Rabbis Can Run 2024

This year at RCR (Rabbis Can Run), I had the privilege of being a coach to other runners. Though I was supposed to be a player-coach, participating in the run as well, I had gotten injured a month earlier and couldn’t run.

I wasn’t that excited to go to RCR this year, and I was getting bummed out reading the RCR chat. Each person pushed themselves beyond their limits to be consistent about their runs, stretches, and eating Routines, and there I was, no running, no stretching, and no pushing beyond any limits.

But Coach K insisted that I come, and so I did. And I was glad that I did. The first day of the event was conferences of different speakers, some online, some in person. Super informative, and tremendously helpful. Connecting to others, new and old is a must, and if you have a chance to get to a conference of like-minded people, just do it. The camaraderie really rejuvenates a person and gives you renewed strength.

At the newly upgraded position of Coach, I was given the opportunity to ride around on an electric bike to check in on each runner. For some, I’d give them ice, a Gatorade, or check on whatever they needed. I also set out to encourage them to continue to push forward and cheer them on. One rabbi was running a half marathon for the first time, and at about the nine-mile mark he was hitting what’s known as the “runner’s wall”. It’s that moment when all of your energy is zapped from you and you just don’t have the energy to continue. I asked him how he was doing, and he said “I’m hitting the wall”. So I got off my bike and talked him through it, while running alongside him for a tenth of a mile. That got him through it, and he pushed himself all the way through until the end.
After the race, everyone heads back to shower and finish up with the Runner’s Siyum, and event where we celebrate our accomplishments. Similar to a learning siyum, the runner’s siyum recognizes the accomplishments one makes, and celebrates with physical joy, such as a fancy steak dinner (I had the fish). In anything you do, if you accomplish something big, make a siyum. The siyum is a fight against the Yetzer hara. The yetzer hara tells you “Ah it was no biggie. You didn’t accomplish much”. By downplaying accomplishments, you lose motivation and don’t push yourself anymore. You just give up. Making a siyum makes a statement, “What I did was great and I will continue to do more!”
Yet again, it was a great experience. And who knew that it would be considered an upgrade to move to Coach?!
Please consider donating to the RabbisCanRun program, you’ll be helping rabbis like myself make serious positive changes to their health.
You can donate here:

What Can We Do? (Part 3)

What Can I Do After We Are Hit With Such Terrible Tragedy? (Part 3)

Areas of Improvement

Let’s first review some of the areas that were sent in the last blogs. In case you missed the last blog, I’ll post the ideas in full.

In the first blog of improvement we discussed:

The Spirituality of Shabbos – keeping it and keeping it better

Physical – the efforts we can do to purify what our eyes see

In the last blog:

Emotional – We must learn to feel the pain of others. We all have different emotional needs.

  • Take 3 minutes a day, put it in your calendar – to think about the pain that the families who lost their relatives are going through. Think about the injured and the captured.
  • For some it may be too difficult to spend time on it – as it causes anxiety and worry. For you, say Tehillim for those three minutes.
  • For others, they may not be able to connect to the pain of those families, because they’ve never experienced it personally. For you, imagine any pain you’ve been through, and what you wish others would say to you during that pain. Speak those words aloud to those families, even if no one is around you.
  • Call someone who is alone to simply say hello.
  • Some people are feeling vulnerable at this time, worried what will be next, for the Jewish people, and more specifically for themselves. Call someone to tell them how you feel. Or write it down on a piece of paper. Then say a chapter of Tehillim (chapter 20).
  • Change your focus on other people, away from yourself.
  • Then force yourself to smile for 1 minute. Do it in front of a mirror.

Physical – Business Dealings and Phone Usage

  • In business – avoid cheating or stealing from others.
  • Work harder to ensure you’re not swindling others.
  • At home/business – pay your workers on time.
  • In Shul – put your phone away. Being on our phones demoralizes the entire prayer service for everyone. Everyone’s prayers are affected, even if you’re just browsing or checking something quietly.
  • Take the phone outside. By being on the phone, you’re clearly disconnected from your purpose in shul, don’t disconnect others. Even better, leave the phone in your car.

