Yom Kippur 5775

Now, it is Yom Kippur and we are being weighed in the scales of justice. If you’re like the rest of us, and you imagine yourself standing outside the courtroom looking in, you’ll see yourself sitting on the balance-pan which has “Guilty” written on it. You’re probably frowning and nodding your head. “Yeah, that’s me alright. I did a lot of things wrong and a lot of wrong things. Did some good things too, just not a lot and just not enough.”

You step into the courtroom to get a better look at the judge. You see who it is, but you can’t believe your eyes. You rub them, shake your head and take another look. You’re astounded. That’s the judge?! Really? It’s no wonder you recognize the magistrate—it’s you!

God is going to judge us on Yom Kippur for what we did and for what we didn’t do. You (we) are responsible for what you (we) said and did and thought. Actions have consequences. We must own up to that. God will decide, in His mercy, how best to arrange our lives to correct our mistakes so that we learn how to not repeat them.

Our good behavior, the nice things we said, the mitzvahs we hoped or thought to do? God takes those into account too. In His mercy, He will decide how best to arrange our lives so that we can get better at these and do them more frequently.

If it ended with this weighing, most of us would end up in the guilty-pan. But while God is judging your other actions, He is waiting to see how you perform the act judging your self. Will you convict and condemn yourself to “guiltiness,” to being a person who can never grow out of wrong thinking/speaking/behavior? Or will you say, “Hey! Yes, I did those wrong things and a lot, lot more, but that’s not me. Kiddush, charity, being respectful to the Torah scroll—it’s not that much, but that’s who I am!”

Yom Kippur is the day to “judge” and define yourself, to return to your innate goodness. Identifying with the good you’ve done makes you meritorious. The old you is gone and the guilty-pan a thing of the past. Being meritorious may not bring you a life of wine and roses, but it will put a song of God in your heart on and on your lips, come what may.

May you and yours be sealed in the Book of Life for Good Life. Amen.

© Copyright 2014 148west.com/O. Bergman

 

Have No Tunnel Fear

The entire world—all of life—is a very, very narrow bridge, Rebbe Nachman teaches (Likutey Moharan II, Lesson #48). And, he says, the main thing is to not get frightened.

A tunnel built by those who want to kill you is not a bridge. And apparently, those built by Hamas frighten many, many people. I would like to make a humble suggestion that may help remove, or at least ease, the fear for some us.

Rabbi Yitzchak Ginsburgh (of inner.org fame) has what he calls, a “Divine space” meditation. Our bodies are, obviously, located in space. There are six directions: in front of us and behind us; right and left; above and below. Each direction relates to one of the six constant mitzvahs, i.e., the mitzvahs a person can do any time, any place.

The six mitzvahs are:

  1. To believe in God’s existence
  2. To believe that there is no god, power or force independent of God
  3. To believe in God’s Oneness and Uniqueness
  4. To love God
  5. To fear God
  6. To not stray after one’s heart or eyes

Rabbi Ginsburgh relates each mitzvah to a direction and to a pasuk (verse) of the Torah. For our purpose, we will relate just the two that are immediately relevant.

To believe in God’s existence is the first of the Ten Commandments, “I am the Lord your God (Exodus 20:2). Think of this mitzvah as being above you, “over your head,” as you sit, stand, walk or ride. I encourage people to think of this as being the Ultimate Iron Dome.

The second of the Ten Commandments—and what inspired this piece—is the mitzvah to believe that there is no god other than God Himself, “You will have no other gods before Me” (ibid. V.3). This mitzvah is “below,” it is the bedrock of our security. It is the ground we walk on.

Where we stand, where we stride, no force can touch us. We Jews have nothing to fear as long we are rock-certain that no one and nothing can do us harm, unless God wills it.

Don’t be afraid of tunnels or those that build them, who think they can hide their evil deeds from God. “Blessed are You, Hashem, Who protects His people Yisrael, forever.”

© Copyright 2014 148west.com/O. Bergman

 

For Heaven’s Sake!

(With the kind permission of Pe’er Yisroel Institute)

Even if one’s sin contains absolutely no trace of mitzvah, that’s no reason for a person to forget Hashem, one’s Maker. He should mention God aloud. He should inject some “sake of Heaven,” whatever it might be, even if it’s farfetched, into what he’s doing. Look at King Saul. As he was committing the sin of going to a soothsayer, he swore, As God lives! (Shmuel-1 28:10).[1]

They said something similar about Hillel. He would say “Baruch (blessed is) Hashem, day in and day out.” Everything he did was for the sake of Heaven, even though he was lazy in honoring Shabbos. He wasn’t like Shammai who started on Sunday to prepare for Shabbos.

