whatever you do, don't be proactive!

When you are stuck in mochin d'katnut, (feeblemindedness) act with a rosh katan, (be reactive, not proactive--) just stick to Torah and mitzwoth until HaShem illuminates the way.

Otherwise you might fall into "trying to figure things out" mode (ie. initially mild depression) when your brain is barely functioning, and you will only spiral down from there.

This thought brought me to a chidush: 

The Mei Shiloah (parashath Balak) explains that a Jew has the potential to always know what HaShem wants from him right now. 

Obviously the Jew didn't sit down and 'figure out' what HaShem wants, HaShem's ways of thinking are totally beyond us. So, how does a Jew find out what HaShem wants from him or her right now? We ask Him! We cry out and say: HaShem, I can't possibly do it on my own, help me! Make it clear to me HaShem!!

load balancing

HaShem says: "Better they should abandon Me, than forsake My Torah." (as reported in the Talmud)

The Noam Elimelech makes sense of this surprising turn of phrase: A Tzaddik wants nothing more than to be totally negated in the divine presence, totally united with HaShem. Sometimes though, in order to relate to the world, the Tzaddik needs to let go of HaShem, turn away from the blinding light of HaShem's infinite nature, and focus on the world, in order to perform mitzwoth, which are after all HaShem's Will. HaShem's quote is then understood like so: "In order to keep My Torah, [My mitzwoth] they need to turn away from Me [temporarily.]"

brit shalom

The Tanya (very end of ch. 12) quotes the Zohar teaching how to interact with a fellow Jew: If your yetzer hara encourages you to hate, despise, or be jealous of a fellow Jew, you should do the opposite. Take a lesson from Yosef and invest even more love and warmth in your relationship with them. Just as Yosef treated his brothers with love, despite everything that befell him because of their sentiments and actions, so too we should add love and warmth rather than revenge or hate.

In other sources, (one being Devarim She'b'Kedusha 5:6) seeking out peace is inherently connected to the guarding the Brit Milah, which is the attribute of the Tzaddik, of which Yosef is the archetype. 

These teachings came to my attention just as I wanted to draw the same parallel based on my realization that Yosef's relationship with his father exemplifies our ideal relationship with HaShem (our father, as He calls us His first born child)  and Yosef's relationship with his brothers exemplifies our ideal relationship with our fellow Jew.

shabbat outed

Why does Masechet (tractate) Shabbath (2a) start with the melachah of hotza'ah, (carrying things from one domain to another) and why does it use the term yitzi'ot, not hotza'ot? Rashi and Tosfot both discuss parts of this question, but something else occurred to me, from a different perspective: 

Shabbath, as the seventh day of the week is intimately related to the sefirah of Malchut, Kingship. This is evidenced by the fact that Shabbat is our testimony to the fact the HaShem not only created the world, but presides over it constantly. How do we do this? We refrain from any and all "productive" action (read: melachah) on Shabbath. In this way we acknowledge that HaShem is still running the show, and we can relax and enjoy in comfort, entirely trusting to HaShem that if we take a day off, we won't suffer any loss.

As we know also, the sefirah of Malchut represents the mouth, speech, and the creation of the world, to which we are testifying through guarding the Shabbath, took place through ten acts of speech. It is for this reason, to allude to the deepest essence of Shabbath, that Masechet Shabbath starts with "Yitzi'ot" Shabbath. The utterances of Shabbat.

exile of the willing

The Ohr HaHayyim explains that, in the beginning of Shemot, HaShem counts Yaakov Avinu's descendants (a second time) to show that each one of them approved of going into exile. Just as Avraham accepted the necesity for exile when HaShem explained it to him, so too Yaakov's children and grandchildren recognized the need for the exile, and accepted it upon themselves. 

That's a really novel take on the exile. We welcomed and accepted it, aware of what spiritual benefits would eventually come of it: Most notably the reception of the Torah.

