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Rabbi's Blog

Jewish Thought of the Week

 

 

A waiter approaches a table in a Kosher restaurant where three Jewish ladies are having lunch. After summoning him a million times with different issues with their dishes, he comes over one more time. 

He asks, “Before I go ladies... is ANYTHING ok over here? 

 

I guess we can call their motto  “Born to Kvetch.”

 

In this week’s Parsha the Torah lists the species of birds that are not Kosher. One of them is called Ra’ah. It is a bird of prey, a type of buzzard or vulture. It is called Ra’ah because of its excellent vision, sighting its prey from a great distance. To convey this idea the Talmud states that a Ra’ah has such good vision that it can be “situated in Bavel (Babylon) and see a carcass in Eretz Yisrael(Israel).”

 

The Baal Shem Tov points out that this is why (spiritually) the Ra’ah is a non-kosher bird. It looks at Eretz Yisrael, a place that is saturated with holiness and positivity, and all it sees is a carcass.

 

Some refer to this the “missing tile syndrome.” This is the tendency to focus only on the negative or what is missing rather than to consider the overwhelming presence of positives.

 

We would be well served to train ourselves to see people and situations in a more positive light. It allows to experience more joy and gladness of heart. It is a gateway to a greater degree of gratitude in our lives, which leads to fulfillment and satisfaction.

 

The Baal Shem Tov adds a nuance to his teaching. The Hebrew word for Babylon is Bavel, which in Hebrew comes from the same root as the word for confusion or chaos. When we are in 'Bavel', meaning that we are confused about priorities in life and in a state of spiritual chaos, we tend to see positive things or people, indicated by the term Eretz Yisrael, as lowly 'carcasses'.

 

In fact, this is because we are seeing ourselves in that person or situation. We confuse the tranquility of holiness for the chaos of prioritizing materialism. If all we see is a carcass, that is most likely because we are living carcass-like lives.

 

In order to have “Kosher vision,” we must train ourselves to have a more positive perspective on life and everything that we encounter. Our lives will be richer, more meaningful, and more G-dly.

 

As we are just a month away from Rosh Hashanah, this might be a good lead on a New Year’s resolution that can be kept for this month!

 

Shabbat Shalom and may we all be inscribed and sealed for a good and sweet year filled with good health, prosperity, meaningful spiritual growth, peace and security, and the complete redemption.

 

Rabbi Yitzi and Rishi Hein 

Ukrainian Mystics and Suburban Mystics

Dear Friends,

Have you ever met a mystic?

This Shabbat, the twentieth day of the month of Menachem Av, is the 80th Yahrzeit of the esteemed Kabbalist, Rabbi Levi Yitzchak Schneerson, of blessed memory (the father of the Lubavitcher Rebbe).

He served as a revered rabbi in Ukraine for many years. He led the Ukrainian Jewish community and defied the communists' war on religion. Unfortunately, he was eventually arrested and exiled by the Soviet authorities, which deteriorated his health until his passing at the age of 66.

But all that came the latter part of his life. For most of his life he is what we would call a Jewish 'mystic' of 'Kabbalist.'

His teaching style was very unique because it blended Kabbalah and "Remez", the field of the Torah which deals typological or allegorical interpretations.

I can't say I am a maven on his teachings, but I will be studying at least one teaching of his tomorrow on the Yahrzeit. (If you want to take a  crack at it - here is one brilliant mystical teaching of Rabbi Levi Yitzchak on chabad.org). 

To demystify the term 'mystic' and teachings of 'mysticism': A Jewish authentic mystic shows  you in their teachings how even in a seemingly "simple" practical Jewish law, there are hints and secrets beyond the simple and basic explanation (a.k.a. Kabbalist meaning). Rabbi Levi Yitzchak's writings, as a great Kabbalist, are full of similar interpretations and hints, illustrating the sanctity of the Torah and how every letter in it is perfectly precise.

In plain English: mysticism takes a closer look at what appears to be simple, and unpacks how profound, cosmic and far-reaching those very simple things can be.

 This is very relevant to us in 2024. We all must aspire to be 'suburban mystics.' 

'Suburban' in that we Jews live as part of our world and our communities. Living, enjoying, contributing, connecting with others.

But beneath that we should be seeking the deeper meaning of all of that.

This is what the legacy of Rabbi Levi Yitzchak is:

Take the simple, study it to unpack its nuclear energy to change the world.

I, for one, relish in this paradox of being a 'Suburban Pittsford Mystic.'

And I think many others in 2024 qualify as well, without even realizing it. People who are doing the work, digging deep, looking for deeper meaning in life - 'suburban mystics' come in all shapes and colors. 

