There are two kinds of schools within Judaism, two types of Beth Midrash: The Beth Midrash of Moshe Rabenu and the Beth Midrash of Avraham Avinu. Although both of them are an integral part of Judaism, the difference between them is critical.
Rambam, in Hilchoth Avodath Kochavim (1:1-3), states that Avraham Avinu started a movement of “emunah” (religious faith). While Rambam sees Avraham’s discovery of God as the result of philosophical contemplation, other interpretations do not believe that this was a purely intellectual discovery, but rather the result of an existential encounter with God. What Avraham discovered is not so much that God exists but that “God is of no importance, unless He is of supreme importance.” (Abraham Joshua Heschel)
This discovery touched Avraham’s entire personality and transformed him into a different human being. It infused him with a great amount of wonder for all existence and deep concern for the wellbeing of mankind. This was not just a matter of the mind but of the heart. As such he became the driving force behind a movement which turned the world on its head. An irresistible movement in which “emunah” (in this instance, deep religious faith), and “chesed” (kindness), became the central pillars. “Emunah” filtered through his very personality and initiated him into an, until then, unknown world. The far-reaching effect of this transformation becomes clear when we remind ourselves of Rashi’s comment that Avraham was able to “convert” many of his contemporaries. Why was he so successful in doing so? Was it because of his great intellect? Surely this must have played a role, but there is little doubt that it was mainly due to the kind of personality he had become. Those who are touched by God do not just add another dimension to their personality but are completely transformed into different people, whilst maintaining their own individuality. Consequently such people are able to connect with others in ways that are not available to those who do not share that experience of God.
To illustrate this transformation, we are reminded of a comment made by Rabbi Yisrael Salanter, the founder of the Mussar movement in the nineteenth century, and a man of tremendous spiritual stature, who was once asked, which teacher had influenced him the most, turning his life around. After he answered that the famous tzaddik Rabbi Zundel of Salant was his teacher, he was asked how many years he studied under him, to which Rabbi Yisrael Salanter surprisingly replied that he had never learned under him, but “Ich hobe ihm a mohl gesehen..” (I just saw him once.) That one encounter was enough to set Rabbi Yisrael Salanter on a spiritual path, which led to a movement that inspired tens of thousands of Jews. The personality of Rabbi Zundel of Salant was so deeply affected by his ongoing experience with the reality of God that His presence was ingrained in every aspect of his being. Once Rabbi Salanter discovered this, he became Rabbi Zundel of Salant’s most committed student without a word having been spoken.
This may illustrate Avraham's impact on his surroundings. Confronted by the kind of personality he was, the world around him stood re-created, trembling in a new light, radiating a new spectrum of colors.
Abraham Joshua Heschel’s once observed that we do not need more text books but rather more “text people.” The difference between a student and a disciple is that the student studies the text while a disciple studies the teacher. It is the “middoth tovoth” (the exalted characteristics), the integrity and sensitivity that are the central components to teaching a religious tradition. This is the “grundnorm”, the foundation, on which the Beth Midrash of Avraham Avinu stands, to teach so as to transform and inspire an upheaval in the soul. It is here that we find the roots of Judaism in their most essential form. What we have to understand is that Judaism started as an existential movement in which all that man does, thinks, feels and says is touched by the spirit of God.
We must therefore realize that Judaism did not start as a halachic tradition, as we know it today. It took hundreds of years before the Sinai revelation, with all its halachic implications, became possible. Much had to happen prior to such an exalted moment. Halacha had to grow out of the Abrahamic experience. It is only then that the Beth Midrash of Moshe Rabenu became possible. It is the Beth Midrash of halachic discussion and halachic decision- making. But such a Beth Midrash must first of all be grounded in the existential “emunah” orientated Beth Midrash of Avraham Avinu.
