— The Post Buffett and Gates Era: A New Paradigm —

A major historical event happened this week, and though it made headlines, its significance was not duly appreciated. I submit that when the annals of history are written, this event will go down as a major milestone, marking a shift in human consciousness and leaving an impact that will reshape future attitudes.

The event is Warren Buffet’s breathtaking announcement that he would donate 85 per cent of his wealth to charity, an amount worth about $37 billion – the largest charitable commitment in history.

Let’s put this generosity in historical context.

Throughout the ages accumulated wealth was simply not given away to charity. Quite the contrary: It was always used to gain and consolidate power and influence.

In days of old and not so old huge sums of money – let alone the value of today’s 37 billion dollars, more than the GNP of over half the countries of the world today – would be used to build monarchies, wage wars, conquer lands and construct monuments of glory.

How money was used may have something to do with the way it was accumulated, largely from non-commercial sources: usually through war, pillaging, ransoms, slavery, taxation, blood-money and bride-money – forces of dominance and control.

Indeed, the history of wealth is directly linked with the history of war and violence, and even the history of religion. Finance lies at the heart of the rise and fall of the great empires and their conquests and defeats – Alexander the Great, the Roman Empire, the Viking assault on England, the Norman Conquest, the Crusades, the Hundred Years War between England and France, the Spanish conquest of Mexico and Peru, the aftermath in Britain of the Napoleonic Wars, the U.S. Civil War, and the financing of the two World Wars. For example: The need to transfer large sums of money to finance the Crusades (1095-1270) provided a stimulus to the re-emergence of banking in Western Europe.

Warfare, with its appalling humanitarian consequences and vast economic costs, has stimulated financial innovations from the spread of coinage to the creation of the national debt. Conversely, economic weakness and the inability to properly utilize financial resources have been causes of military defeats.

Obviously, when wealth is gained through aggressive or criminal activity it will be used to perpetuate corruption, and not serve as a force for good.

James Madison put it this way:

“History records that the money changers have used every form of abuse, intrigue, deceit, and violent means possible to maintain their control over governments by controlling money and its issuance.”

And when wealth is driven by myopic, short term gain it inevitably wanes. Today it is controlled by the prevailing dominant individual or group, and tomorrow by the next vanquisher. It never lasts.

Where, for instance, is the great wealth of the Roman Empire today? Who inherited the vast holdings of the British Empire? And what about Mali, the Ottoman dynasty or the Incas – each the wealthiest empire in its time; today barely remembered?

Every conqueror coming to power – whether it was a monarch or the church – confiscated the treasures of the conquered. Constantine adopted Christianity and following his conversion, he confiscates the enormous treasures amassed over the centuries in the pagan temples throughout the empire.

Indeed, the very root of the word “money” (and “mint”) is derived from the ancient false Roman goddess Moneta, “the goddess who warns,” named after the cackling geese (no joke) of Juno that warned the Romans when the Gauls tried to take the Capitolium in 390 BCE [quite consistent with the Rebbe Yosef Yitzchak’s idiom: Gelt (money in Yiddish) is the gematria of bloteh (mud)].

Some even make a case for a conspiracy amongst the global aristocracy of wealth, arguing that the top Western industrialists and institutions were behind the rise of Communism and Fascism around the world. As W. Cleon Skousen writes in The Naked Capitalist, his review of Dr. Carroll Quigley’s Tragedy and Hope:

“Power from any source tends to create an appetite for additional power… It was almost inevitable that the super-rich would one day aspire to control not only their own wealth, but the wealth of the whole world.”

“As I see it,” Skousen writes, “the great contribution which Dr. Carroll Quigley unintentionally made…was to help the ordinary American people realize the utter contempt which the network leaders have for ordinary people. Human beings are treated en masse as helpless puppets on an international chess board where giants of economic and political power subject them to wars, revolution, civil strife, confiscation, subversion, indoctrination, manipulation and outright deception as it suits their fancy and their concocted schemes for world domination.”

Whether you agree with this argument or not, no one can doubt the history of wealth as a force of control. Money was always synonymous with power, greed and all its corrupt consequences.

Now comes Mr. Buffett and with his unprecedented commitment turns the historical use of wealth on its head.

As long as Bill Gates was the only one to bequeath his fortune to charity the argument could be made that his generosity was an anomaly. But now that the second wealthiest man in the world has joined the wealthiest one in giving away most of his fortune to charity, it is hard to dismiss and should cause us all to raise more than our eyebrows. In contrast to the way wealth was always used for personal gain, Mr. Buffet’s and Mr. Gates’ initiative should capture our attention to realize that something special is underway.

The accumulative amount of both their charitable commitments is simply staggering. Let alone that Mr. Buffet did not link his gift to perpetuating his name (as in a Buffet University or Buffet Foundation)!

Andrew Carnegie fulfilled this ethos of generosity to its fullest extreme. In his 1889 essay “Wealth” (later named “Gospel of Wealth”) – which reportedly had a strong influence on Mr. Gates and Mr. Buffett – presents a powerful argument that “the duty of the man of wealth” is to serve as a “trustee” for the larger community. The wealthy should not give their wealth to their children but to administer it for the benefit and common good of the public, and thereby create the “ideal State, in which the surplus wealth of the few will become, in the best sense, the property of the many”. Carnegie believed, as he wrote in another article in 1908 that “wealth is not chiefly the product of the individual…but largely the joint product of the community.”

The American model in general, and Carnegie’s philosophy and the present Buffett/Gates move in particular is a major event not just in the history of philanthropy (no one has ever bequeathed a larger charitable gift) but in the history of mankind in general. It is nothing less than Messianic: It is essentially a shift from being a taker to becoming a giver.

