Maimonides @ Penn

May 13, 2011-Parshat Behar

2011-05-19T21:22:00.000-04:00

"What's that got to do with the price of tea in china?" Did you know we Jews have an equivalent quip? The beginning of this week's Torah portion, Behar, inspired it; Mah inyan Shmittah etzel Har Sinai (what's the connection between Shmittah - the sabbatical year - and mt. Sinai)? This question comes as a response to the Torah portion's opening sequence where the intricate laws of the Sabbatical year are introduced with the prelude that God spoke to Moses on Mt. Sinai. Why is this point singled out here? The classic response teaches that not only were the broad outlines of God's will revealed at Mt. Sinai, but all the details of ALL the laws were articulated there as well, even if they are taught much later in the Torah.

As a very important side note, this commandment requires that the entire country lie fallow for one full year, and that God will provide three years worth of produce in the sixth year to cover year six, seven, and the first of the next cycle since no work was done during the seventh. This would be a preposterous claim for a human author to make if the Torah were not of Diving origin. In addition, there are no records of historical famine or breach of this remarkable unnatural occurrence that recurred every seven years for close to 1000 years of living in the land of Israel. Think about it.

As Penn segues into Graduation mode and the tents are staked securely into the earth (in anticipation of some heavy rains), there is a lesson here in the Torah that may shed some light on the deeper meaning of this colligate ceremony . The laws of Shmittah apply when we as Jews enter the land of Israel. And yet the Torah teaches us that their details were enumerated at Mt. Sinai. A time of information, gestation, and then practice. Graduation is really a transition from the theory to the practice, not merely a completion of one separate stage and the beginning of another. We'll sing tonight in Lecha Dodi, written in Tzfat by R' Shlomo Alkebitz some 500 years ago, sof maase v'machsheva techilah (God's action is the end, His thought/vision the beginning). We're meant to have thought, learned, contemplated and prepared. And now we celebrate the transition that makes those theoretics practical. Bringing things into the world of action is what makes us most Divine, what fuels our spiritual uniqueness of creativity.

But Shmittah teaches us something far more valuable. In the world of hard work - tilling the proverbial soil of life - it becomes very easy to forget God and His blessing and rely on our own might for sustenance. Shmittah reminds us that every 7 years, everything we have is a gift. A gift from God. We're His partner and do our share for 6 years, but on the 7th the relationship moves to a whole new level. As we enter into the 'real world', we cannot forget from where we come, why we're here, and Who is truly guiding our existence and rooting for our success. We Jews have been called the conscious of the world for this very reason. To be anchored in right vs. wrong, God's will, spiritual sanity and humility - these are the traits we stand for even amidst the deception and gruel of hard work.

To our graduates - we wish you spiritual success in life (with the requisite material grace you need to succeed).

Good Shabbos,

Rabbi Lynn

May 6, 2011- Parshat Emor

2011-05-19T21:21:00.000-04:00

"To everything, turn turn turn, there is a season, turn turn turn, and a time for every purpose under heaven."

One thing's for sure, when the Byrds wrote it, they didn't have Forest Gump in mind. And they most certainly didn't take their cue from this week's Torah portion either. But, as a fitting note to school's end and the very rare instance where the English language gets it right - commencement - the lessons gleaned from the Torah here are priceless. "These are the moadim..." Sorry, but I can't translate it. There's a word in Hebrew for time - zman, and festival - chag. But this one, moadim, is elusive (I've seen it translated as appointed festivals - whatever that means). Suffice it to say, this passage begins the detailed list of all the stations along the Main Line of the Jewish year. Come to think of it, "stations" is not a bad stab at what's really going on. A time for this, a time for that - no station repeats itself, and each is fundamentally necessary for the journey. Pesach, Shavous, Rosh HaShanah, Yom Kippur, Succos and some of the more "local" stops, Hannukah, Purim, Tu B'Shvat, Tu B'Av, Lag B'Omer, Tisha B'av and back again and again, turn turn turn.

Every end is always a beginning. Every measure of time is only that moment which necessarily connects the previous moment to the next. But there exists the option of steering each moment in any number of directions creating a continuum of either good or evil, right or wrong. "Time" means that it once began, and as certainly as it began, it mush finish. There is a goal to its creation, or it loses all reason to exist. Each moment along the way is either calibrated towards Time's intended end, or by definition most callously diverted. But there are stops along the way - stations and pit stops to "freshen up" - priceless opportunities to tap into the regiment of the human condition and well the depths of the spirit. No station's the same, and none is superfluous. Each has its own language, culture, nuance and message and is inextricably connected to the whole system which proudly presents itself a year later for revisitation. These are the "stations" that God gave the Jews - festivals of time and spirit and Divine awakenings.

Through a year, and back again, in and out of weeks, and back again... Some years we're at Penn, others not. But the "stations" are consistent and it's there where we'll measure up the muscle and maturity we garner through life. The Almighty created many different components of time - hours, days, weeks, months, seasons, years, generations - all which require understanding, definition, appreciation and dexterity. We progress in concentric circles, spiraling through life revisiting each and every station, but as a different being each and every time. May we all continue to grow and reach the milestones we're meant to reach, and may we have the good sense and fortune to recognize when we've actually met them.

A blessed beginning to all and a good summer,

Rabbi Lynn

April 16, 2011- Parshat Acharei Mot/Shabbat Hagadol

2011-05-19T20:55:00.003-04:00

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 too 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 catagories 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. We revisit and recreate anew this sublime sense of unity and belonging.

We'll sing next week Dayenu, and each stage of that treasured tune has remarkable merit - plagues, sea splitting, etc. But one line is troubling. "If you only brought us to Mt Sinai and not given us the Torah, it would have been enough." Really? What's the big deal of getting to Mt. Sinai if nothing were to happen? To this question I heard a wonderful answer. The Torah intimates that when we finally arrived at Mt. Sinai, we were so unified that we're described as "one being with one heart". Even without receiving the Torah, for the Jewish people to experience such unity and love, that too would have been enough.

Have a Chag Kasher v'Sameach - a beautiful holiday to all.

Rabbi Lynn

April 1, 2011-Tazriah

2011-04-15T00:15:00.001-04:00

I can't believe it's snowing. Big giant flakes of snow on April 1st. It's certainly the last snow we'll see for a while - I hope you stopped for a moment to marvel. I think it's quite fitting, however, that the snow-calendar has taken its cue from the Jewish calendar as we prepare to wrap up the leap year month of Adar (the 2nd). Our system of direct calibration of the solar and lunar cycles leads us every few years to stick in an extra month for good measure (literally), thus pushing Passover right back into the spring, where it belongs (that's how we know to calibrate, btw).

We leave winter with thoughts of spring. And for many of us, it's spring cleaning that makes the most noise. The mad dash to chase down every last spec of chometz - leavening - begins, and frankly turns us all into paranoid, ocd neurotics. Why the madness? Freedom. I suppose we could try a different tactic to prepare for Pesach; we could spend a few weeks shacked at the wrists and ankles in solitary confinement and then release just before the Seder. Thankfully, our Torah came up with an alternative. Chometz busting.

Why are we so hung up on it? Because most of the year, we're hung up on it - so much so that it rules our existence. What does it stand for? Why is it antithetical to freedom? It's the ego. It's physicality devoid of spiritual content. It's simply metaphysical hot air. It's what gets in the way of true freedom. Hedonistic indulgence and self indulgence (one and the same) are the hurdles we face every day and the chains that shackle more than our wrists and ankles. On Pesach night, we will have (should have) broken free. But not without a fight. Know the enemy well. Seek and destroy.

This week's torah portion chronicles all the laws of purity and impurity - very elusive subjects for us nowadays. However, the impurities we suffer from today are quite obvious and the Torah's call to sensitivity and purity should be a call to action. The freedom we seek is also equally elusive. It's not a freedom to do whatever we want whenever we want to - that's more the enemy's motto than ours. If we make a list of what we feel we should be, what we aspire to be, what we want our spouses, children, confidants and friends to think of us, we'll find it's full of sacrifice, hard work and determination. And the chometz of life stands in the way.

Ready, aim, fire.

Good Shabbos,

Rabbi Lynn

March 25, 2011- Shemini/Parah

2011-03-28T14:04:00.003-04:00

Our illustrious Sages decreed that we revisit four portions of the Torah specifically in the weeks preceding Passover. Of course, they expect far more spiritual and physical preparation than that, and let's face it, if we show up to Seder night without any prior thought or input, we'll stand very little chance of tapping into its timeless potential. But at the very least, on a communal level they wanted to hit home with four fundamental ideas. This Shabbos is host to one of them.

The great Phil Rizzuto's staple expletive during 40 years of Yankee broadcasts was, "HOLY COW!!!!". I was just picking up my son from his play group and heard Meat Loaf's Paradise by the Dashboard Light coming over the radio and smiled. Does G-d really have that kind of sense of humor? Meat Loaf purportedly tricked Rizzuto into taping a fictitious baseball announcement for the song which has long since become famous. If you know what I'm talking about, you're smiling as well. It turns out he knew full well what he was recording, but faked ignorance to get his priest and his wife off his back. "HOLY COW" is in the song as well. Our Shabbos portion is another Holy Cow.

Where'd he get it from, that expression? Ever wonder? No. 10's been retired from the Yankees and "the Scooter" has been retired from existence, so there's no one to ask. But with the little sleep I've had this week, my mind starts to wander. Perhaps parshas Parah? This very Torah portion that we're assigned so close to Passover talks of the Parah Aduma - the red heiffer - a Temple sacrifice so profound that it can purify the most impure of impurities, something that even King Solomon the Wise couldn't understand (in fact the only thing). Only G-d can do and understand such an impossibility. Making the totally impure, completely pure. And this cow, this holy cow, is the way forward.

The high priest in the Temple performed the task with the greatest of purity himself, only to be rendered impure himself the second the impure recipient becomes pure. A paradox of epic proportion. But the message we can understand, and we must understand before we experience Jewish freedom on Passover.

The Torah describes the process in great detail and the central component is the ash of the sacrifice (a completely unblemished, unworked, red heffer). However, at the very end of the portion, the Torah changes its diction from 'ash' (Ayfer in Hebrew) to 'dirt' (afar) - changing an alef to an ayin. What's the difference between ash and dirt? Ash is thoroughly destroyed - the remnants of something that was and is positively and irreconcilably no longer. Dirt, however, has no past, but is only potential - the future. In it things can grow, take root, absorb its nutrients. It is the life giving cocoon that this world provides. The Parah Aduma sacrifice represents G-d's ability, nay promise, to raise the dead, so to speak. From that which by all standards is completely destroyed and cannot give life, He will bring forth life. When the Jewish people seem to have no future, no hope of future greatness, they are promised to rise again. This is our message as a People. We speak it of ourselves and the miracle of our existence, and we speak of G-d's promise and His prowess. Precisely just when there seems to be no future, there is nothing but hope. That's what we stand for, and that message is so crucial to Passover.

Holy Cow, indeed.

Good Shabbos,

Rabbi Lynn

March 18, 2011-Tzav/Purim

2011-03-28T14:03:00.000-04:00

I had a very poignant conversation with a student this week which highlighted our approach to Jewish holidays. They are not commemorations,
but rather re-visitations. We fast on the fast of Esther because we need the message and the repentance. We rejoice on Purim because we need to feel the love of what it means to be a Jew. In short, we endeavor to re-experience the array of emotions and strengthen our steadfast convictions to the mission of the Jewish people. We shed the tears of pain and euphoria almost simultaneously. As only Jews can.

Over spring break, we once again journeyed to Poland - what better
preparation for Purim can there be. Without question, we experienced the lows of the lows, and thusly the highs of the highs. But something else happened this week which should give our fast of Esther some bite. And less the message be slightly unclear, we will be reading the Torah portion of Amalek this Shabbos, the remembrance of that nation whose only joy is the annihilation of the Jewish people.

Last week we stood at the mass grave of over 800 children from Tarnow in Galicia, Poland in a forest called Zbylitovska Gura. The Nazis sadistically rejoiced in exterminating the third reich's greatest enemy, Jewish children. And now, 70 years later, the same beast called Amalek has reared its head yet again. Last Shabbos the Fogel family in Israel was brutally slaughtered in their home - a father, mother and 3 children ages 11, 3 and 3 months - by hand with a knife as they lay in bed. In the streets of Gaza and the west bank, arabs celebrated and passed out candies and treats. If this isn't sobering, I don't know what is.

Please do not turn a blind eye to this tragedy. If you didn't know, be sure to look it up. If you did know, be sure to shed a river of tears.

It seems every year Purim becomes more and more relevant. We don't need to look around anymore for Haman - he's made himself quite known. And his henchmen are bloodthirsty in their loyalty to Amelek's anthem.

So how do we respond? We sing and dance and drink and eat. We read the Megilah which tells the timely story of our Divine salvation on the brink of extermination. We see that the Almighty was there all along - even in the darkness when He seemed furthest away. We pay attention to that story and strengthen our resolve to see through the haze of history and know with complete faith that even in our present darkness, the Purim story holds the key to our salvation. We dress in costume to mock the veneer of 'how the word looks' and we send gifts to our fellow Jew and alms to the Jewish poor to increase our love - nay, infatuation - for this enigma call the Jew and our responsibility to it. And we drink. Drink to feel the love. Drink to
bring out the heart which can defeat the skepticism of the head.

