Monday, November 1, 2010

Speaking of Priorities...

 Tali Spier submits the following thought:
Ever wonder what would happen if we treated Torah as we treat our cell phone?
What if we carried it around in our purses or pockets?
What if we flipped through it several time a day?
What if we turned back to go get it if we forgot it?
What if we used it to receive messages from the text?
What if we treated it as if we couldn't live without it?
What if we gave it to Kids as gifts?
What if we used it when we traveled?
What if we used it in case of emergency?
This is something to make you go....hmm...just where is my Torah today?
Oh, and one more thing.
Unlike our cell  phone, we don't have to worry about Torah being
disconnected because its calls never fail.
Makes you stop and think 'where are my priorities? And no dropped calls!

Thursday, October 28, 2010

Avraham's Daughter

Here, Parshablog discusses an interesting non-halachik teshuvah from Rav Moshe Feinstein, where he doubts the authenticity of a quoted statement of the Maharil that Avraham had a daughter named Bakol who died the same day that Sarah did.  I had always (and so did this blogger) figured that it can be explained by removing the small "כ" from "ולבכתה" so the Passuk reads not that Avraham eulogized Sarah and cried for her, but that he eulogized Sarah and her daughter.  He traces this statement to a commentary from the Chatam Sofer (who lived long after the Maharil I think - maybe the CS is explaining him or hadn't seen it, as Rav Moshe hadn't) who explains not that she died the same day, but that he never fully felt the pain of losing his daughter as long as he had his wife to comfort him, which is a far more poignant peshat.  The whole discussion of the daughter who died is consistent with the pattern in the Torah of Avraham losing everyone who matters to him, one by one, (except Sarah) leading up to the עקידה, magnifying the significance of that test.

As an aside, this conversation each year reminds me of a discussion I have had with my wife a few times about my wish to name our daughter Bakol.  She hates the idea, so it's hard to know how serious about it I am, but I think it would be a cool name (Baki for short?).

Hat tip to RJW.

Sunday, October 24, 2010

Incredible Article

Click on the title, or paste this into your browser.
http://online.wsj.com/article/SB10001424052702304510704575562581788927838.html

Sunday, October 17, 2010

Ain't Gonna Work on Saturday

Since one is not supposed to get paid for working on Shabbat, what does a group leader need to do to get paid without violating this halacha?

-Yifat Adler-

Great question.  Realize that this doesn't only apply to group leader, but also to many other people who "work" on Shabbat, like caterers for a kiddush and most strikingly Shul Rabbis.  The rule is that as long as you are being paid for work that you do on weekdays as well, you can halachikally "hang" or allocate all of the money to the non-Shabbat work.  So as long as you do some work for this job that is not on Shabbat (preparing, a single meeting etc.) we consider it as though that is all that you are being paid for, and you are OK.  If not, you should try to do something before Shabbat, even if it's just taking a few minutes to plan what you will do during the groups, and that will suffice.  

Thursday, October 14, 2010

Parsha For the Busy or Attention-Challenged

This is what seems like a new feature on Hirhurim - Rabbi Student gives a one or two paragraph summary of a few insights on the Parsha from a diverse collection of contemporary scholars.  Check it out.

More on Minyan

It's so interesting to me to hear different perspectives on Tefiila b'tzibur vs.davening alone.  Clearly, I don't get the liberty of experimenting and choosing my preference.  I need to daven with a minyan three times a day, and usually do (the only time I can remember feeling proud of my child's ignorance is when the first time I took my son to shul for shacharit during the week he asked me what the tefilin were).  What I have found though on the instances that I have davened b'yichidut is that the experience is polarizing, and my tefilla is either better or worse than usual.  To put it another way, the minyan is the great equalizer.  The structure and crowd usually give me the ability to reach a minimal, baseline focus that I don't always achieve when davening alone (especially on those occasions that you realize that you hadn't davened maariv until you're already in bed).  On the other hand, the minyan pushes me to conform to a certain pace.  It also too often lulls me into a routine that is not conducive to the true communication with Hashem that I'm occasionally able to achieve when standing alone in my living room, the only one in the house still awake when the shuffling of the pages of the siddur seems almost deafening.  

All that said, I think I would have enjoyed Mrs. Cohen's Kabbalat Shabbat.  Moral of the story - if you're looking for a life rich with experiences, head to Israel.