The difference between these two models of wealth – the historical model of greedy wealth to gain personal power or the model that is now beginning to take hold (let’s call it the post-Gates/Buffett era) of wealth as an opportunity to give – is not merely a difference in approach; it reflects a fundamental different attitude to life.

Are we human beings essentially takers or givers? Is life about you, or about you serving a greater cause?

A few days ago I was speaking with a community leader from a prominent city in New England, a man who has accomplished much in his life of public service. As we were speaking a mutual friend walked by, a businessman who has accumulated a fortune of approximately 90 million dollars. His sheepish look, and forced voice of interest reflected his discomfort. I sensed an underlying resentment. You see people who are takers are very uncomfortable with givers. It exposes their own self-centered lives, and lack of courage to serve. They often enjoy being cynical and criticizing public servants, so that they can be more comfortable in their own skin and not be exposed.

The secret to true happiness is this: The more you give the happier you will be. The more you take the unhappier you will be.

Guaranteed. Test it out and let me know if I’m wrong.

The reason for this is because we are inherently wired to be givers – like G-d in Whose Image we are created – and not takers. Yes, we take in our early formative years, as we are provided for by our parents. But that is only a training period, preparing and shaping us to become true givers. Like a student who must first absorb the wisdom of his teachers before he becomes a teacher himself (and even as you become a teacher and giver yourself, you always remain a student).

Happiness lays in the domain of givers not takers.

We take because we are insecure. Hoarding, collecting, gathering gives us a sense of security – a false sense, but it still feels like you “own” something. In truth we own nothing except our own choices. The great philanthropist Moses Montefiore once told English Queen Victoria:

“The only wealth that I truly own is that which I have given away to good causes. Everything else – all my holdings – are simply under my control for the moment, but they can be lost in the next moment due to a bad decision, war, an accident or other cause which I cannot control. However the good institutions that my money has built are forever; they can never be taken or lost.”

As the train robber declares before he jumps off the train with all the passengers’ belongings in his bag: “Ladies and Gentlemen, please remember, it’s always better to give than to take”… Napoleon Bonaparte in 1815 put it this way (in arguing that government should not be dependent upon bankers for money): “The hand that gives is above the hand that takes.”

It takes a lot more strength and courage to give than to take.

However, in our insecure world, most people have become (unnatural) takers, living in the illusion that hoarding will bring security. We live in a world of “competition” – people competing with each other for status, power and influence. And in this anxious climate, coupled with the psychological insecurities that many of us have assumed due to absentee (or worse) parents that did not cultivate our self-confidence, we seek out panaceas that will give us a tangible sense of control. Money is perhaps the strongest soothing drug of them all.

Not to suggest that money is a curse. It is actually a great blessing, but only when you don’t use wealth as a compensator for your own insecurity, and know that it is a blessing given to you so that you can use it to give to others.

And now we have the major philanthropic stride taken by Mr. Buffett, underscoring the one previously made by Mr. Gates.

[And it comes in an appropriate week: The Korach episode in this week’s Torah portion teaches us about the power of wealth – for good and for bad. Korach was undone by his wealth. And we learn from his behavior about the risks of self-absorbed materialistic abuse, and its subsequent effect of consuming the very perpetrators; yet, at the same time, this is due to man’s weakness, not the fault of the wealth per se, which has the power to lift man to great heights, as discussed at length in another article].

In a world where most people ask: “What more can I take?” there are the precious few who have taken the road less traveled and ask: “What more can I give?”

Perhaps – hopefully – this will begin a trend of giving, turning takers into givers, ushering in a new era of economics: The Economics of Giving.

Maimonides writes that the Messianic age does not necessitate miraculous or cataclysmic external change. The primary change will be from within; a radical shift of consciousness. Instead of seeing materialism as an end in itself, we will see it as a means to “knowing G-d.” This consciousness will affect our economic view. As Maimonides puts it: “Material delights will be found as dust,” which also means that the abundance of material wealth will render it valueless as dust and useless as an end unto itself. This in turn will naturally eliminate envy and competition, hunger, poverty and strife. “The business of this entire world will be to know G-d.”

Today we stand at the threshold of a new economic paradigm. The final frontier of the history of money and wealth: To see the acquisition of wealth as a means for giving and fuel for spiritual growth. Wealth, in short, will finally realize its true value: soul energy, elevating and transforming all of existence.

The wealthiest men in the world today force us all to ask the question about the nature of our own wealth and its acquisition. And how it will be used: For temporary power, to be stashed away gathering dust in some Swiss account, eventually squandered, sometimes a generation or two later, often destroying families in the process, or will the wealth be used for eternal benefit, to build and improve the world.

The first reactions look promising. Just today the media is reporting that Hong Kong action movie star Jackie Chan is looking to bequeath half his fortune to charity, following in the footsteps of Mr. Buffet and Mr. Gates.

Alan Greenspan, former Chairman of the Federal Reserve, once said:

“The history of money is the history of civilization or, more exactly, of some important civilizing values. Its form at any particular period of history reflects the degree of confidence, or the degree of trust, that market participants have in the institutions that govern every market system, whether centrally planned or free.”

I would add that money is the history of civilization because it reflects the inherent conflict of life: Will we be takers or givers?

This is the choice each of us has: Are you more excited when you make money or when you give it away to a good cause?

With a Samach-Vav Twist

— Samach-Vav Part 16 —

Wednesday June 21, 8:30AM – Riding the Number 4 train to Borough Hall, to fulfill my jury duty.

