Tell the Truth!

(In memory of Chaim Barukh Yehudah ben Dovid Tzvi zl)

 

The fourth of the Ten Commandments is, “Remember the Shabbat day” (Exodus 20:8). Its parallel is the ninth commandment, “Do not give false witness against your countryman” (v. 13). [One sense of “parallel” is that when the Ten Commandments are written in two columns of five, the fourth and the ninth align with one another.] Rebbe Yosi pointed out that Shabbat is called “testimony.” So a Jew must testify to the following, “For in six days God made the Heaven, the earth, the sea and everything in them, and He rested on the seventh day” (v.11).

Since Shabbat contains within her all the other six days, a Jew who testifies to God’s resting, testifies to God’s having created Heaven and Earth.

Rebbe Yosi also said, “Do you know what ‘Give truth to Yaakov’ (Micah 7:20) is alluding to? This: ‘The Children of Yisrael will keep the Shabbat’ (Exodus 31:16). A Jew who observes Shabbat is living proof of God’s having created the world.

“One who gives false witness testifies falsely against the honest testimony and truth of Shabbat. And one who lies about Shabbat—by desecrating it—declares the whole Torah a lie, because the two are inter-dependent.”

Zohar 2:90a

© Copyright 2014 148west.com/O. Bergman

Be Delighted. Keep Shabbos.

On Shabbat the tzaddik delivers lechem mishneh. (The term lechem mishneh refers to the “double bread,” the two loaves of challah on which the homotzi blessing is recited at each of the three Shabbat meals.) This lechem mishneh is Mishnah Torah which gives you the privilege of generating new Torah insights that are “two for one.”
The tzaddik uses the holiness of Shabbat to deliver Torah lessons that contain eye-opening and lofty teachings. In these teachings you can find a lot of ethical instruction, motivation to be awe-inspired and new levels of comprehension for understanding the truth. This is what is meant by the term chidushei Torah, new Torah insights. Because when you listen sincerely to these teachings you are infused with new awareness of Hashem and powerful inspiration to live by the Torah.
If you truly hear these Torah teachings, you become a new person—your perception and wisdom are brand new. This is why the teachings are new Torah insights.
The holiness of Shabbat has a number of positive effects. One, it generates fullness of blessing in all the spiritual worlds, including ours. Second, it permeates every single level of serving Hashem with enlightenment. That means that even ordinary people, even those who aren’t considered God-fearing, glow with increased wisdom and perception for understanding Torah and faith. This doesn’t happen by itself. The Jew has to keep Shabbat as prescribed by the Shulchan Arukh, sincerely, for the sake of Heaven.
Keeping Shabbat honestly and sincerely makes one worthy of both spiritual and physical healing.

*
You can make Shabbat shine. How? By keeping Shabbat properly and feeling the spiritual delight it gives. This awakens in you a desire to return to Hashem out of love, teshuvah m’ahavah. Keeping Shabbat properly triggers within you a love for Hashem so deep that you just want to become closer and closer to Him.
Most of the time, it is as a result of suffering that people become more caring about their relationship with Hashem. But when Shabbat shines on you, your motivation is your intense love for Hashem. You don’t need to suffer, at all, to be reminded that Hashem is always present and that you are obligated to keep the Torah (as are all of us Jews).
The illumination of Shabbat heals every sincerely observant Jew of all the suffering s/he has borne till now. S/He becomes worthy of people’s esteem. Each of these kosher Jews—in proportion to his sincerity and his honest observance of the Torah—gains recognition and honor from everybody s/he meets.
To the degree that your Torah observance is sincere and the greater prestige and esteem with which others view you, you will understand the Shabbat chidushei Torah (Torah teachings) of the generation’s leading tzaddik.

 

© Copyright 2014 148west.com/O. Bergman

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

One-Eyed Jacks are Wild

Today (Tuesday, June 25, 2013) was the fast day of the 17th of Tammuz marking (among other things) the 3000th–something anniversary of the breaking of the Luchot, the tablets which had the Ten Commandments engraved into them. None other than Moshe Rabbeinu, aka Moses the Lawgiver, broke them. Why did he do that? Because when he came down from Mount Sinai, there were the Jews, dancing and carousing around the Golden Calf.

