A Baal Teshuva’s Letter to His Parents – Part 2

By Rabbi Benzion Kokis

Part 1 is here

Ideal scenarios rarely occur exactly according to plan. I would like to focus on what alternatives would be fair for you to expect, given our upbringing. I am going to look at three scenarios:

1. Your sons marry non-Jewish girls;
2. We adopt your ideal scenario;
3. We become more religious.

Let’s start by looking at the track record. The family trend, as it stands now, seems to favor intermarriage.

My great-grandparents were still fairly observant, but markedly less so than their own parents. Grandpa’s generation can be described as “traditional”, but they would bear little resemblance to their grandparents.

Most of Grandpa’s nephews and nieces married out. As each generation drifted further from the source of Torah Judaism, this is unfortunately the result. The intermarriage rate in our family is worse than the national average.

Ask yourselves, how Jewish will the next generation be, if the mothers didn’t feel that Judaism was important enough to marry a Jewish man?

Therefore, it would seem to be quite likely, that at least one of your sons would have married a non-Jew. By becoming religious, I have made the odds considerably better in your favor.

Then again, we could all aim for your ideal package. But the reality is, that each successive generation tends to take on less religious practices. Your ideal is that we marry girls of a similar level of observance that we keep at home. This is not such a simple thing, as at least 50% of the Jewish girls are going to marry out, and of the remainder many are a lot less observant. I don’t think you would feel comfortable if we married Jewish girls who served up pork.

Therefore, it is unrealistic to expect exactly the same level of observance. I am taking on more, A______ seems to be taking on less, and R________ is still young, so it’s too soon to tell.

The only remaining alternative is that we become more religious, and take a leap back toward our great-great-grandparents. We would marry glatt kosher girls and live very happy lives (and be considerably less likely to get divorced!). You may safely assume that I at least will follow this path.

The way I see my life progressing, I will, with the help of G-d (who is now rather important in my life), meet most of your “ideal son list” . I know I will be happy, and I pray that I will be successful. I know that I won’t marry a non-Jewish girl, and will (G-d willing) marry a nice kosher girl and have as many children as possible. I might even join the Masons and keep up my golf subscriptions. I will also look after you both when you are old and gray.

Tell me, would you not be very happy if this is how my life turned out?
(The casual, conversational tone reassures his parents that their son has not become a stranger. He is not preaching or pontificating to them, and he is clearly trying to communicate in terms to which they can relate.)

The process I am going through is very difficult. You must wonder why I am doing it. Why would I want to keep Shabbos, rather than going to the game? Why should I keep kosher, when you know how much I enjoy Chinese, Italian, and fish and chips? Why go celibate, when I could continue to exploit my good looks, charm, sophistication and wit, to their best advantage? Why would I want to spend hours a week learning Torah, when I could spend the time watching T.V.? Why would I want to get up at 6 AM and put on my tefillin, when I could easily just roll over?

It might sound corny, but I believe in G-d. I believe that He gave us the Torah, and and that we as Jews should live by it. I don’t see it as dated or irrelevant, but rather as deep, beautiful, and very relevant to how we need to operate in this very complicated world.

I believe that living the kosher way will make me a better person, and more content with life. The more I accomplish, the happier I am, the more I learn, the more complete I feel, and the more I know, the better I become. I feel I am growing all the time.

I realize that going through your minds right now is the thought that I have been brainwashed. The integrity which you have taught me, however, does not enable me to ignore what I see as correct. Don’t think for a moment that I accept anything without questioning it. I question almost everything. I spend lots of time standing around arguing points with rabbis.

Part III is scheduled to be posted tomorrow.

A Baal Teshuva’s Letter to His Parents – Part 1

By Rabbi Benzion Kokis

It is often very difficult to have a calm discussion with family and friends about the changes a ba’al t’shuva has made. There is too much emotional baggage, too many sensitivities that can be hurt, to expect a rational dialogue. On the contrary, it is much more likely that the discussion will be a catalyst to dredge up old resentments, and result in more, not less, acrimony.

What has proven to be much more effective is communicating through the almost forgotten art of letter-writing. Granted, in our day of mobile communications and instant messaging, the thoughtful articulation of ideas on paper seems almost quaint. But in this context, it has a tremendous advantage, because it creates the opportunity for a message to be gradually absorbed at an emotional distance. There is no need for immediate give and take, and there is time for much more than knee-jerk reactions.

We would like to present here a letter that was written by a ba’al t’shuva to his parents. He was traveling home to England for the first time since becoming religious, and anticipated a lot of turbulence and hurt feelings. One of several brothers, he had been given a “traditional” Jewish upbringing, meaning a secure sense of being Jewish, but only a smattering of knowledge, and token observance of Shabbos and holidays.

Along the way, we will spotlight certain facets of the letter that reflect, sensitive and skillful communication. We will present this letter in three parts with comments in parenthesis.. Here is part I:

My dear parents,

I hope this letter finds you all in good health. I am going to be home on the 24th of July, and I am looking forward to giving you both a big hug. I am not the best letter-writer in the world, but am now putting my best pen to paper. I feel that it is very important to share with you some of my thoughts and feelings before coming home. I want to have a close relationship with you, and a letter is the easiest way for me to give you an awareness of where I am religiously.

(An emotional tone has been set. He is communicating because he loves his parents, and, realizing that the changes he has made could cause problems, he hopes to avoid this by having a mature discussion before coming home. He has made it clear that far from being oblivious to the family connection, he seeks to maintain that warmth, and let it be a vehicle for enhanced understanding.)

In America the question, ”Where are you holding?”, is asked by religious people to those like myself who are becoming more observant. The question is where are you, on what stage or level, and implies that there are many levels one can be on.

I would like to share with you where I am “holding”, and show you what a positive thing it is for me. I would also like to allay some of your fears about a “religious lifestyle”, and your role in my life. I would love it if you could, but I don’t necessarily expect you to understand why I am becoming religious.

(He acknowledges his parents’ trepidation about the impact his becoming a ba’al t’shuva may have on the family, without blaming or indicting them. In addition, their understanding of his life changes will be welcome to him. In other words, in the emotional sense, he is still very much their son, whose parents’ validation is significant to him.)

My becoming more observant is a testimony to the upbringing which you have given me. The values you taught me are all part of a Torah way of life. You gave me a Jewish education from the beginning of my schooling: King David, classes at shul, Givat Washington, and Carmel College. You even encouraged me to go to Manchester Polytechnic rather than to St. Andrews University. You have given me nothing but support and encouragement all the way along. You laid the foundations for my religious observance.

(Telling his parents that he views his rather dramatic life changes as a continuum of his upbringing, and not a radical departure, reassures them that he is not rejecting them. Their relationship is intact, although many details may have shifted.)

So, why am I writing this letter? My difficulty is where I am “holding”. In a sense, I now know too much to go back to the level of observance I held before coming to America. I am concerned that you will feel that I am becoming too religious, and going too far.

I have spent a lot of time thinking about what I feel you have always wanted for your boys. Let me paint what I see as your ideal picture:

We would all marry nice Jewish girls; be happy, successful, and live comfortable lives; have children (2-4); go to shul every Shabbos, keep the same level of kashrus, traditions, etc., that we grew up with; give to JNF; join the Masons; and look after you when you are old and gray.

