Category Archives: Torah Tuesdays

Torah Tuesdays: Who were you in your past life?

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Did you know that reincarnation is a Jewish belief?  Sure is.  It’s mentioned in numerous places in our mystical texts, beginning with the Zohar.

I heard somewhere (how’s that for a source . . .) that at this stage in the world’s history, all of our souls are reincarnations of older souls.  These (our) reincarnated souls need to “fix” one thing or another in order to move on up to the next stage of being, to get to the World To Come (also known as the World of Souls), which is the state of perfection and closeness to G-d.

There is a very righteous woman I know who was having an extremely difficult time getting ready for Shabbos.  She was always running right up to the deadline.  She commented to me that it must have something to do with her soul’s rectification, because she constantly struggled with it.

I’ve also heard reincarnation mentioned in the context of those who die young (lo aleinu).  I’ve heard that those souls were extremely close to perfection, and only needed just a little work to reach their goal, and then they were finished, and graduated to the World to Come.  It’s a beautiful thought, and perhaps can help take the edge off the pain of such a loss.

In the context of reincarnation, this life is like opening to the middle of a book.  There’s a whole backstory of which we are unaware.  It affects us, in our choices, our tendencies, whatever.  There are also future events that we are being placed in position for, but which we cannot see.  So we sometimes end up in positions of confusion or pain, not understanding why we have to go through whatever difficulty it is we’re facing, when really, we are just being put in the place we need to be to get where we need to go.

Personally, I have found that idea comforting many, many times during my life.  For instance, when I wasn’t accepted to any of my graduate school choices, it was devastating.  Really hard to deal with.  My whole existence had centered around becoming a professional clarinetist, and all of a sudden, the floor dropped out from beneath me.  I was mad, scared, confused, and a bunch of other emotions.

However, that turned out to be the catalyst for my spiritual search which lead me to where I am today.  It just took me several years to see the relationship between the events.  It was a real “a-ha” moment.

We don’t always get to see that relationship, though.  Sometimes the events have happened in a previous life.  Sometimes the events from our life will be rectified in another life.  We just don’t know.

And so we carry on, doing our best to be the best we can be, and looking forward to when, after 120 years, we might understand the events of our life in their proper context.

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Torah Tuesdays: Shiva Asar b’Tammuz Review

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When I was first learning all about how to fast on these minor fast days, it seemed like I would remember all the halachos and details forever.  I mean, it’s halacha, right?  So since it’s important I should remember everything always, or so I thought at the time.

Well, as the years go by, I see that I do need refreshers as each event arises. That’s what today’s Torah Tuesdays is about.  To brush up, I like to look in Sha’arei Halacha (Rabbi Ze’ev Greenwald) and The Book of our Heritage (Eliyahu Kitov).  They are both chock full of info, and are the sources I used for today’s post.

What’s today?

Today is Shiva Asar b’Tammuz (the 17th of Tammuz), which starts the period known as the Three Weeks.  It’s a sad time of year for us.  We also call this time of year yemei bein ha-metzarim (“days in straits”), which is taken from a verse in Lamentations (1:3) which describes the destruction of our holy Temple.

Why today?

A few reasons:

  • The tablets of the Ten Commandments were broken (because of the worship of the Golden Calf)
  • The tamid-sacrifice stopped being offered (before the destruction of the first Temple)
  • the walls around Jerusalem were breached by the enemy (before the destruction of the second Temple)
  • a Torah scroll was set on fire by Apustamus the wicked
  • an idol was erected in the Temple

If those seem a little abstract or hard to relate to, Ruti Mizrachi has an excellent post today which may help.

What do we do?

Today, we fast.  No food or drink (this doesn’t apply to children, women who are pregnant/nursing, people who aren’t well, the elderly, etc.).  The fast starts at dawn and ends at night, when the stars can be seen.  There are also specific prayers inserted into today’s prayer service.

