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A Rabbi's Thoughts

A little bit of the inner workings...

Sinai

The Midrash describes how after each of the first two commandments uttered by G-d the Jewish People actually died from the revelation, only to be immediately revived, by G-d Himself. So the people begged Moshe "you speak to us instead of Hashem so that we don’t die again!" .

Not quite the kind of Jewish studies experience we are used to...
 
The obvious question though, is that this was obviously by the direct of G-d Himself. It was His words elevating them, and His will reviving them. In fact, it was they themselves who requested, as Rashi points out before the 10 commandments, that the words be spoken by G-d Himself and not through Moshe - so why are they complaining now? They'll be fine!
 
Perhaps though, the paradox of life and death in the Sinai Experience carries an important message;

Whilst they knew that they would survive through G-d's continuous miraculous revival of them, that ongoing break of nature would run against the whole objective of Sinai - to bring heaven down to earth, down to Mount Sinai, down to the people and down into the very character of their conscious natural being.
 
True, the initial transcendence of their "virtual deaths" was important. That face to face interaction with G-d empowered the soul with a measure of divinity to fulfil its journey from Sinai onwards. Otherwise, that out of body experience would serve no purpose. And they knew they would survive.
 
But survival alone would not suffice. They had to transform. Even if it meant that for the duration of the revelation, the words came through Moshe. At least now they could absorb the message consciously and achieve its goal to be a part of, and transform, the world.
 
Sinai only happened so that we, body and soul together, could harness the divinity of the G-dly soul into the guiding light of the human body and reality.  
 
The Rebbe shared this thought in a very moving talk on the first Yarzeit of his Rebbetzin's passing - this Shabbat Yitro in 1989.
 
In connecting the day to the message of the Parsha, he drew the comparison of the passing of a Tzadik, a righteous person, which she most definitely was, to the initial experience of the deaths of the Jewish People at Mount Sinai. "Her desire is that the the result of her passing express itself in tangible acts and good deeds in our physical world." 
 
In poignant words the Rebbe concluded that "despite the fact that she was "the wife of his youth" (whom the Talmud describes as irreplaceable), the message is that: we, who are still living in this physical world - body in soul - utilize the sanctity of her passing as a motivation to make a physical tangible difference in our lives, in the study of Torah, in Prayer and the observance of Mitzvot and good deeds for those around us.
 
She in turn then uses this fresh injection of spiritual energy to pray on high for all of those in need, for children, health and success in abundance, and the ultimate blessing for the complete redemption.
 
May the proud Matric graduates. and all of us together, live the message of Sinai in paying tribute to this remarkable woman who so regally exemplified the message of Sinai in her lifetime and beyond.
 
Thank G-d 3,300 Years later, the Sinai Experience, in both life and death, continues to produce magnificent results.
 

Faith

The Jewish People are at the sea, as an Egypitan army comes crashing behind them Moshe is commanded to raise his hands and the sea splits "and they believed in G-d and Moshe His servant."

Why is their faith in Moshe mentioned here, at such a pivotal moment? A fundamental tenet of Jewish belief is the knowledge that every individual has an absolute connection to G-d with no intermediary separating that union. So why is faith in "Moshe His servant" so relevant here?

The Talmudic era Midrash, the Mechilta takes note that the one word of faith includes both G-d and Moshe, deriving that "one who believes in Moshe believes in G-d. Perhaps, their faith in Moshe was more then faith in him as a servant of G-d, it was their faith in him as a believer in G-d. 

Of course, we all believe in G-d, alone. And Moshe teaches us how to have faith. Or in the words of the Zohar, Moshe is a Ra'ya Mehemna, which means both a faithful shepherd and a shepherd of faith. However it is not Moshe alone that fills this need.The Zohar continues that in every generation there is an extension of Moshe's soul that feeds a conscious faith to the people of that generation.

But in our generation Moshe took it a step further. Exactly sixty years ago tonight, the Rebbe declared in his opening address that faith alone is unsustainable. It only takes root in your consciousness when you share it with someone else.

This was the defining call of the generation, echoing the Midrashic interpretation of Abraham's service of G-d "al tikrah VayIkra, ela vaYakri" "don't just read that he (Abraham) called to G-d, but he brought others to call G-d as well".

Sixty years ago tonight a generation of faith in G-d was born that would revive from out of the ashes of the holocaust a burning faith in G-d, in ways that noone thought possible. Whilst others thought it was a time to consolidate and turn inwards, the Rebbe reversed the trend on set a course of Jewish outreach, where faith is something to give, not to have.