If you think Purim is one big excuse for a pub crawl, then unfortunately the holiday has been adulterated. And if people choose to spend the time as an excuse for frivolity and blithering drunkenness, then we will have fallen behind once again in achieving the lofty and elusive goal of tikkun olam. The Purim story is the most powerful message we can revisit today. Drunkenness for the sake of drunkenness is further fodder to our enemies. A drink for the love of being a Jew is the prescription of Purim.

Good Shabbos, and a Freilichen Purim.
Rabbi Lynn

February 18, 2011- Ki Sisa

2011-03-28T14:02:00.000-04:00

I realized something else I have in common with my kids. We both think that the lady who sings 1234 really wrote the song about penguins at the door and chickens just back from the shore and an obsession with counting. Little did we know that a woman dubbed feist is actually working towards a different career. Personally, I like what she did here better.

She loves counting. So does Hashem. But we do it sans chickens and monsters and ceilings of 4. The Torah portion this week begins with counting. God wants Moses to count the Jewish people. And the portion is named after the first telling words - Ki Sisa - which means when you raise up the Jewish people (it's translated as 'when you take a census', but the root of the word means to raise). What does counting have to do with raising up?

Sesame Street: Feist sings 1,2,3,4

As a side note, the Torah clearly teaches us not to count their heads, but rather have everyone give a half a shekel, and count them instead. We don't like to put a fixed number on counting people. It's an evil eye thing that the little red bracelet won't dispel. But what is even more interesting is that the Torah teaches that Moses couldn't figure out what the shekel was supposed to look like, so God showed him a coin of fire - matbei'ah shel aish. What didn't Moses know? What was he bothered by? and how was this the answer.

The word for counting in Hebrew is 'lispor' from the root of the same word 'sipour' meaning story and the word 'sefer' meaning book. When Jews count, we're not counting for quantity alone, but rather we're mostly counting for quality. Quality of Oneness. A story is a series of different events that are woven together to teach a single theme or to accomplish a single entity called 'the story'. The 'sefer' is the unification of those events under one cover. The same root which means 'to count' is of a similar vein. We count not for the amount, but to create a greater whole. Moses' question was really how can we 'raise up' the Jewish people and count them in a way
which unifies and doesn't disperse. More deeply, as a leader, he wanted to understand how to unify a people. So God showed him a coin of fire. Fire is the great consumer. Everything that enters it, becomes it. It reduces the individual components of the thing to energy, thus destroying the elements which distinguish it from something else - in size, texture, color, dimension, space and time - and turning it into pure energy - its spiritual component - so that it can 'serve' the greater One. Fire is the great equalizer. God was showing Moses the power of the spiritual oneness already latent in each and every Jew and the opportunity to bring that out. To the degree to which the Jewish people will know their spiritual truth, to the degree to which they will be willing to sacrifice the superficial, physical components of their being, will be the very recipe for Oneness - the ultimate goal for the nation of Israel.

This what it means to be 'counted' among the Jewish people - a feat that spans time and space. This is the Jewish 'story' and our Torah is the sefer in which we strive to be written.

Good Shabbos,
Rabbi Lynn

February 4, 2011- Terumah

2011-03-28T14:00:00.000-04:00

From the surface, the word "adultery" says a lot of how we see ourselves maturing through life. I haven't checked the dictionary, but I imagine we're describing an event which is...well...a manifestation or expression of adulthood. Consenting adults. But not quite. One of these is "faithfully" committed to someone else. And unbeknownst to them, their trust is being
obliterated. Could such an abusive violation of the very gift of intimacy really be coined with a word that drips of maturity? Perhaps I've got it wrong. But from the looks of things out there, and the staggering rates of illicit behavior, it may seem that the very staple of adulthood is thoroughly rotted with its namesake, adultery.

Seems like we should stay kids forever, no?

By the way, in Judaism the stakes are raised exponentially. "Adultery" is not transgressed by only the very brazen men and women of action, but any adulterous violation of the purest intimacy is included. A spouse who has thoughts of another whilst loving his or her "beloved" of holy matrimony, is considered on par with the very worst. In the bedroom, there exists the potential for either the holiest and least lonely of life's experiences, or, God forbid (and He did ;-)), the most severely profane and most lonely moment in existence.

This week's Torah portion is called Terumah, and deals predominantly with the details of the Tabernacle and its accompanying vessels. Lying atop the Ark of the Covenant in the Holiest place on earth, encasing the most sacred tablets of our people, are the cruvim כרובים (by their Greek translation -cherubim). They are little, winged, baby-faced "angels" perched above the contract of existence, the tablets of our partnership with the Almighty, their wings outstretched upwards towards each other and the Heavens. And with typical miraculous fashioning, their posturing will change to reflect the spiritual state of the Jewish people vis a vis their covenant. With bowed heads and draped wings, the cruvim would tell a frightening tale of the Jewish state of affairs, longing once again to hold their heads upright and reach towards the Heavens. Many times in our history have they reflected such misfortune, and often have they radiated with the success and beauty of our people. Were they revealed to us today I shudder at imagining their pose.

Why children? Why children with wings? Why atop the Aron HaKodesh? Children are nothing but potential -waiting to be drawn out and brought to completion. Waiting to fulfill a great destiny that sprouts from toil, dedication, nutrients and nurture, that grows and develops into vessels of unlimited vision and hope, and develops capacities of almost infinite potential. This can be realized. Or this can be lost. But the potential is what God has given us, and that potential flows from one source alone - Him- and through one source as well - His Torah. The Cruvim stand above the Ark, fashioned from one piece of gold with the Ark's cover - drawing their existence from the contents within and spreading the light of Torah through the Jewish people and the world. Or not.

And now for some numerology: God is, obviously ONE (see the Shma). The number which most reflects the very next option for created existence is, you guessed it, TWO. Good. As we know, all Hebrew letters have consistent numerical values. ב=2, כ=20, ר=200. These are the letters that represent all that flows from the ONE. The Torah begins with a beis ב because that's the place where Torah begins (reading that line requires the right emphasis -you can work it out, I'm hopeful) - the place where the spiritual world can first begin to flow into this one. The word for blessing, brocha, is made from these letters. A chariot, rechev, as well (bringing things out - can
you see it?). And, of course, Cruvim. (I know, you Hebrew speakers are wondering about cabbage - chruv - take a look at a whole one and you'll see the "bringing out" of all the leaves). Bringing things out into potential is the key to Jewish success and focus of much of our attention.

Adulthood, and subsequent acts of "adulthoodness" are meant to be
actualizations of atomic potential, not adulterous stoopings to animalistic urges. As we grow and develop ourselves, we should be both frighteningly aware and euphorically hopeful of the great privilege and responsibility that lies in being raised, raising ourselves further, and one day (if not already) raising others.

Wishing you a lovely Shabbos,

Rabbi Lynn

January 29, 2011- Mishpatim

2011-03-28T13:59:00.000-04:00

Let it snow, let it snow, let it snow.... The classic Dean Martin rendition can be found here http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mN7LW0Y00kE. This, like many other xmas songs was written of course by jews - this one by Sammy Cahn and Jule Styne. But despite the highjacking by St. Nick, it's actually a sweet little love song that doesn't mention saturnalia or its coca-cola substitute xmas even once. Just a little bit of love under a blanket of snow. Fitting for this Shabbos.

Parshas Mishpatim (the Torah segment called "ordinances") - a laundry list of tort laws, marital laws, by-laws and more laws (including sorcery!). What a wonderful parsha. For those of us who spent years in yeshivas, this is the bread we've been raised on. All the subtleties, nuances, details, applications, manifestations, incarnations of God's Law. Each word rings with hours and days and weeks of Talmuldic discourse, reams of commentaries, plumbed depths of philosophy and logic. The familiar smells of home, the tastes that linger and remind us of the place to which we yearn to return.

The parsha begins, "And these are the ordinances". As we all learnt in grammar school - never, never begin a sentence with "and", let alone a whole book, so to speak - except, of course, if you're God. When He says it, He means to connect this entire teaching to the previous - not merely a run-on, but inextricably intertwined. Just as the previous parsha (10 commandments) was spoken and given on Har Sinai, so too were all these details. God's world is like pointillism: the greatness of the big picture is only a result of an appreciation of the details, while the details themselves have no
meaning other than their place in the larger context. Details, details,
itty-bitty nitty-gritty beautiful, gorgeous details...

The measure of love is in the details. Go ask anyone who has navigated the labyrinths of marriage successfully and thus finds him/herself enveloped in love and oneness to sketch a picture their better half - what you'll get are details and more details, well beyond the physical appearance. An open-ended story with infinite discoveries. And only a true lover will relish them -every last one to the nth degree.

The Torah is a love story. The Sages liken the revelation on Har Sinai to a wedding, with the mountain being our Chuppah - God and the Jewish people as bride and groom. I would be so bold to say that Egypt was the courtship, The Red Sea splitting the engagement, Har Sinai the marriage, and Mishpatim the honeymoon. These laws and intricacies, sometimes blamed as the source of ultimate frustration and abandonment of Torah, are actually the very keys to
marrying the metaphysical. Judaism stands alone in striving to find God in the details - which really translates into bringing the spiritual in the physical, giving every inch of life and all its scenarios a connection to its source, and discovering holiness in the seemingly otherwise profane.

Wishing you a "white" Shabbos,

Rabbi Lynn

January 21, 2011- Yisro/Tu B'shevat

2011-03-28T13:58:00.000-04:00

A week of birthdays. Happy birthday Rabbi Lynn (40 - whoa!), happy birthday Rosa Lynn (8), and happy birthday trees (5771). And although it's not the actual date this week, the Torah portion recounts the original 'Birthday' of the Jewish nation at Mt. Sinai (before that, we were merely a family - now we became a nation). But let's get back to the trees for a second. Yesterday was Tu B'Shvat, which basically means the 15th of the Hebrew month of Shvat (Tu is the sound the Hebrew letter numerical system would make if you pronounced it, much like 'vol' would be VL or 45 in roman numerals), and it's known to be the birthday of the trees.

There are two points which need an explanation. Firstly, the Talmud teaches that there are actually four Rosh Hashanas. We know of the one for us, but there's another for water (succot), grains (passover) and trees/fruit (tu b'shvat) - four distinct cycles of time where these essentials are recycled and thus 'judged'. On our Rosh Hashana we review the previous year's crop of good deeds vs bad deeds and set the course for the coming year's consequential allotment. So too for water, grain, and fruit at their appropriate time, with however one small note of importance; neither water nor grain nor fruit misbehaves - rather WE are judged on these days vis a vis water, grain and fruit. On a simple level, or measure of these things for the coming year is meted out on these dates (and there are special additions to our prayers and customs accordingly). However on a much deeper level, we are 'judged on these days vis a vis what water grain and trees represent to us. Water is Torah and Grain means our livelihood. But what are the trees about????

Here lies the second point - and a very beautiful one. To Shakespeare, tis the winter of our discontent. To the world at large, winter represents death, dearth, darkness, dread and dreary. Spring is full of life and vigor. Etc. Granted, the world looks quite bleak during the winter. The days are dark, the cold oppresses, and life seems a million miles away - as of this writing, the snow has begun to fall in Philly. And yet, in typical Jewish fashion, we are the iconoclasts. In the dead of winter, the very heart of death and darkness, the Jew celebrates life. Tu B'shvat's ritual is namely the eating of fruit - tons of it, classically 15 different kinds, or at the very least the species indigenous to the land of Israel. In the heart of winter we celebrate life because we have a secret; our Sages teach that unbeknownst to those with superficial perception, the sap actually begins to enter the tree on this day, when everything else looks bleak. WE know that the seeds of life are sown amidst the outward gloom, rays of light are planted in the heart of darkness because the world in never what it seems when God runs the show and you are His people. We celebrate that faith, that trust, that no matter how grim things seems, salvation is already on its way. Bitachon - trust - the Jewish way of understanding. That's what Tu B'shvat is all about.

And if you've been following this so far, then the both aforementioned points make sense together. Tu B'shvat is the Rosh Hashana when we're judged specifically vis a vis our faith and trust in God's system. Do we have it? Can we pass the tests? Can we not be fooled by trends and externalities? Not so simple. But oh so Jewish.

As I send my little girl off into her eighth year full of life and sparkle, I turn an auspicious corner in my own timeline and endeavor to take the Tu B'shvat message to heart.

Good Shabbos,

Rabbi Lynn

December 17, 2010- Veyechi/ Fast of Teves

2011-03-28T13:57:00.000-04:00

Today is the 10^th of the Hebrew month of Teves. And while there are plenty of aromatic temptations in the kitchen so close to Shabbos, today is traditionally a fast day (not a 'full' fast like Yom Kippur, but since dawn this morning through evening). Once upon a time, it was actually a 3 day fast (light eating and drinking in the evenings), commemorating certain paradigm events of Jewish tragedy that 'coincidentally' occurred on the darkest days of the year. We Jews are of course poetic people to boot and the significance of darkness is never lost on us, the people of light. Today it is reduced to one day of fasting and is set aside to commemorate the beginning of the siege and destruction of Jerusalem and the Temple, the death of Ezra the Scribe and arguably one of the most prominent leaders of the Jewish people both spiritually and politically, the end of prophesy and the translation of the Torah into Greek. All of these share the common theme of wresting the Jews away from their source and catapulting us into the darkness where the light of truth will be ever more elusive.

However in today's day and age where the translation of Hebrew books is heralded by the Jewish people and has been solely responsible for a wealth of renewed study and erudition, how can we understand the 'tragedy' of the Torah's translation into Greek as something tantamount to Jerusalem's destruction and the arrest of prophetic communication? There is a statement attributed to the great leader of German Jewry, Rabbi Samson Raphael Hirsch, whose canon of inspiring essays and books saved European Jewry from complete assimilation. "Theology is man's study of God. Torah is God's study of man." The Greeks accomplished something so subtly dangerous - a mere translation - that demands a day of fasting, repentance and introspection.

