September 22, 2009 | 6:51 am

Out Of Control – Rabbi Barry Gelman

Posted by Rabbi Barry Gelman

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This past year has been a very frustrating, scary one for many people. The economic crisis has left many people feeling helpless and out of control. Not only in the realm of the economic crisis, but in many other areas of life, we may feel that we are not in control.

There are some who have put much effort in to raising their children to follow a certain path, yet they choose a different, often a heartbreaking path. As a result, we feel helpless, out of control.In our relationships, especially our marriages, many feel that there is no time to work on a marriage under stress and that our marriages are just sort of limping along.

I spent time talking to my congregation on Rosh Hashana about feeling out of control and at least one spiritually and religiously positive aspect of this feeling. I am happy to share it with you.

Events in life that humble us altogether bad. They supply a needed corrective for a sense of arrogance that leads us to believe that everything is in our control and that we can correct any problem if we only wanted to.

This shocking awareness of our limitations and our helplessness is part of the spirit that Rosh Hashanah seeks to instill in us. On this day do we say: ve’yeda kol pa’ul ki attah pe’alto ve’yavin kol yetzur ki attah yetzarto, “May every existing being know that Thou hast made it; may every creature realize that Thou hast created it.” Spirituality consists in the acknowledgment that we are pa’ul not only Po’el; that we are the objects of events, and not the subjects who determine them. Theologians have called that “Kreatursgefuhl”, the awareness of our creatureliness, of our severe limitations in the face of God and the world. And it is true that we are limited in what we can do — sometimes tragically so. (I gleaned this insight from a Drasha given by Rabbi Normal Lamm)

This idea is the essence of petitional prayer. When we ask God for things it is an admission o need and a call for help.

So the recent crisis, and the unsettled areas of our life, may have a positive impact on our souls as they compel us to realize that we are not all powerful and that there are forces greater than us.

In ancient times, when humanity was ravaged by weather, and disease, humility was in abundance. People felt humbled in the face of those great forces. In our time and society when we able to protect ourselves from weather and fight disease we no longer feel that sense power nor the humility that comes with it.

Perhaps the economy, we are now realizing, is also a powerful force, not always in our control. Not all aspects of human relationships are in our control either. Perhaps our current feelings of helplessness will help us regain our sense of humility.

I think this idea specifically relates to the morethodox as we pride ourselves on our modern sense of self sufficiency and being in control. We consider ourselves part of society that has accomplished so much that we may, at time, loose perspective on what we really can control and who really is in control. While we should not trade away our intense involvement in the world of science, medicine and technology nd business,we should be aware that our successes in those areas come with potentially dangerous spiritual side affects.

We should embrace the lesson of humility that difficulty and distress bring. Humility is a good thing even if it is born from negative experiences.

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August 20, 2009 | 8:35 am

Yoga Mincha

Posted by Rabba Sara Hurwitz

There have already been a few entries in this space discussing the efficacy of prayer, and what we, Morethodox Jews can learn from others about tefilah.  I’d like to add to this theme in my post today.
 
I believe that one of the foundations of prayer is the ability to intertwine fixed/set prayer with spontaneous prayer.  Chana, who according to the Talmud (Brachot 31a) was the progenitor of prayer, prayed twice when she beseeched God for a child as recounted in Samuel 1, chapter one and two. Her first prayer was wordless (“And it came to pass, as she continued praying before God…Now Chana spoke in her heart.”
יב וְהָיָה כִּי הִרְבְּתָה לְהִתְפַּלֵּל לִפְנֵי יְהֹ וְעֵלִי שֹׁמֵר אֶת־פִּֽיהָ: יג וְחַנָּה הִיא מְדַבֶּרֶת עַל־לִבָּהּ
(Samuel 1:12-12)  This prayer was spontaneous, filled with visceral emotion.  In Chana’s second prayer, however, one has the sense that she sat with her quill and parchment for days, composing carefully her words of gratitude and praise to God.  Her second prayer was deliberate and formal.  In fact the Yalkut Shemoni Shmuel 1 says that it is this second prayer that became the blueprint of the shmonei esrei. 
 
