was. He continued his journey together with Balak. They faced Kiryat Chutzot, literally a city with many outdoor market places hoping that G-d would have mercy on the burgeoning population of Moabites that they face. Instead, he was forced to tell the truth: I cannot curse the ones who G-d chose to bless. They are the children of the Patriarchs and Matriarchs who are compared to great mountains and sturdy hills. It isn't only this merit; they are the only people who can elevate the very earth by doing here and now mitzvot that involve even the earth itself.  Balak did not give up, which led to Bilaam’s second prophecy. Balak and Bilaam went to the "field of lookouts” where guards watched out for invaders. This is also near Mt. Nebo where Moshe would die in the near future. It seemed like the perfect place - but he was forced to say that "God isn't a man who lies, or a mortal who (ends up) reconsidering his decision. He chose not to look at the actions of His people, He sees no perversity "G-d their G-d is with them, even when they provoke Him, and even when they retain the King's friendship". He pointed out that it was with this commitment in mind that Hashem took us out of Egypt.

The third time Bilaam tried it was on the peak of Peor, overlooking the wastelands, where later they would succumb to idolatry and be punished for doing so. He thought that punishement could equal doom. This time he wanted to give expression to his jealousy ("evil eye”) in order to awaken acussations about their wealth. Instead, he saw that we still retain decency and privacy in our relationships and a level of discretion that he had not seen before. His fourth and final prophecy concerned the future when Moshaich comes. His is the most overt prediction of Moshiach's coming in the entire Chumash!

One of the great ironies is that in the midst of curses and accusations, it seems that everything that we yearned for is fulfilled. What is even more amazing is that Moav, the very people who Balak is leading are Ruth's nation. She is King David's great-grandmother, and ultimately the ancestor of Moshiach.

What all of this tells you is that victory can emerge from defeat, blessing from curses, and what is most relevant to you, is that the opportunities to grow, change, and become the kind of person that you want to be which can happen because of, not inspite of, your defeats.

The three weeks are a time of mourning for the Temple that was destroyed because of our tragic habit of hating each other senselessly. This inevitably is the result of losing track of our common soul, and common destiny. If you take yourself back to your worst moments, you can use them as inspirations to do things differently. See your fellow Jew through Hashem's eyes; the patriarch's and matriarchs are within them and within you. No matter how much you feel "out of it" you can turn the self-imposed curses that may haunt you into blessings.

Love, and still hoping to see you in the Bais HaMikdash sooner than you think,

Tziporah