Rabbi Shaya's Thoughts

Breaking Through

Friday, January 27, 2017 - 10:17 AM

Do you ever feel like you are hitting a brick wall? Sometimes you feel like that at work, other times, at home. The worst feeling is when it is within ourselves. But often when we feel this way, it is about things that are actually out of our control. The question is, how do we break through?

Some of these walls are only imaginary and can be blown down, while for others, we might need an allegorical sledgehammer. And then there are those stubborn walls that just won’t budge. Nothing we do can destroy them; they are nagging obstacles in our lives that just won’t go away. Yet, in the back of our minds, we know that there must be something we can do.

Let’s search in this week’s Torah portion, Va’eira, to glean some insight.

This week, the Torah talks about the mission of Moses and his brother, Aaron, as they approach Pharaoh to convince him to set the Jews free. Here is the way the Torah tells us the story: “G-d said to Moses, ‘See I have made you a master over Pharaoh. Aaron, your brother, will be your interpreter. You should say my commandments and Aaron, your brother, shall then explain them.’”

This verse is a response to Moses’s objection about speaking to Pharaoh directly because of his speech impediment. But if that were the case, then G-d should have appointed Aaron to be his interpreter and that’s it. Why the need for Moses to say G-d’s commandments first? Aaron should have been the only one to speak!

From this we see that sometimes the expected path is not the productive path. There are times when we must rely on every tool we have, even if it is saying G-d’s commandments in Hebrew to someone who does not understand Hebrew. Just saying those words draws down “superpowers” that can break through the toughest obstacles.

Moses’s job was not to convince Pharaoh to let the Jews go. That was up to Aaron, and he had no chance at succeeding. Moses’s job was to overwhelm Pharaoh with G-dly superpowers until he broke down, since he had no defenses left.

This is applicable to our own lives as well. At times, we might wonder, “Why pray, especially in Hebrew? What am I accomplishing if I don’t fully understand the words I am saying?” There are times when we can just blow down a brick wall, so any words will do. Then there are times when we need a little more power, so we pray with more intention, using more of our tools. And then there are the times when we must pull out all the stops, so that we can get the blessings to flow freely. Those are the times when we tap into the “Moses” within us, and just call out to G-d in Hebrew. Then the “Aaron” within us kicks in, and we refine our prayers, and explain in our own words, why we need these blessings.

Once we tap into our G-dly abilities, any wall can come down.

Edited by geminiwordsmiths.com

Be Innovative

Friday, January 20, 2017 - 12:48 PM

A wild forest and a beautiful garden have all the same elements. The difference is purely in the way the trees, shrubs and flowers are laid out. In the wilderness, they are wild; in the garden, on the other hand, they are meticulously orchestrated in such a way that it brings out the unique beauty of each and every plant. This is not just the function of rearranging, this is the aptitude of recreating. Something new comes out of our effort that was never seen before.

This is a power of the human being.

However, it is the potential of invention and discovery which truly brings out the unique quality of the human. In our times, we can see how innovation has led us to fascinating technology with which we conduct our daily lives. It is our faculty of creativity and invention which has formed the modern world.

You may ask: How does this relate to the Torah portion of the week?

In this week’s portion, Shemot, we are told how the Jews were given straw and clay, which they mixed and then formed into blocks of the right shape and then used them to build the cities of “Pitom and Ramses” for Pharaoh.

Bad turns to worse when Pharaoh tells the Jews he will no longer supply them with straw for the bricks. From now on they will have to gather it themselves.

However, the Jews turned this around and said: “Let’s figure this one out. How can we continue to create the same amount of bricks in the same amount of time while still fetching the supplies?” They used their ability to innovate, their minds to think, and to come up with a plan that will advance their “technology” to further the mission of the Egyptians.

This is not just a story of the past; it’s the story of our lives today.

We too may find ourselves in a kind of spiritual slavery, in which we use our personal creative minds to innovate within our "Egypt" and with our own “Egyptian taskmasters.” To put it other words, at times we find ourselves using these same powers and abilities for purely material purposes, perhaps even, for selfish functions. We use these same powers to build "Pitom and Ramses."