Our challenge is to follow Chana and find ways to combine both set (keva) prayer as well as spontaneous prayer into a meaningful and godly experience.  I spent this past week at a Jewish retreat center where I encountered the difficulty of this challenge. At one point on the retreat I stepped into a Jewish renewal style Shabbat morning service, and found that there was very little traditional liturgy weaved into the davening.  This type of formless prayer did not appeal to me.  On the other hand, I had the opportunity to “daven mincha through Yoga,” as the program advertised it.  To my surprise, I found that embodying, literally, the words of the mincha prayer to be an extremely uplifting experience.  (The Yoga Mincha did not, of course, replace my regular traditional davening).  We threw our hands up in the air in joy as we recited the word “ashrei.’ Then we went into a sitting pose at the word “yoshvei.”  And then dropped our hands down, in a cave like manner, to create a home as we said the word “Vaytecha” (Ashrei Yoshvei Vaytecha—How happy or praiseworthy are those who dwell in Your house).  Imbuing traditional liturgy with an entirely new element forced me to think about the words in a different way. I found myself reaching out to God “with all my heart, with all my soul and with all my might.”  I was reminded of the experience Yitzchak might have had as he mediated in the field at evening time (Bereishit 24:63).  Or the uplifting prayer of the Levites, who according to Psalms (150:3) praised God with the harp, lyre, and through dance. Spirituality takes on many forms.  Tapping into ones spiritual self is the challenge. 

Meaningful prayer is something that many strive to attain and maintain.  I learned this week to step out of my prayer comfort zone, just a little, even if to experience a taste of how others achieve spiritual moments.  As we enter the month of Elul, a month where we focus more than ever on our prayerful selves, let’s keep striving to bring ourselves closer to God. 

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August 13, 2009 | 9:36 am

Tzedakah and Chesed:  Preparing for the Month of Elul by, Rosh Kehilah Dina Najman, Marta d’Atra of

Posted by Rabbi Barry Gelman

Very often, Rosh Hashana comes along and I find myself thinking:  How did the month of Elul come and go so quickly - I feel that I did not utilize my time adequately to prepare myself to stand before HaKadosh Baruch Hu on Yom haDin?
In that vein, as we are m’varchin haChodesh this coming Shabbat for the month of Elul, I would like to get a head start by focusing on a central phrase in the Yamim Noraim liturgy.
The climax of the Unetaneh Tokef prayer is the final statement which we declare out loud together:
“וּתְשׁוּבָה וּתְפִלָּה וּצְדָקָה מַעֲבִירִין אֶת רעַ הַגְּזֵרָה “
“Repentance, prayer and charity avert the evil decree.”
The Rambam, Maimonides, in his Moreh Nevuchim, Guide to the Perplexed, 3:53, explains:  הביטוי צדקה גזור מן צדק.  The word tzedakah comes from the root tzedek, which means justice. 
The Rambam further explains that the essence of this concept is granting to everyone that to which they have right or giving every being that which corresponds to their merits.

Tzedakah therefore, according to the Rambam, is generally considered charity in the sense of providing for the basic needs of one who is lacking financially, according to what is due to them.

Tzedakah is often connected to a related concept, that of chesed, or gemilut chasadim, acts of loving kindness.  Chesed can generally be described as giving in excess what is required. That is, doing something for someone to whom one has no obligation or doing something for someone one who deserves it, but in a greater measure than is warranted.
Thus, the contrast between tzedakah and chesed is that tzedakah is an act of beneficence toward another person who deserves or merits what is given to them and when the giver has no obligation to them.  With chesed, the giver also does not have an obligation to the individual to which she gives, but that individual receives in excess of their merit.
The Rabbis compared these two concepts in the Gemara (Sukkah 49b)
בשלשה דברים גדולה גמילות חסדים יותר מן הצדקה, צדקה - בממונו, גמילות חסדים - בין בגופו בין בממונו. צדקה - לעניים, גמילות חסדים - בין לעניים בין לעשירים. צדקה - לחיים, גמילות חסדים - בין לחיים בין למתים.

