Yitro: On the Nature of Leadership & the Art of Delegation

January 23rd, 2003

Shlichus: The Rebbe’s Brilliant New Approach

~ In honor of Yud Shvat, 53 (gan) years since the Rebbe assumed leadership and the Annual International Shluchos Conference this weekend, 22 Shvat, the 15^th yahrzeit of the Rebbetzin Chaya Mushka ~

The central theme of this week’s Torah portion (Yitro) is about the most momentous event in history: The Revelation at Sinai. Yet, preceding this we read about a lesser known event: Yisro’s advice to his son-in-law Moses.

When Yisro witnesses the large number of people waiting all day to see Moses, he suggests that Moses delegate responsibility and appoint others to help him address the people’s needs. The Torah dedicates an entire section telling us about Yisro’s piece of advice, and how Moses accepts it, with G-d’s consent.

What was so brilliant about Yisro’s delegation idea that the Torah finds it so important to document? Delegation is a basic logical concept; couldn’t Moses have thought of it on his own? When many people need advice and there is only that much limited time, delegation is the obvious solution. You allocate and assign different parts of the job to a variety of people in order to get a larger job done. So why is Yisro credited with this new innovation – and the Torah makes a whole fuss about it – something that any simple person could have thought of?!

Furthermore, Yisro’s advice is related to us right before the Revelation at Sinai. Why is delegation so important to have it immediately precede Mattan Torah (the giving of Torah)? Commentaries explain (see Rashi and others) that this incident actually took place the day after Yom Kippur, when Moses returns with the Second Tablets after spending 120 days on the mountain. But this only amplifies the question: Since Yisro’s advice comes only 120 days after Sinai, why does the Torah feel it necessary to place here, right before the Sinai experience?

These questions have always bothered me. Searching through commentaries as well as asking teachers and scholars has not yielded an adequate response, until I recently discovered the answer in an unlikely place, right under my nose.

Many of you may know me as the author of Toward A Meaningful Life, a book based on the wisdom and teachings of the Rebbe (the Lubavitcher Rebbe that is), for whom I had the privilege to work for over 14 years documenting and publishing his public talks, many of which had to be reconstructed from memory. Growing up around the Rebbe I was always mystified by the way the Rebbe established his infrastructure.

The Rebbe’s objective – actually, the objective of the entire Chabad Lubavitch movement, as established by Rabbi Schneur Zalman of Liadi and perpetuated by the Rebbes after him – is very clear:

Yofutzu Mayonosech Chutza is the mission statement declared by the founder of Chassidus, the Baal Shem Tov. Yofutzu Mayonosech Chutza means: Spreading the wellsprings [of Torah, i.e. the inner dimension of Torah] outward, which will create a spiritual awakening that will transform the world into a home for G-d and usher in the Messianic age of spiritual awareness, when “the world will be filled with Divine knowledge as the waters cover the sea.”

To achieve this goal – to disseminate the message and revive the larger community – the Rebbe created a broad network called shlichus—sending out hundreds of young emissaries over the world to establish and build community centers that serve the Jewish and spiritual needs of the local population.

At first glance, the way the Rebbe established the shlichus system seemed somewhat haphazard (if I may use that word, kavyochol). The Rebbe inspired young couples to pick themselves up, leave their families and hometowns, and settle in an unknown city where they initially had no financial backing or support, and build a community from scratch! In most cases the new shluchim were given no resources – no seed money, no building, no position – except the mission to build!

Young couples, mostly untrained in administration, fundraising and project development, were suddenly charged with the responsibility to raise money, establish community connections, develop public relations, construct buildings, create educational programs for young and old  – do all that is necessary to form a beachhead to serve all the spiritual, and religious needs of the community.

As the years passed, beginning from 1950 when the Rebbe assumed leadership of the movement, the shlichus network grew and expanded far and wide. And in each instance, the Rebbe’s method remained the same: Each shliach (emissary) was expected to build with little or no resources.

The question is: How did the Rebbe expect to maintain quality control over such a wide network? It’s one thing when there is one shliach (or a handful), but not when there are hundreds and even thousands of emissaries all over the world, each faced with respective challenges of their country, city and community.

By contrast, all corporate, government and other institutions with national and international branches and networks all have complex and elaborate quality control systems. There is a hierarchy – beginning with a CEO or executive director, who directs a group of national directors, who oversee local directors, etc. Each director ensures the operation and accountability of his/her respective branch. There are comptrollers and treasurers, bookkeepers and accountants, lawyers, presidents, chairmen and boards, there are timely spot checks, vigilant reviews, elaborate audits and reporting systems – an entire labyrinth with a comprehensive set of checks and balances, to ensure that the objective is being met. And even with all this in place – we see what it has led to in our current corporate meltdown…

Just look at the thousands of pages that have been written on business administration and institutional infrastructures.

And here, when it comes to the shlichus network, we find no systems that the Rebbe put in place to ensure quality control. The Rebbe simply inspired his students to go out there and… create a revolution to transform the world with G-dliness. He left it up to each shliach to figure out how to do it technically, legally and financially!

Each Chabad emissary has his own budget, own board of trustees, own staff and buildings – with no legal and financial binding to anyone else. The Rebbe did not ask that each Chabad house be signed over as the property of ‘central headquarters,’ not even as co-owners, not even as ONE member on the board of trustees.

Obviously, shluchim all felt accountable to the Rebbe and would report to him on a timely basis. But this did not constitute legal and financial control and obligations (see the Rebbe’s letter cited below). The Rebbe could have easily required each shliach to bind his institution legally and financially to some central center, and every one would have absolutely and readily complied. Yet, he chose not to do that.

The question is: why? With such decentralization how did the Rebbe foresee quality control being maintained?

What would happen if G-d forbid one of his emissaries did not live up to his standards? What happens when there is disagreement – an inevitable reality – between emissaries? How is it to be resolved? And why did the Rebbe not intervene in instances of blatant disagreements that even became public embarrassments? He could have easily stepped in to help resolve the issues.

I always wondered about these issues, as I am sure others have too. Though I have absolute confidence in the Rebbe and know that his approach was all calculated and well thought through, yet I was interested in the logic behind it. I knew there was something very profound about the way the Rebbe set up shlichus and the method he employed – a model that perhaps could be applied to other areas of life.

Only in the last years can we truly appreciate the sheer genius of the Rebbe’s decentralization approach. And in effect, also understand the brilliance of Yisro’s suggestion – an approach that can be developed into a method for parents, educators, and even business leaders how to motivate and delegate, how to build and create a wide network while maintaining the highest level of integrity. This may even serve as a model for future leadership, and perhaps offer a new business model for the future.

The key in understanding this novel approach is to recognize the true nature of spirituality vs. materialism. Spirituality is driven by the dedication (bittul) to a higher cause; material success is driven by personal and selfish gain. To motivate someone in an arbitrary, materially oriented and self-generated system you have to offer material incentives, and define strong guidelines to maintain control, lest individual interests compromise the mission and conflict with each other. Empowering individuals in a materialistic institution is always a risky proposition that must be done with great care, and is generally valuable only to produce results, but the empowerment itself can cause management many problems (case in point: unions). Eliminating hierarchies and offering equality to all employees is anathema to any organized institution. A chain of command is critical and necessary for success.

However, in a spiritual system, which is driven by a higher cause and everyone involved is there only because of their dedication to the cause, the key is to define the exact parameters of the objective, but once you do, individual empowerment is optimal, and yes, there is a fundamental equality among all the leaders and teachers.

Interestingly, the basis for this approach lies in the Rebbe’s own words, delivered in his first formal talk after assuming leadership of the movement in 1951 (10 Shevat 5711). Following the formal discourse that he delivered (the maamar Basi L’Gani), the Rebbe began with these words:

“Now, listen Jews! In general Chabad demands that one has to independently accomplish. Not to depend on the Rebbes… I do not decline from helping, G-d forbid. Helping as much as possible. But everything is in the hands of Heaven besides fear of Heaven. Accordingly, if one does not do on his own – what will help that one offers writings, sings songs, says l’chaim. The Rebbe would sometimes say: Leigt zich niht kayn foigelech in buzim [don’t deceive yourself]. Each person on his own has to transform the… passion of the animal soul into holiness.”

Leigt zich niht kayn foigelech in buzim – an extraordinary expression, yet completely understood. The Rebbe is saying that one may have the temptation to depend on the Rebbe. No, don’t deceive yourself into thinking that the Rebbe will do the job for you. You must do it on your own. And the Rebbe will help the one that helps himself. In his first formal talk the Rebbe laid down the foundation – which would be the theme of his entire leadership:  Avodah b’koach atzmo. You have to independently achieve on your own.

The challenge any company has is to motivate employees. The usual method is through pay, bonuses and other perks and incentives. Why are these incentives needed, because the employee is a hired gun and has no self-generated interest in the cause of the business or organization. So you compensate him in order to earn some of his loyalty and dedication. In other business models employees are given stock options, or even partial ownership – partners – yet another motivational tool.

Why not make employees owners? First, because the owner wants the bulk of the profit. Second, that would make quality control a nightmare. You must have leadership from the top.

What the Rebbe did was take the exact opposite approach: He insisted that the building of Chabad institutions be inherently independent. Not like employees hired from NY central headquarters, but each shliach on his own raises the funds, takes out mortgages, goes through all the pains and challenges of building something form scratch. Essentially, Chabad is a franchise. It is a myth to believe that Chabad has one single $500 million annual budget; each Chabad shliach is solely responsible for his area. Avodah b’koach atzmo.

