January 30, 2009

This week's Torah portion, Bo, chronicles the last of the plagues and the moments preceding the actual exodus - all the directives of Passover, matzoh, marror, paschal lamb, sanctifying the new month, collecting the Egyptians' spoils, etc... As most people note, the Matzoh reminds us of how quickly we were whisked out of bondage by the grace and divine dexterity of the Almighty. True, we were in the midst of some delectable backing when, quite disturbingly, God gave the word "go" and nere did the bread have time to rise; baked on our backs, we 'accidentally' invented Matzoh. Most people don't realize, however, that Matzoh was not something new. In fact, just a few days earlier, we actually rehearsed the whole Passover seder, replete with shank-bone (the real thing!), marror and - you guessed it - Matzoh. The entire Jewish people were commanded to make and eat Matzoh well before the serendipitous quick sprint to the finish which left our yeast in the dust. If so, why do we "need" both Matzhos? That question I'll leave for you to ponder. What we do see, however, is that before we physically experienced freedom, we had to taste it - literally.

The Torah describes how Abraham was purported to have eaten Matzoh on the 15th of Nissan (Passover day); yet he was generations and generations before Egypt!?! His synchronization to the mystical depths of the Almighty's creation allowed him to tap into every last detail - that this is the 'day' of freedom and this is the 'food' of freedom. A careful study of the Passover menu will tell you everything you need to know about what true freedom is. And more than that, one who really knows freedom, wouldn't eat anything else.

Here's what the Egyptians learned about freedom. The ninth plague was darkness. Not just the absence of light, but rather a thick, palpable and utterly restricting darkness which allowed no movement other than vertical - you could sit or stand all you like, but absolutely nothing else. Yet we see that the last day of the plague denied the Egyptians even that limited movement. The Egyptians were able to rationalize their autonomy and freedom of choice, despite their most limited options available to them - standing or sitting. Even so, they were convinced they were free. The last day of the plague rid them of any doubts; they couldn't move an inch, nor blink an eye. The true taste of real freedom, however, is in the Matzoh.

Back to the basics. No leaven (ego), no sweetner (lusts/passions), just flour and water cooked almost immediately upon mixture, lest there . A bread which reduces the world to the necessary components, the true components, and builds it's sustenance on that alone. No posturing, fantasizing, faking, or pretending something is what it's not. No running after flippant and passing pleasures, no selfishness, and on and on and on... The icing on the cake (yeast-less, please) is that everyone spreads a little jam, sugar, or something sweet on top. Sure, there is beauty and aesthetics to the world, and we're meant to partake of them, but in the right order and proportion - they are not part of the essential mix! They are not the goal, but rather are only able to be properly used when the priorities and essentials are in place.

Wishing you a beautiful Shabbos and a speedy personal redemption,

Rabbi Lynn

January 23, 2009

It's always a remarkable image: little Jewish children sitting around the Passover table cheering on the devastation and destruction of the Egyptians through methodical, step by step torturous and murderous plagues. One by one, blood, frogs, lice, beasts, pestilence, boils, hail, locusts, darkness and finally death. Yippee! Isn't Passover so much fun?! As if that wasn't enough, Moshe taunts Pharaoh (at God's urging of course) with debilitating psychological warfare, pretending to ask for a mere 3 days "vacation" to fatten and slaughter a few sheep, the Egyptian god. Pharaoh knew it was an escape plan, but politicking in the UN back then was no different. Granted, the Egyptians had deceived the Jews into becoming "servants" of greater good through careful manipulation, and then maintained 120 years of brutal slavery and sadistic decrees - their demise was well deserved and who could fault the Jews for gawking. I mean, we're still at it millennium later.

Really, the plagues were as much for them as they were - and are - for us. Each plague serves a distinct purpose. Each plague elucidates a specific attribute of the Hebrew God that no other nation could possibly fathom: One singular entity whose existence encompasses all of creation leaving nothing to chance, save the free-will autonomy of man. No grain of sand, no gigabyte to small to be rendered insignificant; nay, the entire universe is one giant stage of almost infinite significance upon which the story of the human soul will unfold. The 10 plagues correspond to the 10 statements of creation, the 10 commandments, the 10 Sephirot (for you kabalists), the 10 distinctions of joy (for you romantics), and even your 10 fingers and toes. The world was de-created, re-created and shaken and stirred until every morsel of God's attainable glory was highlighted, and the Jewish people lifted to the status of a Nation - an entity far greater than the sum total of its parts, a new dimension where we as individuals cease to exist, yet where we coalesce into a creation much more God-like, and hence much closer.

Egypt was the world super-power in everything, including magic. So much so that the Jews couldn't fully 100% believe in the plague or Moshe's signs. 99% maybe, but not 100%. Even though the Egyptians couldn't reproduce more than the first two plagues, Jews always deep down harbored a sense of superiority and maybe figured Moshe could best the best. (Sinai eventually cleared up any doubts). During the third plague of lice, the Torah teaches that the Egyptian magicians tried, but were unsuccessful and headed to, at least, the "finger of God". Why couldn't they compete? Our Sages teach that lice were too small. Really? Rivers into blood, millions of miraculous frogs, but lice were too small?!?

The power of magic has no dominion over something with no substantive size - less than a mustard seed. The Maharal of Prague explains that magic is a manipulation of all the negative forces in creation, or more accurately, a utilization of the forces of creation negatively (much like love can be guided or misguided, ire, wealth, gravity...). Yet again, it begs the question, "why? Why can't magic rule over things smaller than a mustard seed?" If this is the most you've ever heard about a mustard seed, herein lies the answer. This is not some random comparison. The yardstick of something of substance, something of its own girth, so to speak, is a mustard seed. Anything less has no legal status, doesn't exist as its own entity. Magic, or utilitarian forces for evil, can only dominate over something that otherwise boasts of its own identity, its own self-perpetuating existence. One's ego, or self-inflation, is by definition an affront to the very concept of the Jewish God. It is here that evil takes root. But when the Jewish people humble themselves and no longer consider their own existence outside of God and the Jewish nation, magic has no recourse. When we're unified, we're only unified because we ignore the petty, the physical, the ego. This is the goal. This is one of the great consequences of experiencing the plagues - for a few moments in history we had our sights set on perfection, on oneness of purpose. These moments are precious. So precious we celebrate them year after year.

Good Shabbos

January 16, 2009

The book of Exodus is not called Exodus. The christian world which named it differently from the Hebrew it seems doesn't understand much of what we're about. We call it "Shmos", names, after the names of the 70 Jews who descended into Egypt and began the long journey into exile. They were the "names" because within all the names of our 12 tribes, each name alludes to redemption. Reuven means that "God saw my affliction", Shimon means that He heard, etc. The book is not about the last few minutes of the movie when we were redeemed. The book is about how our exile began. But no Jewish exile can begin without the seeds of salvation etched upon our very names. We may not know when or how, but we most certainly know nonetheless.