Redemption from Egypt, on a personal level, means, that this human power of invention is our own redemption from our self-imposed slavery. It allows us to devoted to unselfish goals, and even better, to spiritual goals. Our drive to invente is used to serve G-d. In the imagery of the Torah, when redeemed, we make bricks not for Pharaoh's store cities but to build "a house for G-d."

This is the real power of the human being!

Seeing The Light In The Middle Of \Tthe Tunnel

Thursday, January 12, 2017 - 6:12 PM

“I can see the light at the end of the tunnel” is an expression we use when, while we may be going through difficult times at this moment, we can see good times ahead. There is light at the end.

This seems to be a positive lifter-upper.

However, this adage should be given a second look. Although this saying sounds positive, it is actually a pretty pessimistic outlook on life. Just think of how we are referring to the here and now: We are saying that what we are going through is actually bad, yet we should keep in mind that in the end it will all be good. Deal with the reality, because it will get better.

This week’s Torah portion, Vayechi, teaches us to look at life a little differently.

The portion starts off with the words “Vayechi Yaakov” meaning “and Jacob lived.” But Jacob only lives the last seventeen years of his life in Egypt, so “lived” is an over-representation of his life as a whole. Even though the words make sense within this verse, to call the whole Torah portion, Vayechi, after his seventeen years doesn’t fit well—especially when we keep in mind that the majority of the portion talks about after Jacob’s death, not his life.

So then why is the portion called “and Jacob lived?”

The Torah is teaching us a profound lesson here.

Although Jacob only had seventeen good years of his life – the period when his whole family lived in peace and harmony together in Egypt – this time represented his whole life. It was not that “in the end it all worked out.” All along he experienced light even in the darkest moments of his life, and that is why he was always alive and why his final years were full of life—he brought the light of all his years to a crescendo in his last seventeen years.

This is also why the Torah doesn’t mention Jacob’s death, to teach us that just as his children continued living on with his message, so, too, is he still alive. His ideas and attitudes continue even after his passing.

Jacob saw the light in the dark tunnel of his life, not only at the end of it.

We, too, should be constantly looking for the good in life, even when it seems dark and bleak.

Making an impact

Thursday, January 5, 2017 - 6:38 PM

There is something about our homes that is uniquely ours. No place on earth can replicate our homes. The fanciest hotels and the most luxurious amenities are still not the same. A home is a home.

The Land of Israel is the Jewish people’s home. No other land in the world can be compared to Israel. No other land can be called our home. Every Jew, even if they don’t live in Israel, knows and feels it when they walk on the ground in Israel, that this land is our home.

The reason for this is because G-d gave the land of Israel to us! G-d told Abraham that He will give us this land as an inheritance to Abraham’s offspring, the Jewish people. Therefore, as Jews, we have the ownership rights to this land, and we feel it.

That is why it is so interesting when the Torah tells us in this week’s Torah portion, Vayigash, that Joseph gave the city of Goshen in Egypt to the Jews as an achuza, loosely translated as an “inheritance.” How is it possible that Goshen, Egypt should be ours? And if it is ours, why did we have to be freed from this land that is called “our land”?

There are many commentators who explain the hows and whys of the meaning of this word. Yet, what is really important to us is to take a lesson from the word.

The literal translation of the word achuza is “possession,” meaning, that the Jews took possession of the land. However, it can also mean just the opposite—that the land took possession of the Jews.

If our environment takes possession of us, it means that we have lost control, and the world around us is influencing us. In the case of the Jews in Goshen, it means that Egypt affected them. But if we take control of the world around us, and we influence it, then we are not only in control of our own lives, but we also have control over the world around us. In the case of the Jews in Egypt, this means that they had an effect on their environment.

This is the deeper meaning of the word inheritance: Inheritance means we are the sole possessor of what is given to us. We have it, and it is ours.

The lesson that Joseph is teaching his brothers is that even though you may be living in a land temporarily, you still have an obligation to make a difference. Never say I am here just for a while and therefore I will not invest myself in making a difference. Just the opposite is our obligation: Anywhere Jews go, they should take possession of their surroundings and change the world for the better.

Therefore, whether we are at home or on the road, everywhere we go, we have an obligation to make this world a better place.