But what about quality control? What prevents these individuals from going off on their own (obviously financial profit is a non-issue here: The Rebbe was not interested in financial gain!).

And here is the brilliance. The title shliach combines two opposite qualities: a bar daas, an independent thinking person (he cannot be your child or servant), he must be independent. And as an independent individual he chooses at his own volition to sublimate himself to the meshalayach (the sender/messenger) and remains dedicated to the messenger and his mission. Should he change the instructions of the sender, then he automatically has disqualified himself from his mission.

How is this quality control to be maintained? The Rebbe did not appoint a committee of overseers, indeed the Rebbe himself trusted that the shluchim would follow the mission. The Rebbe understood very well that all humans are fallible, and that is precisely why he didn’t want anyone to exercise a monopoly of control. Because who then can be trusted with the yiras shomayim necessary. Would anyone venture to appoint and designate one shliach and say – ahh, here is the yira shomayim that is more devout than others and can be trusted more than others? It is quite dangerous territory to begin judging each person’s fear of G-d and determining if someone has defied the original messenger’s mission… (if an instance like this does arise, the Rebbe’s clear directive is to direct the issue to competent Rabbis, see below).

Can you say that you trust one emissary more than another? If one shliach needs another to oversee him, then who oversees the overseer? (Obviously we’re not talking about an employee of a shliach who is paid a salary for a particular job, but about someone who has built an institution with a board of trustees, and solely carries the financial burden and responsibility of budget, etc.).

This explains why the Rebbe did not appoint a hierarchy of leaders, “leaders of thousands, leaders of hundreds, leaders of fifties and leaders of tens” as Yisro suggested. Because Yisro was addressing the appointment of judges, with the strict criteria that was only possible with Moses’ ruach hakodesh (Divine vision), to ‘seek out G-d fearing men, men of truth, who hate injustice.”[1] The Rebbe however charged every one with the mission of becoming a shliach, regardless of one’s level[2]. And did not make such conditions, and therefore did not appoint a controlling hierarchy.[3]

No, The Rebbe in his brilliance inspired all his students, and instilled in them the will and the spiritual commitment to maintain his standards, Torah standards, halachik standards. Of course everyone can fail, everyone can err – and many have, from shluchim who were first to arrive in their area and state to those working for them; but the proof is in the pudding: 53 years of shlichus has proven that the Rebbe’s method works.

This does not mean that a shliach has no accountability, G-d forbid. He has direct accountability to the Rebbe himself, to Torah – to G-d. No one is perfect. And in order to protect against human error, the Rebbe trained his Chassidim to know that they have to answer for every move they make – they must consult Torah, Shulchan Aruch and competent Rabbis. They each need to fulfill the directive “Provide for yourself a teacher” (Avot 1:6), consulting a senior Chassid and the likes. In addition, the Rebbe designated a loose umbrella that would coordinate shlichus activities and provide a platform where shluchim could interact, benefit and strengthen each other (“each will help his neighbor, and tell his brother: be strong”) – but all in an advisory role.

And fascinatingly, although the Rebbe does not have the legal control and power of a CEO and corporate head over his branches and employees, the connection and allegiance of a shliach to the Rebbe is deeper and more absolute than that of any employee to a corporation!  The profound connection is precisely because it is not driven by pay, bonuses of a hired gun, but by total loving dedication to the Rebbe’s mission, in a way that has become integrated and one with the avodah b’koach atzmo of the shliach!

And from this we learn the secret of Yisro’s’ suggestion: The brilliance was not in the delegation per se, but in maintaining quality control through the process.

When Yisro asks Moses why he is doing the job alone, Moses replies: “The people come to me to seek G-d.” Moses understood delegation; his concern was quality control: Moses in his humility knew that the people were coming to him because G-d had chosen him to be their leader and teacher. He didn’t see how that job could be delegated. Others simply were not men of G-d as Moses was, and were not trusted as Moses was.

Yisro does not deny that. He acknowledges to Moses that “You must be G-d’s representative for the people and bring their concerns to G-d…” Nevertheless, Yisro says, you must and can seek out trustworthy people – “capable…G-d fearing…truthful…who hate injustice (or monetary gain)” – and appoint them to administer justice for the people (18:19-21).

This advice – with G-d’s concurrence– will ensure the survival of Moses and the entire nation, this delegation will allow the nation to “attain its goal of peace” (18:23).

Yisro’s advice was unique in that he showed Moses how he could delegate while maintaining the integrity of the original, with no compromise. And the secret of doing so is by infusing in the delegation a spiritual standard of integrity that will always keep the delegatee or shliach on course. Should he waver from the initial mission and its spirit, his position would inevitably and automatically be lost.

Obviously, one has to qualify the use of Yisro’s advice in regard to other delegation models, because Yisro was addressing the establishments of the judicial system, the appointment of judges that administrate law, with all the strong criteria necessary for such positions. Yet, many lessons can be derived from Yisro’s delegation system and applied to models for life today.

Why did this advice come specifically from Yisro, and not directly from G-d or Moses?  (see Akeidah, Abarbanel, Shach on this portion). Torah was given in order to transform the universe. Yisro was a man of the world. Indeed, he was a sheik who had mastered all the philosophies and religions of the world. It is therefore specifically Yisro who advises on how to establish the delegation system in a way that can help change the world from the bottom up. From Moses birds’ eye perspective he knew that his role was to pass on the word of G-d. It is Yisro, man of the world, master of the secular sciences, who defines the way the word of G-d can be disseminated in the most efficient manner, without compromising its integrity.[4]

Only after Yisro’s suggestion was offered and accepted, do we read about the giving of the Torah – a Torah that would have to survive all challenges, over generations, communities, expulsions and genocides. How does Torah maintain its integrity (quality control) throughout all its journeys through history?

Not through communist methods of mind control, or bureaucracies etc. But by passing on the nature of truth and trusting that people will maintain it. The Torah is not a ‘business,’ driven by personal profit and arbitrary standards. Torah is truth. It is Divine. Divine truth has a built in immune system – if someone wavers from it, he automatically disqualifies himself from representing Torah. As 3314 years of history has proven that those that wavered from the essential mission statement of Sinai and its divine nature – ultimately disqualified themselves and are no longer on the map.

There was no need for appointing oversight committees and departments of ‘truth and information.’ Whenever you hear of such a department, rest assured: it is neither true nor information! The truth of Torah is not like the goals of a business which has no inherent truth built in; a business is driven by selling product – good or bad, an entirely arbitrary venture, which therefore needs incentives – financial and other – to keep everyone motivated. The Torah is not an arbitrary force; it is a divine blueprint for life – absolute truth, with the complete confidence in the Divine Image ingrained in each human being that s/he will embrace its message (if presented properly, communicated from the heart).

If there are questions and disagreements, the Torah itself has set up a system of checks and balances, called Rabbinic courts, whose job it is to provide direction and legal clarity and help people objectively see the inner truth of Torah. “Judge the community…and protect them” (Numbers 35:24-25).

Even the Rebbe himself never intervened in local conflicts, as he writes in a letter (20 Kislev 5745): “…it is well known that the various Chabad institutions are financially completely independent of our central office. This is also an obvious necessity in view of the fact that there are hundreds of such institutions the world over, and it would be impossible to direct them all from headquarters.” In a note dated 7 Elul 5747 the Rebbe writes (translated from Hebrew): “Lubavitch exists some 200 years, and many issues have been established like ‘nails’ [i.e. etched in stone],’ (and many of them – as per Shulchan Aruch), and among them – that every institution needs to be directed [or governed] by the administration [management] on location (physically and spiritually) in action…”

In case of disagreements, the Rebbe writes (in a letter dated 3 Tevet 5740): “…I have stated clearly and many times that according to Shulchan Aruch when one person has complaints against another the issue should be judged [considered] in a meeting of ‘hanhalas Anash’ on location [the leaders of the local community]. If they do not decide or the person does not carry out the decision etc. – they should then approach the Rabbis of Anash to render a legal ruling. If necessary the ruling should be in writing…”

If the Rebbe writes this about himself, how much more so regarding his shluchim, who clearly were not given more power than the Rebbe himself! The concept of “shliach oseh shliach,” where one emissary has the power to appoint another emissary does not make the emissary stronger than the messenger himself. Additionally, an emissary appointed by an emissary becomes a representative of the original messenger (not of his emissary), and he is “considered as if he is the [first] person who appointed him,” and has the power in turn to appoint new emissaries. The emissary’s power to appoint an emissary is not because he has any power of his own; it is due only by virtue of the fact that appointing new emissaries is part of the mission he was given.

Indeed, Torah is just like life itself. G-d created independent human beings with free will. He gave them a Torah that instructs us how to live our lives. Yet, once humans have free will there is always the risk that we may not follow the Divine guidelines. What did – does – G-d do about that? He did not create overseeing committees, thought police and communist dictators (those ‘creatures’ were created by people themselves); G-d trusted human beings. Yes, let me repeat that: He TRUSTS us. He BELIEVES in us. He trusts that the Divine Image within each human being will surface, and that we will ultimately live up to His expectations of us.

Of course, every human can fail, fall and err. There are therefore many laws, guidelines and suggestions in the Torah how to discipline and control ourselves – a system of checks and balances. There is of course also the need for justice and law enforcement. But above all, G-d trusts us, and it is that trust that we must live up to. Because ultimately there are no laws that can completely control human actions.