New Addition for this week:

Modesty in Speech, Action and Dress

  •  Modesty – Modestly is not limited to clothing, it flows through all aspects of our lives. It exists in speech, in action and in thought.
  • It’s understandable that modesty or tznius is a eye-rolling feeling-of-being-judged word. How we get past that is for another time. For now, see if you can take a small step and choose one day to dress more modestly or humbly than before. One day that says, “I can do this for myself, my inner-core, and as a merit for my brothers and sisters on the front lines.”
  • For men, dress more appropriately, wear a head covering, tuck in, and dress like you’re royalty.
  • In action – choose one positive thing that you can do humbly without telling anyone about it. Whether it’s charity, kindness, or something else that creates greater good in the world.
  • In speech – cut out bad words, stop with tasteless jokes, speak humbly about yourself and praise others.

What Can We Do Part 2

We are at two weeks since the horrific experiences for all of Klal Yisrael. Our lives have been changed forever. Last week we suggested a few areas we can improve on. This week, we will add a few more.

Emotional – We all have different emotional needs. We must learn to feel the pain of others.

  • Take 3 minutes a day, put it in your calendar – to think about the pain that the families who lost their relatives are going through. Think about the injured and the captured.
  • For some it may be too difficult to spend time on it – as it causes anxiety and worry. For you, say Tehillim for those three minutes.
  • For others, they may not be able to connect to the pain of those families, because they’ve never experienced it personally. For you, imagine any pain you’ve been through, and what you wish others would say to you during that pain. Speak those words aloud to those families, even if no one is around you.
  • Call someone who is alone to simply say hello.
  • Some people are feeling vulnerable at this time, worried what will be next, for the Jewish people, and more specifically for themselves. Call someone to tell them how you feel. Or write it down on a piece of paper. Then say a chapter of Tehillim (chapter 20).
  • Change your focus on other people, away from yourself.
  • Then force yourself to smile for 1 minute. Do it in front of a mirror.

Physical

  • In business – avoid cheating or stealing from others.
  • Work harder to ensure you’re not swindling others.
  • At home/business – pay your workers on time.
  • In Shul – put your phone away. Being on our phones demoralizes the entire prayer service for everyone. Everyone’s prayers are affected, even if you’re just browsing or checking something quietly.
  • Take the phone outside. By being on the phone, you’re clearly disconnected from your purpose in shul, don’t disconnect others.
  • Even better, leave the phone in your car.

What Can I Do?

What Can I Do After We Are Hit With Such Terrible Tragedy?

We’ve read a lot, watched a lot, and emoted a lot. We’re all shocked, angry and many are even depressed. There is a flood of information coming into our lives right now and we need to gain clarity and composure to deal with the situation as best as we can.

It is wonderful to share the positive news. It is amazing to see how a people that were so divided one week ago are suddenly so beautifully united. This is the Klal Yisrael that we speak about. Like one person with one heart. The outpouring of money, supplies, letters, food and everything else, is so heartwarming. The dancing chayalim, words of chizuk from them, and the rallies for Israel gives us great hope and courage. How great it is to be part of the nation of life and the land of life.

So once this first phase gets a little quieter, we are all going to wonder where we go from here. I would like to suggest a few areas that we can implement in our lives. They are the Spiritual, physical, and emotional. For today, I will share an aspect of Spiritual and Physical

Spiritual

You’ve heard the call for spiritual improvement, aka Shemiras HaMitzvos (keeping Mitzvos). We have fallen into a world of complacency. It’s a natural state of being when things are comfortable and quiet. We have become accepting of our religious mindset, especially when we have like-minded people around us that live the same lifestyle. But what if you decided not to follow your herd, and decided to advance to an area that is a little out of your comfort zone.

  • Shabbos
  • If you don’t keep it yet, start with a Friday night – for a month. Its a small step, but its a consistent step, one month. Cell phones off, set your lights ahead of time. No driving. Have a Shabbos meal together. Sing, appreciate your life and your peacefulness.
  • If you can go up a level, keep the whole Shabbos. But plan for success, not boredom. Many people struggle with keeping Shabbos, because they have nothing to do. Plan your meals. Get some board games, read a book or two. share positive stories. Go around the table praising people. Visit the sick or elderly. Learn Torah in a language you understand, and make it meaningful. Don’t force it down people’s throats. If Torah is so sweet, why would people be so against it, when they aren’t against candy? Package it so it tastes sweet to them. You don’t give your kids broccoli and tell them it’s candy, because it doesn’t work.
  • Already keeping Shabbos? Make it more meaningful, not a day to sleep and discuss politics or how you would handle the war better than anyone else. Plan a learning schedule so you can finish something. Maybe you want to finish reciting Tehillim, a tractate of mishnayos, a sefer in Tanach. Inspire yourself so you can inspire others. Practice better speech on Shabbos. Hold back your tongue and speak cleanly.

