Rabbi Winston: Shlach – “I am G–D, your G–D, Who took you out of the land of Egypt, to give you the land of Canaan, to be your G–D”

 Dedicated in the merit of a speedy refuah shlaimah of Rachel Marnina bas Chaya Spritza, amush.

IT’S QUITE COMPLICATED. From the Torah it seems as if the spies had been great men who failed at a mission they could have successfully completed. They chose to reject Eretz Yisroel, which is why they were punished for it, teaching the rest of us the importance of not speaking badly about G–D’s land, no matter how much you don’t like it.

Kabbalah paints a different picture. Just like souls connect because of what they have in common and repel that which is different from them, they also connect or repel places of residence. According to the Arizal, the level of the souls of the Dor Hamidbar that rejected the land originated from a different source than that which gave rise to Eretz Yisroel. Eretz Yisroel and the Dor Hamidbar was a mismatch. 

What about Yehoshua and Caleiv who did succeed at their mission?That too the Arizal explains, had to do with the uniqueness of their souls, which were more in line with the reality of Eretz Yisroel. Even before they left to spy the land, Yehoshua and Caleiv were at a distinct spiritual advantage over their ten “colleagues,” so why were the latter punished?

Have you ever noticed people tend to gravitate towards some mitzvos more than others? It is not the same for each person. Some people like mitzvos that others have a difficult time with, and vice versa. And the fact that we choose more “likable” mitzvos over others doesn’t bother us because we’re still doing a mitzvah.

If we think about it, such an approach flies in the face of the well-known statement, “According to the effort is the reward” (Pirkei Avos 5:21). Every mitzvah requires some effort, but it is the ones that fail to inspire us that require the most effort, since we have to inspire ourselves to do them. 

What a tikun it is when we do. It’s simple. G–D made all of Creation for man to make free will choices, meaningful free will choices. Choosing between chocolate or vanilla ice cream might be super-meaningful to some people, but not to Heaven. It’s the moral choices that count to G–D, and the greater the moral stakes, the more they count to G–D. Anyone can do a good deed when it costs them nothing. But who will do one when the personal cost is high?

From this perspective, it was the ten spies that rejected the land who had the potential to be the greatest heroes. Yehoshua and Caleiv were the heroes in the end, but only because their co-spies had failed. Had the ten spies battled their yetzer haras and accepted the land, they would have been the greater heroes because of what they would have had to fight against to make their decisions.

This reminds me of what happens when they ask people to learn mishnayos in the merit of someone who has recently passed away. The list goes up and like most people, I look to learn a maseches that “talks” to me. Since I usually see the list after others have already signed up, my choice is usually narrowed down to those that do not talk to me. 

After getting over my initial disappointment I decide to use the situation as an opportunity to choose the one that least talks to me. This feels surprisingly good, because it really makes me feel as if I am learning for the sake of someone else, the whole point.

IF ONLY THE spies had known what was at stake. If only they had anticipated G–D’s response to their kvetching. What ran through their minds when they suffered a horrible death in response? Before G–D responded they had wanted to stone Yehoshua and Caleiv. Once they saw G–D’s reaction to their choice, they must have regretted not listening to the two of them. 

I have wondered the same thing  about the Jews taken away in the Holocaust. History books report that speakers went around from shul to shul in Europe in the 1930s warning Jews to leave before Hitler, ysv”z, came for them. Some not only argued to the contrary. They literally threw the speakers out of shul and probably told them to never come back and make such “ridiculous” threats ever again. Did these people have a chance while being rounded up to wish they had listened instead to the warnings?

It is reported by ArtScroll in their biography about the Chofetz Chaim, that he used to mysteriously bang his table at Seudas Shlishis and cry out, “Millions of Jews are going to die, and no one is doing anything about it!” Why? What? How? These were questions that people must have had at the time that seemingly went unanswered until 1942. 

The Chofetz Chaim had already moved on to the next world by 1933, the very year Adolf Hitler, ysv”z, remarkably became Chancellor of Germany. Did people think that he was the reason for the great sage’s deep concern? It doesn’t seem like it, because even when offered a chance to leave Germany between 1933 and 1939, 100,000 chose to remain, only to later die in the death camps.

When the horror of Kristallnacht happened in 1938, did anyone think is it was the beginning of the Holocaust? Only very few. But by 1945, no one had any question that it was, and those who survived may have wished their foresight had been as good as their hindsight. As the Talmud says: Who is the wise man? The person who sees what is being born (Tamid 32a). 

So true, so true.

Anti-Semitism is rising in the States, Arab driven and leftist supported, even by people in the government. Even the statement used in recent wars, “Israel has the right to defend itself” is lame. The government instead should say, 

“We are appalled at how the Arab population in Israel and Gaza, which has prospered so well because of and often the cost of the Israeli people, has wantonly sent thousands of smuggled-in missiles at Israeli targets and her citizens. It has forced Israel to take undesired and drastic steps just to protect itself. We will not tolerate Arab anti-Semitism, which has always existed but which was ramped up through Nazi collusion in World War II. We made that mistake once back in the 1930s. We will not make that mistake a second time now.”

As one astute Israeli writer pointed out recently, current Arab tactics against the local Jewish population prove, that the long-supported liberal claim that disputed land is at the bottom of Arab anti-Jewish hatred, otherwise. History may have changed, but not Arab dislike of Jews, and they will tell you that themselves, if you ask them. I have.

But when I ask some American Jews about the current situation, and what it would take to convince them it is time to go, investments or no investments, they answer me, it will never get that bad. They’re still focused on prosecuting President Trump and believe that the Biden Administration is not a threat to their future security. But why should they think otherwise if they believe the American media, were never taught the fundamentals of Jewish history, and have little understanding of the dynamics of anti-Semitism?