There was, however, a great miracle as well. The Greeks ordered 70 of the Sages into separate chambers and demanded an accurate translation. Miraculously, each of the Sages made the exact same edits and addendums to assure that the Greek translation could not be used in any defamatory way against the Jews. This translation of 70 became known famously as the Septugent. And while nowadays translations are welcomed and appreciated, this translation was different.

When we speak of engaging Torah - we speak of 'learning' Torah. In Van Pelt and other university libraries, you 'study' Torah. Studying connotes one's own mastery and control over the subject matter. It becomes the possession of the its student, to be used as pleased. We 'master' it and it becomes ours. 'Learning' Torah is powerfully different. We subjugate ourselves to the Torah, understanding the truth of its Divinity and its 'mastery' of us. We humbly accept the task of learning the will of the Almighty - imitation dei - striving our entire lives to live up to His and the Torah's standards. The Torah is not something to grace our book shelves as another intellectual conquest, as the Greeks so cleverly schemed, but rather the pulmonary system of the Jewish people which has always served us uniquely well when held in the highest esteem, and conversely when shunned or merely 'studied' we Jews have never found success.

Anatomy will teach you much of the human being. It can surely be studied and mastered. But it is in no way representative of what a person really is when alive. The academic approach to Torah will similarly show no life. The 'learning' of Torah is about nothing else. The Greeks sought to sever us from our source. With this they surely succeeded. They've left their armies in place, but there's hope for the Jewish people nonetheless and we long for (and work tirelessly towards) the restoration of Torah values and a Torah life.

Good Shabbos,

Rabbi Lynn

December 10, 2010- Vayigash

2011-03-28T13:56:00.000-04:00

The following was written last year on the anniversary of the Mumbai attack.
It was this week's Torah portion, Vayigash.

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 3, 2010- Miketz

2011-03-28T13:55:00.000-04:00

So last night, we cut Yehuda's hair. He went from a gorgeous little (just) 3 year old with flowing blond locks and the sweetest disposition to a boy. A real boy! In mere seconds he seemed to be transposed into the proverbial 'wildchild' with cunning and mischief as his modus operandus. Granted, it could have been the sugar overload and hours of adoring attention (the haircut was a very public event - snips for everyone), but something very powerful was indeed unleashed. At 3, a Jewish child takes 'form' and is introduced to Torah and Mitzvot. He takes physical form (that's the haircut) and spiritual form as well - we begin the alefbeis, he gets his first pair of tzitzis, peis, and of course the yarmulke. A Jewish life begins stage 2 at 3: deeply rooted in Torah, and that's the celebration.

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 forget. 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 the Shabbos of Hanukah, and the coming week brings 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,
Rabbi Lynn

November 27, 2010- Vayeshev

2011-03-28T13:54:00.000-04:00

So the word on the web is that 46 million turkeys are killed for thanksgiving every year. If you like, to stave off the genocide, you can join ellen degenerous and adopt a turkey instead of eating it. I'm not sure it's as cute as the cabbage patch fad of yore, but you'll have plenty of plumes for your calligraphy lessons. There's also tofurkey for the vegans and turducken, john madden's concoction of 3 birds one stuffed inside the other for the real carnivores. This is America's answer to seder night. In Plymouth, MA in something like 1621 the native Americans had helped the newcomers adapt and cultivate food for survival and for that they were treated to a meal of gratitude, with the indigenous and bountiful turkey as the centerpiece. This was probably a lovely gesture considering the future the native Americans would face at the hands of the grateful.

Interesting tidbit: many religious Jews who immigrated to the colonies refused to eat turkey because it's apparently not to be found in Europe, certainly not the middle east, and thus there was no tradition to its Kosher status (and the birds in the Torah named - none of them with overt turkey designation). But we've managed to work it out, thank G-d; otherwise we'd feel so un-American.

Lest our gratitude for life and blessing be lost on heartburn alone, we've got black Friday to justify our deep seeded desire for stampedes, pillaging, plundering and hedonism. Seems like the turkeys get their 'stuffing' revenge when we stuff ourselves with far worse than bread crumbs. As I write these words, the lines outside Target are growing in size and tension.

On Thursday night, the 2^nd night of Chanukah, we are making an UPSHERIN for our Yehudah. This is the celebration of his 3^rd birthday accompanied by his very first haircut (upsherin in Yiddish). More than the haircut, however, is the opportunity it provides - the making of the peios (side locks seen most prominently on Chassidim, but worn by all observant jews, often a bit more modestly). He'll also get a kippah and tzitzis, but the peios are the essential source of the celebration. Besides their spiritual and kabalistic significance, they are a true sign of a Jew - distinct and different, beautiful and unique. As with a bris milah, a Jewish boy gets (needs) another sign to distinguish himself and show his Jew colors. For this, once the scholars, tzadikim, family and friends have snipped a locket or two of his gorgeous blonde mane, we will pull out the stops and have our own thanksgiving meal, with quite a different menu - latkes and lights, and anything BUT the turkey and sweet potato pie.

Chanukah is the time to celebrate the sacrifice and miracle of Jews who realized assimilation was a death warrant and Jewish distinction should be a source of pride, if not a vital organ of existence. I am feeling a deep, beautiful sense of 'revenge' in celebrating, nay creating, my son's peios during Chanukah. That the menorah and its oil stands for the victory of Jewish religious service and namely the power of Jewish wisdom, this is the message I will devour with every scissor snip as our dear Yehuda is set apart. The other correlation of an upsherin is to the mitzvoh of orlah - a tree is to be left alone for 3 years as it grows and critically strengthens itself and its roots. The 4^th year of its fruits are considered holy - for G-d alone. From then on it will feed the Jewish people. We surely hope he's grown strong, and will endeavor to make his 4^th year holy, and G-d willing continue to raise him as an integral part of the Jewish people. BTW, you're all invited!!!! Seriously.

Good Shabbos,

Rabbi Lynn

November 19, 2010- Vayishlach

2011-03-28T13:53:00.000-04:00

Brotherly Vengence

Clearly, he's not a Jewish turkey. I'm thankful for thanksgiving (lowercase t - not the hallmark holiday, but rather merely the concept). There's a Jewish Law which requires us to notify the recipient of our kindness (not charity related where anonymity is key) of our kindness, so that they should have the opportunity to be thankful. The specific scenario recorded is having given someone's child something to eat and intentionally smearing some of the food in a visible place so the parents can notice and come to uncover the kindness done. And then be thankful. During the communal recitation of the central component of public prayer, where Jews connect as a nation after having prayed as individuals, and where we join in the single voice of our appointed chazan, when it comes to the portion of thanks, we each utter our own personal supplement because thanks can only be that - personal. That's the only way it works, when it comes from within. Most significant, however, the last line of the personal thanks in the public forum is thanking the Almighty for creating the opportunity to thank Him. Think about it - it's a fundamental Jewish message.

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 cares 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 thankful thanking to be thankful,

thanks,

Rabbi Lynn (proud member of the tribe of Levi, and humbly one of the privileged MLF turkey basters bringing Torah and Leadership to Philly and beyond)

November 12, 2010-Vayetze

2011-03-28T13:52:00.001-04:00

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 5, 2010

2010-11-09T12:26:00.002-05:00

Jacob and Esau. Better known as Yaakov and Eisav in their mother's tongue. Their names tell the whole story. As we've learned before, a Jewish name is not just a name, but rather the essence of the thing. שם Shem means name and sham שם means there - right there's where you'll find it. And a thing is not just a thing, but rather only an emanation from God. דבר Davar means thing. Davar means spoken word. And we know how God creates - with His word. So His word is the thing and the thing gets a name and that name is the essence of God's word in this world. These are the portals through which we crawl in from our end down here and reach into the recesses of the spiritual source. Knowing the name, or rather naming the name is at the heart of the named. For example:

Everything in the world was created with its counterpart. Male and Female mimic the Heavens and the Earth, and everything down below has its very own significant other (everything has a male and female component in creation, everything), signifying the process of e pluribus unum, division becoming One. Adam didn't have it yet and he searched the expanse of creation. Every animal passed before him and he knew it (even in the biblical sense of knowing, you know?), he knew its essence and by so doing gave it its name. So someone who really understands an elephant, Hebrew, and a specific smattering of Kabala will understand why a פיל (piel) is an elephant. Got it? Can you see it?

Also, when we're born or have children, parents get Ruach HaKodesh (holy spirit, but that has really terrible connotations for Jews in a Christian world - doesn't mean anywhere near the same thing). Meaning, the Almighty puts the thought and affinity for the name in your head because He knows the essence of the soul, and its name needs to be its name. No joke. This is normative Judaism. Now, of course, this probably only works for parents who are anyways looking for the kid's essence in the name and using the soul's language (not modern Hebrew, sorry) where Roderick and Winifred are not really options. But nonetheless, the name is achieved through Divine intervention. If you don't know your Hebrew name, it's high time figure it out. If you don't have one, got to get one.

So too with Yaakov and Eisav. Our Sages tell us that Eisav's name עשו comes from נעשה na'ase which means done/completed. He was born with so much hair, red hair no less, that he appeared several years older. Why? Because hair grows where we are expressed out in the world. Eisav's whole existence was as a warrior, conqueror, trapper and man of earthly conquest. His entire being was in the world of action. He was meant to be Yaakov's partner, to actualize all of his worldliness for good and for God, but once he chose his heretical ways, Yaakov was left with the task of absorbing Eisav's earthly prowess, poetically played out in his disguising himself with woolen hands as Eisav before his blind father Yitzhok.

Yaakov, on the other hand, is a construct of two ideas. יעקב Yaakov means taking the yud י , the letter representing the most refined spiritual presence in the physical dimension (the least amount of ink and suspended well above ground level), down to the עקב the heel, the bottom and final point of the creation of man, the central figure in and purpose of creation. He was created to bring out the spiritual source and purpose in all of creation, even to the thickened and trodden "heels" of this world, and accomplish total self-perfection.

The battle between Yaakov and Eisav is the essential battle between Jew and pure physicality. While Art Garfinke and Woody Allen sing pagan praises to Manhattan, we might just shudder at the hairy hands of Eisav and the seeming nonexistence of the underlying mystical truths of creation. And that's from a former fan of Art and Woody's, NYU film school, all things Yankee, and the Staten Island Ferry.

Wishing you all a very holy Shabbos.

Rabbi Lynn

October 29, 2010

2010-11-09T12:26:00.001-05:00

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 זז 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 the cave's inhabitants - Adam & Eve, Abraham & Sara, Isaac & Rebecca, Jacob & Leah - and can thus try to 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

October 22, 2010

2010-11-09T12:25:00.000-05:00

Seven years ago during the intifada, the tragedy which seemed to trump all others occurred. Dr. David Applebaum and his daughter, Nava, were 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 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

October 15, 2010

2010-11-09T12:24:00.000-05:00

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 worldly prowess (as evidenced by his subsequent political positions in Sodom). In a sense, he was an almost perfect fusion of the spiritual and physical, that which the eventual Messiah will be. His whole being was antithetical 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. When Abraham heard that this war had escalated to the spiritual realm as well, that Lot had been seized, then and only then did he get involved and single-handedly turned the tide, returning Lot once again to his family.

You see, the other nations 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. What the world is facing these days is an ideological battle of spiritual dominion. At least one side views it as such.

What an interesting turn of events that the conversation in the Middle East in now hinged on semantics. A two state solution is no longer the key issue. Neither are 'settlements'. Rather the focus is the JEWISH state of Israel. Will Israel be recognized as a "Jewish" state - that is the issue Israel is pushing, that is the issue the PA is fighting, and that is the issue everyone else is trying to ignore.

We are always hopeful that things will work out without conflict. Either way, the goal is to strengthen our resolve, strengthen our spirit, strengthen our connection to our roots and strive to perfect ourselves and the world around us. The rest is in Someone else's hands.

Wishing you all a good shabbos.

Rabbi Lynn

October 8, 2010

2010-11-09T12:23:00.000-05:00

The dove and the olive branch. Ever wondered from where it originated? Not Picasso. But rather from this week's Torah reading, the story of Noah. After previous unsuccessful attempts to find land, the dove returned with the famous branch showing God's flood had begun to subside. Life would be renewed. A world of peace could be built upon the ruins of a world already ruined before the first raindrop. The evil, debauchery, thievery and ungodliness which prevailed was no more, and the olive branch was the first to raise it's head above water and declare victory for God, Noah, righteousness, morality and humankind. Beautiful.

So why was the dove punished? That's right, something it did was so consequential that its eternal Blessing was forever compromised (so says our tradition). In fact, the language, rather word choice of the Torah seems to describe the branch not as plucked, but rather killed - עלה זית טרף בפיה the olive branch was 'killed' in its mouth. Says our sensitive and exacting tradition in the Midrash, "if it were not killed, how many tress may have grown." It didn't need the olive, the seed, per se to bring the message of salvation and hope to a desolate world. It should not have been over exuberant in its announcement of success. Rather it should have understood, especially considering the circumstances of potential environmental genocide, the potential of life, its value and its sacredness.

