Inner Stream - Insights into Torah

Chanukah: Naturally in Love with G-d

Rabbi Lazer — Sat, 17 Dec 2011 21:04:02 -0500

The Split

I once asked an audience to tell me which historical factor contributed most to our continuity and one fellow insisted that the correct answer was anti-Semitism. When the nations reject us we have no choice, but to turn inward. When the nations befriend and accept us we tend to blend into the global culture and dilute our own culture. The problem is that once we sacrifice our culture on the altar of globalism we lose our identity and without that there is little to keep our children involved. (1)

The story of Chanukah demonstrates this truth. About a century and a half before the Common Era Israel was under occupation by Syrian Greeks, who sought to impose their culture on our people. Sadly there was no intersection between the cultures of Hellenism and Torah, which left Jews with only two options: Assimilate into Hellenism or fight for Judaism on pain of death.

Indeed, the Jewish people split into two camps. There were those, who succumbed to the Greek overtures and assimilated and those who maintained allegiance to Torah Judaism. The Greeks treated Jewish Hellenists with friendship and granted them all kinds of freedoms. The Torah idealists, however, were persecuted by the Greeks and were forced to take refuge in the Judean Hills.

The split experience of our people at that time is emblematic of our history. When persecuted by others we tend to coalesce into a single unit and strengthen our bonds with G-d. When we enjoy prosperity and freedom we loosen the reins of our discipline, water down our commitment and soon thereafter assimilate.

Back To Chanukah

The observant camp eventually organized an army under the leadership of Judah the Maccabee. They engaged the enemy and miraculously defeated the larger Greek army. Returning to the Temple they found only one jar of unblemished olive oil with which to light the candelabra. There was enough oil for one night, but the candles would burn miraculously for eight days.

This miracle is the focus of our Chanukah celebration as we kindle lights for eight days. Our sages taught that the olive is a symbol for the Jew under oppression. Just as the olive produces its purest oil only when it is squeezed so do Jews elicit their purest dedication when they are squeezed. (2) By performing a miracle with the oil G-d seemed to be sending a message that championed those who chose oppression over Hellenism and loyalty over freedom. It was a Divine proclamation that their focused dedication had produced a bright and enduring spiritual energy that overcame its natural constraints and illuminated the night eight consecutive times.

The Olive and the Oil

King David’s wrote, “Your children are like planted olives around your table.” (3) We understand the symbolism of olive oil as explained above, but what does the olive symbolize?

The Talmud has a curious quote about the olive. “Eating an olive,” says the Talmud, “causes one to forget the Torah that one has known for seventy years, but drinking olive oil restores this Torah knowledge.” (4) Olives are free and whole, but olive oil emerges from a crushed olive. According to our earlier discussion this means that conditions of freedom can trigger neglect of Torah even after seventy years of study and observance, but when we are oppressed our connection with G-d is restored. If this is the case it begs an obvious question, why did King David choose the negative metaphor of olives rather than that of oil?

The olive obviously has a positive property in addition to its negative dimension for which reason David singled it out.

The olive is unique in that no other tree is grafted onto it because the hybrid produced by an olive and any other fruit is inferior to the pure olive. This is precisely like the Jew because though the Jew assimilates under conditions of prosperity, this is not the natural state of the Jew. Jews are by nature conditioned to remain loyal to Judaism and not intermarry or assimilate. Jews know that despite the glittering opportunities that the world offers, nothing compares to the dearest and highest values that are found in the Torah. Only the Jew was chosen to serve G-d through the Torah and only the Jew was chosen to serve as a light to the nations and this cannot possibly be substituted by anything else. (5) (6)

The olive thus has a dual message. On the one hand it is free and unencumbered, reflecting the kind of conditions that entice one to the forbidden and the non-kosher. (7) On the other hand, even the olive knows that it was neither designed nor intended to be grafted onto others. The olive remains alone. Unique. Above the pinnacle of all that is exalted.

