In this week's Torah portion, the narrative surrounding Joseph continues. He is ruler of Egypt and is approached by his brothers, who is unaware that he is Joseph; their brother.
Many lessons can be learnt from their treatment by him.
He repays them with kindness, by giving them plenty of food. This is despite the fact he had every reason not to! They sold him as a slave, setting in motion the chain of events that caused Joseph much pain and suffering, including languishing in an egyptian jail for several years.
Why did Joseph act with such kindness towards his brothers?
This incident teaches us to convey an important, fundamental principle.
We are taught by the sages in numerous places that "Everything that God does is for the good". Therefore, all the ordeal that Joseph was put through by his brothers was for his and the greater good. Therefore, he owed his brothers a deal of gratitude, for they were the messengers that enabled this good to realised.
This incident teaches us to appreciate the good in the world; however concealed it may be.
And as we see the Channukah candles burning, with the light clearly illuminating the darkness around, it is very easy to see. However, one flick of a lightswitch quickly cancels out the inspiring glow of the candles. It is then, when the candles are just bits of surplus light; that we have to appreicate their beauty.
Tuesday, 27 December 2011
Assimilation and Channukah
Oil is probably the most politically incorrect of all liquids. It simply refuses to compromise its uniqueness.
If oil were a person it would almost certainly be condemned for its stubborn unwillingness to blend in with others. It chooses to remain aloof, separate and distinct. Mix it with water and it stays apart and maintains its own identity.
No matter how hard you try, oil stays true to itself and just won't assimilate.
Perhaps that's why it deserved to become the ultimate symbol of the Chanukah miracle.
When we celebrate the victory of the Maccabees over the Syrian Greeks, we need to remember what was really at stake in this major confrontation. This was a war unlike any other. It wasn't fought to conquer more territory. It wasn't meant to capture more booty or bodies. This was ultimately a conflict between two totally different ways of viewing the world.
The story of Chanukah is all about a clash of cultures. The Greeks weren't out to kill the Jews. Their intent wasn't genocide of a people. It was rather a battle against those who threatened their commitment to hedonism, their infatuation with the body, their obsession with athletic competitions to prove superior worth. In these they found beauty – and the very meaning of life.
Keats summed up well the Greek ideal in his magnificentOdeOn A Grecian Urn:
For beauty is truth and truth is beauty; that is all ye know and all ye need to know
What the Greeks worshiped was the holiness of beauty. What the Jews wanted to teach the world instead was the beauty of holiness.
The victory of the Maccabees was the triumph of those who exemplified the unique characteristic of oil and refused to assimilate, and instead chose to remain steadfast in our mission to bring the moral vision of Judaism to the world.
That is what makes the story of the Maccabees so very relevant to our time.
In the past few weeks we've been witness to a rather bitter debate about a provocative advertising campaign sponsored by an Israeli Ministry. It seems that the Ministry of Absorption thought it would be a good idea to convince Israeli expatriates living in the United States to come back home by dramatizing the risk of assimilation of their children and grandchildren in the Diaspora. The theme of the ads promoted the idea that living outside of the Jewish homeland threatened their link with the Jewish past, with Jewish tradition and with Jewish culture.
That led to huge fireworks. A prominent Jewish spokesmen declared, "I don't think I have ever seen a demonstration of Israeli contempt for American Jews as obvious as these ads." Critics assailed the campaign as a vicious attack on "the Jewishness" of all those outside of Israel.
So strong was the hue and cry of outrage that the ads were quickly removed. The campaign obviously touched a delicate nerve. In what may very well have been viewed as an over wrought slander on the possibility of Jewish life outside of Israel, the reaction nevertheless vividly demonstrated the powerful fear generated by the thought of assimilation.
And if the ads were wrong because of the way they seemed to differentiate between life in America as opposed to Israel, their message should surely be acknowledged as a wake-up call to Jews no matter where they may be living.
Because the bottom line is that after more than 2000 years, the spirit of the Maccabees seems to be losing in its battle to prevent Jews from assimilating into a fervent embrace of secular culture and ideology.