 

Physical

  • Purify my Eyes
  • First, the obvious – stop watching horrific pictures and videos. It degrades those that were murdered, and degrades the captives. It also desensitizes you to actually care less. Don’t look at the faces of wicked people. Their evil permeates through their faces, don’t allow that evil to permeate into you.
  • Avoid looking at images/videos that are inappropriate (relating to sexuality) to watch. Do it for one week.
  • If you pass by inappropriate billboards on your walks or drives, take a different route, even if it’s a little longer. If that’s not possible, then on your drives, lower your visor before you get to that block, and on your walks take off your glasses or look towards the ground. Your eyes are the windows to your soul. If you did see something inappropriate, don’t look at it a second time.
  • When the Torah is out for Hagbah, look at the words as best as you can

We are in a world of goodness. Let’s make it better, not just for us, but for the entire world.

Rabbi Nachi Klein

An Idea on Ushpizin

An Idea on Ushpizin

Who and What Are the Ushpizin

“Ushpizin” is Aramaic for “guests,” a reference to the seven supernal guests, “founding fathers” of the Jewish people, who come to visit us in the sukkah, one for each of the seven days of the festival:

  • Day one: Avraham
  • Day two: Yitzchak
  • Day three: Yaakov
  • Day four: Moshe
  • Day five: Aaron
  • Day six: Yosef
  • Day seven: David

Translated into English, the word “ushpizin” loses some of its mystery and otherworldliness. Yet these “guests” are indeed quite mysterious (at least until we learn more about them) and otherworldly (at least until we make them part of ours). We use the Aramaic term because our source of information about these mystical guests is from the Zohar, the fundamental Kabbalistic work written in that mystical language.

Guests

Guests are an important part of the Jewish home all year round—there were even Jews who would never partake of a meal in their own home unless there was at least one guest, preferably a needy wayfarer, with whom to share it—but especially on Shabbos, and even more especially on the Jewish festivals (Pesach, Shavuos, Sukkos, Rosh Hashanah, etc.). On the festivals, there is a special mitzvah (divine commandment), “You shall rejoice on your festival” (Deuteronomy 16:14), and, our sages explain, the only true joy is shared joy. In the words of Maimonides (Mishneh Torah, Laws of the Festivals 6:18): “When one eats and drinks, one must also feed the stranger, the orphan, the widow and other unfortunate paupers. But one who locks the doors of his courtyard, and eat and drinks with his children and wife but does not feed the poor and the embittered soul—this is not the joy of a mitzvah, but the joy of his belly . . .”

If guests are integral to festival joy, they are even more so to Sukkos. Sukkos is the festival of Jewish unity; in fact, the Talmud states that “it is fitting that all Jews should sit in one sukkah.” If this is logistically difficult to arrange, it should, at the very least, be implemented in principle. We cram as many guests as possible into our sukkah, demonstrating that we fully intend to implement the Jewish communal sukkah to the full extent of our ability, each in our own domain.

The Kabbalah of the Ushpizin

And so we come to the ushpizin. As we fill our sukkah with earthly guests, we merit to host seven supernal guests. While all seven ushpizin visit our sukkah on each of the seven nights and days of Sukkos, each supernal “guest” is specifically associated with one of the festival’s seven days, and is the “leading” or dominant ushpiza for that night and day.

The Kabbalists teach that these seven leaders—referred to in our tradition as the “seven shepherds of Israel”—correspond to the seven sefiros, or divine attributes, which categorize G‑d’s relationship with our reality, and which are mirrored in the seven basic components of our character (man having been created “in the image of G‑d”).

As each supernal “guest” graces our sukkah, he empowers us with the particular quality that defines him. This is the deeper reason that they are called the “shepherds of Israel,” for like a shepherd who provides nourishment for his flock, these seven leaders nourish us their spiritual essence: Abraham feeds us love; Isaac, self-discipline; Jacob, harmony and truth; and so on.

And while these seven great souls are our “shepherds” all year round, the seven days of Sukkos are a time when their presence in our lives is more pronounced and revealed. As we enter the “temporary dwelling” of the sukkah, freeing ourselves from the dependence we developed on the material comforts of home and hearth, we are now in a place in which our spiritual self is more revealed and accessible. In this place the ushpizin visit us, empowering us to connect the seven dimensions of our own soul’s “divine image” with its supernal source in the divine sefiros, feeding, nourishing and fortifying our spiritual self for the material year to come.

