Parshas BaMidbar

In this week's sidra, Parshas BaMidbar, we begin a new book, the Book of BaMidbar (literally, "in the desert"), also known as the Book of Numbers. Interestingly, the anglicized name for this book actually has a source in rabbinic literature, as the rabbis of the Talmud often referred to it by this name, because this book contains a great deal of accounting, so to speak. The first parsha alone, this week, includes a national census, the allocation of Camps among the 12 Tribes, marching orders (for their travels "in the desert"), and duties within the Temple for the Levites and Cohanim. To understand, therefore, this Book of Numbers, we must understand what the concept of counting means to us, especially since we find ourselves now in the middle of counting the Omer (as mentioned above). On a simple level, when we count things, we do two things: first, we assert the existence of each member of the count (i.e. as 1 amongst X), and second, we connect the individual with a group, or one could even say, define the individual by his place in the group. For example, if we have a whole pile of fruits on the table in front of us, we could decide to count big fruits, or small fruits, or red fruits, etc. and by doing so we would be "bringing out", so to speak, a certain characteristic of those fruits. In the Torah, when the Jewish people are counted, they are counted without distinctions: 1 Jew, 1/2 shekel (the manner of counting was to take a token from each family). Therefore, in this count, the Torah means to bring out the essential nature of each member of the count; simply by existing as themselves they become worthy of inclusion, the poor beggar, and even the sinner, equally with the great Torah scholar. On a personal level, as we make our way from the miracles of Pesach, when G-d Almighty took the Jews out of Egypt with great miracles, to the upcoming holiday of Shavuot, commemorating the giving of the Torah at Mt. Sinai, when the Heavens descended to Earth, and the Earth went up to Heaven, the Torah commands that we to should count, within ourselves. Just like the general counting written about in this week's portion, we should intend with our personal (ac)counting to bring out the essential aspects of our personalities. For each part of our souls Hashem should help us to grow and move forward in all respects, both as individuals, and as members of a larger community. In this way, we should merit to once agin "receive the Torah", connecting the actual and the potential, just like the Heavens and the Earth connected at Mt. Sinai, and bringing the world to a higher plane of existence.

Hag HaShavuot

Tomorrow (and also Saturday, shabbos, outside of Israel) we celebrate the holiday of Shavuot, the festival of Weeks, which commemorates the giving of the Torah at Mt. Sinai, and comes exactly 50 days (7 Weeks of 7 Days) after Pesach; the days we have been counting during the process of the Sefirat (counting) Ha'Omer. Every year, there is a tradition that on the evening of Shavuot (this evening) communities gather together in their synagogues and stay up the whole night learning Torah and then pray the morning holiday service at sunrise. Here in Yerushalayim the entire city will stream to the Kotel (the Western Wall) at the break of dawn. The reason for this custom goes back to the first year in the Desert, when the Jews received the Torah, the story goes that they actually slept-in that morning, and Hashem had to come wake them up (with coffee, toast and eggs of course)! The Midrash (a collection of stories and laws from the Oral Tradition) explains that the "sleep of Shavuos is sweet and the night is short", and additionally the fleas did not bit them that night. However, this answer is not quite satisfying. After Israel left Egypt, Moshe told them that in 50 days they would receive the Torah, and out of their great excitement, the took it upon themselves to count down the days, like a young child waiting to receive a present. If they already had such great excitement 50 days prior, than how much more so on the night before the Giving of the Torah, and as such, how could they possibly sleep through such a highly anticipated event? The air of preparation that surrounded the Jews then, and continues to surround us now during this time of the year, therefore leads us to the conclusion that somehow this "nap" really meant to heighten their preparation even further. We can see further proof also in the miracle that occurred that night: the fleas did not bite! Their actions (or lack their of) could not have run totally contrary to the intent of the moment if nature changed on their behalf. So, we must now ask the question of how did this sleep actually help them prepare to receive the Torah?
One answer, given by the Alter Rebbe, Rabbi Shneur Zalman of Liadi, the first Rebbe of ChaBaD, explains that since spirituality and physicality for the most part do not interact, for the soul to participate in a spiritual event, like the Giving of the Torah, while connected to a physical body may prove quite difficult. However, when a person sleeps, most of his soul leaves his body and returns to the spiritual realms in order to get its own rest. Therefore, by sleeping the Jewish people thought maybe they could connect on a deeper and more profound level during this important moment. Despite their good intentions, the plan did not succeed and they had to awaken before the Giving of the Torah. Because Torah speaks about matters of the world (which foods to eat, relations between husband and wife, business practices, legal principles, etc.) the primary intention becomes fulfilled specifically in the world, through thought, speech and deed, and not through spiritual highs. For example, the most important moments in Judaism have always revolved around basic "milestone events" in people's lives; the birth of a child (and his bris, if it is a boy), coming of age (bar or bat mitzvah), marriage, holidays, etc. and not around life-changing spiritual experiences. Practice such as prayer and study serve as the foundation that allows us to appreciate all these other aspects of our lives and to take true joy in them. Therefore the true intention of the Giving of the Torah specifically required that the Jews "keep their souls in their bodies", so to speak, in order that they could fulfill its precepts and transform the world, instead of leaving it.
Every year the events commemorated by the festivals happen again, if only in a spiritual manner, and therefore this year as well the Jewish people and the whole World will receive the Torah, and along with it, the ability to transform the world through increasing in education, tzedakah and good deeds.
With the traditional blessing, To receive the Torah with Joy and in a personally meaningful way.
Hag Sameach and Shabbat Shalom.