Even if you’re not fasting, you can still take the opportunity to use the fast day as a time to take a spiritual accounting.  Fast days are about introspection, self-improvement, and returning to Hashem.  Remembering the sad events that happened today (and, indeed, the sad events of the recent weeks) can be a motivation to strengthen our relationship with Hashem, and assess how we are doing, spiritual-growth-wise.

Have a meaningful fast (or a meaningful day), and may we merit to see the redemption soon!

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Torah Tuesdays: Dusting off my Siddur

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Ooo – my first Torah Tuesdays post since the move!  I’m excited about this.

Way back when, in the single-me days (okay, it really wasn’t that long ago), I was pretty great at davening twice a day.  So great, in fact, that when I heard mommies of little kids comment on how they hadn’t davened from a siddur in ages, I would think to myself,

“Wow, that will never be me.”

Right.

Fast forward to, well, now, and I’m both laughing and cringing at my naiveté (not to mention my judgment, but, hey, it’s so easy to have strong opinions based on zero experience. . . ).  Let’s just say that the status quo for my davening is more along the lines of “in my own words” than “in the words of the sages.”  While I know that it’s totally acceptable to daven outside of the pages of the prayerbook, I really miss it. 

I like connecting to words written by great men, words that I know are helping connect me to really essential concepts of Judaism, and words that remind me of what I can strive to be.

There’s the first bracha, which reminds me that whatever is happening, it’s coming from Hashem, and how about the fourth bracha, which reminds me that I should ask for the ability to use my common sense and intuition.  Then there’s the bracha which asks for our eyes to be able to witness the return to Zion with compassion, and, one of my personal favorites,  the bracha for peace, reminding me that we were given a love of kindness, righteousness, blessing, compassion, life and peace.

That’s good stuff.

I find it really grounding to connect through these words and to have these concepts brought to the forefront of my mind.

Somewhere in the last two-and-a-half years, though, davening from a siddur  fell right off my priority list.  While I’ve become somewhat complacent about it, I have had more than a few twinges of remorse.

True, I have two little ones who need me, and are sometimes quite insistent about having my Full Attention.  Taking care of my kids is a totally valid reason to not pick up the siddur, and I’m cool with that.

Photograph,early 1900's,by one of the American...

That used to be me! Davening by the wall, I mean.

However, in the interest of intellectual honestsy, it’s not always “taking care of the kids” which is keeping me from davening.  There’s that first coffee of the day (’cause I do need it).  And popping on the computer to check Facebook (something really important could be happening!!!!!).  Or that load of laundry, or those toys which could be picked up, or a shopping list which needs to be made. . . you get the picture.

In the midst of all the hubbub of my life, one thought which keeps popping up is that I want my kids to see me davening.  From a siddur. Why?  I know that kids emulate what they see, and I want them to see me having a relationship with Hashem.

In my mind, that’s what I want.  In reality, however, I’ve been far from that role model.

In the gemara, it says that when you change your place, you change your mazel.  So I figured that since I’m in a new place, I have a new davening mazel.  With a big bli neder, I’m trying to make it more of a priority to daven from a siddur in the morning.

That’s right.  I’m going for it.

So far, I’ve been able to squeeze in a Shacharis while the boys have been entertaining each other, or eating breakfast, or while the baby is napping and the toddler is somewhat occupied.

It hasn’t always been smooth sailing (for instance, there was the time when my toddler started asking me for something when I was only on the third bracha.  He’s pretty persistant, so it was a refrain throughout most of the davening), and my kavanna definitely needs some work, but overall, it’s been very encouraging.  B”H.

What’s the point of this long and somewhat rambling post?  Basically, if there are areas in your life where you feel like you would like to improve, but through circumstance (and perhaps entropy), you feel like you’re in a rut, you can still improve.  It might be as simple as re-prioritizing, or you may need to give yourself more of an incentive (like a reward chart – gold stars!!).  Whichever it may be, if I can daven from a siddur, anything is possible.