It took hundreds of years before there was a possibility for the Sinai revelation to make any impact. There had to be an incubation time in which concepts of “emunah” took shape and in which the spiritual foundations of Judaism could grow. The grandeur of the Jewish traditional “weltanschauung” had to first grow into maturity and find its way through actual faith experiences before it could transform into a halachic way of living. The Sinai revelation can therefore only be seen as the result of the Beth Midrash of Avraham Avinu, which found its solidification in the halachic foundation of Sinai. It is here that the faith experiences of the generations before Sinai, starting with Avraham were transposed into a practical spiritual way of living.
Purim
MEGILLA
There is a halacha that one must read/hear the Megilla in order. Why? We have all heard the reason why Hashem’s name isn’t mentioned in the Megilla – to show that in reality He was behind every action and that it the miracle was that the different events happened ‘by chance’ in an order by which the Jews managed to survive.
But what of the Jews living through the story? Did they know what was going on? Did they know they were living through the Megilla or did they just think that the events were a series of random events?
This point should make us ask ourselves the same question: do we know that today, in 5768, we are possibly living through the final period of exile culminating in the ultimate geula? Do we see events as unconnected or are we seeing a Megilla unfold before our eyes (note the word Megilla means a scroll and the word ‘megaleh’ means to reveal’).
Crucially, are we seeing the world and its events from the perspective of man (looking at a small piece of a tapestry from the bottom)? Or do we see Hashem’s perspective – the tapestry in all its beauty.
AD D’LO YADA
There is a strange halacha that one should become drunk on Purim so much so as not to know the difference between ‘Blessed is Mordechai’ and ‘Cursed is Haman’. However it is widely known – and experienced - that this level of drunkenness is fairly extreme. Furthermore, we are also expected to daven the ma’ariv service after the Purim seudah and we also know that if one is too drunk to speak before a King, one should not daven.
In order to unravel this mystery we need to understand the message of the Purim story. Let’s analyse the various characters and groups involved in the Purim story and ask whether the following question: did they get the message? Did they know what was actually going on? Let’s see…
Achashverosh: One of the storylines in the Megilla is how the king in the Purim story appears to wield control but in reality, does not. Achashverosh never makes decisions without consulting his ministers, be it Haman or later, Mordechai. He is happy to let a foreigner, Haman the Agagite, to run the country and is seemingly shocked when Esther reveals to him that Haman was plotting to kill the Jews – you’d think he’d know!
Esther: The turning point of the Megilla is when Mordechai tries to convince Esther to save the Jews once Haman’s decree became public. This dialogue in Chapter 4 is very interesting because Esther appears not to be overly bothered with saving the Jewish people. After Mordechai informs her of all the events – just in case those in the palace didn’t know – she still makes excuses for not doing anything i.e. that she would die if she approached the King. Although she is eventually persuaded, at first she didn’t know what was going on.
The Jews: Happily living a life in Persia, the Jews did not seem bothered to heed the call to return to the land of Israel and rebuild the Temple. And there are plenty of midrashim that reflect this theme, for instance the ones which talk about the Jews happily drinking from non-kosher vessels in Achashverosh’s feast. They also seemed happy to bow down to Haman.
Mordechai: At last, someone who understands what is going on: From the start Mordechai would not bow down to Haman – he would not compromise his faith. As soon as he heard the news of Haman’s decree, he tore his clothes and cried out in the center of Shushan. Mordechai was a man of action and through his deeds, managed to save the Jewish people.
Haman: The person who had the plan from the start, Haman understood the situation. He describes the Jews as “one people; scattered and dispersed among the peoples…and the laws of the King they do not observe…” (Esther 3:8). We learn that when the Megilla uses the word King, it really means G-d, and this brings Haman’s statement to a new light: that he understood that the Jews were not united and not serving G-d, which led him to conclude that now would be a good time to attempt to destroy them.
We now realize that the only people who really understood the spiritual messages throughout the Purim story were Mordechai and Haman. Both knew that the Jewish people were not united, in the wrong country and not observant. Whereas Haman used this knowledge to try and destroy the Jews, Mordechai used to save them.