The seven sefiros, or divine energies, we are fed by the ushpizin are:

First day – Chessed: Avraham – the attribute of “Benevolence” or “ Love”

Second day – Gevurah: Yitzchak – “Restraint” and “Discipline”

Third day – Tiferes: Yaakov – “Beauty,” “Harmony” and “Truth”

Fourth day – Netzach: Moshe – “Victory” and “Endurance”

Fifth day – Hod: Aaron – ”Splendor” and “Humility”

Sixth day – Yesod: Yosef – “Foundation” and “Connection”

Seventh day – Malchus: David – “Sovereignty,” “Receptiveness” and “Leadership”

Chad Gadya

 

by Rabbi Yaakov Asher Sinclair based on Ohr Yesharim in the Haggadah ‘Migdal Ader Hachadash

taken from www.ohr.edu

The seder is over. You are about to settle back into your chair, when suddenly you are roused from your wine-induced reverie by everyone launching into the traditional rendering of Chad Gadya. “What are we doing singing nursery rhymes at a time like this?” – You think to yourself. “Here we all are energetically belting out a song that everyone sings, and no-one has the slightest idea of what it’s got to do with Pesach! Is Chad Gadya no more than what ‘I know an old lady who swallowed a fly’ would have sounded like if Burl Ives had been Jewish? Is it no more than a harmless ditty to amuse the children? Or does Chad Gadya have a secret meaning? A hidden depth of allusion beneath the surface…

Let’s look at the surface a second. Chad Gadya has ten stanzas. 

  1. It goes like this: One kid. One kid. That daddy bought for two zuzim. One kid. One kid. 
  2. And came the cat and ate the kid that daddy bought for two zuzim. One kid. One kid. 
  3. And came the dog and bit the cat that ate the kid etc. 
  4. And came the stick and hit the dog etc. 
  5. And came the fire and burned the stick etc. 
  6. And came the water and doused the fire etc. 
  7. And came the ox and drank the water etc. 
  8. And came the slaughterer and killed the ox etc. 
  9. And came the angel of death and killed the slaughterer etc. 
  10. And came The Holy One Blessed be He and killed the angel of death that killed the slaughterer that killed the ox that drank the water that doused the fire that hit the dog that bit the cat that ate the kid that daddy bought for two zuzim. One kid. One kid. 

The ten stanzas of Chad Gadya correspond to the ten kingdoms that will rule from before the beginning of time until the end of the world. 

  1. They are: Hashem alone before the creation.
  2. The Babylon of Nimrod
  3. Egypt
  4. Yisrael until the destruction of the First Temple
  5. The Babylon of Nebuchadnezar
  6. Persia and Media
  7. Greece and Macedonia
  8. Rome
  9. Mashiach
  10. Hashem alone

“One kid. One kid. That daddy bought for two zuzim. One kid. One kid”

Before the beginning of all things, Hashem reigned alone. His is the first Kingdom. Avraham Avinu is the gadya that ‘Daddy’ (Hashem) ‘bought’ for two zuzim. When you buy something it implies that the money you give is equal the acquisition that you receive. Avraham Avinu is weighed against the two gold zuzim of heaven and earth – the entire creation – because it was Avraham who first recognized his Creator. Avraham thus became both the foundation of creation and its purpose – that man should recognize his Creator.

“And came the cat and ate the kid that daddy bought for two zuzim. One kid. One kid.”

Then came the cat – the shunra. The second kingdom is Babylon. Nimrod’s capital where he built the tower of Babylon was in the valley of ‘shinar’. The motivation for that tower came from a soneh ra – ‘an evil hater’- Nimrod who hated Hashem and his representative on this world Avraham Avinu. Nimrod came and ‘ate’ the gadya – Avraham Avinu. He threw him into the consuming fire of a fiery furnace. When Avraham miraculously emerged, he emerged as a new creation.


“And came the dog and bit the cat that ate the kid etc.”

“As a dog returns to his vomit, so a fool to his folly.” There can be no greater example of a fool returning to his folly than Pharaoh, King of Egypt. Despite all the plagues of Egypt, Pharaoh repeated his mistake over and over again. The calba – the dog – is the symbol of the third kingdom, the kingdom of Egypt which ‘bit’ the cat of Babylon. It overshadowed and outshone the kingdom of Babylon, even though there was never a direct military confrontation. Thus it only ‘bit’ but didn’t ‘eat’.


“And came the stick and hit the dog etc.”