"Pharoh's daughter went down to bathe by the River and her maidens walked along the River. She saw the basked among the reeds and she sent her maidservant and she took it. She opened it and saw him, the boy, and behold! a youth was crying. She took pity and said, "This is a Jewish child." (Shmos 2:5-6). A seemingly strange conclusion; one would have to say she deduced that he was Jewish from his abandonment and the basket. However, a closer look reveals much more. What she saw was a "boy" - yeled means a small boy. But the next word says a "nahr" was crying - a word which connotes an already older, mature youth. Did Moses age in seconds? Our Sages teach us that although he was only an infant, his CRY was that of a mature youth; the difference being that an infant only cries for its selfish needs, while the sign of maturity is the ability to feel the pain of others. The cry was a mature cry. One on behalf of the Jewish people. That's how she knew he was a Jewish child.

When the Jewish people are in pain, it becomes plainly obvious - and all of history proves it (if we choose to ignore that reality today) - that the only people to care for us is us. The greatest attribute of our leader Moshe was his ability to carry the weight of his friend, feel his pain and make it his own. We're obligated to do the same. In my humble opinion, there is no point to any rally or political machination without this most fundamental Jewish requirement.

I'll just share with you two pieces which struck a chord. The first is this short video. The second is a piece I read in Arutz Sheva. Below is the translation.

Good Shabbos.

January 9, 2009

As Jews we believe with perfect faith that the Almighty is leading us and the world to a place where all is understood, all is calm, all is as I described last week - a sublime marriage of heaven and earth. Somehow, everything is a necessary piece of this epic saga called creation; the good and the bad equally taking their place on the dais once the dancing's done. We have a belief as well that the happenings of our forefathers are signs for us children. Not mere omens, but rather the trials and tribulation of the patriarchs, down to the minutest detail, are really the seeds/dna of everything that will befall the Jewish people in the expanded reality called history. It is always with this lens that we study the Torah.

Avraham had ten trials. His will certainly be ours: in that order, in that magnitude. His ninth ordeal, before the ultimate test of the binding of Isaac, was that of Ishmael. His time has now come. Ishmael, being the father of our Arab brethren, has paraded to the forefront of the world's stage, his presence now permeates the essence of every nation, the air we breathe is filled with his influence, and his ancient and timeless passion has enveloped the psyche of our modern era. Before the final trial, we will be - we are, in fact - playing out the scene which stars our hero, Avraham, and his beloved yet wayward progeny, Ishmael.

In this week's Torah portion, Vayechi, Jacobs blesses his children before he moves on (an important point to note is that Jacob never actually died - some people transition so flawlessly that death is inappropriate and uninvited). Blessings serve as a means to effect the realization of one's potential, both by first identifying it and subsequently meriting Divine acquiescence through the righteousness of he who's giving the blessing. Jacob could see the strengths of every son, or each tribe, and his spiritual success in life charged him with the task of administering. Like spokes on a wheel, Jacob was able to anchor and centralize the 12 completely disparate strengths and tendencies of his sons. The stronger the center, the further the spokes can be stretched, and the larger and faster the wheel. In these blessings we'll read this Shabbat lie the skeletal, muscular, pulmonary and respiratory systems of the Jewish people. Our most holy books speak out the details with remarkable precision. Our Sages have spelled out the intricacies of the Jewish condition, the Jewish people, and all that we must face and overcome to achieve the goal. The answers are all there in the Torah. First you need to be able to unlock it. Then you must be able to live it.

At a pro-Israel solidarity rally today in Philly I realized that we'll never success in playing our cards successfully in the public arena. That's just not what we do, and the more we attempt, it seems the more despised we become. I didn't get the impression that anyone felt something significant was accomplished. Not because we're not clever enough, but rather because chanting slogans and waving flags just didn't seem very Jewish. Often we may not know what positively identifies something as "jewish", but we can certainly spot it when it's not, and if the glove don't fit... If we look in the words of our Torah, if we heed the council of our Sages and learn the lessons from Jewish history, there seems to be a very different formula for a response.

Call an unequivocal cease-fire on something ungodly, something antithetical to our Torah, His word. Find a durable and sustainable plan to turn your life into a qualitatively holier existence. Pray for Jewish children risking their lives to protect ours. And while we yearn for mercy for all G-d's creation and desperately seek the means to end all oppression and suffering, we need to see every Jew as family. No one could ever fault a relative for grieving his loss more than a stranger would. So too the Jewish people are family. Not simply by name, lineage, politics, socialism, or even "blood". But rather by a connection of spirit which transcends all physical limitation and can truly be something one feels no different from his hand. This is what I implore people to think about and develop. Avraham prophetically points to the final trials we will face. The trial with Ishmael will bring us to a recognition that the Jewish people are one, each to the other like a father to son. There will be a test there too. But first things first.

Know your strengths. Be the blessing Jacob would have given you.

Good Shabbos,

Rabbi Lynn

January 2, 2009

I heard it with my own ears. Someone remembered that 27 years ago, the Kloisenberger Rebbe gave a talk and mentioned something about Jews in India, dying "al kiddush Hashem" (sanctification of God's name, ie martyrdom). The recording was uploaded to digital and made the rounds - it was broken, scratchy and the Yiddish was very hard to discern, but then right there in the middle he said it. In the times before the Moshiach, the entire world will be brought to an understanding of the Jew through a series of events and even the far reaching places filled with throngs of people completely unfamiliar with the Jew (even by negative association) will be enlightened when one Jew in India is killed "al kiddush Hashem". I know messianic talk is an uncomfortable subject for most Jews - either it smacks too much of christianity or rings of apocalyptic fanaticism - but like it or not it is a central part of normative Judaism. Much like the patriarchs, Moses, the prophets, etc. who grace the annals of Jewish history, there will be an emissary of God, a king to the Jewish people, who will usher in an era called Geulah, or redemption. What this looks like exactly is not our subject here, but in some ways nothing we recognize will remain the same and yet in others nothing will be different other than a sovereign theocracy under this King and God's Torah. Necessarily, Jewish "philosophy" as it were must assume an ultimate state of perfection in sync with the perfection of the Creator, where all becomes revealed - every question answered, every lion with every lamb, and the spiritual truth of existence as clear as day. Our tradition teaches that the span of time before Moshiach will not exceed 6000 years and the redemption can come anytime before. This year is 5769.

What we don't do, however, is purchase megaphones, placards and soap boxes, crowd around times square pronouncing the end is nigh. Nor do we sit around our ancient texts wringing our hands with cacophonous laughter at the coming cataclysms. And yet, our Sages have elucidated for us much of what seems to playing before our very eyes - and the more I read and hear, the more accurate it becomes, and the more the world seems to be following a script that, although I may know the ending, is wondrously weaving its way there with no shortage of surprises and captivating brilliance. The great Rabbi Akiva was remembered to have "laughed" at the sight of Jerusalem's destruction because if the words of the prophets came true in this was with such perfection, then surely their words of redemption and Divine unity will likewise come to fruition. When our Sages, our Righteous predict and foretell and our own eyes bear witness, we're meant to strengthen our resolve, embolden our faith, take our own thoughts and deeds more seriously, and prepare for the battles we'll most likely face - both national and personal.