A branch in the dove's mouth would have been enough of a sign for peace. The olive would have populated the world one by one by one by one, and perhaps we'd be tasting the offspring-oil of the very first fruit that was granted a peaceful world. Our sages teach of exacting care and precision, even when performing a mitzvoh, and appreciation for all of God's creation. Now I know it doesn't seem right giving the proverbial messenger of peace and good tidings such a raking over the coals, and we must certainly appreciate all the dove's efforts and its timeless message. But when we're discussing 'peace', we Jews know the word Shalom is rooted in the word Shaleim - meaning complete. Completion is our goal, peace the result. We should be wary of over-exuberant gestures of Peace in place of critical and careful consideration, no matter how exciting they are and how anti-climactic the opposite.

Good Shabbos,

Rabbi Lynn

Sukkot 2010

2010-11-09T12:21:00.000-05:00

Hello my friends and Chag Sameach!

Yesterday I had a wisdom tooth pulled. 'Pulling' may be a bit too soft a description. Obviously I'm very appreciated of novocain, but the image of the dentist with his foot on my shoulder for leverage as he sweated and grunted trying to dislodge this bastard tooth might just send me to therapy. At the end of it all, he scolded me. "In the Dental world, you're a great disappointment. Only 2% of the country has their mother's teeth and father's jaw to allow perfect placement of wisdom teeth, and you blew it through sheer negligence." I admit, there was a candy a year ago on purim that dislodged my filling back there and I did nothing about it. And now here I am on vicodin and ibuprofen and loving it ;-). But that wisdom tooth is now relegated to the realm of 'missed opportunities'. I let it slide and have paid the price. In a world of consequence (Divinely orchestrated as such), we need to take advantage of what we have and the messages life sends us. We need to internalize the truths we capture with our brains, bring them into our hearts and take them out into action. That's what Sukkot is all about and it begins tonight.

So we've presented our plan for the coming year on Rosh Hashanah, 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 as you can get them 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 lose sight of it until next year. This was basically one of the intentions of 40 years 'wandering' the desert - to turn the lessons learned on Mt. Sinai into internalized instinct. And if that analogy doesn't work, think of all the phantom blackberry vibrations you still feel in your hip well after you've put the blackberry away. The Sukkah is there to keep the 'holiday spirit' with us for another 11.5 months. 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)

Chag Sameach,
Rabbi Lynn

September 17, 2010

2010-11-09T12:18:00.000-05:00

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. But can it really be that such a momentary 'lapse' can count for so much?

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 3, 2010

2010-11-09T12:17:00.003-05:00

Hello my dear friends.

Season's greetings ;-). It's been quite a summer and this post has been on hiatus too long - while it may seem silly, I often get the profound feeling that I'm sitting with all of you (well over 400 MLF alumni) as I type. Delusional, I know, but a very warm feeling nonetheless. Nice to see you again....

This Shabbat, Jews around the world will be reading the Torah portion called Netzavim, named for the first verse which reads, "You are all standing (netzavim) today before the Almighty, your God: your leaders, your tribal heads, your elders, your judges - every person of Israel." Moses, on the last day of his life, had gathered the nation to deliver his final message, to review the covenant which God had offered and we accepted. In Kabalistic writings, the word today, hayom, in the Torah always refers to THE day, Rosh Hashanah. In fact, this portion of the Torah always coincides with the Shabbat before Rosh Hashanah and, in a sense, is alluding to our impending approach to the coming days of judgment where we, as a nation in utter unity, will present ourselves to our Creator for the ultimate accounting. We are 'standing' to answer for our part of the deal.

There's an apparent contradiction of sorts, however, in our sentiment towards this holy day of reckoning. Rosh Hashanah is, after all, the day of judgment, followed 10 days later by the day of atonement, and yet the tone of the day is surprisingly jubilant - there's no mention of confession, guilt, sin, there's no heaviness to the service, the liturgy is full of the Almighty and Israel's praise, the meals are festive and lavish - have we forgotten this is the day of reckoning? Which books are opened? That here we confront our own accountability and the unspeakable finitude of life itself? Have we missed our cue?

While it is true that the prospects are menacing, "judgment" is merely a minor theme of the day - we'll save the trembling for the next 10 days and Yom Kippur. Rosh Hashanah however, a day when the entire nation presents itself for judgment, bespeaks a far greater message; one where all joy surpasses fear. We stand as one with the Almighty in fulfilling His will and bringing the world to its completion. This is the mission we accepted and, more importantly, for which we were accepted. Yes, we have fallen short, and yes, there is much to repair. But the covenant itself, the mission and intimate partnership with God, is tremendous cause for celebration. It is precisely at the time of reckoning, when we realize the extent of our responsibility, with Whom we partner, the mission in all its grandeur, and the privilege of participation, no matter how difficult.

It is said that the biggest blow to all our spiritual enemies - those which tempt our resolve and subpoena our every move in the Heavenly tribunal - is the very fact that we walk into the courtroom on our own volition, in perfect acceptance and appreciation of what judgment really means. They've been trying to put us on trial, but we beat them to it and volunteered ourselves. The Jewish People rises well above its simple, fallible, and ultimately forgivable humanity. Rosh Hashanah is the joy of getting into the night club of all night clubs, and even though what lies beyond the great velvet ropes upstairs may be daunting, critical, punishing and painful, the entry is so sweet. Praiseworthy are we who stand in judgment, for the privilege of being chosen for the job.

Wishing you all a good writing and signing and a very sweet new year!

Rabbi Lynn

January 30, 2009

2009-02-04T15:56:00.004-05:00

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

2009-02-04T15:56:00.003-05:00

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

2009-02-04T15:56:00.001-05:00

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

2009-02-04T15:55:00.001-05:00

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

2009-02-04T15:54:00.001-05:00

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

2009-02-04T15:52:00.001-05:00

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

2009-02-04T15:50:00.001-05:00

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

2009-02-04T15:48:00.001-05:00

November 28, 2008

2009-02-04T15:45:00.001-05:00

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

2009-02-04T15:44:00.000-05:00

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

2009-02-04T15:43:00.000-05:00

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

2009-02-04T15:42:00.000-05:00

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

2009-02-04T15:35:00.003-05:00

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

2009-02-04T15:35:00.001-05:00

"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

2009-02-04T15:32:00.001-05:00

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

2009-02-04T15:31:00.000-05:00

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

2009-02-04T15:30:00.002-05:00

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

2009-02-04T15:30:00.001-05:00

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

2009-02-04T15:29:00.001-05:00

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

2009-02-04T15:28:00.002-05:00

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

cutest little baby face - terumah

2008-02-08T14:51:00.000-05:00

From the surface, the word "adultery" says a lot of how we see ourselves maturing through life. I haven't checked the dictionary, but I imagine we're describing an event which is...well...a manifestation or expression of adulthood. Consenting adults. But not quite. One of these is "faithfully" committed to someone else. And unbeknownst to them, their trust is being obliterated. Could such an abusive violation of the very gift of intimacy really be coined with a word that drips of maturity? Perhaps I've got it wrong. But from the looks of things out there, and the staggering rates of illicit behavior, it may seem that the very staple of adulthood is thoroughly rotted with its namesake, adultery.

Seems like we should stay kids forever, no?

By the way, in Judaism the stakes are raised exponentially. "Adultery" is not transgressed by only the very brazen men and women of action, but any adulterous violation of the purest intimacy is included. A spouse who has thoughts of another whilst loving his or her "beloved" of holy matrimony, is considered on par with the very worst. In the bedroom, there exists the potential for either the holiest and least lonely of life's experiences, or, God forbid (and He did ;-)), the most severely profane and most lonely moment in existance.

Lying atop the Ark of the Covenant in the Holiest place on earth, encasing the most sacred tablets of our people, are the cruvim כרובים (by their greek translation - cherubim). They are little, winged, baby-faced "angels" perched above the contract of existence, the tablets of our partnership with the Almighty, their wings outstretched upwards towards each other and the Heavens. And with typical miraculous fashioning, their posturing will change to reflect the spiritual state of the Jewish people vis a vis their covenant. With bowed heads and draped wings, the cruvim would tell a frightening tale of the Jewish state of affairs, longing once again to hold their heads upright and reach towards the Heavens. Many times in our history have they reflected such misfortune, and often have they radiated with the success and beauty of our people. Were they revealed to us today I shudder at imagining their pose.

Why children? Why children with wings? Why atop the Aron HaKodesh? Children are nothing but potential -waiting to be drawn out and brought to completion. Waiting to fulfill a great destiny that sprouts from toil, dedication, nutrients and nurture, that grows and develops into vessels of unlimited vision and hope, and develops capacities of almost infinite potential. This can be realized. Or this can be lost. But the potential is what God has given us, and that potential flows from one source alone - Him - and through one source as well - His Torah. The Cruvim stand above the Ark, fashioned from one piece of gold with the Ark's cover - drawing their existence from the contents within and spreading the light of Torah through the Jewish people and the world. Or not.

And now for some numerology: God is, obviously ONE (see the Shma). The number which most reflects the very next option for created existence is, you guessed it, TWO. Good. As we know, all hebrew letters have consistent numerical values. ב=2, כ=20, ר=200. These are the letters the represent all that flows from the ONE. The Torah begins with a beis ב because that's the place where Torah begins (reading that line requires the right emphasis - you can work it out, I'm hopeful) - the place where the spiritual world can first begin to flow into this one. The word for blessing, brocha, is made from these letters. A chariot, rechev, as well (bringing things out - can you see it?). And, of course, Cruvim. (I know, you hebrew speakers are wondering about cabbage - chruv - me too). Bringing things out into potential is the key to Jewish success and focus of much of our attention.

Adulthood, and subsequent acts of "adulthoodness" are meant to be actualizations of atomic potential, not adulterous stoopings to animalistic urges. As we grow and develop ourselves, we should be both frighteningly aware and euphorically hopeful of the great privilege and responsibility that lies in being raised, raising ourselves further, and one day (if not already) raising others.

Wishing you a lovely Shabbos,

Rabbi Lynn

Love me tender, Love me Jew... Mishpatim

2008-02-01T12:24:00.000-05:00

Good Shabbos,

Parshas Mishpatim (the Torah segment called “ordinances”) - a laundry list of tort laws, marital laws, by-laws and more laws (including sorcery!). What a wonderful parsha. For those of us who spent years in yeshivas, this is the bread we’ve been raised on. All the subtleties, nuances, details, applications, manifestations, incarnations of God’s Law. Each word rings with hours and days and weeks of Talmuldic discourse, reams of commentaries, plumbed depths of philosophy and logic. The familiar smells of home, the tastes that linger and remind us of the place to which we yearn to return.

The parsha begins, “And these are the ordinances”. As we all learnt in grammar school – never, never begin a sentence with “and”, let alone a whole book, so to speak – except, of course, if you’re God. When He says it, He means to connect this entire teaching to the previous – not merely a run-on, but inextricably intertwined. Just as the previous parsha (10 commandments) was spoken and given on Har Sinai, so too were all these details. God’s world is like pointillism: the greatness of the big picture is only a result of an appreciation of the details, while the details themselves have no meaning other than their place in the larger context. Details, details, itty-bitty nitty-gritty beautiful, gorgeous details…

The measure of love is in the details. Go ask anyone who has navigated the labyrinths of marriage successfully and thus finds him/herself enveloped in love and oneness to sketch a picture their better half – what you’ll get are details and more details, well beyond the physical appearance. An open-ended story with infinite discoveries. And only a true lover will relish them – every last one to the nth degree.

The Torah is a love story. The Sages liken the revelation on Har Sinai to a wedding, with the mountain being our Chuppah – God and the Jewish people as bride and groom. I would be so bold to say that Egypt was the courtship, The Red Sea splitting the engagement, Har Sinai the marriage, and Mishpatim the honeymoon. These laws and intricacies, sometimes blamed as the source of ultimate frustration and abandonment of Torah, are actually the very keys to marrying the metaphysical. Judaism stands alone in striving to find God in the details – which really translates into bringing the spiritual in the physical, giving every inch of life and all its scenarios a connection to its source, and discovering holiness in the seemingly otherwise profane.

Wishing you a “loverly” Shabbos,

Rabbi Lynn

Thou shalt not what?

2008-01-25T00:39:00.000-05:00

"I am Hashem, your God, who took you from the land of Egypt, from the house of bondage." This is Ten Commandment number one. Sounds like a command, don't it? What do we do with this? How do we "fulfill" such a command, if it really is one? I would have liked to lighten the question by telling you that the "Ten Commandments" in English is a complete misnomer. In Hebrew they're called the Aseres HaDibros, or the ten sayings - meaning that God chose to utter ten distinct statements - which, by the way, actually include 14 commandments. 10 statments, 14 commandments, and the first one is seemingly a clear statement, but deceivingly also the first commandment. The Mechilta, a very ancient collection of commentaries and explanations of Bilical passages, cites the following parable - a king entered his new domain and the populace asked him to pronounce decress. He responded, "First you must accept my sovereignty; only then can I set forth my decrees." This would thus seem a mere precurser to the following barrage of commandments, but yet virtually all the great commentaries count this as a positive commandment - to belive in the existence of Hashem as the only God.

Okay, I believe (one mitzvoh). Wait a sec, now I belive again (two mitzvos?). And again! (three...?) - this can't be what's expected, right?