———

image from Wikipedia

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Torah Tuesdays: Don’t Ever Give Up

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If I forget my right hand...

Whew! I hope everyone had a good Shavuos, and ate at least a little cheesecake (I actually didn’t get any, but I’ve made my peace with that). Between Shabbos and Yom Tov and Shabbos again, I feel like I haven’t blogged in absolutely ages. But here we are again, it’s Tuesday, and I have a post for you.

~ ~ ~

I think it’s fair to say that we have all experienced situations in our lives that are extremely challenging. For some, it’s finding their bashert, for others, it’s losing a job, and for others it’s a challenge with children, family, anger, patience, you name it.

And sometimes, when we’re going through a particularly trying time, things can seem very, very bleak. Like, the weight-of-the-world-on-your-shoulders and how-am-I-ever-going-to-get-past-this bleak.

For some of us, these trials are very public, and for others, they are very private. Sometimes you can’t even tell that a person is suffering.

I’ve mentioned in other posts that nothing is a coincidence and that it’s all for the good, but it’s not always simple to keep these concepts in mind.  Especially when it seems like the tension will never break or the problem will never resolve.

Well.

The Jewish people have been yearning for the redemption since the destruction of our second temple.  That was a long time ago.  Like, 1,941 years ago.  And we are still hoping.  It is still in our prayers andon our lips.  Just the other night, I was at a going-away party for someone, and at least a couple of people mentioned that, IY”H, we’ll all be in Jerusalem soon.  Because we really hope and believe that the redemption is coming, like, tomorrow.

That’s on the national scale.

On a personal level, none of us will be waiting nearly 2000 years for the resolution of a difficult situation.  I think that sometimes, situations which are personally difficult can make it seem like time is going by insufferably slowly, but really, if we can put it in perspective, it’s not as long as it feels.

Just as we haven’t given up hope for a national redemption, we also shouldn’t give up hope for the resolution of our personal trials.

It may sound cold, or harsh, but sometimes we just have to move on with our lives and wait for the situation to work itself out.  Definitely daven and make the effort that you are able to, but understand that, ultimately, it’s not on our timetable.  It’s up to Hashem.  Oftentimes, just as we’ve finally given up, that’s when a little glimmer of hope appears.

And the longer we wait for that glimmer, the sweeter it can feel.

Here’s to the resolution of all of our personal tribulations.

Torah Tuesdays: Going in the Right Direction

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The Ten Commandments, In SVG

Image via Wikipedia

Okay, no pun intended, though I am decidedly on the “right” wing of Judaism.  Hahaha.

Really, this post is about assessing what direction you (or me) are moving in. In seminary I learned that if you’re not moving up spiritually, you’re moving down.  There is no such thing as a plateau.  But, hey, no pressure, right?

This past Shabbos, I had the luxury of davening.  In shul.  With other people.  As the mother of two little boys, this does not happen often.  So I tried to really focus  on the words of the tefillah, to really concentrate on what I was saying (not so simple, actually).

In the text of the prayer commonly known as “Ashrei,” there is one verse in particular which is supposed to be said with “intense concentration.”  This verse, in English, reads

“He opens his hand and satisfies the desire of every living thing.”

Now, there are certainly various opinions on what one could focus on during the recitation of this verse.  Personally, I focus on the concept that in whatever direction a person desire to go, Hashem will make the path available, so to speak.  So, if I really, really desire to grow spiritually, Hashem will present me with choices that will move me in that direction.  And, if the opposite (G-d forbid), different choices will appear.

So, when I was davening this past Shabbos, and I came to this verse, I thought to myself, which direction am I going?  What are my choices saying about my desires?  And how can I make choices that are going to move me in the right direction?

The holiday of Shavuous is fast approaching (it’s next week!).  This is holiday where we celebrate the giving of the Torah, where the Jewish people accepted the mitzvos, sight unseen.  This seems like an appropriate time of year to assess where we’re holding as far as observance of the mitzvos goes.

