7/19/2008

FORTY-TWO JOURNEYS part 5


Rabbi Simon Jacobson


The Baal Shem Tov teaches that the forty-two journeys in the wilderness – from Egypt to the Promised Land – reflect the forty-two journeys or phases that each person experiences throughout life. This is the fifth installment of a new series from Rabbi Jacobson, that outlines the psycho-spiritual 42 journeys that each of us go through in our own lives.

The story till now:

Journeys 1-5 begin with birth leading through childhood into the maturity process.
Journeys 6-9 cover various adversaries we face early in life.
Journeys 10-12: Power; weakness; revelation.
Journeys 13-15: Craving; rebellion; resignation.
Journeys 16-17: Building family and home.
Journeys 18-19: Failure; mob mentality.
Journeys 20-22: Beauty; fear; unity, community.
Journey 23-27: Low-points; middle-age; fruits of labor; emissary; counsel.

Please click here to read the first four installments covering journeys 1-27.

Now we continue with journeys 28-33, which cover the later stages of life as we enter our silver years.

Journey 28: They left Moseroth and camped in Benay Yaakan
Benay Yaakan literally means the sons of Yaakan, grandson of Seir (Genesis 36:27). It is also translated as “wells of distress” (Targum Yonasan), a place that is “narrow, confined and tight” (commentary Yonasan). This journey – which is also connected to the passing of Aaron (see Deuteronomy 10:6 and Rashi) – refers to the distress and limits that come with older age: Health issues, infirmity and the general physical decline associated with aging; both the agony for the aged one as well as for his/her family and friends as they see him/her waning. Yet, this stage too can be transformed into a very fruitful one, by learning to appreciate and connect with a deeper aspect of the aged one – the wisdom and experience that comes with the years, as the next journeys celebrate.

Journey 29: They left Benay Yaakan and camped in Chor HaGidgad
Chor HaGidgad – hole or clefts of Gidgad (Targum Yonasan) – refers to the head (gidgad) with its various cavities (see Arizal – Sefer Ha’Likkutim Massei). In psychological terms this journey denotes sagacity and wisdom that comes with ripe age, “many years bring wisdom” (Job 32:7).

Journey 30: They left Chor HaGidgad and camped in Yatvathah
Yatvathah means a “good, calm place” (Targum Yonasan), a “good, rich place” (Rokeach), an area of flowing brooks (Deuteronomy 10:7). This refers to the deep calm that comes with seasoned wisdom (see Arizal ibid). As the Talmud writes: “the minds of elderly scholars become more settled with age” (Kinim 3:6).

Journey 31: They left Yatvathah and camped in Avronah
Avronah is a “river crossing,” a “ford” (Targum Yonasan). It means to “pass through,” referring to the journey of life called transition – the transition into old age. Avronah also alludes to the transient material universe, how short-lived and ephemeral life truly is – an awareness that comes with age. Yet, through our acts of virtue and kindness, through the people we inspire and touch, we have the power to transform the fleeting life into a permanent and eternal force that perpetuates forever. This is the meaning of “they left Yatvathah and camped in Avronah:” upon birth we leave the “good and calm” of the spiritual worlds and enter the turbulent, insecure life of this physical world. Yet, through spiritualizing our lives we carry the “good and clam” of Yatvathah and “camp” peacefully even in Avronah (see Pri Megadim, responsa 1:3).

Journey 32: They left Avronah and camped in Etzyon Gever
Etzyon Gever means the “rooster’s crow” (Targum Yonasan), or the “wisdom of the rooster.” Masters proficient in the rooster’s wisdom lived in this place. “This wisdom is a deep secret, because it has the power to perceive the difference between day and night” (Tzioni. Rokeach). As the Talmud says, when you hear the rooster’s call say the blessing “Blessed is He who gave the rooster perception to distinguish between day and night” (Berachos 60b).