I had always wondered why it was that once they buried Yaakov Avinu they had returned to Egypt. Couldn't they have just moved back? The famine was over? I always looked at this as an example of exile-based Judaism today -- they have the state of Israel, and still they'd rather live in Florida.

Yes, there are many explanations of why the exile is so important, (to redeem all the souls, the sparks of holiness that were scattered throughout the world during its creation, for one) but I've never really thought about a national exile of choice. 

This is at the heart of the Israel crises. We all want to be back in Israel, reunited as one people, but have we finished what we went into exile to do? This is the uncertainty, this is the divide.

shabbat healing

Why does Masechet Shabbat start with the melachah of Hotza'ah, the last of the 39 melachot? (I know we've already asked this but there's a different more historical/practical aspect that I'd like to look at a little as well.)

The answer is a very simple one: There is a deep historical connection between the Jewish people, hotza'ah, and keeping the Shabbath. [see: a taste of shabbath] 

When I wrote that post I said this: 

It seems to me the two stories are very connected, and it actually makes plain to us how thoroughly connected the mitzwah prohibiting tiltul (carrying without an eiruv) on Shabbath is. From this one simple Rabbinic enactment entire communities of Am Yisrael have grown to complete Shabbath observance.

Well, back then I'd never learned the opening mishnah of Masechet Shabbath. On learning that mishnah, it's now clear why Masechet Shabbath starts with this issue.

the postmodernist and the hassid

I only just realized that that is the correct translation of the title of Rebbe Nachman's story which is normally translated as: the Sophisticate and the Simpleton. [see it online here] [purchase audio book here] [purchase hardcopy here] (full disclosure: I in no way benefit from any purchases you do or don't make -- except for any merit I get in that I pointed out a source you will enjoy to learn from.)

For a long time I've maintained that Hassidut is the answer to Post Modernism, but for some reason I never clicked on the fact that this story embodies the answer itself.

remembering how to be a soul

It takes the soul an entire year after one dies until it remembers what it is like to be just a soul without a body. (So explains Rav Avraham Azulai) It's had so many years to get used to living in a body, it's a tremendous and sudden trauma when the soul has to fend for itself once again. A soul in such a predicament is compared to a baby bird that has to learn how to fly.

It's always interesting to gain a different perspective on life, but this is pretty far out there. How do we bring it home a little? There's a great little bit of life experience that can give us a really good feel for the smallest taste of what the soul might have to go through: 

Ever drive a rental car? Or someone else's car after driving your own car for a couple of years? Doesn't it feel weird? It's got a steering wheel, a gas and break pedal, a gearbox, etc. Yet it still feels uncomfortably different, totally awkward. Even just trying to park a different car feels weird, somehow just not right. Now, when you get back into your car, it's like..ahhh, now this is the way things are supposed to be.

Imagine your soul trying to walk around, or eat something without a body.. That's gotta be tough.

I don't even understand myself

Today I heard someone saying that. "I don't even understand myself." I think a lot of people feel that way, and it's a frustrating feeling.

When Rebbe Nachman discusses his disfavor with philosophy he explains it like so: Philosophers take a question and its answer and then rephrase them collectively in the form of a question, which then has no answer, because the answer is already part of the question.

Part of the reason I think most people don't understand themselves is because just like a philosophical question, (as defined by Rebbe Nachman) a person is a combination of two opposites whose union defies explanation.

A person has many parts, overall we can categorize them into three: a body, an animal soul, and a Godly soul. As long as a person looks at these three parts and assumes they are one part, it's impossible to make sense out of all the contradictory elements of the human condition.

The best place, I think, to begin to understand the structure of a person is to learn the first twelve or so chapters of the Tanya; the manual for self-awareness and fulfillment written by Rebbe Shneur Zalman of Liadi, the first Lubavitcher Rebbe.

does my father yet live?

When we converse, are we talking to the body or the soul? The Baal Shem Tov says the answer is simple: The soul. If we were talking to the body, then we would still carry on conversations with a dead person. [Or even a sleeping person for that matter.]