For us to be transformed we must have within ourselves the power to connect to G-d; it cannot be driven by dogma and imposed on us by dictators. It has to be embraced with love – maclhuso b’rotozon kiblu aleihem, you willingly accept G-d’s sovereignty over you.

And this is the Rebbe’s brilliance in the establishment of shlichus. Chabad equals Torah which equals life. Chabad is not a business, it is a Torah movement. Torah is not a business – it is the way of life, the way G-d instructs us how best to live our lives and fulfill our calling. Torah is “our life and our sustenance.” As such, Chabad is structured just like Torah is structured and just like G-d structured life:

Independent entities who willingly and lovingly accept the mission that were charged with – to follow the Torah, and willingly build institutions, schools, synagogues, social centers to disseminate Torah and Mitzvot and transform the world into a home for G-d. And precisely because their own initiative is invested in the cause – avodah b’koach atzmo – it therefore has the power to perpetuate forever.

Which answers the question many people ask: How is Lubavitch maintained after Gimmel Tammuz, when the Rebbe is physically not here with us? And not only maintained, but it continues to grow! The answer is both simple and profound:

Lubavitch is not a business which cannot be sustained without a CEO. Lubavitch is a Torah movement. It is part of the Divine perpetuation of Torah. The Rebbe trained and inspired people to become leaders. They are not dependent little children – or employees – waiting for instructions from the chairman, president or CEO of a company. The Rebbe – and the Rebbes before him – in his multitude of Torah teachings and writings (based on the Torah teachings of all the generations before him going back to Moses at Sinai) has defined a comprehensive philosophy that addresses all the issues of life today. His Chassidim and shluchim continuously consult these teachings to direct them in how best to fulfill their mission in life.

This unique combination of both total dedication and total independence – an independence which has chosen to be utterly and totally dedicated to the cause – is the secret of Chabad-Lubavitch, and its power of perpetuity.

Indeed this is the secret of the eternity of Torah – a secret that began with Yisro’s initiative 3314 years ago.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The issues addressed in this article are obviously complex and far reaching. I would appreciate receiving feedback, comments and any other insights that readers may have. I especially invite anyone that may have some more facts that would illuminate the Rebbe’s position on these matters. Of course all facts have to live up the Rebbe’s own criteria, namely: “…It is well known that my responses are in my own handwriting (or I say them publicly at a farbrengen)” – letter dated 3 Tevet 5740. “If anyone speaks in my name, it must be in my writing or something that I stated publicly at a Farbrengen” – Sichat Parshat Meshpotim 5747.

Tags: Rebbe, Moses, accountability, chabad, unity, spiritual and material, leader
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Beshalach: On Faith & Trust

January 16th, 2003

Think Good and It Will be Good,

How Your Attitude can Change Your Life

Due to the strong response to last week’s article, The Anatomy of Fear, let us continue with this theme, and see where it takes us.

The entire story of the Egyptian exile and exodus in these weekly Torah portions is about fear and courage, about anxiety and faith. Our essential beliefs are most challenged – and crystallized – when faced with darkness.

In the first chapter of Exodus, after G-d charges Moses with the mission to redeem the Jewish people from Egyptian bondage, Moses argues “But they will not believe me” (Shemot 4:1). By contrast, after the parting of the sea and the demise of the Egyptians at the conclusion of the Exodus, the Torah tells us in this week’s Torah portion (14:31): “They believed in G-d and in His servant Moses.”

Ever sensitive to the nature of suffering people and to their miserable plight, Moses understood the great challenge that pain poses to faith and hope. He anticipated their inability to see ahead, to believe the promises, to even listen to a message of hope. As it turned out: “They could not listen to Moses because of their broken spirit and hard work” (6:9).

However, the suffering of the people strengthened them. “The more they were oppressed, the more they proliferated and spread” (1:14). Their faith was tested – and grew. The more they endured, the stronger their faith became.

Indeed, our sages tell us that the people were actually redeemed in the merit of their faith.

What is the secret of this faith? “Rozo d’mehemnusa.” How does one build such faith? In light of our own challenges today, as we face our own demons – inner and outer – what can we, you and I, do to bolster our spirits and vanquish our fears? What can we learn from our ancestors who discovered freedom, perpetual and eternal freedom, through their faith and hope in the belly of the Egyptian beast?

The key to the secret of faith is the connection to the eternal. Everything in life around us is mortal, temporary – impermanent. Everything erodes, ages. Change is the only constant. This is true even when life is going well; how much more so under duress, which shakes the very foundations of our beings. The only way we can transcend change – and especially the ever-shifting center of gravity resulting from the painful scars of oppression – is by connecting to the eternal, something that is not subject to the mortality and variations around us.

The only way the enslaved people in Egypt could rise above their predicament and prevent demoralization was through faith. Their faith in G-d and His promises of redemption allowed them to hold on, to hold strong, to endure all, despite the hardships. They were sure – absolutely sure that they would come out of the hell, and nothing could shake this conviction.

The profound faith of the Jewish people in Egypt – which emerged under enormous pressure – revealed the deepest dimensions of the human spirit and the power of faith.

In fact, faith is actually the beginning of an extensive journey into the mystery of hope and confidence.

Beyond faith (‘emunah’ in Hebrew) there is trust (‘betachon’). Faith alone can be a passive state: one believes that G-d can change an impossible situation for the better. Trust is not just that things can get better, but that they will get better.

Trust is not just being at peace with any given situation because you trust in G-d and His plan. Trust is actually the certainty that you can change destiny. In the words of the Tzemach Tzedek to someone in need lf healing: “Think good and it will be good.” Not just “think good” period. Not merely positive thinking. But that by thinking good “it will be good.”

Trust is the absolute conviction that goodness will prevail, and that we have the power to make it happen. This conviction comes from the innermost recesses of our soul that is connected to the eternal.

“Think good and it will be good” also implies that trust is an active effort. It’s not like you either have it or you don’t. Trust takes work and cultivation. We are obligated and given the opportunity to work on ourselves and discover in the depths of our soul the power of trust. And this exertion in turn, actually has the power to change the course of events – ‘think good and it will be good.”

Yes, we are empowered to be partners with G-d. Our attitudes can change the way things will turn out.

When the Jews find themselves stuck between the pursuing Egyptians behind them and the Red Sea before them, and are confused as what to do next, G-d tells Moses: “V’yisou,” “Forge ahead.” Don’t just think about it. Do it.  And when they did, the sea parted before them…

With all the uncertainty surrounding us today, with all the losses that we are experiencing, with all the dysfunctionality of our generation, with all the scars that each of us carries — we have been given solutions to face every challenge. “In G-d we trust” – the words engraved on the mighty American dollar – resonates today more than ever.

Trust is tool, a resource, a faculty of the soul. But it needs our work to uncover its power. And when we do, it can mean the difference between life and death. As Nachshon ben Aminodov demonstrated with his resolute walk into the water. He was the first to move, and as he did the sea split.

So, start moving!

Tags: Moses, faith, trust, change, Egyptian slavery, miracles
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Vaeirah: Kabbalah of Kabbalah

January 2nd, 2003

Kabbalah’s Biblical Roots in the Torah Portion of Vaeirah

Some skeptics ask: Where in the Torah – in the written Torah that is – is there reference made to the spiritual, the mystical?

A very devout Rabbi once actually criticized me for using the word ‘spiritual’ in my talks and writings. “Spiritual,” he suggested “is a foreign concept to Judaism.” “Why are you allowing Torah teachings to be contaminated by new age ideas, by this… by thissss, spiritual thing?!” he stammered, barely able to utter the word ‘spiritual’ from his mouth, as if it were an anathema.

Others have suggested that too many teachers today have gotten caught up in ‘psychobabble,’ and are replacing time tested classical Torah thoughts for modern day fads, or at least adding them into our vocabulary, instead of relying on the language that has always been used by Rabbis and scholars.

It reminds me of an interesting question I was once asked at the end of one of my classes. A young man, clearly a yeshiva educated fellow, was disturbed by that fact that I was teaching “Kabbalah” as he put it, to people who were under forty years old. “Isn’t there a clear prohibition not to study Kabbalah until you reach the age of forty?” he contended.

I replied by asking him if he says Modeh Ani with his young children. [Modeh Ani is a morning prayer recited right upon awakening. In it you acknowledge G-d for returning your soul to you after a night’s sleep. In the original: Modeh ani lefonecho Melech chai v’kayam she’hechozarto bi neshmosi, b’chemlah rabbo emunosecho]. “Of course,” he said, of course I teach my children this prayer.” I continued: “And what do you tell your child when s/he asks you what is “nishmosi” (my soul), where did my soul go to during sleep, and what does it mean that my soul is now being returned to me – how do you explain this to your child?”

I was hoping that he wouldn’t tell me that his children don’t ask these questions. Because children do ask these questions, and if they don’t there’s a problem. Anyone thinking about these words has to ask what does a soul mean? Where does it go, and how does it return.

“Do you tell your child,” I asked, “that you will have to wait till you’re forty years old before I can explain to you the meaning of a soul (neshomo)?…”

“And then what do you tell your child when they say the next prayer, “Elokei neshomo she’nosatoh bi tehoreh hi, atoh boroso, atoh yotzarto, atoh nofachto bi, v’atoh meshamoro b’kirbi” (My G-d, the soul which you have given within me is pure, You have created it, You have formed it, You have breathed it into me, and you preserve it within me.” What are these levels of “tehoreh,” “boroso,” “yotzarto,” “nofachto”? Does anyone suggest that we are not to understand the meaning of our prayers until we become 40 years old?! And “tell me, my friend, if we don’t understand what we pray for 40 years, will we be able, or even be interested, to understand their meaning when we hit 40?!