ONE FUNDAMENTAL OF anti-Semitism is that there is no real logic behind it. Wait, let me change that. It looks to us as if there is no real logic behind it. It will happen for reasons that won’t make sense to us at the time and in ways that will defy our personal experiences. Protection from sources we believe in and trust will not only fall short, they will end up facilitating it, leaving us baffled.

That’s the way it has worked in the past. That’s why we get so confused. That’s why we don’t recognize it until after the fact. That’s why anti-Semitism catches us off guard and defenseless. We try to deal with it logically… “We haven’t done anything bad to warrant such hatred, so it must not be as bad as it seems…Besides, people can only do so much evil against others, so we’ll be okay…And even if some can be really evil, the government will stand up for us and defend us…”

And yet, they have hated us to the point of genocide. 

And yet, they have perpetrated unimaginable evils against us.

And yet, the government did not come to our rescue.

It’s as if some kind of force takes over history and makes things happen against our logic. And it does. We even have a name for it: G–D. Anti-Semitism may be carried out by anti-Semites, but it does not originate with them. It originates with G–D. Anti-Semites are just the “gun” G–D carries when He needs to “shoot” something.

Not just in the Diaspora, as we are finding out here in Israel. We’re on the verge, once again, of having a new government formed as an alliance between those who hate Judaism, and those who hate Jews. As we slowly wake up to this sobering possibility and ask how it is possible, it is high time we realized that it is G–D Who is forming the next government. 

“Enough is enough!” G–D seems to be saying. “If you won’t yearn for redemption while you have it good, you’ll certainly yearn for it when you have it rough!” 

But if you don’t believe in G–D, then none of this will make sense. If you believe in G–D, but not in Torah, then you will focus only on the people acting out history, not the Puppet Master pulling their strings. If you believe in G–D and Torah, but do not take its message to the full distance, then you will try to devise ways to stay politically alive. 

Against a human politician, that can work. 

Against the Divine Politician, that can only fail miserably. 

THE TALMUD SAYS that someone who eats all three Shabbos meals will be spared the travails of Moshiach’s arrival (Shabbos 118a). And yet, it is amazing how many people skip it, or just have a rudimentary meal to be “yotzei.” It’s such an important meal that the halacha warns people to eat less for lunch to make sure they have an appetite for the third meal. It’s that important to G–D.

The basic explanation is that, of the three meals, it is the one most likely to be eaten because of the mitzvah only. Friday nights lend themselves to a scrumptious and upscale meal. So does Shabbos morning after a long dovening. But Seudas Shlishis? It is easily skipped while people digest their usually large lunches and save their appetites for some kind of Motzei Shabbos activity. 

But why does it even make that much of a difference how many meals one eats on Shabbos, as long as a person doesn’t break Shabbos? Is that not declaration enough that G–D made the world in six days and rested on the seventh, and that we do not believe in nature and chance? And why is protection from Chevlei Moshiach the reward, not to mention from the War of Gog and Magog, and the judgment of Gihenom?

Because, the goal of life is to make it “Kodesh L’Hashem—Holy to G–D.” This was on the gold plate that the Kohen Gadol wore on his forehead when he served in the Temple. It reminded him of the high level of holiness he had to maintain while in the Temple, and us of the high level of holiness we’re supposed to maintain while in this world. 

Everything went awry when Adam Harishon ate from the Tree of Knowledge of Good and Evil for his own purpose. We’re supposed to “eat” in this world on whatever level we consume anything as a means to come closer to G–D. Eating a meal on Shabbos is like serving G–D in the Holy of Holies, so-to-speak, so the focus has to be on G–D and our relationship to Him. 

Anything negative that happens to us is to compensate for what we don’t do in this respect. To eat a seudah on Shabbos because you’re hungry is nice, but not the ideal. To eat it as a means to come closer to G–D, for HIS sake, is what life is all about. 

If the spies had gone on their mission with this as their priority, it would have changed the way they viewed their mission, and their land. This is why for Yehoshua and Caleiv it was a must do, going up and taking the land. As the Torah states with perfect clarity, “I am G–D, your G–D, Who took you out of the land of Egypt, to give you the land of Canaan, to be your G–D” (Vayikra 25:38). That is the mission that we’re all on. If G–D is always our final “destination,” then we will have nothing to fear and everything to gain.

Rabbi Winston: Parshas Bamidbar and Shavuos

WE GENERALLY READ Parashas Bamidbar in advance of the holiday of Shavuos. To begin with, Kabbalas Hatorah was a desert experience. We did not receive it in Egypt and we did not receive it in Eretz Canaan. G–D descended upon a mountain in the Sinai desert, and made it bloom like Gan Aiden before He did. Talk about “atmosphere.”

Furthermore, the Talmud says that if a person wants to learn and keep Torah, they must make themselves into a midbar—desert, a symbol of humility. It is ownerless, trampled by anyone who goes there, and produces little of physical significance. Likewise, a person who sincerely wants to learn Torah has to detach themself from the trappings of this world. 

Otherwise, their heart will be divided between the eternal world of Torah and the temporal world of materialism, something many a Torah Jew struggles with especially today.

I have also pointed out in the past that the same letters that spell “midbar” also spell the word “medabehr,” which is someone who speaks. Considering that Onkeles says that receiving a soul gave us the power of speech, and the Talmud says that the entire purpose of life is to speak in Torah (Sanhedrin 99b), this is hardly incidental. The Zohar even says that it is a person’s speech that reveals who they truly are.

Speech is one of those things that is so natural that we tend to take it for granted. Until that is, a person loses the ability to speak, G–D forbid. Taking it for granted makes it very easy to abuse, so that even theoretically “refined” people sometimes resort to foul language to make their point, or to leave their mark. As if this wasn’t bad enough in everyday life, people pay money to watch others speak that way, for no other reason than “entertainment.” It just makes it so much more “lifelike.”