The reason we drink on Purim is because after we are drunk (to a reasonable extent!), we can often have great clarity and the words we speak are usually what we really think. And the main task during the Purim Seudah is to understand the message of the Megilla and the way we do that is to drink ‘until one doesn’t know the difference between ‘Blessed is Mordechai’ and ‘Cursed is Haman’’. This means that we need to understand that in reality, there is no difference between the two of them!
On Purim we need to get to a level where we know that the message of the Purim story is that the Jews should be ‘Am Yisrael, b’eretz Yisrael al pi Torat Yisrael’ (a united people in the land of Israel living according to the Torah). Once we have attained such a level, it is almost arbitrary to differentiate between Mordechai and Haman – both were part of Hashem’s master plan to bring about the eternal redemption of the Jewish people.
NETZACH
We are told that when Mashiach comes, the Jewish year will change and many chagim will no longer be relevant – but Purim will never be nullified. Why is this?
Most chagim celebrate an event in time, for instance Pesach celebrates the Exodus from Egypt and Shavuot celebrates the giving of the Torah. Many people will say that Purim also celebrates such an event. However upon closer examination, you will find that Purim marks an event that never happened.
The central theme of Purim is Haman’s attempt to destroy the Jewish people and his ultimate failure. It is important to understand that this attempt took place in the month of Nisan when the decree was proclaimed - within a short period of time, Haman was hanged. The next 11 months then became a ‘waiting game’ for the Jewish people in which they continued to live normal lives knowing that next spring, there was a day in which it was legal to kill Jews. Mordechai and Esther did manage to obtain a counter-decree permitting the Jews to fight back but Persian law could not prevent the reality of a planned civil war for 13th Adar.
When the day came, there was fighting and the Jews won but the danger was not nearly as much as it would have been had Haman been alive. The main danger had clearly passed with Haman’s death. Therefore, what we are actually celebrating is the non-event of Purim: Haman’s lots did not work and the Jews won.
This victory is more than just a simple ‘good beats bad’ war: since the challenge to the Jewish people was total destruction, the fact that the Jews survived and everything was turned around (as the Megilla says: V’nahafoch Hu – Esther 9:1) meant that a total victory was achieved. And this total victory, though it might be celebrated on Purim, is really a chag for eternity – indeed the story of Purim spread over 11 months in the calendar and the fact that the main events took place on Pesach, a month after the day of Purim in Adar, is not coincidental.
Chagim like Pesach, which celebrates freedom and the miracles done for our forefathers in Egypt, will be surpassed in the future when Mashiach comes. But the concept of Purim will always be relevant at it celebrates the very essence of the eternity (netzach) of the Jewish people as G-d’s chosen nation.
There is a halacha that one must read/hear the Megilla in order. Why? We have all heard the reason why Hashem’s name isn’t mentioned in the Megilla – to show that in reality He was behind every action and that it the miracle was that the different events happened ‘by chance’ in an order by which the Jews managed to survive.
But what of the Jews living through the story? Did they know what was going on? Did they know they were living through the Megilla or did they just think that the events were a series of random events?
This point should make us ask ourselves the same question: do we know that today, in 5768, we are possibly living through the final period of exile culminating in the ultimate geula? Do we see events as unconnected or are we seeing a Megilla unfold before our eyes (note the word Megilla means a scroll and the word ‘megaleh’ means to reveal’).
Crucially, are we seeing the world and its events from the perspective of man (looking at a small piece of a tapestry from the bottom)? Or do we see Hashem’s perspective – the tapestry in all its beauty.
AD D’LO YADA
There is a strange halacha that one should become drunk on Purim so much so as not to know the difference between ‘Blessed is Mordechai’ and ‘Cursed is Haman’. However it is widely known – and experienced - that this level of drunkenness is fairly extreme. Furthermore, we are also expected to daven the ma’ariv service after the Purim seudah and we also know that if one is too drunk to speak before a King, one should not daven.