The Koisenberger Rebbe was the young scion of Sanzer Chassidim. He rose to meteoric heights of spiritual purity and Talmudic brilliance, leadership and vision. He lost his wife and 11 children in the Holocaust, remarried afterwards and bore 7 more, and somewhere in between survived the most horrendous conditions while still shepherding his flock, the Jewish people. He was renowned for leading the Jews in the DP camps, and for rebuilding Torah Judaism and his own Chassidus both in American and Israel after the war, and for asking General Eisenhower to fetch him a lulav and etrog from Italy for the Succot immediately following liberation. When a man of such sacrifice and stature, with such an unbounded love for God and His people, looks into the future, he doesn't prophesize, per se, but he'll intuit the ways of the Almighty much like a parent intuits the thoughts of the child she knows and loves so well.

A Maimonides alum purchased for us a Megilas Ester for Purim online that was printed in Munich right after the war under the American Vaad Hatzala (salvation committee) as a gift to "the Shaaris HaPlaytah", the holy remnants of the Jewish people. This was the Kloisenberger Rebbe's community/congregation. This may have even been held by him (the thought of whose hands caressed these pages sends a chill every time). The Megilah and Purim both tell the story "behind the scenes". Everything on the outside seemed bleak and God-less. And yet in the heart of the darkness, in the depth of the "abandonment", God was lurking in every detail, every second and every turn. Every community will read this Shabbat the story of Joseph where ultimately he reveals himself to his brothers not as one sold into slavery but rather the viceroy of Egypt and savior of their fate. The Megilah tells a similar story. The Kloisenberger Rebbe lived such a story himself, and could see with prophetic intuition the unfolding of yet another such tale. We seem to be the players as the scenes unfold.

Wishing you a very lovely Shabbos,

Rabbi Lynn

December 26, 2008

Everything goes after the beginning. So in English this statement may seem simply chronological, and thus utterly obvious. But in its original (Hebrew, of course) it is utterly profound. "After" really means in line with, or as a result of, or is only a continuation of... Basically, the point of inception - its quality and profundity - is what defines everything that follows, and all that follows will only serve as a connection to that time. Take a marriage - the point of commitment woven with heart strings of love, exhilaration, hope, immortality, unbroken commitment and oneness - all these combined with a confidence instilled through purity, honesty and even Divinity can directly determine the heights and ceiling of accomplishment of the two unnamed dreamers. And every great step along the path of their life together will be a testament and a revelation, an expression and an offspring of the very point of commencement. In fact, the Talmud teaches that the secret of great Jewish marriages lies in the ability to recreate the feelings of one's chuppah again and again for years to come.

Now, in every great beginning their lies a heart-pounding excitement (if the marriage analogy doesn't work, try an Olympic downhill skier as he approaches the starting gate - got it?) and a spiritual awakening that happens very infrequently in life. It's so powerful, so remarkable that you could chronicle the days and years of your life by their number. These beginnings are the key, and remembering them is only a function of reliving them. Most people remember the "good ole times" in spite of their present existence. Shame. We Jews seek to remember our beginnings by living them and connecting everything we do now to its point of inception. From here we derive more power, permanence, spirituality, strength and perseverance than has ever been displayed by any other nation for sure.

The Greeks came to "make us forget God's Torah". That was their objective, and all their decrees were mere strategies. How do you cause someone to foget. Take the wind out of their sails in that very area. Don't underestimate the Greeks, they were quite intelligent. They knew the only way to neutralize the Jews was to cut them off from their source - to separate them from their beginnings; not only were we to disconnect from our national inception at Mount Sinai, but every additional expression of newness was to be eradicated. They specifically prohibited Rosh Chodesh (the New Month festival) where time is sanctified and the month (chodesh) begins anew (chadash), Bris Milah, Shabbos (the beginning of every week where our breathe is drawn and our lungs rejuvenated), the Tamid offering (the daily start of Divine service), and of course Torah learning, the most blatant connection to the Sinai experience where God spoke and every word of subsequent Torah learning is merely a continuation of that very dialogue. The Greeks even went so far as to abduct every betrothed (and yet unwed) Jewish maiden lest her "beginning" be pure. This was not a decree of licentiousness, but rather a dagger in the heart of the most Jewish institution. Every beginning was soured, soiled, spoiled and utterly annihilated.

If you cut us off from Sinai, if you take away the phoenix-like power of rejuvenation that permeates the entire Jewish experience, then we are truly a nation under siege.

This Shabbos is not only the Shabbos of Hanukah, but also Rosh Chodesh, the first of the month of Teves. There is no greater moment in the calendar that screams victory from the rooftops than this. We stand atop the ashes of every nation that's sought our destruction and continue to bring light into the world where our enemies have left nothing but darkness as their memory. But a victory dance in and of itself is useless unless we live precisely in the manner which aroused their hatred. We connect. We connect the dots, the seconds of 3,500 years of Jewish history to an unshakable commitment to its future. And we commit to renew again and again the Divine seed of our existence through every portal the world offers - time and space, thought and deed.

Take a moment to reflect. And another to connect. And one more, if you can spare it, to begin again.

Good Shabbos, Good Chodesh and a very freilechen (Yiddish word for the day meaning joyous) Hanukah.

Rabbi Lynn

December 12, 2008

Something's not right. The economy's in the gutter, and while there might be 'hope' coming to Pennsylvania Ave, dispair's marked its territory loud and clear. We're meant to be cautious. Somewhat tight-fisted. At the very least, sensible. And yet, in the most brazen bout of desperation, we're bombarded by consumerism the likes I've never seen. You would think this coming xmas would be the very last time an ipod or izod or anything at all would ever be offered, ever again! Buy buy buy buy - don't they have any mercy? Any selflessness? I feel like the amount of materialism in America has become cancerous - reproducing and taking up space where there's no room left to breath. Who will defend sanctity? Where are the warriors of purity? How hard is it really to stop and think, divest and dream, leave room for simplicity so our thoughts can lead the way. Purity of mind. Sanctity of deed. These are ideas so gruesomely devoured by the targets and walmarts and the like.

In this week's Parsha, Vayishlach, the Torah recounts the total slaughter of the city of Shchem by the brothers Shimon and Levi. While black friday usually witnesses the slaughter of one's neighbor for the last cabbage patch kid or wifi on the shelf at next-to-nothing prices, Shimon and Levi carried out their revenge after the complicit city wide abduction and defilement of their sister, Dina. With Shchem's appetite for Jewish daughters whetted, they agreed to undergo unanimous circumcision to enter into the "tribe" and continue their ways. Shimon and Levi proposed the deal, and on the third day following, where every male was in the weakest state after the procedure, they single-handedly wiped out every one of them. The Klausenberger Rebbe, a survivor of the Holocaust in his own right, was purported to have said in the DP camps afterwards that Shimon and Levi knew that by circumcising all of Shchem, they would be considered internationally as Jews, and no one blinks an eye when Jews are being killed.