Life is made up of light and dark, day and night – bright times of clarity, hope and joy, and dismal times of confusion, defeat and sorrow. The purpose of darkness – and the ultimate achievement of life – is our power to transform night into light. But one of the great challenges that makes this effort difficult is the blurring of the boundaries between the two: darkness has the insidious ability to seep into our brighter moments and cast its dark shadows even on our most illuminating life experiences. It would be one thing if we were able to compartmentalize a negative experience, but not when it spills over and pollutes our good times, undermining our confidence and self-esteem to gather strength and move on. On the other hand, we also need to know how to give pain its due and allow it to go its course and dissipate, before we attack and transform it.

Etzyon Gever in our lives is the point we reach in our journey when we learn the art of perception, the secret to discern day from night; when we becomes masters to know the precise moment when to send out a wake-up call; when to begin the process of drawing light into darkness and transforming night into day. This perception requires profound insight, a sensitive heart and an uncanny sense of timing (Ohr HaTorah Massei pp. 1360. 1394. 1411).

Journey 33: They left Etzyon Gever and camped in Kadesh, in the Tzin Desert
Tzin and Kadesh are so called because here the people “were commanded” (tzin form the words tzav, command) and here they “were sanctified” (Talmud, Shabbos 89a). Kadesh is an eventful location: In this place Miriam passed away (Numbers 20:1), and the incident of the “Waters of Strife” happened (ibid 20:2-13): After the water from Miriam’s well ceased flowing (due to her death) and the Jews complained that they had no water, Moses fatefully struck the rock instead of speaking to it, which brought upon the sad decree that Moses and Aaron would not enter the Promised Land. This is another reason that this location was called Kadesh, because G-d was sanctified in this place (Bamidbar Rabbah 19:14; Tanchuma Numbers 11).

What this means in our life journey is a challenge to our commitment. There will be consequential times – due to excessive circumstances (a death, a major change, a transition) when everything we believe in will be on the line. We then have the choice: Will we sanctify G-d’s name or not?