Ideal scenarios rarely occur exactly according to plan. I would like to focus on what alternatives would be fair for you to expect, given our upbringing. I am going to look at three scenarios:

1. Your sons marry non-Jewish girls;
2. We adopt your ideal scenario;
3. We become more religious.

Part II is scheduled to be posted tomorrow.

Continuing to Access the Power of Chanukah

We pasken like Beis Hillel and we increase the candles as Chanukah progresses indicating an increase in accessing the power of the holiday.

R’ Yaakov Astor discusses this in Reality and Potential


Most people can experience the initial joy that comes along with lighting the menorah. By the second day, for many of us, the flush of the experience is not as intense. By the third day, it is even less so, and keeps on diminishing with each ensuing day.

But for others whose spiritual sensitivity is deep and internal, they experience the joy of the festival in an ever increasing fashion, with the last day being the climax.

Beit Shammai say we structure the law according to the average Jew who uses only his nefesh. Therefore, it is logical to start off with eight candles the first day when the novelty of the mitzvah and the flash of inspiration elevate the act for even the average Jew. Since each ensuing day becomes less intense and more routine, we naturally decrease as we go.

Beit Hillel may in fact agree that the majority of Jews experience Chanukah on a lower, nefesh level. However, they say that the law in this case must be groomed according to the minority of individuals who strive for the deepest experience and the greatest spiritual heights. Accordingly, we start off with one candle on the first day and increase each ensuing day. The law reflects the experience of the elevated Jew, whose experience increases with intensity as Chanukah wears on.

From another perspective, Beit Hillel are saying that the law must accommodate human potential — what a person can ideally become, while Beit Shammai reason that law must accommodate reality — the present level on which we actually find ourselves.

Read the whole article here.

Rabbi Noson Weisz explains the spiritual battle mankind faces and our role in it in Chanukah and The Importance of Being Jewish :


The current spiritual era of human history can be characterized as one of knowledge/belief. One can no longer detect God’s Presence in the world through the use of his ordinary senses, as God no longer makes Himself so available. It is no longer possible to reach God through the channel of direct communication. Human dealings with God must be based on the more subtle basis of deductive knowledge or belief. This spiritual era began with the construction of the Second Temple by the Members of the Great Assembly. Its two seminal markers were the development of the Oral law and the Mishna on the one hand, and the rise and spread of Greek philosophy and science on the other.

It isn’t by coincidence that the Miracle of the Lights associated with the Menorah is the symbol of the Jewish victory over the Syrian Greeks. The Menorah symbolizes knowledge. In spiritual terms, light and oil symbolize the ability of Divine Wisdom [the light] to be expressed in terms of human knowledge [the oil]. The word for oil in Hebrew is shemen, which is a compression of the word shemona, the number eight, symbolizing the heavenly Sphere of Bina, or understanding. All human knowledge is an expression of the spark of Divine knowledge contained within it.

To understand the spiritual essence of the world, we must realize that knowledge can cast darkness as well as light. Before the advent of Greek science and culture, it was impossible to look at the world and not see God. Nothing about the world could be explained other than in divine terms. Before the world could pass into a spiritual historic era where God was not universally manifest, man had to develop a system of knowledge that could explain the major phenomena of existence without the need of constantly referring to God [or gods].

We have hit upon the problem of Jewish ‘mityavnim.’ Being Jewish is important only because of the special knowledge that we Jews have to offer the world. Inasmuch as our spiritual era concerns the struggle between the two systems of knowledge, the system represented by the Oral law, versus the system represented by Greek culture, and whereas we Jews are the sole repositories of the system of knowledge represented by the Oral law, we are very important indeed. The track that leads back to Sinai can only be followed through the Torah. But Jews who embrace the other knowledge are as necessary to the world as the Italians in our example. They merely add color.

And that precisely is the tragedy of the Jewish ‘mityavnim.’ The nations never accept the Jewish abandonment of Judaism. Whether Jews prefer the foreign culture to their own or not, in the eyes of the world they remain members of the Jewish people who are truly unique in terms of embodying the very system of knowledge to which the ‘mityavnim’ no longer subscribe.

Read the whole article here.

Yakov’s Kiruv Dilemma

By Arieh Bauer

There is a Rashi in Vayishlach that fascinates me so much. Yakov hid his daughter Dina in a box to protect her from Eisav – and he got punished for it. Why? Because she could have approached Esav from “within”, getting married to him and to pull him over to the “good side of the force”.

As BTs we have a very similar dilemma regarding our kids. As we have a special role and the abilities to approach not frum people from within, by speaking their language, understanding their mindset and way of life, we might ask us the same question, that Yakov asked himself: Is it worth “risking” your children to bring back somebody else to Judaism?

And it is especially a question regarding our kids. We think about this question, when we have to decide in which school to send them. With which neighbors they are allowed to interfere. And what kind of guests we invite for Shabbos.

We know that the kids have a monumental power to do Kiruv, because of their untouched souls and their innocent natures. The kid’s strong believe in G-d, can touch an adult from “within”. Somehow BT-Kids are born into Kiruv and one of the toughest warriors to spread Hashems light. Still, even the BT understands that there are indeed risks that he has to avoid regarding his kids. But its not like he hides his kids in a box!

Interestingly, Yakov – the FFB – took a very “Charedi” approach: He closed his daughter off, hid her from the “not frum side”. But he ended up being punished for it! Didn’t Yakov know any better? A man, who spoke to G-d frequently and the biggest Talmid Chacham on earth in his time?

Seen from the perspective of a BT’s daily life and the small and big dilemmas he faces every day regarding this question, it is hard so understand his decision. Dina could have been a superb “Kiruv-Rebezin” and turn Eisav over into a Tora-true BT! And this would be the best thing that could happen! Because Torah is the best thing that could happen to anybody, even to Eisav. And nobody knows that better than a BT.

But from Yakovs FFB-perspective, it is highly understandable why he had to act like that. He didn’t see Eisav as a potential BT. He saw him as an enemy, as someone who goes against his core values and touches the inner nerve of his spiritual being. His daughter was his “capital”. He invested in her Chinuch, in her Yiras Shomayim and her Torah education. Why spilling out this treasure and risk her for a plain “Rasha”? Sending out a girl for “Kiruv”? Unthinkable!

Now, it wouldn’t be fair to make the point “you see, he got punished for it… the BTs are right…”. Because its not our calculation why Hashem does something to someone – even when Rashi explains it explicitly, its just not our “Cheshbon”. And if you want, you could argue, that it was a certain “Mesirus Nefesh” of Yakov to protect his daughter, even though that he knew that he will get punished for it.

But what really seems to be the case here is, that the scene with “Dina in the Box” has something to do with our times, the times of “Chevlei Mashiach”.

As the Parsha develops there are several hints in the scripture and in the commentaries, that the two brothers – Yakov and Eisav – will meet once again in the future. They will meet again, when Mashiach comes and “Yakov will conquer the mountain of Eisav”.

So maybe this whole issue with Dina is Mashiach-related as well. One could even argue that when Dina will “jump out of her box”, it will finally lead us to the Ge’ula.