It seems to me that the reunion that took place between Yosef and Yaakov his father, is the perfect metaphor with which to illustrate true prayer. Yosef playing the part of the person praying, and Yaakov the part of HaShem, the father who has been waiting long years to hear news of his favorite son.

Both are asking: Is it true that my father/son is still alive? As illustrated by the inverse of the Baal Shem Tov's lesson above, if we aren't communicating it could be mistaken as a sign of lifelessness. When we truly reconnect with HaShem through our prayers, we're beside ecstatic to find our father still alive and He is overjoyed to find His son still lives.

That pure joy, that wonderous disbelief, is what true prayer is meant to feel like.

Now imagine feeling that feeling three times every day!

deeds of sale

The Talmud teaches that HaShem "casts (as in casting silver) good intentions as [good] deeds." It's an interesting idea, and a comforting one -- in opposition to the common saying, "the road to hell is paved with good intentions." To know that even if you don't get it quite right, HaShem still gives you extra credit for a good try helps me get to sleep at night. In fact, I like to take the statement very literally and chalk up credit for all those good things I wish I had the time to do but don't. (provided that I'm honest with myself and keep busy doing good things)

Anyways, I wanted to offer the suggestion that the Chumash (the five books of Moshe) offers support for this idea but rather than it being something hypothetical, it has a very down to earth meaning: 

The selling of Yosef. Why did the brothers sell Yosef? According to the explanations of our Rabbis, collectively Chazal, they were trying to purify the Jewish people of a potentially corrupting influence. Just as Esav and Yishmael had been weeded out of our genepool early on, the brothers mistakenly thought Yosef, who was sewing strife, also had to go.

We all know the outcome of the story: Yosef is sold down to Egypt, where he becomes second-in-command to Pharoah and, in practice, rules over the entire land of Egypt. The upshot being that when the whole world is soon struck by a famine of biblical proportions, (pun intended)  Yaakov and his descendants are provided for by their long lost son and brother, Yosef.

In this story we see a clear representation of an action, taken for the best of reasons, bringing about a positive result. 

The important part of the story to note is that even though the brothers themselves regretted their actions and thought they had caused no end of damage, in reality, because they went into the initial action with good intentions, HaShem made the end result itself good. This is the true meaning of "HaShem casts good intentions as [good] deeds."

We have to learn from this too: Even when something blows up in our face, and we have no recourse, no way to understand what to do now or how to put the pieces back together, we need to have faith in HaShem: We went into it with good intentions, let's wait and see how this is going to turn out for my good as well as the good of everyone else. 

How many times have we heard stories of small or large setbacks that lead to sudden miraculous salvations? How many times has research gone awry only to deliver some amazing new discovery? You could say, still those times are the exception, not the rule..  but how many more situations could have been new beginnings had we been open to the possibility?

Another important point, while addressing the story of Yosef's sale is Yosef's own response to all this: The Ohr HaHayyim (R' Hayyim ibn Attar) explains that Yosef tells his brothers: "Even at the time of the sale, you were still my brothers in my eyes." Even in the midst of the troubles that befell Yosef, he always looked to the good that would come of it--he knew he would be reunited with his brothers and he didn't let their current actions get in the way of the deep bond he had with them. 

This is something we can all learn from: Sometimes people we love act stupidly or selfishly, more often their actions seem stupid and/or selfish until we arrive at their point of view and understand the logic, often even benevolent intentions, previously masked by our own ignorance. 

First: give your loved ones the benefit of the doubt, assume they don't mean to be hurtful or even if they do, assume that they are so hurt themselves that they can't even think clearly right now. 

Second: If you don't let go of your love for them, in the end they'll come around, all wounds can be healed.

So we see how these two forces, the power of good intentions and the steadfast commitment of love can turn the worst most ruinous moments of a relationship into the deepest sweetest miracles of life.

[There will always be skeptics and pesimists, but they live life alone -- that's the answer to the question presented at the beginning of Plato's Republic.]