The Greeks gave us the Olympics. In an irony that defies all logic the Maccabees, who fought for the supremacy of the Temple over the sporting arena, were chosen as the name for the Maccabiah, the international Jewish athletic event similar to the Olympics held in Israel every four years.
Athletic contests are wonderful venues for physical recreation. They cease to be admirable when they take over our lives, as they sometimes do, not only in professional settings but even in collegiate contexts.
Please don't distort what I'm saying. Sporting events are fine if they are understood as adjuncts to a spiritual life. But when they become an end unto themselves, we adopt a foreign value and assimilate.
Assimilation today takes many forms.
We've assimilated when all we want is to party, never to pray.
We've assimilated when all we care about is what we look like on the outside, not what we feel like on the inside.
We've assimilated when our greatest goals are fame and fortune rather than love and learning.
We've assimilated when more than anything else we want to envied by the eyes of our fellow man instead of being treasured in the sight of God.
We've assimilated when our chief goal is to accumulate more goods rather than simply to be good.
We've assimilated when we are far more interested in our inheritance than in our legacy, by what we get from the past rather than what we give to the future.
We've assimilated when we consider our children burdens rather than blessings and when we believe the best things we can give them are valuables rather than values.
Our tradition teaches us to revere the beauty of holiness. That was what the Maccabees fought for as they confronted an alien culture that stressed the body over the soul, the material over the spiritual. That remains our challenge.
Like the oil of the Chanukah story, we dare not assimilate.
As we bring ever greater light into our homes every night with its flame, we affirm our belief that we will succeed. We will maintain our uniqueness that has enabled us not only to survive but to be the torchbearers of morality and civilization for all mankind.
by Rabbi Benjamin Blech
If oil were a person it would almost certainly be condemned for its stubborn unwillingness to blend in with others. It chooses to remain aloof, separate and distinct. Mix it with water and it stays apart and maintains its own identity.
No matter how hard you try, oil stays true to itself and just won't assimilate.
Perhaps that's why it deserved to become the ultimate symbol of the Chanukah miracle.
When we celebrate the victory of the Maccabees over the Syrian Greeks, we need to remember what was really at stake in this major confrontation. This was a war unlike any other. It wasn't fought to conquer more territory. It wasn't meant to capture more booty or bodies. This was ultimately a conflict between two totally different ways of viewing the world.
The story of Chanukah is all about a clash of cultures. The Greeks weren't out to kill the Jews. Their intent wasn't genocide of a people. It was rather a battle against those who threatened their commitment to hedonism, their infatuation with the body, their obsession with athletic competitions to prove superior worth. In these they found beauty – and the very meaning of life.
Keats summed up well the Greek ideal in his magnificentOdeOn A Grecian Urn:
For beauty is truth and truth is beauty; that is all ye know and all ye need to know
What the Greeks worshiped was the holiness of beauty. What the Jews wanted to teach the world instead was the beauty of holiness.
The Greeks worshiped the holiness of beauty. The Jews taught the world the beauty of holiness.It was the battle between these two ideas that defined the war of the Maccabees. Sad to say, there were Jews who were seduced by the seductive wiles of secularism and forsook their ancient heritage. They sold their blessings for a mess of pottage. They renounced the message of the prophets for the glory of the games. They chose the temporary rewards of the body over the eternal blessings of the spirit. They are known as the Hellenists. They assimilated – and haven't been heard from since.
The victory of the Maccabees was the triumph of those who exemplified the unique characteristic of oil and refused to assimilate, and instead chose to remain steadfast in our mission to bring the moral vision of Judaism to the world.
That is what makes the story of the Maccabees so very relevant to our time.
In the past few weeks we've been witness to a rather bitter debate about a provocative advertising campaign sponsored by an Israeli Ministry. It seems that the Ministry of Absorption thought it would be a good idea to convince Israeli expatriates living in the United States to come back home by dramatizing the risk of assimilation of their children and grandchildren in the Diaspora. The theme of the ads promoted the idea that living outside of the Jewish homeland threatened their link with the Jewish past, with Jewish tradition and with Jewish culture.
