Identifying a single incident – or statement – that, in retrospect, changed the entire course of history, is one of the most exhilarating discoveries.

We have one such verse in this week’s Torah portion:

For I know him, that he will command his children and his household after him, and they will keep G-d’s way, to do righteousness and justice (Genesis 18:19).

Indeed, therein lays the secret of Abraham’s eternal success. As the sequence of the verses suggests: The previous verse states, Abraham is about to become a great and mighty nation, and through him all the nations of the world will be blessed. And the reason is given in the next sentence: For I know him, that… his children and his household will… do righteousness and justice. Abraham and his nation’s greatness and might are a result of their commitment to the just and righteous path.

This may be the first and earliest documented episode of humans adopting the most powerful moral mandate: To do what is right and just.

As benign and correct as this life choice resonates within us, the disturbing fact is that, despite Abraham’s commitment, the path of righteousness and justice would not come natural and easy to the human condition. It would take literally thousands of years for the idea to take hold and become the standard of virtue in the world at large. And even in today’s day and age, as recent events in history have shown us, it is still not a standard upheld in every region.

Up until all the recent upheavals and atrocities, living in our free world it was hard to imagine that institutionalized values of freedom, justices and righteousness were relatively new to our governments and institutions – merely a few centuries old. Before the 18th century nations were ruled by monarchs and despots, some of who may have been benevolent, but most were not and regardless, righteousness and justice was not the Divine right of the masses.

It was the American Revolution that embraced man’s Divine human rights, in its Declaration of Independence: “We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable Rights, that among these are Life, Liberty and the pursuit of Happiness.”

Reading this historical declaration and its appeal for “justice and magnanimity” and despair at those leaders “deaf to the voice of justice” provides us with an accurate depiction of the state of world affairs from the beginning of time. The ruling power was not justice and righteousness, but the people in control. From one end of the globe to the other, individuals ruled, often with tyranny and force, and their citizens were subject to their mercy. There were undoubtedly individuals throughout history that chose a path of peace, kindness and justice. From time to time there sprung up movements and life approaches that followed or were inspired by Abraham’s life, which helped plant the seeds of democracy. But these were exceptions, and they definitely did not create generations or nations that followed their personal philosophies.

So it’s quite remarkable to go back over 3700 years to the time when Abraham made his momentous move, and pioneered the path to keep G-d’s way, to do righteousness and justice.” And this was not merely his personal choice; this became the defining principle that would shape and permeate Abraham’s “children and household,” for generations to come.

It’s quite amazing when you think about it: G-d knew and trusted that.

It’s one thing to make a personal promise. But how many of us can be sure what our children and households would embrace? And not for one generation, but for over 90 generations, till this very day!

Easy it wasn’t. Indeed, this commitment to virtue cost many lives and caused much anguish. For thousands of years empire after empire persecuted those committed to an authority greater than theirs. Righteousness and justice had to be fought for, every step of the way.

Yet, Abraham’s “children and household” held on to the commitment. They maintained it and endured through their Egyptian slavery, through their suffering at the hands of the Babylonians, Greeks, Persians, and Romans. Their dedication to Abraham’s just path continued despite the hellish Crusades and Middle Ages, through the Inquisitions, expulsions and pogroms. Through the horrors of the Holocaust in the 20^th Century. And unfortunately, through the battle with terrorism going on today.

Through all these nightmares of history Abraham’s “children and household” did not just hold up their commitment; they exported it and spread the light unto nations, even to those nations that tormented them.

A nation with such vigilance and fortitude deserves to become a great and mighty nation, and through him all the nations of the world will be blessed.

And indeed, who has prevailed? Not the tyrants, not the killers and persecutors. Not they and not their families have remained. The world has become a more righteous and just place. Many nations today are ruled by laws guaranteeing human rights, with freedoms unheard of just a few hundred years ago. Not every nation. But many. And Abraham’s “children and household” are here to tell the story. And we will continue to tell the story.

Many, many lessons can be gleaned from this ultimate story of history. Above all, it is the story of our own lives, or better yet, our own personal choices.

Today, we are not asked to pioneer a new path of justice and virtue. We stand on the shoulders of Abraham and his children and students. Yet, in our own way we are all faced with moral choices every moment of our lives. Each of us in our heart knows that the battle is not over. Despite our freedoms and all the great advances made over the millennia, we still are faced with our enemies. We are faced with antisemitism and hatred, with darkness and evil.

Abraham’s mandate is as important today as ever. And his persistence teaches us the power of one individual’s choice, how much it can accomplish.

Our turn in history has comes – will we be an Abraham? And how will we educate your “children and household?” Will we stand up for righteousness and justice? Will we lead by example?

Hemshech Tzaddik-Dalet Part IV

Just 8 years into the young 21^st century, we are undergoing our first serious transition, marking the shift from one state to another. From economics to politics, the United States and the world at large are experiencing seismic tremors.

First the economy. Just as it seemed that prosperity would keep accelerating, markets would never stop rising, and technologies were advancing at a breathtaking pace, on the verge of reaching digital utopia, we have all been reminded of age-old human vices and the fragility of our structures.

Now, the US Presidential election. However you understand Mr. Obama’s rise to the most powerful position in the world, it clearly has many historical implications, reflecting new transitions underway.

Where will we be in four years from now? In one year from now? In a month? No one can truly say. There are simply too many unknown variables. And with our shrinking global village interconnected like never before, any one little corner of the world, any single individual, can set in motion a domino effect – viral, in today’s lingo – rippling through societies across the planet.

Sucked into the vortex of the whirlpool it is very difficult to see outside of our own selves. Mired in self-interest and in the challenges of the moment, our vision is heavily clouded. To recognize the forest from the trees requires stepping back, climbing up, and take in the scene from a birds’ eye view. When we are able to transcend immediate circumstances, it becomes quite evident that we are in a period of transition from one age into the next.

Which is why these shifts are so disconcerting and utterly unnerving, even traumatic. Whenever we are shaken from our reverie and torn from our comfort zones, we undoubtedly will feel quite upset and disturbed.

Yet, it is precisely at these points in time – when we blindly turn the corner, leaving the past behind and facing an unknown future – that allow us, if we only let go, to see a bigger picture, and allow it to inform the “smaller picture” of our daily lives.

When you think about it, periods like this are inevitable. Like a healthy immune system, every few years our systems have to go through a reality check and a market correction (no pun intended), to realign us and help achieve balance.

Appropriately, the continuing discussion of the Chassidic series Hemshech Tzaddik-Dalet delivered in 1933 – which this column has been covering, to mark the 75^th anniversary of this profound discourse – helps us relate to this fundamental process, and how it can radically improve the way we see ourselves and live our lives. Indeed, 1933 was in its own way a time of major transition, with the economic Depression and then the advent of World War II, which would turn the world on its head with its devastating consequences. Today, we have been promised, transitions will be peaceful and lead us to a better world.

The story of the discourse till now: All of existence is a process, a transmission consisting of three stages, yesh, ayin, yesh. All matter – the “body” and being of our physical universe (the created yesh) – carries within it energy (ayin), which in turn originates from a source, the “transmitter” (the true yesh).

Growth is about deeper awareness and allowing that awareness to shape your actions. We, humans, begin our lives with focusing on serving our own selfish (yesh) needs. Then we come to recognize the energy within all matter, and begin to learn how to convert matter into energy. And then, in turn, we come to discover the energy source.

This energy divides into two dimensions: The first is the limited energy as it is contained and relates to matter. The second is the energy as it emanates from the Source. From the perspective of the Source, true “matter” – the ultimate reality- is the Source, and existence as we know it has no substance of its own. From our perspective we think we are “it” and we are “where it’s at,” that the tangible universe that we see, hear, taste, touch and smell, is reality, and its life source, the spiritual energy within, is unknown and amorphous.

Now the series continues to explain (in the discourse that was delivered 75 years ago this week) that these two perspectives are not merely the difference between how we see things from the ‘”bottom up” and “outside in” and how the Divine sees them from the “top down” and “inside out,” but these two perspectives are in the energy itself: Not only does the Source “see” and consider the energy as “nothingness,” but the energy itself humbly senses its insignificance being that in the shadow of the Source.

This is the difference between “matter consciousness” and “energy consciousness:” matter is consumed with its own self importance. “I am.” Energy, on the other hand, is inherently selfless, always cognizant that it is simply an extension and reflection of its source.

– Check out brain researcher, Jill Bolte Taylor’s lecture at the TED conference, in which she fascinatingly describes, from her own personal experience having suffered a stroke, the different “personalities” of the brain’s two hemispheres. The right brain sees itself and all of existence as a field of seamless energy. The left brain sees the person as a distinct entity which declares “I am, I am.” –

Every transition in life and in history is meant to help us achieve the ultimate transition – from matter to energy: Initially our attitudes are driven by self-serving “matter consciousness.” But as we mature, and as our material “comfort zones” are shaken, exposing their cracks and brittleness, we have the opportunity to glimpse the energy within and channel it outward.

The Rebbe Rayatz then goes on to define three different dimensions of the selfless “energy consciousness.”

The first is a profound humility: the energy senses its utter insignificance in face of the energy source. An example of this is a student who feels absolutely trivial in the presence of his great teacher, like a candle in the light of the sun, which actually appears dark in comparison to the sun’s brilliant backdrop.