Just two days ago, a close friend asked if our families experiences in the past few months was a strain on my faith. Having grown up  in a home with two parents who live the Rebbe's call to share our faith with others, I can honestly say, that it was the decades of sharing with  others, that gave us the strength of faith during that difficult time.

There is no aspect of my life, my family, my community, and my purpose that  has not been profoundly influenced by the vision of a generation that was born tonight.

With the Rebbe's passing 17 years ago, many thought it would signal the end of an era. But tonight, as this generation, the Rebbe's generation, my generation, celebrates it's 60th birthday, it calls for a Yoma Tavo LiRabonon, a celebration of  the scholars, as free of worry or doubt the Rebbe's vision carries on, until very soon when we reach the true fulfillment of that vision with the coming of the redemption, may it be speedily in our days.

Wishing you a Shabbat of Sharing Faith,      
 

 

Rabbi Mendel Teldon 

Compass

Free at last, free at last, thank G-d Almighty we are free at last. Who said these words? No, it wasn't Moses but American civil rights leader, Dr. Martin Luther King. But it could have been Moses – or for that matter any one of the millions of Jews who were liberated from Egyptian bondage.

This is the week when we read of the great Exodus. Let my people go that they may serve Me was the Divine call transmitted by Moses to Pharaoh. Now, if the purpose of leaving Egypt and Pharaoh's whip was to be able to serve G-d, so where is the freedom? We are still slaves, only now we are servants of the Almighty!

Indeed, countless individuals continue to question the merits of religion in general. Who wants to submit to the rigors of religion when we can be free spirits? Religion, they argue, stifles the imagination, stunts our creative style, forever shouts instructions and lays down the law. Thou Shalt do this and Thou Shalt better not do that, or else! Do's and don'ts, rules and regulations are the hallmark of every belief system; but why conform to any system at all? Why not just be "me"?

Many Jews argue similarly. Mitzvahs cramp my style. Keeping kosher is a serious inconvenience. Shabbat really gets in the way of my weekend. And Passover has got to be the biggest headache of the year.

Long ago, the sages of the Talmud said it was actually the other way around. There is no one as free as he who is occupied with the study of Torah. But how can this possibly be true? Torah is filled with rules of law, ethics and even expectations and exhortations that we take the high road and behave beyond the call of duty. How could they say that Torah makes us free? Surely it is inhibiting rather than liberating?

If you want to enjoy the freedom of the high seas, you must first become a slave to the compass Let me share an answer I once heard on the radio while driving in my car. It was during a BBC interview with Malcolm Muggeridge, the former editor of Punch, the satirical British magazine. Punch magazine was arguably England's most irreverent publication. It mocked and ridiculed the royal family long before they did it to themselves. In his latter years, Malcolm Muggeridge became religious and the interviewer was questioning how the sultan of satire, the prince of Punch could make such a radical transformation and become religious? How could he stifle such a magnificent free spirit as his?

Muggeridge's answer was a classic, which I still quote regularly. He said he had a friend who was a famous yachtsman, an accomplished navigator of the high seas. A lesson he once gave him in sailing would provide the answer to the reporter's question. The yachtsman taught him that if you want to enjoy the freedom of the high seas, you must first become a slave to the compass.

A young novice might challenge the experienced professional's advice. But why should I follow that little gadget? Why can't I go where I please? It's my yacht! But every intelligent person understands that without the navigational fix provided by the compass we will flounder and sail in circles. Only by following the lead of the compass will the wind catch our sails so we can experience the ecstasy and exhilaration of the high seas.

The Torah is the compass of life. It provides our navigational fix so we know where to go and how to get there. Without the Torah's guidance and direction we would be lost in the often stormy seas of confusion. Without a spiritual guidance system we flounder about, wandering aimlessly through life. Just look at our kids when they're on vacation from school and are "free" from the disciplines of the educational system. Unless they have a program of some kind to keep them busy – like a summer camp – they become very frustrated in their "freedom."

Within the Torah lifestyle there is still ample room for spontaneity and freedom of expression. Not all rabbis are clones. To the untrained eye every yeshiva bochur looks identical – a black hat, glasses and a beard. The truth is that every one is distinctively different; an individual with his very own tastes attitudes, personality and preferences. They may look the same but they are each unique.

We can be committed to the compass and still be free spirits. Indeed, there are none as free as they who are occupied with Torah.

 

Thanks to Rabbi Yossi Goldman for the thought. 

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