Slichus in Kazakhstan, Part III

Since it has now been a more than a month since I returned from Kazakhstan, and several weeks since I updated this story, I would like to give a disclaimer that the following story may be missing some details...
The next morning, the 13th of Nissan, after davening and a short breakfast, we headed over to the Chesed (local jewish community) center at 9 AM. There, we made a had to casher a few large pots, one which we would then use to kasher all the other utensils. This we accomplished with a blow torch. The process requires that the metal should reach a heat that if one put a piece of straw on the metal at that moment, in would singe and burn. For these utenstils (a couple of pots, some knives, and some other kitchen items), it meant passing the flame over the a spot several times for a few seconds, and covering the whole surface like this inside, outside, and on the bottom as well. After that, we had to casher the cook top. This means cleaning the actual top of the stove, covering it with tin foil, and then bringing all of the burner components (including the grate) to a very high level of heat. For most of them, we can achieve this just be running the flame on high for an space of time, however, the grates need to have the heat directly applied, and this we also did with the blowtorch. Because, however, the grates come into contact with food when they are red hot (from the gas flame), therefore to casher one must also get them red hot. This mean holding the blowtorch over a section of the burner for several minutes. Eventually I recognized that when the enamel covering began to melt away, that we had reached the desired temperatures. This took nearly a full hour to do two grates (covering 4 burners). At this point we reassembled the stove, put a large pot full of water on and boiled it. This achieved two purposes: (1) to casher the burner components (as mentioned above), (2) we would use the boiling water to casher the eating utensils (forks, knives, and spoons), which only touch food which has already been removed from the fire, and therefore require less heat to casher. During all of this time we were covering up the various surfaces in the kitchen and also koshering the metal sink with the blow torch. We even used the cashering method known as "pouring" where we pour boiling water on a surface and then pass the flame over the water; this is effective for countertops and the like. Because of the stringencies assosciated with Passover, we even had to cover to surfaces that we cashered. Between various other errands, involved with shopping and planning the seder, this day was also very busy and we went home exhausted around 6 PM.
The night of the 14th of Nissan (the night before Erev Pesach) we perform the important mitzvah of bedikas hometz, or searching for the hometz (anything leavened is called "hometz" in hebrew). This meant first cleaning our apartment, and then, according to the ChaBaD custom, hiding ten small pieces of hametz (corresponding to the ten faculties of the soul) around the house, and then looking for them by candle light. When we "find" some hometz, we sweep it into a paper bag with a feather, and after we have found all ten, we wrap the bag (with the hometz inside) and the feather around the wooden spoon. Then we put this aside until the following morning when we will burn this hometz, and sell all the rest we have in our possesion, completing the purging of all our hometz. The night was spent going over the order of the Pesach seder.
The activities involving our hometz occupied us until around 11 the next morning, and in the meantime the members of Chesed began cooking their meal. This went on with little drama, except that one of the women decided to bring her own knife to gut the fish, which unfortunately led to the tossing out of one non-kosher fish. We put up our two chickens (that we brought from Almaty, where the butcher is) to boil; this would be all our food for the next 4 days; and then left the rest of the staff there to do their own work preparing for the meal, with our supervision. Around 5 o'clock or so we headed back to the marketplace to pick up some last minute items for the seder (matzah bags, etc), and then back our flat to prepare for the seder. However, for a moment things appeared in risk because someone had parked us in at the market. Sunset was approaching, so I quickly pulled out my Book of Tehillim (psalms) and said a few chapters, and right behind us the owner of this car that had parked us in showed up and let us out. After a showering, changing, and davening mincha, we headed over to the restaurant arund 6:30 matzas, wine, chicken, and the rest of our seder plate ingrediants, in hand. [These ingredients were: hard-boiled eggs, roasted chicken necks, chrain (horseradish, one of the ladies as G-d's providence would have it, grew just enough in her garden for me and Nachman!), lettuce leaves, and charoset (apples and nuts, no wine in ChaBaD custom)] Before I left the apartment, I realized that had drunken almost no water in the previous two days, and that I felt a bit lightheaded. I chugged a liter of water and then headed off.