I explain to him and to the class, that the prohibition of learning Kabbalah (even if it applies today – which requires a discussion of its own) certainly doesn’t apply to explaining the meaning of a soul to our children and ourselves!

The basic foundation of the entire Torah is that G-d created the universe (the first verse in Genesis) and gave the human race laws by which to live. Torah is based on the fact that we have a relationship with G-d and we are required to cultivate this relationship; to ‘know G-d,’ to ‘love G-d’ and to stand in ‘awe of G-d’ – are all mitzvahs in the Torah, obligations that every man, woman and child are required to fulfill (not at age… 40, but) from the time of bar/bat mitzvah, and education of this relationship begins from the youngest age, from birth and even earlier.

No, spirituality is not a foreign concept to Judaism; it is the essence of the entire Torah: To establish a relationship between the mundane and the Divine. To bridge heaven and earth – the material and the spiritual – through infusing our physical lives with G-dly energy. ‘Ruchnius’ is the word in Hebrew for spirituality; the entire Torah and mitzvot was given to bring peace to the world – peace between matter and spirit, to achieve dominance of spirit over matter (‘hagborot ha’tzurah al ha’chomer,’ ‘nafsho ikker, v’gufo tofel’ – see Tanya chapter 32).

There are two dimensions in this process, corresponding to the two dimensions in Torah: The ‘body’ of Torah – Talmud, halacha (law) – teaches us the Divine mechanics about how to live our lives, the ‘whats’ and the ‘whens.’ The ‘soul’ of Torah – the esoteric and mystical – teaches us the inner spirit of all the mitzvahs. Like a body and a soul both are necessary, the fusion of both creates one complete unit.

We have been trained and taught not to teach Kabbalah per se, but to teach the basics of Judaism, the abc’s that have always been known by Torah scholars and leaders: to teach about the soul and it’s connection to G-d. To teach that Torah is not only a body of laws, a conglomerate of tradition and history, a document of inspiration. Torah is a rich spiritual text that addresses the real issues of life. Torah is instruction (form the word ‘horaah’), a guiding light that illuminates the paths of life, addressing all our challenges – our pain and joy, our childhood and growth, our homes and wealth, life and death and everything in between, over and under.

Judaism is not just a culture and a religion; it is a comprehensive blueprint – and yes, a spiritual blueprint – for life.

This is why the Torah is still with us today. Not because of it being yet another constitution of law, but because it carries the eternity of the Divine, and yes, the spiritual and sublime, that transcends the vicissitudes of time and space. Timeless, yet always profoundly relevant and timely.

All my classes and writings are produced with this spirit in mind. I always hope and  pray that I succeed in being faithful to the source material and maintain the integrity of the original while attempting to apply it to contemporary life.

Indeed, this is one of the biggest challenges facing us today: How to experience Torah as relevant to our lives. How to apply Torah teachings in a way that resonates and is indispensable to us.

But after all, after so many discussions on the psycho-spiritual applications of Torah thought, where is there reference in the Torah to these mystical and psychological dimensions?

One of the prominent places is in this week’s Torah portion (Vaeirah). The parsha opens with G-d’s words to Moses:

“I am G-d (Y-H-V-H). I revealed Myself to Abraham, to Isaac and to Jacob, by the name of El Sha-dai, but by My name, Y-H-V-H, I did not make Myself known to them.”

What is the difference between ‘El Sha-dai’ and ‘Y-H-V-H’? And isn’t the name Y-H-V-H also mentioned earlier when G-d appears to the Patriarchs?

These different levels of Divine revelation are obviously mystical and spiritual by definition, and can only be properly understood in that context.

Even Rashi, the classical Torah commentator, who explains the verse according to pshat (the literal interpretation), comments here, that G-d is saying to Moses: “I did not reveal My quintessential truth,” represented by the divine name Y-H-V-H, to the Patriarchs.

What we have here are clearly different spiritual expressions of the Divine. G-d’s quintessential truth expressed in Y-H-V-H in contrast to the name El Sha-dai which represents a more limited manifestation of G-d’s expression.

The great Torah scholar and Kabbalist, Rabbi Menachem Emnuel Ezariah of Pano (1548-1620) and the Shaloh (1565-1630) explain that the Torah essentially “speaks about that which is above [the spiritual] and alludes to that which is below [the physical].” In other words, Torah is a spiritual document that ‘speaks in human language.” This does not mean that the verse is not to be taken literally (we have the axiom that ‘ayn mikra yotsei m’idei pehsuto’), but that the root and source of the literal is in the sublime. Or as Nachmanides (the Ramban) writes:  “The entire Torah are names of G-d.”

Therefore it should be no surprise that there are many direct references in Torah to the spiritual, beginning with the first description of the human being, created in the “image of G-d.” Unique to this week’s Torah portion is the fact that we catch a direct glimpse of the Divine names, the different manifestations of G-dly energy, which is generally concealed in other parts of Torah (though all of Torah are ‘names of G-d’).

Bottom line:

Today more than ever we are in desperate need of the psycho-spiritual application of Torah in order to demonstrate its personal relevance. Religious commitment is meant to be experienced not by rote, but with renewed vitality each day. This is possible only if we allow our souls to experience tradition with a deep spirituality, and not be just trapped in the mechanical ritual of our bodies.

And this spirituality is not just the domain of the spiritual seeker. Each of us has the obligation to infuse our rituals with life, passion and vivacity.

May we all live up to the Maggid of Mezeritch’s interpretation of “v’chai bohem,” ‘and you shall live by them [by the mitzvot]’ – you shall make the mitzvot come alive…

Tags: children, soul, kabbalah, Spirituality, questions
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Shmot: The Art of Communication

December 26th, 2002

How to Reach People
By Simon Jacobson
December 2002

A young but dynamic speaker once called me frantically. He was about to deliver a lecture on a certain topic and he had an attack of ‘stage fright.’ “How can I get up there and speak with authority to an educated audience about subjects that they may know more about than I do?” he asked. “I feel like a fraud,” he continued, “totally inadequate talking about science and history to scientists and historians.”

Before I share our conversation with you, let us learn from the greatest communicator of all how to speak to others.

In this week’s Torah portion (Shmot) Moses is chosen by G-d to redeem the Jewish people from their oppression under Pharaoh and the Egyptians. In his classical dialogue with G-d – a fascinating dialogue that teaches us volumes about establishing a relationship with G-d –

Moses resists becoming G-d’s messenger. Among his arguments he says to G-d: “I am not a man of words…my speech is difficult and my tongue is difficult” (Exodus 4:10). I find it difficult to speak and find the right language. To which G-d replies with a resounding statement: “Who gave man a mouth … Is it not I, G-d? Now go, and I will be your mouth” (4:11-12).

What happens? Moses approaches Pharaoh and gets G-d’s message across; he succeeds in freeing the Jews from Egypt. Moses then becomes the supreme teacher and communicator. Moshe Rabeinu. Moses receives the Torah at Sinai and proceeds to teach it to the people. This man of ‘no words’ becomes the source of Divine words for all of time. An entire book of the Torah is even named “Devorim” – “these are the words that Moses spoke.” It is the words of Moses, the ‘man of no words,’ that are remembered forever. Is there anyone else in history whose every word is known and analyzed as those of Moses in the Bible? How many books and commentaries have been written to understand every utterance that came out Moses’ mouth?

Why? Because true communication is not about brilliant ideas, eloquent oratory skills, compelling presentations; it is about ‘bittul,’ about recognizing that you are a channel – a transparent conduit – to convey a truth that is greater than yourself. And the more transparent you are, the better your communication will be. Conversely, the more your ego is in the way, the less resonance your message will have. When your personality stands between your message and the listeners then your personality dilutes (distorts?) the message.

Moses was the greatest communicator because he had the deepest self suspension (bittul). G-d chose Moses precisely because he didn’t want the ‘job.’ G-d didn’t want someone who was enamored with themselves and their speaking abilities. He didn’t want a leader who was interested in emanating great light and energy (ohr); He wanted someone who would excel at absorbing Higher wisdom, Divine knowledge, and someone who would therefore appreciate the containers (keilim) more than the lights. Because as great as your own light can be, it still (and always) remains your light, and is defined and limited as such. However, when you become an absorber, you can then retain and convey knowledge and light much greater than yourself.

And this is what I told my dear friend: True speaking is listening. It is not about you (the speaker and teacher); it is about the truth, the knowledge, and about the people you are speaking to. Before you get up to speak, as yourself this question: “Are the words I am about to say important for the audience to hear?” “Is the next hour (or whatever time your talk will take) the single most important thing that the audience (and you, the lecturer) can be doing?

If your answer is no, then you shouldn’t be giving this talk. It means that you don’t respect your audience and also yourself. Why should they be spending their precious time and energy listening to you now and not do more important things? The only right you have to speak to others – including those more educated, refined and experienced than yourself – is because you are not sharing your own thoughts and ideas; you are sharing wisdom and truth that you have heard and absorbed, coming from a higher place.