But not if you’re a superhero. Somehow people know that having a superhero use inappropriate language makes them, well, so much less a superhero. And when a more down-to-earth hero seems to accomplish great things without “compensating” with bad words, it seems to make them so much more, well, super. 

Many argue that it has nothing to do with anything real. They claim that someone got the idea a long time ago that what they defined as “inappropriate” language was base, and somehow convinced society of this as well. They believe that people’s distaste for such language, and the people who use it, was nurtured, not “natured.” And they are right, sort of.

A CHILD HAS no problem with filth. They do not feel any need to run and grab a tissue just because their nose is running. They are okay with torn and messy clothing, even in the fanciest of places. This is why when we see adults behave similarly, we think they are immature if they do not have a “mature” excuse to look so unkempt. 

There is something emotionally “cleansing” about being physically clean. We NEED a good shower at the end of a hard day, and we NEED to clean up before eating. Somehow being clean enhances the human experience. I appreciated this even more when watching a cat the other day roll back and forth in a very dusty patch to scratch its back and sides. The cat felt great, but I all of a sudden had a desire for a shower. 

We have a word for it: dignity. This is “the state or quality of being worthy of honor or respect.” We crave honor. We demand respect, first from ourselves and then from others. Somehow being honorable and respectable validates our existence and makes it more meaningful. Though our bodies may buy into the whole “survival of the fittest” thing, there is also something about being human that demands we tweak our definition of survival “fitness.”

This is what children lack, a sense of dignity. A child will not hesitate to do things that we, as adults, may also want to do, but won’t as a matter of self-dignity. And even many who cannot control their childish tendencies will act in a concealed manner, aware of how they will look to others if caught in the act. 

In a sense this is really what “sin” is all about, acting childishly. The Torah emphasizes the need to teach children from a young age how to act in a dignified manner. G–D however does not hold a child responsible for their behavior until Bar or Bas Mitzvah age. That’s when they are supposed to become a “Bar Da’as,” someone capable of recognizing the need to live in a dignified manner.

The fact that undignified behavior makes exciting news shows us that even secular society considers such behavior to be “sinful,” punishable by public shame. In some cases, the punishment is even more severe. The fact that the Torah calls it a “sin” and makes such behavior punishable in one of a few ways, shows us that undignified behavior is actually a sin against our Creator. It reveals that immaturity is not only disgraceful, but a denial of one’s own G–Dliness.

In fact, life could be defined and gaged by where a person is holding on the continuum between immaturity and maturity. The process of “growing up” is one of moving further away from the former while approaching the latter. It is not merely about learning what the right thing is and then doing it. It is about using the “right” thing to bring us to new levels of maturity…of dignity. 

This is the biggest obstacle a person has to receiving Torah, a desire to not grow up. They’ll perform good as much as they have to in order to get by in life, but not more. Children love fun. Adults love pleasure, and though the two can be the same at times they are often not. Fun can often mean a surrender of dignity, if only momentarily. Pleasure often means a surrender of “fun,” and the child inside all of us has a BIG problem with that.

WHEN G–D MADE the animals, it mentioned nothing about any image of G–D, even though they too have a spark of life and do really remarkable things. G–D is the life force within them, but there is nothing G–Dly about them. They belong to G–D, and must be treated respectfully. However they know nothing about dignity and behave as programmed regardless of what others might think about them. 

When man was created, it was a different story: 

And G–D created man in His image; in the image of G–D He created him; male and female He created them. (Bereishis 1:27)

Since G–D is not physical at all, “image” cannot be physical. Since man is physical, “image” cannot be completely spiritual. What’s left? As the Nefesh Hachaim explains, there has to be some aspect of man that is the same as some aspect of G–D. According to the Sforno, it is our power of reason. But according to this verse, that doesn’t sound so positive:

G–D said, “Behold man has become like one of us, having the ability of knowing good and evil, and now, lest he stretch forth his hand and take also from the Tree of Life and eat and live forever…”(Bereishis 3:22)

The answer to these questions came at the end of the previous chapter: 

Now they were both naked, the man and his wife, but they were not ashamed. (Bereishis 2:25) 

They did not know the way of modesty, to distinguish between good and evil. Even though knowledge was granted him to call [all the creatures] names, he was not imbued with the evil inclination until he ate of the tree, and the evil inclination entered into him, and he knew the difference between good and evil. (Rashi)

They weren’t ashamed, but not because they had chosen to live dignified lives. Prior to the sin of eating from the Aitz Hada’as, they had not known how to live any other way but honorably. And it can’t be called living nobly if living nobly is all you are accustomed to do. To be truly noble, once must have the opportunity to live in an undignified way, and then choose dignity instead. 

This is why Adam and Chava had to leave the Garden of Eden. Yes, it was banishment for having sinned. The question is, was that a punishment, or a consequence? If the goal of life is to choose to live a dignified life, the Garden of Eden was not the place for that. The world we live in outside the Garden is. The sin may have activated the yetzer hara and opened the door to sin, but as G–D told Kayin: 

“Is it not so that if you improve, it will be forgiven you? If you do not improve however, sin is lying at the entrance, and to you is its longing, but you can rule over it.” (Bereishis 4:7)

“You,” G–D told Kayin, “can choose dignity over indignity, and in doing so live up to the image of G–D in which you were created.” It would be a mistake to think that G–D was only talking to Kayin. He says the same to each of us every day of our lives.

THIS IS THE Torah’s offer to us. It will say later: 

This day, I call upon the heaven and the earth as witnesses [that I have warned] you: I have set before you life and death, the blessing and the curse. You shall choose life, so that you and your offspring will live… (Devarim 30:19)

Choose life. The words are both profound and obscure. Obviously the Torah is not trying to talk us off a ledge. It is telling us two things. The first is, breathing means you’re only alive. It doesn’t mean you are truly living. The second thing is, living is not something that just happens, only death. Living is a choice you have to make, and make, and keep making the entire time you are alive. 

