The Halachos of New Year

Over at Hirhurim, (R’ Gil Student’s blog), Rabbi Michael Broyde has a good analysis of the halachic issues regarding “celebrating” secular holidays.

Here’s an excerpt:

It is quite clear that on a historical level that Catholic Europe celebrated New Years day religiously for centuries. Indeed, consider the simple remarks of the Rama writing in the Darchei Moshe YD 148 quoting the Terumat Hadeshen. He states:

It is written in the Terumat Hadeshen 195 that even nowadays one who wants to send [gifts] on the eighth day after Christmas which is called New Years should send such [gifts] during the day before [December 31st] and not on the day of the holiday, itself. And if the day before the holiday falls out on Shabbat, one may send on the day of the holiday, itself as there is a matter of hatred [eiva] if one sends later than that or more before then.

While the Rama in the Shulchan Aruch (YD 148:12) does not quote this formulation exactly, it is clear to me that this is function of censorship within the Rama and not because the matter is in dispute. According to Rama, New Year’s day is a Christian Holiday (indeed the formulation in the Terumat Hadeshen makes it clear that we are discussing the eighth day of Christmas as much as New Year’s day) whose celebration must be avoided and can only be marked when long term life threatening hatred to our community will result if gifts are not given.

On the other hand, the reality seems to have completely changed. New Year’s Day – like Valentine’s Day and unlike Christmas – seems to have completely lost its Christian overtones.[4] Even in the deep Christian South where I live there are no indicia that connect New Years Day to Christianity. The “first generation” Hindu and Muslim communities in Atlanta – who would never celebrate Christmas – have New Year’s Eve parties. It is obvious that the status of New Year’s Day has changed in the last three hundred years.

Indeed, in contemporary America there is little religious content or expression to New Year’s Day. Few would classify it as a religious holiday, as there is a clear secular method and reason to celebrate New Year’s day, and thus it has lost its status as a Christian Holiday. Rabbi Feinstein notes this directly himself in Iggerot Moshe (Even Haezer 2:13). He writes with regard to New Year’s:

The first day of the year for them [January 1] . . . is not prohibited according to law, but pious people [baalei nefesh] should be strict.

This insight, written in 1963, is even more true nowadays. The Christian origins of New Year’s is even more cloaked now than a half century ago.

Read the whole post here.

Chanukah: Overcoming Our Greekness

By Rebbetzin Tziporah Heller
Dear friends:

Chanukah is here!

When you think of the victory of light over the darkness that the ancient Greeks tried to spread, you can’t help but think of the world as it is today, sit by the light and know that there is light in the darkest times.

Everything that we think of as “light,” becomes “dark” in a world in which there is no spirituality. The Greeks weren’t so different than today’s “spokesmen”. They saw the human being as the world’s center.

Everything that makes you a member of a unique people demands that you see things very differently. You didn’t emerge as a Jew out of nowhere. G-d promised the patriarchs that the traits that they developed would live in their descendants beyond their lifetimes. Their heritage is reflected in our value system.

The three most severe sins are idol worship, sexual immorality, and murder. Avraham’s dedication to chessed (kindness) gives us the fortitude to resist temptation to the sins of sexual immorality. You can’t be a giver and at the same time an exploiter; the Greeks negated this principle completely. To them, any relationship that gives gratification to the person more in power is legitimate and healthy.

Today the plague of intermarriage is the way secular humanism, an offspring of Greek thought, is still conquering us, not physically but by making our uniqueness as a people irrelevant. It feels like the most normal thing in the world.

Yitzchak’s dedication to G-d was absolute. The ultimate “idol” is human ego. The moment that Yitzchak showed his willingness to give his life to do Hashem’s will, he transmitted the ability to stand up and deny every possible form of idol worship to his descendants.

The Greeks’ obsession with defiling the Bais HaMikdash showed how completely they understood (not necessarily consciously) that it opposed everything they stood for. It was a place of miracles, awareness, depth, joy! The core of all of this was a transcendental, invisible G-d who could never be totally understood even by the greatest human minds. But the heritage that the Greeks left us is the way looking at every religious ritual as something irrelevant at best and contemptuous at worst. The only god they and their descendants still worship is human ego.

Yaakov grasped the nature of the soul and its eternal connection to G-d. He could never justify murder. By definition, murder means killing someone who is of no threat to you. That would mean somehow seeing him as “unnecessary” in the greater scheme of things. Yaakov saw other people as eternal, precious, and attached to G-d. To the Greeks, human life had only relative value. They habitually abandoned deformed infants to die of exposure on their hauntingly beautiful hillsides.

The clash between these cultures continues.

These issues are not new. The Greek exile is very much with us emotionally and sociologically. The issues are still the same.

There is a fourth issue as well, one that you have to take to heart if you want to make a change. The Haftorah (prophetic portion read after the Torah reading on Shabbos) tells us not just about the three grave sins, but also of one that is worse still. It is oppression of your fellow man. In a similar vein, the sages tell us that there are three cardinal sins, idol worship, sexual immorality, and murder, but that lashon hara parallels all of them in its gravity.

Lashon hara means saying negative or damaging things about your fellow Jew for no positive purpose. It reflects disintegration of our sense of peoplehood, and our grasp of the unique spirituality of each one of us. This is the tikkun that we face now more than ever, because “fixing” the other issues is almost impossible without an underlying sense of love and unity.

Yosef epitomizes both. His early revelation of his dreams reflected not (as people think) his ego as much as his sense of responsibility for his brothers. This comes out more when, as the later parshas reveal, he was able to put aside every normal human desire to humiliate them in return for their betrayal. His sense of their significance was based on his recognition of what it meant to be part of the Jewish people.

In Yosef’s own moment of temptation, when Potiphar’s wife tried to seduce him, what saved him was seeing Yaakov’s image before his eyes. Yaakov was able to pass on to his children what the glory of being a human being is really about. The reason that Yosef resisted her (even though, as the Midrash says, she threatened to have him tortured to death), was that immorality would defile him as a human being. His esteem for his own humanity was the basis of his esteem for his brothers.

Chanukah is the time when you can look at the light of the menorah, and let it reflect the light of your soul, and the souls of the people in your life! Enjoy watching the flames, eating the latkes and/or sufganiot, and have a great holiday.

Love always,

Tziporah

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The Phases of the Newly Observant

By Aliza Bulow

A general look at the developmental stages of the baal teshuva

I have spent over 30 years in the world of baal teshuvas, as both an emerging baal teshuva myself, and as an educator and guide for hundreds of other baal teshuvas. Over the years, I have identified several stages and general commonalities in the process of becoming a baal teshuva. Identifying these stages are a way to have a general look at the process of development of the baal teshuva, but it must be understood that each person is individual and each experience as unique as the person. Some will linger in a particular stage, while others will skip it completely. Some will pass through each one in a linear fashion, while others will move back and forth, perhaps several times. The following is meant to be a general guide to help parents and friends, and even the baal teshuvas themselves, understand what might be coming next.

Phase One: The Beginning

There are many reasons why a person chooses to pursue a different pathway in life. A desire for meaning, a search for truth, a yearning for roots, a sense that “something is missing” or that “there must be more to life than this”, a wish for community, or a need for structure can all be stimuli to begin the baal teshuva journey. Sometimes the search is preceded by a trauma, sometimes by a romance, sometimes it is a slow evolution of ideas that have been brewing for years, and sometimes it is a jump into the exciting and alluring unknown.

The first phase is characterized by curiosity and exploration. This phase may have been preceded by curiosity and exploration into other religious or spiritual pathways, so it may not be phase one of a specific person’s spiritual search, but I am calling it phase one for our purposes, with the understanding that a prerequisite to phase one is the choice of a Jewish pathway.

During this phase, one would likely read books, research on the internet, ask questions, attend classes, seek a teacher, and possibly take a short trip to Israel. The goal of this phase is to learn enough to confirm the choice of a Jewish pathway.

Phase Two: Wonder and Awe

In this phase, the person has learned enough to be in awe of all there is to know; they marvel at the vastness, and wonder at the depth. Often, instead of their curiosity being sated by previous study, it becomes even more voracious. This phase is often characterized by a single mindedness in seeking information and educational experiences. It can be very intense for some, and it may be a little trying for those living in that person’s environment.

Phase Three: Trepidation and the Beginnings of Observance

Taking on some of the Jewish practices may have already begun slowly in phase one, or more quickly in stage two. It is characterized by the wary tasting of mitzvah, commandment, and observance. One may begin by eschewing pork or shell fish, or by adding other observances of kashrut, the kosher laws, by increasing attendance at the synagogue, by instituting a regular prayer practice, by dressing differently, by regularly attending a Shabbos, Sabbath, meal, by tithing one’s earnings or by observing any number of other mitzvot, commandments.

The trepidation comes from two main sources. The first is internal: “Do I really want to commit to this? What will my life be like if I take this on? What if I take it on and can’t keep it up?” The second is external: “What will my friends think of me? How will this impact my work/studies? What will my employer/professors/parents think? What if I make a big deal over this and then find I can’t keep it up?”

It takes a lot of courage to make a change, especially in the face of unchanging or even disapproving friends and family. Even where one may feel that the baal teshuva’s practices are unnecessary or even foolish, one can admire the courage and character necessary to take on and maintain those practices.

Phase Four: Accelerated Acceptance and Incorporation of Jewish Practice

In this phase, the new baal teshuva seems to be adding new practices almost as fast as they learn about them. Of course, the pace is different for each individual: for some “total” acceptance and integration of observance takes years. For others, it can be a matter of months, especially for those who are participating in a school experience in Israel.

For the baal teshuva, there is often a feeling of exhilaration during this phase. It is exciting, almost intoxicating, to constantly learn and incorporate newness into one’s life. This is true for the sports enthusiast, the mountain climber and the scientist as well. Part of the human experience is the desire to move into the unknown and take charge of it. This part of human nature is uniquely nourished during this phase of exploring and taking on of “new” mitzvahs.

