Rabbi Shaya's Thoughts

Can You Bribe G-d?

Thursday, August 25, 2016 - 12:43 PM

We often read about the idea that every relationship – with our spouses, our children or even with good friends or clients – can be viewed as a bank account. What we can withdraw is based on what we have deposited. The more we do for the other person—the deposit, the more we can expect in return—the withdrawal. More so, we cannot expect something in return if we haven’t done anything for the other one to begin with.

For conversation’s sake, let’s say that this is a good theory to operate under with others. Would the same theory, however, apply to our relationship with G-d? Can we only expect our prayers to be answered if we make a deposit? Can money really buy a blessing? Can charity negate sins?

While we may think it absurd to presume that G-d works this way, in this week’s Torah portion, Eikev, G-d warns that, “He will not take a bribe!” The fact that the Torah has to tell us not to try to bribe G-d with a contribution, means that if not for the admonition, we might be able to bribe G-d!

What is the message?

One may think that doing a Mitzvah is making a deposit, or performing a sin is a withdrawal, and as long as we continue to make more deposits we are in good standing. The Torah teaches us that it doesn’t work that way.

It’s especially important to understand this when it comes to tzedakah.

The concept of tzedakah is often misunderstood. Many believe it to be all about the receiver and not about the giver, but the opposite is true. When giving tzedakah, the giver understands that they have to give away a portion of what they have earned. This shows that they recognize that everything that they have comes directly from G-d. Giving tzedakah is a sign that we recognize G-d’s blessings in our lives. Tzedakah is not just “charity” that is given to gain favor in someone’s eyes, let alone G-d’s eyes; it is simply the right thing to do. It is not something extra.

That is why we cannot call it a deposit. A deposit is when we do something extra, not when we do what is expected of us.

If we want to get rid of a sin, we have to truly repent. We have to regret our action; our tzedakah and good deeds will confirm that we really mean what we are saying, not just giving lip service.

Edited by GeminiWordsmiths.com/

From Finite to Infinite in Three Steps

Thursday, August 18, 2016 - 6:28 PM

As Jews we want to have a relationship with G-d, but at the end of the day, how can we? If G-d is an infinite G-d and we are finite human beings, then we are a different species. Worlds apart from each other, how can we connect?

What is interesting is that when the Torah tells us that G-d wants us to “know Him,” “knowing” does not refer to having faith. It refers to gaining knowledge, which makes the question even more intriguing! I can have faith in things that I don’t understand. There are things that I cannot relate to, yet I see in action, and therefore somehow I can trust them. The weather forecasts are a good example. I am not a meteorologist, nor do I fully understand how the science works, but I do have faith in meteorologists’ forecasts because they have proven reliable – at least most of the time – but I cannot say that I “know” how it all works. At best, I have “faith” in them. So how can the infinite G-d want us to “know” Him?

The answer lies in a verse found in this week’s Torah portion, Va’etchanan. Loosely translated, the verse reads, “I have shown Myself to you so that you should know Me, in the heavens above, in the earth below, endlessly.” If our knowledge of G-d is without end, then why the need to specify the heavens and earth?

We must say that these are not just locations, but steps on our journey to know Him.

Step #1: We have to think about what goes in our “heaven,” i.e., our morning. How did my day start out? Well, I woke up. True, but that in and of itself should cause us to reflect: Why did G-d give me another day? Shouldn’t I be thankful for this new opportunity? If we answer yes, and we recite the Mode Ani prayer in which we come to this recognition and thank G-d for this new day, then we took the first step.

Step #2: We have to bring this feeling into our lives. We start the day with some prayer and some study so that we can know more about the world that G-d created, and thereby “know G-d.” We feed and nourish the “earth” within us.

Step #3: We take this into our place of work, into our day-to-day dealings. When even our mundane lives are infused with spirituality and G-dliness, then we “know” G-d through our behavior. At that point, we are behaving as Jews should behave—the knowledge is one with who we are as a people.

This kind of knowing is limitless; there are no boundaries for us to know ourselves. This kind of knowledge is beyond “information” or even any “faith” that we may have. This is who we are.

If we take these three steps, then we can leap from the finite world into the infinite. It is when we can look within ourselves and find our essence, we can find the infinite.

How Can G-d Destroy the Temple?

