The Power of Sacrifice
Each year, when the weekly Torah reading approaches the Book of Leviticus (Vayikra), I struggle with Vayikra’s focus on animal sacrifice. Vayikra seems foreign to contemporary sensibilities. We buy our meat in groceries and shoes in boutiques, never witnessing the actual slaughter of the animals we consume, and as a consequence, the sight of any animal blood makes us queasy. The thought that this gory act is to be done in a sacred place with sacred clergy and sacred goals seems too peculiar a ritual to inspire our 21st century hearts. Many who are uncertain about their understanding of Vayikra take solace in Maimonides’ fascinating (and controversial) remarks considering animal sacrifice to be a less than perfect form of worship, allowed only as a concession to the cultural norms of the biblical period. If sacrifices were somewhat deprecated by Maimonides, we think, it’s not so bad if we can’t understand sacrifices either.
But contemporary discomfort with Vayikra goes beyond PETA-style concerns; there’s something deeper at play here. The Biblical ideal of sacrifice demands absolute dedication, with the animal standing as a proxy for our very selves; each sacrifice is a miniature replay of the grand drama of the akeidah, (the binding of Isaac), with the owner playing Isaac’s role. And this type of selfless devotion is foreign to a zeitgeist built around personal identity.
Identity is critical to contemporary man. Our designer made possessions are intended to reflect our personal style, and we focus on building self esteem and self confidence. In marketing, one must work diligently on a “personal brand”, and develop a unique persona. And intertwined with our deep self absorption is a culture of materialism that is bonus built, consumption driven, and consumer oriented. This is not a culture that is sacrifice friendly.
However, sacrifice is an idea whose time has come. The outrage over AIG executive bonuses and auto executive private jets reflect a deep seated anger at the destructive sense of entitlement that has pervaded the corporate world. There is a growing realization that the global economic crisis was not just a failure of the financial system, but also a failure of character, a crisis brought on by the arrogance and greed of traders and bankers. Humility and selflessness, the core virtues of sacrifice, is the very stuff our culture is so desperately lacking.
The Midrash says that the lesson of sacrifice is that there is nothing as perfect for the service of God as the humble, broken heart. A humble soul, empty of pretense, has remarkable spiritual powers. Its vision of the world is not clouded by ego, and its sense of generosity isn’t smothered by greed. Seen this way, sacrifice is not about destruction; on the contrary, sacrifice allows us to release the power of a humble heart.
While the past year has produced more than its share of villains, from Shearson Lehman Brothers to Bernie Madoff, there are quiet heroes as well. One of them, Chesley Sullenberger, successfully piloted US Air flight 1549 into the Hudson River after both of the airplanes engines were disabled, saving the lives of everyone on board. Beyond Sullenberger’s flying skills was a deep-seated sense of dedication. He didn’t leave the sinking plane until he had walked the entire cabin twice to verify that there was no one else was on board, and insisted that he be the last one to leave the life raft he was in.
Sullenberger’s heroism reminds us of forgotten virtues. As we observe how greed and grift have ravaged our economy, perhaps it’s time to give respect to those who live lives of dedication and devotion; perhaps it’s time to remember those old fashioned virtues of humility and generosity.
Perhaps it’s time to remember the power of sacrifice.
Wednesday, April 01, 2009
Tuesday, March 31, 2009
Thursday, March 26, 2009
Tuesday, March 17, 2009
Saturday, March 14, 2009
Notes to afternoon class on Pesach Seder 3-14-09
(I was asked to post some short notes from today's class for those who couldn't take notes. This has most of the ideas we discussed)
1. The Poem “Kaddesh, Urchatz, Karpas..”
a. Many other medeieval poems with similar purpose. Rabbi Menachem Kasher brings 14 examples of similar poems about the structure of the Seder.
b. These poems give in short verse the structure of the “Seder”. The term “Seder” not used in Talmud – medieval term.
c. several authors note the need for these poems – as a mnemonic device - because there are so many details in the Seder.
d. Rav Soloveitchik – concept of Seder – all elements integrated. Teshuvot HaRosh – telling the story of Passover an outgrowth of eating the food.
e. Idea of Seder – order – profoundly meaningful on evening of Passover. Redemption the opposite of believing that everything is happenstance – that there is no guarantee of a happy ending.
