Diary of a Traveler

You hear wailing echoes in the night and tolling bells in the background. Forces clamor for attention. And where is the Jewish sound? Is it in the bustling streets and the incessant bullhorns of Geulah and Meah Shearim protesting one thing or another? Is it in the boisterous arguments of taxi drivers and plain everyone about matters that don’t matter that much?

Welcome to Jerusalem 2009.

The Pope’s in town. Whoopee! And the traffic jams are worse than ever. People continue to do what people do, and Messiah has not yet arrived here, in case you were wondering.

My father’s soul has just finished the fourth leg of its journey beyond our material plane, which makes me think about our journey down here on this plane.

I look for some relief from existential pain. And realize: Either we soothe ourselves through distraction or numbness.

How many of our dreams and visions will be fulfilled in this lifetime? And does anybody really care – except our petty egos and fragile beings? Can we release our wild souls and not get hurt or hurt others in the process? And does it make any real difference – except for the moments and the people it affects?

And then I remember that there is a third path: Not distraction or self-medication, but taking on the dissonance and challenging its dominance in our lives.

Philosophical thoughts about the sadness of existence may make us feel wise and insightful. But they don’t accomplish much – anything for that matter – unless they motivate us to do something about it.

Dissonance – and its much less benign offspring – is all around us. Inconsistencies, deception, outright greed and corruption, surround our lives. But do they govern our lives? They surely have the power to overshadow every aspect of our experience, dictating terms of compromise and resignation as we succumb to its tentacles. But we have the ability to withstand, and more importantly, to reverse the negative effects of dissonance.

Take the “scoundrel” by its throat and strangle it. Not with your hands or with violence, but with light. Strangle darkness with light. Asphyxiate pain with joy. Choke off the toxic oxygen of the negative by breathing healthy air. For every despondent moment create two moments of joy. For every resigned thought, generate two of hope. For every broken heart repair two.

And here in Jerusalem, where every experience is amplified and pronounced, the forces are in full battle gear. Voices insist on being heard. Perhaps the less secure they are, the more attention they demand.

And then there is the voice of silence – more powerful than them all – which can hardly be discerned, but its truth resonates with confidence. It is the wise voice of the silent orphan who has grown through his suffering and is stronger because of – not despite – his pain. It is the voice of the old Jew that trudges every dawn to the broken Wall to file his daily protest.

Where does all this leave us? It leaves us challenged in a complicated world. It leaves us with a choice – will we be carried with the tides or will we create them?

Yes, you can say it comes down to pride: Who will win this battle? Will we just lie down and die because life can often be unbearable? Or will we rise to the occasion and do the single most difficult thing: To go against the grain and fight the temptation to become indifferent and cynical. To show that even when dealing with one person amongst billions, a fleeting moment amidst trillions, in one small corner of a vast universe – you transform this brief encounter into eternity.

Some thoughts emanating from Jerusalem this bright morning.

When you find yourself in these types of funky spaces all kinds of memories crop up inside of your brain. Sometimes they are significant memories and sometimes just plain quirky ones that have no meaning to anyone but you.

Two such whimsical moments emerged in my mind this morning – I am clueless as to why – and they both have one thing in common: In both incidents I was scolded with the charming salutation “shame on you.”

The first happened several years ago. I spent a weekend Shabbat in the Upper East Side of Manhattan for a speaking engagement. After the morning prayers, I was walking back to my sister’s home draped in my Tallit prayer shawl. As we were crossing the street a well-dressed woman, carrying two shopping bags – I would say, she was in her sixties –hissed at me: “Shame on you…”

The person accompanying me was about to blurt something out to her before I grasped his arm and stopped him. “What were going to say to her?” I asked my friend. He was going to tell her “you have some nerve! You should be ashamed of yourself shopping on Shabbat instead of going to services.” He assumed that the woman was Jewish; who else would be bothered by a man in a prayer shawl? Anyway, nothing actually was said to the woman and we just walked on. Over the years the episode became a wistful, but distant, memory.

The second time was a few weeks ago. Not to miss out on the new social networking revolution – or to be more precise: to utilize this medium to maximize our work of reaching people with spiritually relevant messages – we recently joined Facebook, and invited some friends to join as well utilizing Facebook’s offer and tools to do so. One bright morning my office forwards me an e-mail from one anonymous reader: “Shemen zolstu zich…” Shame on you (in Yiddish).

Déjà vu.

This “shame on you” is coming from the other extreme: Someone who feels that Facebook, and inviting friends to Facebook, is sacrilegious.

Now, I am not in the custom of replying to anonymous notes for the simple reason that if someone wants to criticize let him show his face and stand behind his words, instead of hiding behind a “safe” mask with nothing to lose. The only reason I am mentioning this is because it reminded of the first “shame on you” hurled at me.

Frankly, I was not in the least bothered or insulted by both these episodes. On the contrary: As a speaker I have learned to embrace “hecklers,” for the opportunity that they provide to demonstrate both the right for everyone to voice their opinion, even if its contrary to your own, as well as the ability to address confrontation and provocation, which often evokes deeper insights, not to mention drama. We cannot deny the “entertainment” factor that “challenges” bring into play.

Now that I think about it, both “shameful” experiences had one powerful thing in common: Both find it difficult to bridge faith and modernity. The former is ashamed of someone who wears his faith in public; and the latter is disturbed by the use of technology in spreading Torah.

I’m sure that I don’t have to point out the irony that the fellow with the Facebook problem is communicating his issues via e-mail being transmitted on the Internet. Why, may I ask, are e-mail and the Internet holier than Facebook?

In fact, many people feel threatened by e-mail and other new technologies. The historical reality is that all new technology is always looked at suspiciously by some, until it becomes mainstream. Technology is, as they say, anything invented after you were born. The printing press, books and many tools we now take for granted, were once the products of a new technology. Never deceive yourself into thinking that the instruments you have embraced and are accustomed to are less technological than the new emerging ones.

Just that we are absolutely clear: I am in no way endorsing Facebook or for that matter any other application or tool. On the other hand, technology does not need my or anyone’s endorsement. It is part of the awesome power and energy infused into existence by the Divine, with the purpose of tapping and using these forces to transform the material universe into a spiritual environment.

This is the mission of all our lives, each fulfilling it with our own unique skills. Our challenge – and choice – is to use technology and all the gifts we were blessed with not merely for personal gain and self-interest, or for entertainment and killing time, but for bettering the world in which we live.