To be continued
~~~~~

7/16/2008

PEOPLE POWER

PARSHA

PINHAS 08



“Let Hashem… appoint a man over the community… that they may not be as sheep which have no shepherd” (Num.27.16f)



They may have no shepherd but the leaders do have an overseer, namely the very people they purport to lead. (Meorah Shel Torah)



With few exceptions, the world today is plagued by leaders who lack moral scruples and engage in corrupt practices. Where are our idealists, the honest champions of our cause who cry out against injustice and strive to improve the lot of humanity?



In a democracy, elected Heads of State represent the will of the people. It follows that their success in effecting change is possible only if the people really want change. Leaders reflect the attitudes of those that they lead; their corruption mirrors the corruption of the people who gave them their mandate.



There is an urgent need for administrators and governors to clean up their acts. They will do so when the people they represent begin to clean up their own back yards.

7/14/2008

FORTY-TWO JOURNEYS part 4

Rabbi Simon Jacobson

Talk about journeys. I just returned from a long voyage – actually a series of journeys – that spanned over 20,000 miles (32,000km). Last Wednesday I flew from New York to Sydney Australia. But it’s not as simple as that. First, my flight was cancelled, and instead I had to rush to the airport to barely make a flight from New York to Los Angeles (6 hours), with a connecting leg to Auckland, New Zealand (14 hours), and finally from there (3½ hours) arriving Friday afternoon in Sydney, with a few more hours thrown in waiting between flights.

Between the trips to the airports, running from one gate to the next, connecting one flight to another, between car transports to and from the airports, with over 20 speaking engagements, meetings and interviews, running to and from places and sleeping locations, from breakfasts, lunches and dinners, walking on Shabbos for over two hours – all in a whizzing 5 days, across the international date line twice, with a 14 hour time difference – it felt like traveling 42 journeys…

Yet, my journeys did not take 40 years and they were hardly in a “great, terrifying desert, where there were snakes, vipers, scorpions and thirst, with no water.” True, airplane food ain’t exactly lip smacking gourmet and the cramped space is hardly amusing, but it’s definitely far better than a great and terrifying wilderness.

[In the wilderness the Jews complained that they were “getting disgusted with this unwholesome food (the Manna from heaven).” It would however be inappropriate to compare it to the complaints about the food served in the airline heavens – a far cry from the “heavenly bread” that nourished the Jews in the wilderness, an unprecedented blessing originating in the highest cosmic levels].

In fact, the “difficulties” of my journey to Sydney are laughable compared to the truly grueling journeys that many have gone through in the last few decades – severe and punishing journeys, unprecedented in history, through the hells of Nazi Europe and Communist Russia. The last generations have endured upheavals and journeys that literally amputated entire communities and transplanted them, shattered and forever changed, in new countries across the globe. Indeed, Australia has the largest per capita population of Holocaust survivors, many of which escaped to the farthest place from Europe that they could reach…

How can I even include in the same breath my journeys to Sydney, which by contrast, had none of these challenges?

Quite the contrary, my trip to Sydney was deeply gratifying – completely overriding the arduous journeys. From Dover Heights to Double Bay; from a gourmet dinner with Rabbi Levi and Chani Wolf of the magnificent central Synagogue to an intense conversation with the Head Chabad Rabbi Pinchas Feldman (who was sent by the Lubavitcher Rebbe to Sydney in 1968); from the huge crowd at the formal Gimmel Tammuz event for the greater Sydney community to the intimate farbrengens throughout; from meeting some key political and financial leaders to a stimulating evening at the home my good friend Kevin Bermeister; from a stirring melave malkah with the local Chabad Shluchim to an emotional evening with the women of the community – I was deeply moved by the dedication, the refinement and the beauty of these exceptional people.

When you think about it, it is quite amazing that in this distant land – down under and upside down – Jewish life thrives. Young Chabad men and women are totally devoted to inspire and illuminate the lives of all those around them. Their pure faith and innocent dedication is life affirming. They have cultivated important connections with government and business leaders, and have the ability to generate true social change and higher the spiritual consciousness of Sydney – which can have a ripple effect across the world.

Every community, and Sydney is no exception, has its challenges. Yet, I felt that the goodness and commitment of the young couples, investing all their energy in making their world a better place, will prevail and overcome all difficulties; their dedication to spreading light will dispel darkness. Their pursuit of greatness has the power to transcend pettiness.

I may have embarked on 42 journeys half around the earth and back, but I came away energized, rejuvenated – with a deep sense of renewed hope, motivated to intensify my own work to help provide tools and resources to these community leaders and laypeople. 42 journeys – with a sense that we are on our way to the Promised Land.