The stick is the staff of Hashem that Moshe used to ‘hit’ the Egyptians. This was the staff that turned into a snake and ate all the staffs of the Egyptian sorcerers. This was the staff that was raised over the Nile and turned it to blood and it was this staff that vanquished the might of Pharaoh. The staff symbolizes the fourth kingdom – the kingdom of Yisrael. Yisrael achieved tranquillity with the building of the first Beis Hamikdash, when the staff – the scepter – of Yehuda held sway. Then came the fire…

“And came the fire and burned the stick etc.”

When the Jewish People turned aside from the Torah and began to sin, a fire was dispatched out of Heaven. A lion of fire appeared to blaze through the Paroches – the curtain that divided the Holy from the Holy of Holies in the Temple. This lion of fire, in terrestrial form, took the shape of the Babylonian kingdom of Nebuchadnezar which ‘burned the staff’ of Yisrael. Nebuchadnezar became the instrument of Heavenly justice to punish TheJewish People. Nebuchadnezar razed Zion. The Temple was burned to the ground and Yisrael was lead into slavery. But fire can be doused by water…

“And came the water and doused the fire etc.”

The sixth kingdom is that of Persia and Media, whose fortunes swelled like the waters of the sea, extinguishing the might of Babylon. “Their voices will roar like the sea.” Said the prophet Yirmiyahu, describing the torrent that was to be Media.

“And came the ox and drank the water etc.”

Taurus the bull is the astrological force appointed by Hashem to steer the fortunes of Greece. In Jewish thought, Greece is associated with spiritual darkness – “And the earth was empty and void and darkness on the face of the deep.” (Bereishis 1:2) The Greeks tried to darken the eyes of the Jewish People, claiming that they had forfeited their unique connection to Hashem as a result of the incident of the golden calf. They said “Write upon the horn of a bull that you have no portion in the G-d of Israel. This bull of Macedonian Greece came and licked up the water that was Media.

“And came the slaughterer and killed the ox etc.”

The bull of Macedonia met its demise at the hands of the slaughterer of Rome. No other nation is stained so red with blood as Rome. Ruled by the warlike planet Mars, the kingdom of Romulus is the spiritual descendent of Esav, who was born covered in a mantle of red hair. Rome stands for the power of the material world. He encapsulates everything physical and ‘this-worldly’. We are still under the sway of Rome in the guise of its current cultural heirs.

“And came the angel of death and killed the slaughterer etc.”

Immediately prior to the coming of Mashiach, there will be a tremendous confusion in the world. Everything will seem to have gone haywire. The natural order will be turned on its head: Age will bow to youth. Ugliness will be trumpeted as beauty, and what is beautiful will be disparaged as unattractive. Barbarism will be lauded as culture. And culture will be dismissed as worthless. The hunger of consumerism and the lust for material wealth will grow more and more, and it will find less and less to satisfy its voracity. Eventually Esav/Rome/Materialism will grow so rapacious that it will become its own angel of death. It will literally consume itself and regurgitate itself back out. But from this decay, the line of David will sprout, like a plant that springs forth from no more than dirt and earth. There will be three wars of confusion, and then the penultimate kingdom will rule – the kingdom of Mashiach.

“And came The Holy One Blessed be He and killed the angel of death that killed the slaughterer that killed the ox that drank the water that doused the fire that hit the dog that bit the cat that ate the kid that daddy bought for two zuzim. One kid. One kid.”

In the final chapter of world history, Hashem will remove the pall of spiritual poison from the world completely. He will take the ‘negative drive’ alias the angel of death, and slaughter it. Then Hashem will wipe the tear from every face, and He will return the Kingship to Himself. The circle will be complete. And then joy and simcha will reign as a mother rejoices over her children.

Chad Gadya. Just an innocuous nursery rhyme to send you off to sleep at the end of the Seder. Just a little nursery rhyme…which just happens to encapsulate the whole panorama of world history from before the beginning of time…

Pass the Bitter Herbs!

“Pass the Bitter Herbs!” by Rabbi Reuven Lauffer

taken from www.ohr.edu

Seder night, such anticipation! It is perhaps the night that is most looked forward to by the children – to be part of the intense preparations that precede it, to feel the sense of urgency as Pesach draws closer and closer and then to come home on Pesach night to be met with a table that is laden with all the unique details that are the Seder Night. The matzot. The bottles of wine. The sparkling crystal. The glistening silver cups. The special Seder plate that is reverently taken out only for Seder Night. The shank bone. The burnt hardboiled egg. The bitter herbs.

Bitter herbs?? What are bitter herbs doing here? Why would anyone want to eat bitter herbs of all things on such a festive and joyous day? It would be understandable if we ate bitter herbs before the saddest day of the year. But why now?

