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Posted by Rabbi Dr. Shmuly Yanklowitz

Kapishnitzer Rebbe
In the Jewish tradition, love is considered to be more of an action than an emotion. Rabbi Joseph B. Soloveitchik wrote:
The Bible spoke of the commandment to love one’s neighbor (Leviticus 19:18). However, in Talmudic literature, emphasis was placed not only upon sentiment, but upon action, which is motivated by sentiment. The Hoshen Mishpat, the Jewish code of civil law, analyzes not human emotions but actual human relations. The problem of Hoshen Mishpat is not what one feels toward the other, but how he acts toward him (Family Redeemed, p. 40).
British Chief Rabbi Jonathan Sacks makes the same point in explaining the importance of performing acts of loving kindness. He notes that hesed usually means “kindness,” but it may also be translated as “love” expressed through deed, in a covenantal bond. Through this covenant, there is mutual respect for the integrity and freedom of the other in acts of hesed, which do have a deep emotional component:
Hessed exists only in virtue of emotion, empathy, and sympathy, feeling-with and feeling-for. We act with kindness because we know what it feels like to be in need of kindness… Societies are only human and humanizing when they are a community of communities built on face-to-face encounters – covenantal relationships.
Philosopher Emmanuel Levinas, agreeing with Rabbi Sacks, wrote that the image of a “face” is a key to what makes us human: “Society is faceless; hesed is a relationship of face to face. The Pentateuch repeatedly emphasizes that we cannot see G-d face to face. It follows that we can only see G-d in the face of another” (To Heal a Fractured World, page 45-55).
Of course, we see the face of another most in those closest to us, our families. There is a powerful story about the Kapishnitzer Rebbe about the importance of taking care of family. A prominent businessman from the community who worked in Manhattan asked to see the Rebbe about an opportunity to give tzedakah. He stressed that he would go to the Rebbe in Brooklyn to discuss the matter. Instead, the Rebbe said that he would go to the man’s office, for he had an important message to deliver.
When he arrived, the man barred any interruption, cutting off all phone calls and leaving customers waiting. He invited the Rebbe into his office. There, the Rebbe detailed the dire financial situa¬tion of a family with many children. The breadwin¬ner had lost his job, his health was suffering, and financial pressures were crushing the family's spirits. Something needed to be done immediately. The businessman immediately offered to write out a $1,000 check for the unfortunate man, but wondered why the Rebbe had to deliver the message in person. The story concludes, “Pen poised above his checkbook, the man asked, ’For whom is the check?’ The Rebbe stared at the floor for a few long moments, then answered, ’For your brother.’”
Tzedakah does not, of course, have to be in the form of money. The Steipler, Rav Rabbi Yaakov Yisrael Kanievsky, who endured abject poverty, harassment in the Russian army because he insisted on observing his religion, and who eventually went deaf, was extraordinary for his combination of wisdom and common sense, was widely sought after for advice. A young man once visited the Steipler Rav and complained bitterly, “I don't know which way to turn. My home is in constant chaos. I come home every Friday afternoon before Shabbos and the dishes are still in the sink, there are diapers everywhere, and the floor is not even swept. My wife is just not getting things done. I can't live like this anymore.” The Steipler Rav looked at the young man with incredulity and said, “You don't know what to turn? I'll tell you. Turn to the nearest closet and take out a broom. Has it occurred to you that you can help!"
There is plenty of work to do in the broader Jewish community and around the world, but we should be sure that in the process of doing that holy work we never forget the needs of our family. My great teacher Rabbi Avi Weiss likes to tell a story about how he was unable to pick his visiting parents up at the airport. He kept saying, “I love you. I just can’t pick you up at the airport.” His parents finally replied: “Avrami, stop loving us so much and just pick us up at the airport.” There is great value to love as an emotion, but Judaism reminds us that that love is ultimately manifest in action, not feeling.
Rabbi Shmuly Yanklowitz is the Founder and President of Uri L'Tzedek, the Senior Rabbi at Kehilath Israel, and is the author of "Jewish Ethics & Social Justice: A Guide for the 21st Century.” Newsweek named Rav Shmuly one of the top 50 rabbis in America."

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February 27, 2013 | 9:57 am
Posted by Rabbi Dr. Shmuly Yanklowitz

I have been involved with many institutions where someone clearly overstayed his or her welcome in a certain position. That person should have retired, transitioned, or resigned years (maybe even decades) earlier, but found ways to maneuver such that he or she could stick around, with the majority of folks involved in the organization becoming deeply resentful and the organization itself having its growth stunted.