The 12th Century Talmud scholar, the Raavad, writes that in the final Redemption, G- the people will not immediately enter the Promised Land, but G-d will “bring them through the wilderness of the nations” (Ezekiel 20:35), the same way that after the Egyptian redemption the people were led through 42 journeys in the wilderness (Adioth 2:9. See also Bechayei Massei).

As I return from my short trip to Australia I can report that we indeed are on a path to the Promised Land. And just as the Jewish people traveled 42 journeys through the wilderness on their way from Egypt to Israel, we too go through these 42 journeys in our own lives, as the Baal Shem Tov explains.

The Tzemach Tzedek does say that we go through the 42 journeys every day. So I guess that with some analysis I can figure out how I traveled these journeys through my Sydney trip. But meanwhile, let us return to the series that outlines these psycho-spiritual 42 journeys – which was skipped last week due to my laborious trek.

Here is the fourth installment of this series. Please click here to read the first three installments covering journeys 1-20.


Journey 21: They left Mount Shefer and camped in Charadah
Charadah – trembling – was so called due to the terror caused by the plague (Numbers 17:12. Targum Yonasan). Just as we experience beauty in our lives (Mount Shefer, Tiferet), we also, at times, sadly experience terror. This is the journey of fear in our lives; when “severities” (gevurah and din) are dominant (see Bechayei). Living in a perilous world, whose “roads are all prone to danger,” we all will endure experiences that cause us to shudder. The critical thing to always remember, even in the most frightening and anxious moments, is that fear is also part of the journey toward the Promised Land. When harnessed we can find solace (“camp”) in our shudders, as they sharpen our alert, focus our vigilance and teach us how to avoid or conquer the agents of fear. By not allowing our fears to consume us, we can learn to see them through, transform them to awe of the Divine and come out more powerful (see Kedushas Levi). That which does not destroy us makes us stronger.

Journey 22: They left Charadah and camped in Mak’heloth
Mak’heloth is a place of assembly (Targum Yonasan), possibly the place where the miracle of Aaron’s rod occurred in response to Korach’s challenge. This reflects the community building journey in our lives, when we build – or join – a community; when we assemble a group toward a particular cause or effort. Mak’heloth is a state of unity – when we feel connected with other and with ourselves, and together we serve a higher purpose (as in the psalm (68:27) b’Mak’heloth – in full assemblies – they praised G-d). The ultimate transformation of fear (Charadah) is when it leads us to gather, appreciate and sing praise for our Divine blessings (see Baal Haturim).

Journey 23: They left Mak’heloth and camped in Tachath
Yet, the cycles of life are such that we move from high to low. Tachath means “below,” referring to a lowly state, the lowlands of Mak’heloth (Targum Yonasan). Tachath are the low-points and downers in life. Some of these low-points follow success. This downward journey – which comes just after the mid-way point of the 42 journeys – may also refer to the middle-age blues. Another application of Tachath is the depths we fall to when we “leave Mak’heloth,” i.e. forsake and abandon unity (Chasam Sofer). Yet, we have the power to transform Tachath into a place of peace, when we each dwell “beneath (tachath) our vine and fig tree” (see Toldos Yaakov Yosef).

Journey 24: They left Tachath and camped in Terach
Terach is the name of Abraham’s father, which comes from the word “wild goat” or “old fool.” Terach is also related to the word boiling (rotach), as in irate; with Terach’s birth G-d became irate over the idol worshippers (Midrash Aggada Genesis). Another meaning of the word Terach is wait or delay (Rokeach). Terach refers to the stage in life when we move into middle-age and become fathers of our children. Will we yield children like Abraham? Will we be like “wild goats” and “old fools” worshipping one idol or another, or will we be wise and give off a spiritual aroma (Terach from the word re’ach, the scent of Torah and Mitzvot – Yalkut Midrashei Teiman)?

Journey 25: They left Terach and camped in Mithkah
From Terach we camp in Mithkah, a place of sweetness, with good fresh water (Targum Yonasan), the stage in life when we experience the sweet nachas from seeing the fruits of our labor – as in grand-parenting or other life achievements. This sweetness is even more profound because it follows and transforms the bitterness of life (see journey 5).

Journey 26: They left Mithkah and camped in Chashmonah
Chashmonah means ambassador, referring to the journey in life when we serve as an envoy or emissary representing a particular cause. It can also include a time when we assume a mature position of leadership and influence – usually later in our lives.

Journey 27: They left Chashmonah and camped in Moseroth
Moseroth (from the word mussar) means chastisement. Some say it was Aaron’s burial place (Malbim Numbers 20:29). This refers to the journey and stage in life when we have the wise experience to counsel others and offer constructive criticism and rebuke (“at age fifty for counsel” – Avot 5:24).

To be continued.
~~~~~