Preface your lecture by saying just that. Your only right to speak is because you have listened – listened to teachers and masters, who in turn listened to their masters, all links in an unbroken chain of listeners (not ‘chachomim,’ but ‘talmidei chachomim,’ pupils of wise ones), going back to the first listener – and thus, speaker – Moses.

Communication is about trust. About opening up channels between you and your listeners, so that they are receptive to hear your words. The only way to help an audience get beyond stereotypes and others psychological blocks, is to get out of the way and allow the higher and inner truth resonate. The more you are into yourself, the less you are invested in the message and the audience. And your listeners will know – they will feel it. They will be able to sense the truth of the message – and get beyond their own resistance – only if you allow them to by getting your own personality out of the way. Words from the heart enter the heart, our sages teach us. Words that come only from the mouth or even the mind, enter one ear and out the other.

True, there are speakers we listen to for their brilliance, for their advice on medical, financial, or other issues. Though they may be arrogant speakers, we still listen to what they have to say, because we want their information. In exchange for their ‘goods’ we may be willing to tolerate their egos and even obnoxiousness (not for long, and sometimes not even for a moment). But even then, no true communication has taken place; only (at best) a transactional imparting of information.

This may be true regarding cold facts and hard information. But when it comes to communicating truth, emotional and spiritual tools to help people live better lives, then ego, arrogance and the likes, all block the way for healthy communication.

This was the gist of the conversation between myself and my friend about the nature of communication – a discussion, mind you, that is part of my own ongoing struggle as a writer and a teacher.

And may I add that my friend has since become a world famous lecturer, mesmerizing audiences everywhere. Not due to our conversation alone, but to his own evolution and maturation process, which will surely continue to grow.

The same is true about communication between friends, spouses and any close relationships. Communication is not about being right, getting your point across, persuasion and convincing others in the validity of your message. All those aspects may be important and the end result of good communication. But the root of excellent communication we learn from Moses:

Be first a person of ‘no words,’ then your words will be worth listening to.

Tags: Moses, leadership, communication skills, humility, language, bittul
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Vayishlach: Are We Victims?

November 21st, 2002

I feel guilty. When I finished writing last week’s article and I heard about the tragic news from Chevron, I was overcome with regrets over my own complacency. What are you doing waxing philosophical about… sheep, when lives are being torn from our midst, in a senseless madness that has consumed the Middle East?

Insanity has become the norm, and we here in America delude ourselves into thinking that this is not about us, as we go about our ‘sane’ and organized lives, even as innocent people – this time teenagers on a bus in Jerusalem – are being blown up.

Where is this headed and are we doomed to a desolate future of more and more killings?!

And what are we to do about it?

Honestly, though I receive many compliments for my weekly e-mail articles, I cannot bring myself to write about anything else when this obvious crisis slaps us in the face just when we thought were safe behind our complacency.

I for one do not want to be remembered for silence and inaction in face of what is happening to our brothers and sisters in the Holy Land. We are repulsed enough by the silence 60 years ago when our brethren were being exterminated in Europe…

What will I – and you – tell my (our) children when they ask us: What did you do?!…

So this week I asked our editor, Neria, to perhaps find something from our archives to send out in our weekly e-mail, so that I don’t have to sit down and write misplaced ideas when an uncontrollable fire is burning down the house.

But then I realized my own cowardice. “No way,” I said to myself, “you cannot be silent. You must write and express precisely these feelings. If nothing else, you will at least leave a document that you cared.”

More importantly, believing that the Torah is our blueprint for life, doesn’t the Torah have something to say about how to deal with, and what we can do about, the current situation?

Challenges always bring out the best in us. I immediately realized that this week’s Torah portion speaks directly to our situation today.

Jacob is faced with a formidable confrontation. He is about to meet his twin brother and mortal enemy, Esau, from whom he had to escape 20 years ago in fear of his life after stealing the blessings from Esau. Frightened and distressed, Jacob prays to G-d to rescue him from Esau. Jacob also prepares for war with Esau. Finally he prepares a bribe to appease Esau his brother.

Why does Jacob need all three methods, especially considering that he prayed for help, why then would he need other approaches?

The answer: Faith and prayer are not just for losers and weak people. Faith is not a mere crutch and escape. True faith dictates that coupled and driven by your faith you do everything in your power, in the natural realm, you use every possible intervention to solve the problem.

Jacob therefore covers all the bases and scenarios. He begins with prayer, but he also prepares for war, the worst case scenario, one of last resort, yet still a distinct possibility considering that Esau is marching toward him with an army! And then he prepares a bribe, a gift that will appease Esau. Thankfully, Jacob needs only the first and third interventions (prayer and gifts) to cause Esau to reconcile with him.

Therein lies the lesson for us in facing adversaries today, both personally and collectively.

The first thing we must do is pray. We must establish our connection with G-d and recognize that the foundation of any success lies in our absolute conviction that our cause is right and Divine.

You can have all the tools and weapons in the world, you can devise the best schemes, but if you don’t believe in your cause, and you don’t believe that you can and will prevail, you will not be able to achieve victory. Case in point: America in Vietnam. Victory is for those that believe in it the most. Persistence will always win over complacency. A committed individual is more powerful than a hundred uncommitted.

Prayer is the foundation – to establish the absoluteness of your cause, and turn to G-d with this firm belief and ask G-d to ensure your success.

Faith then dictates and infuses you with the fortitude to do whatever it takes, everything humanly possible to ensure victory. Faith is not an escape into fantasy; as you look up to heaven in prayer your feet remain grounded on Earth. You aren’t naïve or in denial about the realities around you, and you leave no stone unturned. You prepare for war if necessary, in the worst case scenario. You also devise schemes that may appease the enemy – without compromising yourself – and solve the problem without having to actually go to war.

But you must prepare and be ready to do whatever it takes.

In Israel today the single most important foundation (that sadly appears as if it may often be missing) is that our cause is just. We are absolutely convinced that we belong in the land and that the lands belongs to us. The only right that the Jewish people have to Israel is the fact that it was given to them by G-d (see the first Rashi in the Torah), and they have historically lived there since the times of Abraham. Take away this element and you have a very arbitrary claim.

We must all first establish the absoluteness of our mission and cause. It would do us all well to begin with a prayer – to connect to G-d and ask for His assistance in our time of need. We pray not only that G-d should protect us – that is a necessary prayer and one which we offer with our complete hearts – but even before you begin to pray, before you have the right to pray, you must be able to say that you believe in the cause, or else the prayer is just words. We must feel that what we pray for is right and should be granted to us. And if you don’t feel that, perhaps you should pray that you acquire that confidence.

Then, we must be prudent and realistic. As Jacob, we must send out messengers to assess the intentions of our adversary. Sadly today, we don’t need messengers; the intentions are quite clear. And resultantly, we must do whatever it takes to defend ourselves. If it’s war so be it. Not because we want it, but because it’s been thrust upon us. What is unhealthy is to delude yourself into false hopes of appeasement, when war has been declared and waged against you.

If war is avoidable and you can in some way appease your adversary – not by giving away precious land that is necessary for security and puts you further at risk – but in other modes of mutual cooperation, then of course, that takes precedent. But once you have been attacked, and not once, but time and again, and it doesn’t end, you must stop that threat. Once the other side is ready to stop the war, you can find ways to appease them that don’t put you at any risk.

Indeed, though prayer is the foundation, we find that Jacob actually begins by preparing for war even before his prayer. Because when life is at risk, protecting life is the first priority. Then, when you have mobilized your army and are ready for any possible attack, you can pray.

Jacob was not a victim and neither are we. We free ourselves from oppressive circumstances by taking the bull by the horns and initiating change. We MAKE a move.

And we make every move possible so that all possibilities are covered. But it all begins with the absolute conviction and commitment to your cause.

Let’s make our move.

Tags: lessons from Torah, connection with G-d, faith, prayer, Israel, Jacob and Esau, life tools, tragedy, action, Life's Challenges, war and peace
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Chayei Sarah: Eulogy

October 31st, 2002

My father once interviewed a Rabbi who spent most of his days writing and writing. “What do you write all day?” my father asked him. “I write the eulogies for each member of my congregation,” he replied…

As we stand in the week of Chayei Sarah – the quintessential time of burial, eulogy and remembrance, I would like to share with you my eulogy for a close friend.

Obituary/Eulogy – Mr. M. Sable

He came into my life in 1995, when he was just 6 years old. At first our relationship was kind of rocky, me getting used to his idiosyncrasies and mood swings, him getting used to my temperament and occasional impatience.

As time passed we became good friends. Loyalty built, as we learned to trust each other. We became so close that some of my old-time friends began getting jealous. As time passed, we got closer and closer and began traveling together almost everywhere. He wasn’t that handsome and becoming, but he was reliable. He had many shortcomings, but as I became more accustomed to him, I learned to overlook many of his weaknesses. After all, I wasn’t that perfect myself, and yet he remained loyal to me. Yes, my friend wasn’t that beautiful, but he was my friend.

As time passed, we became quite attached. Sometimes I would spend more time with my friend than with anyone else, even family members. We took long trips together – traveled into the mountains during the summer, driving along the windy highways taking in the breeze. At times we had to brave the rain or snow, and slowly venture through treacherous ground.

He learned to adjust to my rhythm as I adjusted to his. We learned to align ourselves to the twists and turns of life’s journeys. He would sing for me, in many voices. He saw me at my best and my worst and never judged me. He accepted me both when I was frustrated, angry, yelling at myself and others for being late, as well as when I would smile and sing to myself, or just be plain silly. I learned to see things through his lens, his windows and mirrors – and became a greater person for it.