Tomorrow Pope Benedict XVI will resign, marking the first papal resignation in hundreds of years (and then only because there was more than one Pope at the time). When Benedict the Pope, who will soon turn 86, was elected in 2005, he was the oldest Pope elected since 1730. Pope Benedict has had a pacemaker for years, and recently had a routine operation to replace its batteries. While religions often stress tradition, it must also be noted that, although people now live longer due to advances in medical care and knowledge of healthier living, there are also medical conditions that can greatly inhibit the ability of an elderly person to perform the full-time duties of a religious spiritual or communal leader.
After announcing that he was leaving the Jewish Funders Network, Mark Charendoff argued that there should be term limits for Jewish professionals. He offers a number of benefits:
• “Breathe new creativity and vibrancy into our agencies”
• Avoid falling “into a rut, into a certain way of doing things, of thinking, of acting, after being in any job for too long”
• We can “move those years of experience and expertise into another agency”
• “Allow a greater opportunity to import talent from agency to agency where it is merited”
• “It is sometimes hard to feel that accountability if there is no longer any danger of being held accountable”
• They make room for new executives to “recruit new senior lay leadership, opening up space on boards that may not have seen enough diversity in background or in thinking”
• They “force lay leadership to deal with an uncomfortable topic— succession planning. The long-term health of our agencies could benefit from a more sustained focus in this area”
• Open opportunities for middle management to grow into higher positions. “And we may find more opportunities for women to fill what have traditionally been male dominated roles”
• “We’ll save money. CEO salaries rise over the course of their tenure and well they should”
American political history has many such examples of leaders who held on to the reins of power too long. Republican Representative Joe Cannon served 46 years in the House of Representatives from 1873-1923, including a stint as Speaker of the House from 1903-1911. As Speaker, he earned the nickname “Czar Cannon” because of his dictatorial manner and opposition to every progressive measure, even resisting the formidable efforts of President Theodore Roosevelt. He was finally overthrown as Speaker by a coalition that included members of his own party, but so much necessary legislation was needlessly held up due to his destructive authority.
The Senate today further illustrates the case for term limits. Republican Mitch McConnell, who entered the Senate in 1985, has been the Minority Leader since 2007. As of September 2012, Republicans in the Senate had filibustered 375 bills during the Obama Presidency, far and away a record. In December 2012, Senator McConnell achieved the dubious distinction of becoming the first Senator to filibuster his own bill; he proposed a vote on raising the debt ceiling, but then blocked it when the Democrats did not object to the vote. On the other side, Democratic Senator Harry Reid, who has served since 1987, has been the Senate Majority Leader since 2007. Senator Reid has acceded to most of this obstruction by not pushing for a revision of the filibuster rules, and as a result everything in Congress is stalled, including the Farm Bill that regulates foreign aid and food stamps in addition to agricultural policies.
The American public bears some of the responsibility for this. A January 2013 Gallup poll reported that three-fourths of Americans favor term limits, although they also re-elected at least 90 percent of congressional incumbents in 2012. (Part of this may be due to gerrymandering, which has made most congressional district races noncompetitive). Americans have always backed term limits in theory, although no term limit legislation has ever passed both houses of Congress. The one national term limit, under the 22nd Amendment which was ratified in 1951, limits a President to two terms in office (and no more than 10 years in the event of taking over the Presidency before running for the presidency). Oddly, this amendment passed as a reaction to the 4-term administration of perhaps the most popular president in history, Franklin D. Roosevelt.
There are those who point out that term and tenure limits do not always make sense. For example, when President Franklin D. Roosevelt was frustrated by the “nine old men” of the Supreme Court who had declared so many New Deal laws unconstitutional, he tried to enact legislation that would force the retirement of elderly judges. However, as critics pointed out, the oldest justice on the Court in 1937 was 81-year-old Louis Brandeis, who was perhaps the most progressive justice. Nevertheless, as our population ages, and as the prevalence of debilitating conditions such as Alzheimer’s, Parkinson’s, stroke, and complications from cardiovascular and other diseases increases among the elderly, lifetime tenure can impede the workings of an organization. In addition to health concerns, term limits are compelling due to the corrosiveness of entrenched power, best summarized by Lord Acton, who in 1887 wrote, with reference to the Catholic Church: "Power tends to corrupt, and absolute power corrupts absolutely.”