Rather, our illustrious Sages point out the specific need for God to anchor His being, and subsequent "need" to believe in Him, in the exodus from Egypt, and not - let's say - mention more "lofty" ideas like creation itself. The commandment says, "I am God, who took you out of Egypt," etc. Creation was something none of us experienced. We might enjoy it and fully believe in its "createdness". But we weren't there. Egypt, however, was something we saw, nay we lived, with every fibre of our existence and witnessed wth every spectacle of clarity. The mitzvoh is to see the Oneness of God. The mitzvoh is to experience that every event down here is completely One with the time/space/God contingency. We, the Jewish people, have a collective consciousness which witnessed the overturning of nature and the fine-tuning of God's hand - the miracle and the magical, the justice and the battle. In there, God says - or rather, commands - can He be found. In every crevice and detail, every corner and knaitch. Stretching the expanse from God's throne to each and every Jew's personal history is of the stuff of commands. Bridging the gap and knowing "HE" is ultimatlely, inextricably committed to "ME" is rightly a command. And rightly the first. This means to believe (note: even after witnessing His existance, there's still the commandment to believe) - to make it real and live accordingly. This is "One".

When we see Torah not as a list of dos and don'ts from an exorcised God figure, but rather as a partnership with a God who personally bore His people and continues to birth us as a nation and individual, then - and only then - will we understand the true meaning behind the mitzvos that follow.

Wishing you a lovely Shabbos - not a day off, not a vacation, but rather a day on and full of delicious potential,

Rabbi Lynn and the gang

the Smile of the Sea - parshat beshalach

2008-01-18T14:03:00.000-05:00

Good Shabbos

It’s truly an amazing thing. Our newest addition, the lovely little Yehuda (a Hanukkah baby), has begun to smile. Now we’re fairly convinced these smiles are not mere wind, but real-live smiles (I mean, they could be wind, but it would be rather uncanny for him to wind every time one of us is cooing and gurgling and making absolute morons of ourselves in front of him – and if that’s his reaction to attention we’ve got bigger things to worry about). But what’s important to appreciate here is this: smiles aren’t cheap. These smiles we have to work for, big time. First you have to get his attention. Then you have to keep it. Then you have to find the right frequency of teeth appearing and reappearing in perfect unison with any choice of a happy word. But then, the most amazing thing happens. After all the phony smiles, his lips quiver and reach heavenward, and with a burst of euphoria, we start smiling for real! And THAT kind of smile he recognizes immediately – he heads into spasms of excitement further encouraging our own fit of the giggles and in no time there’s nothing left of our own sense of dignity and import.

The key is that when it’s a real smile, it really works. I once wrote a Seinfeld episode (when I was auditioning for a writing position there) where Jerry and Kramer have bet whether yawns are contagious or not – Kramer insisting it only works when it’s a real yawn – you can’t fake that sort of thing – and then sleep depriving himself for the “showdown” competition of how many people they could each make yawn at the next dinner party, with Elaine keeping score and George refereeing. Smiles have to be real as well. In fact, the blessing Jacob gives his son, Yehudah, is exactly along these lines and a very beautiful idea. Yehudah specifically receives the blessing for kingship, no other tribe can claim it, and yet our Sages point out that no letter zion is used (which means weapon – כלי זיון), but rather the blessing speaks of the whiteness of his teeth. A smile brings out all the potential of a person – it brings them to life – and that’s the goal of a king, to realize the potential of his people. To have the vision and be the catalyst. Try smiling at people and see what happens.

Now, in connection to this Shabbat’s Torah reading, the splitting of the Sea of Reeds (see February 2007’s post as well), there’s a bit of the same dynamic. Getting into the sea wasn’t easy, and it didn’t split immediately. In fact, when Moses prayed for salvation (the entire Egyptian army led by Pharoh himself was closing in with Hollywood drama for sure), God told him to stop – the test was no longer connecting to the Divine, but acting upon it. And that was no easy task, to such an extent that Moses himself was hesitant about his absolute success (could you imagine walking into torrential waters with the conviction of its safety and behaving as if in a kiddie-pool?). One Jew, Nachshon ben Aminadov, pulled through, but not until he was in up to his neck. Sacrifice was something of which they weren’t afraid. But had they incorporated their Divine exodus into action? That was the test – can we act according to what we know to be true, no matter how deceiving the circumstances. Getting the sea to split was our job. Leaving Egypt was God’s. But once it started to go – imagine the euphoria! The Torah points out that the women were so confident that they had brought musical instruments to accompany their assured salvation, and here they began to play.

As a smile opens, so did the sea – beyond what words can describe, superseding any need for ego or pride – simply an explosion of love and euphoria, song and celebration and a matrimonial unity bar none with God and His people, parent and child.

Wishing you all a good Shabbos (and welcome back),

Rabbi Lynn

Brotherly Vengence

2007-11-23T11:56:00.000-05:00

Good Shabbos.

Clearly, he's not a Jewish turkey. I'm thankful for thanksgiving (lowercase t - not the hallmark holiday, but rather merely the concept). There's a Jewish Law which requires us to notify the recipient of our kindness (not charity related where anonymity is key) of our kindness, so that they should have the opportunity to be thankful. The specific scenario recorded is having given someone's child something to eat and intentionally smearing some of the food in a visible place so the parents can notice and come to uncover the kindness done. And then be thankful. During the communal recitation of the central component of public prayer, where Jews connect as a nation after having prayed as individuals, and where we join in the single voice of our appointed chazan, when it comes to the portion of thanks, we each utter our own personal supplement because thanks can only be that - personal. That's the only way it works, when it comes from within. Most significant, however, the last line of the personal thanks in the public forum is thanking the Almighty for creating the opportunity to thank Him. Think about it - it's a fundamental Jewish message.

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 cares 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 thankful thanking to be thankful,

thanks,

Rabbi Lynn (proud member of the tribe of Levi, and humbly one of the privileged MLF turkey basters bringing Torah and Leadership to Philly and beyond)

What's in a name anyway?

2007-11-09T12:46:00.000-05:00

Jacob and Esau. Better known as Yaakov and Eisav in their mother’s tongue. Their names tell the whole story. As we’ve learned before, a Jewish name is not just a name, but rather the essence of the thing. שם Shem means name and sham שם means there – right there’s where you’ll find it. And a thing is not just a thing, but rather only an emanation from God. דבר Davar means thing. Davar means spoken word. And we know how God creates - with His word. So His word is the thing and the thing gets a name and that name is the essence of God’s word in this world. These are the portals through which we crawl in from our end down here and reach into the recesses of the spiritual source. Knowing the name, or rather naming the name is at the heart of the named. For example:

Everything in the world was created with its counterpart. Male and Female mimic the Heavens and the Earth, and everything down below has its very own significant other (everything has a male and female component in creation, everything), signifying the process of e pluribus unum, division becoming One. Adam didn’t have it yet and he searched the expanse of creation. Every animal passed before him and he knew it (even in the biblical sense of knowing, you know?), he knew its essence and by so doing gave it its name. So someone who really understands an elephant, Hebrew, and a specific smattering of Kabala will understand why a פיל (piel) is an elephant. Got it? Can you see it?

Also, when we’re born or have children, parents get Ruach HaKodesh (holy spirit, but that has really terrible connotations for Jews in a Christian world – doesn’t mean anywhere near the same thing). Meaning, the Almighty puts the thought and affinity for the name in your head because He knows the essence of the soul, and its name needs to be its name. No joke. This is normative Judaism. Now, of course, this probably only works for parents who are anyways looking for the kid’s essence in the name and using the soul’s language (not modern Hebrew, sorry) where Rodderick and Winifred are not really options. But nonetheless, the name is achieved through Divine intervention. If you don’t know your Hebrew name, it’s high time to get one.

So too with Yaakov and Eisav. Our Sages tell us that Eisav’s name עשו comes from נעשה na’ase which means done/completed. He was born with so much hair, red hair no less, that he appeared several years older. Why? Because hair grows where we are expressed out in the world. Eisav’s whole existence was as a warrior, conqueror, trapper and man of earthly conquest. His entire being was in the world of action. Once he chose his heretical ways, Yaakov was left with the task of absorbing Eisav’s earthly prowess, poetically played out in his disguising himself with woolen hands as Eisav before his blind father Yitzhok.

Yaakov, on the other hand, is a construct of two ideas. יעקב Yaakov means taking the yud י , the letter representing the most refined spiritual presence in the physical dimension (the least amount of ink and suspended well above ground level), down to the עקב the heel, the bottom and final point of the creation of man, the central figure in and purpose of creation. He was created to bring out the spiritual source and purpose in all of creation, even to the thickened and trodden “heels” of this world, and accomplish total self-perfection.

The battle between Yaakov and Eisav is the essential battle between Jew and pure physicality. While Art Garfinke and Woody Allen sing pagan praises to Manhattan, we might just shudder at the hairy hands of Eisav and the seeming nonexistence of the underlying mystical truths of creation. And that’s from a former fan of Art and Woody’s, NYU film school, all things Yankee, and the Staten Island Ferry.

Wishing you all a very holy Shabbos.

Rabbi Lynn

Chayai Sarah - eight is enough

2007-11-01T22:50:00.000-04:00

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 זז 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 and the merry mlf’ers.

Peace at a price...

2007-10-12T13:44:00.000-04:00

The dove and the olive branch. Ever wondered from where it originated? Not Picaso. But rather from this week’s Torah reading, the story of Noah. After previous unsuccessful attempts to find land, the dove returned with the famous branch showing God’s flood had begun to subside. Life would be renewed. A world of peace could be built upon the ruins of a world already ruined before the first raindrop. The evil, debauchery, thievery and ungodliness which prevailed was no more, and the olive branch was the first to raise it’s head above water and declare victory for God, Noah, righteousness, morality and humankind. Beautiful.

So why was the dove punished? That’s right, something it did was so consequential that its eternal Blessing was forever compromised (so says our tradition). In fact, the language, rather word choice of the Torah seems to describe the branch not as plucked, but rather killed – עלה זית טרף בפיה the olive branch was ‘killed’ in its mouth. Says our sensitive and exacting tradition in the Midrash, “if it were not killed, how many tress may have grown.” It didn’t need the olive, the seed, per se to bring the message of salvation and hope to a desolate world. It should not have been over exuberant in its announcement of success. Rather it should have understood, especially considering the circumstances of potential environmental genocide, the potential of life, its value and its sacredness.

A branch in the dove’s mouth would have been enough of a sign for peace. The olive would have populated the world one by one by one by one, and perhaps we’d be tasting the offspring-oil of the very first fruit that was granted a peaceful world. Our sages teach of exacting care and precision, even when performing a mitzvoh, and appreciation for all of God’s creation.

Good Shabbos,

Rabbi Lynn

One singular sensation....

2007-10-03T15:19:00.000-04:00

On the eve on Shmini Atzeres and Simchas Torah,

“Your departure is difficult,” says God, “Please stay another day, just us alone”. This is the holiday knows as the Eigth-day Gathering, or Shemini Atzeres. We’ve spent quite a long while with Him – preparing during Elul, coronating Him on Rosh Hashana, crying and repenting to Him on Yom Kippur, celebrating Him and unifying existence for 7 days on Succos, and now, just as it’s all over, He wants one more dance. Just us and Him.

We’ve purified ourselves, reinstated the Kingship, wiped the slate clean, and brought the blessing of Oneness into the world. Succos was a time of worldly work. The lulav, esrog, willow and myrtle have been taken to become one – symbolizing the human condition (spine, heart, lips and eyes), the Jewish people (wise & righteous, wise but not righteous, righteous but not wise, and neither wise nor righteous), the world at large (4 different species growing in necessarily different ways). Shaking the lulav in all directions brings unity into a disparate world. You’ve become a venerable lighting rod for God.

Our Sages teach that all the 70 nations receive their life-force through the service of Succos. We as holy, purified intermeditory vessels live in our Succos for an entire week’s worth of spiritual world unification and receive divine protection as would angels on an earthly mission. And when the work is done and we prepare to leave, He calls us back.

“Put down your lulavs, esrogs, release your focus from the created world, leave your divinely guarded Succos dwelling, your protection from all things physical (including temptation). Leave it all behind and cling to your Creator.” Only when a Jew’s work on himself and the world around him is done, only then are we so close that we could reach out a grab Him. That’s why Simchas Torah’s the same day. We do. As best we can, we grab Him, and dance to our hearts’ content.

Enter into the chamber of life where souls delight, where bodies are relegated to glorified chauffeurs, but nothing more. Here, in the halls of synagogues across the world, Jewish souls grab their crown jewel, the sefer Torah, and swing their bodies behind them as they dance away the world.

Good Yom Tov,

Rabbi Lynn

Yom Kippur lesson

2007-09-21T00:04:00.000-04:00

A story I heard from my wife, who heard it from her teacher and possibly right back all the way…

Imagine a man walks into a store, a small market owned and run by an elderly, hard working, proud proprietor. The man lays down a whopping order: five crates of flour, a case of drinks, boxes of canned vegetables, these and thats and more of those – a list miles long. The proprietor sweats, strains, stretches, climbs, shlepps, and brings everything to the front, packs it, carts it and rings it all up. With his hands shaking from exhaustion and dripping with beads of labor, he presents the final bill. The man reached for his wallet only to find it’s gone. He shrugs and whispers, “Sorry.”

“CHUTZPA!!!!!” yells our hero and sends him out with a good boot to the tuchus.

Now, imagine the scenario again, but God runs the store. You walk in and ask for the world: five crates of forgiveness, a case of livelihood, boxes of health and happiness, blessing, compassion, these and thats and more of those – a list miles long. The Almighty strains, stretches, climbs and shlepps and lays everything on your doorstep, packs it, carts it and rings it all up. When you reach for your wallet of merit, you realize it’s gone. You shrug and whisper, “Sorry,” and turn to shuffle away.

“CHUTZPA!!!!!” He yells. “You think I want your money? Take it for free – it’s all yours!”

You see the difference? That’s Yom Kippur. That’s how He (the One with the capital H) relates to us and how we’re supposed to feel.