That led to huge fireworks. A prominent Jewish spokesmen declared, "I don't think I have ever seen a demonstration of Israeli contempt for American Jews as obvious as these ads." Critics assailed the campaign as a vicious attack on "the Jewishness" of all those outside of Israel.
So strong was the hue and cry of outrage that the ads were quickly removed. The campaign obviously touched a delicate nerve. In what may very well have been viewed as an over wrought slander on the possibility of Jewish life outside of Israel, the reaction nevertheless vividly demonstrated the powerful fear generated by the thought of assimilation.
And if the ads were wrong because of the way they seemed to differentiate between life in America as opposed to Israel, their message should surely be acknowledged as a wake-up call to Jews no matter where they may be living.
Because the bottom line is that after more than 2000 years, the spirit of the Maccabees seems to be losing in its battle to prevent Jews from assimilating into a fervent embrace of secular culture and ideology.
The Greeks gave us the Olympics. In an irony that defies all logic the Maccabees, who fought for the supremacy of the Temple over the sporting arena, were chosen as the name for the Maccabiah, the international Jewish athletic event similar to the Olympics held in Israel every four years.
Athletic contests are wonderful venues for physical recreation. They cease to be admirable when they take over our lives, as they sometimes do, not only in professional settings but even in collegiate contexts.
Please don't distort what I'm saying. Sporting events are fine if they are understood as adjuncts to a spiritual life. But when they become an end unto themselves, we adopt a foreign value and assimilate.
Assimilation today takes many forms.
We've assimilated when all we want is to party, never to pray.
We've assimilated when all we care about is what we look like on the outside, not what we feel like on the inside.
We've assimilated when our greatest goals are fame and fortune rather than love and learning.
We've assimilated when more than anything else we want to envied by the eyes of our fellow man instead of being treasured in the sight of God.
We've assimilated when our chief goal is to accumulate more goods rather than simply to be good.
We've assimilated when we are far more interested in our inheritance than in our legacy, by what we get from the past rather than what we give to the future.
We've assimilated when we consider our children burdens rather than blessings and when we believe the best things we can give them are valuables rather than values.
Our tradition teaches us to revere the beauty of holiness. That was what the Maccabees fought for as they confronted an alien culture that stressed the body over the soul, the material over the spiritual. That remains our challenge.
Like the oil of the Chanukah story, we dare not assimilate.
As we bring ever greater light into our homes every night with its flame, we affirm our belief that we will succeed. We will maintain our uniqueness that has enabled us not only to survive but to be the torchbearers of morality and civilization for all mankind.
by Rabbi Benjamin Blech
Sunday, 18 December 2011
Mussar from the Torah Portion - MIKEITZ
| Mikeitz: Waiting for the Dream |
It took a long time, but Joseph's dreams eventually came to pass.
How long? Joseph became viceroy of Egypt at age thirty, and nine years later (after seven years of plenty and two years of famine), his brothers came to buy food. So Joseph's dream that his brothers would one day bow down before him and recognize his greatness were fulfilled only when he was 39 years old. Since he had dreamt those dreams of future greatness at age 17, we see that they took 22 years to come true!
| "Rabbi Levy said: one should wait as long as 22 years for a good dream to come true. This we learn from Joseph." (Berachot 54a) |
What is special about the number 22? In what way is it connected to the fulfillment of dreams?
Rav Kook noted that there are 22 letters in the Hebrew alphabet. Through myriad combinations of these 22 letters, we can express all of our thoughts and ideas. If we were to lack even one letter, however, we would be unable to formulate certain words and ideas.
The ancient mystical work "Sefer Hayetzira" ("Book of Formation") makes an interesting point concerning the creation and functioning of the universe. Just as words and ideas are composed of letters, so too, the vast array of forces that govern our world are in fact composed of a small number of fundamental causes. If all 22 letters are needed to accurately express any idea, so too 22 years are needed for all those elemental forces in the world to bring about any desired effect. Thus, we should allow a dream as long as 22 years to come to fruition.#
Rabbi Levy is also teaching us another lesson: nothing is completely worthless. We should not be hasty to disregard a dream. In every vision, there resides some element of truth, some grain of wisdom. It may take 22 years to be revealed, or its potential may never be realized in this world. But it always contains some kernel of truth.