To give you some perspective on what a colossal error this was by our ancestors, Chazal (our Sages of blessed memory) tell us that anytime the Jewish people suffer, part of that suffering is “payback” for making and worshipping the Golden Calf. (I say “payback,” because I don’t want to get into the whole reward and punishment thing right now.) It was a severe mistake and colossal because it was only 40 days after the Divine revelation that was part and parcel of the giving of the Torah. Then—BOOM!—the rush to throw it away.

It may sound far-fetched and terrible, but don’t judge them unfavorably. If you ever attended a genuinely uplifting and truly inspiring spiritual retreat—or Rosh Hashanah in Uman or a Tony Robbins workshop—and came back only to, um, screw up really badly a few days later, think twice before casting stones.

But my point now is to share with you an insight into human motivation; how deep teshuvah (returning to God) has to go; and how precious even a mixed-up, watered-down puff of teshuvah is, whether yours or someone else’s, even if it’s only a distant memory now. This is from Sichot HaRan (Rabbi Nachman’s Wisdom) #123.

The Rebbe once spoke about those who undertake religious observance but then fall away. He said that even the short time that they drew themselves close is very dear to God, no matter what happened later, God forbid.

To support his statement he said, “About the giving of the Torah it is written, ‘You captured My heart with one of your eyes” (Song of Songs 4:9). The Midrash asks why God says the Israelites’ love was only “with one of your eyes.” It answers that the Israelites already had their other eye on the Golden Calf (Shabbat 88b; Gittin 36b; Shir Hashirim Rabbah 1:55). Even as they were accepting the Torah, they already had plans to stray, God forbid. Still, their closeness to God was very dear to Him—“You captured my heart with one of your eyes.”

 

© Copyright 2013 O. Bergman/148West

What is Teshuvah?

What is teshuvah? Teshuvah is change—change of behavior, change of heart and change of mind.

When we change from cheeseburgers to chulent, from bar-hopping to  beis midrash-going, and g’neivisheh shtick to kosher gelt, our new behaviors indicate (to others, but most importantly to ourselves) that other changes have taken place within us. Outside motions are sometimes nothing more than an act, but they are more often a test of our inner resolve.

Did we really have a change of heart? Did we really take stock of the gifts that Hashem Yisborakh (Blessed God) gave and gives us? Not just the sweet-tasting gifts, mind you, but the ones that make us sweat and put our shoulder to the grindstone, and the ones that make us weep. Did we stop to think about the gap between what we sense, what we intuit deep inside of our heart about what we know is the purpose of our life and what we really do, how we actually spend our time? Did we hear the inaudible scream of our heart that mourns the disconnect between our inborn Yiddishe neshamah and our lives hijacked by galus Edom (the current exile)?

Our outer changes give an indication that yes, we did. We felt, all things considered, life had to change, so we changed it. But our inner discontent, that nagging feeling that it’s not enough, that the gap is still too large, is a better indicator that our change of heart is still effective, still evolving, still pumping new life into our Yiddishkeit.

But after all this wonderful and necessary change, did we change our minds?

We all know the famous Gemara (Kiddushin 49b), that if a man says to a woman, “You are my wife on condition that I am a tzaddik,” she is married to him (if she said yes!). No matter what crimes he has done, no matter how often, no matter for how long he has been doing them, she is wife. Why? The Gemara explains, “Maybe he had a thought of teshuvah.”

He didn’t put on tzitzit or tefillin, didn’t give tzedakkah (charity) or drop his ham sandwich — yet. Nothing. But already, despite not doing anything positive, he is already a complete tzaddik because of one thought, “I will improve on my Jewishness.”

This Gemara has a flipside. If a man, even a known tzaddik, says to a woman, “You are my wife on condition that I am a rasha (villain),” she is married to him (if she said yes). Why? The Gemara explains, “Maybe he had a thought of idolatry.”

Another famous Gemara (Kiddushin 39b). A youngster climbs a tree to do the mitzvah of shiluach hakein at his father’s request, falls and dies. Acher didn’t understand how a person doing the two mitzvahs for which the holy Torah promises long life could die while doing them! The Gemara answers that the youngster had his thoughts focused on avodah zarah (idolatry). The value of what you do—including teshuvah—is set by your mind.

I once asked Reb Shlomo Freifeld zal why teshuvah is easier at the beginning stages, but becomes progressively harder as one continues his journey. He answered, “At first teshuvah is like cutting off a gangrened limb. Then it becomes brain surgery.” He was referring to the elimination of the many subtle traces of the poisonous influences that infect our motivation, our ego-worship and our greed among them.

