www.chabadcentral.org | Blogs | Rabbi Mendy Herson's Blog

THink You Can't? Think Again

Thu, 26 Jan 2012 7:21:00 AM

Most of us are familiar with Pharaoh, the villain of the Passover story. He tortured and enslaved the Jews, until G-d sent Moses to demand: "Let my people go!”. His country was ultimately decimated by ten plagues and the Jews were liberated.

The narrative depicts Pharaoh as stubbornly self-destructive. Why does he persist in his evil ways, when he knows that freeing the Jews will stop the plagues and ease his pain? Why doesn’t he just do the [self-serving] right thing?

A closer look at the Torah's narrative sparks an additional question. Scripture clearly says that G-d 'hardened Pharaoh's heart', reinforcing his stubbornness, and that was why he didn't acquiesce to

Moses’ demands. So if G-d messed with his mind and he was unable to make a good choice, why is he punished for making a bad one?

Here’s a way to understand Pharaoh, and simultaneously understand more about ourselves:

When a behavior brings painful results, it’s normal – even reflexive -to work toward modifying that behavior; we simply want to avoid the pain. But there’s an exception. It’s when we tell ourselves “I can’t change”.

Let’s say someone finds it difficult to show a spouse emotional support, and therefore catches marital grief. Or someone is less than diligent and consequently suffers at the office. The easy way out is to say “hey, this is the way I am” and then blame others for their lack of understanding.

This pain won’t bring behavioral modification, because the person seems himself as a victim of [other-inflicted] pain, rather than its cause; it’s all the other party’s fault.

That doesn’t mean the person can’t change; it’s just that he’s placed himself in a particularly non-growth-inducing spot. His self-righteousness/pain supports his illusion of "I can't change, so this isn’t about me".

That’s a way to understand Pharaoh’s situation. In response to Pharaoh's cruelty, G-d desensitized him enough so that the pain didn’t inspire him to change. Instead of digesting what he was doing to others, he chose to focus on ‘what was being done to him’. His own self-improvement wasn't on the table.

But G-d didn’t see him as incapable of growth; He demanded better behavior. Pharaoh just couldn’t find the strength to deliver. He didn't have the moral guts to find his better self.

That was then, this is now. Yet Pharaoh lives on in many of us.

Time for freedom.

My Pharaoh, Your Pharaoh

Fri, 20 Jan 2012 2:31:00 PM

I'd bet it's a common human experience.
You’re facing a decision. Something like: Should you stay a little
longer in the office or make it home for dinner with the family? You
consider the options: Are you rationalizing selfishness, or doing the responsible thing? You choose a course of action, believing that you've been honest with yourself.
Now, what happens when you come across new 'evidence' which shows that you're actually on the wrong path? What now?
That's where character comes in. People with moral strength have the guts to stop short and admit a mistake. They have the courage to change direction.
People with weak values keep boring ahead, irrespective of the facts.
It's what we call a Pharaoh personality.
Pharaoh obviously didn’t like the Jewish people’s presence in his
land, and that was a - or perhaps the - reason behind his evil
behavior. On the other hand, did you know that G-d told Abraham his descendants would be enslaved for four hundred years (Genesis 15:13-14)? Since it’s conceivable that Pharaoh was aware of this Abrahamic vision (would Abraham have kept it a secret?), perhaps Pharaoh thought he was doing G-d’s work! Implausible as it may sound, the question begs to be asked: Is it possible that Pharaoh – aside from personally disliking the Jewish people - thought he was doing G-d’s work, and helping the Hebrews live out their Divinely-ordained history?
No.
Here’s why.
Irrespective of why Pharaoh launched his slavery program, he was eventually confronted by Moses, a man who showed his G-dly credentials and gave him clear instructions: "Let them go. You’re doing something wrong. You and your people will suffer if you continue".
Yet Pharaoh continued. And Pharaoh suffered. But he refused to change course; it took ten devastating plagues to loosen his grip. What kind of a person looks facts (Moses’ message from G-d) and self-destruction in the face, and continues on his wrong-headed path?
A person who can’t admit he made a mistake. A person who can’t find the courage to change direction.
In this sense, Pharaoh lives inside many of us.
When you hand your inner Moses the reins of your life, you'll find the strength to rise above your personal Pharaoh, escape your individual Egypt and find the way to your own Promised Land.

When you look deeper, you’ll find that Torah's the story of your life.