The MLC, including myself, has been blessed with the opportunity to reach many people from all walks of life, and share together the warmth of spirituality and discover together the higher meaning of our lives. As such, we attempt to use all available channels to distribute information and inspiration, in ways that will reach people through the mediums they are utilizing. Facebook is one of the places where many people congregate. We obviously don’t impose on anyone which medium they want to use, and respect each individual’s preferences.

And so, a morning-after-Passover daydream about “shame on you” has, with this pen, turned into a post-Passover meditation about the integration of our modern world with the underpinnings of spirituality. Can we join the two? Many are afraid of faith and the passions it releases. They can’t be blamed: We have, after all, seen the extreme abuses of religion, the killings, destruction and persecution wreaked in the name of faith, both over the millennia, and now originating in the Middle East. Many other are afraid of the excesses of materialism and the indulgences unleashed by technologies. They too cannot be blamed: We have witnessed far too many times how prosperity and technology spoils people, spawns greed, overwhelms the spirit.

Today’s economic troubles only testify to the consequences of unaccountable prosperity, real or delusional, to the power of greed and to the corruption let loose when success is undisciplined and gets out of control.

In our fast-paced society, with ever-accelerating gadgets whizzing all around us, we often crave some quietude, some simplicity, a bit of peace.

Passover teaches us the third path. The path of balance. Eight days of sublimating the ego (symbolized by inflated bread) and embracing humility (symbolized by the bare-bones matzah), eight days of passionately accessing transcendence and freedom, empowers us with the ability to integrate the two worlds: Spirit and matter, faith and modernity.

Only when armed with a humble sense of mission and a determined drive of urgency, can our higher beliefs stand proud in public. Only then can we harness the tools of technology and use them for their true end: to sublimate our world. Only then can we master technology instead of it mastering us.

Maybe this humility and persistence allowed us to get through 3321 difficult years…

Now, when we live in free and prosperous times, the Passover message is as clear as ever: We do not have to fear bridging our most sublime ideals with our mundane investments.

We have our calling – and we have our work cut out for us. One we can embrace not with shame, but with… profound pride.

Tomorrow is an historical day. We ought to stop all that we are doing and just give thanks for the merit of participating in a once-in-a-28-year experience: The suns return to its original configuration.

Much has been written about this year’s celebration of the 28-year sun cycle. This infrequent event is even rarer when it falls out, as it does this year, on Erev Pesach, the day before Passover.

Is there a connection between the two? One could argue that Passover is specifically related to the moon, not the sun. When G-d first informed Moses that the Jewish people, after their long 210-year exile, will leave Egypt, He did so with the sign of the new moon: “This month shall be to you the head of the months; it shall be the first month of the year.” For the Jewish Exodus took place on the full moon of this month, the fifteenth day of the month of redemption. In fact, the entire Hebrew calendar and all the Jewish holidays are regulated by the lunar cycle.

Yet, all moonlight is dependent on the sun. Were there no sun, the moon would be a dark body without any light to reflect to earth. Indeed, just as the moon depends on the sun for its light, the redemption from Egypt (connected to the moon) was led by Moses, who is compared to the sun (“the face of Moses is like the face of the sun”).

Why then did G-d show Moses the new moon and not the sun? And why do we reenact that demonstration by blessing the new moon each month, and the sun only once in 28 years?

The answer provides us with an invaluable lesson in life – and captures the essence of Passover: Reflective light (moon) is more powerful than emanating light (sun). The receiver is greater than the giver; the act of receiving more powerful than the act of giving. Though moonlight is nothing more than a reflection of the sun, its ability to receive, absorb, retain and reflect the sun’s light to earth adds a completely new dimension – qualitatively superior – to sunlight itself!

How is that possible? you may wonder. How can the cause be weaker than its effect; the source lesser than its beneficiary? Yet, we see it all around us. What is more powerful: Sound or silence? Aggression or subtlety? Speaking or listening? Transmitting or receiving? Extracting or emerging? Imposition or resonance? The sizzle or the steak? The visible or the invisible?

Intimacy is always about letting go. By freeing ourselves of our outer trappings, the juices from within begin to flow. Still waters run deep. The “majesty of the princess is within.”

Which explains why the Talmudic sage attributed his greatest wisdom to his students. “I have learned much from my teachers; even more from my friends; but above all, from my students.” The depth of wisdom that reflects back from students (the moon) is far more profound than the wisdom emanating from teachers (the sun).

The sun’s light is far more brilliant than the moons will ever be. But it is only as powerful as the sun itself can be. The moon, despite its lack of independent light, or rather, precisely because of it, accesses a deeper, more intimate place, which can only be reached when one’s identity is suspended.

The moon therefore emanates with its own unique haunting aura. That silver-white, enigmatic glow which evokes in us mystery and intrigue. Have you ever seen people in love staring at the sun (even with shades)? We do see them staring at the moon…

Moonlight is the secret of bittul; the ability to suspend your own space and allow room for a presence beyond and greater than yourself. Through utter dedication to a cause greater than yourself, and allowing that presence to channel through you, you become an extension of that greatness; you become greater than yourself.

A child once asked his pregnant mother: How do you have room inside of you for another life? Men barely have room for someone outside of themselves. Let alone inside. The feminine malchut (the moon) is “empty” of its own ego and personality, and thus allows in another. The Kotzker Rebbe as a child was once asked “Where is G-d?” To which he replied: “Where ever you let Him in.”

Our calendar is thus regulated by the lunar cycles. We count by and are compared to the humble moon. But once every 28 years we are reminded to recognize the source from whence the moon receives its light. Ultimately, our objective is, in the words of the mystics, the intimate union between sun and moon (yichud shimsha v’sihara).

We need to know that Moses the sun leads us out of all constraints (mitzrayim), but to access this power requires us to be humble like the moon.

You can say that Passover is the marriage between sun and moon, the solar voice speaking to us through the lunar module: The all-powerful, giver of light, communicating through a humble interface, the reflective, absorbing moon.

As we rise to this historical day and bless the sun, and then enter Passover to the full moon, let us ponder on these two heavenly luminaries. They stand witness to our long history – both in joy and in pain. These same two celestial bodies looked down on all that transpired over the millennia. These same two balls in the sky were looked up at by our parents, grandparents and ancestors all the way to the beginning time. How much anger and hope did the sun and moon evoke in people’s hearts?

And now, we look up at them through our myopic eyes. Can we see their message? Can we align ourselves to their original coordinates?

And above all: Can we learn from them the balance of give and take, transmission and reception, fusing the solar and the lunar in one glorious union, knowing always that the power to reflect is greater than the power to emanate.

With all our powerful tools and resources – formidable minds, aggressive conquests, innovative technologies and complex structures – Passover is a time to access our most powerful resource of all: Our ability to step back and soak in forces beyond our own. A time to quietly take in new realities and greater possibilities.