We would be wise to consider policies that limit the terms of our religious as well as political leaders. When our institutions don’t provide term limits, leaders might assume the wisdom and humility to transition themselves for the welfare of the organization and broader community just as Moses actively brought Joshua into leadership to prepare the community for the next stages of their journey (Deuteronomy 31:7-8). Succession planning honors the community but it can also honor one’s own legacy, coloring one's memory with the virtues of humility and selflessness.
Rabbi Shmuly Yanklowitz is the Founder and President of Uri L'Tzedek, the Senior Rabbi at Kehilath Israel, and is the author of "Jewish Ethics & Social Justice: A Guide for the 21st Century.” Newsweek named Rav Shmuly one of the top 50 rabbis in America."
February 25, 2013 | 11:37 am
Posted by Rabbi Dr. Shmuly Yanklowitz

The Jewish tradition seeks to startle us, to challenge our routine and our dogmas. Slavoj Zizek, the Slovene philosopher and social critique writes poignantly about this point.
“There is an overwhelming argument for the intimate link between Judaism and psychoanalysis: in both cases, the focus is on the traumatic encounter with the abyss of the desiring Other, with the terrifying figure of an impenetrable Other who wants something from us, but does not make it clear what this something is - the Jewish people’s encounter with their God whose impenetrable call disrupts the routine of human daily existence; the child’s encounter with the enigma of the other’s (in this case, parental) enjoyment,” (Zizek, How to Read Lacan, 99).
This is what Emmanuel Levinas similarly calls “the ethics of alterity” and what Buber refers to as the “I and Thou.” It is about human encounters and the responsibilities born out of them. Encountering the human face and presence is indeed the birth of the ethical moment. Poverty is not an abstraction and it can take consistent conversations with the homeless to remember the pressing needs. So too, social change does not happen from the email or the office but in the streets and in relationships. Being in relationship with G-d is described as being panim-el-panim (face-to-face). How much more true for humans where the face can be taken literally. Perhaps one of the most powerful ways that one may encounter the Divine is in the face of the human, in the calling of the ethical moment of the encounter.
Zizek explains the thinking of Jacques Lacan, the 20th century French psychoanalyst. “For Lacan, the ultimate ethical task is that of the true awakening: not only from sleep, but from the spell of fantasy that controls us even more when we are awake,” (Zizek, How to Read Lacan, 60).
To truly live we must break free from fantasies and from our slumber. To do this, we must take off the veils that block us and hide us from true encounters with G-d and man. When we have the true courage to see and be seen, we can awaken our deeper spirit and our authentic self.
Sigmund Freud often took a very negative approach to the human psyche and to human nature. Here is how he understood the depth of the myth of Gyges:
The bit of truth behind all this [talk of virtue]—one so eagerly denied, is that men are not gentle, friendly creatures wishing for love, but that a pow¬erful desire for aggression has to be reckoned with as part of that instinctual endowment. The result is that their neighbor is only to them not only a possible helper or sexual object, but also a temptation to them to gratify their aggressiveness on him, to exploit his capacity for work without recompense, to use him sexually without his con¬sent, to seize his possessions, to humiliate him, to cause him pain, to torture and to kill him; homo homini lupus—who has the courage to dispute it in the face of all the evidence in his own life, and in history?
But we need not, and must not, view ourselves and others in this way. Humans are capable of doing terrible acts of evil but we are also capable of performing tremendous acts of love. With each new human encounter we must see the beautiful potential in the face of that other.
Rabbi Shmuly Yanklowitz is the Founder and President of Uri L'Tzedek, the Senior Rabbi at Kehilath Israel, and is the author of "Jewish Ethics & Social Justice: A Guide for the 21st Century.” Newsweek named Rav Shmuly one of the top 50 rabbis in America."
February 24, 2013 | 12:16 pm
Posted by Rabbi Dr. Shmuly Yanklowitz

We have all become familiar with the tactics of bigots who distort our religious beliefs or make up horrible lies to advance their hatred. Fortunately, most people in our pluralistic society recognize and reject these tactics.
But how would we respond to a skeptic who points to the morally troubling verse, “When...the Lord your God delivers them to you and you defeat them, you must utterly doom them to destruction: grant them no terms and give them no quarter” (Deut. 7:1-2)?
