From a Torah perspective, we all have an innate sense of right and wrong. When we sit quietly, contemplating our priorities and values, most of us are moral and upstanding.
The problem is that we're not always sitting quietly in contemplation. So we go off the rails. Even though we KNOW we shouldn't act a certain way, we often go ahead and do it anyway.
Maybe it's eating french fries after the doctor warned against it. Maybe it's disrespecting a valued relationship. We know we shouldn't, but…….
Our fundamental moral compass isn’t askew; it’s our lack of consciousness.
When I'm fully aware – truly aware – of my gifts and values, I'm much more likely to honor them. When I'm actively conscious of my tremendous blessings, my life, family and friends, my actions will reflect that awareness.
The trick lies in maintaining an internal vigilance. And that’s easier said than done, since the human psyche naturally gravitates toward a back-of-the-mind, taking for granted, automatic-pilot operating system.
No wonder Judaism has so many awareness-triggers. When I walk into a room and see the mezuzah, it should raise my consciousness. The mezuzah reminds me that the room – bedroom, kitchen, den etc. – isn't simply a place to pursue a narrow, de-contextualized exercise (eating, sleeping etc.); it's a venue for pursuing my overall objective of a meaningful life (through eating, sleeping etc.).
My Tzitzit (the Biblically-required fringes that hang from the little 'Talit' I wear under my shirt) are a mnemonic, a consciousness-prod. When I see them, I need to remember I have a destiny and a reason for existence, and that my next actions should reflect that life objective.
So it's about consciousness.
If I check my 'consciousness meter' as often as I check for my wallet or keys, my 'internal traffic-controller' will perk up. I'll be able to consciously choose, and fully invest myself in, my next moves of the day.
When I’m actively focused on, and attentive to, how I’m living, I become more internally 'alive.' And in this journey of life, 'alive' is the way to go.
Rabbi Mendy Herson's Blog
Breathing Life Into Life
Indestructible
The Western Wall.
It’s World famous. A focal point of Jewish and global spiritual consciousness.
But what is it?
For eight hundred and thirty years, a Holy Temple (BeitHamikdash in Hebrew) stood as the center of the Jewish world. The Temple was more than a building; it was the supreme point of contact – the nexus - between the human and the Divine.
But what was, no longer is. We haven’t had a Temple for more than two thousand years. The Temple no longer stands, having been viciously destroyed by the Babylonians and later by the Romans. All we have is the ‘Western Wall’, a remnant of a retaining wall. That’s all.
So, is the Western Wall a place of national nostalgia, ground zero for our collective pining over a lost glory? Is it the symbol of our hopes for the future?
Yes. And Yes. But that’s not all.
The Western Wall is more than a psychological touchpoint. It’s a symbol of what STILL exists.
The Babylonians and Romans destroyed buildings, but they had no way to subdue the spirit which permeated the sacred structure. And it indeed persists. The Temple’s ‘body’ was destroyed but its ‘soul’ remains whole. So the Western Wall remains a CURRENT place of contact, an eternally fresh reservoir of Holiness.
The Temple’s soul is forever whole.
The Rebbe applies this principle to each of us, because we are each a ‘Holy Temple’, each of us a ‘Sanctuary for the Divine’.
When we look at ourselves honestly, we can sometimes see that our personal ‘structure’ is in disrepair. Impacted by the world’s negativity, selfishness and cynicism, our walls are worn down, and don’t protect our inner holiness. In a sense, our personal ‘Temple’s’ have been damaged.
But we each have an internal Western Wall. Despite it all, our soul is whole; our basic goodness, our intrinsic Holiness remains beyond any external contamination. Life’s ‘Babylonians’ and ‘Romans’ can do a lot of damage, G-d forbid, but they can’t touch your soul.
This Shabbos (17 Tammuz on the Jewish calendar) commemorates the day that our enemies breached Jerusalem’s walls, on their way to destroying the Temple three weeks later (on Tisha B’av, the 9th of Av).
We usually fast on this date, but not when it falls on Shabbos, in which case we postpone the fast until Sunday.
It’s a time of year to reflect on the world’s pain, and on G-d’s gift of an untouchable soul.
Wholeness resides in you. Bring it to the fore.
The Covenant
It was a poignant father-son moment, a powerful gift from leader to future leader.