Disparity Revisited

This coming Wednesday morning – as they have done every 28 years – Jews world over will be gathering outdoors to glance at the sun and declare: “Blessed is He who reenacts the works of Creation.”

Last week’s column, Restoring the Balance, discussed the cosmic significance of this historical and rare convergence, when the sun returns to the exact time and space of its conception. This event allows us to restore the balanced configuration of our lives, realigning it with the harmony of the cosmos.

But upon further review, a very fundamental question arises concerning the entire basis of the 28-year cycle. The solar year is 365.25 (or to be more exact: 365.24219) days. If the cycle were a perfect 365 days, the sun would return to the same exact spot at the same exact time each year. Due to the .25-day addition, it takes 28 years for the sun to return to its original location at the same day and hour.

Which begs the question: In a world of unparalleled eloquent symmetry why did the Divine plan not include a balanced solar cycle – a perfect 365 days, which would have made life a lot simpler?

The answer lies in the verse in Genesis that first describes the sun’s creation and purpose: “Let there be luminaries in the heavens to distinguish between day and night; and they shall be for signs, and for seasons, and for days, and for years. And they shall be for luminaries in the heavens to illuminate the earth” (Genesis 1:14-15).

The sun’s raison d’être is to “illuminate the world” (repeated twice in these verses). The actual original Hebrew expression is “le’ha’ir al ha’artez.” “Le’ha’ir” – from the word “ohr” – actually means much more than light. “Ohr” is energy, which encompasses many things: light, illumination, warmth, radioactive waves, and all the other multitude of effects that the suns rays (visible or not) have on Earth. A more accurate translation of the verse may be: To energize the Earth.

In other words, the sun and the moon are not two self-contained luminaries, divorced from earthly affairs. They are both an integral, intertwined part of the human condition. Indeed, their entire being is to serve Earth. They affect us and we affect them.

Thus, the sun and moon – just as we earthlings – do not have perfect cycles. Their movements reflect the disparity of our lives – all our inconsistencies and imperfections, cracks and divides. Our split between spirit and matter is mirrored in the sun’s uneven cycle, as well as the moon’s.

What is the root of this disparity? Explain the mystics that unity is the core essence of all existence. But in order for our lives to have meaning, indeed, in order for our independent existence to even emerge from its essential state of unity, a grand tzimtzum – a colossal withdrawal – took place, which concealed the unifying Divine light that “filled” and permeated all of existence. Once the conscious light was “withdrawn” (i.e. concealed), our independent consciousness was able to surface, allowing for existence as we know it.

This tzimtzum is the root of existential dissonance – and all forms of disparity. It allowed for the birth of two states of being, two, as it were, realities, with a split dividing two perceptions: One, the true perception from above, that sees everything as one integral field of energy. Two, our pluralistic perception from below that makes us feel that we exist apart of everything else.

All forms of duality that we experience – from the esoteric split between spirit and matter, form and function, body and soul, to the tangible conflicts that plague our psyches and lives, the battles between our mind and heart, the domestic conflicts between spouses, friends, different opinions and nations – are all a result of the cosmic tzimtzum’s “black hole” concealing the harmony within all.

Diversity per se is a blessing; a necessity to discover beauty in the manifold colors and shades of our common tapestry. And indeed, that is the objective of the tzimtzum in the first place: Not to conceal, but to reveal. Not to divide, but to unite. To allow us the power and choice to see beneath the veil and reconnect the seemingly fragmented parts.

But diversity left unchecked creates divisiveness. When the purpose of our differences is misunderstood, with an added dimension of insecurity and fear thrown in, discord is born. Divisiveness and discord are but one step away from hostility, prejudice, war and finally mutual destruction.

Our great masters, mystics and teachers always emphasized that the single most important thing we must never forget is that: We are all parts of one whole. We need each other, and we complement each other. If one component is hurting, we all hurt. Hashem Echod – the ultimate declaration of unity in the most famous liturgy of them all (the Shema) – is not just a statement about monotheism. It means not only that there is one G-d and not many gods; it’s ultimate meaning is there is one reality and not two or many realities. When you are fiercely negotiating a business deal on a mundane Wednesday you are connected with the same Divine unity as when you are fervently praying in a Synagogue on Yom Kippur. When this unity is concealed every form of disparity and inconsistency arises.

Since dissonance lies at the heart of our existence (with the objective of integration), the sun and moon, created to “energize Earth,” being part of our destiny, must reflect our disparity in their own imperfect cycles.

In a cryptic episode the Talmud (Chulin 60b) relates the following drama:

Initially the sun and the moon were equal in greatness and luminance. But then, the moon said to G-d: “Master of the Universe! Can two kings wear the same crown?” Said G-d to her, “Go diminish yourself.” Said she to Him, “Master of the Universe! Because I have said a proper thing, I must diminish myself?” G-d then proceeded to console the moon with her various benefits. Seeing that the moon was not appeased, G-d finally said: “Offer an atonement for My sake, for having diminished the moon.”

Amongst all the statements of our sages, this one remains one of the most mysterious. And indeed, it is the focus of entire volumes of commentaries and especially Kabbalistic interpretations (see G-d on the Moon). Here is not the place to go into these elaborations, but suffice it to say, that the moon’s “dialogue” with G-d reflects the existential loneliness and dissonance that we all experience in our search for self awareness and purpose. The resulting questions – the ego trying to assert itself in face of sensing a higher awareness; the clashes it will face as it battles between self-interest and the good of others; the journey to understand our identity and purpose in life, our “identity crisis;” the ordeals and diminishing that we undergo in our aspirations; the suffering and losses we will endure; and finally the Divine plan behind the story, including G-d’s “trepidation” for having caused so much pain – is all part of the moon’s cosmic trauma.

The sun and the moon are two forces in our lives, and the very fact that the moon was troubled how it would co-exist with the sun (can two kings wear the same crown?), reflects the duality that we all experience. As does the resulting diminishing of the moon: Are we givers (like the sun) or receivers (like the moon)? Are we dependent (like the moon reflecting the sunlight of others), or independent, emanating our own unique light?

In an elaborate and even eloquent fashion the Kabbalists explain the evolutionary process, how the dissonant environment created by the tzimtzum led to the “shattering of the containers” (in the chaotic world of tohu), which in turn produced the “complaint” and the “diminishing” of the moon, and finally how that led to Adam and Eve’s loss of innocence, when they were thrust into a world of duality from their initial state of seamlessness. Defying G-d and eating from the Tree of Knowledge of Good and Evil, resulted in the fissure of the human psyche; it gave birth to self-consciousness, and the split which plagues mankind to this day, between our own sense of consciousness and personal needs and a sense of higher consciousness and greater calling (see The Origin of Consciousness).