When we arrived at the restaurant, we checked out the scene: the children were preparing to perform a play that they had staged for the event, but Nachman had to explain to them that they could not use a CD player, because the holiday was starting and holidays are just like shabbos. The play was not very modest and so I stayed in the back trying to review a little bit before the seder, however, I could not concentrate and my head was starting to throb. A young boy from London who grew up in Almaty and Teraz (the grandson of the old Yiddishe lady, who wanted to slaughter a sheep in honor of the Pesach offering, even as we explained the difficulties in kosher slaughter, etc), came and spoke to us for a little while; he pointed out that my face as very pale. A journalist came to interview us and Nachman, did most of the talking, I said I came from Brooklyn, I think that it was they wanted to hear... After sunset we davened Maariv (evening prayers), and as I went outside to set up, the 50 or so guests began to applaud. At this point, I realized that me and then had very different expectations of what this seder would be, and this made me quite nervous. Even object I put on the seder plate was like a new character entering the stage, required more applause. The staff told us that they were having trouble pouring the grape juice for everybody and that would need to stall abit, although it was already approaching 9 o'clock, and the guests were hungry. Nachman and I tried to give an introduction to the seder, and explain that we may not eat for another hour; this elicited grumbles and my head continued to swirl. Next I made kiddush, hoping that the wine would calm me down abit, but as the seder progressed and moved in the section known as "Maggid", the "Telling" (where we read the story...) I suddenly felt very ill and ran to the bathroom. The toilets there were glorified holes in the ground (although thankfully clean) and I vomited up the entire liter of water that I drank earlier and the first (of four) glass of wine. I threw some cold water on my face, and returned to the seder, by which point many of the guests had already left. I whispered to Nachman, "Dude, I just threw up in the bathroom." "No way man!" I sat down at the table and tried to catch up, while Nachman took charge and led the dwindling crowd threw the seder. When it came time to eat the matzah, I was very pained, and it took me nearly 20 minutes to each one piece, not to mention the morror and the afikomen. For the "meal" I took one bite of my egg, and then tried to finish the rest of the seder as quickly as I can. This mean blessing the meal, singing praises, and drinking two cups of wine. At this point, maybe only 10 guests remained; three of them, the old lady, her son, and her grandson, offered words of incouragement: "Nobody here knows what a seder is supposed to be anyway", "We're sticking with you to the end". It was very inspiring, a little like shtetl Rocky. When I did managed to finish, I quickly gathered up my belongings and crawled over to Nachman to ask him to take me home. He told me he couldn't because he had to deal with the guests, and I got very mad at him and started calling him self-centered. Finally, I had him grab Vlad (our driver) for me to take me back, which he did very graciously. A chugged some water and passed out.
The next morning I felt much better, but most of the day I spent in bed, except for the obligitory holiday prayers and meal. Boruch Hashem, by the time of the second seder I was feeling much better, and I showed up at the Chesed center in considerably higher spirits. This seder went very smooth for me and Nachman and I did a lot of teaching to the smaller crowd. We sang some songs and generally had a freilich (joyful) evening. I think that the second night of seder is my favorite of the whole year (it also happens the first time I walked into a ChaBaD house). When this night was over, we went home to sleep and relax a bit after our hard work.
To be continued...