What is so amazing about this form of consciousness is its paradoxical nature: On one hand the energy clearly exists. It is also infinitely distant from its source. Yet, in its defined parameters it is completely aware of its insignificance in the presence of the source.

However, as we shall see, there are yet deeper levels of energy awareness (to be discussed in future columns).

To remain focused and sane in times of transition like this – and surely to stay ahead of the curve – it is crucial that we connect to the reservoirs of our soul and the energy within all of existence, which makes everything tick.

In simple language this means that as winds of change swirl around us, we find grounding in the timeless values and eternal wellsprings of our soul, by dedicating time each day, each week, to study, pray and be charitable. These are the three pillars upon which the world stands – both the large world and our personal world, each person a “universe in microcosm.”

The more everything around us gets embroiled in confusion and chaos, the more vital it is for us not to allow ourselves, as tempting as it may be, to get caught in the vicious cycle of self-consciousness and self-interest. Instead, go inward. Find your soul. Dedicate yourself to a cause greater than your self. Connect to your selfless “energy consciousness” – the awareness that you are a channel for something far greater than yourself. In return this attitude helps melt away fears and provide you with inner peace, materially and spiritually.

Build and reinforce these pillars in your life, and you will find the strength to understand and appreciate the transitions of our budding century.

*  * *

When the Rebbe stopped delivering this discourse due to someone’s complaint that it was too difficult to understand, the Rebbe reportedly said: “M’vil geben perel. Un zei vilen tzukerlech.” We want to offer pearls. And they prefer candies…

Hopefully, we can come to appreciate some of these pearls in our attempt to apply the esoteric concepts in this discourse to our contemporary lives.

A great flood was about to arrive on Earth. Noah is told by G-d: “Build yourself an ark… come into the ark together with your family,” and this ark will protect you from the flood.

“Teivah” is the Hebrew word used in the Torah for ark. “Teivah” also means “word.” Says the Baal Shem Tov: “Build yourself an ark” – enter into protective words of Torah and prayer – which protect you from the raging floodwaters of financial anxieties that each of us have.

This advice may seem counterintuitive. When you are suffering financially it sounds more practical to intensify your efforts to find supplemental income: A new job, new types of investments. When money is lost it seems that the most logical thing to do is to become more aggressive in your pursuit of money, not to escape behind spiritual walls.

But think again. From where do we derive ultimate security? Can a structure rest comfortably on a shifting foundation? Would you feel safe being embraced by transient love? Can a child build confidence with absentee parents? Can we be secure with something that is fundamentally insecure?

True security can only come from something that is not temporary; safety and trust is built on that which is solid and permanent.

Everything in this material universe is intrinsically impermanent. We are mortals living in an ever-changing and ever-aging world. Everything physical erodes, ages and dies. Everything that has a beginning has an end. Our looks, our youth, our food, our belongings, and yes – our money – all get depleted.

I always found it ironic to call those financial vehicles – which are inherently temporal and fraught with risk (as every prospectus legally reminds us) – with the name… “securities.”

With everything material, including money, being so transitory, how can we expect to find security there? Yet we return there again and again. Is it because we have become addicted, or because we don’t know of any other alternatives?

The mere fact that in times of financial anxiety most of us would gravitate back to more aggressive money pursuits is the clearest demonstration how addicted we have become to money, and how we feel that it is the only panacea to relieve our anxiety. However, the rule is that anything that brings you anxiety can never relieve your anxiety. But this is a rule of logic, not of emotions. As much as it may make sense that a “drug” will not solve your problems, the addict returns to the drug again and again. Because life is not about sense; most of our decisions are emotional ones in the first place.

As one shtetl drunk once said: You drink to drown your tzoros (problems). Then you find out that tzoros float…

And thus comes the brilliant but simple advice of this week’s Torah portion: “Build yourself an ark… come into the ark together with your family.”

When the floodwaters of financial pressures and anxieties are raging and threaten to drown you, build a protective “ark” and enter into it with your family. Surround yourself with sacred words, insulate yourself with spiritual values and ideas.

Take time each day, each week, on weekends – designate any time that works – gather your family together and study some Torah, read a spiritual thought together, pray together.

This is not escapism. This is being pragmatic, and empowering. It is acknowledging that when the unpredictable floods are going wild, you have the power to create an oasis – a protective womb – that lifts you and your loved ones to an eternal place, which shelters you from the storm.

Not just shelter that avoids danger, but a space that brings permanent comfort being that it connects you to the immortal – the holy words that surround your life. So that even when you “leave the ark” and return to the material world you have become somewhat immunized, no longer so vulnerable to the inherent insecurities of everything corporeal.

Build yourself an ark. Enter into it. Feel nurtured.

A simple piece of advice. But one that can change your life forever.

Hemshech Tzaddik-Dalet Part III

What would you do to get a glimpse, just a glimpse, of a reality that is beyond the one you usually perceive?

As we are about to celebrate the unfettered dance of Simchat Torah, the Chassidic series Tzaddik – Dalet – which has been the focus of this column in the past few weeks marking the 75th anniversary of this discourse’s delivery – helps us enter a new zone, which can lift us above the trappings of our daily routines and the din of our demoralizing anxieties.

The story until here: All of existence is a process, a transmission consisting of three stages, yesh, ayin, yesh. All matter – the “body” and being of our physical universe (the created yesh) – carries within it energy (ayin), which in turn originates from a source, the “transmitter” (the true yesh).

As we travel deeper into the worm-hole that connects our perceived reality and the deeper reality within – concealed by layers upon layers of thick curtains – we discover that in the in-between ayin state there are actually many levels and dimensions.

In the continuing process of deconstructing existence – which this classic discourse does so methodically – the Rebbe Rayatz further dissects the transitionary ayin into two: Ayin of the Yesh Ha’Amiti and the ayin of the yesh ha’nivra. Since the transmission is not of the Essence itself, but of a reflection, it goes through gradations as it moves down the pipeline. First comes a state that carries the transmission, removed from the essence while reflecting it. Then this state metamorphasizes into another, lower form of ayin, which is more customized to the final recipient, yet still beyond it.

The first ayin is called “non-existent” or “nothingness” simply because of its actual insignificance, completely paling in comparison to its source. The second ayin is so called not because of its insignificance; it actually carries much significance, indeed, it is the source of the recipient’s existence. It is called ayin because from the perspective of the recipient 1) it remains unknowable and mysterious; 2) its existence is of a different “personality,” one that our existence cannot relate to and sees as “non-existent”.

In other words, every state of being, which inherently originates from a higher state of being – i.e. every transmission from one state to another – consists of four levels: The source (Yesh Ha’Amiti), the way the source manifests and is reflected as it begins to transmit and evolve (ayin ha’amiti), the transmission getting closer to the recipient (ayin of the yesh ha’nivra), and the recipient (yesh).

To make this a bit more palatable, take the example of a teacher and student: As the teacher (the first yesh) transmits an entirely new idea, he first must gather his thoughts and condense the idea in his own mind (the first ayin). Then he must find words and examples that the student can relate to (the second ayin), which will carry and plant the idea into the student’s mind (the final yesh). This is true for every form of transmission and process.

And these four levels in a sense repeat themselves again and again as we move through the cosmic order. Each “section” of the process consisting of a state that evolves into a lower state, with two levels of “ayin” in-between connecting them.

[The following two paragraphs can be skipped if you find them too esoteric:

There are actually three different ways to explain the meaning the two levels of ayin. 1) The infinite light (sovev) divides into two dimensions: the essence of the light and its extension. 2) The infinite light (prior to the tzimtzum) is the first level of ayin and the finite light (after the tzimtzum) is the second level. 3) The finite light itself (memaleh) divides into two.

It seems obvious, though the Rebbe Rayatz does not state it specifically, that every stage of existence, from the highest to the lowest, has two stages in the in-between process that connects every two states of reality. Relative to your existing state, the level above you is a lower form of ayin, and the level above that is a higher form of ayin, which follows the yesh above it].

What this all means in practical terms:

Understanding the dynamics of existence and how our reality came to be is not just an academic exercise which satisfies our natural curiosity to know “how things work” (the proverbial clock, which we take apart to see what makes it tick), but something far more profound and consequential. The inner workings of reality teach us how to retrace the steps and reconnect to our core source, how to integrate our surface level existence with the inner forces that shape and define our very being.

All of life is a journey. Not just a journey on earth, but one that carries us from one state of being to a higher state of being, from one state of consciousness to a higher state of consciousness, like climbing a mountain, the mountain of perception, where each leg upward allows you to see and experience new horizons. When humans say that they like to improve and perfect their lives what does that mean? Is perfection physical – instead of one million, two million dollars? Instead of one car two, instead of one home two homes, and so on? True perfection and self-actualization is when we release all our potential, when we reach higher states of awareness. It is about spiritual perfection – not being trapped by our own limited perspectives and possibilities, and reaching for heights (hitherto) unimaginable. It is the story of the finite yearning for the infinite.