Unscrambling Life's Messages

Thu, 12 Jan 2012 7:10:00 AM

A special person in your life leaves you a note: The letter V. A little later you find an E, then an O and then an L.

Hmmm..….

You now have four random letters in which you can find very little significance. What could they mean? Is it possible there’s no significance?

Suddenly it hits you. The letters spell the word LOVE.

Once you get the right perspective, and put the letters into proper context, they coalesce into a beautiful word, an affectionate communication, a stream of warmth into your life.

You actually live this every day.

Kabbalistically speaking, letters are a metaphor for the events and objects of our lives. In a world where meaning is hidden, we often see life as a de-contextualized jumble that doesn’t make much sense. So, do we just shrug our shoulders and assume that there’s no meaning to be found? Or do we keep searching for the message?

Let’s look at your day:
Say you'll be spending an hour with a client, or doing housework.
In and of themselves, such hours come and go; they’re unremarkable in the scope of your life.

Metaphorically, these mundane hours are meaningless, random letters.
But now put them into context: You were created by G-d for an objective that is important; it’s unique to you, which is why G-d found it necessary to create you. This doesn’t mean that your respective raison d' être necessarily entails headline-grabbing accomplishments. It means that G-d wants you and me to lead purpose-driven lives, focused on our responsibilities to our Creator and to the world around us. And to G-d, that’s really important.

When we’re mindful of this objective, and see our tasks – like a client meeting or laundry – as part of the trajectory toward a meaningful life, we’re achieving our goal.

Your day is full of letters; you just need to put them in context.

This is a fundamental function of prayer. In the contemplation of prayer, we take life’s details and frame them, forming beautiful sentences out of important letters. In that sense, prayer is redemptive; it releases events from the trap of meaninglessness, elevating them so that they’re re-experienced as part of a cosmically meaningful journey through life.

It’s up to you. Free yourself.

What would YOU do?

Thu, 12 Jan 2012 7:09:00 AM

A teenager is kidnapped by his brothers and sold into slavery. The youth works his way to freedom and scales his new land's socio-political ladder, eventually becoming the second most powerful man in the country.
Years later, facing a regional famine, the brothers travel abroad to buy supplies from a prominent political leader, who - unbeknownst to them - is the boy they once betrayed. A perfect opportunity for revenge.
What does he do? What would you do?
The drive for revenge seems natural. When someone is wronged, we want justice, to ‘get even’. Some may even see and 'honor' in 'avenging a wrong'.
But it's not that simple in the Torah mindset.
Revenge is a desire to hurt someone, just because that person has done harm. It's not about undoing the damage, it's about inflicting more pain. The desire for revenge doesn't come from a good place, and the Torah forbids it (Leviticus 19:18).
We certainly want Justice, and Justice sometimes hurts; but hurting isn’t the objective. Rehabilitation and moral cleansing, even if only on a soul level, is the goal.
So let's go back to the opening scenario, which actually describes our ancestor Joseph and the Biblical narrative of the interactions with his brothers. He had a great opportunity for revenge.
And how did he respond?
First, he managed to discern whether his brothers had changed. Did they regret what they'd done to him? Had they learned and grown from their negative experience? Once he was certain that they had spiritually evolved, and that they had grown through repentance, he revealed his true identity to them.
Then he shows us a Torah attitude. He tells them (Genesis 50:19:21): “Although you intended to harm me, G-d had a positive plan…”.
Fascinating.
Joseph doesn’t whitewash their behavior. He calls them out as people who had negative intentions. Their intentions weren't good.
At the same time, he looks beyond their choices. He doesn't give others the key to his life. He recognizes that his challenges have a purpose, and that the way he meets those obstacles fulfills his destiny. Joseph endures terrible pain and acknowledges it. But he refuses to be defined by it. He’s not gripped by self-pity or revenge.

Instead he says “G-d, if this happened to me in Your world, there’s got to be a purpose, and I’m going to find it.”

A profile of Biblical proportions.

Ready?