Obviously the Torah has mitzvos in mind, and even says so in the next verse. But even that is a general statement, which is why so many Jews throughout the ages have turned away from Torah and mitzvos for a more “carefree” life. They chose fun over pleasure because they only understood the one and not the other. They thought the Torah was only interested in making them “good.” They didn’t understand that the Torah was trying to give them dignity.

They did not understand how much dignity mattered to their sense of being, and well-being. They assumed, as so many always have, that dignity is just a nice thing to have, at least every once in a while. They did not know, and therefore could not appreciate, that it is our sense of dignity that allows us to confirm our very existence by making life meaningful. It’s just the way we’re made.

We have moved on too quickly from the Lag B’omer tragedy, especially since many families may never be able to. There were, of course, those who chose the undignified route of looking for blame and where to put it. But if you listen to the stories of the people who were there and witnessed the response of so many to what happened, you hear about just how dignified—G–Dly—humans can be. The tragedy brought this to our national attention, but it is Torah’s call to us everyday. 

The acceptance of Torah? More like the acceptance that we were made in the image of G–D, and that like G–D, we can choose to be noble in spirit and dignified in action. Fortunate is the person who understands this. Great is the person who chooses it as their way of life.

Good Shabbos, and a successful Kabbalas Hatorah.

 

Rabbi Winston: Parashas Emor and Lag Ba'Omer

LAG B’OMER IS finally here, b”H. Four weeks have gone by since the Seder, and we can finally get haircuts and listen to music, perhaps while making huge bonfires and eating barbecued food. Doesn’t sound very kabbalistic for a day that celebrates the revelation of Kabbalah, does it?

Besides mysticism, what is Kabbalah? Why is it so important? IS it so important? Why make a big deal out of the revelation of a level of Torah that most people do not learn and some people still don’t believe in? We don’t celebrate the completion of the Talmud, except by individuals who have completed a section of it. So, why do we celebrate what amounted to the basis of the holy Zohar?

How about a little Kabbalah 101? 

Mysticism is a broad term that seems to imply to most people something supernatural. So when people think about Kabbalah, they imagine people who learn it being able to do supernatural things, somewhat like what the superheroes they are used to watching are able to “do” courtesy of the Special Effects crews of Hollywood. 

What does the word “supernatural” even mean? Obviously it means “above nature,” or beyond it. But, objectively speaking, does nature even exist? Apparently, according to Rebi Chanina ben Dosa in the Talmud, it depends:

Once on a Friday night he (Rebi Chanina) noticed that his daughter was sad and he said to her, “My daughter, why are you sad?” 

She answered, “My oil container got mixed up with my vinegar container and I kindled Shabbos candles with it.” 

He told her, “My daughter, why should this trouble you? He Who had commanded the oil to burn will also command the vinegar to burn!” (Ta’anis 25a) 

It is a principle of Torah that G–D created everything and continues to maintain all of it everyday. It is a principle of Kabbalah that He does this every single moment of the day, every day of the year, and every year of history. Creation is completely a function of the will of G–D and can only exist as long as He wills it. Should G–D take His mind off anything for but a single moment, it will cease to exist completely in that moment.

This was the basis of Rebi Chanina’s answer to his daughter. He was telling her, “Don’t be fooled by the consistency of Creation. The only difference between something being combustible and not being combustible is what G–D decides at the moment.” Hence, the Temple, made from stone, burned as if it was made from wood. When G–D wills it, the usually incombustible burns just as fiercely as the usually combustible. 

In fact, that is perhaps one of the greatest advantages of learning Kabbalah. It is a peek beyond the “veil of nature” that has so many people fooled and limited. Life is not about being able to perform spectacular supernatural feats. It is about learning how to perform spectacular “natural” feats. These can only be accomplished after first understanding how the world actually works, and how we interact with it. That is Kabbalah 101.

THE NEXT THING to understand is that everything exists as function of Divine light. If that makes sense, then think again. It shouldn’t, at least until you have learned some Kabbalah. The temporal world is quite physical. Divine light is completely spiritual. How can the latter result in the former? 

Many scientists simply eliminate the question. They reject the idea of a spiritual world and keep their search for the origin of Creation in the physical realm. The Greeks grappled with it and simply called “Creation Ex Nihilo,” Creation from nothing. Many scientists are also talking about the role of “nothing” in Creation, though they’re not sure just what “nothing” is, other than, well, nothing.

It is not an issue for Kabbalah. We call it “Yaish M’Ayin,” which also literally means “something from nothing.” But here is where Kabbalah parts ways with the rest of the world on the idea. Yes, “ayin” means “nothing,” but not nothing in the everyday sense of the word. In this case, it refers to something very specific, something that is more than the “Theory of Everything.” It is the FACT of everything.

A very important part of learning Kabbalah is the idea of relativity, though not the one Einstein spoke about. His idea of relativity was confined to behavior within the physical world. This version of the idea incorporates everything in Creation, the physical and the spiritual. For example, something spiritual relative to something physical can be as if it doesn’t exist at all.

It’s like someone who is a nobody among higher-ups and the most important person in the room among lower-downs. In this case, certain levels of light are so high up and spiritual that, compared to lights lower down and so much less spiritual, it is if they do not exist. So they, and in particular one level, are called “Ayin.”

Which level is Ayin specifically? 

Imagine a world in which there isn’t one. In other words, nothing but nothing has yet to be created. All that exists is a “reality” of G–D that is so far beyond our ability to grasp, that we don’t even bother trying. It is especially so since trying can alone can result in an incorrect perception, that could easily be called blasphemous. Finite minds are very limited when it comes to understanding the infinite, at least in non-finite terms. It may be easy to call something “endless,” but a lot more difficult to imagine what it “looks” like.