In addition, in circles where the baal teshuva is attaching his or herself to an observant community, they often experience a very high approval rating from that community during this process. Some community members see it as the fruit of their educational efforts—everyone likes to see their seeds blossom. Others feel an affirmation of their own choices when someone “new” enters the fold, and still others are excited by their beliefs that the world is that much closer to its ultimate purpose when another Jewish soul behaves in congruence with its mission. Many baal teshuvas are encouraged and buoyed by the applause and approval they receive throughout this phase.

Variations on Phase Four:

While this phase is characterized by an accelerated and, most often, unabated taking on of new practices and observances, it may have some distinct variations:

Variation A: Naïve Embracing, Submission and Over-Submission

For some, phase four can be like a whirlwind. It can happen quickly, sometimes a bit too quickly. It is during this phase that family members might feel like their loved one is part of a cult. They may see what looks like a blind following of a charismatic teacher and see their loved one changing dramatically almost overnight.

In some of these cases there is a naiveté that interacts with an individual’s emotional needs that can lead to a submission to Jewish law and even to an over-submission. This can be exacerbated and accelerated by the accolades the new baal teshuva is receiving from their new friends or community and by the emotional holes those accolades may be filling.

The antidote to this sometimes worrisome phase is education. The more one learns, the more one develops the intellectual connection, the more one’s emotions can be tempered and balanced. Emotions can catapult one into growth, but only knowledge, perseverance and commitment can sustain it. Lack of appropriate education will likely lead to inappropriate or rigid observance. In time increased education will most often lead to a healthy balance.

Variation B: Missionary, Educator and Enforcer

During phase four, some move from excitement to zealotry. This variation can be quite annoying for those who have to live through it. The new Baal teshuva can begin proselytizing friends and family members. They can be quite passionate about the need for you to change your life. They can become preachy, constantly offering G-d’s point of view about everything from politics to what is in your grocery cart. Often when manifesting this stage, they are undereducated and don’t know enough to share such opinions even if G-d actually did “feel” that way.

Or, they can so admire their teachers, and so desire to be like them, that they fool themselves and believe that they are actually emulating them by (prematurely) taking on the role of educator. Every conversation can be seen as an opportunity to educate. Every encounter is a chance to not only show what they know but to convey the ultimate truth of the universe.

Perhaps most annoying of these three related variations is the Enforcer. This usually short lived phase sometimes occurs when the new baal teshuva learns about the mitzvah of rebuke, tochacha. In the perfect Torah-based society, there are no police. Everyone is accountable to G-d and usually takes their responsibility seriously. For those who fall down on the job, it is the duty of everyone to prop them up, in fulfillment of the dictate that “all Jews are responsible one for another”. This propping up can mean reminding a neighbor of the correct law or its application, correcting someone when they are wrong or, in rare cases, preventing someone from transgressing by force. Only a fraction of these laws can be kept today and the ways that they are kept are few and tricky. Until a new student learns the nuances of adherence to these laws in his or her community, they can make a lot of imprudent and foolish mistakes.

The paths of Torah are pleasant, if the baal teshuva is not behaving pleasantly, they need to learn and absorb more. The antidote to all of the above variations is time, maturity and more education.

A conversation with the new baal teshuva’s rabbi or teacher may also be helpful. If a conversation with your child’s rabbi is not productive, seek another orthodox rabbi with whom you can feel a sense of rapport. An orthodox rabbi, or rebbitzen, rabbi’s wife or female Torah teacher, familiar with baal teshuvas, can give you an important perspective.

Variation C: Overwhelm

As explained, phase four may bring about a rush of excitement and a quickened pace of adding new observances. In some people, this leads to feeling overwhelmed. While everyone must set their own pace, feeling overwhelmed is a sure sign that the pace is too fast. While one may feel emotionally ready or intellectually convinced that a Torah life is the best choice for them, it still takes time to make the changes. New practices need to be introduced at a pace the individual can digest and absorb.

When counseling people who want to speed things up or who are unsure of the pace they should set, I share with them the advice that one of my teachers, Tehilla Jaeger shared with me. “You should be somewhere between comfortable and overwhelmed. If you are totally comfortable, you can probably push yourself a little harder. If you are overwhelmed, you need to slow down a little bit. Take baby steps.”

Phase Five: Plateau

For the average baal teshuva (as if there could be such a thing) phase five creeps up on them. The rush of conquering new territory dissipates; the hands that had been applauding them so wildly begin to silence. They may feel that Judaism has lost some of its fun. Often they may stumble blindly in this phase not even knowing that they are going through a normal part of the process.

Phase five is plateau. After what is usually several years in phase four, the baal teshuva has become accustomed to feeling a sense of excitement in mitzvah observance. Life is often very rosy when everything is new and fresh. As the new baal teshuva becomes an acclimated baal teshuva, and life begins to settle into more of a normal routine, albeit a new normal, it can become a little more difficult. The daily, weekly and yearly practice can sometimes feel like a grind.

The same community people that offered so much encouragement in the beginning phases now expect the baal teshuva to be able to handle everything on their own. They expect them to tow the community line and integrate, often expecting the experienced baal teshuva to take on the community’s behaviors and attitudes. The community members often forget, or never realize, that the baal teshuva can never totally be like them because they have a different background.

Since this phase usually happens after several years, it is often accompanied by a relaxation of some stringency in Jewish practice. Some confuse this relaxation with “back sliding”, but usually it is the result of increased Jewish education and exposure to varied practices that still fall within the realm of orthodoxy. Finally, the baal teshuva is ready to make some educated decisions about which practices they want to make permanent and which practices may be customs that they choose not to keep.

This is the time of settling, where one’s personality in relationship to one’s education and experience emerges more fully. For many, this is the litmus test. Will they be able to carry some of that newness and excitement into the routine of regular Jewish life? Will there be a freshness in their practice? Do they even want that? What will they look like as they become “normal”?

Hopefully, if you managed to stay connected during the earlier stages, this is where your relationship can become even stronger. Your child or friend can emerge more pleasant, refined, and more at home and confident with themselves within Judaism.

Phase Six: Disillusionment

Not everyone experiences disillusionment, but for some baal teshuvas, this is a watershed stage. It turns out that people are people in every group, even among orthodox Jews. This discovery can be particularly painful for a baal teshuva.

Many baal teshuva are idealistic, thoughtful, careful and tenacious. They often possess these qualities in greater quantity than the population at large and it is often because of these qualities that they became observant in the first place. Also, people often gravitate to those with similar qualities for friendships and relationships. So, many baal teshuvas live in a more idealistic, thoughtful, kinder, friendlier world. It can be particularly jarring, therefore, when an observant Jew behaves contrary to Torah ideals, desecrates the name of G-d and the reputation of the Jewish people. When this happens disillusionment may occur.

There are as many responses to disillusionment as there are causes. The following are five common responses:

Some people struggle to maintain or even let go of observant practices.

Some people remain observant and become bitter.

Some people remain observant but their practice becomes robotic, devoid of feeling but anchored by responsibility.

Some people remain observant and loose the idealistic hopefulness of the baal teshuva.

Some people remain observant and become stronger. They use the experience to learn more about Jews, Judaism and themselves and make a commitment to work harder to bring both themselves and the world to perfection.

The Final Phase: Total Blending

I am reminded of the scene in the movie My Cousin Vinny where Vinny and his girlfriend get out of his car in the sleepy southern town wearing full leather outfits and fashionable dark sunglasses. He tells her to try and fit in. She looks him up and down, looks at the surroundings and says, sarcastically, “Yeah, you blend!”

If you know the scene, you know what I mean. Baal teshuvas can never truly blend. Sure they can dress the part, and they can learn the lingo, and they can set up their homes to reflect their education and values. They can send their kids to religious schools, they can carefully keep TV out of their homes and lives, they can skip movies and other forms of not-so-kosher entertainment, and they can learn Torah. But, at some point in their lives, they still saw My Cousin Vinny, or something like it.And probably not one thing like it, probably a lot of other things too. And all of those scenes, and all of that language and all of that music is still somewhere in their heads.

My kids always wonder how I know all the songs they play in the supermarket (the oldies). They never heard them in our home and at that time, the only music we listened to as a family was classical and Jewish. I listened to them in high school, of course. They were part of my life; I was glued to Casey’s Coast to Coast Count Down of the Top 40 every week. I stopped listening to that at 16, but it’s still in my head today.

And baal teshuvas have different families: non-observant parents, non-Jewish cousins, Zaidies who are Grandpas, “family” customs that come from rabbis and teachers instead of the family. Their families don’t converge on them for Passover, they send Chanukah cards instead of Rosh Hashana cards, they talk about politics in Israel instead of the holiness of the land of Israel. The list goes on and on.

And that history leads to differences. Baal teshuvas may want their kids to have a little stronger secular education, they may feel differently about punishments, they may do unusual things like take their kids camping or have pets. So, try as they might, they will never fully blend. Their kids may, if they want to. And, if they are successful in passing it on to the next generation, the grandchildren will blend seamlessly. The final phase of total blending takes three generations.

Aliza is the national coordinator for Ner LeElef’s North American Women’s Program, and the Senior Educator for The Jewish Experience in Denver, Colorado. She mentors women in their roles as kiruv professionals, and provides consulting for kiruv organizations across the country. In addition, she teaches classes, develops programs and offers individual spiritual guidance that helps fuel the spark of Jewish pride and involvement in people from across the spectrum of Jewish association. She lectures in a multitude of venues throughout Colorado, across the country and around the world.