Because without the bitter herbs we would not have a Seder Night.

There is a seemingly simple passage in the Haggadah that we recite on Pesach night that reads, “Therefore, it is our duty to thank, praise, pay tribute, glorify, exalt, honor, bless and acclaim Him who performed all these miracles for our fathers and for us. He brought us forth from slavery to freedom, from grief to joy, from mourning to festivity, from darkness to great light, and from servitude to redemption…”

It sounds innocuous enough – we were in dire straits and G-d saved us. End of story. Apparently not. The Maharal from Prague, one of the greatest Jewish scholars in history, explains that we are not beholden only to thank G-d for what is obviously good – the freedom, the joy, the festivity, the great light, the redemption. That is too simplistic. Rather, we have to thank G-d for everything, the bad and the good! Not five things that we have to acknowledge and express our gratitude to G-d for but ten separate dimensions. Each opposite also requires our attention and each “negative” feature needs to be understood and recognized for what it really is. Why? Because without feeling and living the so-called bad it is not possible to appreciate the good! Without truly experiencing what slavery is it is not possible to plumb the depths of what real freedom entails. Without knowing first-hand what darkness is, there is no way that a person can really be conscious of just how wondrous light is. According to the Maharal it transpires that one of the most important messages of the Seder night is that the “bad” is a prelude to a true understanding of what is good!

There is a cutesy story that Rabbi Nachman from Breslov used to tell over to try and convey that idea. A non-Jew once went to Jewish friend to experience Seder Night. Everything looked exquisite and the smells emanating from kitchen were beyond tantalizing. But the food didn’t seem to materialize. First they began to read (for ages!), then, just as thought they were finally going to eat, each person present was given a large dose of bitter herbs and told to eat it. At that point he got up and left (rather quickly!) terrified at what might be next on the “menu”. The next day he went to complain to his friend about his “maltreatment”. His friend looked at him and, instead of apologizing, he scornfully told him, “You fool! It is only after bitter herbs that the delicious food is served!”

Rabbi Nachman from Breslov used to explain that the Jewish Nation has swallowed an awful lot of “bitter herbs” over the generations – but however much it is, it is all preparation for the most sublime feast in the world!

Rabbi Moshe Feinstein points out a seemingly anomaly in the way that the rabbis decide which is the best choice of vegetable to use for the bitter herbs on Seder Night. The Rabbis list five different possible varieties that can be used and the least desirable choice is actually the most obvious choice – horseradish. And the one that is universally accepted as being the best choice of all is the rather mundane romaine lettuce. Romaine lettuce is not very bitter at all and even after it has been chewed thoroughly it still cannot be compared to horseradish! However Rabbi Feinstein explains that romaine lettuce may start off sweet but the longer it is chewed the more bitter it becomes. And that is why it is the very best kind to use. Very often the onset of something bitter is actually quite sweet and pleasant. It is only as we sink deeper into it that the sweetness wears off and the bitterness is felt. That is what happened to the Jewish People in Egypt. What started off as a pleasant sojourn as exiles waiting to be returned to the Land of Israel turned into something indescribably bitter. Why? Because we stopped acknowledging that G-d placed us in Egypt for a specific reason and we began to imagine that it was a pretty comfortable place to be. The minute that happened the sweetness began to wear off bit by bit until we were left with only the bitter and harsh reality of enslavement.

That is why the bitter herbs play such a central and important part on Seder Night. They are there to let us know that things don’t have to reach a level of bitterness that is untenable as they did in Egypt and as they have done throughout Jewish history. In fact, things do not have to be bitter at all. “All” we have to do is to recognize the messages that G-d is transmitting to us and to live our lives accordingly.

And if we do that, then this year as we sit at the Seder table we can truly savor the delicious sweetness that are the bitter herbs!

The Pesach Relay Race

“The Pesach Relay Race” by Rabbi Yitzchak Botton

taken from www.ohr.edu

“In every generation a person is obligated to see himself as if he had come out of Egypt.” (Pesach Haggada)

The night of Pesach, one of the most festive and well known of the year, memorializes the birth of the Jewish Nation. We drink lots of wine as we tell over, in detail, the age-old story of the exodus from Egypt. Recalling the great miracles and events that were witnessed by over three million people, we are meant to connect with the story in a personal way. In fact, many consider this story as their own.

But can this story which happened so long ago really have anything to do with the Jews of today?