Parshas BeHar-BeChukosai

This week's Torah portion is again a double sidra, parshas Be'Har-Be'Chukosai, and the last in the book of Vayikra (Leviticus), the third book in the Torah of Moshe. The word Be'Har, literally means "on the mountain" and refers to the instructions which Moshe received on Mt. Sinai, specifically here the laws of agricultural cycles. The Torah instructs that in the land of Israel once every 7 years should be a "shabbos", a year of rest, for the land where nothing is sown or harvested (known as "shimtta", we just had one this past year), and once every 50 years is known as jubilee. The jubilee is similar to shimtta, except that additionally all sold lands are returned to their original owner (as established by laws of inheritance from when the Jews first entered the land of Israel after the 40 years in the desert), and all slaves are freed. Be'Chukosai literally means "in my statues" and begins a long list of rewards and punishments (more of the later, unfortunately, G-d should protect us!) that come as a result of observance or disobedience of the said "statutes". Since generally in ChaBaD we like to focus on the positive, I would like to share something on the former sidra, Parshas Be'Har, regarding the laws of slaves, about which it is written that we may not treat a jewish slave in an oppressive manner, however, we may burden a "canaannite" slave with backbreaking labor (this slave comes from one of the 7 nations that inhabited Israel before the exodus from Egypt). Although the Torah permits such behavior, the Rambam, Maimonides, the illustrious codifier of Jewish law, teaches that it is "the Trait of Kindness and the Way of Wisdom" to treat even the canaanite slave as an equal, and that the great sages would feed their animals and their slaves before they themselves ate. He explains the logical reason that one's property should not be damaged (i.e. a sick slave) and that the slave should not flee, however, if this logic held so strongly, and the Way of Wisdom so clear, than seemingly the Rambam would not have to explain also that such behavior represents a Trait of Kindness. Therefore, we learn from this that primarily this behavior comes from kindness, and that the monetary benefit only adds to the incentive. Furthermore, because the Rambam here compares this treatment of slaves to the treatment of animals, we can say that just as feeding one's animal before oneself defies logic, so does feeding one's slave; and in fact a master would have good reason NOT to treat his slave in this manner, so that he will not become accustomed to such comforts and shirk his responsibilities as a slave. So, we must certainly say that this halacha, this law, which the Rambam brings, primarily relies on this Trait of Kindness, and not the Way of Wisdom. As regards this Trait of Kindness, the Rambam continues, and explains that such behavior first appeared in the world by Abraham, our Father, who achieved fame for his great hospitality, even bringing in guests out of the desert to share his Pesach meal WHILE recovering from his bris at the ripe age of 99! In our case, however, this kindness inherited from Abraham, does not even suffice, as the Rambam continues to explain two further reasons for acting with mercy: (1) Torah demands that a man act with such mercy, (2) Hashem commands that we should imitate his traits, just as He is exceedingly kind and merciful, so should we be. Therefore, the kindness expected from us here does not refer to a simple human kindness, that taught to us by Abraham (which often depends on whether the recipient is deserving of such), but rather a much higher, divine level of kindness, one with no limitations, that of the Torah and the Holy One Blessed be He! Since before G-d all stand equally, both those deserving of mercy and those seemingly not, his kindness truly knows no bounds, and with the power of the Torah, we too can act with such a level of kindness and mercy. Still, we must explain, why does the Rambam teach us this concept with regard to slaves? Simply put, compared to Hashem, all humans are likes slaves (I've included a chapter from the Book of Psalms which relates to this concept), and nevertheless we are taught that everything Hashem expects from us He Himself fulfills, and therefore we should all know that even when we find ourselves in a very low place (about canaanite slaves it is written that "they prefer loose women"), Hashem always acts towards us with abundant mercy, even "feeding" us first from his dinner plate, so to speak, in order that we should have the strength to move on and continue to grow in Torah, and in tzedakah a good deeds. I appreciate everyone for reading this week's slightly longer email, and I would like to give us all a blessing, in the merit of Rabbi Shimon bar Yochai, that Hashem's limitless kindness should be revealed in all of our lives in very open ways!

Psalm 123
1. A song of ascents. To You have I lifted my eyes, You Who are enthroned in heaven. 2. Indeed, as the eyes of servants are turned to the hand of their masters, as the eyes of a maid to the hand of her mistress, so are our eyes turned to the Lord our God, until He will be gracious to us. 3. Be gracious to us, Lord, be gracious to us, for we have been surfeited with humiliation. 4. Our soul has been overfilled with the derision of the complacent, with the scorn of the arrogant.