What are the Major Issues Regarding “I’m Frum, My Family Isn’t”

As the Rabbi of a wonderfully diverse shul, Lincoln Square Synagogue, with a large number of people who have family members who aren’t observant, I am starting a new class entitled “I’m Frum, My Family Isn’t: Halachic solutions to religious differences between family members”

This blog continues to be an excellent resource for Baalei Teshuvah, and I would like to hear suggestions from any readers as to what the most pressing halachic issues that you find yourself discussing with your Rov are.

-For some it is exposing children to non-religious relatives, or questions within kashrus and Shabbat.

-When observant children assume responsibility for their elderly parents care, all sorts of halachic issues arise.

-Attending simchas of relatives in non- Orthodox temples, or non-kosher venues presents their own sets of difficulties.

These are just a few examples of the questions we’re scheduled to cover, and I would love to hear additional suggestions.

With best wishes,
Rabbi Shaul Robinson

PS: for those interested in attending – the class will meet at Lincoln Square Synagogue at 7:30 pm on Wednesdays!

Financial Independence and Success in the T’shuvah Process

By Michoel

I have a feeling that some will read this and their reaction will be “mai k’mashma lan?” As in, “Why is he wasting perfectly good kilobytes on the patently obvious?” But to me, the thoughts contained here were not so self-apparent and I have found them very important. Se even if there are a only few readers who can identify, I feel it is worth sharing this.

Financial pressure is a major part of frum family life. It is quite common for FFBs and BTs alike to solicit and / or receive help from family. I am now, Baruch Hashem, frum for 22 years. Just this year, I have made it my biggest priority to wean myself of familial help. And moving in that direction has already had an enormous positive effect.

There is maamar Chazal somewhere (sorry, I don’t have the makor handy) that states that once a person accepts a gift from another, he is “kanui lo l’olam”; the one who accepts the gift is permanently “acquired” by the giver. It can be extremely unhealthful to have a sense of dependence toward someone that is lukewarm, or worse, toward your values. Even when family is %100 behind the decision to become observant, there are very good reasons to decline offers of help.

Until a few years ago, there was simply no way that I could cover my tuition obligations without a major change in life circumstances. We would have needed either my wife going to work full time, with young children still at home, or myself working at least 1.5 full time jobs. I realize there are many who do such things. But we knew that it was really beyond our kochos. I happen to be blessed with a close relative who is both naturally giving and fantastically wealthy. They are also not frum and fairly secure and confident in their present lifestyle which comes across in various ways. We relied on them heavily.

But a few years ago, I found a better paying job. We re-did all the math, and were extremely gratified to find (at least on paper) that we could just barely cover our expenses without coming on to help from relatives. So we davened for Siyata D’shmaya and set hour minds to the task. Our heat is turned way down from where it was. Our food choices have become greatly simplified but still healthful. And we have taken on small parnassa-expanded opportunities. It feels fantastic. If a m’shulach approaches me and I give him a dollar, I no longer suffer from confusion over whose dollar it is that I am giving away. (As in, maybe I should save this dollar and ask my relative for a dollar less next fall.)

I feel so much better about my interactions with my relative. There had always been a nagging undertone in my thoughts that I was devaluing Torah observance in their eyes. “Yes, I am frum and pious, but we both know that I am only able to pull it off on your back.”

My learning has also improved, since there is a greater sense of my time belonging to me.

And one extremely gratifying aspect of all this, is that our kids have completely bought into it in a very positive way. They eat A LOT of popcorn. But they do not feel deprived. Quite the opposite, I would say that the their kibbud av v’eim has improved. This is because, they respect parents that have principles and that are financially organized and self disciplined. But much more than all of that, a truly frugal person is forced to say “no” with conviction. And kids need lots of “nos” in order to grow up emotionally healthful and respecting their parents.

I had been told in my days in yeshiva, that it was a big z’chus for non-frum relatives to allow them the pay for your tuition. This was a classic case of mis-applied-ffb-bt-hyper-religious-gobbly-gook. First, build yourself. Then worry about saving the world. And then worry about saving your family. The biggest z’cus for them is to see frum Jews living in a way that will cause them to respect frum Jews. And you might be the only example they have.

So while I am not advocating starvation, it is well worth it to do whatever you can to assert your financial independence.

Chanukah: Torah and Play Do Go Together

By David Feiner

One of the more interesting and different stories related to Chanukah are those surrounding Dreidels. According to many traditional accounts, the Dreidel was used as ruse to cover up the studying of Torah when Greek soldiers would come upon groups of children with their teachers. Rather than observing Torah study, they would see a bunch of children playing with a top.

While the stories surrounding Dreidels are amusing and cute, there is a serious, yet ironic lesson that can be learned from them. The irony comes from the fact that the Greeks attempted to do away with Judaism and the study of Torah and the fact that Chanukah is generally considered to be a time when extra Torah study is encouraged and may even be considered a second Matan Torah similar to that stated by the commentaries on Megillat Esther.

However, consider the following:
There is considerable focus on succeeding in Torah learning. This pressure is mostly felt by children, who are expected to be studying all the time. In fact, several Rabbonim have said (or in some cases, had proclamations attributed to them) that it is better for children to study Torah all the time and have no time for play or to rest than to have a vacation and risk having someone go OTD. However, one could learn the exact opposite from this part of the Chanukah story – that in fact one should take breaks from learning. This is especially so since study of Torah never ceased and one could argue that the study was even more intense in the years that followed.

In addition to this, many people are shamed of their hobbies and distractions. Ba’alei Teshuva as well as FFBs are subjected to this and as a result many have feelings of guilt when it comes to taking time from learning and using it for something different, such as vacation. With this pressure and guilt, it is nearly impossible to succeed in learning on any level.

Therefore one can learn the following lesson: It is true that Torah is our life-blood and we are expected to study whenever possible, as the verse in Yehoshua states. One should absolutely be Kovea Itim. However, it is necessary to take time and relax and if necessary, do something completely unrelated to the study of Torah such as playing baseball. While it is true that the playing with the Dreidel was in a life-threatening situation, it could also be said that non-stop Torah study with no breaks can also cause a similar situation, except that the individual becomes burnt-out and loses interest.

The time will be considered well used since upon returning from a break, the mind is refreshed and can process information better, which means that learning Seder will be more productive. Consequently, this year, let us take a lesson and study Torah as best we can, but also take the time to relax when necessary.

Why Kiruv Sometimes Fails

By Shira. After getting married, Shira’s husband became a BT. They’ve worked together to patch a semi-frum lifestyle together which includes attending an orthodox shul, keep a kosher home, and keeping shabbos.

As a BT who went off, daughter of another BT who went off, and having encountered more than a few who were BT, went off (or almost did), and some that came back, I’ve come to have a few ideas about why this happens.

Not in any particular order of importance:

1. Kiruv is generally one-sided, hashkafically. Recipients do not necessarily realize that other ‘brands’ are legitimate within Orthodoxy when what they are presented with is the ‘right’ way. Its not that other groups of Orthodoxy are ignored or put-down, so much as never mentioned. Someone says, “This is how you do this,” and a BT hears, “This is the way God wants us to do this.” Hearing, “This is one of the ways that Jews believe God wants us to do this,” would leave more paths open in a BT’s mind for questions of hashkafa. Hashkafa is such a muddy area for a BT to navigate, it should be made clear from the get-go that there are many ways to be orthodox, and one is not lesser or lower than another. In the kiruv environment, a lot of differences in how to do a mitzvah are categorized as different ‘levels’ of observance – and everyone doing at their own level of the moment. This implies that those who seem to do ‘less’ are doing a lesser form, when in fact many cases of differences in observance are based on equal but different interpretations of halacha, rather than instances of leniency and stringency.

2. Seeing immoral actions done by so-called frum people, and even by whole communities, is huge. Who counts as ‘frum’ seems to centre around certain types of mitzvahs, while other areas are neglected. Yes, outward mitzvahs are more visible, so its more easy to judge who is frum by them, but that doesn’t make it spiritually healthy for a community. A person becomes BT and wants to fit in… what seems to help one fit in most is to conform with those outward mitzvahs first. Shabbos, kashruth, etc. This is a problem in the frum world in general, not just the kiruv communities. Judgement of others, whether outright or subtly, needs to change. Emphasis on the good that a person does, the mitzvahs that a person does which are not necessarily ritualistic, should be made more of a priority. Assumptions about a person’s character, integrity, or commitment to Judaism should not be based on the visible trappings that person has taken on. When BT’s are turned off by the immoral actions of communities and community members, they are often given the line “Don’t judge Judaism by the Jews.” What a shallow answer to such a big problem. Judaism looks more like the Jews, today, than what God originally handed down at Sinai. Real Jews, who made immoral choices as well as good choices, created Judaism as we practice it, Rabbinic Judaism. So, its not so easy to tease out what is Judaism and what is “the Jews.” The answer just does not suffice. A better answer is to recognize that every group in the world contains good and bad people, including Judaism.

3. The Judaism offered by kiruv is most often very shallow. It doesn’t address real difficulties in life, it doesn’t bend for different people. BT’s don’t know enough to realize that there are leniencies and ways around. They don’t know enough to realize there are other streams of orthodoxy which might suit them better. They don’t realize that they can daven less than what the class they attended called the ‘minimum’ and they whip themselves internally for not living up to what they think are God’s expectations of all Jews.

4. This is a tricky one. When a BT is unhappy with how they are living, it isn’t necessarily visible to those around them. Its easy to hide behind the ritualistic day-to-day living and not let anyone know the difficulties that are going on inside oneself, especially if it doesn’t seem like anyone else is having those types of difficulties. If such a BT person does reach out, and ask tough questions, and question the Torah and mitzvahs, and generally express their unhappiness with what they are living, no one says to that person, “Stop doing mitzvahs.” The message given out is to ‘go slow,’ not take on ‘too much too soon,’ etc. None of it is directed to someone who’s already gone too far. No one tells a BT to stop doing a mitzvah, if they look unhappy. No one says to step back, take a break, reflect without doing, do less, try again later. The advice you might get if you are asking for help is to ‘try harder’ or find different ways to get connection out of continuing the do the mitzvahs. For some people, who went too far too fast, it would be better to tell them to stop practicing some parts and give themselves time to catch up with their changes.