That historic summer day in 1895, [Rabbi] Yosef Yitzchak Schneersohn, who would eventually be the sixth Lubavitcher Rebbe, was commemorating his fifteenth birthday. His father, the fifth Rebbe, Rabbi Sholom Dovber, took the teenager to visit the gravesites of their holy ancestors, the prior Chabad Rebbes.
Stepping into the cemetery’s small synagogue, the Rebbe approached the Holy Ark and opened its sacred doors. Borrowing imagery from the Biblical ‘binding of Isaac’, the Rebbe solemnly addressed his forebears: “I am bringing my son today for his 'Binding'…Abraham bound Isaac tightly…I, too, want my son's Binding to be appropriate and effective."
I understand the Rebbe to be saying: Just as Abraham secured Isaac in the family’s Monotheistic tradition, and in a relationship with the Divine, I am securing my son – your descendant - in a profound bond with his family heritage and their legacy of community leadership.
The Rebbe then went on to speak about commitment to doing the right thing, irrespective of how one feels at a given moment, by pointing to the Scripture’s language of “girding [one’s] hips with strength”.
Our bodies have some high-functioning organs, the Rebbe explained, like the brain and the heart. We also have some body parts with less complex character, like the hips and legs. Reasoning and feeling (brain and heart) are higher-order functions, while getting from place to place is more functional and comparatively simpler.
The Rebbe went on to explain that, at the same time, your legs are your body’s foundation. The brain and heart are sophisticated, but they stand on the firm support of legs. In that sense, the legs symbolize our concrete behavior. Understanding and appreciating the beauty of our spiritual world is a critical spice to life; but life’s foundation is our actions. Commitment to principled behavior is the foundation of a meaningful life.
Naturally, we prefer to fully appreciate the reason for a given action before we undertake it. We want to feel inspired and emotionally connected, and not act mechanically. At the same time, we shouldn’t simply postpone positive behavior and wait for our inspiration to kick in. We need to act.
So, how does one find the internal fortitude to persevere with proper conduct, if one isn’t feeling inspiration?
By "girding our hips with strength," i.e. by finding our deep core of commitment to following the guidance of our powerful history. The commitment – in and of itself – can be the trigger that activates our inspiration.
That is how a Rebbe framed with his son the covenant that Abraham forged for us all.
The Rebbe
This Shabbos, the 3rd day of the Jewish month Tammuz, we mark the Rebbe's 28th yahrtzeit. People often ask me to encapsulate the Rebbe's greatness, and I don't have an easy answer.
How to encapsulate the Rebbe’s myriad outstanding, let alone spiritual and academic depth I cannot even grasp?
Personally, when I think of the Rebbe’s presence, I’m immediately overcome by a palpable sense that the Rebbe deeply respected and valued every person, every living being, and every situation.
To the Rebbe, I truly mattered. And so did you. The fact that we existed, that G-d intentionally created each of us, gave every person de facto importance in the Rebbe’s mind. If G-d considered you important enough to create, there was absolutely no question as to your importance in the cosmos. With this as a point of departure, the Rebbe taught us that we faced a consistent existential challenge: Am I living up to my life's purpose?
G-d was cheering us on to meet our potential, but we needed to recognize the daily journey.
The Rebbe saw importance in every event and every interaction. There was no such thing as happenstance. If I bumped into you on a street in Manhattan, found myself with an extra hour on a layover in Frankfurt, or was faced with a sudden challenge in my life, I and the world needed to be better for it. In the Rebbe’s eyes, every situation beckoned: “engage me; embrace me as an opportunity for learning, moral growth and a better world”.
If life was intrinsically valuable, then every facet was necessarily important.
There were no throwaways in the Rebbe’s world. No irrelevant people. No shallow, meaningless exchanges. No 'flings'. No ‘vegging’ (rest, vacation and sleep were about recharging the batteries so as to more energetically re-engage life).
In our shaky world of impermanence, from disposable technology to empty relationships, the Rebbe was a Rock of Meaning.
Our world, your world and mine, NEEDS his energy. Take an opportunity – try theRebbe.org – to soak in his perspective.
Your life will be richer for it.
P.S.
For more insight into the Rebbe, join our luncheon/farbrengen - dedicated to the Rebbe's legacy - at noon this Shabbos