For sure, one always has to weigh the risk and the profits of exposing his children to not frum people. But closing us off seems not to be the right, Torah-oriented approach, in a way. We have to get “out of the box”!

Arieh Bauer, born 1978 in Vienna, Austria (Europe), is an almuni of Yeshivat HaKotel in Jerusalem and author of the book “Der Leiner” about the Parshas HaShavua published in February 2014 in German. It is the first book in German of its kind. Bauer also publishes a weekly Parsha-Sheet “Der Leiner” in German in its fourth year. It is availabe at the israeli portal www.ladaat.info. He also mainains a website in German (www.derleiner.com) with a Parsha-Blog and Parsha-Archives. A rabbinic endorsement of his book is available at his homepage under Endorsement Der Leiner.

Showing Respect For Your Family

By Rabbi Benzion Kokis

In the interaction between a ba’al t’shuva and his family, very often the religious issues, in and of themselves, aren’t the source of the difficulties. Rather, the family’s perception that for the ba’al t’shuva, all that matters are the religious issues, and their impact on family and friends is irrelevant- that is painful.

This is why the communicating that there is in fact a certain level of conflict and turmoil is so vital. The awareness that my commitment to Torah and Halacha are complicating the lives of people whom I love and care about, can make such a tremendous difference in how these situations are received. The “sigh” has to be expressed.

But one may be moved to respond….Just a minute! Does this mean that a ba’al t’shuva should be apologetic about his commitment?! Isn’t this a lack of respect for the fact that Torah is true, and it’s my family, albeit through no fault of their own, who have deviated from the way Jews lived throughout the ages? And you want me to feel like I’m doing something wrong??!!

This is where finesse is crucial. Granted, on one level, the demands of Halacha, such as the requirements of kashrus, are absolutes. The weight of truth, and the historic devotion of the Jewish people over the centuries to Torah, are all on the side of the ba’al t’shuva. Yet, in terms of family dynamics, he is the one who changed the rules! Every family unit has an unspoken “contract”, an expectation of how its members relate to each other. On a human and personal level, the level of trust within the family unit, the contract has been changed. The ba’al t’shuva is the “belligerent”, because in terms of the relationship, he has changed the terms of the family unit and “caused” the “complications”.

What impact does this have? Are we saying that this affects the requirements of the Halacha?

Certainly not!

What this does mean is that a responsibility lies on the ba’al t’shuva to anticipate potential problems, and make every attempt to minimize their impact. For instance, there could be creative ways to satisfy the demands of kashrus without compromising, in a manner that will be less of an issue for his family. He should sit down with a Rabbi and describe the challenges that he will face, and find out what he can do to accommodate the demands of the situation .

Furthermore, the more his family has to make adjustments to accommodate his new requirements, the more he has to express his love and appreciation to his family! After all, they are, in their own way, being moser nefesh to allow him to be religious. If, on the contrary, he seems to take their adjustments for granted, and conveys an attitude that since he’s living in an authentic Jewish way, it behooves them to adjust to him, this will definitely leave a sour taste with his family.

Even in situations where accommodation turns out to be impossible, despite the efforts that were put in, the fact that the ba’al teshuva made the attempt still expresses to the family that their feelings are important to him. Very often, this can neutralize much of the pain and hurt that would otherwise occur.

Parsha Vayetzei and Thanksgiving

From Sara Yoheved Rigler – Beyond Just Desserts: A Recipe of Thanksgiving:

JUST DESSERTS

Ten years later I was learning Torah in Jerusalem. The Rabbi was explaining why the matriarch Leah named her fourth son Yehuda, a name derived from the word “to thank.” Since the moniker “Jew” derives from the name “Yehuda,” thanking is somehow integral to being Jewish.

But why did Leah wait until her fourth child to use this name? Wasn’t she more grateful for her first child than her fourth?

Gratitude is a function not of how much we have, but rather of how much we have relative to how much we feel we deserve.

The Rabbi, citing classical commentators, explained that Jacob’s four wives knew prophetically that they would give birth to the twelve sons who would become the progenitors of the twelve tribes of Israel. Since there were four wives, each one expected to give birth to three sons.

When Leah gave birth to her fourth son, she felt that she had received more than her fair share. So she named him Yehuda, saying, “This time I will thank God.”

This teaches us something essential about gratitude. Gratitude is a function not of how much we have, but rather of how much we have relative to how much we feel we deserve.

When you have worked hard at your job, you usually do not feel flooded with gratitude when you pick up your paycheck. Even a holiday bonus may come to be expected as your just desserts and not elicit a great surge of gratitude – unless it is a far bigger sum than you feel you deserve.

The opposite of gratitude is a feeling of entitlement. The attitude of “I deserve it” turns every gift into a paycheck.

……

A RECIPE FOR GRATITUDE

Here, then, are the 4 steps to gratitude:

1. Recognize the good that you possess.
2. Acknowledge that it is a gift, not something you deserve.
3. Identify the source of the gift, whether God or a human being.
4. Express your thanks.

The Pilgrims of the first Thanksgiving obviously traversed these four steps. They were grateful not for their high standard of living, but simply that they had survived their first winter in the New World. Deeply religious people, they felt gratitude to God. The first Thanksgiving feast was their way of expressing that gratitude to God.

According to Judaism, gratitude is the basis of everything: faith, joy, awe, and love of God. Only when we recognize how much God has given us and how little we deserve it, can we come to a place of faith and love.

Little wonder that a Jew is supposed to start every day with an expression of thankfulness for life itself, the recitation of the modeh ani.

———————

What better way to show gratitude to Hashem then by using some of our free time to learn Torah. Here’s Rabbi Rietti’s outline of Vayetzei. You can purchase the entire outline of the Chumash here.

Vayetze
# 28 Yaakov’s Dream
# 29 Yaakov Marries 4 Wives
# 30 Birth of Tribes & Yosef
# 31 Yaakov Flees from Lavan
# 32 Yaakov Enters Erets Yisrael

# 28 Yaakov’s Dream
* Yaakov goes to Haran
* Dream – Ladder
* Yaakov Builds an Altar
* Yaakov’s Promise

# 29 Yaakov Marries 4 Wives
* Yaakov removes stone from well
* Yaakov Marries Leah and Rachel
* Leah childs: Reuven-Shimon-Levi-Yehuda

# 30 Birth of Tribes & Yosef
* Yaakov angry with Rachel
* Bilha childs: Dan-Naftali
* Zilpa childs: Gad-Asher
* Doodayim
* Leah childs: Yisachar-Zevulun-Dina
* Rachel childs Yosef
* Yaakov wants to leave
* The Maklot
* Yaakov’s vast wealth

# 31 Yaakov Flees from Lavan
* HaShem tells Yaakov to return to the land of his fathers
* Yaakov confers with Rachel and Leah in the field
* Yaakov escapes
* Rachel stole Lavan’s idols
* Lavan in hot pursuit
* HaShem warns Lavan not to harm Yaakov
* Lavan rebukes Yaakov
* Yaakov’s response
* Lavan “everything you have is mine!”
* Treaty of Gal Eid between Yaakov and Lavan

# 32 Yaakov Enters Erets Yisrael
* Lavan returns home
* Yaakov enters Eretz Yisrael

Musical Choices for Observant Adults and Their Children

By Chaim

In 2007, I received a lot of emails regarding Matisyahu. Three e-mails have stood out for me and I wish to just lightly touch on them right now. All three were written by Baalei Teshuvah and people now raising their own children in a frum environment. They each wrote about the struggles they face in determining how much they allow their children to be exposed to from their past.

