Showing posts with label Yom Kippur. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Yom Kippur. Show all posts

Tuesday, September 29, 2009

Yom Kippur, the morning after

Yom shlishi, 11 Tishrei 5770.



Baruch Hashem, it was a very meaningful Yom Kippur at Chez Mizrachi.  And, thanks to learning physically sensible preparations over the years, the fasting was not difficult.

Following Yom Kippur, the minhag is to show Hashem how determined we are to change our natures by starting the morning prayers a bit earlier, and to be scrupulous about keeping other mitzvot and "new year's resolutions."  Walking off the weight is, as ever (sigh), high on the list of physical corrections we are working on.  In keeping with this custom, I arose at 5:30, davened, and then accompanied the Dearly Beloved on his earlier-than-usual walk to the Beit Knesset.  After dropping him off, I continued our usual walking route, stopping at the makolet to pick up sufficient milk and cereal to feed the starving hordes.

Please join me for a bit of our very lovely morning walk.



We are sweetly conscious of the fact that there are only a few days left to say the bracha "Morid HaTal," thanking Hashem for bringing the dew.


A fork in the road.  Shall I take the road less traveled?

Not today.  I think I'll take the path that allows for more steps on the trusty pedometer.


(Part of the fitness plan, to be followed by a healthy breakfast of yogurt, fresh fruit, and that cup of coffee I've resisted for over a week!)

Passing Jews on their way to Shachrit, I share in the warm greeting which may not be unique to Neve Daniel (though I have yet to hear it anywhere else):

"Boker tov!"  (Good morning!)

"Boker ohr!"  (Loosely translated as "Morning light!"  Quite the nicest exchange I've heard.)

And then the final ha'na'ah of the morning walk:  seeing the brothers on their way to morning prayers.






Thank you, Hashem.  Around all of my doubts and questions -- most of them about myself -- life is good.



!ברוך שם כבוד מלכותו לעולם ועד
 Blessed be the name of His glorious kingdom for ever and ever!


Glossary:
Minhag:  custom
Mitzvot:  commandments
Davened:  prayed
Beit Knesset:  synagogue
Makolet:  "corner grocery"
Starving Hordes:  your brothers, Sam
Shachrit:  morning prayers
Ha'na'ah:  pleasure

Sunday, September 27, 2009

Age-Perspectives on the Mitzvot

Yom rishon, 9 Tishrei 5770, Erev Yom Kippur.

Remember that it's a mitzvah to eat the day before Yom Kippur.




Hand-made by boys.



Ah, to be fifteen and sixteen, when the most glorious of the mitzvot was the feast before the fast!












Later, they'll be consumed by the need to ask mechila (forgiveness) from those they've wronged, focused on reconnecting with Hashem, conscious of the need to make sure that they and their wives and each of their beautiful children experiences the brachot of kaparot.



But right now, they take joy in this most visceral of mitzvot.  It is a teenangel's step toward perfection.  How wise is our Father in Heaven, to make His mitzvot accessible to us throughout our lives!

Hodu Lashem, Ki Tov, Ki L'Olam Chasdo!


On the previous Erev Shabbat, the older boys work in some time for a little shteiging...

...balanced by basketball.


Ripley's Believe It Or Not:  This mitzvah was completed by only two boys, in under an hour.

Glossary:
Mitzvah:  commandment
Brachot:  blessings
Kaparot:  atonements (a ritual removing harsh decrees from oneself and one's children by substituting an object -- many people use chickens, which are then given to the poor; many use money, which is also given to charity)
Hodu Lashem, Ki Tov, Ki L'Olam Chasdo!:  Thanks be to Hashem, because He is Good, forever is His kindness!
Shteiging:  poring over Torah/Talmud texts in deep study and discussion


Haveil Havalim:  Pre-Yom Kippur Edition is up over at Benji's extremely silly and heartwarming place (aka "What War Zone???"), with a warm and fuzzy welcome mat at the front door for new olim.  As someone in my family recently pointed out:  "He's as funny as Brian Regan -- and we don't get embarrassed listening to him with you, Ema, because he's not, you know, like, gross."  Yom huledet sameach, Moshe Shmuel.  Till a hundred and twenty, in good health.