Friday, 16 December 2011
Thought for the Week - Vayeishev
In this week's Torah portion, Joseph is flung into a pit, to await his death, or Reuben's secret plan to rescue him clandestinely.
The Torah describes the pit as being "empty, without any water."
Asks the Vilna Gaon, why it has to relate that the pit was empty and not aqueous at all?
Rashi explains that the Torah tells us there wasn't any water in the pit to implicate the fact that there were scorpions and snakes in the pit - not the safest place to be at all!
However, says the Vilna Gaon, that the water represents spirituality and the snakes and scorpions indicate the vain pursuits that one can pursue in the physical world.
The Torah is compared to Torah in Rabbi Akiba's famous parable about a fox who tries to entice a fish to escape the fishermen by jumping up onto dry land, for the fox's lunch. The fish rebukes the fox by exclaiming that if in the water they have a chance of being caught and killed; on land they will surely 100% die!
We see from this there is no middle ground. We have to strive to fill our "pits" with water. We cannot let snakes and scorpions in. Ask any professional terminator, the best way of dealing with an infestation is the clear out the place or block the hole/crevice where the infestation takes place. By filling ourselves with spirituality, we ensure that no negative influences can come in; there simply isn't any room.
This week I shall...
...contemplate my role in bringing spirituality to my life, using the wisdom of the Torah to help me in my day to day occurrences.
Shabbat Shalom
The Torah describes the pit as being "empty, without any water."
Asks the Vilna Gaon, why it has to relate that the pit was empty and not aqueous at all?
Rashi explains that the Torah tells us there wasn't any water in the pit to implicate the fact that there were scorpions and snakes in the pit - not the safest place to be at all!
However, says the Vilna Gaon, that the water represents spirituality and the snakes and scorpions indicate the vain pursuits that one can pursue in the physical world.
The Torah is compared to Torah in Rabbi Akiba's famous parable about a fox who tries to entice a fish to escape the fishermen by jumping up onto dry land, for the fox's lunch. The fish rebukes the fox by exclaiming that if in the water they have a chance of being caught and killed; on land they will surely 100% die!
We see from this there is no middle ground. We have to strive to fill our "pits" with water. We cannot let snakes and scorpions in. Ask any professional terminator, the best way of dealing with an infestation is the clear out the place or block the hole/crevice where the infestation takes place. By filling ourselves with spirituality, we ensure that no negative influences can come in; there simply isn't any room.
This week I shall...
...contemplate my role in bringing spirituality to my life, using the wisdom of the Torah to help me in my day to day occurrences.
Shabbat Shalom
Thursday, 15 December 2011
Ethics from the Weekly Torah Portion - Vayeishev
Fighting Fire... With fire?
In this week's Torah portion we read about Joseph, who is wrongly imprisoned at Potiphar's wife's claims that he was trying to seduce her, when in actual fact it was the absolute reverse!
He was flung in jail by the corrupt Egyptian regime. Therefore it would have seemed natural for him and perfectly understandable if he would have hated Pharoah's butler and baker, who were flung in jail with him.
But once again, the absolute opposite occured. Joseph even inquired about their welfare, having seen they were perturbed and at severe unrest by their mystic dreams; which Joseph proceeded to interpret.
And it was this that saved his life and set the balls rolling in what has become Jewish history that was set in motion way back then and continues until this very day.
By having interpreted their dreams, the butler knew he was good at interpreting dreams in general, which came in handy when Pharoah had his own troubling dream 2 years later.
It was this one act of kindness that got Joseph rescued from jail and enabled salvation for him and his brothers later on during the famine.
We see from this that we must never underestimate what one act of kindness can do. We are told in the Talmud that good deeds is one of three things that keep the world in existence.
We also see from this episode that we must instigate this. Many people will respond to requests; but it is far better to be the instigator. I have personally experienced many times when I have been a guest in a synagogue or a Jewish community the numerous offers of hospitality and assistance that were offered to me without any action on my part.