But we can all benefit by studying the works of bona-fide Jewish mystics as they will give language to many thing we sense and feel. 

If you are interested in some good recommendations - just email me [email protected]

May the merit and example of selfless dedication of Rabbi Levi Yitzchak on his Yahrzeit serve all of us in our jobs as 'suburban mystics' to heal the world. 

Shabbat shalom,

Rabbi Yitzi Hein

 

Jewish Thought of the Week

 

 Dear Friends,

 

What is the most famous Jewish prayer? If you guessed it's Shema Yisroel Hashem Elokeinu Hashem Echad… Listen Israel, G‑d is our L‑rd, G‑d is One. (Deut. 6:4) then you are correct!

These words, a highlight of our daily prayers, express powerful pearls of faith. But I didn't expect to read them in a timeless best-selling classic.

In the famous book Man's Search for Meaning (so famous that the Library of Congress listed it as one of the 10 most influential books in the United States), Dr. Viktor Frankl describes his experiences in the Nazi concentration camps.

 

Shortly after arriving at Auschwitz, Frankl was stripped of his most precious possession—a manuscript that was his life's work, hidden in his coat pocket. He then had “perhaps his deepest experience in the concentration camps.”

“I had to undergo and overcome the loss of my mental child. And now it seemed as if nothing and no one would survive me; neither a physical nor a mental child of my own. So I found myself confronted with the question whether under such circumstances my life was ultimately void of meaning.

“An answer to this question with which I was wrestling so passionately was already in store for me…This was the case when I had to surrender my clothes and in turn inherited the worn-out rags of an inmate who had already been sent to the gas chamber…Instead of the many pages of my manuscript, I found in a pocket of the newly acquired coat one single page torn out of a Hebrew prayer book, containing the most important Jewish prayer, Shema Yisroel.

“How should I have interpreted such a ‘coincidence’ other than as a challenge to live my thoughts instead of merely putting them on paper?”

 

Why has the Shema Yisroel prayer inspired so many through the most trying times?

Aside from its simple assertion of belief, Chana Weisberg writes that there are four key psychological elements:

1) Relevance: Listen, Israel—Religion cannot start and end with theories; it must address our humanness. The Shema does not begin with a depersonalized statement of faith. It addresses each one of us. Listen, Israel, listen to this message, and make it a part of your being

2) Belonging: The Shema is in plural ("our G‑d" and not "my G‑d"), spoken to a collective group. We gain strength from one another and fortitude from being a part of something greater than ourselves. That sense of community is one of our strongest assets.

3) Personalization: G‑d is our G‑d. G‑d, who is transcendental and infinite, is also our personal G‑d, holding us in times of celebration and despair. G‑d is not just an objective ruler, creating and regulating the cosmos. He is "ours," near us, understanding the deepest part of us, more than we do.

4) Individuality: As much as we need a sense of belonging and community, we must not negate our individual differences. The Shema ends with the words "G‑d is one" (rather than G‑d is "singular" or "alone"). One, the first of the numbers, teaches that G‑d is present within the diversity of the world. While conformity stunts growth, the "oneness of G‑d" should empower us to discover and cultivate the G‑dly oneness and uniqueness within each of us.

Remember to say the Shema in the morning and the night to keep that connection going for all the above.

 

Good Shabbos/Shabbat Shalom,

Rabbi Yitzi Hein

 

 

Jewish Thought of the Week - Devarim 8/9/2024

  
Dear Friends,
 
In the 1950s, when the Western world was paranoid about the threat posed by Soviet expansionism, and politicians of all other shades were warning about the reds hiding under our beds, there was much fear-mongering about the dangers posed by subliminal advertising.
 
The theory was that the Commies would subvert television executives into allowing them to broadcast coded messages, flashing onto our screens too quickly for conscious perception to integrate, which would register on the viewers at a subconscious, decision-making level.
I’m not sure about the science behind the theory, nor whether advertisers are currently exploiting the hypothesis to sell stuff to the masses, but a similar concept will be operating on Jews all over the world this Shabbat.
Next week Monday Night-Tuesday is Tisha B’Av, a 25-hour fast in commemoration of all the tragedies that have befallen our nation over our long and torturous history.
 
The Shabbat before Tisha B’Av is referred to as Shabbat Chazon, “Shabbat of the Vision.” It is so named after the first words of this week’s haftorah (reading from the prophets), which begins, “Chazon Yeshayahu . . .”—“The vision of the prophet Isaiah . . .”
 