5. BT’s expect more of themselves than perhaps the religion expects. Much of the kiruv experience focuses on how to practice Judaism… and the BT doesn’t encounter examples in Jewish history of characters who were ‘less than.’ Hasidic stories about about seemingly perfect rabbis. Efforts are made to interpret the ‘mistakes’ of the forefathers as ‘not really mistakes.’ There is a lot of guilt for a BT in not living up to what is perceived as the base-line. It doesn’t help that the idea of “If you aren’t moving up, you are moving down” is common. Sometimes the effort of staying in just one spot, or just even slowing one’s descent, is more than a person can do. The idea that you must keep striving for better is damaging without more context. And especially this idea is very dangerous because it is often mixed up with the idea of ‘levels’ of practice, and differences of hashkafa.

Of those who I became frum with, who remained observant over the past many years, I’ve observed that they did so because they were able to reframe and find new reasons for continuing on, even when sometimes not completely satisfied. I think such people are less likely to be perfectionist, and give themselves much more leeway in making mistakes. They are people who are good at forgiving themselves, and believing that God forgives them. The BT’s who left, that I have encountered, for the most part seem to be people are are extremely deep thinkers, who have a very high sense of morality, who look for integrity in Judaism, who set high standards and ask very difficult questions.

I’m not really sure how kiruv people could even identify the type of person I was, in order to slow them down or give warning, or teach differently. I was the person who knew every answer in the kiruv classes, who conformed in most every way, who always had astute questions to ask, etc. I looked like a model student.

I also wonder how successful kiruv really is. How many of those who are brought in, stay?

Another thing I’ve noticed, which I didn’t see as a BT, was that even the most observant people I’ve met don’t necessarily put on and tie their shoes in the correct halachic order. The most pious Jews still have areas where they don’t know or don’t bother. Every Jew I’ve encountered who I categorized as ‘very frum’ turned out to have an area of halacha which they chose to ignore the fine details of. A blind spot. Something they’ve chosen not to find out more about, for fear of needing to change, or from lack of interest, or other reasons I can’t fathom. But its interesting that BT’s feel obligated to pursue and ‘do correctly’ any new halacha they hear of, while others who are long-time frum (BT or FFB) seem able to just turn a blind eye to some areas.

Rebbetzin Tziporah Heller on Rav Nosson Tzvi Finkel zt”l

Rebbetzin Tziporah Heller will be lecturing around the United States for 2 weeks, starting today. Here is her itinerary.

She will be speaking at Congregation Ahavas Yisroel on Monday, November 21 at 8:30 PM for Women on the topic “Closing the Gap Between Mind, Heart and Action” . The address is 147-02 73rd Avenue, Kew Gardens Hills, NY 11367.

You can read Rebbetzin Heller’s articles on Aish and her site and you can download some of her mp3s on Torah Anytime and on Naaleh.com.

In here most recent newsletter, Rebbetzin Heller wrote a hesped for Rav Nossin Tzvi Finkel zt”l. Here is an excerpt:

My daughter Miri’s husband Shmuli, (who some of you know) studies at the Mir, and has been close to the Rosh Yeshiva since he came to Israel close to 20 years ago. The Rosh Yeshiva had an intensely personal relationship to him, and to virtually every other student who really wanted one. His son asked if he really knew all 5000 by name. He said, “I’m not sure, but I know that I like them all.” He enjoyed the students visiting him before the holidays and bringing him Torah thoughts that they developed from whatever section of Talmud they were studying. He would say, “That makes my holiday.”

Shmuli came with his little girl (who he took with him to make it easier for Miri to finish things up). He left in more than ample time to get home before Yom Tov. Minutes before the holiday began, Miri called me. “Mommy, what do you think I should do? Shmuli left for the Rosh Yeshiva hours ago, and he still didn’t come back. He left his phone here by accident. I don’t know where they are. Do you think I should call the police to see if something happened?” I told her that before she calls the police, she should call the Rosh Yeshiva’s house to find out when he left exactly. Maybe he was delayed there for whatever reason.

She called, and the Rosh Yeshiva himself answered the phone. After Miri identified herself, and told him about the reason for her call, he said, “Of course they were here. Your little girl looked so cute. Her pink gingham dress is so adorable.” He went on to discuss her socks, and how the ribbons on top matched the ribbons in her hair. Bus schedules were soon on the agenda. Miri didn’t know what to make of the entire conversation. Why would the Rosh Yeshiva spend so much time on small talk? As he was soldiering on (is the material wash and wear?) the doorbell rang and Shmuli came in. When the Rosh Yeshiva heard Shumli’s voice he immediately wished her a good Yom Tov and hung up. He was sure that Shmuli would be home any minute, and kept her on the phone to prevent her from becoming hysterical. Shmuli told her about the suspicious object that prevented the bus from getting to Har Nof on time, the absence of taxis on the road, and finally the trek home with the baby, who by this time looked considerably less adorable than she had hours earlier.

Would you have seen the outfit?

I doubt that I would, and even if I did, that I would be sensitive enough to know what to do with the information filed in my mind under “trivia”.

Rav Finkel started out in Chicago, went to Arie Crown Day School, and was known as Natie. He came to Israel wearing a baseball cap (although, he would quip, “I knew enough to leave my golf clubs back in Chicago). He obligates all of us to question our level of our caring, dedication, courage, perseverance and most of all love of Torah.

The Zoo in You

By Rabbi Ari Taback

It has got to rate as one of the most bizarre news stories of the decade.

A few weeks ago, authorities in the town of Zanesville, Ohio began receiving alarming calls about exotic wild animals roaming their neighbourhood. On investigation, they zeroed in on a smallholding belonging to a man by the name of Terry Thompson, the owner of Muskingum County Exotic Animal Farm. Thompson, who had recently been released from a one year prison term for unlawful possession of firearms after more than one hundred illegal guns were confiscated in a raid on his home, was more of an animal collector than a zoo-keeper. His private menagerie included some eighteen Bengal tigers, seventeen lions, two grizzly bears and a host of other decidedly hazardous creatures, all housed in a strange assortment of cages and enclosures on the farm. A wolf was reportedly confined in the interior of an abandoned car. Thompson was apparently under significant financial strain, and on October 19, he tragically took his own life. He left no note, and for some inexplicable and macabre reason, he chose to first open all the cages and enclosures of his fierce faunal collection before pulling the trigger.

Within a short time, wild animals were being sighted in and around the small town. Police were mobilized, as were Ohio Wildlife and Parks officials. Staff members of the Columbus Zoo also raced to the scene, including former director of the world-renowned zoo and TV personality Jack Hanna. With daylight fading, they soon realised that the animals could not be safely darted, and considering the significant threat they posed to human life, the chief of the Muskingum County Sheriff’s Office issued his officers an instruction to “shoot to kill”. By the end of the evening’s carnage, all but six of the creatures were dead, including all of the eighteen rare tigers. A missing monkey was assumed to have been eaten by one of the lions. Hanna, a veteran animal keeper, is reported to have commented that “It’s like Noah’s ark wrecked here in Zanesville, Ohio.”

After reading the news reports and various commentaries on this story, it struck me as intriguing that the incident occurred only a few days before we read the portion in the Torah dealing with our famous ancestor and his floating zoo. The Torah describes in great detail how Noah was to collect the creatures which would ride out the deluge with him in the ark, and how he should construct its various sections. We are taught that the craft consisted of three decks, the uppermost for its human residents, the second tier miraculously had enough place for all the animals, and the lowest deck was reserved for the waste.

The structure of the ark serves as a fascinating model for the human being. Torah sources write that like in the ark, there are three sections to every person. The uppermost section, his head, contains his mind, the seat of his elevated Neshama and the element of his spiritual being which makes him uniquely human. Beneath this is the upper torso, containing the heart and lungs. This section of the person contains a more “animalistic” life force and is associated with the world of emotions. In the lower torso is the digestive system which processes a person’s food and stores the waste products, the most basic necessity for life. This directly parallels the three tiers of the ark, the uppermost deck for human beings parallel to the mind, the middle deck for the animals parallel to the emotions, and the lower deck for the waste, parallel to the digestive system.

It is not by chance that the head and mind occupy the uppermost space of the human body. It is the role of the mind to harness and care for our emotional energies, like Noah who from his top floor was instructed to care for and contain his animal passengers.

The dramatic events in Ohio serve as a powerful demonstration of the critical role that the zoo-keeper plays in the care and containment of the creatures in his charge. But as an analogy, it perhaps highlights how when the mind stops playing its crucial role, the emotions of a person can run rampant. So often we see people who lose all sense of reason when their honour is slighted, or how a person will become consumed in the irrational pursuit of a particular physical vice. It is the role of the mind, the keeper of “the zoo in you”, to contain and care for the energies which lurk in the deck below.

But emotions are not intrinsically negative. On the contrary, the emotional forces which swirl around in our bosoms are the very life force which gives our lives passion and energy. Not only must the mind not suppress our emotions, but they must be cared for and channelled, “taken for walks” and trained, so that they can express themselves in a positive way.
The Mishna teaches: “Said Rabbi Yehuda ben Teima: Be strong like a lion, bold like a leopard and swift like a deer to do the wishes of your Father in Heaven”.

This is the Torah’s advice on how to truly utilize the powerful energies of our emotions, and to properly care for “the zoo in you”.

An Alter Mirrer and Beyond BT

By Yakov Spil

Years ago, I had the privilege of meeting a Yid who was among the distinguished group of talmidim, who are becoming more and more rare, known as Alter Mirrers. They learned in the Mir Yeshiva in Poland before the war broke out and then were transported “al kanfei haShechina” to Shanghai, Japan where they stayed through the war for three years. The stories that came from this period are just miraculous and go to show how the Yad Hashem intervenes for His Chosen People.