The Rashbatz, Cheilek Hashem Amo of Magen Avos on Pirkei Avos

 


[1] The Rashbatz also brings the Midrash (Vayikra Rabbah 26:7): What was Saul like at that moment? Reish Lakish says, “He was like an unfaithful wife who was with her paramour and took an oath in the name of her husband. That was Saul—consulting a soothsayer and saying, “As God lives!”

© Copyright 2013 Pe’er Yisroel Institute and 148west.com

for Rosh Hashanah 5774

Some words as we get closer to the sunset of 5773, and the opening of 5774.

Once, at the beginning of the year, Rebbe Yochanan ben Zakkai (a Mishnaic sage who was a teacher of one of Rebbe Akiva’s teachers) had a dream. He saw that that year, his nephews were to lose 700 dinarim. (How much is that? Enough to buy more oxen and camels than you’ve ever dreamed of owning.) What did Rebbe Yochanan do? Throughout the year, he went to them more often than usual, asking them to contribute to various charities. They gave and they gave.

Near the end of the year, his nephews were hit with an unexpected tax bill. They came to Rebbe Yochanan for advice. “Don’t worry,” he said. “They won’t take more than 17 dinar.” They asked him how he was so certain. He told him about his dream. “Since you’ve given me 683 dinar, you won’t lose more than 17.”

“Why didn’t you tell us about the dream? We would have given you the whole thing!”

“No,” Rebbe Yochanan said. “It’s better that you give the charity for the sake of the mitzvah.”

I bless you with a prayer I say for myself. If, God forbid, you have to lose any money this year, may it be to worthy charities, and not to doctors/(self-)medications, lawsuits, traffic fines, late fees, penalties. May you give to the needy, not to the greedy—and for the right reasons.

I’m not big on predictions, astrological or otherwise. But I’ll go out on a limb here. Ready? Every reader of this blog will have his/her Jewishness tested this year! Hard to fathom, I know, but I guarantee it. Not to worry, though. I offer you a piece of ancient Jewish wisdom that is tried and true. If you follow it simply and straightforwardly, you’ll make it through the storm.

Don’t surrender! Maintain whatever practices and devotions (aka Torah study/mitzvah observance and prayer) that you have undertaken. Even if it looks as if they are not helping your Jewish progress; even if it seems that they are hindering it, ask yourself (in a Talmudic sing-song, if possible): “If I pray regularly and am going backwards, how likely is it that not-praying will help me go forward?”

The difference between tzaddikim and people like us? They don’t give up. Adjust, exhale, regroup and re-plan, but never, ever throw in the towel.

And what should we pray for? This is a “been asked almost forever” question. A Roshh Hashanah piyut (supplemental poem-prayer) answers in two short sentences:

Give me to understand what I should ask for /
Make me aware what I should request

If you make it to Uman, please look me up. I’m staying at the Ritz.

May you and yours be immediately written and sealed for good life and shalom. Amen.

© Copyright 2013 148west.com/O. Bergman

Chosen Person

We’re on the threshold of receiving the Torah, again. As we wrote earlier, one of the reasons we stay awake all Shavuot night to learn Torah, is to awaken our desire for living Torah, despite any obstacles we may face in life. And face obstacles we will.

Rebbe Nachman talks often of the desire to be a Jew, the desire to live Jewishly, the desire to actualize the desire to daven (pray) more/better, learn Torah more/better, be charitable and kind more/better, have stronger faith and love for God, etc. What’s the starting point for that desire? The starting point is to realize that not only are we Jews the Chosen People, but that you, in your Jewishness, are a Chosen Person. Without your having stood at Mount Sinai at the Revelation to receive the Torah, no Jew, not even Moshe Rabbeinu, would have the Torah.

You were chosen to be there and, like the rest of us, you accepted the invitation and the responsibility. And you’re going to fail. Not all the time, hopefully, but often enough to think about quitting or about moving the goalposts (i.e., lowering your standards of Judaism). But this misguided thinking is based on a lack of humility. Your failures—just like my failures and the other guy’s failures—should give you a clearer picture of what your currently capable of and where you need improvement. Your failures, and the humility they breed, should weaken neither your desire nor your resolve for Jewishness. On the contrary—they should strengthen them so much that your failures become stepping stones to Jewish success.

Have a beautiful yom tov. Don’t forget. Being happy that it’s yom tov is a mitzvah. Don’t get suckered into an argument or a funk because the cheesecake didn’t come out right or the rabbi’s class was too long.

Based on Likutey Halakhot, Hekhsher Keilim 4:18

 

© Copyright 2013 O. Bergman/148West