But this is not just a story of lunar dissonance. It’s twin luminary, the sun too, is affected by the misalignment between spirit and matter caused by the tzimtzum. The sun’s cycle is therefore not a perfect 365 days, and also awaits our efforts to realign the imbalance every 28 years.

With this in mind, we can begin to appreciate the powerful significance of the sun blessing next Wednesday morning.

Think of it: We humans have the power to relieve the solar trauma – and the tensions caused by all life’s imbalances – by simply gathering together, uniting and recognizing the sun’s original alignment, blessing this event and drawing down its harmony into our lives.

The sun affects us in a myriad of ways. We are alive because of sunlight. We have tanned in the sun (and even been burned), basked in its warmth, tapped a bit of its energy, watched its’ majestic rise and set. The 28-year solar cycle, which we now celebrate, tells us that there is more. Much more.

We have the ability to restore the balance so desperately needed in our personal and collective lives.

If you asked me, sounds like a pretty good reason to get up early coming Wednesday morning and greet the sun in the firmament.

A Rare Convergence

As our economy spirals out of control, with everyone shooting in the dark groping for solutions, a very remarkable contrast is emerging: While our systems and institutions have destabilized; and our trust, our lives and our economy have lost their balance, the Jewish calendar is entering an extremely rare phase of perfect balance.

Our calendar is general is a fascinating study in balance. It honors both the lunar cycle, which designates the Hebrew months and holidays, as well as the solar cycle, which defines the seven days of the week and the annual seasons. It insists on reconciling both cycles with a special leap month added every two-three years (seven times in nineteen years), to compensate for the 11.5-day discrepancy between the lunar year (354 days) and the solar year (365 days), ensuring that holidays will always fall in their appropriate seasons. This is in stark contrast to, say, the Gregorian calendar, which follows the solar cycle, and the Muslim calendar, which is exclusively driven by the lunar cycle.

The calendar itself reflects the vicissitudes of life’s ebb and flow: The diametric opposite months of Adar and Av, parallel, respectively, the joy and pain of our lives. Each of the other months manifests another vital dimension of life, from love to redemption, light to healing, all together mirroring the entire spectrum of life experiences.

Shabbat, concluding the seven-day weekly cycle, is perhaps the ultimate testimony to creating balance in our lives: The human body, like any hard-working machine, needs time off to rejuvenate itself. To maintain healthy balance between body and soul both need to be nurtured. When one is nourished more than the other, the disparity will compromise our mental, emotional and even physical well-being. The Jewish calendar insists that we maintain a well oiled-machine: After six days of the body’s immersion in material life, comes the seventh “day of rest,” which focuses on feeding the soul.

Time’s structure is comprised of many levels. The Sabbatical year, the leap year, the differences between a “complete” year, a “full” year and a “simple” year; the complex astronomical calculations around sunrises, sunsets, dawns and dusks, lunar cycles and planetary movements; solar and lunar eclipses;  – and hundreds of other nuances that make up the Jewish way of counting and measuring time – are all meant to balance the multitude forces driving our lives.

In short, our Torah-based calendar is much more than a calendar; it is a balancing compass, a map and living guide that helps us navigate and align our lives with the cycles of time and space which we occupy and travel through. Sanctifying time – the essence of the Shabbat and holidays – is the perfect coordination, achieving total balance, between our lives and the dynamics of our universe. Imagine yourself on a speeding train, being thrown from side to side, unable to maintain steady balance. The flow and movement of time and space can also upset our equilibriums. The calendar directs us to configure our bearings and synchronize them with the coordinates of the universe in which we live.

The interplay of space, time and spirit (olam, shonoh, nefesh) defines all of existence. And the Jewish calendar fuses them into one harmonic unit.

Of all times in history, we now stand at a rare juncture when a series of balancing forces converge, in all three dimensions: space, time and life (spirit).

Today is the new month of Nissan in the Hebrew year 5769. On this day, 3321 years ago, in the dark streets of Egypt, G-d showed Moses the new moon and instructed him to from then on establish the calendar that would guide their lives. “This month shall be to you the head of the months; to you it shall be the first of the months of the year.” In two weeks, G-d told Moses, you will lead the Jewish people out of Egypt. And from here on you will always be a free, transcendent nation.

And thus, every year on this day we celebrate the new moon and the new month – the month of Redemption – and we align ourselves to the lunar cycle of renewal.

Passover, too, is about balance – between our bodies and souls, between humility and freedom, between celebrating individuality and our union. Passover, the Festival of Redemption, teaches us how to redeem ourselves from our confusing, distorted surroundings, to free ourselves of the inhibitions and fears (the constraints of mitzrayim) imposed upon us by an oppressive material life, and realign ourselves to the configuration of our uninhibited and unfettered souls.

But of all Nissan’s this year is unique: In two weeks (April 8), on the day before Passover, we will also make a blessing on the sun – a once in-a-28-year event – which aligns us with the sun’s cycle at its point of conception.

What does this mean? The Talmud states: “One who sees the Sun at its turning point…should say, ‘Blessed is He who reenacts the works of Creation.’ And when is this? Abaye said: every 28th year” (Tractate Berachot 59b). Every 28 years the sun returns to the same position, at the same time of the week and same time of day that it occupied at the time of its creation – Wednesday morning, at the beginning of the fourth day of creation. (For a detailed breakdown of the calculations involved please go here).

Why is this confluence of events so significant? Why should we care about the sun’s position at the time of creation? Think of it as if you were going back to the moment of your birth – when everything in your life was perfectly aligned, before you lots your innocence and your psyche tarnished by life’s trials and tribulations.

That is what makes this year – a once-in-a-28-year phenomenon – so unique: Every 28 years, the powerful sun, which gives life to our planet and affects so much of our existence, returns to its quintessential place and position – when it was shining on a clean and healthy Earth, before all the tragedies that have befallen the human race. {28, intrestingly, is also the gematria of koach – energy}. This cosmic convergence, a restaging of the heavens as they were at the beginning of time, calls for a celebration: We honor it by reenacting this moment every 28 years, at the spring equinox, as we will do this coming April 8^th in the morning. And we do so by gathering together and declaring “Blessed is He who reenacts the works of Creation” – thus connecting to the perfect alignment of existence, and drawing down (blessing, brocho, means to draw down) this balance into our daily lives today.