So instead, we admit intellectual defeat by referring to the light in terms of what it isn’t, rather than by what it is. Kabbalah calls it “Ohr Ain Sof,” literally “Light Without End,” but is also quick to point out that even this level of light is not the essence of G–D. Rather the Ohr Ain Sof is but a projection of light on its way to eventually make Creation where it can be revealed somewhat to man, the reason for it all.

This is the entire point of everything G–D has decided to do: revelation. A fundamental of Torah thought is that G–D is perfect and needs nothing. But for reasons known only to Him, but completely to our benefit, He wishes to give good to beings. The greatest good we can enjoy is a revelation of His reality on some level. Everything else that has ever been created, much of which is discussed in elaborate and exquisite detail by Kabbalah, is just to support this Divine mandatet.

TECHNOLOGY HAS REALLY helped us to better explain kabbalistic ideas. Take the idea of an energy surge, which has been known to cause all kinds of damage to electrical wiring and equipment, especially computers. If you make something to be able to handle a certain amount of electricity, and it has to deal with more, then the result can be destructive and even dangerous.

The same thing is true of Divine light. It is not physical light, but it can be far more destructive than anything physical. This is why one has to be careful about their exposure to Divine light, which only becomes more intense from level-to-level. A person may seem to lose their mind from over-exposure, like what occurred to Ben Zoma (Chagigah 14b), but what really happened was an overloading of his mental “circuits.”

For electricity, we developed a system that takes its nature into account in order to “filter” its intensity and make it usable. Friction is used to slow down electrons and weaken their impact, so that by the time they reach our homes and offices, they are safe to use. (But, I found out as child, it is still unwise to stick something into a plug that does not belong in there…unless you like being shocked and sent into recoil.)

Long before we developed copper wire and transformers to manage electrical flows, G–D had created something called “Sefiros” and “Partzufim.” The word “sefirah” usually means “counting,” as in “Sefiras Ha’omer,” the “Counting of the Omer.” This occurs over the 49 days between Pesach and Shavuos, and of which Lag B’omer is the 33rd day. A partzuf is a face, but it is not necessary for now to understand its connection to the sefiros. 

In any case, the sefiros, which are completely spiritual, are the system employed by G–D to deliver His light to Creation on an ongoing basis. They are also the system He uses to regulate that flow, increasing the light, vis-a-vis the sefiros, when and where necessary, and reducing it as per the needs of Creation and history. 

Being so, the sefiros are also the way that G–D allows His light to be revealed to man. Just as physical light can be fractured into all the colors of the spectrum, each with its own name and purpose, the sefiros act as a way to reveal different aspects of the light of G–D, something called “middos—traits.” This way G–D can communicate to man Who He is, or at least how He wants to be known. This makes possible the goal of Creation, a relationship between man and his Creator.

In general, there are 10 sefiros: Keser, or Crown, Chochmah, or Wisdom, Binah, or Understanding, Chesed, or Kindness, Gevurah, or Strength, Tifferes, or Harmony, Netzach, or Dominance, Hod, or Glory, Yesod, or Foundation, and finally, Malchus, or Kingdom. There is even a sefirah called “Da’as—Knowledge,” but that is a discussion for another time. Each sefirah is the “label” and description of the characteristic of G–D’s light on that level. 

THERE ARE 118 known elements in the Periodic Table as of today. It’s a lot, but not that much really when you consider that they are responsible for the zillions of things that exist in the entire universe. How can so few things be responsible for the creation of so much?

We can ask the same question about the sefiros, which G–D has used to create everything and continues to use to maintain all that exists. And at least the elements of the Periodic Table start off being physical. The light that flows through the sefiros is completely spiritual, and yet ends up creating everything, spiritual and physical. How do the sefiros help the light go from ayin to yaish, and to create so much of it?

It’s like water. Water is everywhere, though it is not always visible. For example, the air we breath has about one percent water vapor, and even more on a humid day. And even though you can “feel” it, the vapor only begins to turn into actual water if the temperature drops significantly. That’s when you begin to see water droplets form on windows and stream downwards. 

If the temperature continues to cool even more, the water will begin to freeze. On the side of a roof, icicles might form as water runs down the side of a newly formed icicle, freezing as it does and increasing its size. What began as something quite invisible has become, because of cooler temperatures, quite apparent. 

It’s not cooler temperatures that transform the light of G–D from ayin to yaish, but distance. The further the light “travels” away from its Source, Ayin itself, the less intense it becomes, and therefore, less spiritual. At a certain distance it will reach “condensation point,” that is, the point at which the spiritual makes the leap to the physical and, voila! something physical results. 

That actual point occurs between the sefirah of Chochmah and Binah, or between the partzufim of Atzilus and Beriyah. But that is already Kabbalah 201. 

Rabbi Winston: Parashas Acharei-Kedoshim – Two Aspects to Being a Complete Jew

PERCEPTION IS EVERYTHING. It’s the difference between recognizing great opportunity and overlooking it. It’s the difference between making a good decision and a bad one. It may even be the decision between life and death, physical, spiritual, or both. Too bad it is so poorly understood.

The main problem is that people assume, and understandably so, that what they see is the only way to see it. Even though countless times throughout life we learn otherwise, sometimes laughing, sometimes crying over something we mis-saw, we don’t assume otherwise until we have reason to. Tragedy is when the reason shows up too late to right the wrong of a misperception.

Part of the problem is, that people think that perception is objective because it is perceiving an objective world. Is it a mountain, or isn’t it? Is it raining, or isn’t it? Is something real, or is it imaginary? 

Hmm. And how many times have people been fooled into thinking it was a mountain when it was something else altogether that only became clear from a closer distance? How many times has it looked like it was raining, and it actually wasn’t? How many times has the “real” ended up being imaginary, and vice-versa? Enough times to make a person more cautious about what they think they are perceiving.

What makes perception so tricky is personal bias. We’ve always known that bias can influence the way we feel about something. It is only more recently that we found out that bias actually influences what we see, and how we see it. Even the universe takes our biases into account when choosing its form.