A Loving Education

If the olive’s character is in the Jew’s nature why do we so often assimilate under conditions of freedom? It is because this nature is deeply embedded and must be nourished to be brought forth. How is this accomplished? How do we empower our children to enjoy Shabbat dinner when their favorite cartoon is on TV? What inspires our teenagers to opt for the Passover Seder on the night that Major League Baseball plays its opening game? What enables us to celebrate the lone Chanukah flame, when the glamorous and more colorful lights beckon outdoors?

King David enlightens us with the end of his statement, “Your children are like planted olives around your table.” When our children are raised around our table, a Jewish table that is kosher, holy and G-dly, they are like olive branches, which do not graft. If our homes are filled with love, warmth and devotion, if our children discern in us a passion for G-d and Torah, they will absorb it too. Their principles rooted in a sacred foundation that wavers in no storm.

If they are raised at our table, they will be olive branches. If they know that there is always a place for them at our table and a home for them in our hearts, if they discern the love, dedication and passion for G-d that permeates our very beings they will not be swayed by what’s beyond Judaism. Despite the temptations, they will remain true to their inborn nature, committed to their faith and dedicated to their tradition. (8)

The most obvious example was Joseph, who was appointed viceroy of Egypt. Joseph had every opportunity to break with his family’s tradition and embrace Egyptian culture, practice and faith, but he didn’t. Despite the acclaim, gratitude and appreciation he would have garnered Joseph remained a Jew. He was alone with his principles, alone in his practice, alone in his faith, but he never wavered. (9) (10)

Footnotes

In June of 1967 Jews across the world trembled with fear for our country was in peril. An unprecedented unity gripped the Jewish world as they streamed to the Synagogue in droves. This powerful unity sadly unraveled shortly after the war. The split between our factions asserted themselves once again and we quickly turned divisive. The story is told that when Napoleon invaded Russia in the 18th century Jewish rabbis were undecided which outcome would be better for the Jews. If Napoleon would defeat the Czar, enlightenment, freedom and tolerance would arrive to Russia, which would benefit the material and financial standing of the Jews, but it would also threaten the pure and single minded focus of the Russian Jew to Torah.
Babylonian Talmud, Menachot 53b.
Psalms 121
Babylonian Talmud, Horayot 13b.
This is encapsulated by the Talmudic dictum,” just as there is no grafting an olive so is there no inferior property in [the nature of Israel.” Jerusalem Talmud, Kilayim 5:7.
This is in addition to the Midrashic Dictum (Shemot Rabbah 36:1 “Just as oil doesn’t mix with liquids so do Jews not mix with the nations.” This statement is not surprising since it discusses oil, which is the metaphor for a Jew in suffering and we already know that the best of the Jew comes out when squeezed. What makes the Jerusalem Talmud statement unique is that it claims that even the olive, which represents the Jew in times of freedom, is also designed by nature to remain unencumbered.
This is indicated by the fact that the olive is sour whereas its oil is not.
Note the statement in the Zohar (III p. 126b) “Just as the olive remains on its branch despite the storms of winter and the heat of summer and emerges as a precious fruit… so are the children of a modest woman.”
Today, once again, we are fortunate to live in conditions of prosperity and acceptance. While it is true that intermarriage and assimilation have reached record numbers it is also true that we are in an unprecedented era of Torah study and observance. Since the beginning of our Diaspora, there have never been as many Academies of higher Torah learning and as many strictly observance Torah Jews.
This essay is based in part on a talk delivered by the Lubavitcher Rebbe of blessed memory on the 15th of Shevat, 5732.

Sukkot: In the Sukkah There are No Strangers

Rabbi Lazer — Sun, 09 Oct 2011 14:56:12 -0400

Sharing Humanity

Have you ever experienced a bond of common humanity with a perfect stranger? One moment you were a stranger the next moment you were one, caring as much about what happened to him as to yourself. Under ordinary circumstances this common bond doesn’t surface, but under extreme circumstances it can.