Monday, October 11, 2010

An Individual's Tefillah b'Tzibbur

I’m glad that Mrs. Sinensky raised this topic, because this Shabbos I had an experience that made me reflect on it and I wanted to hear your thoughts about the matter.

Sometimes it is hard to daven properly in shul or other public settings. There are many distractions around, and we might find that our thoughts keep wandering to what is going on around us – what other people are doing or wearing, hearing their whispered conversations, or sometimes starting our own. Or sometimes we might just be self-conscious – “If my friends see me davening with kavana, will they still think I’m cool?”

Sometimes I think it is almost easier to daven on my own, someplace quiet. And yet, we are told that “bi’rov ‘am hadrat melekh”. The King (Hashem) is more glorified the greater the abundance of people.

My family and I spent this past Shabbos at my uncle’s house in Shilo. Friday it rained for the first time this season. Not a lot, but coming only one week after we started saying mashiv ha'ruach made me feel like Hashem is listening to our tefillot.

Because of the rain, the entire yishuv lost power, and since the water supply is also dependent on electricity, there was no water, either. The blackout lasted about 7 hours, and ended as we were finishing our Friday night meal by candlelight. Despite some of the difficulties, the experience was really rather nice.

But what was really special was Friday night davening. The shul was almost pitch black inside. There were a couple of candles lit here and there, but unless you were sitting right next to one the light didn’t help much.

Imagine sitting in almost perfect darkness, not able to see anything in a siddur, not even able to make out the face of the person next to you. And hear, in your mind, 100+ voices singing Kabbalat Shabbat, and it seemed that everyone was singing it with more feeling than usual.

We finished Kabbalat Shabbat, and I was wondering how I was going to daven maariv completely by heart. People started saying boruchu in louder voices, but the rav quieted everyone down and then only the shliach tzibbur could be heard, and he davened everything out loud word by word, including shemoneh esrei, and everyone whispered along with him.

You couldn't see what anyone looked like, or focus on anything distracting. The darkness was isolating, and I felt like each person was alone in a private conversation with Hakadosh Boruch Hu, yet we had the comfort and strength of the whole tzibbur together at the same time.

It was something I have never felt with such intensity before, and it was all because the lights were out. But I was thinking, maybe we each have to try to replicate that to whatever extent we can, when we daven b’tzibbur. Can we try to minimize the distractions that we ourselves cause, and can we try to increase our own focus in davening so that we are at once an individual, in communication with Hashem, yet at the same time a part of the greater tzibbur that gives our tefillot that much more influence.

Friday, October 8, 2010

Davening with others or daven alone?

Rabbi Marc Angel recently published a book of sermons called Know Before Whom You Stand: Thoughts About Prayer. He discusses the concept of davening in a shul—a place of communal worship. He writes, “Public prayer is less self-centered, and unites participants into a community. Even if we do not have a particular need, praying in the collective makes us conscious of the needs of others.” This explanation can also be used to supports davening around other people, even if one is not able to be in a shul.

Thursday, October 7, 2010

Inspiring Words

Here is one of my favorite quotes from the Rav, Rav Soloveitchik:

" ...Most of all I learned from [my mother] that Judaism expresses itself not only in formal compliance with the law but also in a living experience. She taught me that there is a flavor, a scent and warmth to the mitzvot. I learned from her the most important thing in life - to feel the presence of the Almighty and the gentle pressure of His hand resting upon my frail shoulders. Without her teachings, which quite often were transmitted to me in silence, I would have grown up a soulless being, dry and insensitive." ("A Tribute to the Rebbitzen of Talne," Tradition 17:2 [Spring 1978], pp. 76-77)

I am curious to hear your thoughts about how we can achieve this in our own lives. Are there certain experiences that we can try to have, people that we can try to surround ourselves with so that we can accomplish this?