On a final and more uplifting note, Rabbi Yaakov Kaminetzky writes that while Jacob chastised the brothers, he merely addressed their anger. It should be watched and controlled as its potential for wrongdoing is tremendous. But its potential for right-doing is equally relevant. He didn't condemn their actions vis a vis Shchem, just cautioned their natural proclivity for revenge. However, let it be known that no one else was prepared or courageous enough to respond to the defilement of Jacob's daughter with uncompromised commitment to the purity and holiness of the Jewish people. In this Shimon and Levi had no equal. As our tradition teaches, Jacob, and for that matter G-d Himself, appointed them with the most treasured guardianship of the most crucial Jewish undertakings. Levi was elevated to the tribe of priests from which the Cohanim would descend, the appointed tribe of Torah scholars, and the guardians and servants of the Holy Tabernacle/Temple and all of its music, service and vessels. He could be counted on to suffer no infraction of holiness or purity. Nothing un-Godly could ever be tolerated. Likewise, the tribe of Shimon was entrusted with the holiest of holies - the sanctum sanctorum of the Jewish people - our children. Where un-Godliness, impurity and profanity can never, never creep, is amongst our children's education. They are the teachers, the purveyors of generational transmission and responsibility. They have proven themselves to defend righteousness and purity with their lives. They were thus asked to continue where it counts.

Wishing you a wonderful shabbos,

Rabbi Lynn (proud member of the tribe of Levi)

December 4, 2008

Jacob's dream. Jacob's ladder. Images from our childhood Hebrew-school days, or a Chagall. Angels ascending. Angels descending. The scuffle of twelve stones battling to be his pillow. The bliss of their morphing into one. All of existence unified in purpose - to serve and envelope, comfort and praise the father of the Jewish people. Jacob's surprise at arriving here, at The Place - the central point of all creation - is attributed to kfitzas haderech, the miraculous folding of the earth, like an accordion, under the feet of the righteous lest he experience any delay in reaching his destination. The world bends, bows, kneels and submits to the core of Jewish existence. The soul of the Jewish people knows no subjugation to this-worldly endeavors, but rather just the opposite is true. There is no mother nature with which to contend. The physical laws of creation will gladly concede to the spiritual arrival of truth and oneness.

As the days of Chanukah approach, the smells and anxieties of an age-old war against the Jew resonates from its latest stop in Mumbai. The Greeks lay claim to one such stop as well. The darkness they brought upon the Jewish people can still be felt today, even well after their flame's estinguished - no shred of power, intellect, philosophy, prowess, beauty or importance can be attached to present day Greece. It is less than a shell of what it was. And yet, there once raged a mighty battle. Historians will know it was not so much mighty in number and noise, but mighty it surely was.

The Talmud tells of an encounter between Alexander the Great of Macedon, and Shimon the Righteous, the high-priest. Many years before the onslaught of Nazi-esque decrees and outright aggression, Alexander was entreated by the Kutim to raze the Jewish temple to the ground. Shimon HaTzaddik donned his priestly vestments, and came out of Jerusalem to greet the formidable army. Alexander immediately dismounted and prostrated himself, and among the gasps of his own men, explained that since his youth, the vision of this Righteous Jew went before him in battle. The season of miracles was beginning to take root. The Greeks eventually created every decree they could think of to divorce the Jewish people from spiritual connection: they defiled our daughters' purity (on the night of their wedding - by official decree), they banned any Torah learning or teaching, all doors must remain open lest one mitzvah be performed, they broke through the barriers of separation around the Temple (not a physical slight, a supremely spiritual slight), prohibited the daily offerings, and ultimately destroyed the Menorah and contaminated all its oil. Jews were even meant to parade their cattle through the streets having written on the horns, "we have no place in the God of Israel." Nothing truly spiritual could exist in Greece. Only Man, only nature. To them they were one and the same. There is no darkness darker than this.

Our story, the story of Jacob, tells a very different tale. We live above and beyond the parameters of nature. As God created its laws, He also created their suspension. When we merit, we rise above the world and raise it up as well. When we don't, we, more than any other nation or creation, will be swallowed whole by its wrath. The designs of people whose dreams and spiritual rewards are no more than hedonistic physical indulgences of deflowering and conquering are once again set on targeting the Jew. The Greeks, Romans, Third Reich and many more have and will continue to mobilize their entire machinery - every ounce of energy, every penny, every person - to rid the world of the one Jew, sitting in the safety and silence of his own home, learning Torah, doing Mitzvot, and testifying to the Oneness of existence and sublime perfection of a kind, vengeful, just, omniscient, omnipotent and perfect God. May we be the lights that push away the darkness. May we find amidst the destruction of goodness, the reservoir of oil within. And may we merit the flame and Divine intervention to take what little oil we have to heights unimagined by mother nature and mortal man.

Good Shabbos,

Rabbi Lynn

November 28, 2008

I am truly heartbroken. We're just receiving reports now, which will be public soon I'm sure, that our worst fears will be realized. Great emissaries of the Jewish people, whose sacrifice and commitment have been, should be, and will forever be an inspiration to us all, have joined the long list of Jews who have given their lives as Jews. We would think a list that long would lose its personal significance, but we underestimate the kindness of the Almighty. Kindness? In light of everything happening right now, we speak of kindness? The answer that distinguishes us Jews from every thing else in the world is "yes". Kindness and true thanksgiving for His kindness as well - despite how hidden it seems. Amidst all the powers of intellect and philosophy we can muster, in the heart of the tears and the pain, a Jew can still speak of God's kindness. It's almost unthinkable, but we do. God created the same physiology for sadness and euphoria - tears. Tears block out the world, because at such moments only the soul understands - the outside world can't hold a candle to the world of the soul. God willing, what we access and experience today through sadness will one day become the same in joy.

In this week's Torah portion we witness the seeds of Jacob's battle with Esau; Isaacs blessing - that which he received from his father who received it directly from God - will only be won through pain, suffering, deception (which really means deceiving the physical world of it's superficiality - perhaps the most painful job), patience, faith and perseverance will this blessing take root and hold. The powers of physical dominance and worldly prowess found in Esau will be the very barriers we face - and Esau lives by his sword, the Torah teaches. Today we feel the sword so heavily. While there are too many reasons to shed tears these days, the Jews whose lives have been taken today, Rabbi Gavriel Holtzberg and his holy wife Rivka, are bringing real tears of a different sort. Not only are these Jews family, they've gone to the ends of the earth to look after the wayward and wandering Jew - true shepherds of the Almighty's flock. The heart of the Jewish people is being hit hard from all sides.

A chabad house, and I have every reason to believe this one as much as any other, if not more, is a house of chesed - kindness. It takes nothing other that what it needs to give. Like a fire which laps at all things dry, physical, woody and spiritless, it has the power to unleash every ounce of energy within. A chair becomes an emblazoned inferno of heat, force and energy - feeding the output and giving light. Whether the IDF can still, or ever could, come to the aid of any Jew anywhere is certainly becoming less and less feasible. But the collective conscience of every Jew from Topeka to Timbuktu, Nebraska to Nepal, should rest an extra wink of spiritual comfort knowing someone will be looking out for them. The Holzberg's tenure is through. But the fire with which they lived and the spirit left behind will give us a warmth and a light to lead us to redemption. I never knew them. But I miss them already.

