Tuesday, June 29, 2010

Balak-Never Too Tired

When the thick cloud of lethargy saturates our organism we crumple beneath its weight. No task is menial and no deed facile. We are beleaguered with the feeling of dragging our feet through the mud or pushing through water. The overwhelming enormity of this sheer black cloud of lassitude forces us to spurt out excuses for every responsibility at hand. Clichés such as I can’t or I am too tired, which are apt to describe our temporary disability to perform, smoothly roll off our tongues with the expertise of a laureate poet.

Then some good news, such as an opportunity to consume our favorite food, engage in a hobby or meet a good friend, washes away the bogged-down sensation. Suddenly, our mood shifts to euphoric rapture ─ imagined bells ringing, music playing. With our countenances shining, we are invigorated by vivid rays of energy that assuage the heaviness of our limbs. We seem to effortlessly fly and glide to the task at hand.

Such was the experience of Yaakov our Forefather. “And Yaakov lifted his feet and came to the land of the people of the east” (Genesis 29:1). Once he was informed of good news, that he was promised to be protected (by God), his heart lifted his feet and it became easy to walk (Rashi, ad loc.).

In this week’s portion, Rabbi Chaim ben Atar in his monumental Torah commentary asserts that such is the experience of righteous people.

This is the meaning of the verse, He has not seen iniquity in Jacob, nor has he seen weariness in Israel (Numbers 23:21).

The intent is that even though the righteous perform mitzvos and all their toil is in the study of Torah, they do not feel weariness…rather the opposite; like a person who profits…delights…it gives them strength (Ohr HaChaim Hakodosh, ad loc).

Rabbi Atar articulates a universal intuitive concept. Not all feelings of stupor or alertness stem from an existing physiological status. Rather, the pendulum swings with psychosomatic influence. Simply put, those things that we love we have an easier time doing while those we don’t love we have a harder time doing.

Therefore, if we would love performance of mitzvos and study of Torah, we would accomplish more and most of our excuses would evaporate.

The question is, how do we develop this love? The Rambam (Sefer Hamitzvos, asei #3) and the Sefer Hachinuch (Mitzvah 418) provide the answer.

There are two ways. One is to ponder the creation. When we observe the multiple systems in the universe ─ how they are interrelated and function in their own spheres ─ we are imbued with amazement. Whether it is the solar system or the circulatory system, the intricacy, high level of function and consistency is astounding.

The other way to develop this love is to ponder the Torah. I was once told by a former minister that the Torah differs from all other religious works in that it is consistent with all of its different categories of subjects. When one studies other works, one is disturbed by a low level of anxiety due to nonsensical ideas that are borne from inconsistent thought.

In addition, the depth and breath of wisdom contained in the Torah is unparalleled.

Encountering the creation and the Torah this way infuses us with the love of God. This love is described by the Rambam (Mishnah Torah, Hilchos Teshuva 10) as an obsession that can only be compared to the deep seated feelings that lovers can manifest for each other, as expressed in the Shir HaShirim/ The Song of Songs.

When one achieves this love, no hill is too high, no road is too long, no task is too hard and nothing stands in the way.

This is what Bilaam saw with his fortuitous prophetic vision.

Friday, June 11, 2010

Korach-Yes We Can

The story of Korach is not just about him. It is about the ravages that ensued because of him. The conflagration of quarrel that he incited is so intense that it smolders even the innocent children. Hardly anyone escapes it gripping force. It is a Rip current that sweeps its victims into the open sea of decimation.

Liability in the earthly courts begins at Bar Mitzvah while in the heavenly courts at age of twenty. However, in our Parsha, even nursing children were lost (Rashi, Numbers 16:27).

Yet in every bleak situation beauty can emerge. Beauty, thy name is the children of Korach. They managed to abscond at the proverbial buzzer. If there ever was a last possible moment this was it.

In Parshas Pinchas we are informed that the children of Korach didn’t die (Ibid 26:11).

The clash between Korach and Moshe reached its climax, Hashem’s decree unleashed. A horrific scene unfolded in front of the perpetrators eyes. At first, there was a small tremor. Slowly, it magnified into a rumble. Quicker then their minds could grasp the small cracks became a gapping hole to a seeming abyss. With lighting speed the children of Korach were drawn in with an unstoppable force screaming in terror.

Abruptly, they ceased to fall landing on a plateau saved from the ensuing travail. They had escaped. Why?

Rashi (ad loc) explains. They were involved first. At the time of the altercation they repented in their hearts. Therefore, a tall place emerged for them in the abbadon and they sat on it.

The Divine Inspiration hovered upon them and they prophesized about the exiles, the destruction of the Temple, and the monarchy of David. (Rashi, Psalms 42:1)


They didn’t give up. One should never give up even if a prophet who is on the highest echelon of human accomplishment (Rambam, Yesodei HaTorah 7:1) tells us that it is too late.

This is what King Chizkiyahu told Isaiah.

Isaiah informed him that he had lost his portion in the World to Come because he refused to have children knowing they would be vile.

Isaiah said there was no hope and he shall suffer the fate pronounced upon him regardless of his efforts.

Chizkiyahu responded, Son of Amotz, end your prophesy and go. I have a tradition from my grandfather. Even if a sharp sword rests upon a person’s neck, he should not refrain from mercy. (Brachos 10a)

The resolve not to abjure from achieving one’s objectives is the driving force behind greatness.

Greatness is the expectation.

Consistent with that reality the Rambam writes that every person can be as righteous as Moshe our teacher (Hilchos Teshuva 5:2).

Therefore, a person is obligated to say, when will my actions be like the actions of my forefathers Avraham, Yitzchak and Yaakov? (Tanna Debei Eliahu Rabbah 1:25).

One may have the itch to say, I can’t. It’s not for me. That’s false.

Yes we can (Bob the Builder) be great. We can understand the Torah, change our character traits, relate to Hashem through prayer, and to keep the mitzvos.

We can soar to the ethers that transcend the realm of our mediocrity. We can burst open the gates of our imagination of what we can accomplish and dwell beyond the scope of our perceived aspirations and capabilities.



Shel Silverstein’s artistic flair manifested by the grace of his pen captured the emotional expression of this idea.

Listen to the MUSTN’T child,
Listen to the DON’TS.
Listen to the SHOUDN’TS, the IMPOSSIBLES, the WON’TS.
Listen to the NEVER HAVES,
Then listen close to me –
Anything can happen, child,
ANYTHING can be.