According to Kabbalah the Jewish People, although innumerable, are in truth all individual parts of one general soul. Just as a body, despite being made up of two hundred and forty eight limbs and three hundred and sixty five sinews, is one entity, so too the countless individual souls of Israel are in essence united as one. With this in mind we can gain a deeper understanding of how the story of Egypt affects us.

Let us consider a relay race. When each individual runner is running, he represents all of the runners. If he takes the leading position, all of the future runners share in that position. And if he falls back, they all fall back.

What the Jews accomplished through the harsh Egyptian exile is shared by all of the future generations as well. So although a Jew living today was not actually a slave in Egypt, by virtue of his connection to those that were, he benefits. And in turn, he must also allow those that were in Egypt to benefit from him as well.

How does he do that? When he continues to race forward towards the finish line, he does it for all of the past generations of Jews that lived before him, including those that actually left Egypt. While if he were to quit racing for whatever reason, then all of the generations of Jews that came before him would also be out of the race.

In light of the above we can gain new insight into one’s obligation to see himself as if he went out of Egypt. Since a person living today was obviously never in Egypt, this cannot be taken literally. However, in a deeper sense, if a Jew of today has a connection to the Jews that left Egypt, then, by virtue of that connection, it is as if he went out of Egypt too. As mentioned above, the implied message is that it is also as if I, through my actions, take the Jews that left Egypt with me, affecting them for good or bad depending on what I choose to do.

Now if there was a Pesach Seder in Heaven, so to speak, we could say that their Haggada would read, “We are obligated to see ourselves as if we are experiencing what our descendants are doing in the world today.”

We specifically focus on those who were redeemed from Egypt, because spiritually, if they never left Egypt the burden to escape from there would fall on us. However, through their suffering we were spared from the burden of the Egyptian slavery, and we are therefore indebted to them and must continue to work for their sake, as well as our own, for the future redemption. May it be speedily in our days.

The Four Sons and Devolution

“The Four Sons and Devolution”

Transcribed from the lectures of Rabbi Uziel Milevsky

taken from www.ohr.edu

As any student of Jewish history knows, the Egyptian exile marked only the beginning of Israel’s three-thousand-year odyssey through a never-ending gauntlet of persecution and torture at the hands of one nation after the next. An oft-repeated question, therefore, is why does the commemoration of the Exodus occupy such a central position in the Jewish calendar? Since the Jewish People have been cast from one exile to the next, why is Passover still referred to as “the time of our freedom?” What kind of freedom is this?

The answer is that the miracles of the Exodus which culminated on Passover comprise the prototype of the Jewish People’s ultimate Redemption. In a sense, the miracles which took place in Egypt set a historical precedent which will sooner or later repeat itself. Prior to the Exodus from Egypt, there was no practical indication that Israel would ever be redeemed; perhaps exile would become an integral component of the Jewish psyche for all eternity. With the miracles of Passover, it became clear to all the inhabitants of the earth that the Jewish People were not destined for a permanent state of exile; our identity is thus characterized by a state of redemption. 

Yet more often than not, the Jewish historical cycle has consisted not of a transition from exile to freedom, but rather from exile to exile. This movement of our People from one culture to another has too often proven fatal to large segments of the Jewish Nation, which bears the scars to this very day, as we see from the recurring cycle of Jewish Exile.

THE JEWISH DRIVE TO EXCEL

Typically, when Jews make their entrance into a nation, they tend immediately to feel a tremendous drive to “fit in” and excel in those very same pursuits which the host society considers their own unique specialty. If the locals take pride in their superior business skills, then the first-generation Jewish immigrants strive to become superb businessmen; if the locals take pride in their scientific achievements, then the Jews strive to become superb scientists. The Jews’ innate ambition to excel stems from Israel’s destiny to become a “light unto the nations.” This enormous spiritual potential cannot be suppressed — if it is not channeled towards spiritual endeavors, it manifests itself on the corporeal plane as a consuming ambition to excel in every field of worldly endeavor. Soon, the all-consuming yearning to excel can become so overwhelming that the Jew may be willing to sacrifice anything — including his heritage — in order to attain his goal. In a matter of a few generations, the Jew does indeed excel, but this time, to his detriment, he becomes so well-adjusted to his new culture that he totally assimilates and essentially fades away as a Jew.

Who remains in exile? Only the descendants of those Jews who have resisted the temptation of assimilating and have remained faithful to the Torah. This is the only guarantee of Jewish survival. Those who embraced Torah still have Jewish descendants today; those who shunned it in the past are no longer a part of Israel. 