How high and what exactly constitutes these heights is subject to various opinions. Hemshech Tzaddik-Dalet tells us that no limits exist in how high we can reach – but only if you are ready to “pay the price.” There is no way to get beyond mediocrity and experience transcendence if we ourselves and our mindsets remain mediocre. Climbing upward requires the readiness to suspend pre-conceived notions and experiences, to set aside self-interest and other ego-driven pursuits, and allow yourself to be carried to a broader place.

To climb the mountain and elevate our lives from one state to a higher state we need to experience two states of bittul. The first realization is that our existence is very limited and that there is a far greater force, unknown to us, that energizes our very beings. Once you assimilate this new perception (which is no small feat and takes much work), you can begin to climb to the next level and realize that not only is our existence inferior to its source, but that there is a level where there is only light and energy, reflecting a higher reality, and all of existence is completely engulfed, and has no identity of its own, in that light. Not only that something greater than us exists; not only that’s is not all about you, but that that you compared to it are nothing at all.

Once you come to that profound awareness, then you can integrate your being with that higher state, and then something dramatic happens: You become absolutely significant – not because you think you are somebody, but because the essence makes you somebody.

To understand this we need to further analyze the meaning of light and bittul. This we will leave for the future columns of this ongoing series. Let us for now return to Simchat Torah, which immediately follows the festival of Sukkot.

One of the personal lessons of spending an entire week in a Sukkah instead of in our comfortable homes is to remind us of the temporal nature of existence. The material world is not our home. We must never succumb to the illusion that our man-made structures and mortal edifices are our natural environments. Corporeal life is a means, a road that leads us to a deeper, higher reality. The transitory Sukkah reminds us that we are just travelers in this impermanent material world; we are spiritual beings on a material journey, not material beings on a spiritual journey.

The vulnerable Sukkah has many layers, but as we travel inward each layer makes us stronger – and wiser, realizing new states of transcendence and joy.

Seven days in a Sukkah prepare us to enter yet another dimension of reality, called Shemini Atzeret and Simchat Torah, when we dance the seven circles (hakofot). Each circle sucks us further into its vortex, helping us melt away the fears of our limited perspectives in a narrow universe.

To enter a higher reality we have a narrow passage called “ayin.” To enter this passage you must first shed layers of ego and self-interest, recognizing that there is a reality that precedes you and is concealed from view; a reality beyond your grasp and of another dimension. Once you travel up this state of selfless ayin, it will lead you to yet another passage. There you need to shed not just any shred of self, but you need to know that compared to the Higher Reality your reality has no significance at all.

And then…. And only then a new passageway opens up for you – wider than anything you have ever seen, transforming you into a new being, a new reality.

Yes my friends, the secret to immortality is to disappear. Disappearance can never disappear, the invisible cannot be obliterated, selflessness cannot be annihilated.

Want to catch a glimpse of another reality?

Dance on Simchat Torah. Don’t just dance. DANCE.

Ahh, to dance and dance into oblivion. An oblivion that carries us into the ayin, and then into another and yet another – as we deconstruct existence and catch a glimpse of a something beyond…

Hemshech Tzadek-Dalet Part II

With the financial markets shaking so many people to the core, the holiday of Sukkot comes as a powerful reminder about the mercurial nature of our securities. It teaches us the critical need to diversify our portfolios so that they include a dimension sadly often forgotten: Our families, loves and sublime experiences – the spiritual reality that is the only solid, unwavering bedrock foundation we can always depend upon.

But how do we free ourselves from our deeply entrenched perspectives? How do we break our addiction to the markets and perceived dependence on money, and allow another reality to enter our lives?

A powerful Chassidic discourse can help unshackle us. To honor the 75^th anniversary of the classic Chassidic series “Hemshech Tzaddik-dalet,” delivered by the Rebbe Yosef Yitzchak on Rosh Hashana 1933, last column began a summary and review of the major themes of this profound dissertation, which deconstructs existence to its core.

This (unfinished) series consists of nine discourses and thirty-three chapters: The first five delivered on Rosh Hashana, Shabbos Shuva, Yom Kippur night, Sukkot and Shemini Atzeret respectively. The final four delivered on Shabbos Parshat Noach, Lech Lecho, Chayei Sarah and Toldot.

Accordingly, this week’s entry will address the themes of the first three discourses. And their connection to the holiday season, as we are about to enter the festival of Sukkot.

* * *

The poetry of the High Holidays is quite exquisite. Beneath its technical surface an unmistakable melodic arrangement defines the underlying structure of the holiday-filled month of Tishrei.

The first half of the month begins with days of awe: Rosh Hashana and Yom Kippur. Followed by the Sukkot days of joy in the second half of the month, when the moon grows full.

Awe and joy are two vital ingredients in every healthy experience; two necessary components in every successful relationship.

Awe – a combination of reverence, wonder and modesty – respects the mystique of life. But awe alone keeps us at a distance from the experience. Joy brings the experience close and makes it intimate as we celebrate our relationship.

Both our relationship with the Divine and our personal relationships (which is meant to reflect our bond with the Divine) require a balance between awe and joy: We must always feel a profound respect for the other, lest we become arrogant and controlling. Yet, love also means that you feel close and connected with your beloved.

For love and intimacy to be complete it needs the same interplay between warmth and reserve, closeness and space, familiarity and mystery.

Thus, the parameters of the holiday season, which is all about building relationships between us and G-d and between each other, begin with the days of awe (Rosh Hashana and Yom Kippur) and conclude with days of joy (Sukkot).

Awe is transcendence. Through awe of a reality beyond our limited selves we are able to reach to a place beyond our own mortal boundaries. Think of an awesome sight that gave you a glimpse to a picture far greater than one you could ever have imagined. As a teenager, I, for example, remember spending a number of summer nights observing the relentless waves crashing against the shore. All night long I would stand and watch with amazement the unfathomable power of the sea, as wave after wave after wave, would come in, never sleeping, unstoppable. It taught me about power that is beyond us all. It gave me a taste of the infinite.

Joy is integration, allowing us to assimilate powerful experiences. After standing in awe before the Divine on Rosh Hashana a Yom Kippur, we then dance and sing for seven, eight, nine days of Sukkot through Shemini Atzeret and Simchat Torah.

These two elements are also featured in the mitzvah of Sukkot, when we dwell in makeshift huts with a vulnerable flora roof, in which we are eat all our meals and conduct all the activities of the day which we regularly would do at home.

One of the personal lessons of spending an entire week in a Sukkah instead of in our comfortable homes is to remind us of the temporal nature of existence. The material world is not our home. We must never succumb to the illusion that our man-made structures and mortal edifices are our natural environments. Corporeal life is a means, a road that leads us to a deeper, higher reality. The transitory Sukkah reminds us that we are just travelers in this impermanent material world; we are spiritual beings on a material journey, not material beings on a spiritual journey.

Yet, while the Sukkah lifts us to a higher awareness, we also sit within it, allowing its four walls to embrace us with its surrounding presence. BaSukkot Taishvu, we settle in and internalize the Sukkah experience. Awe and joy fused as one.

* * *

As discussed in the previous column, Hemshech Tzaddik-Dalet dissects the very nature of existence, indeed, the very nature of reality itself. In a meticulous fashion, in a style unique to Chassidic discourses, the Rebbe RaYatz (an acronym for Rabbi Yosef Yitzchak) deconstructs all of reality into three stages, which he calls Yesh, Ayin, Yesh, literally: being, non-being, being, or itness, nothingness, itness.

These three Hebrew words can be translated many ways, with various interpretations, as shall be discussed later in this series, but overall they reflect three stages of every process: The beginning point, the middle, in between step, and the end point, the destination.

In effect, every process is a state of transmission. This is true for the entire cosmic order – a metamorphosis from one state of being to another. Every transmission begins with a transmitter. On the other end of the spectrum is the receiver. And in between is an intermediate state that connects the two. As it with every transmission, the entire essence of the transmitter cannot be carried over to the recipient. Only a small amount is passed on. Take a teacher and a student as an example. Only a reflection of the teacher’s mind can be transmitted to the student. This “reflection” – the channel that connects teacher to student – is therefore called “ayin,” a state of “non-being,” like a void or a vacuum, where the metamorphosis takes place transforming one state of begin into another.

All processes consist of these three states. A seed must decompose in the ground before it sprouts. An idea must go through a state of confusion before it develops into a full-blown theory. Creativity is a child of frustration: The greater the creation the more frustration that precedes it. A piece of gold must be melted in order to shape it into a beautiful ornament. To grow a new layer of skin the previous one needs to be shed. A structure is razed before another can replace it. We must lose ourselves before we find ourselves. Another way of defining these three stages is: consciousness, non-consciousness and a new consciousness. As long as the initial state remains intact, another one cannot be born. Thus the need for the “ayin” in between.

The ultimate root of these three stages is in the Divine process of creation:

The first yesh is the Yesh Ha’Amiti. The first and only true state of being is the Divine Essence, which exists because it must exist. Reality is real because it is real; its’ reality generates from within: it exists because it exists. All existence as we know it, both material and even spiritual, has no true validity of its own. Nothing dictates that matter or spirit must exist. And even when they do exist, their entire being has no self-contained power; it is driven entirely by Divine energy. The only true Reality is the Divine Essence of all. In the words of the Tanya (Iggeret HaKodesh ch. 20): Everything has a cause. But G-d has no cause other than Himself; nothing preceded Him; His being derives from His own self. G-d’s existence must exist, for it is true reality. Since all existence as we understand the term has a “cause” and is not self-contained, the “existence” of the Essence of Reality is an existence that is unlike any existence, “a non-existential existence.”