Yom Kippur’s not necessarily the day for detailed numeration of one iniquities – every day is equally fitting for that. Rather Yom Kippur, the day itself, wipes the slate clean. All one needs is a heartfelt, sincere, deep, rumbling of regret, recognition of wrong and cataclysmic yearning for the spiritual Truth. With that, a divine dust storm of purest white races through our existence and blankets our innermost being with the shrouds of holiness and purity. Yom Kippur is such a gift. Use it well.

May we be well sealed,

Rabbi Lynn

Rosh Hashana, 5768

2007-09-12T00:27:00.000-04:00

Rosh Hashana – innocently mistranslated as “the new year”, more accurately rendered as “the head of the year”, but most deeply understood as “the head makes the difference”.

The word shana שנה shares the same root as לשנות meaning to change. Yes, it marks the new year, and more Jewishly sets the tone for the entire coming year as the head leads the body, but most superbly teaches that our calibration of thought – the power of the mind – most defiantly impacts the system, affecting the greatest change. As the root of a tree supplies the nutrients and all life-giving elements to its branches, leaves and fruit, so too the שכל sechel (Hebrew for mind) touches every output of the human condition. Like trickle-down ethics. The word for thought is הרהור hirhur, the word for pregnant is הרה harah, and the word for mountain is הר har. All thoughts are actions in gestation, on the precipice of making their mountainous debut – a salient visage on the landscape of one’s life.

“I think, therefore I am” is not necessarily the Jewish approach to one’s existence. But “I think, and what I think is what I am”, now that’s more like it. Case in point, one who thinks of one other than one’s spouse at that moment when one most shouldn’t, is reckoned as positively adulterous. Our mind is what separates us from the rest of creation. It is the very place where Divine image is anchored.

The Talmud records the debate as to when the world was created, in Tishrei (the first of which is our Rosh Hashana) or in Nissan (the fifteenth of which is Passover). Nissan is counted as the first month in the Torah, but our tradition renders Tishrei as the first of creation. The great family of Tosefos reconcile the two opinions as complimentary – their tradition had always taught (well before the Talmud) that one reflected the physical creation while the other marked God’s thoughts of creation (anthropomorphisms allowed in this business) – His plan. In the end is the deed, but in thought it exists first. We celebrate the thought as the beginning. We recognize the essential and revel in our spiritual likeness. We plan our year, rather – as God did – create ourselves in thought, and to the extent with which we find conviction, inspiration, humility and devotion, we may stand the chance to see the fruits of such purity of mind and clarity of purpose in the coming year.

To drive the point home, we’ll mention numerous times how Rosh Hashana is the beginning of the creation of man. Those biblical mathematicians have already worked out, then, that creation itself started six days earlier. Correct, but the purpose of creation, its goal and manifestation, is in you. The whole world serves as your canvas and tool belt. In you lies the spark of the Divine, the Infinite. You are where it all begins.

On Rosh Hashana, we create ourselves anew. Using our faculties of hope, ambition, desire, emotion, critique and intellect, we can override the system and change ourselves with atomic proportion. Think. Think hard. Think powerfully. Think humbly. Think Jewishly. Be the head and not the tail, and you’ll wake up to find out that you are the eyes of the world.

כתיבה וחתימה טובה ksiva v’chasima tova – may you be written and sealed for good.

Rabbi Lynn

Prepare to meet your maker...

2007-09-07T01:41:00.001-04:00

This Shabbos, Jews around the world will be reading the Torah portion called Netzavim, named for the first verse which reads, “You are all standing (netzavim) today before the Almighty, your God: your leaders, your tribal heads, your elders, your judges – every person of Israel.” Moses, on his last day, had gathered the nation to deliver his final message, to review the covenant which God had offered and we accepted.

In Kabbalistic writings, the word today, hayom, in the Torah always refers to THE day, Rosh HaShanah. In fact, this portion of the Torah always coincides with the Shabbos before Rosh HaShanah and, in a sense, is alluding to our impending approach to the coming days of judgment where we, as a nation in utter unity, will present ourselves to our Creator for ultimate accounting. There’s an apparent contradiction of sorts, however, in our sentiment towards this holy day of reckoning. Rosh HaShanah is, after all, the day of judgement, followed 10 days later by the day of atonement, and yet the tone of the day is jubilant – there’s no mention of confession, guilt, sin, there’s no heaviness to the service, the liturgy is full of the Almighty and Israel’s praise, the meals are festive and lavish – have we forgotten this is the day of reckoning? Which books are opened? That here we confront our own accountability and the unspeakable finitude of life itself? Doesn’t sound like a party, does it?

True, the prospects are menacing, but these are merely subconscious themes of the day which are more specifically addressed in the preparation before Rosh HaShanah, and the 10 days following until Yom Kippur. Yet the day itself, one where the entire nation presents itself for judgment, bespeaks a far greater message. One where all joy surpasses fear. We stand as one with the Almighty in fulfilling His will and bringing the world to its completion. This is the mission we accepted, and, more importantly, for which we were accepted. Yes, we have fallen short, and yes, there is much to repair. But the covenant itself, the mission and intimate partnership with God, is tremendous cause for celebration. It is precisely at the time of reckoning, when we realize the extent of our responsibility, with Whom we partner, the mission in all its grandeur, and the privilege of participation, no matter how difficult.

It is said that the biggest blow to all our spiritual enemies - those which tempt our resolve and subpoena our every move in the Heavenly tribunal – is the very fact that we walk into the courtroom on our own volition, in perfect acceptance and appreciation of what judgment really means. They’ve been trying to put us one trial, but we beat them to it and volunteered ourselves. The Jewish People rises well above its simple, fallible, and ultimately forgivable humanity. Rosh Hashana is the joy of getting into the night club of all night clubs, and even though what lies beyond the great velvet ropes upstairs may be daunting, critical, punishing and painful, the entry is so so sweet. Praiseworthy are we who stand in judgment, for the privilege of being chosen for the job.

Fruits of Labor, Labor of Love

2007-08-31T14:59:00.000-04:00

Good Shabbos everyone!

Ah. Things are turning so darn collegiate around here it’s transforming. Invasion is more what comes to mind. I’m actually reminded of the Catskills – void of Jews all year round UNTIL (fade in the Jaws soundtrack)… So too here. A tranquil campus where leaves have the right to rustle and brag about it, is now giving way to oversized Target bags, family wagons (getting hard to tell the difference between the suv’s and the regular cars, especially in the lexus/Mercedes range of things), stereo amp testings, and parents parading their Penn paraphernalia. Yes, the result of a lifetime’s hard work – sending the kids off to college (no inexpensive endeavor). So what would Judaism say about seasonal watershed events of accomplishment and gratitude? Funny you should ask….

The Torah portion being read this Freshman Shabbat (apparently a great draw for male upperclassmen as well….) is Ki Savo. Don’t read the second half because it’s a buzz kill. Of course, it’s wildly relevant, difficult to process, gnawing to the heartstrings, but frightfully matter-of-fact and certainly in need of understanding. These are the infamous curses of the Torah. Those of you who remember our discussions on suffering please apply what you’ve learned to this understanding, and those of you who’ve forgotten – time for a refresher. But rather the beginning of the portion marks the mitzvoh of bringing one’s first fruits to Jerusalem. The literal fruits of one’s labor, the sweat of one’s brow, the choicest of choicest are brought from far and near to the center of the universe as a declaration of our faith, unity, and utter service of the Almighty. Every morsel of food bears the insignia of an incorporated partnership between God and man – Sinai #613 – and as we reap our harvests and revel in the gift of life itself, we display our gratitude to the ‘Source of all goodness and life”. As expected.

However, the mitzvoh is thoroughly incomplete if not accompanied by a declaration. Even if brought with a song and a smile, our gift baskets are still lacking a vital organ – a declaration! No, not a declaration of subservience and submission. Not even a declaration of faith or appeasement. We bring our fruits with a declaration, an understanding of the entirety of Jewish history and struggle, purpose and perspective. We use the moments of greatest joy and appreciation to mark our place along the timeline of the Jewish people. Any event so spectacular, so fundamental, if left in isolation, is utterly wasted. There are no singular moments of accomplishment, even of gratitude. But rather we are one chronology, one entity, and in the Almighty’s eyes, unbound by time and physical limitation.

As we endeavor to begin a new year, as we set exorbitant goals because we believe in ourselves and joyfully trust those who believe in us, let’s find the appropriate map upon which to chart our position – to put this great transitional time of learning and growth into our historical and spiritual perspective and thereby intern in our hearts a love and appreciation of life, our talents, our blessings and our Source.

Graduation for the byrds: Emor

2007-05-04T09:40:00.000-04:00

“To everything, turn turn turn, there is a season, turn turn turn, and a time for every purpose under heaven.”

One thing’s for sure, when the Byrds wrote it, they didn’t have Forest Gump in mind. And they most certainly didn’t take their cue from this week’s Torah portion either. But, as a fitting note to school’s end and the very rare instance where the English language gets it right – commencement – the lessons gleaned from the Torah here are priceless. “These are the moadim…” Sorry, but I can’t translate it. There’s a word in Hebrew for time – zman, and festival – chag. But this one, moadim, is elusive (I’ve seen it translated as appointed festivals, in contradistinction to the “regular” festivals – hmmm….). Suffice it to say, this passage begins the detailed list of all the stations along the Main Line of the Jewish year. Come to think of it, “stations” is not a bad stab at what’s really going on. A time for this, a time for that – no station repeats itself and each is fundamentally necessary for the journey. Pesach, Shavous, Rosh HaShanah, Yom Kippur, Succos and some of the more “local” stops, Hannukah, Purim, Tu B’Shvat, Tu B’Av, Lag B’Omer, Tisha B’av and back again and again, turn turn turn.

Every end is always a beginning. Every measure of time is only that moment which necessarily connects the previous moment to the next. But there exists the option of steering each moment in any number of directions creating a continuum of either good or evil, right or wrong. “Time” means that it once began, and as certainly as it began, it mush finish. There is a goal to its creation, or it loses all reason to exist. Each moment along the way is either calibrated towards Time’s intended end, or by definition most callously diverted. But there are stops along the way – stations and pit stops to “freshen up” – priceless opportunities to tap into the regiment of the human condition and well the depths of the spirit. No station’s the same, and none is superfluous. Each has its own language, culture, nuance and message and is inextricably connected to the whole system which proudly presents itself a year later for revisitation. These are the “stations” that God gave the Jews – festivals of time and spirit and Divine awakenings.

Through a year, and back again, in and out of weeks, and back again... Some years we’re at Penn, others not. But the “stations” are consistent and it’s there where we’ll measure up the muscle and maturity we garner through life. The Almighty created many different components of time – hours, days, weeks, months, seasons, years, generations – all which require understanding, definition, appreciation and dexterity. We progress in concentric circles, spiraling through life revisiting each and every station, but as a different being each and every time. May we all continue to grow and reach the milestones we’re meant to reach, and may we have the good sense and fortune to recognize when we’ve actually met them.

A blessed beginning to all,

Rabbi Lynn

Have a Cow! (Ki Sisa)

2007-03-09T15:02:00.000-05:00

How can it be that the entire Jewish people could have spat back the Torah and Mount Sinai in the face of God by worshiping the Golden Calf just minutes after a commitment and revelation unparalleled in all of creation? Because we didn’t. That’s right, the whole mutinous golden-calf thing, the way we’ve been force-fed it, didn’t happen like that. Come on, we’ve been accused of many things in our illustrious history – fifth-columnists, shylocks, dual-nationalists, stingy, power-hungry, ugly, vermin-like – but never, never stupid. A serious reading of this week’s Torah portion reveals it all. The entire episode begins by relating the source of all the problems – “When Moses delayed on the mountain…” using a very unique word for delay: Boshaish. Our Sages quickly point out that the word really means “on the sixth” and that Moses had told the Jews he would return from his executive meeting with You-Know-Who after 40 days on the sixth hour. Well, their calculations got a bit unsynchronized and their nerves a bit frayed and within moments of realizing that He may not be coming back down (with no less than helpful pyrotechnics by the free-will-balancing-powers-that-be turning day into night and night into day and giving the Jews glimpses of what could have been Moses’ casket), the Jews quickly searched for his replacement. That’s right, not God’s replacement, but rather Moses’. You see, they had never known this plague-wielding, Torah-giving, nation-birthing relationship with God without the intermediary services of Moses (which they all verified with complete prophetic clarity at Mt. Sinai). He was not the prophet, but rather the prophesy itself (think about the difference). Perhaps their entire salvation and future was predicated on such a relationship. Perhaps “nationhood”, which was only so recently introduced into the world, was only viable with this connection (nationhood being a real existence outside of the individual where each individual makes up a part of the greater whole which has its own parameters and dimensions and destiny and deal with God). What were they to do?