Some games have the right idea. There are games that people play during which they have to navigate their surroundings looking for clues to achieve some objective. Knowing that everything has been set up to disguise the hints through the appearance of normality, contestants approach everything without a certain amount of suspicion. They constantly assess if what they see is what it actually appears to be, or is really some hidden piece of the puzzle.

If only people approached life the same way. If only people had more of a Sherlock Holmes approach to life, not taking anything for granted. There wouldn’t be so much delusion in life, and more people would find truth faster. 

As a “ba’al teshuvah,” I can appreciate this. For the first 10 years after I could think for myself, I thought Judaism was just another religion, and cheder did little to convince me otherwise. I thought it and all religions were antiquated, even the “opium of the masses.” I even believed that religion was the source of most global conflicts.

A series of unexpected events ended up changing my point of view. When I finally had the opportunity to learn Torah as it had been learned over the ages, I discovered that my perceptions about Judaism had been half-baked, if that. As I learned more, I was able to see which of my assumptions had been true, and which had been false. Building on the former and dispensing with the latter altered my perception, and eventually, my lifestyle.

IT DID NOT end there. Even after years of learning, and having learned the entire Talmud, Babylonian and Jerusalem, it turned out that my perception about life still needed honing. I could have stagnated on that level and fit in within most around me. Once again, an unexpected series of events pushed me further down the “rabbit hole.”

“Torah” is a very general word that encompasses four areas of learning, Pshat, Remez, Drush, and Sod. Though just about every aspect of Torah can be learned on all four levels, the four levels themselves can be said to correspond to four distinct areas of Torah learning: Chumash, Mishnah, Talmud, and Kabbalah. The view of Torah is different on each level. So different in fact, that it can even seem as if levels contradict one another.

They don’t. But when the seem to, you realize that your previous understanding of something was wrong on some level, and needs revision. Or, you can do what some people prefer to do: pretend that such other levels do not exist. Many people choose the status quo over truth.

But I was fortunate enough along my way to be in the company of others who loved to learn. I was shown areas of the Talmud that many do not see today. I was exposed to many midrashim I otherwise would never have found. I even had a friend who introduced me to the writings of the “Leshem,” my gateway to Kabbalah. Each layer of learning nudged me out of my comfortable and reconizable status quo.

Sometimes the change in thinking was just an adjustment, a tweak. But on some rare occasions the ideas were so novel that I had to overhaul some of the more conventional ways of thinking that had become my norm. Paradigm shifts are rarely anticipated or welcomed, and even great minds like Albert Einstein had difficult with some until his dying day. 

It gets easier once you change your orientation. Like just about everyone else, I had assumed we knew enough to be certain about life, and that new ideas only refined our knowledge. I have come to learn over time and from experience, that just the opposite is true: we know and understand so little about reality, and it is amazing what we are actually able to grasp.

It’s eye-opening to be sure. I mean it literally opens your eyes to the world and you become sensitive to how everything can teach you things you didn’t know before. You learn to take less for granted, and with such a heightened awareness, important insights about G–D, Torah, and life in general just start popping up all over the place. It just makes life so much more captivating and exciting.

THE RAMBAN ASKS why it is that the mitzvah to be holy comes so late in the sefer, at the beginning of Parashas Kedoshim. Since it is the underlying premise of all the mitzvos in the book, it should have preceded them all. Or it could have come at the end of Vayikra, as a summary of what the mitzvos were given to help us achieve.

He has his answer, as does Rashi. But based upon what has just been said, there is another. 

Holiness is a perspective. It is a way of looking at the world. If a Sefer Torah is about to fall to the ground, people will literally dive to catch it. But Titus took one and defiled it in the Holy of Holies as an act of power and defiance (Gittin 56b). Other Romans wrapped scholars in them and burned them together. 

Most secular Jews know enough to treat a Sefer Torah with some level of respect. But it takes some Torah learning for them to reach a point where there are in awe of a Sefer Torah. And as they get that learning and develop awe, they do teshuvah, and become a ba’al teshuvah. They learn about kedushah—holiness, and that allows them to look at the world in a holy way. Mitzvos that once didn’t talk to them begin to, from a perspective of kedushah. 

In a sense, it is as if the Torah says in this week’s parsha, that the importance of the mitzvos, until the mitzvah to be holy, can be understood even before a person grapples with the concept of holiness. But the mitzvos after “kedoshim tehiyu—be holy,” require the person to attain a holy perspective to properly relate to them.

It’s like wearing glasses. If you need glasses to see clearly, then reading without them means having blurry vision. As I waited for my glasses to be fitted with new lenses, I struggled to read, and therefore connect, to my learning. Interestingly enough, my impaired physical vision affected my spiritual vision as well. 

The moment I put on my glasses with the news lenses, everything became clearer than clear. Not only could I see the words precisely, but I even felt drawn into them, and it so enhanced my learning. And if this is true about one’s physical eyes, how much more so must it be about one’s mind’s eye.

Without holiness, a person can read the mitzvos that follow, and understand them word-for-word. They can figure out what they mean, and how to fulfill them on some level. But they will not fully see them as they are meant to be seen, or as the reflection of their Creator they were designed to be. Even a seemingly simple mitzvah like “love your neighbor as yourself” will not make sense to the extent that it should, which is how so many people can know it, and yet not fulfill it.

REBI AKIVA WAS famous for many things, one of which was his statement that, “Love your neighbor as yourself is a great principle of Torah.” This is why it begs the question how 24,000 of his students specifically, for whom we mourn at this time, could die during the Omer period for having not respected one another sufficiently. What about their great rebi’s teaching?

It is because there are two aspects to being a completed Jew. There is the learning of Torah to the greatest extent you personally can, and there is being as holy as you can in the process so you can relate to G–D. One makes you a talmid chacham while the other makes you a holy one.