Faith as Paradox


No, Yes, No, Yes


By Yosef Y. Jacobson

This week's Torah portion, Balak, tells the fascinating story of Balaam, a prophet, who was summoned by the Moabite king to curse Israel. In the end, in lieu of curses, the prophet gushes forth the most splendid poetry ever written about the uniqueness and destiny of the Jewish people. His poetry has become classic, a wellspring of inspiration for thousands of years, recited daily in Jewish liturgy and prayers.
Yet there is something profoundly confusing about the narrative.
The Bible relates how the emissaries arrive from Moab and Midian. They state their mission: They want Balaam to curse the Israelites. Balaam tells them to stay the night, while he consults with G-d.
G-d's answer is unequivocal: “G-d said to Balaam, ‘Do not go with them. You must not put a curse on those people, because they are blessed.’”
Balaam obeys. He refuses to go. Balak, the Moabite king, redoubles his efforts. Perhaps more distinguished messengers and the promise of significant reward will persuade Balaam to change his mind. He sends a second set of emissaries. Balaam's reply is moving: "Even if Balak gave me his palace filled with silver and gold, I could not do anything great or small to go beyond the command of the Lord my G-d." However, he adds a fateful rider: "Now stay here tonight as the others did, and I will find out what else G-d will tell me."
The implication is clear. Balaam is suggesting that G-d may change His mind. But this is impossible. That is not what G-d does. Yet to our surprise, that is exactly what G-d seems to do:
“That night G-d came to Balaam and said, "Since these men have come to summon you, go with them, but do only what I tell you."
Balaam followed G-d’s latest instruction. He got up in the morning, saddled his donkey and went with the princes of Moab. “But G-d was very angry when he went, and the angel of G-d stood in the road to oppose him.”
The narrative now shifts to the famous scene of Balaam's donkey. The donkey senses the presence of an angel obstructing its voyage and refuses to continue. Balaam the prophet does not. He beats his donkey. “Then G-d opened the donkey's mouth, and it said to Balaam, "What have I done to you to make you beat me these three times?"


Balaam answered the donkey, "You have made a fool of me! If I had a sword in my hand, I would kill you right now."


The donkey said to Balaam, "Am I not your own donkey, which you have always ridden, to this day? Have I been in the habit of doing this to you?" "No," he said.


“Then G-d opened Balaam's eyes, and he saw the angel of G-d standing in the road with his sword drawn. So he bowed low and fell facedown.”

Balaam asks the angel if he should return home. The response now is, no! You must go. “Just speak the words I will speak to you.”
Balaam continues on his journey with the princes of Balak.
What is going on here? First G-d says no, than it becomes yes, then it is no again, and finally it s a yes! Why did G-d change His mind four times?! And what was Balaam suppose to do? Not go, when G-d told him explicitly to go?
The entire narrative seems like an unfair set up for Balaam. G-d tells him to go, and then gets angry at him for following instructions!
The commentators offer various ways of resolving the apparent contradictions between G-d's first, second, third and fourth reply. One subtle explanation, articulated in the works of Chassidic spirituality, I wish to share with you today.
***
G-d wanted Balaam to go. He wanted the curses of Balaam to be transformed into blessings. It's always nice to receive a compliment from a friend or a loved one. But praise that we truly savor is praise that comes from an adversary. When a rival at work, a business competitor or an outright enemy says something like, "I must say, you guys have something there!" -- that's the kind of vindication we relish most of all.

This is true in our inner psychological life as well. The greatest and deepest blessings are those born from channeling and transforming our tension and challenges. When we have the courage to stare our psychological and emotional pain in the eyes, and confront it, we can then turn it into a catalyst for profound growth. The deepest growth in life is born from such a process.

But how do you create this transformation in your life? For Balaam to do this – and for all of us to do this -- he needed to become a vessel, one that would reflect the vantage point of G-d. In our lives too, in order to transform our emotional challenges into blessings, we need to open ourselves up and become vessels for the Divine perspective on life.

But we are often stuck in our own shells. Our egos – or insecurities -- are too powerful. We -- just like Balaam -- think we know the truth. We believe we know what G-d wants.

Only when Balaam realized that he was absolutely ignorant, and that he did not grasp the divine perspective, was he humbled in to becoming a vessel. The confusion and shame he experienced in the process allowed him to hear the voice of G-d telling him to go and bless. He needed to hear “no” in order to be able to hear “yes.” Balaam needed to realize that he could not hold on to his ego before he could be open to G-d’s word.

Faith, the Torah is teaching us, should not to be confused with simplicity and blind obedience. The path of faith is often fraught with profound questions, dilemmas, and confusions. When we are not ready, we hear G-d saying no. When we are ready, we hear G-d saying yes. And sometimes, it is in the confusion created from paradox, that we become ready to hear what we need to hear.
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