It was on Pesach, that I met this Rov. I wish I could remember the rest of his shiur on the “Arbah Kayses,” but it certainly was enchanting. But I do remember one resounding message to us.

Us? Yes, he spoke to us as Baalei Teshuva.

He said, “I met a yid and he comes to tell me that he’s a Baal Teshuva for ten years. I don’t understand dis. Ven a Yid decides to come to learn Tayreh, he is no longer a Baal Teshuva. He is a Yid like the rest of us doing all the things choshuveh Yidden do.”

It appears that this Alter Mirrer saw the term Baal Teshuva as something of a moniker, a label that was not really helping the person. It was tying him to his past in an unhealthy way. It could even be dragging him down and he didn’t even realize it!

When I recalled this last night after I heard he passed away, I thought how appropriate the site is called Beyond BT, it is exactly how he thought we should approach our treasured lives being a part of the Am Hanivchar.

His name is Rav Aryeh Leib Baron zl. He was known as Rav Leib Baronivitcher because he grew in Baranovitch and was very close with Rav Boruch Ber zl. When I met him, he was a Rosh Yeshiva in Montreal. He passed away in Yerushalayim Ir Hakodesh.

May Rav Baron’s memory be a blessing for us and we should be zoche to carry on with our Avodas Hakodesh k’dei lo sishochach m’pi zaro, in order that Torah is never forgotten from our lips and from those of our children!

Find Hashem where He can be found, I think what the Rosh Yeshiva told us is a mission: find yourself as a Yid and go beyond any labels. Be a yid who attaches himself to Mesorah the way the Torah wants us to and not according to any contemporary ideas and we will see the success we are looking for.

The Ultimate Rebellion

By Rucheli Manville who posts great photos and writings at Rucheli’s Ramblings.

There was once a young man. He was raised in a good home filled with positive influences. He had the best education in a great community. His parents set him on a straight path towards success, but he had his own ideas of what he wanted from life. And so the downward spiral began. He started indulging in the “pleasures” of life… He demanded meat; he started drinking more wine than normal. His parents tried to curb his newly-formed habits and give him life advice, but to no avail. He declined to listen to them, and worse, he demanded that they fund his selfish habits! No matter what his parents did, he refused to turn his life back around. Left with no other choice, his parents are instructed by the Torah to bring him before the Beis Din (Jewish court) to have him sentenced to death. A tragic ending to what could have been such a promising life…

This is the story of the “wayward and rebellious son” in the parshah, Ki Seitzei. The Talmud (in Sanhedrin 71b) tells us that this story never actually happened… that in all the years of history, not a single “rebellious son” was ever actually found among the Jewish people. Supposedly, it was included in the Torah so that we can reap the reward for learning something simply l’shem shamayim, for the sake of Heaven. Well, I’m not normally one to disagree with the Sages of the Talmud… but they’re wrong. The story of the rebellious child has actually happened. Don’t believe me? Just ask my parents.

My parents, thank G-d, did a fantastic job raising my sister and I. We lived in a modest home in a great neighborhood in one of the top areas of South Florida. I went to the best elementary, middle, and high schools in the state. My parents taught me self-confidence, self-motivation, and self-worth. I excelled at whatever I chose to do, and graduated high school with a full-ride offer to not one, but dozens of different colleges. I knew that within 10 years of graduating high school, I would be making 6 figures and be well on my way to becoming a CEO of a Fortune 500 Tech company.

I went away to university and things were right on track. My grades were great, I had incredible internships with some of the top engineering companies in the world, and life was good. Little did I know that a crazy Rabbi dressed in a penguin suit, along with his wife, was about to turn my life completely upside down…

A little bit of background first. When I started college, I was a “devout” atheist. I preached atheism. I was 100% convinced that science had a perfectly reasonable and logical explanation for everything. It came with the territory: I was an industrial engineer by trade with the small side hobby of quantum physics. Yet my Jewish soul was still alive and kicking after all those years of being suppressed once I had given up my Judaism after laining (chanting) this very parshah on my 13th birthday. Yes, my bat mitzvah was on my 13th birthday instead of my twelfth. Yes, I lained. Anyway, once I got to college I began looking for Jewish groups on campus. Not for the “religious” aspect of it, of course. I just missed the synagogue’s social scene. (At least that’s what my subconscious tricked my evil inclination into thinking.) And so I tried out Hillel at UCF. They had a nice building and plenty of money, but like David Brooks of the New York Times said last week, they had gone too far and “crossed the Haimish line.” It felt too cliquey and impersonal for me. At the time there were no other options, and so I decided that it just wasn’t meant to be and dove headfirst into the engineering and honors clubs instead. For the next year, Judaism was pushed to the back of my mind again.

This was my mental state when the Lipskiers moved to Orlando during my second year of college. Now, I’m not sure how he did it, but Rabbi Lipskier, being totally in tune with the times, somehow found a way to get the email address of every Jew on campus and proceeded to spam us constantly. From the second they moved into town, I had at least three event invitations in my inbox every week. Shabbat, a class, a barbecue, you name it. He even went on to campus a few days a week to hunt us down. Now for a while, I managed to successfully ignore their blatant attempts at attracting students to their events, but eventually they wore me down. And so one day, I called my mom.

“Sooo there’s this new Jewish group on campus and they’ve been spamming me with invites to stuff nonstop for a few weeks so I’m thinking about just going to check it out…”

She was SO excited that I actually wanted to do something reminiscent of my childhood days in Temple Sunday School. “Really? That’s great! What’s the group called?”

And so I told her: “I dunno, Cha-bad or something.”

And her response? “Oh my G-d, Kabad?! DON’T GO!”­­­

She then proceeded to spend the next seven and half minutes lecturing to me about how ‘Kabad’ is that group of crazy people that walk on Saturdays and they brainwash people and they oppress women because they’re so old-fashioned and that under no circumstances whatsoever should I set foot anywhere near this so-called Jewish group.

But, like the rebellious son, I could only listen to my parents for so long and so started the “downward spiral.” About three weeks after that conversation (and to be totally honest, I’m surprised it actually took three weeks), I decided to go check out ‘Cha-bad’ anyways. And so I called up Rabbi Lipskier at about 4:30pm on a Friday afternoon (which we all know is just about the worst time ever to call a Rabbi) and proceeded to explain at length how I kind-of wanted to come check out this event thing he was doing that night… but I didn’t know what it was, and I hadn’t been to Temple in about six years, and I didn’t know how to pray, and I didn’t know what to wear, and, and, and… And so Rabbi cut me off mid-sentence and told me to stop worrying, wear whatever I was wearing, and just show up at such-and-such address in three hours. And so, three hours later, I showed up to the Lipskiers’ house wearing jeans, a tank-top, and a pair of flip-flops. For Shabbat, my very first one.

Of course, like any Chabad family would do, Rabbi and Rivkie took me in with open arms despite my completely-underdressed-for-the-occasion attire. It was the exact opposite of the experience I had at Hillel. It was warm, the food was delicious, the people were friendly, and the conversation was relaxed. And somewhere deep inside, my little spark of G-dliness –my Jewish soul– was having a ball. And so I went back the next week. And the week after that. Rapidly it became my weekly pre-game before Friday frat-parties and clubbing. I mean, who wouldn’t want a four-course meal and several glasses of wine before meeting up for a night on the town??

After about a month, I think I finally told my oh-so-pleased mother. And after a few more weeks, I started going to the Tuesday night “Kabbalah and Kabobs” barbeques also. And then I started going over on Thursdays to help Rivkie cook for Shabbat. And eventually I started going on Sunday for the infamous “BLT” (Bagels, Lox, and Tefillin) event, even though I wasn’t exactly putting on tefillin. Before long, I added in Wednesday women’s programs, Monday night classes, and even gave up my hung-over Saturday mornings for some quality “family” time at the Chabad house. It was an addiction, I was out of control. I was losing myself… thank G-d.

That summer, my Rabbi convinced me to go on Birthright to Israel with the Mayanot program. I went. It was the most incredible experience of my life, and I loved it so much that I extended my trip and backpacked around Israel with six total strangers. One of them was the guide from my trip, a modern-Orthodox-ish college student from FIU. So even though the rest of us weren’t at all observant, we were respectful. The result was that when I got back to the states, I was keeping Shabbos(ish), Kosher(ish), and was even dressing more Tznius(ish). I wasn’t observant by any means, but turning off my phone on Friday nights and lighting Shabbos candles, paired with giving up pork, and on top of that, always covering my knees and shoulders (even if it was a t-shirt and jeans) was a HUGE deal for someone who was raised as Reform as it gets. And so when I got home, my mom broke down and cried. Literally, on the floor pleading with me not to be crazy because she would never see her grandchildren because she wasn’t Jewish enough for me. It was ridiculous, and it was all my fault… all a result of my rebellion.

Just as things were starting to get better and my family was getting used to my unruly behavior, I went with the Lipskiers to Crown Heights for my first Chabad Shabbaton. It was like a different planet… a whole city of penguin-looking rabbis and women wearing way too much clothing. I was overwhelmed, but something about it was entrancing. The modesty, the confidence, the respect people had for each other… it was enticing to someone who grew up in a culture of “bare all or be nothing.” I was hooked.

Before I even realized what was happening to me, it started getting more serious… All of the sudden I was demanding to have special (Kosher) red meat on Fridays and Saturdays… And I was drinking more wine than normal (making my own Kiddush when I was at home with the parents)… I started talking more about G-d than about my plans for taking over the tech world. I spent more time reading Chabad.org than the latest articles about the Big Bang. I stopped wearing all the nice clothes that my mom had bought me and started buying a whole new wardrobe full of “frumpy” skirts. And worst of all, I expected my parents to fund all of my crazy new habits. I had to have been the epitome of the rebellious child in the eyes of my family. Why couldn’t I just be normal?! But no matter what they did, no matter what they said, I refused to turn my life back around.