2. Ha Lachma Anya
a. Written in Aramaic – perhaps to be understandable to children. Probably, because it was the contemporary vernacular, Aramaic the language understandable to guests.
b. Intended as an invitation to guests. Otzar Hageonim cites custom to open door before Ha Lacham Anya.
c. What does the words “poor man’s bread” mean? A. most opinions – a bread poorly baked, eaten on the evening the Jews rushed out of Egypt. B. our preferred opinion – Ramban on the Torah – Jews in Egypt, harried, little time to bake. Matzah (probably originally similar to laffa) quick food (Similar evidence – Lot bakes Matzah when the angels appear as last minute guests – because it’s fast bread). C. Avudraham – tells story about Ibn Ezra, that when incarcerated in India, was served matzah – it is a more filling bread, and the slaveowner has to bake less. (but who fed the Jews at the end of the day?)
d. according to Ramban – it turns out there’s an exceptional connection between phrase of “this is the poor man’s bread our ancestors ate” and the invitation to the Seder – a way of making every guest feel comfortable – so we say, “don’t worry about your poverty – all Jews were once poor slaves”.
e. “this year we slaves.. next year in Jerusalem” – remembering the bread of slavery (as per Ramban) reminds us that we have overcome slavery in the past.
f. emphasis on slavery in Hagadah. Here are two lessons of why that is emphasized – sensitivity to those in need, a reminder that even in bleak times, there can be another redemption, there was one in the past.
3. Mah Nishtana
a. Idea of asking questions. For the child to parent (which is why we do several strange things, like remove seder plate, so the children ask questions.) and for any Seder – even when alone, Seder must be in question and answer form.
b. Rav Chaim Soloveitchik: What’s the difference between the nightly mention of leaving Egypt, and the special mitzvah to tell the Exodus story on the evening Seder? Several elements. This is one – the need to tell the story in question answer form.
c. Idea behind this – Seder meant to encourage engagement – people to relive the story of leaving Egypt – and to intellectually challenge us – so we explore the themes of the Seder ever more deeply on a yearly basis.
d. An additional idea – questioning an act of freedom – slaves cannot ask questions.
(I was asked to post some short notes from today's class for those who couldn't take notes. This has most of the ideas we discussed)
1. The Poem “Kaddesh, Urchatz, Karpas..”
a. Many other medeieval poems with similar purpose. Rabbi Menachem Kasher brings 14 examples of similar poems about the structure of the Seder.
b. These poems give in short verse the structure of the “Seder”. The term “Seder” not used in Talmud – medieval term.
c. several authors note the need for these poems – as a mnemonic device - because there are so many details in the Seder.
d. Rav Soloveitchik – concept of Seder – all elements integrated. Teshuvot HaRosh – telling the story of Passover an outgrowth of eating the food.
e. Idea of Seder – order – profoundly meaningful on evening of Passover. Redemption the opposite of believing that everything is happenstance – that there is no guarantee of a happy ending.
2. Ha Lachma Anya
a. Written in Aramaic – perhaps to be understandable to children. Probably, because it was the contemporary vernacular, Aramaic the language understandable to guests.
b. Intended as an invitation to guests. Otzar Hageonim cites custom to open door before Ha Lacham Anya.
c. What does the words “poor man’s bread” mean? A. most opinions – a bread poorly baked, eaten on the evening the Jews rushed out of Egypt. B. our preferred opinion – Ramban on the Torah – Jews in Egypt, harried, little time to bake. Matzah (probably originally similar to laffa) quick food (Similar evidence – Lot bakes Matzah when the angels appear as last minute guests – because it’s fast bread). C. Avudraham – tells story about Ibn Ezra, that when incarcerated in India, was served matzah – it is a more filling bread, and the slaveowner has to bake less. (but who fed the Jews at the end of the day?)
d. according to Ramban – it turns out there’s an exceptional connection between phrase of “this is the poor man’s bread our ancestors ate” and the invitation to the Seder – a way of making every guest feel comfortable – so we say, “don’t worry about your poverty – all Jews were once poor slaves”.
e. “this year we slaves.. next year in Jerusalem” – remembering the bread of slavery (as per Ramban) reminds us that we have overcome slavery in the past.
f. emphasis on slavery in Hagadah. Here are two lessons of why that is emphasized – sensitivity to those in need, a reminder that even in bleak times, there can be another redemption, there was one in the past.
3. Mah Nishtana
a. Idea of asking questions. For the child to parent (which is why we do several strange things, like remove seder plate, so the children ask questions.) and for any Seder – even when alone, Seder must be in question and answer form.
b. Rav Chaim Soloveitchik: What’s the difference between the nightly mention of leaving Egypt, and the special mitzvah to tell the Exodus story on the evening Seder? Several elements. This is one – the need to tell the story in question answer form.
c. Idea behind this – Seder meant to encourage engagement – people to relive the story of leaving Egypt – and to intellectually challenge us – so we explore the themes of the Seder ever more deeply on a yearly basis.
d. An additional idea – questioning an act of freedom – slaves cannot ask questions.
