In preparing for a move, I was going through an old stack of papers and found inside a pamphlet that I was apparently given during one of my trips to Israel, entitled “How to get deeper into Torah without going off the deep end.” I don’t remember reading this pamphlet previously (because I probably received it quite a number of years ago), but decided to skim through it again now, just to see what kind of advice it offered to the newly religious.

The advice enclosed was sound, things like “Don’t abandon your old identity,” “Go slow” (5 times!), and “Ask questions.” But the one that really struck me was “Honor all your failures.”

“Honor all your failures.” I thought that was quite interesting and not something that I’ve heard so often. It makes sense; I’ve heard the expression more than once that you learn from your mistakes. And honestly, I know that whenever I mess something up, while I do have a tendency to take it hard (obviously, I still have this lesson to learn), I usually try very hard not to repeat such a mistake and as such, grow from it.

The pamphlet goes on to say that getting things right “prevents deep understanding” while “your failures bring depth and grace to your knowledge.” Again, I definitely see the wisdom in such an approach, the more you make mistakes and realize them, the more you recognize and refine the correct way of doing things.

I think this is a really important lesson for many baalei teshuvah, that you don’t have to be perfect, ever. That there is as much growth, if not more, to be made through mistakes and failures, than there is from doing things right. A writer learns that revisions make his writing stronger and clearer. An artist erases many times before producing a masterpiece. And a person should realize that through his mistakes, he internalizes what he is striving for.

Honor your failures, for they are that which you learn from.

By Rabbi Yitzchok Fingerer

The Midrash relates that a king who was a contemporary of Moses heard reports of how the Hebrew leader had faced off with Pharaoh, had won the freedom of his entire people, had worked miracles, and had revealed a lofty legal code. The king was intrigued, and decided to utilize physiognomy (a system that enables one to decipher character traits from facial features) to ascertain whether Moses’ reputation was fact or lore.

The king sent artists to the Sinai Desert to paint Moses’ portrait. After the artists returned from their long journey with the portrait in hand, the experts in physiognomy went to work analyzing Moses’ character. Their results were shocking. According to their proficient analysis, the character in the portrait was a robber, a murderer, and a deceitful person.

The king was enraged. Obviously, he inferred, the artists had painted the face of some vagabond they had encountered rather than making the long journey into the desert to find the great Moses. The artists, however, swore that they had rendered Moses and nobody else; they suggested that the fault lay with the experts in physiognomy. The king finally decided that there was only one way to settle his quandary: He would personally travel to the Sinai Desert and meet Moses.
Read more Maximizing Your Spiritual Potential ›

The other night, my chavrusa told me about a question that Rav Yisrael Salanter once asked. It goes something like this (I’m clearly paraphrasing and modernizing): How many people do you know that became Baalei Teshuvah at the age of 80? The answer is likely: few to none. The next question is: How many people do you know who became Baalei Teshuvah in their 20s? The answer: Plenty. Rav Yisrael says that this seems to go against logic and nature.

A 20 something year-old has many strong taivas (desires). It is a time in life when one is often looking to move away from restrictions and experience the “freedom” that young adulthood brings. Often, the issues of reward and punishment and moral or religious restrictions are the last thing from one’s mind. Yet, many, many of those 20 something year-olds overcome those taivas and do teshuvah.

One would think that even more 80 year-olds would do the same. After all, the taivas of an 80 year-old have certainly waned and at least partially dissipated. Additionally, an 80 year-old will be more likely to think about how things will be in the “hereafter” and about “making peace” with his Maker. Yet, we simply don’t see too many 80 year-olds becoming BTs. Why is that?
Read more The Tenacity of Habit ›

Over Shavous, I had the privilege to hear Rabbi Yerachmiel Milstein speak a few times. He was excellent.

One of the things that Rabbi Milstein said that really struck a chord with me was: “Don’t be a puppet”. Don’t let others (here he included peer pressure and the media) make your choices for you. The other side of the “Don’t be a puppet” warning, Rabbi Milstein explained, is not to become a puppet to the you that you were yesterday.

Life is full of decisions, big and small. Often, we make the right decisions for ourselves, for where we are now. That’s good and important. However, just because a decision was good for me yesterday doesn’t mean it’s good for me today. As growing individuals and growing Jews, it’s incumbent upon us to continually take stock of ourselves and our life decisions of yesterday.

The way I analogize it is by thinking about when I learned to cross the street on my own. I don’t know precisely how old I was but let’s say 10. When I was 9, my parents felt that I wasn’t old enough, not responsible enough to cross the street on my own. That was a good decision for the 9 year old me. When I turned 10, they saw that I had changed, was more responsible and would take the privilege and the safety issues seriously. That was the right decision for the 10 year old me.

Circumstances change, people change (hopefully) and that necessitates a reevaluation of the decisions we made for the person we were yesterday.

Beyond BT reader and commentor Jeff Neckonoff was inteviewed by Gavriel Sanders about his experiences, involvement and escape from the messianic jewish movement. You can listen to the interview here at www.GavrielSanders.com

Jeff writes “He’s a great interviewer. His questions flowed and I didn’t need to struggle with thinking about my answers. I think you’ll enjoy the show.”