One such example was in the aftermath of 9/11. Perfect strangers put themselves in harm’s way to help others in need. People, ensconced in the safety of their homes saw the towers come down and felt compelled to help.

One story that recently came to light involves the sea evacuation of nearly half a million people. Many who escaped the towers made their way south to the sea walls where they realized something New Yorkers hardly take notice of, Manhattan is actually an Island. The bridges and tunnels serve as such efficient conduits into Manhattan that no one notices that it is in fact sea locked.

When the towers were attacked the tunnels and bridges were shut down. Those who tried to leave the island found themselves stranded ashore and they mobbed whatever ferry and tugboat they could find. The coast guard put out a call for help and within ten minutes the waterways were dotted with more crafts than the eye could count.

People came from all over to help. Keep in mind that no one knew the extent of the danger and boat crews had reason to fear an attack against their boats. Yet, rather than looking for shelter these ordinary Americans stepped up and plied those water ways all day, executing the largest sea evacuation in history.

At such times we cannot sit back in comfort ignoring another in need. We can no more turn from them than from ourselves. We feel their pain as if it were ours because the intangible chords of our common humanity come to the fore. It forges bonds between perfect strangers and creates a family that never was.

Disaster brings out the best in us. It brings into sharp focus that despite the separation of body our common humanity is one. We saw this in New Orleans in the aftermath of Katrina and we saw this in Thailand in the aftermath of the Tsunami. Perfect strangers made their way to Haiti to help rebuild from the earthquake and to Japan to help them recover.

Happily it is not only disaster that brings out our common spark it is also joy. Take for example the feeling of elation that sweeps across a grandstand when the home team wins. Under these circumstances it is quite common for perfect strangers to celebrate together.

In the moment, it is perfectly natural for them to enjoy their mutual elation though moments earlier they were perfect strangers. When the moment passes and the emotions calm down their separateness will assert itself again and they will resume their distant roles.

In the Sukkah

In Judaism too there can be separateness between us in the Mitzvot that we perform throughout the year. Good deeds must be performed individually, my good deeds don’t count for you and yours don’t count for me. If I tried to sneak into your prayer shawl while you were wearing it I wouldn’t receive a Mitzvah. If you tried to shake my Lulav while I was shaking it I wouldn’t receive a Mitzvah. Just as we can’t eat for each other so can’t we pray or learn for each other.

The Sukkah, a hut covered by foliage, in which it is a Mitzvah to sit during the festival of Sukkot, is the only exception to this rule. It is the only Mitzvah that it is performed as one. You and I can perform the very same Mitzvah in the very same Sukkah at the very same time.

We don’t each require our own Sukkah. I can walk into yours and you into mine. The Sukkah does not have to expand to accommodate me and does not have to shrink when you depart. So long as there is room in the Sukkah for another we can share the time and space of this Mitzvah with another.

I might even suggest that when many people shake the same Lulav, multiple Mitzvot are performed by multiple people, but when many people sit in the same Sukkah simultaneously, a single Mitzvah is performed collectively by a single group of people. In this Mitzvah our souls coalesce. We become one.

Full Coverage

The Sukkah brings us together because of its extraordinary holiness. Just like the hidden cords of our common humanity emerge when matters of enormous urgency and import dwarf our immediate and personal concerns so does the Sukkah’s incredible holiness bring out our common spiritual oneness. What about the Sukkah hints at the enormity of its holiness?

It is that the Sukkah is the only Mitzvah that encompasses the entire body. It is not performed by any one limb or set of limbs, but by entering fully into it, by allowing our entire body to be absorbed by the Mitzvah. That is to say that the Sukkah is suffused with a Divine sanctity so rarified and transcendent that it cannot be imbued into us. Rather, we are absorbed into it.