May God grant us safety in these very dangerous times.

Rabbi Lynn

November 21, 2008

Have you ever seen a ches up close? What's a ches? One of these: ח in Hebrew. This one doesn't do it justice because the one I'm really looking for is the Torah one (that font has escaped the standard Word collection). In the Torah, the ches is written with two zions ז ז attached with a tiny chuppah on top (a wedding canopy). Chuppah begins with a ches. The Chuppah makes the ches. A Chuppah is a ches. You see, zion is the seventh letter of the aleph beis. Seven always represents completion in the physical realm - six sides/dimensions to everything corporeal and the seventh dimension correlates to its spiritual source/purpose. For example, a table is the wood in the physical -6- and its use in the spiritual -7. Ches is the eighth letter. The next dimension. That which connects the seven to its spiritual mirror image above. Seven is the spiritual manifest in the physical. Eight is spiritual at its source.

A Chuppah, a Jewish wedding, enjoins two complete and separate entities (man and woman who are physically mature and spiritually whole - if you're not sure of either of those qualifications, see me another time). Miraculously - meaning beyond the laws of nature - they become one, and that "one" is greater than the sum total of its parts, well beyond what either could ever have achieved independently. "One" becomes doubled. Two "sevens" turn to eight - above and beyond the limits of the natural order. This week's Torah portion overflows with ches.

Abraham mourns his beloved Sarah, purchases from the people of CHES the Kever Hamachpaylah (the "doubled cave", otherwise known as the Tomb of the Patriarchs in the heavily contested Hebron) where she is to be buried, and in turn sets the stage for other couples as well, (as it happens, Adam and Eve were already there) Isaac and Rivka, Jacob and Leah. Quite the romantic resting place, no?

The Torah then turns to the journey of Eliezer, Abraham's trusted servant entrusted with finding a wife for Isaac. Rivka's kindness and flawlessness of character win her the role with miraculous fanfare, and Isaac is thus consoled from the death of his mother. A new Ches is born, in place of the old. The Chuppah of the Jewish people continues its legacy intact.

The Cave itself represents more doubling, more "ches". It was the place towards which our patriarchs and matriarchs prayed. It was there where they calibrated their physical existence with their spiritual source. Each of us has an eighth dimension - a purely spiritual "double" which never tars from our physical blemishes. It lays above us in perfection, representing ourselves having achieved 100% of our spiritual potential. Those who achieved their own perfection and simultaneously their marital perfection are forever entombed beneath the earth of the "doubling cave".

Those of us still on the journey can draw strength from its inhabitants and can calibrate our own lives with our spiritual double. We can strive for our own fluid synthesis of body and soul, and hope to find refuge in a marriage of similar caliber, where we finally stand the chance of catapulting ourselves towards transcendence and purpose of being. It ain't easy, I know. But a valiant effort will be well rewarded, and to not try is a crying shame.

Good Shabbos,
Rabbi Lynn

November 14, 2008

A few years ago during the intifada, the tragedy which seemed to trump all others occurred. Dr. David Applebaum and his daughter, Nava, we killed by a suicide bomber in a Jerusalem café, as they stole a few moments together over coffee the night before her wedding. Her fiancé is someone I know. We lived in his building in Har Nof. They were 'sweethearts' since childhood. Her wedding dress adorned his wall, amidst the tapestry of photos hiding any trace of anything else, until it was recently moved to the holy burial site of our matriarch, Rachel. David Applebaum, a pious, brilliant, learned Jew and doctor - famous in Israel for having revolutionized emergency room/trauma medicine and himself the head of Sharei Tzedek Hospital - was as righteous and beautiful a person as you could find. A student of the great Yeshivos of Brisk. I can still remember the clock standing still when I heard their names over the radio.

An outrage. Anger at God. How could He? Not like this! Not them! I remember an article published by a colleague of his who bore his existential and philosophical crisis to the public. "We must protest to the Almighty, for when the Almighty does wrong, it is incumbent upon us to rebuke", he cried. And his proof - Abraham arguing with God over the destruction of Sodom, which we will be reading this Shabbos. Abraham, though with great humility and caution, "argued" the Almighty down from 50 to 10, the number of "righteous" that could thus save the entire city from destruction. While the ten were never found and the city destroyed, Abraham's stance was successful. However, this columnist raised the following question himself, "Why didn't Abraham protest when asked to sacrifice his only son?" He left it unanswered.

Rav Naftoli Tzvi Berlin answers the question very poignantly. Before the Almighty announces His plan to destroy Sodom, He pontificates, as it were, and asks rhetorically, "Should I hide my ways from Abraham?" As if to say, "If he's meant to be the father of the Jewish nation, he must learn how I work in the world." And what follows is not at all an argument, but rather an intimate lesson on understanding the parameters of God's judgment and providence. This is born out very clearly in the verses. However, by the Akeida (the binding of Isaac, also found in this week's Torah reading), there was no such discourse, but rather a call to action. In my own humble opinion, were Abraham not to have been beckoned to probe and understand the Almighty's ways, he may not have had the resolve and conviction required to stand the greatest test of all. Protest, we don't. Accomplish, we do. Learn, we must. Anger? It's often an understandable reaction. But to understand and internalize God's ways, this is most critical of all. All we have to do then is live it.

We question to understand, to strengthen our resolve. And we stay steadfastly committed to carrying it out.

Good Shabbos,

Rabbi Lynn

November 6, 2008

There's a very strange occurrence in this week's Torah portion, לך לך, which describes the first war recorded in the Bible. While the details of each nation and its ruler and the ins and outs of the battles are themselves fascinating, the Torah clearly describes the end of the battle, pillaging of spoils, and the "departure" of the marauding, victorious army. Then, in the very next verse, it says, "and they captured Lot and his possessions - Abraham's nephew - and they left." But they had already "departed"? Why did they come back? Why weren't the victory and the spoils enough to have justified the war? What did they want with Lot?

The word for war in Hebrew is milchomah, מלחמה, which really means - to make bread. People fight for sustenance and survival. One may think it's merely physical, but underneath, the true threat is spiritual. The first recorded war focused on capturing Lot, Abraham's nephew. The Sages tell us Lot was made of the mettle of Moshiach - the redeemer: he had the essential mix of spiritual connection (through Abraham) and this-wordly prowess (as evidenced by his subsequent political positions in Sodom) - the ultimate vehicle through which this world and that world connect. He represented God's revelation of the spiritual truths of God's world - a direct affront to the pagan nations who battled for dominance. Their temporary conquest was incomplete with mere territorial victory and excess wealth. They came back for Lot. At this stage, Abraham entered the war and single-handedly turned the tide, returning Lot once again to his family.