Hundreds of people are filing into the NY State Supreme Courthouse on Adams St. to do their part in “upholding the justice system,” as we are reminded by the indoctrination video welcoming us as we enter the vast hall called Room 216, where I and my compatriots will spend the day.

I come well prepared. With my Samach-Vav [the series of discourses delivered by the Rebbe Rashab a century ago] in hand and other papers to review, I have my day planned. I will study this week’s discourse in Samach-Vav, make a few telephone calls and twiddle my thumbs in between.

My first hurdle was to smuggle my cell phone into the courtroom. The jury instructions clearly stated that “cell phone cameras will be confiscated for the day.” But how can I – and so many of my vulnerable colleagues – survive a day without a cell phone?! What are they thinking?! Do they understand the consequences of cell-phone deprivation? (And why don’t they allow taking photos in courtrooms anyway?)

It didn’t end up being that difficult. I wasn’t the only one with the dilemma. Everyone — and I mean everyone — arriving had a cell phone with them, and we were all allowed in unscathed.

The day is filled with many humorous moments, but perhaps the funniest is when the clerk announces: “Anyone that does not have basic knowledge of English, please line up to my right.” I thought to myself: “How is someone who doesn’t have a basic understanding of English supposed to understand that announcement…” But before I finish my thought the same announcement is made in Spanish, Chinese and Russian.

And here is the funny part: Immediately following the announcement (in English) around a quarter of the crowd arises and begins making their way to the line on the right. Until the clerk continues: “If you’ve lived in the United States for over 20 years the likelihood is that you have a basic knowledge of English.” Some of the people sit back down.

I guess “basic knowledge of English” can means many things; and the desperation of jury duty has a way of making people feel that “basic” is professor level English. Any thing to get outta this place.

The clerk continues: “Not having a basic knowledge of English does not mean that you can go home. It simply means that you will be interviewed.” More people return to their seats.

Clearly, jury duty is meant to keep as many people hostage for at least a full day. But then again, who will sit on juries if we are all allowed loopholes of escape? Doesn’t that sound sweet…

I turn around on my bench to watch the large crowd. People of all backgrounds, colors and creeds fill the room. A true cross section of NY has gathered here today, as they do every day, in room 261, awaiting instructions and their name to be called.

Time to travel elsewhere. I pull out my Samach-Vav.

What sustains negative and evil forces in life? Since they don’t have any power of their own, what keeps them going? Explains the Rebbe Rashab, they are sustained by a force that is called “makif” in mystical language. “Makif” (lit. surrounding) is a transcendent, hovering form of energy that is somewhat removed from the internal details and therefore can tolerate and give off energy even to the “other side.” When you are detached you often allow room for harmful forces.

For this reason, even good deeds need strong protection in this world. Since every good deed we do manifests in the material world, which is a hybrid combination of good and bad, selfish and selfless, there is always a potential that good actions will “feed” negative forces in the process.

Good people with good intentions need protection in a hostile universe. The protection comes from a force that is above and beyond us, an even higher level of makif, called the “distant makif,” a place that is beyond any form of negative influence, which cuts off the flow of energy (from the lower makif) to any unacceptable place. We access this higher makif through the negative mitzvoth (and through Torah). As discussed in a previous segment, the positive mitzvah generates a defined form of Divine energy, one that can be contained in the particular act of each respective good deed. The negative mitzvah manifests the Essence – the Divine energy than is beyond any form of expression, expressed only in the sheer effort of withstanding temptation to do something wrong. By avoiding destructive behavior we fortify our lives, building defenses and drawing down the Essential energy that surrounds us in its embrace and shields us from all harm.

Someone taps me on my shoulder. “We need your form.” Startled, I lift my eyes from Samach-Vav and remember that I am sitting in courtroom waiting to serve on a jury. Will I be arrested for learning Samach-Vav?

I give them my filled out form, and go right back to my thoughts.

This week’s Torah chapter and the following one discuss two opposite philosophies in dealing with the challenge of materialism.

Escapism and immersion.

The scouts, in this week’s chapter, are charged by Moses to check out the land of Israel in preparation of its conquest. The scouts return with a terrible report: “We cannot go forward against those people [living in Israel]. They are too strong for us.”

Hmm, the scouts were good people with good intentions, but they lacked the necessary protection. The scouts, the best men of their time, wanted to live spiritual lives, and felt that the optimal protection from the strangling tentacles of materialism is to avoid engagement at all cost. To remain in the insulated wilderness. The land is too powerful, they argued, a “land that consumes its inhabitants.”

And in their insistence to protect themselves from the material they ended up destroying their true protection. Because after all is said and done, what protects us in this world is not our own logical machinations, but a deep faith in the Divine, and the power that the Divine endows us to face all the challenges of life. [Joshua and Caleb, by contrast, did have extra protection: Moses prayed for Joshua’s wellbeing, and Caleb prayed at the gravesite of the patriarchs and matriarchs at the Machpela cave in Chevron].

You can run but you can’t hide. The scouts wanted to run – to escape behind the clouds of glory, the bread from heaven and the miracle water – to avoid the material land that “consumes its inhabitants.” All good and fine, but it is G-d that created the material land, and it is G-d who commanded the people, and blessed them, to enter the Promised Land, thereby giving them all the power and protection they need to not only survive but to thrive.

As Joshua and Caleb declared:

“[it] is a very, very good land. If G-d is satisfied with us…He can bring it to us. If you don’t rebel against G-d you won’t need to be afraid of the people in the land, because they are our ‘bread’ [i.e. we can transform them by elevating their sparks], [G-d will] have taken away their protection [i.e. the sustenance and power they receive from the makif, “shadow” (tzel)]. G-d is with us so don’t be afraid.”