In order to unravel this mystery we need to understand the message of the Purim story. Let’s analyse the various characters and groups involved in the Purim story and ask whether the following question: did they get the message? Did they know what was actually going on? Let’s see…
Achashverosh: One of the storylines in the Megilla is how the king in the Purim story appears to wield control but in reality, does not. Achashverosh never makes decisions without consulting his ministers, be it Haman or later, Mordechai. He is happy to let a foreigner, Haman the Agagite, to run the country and is seemingly shocked when Esther reveals to him that Haman was plotting to kill the Jews – you’d think he’d know!
Esther: The turning point of the Megilla is when Mordechai tries to convince Esther to save the Jews once Haman’s decree became public. This dialogue in Chapter 4 is very interesting because Esther appears not to be overly bothered with saving the Jewish people. After Mordechai informs her of all the events – just in case those in the palace didn’t know – she still makes excuses for not doing anything i.e. that she would die if she approached the King. Although she is eventually persuaded, at first she didn’t know what was going on.
The Jews: Happily living a life in Persia, the Jews did not seem bothered to heed the call to return to the land of Israel and rebuild the Temple. And there are plenty of midrashim that reflect this theme, for instance the ones which talk about the Jews happily drinking from non-kosher vessels in Achashverosh’s feast. They also seemed happy to bow down to Haman.
Mordechai: At last, someone who understands what is going on: From the start Mordechai would not bow down to Haman – he would not compromise his faith. As soon as he heard the news of Haman’s decree, he tore his clothes and cried out in the center of Shushan. Mordechai was a man of action and through his deeds, managed to save the Jewish people.
Haman: The person who had the plan from the start, Haman understood the situation. He describes the Jews as “one people; scattered and dispersed among the peoples…and the laws of the King they do not observe…” (Esther 3:8). We learn that when the Megilla uses the word King, it really means G-d, and this brings Haman’s statement to a new light: that he understood that the Jews were not united and not serving G-d, which led him to conclude that now would be a good time to attempt to destroy them.
We now realize that the only people who really understood the spiritual messages throughout the Purim story were Mordechai and Haman. Both knew that the Jewish people were not united, in the wrong country and not observant. Whereas Haman used this knowledge to try and destroy the Jews, Mordechai used to save them.
The reason we drink on Purim is because after we are drunk (to a reasonable extent!), we can often have great clarity and the words we speak are usually what we really think. And the main task during the Purim Seudah is to understand the message of the Megilla and the way we do that is to drink ‘until one doesn’t know the difference between ‘Blessed is Mordechai’ and ‘Cursed is Haman’’. This means that we need to understand that in reality, there is no difference between the two of them!
On Purim we need to get to a level where we know that the message of the Purim story is that the Jews should be ‘Am Yisrael, b’eretz Yisrael al pi Torat Yisrael’ (a united people in the land of Israel living according to the Torah). Once we have attained such a level, it is almost arbitrary to differentiate between Mordechai and Haman – both were part of Hashem’s master plan to bring about the eternal redemption of the Jewish people.
NETZACH
We are told that when Mashiach comes, the Jewish year will change and many chagim will no longer be relevant – but Purim will never be nullified. Why is this?
Most chagim celebrate an event in time, for instance Pesach celebrates the Exodus from Egypt and Shavuot celebrates the giving of the Torah. Many people will say that Purim also celebrates such an event. However upon closer examination, you will find that Purim marks an event that never happened.
The central theme of Purim is Haman’s attempt to destroy the Jewish people and his ultimate failure. It is important to understand that this attempt took place in the month of Nisan when the decree was proclaimed - within a short period of time, Haman was hanged. The next 11 months then became a ‘waiting game’ for the Jewish people in which they continued to live normal lives knowing that next spring, there was a day in which it was legal to kill Jews. Mordechai and Esther did manage to obtain a counter-decree permitting the Jews to fight back but Persian law could not prevent the reality of a planned civil war for 13th Adar.
When the day came, there was fighting and the Jews won but the danger was not nearly as much as it would have been had Haman been alive. The main danger had clearly passed with Haman’s death. Therefore, what we are actually celebrating is the non-event of Purim: Haman’s lots did not work and the Jews won.