Thursday, March 12, 2009
Monday, March 09, 2009
The Five Minute Recipe for Reviving the Living
Too often, life gets buried under the details of living. The demands of daily life produce empty, pedestrian lives. Perhaps Thoreau put it best when he said: "The mass of men lead lives of quiet desperation”. Much like caged gerbils running in the wheel, we run busily onward on the road to nowhere. And life squeaks along, as we run from e-mail to errand to carpool to shopping list.
But details are not the villain here; someone needs to take out the garbage and change the baby’s diapers. We need to tend to our basic needs, but we shouldn’t get lost in them. Tragically, the gerbil’s wheel often becomes a substitute for the road of life, with mundane minutiae remaining our highest aspirations.
Humans are hardwired to get lost in the here and now. We buy larger quantities of food at the grocery store if we’re shopping when we’re hungry, and we drive more recklessly when we’re late for an appointment. Parents at a Bar Mitzvah can be so distracted trying to make everything run properly, that they neglect to fully savor the celebration. (I can attest to that from personal experience). We are detail oriented trivia managers, making sure that all important tasks are completed in good time. And so we lose ourselves in minutiae, never to peer beyond the trivial and see the larger picture.
In Hassidic thought, there are two stages of consciousness: “greatness” (gadlut) and “smallness” (katnut). In “smallness”, we tend to the trivial and day to day. However, it is difficult to serve God with a mind filled with trivialities. True service of God occurs only in “greatness”, when man focuses on the bigger picture. Sadly, too many of us stay stuck in the details of the world of katnut, our daily gerbil’s wheel, and end up with lives of quiet desperation.
We all need to reach out and touch the bigger picture. But that’s easier said than done. As the renowned Rabbi Menachem Mendel of Kotzk famously said, “I could revive the dead; I have much more difficulty reviving the living.”
I hate to sound like a late night TV commercial, but yes, “in less than five minutes a day, you too can revive the living”. All it takes is a few easy steps, and you’re lucky that this offer is free!!
First we must consider our purpose in life. The Book of Esther reminds us that each person has a unique role to play in the world. Mordechai implores Queen Esther to save the Jewish people, because “perhaps that is why you have been appointed queen”. What Mordechai is telling us is that we all have a date with destiny, that wherever we may be, we each have a unique contribution to make.
We must find our destiny and consider why we are alive and what we are meant to accomplish. Destinies need not be as grandiose as Esther’s; we can also achieve our destinies by hugging children and listening to heartbroken friends. But destiny should never be ignored; there were certainly thousands of “Esthers” we don't read about, who ignored their date with destiny and were forgotten by history. We must lead our souls to “greatness”, and focus on our own date with destiny.
After that, we need to open our minds. One of the more intriguing Jewish ideas, best articulated by 19th century theologians, is the concept of “Torah Lishmah”, Torah studied for its own sake. What this means is the commandment of Torah study is not merely a utilitarian activity, meant simply to inform a Jew of his religious responsibilities, but rather a pathway to enlightenment. Torah study allows us to broaden our understanding and expand our intellectual horizons. Even a few minutes contemplating a passage from the Tanach or Mishnah can inspire serious thought and open our minds.
I have the privilege of being involved in a weekly study group that has studied Pirkei Avot and the Book of Genesis with Rashi. We have had serious debates about the acceptability of saying “what’s mine is mine”, and what the Bible means when it says that God “regretted” making man. In each of these discussions, we have moved our minds from “smallness” to “greatness”, and the rest of the day is elevated as a result.
And finally, we must open our hearts. How often do we remember to appreciate everything we have? When I wake up, even before I open my eyes, I begin to focus on all the tasks and problems of the coming day; and in the process, my heart gets covered in a thick coating of “smallness”, lacking appreciation for the blessing of a renewed life.
But there’s a better way. It is customary to recite a short prayer called “modeh ani” immediately after waking up. The prayer says :
“I offer thanks before you, living and eternal King, for You have mercifully restored my soul within me; Your faithfulness is great.”
To achieve “greatness”, we immediately open our hearts to appreciate the new day. Recently, a Holocaust survivor remarked to me how after the experiences of Auschwitz “every day is gift”. And this is true of everyone, whether or not we have endured a near death experience: every day is a blessing.
A consciousness of "greatness" doesn't take long to achieve. All three of these steps can be taken in less than five minutes: a few moments to focus on the modeh ani prayer, another few moments to focus on our purpose in life, and a few more moments to consider a passage in the Bible or Mishnah.