Even more rare is the fact that this year’s sun blessing occurs on Nissan 14, the day before Passover: This will be only the eleventh time in history, among the 206 sun cycles since the traditional time of creation, that the sun blessing is happening on Erev Pesach,* preparing the way and leading us right into the Holiday of Redemption. And this is the last time that this convergence will occur during our present six-millennia cycle.

Just as we are achieving balance in time and space, this year also marks the ultimate balance of life/spirit (human beings): Our current year is a Hakhel year – a year of gathering. At the end of every seven-year cycle, following the Sabbatical year (Shemitah), the Torah instructs: Assemble the people: the men, the women, the children… and read before them the Torah, in order that they hear, and in order that they learn and stand in awe before G‑d, and they will observe all the words of this Torah…all the days that you live… (Deuteronomy 31:10).

Gathering, uniting and synchronizing souls – men, women and children – of all backgrounds creates the ultimate balance between the diverse segments of our population. Indeed, no two people are alike. No two people’s “faces are alike,” no people’s “minds are alike.” Yet, despite our differences, we are all one integral unit. This year – the hakhel year – beckons us to actualize our commonality. Gather together a wide variety of people toward one spiritual focus. By doing so we discover the harmony within diversity, appreciating the essential contribution of each individual. We recognize how each of us, without exception, is like a unique and indispensable musical note in a grand cosmic composition, each absolutely necessary, each in need of and complementing the other, all uniting in one exquisite harmony.

As we are surrounded by this unique convergence of balance in time, space and spirit, our unstable economy jumps out at us with a glaring inconsistency, like a jagged iceberg jutting out of a silent sea.

The good news is that nature always gravitates toward balance. We cannot deny the dazzling effect of nature’s natural balance. Time, space and spirit all tick with an inherent synchronicity.

The challenging news is that when these three rendezvous, when the human being meets his time/space destiny, mans’ free will is not revoked; we always are allowed the power to choose: To determine whether we will take control over the winds of change and balance our lives, or we will allow the material forces blowing every which way carry us away in their uncertainty? Will your soul – and its inner compass – drive your body, or will your body – and its volatile needs – drive your soul?

How then do we restore the balance when so much seems unstable? We turn back to the beginning of it all – when things were in perfect balance.

And to effectively do so – and this is the second piece of good news – we have a navigator, a calendar, that guides us in rebalancing our lives. Follow its coordinates and you will discover an underlying pattern of order, which can help us steer our ships even amidst the crashing waves in the stormy seas around us.

This period in time, and particularly these days of the year, offers us, if we only bother to pay attention, an unprecedented opportunity to regain, reclaim our balance: All we need to do is to return to the source. The source of time, the source of space, the source of life. We revisit the birth of our sun – the source of our light and warmth – as the sun stood when it was first planted into the heavens. We reconnect to the original state of affairs of our universe and of our lives – our conception and our birth – when things were seamless and complete, before duplicity set in.

But it’s not just the sun. The moon too, the redemptive month of Nissan, the holiday of Passover itself, all happening in the unifying hakhel year, energizes us to reconnect to the source that integrates, rather than fragments, all the pieces of our lives, restoring its original balance.

When we are able to revisit our birthing, prior to the scars we gathered through life, we achieve two things: We see how things ought to be, and we are empowered to realign who we have become today with who we truly are.

And above all, we return to the source of all sources: Blessed is He who reenacts the works of Creation. Instead of investing our hope and trust in men and their fickle institutions, we place our trust in the eternal – In God We Trust. Which includes trust in the Divine Image in which we are all created – the quintessential Divine spirit that cannot be felled or wounded by mere mortal systems.

So, just as some are about to give up hope, throwing up their arms in resignation, we enter the new month of Nissan, offering us all its promises and hopes.

Nothing, absolutely nothing, can stop the indomitable spirit of man. We each have the power to emancipate ourselves from our shackles, including the most fearful one of all – the shackles of fear and uncertainty.

But to do so requires strength and courage. And that too is available to us. All we must do is revisit the “turning point” and restore our original configurations – before they wandered off course.

“One who sees the Sun at its turning point…” Would this not include the “sun” in each one of us – the part of ourselves that has the power to warm and illuminate, to nourish and sustain, those around us?

What a gift. What an honor to be able to revisit the birthing. What a blessing to live at this moment in time.

Something to think about as we enter the new month and prepare for April 8^th and Passover.

__________

*) Some have noted the words stated by the Ostrovtzer Rebbe in 1925 (printed in his Meir Enei Chachamim), that the sun blessing on Erev Pesach occurred three times in history. The first before the Jews were redeemed from Egypt, the second the year they were redeemed on Purim, and the third, in preparation to the final imminent redemption. However, there is a controversy around these words, being that since creation the sun blessing has taken place on Erev Pesach 11 times, including the last time in 1925. For more discussion on this go here.

Is there a person on Earth that has never hurt another, intentionally or unintentionally? Is there anyone that has not failed or fallen in some way?

As human beings, we all have our shortcomings and our share of transgressions. Whether we have lapsed and betrayed ourselves, others or G-d (or all the above), whether it may have been “small” white crimes or grave sins, everyone of us knows in his or her heart, when we are honest with ourselves, some of the ugly things we are capable of.

But don’t feel all alone. Ecclesiastics declared long ago “there is no tzaddik on Earth that has done good and not sinned” (7:20). On the other hand, let us not console ourselves with that fact.

This week’s Torah portion deals with many of our human ways of harming each other.

It is always humbling to read the verses of this portion. We often can soar into the sublime, with lofty, spiritual concepts. The power of Torah’s spirituality is that it is not divorced from our earthly realities. We must ground our deepest soulfulness in our day-to-day, profane lives. The challenge is to fuse spirit and matter, to fight the battle and allow our souls to dominate over our selfish, greedy, mindless and reckless temptations.

And thus, following the sublime Sinai experience (in last week’s portion), we are quickly reminded (in this week’s chapter) of our all too human frailties, and what we are capable of left unchecked.

Yet, this portion is not meant to depress us. Quite the contrary. By recognizing our weaknesses and potential failings, by being accountable and assuming responsibility, by rectifying our errors – we actually demonstrate the ultimate human dignity: To repair a broken a world. After all, trust is built not on perfection but on accountability. It is human to err; it is Divine to repair. When we rise to the occasion and correct a crime of the past, we manifest the majestic Divine Image in which were created – the ability to transcend our mortality, go beyond our humanity, our offenses, even beyond our pasts, and come out stronger than before the fall.