This victory is more than just a simple ‘good beats bad’ war: since the challenge to the Jewish people was total destruction, the fact that the Jews survived and everything was turned around (as the Megilla says: V’nahafoch Hu – Esther 9:1) meant that a total victory was achieved. And this total victory, though it might be celebrated on Purim, is really a chag for eternity – indeed the story of Purim spread over 11 months in the calendar and the fact that the main events took place on Pesach, a month after the day of Purim in Adar, is not coincidental.
Chagim like Pesach, which celebrates freedom and the miracles done for our forefathers in Egypt, will be surpassed in the future when Mashiach comes. But the concept of Purim will always be relevant at it celebrates the very essence of the eternity (netzach) of the Jewish people as G-d’s chosen nation.
“Hello, it’s the Rabbi…Could you help make up a minyan?”
Depending on our mood, whether we have done other good deeds that day, what’s on TV tonight, whether our football team is playing or not and what’s for supper, we may get in the car, drive off and be the most popular man in the Shul or just stay at home.
A minyan is an intriguing concept. If we really value the Amidah, the silent meditation, as the central point of Tefillah (prayer), why do we have to do it with 9 other people? We can concentrate much better on our own surely? No one to talk to, nothing to look at and no need to worry who’s going to take the services, what kind of voice he has and how long it will take?
Firstly, let us understand the seriousness of what we are doing. To stand upright in front of a King and make our requests (and not just any old requests – we ask for big things like full health, rebuilding of the Temple and peace to Israel!!) is an awesome responsibility. If we just did it on our own, how can we, with all our faults, be taken seriously?
Davening alongside other people allows us to bypass this problem. We aren’t seen as individuals with our merits and failures, which could influence whether our prayers will be accepted; rather we all blend into one community. We learn from Avraham’s attempt to find 10 men in Sodom that that is the minimum number for a community.
But one of the most beautiful concepts of a minyan is that however devoted you are as a Jew, you can never fulfil your obligation to pray to Hashem in full unless you have 9 other willing men to do it with. Even though when you have a minyan you can reach your own personal heights of spirituality and become close with Hashem by concentrating on your Amidah; as long as there is no minyan, you do not have the same ability. This leads to possibly one of the greatest concepts about Judaism: Each person has their own unique potential but it can only be realised within a community.
This fits into a wider concept of ‘Kol Yisrael Areivim Zeh LaZeh’ (all Israel are guarantors for one another). This principle is behind the halacha that one can say kiddush for someone who has not heard it yet even after he has said it for himself. In fact, one could say kiddush 100 times on Friday night as long as you are fulfilling other people’s obligations!!
However, you might ask, that’s not fair! Why is it that I don’t get to fulfil my obligation just because someone else isn’t helping me out? The answer is simple: the mission statement of the Jewish people is not to be a nation of individuals with some better or more devoted than others. Rather it is to be a single nation with a single purpose, which is to reflect the oneness of Hashem and His ways onto the world through the study and practice of the Torah to make it a better place.
Which is why next time, when it’s the choice between watching the football or being part of G-d’s plan for the world, helping us to become better people, sensitive to the needs of those around us, we know what to choose!
A minyan is an intriguing concept. If we really value the Amidah, the silent meditation, as the central point of Tefillah (prayer), why do we have to do it with 9 other people? We can concentrate much better on our own surely? No one to talk to, nothing to look at and no need to worry who’s going to take the services, what kind of voice he has and how long it will take?
Firstly, let us understand the seriousness of what we are doing. To stand upright in front of a King and make our requests (and not just any old requests – we ask for big things like full health, rebuilding of the Temple and peace to Israel!!) is an awesome responsibility. If we just did it on our own, how can we, with all our faults, be taken seriously?
Davening alongside other people allows us to bypass this problem. We aren’t seen as individuals with our merits and failures, which could influence whether our prayers will be accepted; rather we all blend into one community. We learn from Avraham’s attempt to find 10 men in Sodom that that is the minimum number for a community.