Or, as they would put it on late night TV:
"Yes, in just five minutes a day, you too can revive the living!"
Too often, life gets buried under the details of living. The demands of daily life produce empty, pedestrian lives. Perhaps Thoreau put it best when he said: "The mass of men lead lives of quiet desperation”. Much like caged gerbils running in the wheel, we run busily onward on the road to nowhere. And life squeaks along, as we run from e-mail to errand to carpool to shopping list.
But details are not the villain here; someone needs to take out the garbage and change the baby’s diapers. We need to tend to our basic needs, but we shouldn’t get lost in them. Tragically, the gerbil’s wheel often becomes a substitute for the road of life, with mundane minutiae remaining our highest aspirations.
Humans are hardwired to get lost in the here and now. We buy larger quantities of food at the grocery store if we’re shopping when we’re hungry, and we drive more recklessly when we’re late for an appointment. Parents at a Bar Mitzvah can be so distracted trying to make everything run properly, that they neglect to fully savor the celebration. (I can attest to that from personal experience). We are detail oriented trivia managers, making sure that all important tasks are completed in good time. And so we lose ourselves in minutiae, never to peer beyond the trivial and see the larger picture.
In Hassidic thought, there are two stages of consciousness: “greatness” (gadlut) and “smallness” (katnut). In “smallness”, we tend to the trivial and day to day. However, it is difficult to serve God with a mind filled with trivialities. True service of God occurs only in “greatness”, when man focuses on the bigger picture. Sadly, too many of us stay stuck in the details of the world of katnut, our daily gerbil’s wheel, and end up with lives of quiet desperation.
We all need to reach out and touch the bigger picture. But that’s easier said than done. As the renowned Rabbi Menachem Mendel of Kotzk famously said, “I could revive the dead; I have much more difficulty reviving the living.”
I hate to sound like a late night TV commercial, but yes, “in less than five minutes a day, you too can revive the living”. All it takes is a few easy steps, and you’re lucky that this offer is free!!
First we must consider our purpose in life. The Book of Esther reminds us that each person has a unique role to play in the world. Mordechai implores Queen Esther to save the Jewish people, because “perhaps that is why you have been appointed queen”. What Mordechai is telling us is that we all have a date with destiny, that wherever we may be, we each have a unique contribution to make.
We must find our destiny and consider why we are alive and what we are meant to accomplish. Destinies need not be as grandiose as Esther’s; we can also achieve our destinies by hugging children and listening to heartbroken friends. But destiny should never be ignored; there were certainly thousands of “Esthers” we don't read about, who ignored their date with destiny and were forgotten by history. We must lead our souls to “greatness”, and focus on our own date with destiny.
After that, we need to open our minds. One of the more intriguing Jewish ideas, best articulated by 19th century theologians, is the concept of “Torah Lishmah”, Torah studied for its own sake. What this means is the commandment of Torah study is not merely a utilitarian activity, meant simply to inform a Jew of his religious responsibilities, but rather a pathway to enlightenment. Torah study allows us to broaden our understanding and expand our intellectual horizons. Even a few minutes contemplating a passage from the Tanach or Mishnah can inspire serious thought and open our minds.
I have the privilege of being involved in a weekly study group that has studied Pirkei Avot and the Book of Genesis with Rashi. We have had serious debates about the acceptability of saying “what’s mine is mine”, and what the Bible means when it says that God “regretted” making man. In each of these discussions, we have moved our minds from “smallness” to “greatness”, and the rest of the day is elevated as a result.
And finally, we must open our hearts. How often do we remember to appreciate everything we have? When I wake up, even before I open my eyes, I begin to focus on all the tasks and problems of the coming day; and in the process, my heart gets covered in a thick coating of “smallness”, lacking appreciation for the blessing of a renewed life.
But there’s a better way. It is customary to recite a short prayer called “modeh ani” immediately after waking up. The prayer says :
“I offer thanks before you, living and eternal King, for You have mercifully restored my soul within me; Your faithfulness is great.”
To achieve “greatness”, we immediately open our hearts to appreciate the new day. Recently, a Holocaust survivor remarked to me how after the experiences of Auschwitz “every day is gift”. And this is true of everyone, whether or not we have endured a near death experience: every day is a blessing.
A consciousness of "greatness" doesn't take long to achieve. All three of these steps can be taken in less than five minutes: a few moments to focus on the modeh ani prayer, another few moments to focus on our purpose in life, and a few more moments to consider a passage in the Bible or Mishnah.
Or, as they would put it on late night TV:
"Yes, in just five minutes a day, you too can revive the living!"
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