Update: You can also download the interview here.

By Shoshana Siegelman

Before I discovered the world of Torah, personal growth was my religion. The self-help and peer counseling movements provided me with daily practices, support communities, a body of literature to study, and ways of thinking that I found at least partially satisfying.

When, through HaShem’s incredible kindness, I became exposed to Torah thought and living, my thoughtful guides and mentors helped me bridge the gap by ”translating” Torah into the language I understood: personal growth. (For example, I maintained that “Moshiach” was a gentile concept, and one that I couldn’t get comfortable with. My mentor asked, Don’t you dream of a time when people will be whole, and good, and not give in to their distresses? I replied, Yes, that’s my dream, my life-work! To which he replied, That’s Moshiach. And suddenly a tenet of faith became mine.) I spent a year reading, listening to tapes, taking classes, experiencing Shabbos and Yom Tov, and re-creating my life from scratch. I had to re-think everything I had once believed. So much non-Jewish thought had been part of my worldview. I needed to sort through what was true and useful and appropriate, and what was not. Having heard that one of the reasons some Jews are raised far from Torah is so that they can go out in the world and gather in what is useful to bring back, I decided I wanted to take what I had that was useful, to clean it up hashkofically, and to make it available in the frum community.
Read more Peer Counseling – Helping Others Grow ›

David and I were entering my Shul to learn last Sunday and, hurray for us, we actually avoided Bitul Zman with Beyond BT stuff. In the front window there was a sign from a kid’s event that morning titled “Beach Blanket Bingo”. David gave me a quizzical look and I replied, “You know us crazy Charedim”.

That’s a rap we sometimes get at Beyond BT – we’re too Charedi. Does that mean that we take our Judaism seriously? Does that mean that we’re not happy that our concentration in davening is not always so great? Does that mean that we feel that we should be learning more? Does that mean that we’re constanly examining our performance of mitzvos? Does that mean that we’re trying to become more chesed-oriented? Does that mean that we’re working hard on judging people favorably? If that’s what is meant by Charedi, please count us in.

But if you’ll look into the matter more deeply you might find: if you’re reading this site, then you also take your Judaism seriously; that you’re also interested in becoming a better Jew; that you also want to develop a better relationship with the Master of the Universe; that you also want to make this world a better place. So maybe you’re Charedi too.
Read more Beach Blanket Bingo and Us Crazy Charedim ›

The sun-bathing, snorkeling and scuba diving of Teshuvah

The lifelong process and stages of Teshuvah can be compared to sun-bathing, snorkeling and scuba diving:

Sunbathing is a relaxing way to spoil oneself under the warm embrace of the sun. Tension melts away, you can get a good tan and show off your good looks….

However, as anyone who’s “laid out” before knows – sun-bathing isn’t all that it’s cracked-up to be:

It gets hot after a while and if you aren’t careful – instead of a “golden tone” – you’ll be “peeling” away after a nice, red and stinging sunburn! So, what’s the solution? Cool off by the water of course!
Read more You Did Decide to Become a Baal Teshuvah, Didn’t You? ›

A friend who had read Rabbi Brody’s latest post, thought it was Covey-esque. In the 7 Habits of Highly Effective People, Covey describes a situation where a person was complaining that he was growing apart from his wife and Covey kept on insisting, well then “Just Love Her”. Covey’s point was that love is a verb and it’s totally within our power to increase our love for another person.

Rabbi Noach Weinberg gives the following definition of Love: “The pleasure of identifying people with their virtues.” This identification leads to connection and since everyone has virtues, it is possible to increase our love and connect with every person.

As I kept on rereading Rabbi Brody’s post, I saw more and more the wisdom of the advice he was giving. I was focusing on the good advice, that improvement of Dennis situation was greatly dependent on him improving his attitude and actions, and less focused on whether I shared his exact views on the value of outside counseling.
Read more All You Need is Love, But What Exactly is It ›

There are no coincidences. In Rabbi Welcher’s Shabbos drasha he brought down the The Midrash (Bereishis Rabba 24:7) which relates:

Rabbi Akiva said, “Love your neighbor as yourself – this is a great rule in Torah.” Ben Azzai said, “This is the book of the generations of man … in the image of God was man fashioned” is a greater rule, for one should not say, ‘Since I was shamed, so, too, should my friend be shamed with me. Since I was cursed, so, too, let my friend be cursed with me.’ “

Rabbi Welcher pointed out that although “Love your neighbor as yourself” is a great principal, there is an aspect of self focus implied in the words “as yourself”. Ben Azzai goes further and says that our love of our neighbor is based on the fact that he was fashioned in the image of G-d regardless of our personal view.

Later on Shabbos day I was learning Pirkei Avos with my son, which we are going through for his Bar Mitvah, and we came to Mishna 1.7:

Nittai of Arbel said, distance yourself from a bad neighbor, do not befriend a wicked person, and do not despair of punishment.