But one of the most beautiful concepts of a minyan is that however devoted you are as a Jew, you can never fulfil your obligation to pray to Hashem in full unless you have 9 other willing men to do it with. Even though when you have a minyan you can reach your own personal heights of spirituality and become close with Hashem by concentrating on your Amidah; as long as there is no minyan, you do not have the same ability. This leads to possibly one of the greatest concepts about Judaism: Each person has their own unique potential but it can only be realised within a community.
This fits into a wider concept of ‘Kol Yisrael Areivim Zeh LaZeh’ (all Israel are guarantors for one another). This principle is behind the halacha that one can say kiddush for someone who has not heard it yet even after he has said it for himself. In fact, one could say kiddush 100 times on Friday night as long as you are fulfilling other people’s obligations!!
However, you might ask, that’s not fair! Why is it that I don’t get to fulfil my obligation just because someone else isn’t helping me out? The answer is simple: the mission statement of the Jewish people is not to be a nation of individuals with some better or more devoted than others. Rather it is to be a single nation with a single purpose, which is to reflect the oneness of Hashem and His ways onto the world through the study and practice of the Torah to make it a better place.
Which is why next time, when it’s the choice between watching the football or being part of G-d’s plan for the world, helping us to become better people, sensitive to the needs of those around us, we know what to choose!
Frumkeit
Nowadays, there are many frum people. In fact, it is quite fashionable to be frum. Being frum often means wearing certain clothes: kippot, black hats, pe’ot, white shirts, black suits. There are frum places, frum phrases and frum pronounciation of Hebrew.
But what does frum mean? In Yiddish, it means ‘pious’ or someone who keeps Mitzvot. However in modern terminology it is a word often used to describe someone who is outwardly observant, or at least more observant than the observer. There has developed a frum culture, which naturally results in the labelling of other things as ‘not frum’.
Another aspect of ‘frumkeit’ is the performing of ‘chumrot’, translated as stringencies, in Jewish law. As opposed to just doing a mitzva (commandment) or keeping a halacha (Jewish law), a chumra can show that a person wants to go beyond the letter of the law and beautify G-d. One notable example in which practically the whole Jewish world does this is at Chanuka, when all one technically needs to do is light one candle each night – yet everyone does more.
However there are times when the chumra can sometimes be taken out of context so much so that the point of why the mitzvah or halacha is done in the first place is forgotten. For instance, a person could refuse to bentsch in front of a woman without her hair covered. In this situation, the person is being very strict on the bentsching side (he could easily just avert his eyes rather than make a big deal out of it) but is at the same time potentially causing embarrassment to the woman in question, something which is a serious sin in Judaism.
The major factor that has been ignored in the mad rush to take on chumrot is that sometimes, by being ‘machmir’ (stringent) in one area, one becomes automatically ‘mekel’ (lenient) in another area. In the above example, the person was machmir on ensuring that he doesn’t even come close to bentsching whilst seeing a woman’s hair (which is forbidden). However he was being mekel on the mitzvah of loving one’s neighbour as oneself. This means that the person has effectively weighed up the situation and decided: I am more concerned to ensure my bentsching is hazard-free than the mitzva of loving my fellow and it makes sense to be lenient on that.
The tragedy in the religious world today is that this analysis is often not carried out and many situations result in a ‘Chilul Hashem’ (desecration of Hashem’s name), which is one of the most serious sins a Jew can do. This can have knock-on effects with secular people viewing the actions of religious Jew as warped and hypocritical.
Another instance of this problem occurring is in the ‘Ba’alei Teshuva’ world. Ba’alei Teshuva is the name for people who have returned to their Jewish roots and have become observant. Whilst this is a beautiful movement consisting of many genuine people’s decisions to lead a Jewish life, it should not be ignored that there are some whose religious growth is predominantly external as opposed to internal. It is all very well changing one’s clothes, name, speech and commitment to mitzvot such as Shabbat and Kashrut – but if the person acts in a ‘holier than thou’ manner, thus deterring others from following his path, it is a travesty for the Jewish people and in particular, the Ba’al Teshuva himself, for he is missing the point of the religion he professes.