Each part of the process should help the other. Unfortunately, they are not necessarily interdependent, which means that it is possible to excel at one while negating the other. And many do, and feel that it is enough to excel in the area that they do, and that they don’t need to improve in the other. So they don’t. 

It’s a tragic error in thinking. First of all, they deny themselves aspects of Torah, and therefore important aspects of their relationship with G–D. Not only does this limit their reward in the World-to-Come, it limits their ability to have the pleasure of feeling the Shechinah in their lives.

This is because a talmid chacham without sufficient holiness cannot relate to Torah to the full extent they would want to. On the other hand, a holy “simpleton” does not have the background to appreciate how to properly fulfill Torah’s directives. Each side loses out.

Lag B’omer is this coming week, b”H, and it marks the end of the mourning period for Rebi Akiva’s students. According to history, they stopped dying on that day. It is also the day on which Rebi Shimon bar Yochai revealed the Zohar to his students. For both reasons, it is considered to be a holy day worthy of celebration.

But it is what precedes the day and what follows it that teaches us what it is all about. There are 32 days of sefirah counting prior to Lag B’omer, the gematria of “leiv—heart.” There are 17 days of sefirah counting after Lag B’omer, the gematria of “tov—good.” It is kedushah that straightens a person’s heart and prepares them to learn Torah, the basis of “tov.” Thus, when G–D says “Be holy!” He doesn’t end off with that. Instead He adds, “because I am holy.” 

In other words, if you want to be close to G–D, whom the Zohar says is one with Torah, you have to first live a life of holiness. You can read Torah without being holy, but you can’t really learn it, not the way it was meant to be learned. Anyone can read the words of Torah, but only the holy talmid chacham can learn it as G–D meant it to be learned.

Rabbi Winston: Parshas Shemini – The Four Worlds

FOR ABOUT A year now, I have been going for an early morning walk, kind of my pre-dovening hisbodedus (meditation). It is still dark outside, and very quiet. I started going for exercise at first when my runner went on the fritz, but I continued after it was fixed because I realized that it had something my runner can’t give me: the sound of silence.

Just this morning before going out for my walk, I saw a booklet at the shul in which I doven. I usually drop my tallis and tefillin off at my shul before walking, so I can return straight there on my way back. The book was titled, “How Cell Phones Try to Take Over Our Lives,” or something to that effect. I didn’t have time to look through it much, but I got the gist of it and used my imagination for the rest.

We are living in one of the noisiest, most distracting non-war generations ever, literally an era of sounds. Rarely a minyan happens without some cell phone going off “accidentally,” and seemingly always during Shemoneh Esrai. Then there is the person who likes to hear their phone beep every time a text message or e-mail comes in, disturbing those around them. 

And somewhere off in the distance there is always a truck, or even a car, beeping in reverse, while someone close by plays on some kind of device that also makes weird sounds. Thank G–D for Shabbos, without which the sounds would continue seven days a week, as they do for those who do not observe Shabbos. I wouldn’t be surprised if some people going to libraries just to find some silence.

This makes mindfulness more difficult. It is hard to be in the zone when so many external things are happening all around. It is possible to concentrate when it is noisy, but much easier to do so when all is quiet. I think this is what I enjoy most about my morning walks—I don’t have to try to concentrate. It happens automatically.

As a result, I have come up with some nice insights, thank G–D, while walking in the quiet of early morning. In fact, I try to have a question in mind before I start on my way so that I can think about it as I walk. Invariably, I usually come up with any answer, which I quickly jot down in my note book once I return to shul. It’s a very rewarding experience, and one that I look forward to each day, even when tired. I have even gone on my walks in the rain.

THE TALMUD SAYS that if a person wants to truly learn Torah, they should make themself like a midbar—a desert: 

If you make yourself into a midbar, then your Torah will remain. (Eiruvin 54a) 

The simple explanation is that a desert symbolizes humility, being ownerless and a place that everyone tramples. Nothing much grows there, and though it has its own kind of beauty, it is not one that draws people there in droves. If anything, it reminds people of death more than life.

But this is not a contradiction of the fact that Torah is called a “tree of life.” Ironically, to access this tree of life the Talmud also says, one must make themself like a dead person, as the Rambam, explains: 

Words of Torah do not endure for those who are lazy concerning [studying] them, and not for those who study amidst pleasure and eating and drinking. Rather, [it endures] for the one who gives up his life for them (words of Torah) and constantly strains his body, not giving any sleep to his eyes nor slumber to his eyelids. The Rabbis said, in a manner of allusion [regarding the verse], “This is the law if a man should die in a tent” (Bamidbar 19:14), that the Torah only endures for the one who dies for it in the tents of the wise…The Rabbis have said that a covenant is established that anyone who exhausts himself in his Torah study in the Bais Midrash will not forget it quickly. And anyone who exhausts himself in Torah study in private will become wise, as it says: “To the modest will come wisdom” (Mishlei 11:2). (Yad, Hilchos Talmud Torah 3:12)

The Rambam is clearly taking about self-sacrifice for Torah, and like anything in life, the more of yourself you give to know it, the more you are able to acquire it. He has also added the need to limit the pursuit of material pleasures because Torah is a spiritual pursuit, and as the Talmud says, the pursuit of one is usually at the cost of the other (Brochos 5b). This is why elsewhere the Talmud says that Torah comes from the mouths of the poor (Nedarim 81a).

This is, of course, 100 percent true and a golden rule of learning Torah, though people still try to eat from both “tables.” But perhaps there is another aspect that is being overlooked, one that has to do with another quality of a desert and deserted places in general: quiet. 

Interestingly enough, the word for “noise” is “ra’ash,” spelled Raish-Ayin-Shin. They happen to be the three letters for “rasha,” which is an evil person, because evil people tend to make a lot of noise. As it says in the Talmud regarding Ephron who sold Ma’aras Hamakpelah to Avraham (Bereishis 23:16), evil people say a lot but do little. 