I want to elaborate. We who have grown up in galus (exile), regardless which nation was our host, have been so attacked by goyish culture, attitudes and values that we are concussed. Without even realizing it, we have goals that our not Jewish, standards that are not Jewish, and ways and methods for dealing with ordinary (and extraordinary) situations that are not Jewish. (Of course, by “Jewish” I mean that which the holy Torah recommends or, at the very least, sanctions.)

That is, for the most part, we think like goyim. What’s worse is, we aren’t even aware that we do.

I’m not an anti-Esavian or an anti-Ishmaelite. On the contrary. I’m a member of the minute minority that holds that v’ahavta l’reiakha k’mokha means to love goyim as well. (Yes, there is such a pre-19th century deah.) Doesn’t mean I want to be one or think like one, God forbid.

The real test of our teshuvah—and do yourself a favor: be ready to be tested over and over for the rest of your life—is how we think when confronted with a challenge. Do we analyze, reflect and consider our challenge(s) solely by the Torah’s attitude? Or do we mix in some political doctrine, philosophical inquiry or scientific bias in trying to figure out what the desired outcome is and how we might achieve it?

Let me be a bit more blunt. When we have a problem, where do we go for a solution? To the Torah? Or, God forbid, to Google? When we need a modus operandi for a situation, do we search for it with a talmid chakham, a Jew saturated with Torah knowledge and experience, or some bright guy with a Ph.D.?*

Teshuvah never ends. Up to and including our dying moment, we have to be vigilant that what (and how) we do, what we want and how we see life, fits the Divine wisdom we call Torah. It’s not always easy—even with Rabbeinu zal, good friends and hisbodedus helping us—but, hey, God chose you. You can do it—if you want to.

 

*I am quite aware that the ability to give good advice is not produced only by knowledge and level of religious observance. It also requires seikhel!

 

© Copyright 2013 O. Bergman/148west.com

Got Torah?

Although we’ve been given the Torah, even now God still has it. He’s the only one who knows the Torah’s core depth, its roads to be walked and how to instill Torah-living into humankind.

How much of the Torah any of us receives is directly related to how much he is willing to sacrifice for it. No pain, no gain. Effort, strain, sacrifice, late nights and early mornings in study. Going the extra mile to attend a minyan and to attend to someone in need.

The more you give of your time, money and body, the more of the Torah you receive and the longer it stays with you. How much do you want the Torah? How much do you want it when it’s going to cost you something? Something precious?

Shavuot is a festival. Enjoying it to rejoice in it is a mitzvah, a way of coming close to God. Celebrate your choseness, that God thinks you’re capable enough, clever enough and responsible enough to dance through life holding His Torah.

agut yom tov!

Chag sameach!

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

Behar-Bechukotai

Dvar Torah for Parshat Behar-Bechukotai 5773

All Beginnings Are Difficult

 

Well now. 148West’s maiden dvar Torah. Very exciting, for me at least. After writing “a weekly column” for someone else, I’m doing it for someone else—me. The exciting part is, that no longer working as “an official spokesman” for Breslov Research Institute (blessed be its name) and, by extension, Breslov, I can write about topics that an organization wouldn’t. To have that freedom is exciting.

It’s also a big responsibility. Those who know me, or of me, expect that what I say is Breslov, or defines Breslov, or is the consensus of Breslover chassidim. That’s a definite maybe. I try, in my personal life, to behave (and speak, and think) in accord with what I learn in Rebbe Nachman’s works. (When I say “Rebbe Nachman’s works” I mean also those of Reb Noson, in particular Likutey Halakhot.) Of course, no two Breslovers understand the Rebbe’s teachings in the same way—which is exactly how he intended it, and exactly the way it oughta be.

As I wrote there, on 148West’s home page, I’m not here to preach. I’m here to teach, to share, to probe, maybe even to provide answers. The point is—and I firmly believe it’s the baseline of Rebbe Nachman’s mission—to help anyone and everyone Be. More. Jewish.

Which leads us in to our dvar Torah. Actualizing potential is the major theme of Likutey Moharan Lesson #66. Let’s take a look at a small section of the lesson (the start of §2):

The final outcome starts in thought. For example, when a person wants to do something, to build a bayit (house, home), let’s say, he must first think and consider what his bayit will look like. When he has a clear picture of what his bayit will look like, he can begin to build it. In this way, the ultimate product starts in the mind. And until the potential is actualized, the potential [bayit] is bound to the germ of the idea.

