Lamplighter

Imagine what life would be like if we couldn’t depend on the sun to rise in the morning?

A prevalent cultural misnomer is that the “New” and “Different” is intrinsically better than the old and routine. This mindset affects all aspects of human life, from relationships to religious observance and even where we choose to live.

Unwilling to pay the price of endurance and commitment, people with this mindset are addicted to change. They cling to the tantalizing allure of the unknown like addicts to drugs. The sobering truth of the predictable has them running like prey from a perusing predator. Most of all they despise commitment like the Black Death of the bubonic plague. Running is sadly their only way of dealing with realty.

At the core of this pervasive syndrome that breeds inertia, is a gullible and distorted sense of reality – the naive belief that there is a formula for an existence that is simple, effortless and forever blissful. The result of this flawed philosophy is a shallow and superficial existence; one that inevitably yields a very low dividend. Relationships, for example, are shallow if not flaky and, as a result, buckle under the slightest degree of stress.

In order to discharge their religious obligation, or squash their “Religious guilt,” they are easily seduced by smorgasbord religion and a garden variety of simulations, each of which promises the intrinsic security and rewards that religion has to offer without any of its inherent commitments. When one replication proves hollow and unfulfilling, they quickly move to the next, hoping that it will prove more rewarding than the one before.

The same mindset is used with regards to community and leisure pursuits. Life, in the end, amounts to a never ending cycle of instability and change. Worst of all is the fact that such people live life on the periphery, they dabble and skim but are not part of anything. They live life in as spectators in the bleachers, but never quite get into the game.  

While the new is fresh and exciting and clearly has its place, it must not replace the old and routine – that which is consistent, dependable and has withstood the test of time. To dismiss the importance of the routine and dependable is to dismiss some of the most authentic and sustaining realities of life upon which we depend on for survival.

Imagine what life would be like if we couldn’t depend on the sun because it decides that the routine is boring and chooses not to rise one morning, or if the earth gets tired of its same duties and no longer wishes to bear fruit. We would obviously not survive. If we count on the dependability of the Almighty and his creation in order to survive, shouldn’t He be able to count on us? If our lives depend on the commitment of others, G‑d as well as humans, shouldn’t our commitment be dependent upon?    

This week’s Torah portion teaches the importance of dependability and routine. In the beginning of the Parsha of Tzav, we are commanded: "The fire on the Altar shall remain burning on it, it shall not be extinguished; and the priest shall burn wood upon it every morning" (Leviticus 6:5).

Instead of heading for the quick fix, we ought to ask ourselves: “How dependable am I as a father? How dependable am I as a husband or friend? How dependable am I as a person. What would the world be like without dependability?

May we take to heart the lesson of our Parsha and strengthen our commitment to G‑d and to humanity, in both the old and the new, in doing so we will enrich our live and prepare the world for the coming of the righteous Moshiach BBA. 

Gut Shabbos!

Salt-Free Water

And the remainder of the offering shall be eaten by Aaron and his sons… in a holy place… I have given it to them as their portion of my fire-offerings; it is holy… (6:9-10)

Today, a person's table is comparable to the altar in the Holy Temple. (The Talmud, Chagigah 27b)

Before Rabbi Israel Baal Shem Tov went public with his teachings and established the chassidic movement, he served as a shochet (ritual slaughterer) in a small village in the Ukraine. After he left his post, the village hired another shochet to slaughter their cattle and fowl.

One day, a villager sent his one of his non-Jewish laborers with a chicken to the shochet. But the messenger returned with the bird still very squawkingly alive. "This new fellow you got," he explained, "is no good."

"Why?" asked the villager.