You see, they fought a war confused as to why they were truly fighting. The wars being fought today are likewise confused. What we do see, however, is that the concept of conventional war is dead and gone. The physical manifestations of the wars being waged, namely terrorism, are deeply indicative of their spiritual qualities. In this same Torah portion, Ishmael, the patriarch and embodiment of our Arabic cousins, is named and born, in that order. A tanaic collection called Pirkei D'Rebbe Eliezar, written some 1500 years ago, describes in detail the meaning behind five people who were named by God before their birth (and then "coincidentally" given that name by the parents). Ishmael, ישמעאל, technically means, "God will hear", and is explained as follows: In the end of days, God will hear the cries of the children of Israel at the hand of the children of Ishmael. The traditional and historical approach to the battle with Ishmael is deeply spiritual at its core. They surely think so and it could only help if we ventured to see it that way as well. The wars we wage and will unfortunately continue to wage will not be merely about territory or settling old grudges, but about spiritual dominance and truth.

Wishing you all a wonderful Shabbos,
Rabbi Lynn

October 31, 2008

Six months later, I still can't shake the feeling. After our spring break journey to Poland and Prague, it's hardly diminished; rather it permeates my entire existence. Everywhere I go, everything I see, and most certainly every expression of my Judaism can be viewed through the filter of that experience. I would say I feel like a survivor, without having experienced it - obviously I lack the essential component, but I'm deeply affected nonetheless. I suppose the difference is that I choose to see things in this light. I look for opportunities to experience everything in this hue, mostly voluntarily, but often not. Paradoxically, I'm consistently empowered to cherish, or rather devour life, the more I allow the darkness to take hold. I feel it's my duty. To honor their memory and to choose life.

Our common ancestor, Noah, of Great Flood fame, couldn't bring himself to live again. The Almighty coaxes and coaxes him out of the Ark, practically begging and promising the world, to get Noah to rebuild, to grasp life. But, alas, he cannot. While he was the life-giving force for every animal in existence, feeding each according to its diet and time, never resting a moment (even the slightest tardiness lost him a finger by lion), he could not rise to the challenge and grasp it himself. He died a broken man, a survivor who could not shake his past. What he saw of mankind and its destruction was too much to reconfigure into a life-affirming existence. He begins the story as a "Man of Righteousness" and ends as simply a "Man of the Ground" - base, reduced to merely his potential, void of its realization.

Is there a pot of gold at the end of the rainbow? As we know, the rainbow is the remnant of Noah's deal with God that the world would never again meet the same fate. We're reminded by its colorful array that perhaps the world is not so deserving of life, and yet His infinity mercy mediates any subsequent judgment. I would suggest, however, that we have a calling, a response - an opportunity, as a result. We can cling to life. We can learn how to live, to be alive, and then chase after it with every morsel of strength. To recognize by what standards, which currencies can life really be measured? Money or smiles? Honor or humility? Selfishness or kindness? Active or inactive? Friendship or loneliness? The Torah gives us insight after insight, and opportunity after opportunity. If only we Jews could properly appreciate the power of a mizvoh - even those without a "beneficiary", just because we're Jews. Being a Jew is being alive, living the Torah is called living. This was for me the most profound lesson of our trip. This is where we became resurrected as a people, even in the heart of the camps. Herein lies the pot of gold.

Good Shabbos,
Rabbi "leprechaun" Lynn

October 24, 2008

"In the beginning..."
The great historian Paul Johnson wrote in 1987, "It is significant that the first chapter of Genesis, unlike any other cosmogony of antiquity, fits perfectly well, in essence, with modern scientific explanations of the origin of the universe, not least the 'Big Bang' theory." Dr. Stephen Hawking, Cambridge University's famous astrophysicist noted, "Many people do not like the idea that time has a beginning, probably because it smacks of Divine intervention." And Dr. Robert Jastrow, the director of the NASA's Goddard Center for Space Studies, wrote in the New York Times:
This is an exceedingly strange development, unexpected by all but the theologians. They have always accepted the word of the Bible: In the beginning God created heaven and earth... For the scientist who has lived by his faith in the power of reason, the story ends like a bad dream. He has scaled the mountains of ignorance; he is about to conquer the highest peak; as he pulls himself over the final rock, he is greeted by a band of theologians who have been sitting there for centuries.
I would, as always, like to suggest you exhaust your scientific research not one iota short of complete intellectual and scientific satisfaction because in today's world, that can truly be found. The physical sciences and Torah (not the simple, evangelical reading of it, but rather the reading espoused by our illustrious sages and talmudic history) can live together in holy matrimony - two sides of the same coin. What I strongly suggest, however, is that once one's research is done, this coin gets flipped the right way around - and stays there.

The Torah is not a history book, nor a science manual, but rather God's instruction (as the word "torah" means in hebrew, like "morah", teacher). Rabbi Shimshon Raphael Hirsch wrote that theology is man's study of God, Torah is God's study of man. In fact, on a much deeper level, the Torah is the blueprint of creation - literally. When placed before the great movie projector in the sky, the Torah projects a created world beyond all concepts of time and space where the world is the silver screen, and we are the stars. From God's eye, the Torah recounts the heartbeats of creation - not a construct of atoms and molecules, astrophysics and cosmology, but a reflection of spiritual truth and oneness made manifest in a physical reality. The metrics of metaphysics. The Torah would do more to explain why you have ten fingers and toes than to outline the laws of nature.

This is the other side of the coin, without which we will never rise from grit and grime of mother nature. And while down here we're made of the same stuff as your ipod and monchichi pet, up there we're a gazillion miles away. Your soul puts you in a class by yourself, close as can be to God Himself, and that makes you the center of the whole shebang. The Talmud says each of us must teach ourselves to say, "for me the entire world was created." We need to teach ourselves either because we're incredibly humble, or cripplingly insecure, or more to the point stuck on this side of things and not yet truly aware of what's really going on. "In the beginning..." is a great place to start.

Good Shabbos

October 17, 2008

I've got some sobering news. Breaking the glass under the chuppah - it's not a cue for "mazel tov", nor even to strike up the band, or even yet a wake-up alarm after the Rabbi's pre-fab wedding speech. It's a remembrance of the Temple's destruction. That great place of such joy and pride, such spiritual clarity and perfection (did you know there were ten constant miracles - suspensions of the natural order - for over seven hundred years of recorded history), that symbol of our oneness with the Almighty and hope for a perfected word, to this House of God do we mourn, do we yearn. The Wall in Jerusalem speaks of this loss and is the one place every Jewish soul can pour itself out. But what a downer, right? On such an occasion as your wedding, specifically the final moments of infinite commitment and immortal connection? One might say we need to quell our euphoria while the Jewish people dwell in exile (yes, even living in Jerusalem it's a far far far cry from what it should be), true. But more deeply, we sense the urgency for a great marriage and realize to which end we will guide and build our families and homes. Which is the void that needs our filling.
This Shabbos, the one that falls within the holiday of Sukkot, will bring with it a reading of King Solomon's Kohelet and the famous exhortation, "There's nothing new under the sun." The man who had it all - the wisest, richest, most powerful - spills much precious ink to rid our minds and hearts of all things empty, vain and transparent, and begs us to realize pursue everlasting truth. And this we read on Sukkkot, amidst the splendor and joy of the harvest, of the myriad of Mitzvos, the purity of atonement, the bounty of blessing, and our dwelling in the Sukkah under God's shade and protection. Our Sages have affectionately dubbed Sukkot 'the time of our simcha' and created and encouraged unparalleled festivities - those same Sages decreed we read Kohelet smack in the middle. Again, not simply to dampen our simcha (why, the Sages decreed the first 'rave' - a week long festival in the Temple called Simcha Beis HaShoevah), but rather to harness the atomic power of simcha and channel it properly.