On the other end of the spectrum is the yesh ha’nivra, existence as we know it. And in between these two states of being and reality (the first yesh and the last yesh) comes an Ayin, an intermediary stage of light/ energy that connects and carries a reflection of the Divine reality into our perceived reality.

The plot thickens. In truth, the created yesh is rooted in the Divine yesh, as explained in Tanya: Only a Reality that has no source can create a reality, our self-contained existence, which does not feel that it has a source. But in our closed “bubble” we only perceive our own beings (yesh), with no clue to the forces that shape us.

All that we know about existence and reality is limited to our myopic vision and subjective perspective. For us humans to being getting a glimpse of a higher reality we need to retrace the steps and enter the state of ayin – a state of bittul, modesty, humility and suspension of self, which allows us to transcend ourselves and our self-contained perceptions, only exacerbated by our self-interest. Through the ayin we reach beyond ourselves and bridge our reality with the Ultimate Divine Reality, to the point that our yesh can fuse with the Yesh Ha’Amiti.

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As we begin a new year and are moving from the awe of Rosh Hashana and Yom Kippur to the loving embrace of Sukkot, it’s a good time to reassess our perspective on reality.

As long as you are trapped by your own “box” and “structure” – your past experiences and baggage – it will be extremely difficult, if not impossible, to move forward and expect new experiences. Even if they were to be showered with all the blessings there would be no place for them to manifest in a crowded box that is your life.

Thus the meditations ofTzaddik-Dalet are a powerful way to step back, rise above and look down with a birds’ eye view on life, on our expectations and on future possibilities.

To sum it up in one line: Through bittul we connect with the ultimate reality, never to return the same.

75 years ago, 1933, was a momentous time; major transitions – mostly tragic but some positive – were underway, and mankind would never ever be the same.

Meanwhile, in Warsaw, Poland – the city that would several years later be destroyed by the Nazis – a great Rebbe began delivering a series of profound Chassidic discourses, which would become known as “Hemshech Tzaddik-Dalet,” literally “the series of 94,” referring to the series of discourses delivered by the Rebbe, Rabbi Yoseph Yitzchak Schneerson, in the Hebrew year 5694, September-November 1933.

These discourses were so dense and complex that the Rebbe abruptly discontinued their delivery right in middle of the series, after one of the listeners complained to him, to the chagrin of us all, that they were too deep for the audience… What a fool: if you can’t follow along, go home. Why spoil it for the rest of us?

As a result, we are now left with an unfinished symphony. The good news, however, is that this discourse was based on an earlier one delivered by this Rebbe’s father, the Rebbe Sholom Dovber, 18 years earlier, in 1915 (5676), and there we can study the general thread and continuing flow of these discourses to their conclusion, albeit without the elaboration and explanations that the Rebbe Yosef Yitzchak would surely have added.

The series, as it is, consists of nine discourses, the first one delivered on Rosh Hashana 1933, and concluding – aborted, as it were – with the last discourse delivered on Shabbos Parshat Toldot. These discourses, delivered by the Rebbe both orally and in writing, were subsequently published.

To honor the 75^th anniversary of this significant series, this column will offer a summary and analysis of the core ideas discussed in these discourses (in the same spirit that was done for Hemshech Samach-Vav several years ago).

Hemshech Tzaddik-Dalet dissects the very nature of existence, indeed, the very nature of reality itself. It’s central and most remarkable theme is that existence as we see and experience it is not real at all.

What is real? is the big question posed in this series. Is something real because you can touch and see it? Or is that simply a circumstantial reality, which has no validity outside of the world of our senses. If something were to be truly real, wouldn’t that dictate that it be real even if and when we don’t see or touch it? In other words its reality is based on it being fundamentally and essentially necessary, not because it just happens to exist.

Think of it this way: What is reality – the sub-atomic forces that energize and define all of matter, or the matter itself; the DNA that shapes your entire being, or your being; the electricity that runs through our appliances, or the appliances.

What is more real: The cause or the effect? The peel or the fruit? Your body or your soul?

Is existence energy or matter? And if you were to find out that matter was just a form of energy, and should that energy cease to flow all of matter would simply vanish – how real is that matter even while it looks so formidable?

Is power defined by its immediate or by its enduring strength? How much credence do we give to something that is powerful today but will disappear tomorrow?

How would you look at yourself and your vanities if you were to know that it is all based on a state of blindness: Our inability to see behind the curtain? What would feel like if you were to discover that the things we worship and control our lives are nothing more than a shell concealing a fruit within?

Hemshech Tzaddik-Dalet explains that material existence and even – which is more astonishing – spiritual existence has no true validity of its own. Nothing dictates that matter or spirit must exist. And even when they do exist, their entire being has no self-contained power; it is driven entirely by Divine energy. The only true Reality is the Divine Essence of all, which exists because it must exist. In the words of the Tanya: Everything has a cause. But G-d has no cause other than Himself; nothing preceded Him; His being derives from His own self. G-d’s existence must exist, for it is true reality. G-d is an existence that is unlike any existence, “a non-existential existence.” It is real because it is real; a reality that exists because it exists.

This all may sound too esoteric to some of us. In truth, however, by understanding and appreciating the emptiness and hollowness of material existence, we begin to loosen its seductive stranglehold on us. As long as we give credence to the superficial realities around us we remain part of the problem instead of the solution.

By recognizing what is truly real, we stop feeding the illusion that people and materialism have power over us, allowing us to access the true power of the Essence, which in turn allows us to begin healing this ailing world. – A vital lesson today as many face the challenge of our collapsed financial markets.

Perhaps, as the universe was being annihilated in 1933 and no person would be spared from the devastation, the Rebbe felt the need to dissect and revisit the “engineering room” that wires all of existence. When the world around you is being destroyed, a certain measure of solace can be attained by transcending its mechanics and traveling into its core. But perhaps even more importantly, by recognizing the folly of all existence and, in effect, invoking the source of all of existence, we have the power to renew our contract with the Cosmic Architect and “rewire” the dynamics of existence.

Over the past seven weeks I have been writing about the exact opposite extreme end of the spectrum – child abuse – the lowest end of human degradation, which can’t get much farther from the nature of Divine reality.

Yet, in an interesting way, by lifting ourselves to the highest places we can both escape and ultimately redeem our most demeaning of experiences. When you are mired and covered in manure, sometimes the only way to go is high up above the clouds.

We thus are comforted by this week’s Haftorah – the final one of the seven weeks of comfort:

I will greatly rejoice in G-d, my soul will exult in my G-d; for He has clothed me with the garments of salvation; He has covered me with the robe of righteousness, as a bridegroom puts on a priestly garland, and a bride adorns herself with her jewels. For as the earth brings forth her growth, and as the garden causes its seeds to grow; so G-d will cause righteousness and glory to spring forth before all the nations.

For Zion’s sake I will not keep silent; and for Jerusalem’s sake I will not be still, until her righteousness shines forth like radiance, and her salvation like a burning torch. The nations will see your righteousness, and all the kings your glory; you will be called by a new name, which G-d’s mouth will give. You will also be a crown of beauty in G-d’s hand, and a royal diadem in your G-d’s palm. You will no longer be termed Forsaken, and your land will no longer be termed Desolate. But you will be called, ‘My delight is in her,’ and your land, ‘Espoused’; for G-d delights in you…

Go through, go through the gates, clear the way of the people; build up, build up the highway, clear the stones; lift up a standard over the peoples. Behold, G-d has proclaimed to the end of the earth: Say to the daughter of Zion: Behold, your salvation come.

And when a universe – or a child – is violated, we read on:

Who is this who comes from Edom, with crimsoned garments from Basra? Why is Your apparel red, and Your clothing like one who treads the winepress? I trod them in My anger, and trampled them in My fury. Their blood is sprinkled on My clothing, and I have stained all My raiments. For the day of vengeance was in My heart, and My year of redemption has come. I looked, but there was no one to help; I gazed in astonishment, that there was no one to uphold… So He became their deliverer. In all their affliction He was afflicted…

In His love and compassion He redeemed them; He lifted them up and carried them all through the years (Isaiah 61:10 – 63:9)

As the curtain of this year 5768 comes down, may we raise ourselves to the highest of heights, bringing down all forms of abuse and hurt, incapacitating the oppressive forces that feed off of our giving them authority and power over us.

As the universe retreats to its source and its batteries prepare to be recharged, we have the ability to rise up to the very essence of reality, from whence we derive new hope and new possibilities.

May this new year draw from the Essence and bring you revealed blessings of life, health, livelihood, children and all that you need, materially and spiritually.

Sing Barren One

Sing, barren one, you who have not given birth. Break into a song, and cry aloud, you who have never been in labor; for the children of the abandoned are more numerous than the children of the married wife, says G-d.

Do not fear, for you will not be ashamed. Do not be confounded, for you will not be put to shame; you will forget the shame of your youth, and the reproach of your widowhood you will remember no more.