Sun, 18 Dec 2011 9:43:00 PM

Are you ready for Chanukah?
Chanukah seems simple enough: We light the Menorah, eat some latkes and play some Dreidel; then add gifts and a family get-together to round off your Holiday.
Actually, it’s much richer, and more complex, than that simple equation.
Take the Menorah, the shedding of illumination. What does that mean? By its Dictionary definition, to ‘illuminate’ means to cast light on something, as kindling a Chanukah Menorah illuminates a dark room.
But, illumination also means to brighten, in the sense that a smile brightens your loved one’s mood.
It means to clarify, in the sense that an insightful statement can resolve your friend’s scattered state of mind.
It means to ignite, in the sense that an inspiring word will spark your co-worker’s soul.
It means to enlighten, in the sense that finding purpose will illuminate your life, by dispelling the dark shadows of meaninglessness.
It means to make resplendent, in the sense that nurturing your spousal relationship will make its beauty shine in your life.
So illumination is a lot more than striking a match. It’s about connecting with transcendence, beauty and clarity.
And that’s what Chanukah is all about. The Hellenists had tried to gut Judaism of its ‘G-d element’; they permitted ‘rational’ Jewish practices, but forbade Divinity as part of the equation. But the Hasmoneans (Maccabees) understood that this struck at the soul of Judaism, and gutted the very rituals they ostensibly allowed. If one sees the world as an inherently meaningless sphere hurtling through space, then life is inherently meaningless, no matter what rituals one follows.
The Hasmoneans knew that G-d and Torah would bring Holiness to their lives, clarity to their quandaries, spark to their souls, and purpose to their worldly journeys. They knew that G-d is the indispensable ingredient for a genuine life of beauty.
The Hasmoneans also set the bar for future Chanukah celebrations. Brightening your living room is relatively easy illumination to accomplish. But achieving the more profound illumination, finding Higher Light and Connection, is more complicated than striking a match. It takes advance soul-searching and preparation.
So: Are we ready?

Deceptively Meaningful

Thu, 8 Dec 2011 10:02:00 AM

When I was a child, I begged my father to take me to a baseball game. I nagged and badgered like only a little kid can do. He has absolutely no interest in baseball. Zilch. He probably dreaded the idea of spending four boring hours at Shea stadium.

But he took me anyway.

In retrospect, others in the stands probably thought my father was an interested fan; but I know he wasn’t. He was there for one – and only one - reason: To make me happy. Tom Seaver was but a conduit to my father’s end game: Deepening his relationship with his young son.

Appearances can be deceiving; and sometimes that’s a good thing.

Sure, ‘deceptive’ is a negative word; ‘misleading’ doesn’t sound kosher either. But how do you describe an exercise which appears to be self-indulgent, but is actually being pursued for a higher purpose?

Deceptively meaningful? Meaningfully deceptive?

Here’s a more common example: You see someone eating a tantalizing meal, and assume it’s in the pursuit of self-gratification. What if she simply wants to be healthy so that she can actualize her purpose by leading a meaningful life? What of someone who works in business because he wants to honorably serve his customers? Because he wants to generously support his community through the money he earns?

These individuals may look like they’re serving themselves, but their high-minded intent makes them other-centered and G-d-centered.

This is actually the stuff of life: Pursuing exercises which have a meaningful essence, even though they look shallow on the outside.

We’re created as angels, and we’re not supposed to be sitting in prayer all day. Our purpose includes engaging the material world, whether it’s on Main Street or Wall Street. We need to pursue human endeavors; the trick – nay, the soul – lies in the intent of our pursuit. Are we conscious of our Higher Purpose? Do we guide ourselves by a Higher Code? If the answer is yes, then the pursuit– notwithstanding its appearance – is very much Divine.

As a people, we are known by the name of our Patriarch ‘Yaakov’ (Jacob). Linguistically, the word Yaakov connotes ‘deceptiveness’. Not pretty, on its face.

But in light of the above, it’s actually deceptively beautiful. Yaakov is a name that shouts our mission and calls us to action: Engage the world, but – while you’re doing so – don’t lose sight of life’s Higher Purpose.