Acts of chesed are greater that tzedakah in three ways: tzedakah is accomplished with one’s money, chesed is accomplished through money or through other actions.  Tzedakah is for the poor whereas chesed can be for the poor or for the wealthy.  Tzedakah is only for the living whereas chesed can be for the living or for those who have died.
If this is the case that chesed is a much deeper and more comprehensive act of good, why is it that we declare:
וּתְשׁוּבָה וּתְפִלָּה וּצְדָקָה מַעֲבִירִין אֶת רעַ הַגְּזֵרָה?
Why don’t we say together:
וּתְשׁוּבָה וּתְפִלָּה וּחֶסֶד מַעֲבִירִין אֶת רעַ הַגְּזֵרָה?
One way to explain the choice of tzedakah is based on the ideas of Rav Yosef Baer Soloveitchik who explains that tzedakah is an integral part of the teshuva (repentance), process.  Although the Gemara (Rosh HaShanah 16b) derives this principle from a verse in Psalms, the Rav chooses to refer back to the chet ha-eigel, the sin of the golden calf.  Part of the teshuva process for the Jewish people was their monetary contribution to the mishkan, the tabernacle.  In response to their sin, B’nei Yisrael began building the sanctuary which would be the focal point of their connection with God.  They were required to donate to this project.  The Rav further explains the connection between teshuva and tzedakah by noting the there is an element of selfishness in transgression.  Some form of personal benefit has been given precedence over religious and social principles. 
The Torah describes the half shekel which everyone was obligated to donate to the mishkan as a kofer, a ransom.  It is as if to say that one who has sinned is held captive and must be redeemed through giving.

Tzedakah therefore, is a means of demonstrating compassion, responsibility, and a willingness to share.  For this reason, forgiveness from God can only be obtained when tzedakah accompanies the teshuva process.
Following this understanding of the connection of tzedakah to teshuva, we can offer another understanding as to why the High Holiday liturgy emphasizes tzedakah as opposed to chesed.  The monetary obligations of tzedakah are limited and are directed soley to the poor.  The halachah has a rich body of laws outlining the amounts of tzedakah one is required to give in response to different situations. 
The legal duties of one’s personal involvement in gemilut chessadim are without restrictions.  The process of teshuva, of return, would be that much more difficult if part of that process was a mitzvah, a mandate, which was in effect at all times, to all people and in all situations.

Tzedakah, as I mentioned above, is intimately bound to teshuva and can be an expression of our commitment to return.  It is a mitzvah in and of itself which is at the foundation of a Jewish community. The community, as well as the indivudual, has a responsibility to those in need.  The giving of tzedakah is considered a fundamental part of being human such that even one who receives tzedakah due to their need still is required to give tzedakah themselves.

The Maharal, Rav Yehuda Louwe, in his work Nitivot Olam, expands upon the difference between tzedakah and gemilut chesed. Tzedakah is judged by the recipient.  The magnitude of the need will determine the degree of assistance to alleviate the need. Chesed on the other hand, is to be judged by the giver—the quality of caring that a person is capable of will determine the nature and degree of the remedy.
Tzedakah is sparked by the demands of compassion. One cannot bear to see a person suffering, so one is compelled by a sense of sympathy to help the other. If that present need did not exist, there would be no compassion necessary and no charity given.
Chesed requires a broader, more sensitive heart and a generosity of spirit to be integrated into one’s personality.  Chesed then, will not be a reaction forthcoming only in response to sadness.  It will be an ever-present quality which will anticipate needs, understand other’s limitations, search for solutions and initiate acts of benevolence, even when unstated or un-noticed by the recipient.
This year will present financial challenges for many.  Please keep these individuals, families and communities in mind even though we all may feel the burden of our country’s economic difficulites.  There are many in need of tzedakah.  However, help can also come in the form of chesed.  Assistance need not only be financial, it can come in the form of helping people save money, donating one’s time and energy and sharing one’s resources.

Next week we will mark the beginning of the month of Elul and with it, the formal beginning of our spiritual preparations for Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur.  If our hearts and eyes are open we will see the many opportunities for tzedakah and chesed before us.  Through our actions may we merit compassion from the One who is compassionate.  Wishing us all a productive and meaningful chodesh Elul.

 

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