For G-d called you as a wife abandoned and grieved in spirit. Can a wife of youth be rejected? says your G-d.

For a brief moment I forsook you, but I will gather you with great compassion. In an outburst of wrath, for a moment I hid My face from you; but with everlasting kindness I will have compassion on you, says G-d, your Redeemer.

This is like the waters of Noah to me: I swore that the waters of Noah would never again submerge the earth; similarly, I swore that I would not be angry with you and would not rebuke you. For the mountains may depart, and the hills may be removed; but My kindness will not depart from you, nor will My covenant of peace be withdrawn, says G-d, who has compassion on you.

Isaiah 54-1-10 – 5^th Haftorah of the 7 weeks of comfort

My heart is hurting. My soul is singing.

Life is so strange. And paradoxical.

It’s now five weeks since I have been writing about one of the most painful of life’s tragedies – innocent children hurt by adults. I never intended to continue writing about child abuse. But I could not ignore the overwhelming emotional response evoked by my first article (The Destruction and Restoration of Dignity) about my wounded childhood friend Michael.

All my years of teaching and writing – communicating with people about personal and emotional issues – have taught me that we must listen, and listen closely to the anguished voices and the deep outcries of people in pain. We must always listen to the “kol yeled boche” – the cry of the child.

Of all man-made human atrocities, perhaps the most devastating and demoralizing is silence. Silence in face of abuse is not neutral; it is complicity.

So when I began reading the anguished e-mails elicited by my article describing the perpetual wounds of childhood trauma – one e-mail more heart wrenching than the other – there was no way that I was going to ignore these crying voices. I realized and continue to realize the deep grief of so many tormented souls; children whose lives were forever altered because of a self-indulgent, sick adult.

And then, once I applied myself to the issue, which is so “comfortable” to ignore, I could not stop writing. As much as can be said about this unspeakable topic seems never enough. Initially, I thought that it was hard to find a place where child abuse is discussed in the Torah; now, after studying these seven weeks of comforting Haftorahs, I came to realize that once you pay attention it’s hard to find a place where this issue is not mentioned: Virtually every Haftorah speaks about the wounded children, the abandoned sons and daughters.

This week we read: Sing, barren one, you who have not given birth. Break into a song, and cry aloud, you who have never been in labor; for the children of the abandoned are more numerous than the children of the married wife, says G-d.

Let us ponder this verse for a moment. Are we actually being told that the “barren one” has reason to sing more than the fertile one? And that the “the children of the abandoned” have an advantage over healthy children?

How sad: Abandoned children outnumber their healthy counterparts. Abuse is rampant, and yet we are told that this is reason for us to sing!

But that is exactly what the verse is telling us. Whether we understand it or (most likely) not, some mysterious metamorphosis occurs to the barren one and the children of the abandoned. And when we see it through, we celebrate.

Yet we cry and sing all at once. We cry for the loss. But we sing for the growth, and we sing for the fact that we ultimately are not abandoned; our abandonment is only for a brief moment, because the everlasting Divine kindness and compassion always remains with us.

Indeed, the barren and abandoned state revealed a deeper love and greater strengths. The fact that we remain standing after all that we have been through testifies to our invincibility.

It is an absolute miracle that a child is able to survive extreme abuse at the hands of people who were supposed to protect the child. And yet the child survives, and with work becomes someone far greater, far more refined than he or she may have been otherwise. Not that this is a consolation, but the harshest challenges in life bring out the deepest resources, ones we could never imagined to have existed. And yet… we cry; we cry for all the countless hours of loneliness and anguish. We cry for the sheer pain, regardless of the ultimate benefits. But as we cry, we also sing…

So, sing, barren one, you who have not given birth. Break into a song, and cry aloud.

Do not fear, for you will not be ashamed. Do not be confounded, for you will not be put to shame; you will forget the shame of your youth, and the reproach of your widowhood you will remember no more.

Shame. Ahh the shame resulting from abuse. The shame that demoralizes and poisons our every move; the shame that breaks our spirit, as we lose our inner dignity and sense of self-worth.

Yet, even if we were shamed, you will forget the shame of your youth, as you discover that you have not been rejected.

For a brief moment I forsook you, but I will gather you with great compassion. In an outburst of wrath, for a moment I hid My face from you; but with everlasting kindness I will have compassion on you.

While reading and writing about this healing process, let us not forget that we are in the month of Elul: A month of love an compassion, when we have the power to rebuild after loss, as we learn from Moses who spent these days of Elul on Sinai beseeching G-d for resolution.

And yet, the sadness strikes me again. Here we are preparing for the High Holidays – awesome days that have the power to change our lives forever. Yet, how many people are aware of this fact? How many are looking forward to Rosh Hashana and Yom Kippur as indispensable days, offering us the ability to realize our deepest aspirations and dreams?

Many today are disenchanted from the monotony of conventional Holiday services. Affiliated and traditional Jews often suffer from a mechanical, lip service, experience. Nevertheless, the paradox continues: Men and women regardless of background hunger for a meaningful High Holiday experience.

Much to cry about. But also much to sing about.

But then we read on and conclude this week’s reading:

For the mountains may depart, and the hills may be removed; but My kindness will not depart from you, nor will My covenant of peace be withdrawn, says G-d, who has compassion on you.

Despite the winds of assimilation and the forces of apathy, notwithstanding the spiritual quandaries and the decline of traditional commitment – the mountains may depart, and the hills may be removed – but My kindness will not depart from you, and this kindness and compassion will reach the depths of our souls and awaken us.

Thus, even our spiritual frustration and our skeptical attitude is essentially the voice of our souls searching – desperately yearning for something better. What greater tribute to human dignity?

Dear Rabbi,

As chief-editor of a news website I commend you for courageously addressing one of the worst curses plaguing our community: child abuse.

I receive many submissions exposing child molesters and various forms of abuse in our communities. I would like you to discuss the issue of publicizing this information. On one hand, many argue that we are prohibited from “loshon hora,” speaking ill of others, even if it may be true. On the other hand how can any responsible person ignore the issue that has such devastating effects and just “push it under the rug”?

Please reply. Your response will not only be appreciated, but will guide us in setting policy what to post and what not to post on our public site.

I believe that you have the power to spearhead a major campaign, headed by real Rabbis and activists, to address this issue for the benefit of the larger community. The gravity of abuse and its terrible consequences requires that we do nothing less than wake up, shake up and turn the community upside down.
I am willing to dedicate to this discussion as much space as necessary on our site. Please let’s push and help our kinderlech (children)…

Thank you,

(signed)

Thank you for your supporting words and confidence. I am not really sure whether I can live up to your expectations to spearhead any major effort, but I can try adding my small contribution to this vital topic.

The only reason I have for the last few weeks been writing about abuse is precisely due to its far-reaching and devastating effects on so many lives. And not just for now, but for generations to come. Everything we build and teach our children, all our investments and dedication to good, all our moral standards, our entire education system, can be wiped out in one fell swoop when we or our children are violated.

I have been trained in the Torah way of thinking that any question we have must be framed in objective context, and weighed by various moral criteria that help us achieve some clarity. This is especially true for controversial and emotionally charged issues, due to their subjective effect on all of us – fear, anger, vengeance, shock, disbelief, and all the other complex feelings evoked by abuse.

The first of all ethical and Torah axioms must be stated at the outset: No one has a right to in any way violate in any way the body or soul of another human being. Indeed, we don’t even have the right to mutilate our own bodies, because your body does not belong to you; it is “Divine property.” Let alone someone else’s property. No crime is worse that assaulting another’s dignity – which is compared to the dignity of G-d Himself, being that every person was created in the Divine Image. Even a hanged murderer must not be defiled and his body not left to hang overnight because it reflects the Divine Image. How much more so – infinitely more so – regarding a live person and innocent child…

Abuse, in any form or shape, physical, psychological, verbal, emotional or sexual, is above all a violent crime – a terrible crime. Abusing another (even if it’s intangible) is no different than taking a weapon and beating someone to a pulp. And because of its terrible long-term effects, the crime is that much worse.

What do we do with violent criminals? We punish them. Once it has been determined that abuse was perpetrated, there should be consequences, both for the perpetrator and as a deterrent to other potential violators. The actual consequences need to be determined by local legal and Torah standards by the authorities on location. If for any reason the Torah authorities cannot deal with the situation, the only recourse is the same one employ for murderers, thieves and other criminals: legal action.

The next question is this: What are our obligations as parents, teachers, writers, website editors, or just plain adult citizens, when it comes to abuse?

On one hand we are talking about protecting innocent people from criminal predators, which clearly is a major obligation and priority concern. On the other hand, we do have laws prohibiting embarrassing people (even criminals) in public, always hopeful, allowing people to correct their ways. We have laws about avoiding gossip and speaking ill about others (loshon hora), and not feeding into the base instinct of “talking about others” or “mob mentality” witch-hunting expeditions.

We have several obligations when we see or know about a crime, as well as obligations to prevent further crimes:

1) A witness to a crime who does not testify “must bear his guilt” (Leviticus 5:1).

2) “Do not place a stumbling block before the blind” (Leviticus 19:14), which includes the obligation to warn someone from a danger we are aware of. If you see someone walking down the street and you know that further down the block there is an uncovered pit in the ground or a man with a gun, you are obligated to warn him.