I think a lot of what Baalei Teshuvah deal with when it comes to their own parenting is the extreme disconnect many “BT’s” feel dealing with “FFB’s.” What they may not realize is that once they start raising their own kids in a frum community, sending them to frum schools, frum camps, their own kids become FFB’s.

There is something inherently different about a Baal Teshuvah and a Frum From Birth. A BT has something that is so pure and divine in what they have done that it often produces actions and feelings that a FFB will or struggles to have. When you discover something amazing on your own, after having experienced something else, and decide to embrace that something special, it changes you. Changing your whole life from top to bottom for the sake of your spiritual soul is something that an FFB cannot relate to.

As I have written before, I am a product of a two parent Baal Teshuvah home. My parents were there for me, they tried to help me but I knew that I would never see Yiddishkeit through their eyes. In some way the spiritual journey of an FFB is that much harder then a BT.

I remember when I was 15 I was getting a ride to Yeshivah with a family friend who had just become frum. He was asking me different questions about what Yeshiva is like because he was thinking about going to a BT Yeshiva. I will never forget that gleam in his eye. When he talked about his spirituality and how he wanted to learn more and become more, there was just something in his eyes. It was like he just “knew” what he wanted. He just “felt it” on a level that I feared I would never experience.

As I got older I had my own personal spiritual struggles. By the time I was 20 I had reconnected. Thats an experience I’d rather not share here, but it was special and in many ways I consider myself a FFB/BT hybrid. With that said I understand how many BT parents find is so difficult to raise their own kids in an “Uncle Moishy” world when they themselves feel more like “Maitisyahu’s.”

One of the BT’s who wrote me, spoke how he never gave up Rock ‘N Roll. At first he wanted to hide it from his growing children, but eventually it became something in the house where the kids knew this was the fathers thing. It’s not easy to strike those balances. How can I listen to Pearl Jam, but only let my children listen to Avraham Fried and Yaacov Shwekey.

There’s much to think about regarding this topic.

Originally Posted in 2007

Succah: A Temporary Structure

One of the interesting laws about a succah is that it isn’t allowed to be too high. How high is too high? The Mishnah tells us: 20 Amos, which is about 35 feet tall.

The Talmud explains that a succah has to be a temporary structure. It is meant to represent the travels of the Jews in the desert after The Exodus from Egypt. Likewise it is supposed to represent the transient nature of our material possessions in this world. “If the succah is too high it is invalid, because it will have to be built in a more permanent way.”

Interestingly, the Talmud maintains that a person is allowed to build a permanent succah, as long as it isn’t too high. It is only when a person builds a succah in a way that it is so high that it must be permanent, that halacha declares it invalid.

A few months ago I read an article written by a woman who described a life altering odyssey that she had undergone. She described how at the age of eighteen she was engaged to a wonderful man. She considered him the best guy in the world, and he catered to her every desire. And then he broke the engagement. He told her, “I really liked you. But I see that with you everything must be ‘just so’ for you to be happy. I cannot live a life like that.”

The writer explains how pained she was by the broken engagement. But eventually she took his words to heart, and realized that he was right. She was living a life where everything had to be just right for her to be happy. And she decided that she must change.

She began to challenge herself in every area of life to prove that she could survive in different circumstances. First she skipped meals occasionally; then she fasted. Sometimes she went to sleep late, sometimes she woke up early, even though this deprived her of her normal sleep routine. She came to realize that life still worked even if things weren’t the way she preferred.

We do not wish on anyone the challenging experiences that that woman went through. We certainly bless people with a life that is stable, permanent, and comfortable. But the message of the succah is that it doesn’t have to be perfect for us to be able to function. Our living life correctly doesn’t hinge on everything being “just right”.

When you build your succah you may build it permanent and beautiful. But you may not build it at a height that requires that it must be permanent, because that symbolizes an attitude that everything must be “just right”, otherwise it will not stand.

The Mishnah in Avos states that if a person wants to succeed in Torah he should, “Eat bread, drink water, and sleep on the floor.” Certainly there are people who have succeeded in Torah even though their menu was more varied than the Mishnah describes, and their accommodations more comfortable than sleeping on the floor.

What the Mishnah seems to be conveying is that to succeed in Torah, you have to realize than amenities are not requirements. You can build your succah as permanent as you wish, as long as your succah is not built in such a way that it must be permanent.

As one man said to me: I will mortgage my home if I must. I will sleep in a tent if that is what is required. But my daughter must have a Jewish education.

So as you build your succah of life, make sure to build it in a way that recognizes that it could be temporary. In that way you will ensure that your’s will be a succah that will last forever.

With best wishes for a wonderful Yom Tov,

Rabbi Mordechai Rhine
Originally Published October 2009

On Which Day of Rosh Hashana Will You Be Judged?

Rabbi Noson Weisz has a great article on the judgment of Rosh Hoshanah based on the writings of Rabbi Dessler in his work Michtav Mieliyahu.

On the first day of Rosh Hashana God only considers the cases of the people who are sincerely committed to developing themselves spiritually. It is they who offer Him investment opportunities, because it is they who require the renewal of His Kingdom. After carefully assessing the seriousness and feasibility of the proposals that are submitted, He determines the inputs that each individual whose case is being deliberated requires to actualize his ideas in the coming year, and weaves all these individual requirements into a common tapestry and recreates a world that will correspond exactly with the combined requirements.


The cases of all the people who did not pass muster on the first day are judged on the second. After God maps out the dimensions of His new Kingdom on the first day based on the requirements of those who were judged worthy of investment, on the second day He considers all the lives that need to be renewed to make His new Kingdom function.

Even if we focus only on religious requirements the new world requires a large population. The people for whom the world was recreated on the first day need synagogues in which to pray; this means that you will need a quorum of people to be written in the Book of Life even if there is only a single member who passed muster on the first day. They will need Talmudic academies in which to study; a functioning academy must have a large student body, teachers, administrators, maintenance people etc.; hundreds of people can be written into the Book of Life in the merit of the few students who actually require the academy for their spiritual growth. First day people require Kosher food to eat; thousands of people can be written into the Book of Life to make sure that there is a functioning food industry. If you think about it there are literally millions of functions that must be filled in order to keep the spiritual world functioning.

Please go and read the whole article.

Lifecycle Events: The Bris

One’s first Bris of a child can be a difficult event for the BT. There are many details to take care and it’s a very hectic time. Perhaps the Beyond BT community can share their insights into the following questions.

1) How do you select a Mohel and when should you call him?
2) Should you invite people to the Bris?
3) What are the considerations in choosing a Sandek? How about the other honors at the Bris?
4) What are the potential trouble spots when choosing a name?
5) Should you give both a Hebrew and and English name?

A lot of helpful comments in this post from the archives.

Will Modern Orthodoxy Survive?