If you say Ashrei, what do you think about when saying that verse? 

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Torah Tuesdays: Do it now

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It’s beautiful out today.  This is even nicer considering the amount of rain we’ve had here for the past few weeks (a lot).  So, we went for a walk, ran an errand and played at a playground.  It was really enjoyable and relaxing.  I appreciated being able to walk with my boys without the pressure of a timeline bearing down on me.

On the way home from the playground, I found myself thinking about some comments from last Friday’s post, about how my baby has gotten so big so quickly (he really has).  That got me thinking about how everyone says that, before you know it, your kids are all grown up.

There’s a saying in Pirkei Avos 1:14 it says

“If not now, when?”

Indeed.

Most of the time I’m busy with clothing, feeding, cleaning and managing my children and when I’m not doing that, I’m trying to find ways to occupy them so that I can get various other things accomplished.  So when am I enjoying them? If it’s really true that they are going to be grown-ups soon, then I should probably take the time to enjoy them

So I’m going to go do that.  Right after I take a nap.

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Torah Tuesdays: Choose who you become

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Image via Wikipedia

This is a woodcut of Koheles, somehow...

I’d like to thank my toddler for napping and my baby for entertaining himself, which is how I had time to write today’s Torah Tuesdays post.  Boys, you’re the best!

I was looking at some notes I took from a class on Koheles  (Ecclesiastes) that I took with Rebetzin Heller, back in the day when I was in seminary.   Today’s post is taken from the notes on chapter four, verse nine:

Two is better than one.  Rashi says that everything is better to be done with two than with one.  This leads to the saying from Pirkei Avos that you should “buy” a friend for yourself.

What?  Buy a friend how?  What kind of friend would that be anyways?

“Buy” can mean to serve them nicely, and treat them well in a physical sense (like making them a latte, or buying them chocolate).  Or, spiritually, you give them what they need.

Note:  This may not be what you want to give.  For example, maybe you’re a really good listener, and you know someone who needs a sympathetic ear.  You may not want to hear that person’s woes, but that may be your purpose in the relationship at that time.

Who should be your friend?  It’s worthwhile to be selective when making these choices.  Why?  Because you become who your friend is.  That is, you will be influenced by who you spend time with.

In part, this is because we all seek approval on some level.  Most people will act a little like a chameleon to become more like who they are around (and therefore, by being like them, they will like you).  However, if you keep the laws of Ahavas Reim (that’s loving your neighbor, folks), people will like you without you having to compromise your personality.

For instance, if you speak well of others, you’ll see their good points.  Doesn’t that sound nice?  Instead of dwelling on the annoying parts of other people, be a mentsch and mention their positive attribute.  You’d want someone else to do the same for you, yes (and we’re back to that golden rule)?

Rebbetzin Heller went on to state that the camouflage we put on to be more like those we admire is not bad.  However, it’s necessary to have boundaries, to be honest with yourself about who you are.  It’s fine to strive to grow to become more like your role models, but it’s just as important to be realistic about how much you can stretch yourself at any given time.

And so, since who we spend our time with affects who we are ourselves, by picking our friends, we can choose who we want to become.  The perfect friend is the one who can keep you straight.  The one who will tell you when you’re not being true to yourself (or when you have spinach in your teeth, that’s very important, too).

So, the next time you’re spending time with your friends, ask yourself  “Am I being my friend, or am I being myself?”  And see if you are on the way to becoming who you want to be.

Torah Tuesdays: Even when you don’t feel like it

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Image by ANOXLOU via Flickr

This is not my laundry. I have much more.

We’ve been having some off days over here.  The sink’s been broken since Motzei Shabbos, and it has remained broken despite my, and my landlord’s, best efforts at fixing it.  A professional is coming tomorrow morning.  The kitchen is a disaster.  I still haven’t caught up on laundry since returning from our trip to Memphis, and the bins are overflowing.  I was actually going to get cleaning help last Thursday (usually it’s just up to me), but she was a no show.  And, to top it all off, my allergies have arrived in full force, leading to constant sneezing fits, a mild headache and general lethargy.  I need to purchase allergy medication, and soon!