The Sukkah is the chuppah of the Jewish people. It serves as the dna, so to speak, of our marriage with God. The Jew loathes the spiritual tryst and thirsts for the romance, longevity and life-giving ends of total oneness. God created marriage to teach us this truth. And spiritual debauchery will go the same way as tattered and unsuccessful marriages have gone themselves. A Jew uses the heights of simcha, happiness, to ridicule the physical, roast it for all its temporal muck, and catapult himself into the realms of spiritual being. We eat, drink, sing, dance, sleep, marry - every physical sense there is - in or around the sukkah, at precisely this time of year, only to ignite that colossal reservoir of fuel in one giant explosion of spiritual greatness.

Wishing you oodles and oodles of Simcha and Blessing,

Rabbi Lynn

October 10, 2008

There are three things we do right after Yom Kippur: we eat, wish everyone we can a good year (a gut yahr, or shana tova), and then we head outdoors to build the sukkah. I'll get back to that last part in a moment, but first an observation...

During Neilah last night, Jews around the globe, and especially on the east coast, were raising their voices (that's a nice way of putting it - in my shul we were screaming our heads off) as the gates of heaven closed for the day. We were praying and crying and wailing "Avinu Malkeinu" and Shma in the hopes of real Tchuvah (repentance) and a come-from-behind last ditch effort to seal our fate for the good and wipe the slate clean.

At the very same moment, a mere 12 miles away from my seat at the Philadelphia Yeshiva were 40,000 screaming Phillies fans waving their white towels (rally flags) as the come-back kids of Philly took on the Dodgers in the NCLS pennant race (and won). Think of it from God's perspective - two camps of screaming lunatics, rallying for a post-season victory. One hailing God's oneness and seeking forgiveness, the other yelling "rah!' (which incidentally means ''evil" in Hebrew). Let's hope the Phillies' win was a sign for the whole city.

Back to the Sukkah. So we've presented our plan for the coming year on Rosh Hashana and orchestrated a coronation ceremony that outdoes a Hollywood Elizabethan set design, we've spent ten days auditing our naughty and nice lists, and finally a Yom Kippur of heart-wrenching atonement and tears. Now what? Now we have to put our money where our mouth is, or rather put it all to the test. The head and heart are on board - now to the body. The Mitzvoh right after Yom Kippur is to build the Sukkah. Here comes a holiday where the whole experience is physical. The Mitzvoh is really just to live in the Sukkah - eat, sleep, drink, breathe - whatever one does, he does it in the Sukkah. Our home becomes a flimsy, temporary dwelling which cannot on its own stand strong without Divine support. And that's precisely where we put ourselves. If we believe in everything we've done until now, the only place we should want to live is with the Almighty. The schach (okay, there's really no way in English to make this Hebrew word happen - try both "ch"s as guttural and you'll be halfway there), or the palm frond roof, is called in Kabbalistic writings the Tzaila D'hemnusa - the Shade of Faith. We leave the brilliance of Rosh Hashahah and Yom Kippur by leaving our homes which feign stability and human accomplishment and live as one with the real Master of Ceremony.

If there's one message we're getting clear these days - it's that nothing you thought was stable truly is, especially the value of your home (who knows, at the rate mortgages are crumbling and the markets nosedive we may all be living permanently in straw huts). Jews live in their Sukkah for an entire week, just long enough that when you return to your home, you're basically still living in the Sukkah. You've been acclimated to a Divine existence and try very hard not to loose sight of it until next year. This summer we took students on a trip the Kruger part in South Africa for a week of Torah and the big five. During spring break we visit Poland and Prague. One thing's for sure - what they have in common is a total inability to re-acclimate to normal American living. Until it wears off. So too Sukkot, except we have many ways to keep it going. My family used to play a game after Yom Kippur growing up (wasn't the most religious household then) - who will sin last. Since we were all brothers, it usually flipped itself around and became who can sin first. But that's because we didn't have a Sukkah to go to. Try to make your spiritual achievements of Yom Kippur really count. Live them. Infuse your very being with them. Eat, sleep and drink them if you can. If you need a Sukkah's help, and we all do, we'll be happy to help you find one (ours is always open)! Have a lovely Chag (another guttural "ch" please)

Good Shabbos and Chag sameach,
Rabbi Lynn

October 3

The Days of Awe:

There's a famous case illustrated in the Talmud of a superbly non-pious man who marries a woman on condition that he is righteous. The Rabbis insist that we must proceed as if the marriage was binding in Heaven, because no matter how wayward a person may be, it only takes one momentary thought of regret or repentance to change one's status from wicked to righteous. Therefore, it's entirely possible that despite all his actions to the contrary, at that point in time he may, in fact, have become truly righteous, with a Divine stamp of approval, thereby rendering the marriage valid. With only one tiny hint of Teshuvah (repentance)?

Maimonides, in his treatise on repentance (chapter 3), writes, "Just as one's merits and sins are weighed at death, so too are they every year for every person on Rosh Hashana. He who is found completely righteous is sealed for life, he who is found completely wicked is sealed for death, and the 'middle-ones' (all of us) await judgement until Yom Kippur - if they repent they are sealed for life, and if not, for death." What Maimonides doesn't leave as an option is for the middle-one to remain simply a middle-one. At the same time, the Arizal (the purveyor of the Kabbalistic tradition) writes that the day of Yom Kippur alone has the exalted spiritual status capable of sealing even a middle-one for life. Maimonides seems to require teshuvah (repentance) for the middle-one to become righteous, while the Arizal seems to ascribe the power to the day itself.

The discrepancy is rectified by viewing two sides of the same coin. It's ultimately the combination of Yom Kippur and the heartfelt, honest sentiment of teshuvah, which brings atonement. Maimonides doesn't leave any option for remaining in the middle because the nature of Yom Kippur is such that there is no other option; one who can truly muster up an earnest repentance - one who can tap into the spiritual truth and power of the day, one who is at the core sensitive enough to realize what's at stake - that person is called 'righteous'. And he, who, despite the reverence and power of Yom Kippur, cannot find within himself any residue of regret, is undeniably the opposite. Our tradition teaches that in the Almighty's kindness, Yom Kippur was created - a moment in time with atomic spiritual energy to wipe the slate clean, or rather re-create the already created. An opportunity to calibrate our being to His. A 26 hour period of spiritual pyrotechnics to pull us from our shells and draw us upward, to inspire us to great heights which can only be grasped from a heartfelt moment of lowness. We need to make the first move. We need to dig deep. There's no greater time.