Friday, August 28, 2009

Are we builders or destroyers?

Yom shishi, 8 Elul 5769.
It's Elul.

No big deal, right?  All we have to do is spend the next month cleaning up our act, getting ready for the big show:  Yom Kippur.  We have to forgive every Jew who wronged us, and make ourselves forgivable in the eyes of Hashem.  Oh, yeah -- and let's not forget that noodling in the backs of our minds is that famous Chofetz Chaim rewording of an already troubling famous concept.  Every day that the Temple is not rebuilt, we are tearing it apart with our own hands.

With our own words, actually.  And our petty (but not to us, of course!) little angers at other Jews.

And every day that we are Temple-free is another day we get to fear our enemies, bury our loved ones over stupid violence and disease, suffer small and great torments, physical, mental, emotional...

And all we have to do to end the suffering is to love our fellow Jew.  Not climb Mt. Everest.  Not walk over burning coals in our bare feet.  Not starve ourselves for forty days, nor even take a vow of abstinence.

Just love Jews.  Every Jew, even the least lovable.  Even the Jews that drive us crazy.  Easy, right?

IMPOSSIBLE.

Given our natures, given our weaknesses and easy rationalizations over our hurtful responses to our dented fragile egos, acid-soaked coals would be a cakewalk, compared to loving that %#@&* who did X to me five years ago...

Impossible.  Totally insurmountable.

Fortunately, as Rebbetzin Tzipporah Harris points out, its not our job.  It's Hashem's.  All we have to do is ask Him to solve the impossible.  But we have to ask sincerely.

Rebbetzin Harris listened to the words of great rabbis who are telling this generation that without Ahavat Yisrael -- love of the Jewish people -- Ahmadinawhackjob will get the bomb, and he will be empowered to wreak more destruction against the Jewish people than in the darkest days of World War II.  She listened, and she decided to do something to help.

Rebbetzin Harris started Ahavat Yisrael Chaburim, small groups of women who take upon themselves to eradicate senseless hatred from among their membership.  The hope -- the prayer -- is that all of these small groups (and today there are more than 80 of them around the world) will create ripple effects that will cause the entire Jewish world to "get over it."

She addressed "impossible" with a story, that goes something like this:

A family was notified by the hospital that their elderly mother had died.  They were, of course, distraught; but they followed Jewish ritual, and had her body picked up by the Chevra Kadisha, which as always prepared her lovingly for burial.  After the shiva period, the family got a phone call:  "Why haven't you been to visit me?" asked the old woman.  They were too shocked to respond; and they received a second call:  "Is everything all right?  Why hasn't anyone come to visit this week?"

They rushed to the hospital to make the astonishing discovery that their old mother and grandmother was still alive!

The hospital staff quickly discovered their embarrassing error:  they had confused the woman with her roommate.  The family had buried and sat shiva for a complete stranger!

The family was dumbfounded, but completely overjoyed to have more time with their dear relative.  But now the hospital staff had a terrible problem.  They had to call the other woman's family, and tell them that not only had their mother died a week ago -- but someone else had buried her!

When the young doctor in charge of the staff made the call, he introduced himself to the woman's son.  The man barely let him finish before he started to speak harshly:  "If this is about my mother, you can tell her the answer is still NO!  All day long, she sits with that prayerbook of hers, asking God to give her a 'kosher Jewish burial.' That's all she does, all day long -- and we're not going to do it.  You can just tell her to forget it!"  And he slammed down the receiver.

Even the impossible is not hard for Hashem.  We only have to ask Him for it, with all our hearts.

Join a group like Rebbetzin Harris' chabura.  Gain strength from other Jews who have the same holy goals.

Make that phone call.  Send the email that you know you need to send.  It starts something like this:  "Dear [Ploni], I love you, and I want to have a relationship with you."   Say you are sorry for your part in the difficulty between the two of you -- without dredging up the stupid fight that got you to the place of so much hatred.  (Contrary to certain schools of psychology, airing the problem rarely solves it.)  And then just focus on the things you like and admire about him...

Get over it.  Our lives depend on it.

Friday, October 10, 2008

Happy Anniversary to ME!