I’m sure there were times that my parents would have dragged me off to Beis Din if they had remembered the parshah I had read all those years ago. Fortunately, they didn’t. Not that it would have mattered, since keeping Torah and Mitzvos wouldn’t have seemed so rebellious in the Beis Din’s eyes anyway. But still, it was a cause of much strife in my family.

My grandfather was really the only one who was okay with everything that was going on at the beginning. One of the acronyms of Elul is “Es levavcha v’es levav”, speaking about how “G-d will circumcise your heart and the heart of your children,” an act that will arouse teshuvah (return). Well, it must have skipped my parents’ generation, but in Hashem’s quirky idea of humor, I was the one bringing it around full-circle. Grandpa’s acceptance was a start, and before I knew it, things were getting better. It wasn’t long before my family was making Glatt-Kosher Christmas dinners so that I could come home for the holidays (oh, the irony) and adjusting to my incessant need to dress like it’s mid-winter outside. I wouldn’t say that they were quite happy, but they were no longer ready to disown me.

I kept finding new ways to push my limits, to stoke the fire of rebellion just a little more. Eight days in the Florida Keys with 100 Jewish girls for Bais Chana’s Snorkel and Study program. A few more college Shabbatons in Crown Heights. The Sinai Scholars class on campus. Random plane trips to New York to visit the grave of a man I never met but felt like I had known my whole life. Lavish five-star JLI retreats every summer to listen to Jewish topics that no one else in my family cared about. But no matter how many curve balls I threw, my family adapted with ease.

Left with no other choice, I did something totally insane. You’re adjusting to my rebelliousness? Well then, that’s no longer rebelling! I’ll push you even further!! And so, almost exactly a year ago, I turned down a full-time engineering position making $65K a year to go be dirt-broke in a yeshiva somewhere in the middle of Israel. Surely, that would push any parent completely over the edge… and they lost it. Again.

My sense of social responsibility was completely out the door, I had no regard for the economic welfare of myself or those closest to me, and I had clearly given up on the idea of ever using my brain. I had effectively reduced myself to a life of “sitting in the kitchen and popping out babies,” as my sister so eloquently put it.

Hardly discouraged, I spent the year living life to the fullest. I was soaking up information like a sponge, trying desperately to catch my pathetic childhood Jewish education up to par with my college degree in engineering in the span of 10 months in a Beis Medrash. I was taking trips to places that could be found nowhere else on earth. I was walking on the same stones that my ancestors walked on thousands of years ago, when the Temple still stood. I was tired, I was poor, and I was loving every single minute of my time at Mayanot.

A few weeks after I got to Israel, my dad got a camera and Skype. We talked face-to-face for the first time in a little over a month. He had a beaming smile on his face the whole time, a novelty for my emotionally-grey father. When I asked why he was in such a good mood, he answered, “I wish you could see your face. I’ve never seen you so happy in my life.”

That was it. That was the turning point. I was happy, truly happy, and my family could finally see it. I guess distance really does make the heart grow fonder. Within a few months, my dad was more supportive than he had been since he was my softball coach when I was 12 years old. My mom and I were racking up triple digit phone bills again. My little sister was over the fact that she had a freak for a sibling. My grandpa started reading articles and watching videos on Chabad.org and TorahCafe.com and my grandma started lighting Shabbos candles again for the first time in decades. The tables had turned… The rebellion had spread. We’re all rebelling now, rebelling against the status quo, rebelling against this materialistic world with its fake morals and pathetic values system. We’re rebelling against the idea that money buys happiness. We’re looking for more out of this life, and I’m no longer the only one finding what I’m looking for in the letters of Torah.

The last four and a half years have been a constant battle, always uphill and never easy. But that’s what this parshah, my parshah, is all about… ki seitzei, going out to war. In this case, against myself. And although I’ve won many battles, the war continues on. But this month is Elul, and that makes the struggle completely different. Ki seitzei is always read in Elul, a time for teshuvah, a time for return. It’s time to win the battle and go back to what’s important.

And so, I’ll close with a blessing… may we all continue to live “ki seitzei.” May we constantly go out from our comfort zones; l’milchama – to go to war; al oyvecha – over our enemies, the yetzer hora and material desires; un’sano Hashem Elokecha B’Yadecha – we should always be able to realize that Hashem is on our side and that He will help us win these battles. And let us right now shavisa shivyoi – capture the captives of the yetzer hora, and let us recapture our souls and our very lives. May the beautiful spark that has been trapped inside each of us take this month of Elul to weep in Teshuvah, for a full month, as the parshah says. And through this battle and rebellion, let us be truly victorious over our enemies, and may this victory bring us to the beginning of next week’s parshah, where it says “v’haya ki savo el haaretz asher Hashem Elokecha noisen lecha” “And it will be that you will enter the land which G-d, your Lord, has given to you.” May we enter the Land of Israel together for the final time in the ultimate rebellion against the status quo, with the coming of Moshiach speedily in our days. Amen.

Feeling Inspired is a Means, Not an Ends

By Yakov Spil

I heard a story last week that touched me and helped clarify an aspect of our avodas Hashem.

The maaseh occured in the days when Rav Yechezkel Levenstein zl was the Mashgiach of Ponovezh. There was a talmid chochom who was close to death and a few talmidim went to be with this adom choshuv in his last hours. This talmid chochom knew that he did not have much time left and he knew when to say shema, vidui, pesukim etc. etc. The talmidim were all davening with him and they were very touched as they witnessed this man’s lofty madrega in his last hours in this world.

He passes away and they cover him and stay with him until the Mashgiach zl comes.

Rav Chatzkel came and said to them, “Genug mit dem bitul! Geit zurik zu di Yeshiva!” “Enough with the waste of time. Go back to the Yeshiva.”

The talmidim answer him, “But, Rebbe, how can this be a waste of time. We were melaveh him to the Next World. We had such hisorrerus from it.”

Rav Chatzkel’s answer is so important I think.

“Hisorrerus iz nisht kein avodah.”

“Feeling inspired is not what constitutes a person’s avodas Hashem.”

When we think about it, there are so many aspects of our avodas Hashem that really and truly are inspiring events or activities, but we are thus missing out on meat and potatoes because this is not true avodas Hashem, they are ancillary. Important and life changing as they may be, they are not what really build our avodas Hashem and our connection to Avinu Shebashomayim.

This hits me because perhaps this is why there are so many “Kinus Hisorrerus” today. This is why so many are looking for chizuk. Could it be we are looking for chizuk because we have not built the proper foundation within ourselves?

Of course, one should go and hear a Rov or a Mashgiach about seminal life events and current events as we recently endured. But one should not think that he has fortified himself in his own Avodas Hashem by going.

It only comes through the struggle and toil we all have experienced in working over a Gemora, or working through some loshon in a sefer and we get it better because we “chorvened” over it. We worked on it. We made a kinyan on it. We all know that feeling.

My question to everyone is, with all of our family obligations and being kovea itim, how do we still make those kinyonim being older? It was much easier when we were younger! I have that longing to achieve still and find it so challening.

Until I heard this vort, I might have thought I was spending my time wisely. Now, I realize that there’s this and there’s that. There’s the need for outside chizuk and inspiration which is always welcome. And there’s the personal yegia.

I wish everyone the brocho to achieve in their own yegia and to reap tremendous nachas from it which encourages us to move on and acquire more Torah.

By the way, I hope we can approach this maaseh on its merits and not go with an idea, “Why did he have to be so critical?!” etc.

The talmidim of those days were extraordinarily special and only wanted to do what would bring nachas to their Rebbe who they admired immensely.

In the News: Matisyahu’s tzitzits

Reposted from Loose Ends – Ben Garson’s Tallis and Tzitzit blog

Outside of the tallit and tzitzit business, it seems the term “tallit katan” is most commonly found on the Web to describe frum stage performers, especially Matisyahu. Here’s a typical example, taken from the The Taos News:

Not only does the [Taos Mountain Music Festival] include everything from folk to mariachi, it also features artists who stretch the boundaries within their chosen musical styles.

Reggae artist Matisyahu has made waves around the world for melding Jewish themes with reggae and beat-box rhythms. His song “King Without a Crown” was a Top 40 hit on music charts in the United States, selling over 700,000 copies to date.

Playing with his Brooklyn-based band, Dub Trio, Matisyahu’s unique sound has been elevated to even greater heights. An Orthodox Jew who has garnered international attention for his uplifting, youthful and heartfelt approach to music, Matisyahu’s performances break down barriers, and open doors. He is certainly one of few, if not the only, American rock star to dive off a stage with a tallit katan — a fringed garment traditionally worn by religious Jewish men.

A similar article recently in Local iQ also noted Matisyahu’s tzitzit, though it sounds like the writer is not very familiar with the terminology (unlike the above article, which was written by a reporter with the last name of Kramer, which might explain why she got it right).

“Judaism isn’t just a religion,” asserted Matisyahu, “It’s a lifestyle.” Onstage and off, he wears the tallit [sic, tallit katan] and payot (Jewish prayer shawl [sic] and side curls) of Hasidic orthodoxy. With his wife, Tahlia, and their three children, he is a longtime resident of the Orthodox Jewish district of Crown Heights in Brooklyn.

What Have you “given up” to be Frum?

By Charlie Hall

Late last week I was invited to give a research presentation to a prestigious conference. But the time for the presentation was to be on Shabat, so I turned the invitation down immediately. Incredibly, in 16 years, this is the first time that this has happened — I’ve withdrawn presentations that were scheduled for Shabat but never before have I been *invited* to give a presentation on Shabat. I was sorry for the non-Jew who invited me that I was not able to come to the conference panel he was organizing but I was proud to be able to declare myself as a Jew who does not break Shabat for work.