Dr. Alan Brill has a brilliant analysis of the question:
Will Modern Orthodoxy Survive?

Here’s an excerpt:

Modern Orthodoxy is both terminable and interminable. All constructions of modern Orthodoxy are culturally situated and ever bound to a specific time. Even a single version consists of many trends, sub-movements, and cultural shifts.

All varieties of modern Orthodoxies have commonalities based on ideology, people, institutions, and texts, yet they are all terminable in that the resources, concerns, needs, and connections to other movements are all tied to a specific era. In our modern age, these constructions change regularly and rapidly, not that there is any specific need to respond to change, to assume any agency to change, or even to accept the changes.

One can personally continue to argue for a given ideology, but often one finds that it is hard to hold back time. There will no longer be a mass migration of near-illiterate peasant Russian Jews, nor will there likely be a need again for a response to the high modernism of Kant, Freud, or Existentialism; however, the need for articulate ideologies will remain an interminable need for religious communities.

Modernism and mid-20th century modern Orthodoxy may be gone, but, we can see that each era with their own ideology offers the needed construction for its community.

We are ‘Jewish’ Stardust

By Avraham Rosenblum of the Diaspora Band

On January 4th, 1971, I disembarked from the EL AL Boeing 707 at Lod Airport, suitcase and guitar in hand, in need of a change of scene. What I didn’t expect was the total change of direction I would take from following my dreams as an up-and-coming teen-aged rocker on the Philadelphia (my home town) and New York music scenes. But I need to back-track a little, to mid-August, 1969.

I was driving up the New York Thruway in my little brown Austen-America, heading to Montreal to drop in on some friends. I was running away from two heartaches; breaking up with my high school sweetheart, and my band, Valentine, falling apart. It was a great band. Philadelphia loved us. My girlfriend didn’t ‘get’ me anymore and so we broke up. Missing her gave me some good songs, though.

Somewhere around Yonkers I picked up a hitch-hiker whom I almost immediately poured my heart out to because, well, he dressed like me, had long hair, and had the same goofy sense of humor. As we got ‘goofier’ he asked me if I might want to distract myself at the Woodstock Music and Arts Festival, starting the next day near Monticello, NY. I had heard about it but had not planned to go. “Hey, dynamite idea!” I said.

‘By the time we got to Woodstock’

It was still pretty early on that Thursday, the day before the concerts started, when I parked near the festival site, somewhere just below Happy Avenue, one of the roads leading to the sloping, expansive meadow of Max Yasgur’s Farm. Along the upper ridge were the campers, tents, artisans and vendors, where it felt like a medieval village populated mostly by jesters. At the bottom of the meadow stood the huge hand-built stage, and the speaker towers. You could hear a band jamming in a closed rehearsal area. My passenger soon drifted away never to be seen again, and as I waded into the growing sea of happy people who also dressed and talked a lot like me, I got an epiphany that this was going to be a life changing event. “Far out, man!”.. I thought.

I was elated to be part of this new social order. I belonged in it. I had worked hard to forget my origins as a First Generation Yiddish speaking Holocaust Survivors kid from Northeast Philadelphia. My music and this culture were my way out and into the melting pot of America. My band-mates and friends were mostly children or grandchildren of Italian, Irish, and Scottish immigrants. Few were Jews. We were all looking for the same thing. And, me being me, I interpreted my Woodstock experience as spiritual, in the sense that our generation was in search of peace, love, harmony, anti the Vietnam War, and I was very impressed by the well-known turban clad swami who gave the opening benediction. For those few days we all partied, heard some great musicians and bands, and sang, “Come on people now / smile on your brother!/ everybody get together / try to love one another right now!” Peace brother! The swirls of images of ‘Woodstock’ that remain in my mind are proof- to myself – that I was there. Years later I even caught a glimpse of me in an early scene of the movie. See – I really was there!

One thing led to another quickly; the crowd got larger (500,000!), the music more intense, the weather rainier, and my sense of direction- which normally was quite acute – limited to ‘up or down’ mode. On Saturday night, after some hours of searching, I found my car. Six very helpful hippies helped me roll it out of the mud. I clearly remember feeling grateful to ‘someone’ that my guitars and belongings were still there. I was wet, chilled, and hungry, and stupidly determined to continue northward to Quebec even though the hour was getting late. But a few miles up the road I realized that the snaking center line was not a good sign as my head began to hurt and I started to feel feverish. I turned around and ‘somehow’ found Monticello General Hospital where, after a cursory look by a staffer, I was very kindly shown to a chair in the waiting room, in which I fell asleep.

‘My Yiddish Kite’

I awoke as people began to enter the room at 9 AM. I noticed a number of them were “frum” (although in those days I had no clue about Chassidim vs Misnagdim or Sefardic vs Ashkenazic. But I knew my family was from Vilna and that that made me a Litvak). So there I was – my unwashed shoulder length hair, love beads, well-worn denims, and muddy shoes on display, when I caught the glance of one young ‘yeshiva bochur’ whom I instantly greeted:

“Shalom! Vos machts du?” (Peace! How are you?)
“Vos tust’DE doh?”, (What are YOU doing here?) he asked with surprise.
“Ich hob kekumen tzu Woodstock!” (I attended Woodstock!) I answered forthrightly, as if to impress him.
“Un vus host’du gezucht bei Woodstock?” (And what were you looking for at Woodstock?) he asked with some genuine interest.
Switching to English, I said something about finding G-d in the big experience of unity, and not being limited to a synagogue. Unfazed, but needing to fulfill his mission of visiting a sick friend, the yeshiva bochur apologized for not having the time to continue our conversation and wrote down a phone number and address on a piece of notepaper which he handed to me while recommending “If you’re really looking for G-d and spirituality check this out. Shalom. Zei Gezundt!” (Be well!)

I did continue looking for G-d for the next year – in a small Jewish-Buddhist-Christian cult and through the Timothy Leary – ‘Doors of Perception’ method, while writing and performing songs written in that vein. But by September of 1970, when my last American band, Freehand, was getting good reviews in New York at the most notable Village Gate, in Greenwich Village, I was a mess and felt lost. I quit the band and within a month I reluctantly went home to my family back in Northeast Philadelphia. They were actually quite glad to see me. But the family dog, Dolly, was not happy to meet my cat, Thumb, who disappeared soon after.

I had one last encounter with possible fame that December, when a show business contact personally introduced me to legendary songwriters Barry Mann and Cynthia Weil (“On Broadway” and more) who took an interest in me for their new record label.

‘A Greener in a Green Land’

Well, I actually took that trip to Israel in 1971 with my mother, Edith, Aleha Ha’Shalom, and my Aunt Helene, Aleha Ha’Shalom. The family thought it would be good for me to get away from ‘everything’ and I decided that taking a break to see some of the world couldn’t hurt before I resumed my career. I called Barry and Cynthia to postpone my test sessions in New York for few weeks, which they were OK with.