Wrap Up for the Yom Tov Season

  • First, I asked a Rabbi about what this person with the Teshuva dilemma should do - do we pasken like the Chafetz Chaim or Rav Yisrael Salanter?  He seemed to come out like Rav Salanter, and said to tell all of the people that she originally told the מוציא שם רע to that it was wrong, and to ask for general מחילה  from the victim the next time it won't make her assume that there is something specific behind the request.
  • At the Simchat Beit Hashoevah, Allison asked me about the phrase that we add to bentching on Sukkot asking Hashem to rebuild the "סוכת דוד הנופלת" - King David's fallen Sukkah, a strange way of referring to the בית המקדש, and a seemingly unrelated request to the holiday it celebrates.  I'm not sure it fully answers it, but over Yom Tov, Dr. Kook (Leora's Dad) pointed out the following explanation from Rav Amital ZT"L (the former Rosh Yeshiva of Gush who recently passed away), citing the Maharal.    
  The Davidic dynasty is referred to as “sukka,” [even though] royalty in general is referred to as a “house”... because something that has a powerful existence in the world is referred to as a house, which is a permanent structure.  Similarly, a royal dynasty is referred to as a house, because of its strength and permanence....
   But when a house falls, its original essence is negated.  When it is later rebuilt it becomes a totally new house.  That rebuilt house is not referred to as the house that had fallen, for the original house has already been negated.  Rather, it is as if a totally new house has now been built.
   A sukka, though, is not a house, not a complete and permanent structure.  If it falls, it can easily be put up again; if it falls, it is can appropriately be referred to as being reestablished.  It returns to its original essence.
   Thus, the Kingdom of the House of David, always ready to be reestablished after having fallen, is referred to as the Kingdom of “David’s fallen sukka.”  Even after its fall it retains its identity as a “sukka.”  This is because a sukka is always ready to be put back up, and it is easy to do so. (Netzach Yisrael, Chapter 35)
  
   A house’s fall is complete and final, and putting it back up is impossible. A sukka, on the other hand, even though it can easily fall, can be put up again.
  
   This is what typifies Israel and Israel’s kingdom.  A house is stable, and has the ability to withstand nature’s violent storms; but once it falls, it is no longer possible for that house to be put up again.  What is reconstructed is something new.  A sukka, by contrast, isn’t stable; any unusually strong wind will knock it down.  The same is true for the Kingdom of Israel: it is fragile, falls easily, and doesn’t resist storms and shocks.  But it always rises back up and stands on its feet again."
  • The submissions aren't all in yet for this first month, and certainly haven't gone to the judges, but for all of the different, creative and original submissions we've had for the Avodah Sheb'lev contest (see here, here, here, here, and here for some examples), we had never had anyone bake, until yesterday when our freshman halacha class enjoyed Adina Cohen's submission on Tashlich.  Here it is.

Wednesday, September 29, 2010

Simchat Torah and the NY Times

There was a recent article in the NY Times about how most Americans failed a basic test on religion, and were not even able to answer questions about their own faith correctly. Interestingly enough, the group that scored the highest on this religion test were Atheists! The second highest group of scorers were Jews (though 43% of Jews did not know that the Rambam was Jewish). I thought this article was very appropriate to read before Simchat Torah. Simchat Torah is when we celebrate how we have finished reading all of חמישה חומשי תורה and renew our commitment to לימוד תורה . Perhaps this article can prompt us to ask ourselves some questions. How well would we all do on a Jewish religion test? What are our goals in learning Torah and finding out more about our religion (Rav Sa'adia Gaon in Sefer Emunot ve'De'ot explains that it is so that we can make our religion our own, as well as be able to refute those who challenge it)? Are we comfortable with the amount of Torah that we know or do we want to know more? What goals in לימוד תורה do we want to set for ourselves for the upcoming year?

You can link to the article here: http://www.nytimes.com/2010/09/28/us/28religion.html?_r=3&src=mv&ref=homepage

Chag Sameach!

A Teshuva Dilemma for the Last Yom Teshuva of the Season

Today is Hoshana Rabba - the last day of sukkot.  The highlight of the day is the ancient custom, now universally accepted (I think), to complete seven hakafot during hoshanot, as opposed to the single rotation around the Torah that we do on the first 6 days (or five of them, at least), and then recite an extended tefilla on a set of five aravot, and then beat them against the ground.  Warning: davening is very long tomorrow.  Beyond that, there are other minhagim - many congregations read the entire sefer Devarim tonight, many men go to the mikva tomorrow, the chazan wars a kittel and uses the nusach of the Yamim Noraim - many of which reflect the kabbalistic tradition that today is the final sealing of our judgement that began on Rosh Hashana.  Therefore, if you haven't yet said either Tashlich or Kaparot, tomorrow is the final deadline.