On the verge of world collapse, starvation and every ill that could be imagined in a God-world gone bad, the Jews sought the proper replacement through which to re-boot. A cow was not a substitute for God. The calf was actually a humble choice of middle-man based on the vision recorded in Ezekiel when the Jews crossed the Red Sea. Of the four visions that God presented them – those things which represent His intermediary interaction with the world – they chose the most benign herbivore and a humble version as well, a calf. In fact, they really chose nothing, just threw a lump of gold into the cauldron and the calf appeared! They were looking for a leader, not a new God. Check the text for verification – the Jews cry to create “gods” (a choice of words which can mean many things, including “judges”) to go before them because Moses has not returned, Aaron declares the calf-festivities a festival for God (the right one, no mistaking it), Moses beseeches God against annihilation (and idol worship would clearly be grounds for it with Moses’ full acquiescence), and Moses only smashed the tablets when he witnessed the extent of the rejoicing. It should be mentioned, however, that none of the women, nor the tribe of levi (those of the priestly kind and the one’s devoted to full-time Torah study) participated one iota. Yeah! (I’m a levi and my wife is a woman – collectively we’re thrilled). So to set the matter straight, the Jews did not create a new god, nor really rebelled against God other than following a unstable faithfulness away from their Creator and rushing to do that which was not in their jurisdiction. They created an intermediary where one was not necessary. And theirs, as opposed to Moses himself, would ultimately distance the Jewish nation from their God, not bring them closer. In a sense, they created Christianity. Moses was a different story altogether (the prophesy, not the prophet remember). The intimacy between Jew and God could not, should not and would not be compromised. Yes, they failed the test. Just let’s be sure which one. Got it?

Good Shabbos.

Love is in the air...

2007-02-16T02:45:00.000-05:00

Good Shabbos,

Parshas Mishpatim (the Torah segment called “ordinances”) - a laundry list of tort laws, marital laws, by-laws and more laws (including sorcery!). What a wonderful parsha. For those of us who spent years in yeshivas, this is the bread we’ve been raised on. All the subtleties, nuances, details, applications, manifestations, incarnations of God’s Law. Each word rings with hours and days and weeks of Talmuldic discourse, reams of commentaries, plumbed depths of philosophy and logic. The familiar smells of home, the tastes that linger and remind us of the place to which we yearn to return.

The parsha begins, “And these are the ordinances”. As we all learnt in grammar school – never, never begin a sentence with “and”, let alone a whole book, so to speak – except, of course, if you’re God. When He says it, He means to connect this entire teaching to the previous – not merely a run-on, but inextricably intertwined. Just as the previous parsha (10 commandments) was spoken and given on Har Sinai, so too were all these details. God’s world is like pointillism: the greatness of the big picture is only a result of an appreciation of the details, while the details themselves have no meaning other than their place in the larger context. Details, details, itty-bitty nitty-gritty beautiful, gorgeous details…

The measure of love is in the details. Go ask anyone who has navigated the labyrinths of marriage successfully and thus finds him/herself enveloped in love and oneness to sketch a picture their better half – what you’ll get are details and more details, well beyond the physical appearance. An open-ended story with infinite discoveries. And only a true lover will relish them – every last one to the nth degree.

The Torah is a love story. The Sages liken the revelation on Har Sinai to a wedding, with the mountain being our Chuppah – God and the Jewish people as bride and groom. I would be so bold to say that Egypt was the courtship, The Red Sea splitting the engagement, Har Sinai the marriage, and Mishpatim the honeymoon. These laws and intricacies, sometimes blamed as the source of ultimate frustration and abandonment of Torah, are actually the very keys to marrying the metaphysical. Judaism stands alone in striving to find God in the details – which really translates into bringing the spiritual in the physical, giving every inch of life and all its scenarios a connection to its source, and discovering holiness in the seemingly otherwise profane.

Wishing you a “loverly” Shabbos (catch the My Fair Lady reference?),

Rabbi Lynn et al.

Miracles on the Mount

2007-02-09T01:14:00.000-05:00

Good Shabbos,

In this week’s Torah reading, we encounter the experience of Mount Sinai and the giving of the Ten Commandments (a wildly unfair misnomer – ten statements, actually, which included 14 commandments!). While there are oodles to be said, I’ll pick only one quick detail which probably wasn’t covered in Hebrew school. When Moshe came down with the luchos (tablets – which, by the way, weren’t curved on top to “look like tablets” but were rather square), all the Aseres HaDibros (10 “statements”) were engraved into the stone – all the way through to the other side! This would seem no remarkable feat except for two miracles: first, no matter which side you perceived, you could read them perfectly (get it? It was engraved through to the other side, where it should have read the same thing backwards, but somehow, miraculously it wasn’t – think about it), second, the Hebrew letters for M sofit and samach are circular (ם and ס) – so how was the little piece of stone in the middle held in place? Miraculously, of course. And judging by the weight (literal, not figurative) the Talmud ascribes to these tablets, they basically carried themselves (only through the merit of Moshe). If Vendyl Jones (wikipedia him, or try www.vendyljones.org.il) gets his way and finds the ark he’s been looking for, all will be revealed.

The Midrash says that everything stood still when God revealed Himself. No leaf rustled, no cloud budged, no bird chirped, not a millipede’s leg twitched. Nothing in the created universe gave any individual expression at the point of God’s infusion of the infinite into the finite, for nothing finite could thus exist. We’re taught that our souls left our bodies when He spoke – in a sense we died and were resurrected – because, once again, nothing physical could exist – only the soul could interact. Our experience was nothing short of the highest prophesy – a 100% clarity of God’s existence and purpose and Moshe’s infallibility as transmitter/intermediary – not to mention the Aseres HaDibros. God created the world with Ten statements, there are ten corresponding expressions and definitions of love/joy in the world (simcha, sasson, gila, rina, ditzh, chedva, ahava, achva, shalom, reiyus), Ten Commandments, and ten emanations of His essence (ask Madonna about that one). In these Aseres HaDibros, all was revealed, all was understood – the entirety of Torah is encapsulated within them, and at our deepest point of self – our soul – this was momentarily crystal clear. Our tradition informs us that we were all present at Sinai. Each and every soul. With this we are eternally bound (yes, I appreciate the resistance to such a statement), and yet with this we are promised to find within us, at the end of our search and discovery of self – there in the pockets of our own spiritual core – a resounding oneness and love for God, His creation, our mission and the Jewish people.

Good Shabbos,

Rabbi Lynn and the minstrels of MLF

the Superbowl of Faith

2007-02-02T00:54:00.000-05:00

I’m sure most pulpit Rabbis will be racking their brains to connect this weekly Torah portion to the super bowl. Saints don’t really have much clout in this religion and bears were just a minor participant in the plague of wild beasts read two weeks ago. Thankfully, I have no pulpit. What I will tell you, however, is a little story about Nachshon ben (son of) Aminadov. When the Jewish people dramatically found themselves pinned between the sea of reeds and the marauding army of Pharoh, there were few options. Moshe prayed, but found his prayers rebuffed by God as ineffectual without the partnership of action. So in jumped Nachshon ben Aminadov, up to his neck, and the Red Sea split. This begs the following question, “where was Moshe? Why didn’t he jump in first?” Surely, if what was expected of the Jewish people was a great act of self-sacrifice (cf. Masada), although we may not be able to conjure up such notions of martyrdom, that generation was undoubtedly capable. They would have clearly given their lives to sanctify the glory of the Almighty. Rather, there must have been another calling. The test was the DNA of all of God’s challenges – the very question of human existence: do we have the wherewithal to live according to what we know to be true. It wasn’t enough to jump into the torrential deep. The test was whether we could enter the raging waters with utter calm and conviction of the Almighty’s providence and salvation. This is the great test of Jewish faith. Could we internalize and make manifest all that we experienced with every plague, every miracle in Egypt? Did we allow God’s interaction to penetrate our thick skin and render our hearts his? Could we take a spiritual experience and live it to its fullest? In that regard, Nachshon took the helm. He recognized more clearly than anyone else what was expected and possessed the mettle to comply.

The Midrash comments that the Jewish people were redeemed from Egypt without any condition, needing no merit of their own. The prosecuting forces in the spiritual heights were allowed no argument. But at the Red Sea, their complaints were heard – did the Jews merit such a miracle, such a salvation? Why, they had succumbed to idol worship no different than the Egyptians. This was clearly a test of our resolve, clearly an opportunity for the Jewish people to prove their distinction, their repentance and their greatness. From the depths of iniquity, greatness can rise. When we find it and live it, the world will bend to serve us. As the Midrash records, every body of water in the world split at that time – your lemonade, your bathtub, your water-ice – it split. At the point of partnership between the Almighty and His bride, the natural laws are redefined to reflect the spiritual truths of creation.

Wishing you a wonderful Shabbos,

Rabbi Lynn & the MLF gang

Free - to do what I want?

2007-01-26T14:45:00.000-05:00

Hello and Good Shabbos,

I just wanted to share a quick idea with you all as we set our sights on the upcoming Passover festival. This week’s Torah portion, Bo, chronicles the last of the plagues and the moments and Mitzvos 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 – the Jewish staple diet that’s popular in the spring. Most people don’t however realize that just days before 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. Why do we “need” both Matzhos? Great question, but not for now. What we do see, however, is that before we physically experienced freedom, we had to taste it, literally.

Abraham was purported (by the Torah, in fact, which generally turns purporting into undeniable evidence, but that’s also not for now) to have eaten Matzoh on the 15th of Nissan (Passover day), yet wasn’t he 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. You see, when we choose the color of our brand new Porsche, we think we’re actually choosing when really we’ve been bought and sold before we woke up (they don’t spend billions on advertising that doesn’t work, trust me). The Egyptians were able to rationalize their autonomy and free-choice with only the most limited option available to them – standing or sitting. We’re that utterly ignorant of the real definition of freedom. But, by the grace of God, we, the Jews, have the answer – that which was to be found in the most sublime and least-expected of places – yes, I mean Matzoh.

Back to the basics. No leaven (ego), no sweetner (lusts/passions), just flour and water cooked almost immediately upon mixture. 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 – then…spread away!

Wishing you a beautiful Shabbos and a speedy personal redemption,

Rabbi Lynn and the MLF gang

Good Shabbos

2006-12-01T12:40:00.000-05:00

10th Kislev, 5767

On the heels of thanksgiving, I wanted to point out an interesting correlation between the Hebrew for Turkey (the bird and the country) הודו, and the root of the word for thanks (תודה) which is simply, הוד. Do you think whoever invented the turkey/thanks connection knew this?

Now that Hanukkah’s around the corner – it’s not just a holiday, but a season, or rather an experience of darkening days and a pressing, almost claustrophobic need for light – I’ve got a few questions for you to consider. Firstly, we all know the oil lasted for eight days when it should have lasted for only one, and that our holiday celebrates these eight days of miracles, but the obvious question is that the first day wasn’t a miracle at all! One day of oil was perfectly non-miraculous, so why do we have eight days and not seven (yes, our tradition explicitly says the eight days correlate to eight miracles, so to speak). Secondly, what’s the difference between the dreidel of Hanukkah and the grogger of Purim? Better yet, what’s the significance of one being spun top down and the other bottom up (meaning: either from the top or from the bottom)? If you’re sure it’s nonsense or at best coincidence, think again! (you MLFII participants hopefully can remember the answers, right?). You can log-in your suggestions below (comments) and I’ll post the answers next week.

You all are familiar, I assume, with the saga of Jacob’s being duped out of his true love, Rachel, and having his scoundrel brother-in-law, Lavan, substitute Leah in her place. Okay, under the Chuppah, women customarily wear a veil (some thicker than others, obviously) and the dancing’s always separate at the religious ones, but how did the duplicity survive the bedroom?! We see clearly in the Torah, in this weeks portion, that Jacob knew his wife and only in the morning recognized the problem and complained to Lavan. The plot thickens when we read the Midrash (commentary) explaining that Jacob and Rachel were well aware of Lavan’s plans and had developed an intricate system of coded identification (turning on the lights was not an option – its reasoning can be discussed another time, but I’m sure with a little thought you could work out the direction). What’s also amazing is that later in the Torah, Leah accuses Rachel of having stole her husband, meaning her exclusivity with him, when he ultimately married Rachel afterwards – Leah was convinced she was always the intended first. But the answer lies in Rachel’s response – or lack thereof. Rachel’s sensitivity to her sister’s honor was so great that once Lavan had shown his unbending and deceptive intent to marry-off Leah first, Rachel never let Leah sense that this was anything but the expected procedure and even handed Leah over the codes in a way which convinced Leah that Jacob had merely sent her, Rachel, as their messenger. Through her whole life, Leah never knew the truth (all you romantics needn’t worry – Jacob loved Leah very much nonetheless). Jacob as well showed the same sensitivities, only complaining to Lavan, but never to Leah – imagine his composure when awakening to find not his intended, and yet still mustering up an unflinching, totally convincing portrayal of normalcy and joy. I’ve always been inspired by this display of deep respect for another’s honor.

Wishing you a wonderful Shabbat,

Rabbi Lynn

Marching against God?

2006-11-09T22:56:00.000-05:00

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 still adorns his wall, amidst the tapestry of photos hiding any trace of anything else. 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. Anger? It’s understandable. But so is God.

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

Good Shabbos,

Rabbi Lynn
& the merry minsters of MLF

Lech Lecha

2006-11-08T16:15:00.000-05:00

Good Shabbos,

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. I will try to elucidate these battle-lines from the Torah’s perspective, God-willing, in the near future.

Wishing you all a wonderful Shabbos,

Rabbi Lynn and the MLF gang.

Yom Kippur

2006-09-28T22:31:00.000-04:00

Erev Yom Kippur 5767

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

Shana Tova

2006-09-21T23:42:00.000-04:00

Erev Rosh Hashana, 5677

Just a quick note wishing you a healthy, happy, sweet new year. As we celebrate the birthday of the world, the beginning of God’s handiwork, there are two very important points to consider. Firstly, this is the day that man was created (male and female as one two-sided being) and not really the beginning of creation. And secondly, the Talmud and its major commentators explain that really the world was physically created in Nissan (the month of Passover), while having only been ‘thought of’, as it were, in Tishrei (this month). So why are our festivities so poorly timed? Certainly, the proponents of modern thought would cringe at the ego-centricity of our version of creation, right?