Yom shi'shi, 11 Tishrei 5769.

Today is our One Year Anniversary in Israel.  It is also the day after Yom Kippur.

What do I miss from the Old Country?


I miss my rabbi's voice during the services.  I miss his special niggunim.

I miss my friends.  How can you not miss people you have grown to love over sixteen years?

I miss knowing that someone would go in to The Dearly Beloved during Yizkor and touch him on the shoulder, bringing him back gently from the dark abyss of missing people he loved.

                                               

 I miss the ease of communicating deep thoughts in English, something I'll be working at for a long time in Hebrew.                                                                                              
Baruch Hashem, I don't miss "stuff," or places.  Only people, and easy communication with them.

What do I love about my Ancient/New Homeland?

I love that the beit knesset is full of teenagers.  Most of them stay for most of the davening.  I don't know why.  But I am glad.  Even my teenagers stay.                           


I love the new niggunim (which include a potpourri of Ashkenazic, Sephardic, and Chassidic melodies), and that most of the kehilla sings.  There is a lot of singing.  I love that I can sort out the words of the liturgy, because it is in modern Hebrew pronunciation, which I have always deciphered more clearly than Ashkenazic.

I like this new rabbi.  He can't replace our rav in Baltimore.  You can't replace people.  But he will be great at being our Israel rav.

I love the smiles and greetings from new friends.  They are genuinely happy that we are here.  Not just us -- they are very happy to have olim make the effort to come.  They are very supportive.


I love the touch of gratitude from a new friend, whose shoulder I touched during Yizkor, when it was clear that she was having a hard time digging out of the abyss of missing people she had loved.

The long and the short of it is that change is hard.  And change is good.  As hard as it is to be ahead of the Baltimore friends (-- and I truly believe we are only ahead of them in making aliyah --), I am so grateful to be a tiny part of repopulating our precious Land, perhaps moments before the Geula.  Ezra and Nechemia, I am very sorry we didn't listen to you when you first invited us.  But we are here now.  And our first year has been wonderful!

Thank You, Borei Olam, for letting mere us be part of Your Great Adventure!  Please bring our siblings Home soon.

Wednesday, October 8, 2008

I'm sorry.

Yom revi'i, 9 Tishrei 5769, Erev Yom Kippur.

I saw one of those human interest stories on Jerusalem Online the other day. Sort of a random "man in the street" interview about Yom Kippur. People were asked what bad things had been done to them in the past year. There were various responses, from the general to the specific. A few people expressed such happiness with their lives that they could think of no one who had wronged them.

Then the interviewer apparently asked the same people what they had done wrong in the past year. The responses were interestingly patterned, and in some cases, disturbing.

Those who had felt that the world had not wronged them were consistently able to name some thing that they had done wrong. "Maybe a little lashon hara, which I try not to do," said one jovial woman, looking embarrassed. "I'll try to get better about it." Thus expressing the three-part Jewish formula for teshuva, repentance: owning the mistake; expressing regret; and sincerely stating the plan to improve the behavior.

Others mentioned -- on camera, and with no apparent remorse -- such "little naughties" as getting drunk (this from a twelve-year-old), and from a middle-aged man, having a relationship with someone who is married. I felt very sad for them, and for their families and friends who might have seen the interview.

But the most troubling of all were those who felt they had been wronged, but who themselves didn't wrong anyone else. "I don't do bad things," was said by two of these interviewees.

@*@*@*@*@*@*@*@*@*@*@*@*@*@*@*@*@*@*@*@*

To those whom I have wronged through a careless or flippant word: I'm sorry.

To those whom I have wronged through neglect: I'm sorry.

To those whom I have wronged by being less than honest in any dealings: I'm sorry.

To those whom I have failed to give the benefit of the doubt: I'm sorry.

And to those whom I have hurt without my knowledge: I'm sorry.

(There's a lot more to type... but we all have things to do before sunset... Please feel free to let me know of any specifics.)

I really will try to improve my behavior. And if you think you did something wrong to me, you should know that I forgive you. May we all be sealed in the Book of Life. I so want to be there to see the Geula, hand in hand with you. May it be very soon!