In that spirit, recently someone asked me a question that reminded me of a favorite machloket of mine.  She had accidentally been motzi shem ra about someone (said something bad about her to others, that turned out to be untrue).  How, she asked, is she to do teshuva?  Should she tell her victim, currently blissfully ignorant of the entire episode, what she did in order to ask her forgiveness?

The roots of the answer to this question go back at least a hundred years.  When the Chofetz Chaim (the  person) first published the Chofetz Chaim (the sefer on the laws of Lashon Hara), he tried to get a haskama from Rav Yisroel Salanter.  Rav Salanter refused, because in the sefer, it ruled that in our case, the offender may / must tell his victim what he did, and beg forgiveness.  Chas v'shalom said Rav Salanter, just becase you need mechilla doesn't give you the right to cause more pain from the target of your words.

I had always thought that in this machloket, the Chofetz Chaim was the lenient one, and that according to Rav Yisroel Salanter, the sinner is stuck with his aveira, prohibited from seeking the mechilla he needs to complete his teshuva (though both would agree that you could always seek the weaker, generic form of mechilla- asking for forgiveness for all offenses without specifying anything in particular).  In the Rosh Hashana To Go, Rabbi Josh Flug cites this machloket, but he assumes that according to Rav Salanter, you would be able to complete your teshuva without receiving forgiveness from the victim.  It works well with his thesis (עיין שם), but I'm not sure why he makes that assumption.

The person who asked the question was of course fascinated by my discourse, but then stumped me when she asked what she should do practically.  I promised to find out, and I'll let you all know when I do.

Tuesday, September 28, 2010

Simchat Beit Hashoeva Recap

Yasher koach to all of you who joined us last night at our 3rd annual Simchat Beit Hashoeva.  Special thanks to the Kaszovitz family for hosting us, to Sara in particular for her terrific dvar Torah (Tali S. - you were there in spirit), and Talia for bringing out the juniors who started to show the Ma'ayanot world what they're made of (is that enough of a shout out?).  Alumni - you were missed.

And, congrats to the winning team  in our graham cracker kosher sukka building contest - Eliana S., Rivka K., (both remarkably repeat winners!) Chaya K., & Hedva W. (I think - sorry if I missed anyone).

If anyone sends me pictures, I'll post a few here on the blog.

Sunday, September 19, 2010

Sukkah City!

Today, I went with some friends to the "Sukkah City" exhibit at Union Square in the city. "Sukkah City" is an art/architecture exhibit, where on display are the finalists from a competition to build the most unique Sukkah possible.

The Sukkot were all pretty wacky looking but are apparently all kosher and were all built with a rabbi employed to answer any questions the competitors had about the material they were using. My favorite one was a log balanced on 2.5 glass walls (see attached picture), though I don't know how safe I would feel eating under a giant log (though my engineer friends have reassured me that it wouldn't fall).

Anyways, the exhibit is still up until tomorrow night, so I encourage you to brush up on your Mishnayot Sukkah and go if you can. Alternatively, a less artsy - more traditional exhibit of different types of Sukkot can be found all year round in Israel at Neot Kedumim.

http://www.sukkahcity.com/


http://www.neot-kedumim.org.il/public/english/what/holidays/sukkot_exh.htm

Tuesday, September 14, 2010

A Great Story

About the former Sephardic Chief Rabbi of Israel, Rav Mordechai Eliyahu Z"L (from the blog of Rabbi Reuven Spolter, I found it on Hirhurim).  I hope it's true.