This is what we learn from Joseph and this is how we should strive to act in inter-personal relationships.
Shabbat Shalom!
Tuesday, 13 December 2011
Short Thought from the Parsha - Vayeishev
"your sheaves bowed down to me"
"the sun, moon, and eleven stars bowed down to my star"
This week's Torah portion discusses, amongst other things, the 2 dreams Joseph has and tells his brothers about. One is about the sun and the moon, spiritual things; And the other about sheaves of grain; physical things.
However, Classic Chassidic thought tells us that the fact that both these dreams had the same meaning shows us that our physical and spiritual lives must be one and the same- we should live with the spiritual fully ingrained in us, and not two separate entities.
Today I shall...
Remember I am both a Jew and a Human being, and will try to create a fusion of these two elements for the greater good.
"the sun, moon, and eleven stars bowed down to my star"
This week's Torah portion discusses, amongst other things, the 2 dreams Joseph has and tells his brothers about. One is about the sun and the moon, spiritual things; And the other about sheaves of grain; physical things.
However, Classic Chassidic thought tells us that the fact that both these dreams had the same meaning shows us that our physical and spiritual lives must be one and the same- we should live with the spiritual fully ingrained in us, and not two separate entities.
Today I shall...
Remember I am both a Jew and a Human being, and will try to create a fusion of these two elements for the greater good.
Sunday, 11 December 2011
VAYEISHEV - Ethics from the Torah Portion
| Vayeishev: The Nature of Exile |
"They took Joseph and threw him into the pit. The pit was empty and had no water within it" - (Bereishit / Gensis 37:24)
When the brothers threw Joseph into the pit, the exile began — not just Joseph's personal exile from his father's house and the Land of Israel. From that dark, empty pit, began the exile of the entire Jewish people to Egypt.
Joseph's pit is a metaphor for Galut, for each exile of the Jewish people from their land.
Three Types of Pits
There are, of course, different kinds of pits. There are pits filled with water, wells that provide life to those living near them. One must be careful not to fall in and drown, but these are productive, useful pits.
Then there are empty pits. They serve no purpose, and are dangerous. Nonetheless, even empty pits have a positive side to them. With effort and skill, they may be filled with water and transformed into useful pits.
And there is a third type of pit. The Talmud (Shabbat 22a) quotes Rabbi Tanchum that Joseph's pit belonged to this third category. It was empty of water, but it contained other things — snakes and scorpions. Such a pit is of no use — neither actual nor potential - for humans.
Some mistake the pit of Exile for a well of water. Yes, one must be careful not to drown in it; but overall, they claim, it is a positive experience. If Jews are careful to act in a manner that will not arouse anti- Semitism, they can dwell comfortably in their foreign homes.
But the true nature of Exile is like Joseph's pit, full of snakes and scorpions. It is a dangerous and deadly place for the Jewish people. Such a pit has only one redeeming quality, intrinsic to its very nature: it will never mislead the Jews into mistaking it for their permanent homeland.
Snakes and Scorpions
Rabbi Tanchum spoke of a pit containing snakes and scorpions. What is the difference between these two dangerous animals? A snake bites with its head, while a scorpion stings with its tail. The snakebite is a planned and intentional act, executed by the directives of the snake's brain. A scorpion stings from its tail instinctively, without thought.
Exile is accompanied by both of these blessings. There are times of intentional and malevolent persecution, such as those perpetrated by the Crusaders, Chmielnicki's Cossacks, Nazi Germany, and other sinister snakes of history. These are dark hours for the Jewish people, but they are also times of shining heroism and self-sacrifice.
Worse than these intentional snakebites are the continual, unintentional scorpion stings which are an intrinsic part of Exile. Cultural dissonance, intermarriage, and assimilation take their slow, unintended toll on the Jewish people and their connection to the Torah.
The afflictions of Exile are by heavenly decree, lest we confuse a temporary resting place in the Diaspora for a permanent home for the Jewish people. The only true remedy for these snakebites and scorpion-stings is to rescue the Jews from the pit, and restore them to their proper homeland.
by Rabbi Chanan Morrison
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