On Our Minds & Hearts

 As this post is being written, Israel continues to be under a spate of terror attacks. This latest round began during the holiday of Sukkot when a young couple was gunned down in cold blood in the presence of their young children.

By Devorah Shanowitz

Yesterday, I saw something on facebook that moved me to tears.

It was someone singing a poignant Hasidic song.

But moved to tears? Why?

Let me explain.

Hasidic music often draws from mystical Jewish teachings, and carries messages that are quite deep and esoteric. The song in question,  V’afilu Bhastara,  is a song that’s been quite popular in the Hasidic genre, because it touches on the existential issue of faith, when God seems absent.

The question of Jewish suffering, or Why Bad Things Happen to Good People, is that something that we as people have been struggling with ever since Moses cried to God: Lamah Hare’osah: Why Have You Done Bad to Your People?

It’s a question not easily answered.

When God seems absent, our Jewish teachings tell us, it is as if He is turned away from us. This phenomenon is referred to as  Hester Ponim, Hiding of the Face, so that in exile, in difficulty, in tragedy, it seems to us that God is not there or that He does not exist. We feel unheard, unseen, uncared for.  Hastara. The hiding of God, as it were.  In our liturgy and our prayers, we  request that the reverse be true, that God turn his Face towards us, so that we openly perceive Divine protection and love.

Back to the song, V’afilu B’hastara. Even in the Hiddeness.

Jewish mysticism teaches us that although we experience Hastara, that is not the whole story. Hasidic thought teaches us that even when there is a perception of G-d’s absence, G-d is still there with us, always. Even in our darkest moments, even in our most challenging times; even in our deepest suffering. He is there, with us. Standing with us. This idea is expressed poignantly by this song, V’afilu Bhastara. The translation of the lyrics are as follows:

Even in the Hiddeness
That is within the Hiddeness
Surely, even there
G-d is found

Even
Behind the darkest
And most difficult things
That happen to you
I stand with you
Says G-d
I stand with you
I stand with you
I stand with you

This week in Israel, Malachi Rosenfeld, a 26 year old young man was killed when Arab terrorists shot at his car and fatally wounded him. Malachi was handsome, athletic, bright young man who was driving home from a basketball game with friends, when he  was gunned down in cold blood for the crime of being an Israeli and a  Jew.   

At his funeral this week, his father, Eliezer Rosenfeld, got up to deliver his eulogy. But instead of speaking, he began singing. And the song he sang was V’afilu Bhastra,  the song about God  standing with us in our darkest hour. He then added his own words: Through tears he said: God, WE are also standing. We are standing with you. We will always stand as a people.

Tomorrow, Shabbat, the 17^th of Tammuz, ushers in the “The Three Weeks”. It marks the period of the destruction of Jerusalem and the holy Temple in Jerusalem, culminating with  the saddest of days on the Jewish calendar, Tisha B’av. Although we have Jerusalem, we still mourn, because almost every day we hear of an incident, like Malachi, or  an anti-Semitic incident in Europe, or a threat elsewhere.

Yet, Jewish mysticism teaches that even through all of this,  God is standing with us.  

We try to study this teaching and to internalize it. And it’s not easy.   Yet, as I watched the clip on face book of Eliezer Rosenfeld singing at his son’s funeral, I thought: What an incredible faith of a brave Jewish father:  In the throes of the rawness of his pain, in his moment of acute loss and who through is  bitter tears, he  refuses to let God hide.

And I saw  eternal Jewish faith personified, an eternal Jewish people personified.

A people who refuses to let God hide.  

And I cried.

 See video here

 Song Track for V'afilu Bhastara

The Friday, when I heard about the news of a terrorist attack on a Kosher Supermarket in France, I had lots to do. After all, it was Friday. But it was difficult to do anything but pray and worry...

As I intended to make challah for shabbat, I decided to double the mitzvah I was engaged in, and in the merit of the hostages, make two batches instead of my usual one. At a time of crisis, we are enjoined to pray and do good deeds, so this was going to be mine.

Have you ever heard of the Yiddish expression "Der Pintele Yid"?

It's one of those things that are not easily described, but when you see it, you just know it.

Last night, I heard the sad news that Joan Rivers had passed away. I thought of her recent epic rant in defense of Israel  and  I thought of  Der Pintale Yid.

And tumbling out of my mind, came these words, which I posted last night on my facebook page:

Joan Rivers will forever be remembered by  one of her greatest and final acts: her courageous and inimitable defense of her people and Israel. At a time when Jews around the world felt intimidated and beleaguered, she rose to their defense with spunk and strength. She was a proud Jew and made us proud. This will be her legacy, and most certainly 'the ticket' that will carry her soul to great peace. May her memory be blessed.