Parshas Emor

This week's sidra is Parshas Emor, which literally means "speak", and comes from the first verse which reads "And the Lord said to Moses: Speak to the kohanim, the sons of Aaron, and say to them: Let none [of you] defile himself for a dead person among his people." This begins the enumeration of a series of laws regarding the maintaining of the purity of the kohanim, the priests, specifically with regard to mourning practices, permitted and forbidden marriages, and the requirement that no physically deformed kohain (i.e. disproportional limbs, cleft-lip, deaf, blind, etc.) may serve in the Temple. The parsha also includes a recap of the three major pilgrimage festivals: Pesach, Shavuot (coming up in just a few weeks), and Rosh Hashana-Yom Kippur-Succoth.
Among the commandments given regarding the kohanim in this sidra, they are split into two broad categories: commandments that Moshe should give to the kohanim that they should teach their children (in other words, that they must keep for themselves), and those that Moshe should give to the general community that they should impose upon the kohanim, even by force if necessary. Specifically, Hashem made the kohanim responsible for keeping the morning practices and the laws of permitted/forbidden marriages, while the Beit Din (the High Court) had the responsibility to ensure that only kosher kohanim (those without any physical blemish) served in the Temple. Since the destruction of the Temple these laws entrusted to the High Court no longer factor in the life of a kohan, however, still to this day a kohan may not enter a cemetary and may not marry, for example, a divorcee. Therefore, we see that those laws entrusted to the kohanim to keep for themselves, still hold in effect today, while those given the High Court no longer do.
In general, these two categories of laws for the kohanim, correspond to two aspects of the the kohan: (1) The essential and simple holiness (or separateness) of the kohan that he takes as an inheritance from his father and which he will keep for himself and his children; and (2) the kohan's duty to serve in the Temple, which depends both on the existence of the Temple, and the guidance of the rest of the nation of Israel. Now we can understand why the laws given to the kohanim themselves (re: mourning and marriage) still hold in effect today. Since these laws relate to the essential being of the kohan (as opposed to the service of the kohan) he can continue to keep them, even when the Temple does not stand. The second aspect of the kohan, however, that of his service in the Temple, depends on external factors, even to the point that it can seemingly become obsolete.
On a personal level we can also take instruction from this portion in the Torah. The Rebbe teaches that each person has a personal temple inside of him in which he must serve as the High Priest. Therefore, in each person's soul he also posses these two aspects: (1) as essential aspect that cannot be nullified, and (2) an external, or superficial, aspect which depends on circumstances. Even if his or her personal Temple lays in ruins, we must all know that essentially we still retain our unique, G-d given holiness and that we always have the power to move from strength to strength despite any obstacles that may appear to stand in our way. I would like to give us all a blessing that we should always be aware of this inner strength we have and that we should continue to grow and increase in tzedakah and good deeds, as we move towards a more perfect world.

Parshas Acharei Mot-Kedoshim

This week's sidra is again a combined portion (this accommodates the system of leap and simple years on the calendar), Parshas Acharei Mot-Kedoshim, taken from the first verse of each respective parsha. Achrei Mot (literally "after the death") refers to the death of Aharon's sons Nadav and Avihu (which we encountered a few weeks ago), who were killed for bringing "foreign" incense onto the alter, while intoxicated from wine, and the portion deals primarily with the instructions for the Yom Kippur service to be carried out in the Temple by the High Priest, Aharon. Kedoshim literally means "sanctified" and refers to the House of Israel, who Hashem tells, "You shall be sanctified, because I the Lord your G-d am sanctified". This portion contains a list of dozens of mitzvahs (commandments) relating to prohibitions against idolatry, charity, Shabbos, sexual morality and more. It also includes one of the most famous commandments in all the Torah, "To love your fellow as yourself". The great sage Rabbi Akiva called this mitzvah a cardinal principle of the Torah, and Rabbi Hillel the Elder said it encompasses the entire Torah and the rest is only explanation. What is very puzzling, however, is that there is also a mitzvah to hate your fellow if you find him sinning. How can these two seemingly conflicting commandments exist side by side? One explanation brings out the specifics of this instruction, which require that he should be your "fellow" in the way of Torah and Mitzvot; in other words, that he lives similarly to you in terms of education and practice. Furthermore, there is another mitzvah in this parsha which commands that if you see your fellow sinning, you will "surely rebuke him". Only once you have rebuked (your fellow) and he still did not return from his wayward path, then you are commanded to hate him. However, if you have not fulfilled the conditions mentioned above, then you can not hate him, and should still perform the separate mitzvah of loving him as yourself. Furthermore, even when the commandment to hate does apply, our commandment here, to love him, continues to apply as well, at the same time! He should hate him for that which he does not do properly, and love him for the spark of G-dliness and goodness which resides in every human being, even though it may be hidden. At this point he can arouse compassion and mercy for this spark of good that has, so to speak, been taken captive by that which opposes it, and this compassion will destroy the hatred and awaken the love; which we learn this from the teachings of kabbala, regarding the three primary emotional traits: kindness, severity and mercy (a combination of the first two, "learning" towards kindness).