Or consider the many admonitions in the Torah to be kind to strangers, and to remember that we were once strangers in the land of Egypt. How do we reconcile this noble idea with these seemingly contradictory commands, “In the towns of the latter peoples, however, which the Lord your God gives you as a heritage, you shall not let a soul remain alive. No, you must proscribe them—the Hittites and the Amorites, the Canaanites and the Perizzites, the Hivites and the Jebusites—as the Lord your God has commanded you” (Deut. 20:16-17), and “Samuel said to Saul, ‘I am the one the Lord sent to anoint you king over His people Israel. Therefore, listen to the Lord's command! ... Now go attack Amalek, and proscribe all that belongs to him. Spare no one, but kill alike men and women, infants and sucklings, oxen and sheep, camels and assess’” (I Samuel 15:1,3)?
There are four primary philosophical approaches in relating to difficult texts like these.
First is the “Divine Command Morality” argument; i.e., because G-d is the source of and determines all morality, there is no contradiction between morality and G-d’s commands. Only the Divine can understand the big moral picture and thus only G-d has moral reasoning and authority. The problem here is that humans must abandon some of the greatest G-d-given gifts: moral conscience, reason, and autonomy.
Second is the argument proposed by 19th-century theologian/philosopher Søren Kierkegaard; i.e., if it appears that there is a contradiction between religion and morality, it is only because G-d has the power to suspend morality, and we must abandon our human conscience in heroic sacrifice to the Divine command, which supersedes all. This binding of Isaac-type mentality creates the religious personality. The problem here is that one must consciously act against their own moral intuition and that is spiritually and socially dangerous.
Third is the “heretical argument,” that there is indeed a contradiction between morality and the religious command, and that we must choose morality as we understand it over religious duty. This individual may be moral but they are generally not deemed religious.
Fourth is the “casuistic argument”; i.e., we need both the truths of human morality and of Divine command and that all contradictions can be resolved. Through moral reasoning, we can come to understand and embrace the Divine command. We are never compelled to obey anything immoral if we cultivate our intellectual and spiritual faculties to really understand that, to the well-organized mind, religion and morality can always be reconciled.
This last approach is most compelling, and demanding, for the modern religious person. In working every day to understand our texts, our world, and our hearts and souls, we can best achieve our Jewish mission. Rav Saadia Gaon, the 10th century Jewish philosopher, explained that if we find a contradiction between tradition and reason then we have made a mistake and we must continue to learn the text over and over and analyze our reason over and over until they are consistent. The text is our starting place, read charitably, but we never neglect our crucial human faculty of moral reasoning.
Rav Kook, the first Chief Rabbi of Israel, said it well:
It is forbidden for religious behavior to compromise a personal, natural, moral sensibility. If it does, our fear of heaven is no longer pure. An indication of its purity is that our nature and moral sense becomes more exalted as a consequence of religious inspiration. But if these opposites occur, then the moral character of the individual or group is dismissed by religious observance, and we have certainly been mistaken in our faith (Orot HaKodesh 4e).
We are following the path of Avraham who asked, “Shall the Judge of all the earth not act justly?” (Genesis 18:25), as we continue to challenge all dogmas to achieve the full truth. We should bear in mind that Avraham came from Ur in Mesopotamia, in modern-day Iraq. This region has for millennia been plagued by absolutist god-kings who waged brutal wars on one another. Even when codes of law were created, they often reinforced the extreme powers of the monarch. We should be grateful that we emerged from this land as a people of faith, law, and morality, while acknowledging that we did not always measure up to those ideals. We should remember that the best purpose for studying our sacred texts is not to puzzle over troublesome passages or justify the behavior of another era, but to become motivated to act, today, in the true spirit of tikkun olam.
Rabbi Shmuly Yanklowitz is the Founder and President of Uri L'Tzedek, the Senior Rabbi at Kehilath Israel, and is the author of "Jewish Ethics & Social Justice: A Guide for the 21st Century.” Newsweek named Rav Shmuly one of the top 50 rabbis in America."
February 23, 2013 | 11:33 pm
Posted by Rabbi Dr. Shmuly Yanklowitz

It is generally viewed as a success of the Enlightenment that we have cast off what philosopher Jean-Jacques Rousseau called “homme sauvage” (the natural, free, wild man) and built up the “homme civilize” (the civilized, enlightened, modern man). As Rousseau, who paradoxically opposed much of what the Enlightenment brought about, famously wrote in The Social Contract: “Man is born free; and everywhere he is in chains. One thinks himself the master of others, and still remains a greater slave than they.”