If we are aware of a predator we must do everything possible to protect people from him.

3) “Do not stand still over your neighbor’s blood (when your neighbor’s life is in danger)” (Leviticus 19:16). It’s interesting to note that this commandment follows (in the same verse) “do not go around as a gossiper among your people,” suggesting that gossip is an issue only when no life is in danger. But if a life is in danger then “do not stand still” even if means speaking about it in public.

4) “You must admonish your neighbor, and not bear sin because of him” (ibid 17).

If one does not admonish, then he is responsible for the other’s sin (Sefer HaMitzvot, Positive 205; see Shabbat 54b. 119b). Though at the outset rebuke must be done “in private, kindly and gently,” not to embarrass him publicly (Arkhin 16b; Sefer HaMitzvoth, Negative 305), but if it doesn’t help, the obligation is to admonish him in pubic (Rambam Deos 6:8. Shulchan Aruch HaRav Hilchos Onaah v’Gneivas Daas 30).

This is true even about a crime that does not affect other people. All the care taken about public shame is because the crime does not affect the public. And even then, there are situations where the admonishment must be done publicly. By contrast, in our discussion about abuse, which affects others, all these restrictions do not apply: Embarrassment of a criminal is never an excuse a reason to put anyone else in potential danger.

Based on the above, I would submit that the following criteria to determine whether to publish and publicize the name of a molester:

1) The abuse must be established without a shred of doubt. Because just as we must protect the potential victims of abuse, we also are obligated to protect the reputations of the innocent, and not wrongly accuse anyone without evidence or witnesses.

2) Publicizing the fact will serve as a deterrent or even possible deterrent of further crimes, or will warn and protect possible future victims. If that is true, than “loshon hora” (speaking ill about someone) does not apply. It would be the equivalent of saying that it is “loshan hora” to warn someone of a weapon-wielding criminal who may cause harm!

If however publicity will not serve any benefit to the public, then there would be no reason to mention an individual’s name. For instance, if abuse took place years ago, and the crime has recently surfaced, unless publicizing the name could potentially protect future incidents, what point would there be to exposing the identity of the abuser? He may even have done teshuvah and been rehabilitated.

Even if he caused great damage to those he abused, and his victims want to get even and publicize his name, that alone may not be enough reason, unless it may help prevent future abuse. What may require further research is whether public shame in this instance is a legitimate form of punishment. This also touches upon the laws of forgiveness, which include the exception that one need not forgive if the perpetrator still needs to be humbled or if in the process the victim is being hurt.

3) Even if a name is not publicized, the issue of abuse itself must be addressed for the same reasons stated: To make the public aware of the dangers, to protect innocent children.

The argument that publicity will give the community a “bad name” and “why wash our dirty laundry in public?” does not supersede the obligation to protect the innocent from being hurt.

Anyone who suggests that abuse must be overlooked, because (as one person told me) it “happens all the time” and “by many people, including our leaders,” or for any other reasons – is not different than ignoring any other crime, and is in itself a grave crime.

One could even argue, that the greatest “Kiddush Hashem” (sanctifying G-d’s name) is when a Torah based community demonstrates that it doesn’t just mechanically follow the laws or isn’t merely concerned with reputations and shidduchim, but that it sets and demands the highest standard of accountability amongst its citizens, and invest the greatest possible measures to protect its children from predators, create trust and absolutely will not tolerate any breach or abuse. That the greatest sin of all is ignoring or minimizing crimes being perpetrated against our most innocent and vulnerable members: our children.

In conclusion: The bottom line in all matters regarding abuse is one and only one thing: Protecting the innocent. Not the reputation of an individual, not the reputation of the community, not anything but the welfare of our children. In every given case, whether to publicize or not, whether to take any other action or not, the question that must be asked is this: What is best for the potential victims? Will or can this action help prevent someone from being hurt or not? If the answer is yes or even maybe yes, then the action should be taken.

Obviously, this has to be looked at on a case-by-case basis, due to the different nuances in every given situation. And of course, there will be instances when there are exceptions due to unique circumstances. Therefore, it is vital that competent, sensitive and educated authorities be consulted when a question arises.

My writing is not meant to serve as a “psak halacha,” a legal ruling. Rather, simply an attempt to frame the issues in terms that can help us discuss the issues and come away with some measure of clarity.

Legal rulings require more in-depth review and analysis by experts, preferably by more than one, to establish a consensus.

But one thing is clear: The crisis has reached a boiling point where is must be addressed and brought to the attention of the public, if nothing else, to make everyone aware of the dangers, the long-term consequences and the zero-tolerance policy that needs to be applied to every form of abuse.

Anything less would be irresponsible, immoral, and, yes, is some way complicit.

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This week’s Haftorah, the fourth of the seven weeks of comfort, accelerates the healing process from all forms of abuse against our children. It describes how G-d Himself – I, I (anochi, anochi) – comforts His people.

I, I am He who comforts you. Who are you that you fear mortal men, and the son of man, who will be made like grass. And have forgotten G-d, your Maker, who stretched out the heavens, and laid the foundations of the earth; so that you are constantly afraid of the oppressor’s fury as he prepares to destroy? And where is the oppressor’s fury?

Despite the impeccable logic, that we should not fear mere mortals in the face of a formidable G-d, the fact remains that we do fear them. As Rabbi Yochanan ben Zakkai told his students at his deathbed:

“May you fear G-d as much as you fear man.”

Oh, how life would be different if we did not fear, and could not be hurt by, people of flesh and blood. If we could only transcend the oppressor’s fury.

Yet, despite our short-sightedness, the Haftorah comforts us with the knowledge that our fears are unfounded and unnecessary. By meditating on the extreme contrast between transient oppressors and an immortal G-d, that very awareness can help lift us to a greater place, which cushions, if not immunizes us against, the harsher impact of abuse.

Ask people who have learned to heal from their wounds and virtually every one of them will tell you that a major step – indeed, the first of the twelve steps – toward healing consisted of recognizing that you, the human, are powerless. You must surrender to a Higher force, to G-d, and recognize that G-d protects us against predators. As long as you hold on to the illusion – one that holds us trapped in its iron-clad tentacles – of earthly power (“one world and many gods”), you remain a victim to your own beliefs. When you discover that there is “only one G-d but many worlds,” you become free of the fear of losing one world, because there is always another that can fill its place.

I have put My words in your mouth, and covered you in the shadow of My hand, planting the heavens, laying the earth’s foundation, and saying to Zion: ‘You are My people.’

But this discovery does not come without a price. Often we need to hit rock bottom before we awake. To achieve this level of cognizance requires a wake up call.

Awake, awake, stand up, Jerusalem! You have drunk from G-d’s hand the cup of His fury. You have drunk and drained the cup of the bowl of staggering.

Of all the sons she has borne, there is no one to guide her; nor is there any, of all the sons she brought up, who takes her by the hand. Your sons fainted; they lie at the head of every street like an antelope in a net. They are full of G-d’s fury, the rebuke of your Lord.

Awake, awake, put on your strength, O Zion. Shake yourself from the dust, arise, and sit down, O Jerusalem. Free yourself from the bonds around your neck, O captive daughter of Zion.

Depart, depart, go out from there, touch no unclean thing. Go out from her midst, purify yourselves, you bearers of G-d’s vessels.

Your sons fainted… Captive daughter…

It is quite unnerving to read the Haftorah with child abuse in mind and see its uncanny relevance (I didn’t even quote the rawer verses).

But above all is the overriding message of deep hope:

I, I am He who comforts you. I, who planted the heavens, laid the earth’s foundation, say to you: ‘You are My people.’

What Can We Do to Prevent it?

Afflicted one, storm-ravaged and disconsolate; behold, I will set your stones in fair colors, and lay the foundations with sapphires. I will make your windows of rubies, your gates of carbuncles, and all your boundaries of precious gems. And all your children will be taught about G-d; great will be the peace of your children. – This week’s Haftorah reading (Isaiah 54:11-55:5)

Dear Rabbi Jacobson,

I am one of the victims of sustained sexual abuse you so sensitively wrote about in your powerful and profound article The Destruction and Restoration of Dignity. My life has been rendered into one battle after another in my desperate search for love, and above all – self-love. The single most damaging effect of abuse is, as you accurately describe, the assault on dignity and violation of self-worth. Feeling like “damaged goods.”

Your article deeply moved me and made me feel free. I will read it many times over. To have someone of your stature speaking about these issues is extremely encouraging. It may be an opening – as it was for me – to help wounded spirits breath again.

Now, my greatest concern is my own children. How, as you ask, can I protect them? Having experienced first-hand the damage of abuse, I work very hard, to cultivate and nurture my children’s self-esteem, through sustained efforts to reinforce and validate their beings and their malchus (as you put it), with unconditional love.

But how can we protect our children from the predators outside our homes? I shudder whenever I think – which is quite often – about of the potential dangers that lurk out there.

No words can describe my appreciation to you for bringing to the surface these issues, which is in itself part of the process of healing, like fresh air on deeply ingrained infections. Now let us continue the dialogue by addressing what can and must be done to protect our children.