When we landed all I could think was how green and fresh everything looked. It was in fact a brand new country – only 23 years old! I was 20. Something began to stir. I was excited to be there. Why? I wasn’t observant. I hadn’t gone to synagogue in years. What could it mean? I did try to volunteer to go to Israel in 1967, during the Six Day War. I was only 16 so the consulate rejected me. That was it. I also went to my Godmother’s funeral around that time too. That was Jewish, but.. Yes, I was feeling all kinds of feelings, seeing things I didn’t expect to see, asking all kinds of questions, and hearing the sounds of bubbles frequently bursting.

One afternoon as I walked along Rehov Allenby near our hotel, I noticed another guy carrying a guitar case. He looked American, the case looked like it might be carrying a quality instrument, and so I flagged him down. I was right on both counts, and soon Sam from Chicago and Allen (my English name) were jamming our way across Israel on buses, at Hebrew University Campus, and one cloudy but enlightening afternoon in the back of an Old City Arab smoke-shop, where we got “hookahed up” and played some good ole boy country music for the un-country-like, loose garbed patrons – and they loved it! From there, Sam led me to my first encounter with The Wailing Wall (which of course I now only know as The Kotel HaMaaravi) and a rabbi who had me put on Tefillin for the first time since my Bar Mitzvah. The sounds of Hebrew prayer all around me woke something up, and as the rabbi attempted to coach me in reading the blessings, my mouth had already formed the words – that flowed sweetly out across my tongue: “Shema Yisrael / Ado-Shem Elokeinu /Ado-Shem Echad…”

Just like that. What a long, strange trip it had been.

End of Part 1.

How Do You Stop a Baal Teshuva Back Slide?

The comments are where the meat and potatoes of this post are. – admin

By Michael

For a few months now I been having doubts, and I don’t know why, I think one of the main things that has really been bothering me is seeing so many orthodox sects, not get along with each other, like Satmar, Chabad, non-Chassidus. And so on.

I always thought we were one family, but when i see so much negativity from one group to another, it really bothers me and makes me upset that sometimes I doubt am I really doing the right thing?

So what do you do as a baal teshuva when for 2 years you were going in right direction and then things happen that creep up and you sort of back slide, but not intentionally?

Thanks

Originally Published 11/27/2007

Jewish Fundamentals – The Focus of Life is Continued Growth

Rabbi Akiva Grunblatt, Rosh Yeshiva of Yeshiva Chofetz Chaim gave an important shiur focusing on understanding what life for a Jew is about. The short answer is that life is about growing in our mitzvos and service of G-d on a day to day basis.

He discusses the origins of Rav Yisroel Salant’s thirteen attributes and points out that the thoughtful author of the attributes, Ben Franklin did not understand the need for a lifelong approach towards self-protection. Only Torah gives us the tools to pursue this perfection.

There are a number of other important foundation points and we hope you will download and listen to this mp3.

When Silence Means No

By Rebbetzin Tziporah Heller

“Even when you do what you know to be right…, you should feel humility and shame before Hashem.”

(Chouos Halevauos, Gate of Submission to Hashem, ch. 4)

I dumped my pocketbook out on the living room table, sure that the keys would come out of their hiding place, but they didn’t. It’s never good when you forget AMEN (Hebrew acronym for arnak, mafteichos and nayad — wallet, keys and mobile) before you leave the house.

This time it was more than unpleasant. Looking for the keys meant missing the last bus to the community where I was expected to speak. The women who arranged the evening were just beginning their journey toward greater observance, and coming late would potentially enforce some of their hoary old stereotypical images of chareidim.

I looked upward and said, “Hashem, You know where the keys are. If it’s Your will, open my eyes and let me find them.” I then put some money aside for tzedakah, re-examined the table, and found the keys where I must have looked but just not seen them. Hashem literally opened my eyes. I knew that my next response would be crucial.

How are you supposed to respond to an answered prayer?

There are several models. One is to react like an athlete who just broke a record: “Yes, folks, it was a lot of hard work, but I just kept going till I made it to the finish line.” In spiritual terms it might sound like: “I knew that davening would help. It works for me. I really had kavanah. It’s been so much easier since I learned through the sources. It’s just a skill like any other skill; since I mastered it everything is different.”

There are about four unnecessary references to self in this model, and no references to G-d. The subtle transformation of tefillah into what the Gemara calls “iyun tefillah” (Rosh Hashanah 16b) in the negative sense begins with subconsciously removing Hashem from the picture and substituting for it a curious form of self-empowerment. If you ever fall into this trap, try to recall the words spoken at Nachshon Wachsman’s funeral.

Nachshon was nineteen when he was abducted by Arabs on October 11, 1994. From the moment he was kidnapped his parents recognized that their son’s fate was determined by Heaven. Tens of thousands davened for him, including nonreligious mothers who lit Shabbos candles on his behalf.

No one will forget his father’s words to all those who had davened for his safe return: “G-d did listen to your prayers. Sometimes, just as a father would like to always say yes to all his children’s requests, sometimes he must say no, though the child may not understand why. So too our Father in Heaven heard our prayers, and His answer was no.” This response embodied absolute reliance on Hashem as was echoed by the mothers of the three kidnapped boys who unified the entire Jewish people in prayer. The words “regardless of the outcome, I will always have emunah” will never be forgotten.

This mindset leaves you open to make more and more supplications to the only One Who can really help. This is also called iyun tefillah, but it is of course seen as holy rather than at best a first step toward what tefillah is meant to be, or at worst a pathetic capitulation to your ego.

What are the mechanics of tefillah? Why even formulate words when the consequences are determined by Hashem, Who is fully aware of what we need the most?

Ramchal tells us (Derech Hashem, section 4, para. 5) that “In His infinite wisdom, Hashem created the world with rules and with order. One of His rules is that the created beings receive the flow of His goodness by being awakened to draw close to Him. The flow from Above, which descends, is in proportion to the awakening. The L-rd wants to give His creations daily all the goodness that they can receive. It is for this reason that prayer is the way that we draw down His blessing, which is given in accordance with what [His creatures] need, and what their position is in this world.”

Prayer is meant to draw you closer to Hashem. Ego can only take you further away from Him in every sense. When Hashem appeared to Avraham and asked him to leave everything and follow Him to the Land, He made promises. One of them was that He would empower Avraham to be a source of blessing. Avraham was humble enough to receive this gift. You can see this from the way he responded when his own prayers were not answered. He had beseeched Hashem to save at least one of the five metropolises that comprised the territory of Sedom. When his pleas were denied, his response was not anger toward Him, but the words,”I am dust and ashes” (Bereishis 18:32).

Avraham was unique in his humility because there is no doubt that had his request been fulfilled, he would have felt the very same way.

Reprinted with permission – Hamodia 18 Tammuz 5774/ July 16, 2014

Visit Rebbetzin Heller’s site at www.tziporahheller.com

Longing For His Children

By Rabbi Meir Goldberg.

More than 100 years ago in the city of Kiev, Ukraine in Czarist Russia, Mendel Beilis was accused of murdering a 13 year old gentile boy and using the blood for matzos. The viciously anti-Semitic government used the trial as a way of not only prosecuting Beilis, but the entire Jewish people as gentile hating murderers who deserved no sympathy. Not just Beilis but the Torah itself was put on trial for its attitude towards gentiles.

Jews from around the globe, religious and secular alike rallied around Beilis and pleaded with western governments to pressure the Czar’s government to stop this travesty of justice.