It would be wise and healthy for our business and political “leaders,” and for that matter, for every one of us – especially the ones that helped create the current mess – to sit down and quietly read some of these verses, if for no other reason than to realign our sights to what it means to be truly human: The gift, responsibility and obligation to be contrite and accountable, to correct our wrongs and live up to the highest standard of our life’s calling.

But there is something even more. This week’s Torah portion contains a strange passage: In discussing the laws of burglary, the Torah distinguishes between a burglar that comes in hiding, at night, and one who robs in broad daylight. Regarding the latter, the expression used is this: “If the sun shines on him, he has blood,” meaning that if he robs in broad daylight, or it is clear that he has no deadly intent, then if he is killed it is considered murder (“he has blood” which has been wrongly shed).

The verses are coming to teach us the penalties of stealing. Yet, in the name of true virtue and justice, the Torah is also concerned with the welfare of the thief, that though he has committed a crime, one still has to recognize his rights and not wantonly kill him. But why use a misleading positive expression: “If the sun shines on him?!” It would have been much clearer to simply state “if it happens in broad daylight,” or “if his intentions are clear.” The cryptic “if the sun shines on him” suggests that even the thief has at times the virtue that “the sun shines on him.”

They tell the story of a young widow who once came crying to the Baal Shem Tov. “I recently lost my husband. Now my young child, my only child, is lying gravely ill. The doctors have given up hope. Please, Baal Shem Tov, please do something to save my child.”

The Baal Shem Tov, whose heart was always open especially to the needy and oppressed, soothed and reassured her saying that she should go home and her child will be fine. He then proceeded to gather together ten (a minyan) of his holy hidden Tzaddikim, to pray for the child’s welfare and immediate healing.

But to no avail. As much as they tried opening their souls and in turn opening the gates of heaven, they sadly were unsuccessful. The Baal Shem Tov sensed that the decree in heaven was sealed and could not be reversed by the Tzaddikim’s prayers.

The Baal Shem Tov, however, was not one to take no for an answer and give up. He fell upon an idea. He asked his wagon driver to prepare the wagon and the horses. They were going for a trip to the forest. He directed the driver to go to a particular spot, which surprised the driver, being that this was known to a be a dangerous area where thieves lurked, and everyone would avoid.

They arrived at the designated spot. The Baal Shem Tov climbed off the wagon, and within a few moment he was, to the chagrin of the driver, surrounded by several thieves. When the head of the band of thieves saw that it was the Baal Shem Tov, he put down his weapon and with wonder and astonishment asked: “Baal Shem Tov, what are you doing here in the wild?”

The Baal Shem Tov replied: “Listen, I need to speak with you. I need your help.” All of them wondered what possible help could the Baal Shem Tov need from lowly thieves. The Baal Shem Tov continued speaking to the band leader: “I need you to gather ten of your thieves and come with me to pray for a sick child.” The head thief didn’t understand, but since the Baal Shem Tov was requesting he complied. He gathered a minyan of his partners in crime, and they prayed with the Baal Shem Tov.

The child miraculously recovered.

Later, when the Baal Shem Tov was asked by his surprised students, “how were you able to accomplish with ten thieves more than you could have accomplished with ten Tzaddikim?!” the Baal Shem Tov replied: “Simple. I saw that all the gates in heaven were locked. And I needed someone to break in…”

So, even a thief has times when “the sun shines on him” and “he has blood.”

This does not condone theft or any other crime. It teaches us, that once a person has transgressed, he has the power not only to correct his ways, but his very crimes can teach him and all of us new ways to “break in” and reach heights that honest people can never reach.

And this is the ultimate redemption of our past wrongs, and also the ultimate expression of the Divine Image in each human: The power and ability to transform our pasts. To use the newfound knowledge and methods that came from illicit sources to open up unprecedented channels of holiness and sanctity.

Now, let us see if the “leaders” of our time can do the same with our economy. We too have a few thieves today that may learn some of these lessons. But before we hold our breaths, let us each apply this lesson to our own personal lives. Rather than wait for the establishment to create changes, grass roots have the power to create a revolution from below.

Part V

Jeff: Did you research and look into the arguments I presented in our last conversation?

Evelyn: Yes I did. And I even approached a Palestinian friend of mine and presented him all your arguments.

Jeff: And?

Evelyn: And he absolutely rejected them, stating that they were Zionist lies. Jews, he claims, invaded their land and displaced their population.

Jeff: And do you agree with him? I did after all cite facts and quotes that can be corroborated?

Evelyn: No I did not agree with him. Much of what you say I indeed found to be accurate. But, even if he goes too far to one extreme, and even if we were not to call them Palestinians, the fact remains that Arabs have been living in this region for centuries and have now effectively been displaced by millions of Jewish immigrants.

Jeff: Just a minute. You are wrong on both accounts. Arabs have not been living there for centuries. As I discussed earlier, from 1948-1967 Jordan and Egypt each pushed hundreds of thousands of their citizens to move to the West Bank and Gaza, such that by 1967 half of the people of Jordan lived in the West Bank who were not there in 1948.

And Jews have been living there for centuries. So though undoubtedly some Arabs were displaced, it was not by foreigners but by locals. You are making it sound that millions of Arabs lived in present-day Israel, and all the Jews there are immigrants. That’s simply not the case.

Evelyn: Are you saying that only Jews and not Arabs are indigenous to this region?!

Jeff: No, I am sure that some Arabs have ancestors that lived there. But not in the exaggerated populations that they suggest.

Evelyn: How can you say that? From the time of Islam’s birth in the 7^th century the region was ruled by the Arab Caliphate (who conquered it from the Byzantines and ruled through the 11^th century, when it was conquered by the Crusaders), and then, by the Ottoman Empire who controlled it from the 12^th till the 20^th century. During these many centuries the area was under Arab-Muslim rule. Jews lived there as well, but the dominant force was Arab-Muslim.

Jeff: Of course I am aware of that. But why don’t you read these accounts of the region’s desolation from travelers who left records of what they saw there.

“Nothing there (in Jerusalem) to be seen but a little of the old walls which is yet remaining and all the rest is grass, moss and weeds” (English pilgrim in 1590). “The country is in a considerable degree empty of inhabitants and therefore its greatest need is of a body of population” (British consul in 1857).

“There is not a solitary village throughout its whole extent (valley of Jezreel) – not for 30 miles in either direction… One may ride 10 miles hereabouts and not see 10 human beings. For the sort of solitude to make one dreary, come to Galilee… Nazareth is forlorn… Jericho lies a moldering ruin… Bethlehem and Bethany, in their poverty and humiliation… untenanted by any living creature… A desolate country whose soil is rich enough, but is given over wholly to weeds… a silent, mournful expanse… a desolation… We never saw a human being on the whole route… Hardly a tree or shrub anywhere. Even the olive tree and the cactus, those fast friends of a worthless soil, had almost deserted the country… Palestine sits in sackcloth and ashes… desolate and unlovely (Mark Twain, The Innocents Abroad, 1867).