Sunday, August 14, 2016 - 8:26 AM

This Shabbat is the 9^th of Av, the anniversary of the destruction of the Holy Temple, but we observe this sad day on Sunday so as to honor Shabbat. I would like to share with you a peculiar Midrash, which helps explain the depth of this week’s observance. On the day that the Holy Temple was destroyed, an Arab who lived far away from Jerusalem heard a donkey braying, and commented that it must have meant the Holy Temple was destroyed. A few moments later he heard the donkey braying again, and this time he said it meant that the process of their redemption had started, this means that their Redeemer, Moshiach, was born.

I am not sharing this story just because of its unusual subject matter, but because it answers a fundamental question: How is it possible for G-d to have destroyed the Temple when Torah law states that you cannot destroy a building, let alone a holy place, for no purpose? You definitely cannot destroy something out of rage, which, seemingly, is what G-d has done.

The Arab’s comments were insightful: He was saying that G-d didn’t destroy for the sake of destroying; he destroyed with the anticipation of rebuilding!

The Arab commented that although the Jews could see only a burned Temple at that time, they should have realized that G-d had already planned their comeback. Moshiach the Redeemer had been born! The future redemption had already begun.

The same idea applies to us as well today. There are times when we may feel that our “house” is burning and everything that we have built is falling apart, but sometimes the only way out is to let go. What is important is that at the same time that we are letting go, we start rebuilding!

This idea is reflected in this week’s Haftarah as well. The main theme of the Haftarah is about the destruction of the Temple, but then it finishes with the statement that by giving Tzedukah, we will be redeemed and brought back to Jerusalem.

This teaches us that not only should we never give up hope, we have to take some positive steps as well.

Celebrating My Father's Yartziet

Friday, August 5, 2016 - 12:57 PM

Ten Years.

I can’t believe that this week we marked my father’s yahrzeit for the tenth time. Does time heal grief? Should I even allow time to heal me? His presence is missed, yet I feel him with me all the time. What am I to do with these conflicting feelings?

The Yiddish word yahrzeit means a years’ time, an anniversary. However, in Hebrew we call it a Yom Hilulah—this loosely translates to a “day of celebration,” a time that we dedicate to remembering the positive lessons of one’s life. Within this meaning, I am OK if I am talking about the yahrzeit of someone from a previous generation, someone whom I have never met. However, when I am talking about my beloved father, it is easier said than done. How can I “celebrate” this day?

At times like this I look to the Torah for guidance. This is what I found in this week’s Torah portion.

The story is told of how the Jews are about to go into the land of Israel. Two tribes, Reuven and Gad, approach Moses and ask permission to stay on this side of the Jordan River. They explain that the grass is greener here and they have many animals that need pasture. Moses is up in arms! Here they go again! They are just like the spies of 38 years prior. Why can’t they just go along with G-d’s plan and trust that there will be enough grass in Israel proper? They pleaded with Moses, promising him that they will go along and fight together with all the Jews, and only when everyone is settled in the land of Israel will they come back to their families. Moses gives in, reluctantly.

What is surprising is that when this episode is recorded in the Torah, suddenly half of another tribe is in the mix. Half of the tribe of Menashe will join Reuven and Gad. This is not because they asked for it; on the contrary, they love Israel so much they did not want this “honor.” The tribe of Menashe is known for its fervent commitment to the land of Israel, and that is why only half the tribe requested to stay. Where did the order for them to stay come from? Directly from Moses.

So is Moses embracing the idea of living on the other side of the Jordan River? Or is he sending half a tribe along to make sure that the others don’t go astray? Are the actions of Reuven and Gad shortcomings – to refrain from doing – or are they virtues, worthy of celebration? What is Moses’s message? On the one hand he is discouraging Reuven and Gad on the other hand he is encouraging Menashe.

Moses sees the big picture. The Torah teaches us that in the time of Moshiach, the Land of Israel will expand to include the territory on the other side of the Jordan River. Therefore, if you are a fervent believer in the holiness of the Land of Israel, and you have complete trust in G-d that He will provide for you, then living on the other side of the Jordan is not only for the physical greener grass that is there now, but for the spiritual growth that will come at a later date with the arrival of Moshiach and can already be experienced now on a small scale.

Moses wanted to ensure that although the tribes of Reuven and Gad looked for the wrong thing at that moment, with guidance from the tribe of Menashe, they would remain focused on what really matters in life: Instead of looking for physical comforts, they would be expanding their spiritual worlds as well.

This same idea applies to me. On the one hand I mourn the loss of my father, but on the other hand, it awakens within me a desire for Moshiach to come, a time when we will be reunited with our loved ones.

If I can focus on the future instead of on the past, then, and only then, can I “celebrate” this day.