The chief Rabbi of Moscow, Rabbi Yaakov Mazeh, a gifted orator and spokesman, was called upon to defend the Torah’s teachings vis-à-vis non-Jews.

“The Talmud views non-Jews as sub-human,” charged the prosecution. “Yevamos 61 states ‘You are called Adam but non-Jews are not called Adam’.”

“You are misunderstanding the Talmud,’ countered Rabbi Mazeh. “The Talmud means to say that the Jews are called Adam, meaning that they are all like one person and not many disparate peoples who just happen to comprise a nation. When one Jew is in pain, we all feel that pain. This trial proves it. Here we have one Jew in Kiev accused of a crime he did not commit and Jews around the world rally to his side. Would non-Jews around the globe care about a non-Jew in Kiev who was falsely accused? They are not Adam – a single entity, but rather a group of individuals.”

Rabbi Mazeh’s words have never been truer than in these past weeks as Jews from all walks of life, Sefradi and Ashkenazi, Dati Leumi, Charedi and secular all cried out in the pain of our three boys, their parents and families. Our nation, desperate for achdus, banded together as all of klal Yisroel turned as one towards our Father in Heaven, beseeching Him to return the boys home safely and after their murder, crying out in their memory. While we may fight and bicker with one another, even bitterly, we are fundamentally one people, one heart, one soul.

So what can we as a zchus for the memory the three boys?

The agony of the parents of the kidnapped boys, even prior to the discovery of their murder, was unimaginable, waiting up nights, longing to hear from them. The terror of having a child snatched from us is too much to bear. To a great extant, Hashem is missing so many of His children, ‘kidnapped’ by lives of secularism, far from living lives of purpose, meaning and closeness to Hakadosh Baruch Hu. According to one study, 71% of non-orthodox American Jews will not marry Jewish. Yet during this time of beautiful hisorerus, we witnessed ostensibly secular Jews, seemingly far from Yiddishkeit, daven and perform mitzvos in their brother’s zchus and they continue to do so in their memory.

​Rabbi Shay Schachter of the White Shul in Far Rockaway, was sent as a shliach on behalf of his shul, to be menachem avel the families of the three boys. He writes the following,

“​In the middle of our flight, the stewardess began to speak with me, and we got into a very pleasant conversation. She then inquired when I was planning to return back to the States, and I said I would only be staying until until after Shabbos, and I would then be returning home. She said “just four days? What kind of trip is that?” And I proceeded to tell her that I was sent by our shul to visit the three respective families, to deliver our beautiful letters, and to let them know that the affection of their beloved brothers and sisters in America, knows no bounds.

She immediately began to cry uncontrollably, and said, this kehillah of yours is something unique and something incredibly special. For you to get on the flight is no big deal; but this speaks volumes about your kehillah, that this is what they feel is important. This is where their hearts are, and this is what is occupying their minds – how incredible!

So the stewardess proceeds to make an announcement in tears, to a plane filled almost to capacity with Birthright groups; “Rabotai! We have on our plane, a shliach Mitzvah! Come meet a Rabbi who was sent by his Kehillah to perform the great mitzvah of nichum aveilim, for those whom they feel are their own brothers and sisters! Our plane is safe because we have a shaliach mitzvah on board with us!”

This led to a whole pandemonium, and after I finally got to sit down again, the young man next to me informs me that he is 26 years old, from Seattle Washington; he works in a national zoo, and is going to Israel for his first time. He then proceeds to tell me that he was so inspired by our kehillah, and that he would like to borrow my Tallis to do a mitzvah that he has not done since his Bar mitzvah celebration (at age 16) in memory of the three precious neshamos.

I gladly gave him my tallis and then proceeded to ask him if he knew how to recite a bracha. He said “sure I do”, and went on to take out a small piece of paper from his pocket, and recited the “Tefillas Haderech”. This was the one and only Hebrew Bracha that he was familiar with, so he decided to recite it as well on the Tallis.

He then asked to borrow my Tefillin as well, which was followed by a long conversation with the other members of the plane, who were all taking pictures of this highly unusual scene.

But that wasn’t it; after a few minutes he turns to me and says “Rabbi, I am so inspired, but in Seattle Washington we don’t have these boxes. But I want to continue to do something special for these three precious souls, even after I return home. So what would you suggest I do?”

I was in complete shock, and overwhelmed with emotion, so the Satmar Chassid in the next row turns to this tattood and pierced young man and says, “Sweet Jew, if you promise me you will try and wear these Tefillin each and every day, I promise I will have a pair sent by FedEx to your home in Seattle Washington by the time you get back from Israel!” They then exchanged phone numbers and information, and the deal was done.​”

This is an incredible time in Klal Yisroel.​

It would behoove us to seize these precious moments of national unity and reach out to our not so distant brethren with bonds of love in order to draw them nearer to their Father.

Rabbi Meir Goldberg is the director of Rutgers Jewish Xperience (www.rutgersjx.com). He resides in Lakewood with his family.
Originally published in The Lakewood Scoop

G-d’s Divine Plan and the Teshuva Movement

By Rabbi Avaraham Edelstein
Reposted from Klal Perspectives Kiruv Issue – Winter 2012

There are many pessimists who suggest that the opportunity for American kiruv is rapidly dwindling. They cite decades of American intermarriage and the decreased familiarity of Jews with Torah and Jewish values and tradition (including the decline of Conservative Judaism, discussed below). But, though perhaps it is counter-intuitive, as I evidence elsewhere in this article the numbers of those interested in Judaism have been growing not decreasing. The average community mekarev is showing around three to five baalei teshuva a year, while the average campus rabbi is achieving five to six. And there has been a much larger number coming to learn on a weekly basis and making progress in their mitzvah observance. With the total numbers of mekarvim exponentially greater than it was twenty years ago, the cumulative efforts are highly significant.

Some have observed that English-speaking baal teshuva yeshivas are struggling with enrollment. However, this does not reflect decreased kiruv success – it simply reflects a different model of achieving success. For example, data reveal that 530 previously non-observant students became frum on North American campuses in the 2010-2011 academic year alone, and that figure rose nominally to 552 in 2011-2012. These are significant increases over previous years and previous decades. Moreover, there are entire new communities of baalei teshuva that have only recently mushroomed – in places like Tucson, Arizona and for sub-groups such as Bucharim in Queens, NY. This encouraging trend requires an understanding of the true roots of the Baal Teshuva Movement.

Contrary to the simplistic view of many, the movement was not simply a function of sociological phenomena, such as the shirayim (leftovers) of the Sixties’ generation looking for meaning (America), or the miracles of the Six Day War (Israel), or the arrival of a special kollel (South Africa), etc., etc.

According to Rav Yitzchak Hutner, zatzal (as told to Rav Moshe Shirkin, shlita, who reported this to me) the kiruv movement rather began as part of G-d’s guiding hand in history as we entered a pre-Messianic age. The elaborate teshuva prophesied for the Messianic era was beginning early, the influence flowing “backwards,” as it were, from the powerful inspiration of that anticipated age.