When push came to shove, Joan Rivers' Pintele Yidcame out, blazing. Her passionate defense of Israel and the Jewish people welled up from deep inside her. From the least of expected of places, came the most succinct and heartfelt advocacy on behalf of our brothers and sisters in Israel. She was a far cry from a Rebitizin and or a Jewish community leader.  But when her people were falsely accused, her Jewishness exploded.

Der Pintale Yid.

Throughout our long and difficult history, through challenges and persecutions, we as a people have faced many trials.  But what has never wavered, and what will exist forever, is that spark of unshakable faith and Jewish identity that is hidden deep in the inner recesses of our souls, Der Pintale Yid. It emerges at the most unlikely of times and at the most unlikely of places.

And like the Jewish people, it endures; defiant and eternal.

 Mr. Irwin Beutel, ob'm  
Yitzchok Gedaliah ben Binyamin 

This week we lost a dear and devoted friend. Irwin Beutel passed away on Tuesday after a brief illness. His passing leaves a void in our hearts and our community.  

There exists three crowns of glory, says the Mishna: The crown of Torah, the crown of Royalty and the crown of the Kohen. However, the Mishna informs us, there is a crown that supercedes them all: Keter Shem Tov, The Crown of the Good Name. 

Irwin was graced with the Crown of the Good Name. 

He was one of few words, but great deeds. His was a generous spirit, and he gave of his time and his resources to many an organization. He was kind, gentle and gracious; a true gentleman, or as we say, a true mentch.  He was sensitive, caring and compassionate. He had a wonderful smile a beautiful sense of humor. He cherished life and celebrating it with the people he cared about and loved. Irwin took great joy in thesimchas of others and was always delighted to share in a festive celebration. He was a dear and loyal friend.  

Irwin cared passionately about Israel. He visited there every year and was involved with many organizations there, most notably Tel Aviv University. He was dedicated to Jewish education and continuity, and supported a myriad of Jewish schools and outreach projects, including the acclaimed Chabad of Westmount Irwin Beutel Lecture Series. 

Walk Modestly with G-d, we are enjoined. Irwin did so with grace and sensitivity. He leaves behind  a legacy of kindness and good deeds, and a most a glorious crown of his good name.  

May his memory be for a blessing. 

 Be comforted, be comforted, My people.

So begins this week Haftorah reading, hence this Shabbat is nicknamed, "Shabbat Nachamu", the Shabbat of 'Be comforted'.  In the Haftorah (the weekly reading that follows the Torah reading) the prophet Isaiah comforts Israel; he speaks to the city of Jerusalem and reassures it that her suffering will soon be over.  

Be comforted, be comforted, My people.

Is there not a reading more timely, more poignant and more needed? As Israel emerges from a battle with yet another enemy who seeks to destroy her, as she faces the specter of world condemnation even as she fights a defensive war against an enemy with no morals, and especially, as she mourns the deaths of more than 60 of her best, brightest and most courageous men, the words of this week’s Haftorah, filled with words of comfort, promise and peace,  resonate profoundly.  

Be comforted, be comforted, My people.  

Throughout our long exile, through the millennia of expulsions, pogroms and persecutions, the words of our prophets, the promise for a better tomorrow has inspired and filled our people with an eternal hope. It is this hope that has sustained us, guided us and inspired us. It is this hope that we have shared with all of humanity, and it is this hope that will bring blessing and peace to the world. It is precisely this hope that we are promised in this week's Haftorah. Better, more life-giving words could not be expressed at this difficult time.  

Be comforted, be comforted, My people.

 "Libi Bamizrach, Vaani Bsof Maarav " 

"My heart is in the East, yet I am in the far West." 

These evocative words, penned by the great Sefardic poet, Rabbi Yehuda Halevi of Toledo, Spain,  undoubtedly express our unspoken thoughts and feelings as Israel faces war; as we witness Israel's brave soldiers, some still in their teens,  courageously going forward to protect Israel's population from rockets and terrorists attacks. As Jews living outside of Israel, we can only watch and wait.

Or not. 

Tomorrow is Shabbat. As usual, in the  millennia-old Jewish tradition, when the Torah is removed from the Aron Hakodesh (the Ark) for reading, we will chant: Kuma Hashem Veyafutzu Ovecha, Veyanusu Sanecha Mipanecha. "Rise up, O G-d, and Your enemies shall disperse and Your enemies will run away from You".