When our teacher Rav Eliyahu ob”m was the chief rabbi of Israel, he traveled to France for an official visit. France, as usual, was not with us. As always, she exerted pressure of Israel to abandon sections of Jerusalem and the Land of Israel for the benefit of the Arabs. During that period, the pressure was quite strong.
The visit schedule included a state reception in the presence of French President Jacque Chirac. Before the official reception the Rav had to follow the accepted tour route, including the State Museum which contains cultural treasures of the French people.
During the visit they showed the Rav a throne upon which Napoleon sat. “When did Napoleon live?” the Rav asked. The hosts were embarrassed by the question, and “explained” to the Rav when Napoleon lived. The Rav then asked, “Is the throne of Napoleon for sale?” An awkward silence hung over the room. “No,” the hosts finally answered, “This is a very important item. We don’t sell historic heirlooms.”
They continued the visit and arrived at the section which described the French monarchy. They showed him the room of Louis XIV: “Who was Louis XIV?” the Rav asked. “What did he contribute to the world? Was he ethical?”
“No,” the hosts answered honestly. “The entire monarchy was not that ethical, but this is our history, and we’re proud of it and honored by it.”
At the state reception with the French president before a large crowd, the Rav spoke about his visit in the museum. He told the guests about how embarrassed his hosts felt that a rabbi from Israel would not know who Louis XIV was. After all, these are very important historical figures. “I asked them whether they were ethical people and they hemmed and hawed, but they told me that this is their history, and they’re proud of it.”
The Rav said to the crowd, which included the president of France and some of his cabinet: “You expect me to know and honor French history, despite the fact that I’m not a citizen of France. Am I as an Israel not supposed to know and honor my own history? Do the French not have to honor the Bible which has made such a great contribution to the world? Am I able to not honor the words of Moses that told us not to place the Land of Israel into the hands of strangers? Why must we honor your kings, that lived two or three hundred years ago, but not honor a chain of our own kings that lived long before them?”
The [Israeli] translator from the embassy was not so bold as to translate the Rav’s words exactly. The rebbetzin signaled to the Rav – who wasn’t intimidated by anyone, and stopped in the middle of his talk, and said, “I understand that my translator does not exactly recognize the rabbinic mode of speech. I ask the Chief Rabbi of France to translate my words.”
He had no choice. The Rabbi of France rose to translate the Rav’s talk. The Rav explained that he tried to find out the price of Napoleon’s throne. “I wanted to buy it.” The audience burst out laughing. He explained how they “explained” to him, in all seriousness in the museum that the effects from Napoleon are very important, and not for sale. “These are historical items, and we don’t sell our history.”
“Napoleon lived two hundred years ago,” the Rav answered, “and you respect him and refuse to sell his throne. Now I ask: must we sell Jerusalem, a city that has belonged to the Nation of Israel for 2,800 years?”
The entire audience stood, moved, and began to applaud. Even the President of France stood up, approached the Rav, shook his hand firmly and said to him, “I have never heard words like these.” The French President turned to the invited guests and said to them, “We would like to bestow upon the Rabbi a precious golden medallion that we give only to heads of state. When we arranged this reception we did not think to give it to the rabbi. But the instructive words of Rabbi Eliyahu were a ‘once in a lifetime experience.’ We would like to express our appreciation with this state medallion.”

More Rosh Hashana Reflections

  • Today was the end of a trivia question.  Last year at Chazara Bowl during Color War, one of the questions was, "when do you read the Torah for 5 consecutive days wthout ever saying Hallel?".  The answer, as two of our students knew (Daniella and Avital, right?) was when Rosh Hashana falls out on Thursday and Friday, Tzom Gedalia is observed a day late on Sunday, and we lain on שבת and Monday as usual.  Today was the first day since erev Rosh Hashana that we did not read the Torah.
  • A quick reminder - the סימנים that we eat on Rosh Hashana are not superstitions or magic.  Eating carrots or the head of a fish do not guarantee us a good year, not even dipping the apple in the honey, no matter how loud or clear you make the bracha.  They are simply physical manifestations that concretizes our prayers.  For that reason, I don't even eat most of the foods, but say the same יהי רצון while pointing at them.  The whole matter is a collection of puns and wordplays, from both Hebrew and Yiddish.  In fact, many people have continueed this tradition, adding new simanim with connections to the English.  I have heard of people having raisins and celery (for a raise in salary).  A guest of ours told us of a Rabbi who after his wife had served figs, certain that she remembered that it was one of the simanim prayed that Hashem should "fig-ive and fig-et".  For breakfast, I had my children choose between Life and Honeycombs.  While innovation in matters of Jewish ritual are often controversial, this is an area where I think everyone would support creativity in this area.

Monday, September 13, 2010

Selichot Timing

A timely question from alumna Gabrielle Hiller:

I have a question about the technicalities of Selichot: I see shuls have all different Selichot times, whether 10 PM, 12:45 AM, or before Shacharit. What's the support behind all these opinions and is there a preferred time?