"Oh no," said the peasant "From me he'll get no chickens to slaughter. He stands there with a pitcher, and uses ordinary water from the well to sharpen his knife! Yisrolik would sharpen the knife with his tears…"

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The Origins of the Gragger: Why We Boo Haman

There is an ancient and widespread custom that when the name of Haman is mentioned during the Megillah reading on Purim, the congregation (especially the children) spin graggers (ratchets), bang, shout, stamp their feet and generally make a ruckus. This custom is recorded in the writings of the Rabbi David Abudraham (14th century, Spain), who writes that there had been an earlier custom for children to draw a picture or write the name of Haman on wood or stones and then bang them together to “erase” Haman’s representation. This is in line with the verse, “You shall blot out the memory of Amalek from under heaven” since Haman was a descendant of Amalek. This custom, he writes, later evolved into the practice of banging and making noise when the name of Haman is read. Today, this is often accomplished by spinning graggers. Some have discouraged this custom, but both Rabbi Yosef Caro and Rabbi MosesIsserles reference it and add that “one should not nullify any custom or belittle it” as there is meaning behind the custom. Although the basic reason for making noise stems from blotting out the name of Haman, there are additional meanings behind the custom as well: Reluctant to Mention Haman in the First Place Rabbi Moses Sofer (Chatam Sofer, 1762–1839, Central Europe) explains that we are commanded in the Torah to obliterate any remembrance of the nation of Amalek. Yet, there is no bigger “remembrance” of the nation of Amalek than when we read about Haman in the Megillah. We therefore raise a ruckus—after hearing Haman’s name—to show that we don’t want to really hear his name, but are doing so only because it is a mitzvah to listen to the entire Book of Esther, including the parts where Haman is mentioned. (In order to fulfill one’s obligation, one must hear every word, so don’t start your noisemaking until the reader finishes saying the name Haman, and stop as soon as the reader or the rabbi signals it is time to stop.) Flogging the Guilty Rabbi Mordechai Yaffeh (Levush, 1530–1612) notes that the final letters of the words והיה אם בן הכות הרשע, “if the [guilty one] is to be beaten”, spell out the name Haman (המן). Thus, we bang when we hear the name Haman. Obliterating Haman After the Jews fought the Amalekites in the desert, G‑d said to Moses, “Inscribe this [as] a memorial in the book, and recite it into Joshua's ears, that I will utterly blot out (ומחה אמחה) the remembrance of Amalek from beneath the heavens.” The Midrash expounds that “I will utterly blot out” means that G‑d will erase the remnant of Amalek even from wood and stone. Thus, the custom evolved to write (and subsequently erase) the name of Haman on wood or stone. The words “I will utterly blot out” (ומחה אמחה) also have the same numeric value as זה המן, “this is Haman.” Furthermore, Rabbi Pinchas of Koreitz (18th century) explains that the word מחה is sometimes translated as “hit” or “bang.” Haman’s Punishment If Haman’s plans were realized, G‑d forbid, then we ourselves would not exist. In a sense, he is therefore a threat to every generation of Jews and must be combatted all over again. Rabbi Chaim Palagi (1788–1868, Turkey) explains that when we bang during the reading of Haman’s name, then in a spiritual sense, Haman is beaten once again in Purgatory. When to Bang Many have the custom to bang and/or make noise every single time the name of Haman is mentioned in the Megillah. Others only bang when there is some honorific attached to Haman’s name (this is the Chabad custom), or only when the context discusses his downfall. Stamping vs. Banging Some are particular to make noise by stamping their feet. Amalek is compared to the “heel,” the lowest of the low. During the previous exiles, we rectified all the other parts of our collective spiritual “body,” so all that is left to refine is the heel. Since the heel is less sensitive to sensation than other body parts, it is comparable to Amalek, who “cools off” a person’s inspiration. Stamping the foot serves to weaken and topple this internal Amalek. The mystics explain that the spiritual war with Amalek continues throughout the generations, especially in the waning days of the present exile. When we fulfill the mitzvah of obliterating the spiritual Amalek, the world comes that much closer to the time when G‑dliness will be manifest to all with the coming of Moshiach. May it be speedily in our days!

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