Another justification for the week being referred to as the “Shabbat of the Vision” is that on this special day we are all granted a vision of the promised third Temple.
 
An often-repeated parable has a favored child being presented with a gorgeous suit by his proud father. The spoiled child ruins it, whereupon his forgiving father gives him another suit, this one even more splendid than the first.
 
When the kid rips this second suit, his father finally recognizes his son’s lack of maturity and decides not to repeat the mistake. He commissions a third suit, but this time holds back from presenting his son with the prize, preferring to safeguard the garment in his own closet.
 
Once in a while, in an attempt to encourage his son to reform, the father shows his beloved the suit waiting for him, and begs him to demonstrate the necessary maturity to deserve the gift.
 
The child in the story is analogous to the Jewish nation, while the father represents G‑d. We once had a beautiful Temple in Jerusalem, the envy of all our neighbors. Unfortunately, due to our sins, this First Temple was destroyed and, after a short period of exile, another Temple was built on the original site.
 
When our behavior caused us to lose the Second Temple, G‑d decided not to immediately replace the Temple, but to rebuild it in heaven, in readiness for our redemption.
 
As a preparation for Tisha B’Av, the anniversary of both Temples’ destruction, we are shown a vision of the third Temple, in the hope that the prize dangled before us will inspire us to return to G‑d.
 
I must confess that not once have I, in my conscious experience, been worthy to perceive this vision. Every year, the Shabbat before Tisha B’Av, I remember this parable and wonder: what is the use of a vision from G‑d if I don’t see it? I'm positive there is nothing wrong with the source of the transmission, but evidently I’m not tuned to the right spiritual frequency.
 
I don't know if the communists or Madison Avenue ever perfected the art of subliminal suggestion, but I am sure that G‑d has the requisite skills to pull it off. The fact that I don’t merit to knowingly recognize and be inspired by this annual vision is my loss. Nonetheless, the vision emanates from G‑d, and somehow, subtly, subconsciously, even I pick up on the promise of redemption that awaits, and on a subconscious level respond to the suggestion to change.
 
We are all familiar with the occasional spirit of discontent that appears out of nowhere and prods us to change. The next time it strikes, don’t just roll over to the other side and wait for it to go away, but rather recognize it for what it is—a subliminal suggestion from G‑d—and resolve to wake up to yourself and live up to your responsibilities.
 
Shabbat Shalom,
Rabbi Yitzi Hein
 

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Thought of the Week

 

I was prepping for our last JLI class of the course "To Be a Jew in the Free World"  when I stumbled on a new definition of the phrase 'finding meaning'.

For those who know me and my delight in English words and idioms, finding a deeper insight into an overused and murky phrase got my attention.


Here is the working definition of 'finding meaning' I discovered: finding something that helps you connect all or many dots in your life.


What do you think about that? Agree? Disagree?

I like it because it takes the idea of purpose and cause-greater-than-oneself and personalizes it. It marries big overarching life ideas/frameworks with the details of one's own life journey.


One of this week's Torah portions (it is a double header) is actually called 'Journeys' or in the Hebrew "Masei" taken from the Parsha's opening verse

"These are the journeys of the children of Israel who left the land of Egypt in their legions, under the charge of Moses and Aaron". The Torah then goes on to list all of the forty-two Israelites' journeys from Egypt until reaching the Promised Land over 40 years.

exodus from Egypt is its birth as a nation and an allegory for every individual birth, the liberation of the fetus from the confines of the womb into the freedom of the outside world, where it can develop and become independent. The final journey is to the spiritual Promised Land, the afterlife that awaits us after death. The rest of the intervening journeys make up what we call life.


Israelite's trek through the desert, we have to acknowledge that many were setbacks (to say the least). But what is fascinating is that every journey in its spiritual origin and in its transformative potential is holy and positive, even the setbacks. We have free choice of what to make of any journey we encounter in life.

With my new-found definition of 'finding meaning', that type of dot-connecting philosophy can help us survive and even thrive at every station in life.

I must say that I am not there yet with a completely integrated philosophy of life.  But I do have an overarching system that I constantly improve upon. And I do know from my experience that Judaism and Jewish Spirituality, particularly Chassidic philosophy, have those tools. When Jewish spirituality is taught by good, real teachers with a command of modern language and a grasp of life, it helps us trek onward in our own 42 journeys of life.

Want some of my recommendations for some of those tools and teachers? Email me at [email protected] and I am happy to share some articles and podcasts that have helped me.

Wishing you a good Shabbos/Shabbat Shalom,

Rabbi Yitzi Hein 

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