Korach on the other hand (in next week’s portion) took the exact opposite approach: Since G-d created and placed us into the material world and we have nothing to fear, let us immerse ourselves entirely in materialism to elevate its powerful Divine sparks. His mistake was that you cannot survive on the protective “makif” energy from above alone. You need to build a life of virtue in this material world, through positive actions.

In Samach-Vav terminology: The scouts wanted the inner life (pnimi) without the protecting makif; Korach wanted the makif without the pnimi.

Extreme insulation and extreme immersion are not acceptable options.

To live a spiritual life in a material world requires not only avoidance and insulation but the ability to engage life and transform it.

Insulation and integration.

Back to earth, my name is called. Off we march to Room 5 to be screened as prospective jurors. After a judge instructs us as to the procedures, the attorneys representing the plaintiff and the defendant interview us to see if we will, as they put it, be fair and impartial. The case is about a door falling on a cleaning lady who is suing the owner for pain, suffering and damages.

I won’t bore you with the details. Bottom line is I am dismissed from this jury, and return to the lounge to continue serving my sentence.

I make some casual conversation, perhaps looking for the Divine providence of meeting someone I need to meet on this Wednesday. A man shares with me his tragic life. His mentally disturbed wife ran off with his son. He is so alone. Too many people are so alone. Life is too sad for too many people…

I escape back to Samach-Vav. Escape is not an option, the Rebbe Rashab tells me. Immerse, but stay above. Engage – and transform. Influence, don’t be influenced. Enter the universe and lift it.

No where to run. No where to hide.

1:00PM – Lunch time. At 12:45 an announcement sets off a scramble for the doors. Nothing like lunch break. I remain behind to see if anyone has anything else to do but run for lunch. No one remains. I guess no one wants to die of hunger. Or is it the lunch ritual that has us all programmed?

Off I go roaming the streets of downtown Brooklyn looking for a kosher meal. Not so simple. Finally a kosher stand emerges. Sit down on the wide steps of another office building to eat and observe. Are these steps that lead you somewhere or makeshift lunch seats that just look like steps?

2PM – back to the courtroom. Now what? We wait, and wait, and wait. Finally at 4:00PM I and many of my co-potential-jurors are discharged.

So now you know: I am a good American citizen, fulfilling my duty to the justice system. Ho-hum.

But I don’t know if I could survive just on that.

Thank G-d for Samach-Vav…

Present and Future

Educate the youngster according to his way; then, even when he grows old, he shall not depart from it — Proverbs 22:6

Raise the flames; kindle them until the flames rise on their own — opening of this week’s Torah portion (Numbers 8:2)

There is an educational crisis in guaranteeing a Jewish future.

Check out the following fascinating statistic: Worldwide intermarriage is currently over 72%. In some places it has reached an astronomical 90%. Ten cities (outside of Israel) have a substantial lower rate of intermarriage: Manchester, Toronto, Baltimore, Melbourne, Sydney, Johannesburg, Cape Town, Antwerp, San Paulo and Monterey. One common denominator distinguishes these cities from all others: Over 75% of Jewish children receive a Jewish education. In New York by contrast, the largest Jewish city in the world, only 12.5% of the Jewish children attend a Jewish school. Only 6% of all Jewish children in the United States attend Jewish Day Schools.

The evidence is clear and conclusive: Education of the young is the key to preserving spiritual identity.

But how? How do we change the current state of education? What practical steps can we take? And who will lead the way?

Half the cure of a problem is identifying it. Wise questions are half the solution.

Any unsuccessful institution – in our case, Jewish education which is failing our youth – is flawed in one or both of two ways: 1) The institution itself is not working. 2) The target audience it is trying to reach is not interested.

As a framework, let us break down the problem into several categories, which can actually be seen as a type of survey, questions that welcome your answers:

First the institutions:

1)     Is the problem with the institutions themselves? Are they not serving the needs of – or communicating their services effectively to – the wider population? Or are the existing institutions simply unequipped to serve the secular Jewish population?

2)     If so, what types of new institutions need to be created that will attract wider audiences?

Now to the target audience:

3)     Why do most parents not see Jewish education as a priority?

4)     How do we make it a major priority?

Which brings us finally to the education system itself: What exactly is wrong with our educational systems and methods that simply do not speak to the masses?

For one, many stereotypes, some fed by continuing attitudes, haunt Judaism. The prevailing opinion is that Judaism, and religion in general, is archaic, primitive – a throwback to the past. In one word: Irrelevant to contemporary life. Even those that feel a need for religion and faith do not find the need met in existing institutions.

The problem becomes infinitely compounded when you add into the equation the decelerating cycle of lack of education, and resulting ignorance and assimilation. In its ruins, we are left with a vicious cycle of symptoms feeding the root problem, and vice versa.

Here are some of the most common problems in – or attitudes to – the current educational system:

1)     Fear vs. love

Some argue that there is a lack of discipline in our educational institutions. Citing the verse, He who spares the rod hates his son, but one who loves him is careful to discipline him (Proverbs 13:24), they advocate the need to instill fear and respect in our children.

The problem with this approach, of course, is considering that most Jewish children don’t go to Jewish educational institutions in the first place, more discipline will not solve the problem of low enrollment. Even if more discipline may be needed in the existing institutions, this will hardly help get more children into these schools.

Others therefore argue that the exact opposite is true. Judaism – and religious education – is plagued with a fear-driven approach, instead of one infused with love and sensitivity. Fear may work for the short term, but it does not imbue students with an internal commitment and yes, love for the tradition.