Hi Gabrielle, it was so great to see you and so many of your classmates at the Yom Iyun - your grade continues to leave your mark on the school. 
The best time is at the very end of the night, right before dawn.  Also good is late at night, after חצות (close to 1 am - this is customary for the first night of selichot).  The problem with these, is that they are very hard; it means either going to sleep very late or waking up very early, which leaves you really tired the next day.  Therefore, many people are lenient and say it before their regular minyan in the morning, whenever that is.  Kabbalistically, the absolute worst time to say selichot is at night before chatzot.  Night is a time of harsh דין, and an inopportune time to plead our case for mercy.  Rav Moshe Feinstein allowed this if needed, but the 10:00 pm Selichot is certainly not ideal.

Gmar chatima tova.

Reflections on Rosh Hashana

This Rosh Hashana was an especially meaningful one for me. Our family spent it with cousins in Kiryat Arba, and it was a yom tov like no other. We davened vasikin both days (at 5:40am!), which added a special atmosphere to the already beautiful and moving davening.

Both days we also walked down to Me’arat Hamachpela. Davening in the me’ara on Rosh Hashana, with its focus on Akeidat Yitzchak and zechut avot was very meaningful. We also had a special bonus – during the course of the year the Arabs have use of the hall where the grave markers for Yitzchak and Rivka are, and Jews are not allowed in. On (only) 10-11 days during the year Jews are allowed to enter there, and the first day of Rosh Hashana was one of those days. It has been many years since I was in that part of the me’ara, and davening mincha by the grave marker for Yitzchak held special meaning. (Quick quiz – can you figure out why?)

Rosh Hashana is Yom Ha-din, the day on which Hashem inspects and judges each person like a shepherd inspects each of his flock. Yet although the day is solemn and serious, it is still a chag, and therefore it is also a happy day. Part of this simcha comes from our conviction that if we understand the meaning of the day and use it properly, then Hashem will grant us a favorable outcome.

There is a discussion in the gemara (Megilla 31a) about what portion of the Torah should be read on each of the days of Rosh Hashana. One opinion says that we should read about Hashem remembering Sarah through the birth of Yitzchak and that for the haftorah we should read about Chana and the birth of Sh’muel. Indeed, this is what we do on the first day of yom tov. One reason is that it is because both Sarah and Chana, after many years of infertility, conceived on Rosh Hashana.

But I saw another nice explanation (unfortunately, I don’t remember the name of the sefer in which I saw it, and can’t give proper credit to its author). In selecting these particular topics as the portions of the Torah and haftorah to be read on Rosh Hashana, Chazal were trying to give us a message of hope on this very solemn Yom Ha-din. Yes, Hashem sits in judgment on this day, and we should all be filled with trepidation. But in the midst of our fear we should remember that Hashem is also the G-d of mercy, and we should be filled with hope that just like He answered the tefillot of Sarah and Chana on this day, so too, if our tefillot are sincere enough, we hope and pray that He will answer our tefillot as well, and grant us all a good year.

With wishes for a g’mar chatima tova to all of us and the rest of Klal Yisrael, and a year that is filled with learning, growth, and personal fulfillment.

Tuesday, August 31, 2010

ספר פנים יפות?*

Here is something I found interesting on Rav Aviner's blog (I find that phrase alone very interesting).  It's called the Ten Plagues of Facebook, and lists ten problems with Facebook.  I don't use Facebook, so I can't evaluate his claims all that well, but a lot of people i know and respect (including most of you) are on it, and I have heard some of the positive aspects of it as well.

So what do you think?  Is he being fair?

* The title is a pun - that's not the real quote from Pirke Avot.

We're Back!

Welcome (back?) to the Ma'ayanot Jewish Studies Faculty Blog.  After what turned into a summer vacation, we are back and better than ever, so send all of your questions in to help get us restarted.  A couple of notes:

  • If you sent in a question that hasn't yet been answered, please feel free to resend it as a gentle reminder.
  • Remember that we have activated the comments here, so you are able to respond directly (though not instantly, the comments are reviewed, but not edited, by management before they are posted in their entirety).  Please join in the conversation - don't be shy.