Wishing you all a complete and good 'seal',

Rabbi Lynn

September 26

The Days of Awe:

Never quite sure what to feel. It always struck me as silly, my entire childhood, the ritual of intense brushing and flossing mere hours before the dentist appointment after a season or two of utter neglect. As if the hygienist's shock of, "wow, they're so clean, I can't understand how you could have gotten so many cavities" would be some kind of victory. I suppose the motions are still the same, just the tactics more subtle and the stakes much higher. And yet, perhaps it is to be expected, or even more so, appreciated.

As these days approach, even more quickly than last year it seems, we Jews prepare with a month of Elul and her shofar blasts, ten days of Slichot (added prayers of penitence and poetry), and then the sheer awe of the lead-up. I suppose we can learn from Olympic athletes; although their nerves must have been strung out to no end, the sheer awe and exuberance of the opening ceremonies was glorious, and also surprisingly charged by the very same nerves.

So too Rosh Hashanah - a day that brings with it the greatest coronation ceremony in the world. Jews around the globe, throughout the portals of time, stand with trepidation and euphoria to coronate the King and give glory to Him and His people. There's no repentance on Rosh Hashanah, although there's judgment. But I'll let you in on a secret - we're being judged on where and how we place the crown. The personal stuff comes later - first, the opening ceremony. Eat well, sing songs of royalty, feel as if you've conquered the world, and lay praise at the source of spiritual oneness. It is not surprising we begin to behave better the closer we come. A running start of righteousness, repentance and resilience are just the things we need to match the mission of the day.

That's why it's the Rosh - or head - of the year. And why it coincides with the birthday of Man. As the intellect clarifies our purpose, our existence, Rosh Hashanah is both the yardstick and the celebration all wrapped in one. We have a custom of Simonim - or signs/symbols - where we partake of a vast array of foods and turn their names into blessings. Head games. We've been playing with quantum mechanics for millennium: how you see it, that's how it really is! An apple and honey becomes a blessing for a sweet new year, a carrot for greater spiritual accomplishment, a pomegranate for fulfilling mitzvoth, and a whole slew of options for obliterating our enemies (we've always been quite clever in this department). At last, a lamb's head (or fish for the squeamish) to become the head and not the tail. Think about that. The more you do, the more you're the Rosh.

Be Ahead. Be Above. Be Beyond. Happy birthday.

Shana Tova,

Rabbi Lynn

September 19

Parshat Ki Savo, Deuteronomy, 5768

Imagine the scene. Waking up morning after morning, checking the crop to see when it's ripe enough to pick. Soon, you think - just another day - as your family decorates awaiting baskets with all the splendor they can muster. And then it comes, the first fruits of all your labor, sparkling in the morning dew as miraculous and beautiful as they are succulent and plentiful. You pick just a few, just enough. A basket full of them, of all your crops' first fruits, is loaded on the donkey and sent on the three day's journey to Jerusalem, with you in tow.

For three days you caravan and mingle with Jews from all corners, making their identical pilgrimage, and as the excitement builds your feet feel magnetically pulled towards the rising hills of the City of Gold. The density of travelers increases as you edge along. You can hear the dancing, the music, you can smell the incense and almost taste the offerings. And just above the next hill, it all becomes clear.

"Jerusalem, if I forget thee, let my right hand wither..." you whisper. Her splendor unwraps in front of you as you approach. The myriads of fruit-bearing pilgrims cover every stretch of visible earth, making their way into the Temple gates - it looks as if the whole world is being drawn inwards towards the Holy of Holies. "Ahhh, Jews," you think, "precious Jews whose only pleasure in life is the deepest expression of gratitude imaginable." Each Jew with his fruits, waiting with baited breath to bring them to the Cohen and declare his place in history amongst his people (yes, you'll have to present your basket with a scripted rendition of Jewish history, much like the Passover Seder). The magic combination is rightly a public demonstration of one's place in Jewish history, while sanctifying every second, minute, season or epoch with a transcendent array of first fruits. The choicest, finest and purest issue of God's earthly womb, brought back to him with sacrifice, determination, lengthy travels, and such welcomed euphoria.

As you hand your basket to the Cohen and witness its waving, you make the great Jewish testament to the most intimate and lucrative partnership imaginable. God gives, and you complete and return. But your fruits are only the beginning. Your life is infused with that same message - resounding through every endeavor and commitment you're prepared to take henceforth - what I've been given, I must return back complete and whole. Just as this week's Torah portion recounts this most spectacular of mitzvoth, it should also serve as inspiration in the coming days of Rosh Hashanah - days of renewal, of growth, of priorities, of completion, and ultimately of return.

Good Shabbos

September 12

Hello everyone and welcome to our newsletter. There's always a wonderful dance a Jew dances when confronted with technological advancements. The world moves forward, but certainly not further away. We hold dear to the fundamentals while carefully considering the new-found options. They serve as clothing, vehicles of expression, emissaries through which the core of Judaism can be manifest. King Solomon famously wrote there's nothing new under the sun. He had iPods in mind. For example the Torah is the same, and yet finds itself disseminated and utilized brilliantly (we hope) across the internet. The tenets of truth remain the same; it's our job to dress for success and carefully and excitedly bring it into the world. So again, welcome to our email newsletter.

This week's Torah portion addresses the realities, consequences and casualties of war. As the Jews prepared for a promised acquisition of Israel, they prepared for the inevitability of conflict. With total survival of the Jewish people at risk, we find in the Torah a surprising Mitzvah: a young man in his first year of marriage is off-limits. Not only is he beyond the draft, he's not allowed to focus any time or energy on the war effort - only on his marriage. It matters not that his very existence is at stake - that his father, brother and friends are risking life and limb - his job is a stroll in the park, a romantic dinner, scribbling down sweet nothings and falling further in love. Charming, no?

You'll find nowhere in the commentaries a notion of military strategy ("he's of no use to us - smitten beyond reproach") or sheer sentimentality ("aw, aren't they cute together"). Rather, the answer's quite simple; if there's no Jewish home (read marriage/oneness) being built, there's nothing worth fighting for. We do not defend borders alone, sovereignty, economic principle, or even existence as a goal in and of itself, but rather only as a means to maintain the Jewish mission. And that, my friends, is found most profoundly between husband and wife, within a faithful Jewish home. Herein lies the sanctuary of Jewish expression, practice, ideology and survival. During our trip to Poland, my wife and I both realized the seed of the horror lay in splitting the family. The Jewish spirit suffers no greater loss.

My dear, dear friend Naftoli Smolyanski, z'l, passed away tragically this month, suddenly and quite miraculously, leaving his wife of 10 years and 5 young children. She simply said they don't make husbands like him. He was truly a man worth a nation's battle. May this lesson be a merit for him and his family, and may we be inspired to seek out relationships with this vision and dream of a home in G-d's image. I long to make my dear friend proud.

Good Shabbos