Let us now analyze the inner workings of each cycle of exile. What type of person immigrates to a new country from the previous locale of exile? As has been explained above, it is a person who adhered to his traditions, since it stands to reason that all those who discarded their heritage assimilated completely and disappeared from the Jewish map.

 

THE GENERATION OF THE CHACHAM

These new immigrants are committed to their heritage. They know what mitzvos are, and how to perform most of them; they can pray in Hebrew, and can study Torah. We could safely refer to this first generation of exiles as the generation of the chacham, the Wise Son. It is for this reason that the author of the Haggadah mentions the Wise Son first — this “Son” is representative of the first immigrants who enter Israel’s latest exile.

THE GENERATION OF THE RASHA

What happens to the children of the chacham, the second generation of the new exile? They are in the greatest danger, for they find themselves walking a tightrope between two very different cultures. It is extremely difficult for them to live in both of these worlds at once. They perceive their parents’ world as old and primitive in comparison to the fast and exciting world in which they have grown up. They are liable to abandon the old ways of their parents and embrace the trappings of the modern world, thinking, “These ancient laws are not for us! ‘What is this service to you?’ It means nothing to me!” This is the generation of the rasha, the Wicked Son. For this reason, the author of the Haggadah lists him as the second son — he represents the second generation of Jews in exile.

THE GENERATION OF THE SIMPLE SON

What becomes of the third generation? The children of the Wicked Son have nothing to rebel against — their parents have left no stone unturned. For the most part, they simply do what their parents tell them. From a religious perspective, the most one can expect from them is to ask, “What is this?” They may have faint memories of their grandfather opening up a Jewish book once in a while, or performing some other mitzvah. Out of curiosity they will ask, “What is this? What is the Torah all about?” This third generation of immigrants is defined as the Simple Son. It is for this reason that the author of the Haggadah lists him as the third of the four sons.

THE LOST GENERATION

If the Simple Son receives a Torah education, he still has a chance. If he does not, then his children will become the generation of the Son Who Does Not Know to Ask. Indeed, what have they to ask? Their father knows next to nothing, their grandfather is the rebel, and they don’t remember their great-grandfather. All they know is that they are Jewish, but they have no inkling of what it means to be a Jew. The Haggadah warns that this fourth generation is the last generation — there is no Fifth Son, for the children of the Son Who Does Not Know to Ask no longer exist from a Jewish perspective. If a Jew knows nothing more than that he is Jewish, his children will not know even that.

Interestingly, people often remark that almost every Jew they know has at least a great-grandfather who was religious. They are correct — it is rare to find a Jew who has been disconnected from his heritage for five generations. This is precisely what the Haggadah teaches.



What’s the Difference?

“What’s the Difference?” by Rav Mendel Weinbach zt”l

taken from www.ohr.edu (Questions to Think About Before Pesach)

“Why is this night different from all other nights?”

This is the classical introduction to the “four questions” which children traditionally ask their fathers at the Pesach Seder.

These questions focus on the differences in the menu and the manner of consumption. Their purpose is to invite a response about the significance of the Exodus, which is in a sense being relived by every Jew through the recital of the Haggadah.

In anticipation of this experience we might gain an important perspective by asking ourselves another question:

“What difference does it make that there was an Exodus and how it took place?”

The answer to this question is given at the very beginning of the Haggadah’s introductory response to the aforementioned “Four Questions”:

“Had the Holy One, Blessed be He, not taken our ancestors out of Egypt, then we and our children and grandchildren would still be enslaved to Pharaoh in Egypt.”

Here, even before we begin to actually tell the story of our miraculous liberation from bondage, we must ask some questions which this introduction inspires:

“Is it possible that one nation could be enslaved to another for thousands of years? Would we not have eventually achieved freedom like all other people in history?”

The answer to these questions lies in a deeper understanding of what “enslavement to Pharaoh” means. Egyptian bondage was much more than forced, backbreaking labor. It was exposure to the most corrupt culture in human history. Pharaohs may come and go, but the spiritual corruption they represent emerges in every generation to enslave the souls of their subjects.

Had the liberation of our ancestors occurred through political or military means, as has been the case in all of history’s freedom movements, we might have thrown off our shackles but remained spiritual slaves to the Egyptian values to which we had become so accustomed. Only by witnessing the ten plagues, which punished the Egyptians measure-for-measure, did we learn the full meaning of the corruption of that culture and thus gain true freedom from the “Egyptianism” which has contaminated mankind throughout history.

This is what the Haggadah and the Pesach Seder are all about – taking the Jews out of Egypt and taking Egypt out of the Jews.