Read more The Love That’s Due to Every Jew ›

The other night, I went to hear Rabbi Natan Gamzede, the Jewish Prince from Swaziland, speak. For those of you who aren’t familiar with his story, Rabbi Gamzede was born a prince in the African nation of Swaziland where his Grandfather was the King. Rabbi Gamzede eventually converted to Judaism and is now a teacher and lecturer.

Although I had previously met Rabbi Gamzede many years ago in yeshivah and I was fairly familar with his story, I was very inspired by his talk. Perhaps the thing that inspired me most was the level of sacrifice he had undertaken on his journey. Rabbi Gamzede grew up with, quite literally, anything money could buy. In fact, as a child his mother would attempt to shake him from his melancholy state by telling him “why are you so sad? You have everything money can buy!” After his conversion, Rabbi Gamzede’s parents cut off all monetary support and the Prince was now, quite literally, a Pauper. He would take odd jobs shlepping bricks for the building of a new shul just in order to make enough money for bus fare to and from Yerushalayim so that he could date. After marrying, he and his wife relied upon the equivilant of tomche shabbos packages (charitable weekly food donations). Yet, despite this dire level of poverty (not to mention the prejudice they endured) they were happy because they had Hashem and his Torah in their lives. Eizu hu ashir? Hasomeach b’chelko. Who is rich? He who is happy with his portion.
Read more The Jewish Prince ›

Gil Student recently gave a presentation at the Rabbinical Counsel of America (RCA) convention about What a Rabbi Needs to Know about Blogs. Gil has also posted the Power Point from his presentation.

In his section on What Blogs a Rabbi Must Follow, Gil was kind enough to include Beyond BT in the Inspirational Section along with two of our contributors Rabbi Brody at Lazer Beams and A Simple Jew.

I think this supports a thought I had after seeing Aish’s Inspired movie, which is that every BT has a story worthy of being in that movie. This is mainly due to the fact that going from a me-focused existence to a Hashem-focused existence is the biggest change a person can make in their life and that story can’t be anything less than awe-inspiring.
Read more Inspiring the Inspired ›

Since blogs appear to be the 21st-century diary, I would like to share with you how my husband and I have grown since I first posted on this website in January.

I started saying Tehillim when my mom went in to the hospital for a routine procedure and ended up staying there for two weeks fighting a nasty hospital-acquired infection. Given her fears and my anxiety of not being with her, I turned to Tehillim as a direct prayer to Hashem. I never said Tehillim before, and I didn’t even understand what I was saying, but reciting the Tehillim – saying something – somehow eased my fears and calmed me. Once my mom was discharged (and I flew to visit with her) I continued reciting Tehillim and I have found the daily practice to be my time with Hashem, a time when I can focus on what I want to accomplish and communicate that.
Read more Growing Step By Step ›

Tonight begins Tu B’Shevat and Rabbi Label Lam gave a wonderful Drasha earlier this month where he looked at the Mishna in Pirkei Avos which states “Rabbi Yaakov said, one who is walking along the road and is studying [Torah], and then interrupts his studies and says, ‘How beautiful is this tree! How beautiful is this plowed field!’, the Scripture considers it as if he bears the guilt for his own soul.”

In questioning what is the great crime here and why the cases of a tree and a plowed field is chosen, Rabbi Lam uncovers some powerful personal growth lessons that we can glean from the holiday of trees.

Click on this link to listen to Rabbi Lam on Personal Growth Lessons from Tu B’Shevat. (To download the file to your computer, click with the right mouse button on the link and select Save Target As)

How would you describe colors to a blind person, or a piece of music to a deaf person? Close your eyes for a moment and ponder how you would convey the images and sounds. At the very least it would be a daunting, perhaps even an impossible task.

Similarly, how difficult is it for a BT to describe the sublime pleasure of discovering Torah’s emes to their non observant loved ones? How does a BT convey their deep satisfaction at having learned how to keep a kosher kitchen, or to put on tefillin? Surely for the BT there are many mitzvoth they needed to put a great deal of effort into in order to master. And yet, how can we share these accomplishments with those closest to us, with those who knew us all of our lives?
Read more The Unsung Victories of the Baal Teshuva ›

While I was in the process of becoming frum I found that many of my friends and family suddenly became big Talmidei Chachomim (Torah Scholars). They started noticing and commenting on discrepancies in my religious behavior. They never said it explicitly, but the implication was that I was being hypocritical. I fielded such questions as, “Why don’t you wear your yarmulka at school like you do at home?”, “How can you eat in the restaurant if they serve x, y, and z also?”, “How come you walk to shul and then come home and watch TV?”, etc.

As we know, for most of us becoming observant is a process. It’s not like upgrading a computer to a new operating system where suddenly you have all of this new information and features. (Actually, that can be a tough process too, but you get the idea.) There is a lot of information to assimilate and major behavioral changes to implement. In retrospect it can be amusing to look back on some of the inconsistencies we exhibited as our growth unfolded.
Read more Inconsistencies in the Process of Growth ›