The View from Jacob's ladder

Fri, 2 Dec 2011 1:22:00 PM

Your flight crew has asked the passengers to buckle their seatbelts. Airspeed has been reduced, and your flight begins its steady descent for landing.
From your window, you have a bird's eye view of people on the ground, going through their daily lives. You can see slow-motion Matchbox cars bringing people to their respective destinations.
You have a perceptual advantage over the people you're observing: On the ground, they can’t see how they fit into the picturesque countryside or the busy city. They can’t see the traffic miles ahead, nor what’s going on at the location they left two minutes ago.
Two vastly different perspectives:
The aerial view allows one to see a large swath in its entirety and within its landscape. You don't lose the forest for the trees.
The ground view gives you details that are critically necessary; yet these life-sized minutiae often fill your entire visual field, eclipsing the wide-angle perspective and its benefits.
We need both perspectives for purposeful living.
Imagine an aerial view of your life. What would happen if you stepped away from your immediate struggles - the ones so close to your face that they block out the light - to panoramically observe where you're coming from and where you're going? What if there were a transcendent perch from which you could 'modify your travel plans' and get you to your 'destination' more effectively? What if you could see your life – the ups and the downs - through a wide-angle lens, a context which could soften the pain of your immediate struggles?
Scripture tells us that Jacob had a dream in which he saw angels climbing up and down a ladder; the ladder had its feet firmly planted on the ground, while its top reached into the heavens.
The Kabbalists taught that this ladder, a bridge between heaven and earth, represents prayer. Prayer is the process of climbing higher and deeper within ourselves; it's scaling your psyche to find the holiest and G-dliest - unscathed by the world - place within yourself. Prayer is ascending Jacob's Ladder to find clearer perspective of my personal potential, my life on the ground, and where I can make some helpful changes.
Take some time to focus and go on up; you can see a beautiful life from up there.

Ingredients for a Loving Relationship

Sat, 26 Nov 2011 7:08:00 PM

Love: You know it when you feel it. Your heart feels like it’s surging, pumping on all cylinders, ALIVE.

Awe: You know it when you feel it. It’s what happens when you’re in the presence of a larger-than-life personality, someone so awe-inspiring that you’re totally overwhelmed, dumbstruck.

Awe is thrilling, but not in the same way as love. With awe, you're not in 'expansion mode'. You're not on fire. You don't feel like your heart is leaping out of your chest cavity. To the contrary, awe makes you emotionally stand back - shrinking - to make way for the awesome experience.

Think about how you felt when you saw your baby for the first time: Did you automatically reach out in love? Or did the sight make you pause in wonder, taking your breath away? That’s awe.

Awe is an emotional force that blows away your normal ego posture, that "I'm the center of the universe" attitude and creates a wide psychological berth for the object of your wonder.

So Awe and Love are two very different emotions, one expanding the sense of self and the other diminishing it, yet they work best in tandem.

Imagine if you took the opportunity to feel the wonder, the marvel of a loved one, before allowing the love to flow? With your ego mindset relaxed, your love can be so much more powerful.

Awe is a love multiplier. If love is deep connectedness, this combination gets you there.

This helps us understand Judaism’s two-pronged approach to forging a healthy relationship with G-d:

First, we put life on pause, contemplate the universe’s majesty, nature’s complexity and the miracle of the human body. We stand back in wonder at G-d’s creation.

One you've felt Creation’s majesty, you've made space within yourself; now you can begin to generate love and closeness.

An effective way is to consider your blessings. If you're reading this, you have the blessings of life and cognition. Contemplate those blessings and work forward; think about your life and its beauty. Thank G-d for giving you what you have.

You'll feel closer.

Our relationships, beginning with our relationship with G-d, is the stuff of life. They deserve work and mental exercise to make them the best they can be.

Awe and Love are the wings that can make them soar.

The Secret of Dikduk

Thu, 17 Nov 2011 5:19:00 PM

The seven year old boy was struggling with his Hebrew grammar studies.

[Hebrew is highly inflected, as compared to other languages. So Hebrew grammar - known as Dikduk - is especially complex and nuanced.]

It was 1887, and little Yosef Yitzchok, who excelled in all other areas of study, just couldn’t grasp Dikduk.
The boy’s father, Rabbi Sholom Dovber Schneerson (fifth Lubavitcher Rebbe), hired a skilled tutor; but the boy kept struggling. Crestfallen, Yosef Yitzchok approached his saintly father and - in tears – expressed his deep disappointment.

After serious thought, Rabbi Sholom Dovber spoke to his child (I’ll present the Rebbe’s words as I understand them, not verbatim):

Some areas of Torah are primarily conceptual; they may be a concept, an art or a skill. Other things are fundamentally ‘labors’; their focus is more on the task at hand, the brass tacks, than the particular philosophy.

Dikduk is a laborious, detail-focused pursuit (the word ‘Dikduk’ actually means punctiliousness, scrupulous attention to particulars). Grasping ideas and principles doesn't make you a Grammarian; it’s about bottom-line attention to detail and structure.