2)     Dogma vs. relevance

Religion is preached rather than taught. The perception is that religion is all about rules and rituals – logical or not – that must be accepted or else. Many feel programmed and imposed upon, reinforced by family, community and peer pressure that keeps people in line. Dogma also leads to condescension.

Religion often appears divorced from personal relevance, warm spirituality, psychological introspection and overall character refinement. Religious people are not necessarily seen as more sensitive, loving and caring. Which explains why 90% of Americans consider themselves somewhat spiritual, but only 40% identify with religion.

When you consider the millennia-old history of “religious” dominance and crusades imposing their authority on the masses, the distrust of religious dogma is quite understandable.

3)     Divisiveness vs. unity

Many people feel that religion creates divisiveness. True religion is all about creating unity in this universe. How then is it possible that religion be experienced as a divisive force? This too is a result of the profound distortion of religion appearing divorced of spirituality.

4)     Knowledge vs. tools

Are our children being taught facts and information? Or are they being empowered with methodology and tools to find happiness and meaning?

5)     Conformity vs. individuality

Does religious education help cultivate independence and self-actualization, or does it silence (or annihilate?) our individuality and induce conformity? Does it teach you to “rise on your own” or to always be dependent on others?

6)     Passivity vs. passion

For life to be lived to its fullest you need passion. For you to access your innermost resources, you need to feel driven and excited about your possibilities. Do our religious schools teach us how to find our passion, our mission – our vision of life?

This is just a beginning. I would deeply appreciate your comments and suggestions as to other issues and questions that can be added to this list. Together let us begin a revolution, by identifying the questions, analyzing the dilemma, and then inevitably we will begin to recognize the changes that are necessary to be made.

Provocation isn’t always wise. But when it comes to issues that desperately need attention and repair, to provoke is to evoke, to evoke a response and a will to create change.

The Hebrew word for education is “chinuch,” which means both “beginning” and “training.” Essentially, true education sets the tone for one’s entire life. How that beginning looks and what type of training we receive defines our entire life. The past is the past – and results are “in the pudding.” Look at your own life and you can trace its genesis to your education.

But how that beginning will look for our children and what type of training they will receive is not dependent on the past; it is up to us to create change and improve the entire standard of education.

Today, nothing less than a revolution is necessary in our education systems. The first step to initiate any change is: Awareness and the courage to confront our challenges.

A Moment of Truth

“When a person knows G-d in general terms he is called a servant — he obeys his master’s command, and does not have the right to search his hidden archives and house secrets; when one knows G-d in [intimate] detail he is called a son, his beloved, who can search the hidden archives, all the house secrets. And though he is called son. the eldest son of G-d…he still remains a servant, to serve his father in various ways which honor his father. Every person needs to be both a son to his father, to search the hidden and to know the house secrets, and a servant.” This week’s portion in Zohar (end of Behar, 111b)

A moment. Forever.

All special things, even eternal ones, happen in a moment. Most moments in our lives are fleeting, easily forgotten or never remembered in the first place. But magical moments – of love or loss, of joy or pain, of a secret revealed – live on.

It may take many moments, many years, even eons, to reach that one special moment. But the moment is still but a moment. And when it happens, you never forget it. The moment becomes a permanent part of you. Hopefully you hold on to it, but even when you don’t, it always remain etched in your being, waiting to be retrieved, in moment’s notice.

Etched in my mind forever is a single moment, which happened one year ago today, at precisely 5:17PM. Sunday, Iyar 20^th (corresponding to May 29^th).

I saw a life — a life that shaped me — end one leg of its journey, only to begin another leg. My limited perception, one that I share with many, could only see the first stage. One moment I saw my father’s soul manifest in his body. The next I did not.

What happened at 5:17Pm? I really don’t know. A soul that was just with us was no longer there. I tried hard looking. G-d did I try. But once the curtain closes, as much as we try, our eyes cannot see beyond.

One moment – alive, vibrant, electric; a personality that touched and changed many lives. The next moment – gone.

5:17PM the life force of my father — otherwise known as the soul — left us.

Or did it?

Does a soul live on in our lives, in our memories? Does the soul continue to thrive through the inspiration and words it leaves us, especially one who left mountains of writings?

Memories…

One of the first memories I have of my father is holding his hand walking up Nostrand Avenue on Shabbat morning on our way to Shul. I always felt comfortable around him. Always. Now I know why. It was because he always felt comfortable with himself. When you are at peace with yourself, you are at peace with everyone around you (even if you may radically disagree with another) and you comfort them in the process. When my father would speak about his father (my namesake) there was a very profound unspoken confidence. I now understand where my father derived his personality.

Ahh… healthy people. Complex, but smooth and seamless.

When my children were young, I would clutch their little hands as we walked, as my father did mine. I must confess that today I sometimes try to briefly hold the hand of my 22-year-old son, to his chagrin and embarrassment. Little does he know that I do it not for him but for me. It’s recreating my connection to my childhood, to my father.

The door of truth between the two worlds opens twice in our lives. Once in the beginning, once at the end.

Upon birth a channel opens, delivering a gift to this world: A newborn child. Where did the soul originate, where did this new life suddenly appear from? We cannot see. All we witness is the door opening.

Then, upon death (or better put: when the soul separates from the body) the door opens for the second time, returning the gift to its original place. What is that place like? I guess only souls know. And only when we become soulful can we know.

What wise words King Solomon wrote:

“The living shall take to heart.”