The action is always the result of the thought. We celebrate the day when the focus, the purpose of creation, was born – in thought. Thought always centers around the end goal first, and from there the blue-prints are drawn. Each of us, all of us, as creations of divine purpose and spiritual phenomena, we are all the central, critical focal point of creation – the very place where heaven meets earth, soul touches body, and life, as we know it, is born. This should by no means give rise to misplaced arrogance, but rather sublime humility in the face of our Creator and mission.

May we all be signed and sealed for a deeply enriching year of life.

Your friend,

Shmuel Lynn

United we Stand

2006-09-15T13:16:00.000-04:00

Elul 22, 5766

Good Shabbos,

This week communities around the world will be reading the Torah portion called Netzavim, named for the first verse which reads, “You are all standing (netzavim) today before the Almighty, your God: your leaders, your tribal heads, your elders, your judges – every person of Israel.” Moses, on his last day, had gathered the nation to deliver his final message, to review the covenant between which God had offered and we accepted. In kabbalistic writings, the word today, hayom, in the Torah always refers to the day, Rosh HaShanah. In fact, this portion of the Torah always coincides with the Shabbos before Rosh HaShanah and, in a sense, is alluding to our impending approach to the coming day of judgment. It is before the Almighty that we, as a nation in utter unity, present ourselves to our Creator for ultimate accounting. There’s an apparent contradiction of sorts in our sentiment towards this holy day of reckoning. Rosh HaShanah is, after all, the day of judgement, then followed 10 days later by the day of atonement, and yet the tone of the day is jubilant – there’s no mention of confession, guilt, sin, there’s no heaviness to the service, the liturgy is full of the Almighty and Israel’s praise, the meals are festive and lavish – have we forgotten this is the day of reckoning? Which books are opened? That here we confront our own accountability and the unspeakable finitude of life itself?

All these are true, and they are underlying themes of the day which, however, are generally addressed in preparation for Rosh HaShanah and immediately following until Yom Kippur. Yet the day itself, one where the entire nation presents itself for judgment, bespeaks a far greater message. We stand as one with the Almighty in fulfilling His will and bringing the world to its completion. This is the mission we accepted, and, more importantly, for which we were accepted. Yes, we have fallen short, and yes, there is much to repair. But the covenant itself, the mission and intimate partnership with God, is tremendous cause for celebration. It is precisely at the time of reckoning, when we, in pristine oneness, present ourselves to Him - with no doubt whatsoever that the ultimate covenant would ever, ever be called into question – for the greatest privilege of all and thorough recognition of our service and raison-d’etre. And there’s one more plus – it’s a family business where love is the undisputed champion and never compromised. You could hear all of this even in the melodies especially reserved for the day.

It is said the biggest blow to all the metaphysical forces which stand contrary to our spiritual perfection - those which on the one hand create for us free-will and on the other hand attempts to subpoena our every move in the Heavenly tribunal – is the very fact that we walk into the courtroom on our own volition. In perfect unity and appreciation of what judgment really means. The forest is greater than the trees. The Jewish people rises well above its simple, fallible, and ultimately forgivable humanity.

Wishing you good Shabbos,

Rabbi Lynn

response to gary erlbaum

2005-04-05T14:40:00.000-04:00

i think many important points were raised this week during mr. erlbaums's discussion. what is the "obligation" of the jewish cause? adam raised the obvious question of how can we value one struggle over the next, even to the extent of saving one jew over three non jews. elisheva gave the poignant answer that no one would "morally" fault the saving of one's brother,sister,mother,etc. over a stranger. no one is necessarily making a qualitative statement about the value of one life over another, rather there does exist some means by which we can define our concentration of attention and action.

one may argue that there are plenty of non-jews to care for their concerns, but by mere virtue of the fact that they would not as quickly care for the jewish concerns, it is fundamentally our responsibility. we all know that were israel attacked by the arab nations, we would feel far more for the israeli plight than a rebellion in the ivory coast or uzbekistan. is that wrong? are we a people likened to a family? is that just social conditioning but false, or is the apologetics for the universality of humanity simply an intellectual game we play because we're in college and we can. and of course, the issue was raised that philosophically, we believe that the most successful way to truly right the world is through the perfection of the jewish people, and thus fulfilling the pre-requisites for being "a light unto the nation".

i mentioned that we all need to answer these questions for ourselves and find our own voices. perhaps the dialectic of friends could help strengthen that search.

personally, i remember having a dilemma which sent my liberal sensitivities off the deep end. i was in l.a. during the riots. my friend and i sat on the roof of his house, his gun fully loaded (i, of course, was more frightened of the gun than the riot)and watched as the mass of rioters made its way up la brea blvd, burning shopping plazas and looting stores. we had an interesting discussion about how we completely intellectually understand their predicament - the hatred, the oppression, the angst, pent-up frustrations, etc.. we would have been sure to write a phenomenal sociology report and would have otherwise strongly identified with their plight (even invoking similarities to the jewish historical experience) and done our uptmost to actively contribute to bettering south central LA. BUT, if one of those blacks or mexicans stepped one little toe on this property, we would have put a bullet between his eyes. that simple. they were not interested in being invited in for a cup of coffee and have us explain our liberal jewish views and love for them as human beings. we were only given one option - save ourselves, or die trying to be liberal. i hated being in that position, but there was no way out. i think that's when i began to first fulfill churchill's dictum.

women in judaism - a response to rabbi reinman

2005-03-30T14:59:00.000-05:00

it's like this... part 2 of rabbi reinman's talk was not exactly on the menu. the issue of understanding the woman in judaism is something ruthi and i had planned to address ourselves in the coming weeks. there is no question that the misconceptions are great, and furthermore no doubt that anyone will find the traditional understanding to be thoroughly refreshing, radically surprising (considering the "reputation"), and doggedly iconoclastic towards today's western ideology. this concept is so fundamental to the future of jewish leadership because it is here that the battles will be waged and where judaism stands to make one of the greatest contributions to the salvation of western dignity and thought. all social injustice and depravity may just possibly stem from the visceral and/or outright objectification of woman in today's world. when any woman's success will be predicated on her sexual prowess, therein lies the destruction of person, the nullification of true human dignity, which invariably spreads its poison to every crevice of social injustice. one look at the film and music "role models" of the female genre should be cause for an outcry of epic proportion. where are the voices? where is the uproar? i don't doubt that even women with the most far-removed aspirations and solid critical credentials, in pursuit of the finest and most noble of professional positions, will to some degree fall prey to such pressures and expectations as well. judaism cries, wails, screams, pleads and protests every fiber of objectification.

on a second front, judaism seeks to revalue the very greatness of woman's instinct and potential. in a world where education is undervalued and placed in the care of others, women are left with no "legitimate" option other than those available to men, namely professional, success orientated endeavors. the mother-by-choice is something unappreciated and possibly completely snubbed by all progressive western thought. judaism has proven explicitly that it values education more than any other culture. our history of literacy and equality in education, the communal and national commitment to free access of knowledge and continued study has shaped the very fiber of humanity. and even today, statistically we rise far above the normative expectations. but know, that the essential fundamentals of education are those of morality, spirituality, faith, and vision in the completion of man and the world according to the strict prescription of God's Torah. our synagogues and armies are worthless if jewish values and dreams are not being transmitted to the coming generation. herein lies the very essence of our survival. there is no reason for jews to wage war if the home, that bastion of jewish thought and life, cannot be preserved. we fight for the survival of Torah, which means "teaching", literally. we fight for the right of jewish parents to live and cultivate their judaism in order to successfully ensure its transmission. what greater honor is there than that of building a generation, raising jews to be jews with the strength and conviction to tackle the world on God's behalf - for the sake of liberty, truth, morality and holiness. to accept with dignity at all costs the honor of being that light unto the nations, the conscience of God (as hitler wrote) even on pain of death. such a task is so crucial, that the Almighty imbued His creation with special dispensation particular to this cause. this is woman. He created her innately as a master of time. She would effortlessly synchronize with the temporal nature of the physical world in such a way as to free her from a physical burden so that her energies could be better placed on maintaining His Torah. A woman has natural rhythmic, cyclical biological realities ("clocks") to her makeup. She'll synchronize her cycles with the tides, with the moon, with other women. She has no need to "conquer" time in this world, for she is above it's clutches. consequently, all time-bound mitzvos (commandments) in the Torah do not apply to her. if mitzvos are God given bridges between the physical and spiritual worlds, she needs none. she will not have the obligations to master time, and therefore, while men will be enjoined to first conquer time before coming close to God (praying at three specific set times a day and performing many rituals in the process of "removing" himself from a "burdensome" world), a woman is left to effortlessly communicate with the Almighty at her leisure, once a day. Her position of greater spiritual proximity to God is a "technological advance" in the created world (she was created last, as creation progressed towards greater manifestations of divinity and perfection). and this very innovation is precisely why she is chosen to manage the most central of all tasks: the building and maintenance of the continuity of God's teachings and the jewish people, its carrier.

in like fashion, as rabbi reinman pointed out, she is also exempt from "obligations" that may severely compromise this task (the obligation of prayer amongst a quorum, the obligation of public service, the obligation of legal proceedings, the obligation of legal exegesis and redaction, etc.). she was granted an intellect classified as "bina yisera" (an intuitive, introspective and absorbing intellectual faculty, greater than man's) and was released from the shackles of antiseptic, epistemic logic (she has it, of course, but not to the degree of man). this further contributes to infusing value and faith into the jewish people. wherever there was severe crisis in jewish history, the women consistently carried the jewish people through (during the slavery in egypt, at the shores of the red sea, by the golden calf, the victories of hannukah - yehudis - and purim - ester, etc. - see me for details). this is a direct consequence of woman's particular physiological and spiritual uniqueness. this is not some compensating pc spin, but rather, thoroughly borne out in jewish scripture and practice - find any great Torah jew and simply ask him about his wife.

it's now 2am and i'm bleary-eyed. i'm allowing myself to write this and send it because i assume that we've developed enough of a relationship that my intentions will be trusted and real discourse can follow. while i may have wished the topic could have been presented a bit differently, i am prepared to go to all lengths to see this one understood clearly. rabbi reinman made astute points about the value of education/child rearing vis a vis secular culture, the ability of woman to accomplish both, but not one at the expense of the other, and my wife would argue that there is ultimately no greater fulfillment of and challenge to a woman's strengths, intellect included, than raising jewish kids and building a jewish home. there is nothing in traditional jewish thought which precludes women from pursuing careers and affecting the outside world as well. but to be essentially discouraged from successfully undertaking the greatest challenge of all is deicide. the jewish home is elixir of life. we've just forgotten what it's supposed to look like, how essential it is, and how great it can be.

yours,
shmuel

an after-thought to the class on "love"

2005-03-04T15:22:00.000-05:00

I just came across a very beautiful idea which encapsulates much of what we were discussing last night. Rabbi Shimshon Raphael Hirsh comments on why the Jewish people are likened to fish and water so often, specifically in matters of intimacy. Just like the sea on the surface is monotonous and in no way indicative of what lives beneath, and yet far below the surface lives a gorgeous world of intricate systems and harmonies, so too the Jewish people. Modesty dictates our outward persona, but underneath is a world rich in the colors and beauties of life beyond imagination. It would border on crass to elucidate many details in an email, but you should know that with tremendous ingenuity and consideration does the Torah approach the world of physical intimacy.

I've listened to my class again and felt there was one point that should have been more supported. The view of love is a reality, that it is a consequence of selfless giving. And marriage is the ultimate opportunity to maximize this, to imitate the goodness of the Almighty. But there are gradations of that love, and especially as we enter into a marriage, we are expected to "feel" very strongly about the other person - their strengths, sensitivities, beauty, idiosyncrasies, etc.. If that is called "love" in the vernacular, then so be it. But what "love" is capable of being would so far surpass it, like diamonds to pennies, that to call anything else by its name would be a horrible loss.

a footnote to the class on pleasure....

2005-02-15T20:25:00.000-05:00

For what it's worth, I was, myself, thrown off kilter by the talk and feel my own class was not as focused as I would have liked, particularly the second half. I wanted to impress upon you that contrary to what we may have assumed would be the goal of creation, the Jewish vision is about pleasure. A very beautiful pleasure who's ultimate manifestation will be experienced as a consequence of our success in this lifetime. The task that has been asked of us will not only provide us with the deepest, most spiritual pleasures in this life (ranging from dignity, accomplishment, self-control and wisdom to the physical pleasures of intimacy, true love, beauty, harmony, food and wine, etc.), but will also be the very fabric of an exponentially tremendous pleasure in the world of reward. This is how, historically, great Jews have seen the world. This was second nature to them. Mitzvot are the means through which we connect ultimate spirituality and truth to the world of physicality, thereby attaining true happiness here, and ultimate pleasure there. But the point that was left unsaid was as follows: although the end goal is there, that's not our focus at all. In the entire Torah, there is not one mention of the world to come. It has nothing to do with us here and to focus on it would be detrimental to our involvement in the physical world. We're meant to know about it and be inspired by it, for sure, which was the goal last night. We're meant to understand that the Jewish people have always been able to strongly rely on the promised reward of a successful life lived. But our focus must be clearly localized, directed and actualized. We don't pine for "there", rather we bring "there" here.

shmuel

Welcome

2005-02-14T20:33:00.000-05:00

welcome all to our blog. i've decided to try posting some of my journals to spark a few more open discussions on some of the topics we've discussed on the maimonides program this spring. looking forward to your collective contributions...

shmuel