Blessings to you,

(signed)

One of the most resonating and powerful statements you made in your last article is that “only a radical jolt to the psyche will cause someone to explicitly break away from their peer group.” You cited a psychologist who stated: “In my experience I am slowly coming to the conclusion that in many of these cases the radical jolt began with some form of sexual molestation, in which the child’s inner dignity was violated. When someone is hurt on that level it defiles the innermost, intimate dimensions of the psyche; it drives the child into silence (out of shame and fear he will not speak about the abuse with parents or teachers), a silence and loneliness that eats away, like a cancer, at the child’s inner dignity.”

So what can be done to prevent such jarring experiences that can so alter our children’s lives? Can we do anything to create safer environments for our sons and daughters? Or are we resigned, as some of my friends contend, that nothing can be done, and basically minimize or ignore the issues (the thing called “denial”) to make the horror a bit more tolerable.

One of my colleagues put it this way: Sending our kids to school and camp is like sending them into a minefield. All we can do is close our eyes and pray that they will come out intact.

Do you agree with that, Rabbi?

(signed)

No, I unequivocally disagree with that last statement. We are not victims and we are never helpless. Is life a challenge? Absolutely. Are there predators in our midst? Undeniably. But we are not powerless. A fundamental principle in Torah is that there is no challenge that we cannot overcome. We never face adversity that we can’t handle.  We are never asked to do something that is beyond our capacity.

We need not retreat in fear. We should not convince ourselves that this is “someone else’s problem” and could “never happen to me and my family.” We must put our heads and hearts together and take on this man-made plague. As those who work in the field of healing say: Anything that can be broken can be fixed (does anyone know the source?).

The axiom that we can do something about abuse (and about all life’s predicaments) is based on the fundamental principle that a good G-d created this universe and imbued in existence is inherent beauty. That no matter what wounds we sustain, our souls always remain intact. The Divine spirit in each in of us can go under cover – concealed by many, many layers – due to abuse; but it nevertheless always remains alive within. As we read in this week’s Haftorah (the third of the seven weeks of comfort):

Incline your ear, and come to Me. Hear, that your soul will live.

If, for example, you believe that “survival of the fittest” is the driving engine of life, then the logical conclusion is that life is not fair and often predators will prevail and their victims will forever remain damaged. The inevitable consequence of this depressing attitude is, as the Haftorah begins, that the afflicted one, storm-ravaged does not feel comforted.

But, when you know that beneath all the narcissism of material existence there is profound beauty and sublime energ. A gentle child is hidden under the hard crust of your adult armor.  Nothing, absolutely nothing, but your own self-doubt, can vanquish your spirit.

If it weren’t for this fact, we all may as well give up. Our challenge is to hold on to this knoweldge, this trust, even in the darkest moments.

While working with others to address the challenge of eliminating abuse in our communities, I have asked the following question:  What should we do to protect our children from abuse?  The grass-roots consensus of the people with whom I have spoken is that educating the children is the key. They said that we must teach them, from a young age, how to recognize and protect themselves from inappropriate touch. They said that children must know (a) No one has a right to violate their privacy, and (b) They should immediately report anyone who touches them inappropriately – even if that person has told them not to say anything.  they must learn that such threats are empty and that they will be protected from anyone who has threatened them.

“At what age,” I asked, “should we begin to speak to our children?” Some said as early as they can understand.

I would like to examine this premise further.  Is speaking to children actually effective? Does it help to warn children? I can tell you from personal experience that when I was warned to watch out for predators, I was terrified.  I began to see threats everywhere.   Children are naturally trustful. But, when they are warned to watch for a threat, they may take it to an extreme.

Another complicating factor is that abuse most often does not happen does not happen at the hands of strangers sitting in cars, offering candies or toys to unsuspecting children. Such pedophiles exist and children can be taught to avoid such situations.  Often abuse is committed by an older friend or relative — someone close to the child.  This person is usually someone the child would never suspect and whom the child would find difficult to repel.  Once violated, most children would not tell anyone, out of fear and shame.

The strategy of teaching the children, though imporrant,  addresses only symptoms, not root cause.  It addresses only one side of the equation: the victim.  What about the perpetrator?

This approach suggests, most subtly, that the victim is at fault.  Had the child protected himself, had she protested, had he reported the abuse, things would have been fine. This feeds the victimization mentality.

The approach also assumes that predators and sexual abuse are a given.  All we can do is create strong defenses. This promotes a “defensive” and  fearful approach to life. Is that a way to live?

Children should know that they have the right to speak up and seek help, while adults also have a responsibility to create environments where abuse is recognized, reported, and taken seriously. That means looking beyond the familiar image of a stranger posing a threat and acknowledging that children can be harmed by people they already know and trust.

Prevention therefore requires more than teaching a child what to do in a frightening situation; it also requires adults to understand warning signs, challenge harmful silence, and take responsibility for creating safer homes and communities. This wider focus is central to the Maxfield’s mission, which grew from efforts to address child sexual abuse through both survivor support and prevention, including greater awareness of the risks children face.

Protecting children cannot rest on fear or on expecting them to defend themselves against adults who abuse their trust. It has to involve the people around them taking an active role in recognizing abuse, speaking openly about it, and creating conditions where children are believed and protected.

I would like to propose another approach:  Focus on the predators, not on the victims. Beyond the more “documented” cases of abusers, most (undocumented) abuse is perpetrated by friends who are “having fun” and are not necessarily clinical pedophiles. They are experimenting. They don’t understand the damage they are doing.

We need to initiate a wide-spread campaign to inform kids that touching and in any way violating the private space of another is not a “game.” It has devastating consequences.

Sexuality is the most intimate and most vulnerable place in the human psyche. When violated it is not like a brawl with a bully, which leaves temporary bruises.  Improper touching leaves scars etched in the psyche and memory. Thse wounds can hurt a person for a lifetime.

Though we must do everything possible to deal with the symptoms of abuse, our greatesy challenge is to address the root of the issue.  Abuse is only possible because there is a climate, an environment, a breeding ground that allows abuse to fester and thrive. That breeding ground is the utter ignorance and lack of appreciation of the fundamental sanctity of sexuality. Society as a whole has allowed (or even encouraged) sexuality to be divorced of its intimate mystique; it has been turned into commodity instead of mystery; casual instead of permanent; mechanics instead of relationship; a verb instead of a noun.

The Torah calls sexuality “knowledge” – “Adam knew Eve.” Knowledge is an intimate bond, not a “quick fix.” Knowledge takes years to develop, to nurture, to cultivate. The dignity of the princess is within, more than the golden clothing which she wears (Psalms, 45:14). It is an internal experience, one that works from the inside out, not from the outside in.

Accordingly, we must come out with a massive educational campaign, treated with great sensitivity, to re-indoctrinate all of us – including our children – in the meaning of intimacy. And how violating someone’s intimate space has far-reaching implications.

To address and prevent a state of abuse – Afflicted one, storm-ravaged and disconsolate ­– the verse continues: And all your children will be taught about G-d; great will be the peace of your children. By teaching our children about the sanctity of life and intimacy, great will be their peace and comfort they will find amidst the storms surrounding us.

Sexuality, by its very nature, is provoked and fueled by discussion. Therefore, great care must be taken that the subject be addressed with the appropriate modesty and subtlety. There are some who address the issue of intimacy in non-intimate ways, like speaking about modesty in an immodest fashion; they say the right things in the wrong way. The sanctity and privacy of our most vulnerable place must taught by sensitive professionals who will avoid any provocative expressions or associations. It should be discussed privately with a student, or at most with two or three students, and it should be discussed separately with boys and girls, to keep the boundaries clear. (For more on this, please see the chapter on Intimacy in Toward A Meaningful Life).

I have no doubt that if kids knew what they were tampering with, and sexual sensitivity would become a social standard (yeh, I know that it’s not happening overnight), even if it would not solve all our problems, it would have visible impact.

In addition: Awareness of the power of sexuality and the damage of abuse should lead to instituting a policy of zero tolerance of predators. As a deterrent they must know that they will be ostracized. Every school and institution where children congregate can appoint a professional to look for signs of abuse. Any detection, any suspicion, should be pursued (obviously, with great care not to accuse innocent people, and with the knowledge that accusation can sometimes be made out of acrimony). Anyone violated would be encouraged to speak up and, when enough reports come in, approach the predator and threaten him. Fear of this nature can have powerful impact.

We are now approaching the period known as of “the seven weeks of comfort.”   This coincides with the beginning of the new school year.  It is the perfect time to set new standards and declare that we will do whatever it takes to protect everyone (especially our children) from abuse … no weapon that is formed against you shall prosper.

[This article is focused on sexual abuse. Of course, there are other destructive forms of abuse that violate human dignity which deserve to be addressed].
Please send me your thoughts and suggestions on how to help protect our children. It would be a great service to create a public forum and dialogue to bring this matter to the fore.  Let’s learn from one another and benefit from our collective wisdom.

Dignity Revisited

After last week’s heart wrenching article, one of my friends writes: “OMG – what an absolutely depressing essay…… Wednesday night you were in such a good mood – what happened?”