As humans, we have developed to generally be more self-aware, cultured, and controlled. However, we also have become estranged from our core, free and natural selves, and gotten stuck in a web of complex social conventions and conformist behavioral patterns. This process harms human-to-human and the human-to-Divine relationships.
To make matters worse, it has become more difficult to get our hands dirty doing the work that we are here in the world to do, since societal demands and distractions have become so great. Can we recover our original, authentic nature? And if we are not pursuing our purpose naturally, what are we doing?
In But Your Land is Beautiful, the late Alan Paton wrote of a character.
When I shall die, which I certainly intend to do, I will be asked by the Big Judge, “Where are your wounds?” When I say, “I haven’t any,” I will be asked, “Was there nothing worth fighting for?” And that is a question I do not want to have to answer.
If our society is guided by comfortable and conflict-averse decision-making, how can we even get our hands dirty in the work? How can we even discover our cause?
We can view this process on a physical and a spiritual plane. Physically, most of us have no idea how to provide for our own food and shelter, instead relying on supermarkets and contractors to do our work. Historians used to tell a story about an urban government bureaucrat who, when he interviewed a farmer, asked about how many macaroni trees the farmer had. Spiritually, we also have so many diversions, from social media to hundreds of cable television channels and movies on demand, and we may forget our spiritual foundations.
There are divergent views on how to arrive at our true natures. Politically, Rousseau believed in pure democracy, where the majority would have unlimited authority, whereas in a modern republic the rights of minorities are protected. In education, Rousseau’s argument in Emile is that the individual can only discover the authentic true self if he or she is educated in isolation, removed from society. For Jews, by contrast, the education process is all about community and partnership (chevruta). We must all do the work to discover ourselves but still remain immersed in society.
As we approach Pesach each year, we begin to search for and remove the chametz (leavened foods) from our homes. But is it only from our homes? When Rav Yisrael m’Vizhnitz was walking with his friend, on the way to search for the chametz, he stopped and opened his cloak. Uncovering his chest, he said: "You know that the real chametz is the chametz in the heart– check me here!"
By checking the chametz of the heart, we are searching for the spiritual blocks we have accumulated that blind us from our true nature and highest potential. One of the problems is that we must break through a lot of pride to reach a deeper place. Here there is another Passover message. The first century philosopher Philo asked what we can learn from the nature of chametz. He answered that just as leaven is banned because it is “puffed up,” so we must guard against the self-righteousness that puffs us up with false pride. Pride and complacency—these are the qualities we must seek to remove from our character. This is the lesson of chametz, Passover, and civilized man.
Modernity has led to the caging of the soul and aspects of human potential. We cannot go back in time nor do we wish to. But we must still find avenues to journey in our life enabling deeper insight, discovery, and freedom.
Rabbi Shmuly Yanklowitz is the Founder and President of Uri L'Tzedek, the Senior Rabbi at Kehilath Israel, and is the author of "Jewish Ethics & Social Justice: A Guide for the 21st Century.” Newsweek named Rav Shmuly one of the top 50 rabbis in America."
February 22, 2013 | 12:02 pm
Posted by Rabbi Dr. Shmuly Yanklowitz
Angry Haman! The Jewish holiday of Purim, which begins tonight, is a joyous time of celebration. The story of the Book of Esther is familiar: In the 4th century BCE, the Persian King Ahasuerus fell under the influence of his evil prime minister Haman, who resented the Jews who refused to bow down to him. In revenge, Haman persuaded the King to issue a secret decree to kill all the Jews on the 13th of Adar, and he made preparations to hang Mordechai the Jew for his refusal to prostrate himself before Haman in submission. Fortunately, Mordechai, who found out about Haman’s plot, was in the king’s good graces, because he had helped thwart an attempt on the king’s life; in addition, Esther the Queen, who kept her Jewish identity a secret, was his cousin and foster daughter. At the risk of her life, Esther came to Ahasuerus and ultimately persuaded him to issue a decree allowing the Jews to defend themselves against their enemies and in addition to put the evil plotter Haman to death. On the 13th of Adar, the Jews triumphed over their would-be killers, and this victory is marked by the celebration of Purim every year on the 14th of Adar. We know this story.