The restoration of the “desolate and unlovely” land began in the latter half of the 19^th century with the first Jewish pioneers. Their labors created newer and better conditions and opportunities, which in turn attracted migrants from many parts of the Middle East, both Arabs and others.

Thus, most of the Arabs today are not indigenous to that region. It was only after the Jews changed deserts and swamps into a productive and thriving land that the Arabs migrated there. Before that time there were only approximately 120,000 Arabs in the entire region, including Jordan.

Evelyn: And Jews – how many Jews were there at the time?

Jeff: The Jewish population, on the other hand, always existed in Israel. Let’s not forget: Israel became a nation in 1312 BCE, two thousand years before the rise of Islam. From Biblical times, spanning back over three millennia, till this day, and even after the Temple was destroyed and the Jews were banished by the Romans in the 1^st century, there always was a continuous Jewish presence in the land, essentially making the Jews indigenous to the region.

Indeed, from the times of Abraham throughout the ages Israel was always the “Promised Land” and remains a central force in Jewish life, with Jerusalem as its capital. Jews are obligated to live in Israel, and have always been emigrating to the land, both in the Middle Ages and later, and also before Islam was born. Jews pray facing East to Israel and Jerusalem; virtually every filled with their aspirations to return home to Israel.

Evelyn: Arabs feel the same. They feel that they too are children of Abraham, and have lived in the region from the beginning of time.

Jeff: But they add one critical caveat: They deny the right of Jews to the land of Israel. And they call for Israel’s destruction. I should add: Muslims pray with their backs toward Jerusalem.

Until after 1967 when they began clamoring for Jerusalem as their capital, Jerusalem has never been the capital of any Arab or Muslim entity.  Even when the Jordanians occupied Jerusalem, they never sought to make it their capital, and Arab leaders did not come to visit. Jerusalem is mentioned over 700 times in the Jewish Holy Scriptures, but not mentioned once in the Koran, and Mohammed never came to Jerusalem.

Jeff: I will tell you what I think is the root of the problem. The Arab/Muslim world does not accept the existence of Israel on religious grounds. Islam faith and theology dictate that the very existence of Israel under Jewish sovereignty is a desecration against G-d. G-d chose the Mohammed and Islam to conquer and transform the world. Mosques were intentionally built on Jewish and Christian holy sites, demonstrating G-d’s choice of Islam as the ultimate religion, after Judaism and Christianity failed. Read a bit of the Muslim theologian Sayyid Qutb on the subject.

If G-d doesn’t want the Jews to control the land, and wants that Muslims to rule, what possibly can you do to change that belief? How can one make peace with that?

Evelyn: You make peace with the moderates who are ready to compromise and recognize Israel, not with the religious extremists.

Jeff: And you know who is a moderate and who is an extremist? What would you say if you discovered that all Arabs/Muslims believe that Israel defiles their faith?

Evelyn: We live in a modern world, which is increasingly turning secular, not being run by religious extremes. And it is only this secular approach which will allow for

Jeff: So now you are dictating what Muslims should or should not believe? Just because you and so many others don’t find religion that important doesn’t mean that the entire Muslim world will embrace your views.

Evelyn: I didn’t say that religion is not important. It simply can’t be the force that dictates politics. We need a separation of church and state for us to co-exist. Freedom of religion, but not one that imposes religious beliefs on us all.

Jeff: And what do you do with the over one and a half billion Muslims who believe otherwise?

Evelyn: You encourage the moderates and not empower the radicals.

Jeff: This condescending attitude is what enrages so many Arabs/Muslims. They are offended by the Western World attempting to dictate its values to them. As if the West has it all figured out. The Muslim world actually sees the West as an equal partner in desecrating G-d’s choice of Islam over Christianity and Judaism. Which is why they always refer to the Crusader/Zionist aggression.

Frankly, I find Hamas more honest than the others in stating their position up front, and not hiding behind diplomatic smokescreens.

Evelyn: So what is your solution to the problem?

Jeff: If anything, one can argue that the Jewish leaders in Israel are to blame for not recognizing the religious issues at hand. Perhaps the Arab world would respect Israel if it showed spiritual leadership and instead of diluting the conflict in a secular context, actually addressed the theological forces at work.

Evelyn: Then we would have a full-blown religious war.

Jeff: No. Then we would have an honest discussion

Evelyn: And your solution?

Jeff: Even if I don’t have one, the facts remain the facts. One thing is definite: To live with myths is surely not the solution. I actually believe that the first step to a solution is a frank acknowledgment of all the issues, including the religious ones, to call a spade a spade and not allow this to become a propaganda battle driven by rhetoric and distortions.

Evelyn: I need to look into this. What you are saying is not consistent with the facts as I know them.

Jeff: Please research it exhaustively. But then get back to me. I would love to hear a refutation of what I am saying. And if you don’t get back to me, I shall assume that you could not contradict my arguments. So then please have the courtesy to at least acknowledge that.

Evelyn: Do I sound intellectually dishonest?

Jeff: No. On the contrary. I very much appreciated our dialogue. But since these issues have been intentionally distorted and misrepresented for so many years, it’s not surprising that so many intellectually honest people have been misled.

Evelyn: Nevertheless, we still need compassion for the Arabs living in the land.

Jeff: Yes we do. But they need to stop declaring war on Israel. Period.

A Miracle in Our Times

February 5, 2009 – Moscow, Russia

Amidst all our current global turmoil, I would like to report to you that I find myself in a city which caused much upheaval in the last century, and despite all odds and predictions is now witness to a living miracle.

I should add that this miracle touches me very personally.

With great anticipation I embarked on my journey to Moscow for this present lecture tour. You see, this city is the birthplace of my father. Indeed, Russia is the country of origin of both my parents, my grandparents and all my immediate ancestors. It is also the birthplace of my mentor, the Rebbe, and all his predecessors. It is the country which gave birth to the Chassidic movement, which has deeply shaped my life with its transformative philosophy and blueprint for contemporary life. The largest segment of American Jews trace their roots to this country. The list is long with both the contributions and calamities of this historic country.

With my entire upbringing shaped by Russian influences, I was quite naturally looking very much forward to finally coming to the country that is so embedded in my genes and in my nurturing.