Even when others would offend us, he would deftly help me maneuver and get around all challenges. When others around us would be caught up in their own machinations, and distracted by the ‘rush hours’ of their lives, he would often soothe me and help me cruise through the madness.

We even got into trouble with the law together. I cannot tell you how many times we had a run in with the cops, and had to face stiff penalties for our mischievous behavior. All those summonses cost me plenty.

One of the things I really miss about him, is his ability to allow me to have conversations with others, even while I was with him; he never felt ignored. As a matter of fact, as I think about it, when cell phones became all the rage, he helped energize my private conversations and allowed me to return many calls which I simply could not do sitting consumed at my home work desk.

Above all, my friend allowed me to use his shoulder to lean on. How often was I calmed by just taking a ride with him, going… nowhere.

So yes, you can see how close we became.

But as the years rolled on, his age began to show. He grew increasingly needy. Instead of the sporadic need for nurturing, he began to be more and more demanding, and costly. Yet, because of his friendship to me I was willing to pay the price. After all, he helped me get to places I was unable to reach on my own. Times sometimes became so challenging that our relationship became quite unbalanced: I was doing a lot more giving than receiving. As he increasingly ailed, I was becoming a caretaker, and began to fear that we would cease being equals.

Yet, we endured even that. Often I would wonder whether our relationship hadn’t turned dysfunctional. Perhaps I was willing to tolerate all his aches and pains because it allowed me to stay in my comfort zone. You know, the known evil is always better than the unknown one. I ignored these thoughts, as our relationship rolled on, on its own course.

As he continued to deteriorate with age, my close friends began to badger me that it wasn’t good for my image to continue hanging around with my friend. “This friend was becoming a liability for a person of your stature,” they argued. They tried to persuade me to give up my friend, to find new friends.

I thought to myself: “Do I give up a loyal companion, who had traveled with me through thick and thin, just because he was getting old and grouchy?”

Grouchy indeed. As his grouchiness grew, I finally decided to take my friend to a doctor to see if he can be helped. My friend didn’t like the idea. “Doctors are just lousy mechanics,” he seemed to be telling me, “they have no real sensitivity to life and no true appreciation of our relationship.”

“You need help,” I told him, “and I am going to fix you.”

He replied, “It’s you who needs fixing. You and your good friends who just want to see me canned.”

“Have I been anything but loyal to you all these years? Do you know how much time and energy I spent to keep you in shape,” I retorted.

But he wasn’t going to let me have the last word. “You helped me only because I serve your interests. I don’t really think you love me for who I am. You care for me only for what I do for you!”

Maybe he was right. So I conveniently shut my mouth.

His grouchiness grew, and I sensed that the time had come to say goodbye. I thought to myself, “this will be easy. Bidding farewell shouldn’t be that big of a thing. Hey, everybody’s time has got to come after all.” Little did I know. Getting rid of this friend was not going to be easy. You can’t just develop a relationship with someone, and then just discard him when he no longer neatly fits your plans.

I thought that I wouldn’t need many excuses. After all, my friend was coughing and belching. A day barely passed that he didn’t have some breakdown. I won’t get graphic, but he was creaking and leaking, and it didn’t seem too difficult to just take him to the hospital – or a nursing home – and allow him to finish his days in peace.

But he would have the last laugh.

The sad day finally came. My friend took, what I thought, was his last breath. He had, driven me to my weekly class in the city. And after the class, he wasn’t feeling well. He couldn’t lift himself even with a boost. I quickly rushed him to the hospital, thinking that I would be going home alone. Mind you, it wasn’t easy to shlep him to the hospital. He simply refused to go. And he was one heavy dude. I finally dragged him there, at around midnight, with a little help from my friends.

What do you know? As soon as I enter the emergency room, someone yells out to me: “Hey, Rabbi Jacobson. Don’t you remember me?” I didn’t recognize his face. He reminds me that he came to some of my lectures in Manhattan. “What are you doing here?” I ask him. He’s an electrician called in to do some emergency work. Quickly, he introduces me to the head attendant, Roni, and tells him that he should treat my patient well, being that I am an “important Rabbi.” I get the royal treatment and my friend is quickly cared for.

Quietly, I whisper to those in charge, “frankly, I am ready to say goodbye to my friend. Please just try to make his final moments as pleasant as possible.” But my plans were just not meant to be.

Before I leave for the night, I have one more thing to do. I had given my friend some of my books (Toward A Meaningful Life) to hold onto. It was now several months that he was carrying around these books, and he happened to have them with him this evening. What hashgacha protis (Divine Providence)! I took two of the books and signed them for the electrician and Roni, thanking them for helping my friend.

The next morning Roni calls me, and to my surprise he informs me that they could help save my friend. The medical bill will be so much and so much. They are confident that he will recover and be ready to go home. I told Roni, “frankly, my friend is on his last legs, and I think that he should remain there. It’s just not worth the money to try to keep him alive and bring him back home.” Roni said to me, “how much money would make it worth your while to save him?” I said “no money at all. It just isn’t worth it any longer. Let’s take him out of his misery.” Roni insisted, “Ok, if that’s the case, we’ll do it for no cost at all.” What was I going to say, “no, don’t save my loyal friend.” So I agreed. Roni and his staff successfully resuscitated him, and felt that I should come pick him up as soon as possible.

Ok, so my friend is not going away so fast. As I shared my story about how difficult I was finding it to free myself from my difficult friend, someone who had just gone through a terrible divorce, says to me sardonically: “I know how you feel. It’s much harder to rid yourself of a bad spouse than to find a new one…” (dear reader: if this is in bad taste, forgive me and please let me know).

The next week, again after my class, my friend sputtered yet again. And again, I took him to the hospital. Only to encounter yet another attendant who began telling me his life story. And again, I took another book my friend was carrying, signed it and gave it to this new attendant.

And then I realized the depth of my friend’s closeness. He was holding on to my books – books that were meant to be given away to people my friend would lead me to, including the hospital attendants. The Holy Arizal teaches us – and the Baal Shem Tov elucidates the point – that each of us is allocated a certain number of Divine sparks that we are meant to elevate in our life journey. These sparks will beckon us, even haunt us until we rise to their – our – calling. After all the sparks that my friend and I had elevated together, my friend was carrying a few final sparks for us to finish. By refusing to go his peaceful way, he was telling me that we still have unfinished business together. “Distribute all the books that I am carrying for you, and then I can go to my resting place in peace,” my friend was whispering to me in his last, final gasps.

What a friend!

I quickly proceeded to sign and give away all my books to the various attendants at the hospital. When I finished, my friend was finally ready to say his final goodbye.

So, go in peace my good friend. You have taught me much. You have traveled far and wide with me. You have seen me grow, perhaps like no one else. I will not forget you.

Farewell, my 1989 brown Mercury Sable.

Simon Jacobson

Disclaimer: This obituary is only a metaphor and hopefully will be taken as such. In no way does it minimize the profound loss of a true close friend or relative. To all those that have lost someone close, please accept my condolences and prayers. May the soul of your close one empower you to find the strength to build a life inspired by his or her soul.

Tags: Parable, relationships, divine providence, Arizal, Baal Shem Tov, transcendence, friendship, Divine will, divine sparks
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Vayera: G-d Said to Abraham: Kill Me a Son

October 24th, 2002

In honor of the Bar Mitzvah of Isaac son of Pesach Mordechai son of David, son of Michael and Pesha Leah, daughter of Shabtai Zushe, son of Abraham.

Oh, God said to Abraham, ”Kill me a son”
Abe says, “Man, you must be puttin’ me on”
God say, ”No.” Abe say, “What?”
God say, ”You can do what you want Abe, but
The next time you see me comin’ you better run”
Well Abe says, “Where do you want this killin’ done
God says, “Out on Highway 61” – Bob Dylan

Kill me a son?! Why would G-d ask Abraham to perpetrate such a barbaric act?! And against his own beloved son – the son he prayed for, the only son that he and Sarah were miraculously blessed with, the son that would become his heir, and fulfill all G-d’s promises to Abraham.

And Abraham silently acquiesces. Not that Abraham didn’t know how to protest when he wanted to. Just several verses earlier in this week’s Torah portion we read about Abraham’s eloquent stand in defense of corrupt Sodom. When Abraham hears that G-d wants to destroy the wicked Sodomites, he loudly challenges G-d.

“Will you actually wipe out the innocent together with the guilty?” “Shall the whole world’s Judge G-d not act justly?”

In elaborate detail we read about Abraham’s protest on behalf of Sodom. 50, 45, 40,30, 20 – Abraham can’t find even 10 righteous people in whose merit G-d would not destroy the city. Despite all Abraham’s fruitless efforts, the Torah documents his attempt, even about a city that was unquestionably guilty of perverse corruption, and finally destroyed for that reason.

By contrast, when Abraham is told to sacrifice his innocent, beloved son Isaac, here suddenly Abraham is silent. No protest, no argument, not even a hint of a question!…

Clearly Abraham knew something that we do not. What was he aware of that allowed him to so peacefully comply with G-d’s command?

Firstly, he knew that precisely because Isaac was innocent G-d’s command to sacrifice Isaac was no punishment (as it was in the case of Sodom).