Traditionally, Jews today use groggers or other noisemakers to drown out the mention of the name Haman during the reading of the Book of Esther (which occurs twice, once on Purim night and again during the day), but it is useful to examine the name of this hateful person. The Gemara [Chulin 139b] asks where we see an allusion to Haman's name in the Torah. The answer the sages give is from the Garden of Eden scene in Genesis (3:11): "Ha’min ha'eitz hazeh... – Did you eat from this tree?: The word ha’min consists of the same three Hebrew letters (heh, mem, nun) as Haman.
There is a deep connection between the first human mistake in the Garden of Eden and the life of Haman. Haman was a person, who the sages say had everything: wealth, prestige, family. He had it all. Yet Haman could not be happy. As long as Mordechai sat at the gate of the king refusing to bow down to him (Esther 3:2), he could not be happy. At one point Haman even says, “all of this is worthless to me” (Esther 5:13). He was only missing one thing and thus everything else – his fortune, his political influence, his large family – lost value and meaning.
When we find ourselves in this mindset, we can never be happy. We may have money, family, friends, and health, yet if we’re lacking one thing all the good things are for naught.
This is why Haman’s name comes from the tree in the Garden of Eden. Adam had everything one could want: the luxuries of Paradise, a wife, a direct connection to G-d, literally everything. But he lacked one thing, the experience of eating the fruit. And so he could not be content. This is the essence of Haman: Haman is a historical and literary figure, but even more Haman represents a concept that is part of the human condition.
Rashi points out that just as Haman’s name originates from “ha’min ha’eitz – from this tree,” so too, he ends up being hanged on a wooden gallows (eitz) (Esther 7:10). The thing we constantly long for beyond our reach ends up being our downfall.
We protest Haman on Purim because the mitzvah of the day is one of the most difficult of all mitzvot in the Torah: the mitzvah to be happy. It sounds easy – get a daiquiri and lie on the beach – but it does not work. Pleasure is one thing, but to achieve true happiness is much more challenging.
We can see this in the modern world. A WIN-Gallup poll released at the end of last year asked people from 54 countries if they personally were happy, unhappy, or neither. The happiest people were from Colombia, and five of the happiest 12 countries were in Latin America. On the other hand, in the lower half of the happiness list (below even war-torn Afghanistan) were people from Germany, France, the United States, Russian Federation, China, United Kingdom, Hong Kong, and Italy—nations we associate with greater wealth and power. Regionally, people from Latin America were roughly twice as happy as people from the seven wealthiest societies in the world. The futility of Haman remains valid today.
In a related poll, a joint Gallup-Healthways survey of more than half a million Americans found that American Jews were the highest ranking group in terms of “well-being” (emotional/physical health, work environment, healthfulness of behavior), with the very religious netting the highest scores within this group. As we know, religious Jews make many physical and financial sacrifices for their faith, so mere material wealth cannot account for this high level of well-being. Professor David Pelcovitz of Yeshiva University believes that the key to happiness for Jews is “the core ingredients of happiness—family, friends and faith.” In a comment in his work Ohr HaTzafon, Rabbi Nosson Tzvi Finkel [the Alter of Slabodka], saw a universal possibility for happiness: “Every person is surrounded by limitless potential for pleasure and enjoyment. The world and all its details is a source of pleasure. A person’s experiences in physical and spiritual areas give him the potential for happiness without end” (Vol. III, p. 84).
While misfortune is never welcome, we can sometimes learn to achieve happiness through such events. Consider a person who undergoes a critical surgical procedure or chemotherapy to treat cancer. This patient is often helped by family and friends who find the right doctor or hospital, drive the patient to and from medical appointments, and help with the recovery and medical expenses and paperwork. This patient, upon recovery, will understand how friends and family enrich us through their love, and he or she may have a rejuvenated appreciation for life and a feeling of happiness.
The rabbis teach us the key to happiness. One can only be happy when they learn to be “sameach b’chelko”—happy with one’s own lot in life. When we become so grateful for all we have and not focused on all the things we do not have, we can begin to achieve this. The rabbis teach that we should make 100 blessings a day (Menachot 42b). These are moments when we step back and reflect upon our good fortune and express gratitude to God for His bounty. Thus we can truly fulfill the Mitzvah of the day that we sing in havdallah every Saturday night from the book of Esther: “La'yehudim Hyta Ora Vsimcha Vsasson Vykor”"For the Jews there was light, happiness, joy, and honor" [Esther 8:16].