Apply the Dikduk attitude – meticulous, detailed mindfulness – to your internal posture, to measure how you’re feeling toward others. Bring the Dikduk attitude – careful attention – to the flow of your thoughts, guiding them to positive and productive places. Administer the Dikduk attitude – painstaking scrutiny – to your speech, assessing how you express yourself to others. Extend the Dikduk attitude –precise fine-tuning – to your actions, monitoring and refining the way you treat others.

The Rebbe was teaching this gifted little boy that the key to better living goes beyond the realm of theory. It lies in punctilious attention to detail. Sure, we need a theoretical framework; but the primary accomplishment lies in our concrete behaviors.

This opens a tiny window into how one Chassidic master raised another (decades later, Rabbi Yosef Yitzchok became the sixth Lubavitcher Rebbe).

It also reveals the spirit which Rabbi Sholom DovBer breathed into the Yeshiva he founded, Tomchei Temimim, which I was privileged to attend (the Rabbinical College of America in Morristown goes by that Hebrew name: Tomchei Temimim).

Today, the 20th of Cheshvan, is Rabbi Sholom DovBer's birthday, so we need to say “Happy Birthday Rebbe”.

Thanks for everything.

Occupy Sodom

Wed, 9 Nov 2011 7:06:00 AM

“What's mine is yours and what's yours is mine.”

Socialism simplified.

The Talmud calls this attitude “ignorant” (Avot 5:10). People need to have their personal space and property respected; it’s critical to their emotional health and their productivity quotient. To think otherwise betrays ignorance of the human condition (I saw living proof of this when I lived in Communist Russia for six months).

Sure, Torah strongly advocates sharing. But when I choose to share my assets with you, it’s my Mitzvah. It isn’t because you have a right to my things.

So what’s mine is decidedly not yours. And vice versa.

So the next piece of that Talmudic quote is puzzling. A opinion is brought: “What’s mine is mine and what’s yours is yours is a Sodomite characteristic (Sodom and Gomorrah are the epitome of selfishness and cruelty).“

What’s wrong with that statement? Why isn’t it a fair and normative way to live?

Torah wisdom teaches that the ‘Sodomite Syndrome’ actually has a potentially positive dimension to it.

Sodom symbolizes a strong sense of self, which can be a very good thing. It means having self-sustaining confidence. It means feeling that my life is between me and G-d, period. It means that I’m not intimidated by others’ opinions; comments from the sidelines may be instructive, but they aren't definitive.

My life. My struggle, My growth.

That’s healthy Sodom.

It’s independence as the opposite of dependency; , but not – and this is a critical distinction - independence as self-centeredness. It’s independence that grows into inter-dependence. Once I'm secure in my identity, I need to consider my responsibility to others.

As Hillel taught "If I am not for my myself who will be for me (independent sense of self)
but if I am only for myself what am I (interdependent sense of responsibility to others)."

Independence then interdependence.

"What's mine is mine and what's yours is yours" is only a negative attitude if there's a period at the end of that sentence. If we see each other as mutually exclusive – non interdependent - islands.

But what if there's a comma? What if I say "what's mine is mine and what's yours is yours, AND, since we share a responsibility to better the world, let’s commit some of our rightfully-owned resources and create a better society?

That’s capitalism with a soul.

Sodom redeemed.

Learning to Love

Wed, 2 Nov 2011 10:47:00 AM

What is love?

Love is closeness.

But it’s more. It’s committed closeness.

The heart’s warm flutter is often fleeting infatuation, here today and gone tomorrow. But love is something different. It’s substantive; it’s real. It’s a bond that stands strong in the face of day-to-day volatility, an emotional anchor that’s unshaken by life’s waves.

In Torah language, it’s called a Covenant (Bris in Hebrew), which is when two parties reach a deep, integral Oneness. It’s an authentic RELATIONSHIP.

That’s what Abraham had going with G-d. We, too, can each find this beauty in our own interfaces with the Divine, and with our loved ones.

But love is acually more than commitment. It’s other-centered commitment.

There’s a Chassidic story about a child who watches an adult catch and prepare a fish. Before his first bite, the adult exlaims “I love fish”. The child responds: “Sir, you apparently don’t love fish; for if you did, you would have let this one stay in the water. You actually love yourself, and this fish is just another avenue for feeding your self-love!”