Take to heart not just the grief and sadness over loss – do we need the wise Solomon to tell us that our hearts cry when we lose a loved one? We take to heart and remember even after the door closes. Remember that we have limited perception. Even when we can’t see behind the door, never feel or think, even for one brief moment, that nothing is happening on the other side.

Take to heart…

In the second year [of the Exodus], on the 20th of the second month [Iyar], the cloud rose from the Tabernacle of Testimony. The Israelites thus began their travels… (Numbers 10:11)

5:17PM on the 20th of Iyar a cloud rose and returned to Heaven. A brief second became eternal.

* * *

The Samach-Vav Connection

What is truth?

Is it what we see, hear, taste, touch and smell? Is it what we feel, think, sense and intuit? Is it what we love, believe and trust? Or is it all or none of the above?

Truth, explains this week’s Samach-Vav, is seeing the true nature of existence, seeing beneath the surface, which conceals what lies within.

Revelation of truth consists of many levels, one deeper than the next:

First it recognizes that our existence is not self-contained; a Divine life force sustains it. This awareness is the first step to all truth. As long as you are consumed with the narcissistic feeling that “I am, and there is nothing beside me,” then your only “truth” will be subjective — driven by own needs and perceptions, no matter how distorted they may be. The light of objective truth enters your life when you realize that there is more to life than you and your myopic vision.

The next level of awareness is when you come to recognize that the concealment of the inner force is in itself a Divine energy. Its purpose being to allow us the opportunity to heal the rift, to reveal the invisible, and expose that which is concealed.

Beyond that is the awareness that Reality is not what we perceive it as: from the outside in. Rather it is “inside out.” We think that this — our universe, our feelings, our experiences — is “where it’s at,” and the world of spirit is somewhere “out there” (if at all). In truth, it’s the other way around: The Divine is “where it’s at,” true reality, and we are the novelty “out there.”

Finally, the ultimate state of awareness is when we recognize and reveal that the concealment itself is rooted in the hidden, undefined, Divine essence – infinitely higher than any form of defined revelation.

These are the mysteries of truth – the “hidden archives” and “all the house secrets” – that a son discovers. The hidden elements within the structure of existence and beyond the structure.

I tasted this truth when I closed my father’s eyes on May 29, 2005, Iyar 20 5765 at… 5:17PM.

There is something about order that mesmerizes us. It just feels comforting to see, for example, a complex system at work – an assembly line, a computer – millions of different parts, each doing their thing, all coordinated toward one end.

A beautiful musical composition or a masterful piece of art, a great book or a powerful information database structure (or at least its results), the eloquence of mathematics or the rhythm of business systems – touches us in a place that resonates. Perhaps our gravitation to mosaic-like harmony reflects the order that we so long for amidst an external sea of chaos. Perhaps it stems from the inherent unity within existence. Perhaps it manifests our craving to see what makes the world “tick.”

Just look at the wonder on the face of a child (or the inner child of an enchanted adult) taking apart a clock, studying the wheels, gears and springs in their intricate, interactive dance. (Not quite as easy to see in today’s digital clocks).

One could even say that all of life is about alignment – setting things straight, allowing our systems to breathe, ensuring that all the details of our lives are part of a “well-oiled” machine.

The ultimate system is of course our own bodies and the universe itself. No words can describe the wonder of nature; the fluency of so many different systems and species all working in synchronized harmony and balance.

***

One of the most eloquent systems ever devised is the Hebrew calendar. The months, weeks and days of the year are seen not as disjointed fragments in time linked merely by their proximity. They are all components of a flow of energy. Each segment – day, week, month – linked together in a chain, building a structure, telling the story of the vicissitudes of our lives, in all its richness and splendor, in all its challenges and mysteries.

When we “live with the time” – as Rabbi Schneur Zalman of Liadi once phrased it – we tap into the synchronized fluency of time and align ourselves accordingly.

This time of year – between Passover and Shavuot – is especially poetic.

Technically, Passover celebrates the Exodus from Egypt 3318 years ago. Following the Exodus, the Jewish people began to count the days in anticipation of their receiving the Torah 50 days later, on Shavuot. This transition period – connecting Passover to Shavuot – is known as the 49 days of the Omer. As we read in this week’s Torah portion:

“And you shall count for yourselves from the day after the Sabbath [second day of Passover], from the day on which you bring the omer offering [omer was a measure (around two quarts) of barley which the Jews brought as an offering on the second day of Passover], seven complete weeks shall there be; until the morrow of the seventh week you shall count fifty days, and you shall proclaim that very day a holy festival.” (Leviticus 23:15)

Even after the destruction of the Temple when we no longer bring the omer offering, the tradition of counting the omer continues.

That’s the technical calendar. Here’s the inner rhythm behind this calendar:

On Passover we celebrate transcendence – our ability to get beyond (pass over) all our inhibitions, fears and constraints, be they physical or psychological. Passover lifts us on its wings – the “wings of eagles” – and takes us to heaven.

However, every inspiration from above will just as quickly dissipate. The next stage requires integration: Personalizing the transcendent experience. We therefore count the 49 days of the Omer, each day reflecting on and refining another aspect of our emotional personality. Thus, we internalize the transcendent Passover experience.

This in turn prepares us to absorb the 50^th day – the Sinai experience, an even greater transcendent dimension, when we receive the Divine blueprint and power to fuse matter and spirit. We don’t count the 50^th day, but we cannot reach it unless we first count – refine and illuminate (“count” in Hebrew also means to shine and tell a story) – our 49 (7×7) personality features.