Rabbi Shmuly Yanklowitz is the Founder and President of Uri L'Tzedek, the Senior Rabbi at Kehilath Israel, and is the author of "Jewish Ethics & Social Justice: A Guide for the 21st Century.” Newsweek named Rav Shmuly one of the top 50 rabbis in America!"
February 21, 2013 | 4:42 pm
Posted by Rabbi Dr. Shmuly Yanklowitz
With Rabbi Dr. Simcha Katz at the OU Headquarters The Orthodox Union (OU) is the leading organization supporting and building the American Orthodox community. Its teen and young adult engagement efforts stretch across North America through NCSY and JLIC; its lay and rabbinic community building efforts are significant, with its work in supporting synagogues around the country, those with disabilities through Yachad, and rabbinic leaders through the RCA; its advocacy work is also noteworthy, with significant resources devoted to domestic and Israel policy lobbying. Most recently the OU has been involved in advocacy for FEMA relief after Hurriance Sandy. The OU, led by the great Rav Menachem Genack, is also (and most recognizably) the largest kosher certification agency in the world, certifying more than 500,000 food products in 80 countries. The OU helps to make it possible for religious Jews to survive and thrive in America.
With all leadership transitions, we can reflect upon our hopes for the next stages. The current prestigious president of the OU, Rabbi Dr. Simcha Katz of Teaneck, New Jersey, has been active with the organization for 25 years, mostly through OU’s kashrut division. Ordained as a rabbi, Dr. Katz also earned an MA in engineering, MBA, and PhD in Statistics and Finance from New York University. He has founded and served as senior executive for a technology firm, is a professor of finance at CUNY’s Zicklin Business School, and has helped found organizations to help the unemployed find jobs, which today has become the OU Jobs Board. In Teaneck, he was a founder of the Yeshiva of North Jersey and Congregation Keter Torah, and studies Jewish texts for hours each morning. Dr. Katz has prioritized affordable Orthodox Jewish living in America, reasonable yeshiva day school tuition, the right of every Jewish child to a religious education, and expanding accessibility to special education. He has been galvanizing everyone around this issue.
Dr. Katz has often decried the current day school tuition crisis, which threatens further erosion in attendance and community impact. While stressing that an Orthodox lifestyle demands sacrifice, he understands that families earning $200,000 annually find it difficult to afford day school, and most people earn much less. He has proposed a combination of reforms, including challenge grants; reducing administrative and infrastructure spending; and a willingness to adapt from the concept of hashkafot (personal religious philosophies), where multiple schools with small populations and huge costs are built, to a concept of achdut (unity), in which minor differences are passed over in order to build fewer schools that can accommodate more students in a more economical fashion.
When Rabbi Katz recently graciously invited me to meet with him at the OU I was struck by his passion and insight but also by his humility. He is an empathetic and inspiring leader who sees the big picture. There is an upcoming vote on March 10th to determine the next OU president and there are reports that Martin Nachimson of Los Angeles will be chosen as the new president. Dr. Katz will have made a significant impact at the O.U. and he will certainly remain a force in the community.
The OU, like all major communal institutions, has a lot of potential for growth. It must set the example by leading not only to protect our own self-interest (Israel, day schools, kashrut, etc.) but also ensure that the Orthodox community is showing global leadership to protect the vulnerable and further more just societies. There should be more leadership on social justice and global issues, like ensuring that the American kosher industry operates justly with more concern for workers, animals, and the environment. The public affairs branch needs to transition beyond the parochial and be a force for good on a much broader level in addition to its current noble efforts. Outreach efforts should be as concerned with leadership development and moral and spiritual development of students as they are with growth in ritual observance. Further, the Orthodox Union should maximize its zerizut (alacrity) to be on the front lines whenever there is crisis. It was inspiring to see Israelis arrive immediately in Haiti after the earthquake, for example, but the American Orthodox leadership were once again absent.
When leaders at the Orthodox Union take the lead on these issues, it is good for the Jews and for the world we live in. Orthodoxy is growing and the Orthodox Union has a crucial role to play going forward in collaborating to bring hope and redemption to the world.
Rabbi Shmuly Yanklowitz is the Founder and President of Uri L'Tzedek, the Senior Rabbi at Kehilath Israel, and is the author of "Jewish Ethics & Social Justice: A Guide for the 21st Century.” Newsweek named Rav Shmuly one of the top 50 rabbis in America!"