Part of what makes Likutey Moharan so powerful is the perspective it gives us for viewing life, on a grand, sweeping historical scale, on a personal, microscopic scale, and everything in between. For example, the bayit the Rebbe refers to is not just a physical structure, a yurt or an igloo. He means your ultimate bayit, the place you will reside for eternity.

Before we go on, let’s think about this vague word, “eternity.” The Steipler Rov, Reb Yaakov Yisrael Kanievesky obm (1899–1985), gave the following analogy to give us an idea of “how long is eternity.” Imagine, Planet Earth covered around and around by a pile of sand 10 miles high. Now, once every 10,000 years a bird flies in and takes away a grain of sand. How long will it take for the bird to remove all the sand? Eternity is longer than that. Back to our topic.

Did you ever think what your bayit will look like? One room for emunah (faith), one for tefilah (prayer), another for your kindness to orphans and one for your kindness to widows, to the poor. Rooms for the various areas of Torah you studied and others for Torah that you taught. And how well-lit will your bayit be? There’s an old Yiddish expression applied to a person who has passed on: May he have a lichtege Gan Eden, a bright Garden of Eden. You don’t want a small light bulb, do you?

So we need to spend time thinking about our future bayit. We’ve got to think about how we’re going to build it, and get started.

There’s another bayit that needs to be built. Although it doesn’t make sense to talk of God “actualizing His potential,” the world He created needs to actualize its potential. God created the world in order to “dwell” in it, which is one of the reasons we were commanded to make a Mishkan (Tabernacle) in the desert and build the Beit HaMikdash (Holy Temple) in Jerusalem. As we consider building our individual bayit, actualizing our personal potential, we should try our best to see how that fits with building God’s bayit, actualizing the potential of other people as well.

Because sometimes, I can develop and grow a good deal if I focus on myself. On the other hand, if I open myself to giving my time to others, I won’t get as far. but others will make progress that they couldn’t have without me. Some might make more progress than I ever could have made. And some may end up helping so many, many more people than I could ever have dreamed possible.

Thinking I’m making this up? Adam, the first human being, was to have lived for a thousand years. He didn’t keep them all for himself. He gave away 70 years of his life to King David, who was to have been stillborn. But by giving away his time—years, decades of his life!—Adam triggered a events that led to one person’s living a life in which he built the Kingdom of Israel, laid the foundation for the first Beit HaMikdash, wrote Tehillim (Psalms) and began the royal line that will lead to the Mashiach, may he come swiftly and soon, in our lifetime. Amen.

Based on Likutey Moharan I, Lesson #66

 

agutn Shabbos! Shabbat Shalom!

© Copyright 2013 O. Bergman/148West

Saving Money

Q. I wanted to know what the frum [i.e., ultra-Orthodox] world and the Breslov world thinks about putting away money in savings/401K plans.

I remember reading in Rabbi Nachman’s Wisdom (aka Sichot HaRan) #247, that the more money one has, the further his wealth is from him, with money in the bank being among the furthest away.  I thought, money in an “untouchable” bank would be considered even more removed.  What do followers of Rebbe Nachman take as an approach to long-term savings and the like?

A.

Good question.

Rabbi  Nachman’s Wisdom #247  is part of Rabbeinu zal’s overall message to diminish one’s money-lust. That is, somewhere along the line, most folk start to develop an idea like, “The more money I have, the stronger/worthier/real I am. Therefore, the pursuit of wealth is a worthwhile endeavor and goal.” That’s a big mistake and a waste of life. (Rebbe Nachman does say a person should work for his livelihood, but in service of God [e.g., to give charity], not in service of self or other people.)

If you look at the entire passage there, you’ll see that Rebbe Nachman is contrasting acquiring wealth with acquiring Torah. The more material wealth one has, the less direct his connection with it. On the contrary, the more Torah wisdom (not mere knowledge) one acquires, the more it is an actual part of him.

401Ks etc. are a [a] a matter of trust (how much a person trusts in God) and [b] how does the world work in our day and age. For most of us, our level of trust is such that we work for a living. A retirement fund is, to a degree, “working for your old age,” a future paycheck. Since this is a normal way of doing things for people with a normal degree of trust, it’s alright. It’s also smart.

By the way: Trust in God includes, “God gave me seikhel (intelligence). That means He wants me to use it. Having money for my old age, when I can no longer work, seems to be a good idea.”

Hoped this helped.

© Copyright 2013 O. Bergman