These three stages – Passover transcendence; 40 Omer days of personal refinement; Sinai revelation – are also reflected in the sequence of these three consecutive months:

Nissan is month one of the lunar calendar (chesed), symbolizing the transcendent unity that is rooted in the Divine. Iyar is month two (gevurah), reflecting the duality of the Divine inspiration that comes from above and the work that is required on our part below to integrate the transcendent experience. Sivan is month three (tiferet) – the synthesis of both previous dimensions.

In Kabbalistic/Chassidic terms – as explained in the Samach-Vav discourse delivered 100 years ago this week:

Every person, generally speaking, has two aspects to their lives; two voices: 1) The spiritual voice – our transcendent and sublime experiences, 2) The material voice – the one that is immersed in the struggle and needs for survival (eating, sleeping, work), and the pursuits of physical pleasures.

A harmonious – if I may say, eloquent – life consists of addressing both dimensions: Allowing your soul to express its spiritual yearnings, and sublimating your material involvements in higher purpose.

These two paths, are reflected, as discussed in a previous segment of the Samach-Vav series, in two types of service, or more generally – two types of souls:

1) Souls of the world of Atzilut, whose primary nature, even as they live in bodies in this material world, is spiritual. These unique individuals – like Moses – are completely selfless, and their service consists of revealing the absolute nullification of their souls in face of the Divine. These souls are compared to “sons” who have access to the “most intimate chambers and secrets of their father’s home.”

2) Souls of the worlds of B”iya (Beriah, Yetzirah, Asiya), whose primary nature is material, and their service consists of the hard work to sublimate the “egocentric” personality of matter. These souls are compared to “servants,” who are strangers in the palace, and their access is not by virtue of their “genes” but by their hard work and dedication.

More specifically, each of us has subtle elements of both souls, and times when one type of experience is more dominant than the other.

The transcendent (Passover) experience is a revelation from the Divine world of Atzilut. The counting of the omer is the work of refining the materially driven “animal” within (the omer was of barley, which serves mainly as animal feed) – the emotional drives and desires, which are comprised of 7×7 (49) dimensions (for a breakdown of each one, click here). This work internalizes, each according to his/her level, the spiritual, and prepares us for The Sinai revelation, which combines both transcendence and integration.

This Samach-vav explains the inner meaning of the mitzvah (in this week’s portion):

“And you shall count for yourselves from the day after the Sabbath, seven complete weeks shall there be.”

The Hebrew word used here for “count” is “v’sefartem,” which also means “to illuminate,” “to glow.” This refers to the luminous spirituality of the ten Sefirot of the world of Atzilut.

The verse then continues: “V’sefartem lochem,” “Illuminate – for yourselves,” a seemingly superfluous word (what would be missing without this word?) – to tell us that the luminous Sefirot of Atzilut have to be drawn down and illuminate “to yourselves” in your material involvements (in the worlds of biy”a). And this light gives you the power to refine your emotions, drives and desires.

“From the day after the Sabbath” refers to the level of Chachma, the highest point in Atzilut. And “seven complete weeks” is the Divine light that is higher than Atzilut – telling us that the counting (illuminating) of the omer accesses the highest levels of the Atzilut and beyond, reaching into:

“[The] most intimate chambers and secrets of their father’s home.”

The reason being because Atzilut is a reflection of the hidden Divine light of higher levels, and serves as an “interface” between the Divine and the human, as discussed in previous articles.

***

Much has been said about living a life of purpose, a meaningful life (you know where you heard that before…), a happy and healthy life, and a fulfilling one.

Here is a blessing of yet another dimension: May you live an eloquent life. Filled with poetry and music. Recognizing the shades and fluctuations of your life as nuances of one beautiful tapestry – one that carries may mysteries, hidden even from us.

As my family and I mark the first yahrzeit of our beloved father, the eminent journalist, Gershon Jacobson – a storyteller par excellence: his articles addressed the inner, hidden script that lay beneath the stories of the day – please accept my blessings for many healthy, happy, meaningful – and eloquent – years.

To live an eloquent life. Ahh, what a dream.

Where Form Meets Function

— Samach-Vav Part 14 —

“You shall be holy, for I, the Lord your G-d, am holy” – this week’s Torah portion (Leviticus 19:2)

We are all servants. Some of us serve ourselves; others serve a higher purpose. Most of us compartmentalize and our lives become a mix of the two. But can we really be satisfied with this sort of compromise?

Paradoxically, the happiest people are those that are not consumed with serving their own needs, but are dedicated to a higher cause. In the words of John Stuart Mill:

“Ask yourself whether you are happy, and you cease to be so. Those only are happy who have their minds fixed on some object other than their own happiness; on the happiness of others, on the improvement of mankind, even on some art or pursuit, followed not as a means, but as itself an ideal end. Aiming thus at something else, they find happiness by the way.”

This is the central theme of the Book of Leviticus, known as the Book of Offerings, which we are currently reading:

“A person will offer of himself an offering to G-d.”

As we continue reading Leviticus, each progressive chapter teaches us how to grow in offering ourselves to our higher purpose.

Following the earlier chapters which discuss the general offering of our souls and bodies, this week’s chapter intensifies our service with the commandment:

“You shall be holy, for I, the Lord your G-d, am holy.”

Do not be deceived by the simplicity of the statement. Had the verse only stated “be holy” and not added the reason (“for I, G-d, am holy”) then the commandment could be understood as another aspect of serving G-d. But by equating our holiness to G-d’s holiness the verse is actually saying that we mortal humans can become like G-d. To the extent that the Midrash has to qualify that G-d’s holiness is greater than our own (see G-d’s Vulnerability).