This is in addition to a relatively demanding toddler and baby pair, who, thank G-d, really do require most of my attention most of the time.  I’m blogging now because I find it all utterly overwhelming.  Did I mention that I need to pack for our upcoming move?

Oy.

So, I wasn’t feeling greatly inspired to write a Torah Tuesdays post.  I was mildly hoping that some brilliant insight or pasuk from Pirkei Avos would just pop into my head, and I could write a witty and applicable post that would be both entertaining and helpful.  But, not so much.  Just a sniffly nose and desire to avoid doing actual housework.

Then something did occur to me (Baruch Hashem).  I remember learning in seminary that we should try to daven even when we don’t feel like it.  The idea was that, even on the days when we weren’t feeling overly spiritual, when we were feeling more spacey, or more connected to the physical world, we shouldn’t use the lack of inspiration to keep us from performing the mitzvos.  We were encouraged to continue the act of davening, to try and muster all the concentration and sincerity we could, because someday, when we would be feeling particularly inspired, the framework with which to daven to Hashem would be solidly intact, not a distant memory.  Kind of like practicing the piano even when there’s no concert coming up.

Okay, so that idea, of keeping up the routine even when you don’t feel like it, can totally apply to more than just davening.  It can apply to being pleasant to a loved one when a bad mood has descended upon you.  It can apply to wearing modest clothing when the latest styles are oh-so tempting.  It can certainly apply to mothering (especially at, say, three in the morning).  I am going to apply it to doing housework right now.  Even though I really don’t feel like it at all, keeping up a good routine is going to help me when my house is running smoothly again.

What are some examples in your life of things that you do even when you don’t feel like it? 

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Torah Tuesdays: the downfall of our enemies

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Image via Wikipedia

thinking about a response

It is, of course, old news now that Osama bin Laden was killed.  After seeing the rumors fly around on Facebook statuses (stati?), I confirmed the news on Cnn.com.

My initial response was to be relieved that he will no longer be able to do evil, but to not be overly public about my feelings.  Our enemies were, after all, dancing in the street after 9/11.  Why should I engage in the same behavior?

I’ve noticed a range of online reactions from “Woohoo!” to “I will not celebrate the death of any human.”  I’ve seen quotes from Proverbs to support both opinions (11:10 “When the wicked perish, there is joyful song;” 24:17–18 “When your enemy falls, do not rejoice, and when he stumbles, let your heart not exult, lest the L‑rd see and be displeased, and turn His wrath away from him.”)

So what’s the “right” attitude?  Since there are clearly different opinions about this, I went to the Orthoweb to see what some of my favorite Torah sites said.  This response from Chabad resonated the most strongly with me.

Its take-home point was that while it’s crucial to acknowledge that there is evil in the world, and to rejoice when that evil is removed, it is also crucial to acknowledge that all humans were created by G-d (even the ones who chose to do massive amounts of evil).  Essentially, we should both rejoice and mourn.  Rejoice for the cessation of evil, but mourn for the loss of a creation of our Creator.

What do you think?  How do you feel?

Torah Tuesdays: Freedom!

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I suspect that most everyone is busy busy busy with Passover preparations, since the first seder is in t-minus six days (insert heart palpitations here).  That’s why I’m keeping this week’s post short.

Passover is referred to as the “Time of our Freedom,” which, in the most obvious sense, could mean freedom from bondage in Egypt.  On a deeper level, it can also mean freeing ourselves from our own personal slavery.  This time of year is especially conducive to freeing ourselves from whatever is enslaving us.  Maybe it’s procrastination, maybe it’s anger, maybe it’s laziness.  This is an ideal time of year to start kicking the habit.  I had a friend once who took the opportunity to stop biting her nails, for instance.

What are you going to free yourself from?