Getting Out of a Routine

In Parshat Yitro we read this week of B’nei Yisrael’s arrival at Har Sinai and the awe-inspiring events of Mattan Torah. This section is introduced with the words,
בחדש השלישי לצאת בני ישראל מארץ מצרים, ביום הזה באו מדבר סיני. שמות יט:א
In the third month after B’nei Yisrael had left Mitzrayim, on this day they came to Midbar Sinai.

Rashi informs us that bayom ha’zeh refers to Rosh Chodesh Sivan, but he questions the usage of the term bayom ha’zeh (on this day), rather than bayom ha’hu (on that day), which would have been more linguistically appropriate. The usage of the term “this day” makes it sound as if B’nei Yisrael came to Midbar Sinai today, when it is really referring to a date long ago. Rashi brings an answer from the Midrash Tanchuma for this question and says that the reason the term “this day” is employed is because the Torah should always be new to us, as if we received it today.

When one learns something for the first time one feels a degree of wonder and excitement that one doesn’t feel when the material is being learnt a second or third time. Rashi is therefore telling us that each time we learn Torah, even if it is just a repetition of something we have learned already, we should try to feel the same degree of excitement as if we were hearing it for the first time.

This is the way I have always understood this Rashi, but recently I have been thinking that perhaps we can understand it slightly differently, as well.

Have you ever gone into the bathroom to brush your teeth, and when you came out you automatically said “Asher Yotzar”? Or bentched after you ate, but did it so automatically that a few minutes later you ask your friend if she saw you bentch, because you can’t remember if you did or not?

When we do something for the first time we pay it more attention, concentrating on what we are doing and making sure we are doing it right. But as time goes on and we get more used to doing it, we think about it less, until it becomes habit. It is good when we get into a routine of making berachot before we eat, but if we do it so automatically that we aren’t sure what we’ve said then it has lost its meaning and become rote.

Perhaps Rashi is telling us here that we should always try to perform mitzvot with the same degree of attention and meaning as the first time we did them.

It is hard to break a habit. When we are so used to doing something it is hard to remember to stop and think about it before we do it. But vacation is the perfect time to work on this concept, because we are getting out of our daily routine, going different places, doing different things. The change of pace might make it easier for us to remember to pause before we rattle off that bracha, think about what it means, and say it as if we were doing it for the first time.

Are we allowed to say that?

I know that the הלכות of מוציא שם רע, רכילות, & לשון הרע can sometimes be subjective (if you're telling a white lie, or trying to spare someone's feelings etc., then we're more מיקל). Is it okay to talk about Person A who hurt your feelings or was not nice to you to Person B, whom you trust, even if Person B won't be able to do anything, but it'll make you feel better to talk about it, even if you'd be bashing Person A in the process of trying to make yourself feel better?

Thanks!

-Anonymous

You’re asking: Is “venting” considered lashon hara?

It’s a great question. The classic sefer on lashon hara is Chafetz Chaim, which became so famous that the rav who wrote it, R. Yisrael Meyer Kagan (1838-1933; he also wrote the Mishnah Berurah), became known as Chafetz Chaim. In Kelal 10, Siman 4, the Chafetz Chaim writes that speaking about someone is allowed – with certain preconditions – le-to’elet – for a purpose, and the purpose can include simply making yourself feel better, such as venting to a friend. Certainly seeking advice from a trusted adult, even if they don’t “do anything” but just advise you on how to deal with a situation, is also le-to’elet. However, the following conditions apply:

1) You need to have firsthand knowledge of whatever Person A did – not just have heard about it from someone else.

2) It is clear that what happened is truly a problem, and not just a miscommunication or misunderstanding

3) Person A should be talked to directly about the situation, if at all possible

4) Make sure, when you tell the story, you are telling it truthfully

5) Telling Person B about the situation is really the best way to make yourself feel better, in a way that say, writing in a diary won’t do

The Chafetz Chaim lists a few other conditions and elaborates if you want to look up the original source. If one has a rabbi to ask questions to (and everyone should), lashon hara is just as legitimate an area for sha’ilos as Shabbos or kashrut.

A final note: In the process of researching this answer I caught myself about to vent to a relative, and then I realized I didn’t meet the conditions! Thank you for reminding me of the necessity to think before I speak.

Have a word-wise vacation!

MLK Day

As with Tu B'Shvat on Thursday, when we have significant dates during midterms or vacation, they are often lost  in the shuffle.  I just found something I posted a year ago on the subject.

This morning on my way in to school, I heard Martin Luther King Jr.'s famous "I have a dream" speech, almost in its entirety.  Aside from how great and powerful a speaker he was, what struck me was that virtually all of his dreams for the future; all of the aspirations for America that he demanded have pretty much been fulfilled, and then some.  All of his fantasies, that at the time must have seemed as absurd as the cell phone or the internet, every last one of them is now so much a part of the American culture, that dissent is (appropriately) not tolerated in polite company.  While bigotry of all kinds (he references Jews and  gentiles joining hands at the end) is not dead in America, I think it is relegated to the fringes of society in a way that would have been virtually unimaginable just a generation ago.