Seeing a soul taken captive by drugs is sad indeed, as is witnessing a life wrecked by sexual abuse. But it’s not more depressing than Tisha B’Av, the saddest day of the year, when the Holy Temples were destroyed and all human dignity was violated, changing the course of history…

I was quite overwhelmed by the outpour of responses to last weeks article, and even more so, by their tone. “Your essay brought many tears to my eyes, especially as someone close to me had their malchus destroyed…” “You depicted the story of my life…” “So relieving that someone is addressing these unspoken issues…” “This is so powerful for me that I for one am going to investigate the opportunities here in Boston for adult education in this arena…”

Most impressive of all was the profound empathy that so many of you, from very diverse perspectives, expressed about my “war-torn” friend Michael and his wasted life. Clearly, Michael’s story is far too prevalent – and effects far too many of us.

Due to the high volume of responses and my time limitations I will be unable to personally acknowledge every one of your letters. I would therefore like to use this opportunity to thank everyone for their heartfelt comments and especially for the different suggestions how to reach my childhood friend.

Many tears indeed can be shed for our children whose lives are prematurely “hijacked” by the demons of abuse and drugs; bright futures suddenly aborted; robbed of their possibilities; injured psyches. It’s one thing when an elder person, who has endured losses and pain, gets jaded. But when children – innocent young men and women – fall hostage to despair, there are few sadder sights.

Its’ not supposed to work that way. As life wear on there will be plenty of anguish and loss. But our children? Let them have their hopes and dreams. Let them be driven with enthusiasm and passion to change the world.

Medicine today has vanquished many of the plagues of old. But today we are living through a new plague: Our youth falling prey to predators and substances that take over their lives.

To ignore or deny this sad reality is in many ways worse than the crime itself. As survivors will tell you: “The silence was worse than the rape.”

We thus have the Nine Days, culminating with Tisha b’Av to acknowledge and honor the assault and devastation wreaked on our human dignity (malchus). As uncomfortable as it addressing this may be, not addressing it is worse.

Accordingly, last week’s Haftorah doesn’t mince words as it describes in no uncertain terms the damage humans can inflict on themselves and their children. The “vision of Isaiah” is brutal:

“Hear, O heavens, and listen, O earth, for G-d has spoken: I nurtured and brought up children, but they rebelled against Me.”

“The ox knows his owner, and the ass its master’s crib; but Israel does not know; My people do not understand. Ah sinful nation, a people laden with iniquity, offspring of evildoers, children who deal corruptly… they are utterly estranged… The entire head is sick, and the entire heart faint. From head to foot there is nothing sound in it, only wounds, bruises and putrefying sores; they have not been pressed out, or bound up, or softened with oil.

“Your country is desolate; your cities burned with fire. Strangers plunder your land in your very presence; it is desolate, as if overthrown by floods. And Zion’s daughter is left like a hut in a vineyard, like a shack in a cucumber field, like a besieged city.”

Even the “committed” worshippers of G-d are mechanical and repulsive, masking the corruption within:

“Stop bringing meaningless offerings; they are offerings of abomination to Me. New Moon, Sabbath, and the Festivals – I cannot bear iniquity along with solemn assembly. When you spread out your hands, I will hide My eyes from you. Yes, even though you multiply your prayers, I will not hear; your hands are full of blood. Wash yourselves, make yourselves clean. Remove the evil of your doings from before My eyes; stop doing evil. Learn to do good: seek justice, relieve the oppressed, defend the fatherless, plead for the widow.

“How the faithful city has become a prostitute! She was full of justice, righteousness lodged in her, but now murderers. Your princes are rebellious, and companions of thieves. Every one loves bribes, and chases after rewards. They do not defend the fatherless, nor do they take on the widow’s cause.”

Apply these words to our times and it you have a description of a society that is allowing its children to fall prey to the forces of corruption. Jerusalem – the “faithful city” – is a symbol of each one of us, it is the “malchus” (Kiryat melech rav) within the psyche; and its being ravaged represents the violation of our individual dignity. Each verse dissected depicts different psychological symptoms of abuse, to help us diagnose the problem (so that we can then apply the appropriate interventions).

But, thankfully, the story does not end here. After Tisha B’av, the Hebrew calendar moves forward like a spinning wheel, and in its powerful way, teaches us to align our lives to the cycle of healing from our previous wounds.

This Shabbos, following Tisha b’Av, is called Shabbas Nachamu, when we are comforted: “Comfort, comfort my people” – begins the Haftorah. Now we arrive at the point where we can repair and transform our fractured psyches.

And just as each verse in last week’s Haftorah (Chazon) helps us diagnose the problem, the verses in this week’s Haftorah reveal the methods to heal. And therein surely lies the answer to Michael and to the other “Michael’s” we know.

“Comfort my people, comfort them.”

When you see someone hurting be gentle, be sensitive – extend kindness. This is not a time for judgment or even analysis. Just be there for your friend.

“Speak to the heart of Jerusalem:” Not to the mind, but to the heart, the pure heart within the person in pain. Words from the heart enter the heart. Words from the mind enter one ear and exit out the other. In time of emotional anguish only speaking from and to the heart can work.

“Proclaim to her that her warfare is over:” Tell her soul that she no longer has to fight. Is she just wishes it, she can begin to let her guard down.

“Her iniquity is pardoned:” You are forgiven.

Stop blaming yourself. One of the tragic symptoms of childhood hurt and abuse is the tendency to blame yourself. Children of divorced parents, of feuding adults, blame themselves for the problems. Some say that this is because a child cannot tolerate the possibility that his/her parents – who are everything to the child – can be at fault. Left with no one else to blame, the child erroneously sees himself as the culprit. And this self-loathing and sense of inadequacy further erodes the child’s confidence. “You are pardoned” – we must tell the person. It’s not your fault. Don’t allow yourself to be invalidated. You have all the strength necessary to pick up the pieces and rebuild your life.

“For she has received from G-d’s hands double for all her sins:” For every fall, we receive double amount of strength to overcome the challenge.

“Listen, a voice calls in the wilderness: Prepare the way for G-d. Make straight in the desert a path for G-d:” Even in the throes of despair, lost deep in the wilderness, we all have a voice that call out from time to time, and perhaps more often than that if you allow it to speak and allow yourself to listen. In our darkest moments we can pave a way toward redemption. Because embedded within the shadows lays enormous potency.

“Every valley will be lifted up, and every mountain and hill made low; the crooked will become level and rough places a plain:” Life is a cycle. Like a spinning wheel, even the dips in life are only a step away from the wheel’s ascent. And vice versa.

“And G-d’s glory will be revealed and all flesh will see it together; for G-d’s mouth has spoken:” Even – or perhaps only – our flesh, our hedonistic experiences of pleasure, even the most depraved, can lead us to seeing the deepest dimensions of the Divine Essence. As Chassidic teachings explain: The material, created “yesh” (the ego of the flesh) originates in the true “yesh” (the Essence of the Divine). One who has self-indulged and been consumed by addiction and other material obsessions, can channel and transform these passions into powerful forces of good.

“Listen! One says: ‘Shout!’ And he says: ‘What shall I shout?’ ‘Shout that mankind is grass, and all its beauty is like the flower of the field; The grass withers, the flower fades beneath G-d’s breath; surely the people are like grass. The grass withers, the flower fades; but G-d’s word will stand forever.’” Shout – yes, shout. Yell out from your very guts that not just hurt souls but all of us wither and fade. Only by connecting to the Higher Reality do we mortals gain access to the immortal.

“Like a shepherd He will feed his flock. He will gather the lambs in His arms, carry them in His bosom, gently leading those with young:” When you are vulnerable and allow yourself to be lifted, your Divine soul will carry you through the darkest times. The one set of footprints in the sand are those of G-d carrying you when you had no strength of your own to survive.

“Do you not know? Do you not hear? Have you not been told from the beginning? Haven’t you understood from the foundations of the earth?” – People living in their comfort zones can often not see the inner truths. They are trapped on the surface level of existence. When you have nothing, you have nothing to lose and only to gain. Suffering and upheaval reveals cracks in the veneer, allowing us a peek inside, into the foundations of existence. When all is dark – a new light can shine through. But we need to avoid being trapped in our despair. We need to attune our perception and cup our ears – and listen to the voice that goes back to the beginning of it all.

“Lift up your eyes on High, and see. Who created these? He who brings out their host by number, calling them all by name through the greatness of His might, and the force of His power:” Those surrounded by material success, who see the functioning world around them, can be seduced and blinded by their own vision; they see nothing but themselves and their self-interests.  When everything around you is shrouded and you have nowhere to turn, except to your own self-destructive patterns, you have the unique opportunity – not being deluded by the follies of existence – to lift up your eyes on High and see the force that has put all in place.

And the Haftorah concludes:

“Not one is missing:” Your very survival, despite all that you have endured, is a testimony that someone is watching over you. Your only enemy is your own self-perception: If you feel you are lost, you will remain lost. If you feel that you are missing; not just to others, but to yourself: that you don’t recognize yourself – your own self-defeating attitude will not allow you to be found.

“Not one is missing:” If nothing else, just do not give up on yourself.

Life is tough. For some tougher than for others. Many battles have been waged; many scars endured. And there are more battles to come.

But today, rest your head on my shoulder.

Be comforted all you/us tortured souls. Be comforted.