Our mission is to ensure that we don’t look to ‘be frum’. Rather we must always be searching for the truth and what G-d really wants us to do. For some, this means taking on mitzvot and becoming a ‘Ba’al Teshuva’ and for others it means evaluating one’s current religious actions and working out whether they are motivated for the right reasons or just to look frum, or frummer than others. For most people, the mission requires both paths; a commitment to grow religiously without leaving others behind; a commitment to be as machmir on the laws of Shabbat as on Ahavat Yisrael, loving fellow Jews; and finally, a commitment to look at life as much as possible with perspective, rather than the narrow perceptions of our desires.
But what does frum mean? In Yiddish, it means ‘pious’ or someone who keeps Mitzvot. However in modern terminology it is a word often used to describe someone who is outwardly observant, or at least more observant than the observer. There has developed a frum culture, which naturally results in the labelling of other things as ‘not frum’.
Another aspect of ‘frumkeit’ is the performing of ‘chumrot’, translated as stringencies, in Jewish law. As opposed to just doing a mitzva (commandment) or keeping a halacha (Jewish law), a chumra can show that a person wants to go beyond the letter of the law and beautify G-d. One notable example in which practically the whole Jewish world does this is at Chanuka, when all one technically needs to do is light one candle each night – yet everyone does more.
However there are times when the chumra can sometimes be taken out of context so much so that the point of why the mitzvah or halacha is done in the first place is forgotten. For instance, a person could refuse to bentsch in front of a woman without her hair covered. In this situation, the person is being very strict on the bentsching side (he could easily just avert his eyes rather than make a big deal out of it) but is at the same time potentially causing embarrassment to the woman in question, something which is a serious sin in Judaism.
The major factor that has been ignored in the mad rush to take on chumrot is that sometimes, by being ‘machmir’ (stringent) in one area, one becomes automatically ‘mekel’ (lenient) in another area. In the above example, the person was machmir on ensuring that he doesn’t even come close to bentsching whilst seeing a woman’s hair (which is forbidden). However he was being mekel on the mitzvah of loving one’s neighbour as oneself. This means that the person has effectively weighed up the situation and decided: I am more concerned to ensure my bentsching is hazard-free than the mitzva of loving my fellow and it makes sense to be lenient on that.
The tragedy in the religious world today is that this analysis is often not carried out and many situations result in a ‘Chilul Hashem’ (desecration of Hashem’s name), which is one of the most serious sins a Jew can do. This can have knock-on effects with secular people viewing the actions of religious Jew as warped and hypocritical.
Another instance of this problem occurring is in the ‘Ba’alei Teshuva’ world. Ba’alei Teshuva is the name for people who have returned to their Jewish roots and have become observant. Whilst this is a beautiful movement consisting of many genuine people’s decisions to lead a Jewish life, it should not be ignored that there are some whose religious growth is predominantly external as opposed to internal. It is all very well changing one’s clothes, name, speech and commitment to mitzvot such as Shabbat and Kashrut – but if the person acts in a ‘holier than thou’ manner, thus deterring others from following his path, it is a travesty for the Jewish people and in particular, the Ba’al Teshuva himself, for he is missing the point of the religion he professes.
Our mission is to ensure that we don’t look to ‘be frum’. Rather we must always be searching for the truth and what G-d really wants us to do. For some, this means taking on mitzvot and becoming a ‘Ba’al Teshuva’ and for others it means evaluating one’s current religious actions and working out whether they are motivated for the right reasons or just to look frum, or frummer than others. For most people, the mission requires both paths; a commitment to grow religiously without leaving others behind; a commitment to be as machmir on the laws of Shabbat as on Ahavat Yisrael, loving fellow Jews; and finally, a commitment to look at life as much as possible with perspective, rather than the narrow perceptions of our desires.
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