I put “given up” in quotes in the title because we of course understand that the real reward for mitzvah observance is not material. I have been blessed in that for the past ten years I have worked for a Jewish institution and am in a profession whose major professional conferences are not on Shabat. Observance has thus been very easy for me. But most of us have had to say “no” on occasion to things that were it not on Shabat we would certainly have done. And there are many career paths for which Shabat is much more difficult than it has been for me.

Please share examples of situations where you found that you had to make the choice in favor of Shabat observance, and how that affected your life.

21 Days of Ahavas Yisroel

There is a site called 21 days of Ahavas Yisroel which is a great idea for this time of year.

Here is the description (with permission) from their home page:

This time of year is traditionally one of mourning for the Jewish people. Starting on 17th of Tammuz (July 19) and culminating on the 9th of Av (August 9), this period commemorates the destruction of the second Temple and the end of the Jewish sovereignty some 2000 years ago.

Since that time we have lived in exile, moving from one country to another, often being openly despised and hated by our host nations. What was it that brought the nation of Israel to such a lowly state for so many centuries? Our sages tell us it was ‘Sinas Chinam,’ or senseless hatred, of one another.

What better reaction can we have than to make these days a time when we focus on acts of senseless love of all Jews, regardless of any difference we may have.

Each day during the Three Weeks we will post a different story of Ahavas Yisroel. The hope is that these stories will inspire us to to strengthen our own efforts in this area.

Send us your stories! Tell us any incident of how you succeeded in the mitzvah (good deed) of Ahavas Yisroel (loving Jews), no matter how small. Together, one small step at a time, we can change the world

Learning from Leiby’s Murder

Reprinted with permission from Rebbetzin Tzipora Heller’s Weekly Letter

Dear friends,

Many of you have heard of the cruel and brutal murder last week of Leiby Kletzky, a nine-year-old who was on his way home from his day camp in Brooklyn, alone for the first time, after pleading with his parents as only a nine-year-old can, to be able to be allowed to go home by himself like his pals. His mom was planning to meet him half way, but as you probably know, he never got there. He got lost, and the friendly stranger who offered to help him, and to give him a ride in his beige Honda, murdered him and dismembered his body.

At least three thousand people were involved in searching for Leiby. Amazing Savings, Glatt Mart, and other large stores provided food, space for an improvised headquarters, and whatever else was needed. The boy’s teacher involved his father, who initially thought the child would be found within a short time. When this proved tragically to not be the case, he went from store to store asking to see the surveillance films until he found the one that provided the police with the shot of the boy entering the car.

What do you do with a story like this?

Do you ignore it?

What was the murderer like? Why, how could a human do something so malicious? Of course there will be the knee-jerk response, “He must be mentally ill”. In other words, the proof that he isn’t accountable for his deed is that he did it. To me, for one, that doesn’t hold water. Neither of his two ex-wives thought of him as unaware of the consequences of his deeds, and in fact they were both shocked at what had occurred.

Would it have shocked Desmond Morris? Probably not. Back in 1994, he theorized that since 98% of our genes are almost identical to those of primates, that we are nothing (to use his words) more than “Naked Apes”.

We do indeed have dark places within the depths of what the Kabbalists call, “the animal soul”. That part of you is attuned only to attraction or rejection. You are attracted to whatever gives you pleasure. Food, sexually driven passions and every other form of immediate gratification is part of the package. You reject anything that threatens pain, punishment, or anything you see as toxic. Your fears, rages, and anger all stem from this drive. The refutation of Morris’ theory is that we have a spiritual soul as well. Hear how humans are described in Tehillim 8:

“What is man that you are mindful of him…Yet you have made him a little lower than the angels, and crowned him with glory and honor. You have made him ruler over the works of Your hand. You put everything under his feet.”

We can face the animal soul and redirect its energy and passion. One way in which this took place in earlier times was through the sacrifices offered in the Temple. The underlying concept is that you would look at the animal, feel its pulsing life force and say, “This is me”. The word that is used for domesticated animals that were offered is “bakkar”, which means cattle. It is linguistically related to the word “boker” which means morning. There is a reason that we talk about “dawn breaking”. It is an unstoppable force, much like animals mindlessly stampeding, breaking every barrier in their path.

You have to teach yourself to respect boundaries, and as a human you can. You can have a higher goal than the immediate gratification of the relentless demands of everything the beast demands. In this week’s parshah, Mattot, we find that Hashem told the Jews that they have to make war against the Midianites. This is because it was the Midianites who tried to redefine us in order to destroy us. As we found in last week’s parshah, they even used their own king’s daughter as bait in their attempts to seduce the Jewish men, an attempt that to a significant degree succeeded. “Their G-d hates promiscuity”, a nice civilized sounding word (it even has four syllables!) to describe the animal soul’s hallmark. Why would Hashem hate this or anything at all, for that matter? Love has demands! His love for us demands that we become something better than two legged animals. He believes in us far more than we believe in ourselves, and demands a minimum of honest self-discovery.

It is, of course, no coincidence that the fast of the 17th of Tammuz (July 19) takes place this week. It commemorates five terrible events that took place in our history.

1) The tablets of the law were broken when Moshe came down and saw the Jews debauched as they danced around the golden calf.

2) The walls around Jerusalem were breached.

3) The daily sacrifices had to be halted during the time of the first Temple (thus ending the possibility of collective spiritual recommitment to move beyond the animal self).

4) The Torah scrolls were burned.

5) An idol was placed in the sanctuary.

These events are more than history. They are the story of our present battle. Do you want the Law, or the calf? Do you want structure or inner anarchy in your private Jerusalem? Do you want to worship G-d or your fantasies?

The sages tell us that examining our deeds is even more important than taming the beast by fasting. They tell us, in fact, to examine our own deeds and those of your ancestors. Go back over your family’s spiritual history, not with the end goal of judging them, since you didn’t stand in their shoes, but with the goal of moving beyond their errors and not perpetuating their mistakes. I sometimes wonder how things would have worked out in my own family, if my grandfather would have really grasped that without Torah learning the heritage that he sincerely wanted to pass on would evaporate in two generations.

Love, and hope that next letter brings better news with it,
Tziporah

Jewish Power Lunch

This post was first posted on Healthy Jewish Cooking and the author’s BT story can be found here.

We’re told that if we eat the right foods, take the right supplements, eat at the right times (and with the right people), exercise, and so forth, we’ll see powerful changes in our lives.

The teachings of the Chassidic mystics, which can be simply defined as “applied Kabbala”, show us another food-related way to power-up. It seems that what we eat, while important, is less important than what our spiritual experience of eating actually is. In a way, eating is ¹prayer.

Likutey Tefilos is a collection of indelibly moving prayers on every topic–you can say the prayers as is, or use them as a springboard to your own personal prayers. It was written and complied by Reb Noson, Rebbe Nachman of Breslov’s primary student. Reb Noson was instructed by the Rebbe to take his ²teachings and turn them into prayers. He taught that knowledge accumulated without then applying it to one’s life and using it to strengthen one’s personal connection to the Creator, isn’t really knowledge at all.

It isn’t just Breslov Chassidus–Jewish wisdom across the sects and centuries has always insisted that one who is a scholar must be changed at his core by his scholarship–otherwise his scholarship is hollow, indeed.

In the introduction to prayer 47, in Volume 3 of the collection called The Fiftieth Gate (a translation of Likutey Tefilos published by the Breslov Research Institute), we read: “When a person eats only to satisfy his soul and not due to physical desires, G-d feeds him from the trait of truth. Then, when he praises G-d with the power that he derives from such eating, he speaks words of truth. Then this person can perform miracles.”

And: “If…a person is steeped in the desire for eating, G-d hides his countenance from him, and the person is far from truth.”

At the highest level are those who eat only in order to say the blessing over the food as well as because they must in order to live and serve G-d. That level is truth. The rest of us must start from “where we’re at”. Where we’re at can vary widely. Are we mindlessly pigging-out on entire bags of chips or containers of ice cream? Is there a reason that overeating and binging invokes the name of an unkosher animal rather than, say, the kosher goat, which also eats everything in sight?

Are we gourmets, constantly focus on creating and/or consuming tantalizing dishes whenever possible and not just in honor of Shabbos and the holy days? That was one of my weaknesses–I loved the process of creatively cooking and lovingly feeding people and, I admit, receiving praise for my efforts.

Are we rigid about the nutritional content and energetic balance of our foods, unable to bend at special occasions or when guests in people’s homes or unable to allow others to eat what they like?

For me, keeping the weekday meals simple, usually vegan, with the focus primarily on health, was a great place to start. I was first inspired to do this a few years ago when I heard someone say that “she couldn’t help it if she simply preferred the best of everything”. She insisted on travelling out of her way and mine to purchase an extremely expensive, hard-to-find chocolate (one with all the foodie bells and whistle). I don’t recall all the details but what springs to mind was that the chocolate had a delirium-inducing cacao percentage, was made with beans grown organically at the top of a mountain on a tropical island, hydrated by spring water hauled by hand up the mountain in golden buckets, then, when ripe, handpicked by poetry-spouting children under the age of seven, wrapped in handmade linen paper and flown business class directly to the Upper West side. Or something like that. I might be exaggerating a bit.

I had a horrifying shock of self-recognition, albeit I wasn’t that extreme or that extravagant. Seriously, anyone can spend their life cultivating and refining their tastes and strengthening their desires so that they constantly long for the rarest and the best. This does not a meaningful life make.

Yet, this has largely become America’s mainstream food culture. Think the Food Channel and designer kitchens that take two years to build. Think Chicago suburbanites who can easily tell you where the real foodies eat when in Sardinia, Madrid, or Taipei.

We’ve been Frenchified! The American Coasts (and places in between) are now rife with deadly earnest oeno-gastronomes who pepper everyday chat with terms like affineur, artisanal, and achiote.