On Rosh Chodesh Iyar, we spoke the idea that I heard from a Rebbe in Israel that אייר stands for אברהם, יצחק, יעקב, רחל, and that while the אבות each have the מידה that they represent, רחל represents the כח החלום.  Today is a day that to continue to learn this lesson of the power of dreams, of seeing slightly beyond what seems realistic.  There is a lesson here for us all when it comes to our own personal growth.  We have spoken before about how we should always try to have personal goals that we strive for.  We can think about these similar to college applications.  First, you want to make sure that you have your "safety school" - so take something that you are currently proud of, and commit yourself to maintaining that level of achievement (I'm davening well, I've been very sensitive to the needs of my friends or family, I have been making strong, mature decisions lately, I learn some Torah lishma, I volunteer my free time to help others etc.).  Next, you have your target schools that you aspire to, here you are looking slightly beyond where you are now, but these are very doable, realistic goals.  This category is the bread and butter of growth, as almost all progress is gradual, and there is nothing to be gained by setting yourself up for failure.  The message that I see in Martin Luther King Day, is to also also have your "reach" school - to set a longer term goal right now seem to be way out of  range, but approach it with a blend of anxious patience.  Both as individuals and societies, people have a tendency to prove predictions wrong, and to be capable of growing far faster than anyone, or almost anyone dreamed we would

The Story Behind Rechov ha-Lamed Heh

Today, the 5th of Shevat, is the anniversary of the massacre of the 35 members of the Palmach who were killed as they made their way on foot to bring much needed ammunition to the Gush Etzion kibbutzim that had been attacked by Arabs 2 days earlier on January 14, 1948.

The group numbered 38 men (many of them young students) when they set out at 11pm from Har-tuv, but one man sprained his ankle and two others were sent back with him to accompany him. The remaining 35 did not have enough time to reach their destination while it was still dark. Towards dawn when they were about an hour away from the Gush bloc they encountered two Arab women gathering firewood (or an Arab shepherd, as legend has it). The Arabs sounded an alarm and alerted others to the presence of Jews in the area. The commander of the 35 decided to keep going forward, hoping that the group would reach safety before any violence broke out.

However, hundreds of Arabs gathered quickly from neighboring villages and attacked. Rather than retreat, the 35 men fought heroically until their last bullet, and when that was spent they threw rocks at the enemy. The last of the 35 was killed at approximately 4:30pm and their bodies were mutilated by the Arabs.

This ambush was the catalyst for public discourse on purity of arms (one of the values of the IDF which states that soldiers should retain their humanity even in warfare, and never harm a non-combatant) which has made the IDF into the most moral and ethical army in the world.

There is a wonderful series of books written for children called Minheret Ha’zman (The Time Tunnel), by Gelilah Ron-Feder. It is similar to the Magic Tree House series in that two children travel backwards in time to visit various points in history; in the case of this series, the history of the State of Israel and other formative events in Jewish history. There are approximately 50 books in the series, including one about the Lamed-Heh. Although the series is written in Hebrew I highly recommend reading it – you can find it in any bookstore in Israel.

The story of the Lamed-Heh is a tragic story that is part of the fabric of the establishment of the State of Israel and has been held up throughout the decades as an example of bravery and heroism. One of the ways that the 35 fighters have been memorialized is in the street name Rechov ha’Lamed Heh which can be found in various communities in Israel.

Thank You Laptop!

In this past Parsha we are all familiar with the famous maamar Chazal that the reason that Aharon performed the first three Makot is because Moshe could not hit the land or water that had saved him in the past.  The curious notion of a requirement of hakarat hatov to inanimate objects has probably launched a thousand sermons.  The most common, and I think most correct message is that we don't thank people because they need it, but because we, the beneficiary of the favor need to express it - an important point to keep in mind when we daven.

Maybe the reason why there is such an extreme emphasis on this midah in the context is because in reality, the person (or institution) that he really owed hakarat hatov to was Paroh and the Egyptian royal family who raised him.  For obvious reasons, he could not give them the appreciation that they would normally have merited.  Therefore, to protect Moshe from being affected or learning the wrong lesson from this experience, Hashem had him go to the other extreme, expressing his thanks even to the and and Nile to maintain the מידה even in the face of his lack of expressed appreciation to the home of his childhood and the heir to his step-grandfather who welcomed him into his palace.

My very wise wife points out that the Paroh - Moshe familial and then political relationship is one that is surprisingly under-explored in traditional Torah commentaries.  I then noted that that same relationship is probably overblown in the Hollywood production of the Ten Commandments (I'm pretty sure that there is no source for Moshe dating Paroh's queen).