Think about it: We are about to read the Torah, and we invoke Israel's safety. When we pray for Israel's security, we hold up the Torah. The two are bound up with each other. 

No matter where we are, there is an inherent connection between every Jew and the Land of Israel and the people of Israel ; between the safety of Israel and our connection to the Torah. 

Intuitively,  we know this truth. Whose heart is not stirred when we see an Israeli soldier on the battlefield wrapped in a Talis. Who is not moved when we witness a soldier wearing tefillin?

We are connected. One land, one Torah, one people. 

So let's not just watch and wait. Let's connect to the Land of Israel and to the people of Israel through the Torah of Israel. Our merit becomes their merit. Our mitzvah becomes their mitzvah, because we are one people, with one land and one Torah.  So, women, take a moment to light shabbat candles. Men, put on tefillin. Lets get our children to give some tzedaka and to say a prayer. If you already do these, pick another mitzvah. For some suggestions on mitzvot,read here. 

Wishing us and all of us Israel, a true Shabbat Shalom in the full sense of the word: a Shabbat filled with peace. Amen. 

 Israel is on my mind. Israel is on all our minds.

As I worked this week, whether at home, or in the office, from morning until night,  my computer was tuned to a live stream of news reporting from Israel's Arutz 10. 

I listened/watched in worry as the rocket attacks from Gaza increased in number, speed and distance, as  little children ran to shelters, as homes got destroyed. I watched with awe and pride as Israelis responded with resilience, with the ingenuity of brilliant technology and with supreme humanity as they try to defend their citizens while trying their best to avoid civilian casualties. 

Then, as the rockets continued to fall, furiously,  without abandon, with out stop, I started to notice a pattern: Incredibly, time after time, barrage of rockets after barrage of rockets, Israelis were emerging unscathed, unhurt: A car takes a direct hit on the road exploding into a ball of fire, but the driver escapes, unharmed. A house is destroyed, while it inhabitants remain safe. A rocket falls, but  right in between two homes. Over and over, stories begin to emerge of small miracles, one, and then, another, then another. 

Small miracles...that are not small at all. It takes only one injury to realize the catastrophe that these rockets can wreak. 

During the First Gulf War, when Iraq threatened Israel with scuds, Jews the world over were overcome by panic and fear. At the time, many visited the Rebbe seeking advice and guidance about travel to Israel or having loved ones leave Israel as the danger approached and intensified. Over and over, the Rebbe repeated that Israel is safe, that the Guardian of Israel neither sleeps nor slumbers, that Israel is a land that is continuously watched by G-d. Miraculously, during that crisis no one was killed by a scud attack.

Below please find a short video clip with words of encouragement from the Rebbe.

Our sages tell us that "the words of the righteous stand for all time". 

May G-d continue to bring success to  Operation Protective Edge, and safety and security to all our soldiers and to our brothers and sisters in the land of Israel. May the Land of Israel and its people, be blessed with peace. 

Israel is on my mind. Israel is on all our minds.

As I worked this week, whether at home, or in the office, from morning until night,  my computer was tuned to a live stream of news reporting from Israel's Arutz 10. 

I listened/watched in worry as the rocket attacks from Gaza increased in number, speed and distance, as  little children ran to shelters, as homes got destroyed. I watched with awe and pride as Israelis responded with resilience, with the ingenuity of brilliant technology and with supreme humanity as they try to defend their citizens while trying their best to avoid civilian casualties. 

Then, as the rockets continued to fall, furiously,  without abandon, with out stop, I started to notice a pattern: Incredibly, time after time, barrage of rockets after barrage of rockets, Israelis were emerging unscathed, unhurt: A car takes a direct hit on the road exploding into a ball of fire, but the driver escapes, unharmed. A house is destroyed, while it inhabitants remain safe. A rocket falls, but  right in between two homes. Over and over, stories begin to emerge of small miracles, one, and then, another, then another. 

Small miracles...that are not small at all. It takes only one injury to realize the catastrophe that these rockets can wreak. 

During the First Gulf War, when Iraq threatened Israel with scuds, Jews the world over were overcome by panic and fear. At the time, many visited the Rebbe seeking advice and guidance about travel to Israel or having loved ones leave Israel as the danger approached and intensified. Over and over, the Rebbe repeated that Israel is safe, that the Guardian of Israel neither sleeps nor slumbers, that Israel is a land that is continuously watched by G-d. Miraculously, during that crisis no one was killed by a scud attack.