This lurch towards Roman-empire scale food obsession (what next, ³vomitoria?), has had an effect on America’s sub-cultures, too. American Jews of all stripes from the most secular to the *Super-Orthodox have their share of gourmandising/gourmeting going on at a scale never-before seen. And not just at weddings and bar mitzvahs. Jewish magazines are packed with glossy food photos, recipes by Kosher-chef superstars, and glamorous table settings. There seems to be a food-style war going on between the two glossiest of these magazines.

For some reason, it’s easy to forget that Judaism is less a religion than a totally-encompassing life path. It’s easy to forget that how we approach eating is intricately bound with how we approach Judaism and and also tied in with what we understand our life-purpose to be.

In case that’s all a bit too heavy, here’s something light: my latest favorite hot-weather Jewish power lunch.

Jewish Power Lunch for 2

1 ripe avocado, peeled and diced

1 cup mixed sprouts (clover, broccoli, alfalfa is nice)

1 cup sprouted chickpeas (optional)

2 scallions, sliced

handful of sprouted or toasted pumpkin seeds or almonds

1/4 cup chopped fresh herbs such as cilantro, parsley, mint

2 cups mixed lettuces

Juice of one lemon

Pinch of chipotle chile powder

1 teaspoon Bragg’s liquid aminos or your favorite soy sauce

Wash lettuce and scallions and check for insects. Toss all ingredients together in large bowl.

¹Prayer in the Jewish sense isn’t about pleading with G-d to give you what you desire. (Although that is sometimes part of prayer). The Hebrew word for prayer is tefilla which is related to the word for judgment, lehitpallel. Prayer is the time where, while conversing and connecting with G-d, you also reflect on (hence, judge) yourself.

²Each of these prayers can be used as part of a comprehensive applied study of one of the Rebbe’s lessons from his powerful magnum opus, Likutei Moharan.

³There probably were no such things as vomitoria at Roman banquets. Scholars say the vomitorium is most likely a myth.

*Super sounds so much nicer in these times than Ultra.

Declaration of Dependence

by Chaim G.

Today is Independence Day. Guess this is one of those quirky years when it coincides with July the 4th. It is a day when we grill the flesh of bovines in our backyards and our own epidermis’ on beaches. Somewhere, deep in the hidden strata of our collective societal subconscious, we also exult in breaking the shackles of tyrannical monarchy to enjoy the diverse blessings of liberty and democracy.

The eternal question though is; is it good for the Jews?

Hobbes wrote that “the sovereign ruler is by definition above the law” and Jean Bethke Elshtain’s added, “laws take the form of his untrammeled will.” Without a doubt this puts all of his/her subject as at a vulnerable disadvantage. Yet the absence of sovereign monarchs from the world stage puts us at a distinct disadvantage in terms of our relationships with HaShem. Lacking kings claiming “the Divine Right (to rule)” we are short of living breathing metaphors for the right of the Divine King. Every brakha containing the phrase Melekh HaOlam= King of the Universe, every Avinu Malkenu, rings hollow without any sense of the majesty, sovereignty and POWER of Princes.

All brakhos are phenomenological. While saying “Blessed are you HaShem, King of the Cosmos, who created the fruit of the vine” is always a true statement it’s a brakha l’vatala= a brakha in vain unless one is about to imbibe wine/ grape juice. Still, by and large, brakhos are opportunistic. We seldom find a halakha of striving to come in contact with a phenomenon that forces a brakha. The brakha pronounced over kings is a notable exception. The Gemara in Brakhos states that one should exert themselves to see kings, even gentile kings. Also IIRC this is the only brakha in which hearing the phenomenon is sufficient and seeing is not required. IMO the brakha over Kings is exceptional because it is so essential for us to forge an authentic relationship with HaShem.

It is striking that King James I claimed for himself the right “to exalt low things, and abase high things, and make of their subjects like men at the Chesse.” It resonates with our liturgy in describing HaShem as a “mashpil geyim and maggbihah shefalim”. It is also extremely apt because it implies that although, in theory, the absolute Monarch could make up the rules as he goes along, there is, in fact, a game with certain immutable rules that cannot be flouted. Try as he might a sovereign monarch playing chess cannot move his Rooks as he would his Bishops. This speaks to HaShem’s “willingness” to abide by the “limitations” of “midah k’neged midah”= quid pro quo, in dealing with His chess pieces. Re HaShem although “He make-uh da game, He play-uh by da rules”

And while Adam Kirsch wrote in a recent NY Sun Review of Ms. Bethke Elshtain’s book Sovereignty: God, State, and Self that “natural law, history shows, has an unsettling malleability: It tends to become an honorific for prejudice and custom” the current era of the sovereign self, the logical conclusion of the French revolution and July 4th 1776, has culminated in “a self conceived in terms of total autonomy and absolute will — … a monster of egotism.”, in Ms. Elshtain’s view and the expressions of this egotism include radical feminism, sexual license, abortion rights, eugenics, stem cell research, and cloning.

So here’s my dilemma: While a Merciful Providence micromanaging history replaced monarchies with parliamentary democracies and directed a large chunk of His nearly shattered people to these shores in the years following the Holocaust, shores where we breathe free and enjoy religious liberty unprecedented in our long and bitter Galus=Diaspora, did He do so at the expense of His own “prestige” and, concomitantly, at the expense of our own ability to relate to Him in a real and authentic way? To wax metaphoric, did He “raise us on the wings of eagles” and take the hunters arrows for us yet again? And in so doing are the eaglets and chicks now orphans with warped views of their own Parent?

The article that inspired this post is here. Click on the link and read this provocative review. It alone is worth the price of admission!

First Published 7/2008

What to Do on a Long Shabbos Afternoon?

Hi,

I would like to just post a simple question to pose to the BT blogosphere:

What is a young, single BT girl to do on a long Shabbos afternoon?

I live in a small, heimish Jewish community where most girls are either married, or single and living with family.

There is usually about one class held per week, but afterwards I’m left without anything to do. Shall I start a chavrusa?

I feel bad bothering families and hanging out until Shabbos is over, so I need something to do rather than being an uninvited guest in some peoples’ homes when they would rather be napping on Shabbos afternoon. I do like taking their kids to the park while the parents nap.

I cannot sit in my apartment all day and do nothing!

Your ideas, please.

Thanks,

Devorah K. =)

This Cannot Go On

By Chaya Houpt

Around the time Y.B. and A.N. turned two, they started to Talk. Not just words, but sentences, and then plans and games and conspiracies. Where they had previously been mostly indifferent to each other’s presence, suddenly they were partners in crime. They would stay up for most of the night, chatting and laughing and playing.

I placed them in their cribs at 7 PM as usual, but now, instead of quietly thumbing board books and sleeping until 7 the next morning, they would party.

My husband and I would go to sleep around 11 or 12, lying in bed with clenched teeth as we listed to our daughters carry on from the nursery down the hall. The next day, they were miserable company: cranky, short-tempered and whiny. Each day, the cumulative sleep debt was worse.

And naptime was a problem, too. They wouldn’t nap at all in a room together. We set up a pack-n-play and carried Y.B. down to the laundry room each afternoon, where she would often be woken early by the doorbell.

This cannot go on, I said.

So we sought the advice of our parents, mentors and friends. We tried bribing, threatening and all kinds of parental trickery. There were staggered bedtimes, later bedtimes and I can’t even remember what else. It was frustrating. Infuriating, even. We felt so powerless.

Some of the things we tried helped a little. But mostly, the girls just grew out of it. They gradually got used to the wonder of verbal communication, and they learned to be quiet roommates.

How long did it take before they started going to sleep quietly at an early hour? Oh, about A YEAR.

. . .

Another story, this one about mornings:

I have encouraged my girls to be independent and self-sufficient from the youngest age. When they entered the “I do it by self” phase, I was thrilled. I watched in wonder as my tiny children performed more and more of their morning routine by themselves: getting dressed, brushing teeth.

And then, sometime around last November, it just stagnated. They started dawdling, protesting, refusing to do anything by themselves. Mornings became a nightmare.

This cannot go on, I said.

I wrote an email to Jenny. “I don’t want to start every day with a battle,” I wrote. “Here is what I have tried.” And I listed all the tricks and strategies I had employed.

Jenny empathized and offered some ideas and suggestions, which I implemented. It helped a lot, but A.N. was still having a lot of trouble getting out in the morning.

This cannot go on, I said, and in January I wrote Jenny again.

She helped me through the situation, and said, “If things are still terrible Purim-time, let’s rethink.”

Purim came and went. Pesach rolled around, and then Yom Haatzmaut. Last Sunday was Lag B’Omer. And even this morning, it was a battle to get A.N. dressed and out of the house.

And you know what? I’ve accepted it. I don’t feel the urgency to change or fix the situation. Maybe this CAN go on. Maybe I don’t need a solution, or maybe our family isn’t ready for a solution.

One day last week, my neighbor Leah observed that my kids have a hard time with the morning transition. It was good to get objective confirmation, because Leah is no stranger to the challenges of a house full of young children.

“Is it always the same kid?” she wanted to know.

“Nope,” I said, because though A.N. might present the most challenges, Y.B. and B.A. have been known to get into the elevator howling and refusing to put on shoes as well.

And then she said something like, “You are always so calm with them.” I don’t remember her exact words, because of all the noise from the choir of angels.

. . .

So that’s the thing. Every meltdown, every dragged-out journey to nursery school, every impossible morning presents a challenge: how can I fix this? How can I get this family running like a well-oiled machine?

But that’s not always the victory Hashem has in store for me. Maybe I am simply meant to try my best to help the situation, and when nothing works, I can accept reality as it is and know that I am growing stronger, more patient, more calm in the process.

This cannot go on? Why not? Here’s another one: this too shall pass. But not on my timeline.

Chaya blogs about parenting and life at All Victories.