Indeed, Judaism never was satisfied with the mere spiritual journey. For many, it would be considered quite an achievement to be able to transcend the mediocrity of material existence and experience even a minimal state of psychological and spiritual freedom. But for the great Jewish leaders – beginning from Abraham and Moses – transcendence was not enough. They wanted a relationship with G-d; not just the ability to speak to G-d, but a relationship as in relating to G-d.

After all if You, G-d created us, then we have (contain) a “part” of You within us, and You have a part of us within You.

Take Moses’ memorable words, crying from the heart: Please G-d, “allow me to know Your ways,” “show me Your Glory.” Moses wants to see G-d’s face, and G-d complies, with a qualification.

But the big question is how? We humans are mortals, finite, limited – weak. G-d is immortal, infinite, eternal, omnipresent – all-powerful. We are creatures; G-d the Creator. How can the two meet?

Yes, we can serve G-d. We can obey Him, offer Him prayers and praise and look to Him for hope and salvation. But how can we unite with Him?

The entire Kabbalah comes to answer this very question. For in it lies the secret to life – the single greatest dilemma: How high can we reach? How eternal can we temporal creatures become? Do our choices matter in the long run; if we all perish at the end of the day, how invested should we really be in our choices?

Half-baked measures were simply not enough for the great spirits. They didn’t want to accept a limited relationship with the Divine. They refused to compromise and see their relationship with G-d as a one-way street: We serve G-d and G-d provides for us. That sounds great, but then why the need for the entire process in the first place? What Divine benefit is there in serving G-d? Yes, once we exist serving G-d may be the most redeeming factor of our lives – the only one that can connect us to the eternal – but why have us exist at all? If there was no creation and no service, what would be missing? And finally, there are many people out there that can serve G-d; what is unique about any individual’s service? We want to know that we are truly indispensable. That our individuality – our unique personality – has a relationship with and become like G-d.

This dilemma consumes every page of Kabbalah and Chassidus. It is therefore obvious that this theme is central to Samach-Vav – the masterful series of discourses delivered one hundred years ago (1906) – which codifies all of Chassidus and Kabbalah. Indeed, its author, the Rebbe Rashab, is known as the “Rambam of Chassidut.” Like the Rambam (Maimonides) the Rebbe Rashab organized the multitude of mystical discourses into one accessible structured text. No where is this more obvious than in the 61 sequential discourses of the year Samach-Vav.

In his flowing work, the Rebbe Rashab explains at length how we mortal humans can become like G-d – as has been elaborated upon in this column throughout the year. (The entire series of articles, plus a running summary and related commentaries, can be found in our special Samach-Vav section).

Basically, Samach-Vav tells us, that everything in existence has a Divine imprint. G-d imparted elements of the Divine “personality” in every aspect of the universe.

The entire purpose of existence is that we uncover this Divine force; that we transform the material world into a home for the Divine, and draw down new unprecedented energy that expresses “the innermost aspect and essence of the Infinite Light” – the essence of the Divine.

We achieve this by appreciating that everything in existence has two dimensions: Light and container – energy and structure. Both reflect the Divine but in different ways: The light (soul) reflects the transcendent dimension of the Divine – the selflessness, sublime and defiance of all definition. The container (body) reflects the Divine structure – how the Divine manifests in structure and form.

And the Divine nature of both light and container must be tapped and actualized to their fullest potential. The way of the “light” accesses the Divine energy within our souls and within all of existence. The way of the “container” transforms matter into spirit through our hard work.

Each of us has two dimensions in our lives: Our involvement in the material world, and our transcendental, spiritual yearnings. In one word: the body and the soul. Being G-dly means allowing your soul to shine (light) and sanctifying your body and material activities (containers).

More generally, this breaks down into two types of souls: Those who feel close to G-d, like children to a parent, and those that don’t, like servants to a master. Each type of soul has both lights and containers, yet the former souls are more “light-like” and the latter ones more “container-like.”

In the discourses we study these weeks (19-26), the Rebbe Rashab explains how the first type of soul accesses the Divine, and becomes like G-d, both through the light and container (soul and the body). Following the discussion about the first type of soul, Samach-Vav then continues to address the second type of soul, whose primary nature is material, and its’ service consists of the hard work to sublimate the “egocentric” personality of matter.

In personal terms this means that not only your soul but also your body and the material structure of your life can be sanctified and become G-dlike. The total fusion of form and function in a “spiritual union” is necessary for a balanced, wholesome life

(as discussed last week).

There are many far-reaching lessons that can be derived from this principle. For example: Two elements are necessary in the creation of every business, and the design of every product: Form and function. Both are vital components, and each has its own way of expressing truth. Function at its best should be like light, which reflects its source – the vision and purpose of the object. Form at its best represents the structure – the market, the audience that will benefit from the object. The key is to align the two in one seamless unit, which fuses the function and the form, the purpose and its expression.

On a practical note, after all is said and done, can we actually expect that ordinary people should serve only a higher purpose and not our own needs? Based on the above discussion the answer is both surprising and refreshing:

The structured “containers” have needs, the selfless “lights” do not; they are mere reflections of their source. But the needs of the “containers” are Divine in nature. With one crucial qualification: The objective is not to be fixated on satisfying the needs of the “containers” as an end in itself, but to recognize that these needs are also an extension of satisfying the higher, Divine purpose. In other words: To appreciate that the “containers” are just that – vehicles to express the Divine light.

So, in truth we really have only two choices in life: To serve yourself or to serve G-d. To serve your immediate perceived needs or to serve a higher purpose – the mission of your life.

And when you do, your needs will be fulfilled, and happiness will follow.

As the wise one says: I don’t sing because I am happy; I am happy because I sing.