Secondly, we must remember that at this point Abraham’s faith and connection to G-d had reached an unprecedented state. Abraham is now 137 years old. He began his search for G-d at age 3. After all his experiences, finally at age 75 G-d calls to him “Lech Lecho” – Leave your homeland and go to the land “that I will show you.” When Abraham is 100 Isaac is born. Now at age 137, after nine grueling trials, Abraham has proved his absolute connection to G-d. “Nisayon” is the Hebrew word for “trial” (or ‘test’). As in “G-d tested (‘nisoh’) Abraham” in this week’s portion. “Nisayon” also means to raise, to lift.

Abraham had now elevated to an extraordinary state of being, where G-d was no longer just a higher entity, outside and beyond our existence, a G-d that one submits and surrenders to, but for Abraham at this point G-d is REALITY. G-d is the essence of all existence. Abraham was no longer just having Divine ‘experiences,’ his being was permeated with the Divine. He had become a ‘merkovoh’ (chariot) to G-d, where his entire being (every fiber) is a vehicle, a channel for the Divine.

So, when Abraham hears that REALITY – the essence of it all – requires (and therefore instructs) that his beloved son Isaac be brought as an offering, he has no doubt that this is necessary and just.

This is not merely Abraham’s acquiescence and compliance out of blind faith, it is the strength of a man who had become utterly one with a Higher Will. And it is not the ‘sacrifice’ of Isaac, it is the ‘offering’ of Isaac, and Akeidat Yitzchak, the binding of Isaac. Indeed, “V’haalayhu shom l’oleh,” words that imply elevation: “Elevate him as an ascending offering.”

But why would Reality (G-d) require the offering of a human life, of a beloved child?

One explanation: Reality did not require the offering of the child, but the offering of Abraham’s natural love for the child. As the story concludes, that once G-d sees that Abraham is ready to comply, he is told to not touch his son. The ‘test’ challenged Abraham’s biological connection to his son. That is why G-d emphasizes to ‘take the son you love’ to the Moriah area (the Temple Mount), and “there you should elevate him.” Why ‘rub it in’ by stating that Isaac is the son you love? Because the primary challenge here is not to offer Isaac, but to offer Abraham’s love for Isaac.

What is wrong with Abraham’s natural love for his son that he needs to offer it to G-d?

Why does a father love his child? Clearly, it is a biological love. It is natural to love your own child. One can even argue, that the love is because the child is an extension of you. Nothing wrong with that per se, except that such love can be limiting and under certain circumstances even damaging.

True, a father’s love to his son is unconditional and absolute. A (healthy) father would readily give his life for his child. Yet, even so, his love is ultimately subjective. Because it is a love that comes naturally (with no effort and choice), it is also bound by the natural and the biological. In other words, the love will be on the father’s terms and a love based on his understanding and his limits and parameters. As great as the love may be, it is only as great as the father himself is. If for instance the father subjectively and mistakenly feels that something is good for his child, when in truth it is not, he can harm his child in the name of love.

This is true even for a healthy parent. How much more so an unhealthy one, who can project onto his child his own insecurities and fears, and even ‘use’ his child as a scapegoat (G-d forbid).

Reality is telling Abraham: do not just love your child with human love; love him with Divine love. A love that is absolutely unconditional – not just in its commitment – but in its objectivity. A love that is not just on human terms and defined by biological circumstances, but one that is beyond the natural. As great as a father’s love is to his child, it still lasts only as long as the father is alive and the child remembers its father. A love that is infused with the Divine lasts forever.

G-d tells Abraham: I want you to offer your biological love and replace it with Divine love. When you are ready to do that, then you can return to your son and infuse your love with the eternal love of the Divine. Yes, you do not have to actually sacrifice your natural love for your child, but you have to be ready to sacrifice it; and then, we know that your love for your child will be at its purest, unconditional, always for the good of the child, and a love that is eternal.

Imagine the new dimension of love that Abraham had for Isaac after he was told not touch him. Imagine how he must have clutched him – how they must have hugged and embraced after the Akeidah. And imagine the love Isaac must have felt the rest of his life – and what he passed on to generations to come — knowing that his father’s love for him was not just a natural one, but a Divine one.

Had the Akediah not happened we would have yet another story of a father and son. We would not know the limits of this relationship. Neither would we know if this love could endure all. The Akeidah experience – which we recite each day in our prayers – leaves us with a legacy of love from father to son, that is not just another among many families, or another among all the species on Earth, of all animals who naturally love their offspring; We now have the birth of eternity – that the love between father and son, the legacy passed on from generation to generation is immortal. A love and connection that can never be broken again and can and will endure anything and everything.

No surprise then that the Akeidah took place on Mount Moriah. The Akediah experience infused the ground with sanctity, preparing it for the day when the Holy Temple would be erected in its place.

Think of the scene of Abraham and his son walking down Mt. Moriah after their experience together. That silent walk forged forever a bond and unity that shaped history and makes us who we are today.

I just participated in a Bar-mitzvah of Isaac, a son of Abraham. His Bar-mitzvah was in the week of Parshat Lech Lecho. As Isaac was reading the parsha in shul (mind you, he read every word of it impeccably), I was thinking about the power – the power of a 13 year old boy on the West Coast recreating the story of Abraham and his journey 3740 years ago!

3740 year ago! Let me repeat that to myself: Three thousand seven hundred and forty years ago…

What are the odds of something being remembered one year later?! And here we’re talking not just about memory, but millions of people on Earth who trace their direct lineage to Abraham and Issac, and moreover, live their lives by the standards that Abraham and Isaac established and passed on!

And here we are, sitting in a makeshift synagogue in California, listening to Abraham’s journey, while Abraham’s other child is disturbing our populations all over the world. And struggling over the Temple Mount upon which Abraham bound Isaac.

Now a week later, we read and recreate the next leg of the journey. Abraham has a son, and his son needs to grow through his own experiences. His son may even perceive that his father wants to kill him. But if he sees it through, and allows the story to unfold, he sees that Isaac is born out of him, and carries the legacy – into eternity.

And then all the pains, all the scars, all the prices paid all pale in comparison and melt away in the light of the future.

Perhaps because Abraham was ready to kill his son, his son never could die. He was able to transcend his natural love — ready to sacrifice HIS biological love to his son — and transform it to a Divine love.

We are all asked to ‘kill’ our natural state and reach beyond; when we are ready to do that, we do not actually have to kill anything. On the contrary, we then can reach immortality. Because remember, when you are dedicated to yourself and your own family because they are part of you, as great as the dedication is, it will always be defined by your own vision of greatness. However when your love is infused with dedication to that which is beyond you, to the eternal – then you and your family too become eternal.

Let us learn from Abraham and Isaac. Let us be bold and defy the call for conformity – let us create a revolution.

Tags: love, family, Abraham, akeidah, self-sacrifice, Divine will, Isaac, dedication
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Lech-Lecha: A Man of Certainty in Uncertain Times

October 17th, 2002

Abraham’s Journey Today

Lech Lecho – Go to you, away from your land, from your birthplace, and from your father’s house, to the land that I will show you
– G-d’s call to Abraham – Opening of parshat Lech Lecha

Uncertainty, uncertainty and more uncertainty. Doubts plague us wherever we turn.

First an attack that tragically brought down our great towers, with thousands of lives lost, and millions of psyches wounded. 13 months later the wealthiest and most powerful country in history still has no idea who attacked us, their objectives, how and against whom to retaliate and above all, how to prevent future attacks. An unknown enemy, from an unknown location with unknown objectives.

Then came anthrax, which still remains a mystery.

Then came the totally unexpected betrayal of our trust in the corporate culture. Public trust is the foundation of corporate America and the enormous wealth it has generated, and that trust has now been broken. The stock market plummets, and even as it momentarily rises and gives people hope, our economy remains shrouded in the shadows of uncertainty.

How long ago was it when we all were so certain that the Internet boom would never go away, when everything seemed so safe and sound, as we cruised along from success to success.

Now, a sniper in the Washington area who has gunned down victim after victim keeps everyone guessing as he (she? them?) continues his rampage.

What has happened to all our reliable security systems? Just yesterday we felt so sure of ourselves and convinced of our invincibility.

There may be no direct link between all these collapses, but one common thread glaringly connects them all: Uncertainty. These events all contribute – accumulatively – to an increasing sense of helplessness and they expose our lack of control.

And what lies ahead? What other ‘surprises’ can we look forward to?…

Uncertainty has become our most certain commodity. Will this become the age of uncertainty instead of the age of freedom which we all had hoped for?

So it’s quite refreshing to read this week’s Torah portion about Abraham. Abraham lived in a time consumed with another sort of uncertainty – a pagan world that lost its sense of direction. Resisting all pressures – rejecting all the influences of his life, his family, culture and community – Abraham searched for something true and eternal, something that transcends the subjective whims of man and transient forces of nature. A lone man pitted against an entire world, Abraham discovered the only certainty in life: The only certainty in life is the absolute commitment to your Divine calling, to the mission for which you have been uniquely chosen.

G-d’s call to Abraham – “Lech Lecho,” “Go to you, away from your land, from your birthplace, and from your father’s house, to the land that I will show you” – is the essence of mans’ calling on earth: To leave your instinctive and subjective influences, to depart from your nature and habits, to transcend the prejudice of ego, to free yourself from social pressures – to go beyond your self, your genetic and conditioned self, and achieve greatness.

Each moment of our lives, at each encounter we face we have two choices: To be mediocre or to be great. Will you follow your selfish, immediate needs, or will you transcend your natural self and reach beyond yourself – to your essence, who you truly are? Will you just suffice with the confines of the forces that have shaped you, or will you go beyond your self?