Genuine love isn’t about us gratifying ourselves (although that may be a nice by-product). Love is about making space for the other’s needs; it’s about the other’s sensitivities becoming our personal concern.

Of course we need to look after ourselves too; but that needn’t be a contradiction to other-centeredness. If I take a day to care for myself, so that I am better fit to discharge my responsibilities to G-d and the world, I’m living a day of other-consciousness. Filling my needs is a necessary preparation for benefitting others.

Abraham modeled this attitude for us. His relationship with the Divine showed total commitment. He made genuine space in his life for G-d’s Will. And he had the ability to find meaning in everything he did; even his physical life, including his ‘self-gratifying pursuits’, were opportunities for deepening – and expressing - his relationship with the Divine.

That’s why G-d commanded him - and us - to embody the Covenant by marking an area of the physical body, and specifically an organ which is symbolizes the pursuit of pleasurable physical engagement. To Abraham, it was all about building relationships and making this a better world, all about the Covenant.

Abraham showed us it can be done.

Now let’s go live life as it’s meant to be lived.

There's More to Life Than the Fur Coat

Thu, 27 Oct 2011 10:20:00 AM

No, this isn’t a PETA essay or an Occupy Wall Street manifesto.

It’s a commentary on life, on what living should look like, and on what attitudes bring us the most inner peace.

Many of us work hard to upgrade our personalities, attitudes and habits. At the same time, we need to remember that none of us lives in a vacuum.

One can pursue self-betterment in a self-absorbed way, oblivious to the moral state of one’s surroundings. Or, one can approach personal development in a more broad-hearted way, seeking to better one’s self and one’s environment; a rising tide should lift all boats.

There’s an old Chassidic metaphor in this vein: When one is feeling cold in an un-heated house, there are two possible remedies: One can don a fur coat. Or one can kindle the fireplace and heat the house.

Similarly, one can take care to warm one’s own soul, or one can [also] try to brighten one’s environment. In Chassidic jargon, the former type of behavior is referred to as the ‘Tzaddik in peltz’ (Yiddish for: a righteous person in a fur coat) syndrome. That's when someone’s doing just fine……for himself.

Noah, who was certainly a G-dly person, is seen in this light. He remained spiritually unscathed by the immorality of his time; yet he didn’t impact his society. The moral people were saved on his famous ark; but it was just him and his family. That’s it.

The man apparently didn’t manage to convince anyone on the block, anyone at work, anybody else, to rise above the world’s immorality. He was spiritually warm, because he’d totally absorbed himself in his conceptual fur coat. But the world was none the better for it.

Torah thinking goes in a different direction. It has us being pro-active, engaging the world and improving it. That’s what we’re created to do; each of us in our own way.

From what I can tell, this is also the best way to find happiness. I think that people find their purest contentment when they’re doing something to help others, without self-serving motives, and without hope of a quid pro quo. Just unadulterated goodness.

So share the warmth. If a thought inspires you, if a Mitzvah moves you, share it with a friend.

You’ll feel lighter.

A Piece of the Rock

Wed, 19 Oct 2011 11:37:00 AM

This Thursday and Friday are a time to dance.

It’s the Holiday of Simchat Torah, when Jews throughout the world dance with the Torah.

The question is: Why?

We can understand Torah scholars, who reap the Torah’s intellectual rewards and feel a deep gratitude for this gift, dancing; it’s a natural expression of their appreciation.

But most people aren’t Torah scholars, and don’t necessarily appreciate the depth of Torah’s wisdom. Why should they be dancing? Practically speaking, what gift have they received? What appreciation can they express?

The fact is that the Torah is much more than a gift. Scripture (in a verse we’ll be reading this coming Friday) refers to the Torah as our ‘inheritance’, and that is fundamentally different than a gift.

A gift is something that one person gives to another, as an expression of the benefactor’s positive feeling.

An inheritance is also a transfer from benefactor to recipient, but on a very different wavelength.

According to Torah law, a deceased person’s assets automatically transfer to his heirs; even if there is no expression of will, even if we have no indication of the deceased’s wishes. It just happens (unless the decedent acts to stop or shape this natural transfer).

The Torah respects the natural flow from generation to generation. Conceptually speaking, one generation immediately moves in to fill the shoes of the departed one. Just like that.

In fact, the Hebrew word for ‘inheritance’ (nachala) is the same as ‘river’ (nachal), indicating the natural transition from one generation to the next.