The Sukkah encompasses us so completely as to draw us away from our personal interests and focus us exclusively on the Mitzvah. Once we are in this mindset we can make room for another. The moment the Sukkah is not about me, but about setting my needs aside to be encompassed by holiness, there is no reason for the Sukkah to be only for me. In other words, if it is not exclusively about me, it need not be exclusively for me. It is for us all.

After 9/11 New Yorkers came together because they were collectively absorbed by the enormity of the situation. In the Sukkah our souls coalesce because we are collectively absorbed by the enormity of its holiness.

This is why the Sukkah is a place of hosting, a happy place where family, friends and guests gather to perform a Mitzvah of unification. Sukkah is the Mitzvah of being. It doesn’t require doing; all that is required is being - in the Sukkah. And when it is just about being, room can be made for all beings. Even perfect strangers become one with us in the Sukkah. For in the Sukkah there are no strangers.

High Holiday Greeting 5772

Rabbi Lazer — Wed, 05 Oct 2011 12:58:24 -0400

The High Holiday liturgy often makes use of our Biblically prescribed designation as G-d’s children. We remind G-d of the natural love that fathers have for children and beg Him to see us in that light even if our behavior doesn’t reflect the love we have for Him.

In light of our preoccupation with children during this holy time I want to devote several lines to the importance of children. Having and raising children is life's our most important endeavor. If at the end of life you were asked about your proudest accomplishment, would you respond with the size of your business, the opulence of your home or the children you raised?

As we step back and reflect during this period of reflection we do well to ask ourselves if the time we devote to our children is consistent with the importance we attach to them. Do we spend more time with our children than with any other task in life? When we have extra time, do we spend it with the children or on the golf course? Do our children know that no matter how busy we are we will always set aside time when they call? Do our children know that no matter what they do we will always love them? Do our children know that no matter what trouble they face we will always support them? Most importantly, do our children know that no matter what it costs us we will always be there for them? Do they know that their interests always come first? That for example, being at a game or performance that is important to them is a higher priority to us than meeting a client?

The other side of this coin is how much do we know about them? Do we make it our business to know their friends? Do we offer guidance when we feel their friends mislead them? Do we chat with their teachers and have a strong idea of what goes on in their classroom? Do we know their hopes and plans for life? Do we know their fears and concerns? Do we know if someone has hurt or abused them? Do we know if they are involved in an addiction or obsession? Do we know how they spend their free time?

Here I don’t mean to ask if we are successful sleuths in our children’s lives. I am much more interested in asking whether our relationship with our children is such that they willingly, trustingly and lovingly share this information with us.

Conversely, do our children receive structure and guidelines from us? Do we offer discipline as well as love? Have we learned the delicate art of parenthood or have we become their friends? Because our children receive plenty of friendship from their friends, from us they need a parent.

Let us remember that what we do for our children will affect the rest of their lives. There is nothing that impacts us more than the treatment we receive from our parents in childhood. If we feared our parents in our youth we continue to fear them in adulthood. If we trusted and loved them as children we trust and love them as adults. The degree to which our parents trust us directly determines the extent of our self confidence and esteem.

We all know how much we were affected by our parents. Let us not forget how much we mean to our children.

In the coming year of 5752 let us resolve to be better parents. If your children are older, remember that it is never too late. If G-d has yet to grant you this precious blessing offer your love to another’s child – I don’t need to tell you how impactful such love, guidance, care and concern can be – to any child.

Rosh Hashanah: Making A Tzimmes of Tzimmes

Rabbi Lazer — Sat, 24 Sep 2011 23:24:30 -0400

Rosh Hashanah if filled with traditional dishes and culinary delights. But Rosh Hashanah is about so much more than good food. It is a day of prayer and repentance. How do we reconcile both elements, the somber and celebrative, of the day?

Devarim: Whom Do You Love?

Rabbi Lazer — Sat, 30 Jul 2011 23:37:34 -0400

How can we recapture the sacred passion that our ancestors experienced in the Temple while we are still in the diaspora?