That the baal teshuva movement must be attributed to G-d’s guiding hand alone is evidenced by the fact that it began in multiple countries more or less simultaneously, without any human coordination – with most initiatives not even knowing of the others’ existence. Just as remarkable, although there were noble efforts at kiruv prior to this time, those early initiatives bore comparatively little fruit (I expect loud protests reminding me of Young Israel, Torah U’Mesorah and maybe even Torah Vodaas). For example, the same Rav Nachman Bulman, zatzal, who had many hundreds of BTs as his students by the time of his death in 2002, hardly made a dent before the time was ripe. In fact, after the advent of the BT movement, even those with relatively mediocre tools were able to realize significant achievements[2].

There has always been a Torah requirement that we do a national teshuva,[3] which is not the same as simply each individual in the nation doing teshuva. National teshuva was destined to be the central phenomenon of the Messianic era – אין ישראל נגאלין אלא בתשובה (the People of Israel will be redeemed only through teshuva).[4] And while the Nesivos Shalom[5] suggests that the teshuva of our generation draws from the past (specifically, the holiness generated by the experience of the Holocaust), this is no contradiction to the consensus of gedolim that it is a pre-Messianic phenomenon[6]. In other words, Messianic kedusha (holiness) begins to “peep from the cracks” – מציץ מן החרכים (Song of Songs 2:9) – in the generation of עקבתא דמשיחא (pre-Messianic era), when a teshuva movement becomes one of the defining phenomena of the age.

In Messianic times, not only do all Jews do teshuva, but we will be led by a descendent of that most illustrious of baalei teshuva, Yehudah. It is so destined, for Mashiach must be a composite of every fragment of kedusha in the world.

Predicting Jewish demographic trends is a risky business at best, especially since it is totally incapable of predicting the future of a meta-historical process like the baal teshuva movement. Social scientists simply lack the tools to anticipate G-d’s Divine plan to envelope history into one grand גילוי יחודו (revelation of His Oneness). The Baal Teshuva Movement cannot be explained as merely another religious awakening, subject to the ebb and flow of trends and social influences. We will not find ourselves running dry, with the next generation of Jews simply too distanced to be brought closer, chas ve’shalom (G-d forbid). On the contrary, kiruv will gather steam right into the Messianic era, when all Jews will do teshuva. We are but seeing individual examples, in whatever numbers, of what will become an across-the-board national phenomenon at a later stage.

There Are No Perfect People

By Rebbetzin Tziporah Heller

One of the greatest blessings that you can give a friend who is getting married is that the couple live together with peace and friendship. Peace isn’t what people think it is. It is too often confused with a mere lack of hostility in one extreme, or complete concord on the other. While there is absolutely no case to be made for overtantagonism, the absence of conflict leaves an empty space, which isn’t necessarily filled with peace. The word for peace, shalom, is related to the word shalem which means “whole”. A peaceful relationship is one in which each person welcomes the unique individuality of the other, and together try to build something real. It’s dynamic, rather than passive. With that in mind, I will tell you the bad news, which is also the good news.

Everyone settles.

There are no perfect people. Faults that are irrelevant from an emotionally safe distance are sometimes exquisitely painful when you recognize that you are merged with both the faults and virtues of the man who you marry. Recognizing this may feel like watching a dream shatter, if you had illusions that shalom means finding your clone, whose faults are the ones that you have somehow managed to forgive in yourself over the course of your life. If your vision of shalom is dynamic, you will realize that faults are one dimension of virtues. Every trait has two sides.

A person who is angry is saying, “things aren’t the way I would like them to be”. This can be almost idol worship, with the idol being the self. It also can be a misplaced yearning for wholeness, and the bitter fruit of misplaced idealism. If it is you who are the angry one, you have to accept your fault as being real, find a new address for the energy it generates and move on. You can and must learn damage control, but that isn’t the end of the story. If the fault is someone else’s, the temptation is to label it, dissect it, and despise it. This isn’t shalom. You have to be committed enough to see the hidden yearning for truth, and use it to build.

Rav Aryeh Levine, the famed tzadik of Yerushalaim, used to say that there are two kinds of people. There are those who hate lies, and those who love truth. A person who hates dishonesty will be sensitive to its presence, and see it lurking in the dark recesses of people’s inner lives and self-deceptions. They will despise the possessor of the trait because they despise the trait. Another type of person will seek the hidden truth in the heart of the person with whom they find themselves. They love the truth that emerges, and for that reason will love the person.

This isn’t only true in marriage, and the message of shalom is one that has to be carried with you wherever you go. It has to do with friendships, relationships with rabbis (what? Imperfect rabbis?), parents, just as much as it has to do with shalom bayit. The exception to this rule is illustrated in parsha Korach. Korach fermented a rebellion against Moshe. He presented himself as sort of the Jefferson of the Biblical world. We are all equal, we are all holy. Why should one person rule over others? Why should Moshe’s brother be the Kohein Gadol? Isn’t this just warmed over nepotism? The problem in his argument is that these offices were given by G-d and not by Moshe. It is Hashem Himself who gave Moshe the qualities that he had to have in order to give the Torah, and Aharon the traits he needed to bring down blessing to the Jewish people.

It is also G-d who, the Talmud tells us, since the time He finished creating the world has busied Himself with matching couples. This doesn’t mean only that He is the Ultimate Shadchan, but it also means that He creates the right situations to match the abilities of the people he destines to encounter those situations. Your role is to build, and to affirm. It isn’t to destroy or to negate. There are times when building is impossible, and then you have to have the vision and courage to move on. But the way to know whether that is the case can only come to the surface when you are really willing to question your own willingness to build, rather than to satisfy your ego by being the wronged party, or the higher deity on the totem pole. Lots of us enjoy machlokes (the opposite of shalom). It’s root is the word “chelek” which means portion. Finding the hidden truth is the only way out.

Originally Posted on www.tziporahheller.com

Filling Our Higher Walls With a Meaningful Relationship with Hashem

By YMG

Building “higher walls” is a hishtadus implemented in many communities in Klal Yisroel. It’s a hishtadlus that many FFB’s and BT’s put a good deal of their precious trust in to keep their kids on the derech.

But, no hishtadlus, however worthy, can “make” anything happen or guarantee a result. G-d alone made, makes and will make all happenings (Rambam Thirteen Principles of Faith #2). G-d is the One & Only Source of every seemingly independent power, and every seemingly effective hishtadlus (#’s 2 & 3 of the Six Constant Mitzvahs).

If you trust in Hashem while making a histadlus, He will requite and fulfill that trust in Him. Whereas if you repose your trust in anything else—-such as building higher walls—- Hashem’s system is to remove His Divine Providence and let “nature run its course”. The very thing you trusted in will be the “cause” of your frustration, disaster, loss etc and your trust in it will be unrequited.(Heard from Rabbi Avigdor Miller ztl)

There is a lot of emphasis placed on building higher walls but insufficient emphasis on filling the confines of those walls with a meaningful, loving and rewarding relationship with Hashem. Instead the confines of those higher walls continue to be filled with externalities based upon social/cultural conventions that are mistakenly confused with genuine Avodas Hashem.

Is it any wonder then that the hishtadlus/strategy of higher walls is failing regardless of what community is being discussed?

From Where Do You Put Your Old Time Rock And Roll? – Comment 45 by YMG