This is why the Torah is called an ‘inheritance’. It’s ours, irrespective of whether we’ve taken actions to claim or deserve it. It passes from generation to generation, some appreciating it more than others. But it belongs to us all. Equally.

And, if you think about it, this IS something to celebrate. No matter how close you feel to the Torah right now, it’s your inheritance, so it’s yours.

Yours to claim, yours to study, yours to appreciate.

And no one can ever deny your fundamental right to it.

In a world of shifting sands and uncertainty, in a world where we’re looking for stability and permanence, you – believe it or not - have a ‘piece of the Rock’.

Enough said. It’s time to dance!

They Changed Our World

Fri, 23 Sep 2011 1:30:00 PM

Tomorrow – the 18th of Elul on the Jewish calendar - is a very special day.
It's a day when two luminaries, two spiritual masters who revolutionized the world, were born.
In 1698, [Rabbi] Israel Baal Shem Tov was born on this day; known as the Baal Shem Tov, he became the founder of Chassidism.
Exactly forty-seven years later, in 1745, [Rabbi] Schneur Zalman was born on the same exact day. A 'spiritual grandson' to the Baal Shem Tov, Rabbi Schneur Zalman - eventually known as 'the Alter Rebbe' - conceptualized the Chabad philosophy and launched the Chabad movement.

What does this all mean to me and you?

Everything.
These giants taught us how to see ourselves and the world.
There's only so much I can express in a deliberately brief e-mail.

Suffice it to say:

Seeing myself through their lens, I am never disconnected from my Creator, I am never disengaged from my Divine life-flow; so I am never without a call to meaningful living.
We are each a result of G-d's consistent desire that we exist. Since it follows that G-d brings us into existence for a purpose, we get a counter-intuitive perspective on life: It's dynamic, empowering, challenging; there’s always with an opportunity to realize our raison d' etre, and thereby touch the Divine.
No such thing as a hum-drum day, or an intrinsically meaningless life.
When we see someone else, even a stranger, we see someone whom G-d has created for a reason, and who - ergo - has a lifetime of goodness to bestow upon the world. A person who is a bundle of Divine potential, who is his/her own 'world of meaning'. A person who deserves respect for his/her Divine potential, and the recognition that helping him/her is more than a single act; it's support for an entire world of goodness.
If beauty is in the eyes of the beholder, I can't imagine a more beautiful way to see the world than through the lens of [Chabad] Chassidism.
So tomorrow's a really special day to celebrate.

A perfect time to think about these gifts to the world.

Happy birthday.

Shabbat Shalom

Rabbi Mendy

A Shot in the Arm for a Tired World

Fri, 23 Sep 2011 1:30:00 PM

This recession that just won't stop. Our political polarization that divides us in the name of liberty.

The Euro-zone meltdown. The Middle East on fire.

These aren’t just geo-political problems that hover above our ‘real’ lives. These are situations that filter down to you and me, and add to our 'normal' stresses and challenges.

All in all, the world has had a difficult, tiring year.

We need to open a fresh new page.

That’s why I feel like Rosh Hashana isn't coming a second too soon.

The High Holidays aren’t just about turning a page on the calendar, and looking ahead to the coming year. It's more than donning our finest and attending services.

All of that is [important] window dressing for Rosh Hashanah’s soul, it's primary theme: G-d’s Infusion of New, Divine Energy Into a Tired World.

Just as a sleepy person gets rejuvenated by a jolt of caffeine (or some good sleep!), an exhausted world receives a Divine ‘shot-in-the-arm’ every Rosh Hashana.

How does this work?

Kabbalistically speaking, the world is totally dependent on Divine energy, which G-d grants in energy-increments. Every Rosh Hashana, G-d breathes life into the world; and that keeps us juiced until the following Rosh Hashana.

But it’s not a purely automatic process. It’s actually very inter-active, and very much user-generated.

It’s up to us.

Rosh Hashana isn’t a spectator sport. It’s a drama, and you have a leading role.

Every year, as the High Holidays set in, it’s our individual job to take a moment – a genuine moment - to re-connect with ourselves, our purpose in life, and with our Creator.

When we renew our commitment to meaningful living, re-affirming our relationship with the Divine, G-d is overjoyed to reciprocate and grant us life – vigorous, sparkling, energized life – for a New Year.

The world re-energized. Our lives infused with new hope and vigor.

G-d knows we can use it.