As we go through the throes of our newfound (or newly-exposed) vulnerability and we enter an age of ever-deepening uncertainty, reading Abraham’s story couldn’t come at a better time. Our father Abraham’s story is our story. Abraham ‘father of all nations’ – the first man to discover certainty in a world of uncertainty – teaches us that the only real response to doubts and confusion is to embrace our unwavering calling.

Abraham began the journey 3740 years ago (Lech Lecho took place in Abraham’s 75^th year); we are poised to conclude it. Lech Lecho is the immortal call to Abraham to set out on a journey that would defy the very nature of existence – to reach heaven and beyond, and bring it back to earth. Abraham was shown the vision of all the challenges to come, the rise and fall of empires, the battles between his children (see last year’s essay, Abraham’s Vision)

After three and a half millennia – and all that has transpired in between – we are ready to reach the destination and realize the fulfillment of Abraham’s vision.

The uncertainty of our times can either paralyze us, force us into denial or… challenge us to find the certainty within our existence.

In the spirit of Abraham, here is a humble suggestion: Let us all think and then write down what is the most certain thing in your life? What do you know is real with absolute and unconditional surety?

If you cannot find the answer, begin looking now. Listen to the “Lech Lecho” call and begin your journey. If you have the answer, cherish it and hold onto it with every fiber of your being – and above all, live up to it.

Every experience in our lives offers us the opportunity to achieve greatness. Will you rise to the occasion?

Tags: purpose of life, Abraham, certainty, achievement, transcendence, self-improvement
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Noach: The Birth of Nations

October 10th, 2002

As we continue to struggle with global unrest, what has been coined by some as a ‘clash of civilizations,’ it seems wise to retrace the steps of history and find the root of cultural and religious divisions. Even if we aren’t quite experiencing (yet?) a global clash, there is no doubt that we are facing major conflicts between nations and their ideologies or politics. Clearly, much insight could be gleaned from understanding the forces that have shaped these differences, and have led to misunderstanding, xenophobia and wars.

Today’s colliding national interests compels us to ask: When was national diversity born?

This week’s Torah portion tells us about the events that transpired close to four thousand years ago which resulted in the breakup of mankind into clans and factions, divided by  language, race and culture.

Following the great flood, the descendants of Noah began rebuilding the world as one large community.

At first, the entire earth had one language and uniform words. When the people migrated from the east, they found a valley in the land of Shinar (Babylon), and they settled there. They said to one another…: “Come, let us build ourselves a city and a tower, whose top shall reach heaven. Let us make ourselves a name, lest we be scattered all over the face of the earth.”

G-d descended to see the city and the tower, which the children of men had built. G-d said: “Behold, they are a single people, all having one language, and this is the first thing they do! Now nothing they plan to do will be unattainable for them! Come, let us descend and confound their language, that they may not understand one another’s speech.”

From that place G-d scattered them all over the face of the earth, and they ceased building the city. Therefore He named it Babel, because this was the place where G-d confused (balal) the world’s language, and it was from there that G-d dispersed [humanity] over all the face of the earth.

These nine (!) verses tell us the entire story of cultural and racial fragmentation. All abuses of power, all corruption of nations originates from individual or collective arrogance. Consequentially, this arrogance inevitably erodes the ‘towers’ nations build and leads to their dispersion and destruction.

Witness all the empires throughout history, study their rise and fall and you find the same pattern emerging again and again. Overconfidence, arrogance, supremacy – a need to dominate and control, a lack of humility – always lies at the heart of each downfall.

So, so much can be understood from the Tower of Babel account. Each line is replete with messages. Every nation and community, indeed every company and individual would do well to study these nine verses.

Birthings always expose for us essential truths. The birth of nations – cultural and racial diversity – allows us the opportunity to review how we are using or abusing our power.

Every time a nation is born it must define its mission: Is its purpose to “make a name for itself’ or to ‘make a name’ for a higher purpose. As the nation builds and grows it will need to continuously review and reaffirm its mission.

We may have accumulated great wealth and muscle, we may have developed superb communications and technologies. But are we using all these gifts for anything more than to arrogantly build a ‘name for ourselves’? Is there higher purpose to our monuments and edifices – is there enduring power to our mighty cities and towers – an eternal legacy that will last longer than the name of any individual?

Following September 11th, none of us have to be reminded of the vulnerability of our stone cities and steel towers. We all have been rudely – violently – awakened to the destruction wreaked by racial/religious divisions.

How uncanny – how prescient – that the fall of the Tower of Babel was caused by events that so closely parallel the causes and events around the 9/11 fall of the towers. (No way does this justify the actions of the terrorists which amounts to nothing less than blatant murder; yet regardless, the analogous lessons we derive are still striking and relevant).

Will our cities and towers be ones of Babel, confounded and confused, will we continue busily building a ‘name for ourselves’ or will we build a name for G-d?

Will our national diversity create a deeper harmony – with each nation, community and individual using its unique skills to build and reveal the higher unity of G-d’s name; or will we sink into an abyss, where each of us is separately consumed with self-glorification.

Will we build a better world together, or will we self destruct (G-d forbid) as each of us attempts to hollowly ‘make a name for ourselves,’ and in effect widen the gap between nations and between people, until we cancel each other out.

This week’s portion teaches us that we have the power to choose. Armed with this knowledge – and with the retrospective wisdom derived from the lessons of history – we must ask ourselves: Have we learned something? Are we listening?

Tags: humility, diversity, arrogance, Tower of Babel, September 11th, cultural differences, corruption, history
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Bereishit: Passion & Complacency

September 30th, 2002

A Post-Simchat Torah Open Letter
to both my Frenzied & Rational Friends

Fervent, zealous, fanatical frenzy.
Rational, calm, serene.
Which one would you like to be?
Here are selections from my post-Simchat Torah diary.

Simchat Torah, Sunday, September 30th

Had the unique opportunity to see life in its full glory play itself out right before my eyes, with its multi-paradoxical flavors and nuances.

First I see a group of my friends finish dancing at 9:30 PM, walk home with their spouses – how sweet! – with their cleanly pressed clothing and self-satisfied faces.

Pathetic! For years on end we saw the Rebbe dance until the wee hours of the night, in a never-ending surge of energy. How can you now complacently walk home and go to sleep before curfew?!

Good news is that this first group is quite small.

I then see, on the other end of the scale, thousands of Chassidim celebrate with frenzy in an intoxicated dance that stretched hour after hour into the night, and then some, continuing into the morning. Yes, frenzy. I had no idea where it was coming from, but as I saw multitudes reach an infatuated fervor, I hear the skeptic inside of me wonder: “what distinguishes this passionate fervor from those of brainless cult followers?”

The first were normal, the second crazy. The first balanced, the second radical. The first calmly walked home, the second probably forgot about their homes.

Which way of being is better? Is there an in-between option? Can a soul be on fire and remain grounded?

These and many other questions roil my mind as I recognize how these two extremes reflect the spectrum of life all over. Which is better: raw, untamed energy of youth or the balanced experience (resignation?) of seasoned adults. Are we doomed to embrace one or the other?

This struggle also captures the troubles plaguing our religious communities. Reminds me of the words I always speak when I visit the Carlebach Shul in the Upper West Side of Manhattan: “There are no perfect communities and shuls in the world today. In some places Rosh Hashana feels like Simchat Torah, and in others Simchat Torah feels like Rosh Hashana. Some synagogues celebrate Purim very well, and others specialize in Tisha B’av (saddest day in the year)… Some have love without discipline; others discipline without love.

And finally on the political scene, extremists seem to always take center stage. Left and right. Chesed and gevurah. Tiferet – the center path – is a rare and elusive commodity. Balance and harmony of both extremes fused together is hard to find. We have ‘centrists’ that are ‘weak in the middle’ and uncertain or vague, they either don’t take a position or take a weak position, or they straddle the fence and ‘tantz oif aleh chasunas’ (‘dance at all weddings’ – a favorite Yiddishism expressing insecure ambiguity). Tiferet is the strength to synthesize passion and control. To reach an equilibrium between tension and resolution. Rotzo and shuv. Reaching, reaching, reaching upward – the fire of Simchat Torah, and then drawing, drawing, drawing downward.

All these thoughts whizzed by me as I watched the two different groups celebrating Simchat Torah.

Yes, for several hours unrealizingly I sadly became an observant Jew – observing events instead of creating them. Until I caught myself and surrendered my ego, throwing myself into the impassioned frenzy.

So here’s my open letter and plea to both my friends:

Oh rational ones, inject yourself with some passion, even frenzy. Learn from your brothers how to break out of your smug attitudes and self-imposed boundaries. Get out of your mediocre structures, let loose and dance, truly dance.

Oh frenzied ones, ground yourselves. Study and internalize your passion. Build something. Take all your frenzy and passion and channel it into a productive spiritual revolution.

Let us recreate the world anew – as we begin the new Torah reading cycle and read: “Bereishis boro Elokim es hashomayim v’es ha’aretz” (In the beginning G-d created heaven and Earth) – a new world order, radically different than the one we lived through last year. Enough complacency. Let us set the world on fire – the fire of spiritual passion that transforms rather than destroys.

Together let us create a true revolution: Passion with poise. Using structure to defy structure

Tags: purpose, self-development, balance, spiritual, complacency, chassidism, transformation, passion, spiritual evolution, transcendence
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