And when its says “evil” people, it doesn’t have to mean the worst people in the world. Evil is a broad term that can also refer to actions alone, and not necessarily to the person doing them. Killing a person accidentally is also a level of evil, though the person who did it is not necessarily evil. There are people who do evil, and then there are the people who personify it. There is a difference.

On my walk in the mornings, I often walk by some teenagers who hang out in the streets at that time. They probably have good hearts and are just very confused about life, intellectually, emotionally, or both. You can feel their struggle for identity from 50 feet away, especially when they insist on talking and yelling at the top of their lungs, though people in the houses around them are still asleep. Somehow doing that makes them feel more secure.

Silence is not only golden. It can also be a sign of righteousness and wisdom.

THIS IDEA MAY actually open the door to a new answer to an old question regarding the prophecy Moshe Rabbeinu had about the future Rebi Akiva. The story goes like this:

When Moshe ascended on High, he found The Holy One, Blessed Is He, sitting and tying crowns on the letters [of the Torah]. He asked: “Master of the Universe, who is preventing You [from giving the Torah without these crowns]?”

[G–D] told him: “There is a man who is destined to be [born] after several generations, and Akiva ben Yosef is his name. He is destined to derive from each and every thorn [of these crowns] mounds upon mounds of laws.” 

[Moshe] asked [G–D]: “Master of the Universe, show him to me!” 

He told him: “Turn around.” 

[Moshe] went and sat at the end of the eighth row [in Rebi Akiva’s bais midrash] and did not understand what they were saying. His strength weakened, [thinking his Torah knowledge was lacking]. When [Rebi Akiva] arrived [at the discussion of] one matter, his students questioned him: “Rebi, from where do you [derive this]?” 

[Rebi Akiva] answered them: “It is a law [given] to Moshe at Sinai.” 

[When Moshe heard this], his mind was put at ease, [knowing that this too was part of the Torah he was going to receive]. 

[Moshe] returned to before The Holy One, Blessed Is He, and said to Him: “Master of the Universe, You have a man [as great] as this and You still choose to give the Torah through me?!” 

[G–D] answered him: “Shtok—Be silent! This arose b’mach-shavah—in the mind before Me.” (Menachos 29b)

“Be silent! This arose in the mind before Me”?! Really? 

It was one thing for G–D to tell Moshe, “Good question, but this is what I have decided to do.” But why the “shtok—be quiet”? Even if Moshe had overstepped a boundary by questioning the way of G–D, he did it out of modesty, not chutzpah. It sounds as if G–D was reprimanding him. 

Kabbalah has a better answer. G–D did not lose His patience with Moshe but instead told him, “I’d love to give you an answer to your question, but it exists on a very high spiritual level called “Machshavah.” It is too sublime to be expressed in words, so you’ll have to do without it.” “Shtok alludes to this.

However, maybe it means something else now. Maybe G–D was telling Moshe that the profound understanding he sought could only come through a desert-like silence, not words. Words convey information from the outside to the inside. The answer Moshe sought, being incredibly profound, could only come from within, like prophecy itself, as it says:

After the earthquake fire, not in the fire was G–D, and after the fire a still small sound. (I Melachim 19:12)

When a person blocks out the noise of the outside world, they can suddenly “hear” G–Dly insights, profound and sublime ideas that are always there but which get blocked out by all the outside noise. The “masters of silence” have known this for a long time, and have spent considerable time in meditation for this reason. But the extent to which a person can access such “quiet” knowledge also depends upon the level of one’s soul, and Aharon HaKohen had a very high soul.

PERHAPS THIS IS why Aharon not only remained quiet at the moment when his sons Nadav and Avihu shockingly died, he was “domeim.” The verse does not say, “vayishtock Aharon—and Aharon was quiet,” it says “vayidom Aharon,” a word which means “quiet” as well, but on a more profound level.

There are four levels of reality according to Kabbalah: Domaim, Tzomayach, Chai, and Medabehr, literally: Silent, Growing, Living, and Speaking. They refer to four “worlds”: Mineral, Vegetation, Animal, and Human. A desert falls into the category of Domaim, being mostly sand and almost zero vegetation. It is certainly not a place for most animals, and humans find it inhabitable. 

But, as mentioned, deserts have their own beauty. If the sun and living conditions are not a threat, there is something very peaceful and settling about a desert. It is certainly a place where a person can hear themself think, being cut off from all the distractions of bustling cities.

Perhaps this is one of the reasons why G–D chose to give His Torah in the desert, and not in Egypt or even in Eretz Yisroel. The isolation from the rest of society made it easier to focus on the matter at hand. It created a sense of historic uniqueness, which was crucial for Kabbalas HaTorah. 

I’ve seen this difference on a much smaller scale. I have been part of a Shabbaton held in a downtown hotel, and one that was held out in the country at some lodge. The teachers were the same as was the material. The food was just as good. But the atmosphere was entirely different, being away from the hustle and bustle of the outside world. It’s just the way people work. 

Maybe this is the deeper meaning of “vayidom Aharon.” It is telling us that Aharon’s response to the terrible crisis was not only not to go to pieces, which would have been understandable, but in the opposite direction. He silenced himself and shut out the entire world so he could access the great calm necessary to put the events of the moment into Divine perspective.

This would explain why, as Rashi explains, G–D spoke to him alone shortly after. It wasn’t just a reward for his loyalty at such a difficult moment, but actually the result of it. He made himself as quiet and humble as a domaim-desert, and the result was that the word of G–D came to him, from within.

Sometimes people work so hard to find answers to difficult questions in the noisy world around them. In the week’s parsha, we see how those answers are more likely to come from within us, accessible only when we achieve the profound level of personal silence necessary to hear them.