Our sages tell us that "the words of the righteous stand for all time". 

May G-d continue to bring success to  Operation Protective Edge, and safety and security to all our soldiers and to our brothers and sisters in the land of Israel. May the Land of Israel and its people, be blessed with peace. 

Amen!

It was the worst of times.

We were driving to New York to commemorate the 20th Yarzeit of the Rebbe, when the message came in. 

"They killed our boys.  The **** killed our boys.  

Baruch Dayan Emes, (Blessed be the True Judge) I whispered, shocked. 

So this was it. After 18 days of hope, prayer, mitzvot and faith.

Then: So this was it? After 18 days of hope, prayer, mitzvot and faith?

It was the worst of times. 

But then, I heard the words Rachel Fraenkel, mother of Naftali: G-d does not work for us, she said. Sometimes you simply cannot avert a destined decree.

With tears in my eyes, I watched via video as  she eulogized her son at his funeral. She spoke to the question that was burning in the hearts and minds of Jewish people, everywhere: What of all of the prayers and good deeds? What of our unity? Was it all for nothing?  

No, she insisted. The outpouring of prayer and good deeds, is  in it of itself beautiful. Every prayer is worthy and accomplishes. There is not one drop of love and kindness that is for naught. That every mitzvah and good deed achieves, and  stands on its own merit. 

This from a bereaved mother at her son's funeral. 

So, this was it: 18 days of hope, prayer, mitzvot and faith.

A people united in love, devotion and caring. A people of prayer, a people of good deeds, a people of faith and gratitude.

And from the depths of their grief, a people of strength, kindness, dignity and unshakable faith.  

"Mi K'amcho Yisrael, goy echad Baaretz"

"Who is like Your people Israel?  A unique nation on earth."- King David. 

In the worst of times, it was the best of times. 

This upcoming Tuesday marks 20 years since the passing of our beloved Rebbe, Rabbi Menachem Mendel Schneersohn, may his merit protect us. 

As this milestone anniversary nears, books are being filled (including by Jewish literary giants Steinsaltz and Telushkin) conferences are being held, and documentaries are being released,  all which attempt to decipher and understand what made the Rebbe the Rebbe. 

The Zohar states that a tzadik's influence is greater after his passing than in his own lifetime. Today, twenty years after the Rebbe's passing,  this axiomatic statement is borne out as the Rebbe's inspiration continues to bring light to the Jewish people all over the world...be it in Bangkok or Berlin, Helsinki or Houston, Melbourne or  Mexico, Vancouver or Vietnam. Like Maimonides, he was once in a millennium scholar and leader whose influence continues to widen and reverberate.

But for me, the Rebbe is simply my Rebbe, my teacher. As I teenager, I could sense keenly his love for humanity, and his concern for every human being. I felt empowered by his deep respect for the Jewish woman and the importance of her vital role in Jewish continuity. I was awed by his selflessness, his courage in challenging the status-quo, and his strength is standing up for Jewish values. As a teenager, I connected to his faith in the youth, his calls for action, and his belief in the destiny of the Jewish people.

But as I write all of this, I recall a video of  a person's encounter with the Rebbe that I had seen a while back:

 A New York city councilman, visiting the Rebbe, was impressed that the Rebbe recalled in precise detail a conversation  that had taken place between the two of them some 19 years earlier, where the Rebbe had asked him to advocate on behalf of Jewish education. "You're amazing!" the councilman exclaimed to the Rebbe.  "to remember that; it's nineteen years ago. Nineteen years!" To which the Rebbe responded with a beaming smile: "and what will be the benefit for the community that I am amazing?" The councilman laughed, as he understood the Rebbe's point. He pledged to do more for Jewish education. 

So, as the books are written, the seminars held, the memorials celebrated, I hear the Rebbe's words in my mind: What will benefit  the Jewish community if I am amazing?

Rabbi Adin Steinsaltz says that the Rebbe did not leave a legacy, he left marching orders. Meaning, that in true fashion of what the Rebbe would have wanted, we honour this spiritual giant, not by remembering, but by doing more on behalf of the Jewish people and to benefit all humanity. 

To this end, we pledge to re-double our efforts on behalf of unaffiliated youth. We invite you to reach out to your circle of friends and make a difference in their lives. Invite the lonely to your table, share shabbat with a friend who doesn't celebrate, fill your home with Jewish books. Do a Mitzvah that you find hard. 

Let's honour the Rebbe with action. Let's honour the Rebbe by making a difference for ourselves and for those around us.