February 21, 2013 | 4:06 pm
Posted by Rabbi Dr. Shmuly Yanklowitz

Classically, the vice of sloth (laziness) had two components:
1. acedia – a lack of caring or indifference
2. tristtitia – sadness, sorrow, or despair
I would argue that the negative aspect of individualism that exists today in 21st century is furthered by acedia. The sociologist Robert Bellah says it well:
The individualism that’s on the rise recently in the U.S. is one of “What’s in it for me?” with immediate gratification of one’s needs coming before all other loyalties. Commitments like marriage only hold while they pay off….in earlier days the individualism in America was one that also honored community values. Today we have an ideology of individualism that simply encourages people to maximize personal advantage….considerations of the common good are increasing irrelevant.
A brilliant Midrash explains how the traps of laziness affect one’s learning:
They tell the sluggard “Your teacher is in a nearby city, go and learn Torah from him.” He responds “I fear a lion on the highway.” “Your teacher is in your own city.” I fear a lion in the streets.” Your teacher is near your home.” “I am afraid a lion is outside.” Your teacher is in a room inside your home.” “I am afraid that if I rise from the bed the door will be locked.” But the door is open.” “I need a little more sleep.”
How many of us just want “a little more sleep!” There is no viable excuse for anyone of us to not be addressing global poverty for at least 5 minutes each week (the time of clipping our nails) yet we manage to find 20 excuses while maintaining the memory of our soup-kitchen volunteer experience from 3 months earlier as our justification to comfort ourselves from facing our entrapment in sloth.
The great mussar teacher R. Chaim Luzzato (Mesillat Yesharim) paints the picture well:
We see with our own eyes, on numerous occasions, how a person who is already cognizant of his duty and who already knows what is appropriate for the salvation of his soul and what his obligation is to his Creator, can nonetheless neglect his duty, though not because of a lack of awareness of his obligation or for any other reason. Rather, his lethargic indolence dominates him. And this is what it says (to him): “I’ll eat a bit” or “I’ll sleep a bit” or “It’s hard for me to get out of the house,” “I took off my shirt, how can I put it back on?” “It’s very hot outside,” “It’s very chilly,” or “rainy” and all such other pretexts and excuses that the mouths of the indolent are filled with.
It is, of course, not only the privileged and powerful who struggle with energizing themselves to transform the world. The oppressed are also plagued with this complex problem. The great Brazilian educator and author of the Pedagogy of the Oppressed Paulo Freire wrote:
The oppressed, having internalized the image of the oppressor and adapted his guidelines, are fearful of freedom. Freedom would require them to eject this image and replace it with autonomy and responsibility. Freedom is acquired by conquest, not by gift. It must be pursued constantly and responsibly. Freedom is not an ideal located outside of man; nor is it an idea which becomes myth. It is rather the indispensable condition for the quest for human completion.
Now this is certainly not sloth but rather a different example of one of the many inhibitors placed in our minds and souls that prevent liberation. Hegel called it our subordination to the consciousness of the master.
The Christian philosopher Thomas Aquinas argued that sloth can be sinful in two situations: when one is in despair to perform what is spiritually good or when one is so regretful about their wrong-doings that it becomes preventative for them. I personally believe that we can think of a number of other psychological reasons outside of the “sin” category and perhaps our framework can be more positive focusing on alacrity and motivation rather than our sinfulness.
Psychologists have found that life satisfaction is 22 percent more likely for those with consistent minor accomplishments (victories) than for those who express interest only in massive accomplishments (Orlick 1998). Laziness is not conquered as a major life goal but every moment of our existence. We must seek little victories and the research shows this can lead to a more meaningful and happy life.
To this effect the Grah (Vilna Gaon) found it meaningful to argue that the reward of doing mitzvoth is so much greater than the effort expended.
How difficult it is to leave this world. In this world for a few kopecks a person can purchase tzitzit, and as a reward for that simple mitzvah merit to experience the Divine Presence in the World to Come. But in the Upper World, he can no longer earn anything, even if he exerts all his energies.
May we all be blessed with the passion, motivation, and will to conquer the inner force demanding complacency, conformity, and ease of existence.
Rabbi Shmuly Yanklowitz is the Founder and President of Uri L'Tzedek, the Senior Rabbi at Kehilath Israel, and is the author of "Jewish Ethics & Social Justice: A Guide for the 21st Century.” Newsweek named Rav Shmuly one of the top 50 rabbis in America!"
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