'Till 120!

Today's Hebrew date -- the 7th of Adar -- is Moshe's birthday and yahrtzeit (death date). Moshe, arguably the greatest leader of all time, lived 120 years and is the paradigm for the traditional Jewish birthday wish to live 'till 120! ("ad meah v'esrim!"). The Torah itself states that not only did Moshe live a long life, but his "eyes didn't dim, and his vigor did not diminish" (Devarim 34:7) and in Breishit 6:3 G-d Himself says that man won't be immortal, but that his years will be 120 -- the sign of a full, complete life.

Interestingly, people have always had an obsession with youth. From claiming to be 21 years old forever, to plastic surgeries, to anti-aging creams, to the legendary search for the fountain of youth, people have a fascination with the mystery of how to break nature's prescribed path of growing old.

But its rare to really appreciate the beauty that growing old entails.

In fact, the phrase itself speaks worlds: to grow old.

To live a static life is not much of a life. But to GROW old? Now that's pretty awesome.

A few weeks ago on Shabbos, I had the privelege of witnessing and being inspired by a man who knows the meaning of "growing old." Rabbi Sidney Keiman, the rabbi emeritus of Congregation Adereth El in Manhattan, turned 100 years old on January 27, 2013. The Shabbos before his birthday (parshat Beshalach) was understandably an incredible one for the entire community.  Rabbi Kleiman was called to the Torah for the aliyah that included Az Yashir -- the song of gratitude that the Jews sang when passing through the red sea on their way out of Egypt. Two congregants lifted R' Kleiman from his wheelchair and supported him on either side as he stood with an unnatural strength before the Torah for the entire aliyah. In respectful awe, the entire congregation stood right along with him.

 

I wish I could take a peek through the window of what Rabbi Kleiman has seen over the past century, but suffice it to say I doubt he could have ever predicted the iPhone 5. When he first arrived in his shul, there were still individuals there who were alive during the Civil War! He was there during the Great Depression when congregants would donate coal and clothing instead of money. Can you imagine someone who was not just alive during the Holocaust, but was a full fledged rabbi of an American shul in 1939, leading a congregation through those years of tragedy? And then to witness the complete turn around with the celebration that followed the establishment of the state of Israel!

100 years down the line, though wheelchair bound, R' Kleiman is still the first one in shul every single day. In fact, that's how he spent his 100th birthday -- going to shul like he does every other day. Perhaps the most beautiful part of his birthday shabbos was seeing R' Kleiman, still fully with it, give a brachah in a strong powerful voice to the crowd of children presenting him with his birthday card.

In his own words in an article about him:

( http://www.jewishpress.com/indepth/interviews-and-profiles/rabbi-kleiman-still-the-first-one-in-shul/2012/01/19/ ):

"I'm not that big a man. My name is Kleiman, which means 'small man,' kleiner mann. I'm just happy to do what I do, and if people want to follow my example, so much better."

When we think about growing old, we tend to wonder: What's the secret? I want to share with you a short clip from the Ellen Degeneres show, featuring a 105 year old woman Edythe Kirchmaier. When asked the secret to living a long life, her focus was on positivity. In her words, "If something happens, I can't do anything about it. So I don't let it bother me."

Wishing us all a long meaningful life! Till 120!

Spiritual Rejevenation

“Who can express in words what Shabbos has meant to the Jews throughout the generations?

At week’s end, the galus Jew trudges wearily home, bearing in his heart the incessant pain and the burdens of his downtrodden people. Nevertheless, even as he winds his way along the narrow paths of the ghetto, his heart is filled with joyous anticipation, for he knows that the unique beauty and sanctity of the Shabbos will soon encompass him and that its magnificent blessings will soon descend upon his home.

As his wife lights the Shabbos candles, the Jew is aware that these lights usher in an aura of shalom bayis; peace and serenity will quickly permeate his home. His Shabbos table radiates joy and happiness and is set as for a king. On this day his soul rejoices, and as a man reborn, he raises his voice in song.

This is the island of spiritual strength amidst the turbulent sea of exile. This is his Shabbos – sacred day of rest, and never-ending source of spiritual rejuvenation.”

-Rav Zechariah Fendel : Seasons of Splendor

Taking the Time to Breathe

In this week's parsha, Parshat Shemot, Jewish slavery in Egypt begins. Strangely enough, as the work load increases there's no mention of the Jews complaining under the hard labor or crying out to Hashem. That is... until the day of the King of Egypt's death. Well, doesn't that seem like a strange time to cry? If anything, wouldn't they be excited by the death of the very king who was enslaving them? Now that he's dead, they can have hope that a new king might lift the strict work regimen and bring new policies!
Some commentaries explain the sudden Jewish cries by saying exactly that -- that it was after the death of the old king, and thus at the start of the new king's reign that they started crying. They were crying because it turned out that the new king was just as harsh as the old one. Before the death of the old king, the Jews looked forward to a light at the end of the tunnel, but now that the old one died and the new one was just as bad, all hope was lost. Time to turn to Hashem.
But I actually want to focus on a different approach -- that of the Netziv (Rav Naftali Tzvi Yehuda Berlin, Rosh Yeshiva of Volozhin in the mid 1800's).
He strengthen's our original question by saying that the Jewish people especially shouldn't have been crying on the day of the king's death. This is because all of Egypt was mourning his death, and it was a day off for the entire country. In other words, the Jews wouldn't have been working on that day! So why in the world is their one day off from work the day when they suddenly started crying?!
The Netziv explains the situation with a profound idea.
You know that feeling of being so incredibly busy that you have no time to think, and then finally Shabbos arrives, you get to put your life on hold, and you can finally give yourself a chance to breathe?
Well that's essentially what happened to the Jews. They were worked so hard while the old Pharaoh gradually brought them into slavery, that they never had a real opportunity to pause and think about the seriousness of the situation they were in. It was only on the day that the Pharaoh died, when they weren't working, that they had time to reflect on their awful situation, recognize it's gravity, and call out to Hashem for help.
Let's reflect this story back to us.
We spend our whole lives running and running and running in circles with all the things we have to get done, but do we ever give ourselves a moment to breathe? To think? To add meaning to our day? To thank God for the gifts He's given us? We're so busy with the tasks that fill up our daily routine that we don't get to reflect on (hopefully) the AWESOMENESS of our lives!
What if the busy-ness of life is stopping us from doing something as crucial for our well-being as asking for Hashem's help was for the Jews enslaved in Egypt?
Before we get lost in our school work once again, let's finish up our winter vacations by taking a step out of our routine. Close your eyes, reflect on the greatness of life, and breathe!

Dvar Torah for Shabbos

Hi All,



The Chofetz Chayim has a beautiful and empowering insight into what appears to be a rather minor comment in this week’s Parsha.
In the verse (3:5), HaShem’s commands Moshe to remove his shoes because of the holiness of the ground upon which he stands. Simple enough. The Chofetz Chayim, however, sees a deeper message in these words. To wit: Whenever a person is ready to fulfill his/her life’s mission; wherever a person “stands” in this journey towards that realization, that place is holy and sacred.
This is one an astounding idea. Holiness and our closeness to Gd becomes a function of our courage and strength to move forward and accomplish that which we know we must.
One caveat, though. “Remove your shoes.” Or put differently in “Mama lashon,” get rid of the garbage. Delete the messes. Repair the mistakes. Banish the sins that get us into so much trouble.
Touch your “four cubits” and feel the holiness of the ground beneath. It’s your holiness. Experience its creative powers and feel the breathe of the Shechina on your face.

Good Shabbos