Right off the plane I felt right at home. All the words of my childhood come pouring out. “Spasiba.” “Das vi danya.” Dobre vetcha.” “Panyimayot.” “Tochne.” “Shto.” “Pazhaleste.” “Maladetz.” Of course, the indispensable “tak.” And some words not for print. Lest you wonder, I feel quite inept with my knowledge of this language. I know just enough to answer “nimnoshka” to the question whether “panyimyot paruski?” and definitely “nyeta gavarit.”

Yes, I feel sense of belonging here. But little did I expect the intensity of my emotional reactions. I am actually now sitting and weeping as I think about the unlikely – unlikely is grossly inadequate; it’s more of a revolutionary – transformation that has taken place within yards from where I presently sit.

For over 70 years, from the time of the Russian Revolution, a war was waged from this city and country against Jewish life. Tragically, the Communists effectively closed down synagogues, schools and all the institutions that allowed Judaism to thrive in this country for centuries. In this city thousands of Jewish Rabbis, leaders, scholars, just fine people, were shot without just cause. It was the city from where Stalin drove terror into the hearts of hundreds of millions and killed tens of millions.

And on a personal note: It was in this city in 1937, in a neighborhood called Malachavkeh, where my grandfather and namesake was arrested by the NKVD, the dreaded Soviet secret police. A few years earlier, in the same city in 1923, my grandfather merited to be one of the ten individuals, who together with the Rebbe Yosef Yitzchak took a vow to the death to do everything in their power to preserve Jewish life in that country. Most of those ten were arrested and shot. My grandfather would end up exiled in Siberia for several years and finally escape the country, physically broken though spiritually stronger (here is a video of my father describing that dark night). Most others were not so fortunate. They were either killed or died from hunger. The remaining Jews were persecuted and not easily allowed to maintain their heritage.

[Moscow was also the city which, in its Russian-style obstinacy, in the shape of bitter cold winter, froze Napoleon and later Hitler in their march forward to conquer this notoriously resilient country].

You would think that after all this there would be no remnant left of Jewish life in Moscow and Russia. Quite the contrary.

Now I sit in Moscow and watch Jews who lived through all that terror – some of them quite elderly, many others are their children and grandchildren – and in one way or another have maintained their Judaism. Many others are reconnecting to their roots. It’s a complicated story; no one even knows how many actual Jews there are in this country. Many, many parents hid their identities from their children to protect them from the discrimination. So many others have intermarried. But one thing is for sure: The place is saturated with Jewish energy. It feels like being in a burned out building but you still can see the simmering embers that have remained burning – barely. But burning they are, and like the nature of a spark, they are flickering and beginning to burst into flames.

There is much work and hard work that still needs to be done, but what is so awesome is that the cinders have remained alive. After all this time and all the attempts to extinguish them, after two World Wars and all the upheavals in the last century, who would have thought?…

And this survival and revival is no an accident. Behind the scenes there were those in this country and outside of it that were risking their lives – with literal mesiras nefesh – to maintain the pilot flame. I will never forget my father’s description of a personal audience he had with the Rebbe, following his 1971 visit to the Soviet Union. My father delivered hundreds of letters written by Russian Jews to the Rebbe, pouring out their souls, asking for blessings and describing their challenges. Not to arouse suspicion, these letters were addressed, “Dear Father,” “Dear Uncle” and the likes. The Rebbe gently took the letters and began reading them. Within a few minutes the Rebbe was crying. My father, feeling uncomfortable remaining in the room with the Rebbe in such an intimate moment, slowly began backing out of the room. The Rebbe motioned that he remain. He stood there crouched in a corner, watching this rare sight of a holy man sobbing uncontrollably over the plight of his people.

These tears were not that rare. Over the years of his leadership, the Rebbe never ceased speaking out – crying out – for the Jews trapped on the “other side of the iron curtain.” I personally witnessed the unyielding and emphatic cries of the Rebbe, always citing the Talmudic declaration that “even an iron curtain cannot separate them from their Father in heaven.” You could see in the Rebbe’s appeals the profound concern and pain that he consistently carried inside for his brethren – who were also his fellow countrymen and women – living, suffering in the Soviet Union.

This concern was not limited to feelings. Not here is the place and the time to go into the Rebbe and the Previous Rebbe’s superhuman, underground efforts to keep the Jewish flame alive through all those hard years, via a secret network of activities that span back to the 1920’s!

That defiant effort alone – to stand up against the might Soviet empire and not accept defeat – should go down in history as one of the most formidable acts of heroism. But the story doesn’t end there. These herculean efforts yielded their fruit: The flame remained burning, while the Soviet empire crumbled. Fulfilling the prescient words of the Rebbe Yosef Yitzchak to one of his Jewish captors (from the notoriously hated “yevsektzia,” the Jewish wing of Communists): When the captor sneered to the Rebbe “Rebbe, mir velen zehn ver vet oisfiren,” we shall see who will prevail, the Rebbe replied: “ye, mir velen zehn,” yes indeed, we shall see…

And now we see…

To see the renaissance of Jewish life in Moscow – after all that transpired – is quite overwhelming…

What relevance does of all of this have to us today?

On the most obvious level: This is a story of hope. Should anyone reading these lines be in despair, feel hopeless or suffering in any form and fashion – I bring you live and warm regards from a city where hope and faith have prevailed over the harshest of adversaries.

As I was speaking the other day to a group of Russian Jews – I spoke in English simultaneously being translated into Russian – I could see the tears in the eyes of several people in the audience when I thanked them for remaining standing through it all. I could see the emotions well when they heard about the Rebbe reading their letters with tears.

After witnessing this all, no one should ever be able to say that there is no hope…

As so many of us are wondering what will come of our current economic woes, of never-ending volatility in the Middle East, of each of our own personal fears and uncertainties — Moscow 2009 is a powerful reminder that we know very little about the mysteries of life cycles. Yesterday, Moscow was destroying lives, today it is building them. Yesterday, Moscow all but annihilated Jewish life and morale. Today Jewish life is thriving here.

In the center of Moscow an impressive seven-story Jewish Community Center is buzzing with activity. From classrooms, synagogues, two kosher restaurants, community rooms, sports activities, dinner halls, ballrooms, and that’s not even half of it. Russian Chief Rabbi Berel Lazar sits unassuming in his office, overseeing KGB headquarters on one end and an empire of Jewish institutions on the other. I am looking into his eyes to see if he senses the great miracle he is part of.

But awesome moments are never recognized as they happen; only in retrospect.

Moscow today is indeed an awesome sight to behold when placed in context of Moscow in 1937.

And its lessons reverberate. With crisis brewing world over, who knows where and when the next Moscow will emerge.